(Disclaimer: I have not acquired the rights to any of the characters in my long break from writing this story.)

I'm back (because Alissa threatened me ;_;) after a long break, way too long. This one is dedicated to you, Liss! Note the title. I met my deadline. *meep* It's really short, but it's the "stepping stone" to the next chapter. And I couldn't think of how to handle everything at once. Please review! They're great encouragement to keep me writing!

Ch 7: Midnight

Roger sat alone in the dark loft. Mark had locked himself in his room hours ago, with barely a word exchanged between the two of them. Mimi had… well, Roger really didn't give a damn about her right now. Wait, no. That is all wrong. He had to care now, because he was the one who had fucked up. How could she have known so soon? That thought tormented him. He decided it must have been one of those woman's intuition things since she had gone to the free clinic the other day, "just to be sure," she said. Once Mark had disappeared into the loft without a word she tried to make it seem like a good thing. How can two people with AIDS raising a child be a good thing? Roger buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to believe it at first, he even asked to see a copy of the results. She became indignant, of course, and Roger apologized, of course. He said he needed time, she said he had nine months.

All his thoughts whirled around his head, making him dizzy. He needed to lie down, but the thought of being alone in his room bothered him. He wanted Mark to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay and make him believe it. He made a half-hearted attempt at knocking on Mark's door.

"Please open the door, Mark," he whispered, knowing that Mark could hear him. "Mark!" Roger had never felt so lost before, he always knew what to do, and when he didn't he ran away. He gave up, knowing full well that Mark didn't want to be with him right now, Roger didn't even want to be with himself. Roger climbed onto the couch and sprawled across it full-length. What do I do now? he asked himself over and over while massaging his temples.

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Mark lay on his bed, devoid of energy. His mind was reeling but his body was exhausted. He wondered why he thought staying up replaying everything in his head would reveal the answers. The only way to get answers was to talk to the man who had just tapped softly on his door a few minutes ago, calling out his name. Mark had heard it and ignored it, the hardest thing he'd gone through all night. Mark was sure he'd be there for Roger through all of this, no matter how much of a protest that Mimi would put up, they were still best friends, if nothing else, because of the situation. Mark laughed a bit to himself. "The situation." He found it amusing how people in general would refuse to admit things openly. Mimi's pregnant. Knocked up by Roger. The same Roger who's supposed to be mine now. There, he'd admitted it to himself. It didn't make him feel any better.

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Mimi sat on the floor in her bathroom staring at the slip of paper in her trembling hands. I did it. She slowly shredded the paper and tossed the pieces into the toilet. The ink bled and smeared, barely a trace left of what it was. It's for the best, Roger. Trust me.