Disclaimer: Not mine... all characters belong to Jonathan Larson.
A/N: I don't even know where Roger is.... =/
Chapter 7- Gone
"Roger did what to him?! How is he?"
Voices floated in the air around him and Mark turned over on the bed, floating in the space between dreams and reality.
"He's sleeping. Finally. I practically had to hold his nose to make him swallow those pills his doctor gave him. Painkillers, I think. He wanted to leave."
"Thanks for not letting him go."
Silence.
And then faint mumbling.
April?
Mark opened his eyes and blinked, straining to hear.
More mumbling.
He heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom. The door opened wide and Mark sat up eagerly, despite the fresh wave of pain that shot through his head.
"Oh my God, pookie! What did that bastard do to you?" Maureen exclaimed.
Mark blinked at her in surprise. Her blonde curls bounced as she ran to his side and Mark cried out in pain when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Oh my poor Markie." she said, releasing him. "My poor, poor baby. I'm gonna kill Roger for what he did to you!"
Mark stared at her, still trying to comprehend what was happening.
Where was April?
"What time is it?" he asked. Maureen looked at him strangely and then glanced down at her wristwatch.
"It's six o'clock." she said, looking back up at his face. She reached out and touched his face gently. Her cool fingers felt soothing and Mark closed his eyes briefly.
"Oh, Mark, sweetie, why didn't you call me when this happened? I would have taken care of you, baby. You know that."
"How did you find out?" Mark asked, opening his eyes.
"I stopped by the loft about an hour ago and no one was there." she said. Maureen tilted her head and stroked his cheek. "But I saw dried blood on the floor and wall and panicked. I... I called everyone we knew and finally Collins... God, Mark you should have called me as soon as you got here."
Her blue eyes filled with tears and she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his lips.
"You should have moved out when I told you to." she said sadly. "I'm so, so sorry, Mark."
Mark stiffened when she hugged him again but this time her embrace was gentle; loving. He leaned against her and felt tears come into his eyes. It had been so long since someone, anyone, had held him like this, a long time since someone actually took care of him instead of the other way around, and it felt good. He needed the contact, needed to feel someone close to him who wanted to hold him. He sighed against Maureen and closed his eyes.
"I love you, Mark. I really do." she said, rubbing his back. "I'll help you find a new place and we can decorate it together and..."
Mark pulled away from her and looked into her face, incredulous. She stared back at him.
"What?"
"God, Maureen." he said, shaking his head in disgust. "I can't believe you..."
"Mark, what?" she said, her face growing cold.
"Nevermind."
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"You really don't want me, do you?" he said softly. His voice was confused but not weak. "You really just don't want me around you."
"That's not true, Mark." she said but the quiver in her voice gave her away.
"Yes, it is." Mark said. He leaned back on the pillows behind him and looked at her. "You know it is. If you don't want me around then why not just break up with me, Maureen? Why pull me along this long? Why drag it out?"
Her blue eyes grew dark, not with anger, but with a deep sadness that Mark felt himself.
"I love you, Mark." she said. "I truly love you. But..."
"You're not in love with me." He almost laughed. This was like a bad movie.
It seemed unreal.
She shook her head slowly and reached out for his hand. "Mark, I just... I'm not the woman you want me to be. I'm not the person you need me to be. You know that as well as I do. You always wanted someone to take care of, someone to protect, watch over- it's just your nature. And I just... I'm just not that person. And you're not.. "
"The man you want me to be." Mark finished for her. "I guess your stage wasn't big enough for the both us, right?"
Maureen looked at him, pained. He sighed when tears began to gather in her eyes again and cursed himself inside. He was tired, sore, disappointed and depressed but Maureen didn't deserve to get the sharp end of his chaotic emotions.
"I'm sorry." he said fnally. He squeezed her hand as a single tear slid down her cheek. "Maureen... I.. I'm just tired right now. I shouldn't be talking about this- us, right now."
She nodded and smiled at him through her tears.
"Can I come back later? Tomorrow? I really want to make things right between us, Mark." she asked and he smiled back.
