Work Text:
*flashback*
George had awoken with wet sheets for the third night in a row. And the first two, Paul had found him tucked away in the kitchen cabinets, hiding from what he’d done instead of getting somebody for help.
As much as George thought Paul was upset with him, Paul was heart broken. Neither of them knew what was going on that was causing it, and all he wanted was for George to get better.
Faced with the third night in a row, George tried to will himself to go to Paul’s room and tell him what had happened, but once again, he couldn’t. He found himself hurrying to the kitchen and crawling into the cabinets again, still sitting in his wet pyjamas.
Paul had found him not too soon afterwards, and he once again had helped him clean it all up. That day, he took George to the doctor, and the two learned that they weren’t the only ones who didn’t know what was happening. He was recommended to wear nappies until the troubles subsided.
Little did he know they wouldn’t subside for a long while.
~
Paul was the only Beatle that knew that George still wet the bed. John had figured out before, about a year ago, but as far as he was concerned, George had stopped. The only reason Paul hadn’t forgotten was that he had to make sure George always had what he needed, or things could end up not so great, which is what happened the first time he roomed with Ringo.
It started as a normal night. They ate dinner together and then retired to their rooms, each getting dressed in their pyjamas. It all seemed normal. For all of them except George. He would usually pack nappies for himself, as he usually wore them, but because he knew he would be rooming with Ringo, he knew he wouldn’t be able to work up the courage to put it on, so he didn’t bring any at all.
As he pulled his pyjama pants up, though, he knew this would be a mistake. As calmly as he could, he walked to his bed and got settled.
“Goodnight, Geo.”
“Goodnight, Richie.”
And just like that, he fell asleep.
~
The next time he woke up, he could already feel a cold wetness crawling beneath him. He blinked back his tears as he sat up to try to assess the damage done. It was bad. Really bad.
Piss had soaked through the entirety of his trousers and had formed a sizable wet spot on his bed. He put a hand over his mouth as a sob fell out of him. This could have all been prevented if had just brought his nappies and put one on, but he just had to be stubborn with himself. God, Paul was going to kill him for not putting one on.
Before he had any time to think, he left the room.
~
Ringo woke up in the morning, immediately turning around in his bed to see George, but when he didn’t see him, he got a bit worried. George was never up this early. What was going on?
He got up to go find him, and immediately smelled something… something like urine. Confused, he looked over to the bed to see a big spot on it, and he felt a pang of sympathy run through him. Had George wet the bed? That didn’t seem like him at all.
Now a bit worried, he left the room for John and Paul’s, knocking on the door. He heard a groan and then footsteps. And then John opened the door.
“What do you want?”
“Er… well, I woke up and George wasn’t in the room--”
“He’s probably making himself a sandwich. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
“He, er… well, his bed sheets were wet, and it kind of smelled like he might have wet the bed.”
John stared at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes, letting Ringo in. “Christ, I didn’t know he still did that. Let me get Paul up.”
“Don’t you think he wouldn’t want too many people knowing?” Ringo followed John into the room.
“Paul’s the one who told me about it years ago.”
“Told you about what?”
As soon as Ringo had gotten next Paul’s bed, John already had him awake. “Paul, wake up. Ringo said George wet the bed.” Paul’s eyes fluttered open, his face already written over in worry.
“Oh, god. Where is he?” Paul was out of bed within seconds, already pulling his pyjama pants back on. “He is still in the room, isn’t he?”
“N-no, I woke up and he wasn’t there.”
Paul started to leave. “Oh, poor George. He must be so worried. And he’s probably been under the kitchen cabinets for hours. Oh, sweetheart.”
The two of them followed Paul to the kitchen, but Paul sent them to clean up the bed so that George didn’t have to see them. As soon as he had started to open different cabinets, he heard a soft, “Paul?”
He felt his heart break, going as fast as he could to the cabinet where the voice came out. “Oh, George…” He was met with George curled up in a ball, arms wrapped around his knees. He had tears still rolling down his face. “Honey, how long have you been in here?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Paul started to help him out, pulling him into a tight hug. “Hey, shh… It’s okay. You didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I’m s-sorry.”
Paul started to rub circles into his back. “Geo, you didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no need to apologise.”
“But I didn’t w-wear a nappy, and look what it caused.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“But I didn’t put one on. Aren’t you mad at me?”
Paul pulled away from him, starting to lead him to a bathroom. “Well, I’m sure you had your reasons, and it’s not my place to judge. But I want you to know that I am definitely not mad at you. You didn’t choose to do this.”
“It was because of Ringo.” Paul looked over at him, and George continued. “I didn’t want him to know. I’m sorry.”
“That’s understandable. You know he’d never judge you for something like that, though, right?”
