TINY TINY TINY L A R G E

Not

George started to tear up, "P-Paul...?"

"Yes!" Paul sputtered in response. He fell down emotionally; it was too much for either of them to handle. 

And then another thought snapped into George's mind.

John disappearance last night now had reason. If he wasn't in the shower or anywhere else... What have I done?! George gasped at another idea.The water was on, did he drown?! The Beatle was so tense that a slight tap could have snapped him in two.

After another moment of brutal silence, George tried to choke out a question.

"Is Ringo like this too?" Paul's frown grew, his face growing pale.

"I haven't seen him..."

George's eyes widened and he spluttered, "well have you seen John?!"

"He's not with you?!" Paul exclaimed.

"He.. took a shower last night and I haven't seen him since then." George cringed at the thought and the possible circumstances tied to it. Paul said something in a quiet gasp, but George didn't make it out. Leaving Paul on the floor, he jumped up and rushed to the bathroom to find John.

George hastily opened the door, pulling back the shower drapes to see if John was still in the shower as he feared.

The drapes swooshed open to reveal an empty tub. With an anxious sigh, George also confirmed that the drain had too small of a gap for John to have slid through—that is, if he had shrunk to Paul's size. This gave George an ounce of hope that John may not have drowned. 

George turned around to further inspect the room. He noticed that the towel cabinet door was cracked open and inhaled sharply. He practically sprinted to the cabinet and thrust the door open.

At the introduction of the bathroom light, something flinched under the top layer of a towel.

"John?" George carefully pulled back the material and uncovered the small lump. His heart stopped.

There was John, legs pulled into his chest, laying on his side with his back to the door. 

"John??" George voice cracked.

John sat up, still not facing George, who gasped for air in relief that the small man was alive. George tried to pull out the hand towel, but the force of his pull jerked John's small body and he hit the towel, letting out a painful grunt.

"Hhh! Sorry!" George recoiled, wanting to slap himself—he would need to be gentle. He scooted closer to John, his head like a giant staring through the frame of the cabinet.

John collected himself turned to look at George with an unreadable expression. He shook his head.

"I'm an ant. I'm an ant George, the hell is this?"

George didn't have an ounce of willpower to admit that this was entirely his fault.

"I don't know... But it's happened to the other's too."

"-Paul and Ringo?" John asked in exclamation. "...Why not you?" The comment made George's stomach lurch.

"...It must have been the shower, it must have!" John declared. "They must have put something down the tap just last night! The fans or something! Some chemical scheme!" George swallowed and gave the tiniest nod to John's ludicrous theory.

"M-maybe... Paul's in th' lounge room. I-I'm not sure about Ringo."

John stood up, seeming incredibly sore from the horrible trek that he must have endeavored to get from the shower to the towel cabinet. He climbed down the towel mound and began to inch his way towards the door.

"John—John wait!" George shimmied over to him. "I can help you to the living room!" He would do anything he could to minimize John's pain. John looked back at him in disgust.

"No! You're giant, and I don't trust ye!" John piped up. "Ye'll drop me!"

"Promise I won't!" George whined. "Please, just let me lower a towel and you can climb on." George grabbed the smallest fresh cloth he could find and layered his palms with it, bowling it securely. He then knelt down carefully beside John.

John let out a sigh, "You'd better not drop me Harrison, or you're out of the band." He walked around George's makeshift basket as if spotting out the most comfy and secure section, and then warily climbed in.

George breathed a sigh of relief and carried John to the living room with the tenderness of a mother carrying her newborn child.

George had to strain his eyes to make out Paul, who was now sitting thoughtfully on the floor where he was left. Paul perked up when he felt the vibrations from George's steps.

"George! Don't leave me like that!" he yelled, turning to him with an angry glare. At the sound of Paul's voice John noticeably relaxed, glancing over the towel George's cupped hands to assure that it was indeed Paul.

George knelt down and lowered his arms slowly. John jumped away before he had fully lowered his hand to the floor and landed in a heap before quickly rushing towards Paul.

"John? John!!" Paul smiled, but after taking a longer glance at John his grin faltered. "John, you're naked."

John looked down at himself and back up at Paul. "Yeah, what did ye' expect? I'd come prancing in with a fancy suit?" Paul shook his head with his grin bouncing back.

"Here John, let me get you a towel like Paul has," George said quickly, getting up to find one. Before he reached the nightstand, however, he heard the front door creak open and froze.

"George, have you any luck in finding them?"