Roger POV:
It's been three days since Mark found out he's positive. He hasn't spoken a word to anyone since. He won't even look at me, let alone be in the same room as me and I don't blame him one bit. I wouldn't be in the same room with me either if I had the choice.
Of course, I'd considered suicide, even came as close as holding a knife to my wrist, but of course, I couldn't go through with it. Don't get me wrong, I'm thoroughly sure I deserve to be dead and would love to be...but that would be taking the easy way out.
I remember how April killed herself right before I was diagnosed and left me to deal with that and a drug addiction on my own. I can't...won't do that to Mark. I'm not going to take the easy way out, leaving him to clean up my mess once again.
I don't deserve to die, no, I deserve to live...to suffer and watch what I did to my poor Mark...my best friend, the only person who'd ever understood me, the only person who even tried. And I'd ruined his life! God...it wasn't fair. Why should Mark have to suffer for my own fucking mistakes? Why Mark, who's been nothing but understanding, and caring, and helpful to me throughout my numerous fuck ups? God, it just wasn't fair.
Mark POV:
For three days I've been living in absolute hell. I've thought about suicide a countless number of times but I know that even if I wanted to do it I never actually would. Roger's a mess too. I know he feels bad, hell, he must apologize every other hour, but I can't bring myself to talk to him. Or anyone else for that matter. It's not that I'm mad, exactly...I'm not. Well, not at him anyway. Just at this whole situation I guess. I know how this must be upsetting Roger, and I know he's thinking about when he went through this himself.
I'm not stupid, I know I'm not the only one thinking about suicide. I saw him sneak a kitchen knife into his room the other day. I didn't say anything but watched through the crack in his door. If he had done anything I would have been there in a second but, thank God, he didn't, and he put the knife back the next day. I guess he's a lot stronger than we all thought.
That thought alone is what's helping me through my own suicidal fantasies. Roger found out he had AIDS in April's suicide note. He was the one that found her, wrists slit, in the bathroom. At that point he was a junkie, devoted to heroine, but he quit and went through six hellish months of painful withdrawal. He dealt with his HIV diagnosis, a drug addiction, and the death of his girlfriend all at the same time and me pulled through. He went through this three times worse than I am now and he made it. That's what keeps me going, knowing that if he did it than I can too.
Roger POV
I hear Mark shuffling around the kitchen, probably looking for something to eat, although I know he won't actually eat it. He hasn't eaten in three days and every time I try to get him to he just turns around and storms into his room, slamming the door behind him. But, not about to give up, I venture into the kitchen to find him absently looking through the cabinets.
"Are you hungry?"
He doesn't answer, just goes to the living room and flops down on the couch. Well, this is an improvement at least. I'm about to try again when someone knocks on the door. I look at Mark, hoping he'll take the initiative and answer the door, but he doesn't so when I hear Collins' voice from the hall I get up to answer it myself.
"Hey Roger!" He gives me a big hug but I keep my arms firmly planted by my side. He releases me and frowns. "How's Mark?" When I don't answer he frowns again and asks "How are you?"
Me? I'm doing just great, I don't think I've stopped crying for more then ten minutes at a time in the past week, I've been battling the voice screaming at me in the back of my head to kill myself, so overall...I'd say I'm doing pretty damn good. "I'm fine." Yes, that's right. Frantic, Insecure, Neurotic, Emotional: Fine.
He looks at me skeptically and then motions to the figure sitting sullenly on the couch, staring at the blank tv screen. "How's he dealing with all of this?"
I sigh, tears threatening to break again. I lower my voice. "God, Collins...he's so miserable..." My voice cracks. "And it's all my fault." I lose the battle with my tears and start crying once again and Collins hugs me, trying to comfort me, though I know I don't deserve to be comforted. I pull away from him, trying to stop the tears but not succeeding very well. "He won't talk to anyone, he's said maybe four words, tops, in the past three days, he won't eat..." My voice trails off, a lump rising in my throat as the screaming voice in my head reminds me that I did this to him.
Collins pats me on the back. "Why don't you let me talk to him." I start to walk away but he pulls me back. "And Roger? Don't be so hard on yourself, ok?" I don't say anything, I just turn and walk into my room where I curl up in a corner and cry for the next half hour.
