AN- Thanks for the great reviews! And...here's your update :) ENJOY!
I told Joanne what was happening, and she informed me that though she "wanted" to come with me to find out what was going on with Mark, she "thought it would be better" if she stayed with Marcie. I then had pointed out that somebody at the hospital would be able to look after her. Grumbling and still in a state of half-sleep gathered Marcie's things as I continued to panic, pacing frantically. We were both irritable and at each other's throats without even intending to be, and the entire cab ride was filled with pointless arguing that need not have occurred. When I worry, I say things that I don't mean, unable to focus, about to snap whenever anyone addresses me. My hands shook, my entire body in a state of distress, fighting me all the way, too preoccupied to keep up light conversation; Joanne was too tired and preoccupied with the baby to notice or probably even comprehend fully the situation, trying to perpetuate airy chatter to keep from falling asleep. How can we love each other so much and be so incredibly different? Oh yeah, because I don't like who I am, and she doesn't like who she is…but we like each other. Weird, I guess…what the hell am I thinking about this for?
"Honeybear, we're here." She was waving a hand in front of my face, which brought my eyes and brain back into focus.
"Oh. Okay."
"You okay in there?" I sighed and shook my head, pushing myself out of the cab. I walked beside her, and she put her free arm over my shoulder (Marcie being in the other), and pulled me close to her, rubbing my back reassuringly every now and again as we walked into the building. I spotted Roger immediately, and free myself from Joanne, running up to him frantically.
"Roger what's going on?" He was crying, and pulled me closer to him in a desperate hug. "It's bad, isn't it?" He nodded, his face still buried in my chest. I pulled back a little, looking him objectively in the eyes. "What happened?"
"He…" Roger couldn't seem to find the words to express the painful events that had occurred, and simply held out a needle, rubber band, and razor blade.
"Is depressive when he's high? What?" I asked sarcastically, harshly, immediately regretting what I had said. "I'm sorry Rog…I didn't mean it." He nodded, understanding yet incapable of speech, too traumatized probably to fully absorb what I had said.
"I…we…Mimi and I…we were…using again…and he…came…he came back…" He collapsed in fresh wave of sorrow, and I held him tightly until it subsided.
"Why'd you do it?"
"I…she…wouldn't stop…and…I just…oh God…I don't know…"
"Shh…it's okay." Mark did this because…what? Put the pieces of the puzzle together…he…when he left, Roger and Mimi started using again…he sacrificed a lot to make Roger stop…like me…and his life…he felt useless again…oh! That's it! He is afraid of being useless and unwanted! Watching things go to hell with no control! Watching his dreams and nightmares played out before him—his daughter raised by the woman he loves and her girlfriend, his greatest fear for Roger and Mimi killing themselves with smack. I continued to hold Roger, trying to console him…he had no way of knowing, but at the same time…he has known Mark for a while…but this revelation—nobody else was there when I went to find him in Scarsdale…that conversation…I shouldn't have let him go back alone. He needed me. He needed me and I was too blind to see, to rapped up in my new little family…holy fuck, I completely overlooked, took him for granted. After telling his father that would never happen, after telling Mark that I needed him. "Rog, can we see him?" He cleared his throat, seeming to have found his voice again.
"Uh…yeah. They had to give him a lot of blood and stuff…but they finished that a while ago. Uh…you're his wife and…I'm his brother…I haven't quite worked out Joanne and Mimi yet." I nodded slowly, and he gripped my hand tightly, slowly leading me to Mark's room, pausing outside the door. "Mo…I know this is going to be really hard for you…you know, since you…well, anyway…"
"Rog…I'll be okay…we've all been through a lot. Especially dealing with…this. I'll be okay…just…come with me. We can support each other. And him." He wrapped an arm around my waist, and I willingly moved closer to him as we hesitantly pushed the door open…