"Of course." he said. She hugged him again, carefully avoiding his bruises and he hugged her back tightly. When they finally pulled apart, Maureen reached up and cupped Mark's cheek gently.
"Mark, I want you to get out of that loft." she said seriously. "It's obviously not safe for you anymore. Before you tell me for the millionth time that Roger's your bestfriend, I want you to think. Really think about whether or not you want to keep putting yourself through this. Maybe he needs to lose you before he realizes what an asshole he's been. Look, even I'll admit that he was an okay guy before. He loved you. I know that. But now if I could, I'd keep him a mile away from you at all times. You're as stubborn as he can be sometimes. Just take care of yourself, Mark. That's all I'm saying."
Mark said nothing when she stood up and walked towards the door.
"Take care of yourself, Mark." she repeated, pausing at the door to look at him one last time. "We'll talk about things.... later. I love you."
"I love you too, Maureen." he said.
She flashed him another smile and closed the door behind her as she walked out. He closed his eyes and leaned back again, feeling empty.
"It's over." he said in quiet disbelief.
It's really over this time.
No tears or yelling or fighting.
Just a simple, five minute conversation and that was it.
(... we'll talk about things later...)
Yeah, right, he thought. That's just a euphemism for 'we're pretty much over. Sorry.'
But it didn't sting as much as it should have and he felt guilty for not feeling more.
He opened his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, wincing when his fingers came in contact with the large bump on the back of his head. For a few minutes, he laid there, thinking. Finally, he decided to get up. He slowly swung his legs around to the side of the bed and stood up slowly. His entire body felt stiff and sore and it took him a moment to gather up enough strength to walk to the door.
"Collins?" he said hesitantly, as he pushed the door open.
Collins' tall frame stepped into the livingroom and he hurried towards Mark with a frown.
"You're supposed to stay in bed, Mark." he said disapprovingly.
"No, I can't stay still right now." Mark said, leaning against the doorframe. "Can I just sit out here?"
Collins thought for a moment before holding out his arm for Mark to hold on to.
"Okay, but you're staying on the couch." he said. "You've suffered a head injury and no matter how slight it is, you have to get some rest."
Mark smiled at him gratefully and held onto Collins's arm as he was led to the couch. He sat down and winced at the sharp jolt in his head when he landed on the cushion. Collins handed him the remote and looked down at him.
"You stay right here. I've made some soup and a sandwich for you so you can eat before you have to take the next pill." Collins said, moving back towards the kitchen.
Mark fingered the remote in his hands and stared at it.
Where was April?
Where was Roger?
What was happening?
A thought entered Mark's mind and he looked up, even though he was alone in the room.
"Collins, April didn't stop by or anything while I was asleep, did she?" he asked loudly.
He heard footsteps as Collins shuffled back into the livingroom. He looked at Mark and then gestured to the small black bag that had been left next to the table near the far end of the couch.
"I almost forgot about that." Collins said. "April came around two, two thirty, maybe. She dropped off a bag of your stuff and...."
Mark threw the remote on the table, stood up and headed towards the door.
"God, Collins why didn't you wake me up?" Mark said reaching for the doorknob. "I have to find her, I have to help her find Roger, I have to see her and..."
Before Mark could open the door, Collins's arms wrapped themselves over him and drew him back, away from the door. Mark struggled violently in his embrace, trying to wriggle his arms free.
"Let me go!" Mark cried. "I have to find her, you don't understand!"
Collins picked him, still in the bear hug and dumped him on the couch. He loomed over Mark and Mark knew he was beaten. Although Collins was sick, he was still five inches taller than Mark and probably weighed almost 20 pounds more. He sat up and looked up at Collins.
"You don't understand." he repeated softly. "She's out there by herself and... and she's only nineteen and... and..."
Something in Collins's eyes changed. His expression softened and he sat down next to Mark.
"Let me go, please?" Mark asked again. "I'll take the pill now and that'll kill the pain and I'll come back in an hour, I promise. One hour to..."
"You're in love with her." Collins said softly.
Mark stared at him, feeling his heart pound in his chest.
