"See ya, Jon," Collins calls as he exits the café. The writer looks up momentarily from his notebook to wave to his departing friends before returning to the pen and paper, enthralled once more as Roger is with his guitar, and Maureen is with any microphone she can get her hands on, and Benny with papery green wads of cash, and –

And Mark is with Roger, of course.

There is no denying that Roger fascinates Mark, demonstrated by Mark's frequent glances up at Roger from his position, nestled in Maureen's arms. "Roger has pretty eyes," he tells himself every few minutes, and though it becomes annoying after twenty minutes of aimless walking, nobody really wants Mark to stop. Or, rather, nobody really wants to tell Mark to stop.

"Oooh, guys, look!" Maureen squeals at one point. "A playground!"

With that, she (holding Mark) dashes to the crosswalk and leaps across in four easy strides the second the WALK sign is illuminated. Chances are, had it not lit up at that very moment, Maureen would have raced across anyway. The running seems to entertain Mark, however, because he giggles and reaches up to touch Maureen's hair as they leap over sidewalk cracks, heading for the swirly slides and monkeybars of Washington Square Park's playground.

They don't quite make it there. A shriek, several swear words and a squeal are emitted from Maureen's mouth before she rams head-on into a man that Maureen, Roger, Collins and Benny are all too familiar with.

He leers at her, and Maureen shies away, not wanting Mark to see the scars up and down the drug dealer's arms and face, nor the packets of powder and needles he hides in a translucent paper bag. Those are questions she wants to forestall as long as possible, and the last thing she needs is for Mark to start asking them now, only to receive no answers.

"Hey," Collins, the first to catch up with Maureen and Mark, snaps. "Watch it."

The Man sneers at him, causing Collins to draw back his fist. "Hey. You mess with Maureen, you mess with – "

"Collins."

Collins, Maureen and Mark turn to face Roger. "Collins, it's enough," Roger says firmly. He then approaches The Man and murmurs something that is inaudible to Mark, particularly because Maureen's hands are covering his ears. As Roger continues to communicate with the other man, it is clear that Collins is furious.

"Why does he have to keep doing that?" he fumes to Maureen and a heavily panting Benny, who has just joined the group. "He knows he can stop – he can stop – doesn't he know that this is what killed April – "

Roger tears himself away from The Man, a fresh bulge in his shirt pocket. "Kay," he says to Mark, in a voice that sounds stronger and fuller than it had been before. "Ready? Let's go on the playground."

With that, Maureen (carrying Mark) races Roger to the monkeybars, and as they laugh and play together, Benny and Collins are left to their slower pace, with no desire to catch up to the three "minors" – at least, not yet.

Collins looks at Benny steadily. "Do you think he should quit?" he asks the other man.

Benny chooses his words carefully. "I think… I think the knowledge that he has it, that he has that one constant if nothing else, makes him happier. Makes him easier to be around. When we try to get him to stop, he gets protective and angry. But do I think that he'd be better off completely drug-free, never even started it? Completely withdrawn, at least?"

Collins nods.

"Well… yes."

"Thank you!"

"But," Benny reminds him, "Even if he did quit now, it would take forever for him to finish the withdrawal process. And while it went on, he'd be awful. Imagine what would happen to Mark."

Collins looks as though it hadn't occurred to him. "What would happen to him?"

"You know," Benny tells him firmly. "Roger, for one thing, would get irritable. Angry, frustrated, desperate. Violent, even. Maybe. Mark can't – can't witness that again. It would ruin everything for him, really."

"But," Collins says evenly, "It could happen the opposite. Mark could ground Roger, could remind him that he has something to work for, and because of Mark's presence, Roger would be better about it. Wouldn't get so violent and mad and scary. He'd remember Mark, and Mark would keep him in line – and we can't do that."

Benny deliberates. "That's a possibility," he admits. "But if it had been April…"

Collins shakes his head. "Roger's not like April. April wouldn't latch herself onto one person like that. But Roger – he always has one person that he's incredibly close to, and he lives for that person, and if anything happens to him or her…" He trails off, drawing to mind images of Roger just after his girlfriend's death: shooting up, cutting, and spending weeks at a time without saying a single word. "So if that was Mark… if Mark was that one person… Roger would make everything about Mark. He'd be the one to make him smile and laugh and would, even at five, control every single thing that Roger would do – without even knowing it. If Roger lived to make Mark happy, then the withdrawal would be easier for all of us."

"Perhaps," Benny agrees, his face stony.

