He saw the growing pool of blood next to Paul�s left arm and realized they had to do something to stop the bleeding. He looked up at George.
"I think we should tie it off with something," George said hesitantly.
"And what would that something be exactly?" John was about to snap at him, when suddenly an idea struck him. He yanked his tie off his neck. "Right, where do we tie this bloody thing?" he muttered.
"Somewhere above the gash I�d imagine�" George said, his voice trailing off.
"Oh, sod it!" John said impatiently and tied his tie tightly around Paul�s injured arm, just above the deep gash. To his surprise, the steady flow of blood that had been seeping from the wound actually seemed to slow down a bit as a result.
However, Paul hadn�t even flinched throughout John�s actions, which George thought was rather worrisome.
Still, John felt a twinge of hope; Paul�s chest was steadily moving up and down, indicating that he was at least alive and breathing.
Encouraged by this fact, he slowly and carefully turned Paul over onto his back. He gasped at the sight of Paul�s chest. It seemed strangely �dented� and was black and blue.
Noticing again that Paul�s upper body was near to naked, he shrugged off his Beatle jacket and covered Paul with it. He then bent forward and peered into Paul�s pale, bruised face. He narrowed his eyes. He could�ve sworn he saw Paul�s eyes move. I�ve got to get me better contacts!
He gently tapped Paul�s cheek and squinted into his mate�s face. "Paul? Can you hear me?"
There was a sigh, followed by a soft groan.
John bent further forward so that his nose was only inches from Paul�s. Now he could see that Paul�s eyes were indeed moving! "Macca! Macca, wake up," he coaxed, reverting to a nickname he sometimes used when he felt particularly fond of Paul. "Can you hear me, Paul?"
Paul slowly became aware of a voice uttering his name. Leave me alone! he thought. Somebody tapped his cheeks. He sighed. Bloody hell. Then, almost instantly, he felt a sharp pain in his arm, a searing pain in his chest and his body ached all over. He let out a soft groan.
Again, he was being called.
He forced his eyelids open. His eyes slowly focused and�he was startled out of his wits by a looming, squinting face hovering about an inch from his nose. "Christ!" Paul croaked, trying to push himself up on his elbows, but only ending up gasping in pain.
"Paul!" John cried, relief evident in his voice. "Paul, it�s alright, it�s only me!"
Paul blinked. "Bloody hell, Lennon. DON�T do that," he muttered weakly when he recognized his friend. "What happen�oh Christ," Paul interrupted himself, as the images came flooding back to him. He lay back down, suddenly feeling nauseous.
"Are you alright, Paul?" George asked, concerned.
"Do I bloody look alright?" Paul whispered irritably, and then sighed, grimacing. He was rapidly beginning to feel worse. "Sorry, Geo."
"S�okay, Paul."
"It hurts to breathe�" Paul murmured, his eyes rolling shut. Indeed, his breathing began to sound more laboured.
Suddenly fearing again for his friend�s life, John grasped Paul�s cold right hand. "Paul?" he asked.
Paul�s eyes opened only slightly, his head was feeling as though it was about to explode. "Wha�?"
"Just checkin� you were still with us."
The corners of Paul�s mouth turned upwards, just a little bit. "S-sorry to disappoint you," he whispered faintly. He shivered. "I�m cold."
John looked around. "What the bloody hell is taking Ringo?!"
As though on cue, Ringo came running towards them with Neil, Mal and Brian in his wake.
"Well? Where�s that bloody doctor, son?" John asked, looking at Ringo.
"He�s on his way, he was patching up a girl who didn�t seem to be in very good shape either," Ringo replied, kneeling next to George. "He told us to keep him awake at all costs."
"And an ambulance is on its way, Paul," Neil piped up.
Paul nodded gratefully.
"How are you feeling, Paul?" Brian asked.
Paul�s lips moved, but no sound came out. John bent forward to listen and a slow smile spread across his face. "Close enough, mate," he replied, sniggering.
The others looked at him questioningly.
"He says he feels like he�s been trampled by a herd of elephants," John explained.
"More like a herd of mammoths," George remarked dryly.
Paul�s teeth started to chatter. George thought that had to be a result from both the blood loss and the shock. He too pulled off his jacket and laid it over Paul. Ringo, Mal and Neil followed his example. Brian used his to pillow Paul�s head.
"Ta," Paul said faintly, his eyes drooping.
John squeezed his hand. "Hang in there, Macca."
Paul was shivering uncontrollably now, which had a bad effect on his chest injury. He clenched his eyes shut against the pain; every shiver sent a pain through his chest as though somebody was beating him with a hammer.
"Paul?" John asked; he was frightened by his friend�s violent shaking. He was afraid he might be having a seizure of some kind.
Paul didn�t open his eyes. His lips were pressed together tightly, determined not to let a single sound escape.
"Excuse me," Ringo heard someone say behind him. Relief swept through him as he realized the doctor had arrived.
George, Ringo, Mal and Neil stood up to make room. John was about to do the same, but Paul held on to his hand tightly. He looked down at Paul, who had opened his eyes briefly, and saw the fear in his large, hazel brown eyes.
John brought his lips to Paul�s ear. "It�s ok, Paul. We�re all here for ye," he whispered and received a soft squeeze in reply.
The doctor talked to Paul as though nothing serious was going on, whilst he subjected him to a short, but thorough examination.
Meanwhile, they could hear sirens drawing near. Brian was off to guide them to where Paul lay. A few minutes later he and two ambulance attendants burst in, carrying a stretcher.
They stole a few glances at John, George and Ringo, but when the doctor started to talk to them rapidly, they turned their attention to Paul.
"He�s in hypovolaemic shock, possible internal injuries, head trauma, rib fractures," the doctor was saying, more to himself than anything. The other Beatles exchanged worried glances.
The two attendants quickly strapped Paul to a backboard and then lifted him onto a stretcher. All the while, Paul kept his eyes clenched shut and tightened his grip on John�s hand, still shivering.
However, suddenly John felt Paul�s hand go limp. He looked at Paul and saw that his hand wasn�t the only thing that had gone limp. "Aye!" John exclaimed in a sudden panic. "Aye, he�s out!"
The doctor looked down at the injured Beatle worriedly, just as Brian pulled him aside. "How does it look?" he asked quietly.
"Not too good, hypovolaemic shock alone can be fatal," the doctor replied grimly as he watched the ambulance personnel push the stretcher with Paul on it and John still by his side towards one of the exits. The doctor quickly followed, giving the attendants instructions as he went. George, Mal and Neil hurried to keep up.
Brian looked up to see Ringo looking at him with a questioning gaze. Brian knew what he wanted to know, but he didn�t have the heart to tell him. Instead, he quickly turned his head away.
That was all Ringo needed to know. He shook his head sadly and quickly ran off in pursuit of the others.
