How We Got Here- Part Five

Disclaimer: Everyone except Cassy and James belongs to Jonathan Larson. Definitely not me.

Author's Note: Again with the slightly filler-ness, but I needed to get this part out there and there needed to be a break after that last scene, so I apologize for the shortness.

Sometimes I hate myself, honestly. And it's not little things that make me feel that way and I don't only feel it partway- I do stupid, horrible, insensitive things and I hate myself with everything I have. I have a right to though- honestly, I don't hate myself for stupid reasons… There was a lot of self-hatred going on that fall though, and I still totally understand why. What else could I have felt about myself? I was so absorbed with myself and my show and my little love life with James… I didn't spend near enough time with Roger, or Mark, or… or… Angel.

Granted, Mark wouldn't see me- even after James and I broke up. I was starting to get a little smarter though, and I eventually figured out that it was because James still lived with me. He did! It wasn't a big deal though… I mean, our whole relationship was probably just us wanting to stay in the past and so… I don't know, we just enjoyed each other's company so much but… there was no spark. I tend to get myself stuck in relationships. But we broke up and stayed in the same apartment and Mark still wouldn't come see me. He hated James- still does. Angel didn't hate James, Angel didn't hate anyone. He was my best friend for awhile… I could have seen him more, I really could have. I just didn't. And I don't think I'm ever, ever going to forgive myself for that.

~*~*~*~

"It's not fair!" I sobbed into James' chest, weakly trying to pound my fist against it. He easily stopped my hand though, gently squeezing it before setting it back down by my side and just holding me tightly. "I told him I'd come visit him… I promised him I would, and I was late! I promised and I broke my promise. And it was your fault!"

"Shhh… shhh… sweetie, it wasn't anyone's fault." I could feel him running his fingers through my hair, trying to comfort me, I guess. He didn't get it… how could he? Sometimes I thought the boy lived in a plastic bubble- nothing bad ever seemed to happen to him or even be able to touch him.

"It was! Damnit, you said you'd take me to see him! We just had to stop to pick up that bassoon of yours, didn't we!?!" I was completely aware of the fact that I couldn't- and shouldn't- blame him for any of this but there wasn't anything else to blame! "I didn't get to see him, and I told him I would! What if he wanted to see me before… before…"

"Before he died?" James asked gently, trying as hard as he could not to do anything to cause me to freak out. "Sweetie… he had Collins… you know he would have been happy. He loved Collins more then anything, and you know that them being together would have been enough-" James broke off abruptly, beginning to panic as he saw the expression on my face. "That doesn't mean he didn't love you too… he did, come on, he did. But he just saw you right before he… and you know he didn't think you deserted him… he wouldn't ever think that at all."

"I knooow… but Jaaaaames… why?" James gently shook his head and motioned back to his shoulder, letting me bury my face back into it. He really could be so sweet when he wanted to be… which was most of the time. He was the perfect boyfriend- sometimes I wish I we hadn't lost our "spark".

"Baby… I know this sounds contrived… but it was Angel's time. Come on… sweetie, Angel wouldn't want to you be sad for him." I know now that he's probably right, but all I could think then was that everything he was saying was complete bullshit. What, did Angel want us to be happy when he died? Granted, he did specify that he didn't want a traditional, "weepy" memorial, but still… "Come on… baby… please stop crying. You're going to be late for Angel's memorial…"

I finally allowed myself to pull away from his shoulder and dabbed at my eyes with the tissue he handed me. Luckily I wasn't wearing any eye make-up… I had managed to think that far ahead. "I can't believe it's Halloween," I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut before a fresh wave of tears could start.

"Shhhh… I know, baby, I know." James gently ran his hands through my hair again then leaned over and softly kissed my forehead. He stood up and straightened out his black shirt then held a hand out to me. "Come on… we need to go now… you wouldn't ever want to be late."

~*~*~*~

I couldn't stay for the entire memorial. I absolutely couldn't. Originally I was supposed to sing at Angel's… at the memorial, but I couldn't do it and I knew I wouldn't be able. Instead Collins, James and myself locked ourselves into my apartment and put together a song for Collins to sing… it was gorgeous. Collins doesn't have the most operatic voice, exactly, but you could just hear the love in his voice and it was so… so… beautiful and… I couldn't stay in the church after that. I was supposed to speak, but I couldn't- I would absolutely have a breakdown and I wouldn't be able to stand that, being so messed up in front of people. So I quietly excused myself, hugged Collins lightly and told him to call me, then got out of there as quickly as I could without running.

I went to the theatre. I, of course, had signed off the show that night for "personal reasons", but I went there anyway and curled into myself in the greenroom. A theatre has always been the safest place in the world to me… I talked about James living in a bubble before- the theatre was my plastic bubble. Absolutely nothing could touch me there and… I can't go into that. It's just special to me.

But I knew I couldn't stay there forever. I had to go home- you can't just escape. Or apparently you could, if you ask a certain blonde man who I was just ready to kill.

~*~*~*~

"Mark?" I tentatively pushed open the door to the loft and stared in surprise. Where was everyone? "Mark… sweetie pie… where's everyone else?"

