As Mark stepped foot into the loft, he was greeted by the sound of Roger's bedroom door slamming. He braced himself, and sure enough, seconds later a distraught looking Mimi practically ran by him.
"Whoa, Mimi, slow down. What's wrong?"
"He won't -" she cut off, shaking her head frantically, and proceeded to run out of the loft.
Mark sighed. He hated how frequent their fights were becoming. Timidly, he made his towards where he knew Roger would be: lying on his bed, brooding with guitar in hand. It was the same thing every time. Mark found himself remembering Roger's withdrawal, and wondering which was time was worse.
"Hey Roger," Mark said quietly, afraid of rattling Roger's temper.
"She left," Roger remarked bitterly, slamming his guitar onto the pillow.
"I saw," Mark said, "Are you guys okay?"
Roger clenched his jaw, shaking his head in thought, "She doesn't get it."
"Get what?" Mark ventured further into the room, taking a seat next to Roger on the bed.
"How hard this is. Seeing her like this – dying. " His voice broke harshly on the last word, and Mark felt his own emotions swimming in his chest. He knew in his heart that everything could change in this instance. He knew that Roger would listen to him if he told him to try to detach himself from Mimi before it became too unbearable. But he also knew that he could never do that to either of them.
"But you need her," Mark said, knowing that Roger couldn't imagine how hard it was to say those words.
"I know," Roger replied, wiping at his eyes. There was a moment's silence and then, "Yeah, okay. Thanks Mark. I'll go find her." Roger went to Mimi; Mark went to his camera.
Three weeks later, the whole gang's there – clustered around Mimi's bedside. Mark finds it reminiscent of Angel's last few days, and again compares the two times in his mind.
His thoughts are shattered as Mimi coughs violently and Roger whirls around in panic. "Guys, give us a minute?" He's nearly pleading, and Mark feels Maureen's cool hand on his arm, pulling him out the door. They all know that it won't be long now.
The minutes in the hall are dreadful. The four of them cling together, crying and worrying as one, but all Mark wants is to comfort Roger. Moments later Roger comes back out, his eyes darting around hauntingly.
"You should come back in, to say-" He doesn't need to finish; they know what he means. They each talk to Mimi briefly, saying words that won't mean much in the grand scheme of things. And then, at the tale end of the hour, she's gone. It doesn't take more than a second's glance to know it.
Roger falls apart, as Mark knew he would. He feels his own eyes fill, watching Roger huddling over Mimi's corpse, untouchable by any of them. Even when she's dead and Mark's alive, she is the one he turns too. And Mark realizes that no matter how much he may care about his best friend, that just isn't enough. Mimi was the threads that made him whole, and without her there is no way to keep him together.