Heylo everyone! This is the long-awaited sequel to 'Bring me to life'. I know how much everyone's happy about that :)
Anyway, enjoy ch.1
A/N I don't know how long this is going to be, so bear with me.
It has been 3 months since Mark's suicide attempt
3 long, hard, and painful months
3 loving, funny, and almost happy months
Mark stared out the window thoughtfully as Roger watched him like a hawk from the metal table. Roger's been doing that ever since, Mark gulped, the suicide attempt.
He remembered that day so clearly; he was so sick, drunk, and in pain. And then an angel came, and saved Mark from his distress. The angel held him for a long time after he broke down, and after he fell asleep, the angel began to help him.
The angel, also known as Roger, cleaned the loft of any bottles, blades, and anything else he could harm himself with. Mark knew it must've been hard to do it, but he did it. His best friend, his buddy, who saved him and cared for him.
Once the buzz was gone and Mark awoke the next morning, his longing for either alcohol or a knife was strong, and he even got a little violent. But Roger saved him yet again from grief. He kept Mark away from anything that could cause harm, and it truly did help.
Mark slowly but surely healed over the 3 months, and many times Roger had to restrain the poor man and hold him when Mark threatened to run away and find anything he could hurt himself with; a knife, glass, a dirty needle...
Finally, after the third month anniversary of Roger's return, Mark was becoming more like himself. He wasn't violent, nor was he begging to cut or drink. Roger still watched him like a hawk, but Mark knew he deserved it. After all, he did almost commit suicide three months ago...
"You should eat."
..."What?"
"Eat. You haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch. You should eat, since Benny's paying for it all."
"When are you going to forgive him?"
Roger pretended to think about it, and answered with a curt, "Never. That son of a bitch let you hurt yourself, and you almost died that night. I don't forgive easily; especially since our ex-friend almost let you die."
It was around a week since Roger returned when said incident happened. Roger had to reluctantly call Benny to watch over Mark so he could gather his stuff from the singer's house he stayed in for that very long month apart.
When Roger returned a little while later, he was met by a bleeding, almost unconscious Mark with a knife in his hand in the middle of the living room. Everything happened in a flurry. Roger ran over to Mark, and took off his shirt so he could stop the bleeding; Roger calling out for Benny, and kept muttering, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit..." under his breath; Mark became dizzy and blacking out; Mark vaguely hearing Roger yell into the phone, "YOU ASSHOLE! YOU BELIEVED HIM WHEN HE SAID 'I'M FINE'? YOU MOTHER FUCKER, HE WAS LYING! YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO DISTINGUISH A LIE SINCE YOU'RE A LIAR YOURSELF YOU SON OF A BITCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LEFT HIM! YOU FUCKER!"; him waking up to bandages on his arms and a worried and pissed off Roger sitting beside the bed he was in (that he did not remember getting into).
After that, Roger never left the house, and made Benny get the groceries, medicine, and everything else, since Roger refused to let that night go, and used it to make Benny guilty and buy them stuff and pay for everything.
"He didn't almost let me die, Rog. And remember, I tricked him. It's not his fault; he honestly thought I was okay."
"Just shut up, Mark. You were barely conscious. You don't know what you're talking about." Roger sighed, talking a bite from his Captain Crunch.
"Shut up yourself." Mark muttered under his breath as Roger suddenly got up from his seat and moved throughout the kitchen. Mark ignored him of course, until Roger was right in front of him, and was holding out a bowl of Captain Crunch in his hand.
"I'm not hungry."
"I don't care. E-A-T."
"Can't make me."
"Oh yes I can. I can pin you to the floor and make you eat it. You know I can pin you down easily."
"Roger..." Mark warned.
"Mark...You're way too skinny for my liking. Eat."
"Rog..."
"Markkk." Roger whined, holding out the bowl until it was right in front of Mark's face. Despite the fact that Mark wasn't hungry, he sighed and took it anyway. Mark took a small bite, and rolled his eyes. "Happy?"
"Extremely."
"Whatever."
~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~
"Here, Mark. An extra blanket. I don't get it though. It's warming up outside, and the heat is on full blast...yet there you are, shivering like hell yet sweating like crazy."
