Title: Looking For Maureen

Rating: T

Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Maureen dumped Mark. My take on Marky's reaction. mentions of MarkMaureen romance and gobs MarkRoger friendship in this fic

Notes: Based on the song by Michael Peter Smith.

He sat there with me. For a long time, neither of us spoke, silence hanging between us like an iron veil. He gazed at me, gently, jaw set. It was the type of gaze that didn't make you feel uncomfortable, but still let you know someone was watching you.

I hated doing this. I hated how I was always so numb to everything.

It was almost as if I didn't quite realize deep down what had happened. Like I didn't hear the sorrowful words that Maureen used to tell me she was in love with… someone else.

I took a small breath, my lips finally curling into one simple word. "Fuck."

The corners of his mouth curved upward a bit. "You said it, pal."

I sighed, hating how I probably looked so vulnerable to Roger right now. He shouldn't be sitting here, worrying about me. I'm not the one finally turning around after months of agonizing withdrawals. I'm not the one who had AIDS. It wasn't my girlfriend's blood that tinted the porcelain tub pink.

Oh no. My girlfriend didn't kill herself. But she sure was killing me.

I love her… I thought blindly, not remembering what it was like to not love Maureen Johnson.

With a stretch across the space between us, he wrapped one arm over my shoulder, his eyes dulled and tired-looking. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I felt like a middle-schooler in a guidance counselor's office. But Roger's arm was warm and comforting. With a gulp, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

It seemed to fall, like a boulder, into my stomach.

Upon my heart.

"I know what I'm supposed to do." I began in a small voice. "I'm supposed to move on with my life now… supposed to forget all those times we had together. But I don't know how to."

Roger shook his head. "Mark, don't forget. Maureen was too big of a part of your life to forget."

Her name sent a flash of pain through me. My eyes squeezed shut.

"You're right." I breathed. "She was… that's precisely the problem."

"Remember the good times, Marky." Roger told me softly. I looked quickly at him, catching that distant look in his eyes. Instantly, I felt terrible, knowing now he was thinking of April.

The pain was still raw and fresh. All of a sudden, I want to change the subject. But he spoke again.

"Don't let the fact that those times are over dominate your life, man. You've got no reason not to move on."

I hated the fact that I could tell he was hurting. And I was too, no doubt. But what I saw in his eyes made me feel like crying, breaking down and letting all the emotions out.

Before he could utter another word, I sat up a bit and I blurted out the first thing I thought of. "We used to play hide and go seek."

"I remember." A faint smile. A rarity these days from him. It encouraged me to keep talking.
"We must've been seven… played it all the time. And you did sometimes too."

"She was always the best at it."

"You sucked."

"Shut up, Mark." He growled.

I laughed noiselessly. "In that schoolyard, it was pretty hard to find a place to hide. But we tried."

"We still do." Roger muttered strangely, and I found myself almost at the point of understanding what he meant.

"You used to hide behind a tree every time." I called him out, and he smiled again.

"Not a tree, not always. Once, I just curled up on the pavement. What was the point? I've never been good at hiding. Whatever I'm trying to escape from always finds me in the end." Roger said then, with a bitter laugh.

"And you two always made me be 'it'." I recalled suddenly.

Roger nodded into his mug of coffee.

"And I would just… close my eyes and count real slow…" I mumbled, trailing off as a small tear formed in my eye. I cursed it, and at the fact that Roger lowered his cup at that exact moment, and caught a glimpse of it.

"Mark…" He started.

I shook my head, feeling that familiar arm around my shoulders once again. "You were always so easy to find. Usually nearby, actually."

He didn't answer. He merely watched, waiting for me to continue.

"It seems to me…" I sniffed a bit through my nose, hating how pitiful that sounded. "… that I was always looking for Maureen."

Somehow, saying her name that time empowered me a bit, and I pressed on, not letting the moisture brushing my eyelashes bother me.

"And when we played 'Who Do You Love?'" I blathered on, barely knowing what I was saying. "Remember that?"

