Yes, it was James, downcast and intoxicated, who wobbled on the edge of both his physical and mental safety. As Ringo ran along the ground towards the building, he could make out more figures on the rooftop, one was dressed in a clerical outfit the other in a business suit. Ringo cut through the crowd as quickly as possible and reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the roof. Two policemen guarded the entrance, but they parted to let Ringo through once he identified himself as a friend of the jumper. He could now hear bits of the conversation as he ran up the steps.
"--my son, it is not yet your time, step bac--" said a calm voice.
"Bloody hell, how would you know?!" replied James jerkily.
"Now think about this, are you in the financial position to let your relatives cover your funeral? Funerals are expensive you know, and if you're not in a stable position that could lend your family a lot of prob--" said another voice, slightly more nasal than the last.
"No one would care if I die," James commented rather sadly.
"Don't throw your life away. Things may come right," suggested the first voice again.
"Never," James replied, his voice quite steady and loud.
"You know, you're causing a lot of trauma right now.. you could be sued," stated the second voice.
Ringo began to wonder if these people were trying to get James down, or urging him to jump. The second seemed much more likely. Ringo finally reached the end of the stairs and burst out onto the roof.
"What the--!" started the police man, who hadn't spoken before.
"I'm a friend," explained Ringo.
"Perhaps you can help then," said the owner of the first voice, who turned out to be the man in clerical dress.
"Is this guy nuts?" asked the owner of the second, the man in a suit.
"I think you'd all better leave," said Ringo, knowing that if he started talking to James about tripping across worlds they'd both be thought insane.
"I can't--" started the policeman.
"GO!" yelled James.
Slowly and reluctantly, they backed up beyond hearing range, though not exactly gone, and watched.
"James, are you bent on killing someone?" Ringo asked angrily.
"You don't understand," James said, repressing a sob.
"You're right. Explain," asked Ringo, knowing that as long as he kept talking, James wouldn't jump.
Slowly James explained the entire episode, not quite sure of why he was telling Ringo...
"--there's nothing left," James finished, "no reasons left for living."
"There's still hope," Ringo encouraged. Now was not the time to debate whether James' tale was true or not. Whatever this guy had done in his past, Ringo couldn't let him just end it all.
"Hope?" asked James bitterly, "Hope is dead. I only have one hope left, and that is not to hit anyone when I fall."
"No," said Ringo, "don't you see? There's always *something* that you can do, there's a way out. There always is."
"Maybe that's the way it ends for you, but not for me," James looked down the edge of the building again.
"Not for me," he repeated.
"We'll find a way for you to get back..."
"Get back to what? A prison cell? A public execution? Life imprisonment? There's nothing for me there, and there's nothing here. There's NOTHING."
Ringo paused, daunted by the prospect.
"You're right," said Ringo, "there is nothing. Not if you do this. There won't be anything at all. But if you don't--"
"Then there's still nothing. It'll be a cold day in hell when someone like you figures out how to get back. You're no scientist."
Ringo was silent. As far as he knew, there was no way of getting back. James was right, he wasn't a scientist and didn't have the faintest clue.
"If you don't wait then there's no possible way that--" Ringo started.
"I'm sick of waiting for something to happen, and I'm sick of talk. I've hurt enough people in my life. It ends now," said James quietly.
With those words he turned and took one look down, then gave Ringo one last sad backward glance. James put out one foot to step over the edge...
...and vanished.
Yes, vanished. Not a trace of him remained on the rooftop, but neither did a trace fall to the ground. Ringo had barely enough time blink when James flashed back onto the rooftop. It was indeed with a flash, a slight glow that quickly faded into nonexistence.
Ringo ran forward and grabbed him.
James fainted, and Ringo dragged him the center of the roof.
The policeman, priest and lawyer who had been standing in the back of the roof now rushed forward.
"It's a miracle!" exclaimed the priest.
"Sure it is," replied the lawyer.
"Out of the way, clear it, we need to get this man to a hospital," blustered the police man.
"Wait," said Ringo, "he's coming out of it!"
"Hmm?" murmured James. He opened his eyes groggily, "Ring? That was some party..." he smiled, and then sat up.
"Give him some air," said Ringo, confused. The other people backed away, and slowly went back down the stairs.
"Come 'ed," James shook his head trying to clear it, "George'll kill us if we don't get to the studio on time."
Ringo gave him a blank stare, "But then you're Paul..."
"Who else would I be?" Paul asked, "Stop looking so damn concerned Ring. I'm fine."
As if to illustrate his point, Paul jumped up to his feet, "The one and only illustrious Beatle--" Paul staggered with a surprised look on his face, and fell.
"I didn't think I'd had quite *that* much," Paul muttered to himself, and then probably also to his surprise, he passed out.
Luckily by this time, the other people had left the rooftop. Ringo managed to pick Paul up and half carry him down to near the steps. If Ringo was correct in guessing what had just happened, Paul wouldn't be waking up for a bit. That was one of the few things that Ringo had figured out about this tripping through dimensions. In the shade of the stairwell, Ringo sat down to wait for Paul to wake up.
There was a lot of explaining to be done.