"Benny and Collins are getting drunk… Maureen and Joanne are probably screwing… Roger went to Santa Fe… and Mimi's gone…" Mark's voice dropped to a mumble on the last few words and I quickly ran over to the couch. Was he crying? He was crying…

"Mark… honey… what's wrong?" I bit down on my lip, watching him cry. God, what could I do? I didn't even really know what was wrong… just that Roger was gone and… damnit, how the hell could he do that? Leave Mimi and Mark and… me… alone. We need him. I reached over and took Mark into my arms, as his instinctively tightened around me. I reached up and gently stroked his hair.

"I sold out…"

I felt the insane urge to giggle, having this incredible flashback to a few years ago and the same conversation, only opposite. "Alexi…" I whispered, watching him nod. Okay, so maybe he did actually sell out. But still… he was and will always be my Marky. "Baby… you didn't sell out… not to me…"

"Everyone else is going to think I sold out," he mumbled and I, once again struck by the similarities, just hugged him tighter. "Especially Roger…"

"But I won't. And come on, isn't what I think more important then what any of them think?" I asked, surprised by how conceited that sounded and then even more surprised when he nodded. I hadn't realized I was that… important… to him. "Marky…" I sighed softly, not knowing what else to say, so just held him tightly instead.

"Cassy… do you think I hide?"

"Hide from what?"

"Just… everything… Roger, before he left, he… he said some stuff and just… I don't know, it's been making me think and…"

"Babe, of course I don't think you hide… I know everything about you."

"No you don't."

"What did Roger say to you?"

"He said… you know, that I hide behind my work and…I do, you know. There's nothing else I can do… because… if I get too close, I can't… I mean… I can't watch anyone else get sick, it's just too… I need to hide in my work, I know I need to- to survive."

"Shhh… Marky, you're going to survive no matter… honestly, honey, you're the one of us who actually has enough talent and drive to… nobody else is going…" I cut off, not wanting to say anything else, knowing the subtext of "surviving". It's not just succeeding in the profession you love- not with our friends.

"What about you?"

"Me? Hell, Mark, I'm an actress. In 20 years I'm going to be sitting around in community theatres, bitching about how I "used to" be famous." I sighed and dropped my head onto his shoulder. "No, you're going to survive- your films are so brilliant and… it's more then that… you're more willing to."

"Cassy, no," Mark said sternly, completely shocking me once again. He wasn't supposed to be that, well, strong. "You're just as willing as me to survive, god, probably more. I mean, you want it so bad and you're always trying so hard… and that's what I love about you. Don't ever try to tell me that you won't survive… remember what we promised each other?"

"To make each other famous…" I smiled shyly at Mark, I can't believe he actually remembered that. "We were so stupid then… I mean…"

"Cassy, quiet. I-"

"Honestly… well, maybe not stupid, but so idealistic and… I don't know-"

"Cassy, quiet! I need to tell-"

"Naïve, I guess… or innocent, we were just-"

"Cassy, shut up. I lo-"

"So convinced that we would be famous, and I don't know if that would happen now-"

"I said, shut up!" Before I knew what was happening, Mark's lips were pressed firmly against mine and I was shut up. Now, I didn't know what was going on at all, but I was shut up.

I finally pulled away and sat there, staring into Mark's wide eyes. He looked just as shocked as I felt- which was stupid as this whole thing was started by him. I never, ever, ever expected Mark to do anything like that… I should have though, he dropped enough hints. "Marky? I… ummm… what was that?"

"A kiss."

"I know. Why?"

"Because… I… ummm… Iloveyou." Again, Mark's voice had dropped to a mumble and I had absolutely no idea what he said. Yes, I am an idiot. I just sat there, blinking at him, and I could tell he was disappointed until he realized that I didn't understand. "Cassy… I… Love… You."

Damnit, Mark loved me? I know; I should have figured it out before, but I told you, I just get so involved in myself. "Marky, I uh…" I stared at him, and suddenly my mind started filling with images of him and me- him feeding me cardboard hospital food because I couldn't hold the fork and Benny wasn't there; him beating random video games for me and not mocking me… too much; me making a complete fool of myself singing in front of his camera; him visiting me after every show; and me crying the one time I thought he didn't show up. Shit, how did I not notice that before? "I… I think I love you too." I smiled sweetly up at him and decided that maybe things would be okay after all, even though it wouldn't be for a long time.

~*~*~*~

Surprise, surprise, guess who got together after that? It was a little awkward, as I was still living in my apartment with James and, well, I don't think Mark ever go over the fact that he stole me. Apparently Mark had planned on saying something that weekend but that turned out so well… eventually I ended up spending more time in the loft then I did in my apartment, it was just reflex. I have always always enjoyed spending time with Mark, and he needed the company without Roger there…

I could kill Roger, still feel that way. Such a brat, just leaving like that… we needed him so frigging badly. Somehow Mark managed to convince me to forgive Roger, but not until after he came back. We tried to look for Mimi, but there's just so many places to go in New York City and… I don't know how we managed to survive for that month. Honestly, I still don't. And I don't think I ever will.