He opened his mouth to deny it, to act as if Collins were crazy and to tell him that April was nothing more than a friend he had to help but he couldn't.
He stared at Collins blankly, trying to will his lips to move but found they wouldn't obey him.
After a few minutes, Collins sighed and put his hand on Mark's shoulder and Mark gave up trying to lie.
"Do you think she knows?" Mark asked quietly.
"I knew from the moment you mentioned her name, Mark. I think even Maureen suspects but you know she'll never admit it. The way you talk about her..." he said with a slight smile. It quickly faded. "But I don't think April knows. In fact, I think she has a lot more on her mind..."
"Roger."
"No." Collins shook his head. "I mean, yes, but it's almost an obsession, isn't it? Last week while we were going over what to say and what to do at the intervention... she was practically devouring the pamphlets you gave her to read. She wants to make sure he's okay, almost as if..."
He trailed off thoughtfully.
"As if what?" Mark asked.
Collins shrugged. "I don't know." he said honestly. "She's just a very troubled young girl."
Mark's hands curled up into fists and he began to grow agitated again.
"Yes, she's a very troubled young girl who's also out there right now looking for her drug addict boyfriend." he said. "April knows where Roger gets his drugs and she knows where he goes... Collins, I have to find her before... before she gets hurt or someone else finds her."
"Mark, you could barely make it to the door, how do you expect to walk around the city and find April and Roger?" Collins said. "And you said it yourself, April knows where he gets his drugs and where he hangs out. Do you?"
Mark shrugged. "I just have to try." he said simply.
Collins sighed. He stood and picked up his jacket from the corner of the couch.
"No, you have to rest." Collins said firmly. "I'll look for her if you stay here. You can not leave, Mark."
Mark's eyes widened and he shook his head.
"Collins, you're sick, you can't!" Mark exclaimed. "You're in worse shape than I am! You can't go out there and.."
"I'm in better condition than you're in right now, Mark." Collins said. "I'll be fine. But I do agree- April shouldn't be out there by herself. She strikes me as being very naive despite everything she's been through."
Mark shook his head but this time his protest was weak.
"I should be the one to look for her."
Collins ignored him and buttoned up his jacket. He picked up his hat and pressed it down his head firmly.
"Stay here, Mark." Collins said, turning to him one last time at the door. "I won't stop searching until I find her and Roger but you have to stay here."
Mark nodded silently and watched as Collins walked out the door.
He reached for the bag that April had left him and zipped it open. He uttered a small sound of relief as he pulled out his camera. She had cleaned it up and as Mark peered closely at it, he could see faint scratches on its surface.
She probably scoured the thing, Mark thought, suddenly remembering April's accident.
He put the camera aside and dug out a few articles of clothing, his scarf, his toothbrush, deoderant, and...
He frowned.
He picked it up slowly while a mixture of pain and joy churned in his stomach.
It was her book.
"She was at the loft." Collins said before Mark could even open his mouth to speak.
Mark took a step back and let him walk through the door. April's head lay limp against his shoulder and her legs dangled in the air. Her eyes were shut and her skin was almost perfectly white.
Mark wanted to grab her, take her from Collins' arms and press her against himself. He wanted to make sure that she was real.
He had waited for Collins to return home for what seemed to be an eternity.
Mark had spent the last five hours, pacing back and forth in the livingroom. He would sit down and close his eyes when the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him but he always got back to his feet. He couldn't stay still; couldn't sit still.
Images, both memory and fantasy, had passed through his mind at light speed.
Roger's hate-filled face.
April's hysterical eyes.
Maureen's bright, blonde curls.
Collins's sympathetic smile.
April's white sweater, stained with his blood.
His own face in the hospital mirror.
April lying unconscious in a dark alley.
At one point, Mark had screamed at himself to stop. To stop thinking, stop imagining the horrible things that flooded his brain.
Finally, his thoughts had faded into a dim white background and he had calmed down, feeling numbed and cold.
"Is she... is she...?"
Mark didn't know what he wanted to ask. He shut the door as Collins walked to the bedroom with April in his arms. Mark followed him and walked inside the room just as Collins was setting her down on the bed that Mark had laid in just a few hours before.
