She stepped out of the cab feeling like she was going to throw up. She hated hospitals. The stark white colors, the smells, the sense of death that was always lurking over you. It was like a vortex that was going to suck you in and never let you go.

She was terrified as she found herself roaming the halls, especially since the last time she was in this hospital was when Angel had been hospitalized before she... She began to feel dizzy under the lights. The air felt thick and heavy. All the doctors watched her intently as she wandered to figure out where she was going.

Once she found the room, she tried to prepare herself for what she was going to see, although she pretty much already knew what had happened, and also for what Mark was going to do or say to her.

She attempted to calm her shaky nerves, and slowly stepped inside. The room was dimly lit. Mark was sitting next to the bed where Roger was laying. Roger was so pale and thin. He didn't look like the Roger she remembered.

Tubes were connected to his body. They were beeping and humming. Incessantly. There were a multitude of machines around him. Mimi realized that they were keeping him alive.

Mimi felt her tears well at the sight of him like that. How did this happen? Roger was so healthy the last time she saw him, wasn't he? Mark turned his head to her before turning away.

She walked up to the bed and kissed Roger on the head. He shifted slightly before stopping. She turned and pulled the other chair to the other side of the bed. She didn't want to face Mark like this, but she knew if she didn't do it now, she would never be able to again.

Mark felt like she shouldn't be there. He was beginning to regret calling her. She shouldn't be in their presence. He was so angry. But in another way, he was relieved. She was there; that was all that mattered right now. If anything were to happen, she was there. Mark tried not to think about that.

"Mark," she said quietly, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Mimi," he replied simply, not bothering to turn his head. She dropped hers.

"Please," she pleaded. She knew she deserved some of this. But when someone wouldn't even look at her, she began to doubt everything.

He turned his head slowly. As he looked at her in the almost dismal state, he felt himself become less angry. Her makeup was running down her face in thin rivers. "I don't know how I can explain myself," she cried.

"Why don't you start at the beginning, then?" Mark answered, crossing his arms. "You tell me what happened, and I'll let you know what's going on," he said, motioning to Roger.

She nodded, grabbing a tissue. She was a little put off that he was blackmailing her, but if she had to do it to find out what was wrong with Roger, then she would do it. "Well, when Angel became sick, I basically couldn't believe it. Here was this person with the same disease as me, actually taking care of herself, while I was the one on drugs, putting myself in danger. She deserved to live more than I ever did. And when I thought about how that could be me any day now, I thought I about how much I want to get my life on track before it actually happened. I didn't want to die. I didn't want that to be me. But what actually happened was the more I tried to get off the stuff, the more I wanted it, the more I desired it. I had to have it."

"And as Roger saw that, he became more distant. He thought I wasn't even trying, when I was trying the hardest I ever had. We became farther apart. He didn't care that I was addicted. I know he quit the stuff cold turkey, but he had you to lean on for support. You were there for him during all the symptoms he experienced during withdrawal. I had Roger before he moved, and then Benny, but I then left Benny after Angel died. I couldn't take myself. I didn't like myself and what I was going to become. And I didn't really want to be a burden."

"I got some money from my mom and moved to place a couple blocks away under the name Lana. I quit working at the Cat Scratch and began working at a drug store. At the same time, I was in rehab. I didn't think it was going to take this long. I also didn't think you guys were going to think that there was something wrong. I just- just needed a break from all this. When I saw you that day, I got a hit from reality, reminding me that there were people out there who needed me back home. I just did what I needed to get back as soon as I could. When I got those messages, I realized by leaving, I made my life, along with yours, worse than I had expected. I thought by leaving and getting my head together, I was going to help. I was wrong, Mark. I'm sorry."

Mark sat there for a moment, as she wiped away more tears. That was her story? She needed to gather her thoughts and get clean? She could have done it by staying here! Mark had never been angrier in his life. "Well, I'm happy that you're sorry, and I'm happy you're back," he said shortly.

Her face twisted in disbelief. "Oh, yeah right. Be honest, Mark. Lying and sarcasm were left behind in middle school," she uttered angrily

"You want me to be honest?! Right now I hate you! I wish you never came into Roger's life! Why? It's because of you that my best friend is dying!" Mark exclaimed.