George stood in the first floor foyer silently, staring at the doors of the studio's building that lead out into the rest of the world. He could hear the city life muffled through the doors. He felt light headed, as if his mind was in a haze. Ringo came up next to him, his eyes looking over the dead expression on his face.

"You all right, mate?" Ringo asked softly.

George blinked and he inhaled deeply. "You know..." he started. "The last time I walked through those doors, I was a Beatle." He looked at Ringo. "Who am I going to be when I walk through them this one last time?" Of course, it would not be the last time, George figured, but at the moment, he was sure he never wanted to come back here, not for a long time at least.

Ringo shrugged. "That's easy; you're going to be George Harrison. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

George's gaze drifted downwards, down to the floor. "I don't seem to recall him..."

Ringo smirked. "Sure you do. You just couldn't see him through that mop top o' yours." He remarked with a laugh, ruffling George's hair a little with his hand. George couldn't help but give a chuckle, though it soon faded and he looked back at the doors again.

"I almost don't wanna go out there...it's like...if I do, then it will be real. The breakup will be real."

Ringo could understand. He felt the same way. He didn't even want to go near the entrance, feeling as if there was a horrifying beast waiting outside to devour them, or a black hole ready to suck them in. However, would the world be so much more different now? It would. The Beatles had been more than just a band, especially to them. Their lives had changed, and so did the world's. The world didn't know they were no longer together, but he and George knew, and that was painful enough.

But Paul had been right. Ever since Brian died, they started sliding downhill. Ringo had felt rather restrained. Whenever he suggested a change to a song, Paul or John would shut him out. When he wrote a song on his own it was up to Paul or John to decide if it was good enough or not. They did the same thing to George, who was just as fed up with it as he was. Maybe this was for the best. No longer would he or George would have to follow Paul and John's demands. Ringo didn't blame them though; they had gone under the same pressure from each other.

Ringo examined George. It appeared he couldn't see all of this through the miserable brick wall in his mind. He sighed and rubbed George's arm. "Hey, remember when we went to India ?"

George looked at Ringo. "The first time? Yeah...why?"

"You remember how I went home early and you guys stayed behind for more meditation and all that, right? You got back and spent an entire day over at me house telling me all about the stuff you did?"

"Yeah..." George spoke slowly. "What's your point?"

Ringo suppressed a laugh. "Remember how you told me about life and death? That it was just a soul going from one body to another. I remember exactly how you explained it to me. You said, 'the soul enters the body and goes from birth to death, then leaves the body and enters a new one. It's just like taking your clothes off and putting new ones on.' Remember that?"

George blinked and nodded. "Sure I do. Why do you ask?" He loved Ringo to bits but boy did he know how to draw out his point!

"Well...this situation can't be much different. Look at it this way. You are a soul or whatever, and the body you entered was...well...The Beatles. Now you have left that body, and you have yet to enter a new one. Alternatively, you are George, and the clothes, er...'outfit' you put on was The Beatles. Now you have outgrown your clothes 'cos you've grown up a bit since then, and now you've taken them off. D'you get where I'm going?"

George stood for a spell, calculating Ringo's words, before giving a single nod of his head. He was more surprised at how Ringo explained it to him. He was rather impressed, to say the least. "Umm...yeah. You mean...with The Beatles being the clothes I've taken off that I should...join a new band?"

"Well," Ringo started with a shrug. "You can do whatever you want. You can be in a band or maybe a solo act. Whatever you feel is best. I'm just tryin' to get you to look at the upside here."

George smiled. All this just to cheer him up? "What're you gonna do then?"

Ringo shrugged again. "Haven't had the time to think about it, have I? Dunno really, but a solo career sounds appealing. Y'know...there is more freedom and all of that. Dunno who'd by me records though." Ringo added jokingly, still trying to get a laugh or two out of his mate.

George looked down at the floor as he thought about it, but before he had the time to sink fully into his thoughts; Ringo tugged on his arm and pulled him to the door.

"So, George..." He started that signature Starkey grin on his face, with an undeniable cheeky element added in. "Let’s take our clothes off."

A grin spread across George's face, a fit of giggles coming through, at Ringo's very unexpected innuendo before he even realized it. The pair laughed and George let his friend take him by the hand and lead him out the door. Instantly, all of the thoughts had left George's mind upon seeing Ringo smile, hearing him talk. Nothing else mattered more.

Suddenly, there they were, on the sidewalk in front of the Apple building. George looked up the sidewalk, then down the other side, barely looking over Ringo's head to see. He felt Ringo let go of his hand and he suddenly felt vulnerable. He swallowed hard.

"How do you suppose they'll react?" George asked, watching people walk by mostly unaware of who they were walking past.

"Dunno." Ringo replied rather grimly considering the giggling fit they had exiting the building. "It'll be pretty bad for some, I'm sure."

"Some...to say the least..." George whispered, not to Ringo or to anyone. He sighed as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Guess I'll be off. I mean...Mo's off to see family, took the kids with her, so it's not like I've got anything to go home too..." Ringo spoke quietly, looking down at the grey cement sidewalk. "But I'm no use out about town with what's happened..."

George nodded. "Today's been kinda shot now, huh?"

"Hmm..." Ringo sounded in agreement. "You take a car today? Or did you walk? 'Cos I can give you a lift..."

George glanced sideways at Ringo. "Naw, I walked. Wanted to think for a bit before I got here. Might as well do the same leaving. Go on home, I'll be fine."

Not even looking back up at George, Ringo nodded. "Right."


"See you." George spoke awkwardly, not really wanting to go a separate path from his friend. The last thing he wanted to do was crawl home, especially alone.

