Hard to say Goodbye to Yesterday

Disclaimer: I own no one

Summary: Maureen tries her hardest to say goodbye to Collins, her best friend.

Pairing: Maureen/ Collins Friendship

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Maureen Jefferson-Johnson gathered the black roses quietly, making sure not to wake her pregnant lover. She knew Joanne was finally getting sleep after what could only be described as the worst morning sickness ever. She knew Joanne was liable to bite her head off for even attempting to wake her up. She also knew that Joanne wouldn't want a reminder of the previous week's events. It was just too depressing for the young woman.

Clipping a leash to Roxy, their St Bernard puppy, she silently slipped into the quiet dusk of the morning. All the while, as she walked down the road, she was deep in thought. How could this past week have really happened? Could it all have been just a horrible nightmare? Would she wake up to find none of this was true?

"Where are you going?" a soft male voice murmured. Maureen jerked her head around, wondering if the slight New York accent belonged to the right person. "Going to see him?"

"Everyone needs flowers on their grave," she muttered, squatting to pet Roxy. "Besides, I don't want to admit he's gone," Even saying those two simple words caused her throat to swell up and tears to form in her eyes.

Earlier that week, her best friend had passed, after a ten-year struggle with AIDS. Nothing had seemed to help Collins. Treatment after treatment failed to stop the disease's rapid progression. Finally, a simple bout of pneumonia had taken him in his sleep, in the middle of the night at the hospital he had hated so much. Mark, his best friend, had been by his side, holding his hand, and just telling him it was alright to go and join Angel.

The funeral had been just yesterday. To Maureen, it just seemed surreal. How could Collins really be gone? It seemed impossible! Collins wasn't meant to die. He was supposed to live forever, to see the culmination of Maureen and Joanne's long battle to have a child. Maureen wasn't even sure if he realized Joanne was pregnant. She had told him, but wasn't sure if he had been lucid to comprehend what she had said.

"What are you doing up?" Maureen asked, tightly gripping the roses. As one of the thorns gently pierced her palm, she winced, managing to ignore the pain. The pain reminded her she was still alive, even if her best friend wasn't. The pain reminded her she could go on, even if it seemed impossible.

"I couldn't sleep," Mark admitted, yawning. "I can't help but think I'll wake up to see him hovering over me, quoting Socrates." He softly sighed. "He deserved to go though,"

"What do you mean?" Maureen murmured, tightly clutching the leash. "No one deserves to die,"

"Mo, he hasn't been the same since we lost Angel six years ago." He said. "He stayed long enough to help us get through Mimi and Roger's passing." His eyes were focused on the ground. "I miss them every day," His voice was thick with tears but he refused to cry.

"Who doesn't?" Maureen murmured. "I wanted him to hold our baby so badly. He was the only one I trusted enough to teach me how to give those shots because I was so afraid that I would hurt Joanne," She glanced down to Roxie, who was eagerly pulling. "He gave me Roxie after my second miscarriage and the point where we agreed it was time for Joanne to try this,"

Mark gently eased his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't think he'll ever really leave. Have you and Joanne discussed names yet?" Maureen nodded, wiping her eyes with the corner of her sleeve.

"Jessa Colleen for a girl, and Asher Thomas for a boy," she murmured. "Since we got a Roxie, and that was the name we were originally planning on using," She smirked. "Good thing it went on the dog…can you imagine a girl named Roxanne?" Mark shook his head.

"That would be bad," he said, pausing in front of the iron gates. "Maureen?"

"Yes, Mark?" she murmured, scratching Roxie's head.

"Did you intentionally move down the street from Angel's cemetery? I always meant to ask but never wanted to upset Collins," Maureen sighed.

"When he started getting really sick, he moved in with us since he had no family and didn't want to go into a hospice. Then, he wanted to see Angel more as he grew sicker but have you ever tried manipulating a wheelchair on the subway?" Mark shook his head. "It's almost impossible. Plus at this point, I was extremely sick, morning sickness before my second miscarriage. Then, there was the fact our apartment was just too small for Collins, and a baby." Mark nodded. "So, we looked into buying a new house but to make it easier on Collins, we decided to find something close to the cemetery." Mark nodded. "Then, we found this monstrosity, and started the processing of buying it. I miscarried, and while he was trying to pull me out of my depression, the house closed."

"So it was to make it easier for Collins?" Mark asked. She nodded. "You miss him, don't you?" She nodded. "It'll get easier."

"Does it really?" she asked, pushing the wrought iron gate open. Roxie trotted through the cemetery, almost as if galloping like a pony. "Because last time I checked, it takes longer than two days to get over your best friend's death,"

"Mo, calm down." Mark said. "I know that is the last thing you want to hear but it will get easier." He sighed. "After Roger went…I was so angry. I just wanted my best friend back. Then, I realized something. The Roger I had known just before his death wasn't the Roger I loved. He was merely a shell." He sighed. "Sometimes death is the best thing that can happen to someone even if they're not there with us."

"I should have gotten him an orange rose." She murmured. "In honor of all the fruit we mangled messing with syringes and saline." She began to laugh, through her tears. "That was so funny. He was the only one I trusted to teach me that." She sighed, wiping her eyes.

"You're remembering him." Mark said, pausing in front of the freshly dug ground. "That smile and the laugh. Make it your shining point when you think you're forgetting him."

"Did you know we'd be the only ones to survive?" Maureen asked, laying the roses down. "Did you have any clue?" Mark shook his head.

"I hadn't thought that." He said. "It's hard." He glanced down. "We're saying good bye to our past."

"The past influences the future." She said. "This is hard now, but he'll never be forgotten." She gently kneeled before the grave. "I will admit it's hard to say goodbye to yesterday, despite knowing the future brings."

Mark could only nod in agreement.

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