"I'm sick Rog; go away." Mark chattered, the extra blanket not warming him up at all.
"Pfft. Yeah, okay, that's so going to happen."
"I guess I deserve that."
Suddenly, Roger came over to Mark, and sat beside him on the couch. "Come 'ere." Roger said, opening his arms. "I-I gue-guess." Mark stuttered, and instantly moved closer to a warm Roger. "Jeez, Mark, your freezing."
"I-I don't c-care."
"Well I do. The moment you've gotten over this cold and are able to hold something in, I'm feeding you until you're at least 300 lbs."
"Good luck with that." Mark whispered, trying to keep the rising bile in his stomach.
The war didn't last long though; Mark lost the instant it came into his mouth. He ripped himself out of Roger's embrace, and ran towards the bathroom. He heaved up anything that was in his stomach (which wasn't much; a small piece of toast and some coffee), and soon enough everything was emptied and all he was doing was dry heaves.
Roger stayed close the whole time; rubbing Mark's back, placing a cool hand on his forehead, whispering "It's okay." Like it was a mantra. The rocker still didn`t really know how to help the filmmaker, so he did whatever Mark did himself during his withdrawal.
"Dude, you`re throwing up way too much. We should take you to the doctor's." Roger commented, still patting Mark's back, despite the fact that most of the throwing up was over.
"N-No. You k-know how much I h-hate the fuck-fucking doctor's." Mark stuttered, being overwhelmed by chills.
"Hey, hey. I'll get you some water, and you can curl up on the couch with a large blanket, alright? By the way," Roger said, filling up a nearby glass with tap water, "if your 'cold' gets any worse, you're going to the doctor, and I don't care how much you hate them."
"Fine." Mark groaned not up to discussion.
~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~
"Mark? Where you going?"
"Out."
"Out?" Roger said incredulously.
"Rog, I'm not going to go look for alcohol or something sharp. My addictions aren't as powerful as yours was."
"Want me to come with you?"
"No Rog. I'm only going out to film. I miss filming."
Roger smiled, "Okay. Awesome. I can't wait to see the footage."
Mark smiled back, even though he knew he wouldn't be getting any footage today.
~~~~~~~~~~::~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, Mr. Cohen. I'm Dr. Strouss, and I'll be doing your HIV test today. First, I'll like to ask you a few questions."
"Okay." Mark sighed, his nerves building up. He decided to lie to Roger this morning so he wouldn't have to tell him what Mark suspected was the 'cold'. Mark gulped. He was so nervous. He didn't want HIV, but he had too many symptoms for comfort.
Fever and/or night sweats.
He's had that for the past week, which was why at first they thought it was a cold.
Easy bruising.
He got a bruise on his hand from falling off the couch in his sleep.
Bouts of extreme exhaustion
Some days, he just wants to sleep and not get up.
Unexplained weight loss.
Roger didn't know it, but in the past month or so, he lost 26 pounds, making him only 102 lbs. He thought it was from the lack of food, but even on the days that there was a lot of hunger; Mark still managed to lose 3-5 pounds.
Vomiting.
It happened at least once a day now ever since that first night when Roger suggested the doctor's.
"First question: how would you have contracted HIV?"
"I…slept with a man 3 months ago." It wasn't the truth of course. He didn't want to tell the doctor that the man refused to pay for the service, but still wanted sex. He didn't want to tell her that he fucking took what he wanted in an alley without Mark's consent.
He didn't want to tell her he was raped.
"Did you use protection?"
"No."
"Was the man HIV+?"
"I don't know."
"So, you slept with a man without protection, and didn't ask if he was HIV+?"
"That's right."
"Okay, M. Cohen. What else…What symptoms do you have? Just to see if it could be anything else."
"Fever & night sweats, weight loss that doesn't make any sense, I'm tired all the time, vomiting, and I easily bruise now."
"And you think it's HIV?"
"Yes…Do you think it could be HIV?"
"Probably, M. Cohen."
"Okay…"
DUN DUN DUN DUN…Could Mark have HIV? Who knows…