"She's okay. Not great but she's okay." Collins said.
"She's sleeping?" Mark asked. He looked down at her still body and frowned. She looked like a marble statue of a sleeping figure.
She wasn't moving.
Mark moved closer to her and touched her cheek. Her skin was cool.
"I looked all over the neighborhood for hours." Collins said. "I even ran into a few of his bandmates." Collins' voice was thick with disgust, something Mark rarely heard.
Mark looked up at his friend.
"Of course, they wouldn't tell me anything but one of them did say something about Roger's girlfriend running around." Collins glanced back at April. "I went around to almost every club we've been to with him before I finally headed back to the loft. That's where I found the little one."
"The little one?" Mark's mouth twitched at the corners.
Collins smiled at him. "Well, she's the smallest one out of all of us, isn't she? Next to you, at least."
Mark looked back down at April and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face.
"She's the youngest one, too." Mark said quietly.
"She was sleeping on the couch when I walked in." Collins said after a short pause. "It looked like she had just gotten there. But she was beyond exhausted, Mark. I think she's in a state of shock. It's probably best that we let her sleep for awhile, let her mind recover. I tried to wake her up but she seemed lost. Disoriented. I told her to go back to sleep. There was no way she could have made it here on her feet."
Mark looked back at Collins, his eyes wide with amazement.
"God, you carried her all the way here?"
Collins' smile grew bigger.
"I'm not God and we took a cab, Mark." he said, hitting him once on the back. "I may be stronger than you but that's not saying much."
He gestured back at April.
"Throw some more blankets on her, Mark. They're in the closet, second shelf to the right." Collins said. He walked towards the door and Mark glanced up at him.
"Collins, wait." he said, standing up straight. "Where are you..."
"I'm going to take my meds. My pager went off about ten minutes ago." he said, glancing back. "Besides, I don't think you need me to help you take care of her, do you?"
Mark shook his head and Collins closed the door behind him. He turned back to April and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her . Dark blue shadows lined her eyes and her lips were almost as pale as the rest of her face. She looked both old and young; vulnerable and beaten.
His eyes traveled downwards. The bandage across her palm was now dirty and coming loose. Her shirt and jeans looked filthy and her shoes were covered with dark brown dirt.
Mark moved towards them and slipped them off of her feet, dropping them down to the floor and then wiping his hands on his pants.
Dirt, he thought. From the park? Did she go to the park? At this time?
Shit.
She could have gotten raped or mugged or worse.
Mark stood up and walked to the closet. He pulled out a thick looking blanket and spread it out over the bed carefully. He pulled on the edges until it covered her body up to her chest and sat down next to her again.
Her eyes tightened and her mouth pulled down into a grimace. She turned her head to the side and her hands opened and closed.
Mark hesitated and then reached forward and gently moved his hand over her hair.
"Shh, April." he said softly. "It's okay. Shh."
( ... You always wanted someone to take care of, someone to protect, watch over- it's just your nature....)
Maureen's words.
Mark looked down at April and sighed.
For a moment, he thought she had fallen back into unconsciousness when her eyes suddenly fluttered open. His heart leapt into his throat and for a moment, all he could do was stare at her.
"Mark?" she said, sounding confused.
"Yeah, it's me." he said. He bit his lower lip and pulled back his hand from her hair.
She rubbed her eyes and then struggled to prop herself up on her elbows.
"Where am I?" she asked, looking around. "I was at the loft and.. and..."
"Collins found you there." he said, nodding.
He paused.
Suddenly Mark felt awkward and strange. He sat up and averted his eyes from her gaze. His eagerness to see her had disappeared and now he felt uncomfortable in her presence. He suddenly got the feeling that she would be angry at finding herself in Collins' apartment instead of at the loft, waiting for Roger.
"He took you here. To his apartment." Mark said, finally. He stood up and held his breath, expecting a cry of protest. He was sure she was going to stand up to try and fight her way outside.
Instead, she leaned back down on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
"I'm so tired, Mark."
He was instantly worried.
