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A Horrid Realization

"So we actually break up," George muttered miserably.
"Don't we have the power to reunite or something like that?" Paul frowned. He noticed that Ringo was skipping around from article to article.
"I'm afraid not," Ringo mentioned quietly.
"Why not? What happened? Does everything stay alright?" John panicked, his eyes widening.
Ringo simply gave John a sad look, one that held too much emotion.
"Don't look at me that way! Just tell me what happens!"
After a few moments of whispering between his fellow band-mates, George placed his hands onto John's shoulders, appearing as though he had a lot to say.
"John, what do you think happened?"
"Is it just me-specific?"
"No," George sighed. "I'm involved, too."
"What about Paul and Ringo? Why not them?" John's panic arose even more, his heart racing.
"This same city. 1980–"
"Stop it. That's all I need to know," John demanded frustratedly.
After a few moments of pure silence, John spoke up again.
"Whatever. Honestly, whatever. Sure, yeah. Of course that's got to happen. Was—am I peaceful, at least?"
"Unconscious for most of it," George murmured.
John sucked in a deep breath, making a large attempt to keep himself composed fully.
In a quick movement, he snatched the phone away from Ringo, peering down at it. He had to know more than this. Much more.
Not specifically about his immensely unfortunate fate, but everything that happened beforehand. Did he stay completely successful as a musician? What did he do when his band broke up?
All of this information was completely at his fingertips, and he wasn't going to back away from it.
After he was finished with the rush of absolute knowledge, he shoved the phone into his pocket, the action receiving a nasty look from Ringo.
"So," he began. "I've been assassinated?"
"I suppose you have, John. We're all terribly sorry," George sympathized.
"Well, is Cynthia there as it happens? Julian?"
"Different wife, actually. Her name is Yoko," Ringo informed, a sorrowful tang to his voice. John nodded, pulling the phone back out of his pocket.
He typed in a few words, hoping that a result would come out.
John sighed as a couple of pictures popped up of Yoko, and a child that wasn't Julian. He knew who that was from his earlier searches. John placed the phone back into his pocket again.
Something else tugged at his thoughts, the fact that he also learned how George had died.