Author's Note – Nothing to say…hope you enjoy this…and can someone please give me some ideas for fan fics? I'm fresh outta ideas. And this is…I don't know…it can be friendlove or love love…it doesn't matter. I wrote it as weakened friendlove.

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I quickly ducked my head to dodge the chair that was flying at my body. I was surprised it hadn't fallen apart yet, the way he was hurling it at me…

The glazed, glassy look in his eyes…this isn't the Roger I've known for almost eighteen years. The Roger Davis I know is sweet, funny, and most often…calm.

This Roger scared the living shit out of me. His whole body overcome by itself, drained of all self control.

I knew what would happen tomorrow. The same exact thing, that's what. This has been going on for about two weeks now, and God only knows when it's going to end.

Roger gave up on the chair and ran into the bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him, and I quickly seized the opportunity and locked him in.

When he realized that he had been imprisoned, he began to bang on the door, screaming, "I hate you!!! Out! Let me out! One fucking hit, it's not that much! I hate you, Mark!! I hate you! You don't care about me…or what happens to me…I hate you!"

The first time I had heard those words: 'I hate you, Mark,' we were in the eighth grade. I had somehow managed to steal a girl from him…we didn't speak to each other for weeks.

Tears sprang to my eyes on hearing those painful words again, but I quickly blinked them away, knowing that he didn't mean it…but it still hurt to see him so…weak.

The yelling and pounding and cursing went on for fifteen minutes, until finally, he gave up. When he stopped, I tiptoed over to the door to unlock it, but not before I saw my reflection in the mirror.

I didn't expect to be surprised, yet I was. I was used to the sweat and cuts that frequently covered my face while I took care of Roger. What surprised me were the tears. One on each cheek trailed down, leaving behind a shiny path of liquid.

I looked at myself for a minute, just looking. It's not worth all this, Mark. I said to myself. This is never gonna end… Then I remembered Roger and I getting April off drugs…and I remembered all the blood and sweat that it took…but never tears. Never. This is going to happen…it's going to work. My mind changed itself for me.

My hand reached up to my face to wipe the tears and I unlocked the wooden door and let myself in.

Tears sprang to my eyes again as I could only look at the shaking ball of Roger on the metal floor. He looked up at me, tears running down his dirty, unshaven face. "Mark…" was all he could say.

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. "I don't hate you, Mark," he whispered.

"I know."

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