Mark POV:
I walk out of Roger's room, where I've been for the past two hours, apologizing for yelling at him like that and saying those things to him before. I could kill myself for that. I'm thoroughly sure now that I've ruined the little trust that Roger had in me to begin with.
I just couldn't help it. For months and months I've been trying to help him, doing everything I can and yet he still refuses to so much as talk to me about it. And it's just so frustrating to watch him go through all this, to watch him suffer all on his own because he refuses to let anyone into his world of pain.
But, I still had no right to say the things I said to him before, and I hope he believes me when I say that I didn't mean it and I was just frustrated and upset. It's been a long day for all of us and I'm sure we'll all feel better in the morning after a good night's rest.
I look at my watch and realize that it's only 9:30. Usually I'm up much later than this, 2:00, even 3:00 in the morning. But I'm just so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, after everything that's happened today, so I walk towards my bedroom, stifling a yawn.
Just as I'm about to walk in I hear a knock on the front door and I groan. I contemplate just ignoring whoever it is, and going into my room to sleep anyway, but then I hear a sort of high-pitched squeaking coming from outside and I realize that it's Maureen and that she's crying.
I sigh and open the front door, letting her in. Her face is red and tear stained and I notice that she's left a trail of crumpled tissues behind her in the hallway.
"Maureen? Are you okay?"
A few more squeaks, a sniffle and then, "Pookie!"
She throws her arms around my neck, nearly suffocating me in her embrace.
I cough a little as she releases me. "What's wrong?"
"I-It's Joanne… S-she kicked me out!"
"You broke up again?"
She nods and sniffs again. "She says I have to have my things packed by tomorrow…"
Oh no, I have a feeling I know where this is going…
"Can I stay with you, Pookie? Pleeeaaase?" She gives me her infamous Maureen pout and I sigh, not wanting to let her live with us, but not being able to refuse either.
At any other time I would have jumped at the chance to have Maureen live with me again, but I know that's the last thing Roger needs right now. Maureen's not exactly his favorite person in the world, though I suspect he likes her a little more than he lets on. But still, I know he wouldn't go for the idea of her living here again. And I don't think I can stand living with Maureen and Roger under the same roof. Especially not with the way Roger's been acting lately.
"Are you sure it's really over, Maureen? I mean, you guys break up every other week."
"I know," she cries. "But she wants me to move this time, and I have nowhere to go until we get back together again… Please Honeybear? Please, please please?"
I sigh. "Listen, I'll go talk to Joanne, okay? And if she still won't let you back in the apartment, then you can stay here until you guys make up."
She squeals again, though this time out of happiness and says, "Thanks Mark!"
I nod, searching around for some money just in case I need to bribe Joanne into letting Maureen stay with her. After I find a few crumpled bills lying around, I head out the door, promising to be back within the hour and instructing Maureen to stay in the kitchen/living room and to leave Roger alone.
Maureen POV:
I pout when Mark leaves, mad at him for leaving me all by myself when I'm obviously going through a major crisis here. I cry for a few more minutes, to myself, but eventually I get lonely and stop when I realize that no one's here to hear me.
Suddenly, something that Mark said before he left flashes through my mind and I smile.
Don't bother Roger.
Yay! That means Roger's home! I get up from my spot on the couch and knock on Roger's door, disregarding Mark's instructions to leave him alone. Honestly, I don't know how he expects me to deal with this all by myself. How insensitive!
Roger doesn't answer so I walk in without waiting for a reply, and start sobbing again when I see him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling.
"Roger?"
He looks at me briefly and then returns his gaze to the crack in the ceiling without saying anything.
"Roger, why won't you answer me?"
I pout and start to cry again, deciding to tell him about my fight with Joanne anyway.
"…and then she said, 'I want you packed by tomorrow,' and I said, 'But Honeybear, why? I didn't mean to cheat on you, honest! She came on to me, I mean, can you blame her?' and then she said, 'That's it, I want you out, now!' and I said, 'Pookie, you're leaving me?' and she said, 'Yes, and for good this time!' and I said… Roger, why are you wearing a sweatshirt, Honey? It's, like, 100 degrees in here! You must be sweating!" I say in one breath.
He removes the pillow from his head and stares at me. "Are you done yet?"