"Go back to sleep, April." he said. "I'll get you a glass of milk. Tea. Something warm. It'll help you sleep."
She waved her hand dismissively and sat up again.
"No. I don't want that." she said quietly. "But I do want to go back to sleep."
"Okay." He moved towards the door. "I'll be outside then, if you..."
"Mark."
He stopped and turned around. She looked at him and Mark thought she looked nervous. Scared.
"Yeah?"
"Don't leave me alone. Please? Not right now." she said softly. She held out her unwounded hand and for a moment, Mark stared at it without understanding, not willing himself to believe.
"Mark, please? Just until I fall asleep?"
He moved towards her silently and took her hand. Her cold, slim fingers pulled him down onto the bed next to her and he shivered when his bare arm brushed against her skin.
She was so cold.
He slid one arm around her waist and she pressed her cheek against his chest. One hand clutched at the sleeve of his shirt and the other one, the one with the cut, she kept pressed firmly against her own chest. He felt her legs move against his and he took a deep breath, trying his best to control his furiously beating heart. For a long time they lay there, quiet and still, and Mark found himself slowly growing comfortably warm.
After awhile, he closed his eyes and tilted his head downward so that his chin was touching the top of her head. He almost raised his hand to take off his glasses but found that he was too tired to move.
And soon, without even meaning to, he fell asleep.
He woke up in darkness and for a moment he panicked, not knowing where he was. He blinked rapidly, moving his eyes around until he found a small source of light.
01:33 A.M.
The red light of Collins' digital clock flashed the time and Mark relaxed. He heard the sound of soft, deep breaths and relaxed even more. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light and shadows, he moved away from the sleeping source of warmth next to him and peered down.
Was it his imagination or had April's cheeks grown slightly pink? Her breathing sounded easy and even, miles away from the ragged cough she had adopted for the past few months.
She was okay. He was okay. Everything was okay.
That's not true! a voice in his mind screamed.
Mark moaned softly as the voice became louder.
Nothing is okay, Mark, and you know it!
Where did April go?
His guilt answered for him.
She went to go find Roger, Mark. She risked her own safety, her own health, her own sanity to find Roger.
And where were you?
Mark closed his eyes and clenched his jaw though it hurt him to do so.
Yes and where were you, Mark? the voice asked maliciously.
Where were you while she was out there getting dirt on her shoes?
And where's Roger, Mark? Did you even spare him one thought while you were sitting here, nice and safe, worrying about his girlfriend?
Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, dampening the pillow beneath his face.
Why are you still here, Mark?
Why is April sleeping in your arms?
Why?
Why?
Why.
April shifted next to him, uttering a sound of discomfort. Mark looked down and realized that his grip on her had tightened considerably. He forced himself to pull his arm away from her and sat up.
"Please, no." he sobbed, covering his swollen mouth. "P-Please st-st-stop."
You should be out there looking for him, the voice of his guilt went on.
Not in here, not with her.
Mark wiped his face and crept out of the bed as carefully as he could. He bit his tongue, trying to control the rest of the sobs that threatened to come out. He stood on the opposite side of the bed where April lay. With a heavy heart, he took a pillow that had been pushed aside and placed it in her arms; he didn't want her to sleep with nothing to hold. He stared at her for a moment, studying her face.
"I love you, April." he whispered, knowing that she couldn't hear him.
He turned around and opened the door into the livingroom.
Outside, the livingroom was bright and cheerful. Mark looked around, looking for traces of Collins and found a note on the kitchen counter.
Mark,
Stayed over a friend's house for the night. You and April have run of my place until tomorrow.
We'll go to the police station tomorrow and find Roger.
-T.C
PS- Don't leave the apartment!
PPS- Take care of each other.
Mark put the note down and walked towards the couch where he had left the bag of clothes April had brought. He pulled out a sweater and pulled it over the one he wore. He took his scarf and wrapped it tightly around his neck. He pushed up his glasses with his finger and looked back at the bedroom door.
Go now before you change your mind, the voice warned.
He picked up his camera, made sure that there was film in it, and headed out the front door into the cold, cold night.