Ringo only nodded and turned, walking down the sidewalk to his car. George turned to the opposite direction and began to walk. He couldn't help his head as it hung rather miserably, the up-turned collar of his jacket brushing his collarbone. It was like some dream; it looked and sounded real enough but it didn't feel real. There was something about it that just didn't seem right. Breaking up the band was actually a rather absurd idea. George had dedicated most of eight years to this band, to their music. This band and this music was all he had ever really known, since he was a teenager. He went from being a teenager to becoming an adult while being in this band. To have it end so suddenly...it was just shattering to him. It was like living your whole life believing in God until one day you somehow discover that he never even existed. He believed in the Beatles. How do you go on living without something you had believed in during the most important years of your living?

George's worry about the others bothered his poor mind. After this was all said and done, would they part ways for good? Detach themselves from each other and never look back? As upset as George was, and despite the rows and fights he had with them before, he wanted anything than to never have John and Paul in his life after this. It was bad enough they were breaking up the band, but they had been his friends since he was a kid. Hell, he had known Paul longer than he could remember.

What worried George more was Ringo. After this was all said and done, would Ringo still be there for him? Would he still be around so George could be there for him as well? Poor bloke was the emotional one of the group, he could be taking this harder than he was letting on. George's heart ached as he thought of his mate. Most of all, George didn't want to go home alone. It wasn't that he didn't want to go home to an empty house (although that was only part of it) but something deep down was pulling at him, begging him to turn around, follow after Ringo and take up that car ride. There was something about him that didn't want to leave his side.

Now that they were no longer a band, even though not officially, the last thing George wanted to do was be apart from Ringo.

George approached the street corner and stood, waiting for the crosswalk signal to change. All of this stress made him hurt for a cigarette. He dug around in his pockets and recovered his cigarette pack, but his lighter was nowhere to be found. He checked his pants pockets but the traffic in front of him stopped. He glanced up to see the signal changed and began to walk but there was a car parked perfectly over the crossing. George furrowed his brow before he realized he knew that car from somewhere.

The passenger window rolled down and Ringo, bending over from the driver's seat, smiled at him. George smiled in surprise.

"What're you doin' there?" George asked, leaning in to see Ringo better.

"Well this is my car, innit?" Ringo replied humorously, but the smile faded quickly and he opened the passenger door. "C'mere, would you?"

Not thinking to turn him down, George slipped into the car without hesitation. It was only after he got into the car was when his curiosity in the situation peaked. He opened his mouth to say something when Ringo handed his lighter over, which he watched him dig out of his jacket moments before.

"Y' left this, first off." Ringo spoke, half smiling as George took it.

"Ta." George said with a thankful nod before stuffing it safely into his own jacket pocket. "So what's goin' on? Need to talk 'bout something?"

Ringo heaved a sigh, looking ahead and drumming his fingers a little anxiously on the steering wheel. "Well...I just..." Another sigh. "I've been thinking a while. Y'know, 'bout...us. You n' me."

"What about you and me?" George inquired further.

"Everything." Ringo replied simply. "Just...everything we had." He turned his head to the guitarist. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

George nodded. He did know what Ringo was talking about.

"I know we've kind of moved on from all that stuff but...I miss it. I didn't like sneaking behind Mo's back exactly...but I want it back. I want you back."

"You want us back." George spoke, watching Ringo nod in return. George's eyes drifted down as Ringo continued.

"I meant t' ask you a while ago, but..." The older man paused for a moment. "I figured you had moved on or something...Y’know, stopped lovin' me and all that."

George's eyes looked up, lips parting in surprise to Ringo's words. "Ring...what would make you think that?"

Slightly bashful, Ringo shrugged. George gave a half-smile and leaned over to Ringo, cupping his chin in his hand and kissing his lips. George felt Ringo's fingers slip into his hair and lips press into his own as he kissed back. Being the first kiss in years, it seemed to last for an hour. For George, it was everything that he wanted now; it was a feeling of comfort, of something safe and familiar. The last time Ringo's lips had met his, they were Beatles. They were happy and successful and nothing could go wrong. George knew a kiss or a rekindled flame couldn't bring all of that back, but Ringo was all he had to dull the pain. Not only the pain of the loss of his band, but also the pain he carried of being without his fellow bandmate. It had been long and torturous, but it didn't have to be like that anymore.

A painfully loud car horn sounded behind them and the pair jumped suddenly, George flying back from Ringo and the drummer in question flipping around to look out the back windshield. He growled in annoyance and turned, sticking his head out the door window to yell at the disturbance behind his car.

"Yeah yeah, all right!" Ringo shouted, bringing the car from its parked state and into first gear.

"Bleedin' tosser, if he knew who I was..." Ringo growled, turning onto the street in front of him.

George on the other hand was laughing to himself at how badly he had jumped. He looked at Ringo and took one of his hands off the steering wheel, curling it into his own and holding onto it. He ran his fingertips over the rings and knuckles admiringly and Ringo smiled at him, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at the guitarist.

"Take me home with you." George spoke, a hint of asking in his voice, still looking down at Ringo's hand resting in both of his own. He felt Ringo grip his hand a little.

"I was hoping you'd ask me to." Ringo spoke softly.

George looked out the car door window, remembering his thoughts as he walked down the sidewalk he was watching fly by. The questions that plagued him were answered with that kiss. Ringo would be there for him, and he would be there for Ringo. George even knew now that Paul and John would not be out of his life. As sappy as it seemed, their love was just too unique for it to end over their band splitting up. Even after this, George knew they would come together, for whatever reason. They loved each other too much to keep from each other forever. George would still have John, Paul, and especially Ringo.

Nothing, not even their band's break up, would change that.