“I know. It’s just difficult to do it around him. You know, put one on.”
“You are more than welcome to come to my room to put one on if you need to. I’d never say no to that.”
They got to the bathroom, and Ringo met them in the hallway, carrying the bundle of sheets. “What should we do with these?”
“Oh, I’ll call room service and let them know about it, just leave them on the bed.” Paul smiled gently at him.
“Oh, alright.”
George kept his eyes down, even as Ringo left, and Paul noticed. “He really cares about you, George. You don’t have to feel embarrassed about it.”
“Sorry…”
“It’s alright. How long were you in the kitchen, anyway?” When George shrugged, Paul started moving into the bathroom again. “Well, you can always tell Ringo if it happens, and if you can’t, don’t be afraid to come and get me, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Paul.”
~
Everything was cleaned up that night when bedtime rolled around again, and once again, they were all in bed pretty early.
But once again, the next morning, George woke up in the middle of the night to soaking wet sheets. He hid his face in his hands and started to sob. He really didn’t want to go spend another night in the cabinet, and he knew he couldn’t stay in the bed.
He carefully got up, hearing as drops fell to the floor, and he cringed. He made his way to the bathroom to shower before returning to his room.
He carefully made his way over to Ringo, where he stood next to the bed for a good ten minutes, debating whether or not he really wanted to tell the drummer what had happened. Finally, he decided he would.
He gently shook him. “Richie…” Ringo rolled over.
“What is it, Geo? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know, Sorry, I just.. Nevermind.”
Ringo found the energy to sit up, eyes still closed. “No, no, it’s obviously important. What’s wrong?”
“I… Richie, I wet the bed. And I can’t sleep in my bed.”
It seemed like forever until Ringo responded. George contemplated going to tell Paul instead, but he heard the drummer say something. “Have you already had a shower?”
“Yeah…”
“Get in here,” he said, pulling the covers up. “It’s already warm.”
George was hesitant, but joined him under the covers anyway.
~
Morning came too soon, and Ringo was shaking him awake. “George, please wake up.”
George slowing came to consciousness, and when he felt it, his heart dropped. And Ringo was sitting right beside him, which meant Ringo was probably soaking wet, too.
“Oh, my God. I’m so, so sorry.” George couldn’t stop the wave of tears that overtook him. “I really didn’t mean it. Christ, Richie, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, Geo, it’s fine. I was just gonna see if you wanted to shower first while I get all the sheets taken care of.”
“No, you don’t have to do that. I can.”
“No, you should shower. I promise it’s fine.”
George hesitantly did go off to have a shower, and Ringo was left to pull the sheets off of both beds just as Paul came in.
“I heard George starting the shower, Richie. Is everything alright?” He then saw that both of the beds were stripped, and Ringo, too, was covered in piss. “Oh.”
“Paul, he’s so upset. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he keeps wetting the bed.”
Paul started to help Ringo with the sheets before getting him something to change into while George was in the shower. “He, er, he’s been doing it for a while, it’s nothing new.” Ringo grew quiet. Paul was quick to respond again. “He usually wears something.. You know. He said he was worried about wearing it around you though.”
“Oh. Well, he knows that I don’t mind, right?”
“I told him. I don’t think it matters, though. Look, it’s nothing personal. He still doesn’t feel too comfortable with it around John, either. It’s kind of a matter of time.”
“It’s fine. I could imagine it would be awkward.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna go check on him now. Are you good in here?” Ringo nodded, and Paul went to see George to find him leaving the bathroom with a towel around his waist.
“Paul…”
“Hey, you okay?” A nod. “George, if you need to stay in a room with me, we can arrange that.”
George quickly shook his head. “No, I can’t--”
“Ringo knows what’s going on, and I’m sure he won’t mind if you have to switch rooms.”
“No, Paul, it’s just that I… didn’t bring any nappies with me.”
George stared in trepidation as Paul looked on him with sadness.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s alright. But why didn’t you?”
“I knew I would be staying with Richie, and I didn’t want to put them on with him, so I just didn’t bring them. I know it’s super irresponsible, but--”
“It’s fine, George. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look, why don’t we get you some today, and then you won’t have to worry.”
“Okay.”
~
After everything was taken care of, George was sitting on the couch staring at a television set that wasn’t turned on. Ringo came to sit next to him, pulling him into a hug, which shocked the young guitarist.
“You’re amazing, George.”
“Oh… thanks, Richie.”
“You know that no matter what, you’re still gonna be my best mate, right?”
“Yeah. Hey, you don’t have to do this. I promise I’m fine.”
“I’m just talking. You really are the best.”
George snuggled in closer to Ringo. “Thanks, Rich.” He smiled to himself.