I pout, realizing that he hadn't heard a word I said. I decide to take pity on him though, deciding that it just must be the heat getting to him. I sit down next to him on his bed and rub his arms. The poor dear must be overheated, no wonder he wasn't listening to me!
I feel bad for him so I reach for his sweatshirt, deciding to make him a little more comfortable, and begin to pull the shirt over his head.
He pulls back sharply, his left sleeve rolling up just a bit and I gasp and reach for the arm again, pulling the sleeve up all the way.
"Roger!" I scream in horror when I see the awful scars running in every direction. "What the FUCK happened to you, Baby? You look like you were run over my a train, or attacked by a lion or something!!"
I cringe and yank up the sleeve on the other arm as well, gasping again when I see that this one is just as bad.
"Go AWAY Maureen! Get out!" he yells as he pulls back sharply.
"No, I won't. I'm worried about you, Baby, what happened?"
I'm beginning to get scared. What if something really bad happened to him? Those scars… I shudder at the memory… looked like they're from an attack or something. Or like someone's abusing him.
He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and then finally looks up and says, "I fell on some glass, that's all. Don't worry about it."
"No, no you didn't. You didn't fall on glass Roger, don't lie to me!"
He glares at me and from the look on his face I know to shut up now before I get him even angrier. I definitely don't want to get on the wrong side of Roger's rage.
I sigh. "Okay, just let me see again."
He gives me a look and I quickly realize how suspicious that must have sounded. I search for a cover up and quickly say, "I just want to make sure they're not infected…"
"They're not," he says and gets off his bed, pulling me up with him. He pushes me towards the door and hesitates just before shoving me out. "Don't tell Mark," he whispers and then I'm pushed out of the room, the door securely locked behind me.
Mark walks back in the front door, just as I'm shoved out of Roger's room, muttering something under his breath about not having any money left.
And suddenly it all makes sense. The scars on both of his arms, the severity of the wounds, how they were all lined up like they were inflicted, how he didn't want me to tell Mark…
"Mark!!" I yell, storming over to him.
He looks confused for a second and says, "What? What's wrong now?"
I slap him, hard, across the face. "You fucking asshole, how the fuck could you do that to Roger?!" I backhand him again and cross my arms, unfazed by the look of utter confusion on his face. Yeah right, he knows I figured it out, he's just playing stupid.
"What the FUCK Maureen?" he shouts, pressing a hand to the trickle of blood under his nose. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about, you pathetic abusive bastard!"
"What?! Abusive? What are you TALKING about??"
"Don't play dumb. I saw Roger's arms, I know what you did to him! I should have known, this kind of thing runs in the family…" I shake my head sadly. I never would have thought Mark would be the kind of person to do this to his best friend.
"His…his arms?" All of a sudden his face goes from angry to scared and concerned.
"Yes. I saw what you've been doing to him."
"And what
makes you think I did it to him?"
"Because what else
leaves scars like that? What else can make cuts that bad?" I yell, about ready
to slap him again.
He looks sad all of a sudden and takes my arm, saying, "I didn't do that to him Maureen." And then I'm pushed out of a door for the second time today.
"But Pookie," I yell, banging on the door. "I have nowhere to go!"
"Yes you do," he calls back. "You're staying with Joanne."
I squeal. "She forgives me?"
"Yeah," he says, sounding a little preoccupied.
"Good," I say and start to walk away. "Now she can help me sue your ass for abuse."
Mark POV:
I sit down on the couch and lean my head over the back, rubbing my temples. God, what a day. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
I can't believe him. I can't believe he's doing it again. And that he didn't tell me! Well, I guess that part's no surprise. He's been lying to me for months. Okay, that's it. I'm pushed to my breaking point here, I'm not going to take this anymore from him. I honestly didn't think he was going to go forever without cutting himself again, but I need to know that he at least wants to get better. I need to know what's going on with him, why he's doing it, why he doesn't want to stop, why he doesn't want help.
I get up off the couch and walk over to his door. So many questions are running through my mind. And this time I'm not leaving until I get answers.
A/N: Just felt the need for a more light-hearted chapter. Not so angsty…well, not *as* angsty. Sadness will resume in the next chapter!