"Perhaps," repeats Collins.

They lapse into silence and spot a bench, which they both sit on to think. At last Benny says something. "There's something else I wanted to talk about, too."

"Which is?" Collins asks.

"I think we should talk to a lawyer. See what we can do about Mark's father, see if we can get legal custody of him and get Cohen sent to jail."

Before Benny even finishes his sentence, Collins is shaking his head. He looks at Benny sternly. "First of all, we probably wouldn't get custody of him. For finding him on the street? No way. He'd go to a relative, if he had one – and that would be a disaster. Grandparents, maybe – most parents that abuse their kids were abused as a child, and that'd only lead to a repeat of what already happened to him. Besides – Roger. Mark loves Roger now. Loves all of us. I don't want to take him away from that."

Benny nods. He doesn't say what's on his mind: how stoned are you, Collins? He knows that on days when Collins is wise and thoughtful like this, it usually means that he's having a good day. Benny doesn't want to ruin it.

Continues the philosopher, "But you're right, Cohen should go to jail. I don't know how to do that without exposing Mark to any change right now, though."

"We should talk to a lawyer," Benny says immediately. "See how we can do this."

"Yeah," Collins agrees. "A lawyer. Mimi should come too, if you think you guys are close enough – "

"We're not," Benny interrupts shortly, and leaves it at that. "She's – just a thing. Baggage, you know. She called me baggage once, actually."

Collins looks closely at Benny. After a long moment of carefully formulating his next sentence, Collins speaks again. "Her beeper went off earlier," he tells him quietly. "Do you think she has – like me and Roger, I mean?"

Benny takes a deep breath. "I… I'm not sure. If she does – then I might. If I do – oh, god."

Collins just claps Benny on the shoulder. "I really hope you don't," he says honestly. "Besides, can you imagine how much Maureen would be gloating about being the only HIV-negative one of us? It'd be a disaster."

Benny laughs weakly. "Want to come with me to get me checked out, say, tomorrow?"

Collins shrugs. "Sure."

The two men join Maureen, Mark, and Roger by the playground. They laugh in the right moments: as Mark pokes Roger's shoulder with a wood splinter playfully; as Maureen is deemed "unfit for children's society" by a troop of nine-year-old Girl Scouts, referring to her short skirt; as Collins runs around searching for a vending machine, needing a beverage with which to swallow his AZT.

An eight-year-old boy calls Mark stupid and ugly. Mark cringes, not knowing how to react, and experiences a hard, painful punch in the eye as a result of not moving to avoid the pun'shmit. Heartbreaking as it is at that particular moment, it is far more amusing when Roger corners the boy and they exchange punches. They both retreat with black eyes, as well as a bleeding cut on the bully's forearm and a throbbing bump on Roger's chin. He doesn't seem to notice, however; he's too busy scooping Mark up into his arms and twirling him around.

It is Maureen's idea to let Mark try everything on the playground, seeing as he's never been to one before. Mark whimpers when Roger and Collins help him across the monkeybars, especially when Mark is kicked in the shin by an eleven-year-old trying to make his way across "the lava". Collins, of course, takes care of him, insisting that Roger is "too worn out from the last kid you thrashed, eh, Rog?" The boy pales and drops the bar immediately, running away – probably home to his mother, according to Roger.

After the monkey bars, Mark is escorted by Benny, Collins, Maureen and Roger to the see-saw. As the lightest, Maureen offers to sit on the other side of Mark, but he shies away, insisting that it's "too scary". Benny, who had grown up with a father that wouldn't take no for an answer in any circumstance, wants to put Mark on the see-saw anyway and show him that there's nothing wrong with it, but Roger stops him. "The kid's afraid of enough already," Roger insists, a hand on Benny's chest to stop him from moving. "Want him to be scared of you? Didn't think so."

Next they try the swings. Mark, who is simply too small and too afraid to be put on a big swing, refuses to sit on any swing but the baby one. As Collins places him in the swing obviously intended for those under two years old, Mark shivers a little. The playground idea terrifies him as much as it fascinates him. When Collins and Benny alternate pushing him, while Roger and Maureen swing on his either side, Mark shifts uncomfortably. His swing crashes into Maureen's twice, but she doesn't mind – she bumps him back playfully, just gently enough to let him know that she's just playing.

