The Dream II
Author's Note: Okay. This is the LAST CHAPTER!!! Hah!! No more "One More Day." I'm so happy. This is fantastic. This is wonderful. This is not why I wrote this author's note. And now, I forgot what I was going to say. Great.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mark stared at the loft. It was empty. There was no one there but him and the furniture.
But he could hear people talking.
Roger's voice sounded from the kitchenette, accompanied by Mimi's. Vaguely, he could hear Maureen and Joanne fighting in the other room.
Then Mark heard Benny's slight laugh.
And then, Angel's small giggle from behind him.
"Angel!" Mark stammered as he spun around, surprised. There in back of him stood Angel, clad in a white angel robe complete with golden wings and a halo fashionably tilted to one side. His ambers eyes glimmered with a familiar light.
"Mark Cohen! Don't I get a hello?"
"H-h-hi."
"H-h-hi yourself."
"But you're-"
"Dead?"
"Yeah." Mark nodded, giving Angel a "look." Angel tilted his head to one side, and smiled.
"You get over it."
"Oh..."
Just then, the filmmaker turned his head towards the back of the room to see Collins burst through the door. "I'm he-Angel!"
A flush of movement as Collins gathered Angel up into his arms, and fervently kissed at his face. Finally, the angelic transvestite disentangled himself from the embrace and drew back.
"Collins, I can't stay for very long."
"Why?"
"Because. But-" Angel paused, and looked from Collins to Mark, "You're coming with me."
Mark's face paled, and he suddenly found himself wretching Collins' hands from Angel's waist, pulling the ex-teacher away. "You can't do that!"
"Mark-you don't understand."
"I don't understand! You want to take Collins away!"
In an instant, Angel's face had fallen to a apologetic sort of look. "Yes, I do want to take Collins."
"But, Collins is ours! You can't just take him back up with you! What about us? You're being selfish, we need him!"
Angel's voice got very quiet as he walked over and rested his cheek against Collins' chest. "I need him too."
"Not as much as us."
"Mark, you've had him for so long. You've gotta know when to let go."
"You're being selfish."
"I get lonely!"
"But, if Collins goes," Mark's voice broke, "then who will I have?"
"Mark! You'll still have the rest of them! There's someone out there for you. But you've been so tied to the past that you haven't been able to tear yourself away from the bonds."
"You can't-"
"Please Mark-" This was Collins' voice, as he held his hands on Mark's shoulders and stared into his eyes. The philosopher's brown eyes held a dancing light, watered down by accumulating tears. "Mark, I want this more than anything."
"I don't want to let another one go..."
"You'll still have Roger, and Mimi, and the others."
"It's not the same! They all have each other! I-"
Collins meant the world to him now. Roger had torn himself away from Mark, focusing everything on Mimi. Maureen, she was-nothing now. Collins was his brother, his friend, his adviser. If there was anything in the world that Mark couldn't give up, it was Collins.
And yet, looking into the lighted eyes that quivered with pleas, Mark realized that trying to pin Collins to him wasn't helping. Collins would never really be happy until he was back with Angel. This gave him that chance.
Collins loved Angel. He needed Angel.
Angel needed him.
"I suppose," Mark murmured, "that heaven can get a little lonely sometimes."
Collins smiled, and hugged Mark, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Whoa there tiger, I'm not like that, okay?"
The larger man laughed, a reassuring sound, and playfully cuffed M. Cohen's cheek. "Goodbye Mark."
"Goodbye...Collins, Angel."
Angel stretched out his arms, and Collins took them graciously, embracing the transvestite and meshing his mouth against his in a hungry kiss of three years of buried emotion.
A blinding light filled the air, before everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Mark woke up, he knew.
With a heavy heart, he picked up the phone and listened to a captured message, taped
not a minute before.
"Speak."
"Mark? It's Collins. You're probably asleep, but-oh lordy, I think there was a little more to the accident than the doctors thought of. I feel sick, the room's spinning around me and-is it just me or did a streetlamp just go out? Mark-I've never wanted Angel here more in my life-I feel terrible. I swear, if you're up, pick up the phone. I get the sick feeling that-"
The machine cut off, and Mark hung his head.
Collins was gone. Gone, back to Angel. Back to where he would be happy.
Staring up at the night sky, sprinkled with stars, Mark noticed a blazing trail of light-a shooting star. Without realizing it, he remembered a small story his mother had used to recite to him.
"Every time a star falls, a person's soul is rising to heaven."
"Yes," Mark murmured, "But Angel'll greet him with open arms I'm sure."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END!!
The secret to ending an interminable fanfic? Kill of the main characters. HAH!!!
