1999
"What the hell?" George blinked sleepily. "I could've sworn I heard something."
"Mmph," Ringo muttered in his sleep.
A shadow loomed over him, and pain immediately coursed through his body. "AGH!" Stabbing, someone was stabbing him. He raised his hands up in an attempt to shield himself, but it wasn't working. After a quick blow to the chest, he started having trouble breathing. "Go away," he gasped.
"GEORGIE!" Ringo tackled the figure, hitting him with the lamp. "Shit!" It broke pretty quickly, so he grabbed the nearby poker from the fireplace. "NO ONE EVER HURTS ME FAMILY, EVER!"
"DAD!" Elica burst through the door, dragging her daughter Julia behind her.
"SON. OF. A. BITCH!" With one final blow, the man was unconscious. Ringo dropped the poker, panting in exhaustion. "Oh, oh no!" He quickly knelt down to check for a pulse. "Oh Christ, I thought I killed him!"
"Call for help," George rasped, clutching his chest.
"Julia, go!" The fifteen-year-old nodded, rushing to the phone. "Dad!" Elica took his hand. "It's okay, everything is going to be okay!"
---
2001
"Heh. I've been hit by a bus, punched for defending you, stabbed over forty times, but goddamned cancer is the one thing going to get me. Life is funny that way."
"Don't talk like that, you'll be fine." Julia patted his head as her little sister Linda reached for his hand. "Don't give up on us."
"Why on earth would I give up when I have two wonderful granddaughters who care about me?" George grasped her hand.
"Oh, dad." Elica wiped her eyes as Julian patted her.
"Don't scare the children," Ringo scolded playfully.
"Yes, whatever you say." But he was scared too.