Random inspiration from a song. Not sure if I should keep this a oneshot or not though...

I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.

"Collins . . . you're not really going to do this, are you?" Mark asked his friend. He was hoping that Collins was just playing some sort of sick joke on him. The serious look on the anarchist's face told him otherwise.

"I'm really doing it, Mark," Collins replied. He was sitting on his bed and staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him. "I wouldn't have told you about it if I wasn't planning to go through with it."

"But . . . you can't." Mark moved as if he was going to walk toward Collins' bed. He waited for his friend to respond.

"I think about her every day," Collins said. "Her smile mostly. I can picture her perfectly."

A silence that was very uncomfortable to Mark passed between them. It had been two years since Angel died and nine months since Collins moved back into the loft. To everyone else, Collins was coping with losing his love just fine, but Mark could see through the act. He could see past the false smiles and jokes. He could tell Collins was masking his grief and had walked in on the anarchist clutching a picture of Angel to his chest and sobbing many times. On those days, Mark would sit with his friend and comfort him, telling him everything would be okay and that he would see Angel again someday.

This wasn't one of those days. Collins called Mark into his room and completely opened up to him. He told the filmmaker about the dreams he'd been having about Angel and how much he truly missed her. Mark was actually beginning to become happy that Collins was finally letting all of this out. It was then that Collins revealed to the filmmaker, in detail, what he intended to do. As Mark's brain continued to process the information, he watched Collins' every move. He seemed to be mentally preparing himself to carry out his plan.

"You can't do this," Mark said. He had meant to sound stern, but his voice betrayed him. He walked to Collins' bed and sat down. "Did you even think about this? What about Maureen? She'll be heartbroken! Roger, Mimi, and Joanne will be too! Hell, even Benny will be affected by this!"

"Were you listening to me at all?" Collins asked. His voice was so calm.

"Yeah, but I still don't get it! We're all here for you, Collins! I mean, you and I have been best friends since kindergarten!"

"And that's exactly why I told you about this." Mark looked away from Collins. "I just want to be free, Mark. Free of the heartache."

"And you have to . . . go away to do that?"

"I'm not going away, Mark, I'm just . . . going on." Mark brought his attention back to his friend's face. His expression was just as calm as his voice. Mark felt an urge to cry.

"But I don't want you go anywhere," he said."I want you to stay right here. Please don't leave, Collins. I'll be so lost without you."

"Come with me then," Collins said. Mark gasped and his eyes grew wide. He wasn't expecting Collins to say anything like that. "There'll be lots of sun and it'll be nice and warm. I'm sure there'll be a place for both us." Mark stared blankly at the anarchist. His expression was still calm. "If you want to stay here, I'm fully prepared to go alone."

"Collins . . . I . . . I'm . . . not as brave as you are," Mark confessed. "I can't go with you." Mark's urge to cry came back. He felt a lump in his throat. "I'll still . . . handle the arrangements like you asked me to. And I'll make sure you're . . . next to Angel. I just . . . I just can't go with you." Collins gave an understanding nod.

"Then I'll see you whenever you get there," he replied. The anarchist stood up. "I promise I'll be waiting for you." He then slowly removed his beanie from his head and placed it in his friend's hand. "Give this to Mo for me."

Mark stared at the beanie as Collins left the room. He suddenly stood up and ran after his friend.

"Collins," he said. Collins, who had just opened the loft door, turned toward the filmmaker. It was quiet for a moment before Mark spoke again. "Say hi to Angel for me." Collins gave a small smile.

"Will do," he replied. As he stepped out of the door and shut it, Mark looked at the beanie again and let his tears fall freely.

"Goodbye, Collins," he whispered.

Review please.