Mark POV
"Mark?" I don't turn around, I don't respond. Collins moves closer to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "I know what you're going through." I drop my head.
"I know..." My voice sounds strange to me after hardly speaking for the past few days. He sits down next to me and lifts my chin 'til I look at him.
"So does Roger." I don't say anything and he sighs. "Listen, Mark, out of our group of friends, four out of seven of us have gone through this exact same thing. And, save Angel, we're all still here to talk about it. Having AIDS isn't the worst thing in the world. Don't get me wrong, it totally sucks, but you're still going to have a normal life. Just shorter. It's up to you what you do with the rest of your time here. It's true, you're not going to live as long as say, Maureen or Joanne, I won't lie to you, but do you want to spend the time you have left depressed and mad at your best friend?"
"I'm
not mad..."
"I know that. But he
doesn't." He sighs again. "Listen Mark, I'm not gonna lie to you,
he's hanging on by a thread. How long do you think he can keep going on like
this? The guilt is killing him, he's a wreck. I'm not saying that you can't or
shouldn't be angry and upset about having AIDS, you have every right to
be...just don't take it out on him. And, come to think of it, he can probably
help you get through this. He went through it too, you know."
"I know. It's just...God, I mean, everything is happening so fast. I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with this, and, for some reason, I know if I talk to Roger I'll have to deal with it."
"Well, you're going to have to deal with it sooner or later...And it might as well be sooner, while you still have a best friend to help you deal with it."
He's right, I know he's right. I know I have to do this, if not for me then for Roger. Because the next time he has that knife he may not have the strength to put it down. I nod and Collins pats me on the back, giving me an encouraging smile.
"Good. You're doing the right thing." I nod again and start to stand up but my stomach growls and he pulls me back. "And for God sakes, Mark, eat something!" He pokes my stomach and chuckles. "You're skinny enough as it is." I laugh a little and stand up again, knowing what I have to do.
I knock on Roger's door and at first there's no reply. I get nervous, thinking he may have actually gone through with it. "Roger?" I hear him jump up quickly and open the door.
"Mark?"
God, he really is a wreck. He looks worse than me, if that's at all possible. His hair is messy and sticking out in every possible direction, his face is red and streaked with tears, and the clothes that he's been wearing for three days straight are dirty and wrinkled. I walk into his room, taking note, however, that his room is cleaner than I can ever remember.
Roger POV
I watch Mark walk into my room, sitting down on my bed. He doesn't say anything at first and we sit there for a moment in awkward silence.
"I'm sorry."
I look up, shocked. "What?? Why are you apologizing??"
He looks down. "For the way I acted. I shouldn't have-"
I cut him off quickly. "Mark, you have every right to..."
"I know." He shakes his head. "But still, it wasn't right."
I've apologized to him about twenty times a day since this whole thing started but I feel the need to again. "God, Mark...I'm so sorry, you have no idea how..." I try to hold back the tears forming in my eyes but can't help it as they spill over onto my cheeks. "I'm so sorry! God, you have every right to hate me, I don't blame you one bit."
"Roger... His voice is soothing. "Roger, I don't hate you, I couldn't. It's not your fault, it's not...don't be sorry...shh..." He rubs my back.
I have the urge to throw my arms around his neck, so happy that he seems to have forgiven me but I know at the same time that I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve how he's treating me now.
He seems to sense my discomfort and stands up, offering me his hand. "How about we get something to eat? I'm starving." He smiles tentatively but I know he's just trying to make me feel better. But I take his hand anyway and let him drag me into the kitchen where Collins is standing over the "stove," boiling water for tea.
There are three bowls of Captain Crunch on the table and Mark sits down and starts eating hungrily out of one of them. My heart soars to see him eating again but that is followed by another pang of guilt when I remember it was me that made him stop eating in the first place. So looking at the bowl of Captain Crunch on the table, and Mark's tear-stained face which is smiling for my sake, I come up with the perfect way to punish myself for doing this to my Mark, since he obviously isn't going to do it himself...