"She invented it. We were about… eleven?" Roger responded quietly.

I nodded. That was about right. "I always thought of Maureen."

"I know you did, man." Roger said, voice cracking a bit. "I know."

"I used to send her valentines." I told him. Something I'd never told anyone. "It didn't even have to be Valentine's Day. With honey bees that said Bee Mine."

He couldn't betray a small glance of surprise.

I smiled listlessly. "Oh, I never signed my name though."

"I figured as much." He laughed again, and so did I. "When was that?"

"Sixth grade, I think." Even though I remembered exactly. "And by the time we were going into high school… Cindy let me know that a couple girls liked me."

There was a lapse of quiet between us.

"But I was always looking for Maureen." I repeated, feeling a warm tear drip onto my sweater.

His hand squeezes my shoulder and he rubs my back. "It's okay, man."

Doubtless it wasn't. Maybe it would be someday. But right now, I doubted it.

"I saw her once over the summer before ninth grade." I started again, feeling Roger's attention upon me. "Down at the shore… they had a carnival every year. Cindy made me go, and turns out… she was there."

He nods slowly.

"You were on vacation in Jersey with your mother." I told him.

"Was I?" He squinted in an effort to remember.

"At that carnival…" I took a shaky breath. "Roger, I think that was when I realized that I really did love her… I saw her and… thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

I winced at the cheesy line, expecting a teasing reply. To my pleasant surprise, Roger was silent, regarding me.

"We went back on my birthday. The day I turned twenty one." I shifted slightly, turning to face him. "It was pretty fun, and I hate carnivals. We rode the merry-go-round. And the Ferris Wheel. We got lost in the haunted house…"

Roger laughed again.

I smiled then. "I was scared shitless, but she loved it, as you can imagine."

"Yeah, I know her." Roger confirmed.

"I kissed her…" I closed my eyes. "I told her I thought she was beautiful."

"And then?" Roger coaxed.

"We tried to figure out how to get the fuck out of there." I chuckled dryly. "We started to walk down this narrow hallway full of green and purple smoke. I wanted to hold her hand… but I turned around… and she wasn't there."

A small sob burst out of my chest and I hiccupped loudly. "She wasn't there." I repeated, like a pathetic mantra.

"Why wasn't she there?!" I moaned; face falling into my hands, tears leaking through my fingers. "I was looking for her… but I lost her in there… ! How could I have lost her, Roger…? Why wasn't she there?!"

And as I broke down, bawling, Roger scooted closer, letting me cry into his shoulder, like he always had.

"Mark… oh shit, Mark … it'll be okay... its okay, man." He rubbed my back, palms tracing circles as I shook in his arms.

My best friend Roger Davis sat there with me for several minutes, before I raised my head, eyes puffy.

"Roger…" I choked. "I've been playing hide & seek all my life, haven't I?"

He said nothing. He didn't have to.

I was always looking for Maureen.

Just a short oneshot type thing I wrote randomly today. I found the song "Looking for Maureen" and I thought it amazingly fit our Maureen so I made this as a result.

Some things to consider:

The meaning of these things... (virtual cookies to those who try and analyze any of them)

If you don't that's ok. I'm just a geek. :)

1.) I laughed noiselessly. "In that schoolyard, it was pretty hard to find a place to hide. But we tried."

"We still do." Roger muttered strangely, and I found myself almost at the point of understanding what he meant.

2.) "Not a tree, not always. Once, I just curled up on the pavement. What was the point? I've never been good at hiding. Whatever I'm trying to escape from always finds me in the end." Roger said then, with a bitter laugh.

3.) I shook my head, feeling that familiar arm around my shoulders once again. "You were always so easy to find. Usually nearby, actually."

4.) The ending, I suppose. But that SHOULD be obvious.

... ah, whatever. Just... um...

Please let me know how I did.

Unless you hated it.

Because, as we all know well, flames hurt. Ask Anakin.