Hey you, out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old
Can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles
Can you feel me?

Angel stopped to catch her breath before she walked down the stairs into the subway station. She'd run the last ten blocks from the clinic and the reality of what had happened there was finally starting to sink in. It was if her body had tried to physically flee the news the kindhearted (and cute) young doctor hadn't gotten the chance to break to her properly.

HIV-antigen: Positive

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the image on the paper, leaning against the dirty tile column below the streets of the city she alternately loved and hated.

Meant she was like China now. She nodded, still unable to fully comprehend the implications of the test result. Her mind whirling wildly, she seized on yet another consequence, this one less unpleasant. Have to quit now, she thought, smiling slightly. The job she so hated was no more. No more drunken bums and friends of Pietro with their hands all over her. Their. . . She shuddered slightly and shook off the thought. Oddly, she felt light enough that she was certain she'd blow away with the rushing air pushed in front of the approaching train. She opened her eyes and looked down at the tracks before the train covered her view. Would be as simple as. . . A man bumped into her in his rush to get to the door first, breaking that macabre thought pattern.

"Sorry lady," he said, turning back to look at her. Then a faint groan. "Ugh." It was all Angel could do most days not to beat a guy's head in for treating her that way, but today she let it go. Wasn't really in her realm of awareness at this moment. All she wanted was to get home. Mimi would be there, she was certain of it, would know just what to do.

Hey you, don't help them to bury the light
Don't give in without a fight.

Taking the last flight of stairs two at a time, Angel quickly pulled the chain with her key out of her shirt and off over her head in one practiced movement, not even knocking her wig askew. Before she even threw open the front door, she knew that the place was empty. "Meems?" she called out into the tiny apartment. Just to be certain, she went back to the little bedroom they shared in the very back of the place. There was no Mimi in the bed. No sign of Mimi anywhere. "Meems?" Angel called again, just to be certain. No reply. Suddenly exhausted, Angel collapsed on the bed, grey sleep taking her before she even had a chance to kick off her beloved platform heels.

Hey you, out there on your own
Sitting naked by the phone
Would you touch me?
Hey you, with your ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?

Angel spent all of the next day in the bed she and Mimi shared, having shed her shoes at some point. Her wig lay in a tangled and forlorn mess on the floor, not unlike its owner in the bed. If she'd cared, she might have noticed that her face was a streaked mess of mascara and melted makeup. Her clothes, of which she was so proud and which she took great care, were wrinkled and dirty. Sometime around 3pm, she slouched into the living room, dragging the comforter from her bed behind her. She dropped onto the couch, one thought only on her mind; Still no Mimi. It wasn't uncommon for the two not to see each other for days on end, and while Angel always missed her friend when she was away, she never really worried. Mimi could take care of herself. Can I? Angel wondered briefly. Stretching out on the couch with the blanket, she recurled herself into a tiny ball, trying to disappear, as she always did when she was upset or afraid. Today she was both.

Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I'm coming home

Awakening, Angel heard the sound of voices in the hall just outside her door. Normally, she wouldn't have awakened unless the people were inside the room with her, but what if Mimi were back? She listen intently as a lock was opened, and the voices faded, their laughter drawn into another apartment across the hall. Her world was silent again for the moment. Stretching out, she lay flat on her back eyes open but unseeing and seemed to stare at the ceiling. There're knives in the kitchen, her brain informed her. "And razorblades in the bathroom," she continued, aloud this time, her usually exuberant voice no more than a croak. "No," she decided, again aloud, and curled back into her blankets. No matter what happens, I'm not putting Mimi at risk, she thought, closing her eyes, self-pity washing over her again.

But it was only fantasy.
The wall was too high,
As you can see.
No matter how he tried,
He could not break free.
And the worms ate into his brain. .

The first birds were chirping by the time Angel moved again. She stared sightlessly at a crack in the wall, following its progression from floor to ceiling and back again as her mind played in a loop a scene from a few days past. Bet it's still up there, she thought, thinking of the stash she'd found while chasing a cockroach. Mimi'd promised her she'd quit this time, but Angel hadn't really believed her. Everything I'd need is up there, her brain told her. It'd be quick, painless, wouldn't leave a mess. Might even feel good. She shook her head, refuting the thought. "S'isn't you, Angel," she muttered to herself. In truth she was frightening herself, but she couldn't seem to stop thinking that way. Everything had changed in the past couple of days, why not that? Just stop, she told herself.

Hey you, standing in the road
Always doing what you're told,
Can you help me?

She'd tried, but for the past 24 hours nearly every time she'd awakened, her mind went back up into that cabinet. "Probably won't even still be there," she muttered, finally dragging herself off the couch where she'd stayed for the better part of three days, only getting up to get water in the bathroom, occasionally eating just a little bit. She had shied away from the kitchen as much as she could without realizing it, but now she opened the cabinet door and pushed herself up onto the countertop, beyond curious at this point. Still there. Angel moved quickly away and jumped down, shutting the cabinet door with a soft bang.

The longer she stayed awake, the more promising that stash became. Finally, shaking her head, she went back into the kitchen, pushing back up onto the counter and took down the freezer bag which contained all of Mimi's equipment, including two syringes in the bottom. Carrying it in front of her, pinched between two fingers, Angel brought the bag to the living room and put it on the makeshift coffee table. She retreated back to the couch and wrapped herself in her blanket, unable to tear her eyes from the bag on the table.