A/N: I don't even know where Roger is.... =/
Chapter 7- Gone
"Roger did what to him?! How is he?"
Voices floated in the air around him and Mark turned over on the bed, floating in the space between dreams and reality.
"He's sleeping. Finally. I practically had to hold his nose to make him swallow those pills his doctor gave him. Painkillers, I think. He wanted to leave."
"Thanks for not letting him go."
Silence.
And then faint mumbling.
April?
Mark opened his eyes and blinked, straining to hear.
More mumbling.
He heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom. The door opened wide and Mark sat up eagerly, despite the fresh wave of pain that shot through his head.
"Oh my God, pookie! What did that bastard do to you?" Maureen exclaimed.
Mark blinked at her in surprise. Her blonde curls bounced as she ran to his side and Mark cried out in pain when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Oh my poor Markie." she said, releasing him. "My poor, poor baby. I'm gonna kill Roger for what he did to you!"
Mark stared at her, still trying to comprehend what was happening.
Where was April?
"What time is it?" he asked. Maureen looked at him strangely and then glanced down at her wristwatch.
"It's six o'clock." she said, looking back up at his face. She reached out and touched his face gently. Her cool fingers felt soothing and Mark closed his eyes briefly.
"Oh, Mark, sweetie, why didn't you call me when this happened? I would have taken care of you, baby. You know that."
"How did you find out?" Mark asked, opening his eyes.
"I stopped by the loft about an hour ago and no one was there." she said. Maureen tilted her head and stroked his cheek. "But I saw dried blood on the floor and wall and panicked. I... I called everyone we knew and finally Collins... God, Mark you should have called me as soon as you got here."
Her blue eyes filled with tears and she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his lips.
"You should have moved out when I told you to." she said sadly. "I'm so, so sorry, Mark."
Mark stiffened when she hugged him again but this time her embrace was gentle; loving. He leaned against her and felt tears come into his eyes. It had been so long since someone, anyone, had held him like this, a long time since someone actually took care of him instead of the other way around, and it felt good. He needed the contact, needed to feel someone close to him who wanted to hold him. He sighed against Maureen and closed his eyes.
"I love you, Mark. I really do." she said, rubbing his back. "I'll help you find a new place and we can decorate it together and..."
Mark pulled away from her and looked into her face, incredulous. She stared back at him.
"What?"
"God, Maureen." he said, shaking his head in disgust. "I can't believe you..."
"Mark, what?" she said, her face growing cold.
"Nevermind."
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"You really don't want me, do you?" he said softly. His voice was confused but not weak. "You really just don't want me around you."
"That's not true, Mark." she said but the quiver in her voice gave her away.
"Yes, it is." Mark said. He leaned back on the pillows behind him and looked at her. "You know it is. If you don't want me around then why not just break up with me, Maureen? Why pull me along this long? Why drag it out?"
Her blue eyes grew dark, not with anger, but with a deep sadness that Mark felt himself.
"I love you, Mark." she said. "I truly love you. But..."
"You're not in love with me." He almost laughed. This was like a bad movie.
It seemed unreal.
She shook her head slowly and reached out for his hand. "Mark, I just... I'm not the woman you want me to be. I'm not the person you need me to be. You know that as well as I do. You always wanted someone to take care of, someone to protect, watch over- it's just your nature. And I just... I'm just not that person. And you're not.. "
"The man you want me to be." Mark finished for her. "I guess your stage wasn't big enough for the both us, right?"
Maureen looked at him, pained. He sighed when tears began to gather in her eyes again and cursed himself inside. He was tired, sore, disappointed and depressed but Maureen didn't deserve to get the sharp end of his chaotic emotions.
"I'm sorry." he said fnally. He squeezed her hand as a single tear slid down her cheek. "Maureen... I.. I'm just tired right now. I shouldn't be talking about this- us, right now."
She nodded and smiled at him through her tears.
"Can I come back later? Tomorrow? I really want to make things right between us, Mark." she asked and he smiled back.
"Of course." he said. She hugged him again, carefully avoiding his bruises and he hugged her back tightly. When they finally pulled apart, Maureen reached up and cupped Mark's cheek gently.
