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    A week had passed by, that made it two weeks since George had been kidnapped; two weeks since George had been lost from the world; two weeks since he'd been torn away from his mates.
    Two weeks since he'd been thrown to some dark and scary hole all alone without anyone to help him.
    The Beatles had flat out refused to leave their mate. They refused to get on the plane that was meant to take them back to Liverpool, John threatening to fight Brian if he sided with the cops who told them to go home. The journalists, reporters, and most of the rest of the Beatles entourage had been sent home but the Beatles themselves had remained behind. Along with Brian, Mal, and Neil who more or less kept to themselves.
    A press conference was being negotiated. The whole point of it, as Detective Malkin had tried to explain, was to try and humaize George's kidnapper. It was obvious to the Beatles he hadn't seen the clues in the photographs that George was being held in a smugglers house much like the one in Jack Wilkins house.
    "Many times the people who are kidnapped are viewed as objects by their captors." the detective said, the Beatles trying hard not to listen because it put upsetting images in their mind, "By doing the press conference we could spark some humanity into the captor. Make him see George as a person, not an object."
    Brian nodded, "So what would the boys say?"
    "They'd talk about George mostly, they'd remind the kidnapper George is a person and please ask him to think about Georges position. But," He looked at the boys, "Yoy cannot, under any circumstances, accuse the kidnapper, make him feel small or worthless. It'll make him angry and he wont listen."
    The boys nodded and Brian clapped his hands, "I'll go set it up then. Boys get ready, and thank you detective."
    The detective nodded as Brian left the room.
@-->---
    George was only half aware of what was going on. He didn't hurt everywhere anymore, that much atleast, thanks to the drugs that had dulled the pain by alot.
    He moaned when Amanda shook him awake anyway though.
    "What?" He asked, "What are... what are you doing?"
    "Stand up, quick." She said, sounding rushed.
    "Where are we going?"
    "The living room."
    "Why?" George asked as he was stood up. He started to fall forward but Amanda held him upright. She then began to walk him towards the stairs.
    "You're friends are on the television. Daddy said it'd be okay to let you see them." They were nearing the top now, Amanda having to more or less carry George up the stairs as his legs were slowly turning to mush. The lights danced around his eyes, the sounds he heard echoed in his ears and everything moved slowly and dubplicated as it moved around like he was looking at it under water.
    Amanda sat him down in a wooden chair, which was sitting inbetween the couch and a large easy chair. George felt his eyes close, only to have his hair yanked back by large, cold hands.
    "You'll want to watch this," Eric hissed in his ear, "It's probably going to be the last time you see them again."
    "What?" George asked, looking at the tv.
@-->---
    The usually calm and collected Beatles, well three of them atleast, appeared uncomfortable and ill at ease. The fouth chair, usually where George would have sat, stood empty beside Ringo, who kept accidentally brushing it with his elbow or his foot no matter how hard he tried to keep that from happening. One could see the pain in the lines and shadows of their faces, the anger in Johns and the guilt in Ringos. The microphones sat before them, seeming to pick every sound they made up and brodcasting it to the world.
    Detective Malkin was sitting in the front row among the reporters, watching them. Next to him were two police officers and standing off to the side of the platform was Brian, who shook a fist of strength and encouragment at John before it was time to begin.
    Paul spoke first. His throat was dry and ready to close up. The pressure was unbelievable. Talking to a kidnapper without having any idea of how they were reacting or if George was even close enough to hear what was going on. He probably wasn't... he was probably locked in a basement somewhere... alone and trapped. It was probably dark and... Paul couldn't continue his thought. Instead, he opened his mouth.
    "This press conference isn't like our normal ones, that's for sure," He started the pressure increasing, "We're holding this one with a purpose in mind: to talk to George."
    The crowd immeadiatly quieted, everyone waiting to see what Paul would say next. John and Ringo remained stone faced, letting Paul do the talking.
    "We were told that one way to maybe convince the kidnappers to let George go was to talk to him, to remind him George is a person and a person is not an object. Not a thing you can lock away or store somewhere until you want to use it. He's alive and he's hurting. He's a Beatle, he's a guitarist, he's a singer, and he's a no-good teddy boy kid from Liverpool, England." Paul said and John bit his lip, looking anywhere but the crowd.
    "George is a really sweet kid, just talk to him and you'll see. I promise. He wont hurt you." Paul said, his mind spinning as he tried to remain focused on what he was supposed to say. He wished one of the others would jump in but it didn't seem like they were going to.