Author's Note: Okay. This is the LAST CHAPTER!!! Hah!! No more "One More Day." I'm so happy. This is fantastic. This is wonderful. This is not why I wrote this author's note. And now, I forgot what I was going to say. Great.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mark stared at the loft. It was empty. There was no one there but him and the furniture.
But he could hear people talking.
Roger's voice sounded from the kitchenette, accompanied by Mimi's. Vaguely, he could hear Maureen and Joanne fighting in the other room.
Then Mark heard Benny's slight laugh.
And then, Angel's small giggle from behind him.
"Angel!" Mark stammered as he spun around, surprised. There in back of him stood Angel, clad in a white angel robe complete with golden wings and a halo fashionably tilted to one side. His ambers eyes glimmered with a familiar light.
"Mark Cohen! Don't I get a hello?"
"H-h-hi."
"H-h-hi yourself."
"But you're-"
"Dead?"
"Yeah." Mark nodded, giving Angel a "look." Angel tilted his head to one side, and smiled.
"You get over it."
"Oh..."
Just then, the filmmaker turned his head towards the back of the room to see Collins burst through the door. "I'm he-Angel!"
A flush of movement as Collins gathered Angel up into his arms, and fervently kissed at his face. Finally, the angelic transvestite disentangled himself from the embrace and drew back.
"Collins, I can't stay for very long."
"Why?"
"Because. But-" Angel paused, and looked from Collins to Mark, "You're coming with me."
Mark's face paled, and he suddenly found himself wretching Collins' hands from Angel's waist, pulling the ex-teacher away. "You can't do that!"
"Mark-you don't understand."
"I don't understand! You want to take Collins away!"
In an instant, Angel's face had fallen to a apologetic sort of look. "Yes, I do want to take Collins."
"But, Collins is ours! You can't just take him back up with you! What about us? You're being selfish, we need him!"
Angel's voice got very quiet as he walked over and rested his cheek against Collins' chest. "I need him too."
"Not as much as us."
"Mark, you've had him for so long. You've gotta know when to let go."
"You're being selfish."
"I get lonely!"
"But, if Collins goes," Mark's voice broke, "then who will I have?"
"Mark! You'll still have the rest of them! There's someone out there for you. But you've been so tied to the past that you haven't been able to tear yourself away from the bonds."
"You can't-"
"Please Mark-" This was Collins' voice, as he held his hands on Mark's shoulders and stared into his eyes. The philosopher's brown eyes held a dancing light, watered down by accumulating tears. "Mark, I want this more than anything."
"I don't want to let another one go..."
"You'll still have Roger, and Mimi, and the others."
"It's not the same! They all have each other! I-"
Collins meant the world to him now. Roger had torn himself away from Mark, focusing everything on Mimi. Maureen, she was-nothing now. Collins was his brother, his friend, his adviser. If there was anything in the world that Mark couldn't give up, it was Collins.
And yet, looking into the lighted eyes that quivered with pleas, Mark realized that trying to pin Collins to him wasn't helping. Collins would never really be happy until he was back with Angel. This gave him that chance.
Collins loved Angel. He needed Angel.
Angel needed him.
"I suppose," Mark murmured, "that heaven can get a little lonely sometimes."
Collins smiled, and hugged Mark, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Whoa there tiger, I'm not like that, okay?"
The larger man laughed, a reassuring sound, and playfully cuffed M. Cohen's cheek. "Goodbye Mark."
"Goodbye...Collins, Angel."
Angel stretched out his arms, and Collins took them graciously, embracing the transvestite and meshing his mouth against his in a hungry kiss of three years of buried emotion.
A blinding light filled the air, before everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Mark woke up, he knew.
With a heavy heart, he picked up the phone and listened to a captured message, taped
not a minute before.
"Speak."
"Mark? It's Collins. You're probably asleep, but-oh lordy, I think there was a little more to the accident than the doctors thought of. I feel sick, the room's spinning around me and-is it just me or did a streetlamp just go out? Mark-I've never wanted Angel here more in my life-I feel terrible. I swear, if you're up, pick up the phone. I get the sick feeling that-"
The machine cut off, and Mark hung his head.
Collins was gone. Gone, back to Angel. Back to where he would be happy.
Staring up at the night sky, sprinkled with stars, Mark noticed a blazing trail of light-a shooting star. Without realizing it, he remembered a small story his mother had used to recite to him.
"Every time a star falls, a person's soul is rising to heaven."
"Yes," Mark murmured, "But Angel'll greet him with open arms I'm sure."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END!!
The secret to ending an interminable fanfic? Kill of the main characters. HAH!!!