Author's Notes: "Le pardon est un virture, Dirat On" is French for "Forgiveness is a virtue, So they say".

THIS IS IT. "Dirait On", my lovely adventurous project is done! Hope all of you have enjoyed it and I can't tell you how thankful I am for all of you that have read it and kept your hearts open for this unusual pair. Thank you also to my special reader-friend who made me some lovely icons, you are wonderful.

I OWN NOTHING.

Please read, review and enjoy!

Roger's legs began to pain him as he walked past every entrance of a subway. Where could he go? Somewhere. Where?

A train.

That's what he wanted, to get the fuck out of New York. Yes, it was the only way.

His suitcase in his haste sometimes jumbled onto his bruises, causing the rocker to grunt as he quickened his pace. "Fuck."

Have to get the fuck out of New York. Now. There was no thinking about it. He had to get Angel out of his mind, all of the shit he'd done his entire life out of his mind. He'd start anew. New everything. He wouldn't have to deal with anyone or anything. He would be his own person, and not have to concern himself…with anyone. Mark could deal, he

Something inside of Collins told him to go to Joanne's apartment. That was the only place other than Mimi's that he could think of. Angel loved being with Maureen and Joanne. The professor checked his pockets for some cash as he motioned for a cab to stop. The cabbie hesitated as he let the distraught professor inside the cab, but looked straight ahead as Collins told him where he was going.

"You know what hun, I really don't want to talk about it." Angel said sitting herself down on the couch placing her face in her hands. "I just need to lie down."

"Feel free okay." Joanne said as she grabbed a pillow and a blanket handing it to her friend. "I'm going to get to bed."

Angel settled herself, not bothering to take her jacket off as she wrapped herself in the blanket trying to forget but never being able to. "Thank you again Joanne."

"Goodnight Angel."

As soon as Joanne closed the door to her bedroom, she collapsed onto the floor holding onto a sweater that she purchased for Maureen which smelled of someone else.

After Collins paid the cabbie, the professor ran up to Joanne and Maureen's apartment pressing the button to their apartment. Had he really forgave her? Was he just ignoring the problem to keep her? When had he decided that Angel was worth all of the trouble they often found themselves in? She had told him when they began to get serious…

"People tend to give me trouble Tom. Either that, or I attract it."

Collins stopped when she stopped, letting go of her hand. "What do you mean?"

"I can't seem to be left alone, trouble always find me. I knew as a kid that I was going to die young because of it, and I am."

Angel couldn't believe how quickly she had drifted into sleep. She rose from her spot on the couch, walking over to the intercom thinking it was Maureen. "Mo is that you?"

Collins sighed out loud, glad that she was alright. "Ang, it's me."

Angel backed away from the intercom, not ready to face him. "Collins, I can't do this right now. I just can't…face you."

"Angel, I don't want to have this conversation with you over this intercom please let me come up."

The earnest voice poured into Angel's ear, melting into her heart. She loved that man; there wasn't a doubt about it. There was no way she could deny him anything after all that she'd done to him.

Collins quickly opened the door, flying up the stairs as fast as he could to the apartment which was open, waiting for him.

There she sat her expression a mix of dread and embarrassment.

"Hi babe."

She looked up at him. He wasn't angry; he didn't even have the same expression he did earlier. All she saw was love. "Tom…please don't act like this isn't hurting you."

"I'm not and it does. But God Angel…I love you so much more." The professor walked over to her pulling her to her feet. "Kiss me."

Angel couldn't believe him. He forgave her. "Tom, you still love even after I did…what I did…I can't believe that."

Collins warmly smiled at her, taking her face into his worn hands. "I love you Angel. I forgive you."

At this, Angel bursted into tears muffling her sobs with her hand as Collins held onto her tightly as her knees buckled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. The two stood in the middle of the living room, kissing each other fervently as Joanne watched, tears streaming down her cheeks aching for Maureen but most of all Maureen's kiss. Would she and Maureen ever be like them? Somehow, in the back of her mind, she knew they'd never be that way. Not with the way they held grudges and held their own stubbornness close to them.

Roger boarded the last train of the night, looking back at his beloved city passing him. He'd leave, wouldn't come back. After all that had happened, he figured he should leave. It was better for everyone. Laying his head back against the seat, the rocker silently cried for the life that he had lead when he was younger and even now. Never did he ever live up to the good and right thing, it was always the exact opposite with nothing good ever coming from it.

Mark picked himself up, angry for destroying the footage that he threw. He picked up the pieces getting a glimpse of Roger's open bedroom door hating him for leaving, but most of all leaving him alone in this huge loft. Alone. That's all he ever be, with nothing or anyone to show for it.

"You come home now." Collins said as he wiped away tears from Angel's flushed cheeks with his rough thumb. She nodded to him as she grabbed her things, glancing at Joanne who watched the floor dejectedly, like an abandoned child. Collins took her Angel by her hand, leading her toward the subway as she stayed quietly with him. "I never loved him like I do you Tom, but I did love him."

Collins sighed, "I know Angel. He loved you too; I could see it in him." He held her closer to him, not letting her go again. "But we'll be fine Angel, we'll only grow from this. I need you girl."

"I need you Tom, please forgive me."

"Done."