The city was marginally warmer this time of year, but when Mark went out to film his fingers still became numb within ten minutes of removing his gloves. Snow fell intermittently, not enough to make things look pretty but enough to cause spin outs and fender benders on the roads. As a consequence of the weather and the mood in the loft, Mark and Roger's way of life had continued much the same through the end of January and beginning of February. The fact that they now owned their building and the tent city seemed to remove any need for action; there was no danger of being kicked out, no danger of the tent city being shut down, and therefore nothing to do.

Collins had decided to move into their building a few floors down, since Rent was free, and save a little cash. He showed up several times a week with food and other supplies, but he was the only visitor to the loft. Of course it was only a matter of time before Maureen became bored of traversing the city by herself.

One morning around 11:30 the phone rang. Mark, who had just woken up, dragged himself out of bed immediately. It had been two weeks since the phone rang, so he assumed that someone back home was ill or there was some other crisis. Unfortunately for him, it was just Maureen.

"Open up baby, it's time for you and Roger to get back on track!"

"Open... what? Sorry? Open up what?"

"The door honey, we're waiting!"

Mark went to the door, unlocked it, and slid it aside. There was Maureen and Joanne, both with their arms full of grocery bags.

"Joanne, what're you doing here? Don't you have to work?" She gave him a look like he had lost his mind.

"It's Saturday Mark. Are you really that out of it?"

"Oh." He let them in. "Roger's in bed. I'll get him." After about twenty minutes and what he was pretty sure was hastily turning into a black eye, he gave up. Roger would not be getting out of bed till he was good and ready. Returning to the main room of the loft, he meant to offer Maureen and Joanne to sit down but found them in the process of clearing away weeks of filth and trash that had been left in disarray across the floor of the loft.

"You don't have to do that!" He was mortified that his ex's girlfriend was seeing what a slob he was.

"Don't be ridiculous." Joanne said, no-nonsense as always. "You and Roger have been going through a lot, we don't judge you. It's just time that you cleaned up and got out a bit. It's going to be spring soon, that will help."

Mark went to the window and gazed out at the gray sky and the blackened piles of snow along the curbs of the street. Filthy taxis plowed through a film of snow that was quickly turning to water in the streets. "I don't really feel spring just around the corner, Joanne. All I want to do is go back to sleep"

"Mark, you of all people!" Maureen exclaimed from across the room. "Get up and DO something. Go film. Get out to eat somewhere. Go shopping even! If you did anything, you wouldn't be so tired all the time." Mark wasn't entirely sure about this approach to his problem, but he certainly didn't care to argue with Maureen. At this point, if he tried to walk down the street he was pretty sure he'd fall over before he made it one block.

His meager train of thought was cut off by the emergence of Roger from his room. Roger looked terrible. He was wearing an old, old pair of plaid pants that were a good six inches too short and a t-shirt that was more hole than fabric. His hair had grown out even more and was tangled in a nest-like fashion on his head, and his face was pale and more lined then usual. Roger seemed to have aged ten yeas in the space of two months. Mark was immediately thankful that Maureen and Joanne were both smart women who knew what to do. They didn't fawn over Roger, as Mark had tried to do in the weeks after Mimi's death. Joanne went to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with breakfast for all four of them, and Maureen cleared a place for Roger to sit on the couch. As they ate the women made idle conversation, mostly with each other and occasionally with Mark. After about a half hour Maureen jumped up.

"Alright, we're cleaning up these dishes and then going!" Neither of them said a word to Roger the entire time, but right before they left first Joanne and then Maureen each gave him a hug.

"You can't stay in here forever, Roger" said Joanne quietly. And they left. The loft seemed a bit brighter after Maureen and Joanne had been there; maybe it was just cleaner. At any rate, Mark sat down on the newly cleared off couch, as far away from Roger as he could get. Roger, who seemed to have been in a trance-like state for most of the time since he'd awoke, finally looked around him.

"That was nice of them. Was I terrible company?" Mark smiled a little.

"Yeah, you were pretty nasty. You never said a word. Or even looked at them."

"I'm sorry."

"That's ok, I'm sure Maureen and Joanne understand..."

"No." Roger interrupted him and Mark looked over to find that Roger was actually looking at him - not talking to the air, as he had these past few weeks, but actually looking at Mark and talking to him. "I'm telling YOU I'm sorry, Mark. I've completely ignored you this past month or so." Mark wasn't sure what to say, so he made a feeble gesture with his hand as if to wave away the apology. There was silence for a few minutes.

"I'm just as much to blame" Mark said finally. "I've ignored you too."

"Look at us." Suddenly Roger was angry. "Sitting here, doing nothing, ignoring the fact that we have each other. We finally own this building, our problems with rent are finally done with, and all I can do is sit in my room and sleep. How useless is that?" Mark was lost for words. This was the most he'd heard Roger say since Mimi died. He said the only thing he could think of, did the only thing that was right.

"It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's not anyone's fault. This stuff just happens" he whispered, then he slid over slowly until he was next to Roger. Roger turned to stare at him, then threw his arms around his friend. Mark held Roger in return, and felt Roger begin to shake as he finally let go and cried for Mimi, for Angel, and for himself. Finally, Mark hoped, a breakthrough had been made. Maybe March would not only bring more daylight, but brighter things for all of them.