For hours, she contemplated that bag, her attention repeatedly drawn to the orange plastic which held the little metal needle into the syringe.

It must've been around 4am when finally she got up off that couch, so drained by everything that had happened and the absolute certainty that Mimi wasn't coming back. She knew what she needed, but she didn't allow herself to think about it as she gathered a candle and lighter (It's cold in here is all), then went to the kitchen. It occurred to her that she should be using distilled water, that was what Jerome had always done, but then she laughed a little grimly at her own logic and turned on the tap. She didn't even bother to try to justify the spoon to herself.

Hey you, out there beyond the wall,
Breaking bottles in the hall,
Can you help me?

"Jesus, Angel!"

The words cut through the haze. She was unable to identify where they were coming from or from whom. Maybe I'm being introduced, she thought muzzily, guessing she was dead. Hands slapping her cheeks, soft sobbing sounds coming from somewhere right in front of her.

"Oh God, Ang, c'mon honey, please!!"

Mimi. Angel tried to say her friend's name but it was all but impossible. Her head lolled back slightly, her eyes opening slowly, just a bit, not really enough to see her friend. "Hi, Meems," she managed, voice barely above a breath. "Don't touch the needle, ok?" She wasn't sure that last bit had been audible, and it was important, so she said it again. "Don't touch it."

"C'mon Ang, look at me!" Mimi insisted, her voice still thick. "Stay with me sweetie!" Angel tried to obey, tried to open her eyes just a little bit more, but it wasn't happening. It was hard to breathe.

"Angel!" Mimi's voice, high and panicky. "Please don't honey! Oh God!" Angel felt herself being rolled onto her back, Mimi's mouth on hers, her breath in her mouth, breathing for her. "Gonna have Jimmy and Caroline call 911, sweetie," she said from somewhere far away, giving Angel one last breath before jumping up and sprinting across the hall.

It seemed to take hours for Mimi to return. Breathing was so hard, it was all Angel could concentrate on, but she managed until her friend returned. "Help," she murmured breathily when it became hard again. Mimi did, breathing for her friend occasionally until the ambulance came. Angel was dimly aware of being lifted onto a gurney. The oxygen mask felt strange, she wanted to claw it off before she realized it was possible to get her own breath again. She heard Mimi arguing with the paramedics just before she fell into a deep sleep.

Hey you, don't tell me there's no hope at all

The first thing she was aware of was the hard unfamiliar bed. She never slept on her back, what was that about? Then the pain in her head invaded her senses. She opened her eyes and the pain intensified as she was looking into overhead lights. They weren't exceptionally strong, but the light hurt anyway. The next thing she attended to was that her left hand was warmer than the rest of her body. Slowly she turned to look at it, find out why. She smiled painfully seeing the familiar sprawl of tangled brown hair on the sheet next to her leg. Mimi had hold of her hand and was sleeping with only her head on the bed. That smile faded as guilt washed over her.

"M'sorry Meems," she said quietly, her voice only a little stronger than it had been back at the apartment.

Mimi stirred at the sound of her name, lifting her head to look at Angel. "Ang!" she said with a smile. She rubbed one hand over her face sleepily, but didn't take her swollen eyes off her friend. "How d'you feel?"

"Terrible," Angel admitted softly. "Like I got run over by a bus."

"Don't do that again, honey," Mimi ordered, kissing the back of the hand she still held. "You scared the shit out of me, girl."

Angel nodded agreement. "I won't," she promised. "Was dumb."

"You're damned right it was," Mimi retorted. A long but not uncomfortable silence fell between them. Angel turned her head and looked around at the tubes and wires connected to her. Her eyes followed the IV down to the back of her hand. No more needles, she promised herself, looking at the one currently sticking out of her skin. Her eyes travelled further down to her hand, her attention momentarily distracted by the pretty metallic blue polish on her nails. It made her smile.

"Like this color," she commented softly, wiggling her fingers. "You do it?"

"Yeah," Mimi admitted. Leave it to Angel to notice something trivial at a moment like this. "Your nails were such an ugly color 'cause of. . .well 'cause of no oxygen, so I had this color in my purse and I decided it was prettier."

"It is," Angel agreed. "Much prettier."

"The doctor accidentally told me you were sick sweetheart," Mimi admitted abruptly. "S'that why you didn't want me to touch the needle?" Her smile fading, Angel could only nod in reply. "S'that why you did this?"

"Yes. No. I don't know why I did it," Angel replied, all her reasons sounding foolish now.

"Yeah, well, I need you, so you can't be doing it again."

"Won't," Angel repeated, grinning ever so slightly.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good," Mimi replied, her smile fading as she thought over her own last few days. "'Cause I . . ."

"What honey?" Angel asked, falling into their old patterns of Angel rescuing Mimi. It felt good.

Mimi cleared her throat and licked her lips.

"I went in for my own test on Monday," she admitted, the first time she'd said it aloud. "Met an old boyfriend on the street, he told me to go in." Her eyes clouded. Telling herself she wasn't allowed self-pity right now didn't help, there were too many emotions involved.

"Oh sweetie!" Angel exclaimed sympathetically, opening her arms to her friend. Releasing her friend's hand, Mimi settled gratefully into her embrace.

Together we stand, divided we fall.