A/N Still not my characters. Still plugging away.

I practically fall off the couch when I hear someone in the kitchen. I sit up and slit my eyes open enough to see that it is my mother. I quickly shut them and roll over so that I facing the side of the couch.

"Honey, you awake?"

"No."

She comes over and I hear her drop a bunch of things, sounds like changes and other miscellaneous stuff on the table next to the couch. "This is just some stuff I got out of Roger's pants."

Roger's pants? What? Why is my mother going through Roger's pants? My eyes open and I roll over, "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I was doing laundry, and I thought Roger would like to have clean clothes." She starts walking away and I sit up.

"Ma, you haven't even met the guy, you can't seriously be doing his laundry."

"I feel like I know him, and I'll meet him soon enough." I sit up completely and lean my elbows on my knees and rub my eyes. "Besides, I could smell the smoke on the clothes, and they were on my carpet."

"Oh my God, are you kidding me?" She sits down next to me, with her coffee mug in her hand.

"Mark, you are making a big deal out of nothing."

"Ok Mom, now what happens when he wakes up and has no clothes to put on?"
"He has a whole duffle bag in there." I nod, forgetting about that. She pats the top of my head, "No worries, I'm sure he will appreciate it." She stands, "Now come to the breakfast room and have some bagels and coffee." I nod and try and wake up.

I stumble into the breakfast room and my mother has laid out an assortment of bagels and cream cheese. "Mom, there are only three of us in the house, we don't need a dozen bagels."

"Oh hush, we'll have them tomorrow too."

"Great." I sit down and start to spread the cream cheese on the bagel.

"So what happened with Roger?"

"Huh?" I look up at her shocked, does she know? Can she tell? It was just one kiss followed by some real awkward moments and Roger declaring that he was exhausted and going straight to bed. "Nothing happened with Roger." I spit out fast, hoping she won't catch on to anything.

"Then why is he here? He couldn't have missed you after only two days."
I chew on the bagel, definitely not as good as the city. "No, he and Mimi broke up and he wanted to get away."

"Why didn't he just go back to your old place?"

"Oh, uh… I don't know. I think he wanted to get out of the city."

"Mark, what is it that you aren't telling me?" She drinks her coffee and shoots me a look. "I feel like you have kept nothing but secrets since you came home, since you left even. How are things really in the city? What is going on there? Honey, I worry about you."

"I know Ma, I'm sorry. Everything is ok, you don't have to worry."

"Sweetie, you are my son." She takes a deep breath and reaches over and grabs my hand, "No matter how old you get, or where you are, I'm always going to worry." I nod, smiling. "So tell me, what is going on in your life?"

I shake my hand, how could I even begin to catch her up? I'm trying to catch up myself. "I've been filming a lot, working on my documentary. I don't know if anyone will ever want to show it, but I'm proud of what I have."

"Can I see it?" I look up at her; it never occurred to me that my mom would want to see my film. There are too many personal things in there, things that she will never understand. Shots that will do nothing but upset her. How can I let my mom see my life like that? A life she tried so hard to protect me from. She sheltered me from death and poverty, and I took it upon myself to surround myself with it.

I never even told my mom about Angel.

"Well, it isn't finished yet." I say quietly. I pull my hand away and rub the back of my neck looking away. "Maybe when it is done."

I hear footsteps approach us, and I look up and Roger walks in. He has a pair of black jeans and a ripped t-shirt on. His hair is sticking all over the place, and I can't help but think how good he looks. Am I allowed to think that? "Good morning." He goes over to my mother with his hand outstretched, "Mrs. Cohen, I'm Roger, nice to meet you finally." I have to fight off the laughter of seeing Roger so polite.

My mother takes his hand and pulls him in for a hug. "Roger, honey, it is about time." She pulls away and looks at him, "How are you feeling? I was beginning to worry you were going to sleep the day away.

He and I exchange quick looks and I scoff, "That is what she does best, worry." She pushes him down into a chair and tells him to take a bagel. He looks at me and I nod to tell him it is ok.

"Roger, are you going to be staying with us long?"

"Uh, I don't know, I haven't really thought about it."

"Well, you are both welcome here as long as you want. It is nice to have the company." Ah the guilt, there we go. "I haven't seen Mark in forever you know, and Cindy only comes by when she wants a babysitter. Now don't get me wrong, I love my grandchildren, but it is nice to have a grown-up conversation sometimes, don't you think?" Roger nods slightly, unsure of what to think. "Do you need anything special, honey? Special foods or anything?"

"Ma, just leave him alone, ok?"

"I was just asking," She looks at me and whispers, as if he wasn't sitting next to her, "I have never had someone with his… condition… stay at the house."

"Mom, I told you not…"

"Mark, it is fine." He turns to my mother, "No Mrs. Cohen I don't need anything special. Just treat me like you would your son, ok?"

"Trust me, you don't want that."

