A/N: Soooo, this is my new story, I'm a bit worried, I've never written in Roger's POV. So please review and tell me how I'm doing
The is basically Roger telling the story through flashbacks, but sometimes skipping back to present day, Christmas eve. Sorry if it gets confusing, hopefully it won't. I hope you like it.
From the Soul of a Young Man
I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. I tried to wrap my hands in my sleeves, but it wasn't working well seeing as they were wet. All of my clothing was soaked now, thanks to the heavy mix of snow and rain. I could barely see two feet in front of me, which made me panic even more. He could be anywhere. I wanted to run, far, fast...all over the entire city. I couldn't, where there wasn't huge piles of snow, the streets were covered with ice. I even tried to call to him, the wind was so loud I doubted he could hear me. More panic was starting to set in. I couldn't believe this was happening, it just couldn't be.
I tried thinking back to earlier this evening. It was normal, well not normal like things were, but the normal loneliness of the past week. It was Angel who told me. Collins was already out searching the streets. At first I was happy to see her, not having talked for a few months. I could tell something was wrong right away. She wasn't smiling, Angel always smiles. I asked her how she was. But instead of answering she said my name and put her hand on my shoulder. There's something I need to tell you. Her voice shook, and then she just came out a said it. I asked her to repeat a couple times, hoping I heard her wrong.
"But how could he...how do you know?" I heard myself say.
"Paul from life support, he talked to him a few days ago, he said he didn't look too well. No ones scene him since then."
I still couldn't understand why this was happening, though it did explain a few things. Angel and I split up after that, hopping to cover more ground. But the blizzard was so hard to get through. My heart started to twist at the thought that he had probably been out in it all day. In my desperation I started kicking through the larger snow piles, fearing that he would be under one of them. What if he just collapsed, what if he froze to death? Each kick was heart breaking, I didn't find him, yet I didn't want to.
My chest was burning, from being exhausted and from the utter pain of looking for a needle in a hay stack. But it wasn't just some stupid needle I was looking for, it was one of the most precious things in my life. I was lost. I stopped running, realizing that this was getting nowhere. Nervousness I yelled out more, hoping that he could hear me, that he was able to answer. I was breathless when I thought I heard someone answer me. But it was Collins, far up the street, yelling his name as well. I leaned against a nearby lamp post for support.
"Where are you?" I whispered looking down at the pool of light I was standing in. I turned my head, noticing how the eerily light was illuminating the ally I was standing in front of. I was about to look away when something caught my eye. Something leaning next to a dumpster. It was small, I could just make out the shape...it was a person curled into a ball. I stood still, my heart dropped as I saw it; blue and white stripes.
"Mark?" I said, my whole body numb, hoping I wouldn't find the worst. No answer. "Mark," Moving closer I call him again. Yes, it was him; I ran and kneeled beside him. His head was resting on his knees.
"Mark! Are you okay, God say something!" I slowing lifted his head, his cheeks were bright red from the cold and his clothes were soaked too. He mumbled a little. Thank God! He wasn't dead. I saw that he was holding that greenish bag of his. I wrapped it around me and tried to help him. "Mark can you hear me? Can you walk?" No answer. "It's okay, I'll get you out of here." I picked him up. He was so limp it scared me, luckily he mumbled a bit again, reassuring me that he was still alive. Finding my strength I started to run again.
"Collins!" He and Angel were both there, I caught up to them. "I found him."
"Is he?" Angel looked like she might cry.
"No. But I don't know how..." I just couldn't bring myself to say it. "Let's get him back to the loft."
We seemed to get back in no time. Collins tried the phone, but I don't think he was getting anywhere. I took Mark to my bedroom. I had the nice new double bed, were as he, the old single. I remember that day we found the bed brand new. Mark let me have it, without even a fight. I casted his bag aside and laid him down. First I needed to get his clothes off, he would freeze otherwise. I pealed his shirt off, praying that any minute he would just wake up. He didn't. He had gotten skinner too. As I worked at getting the dry garments on him, cruel irony started setting in. Just last night I kept thinking how badly I wanted to strip Mark's clothes off, how I wanted him in my bed. I never thought it would be like this. I wrapped him in my blankets, making sure he was warm. I took off his glasses. He was far paler then he should be. I press my hand to his clammy forehead.
"Damn it!" I heard from the living room.
"What going on?" I ran out.
"I couldn't get through," Collins slammed down the phone.
"What do we do?" I had never said anything so hopelessly.
"Here." Angel handed me some pills, "These might help keep his fever down."
"Still, we can't get him to a hospital, not in this weather." Collins turned to me. "This is all your fault!"
"Tom!"
"No, it is his fault! You know it, he knows it!"
"Don't you dare." I threatened. I couldn't hear him say that. I wasn't ready.
"Tom, Roger. Stop It's Christmas eve..."
"Sorry," we muttered.
"I have an idea. I have a friend, a doctor, maybe I could go see if he's home, if he will help."
"Well, you're not going out there alone, I'm coming with you." Collins put his coat back on.
"You stay here with Mark," She hugged me tightly. "He needs you, and he'll be okay, you keep him safe." She whispered.
I didn't answer not wanting her to hear the sadness in my voice.
"We'll be back as soon as we can." They left me in a far too quiet apartment.
I slowly returned to my bedroom. There he was, teeth chattering, breathing erratically, and mumbling nonsense.
"Mark" I brushed his cheek, he was so cold "Can you hear me?" I stroked his hair. "Well even if you can't... I'm here okay. And I'm not going to go anywhere this time."
My words caught in my throat. I wouldn't leave him again, I shouldn't have left him in the first place. I couldn't look at him away more, so I got up and turned on the radio, not wanting to listen to my own thoughts. God rest ye merry gentleman stared to play. It was Mark's favourite Christmas song. It made me remember back to all those months ago, back to when this tragedy started.