After the swings, which Mark enjoys to a shocking extent, the group marches over to the slide. The climb to the top of the jungle gym, where the slide begins, is uneventful, but the moment Roger tries to place Mark at the head of the tunnel slide, the five-year-old shrieks and buries his head in Roger's shirt. "Dark. Scary. Big. High. Don't – don' wanna."

Roger sighs. "It's okay, Mark, you don't have to," he says gently.

Benny tsks irritatedly.

"Benny!" Collins and Roger chorus. Maureen, however, is preoccupied: a six-year-old nearby has dropped his lollipop, and Maureen is busily removing all the dirt from it, mostly with her fingers and tongue. "That's disgusting, Reen," Collins remarks, and pretends to vomit as the child skips away happily, lollipop in hand. "Do you have to act like a sex fiend?"

Maureen shrugs. Skirt as short as it is, she decides then and there that it is appropriate to walk rather than on the path of steps on the jungle gym, on the railings that are typically used for armrests. Of course, this means that her legs are spread obscenely, and passing ten-year-olds are jumping up and down as they pass, trying to – who knows.

When the entire group reaches the bottom of the jungle gym once more, Roger encourages Mark, "Marky, you wanna pick something out for us to do?"

Mark bites his lip and looks around carefully, making the decision as though it is the last one he will ever make. He wants it to be a good one. At last, his finger jabs out at revolving circular platform known more commonly as a merry-go-round – playground-style, of course.

Now sitting atop Roger's shoulders, Mark watches the rest of the playground function while he and his companions make their way over to the merry-go-round. Upon arrival, Roger carefully gets Mark down from his shoulders and turns to the two young girls already occupying the carousel. "Off," he says shortly, and they flee, erupting into giggles once they reach the hopscotch boards. They are most likely discussing Roger's hair.

"Pookie," Maureen says abruptly. She's already straddled her portion of the merry-go-round, legs ducking under the bars on either side. Her feet rest atop the second bar from her on either side, occupied by Collins on the left and Roger on the right. Mark looks up at Maureen, and she offers, "You wanna sit with me, Pookie, love? You can sit up here on the bar, and I'll hold you so you don't fall off. Kay?"

Mark nods, eyes wide, and does so. It is fairly obvious that he feels most comfortable trying "dang'rous" activities with Maureen, probably because she's the most aware when it comes to such things. After all, this is the twenty-three-year-old Lower East Side girl commonly known as the East Village "Protestress". Raised in a wealthy household, it is shocking that the drama queen has adapted so well to so risky a lifestyle, but she has – probably better than any of the others. Mark, it seems, has caught on to this, though probably in simpler terms, and also seems aware of the fact that while Roger is his new "protector", Maureen is the danger-seeker, the one he'd rather have holding him while sliding down the banister. Roger, on the other hand, Mark would like to be held by as he drifts off to sleep.

Benny is the designated pusher, the one who has to stand outside the merry-go-round and, as Roger so eloquently puts it, "make it move". And make it move he does: as the strongest and heaviest of the group, Benny exercises the most control over the carousel, starting it off slow so as not to surprise Mark (though startling the dozing-off Roger would be a plus), and allowing it to go faster and faster as Mark's eyes widen and smile grows. Eventually, it is spinning at so incredible a rate that Maureen, who is prone to seasickness (though she's never been on a boat) and airsickness (though she hasn't been on a plane in six years), leans over and vomits all over a three-year-old boy trying to build a sandcastle. He responds by whacking Maureen in the head with his shovel, and Maureen giggles.

"When I was your age," she yells as she passes him, "I was way better at whacking people."

The little boy whacks her twice this time, and she ducks the second time. The shovel hits Mark, of course, who cringes but doesn't seem particularly distressed. After all, it's only plastic, and he's been hit by real shovels before (though not with a particular amount of force).

Eventually, the carousel ride comes to a stop. Roger is the first off, and before Maureen can even let Mark dismount the merry-go-round, he slides under her legs and runs over to Roger, hugging him. "So fun," he breathes into the man's shoulder. "C'n we do't again? I wanna – wanna – wanna do't again. T'morrow? Please?" He looks up at Roger hopefully. "So super duper fun."

Roger smiles warmly at Mark and bounces the boy up into his arms. "We can do this every day if it makes you happy," he promises the child, and kisses him on the forehead. "Now. Do you wanna go home or have ice cream."

"Ice cream?" repeats Mark, unfamiliar with the term.

Collins chortles a bit. "Come on, Marky-poo," he says, throwing an arm around Roger's shoulder to get closer to the little boy. "Let's go get you home. Ice cream, another day."