@-->---
    "Is that true Georgie boy?" Eric giggled in George's ear as George tried to watch, "Are you a sweet little boy?"
    George shrunk back from Eric, trying not to fall off the chair. He saw the dark haired girl, Rebecca, smirk at him from the couch and he looked back at the TV.
    "We're here to ask George's kidnapper to let him go." Paul said over the tv, which had zoomed in on the bassist's face, "We were told to ask you that by the detective here. But John, Ritchie, and I know you're probably not gonna do that. So we, ourselves want to ask you to atleast treat him nice. Better than you have been."
    How did they know how these people had been treating him? George wondered, his drug-hazed mind momentarily forgetting about such things as cameras and photographs.
    "And we wanted to also ask George to hold on." Paul continued, "George we're coming for you. We will find you, and when we do we're going to make sure this goes away. I promise."
    "Hold on George." Ringo pleaded, speaking for the first time.
    "We wont let anyone forget you." John promised, staring right at the camera, right through George.
@-->---
    Paul cleared his throat, his hands coming loose on the table and laying there limp as he tried to think of something to say.
    "We're a band." Ringo jumped in, taking Paul's hand, "But we're also brothers. To me atleast anyway, someone who's never had brothers isn't really gonna know what that's like but I feel like I do. And George it's not the same without you. There's no one to side with me when Paul and John gang up on us, and there's no one to share Paul's jelly babies with when we steal them on the plane."
    "I'll be watchin' for that." Paul smiled, pointing at the camera's like it was George. Hoping to make George smile.
    "George I need you too," John said, taking Paul's other hand, "I need someone to buy me presents after going to the dentist with me and sitting there while I make life difficult for them and the poor sod pokin' me teeth. You of all people know how much I hate that. 'Cause you hate it too, so next time we go I'll get you somethin' real nice, promise."
@-->---
    "George we know you're scared, and it's okay, but don't worry." Paul said, taking back over. The others were gripping his hands now tightly, George could see their knuckles turning white through the screen, "Because we're coming. And we wont let anyone hurt you again."
    "And to the ruddy old arse who took him," John said, his face coloring, "Just know we don't forgive easy. Especially when Joj-ie's involved."
    "We'll take your questions now." Paul said after seeing someone off screen give him a gesture. It was probably Brian, George surmised, Brian always knew when and what to do. Mr. Public Image he was...
    A voice of a reporter asked, "Can you share a story of Mr. Harrison?"
    "I remember once I introduced my friend to him," Paul said almost immeadiatly, "Almost instantly George head butted him to the ground. When I asked him why he merely said the bloke wasn't worthy of my friendship." George smiled at the memory, the guy really wasn't.
    "He took a black eye for defendin' me at the Cavern when I first joined the band." Ringo said. George remembered that too, and he remembered how much it hurt afterwards.
    "What do you expect the kidnapper is doing to Mr. Harrison right now?" Another reporter asked.
    George could see the angry annoyance flash across John's face as he answered, "Treatin' him to fish and chips hopefully. But he's probably doin' something else."
    "What would that be?"
    "Well I don't know now do I?" John snapped, "We don't have any access to him, haven't for two weeks." That's how long he'd been missing? Felt longer...
    George watched the press conferece continue, surprised he was able to follow everything with how tired and out of it he was. But he held onto every word his friends said, gripping his fingers together as he listened to them talk to him, like he was right there, and talk about him. They shared stories that alot of people knew but we're about him anyway. They made the reporters laugh as Ringo told them how George did this and John talked about George doing that. But it was getting hard to stay awake as the drugs ran through his system, making everything confusing and sleepy.
    He felt his eyes start to slip closed when he head Brian announce that was enough questions. That the press conference was over. George looked at the TV screen, feeling something close to loss. He didn't want them to go, he didn't want it to end. No! They had to stay! George wanted to see their faces one more time...
    As if they could hear the wishes George was thinking, his three closest friends turned to the cameras again as they stood up, holding eachothers hands tightly and standing strong.
    "Joj-ie it's gonna be allright." They said together, promising a way out of the hell George was sitting in.
    "We're comin' for you Geo," Paul said, "We're bustin' down doors and chasing bad guys like in the action movies."
    George nodded, smiling at Paul's words.
    Then he watched them walk offstage, their image replaced by a reporter who began to talk but George was no longer listening. He had his eyes closed, trying to see his friends in his mind, one last time.