She gets up, "I have to go switch over the laundry. What do you two plan on doing today?"

"I don't know." I look at Roger and he shrugs.

She leaves the room and I apologize to him for her. He laughs and tells me he is used to it.

"What do you mean?"
"Let's just say, I now understand where you get it from now."

"Get what from?" My voice rises as I try and protest.

"Your consistent need to help and take care of everyone around you."

"Don't even compare me to her."

He reaches out and touches my arm, I ignore the shivers that come with his touch, "Mark, you are just like her, and that is what I love about you."

He said it again.

He drops his hand and mutters something about taking a shower. We walk out of the room and I collapse on the couch and he heads to the bathroom. I lay there for a few minutes and a sharp beeping noise interrupts my thoughts. Roger's beeper is lying on the table, dropped off earlier by my mother. It sort of shimmies on the surface as it vibrates and beeps. I find this strange; since I thought the only people with Roger's beeper number were Mimi and me. I pick it up and I don't recognize the number. I stop it from beeping by pressing random buttons. I put it back down and a few minutes later, just as I'm about to fall asleep again, the beeper starts up. I pick it up, and a different number appears. Again, I don't recognize it.

My mom comes up from the basement with two laundry baskets and drops them in front of me. "Fold." I shake my head and mutter that I am a guest, and she just repeats her fold command.

I sit up and do as I'm told. Roger comes out of the bathroom in a few minutes, dressed and looking good. I smile at him and he disappears into the guestroom. He comes out quickly looking panicked. "Mark, where is my beeper?"

I hold it up, "Right here, it has been going off like crazy."

He comes over and snatches it out of my hand, giving me a nasty look. He looks down at it and starts pressing numbers. "There is only one number here."

"What?"

"There is only one number, I had at least 10 in storage, what the fuck did you do?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know." I stand up and go over to him to try and see the beeper. "I was pressing buttons to try and turn it off."

"You erased all the fucking numbers." I hear my mother clang some dishes in the sink, Roger does to, and he only glances up slightly.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

He whispers loudly to me, "Just keep your hands off my stuff ok?"

"Yeah, fine." I sit down on the couch and he grabs the rest of his things on the table and disappears into the bedroom.

"Mark, everything ok?" My mother, typical, pretending she just didn't witness that.

"Yeah, everything is fine."

Roger comes out of the room with all his bags packed, "Mrs. Cohen, can I use your phone?"

"Of course," she hands him the phone. "Do you need anything?

"I'm just calling a cab."

"Roger, don't." I grab the phone from him, "If you really want to leave, I'll drive you back to the city."
"Fine whatever." He walks over to the front door and thanks my mother and walks out.

"Did I mention he has a temper?" My mom rubs my arm gently as I walk out after him. He is sitting on the steps smoking a cigarette.

I sit down next to him. "Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

"Your stupidity perhaps?"

"Roger, I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't even have touched it." He takes a long drag and leans on his knees, squinting from the sun as he looks at me. "It is none of you business who pages me."

"Yeah, I know, I was just trying to get it to stop beeping." He nods. "You don't have to leave."

"Yeah, I do. I have things to take care of in the city."

"Like what?"

"Like things. Nothing big." He finishes his cigarette and stands up. I stand to, and grab his duffel bag, and I am surprised how flimsy it is. I expected it to be packed with clothes.

"What's in here?" He grabs the bag from me and mutters nothing. I try and grab it back from him, but he has a tight grip. "Roger, what aren't you telling me?"

"Mark, I'm warning you, just drop this ok?"

"No, I won't. Remember what you said to me last night? That I was the one person you could trust?"
"Yeah, so."
"So, what is in the bag?"
"Just take me to the bus station, Mark, ok?"

"No, tell me what the fuck is in the bag."

"Look, no matter what is going on between us, I'm still permitted to have some things to myself. This is one of them."

"No, there is something going on, and I want you to tell me."

Suddenly his beeper goes off again. He looks down at it quickly and rolls his eyes. "Look, I really need to get back to the city."

"Who is that?"

"Nobody, I just got things to do."

"Roger, please." I am begging him.

"Just drop it." He relaxes his grip a little on the bag and I reach over and grab it from him, and quickly unzip it. He tackles me to the ground, causing the some of the contents to fall out. He is on top of me, holding me down. Various amounts of unfamiliar pills and powders surround us. I look at him, and he gets off of me as he begins to shove things back into the bag. I sit up, shocked and speechless.

"There's an explanation." I can't look at him.

"Whatever." I stand up, "I'll take you to the bus station. I walk into the garage and get into the car and start it, and wait for him to join me.

He comes up to my window and knocks. I unroll it a little bit, "Look, let me explain."

"Just get in the fucking car. You don't want to keep anyone waiting." My voice is tired and strained. He walks around to the other side and gets in, throwing his things in the back.

"I'm sorry."
"Yup, I know." We drive the rest of the way in silence.