"Mark, I want you to get out of that loft." she said seriously. "It's obviously not safe for you anymore. Before you tell me for the millionth time that Roger's your bestfriend, I want you to think. Really think about whether or not you want to keep putting yourself through this. Maybe he needs to lose you before he realizes what an asshole he's been. Look, even I'll admit that he was an okay guy before. He loved you. I know that. But now if I could, I'd keep him a mile away from you at all times. You're as stubborn as he can be sometimes. Just take care of yourself, Mark. That's all I'm saying."
Mark said nothing when she stood up and walked towards the door.
"Take care of yourself, Mark." she repeated, pausing at the door to look at him one last time. "We'll talk about things.... later. I love you."
"I love you too, Maureen." he said.
She flashed him another smile and closed the door behind her as she walked out. He closed his eyes and leaned back again, feeling empty.
"It's over." he said in quiet disbelief.
It's really over this time.
No tears or yelling or fighting.
Just a simple, five minute conversation and that was it.
(... we'll talk about things later...)
Yeah, right, he thought. That's just a euphemism for 'we're pretty much over. Sorry.'
But it didn't sting as much as it should have and he felt guilty for not feeling more.
He opened his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, wincing when his fingers came in contact with the large bump on the back of his head. For a few minutes, he laid there, thinking. Finally, he decided to get up. He slowly swung his legs around to the side of the bed and stood up slowly. His entire body felt stiff and sore and it took him a moment to gather up enough strength to walk to the door.
"Collins?" he said hesitantly, as he pushed the door open.
Collins' tall frame stepped into the livingroom and he hurried towards Mark with a frown.
"You're supposed to stay in bed, Mark." he said disapprovingly.
"No, I can't stay still right now." Mark said, leaning against the doorframe. "Can I just sit out here?"
Collins thought for a moment before holding out his arm for Mark to hold on to.
"Okay, but you're staying on the couch." he said. "You've suffered a head injury and no matter how slight it is, you have to get some rest."
Mark smiled at him gratefully and held onto Collins's arm as he was led to the couch. He sat down and winced at the sharp jolt in his head when he landed on the cushion. Collins handed him the remote and looked down at him.
"You stay right here. I've made some soup and a sandwich for you so you can eat before you have to take the next pill." Collins said, moving back towards the kitchen.
Mark fingered the remote in his hands and stared at it.
Where was April?
Where was Roger?
What was happening?
A thought entered Mark's mind and he looked up, even though he was alone in the room.
"Collins, April didn't stop by or anything while I was asleep, did she?" he asked loudly.
He heard footsteps as Collins shuffled back into the livingroom. He looked at Mark and then gestured to the small black bag that had been left next to the table near the far end of the couch.
"I almost forgot about that." Collins said. "April came around two, two thirty, maybe. She dropped off a bag of your stuff and...."
Mark threw the remote on the table, stood up and headed towards the door.
"God, Collins why didn't you wake me up?" Mark said reaching for the doorknob. "I have to find her, I have to help her find Roger, I have to see her and..."
Before Mark could open the door, Collins's arms wrapped themselves over him and drew him back, away from the door. Mark struggled violently in his embrace, trying to wriggle his arms free.
"Let me go!" Mark cried. "I have to find her, you don't understand!"
Collins picked him, still in the bear hug and dumped him on the couch. He loomed over Mark and Mark knew he was beaten. Although Collins was sick, he was still five inches taller than Mark and probably weighed almost 20 pounds more. He sat up and looked up at Collins.
"You don't understand." he repeated softly. "She's out there by herself and... and she's only nineteen and... and..."
Something in Collins's eyes changed. His expression softened and he sat down next to Mark.
"Let me go, please?" Mark asked again. "I'll take the pill now and that'll kill the pain and I'll come back in an hour, I promise. One hour to..."
"You're in love with her." Collins said softly.
Mark stared at him, feeling his heart pound in his chest.
He opened his mouth to deny it, to act as if Collins were crazy and to tell him that April was nothing more than a friend he had to help but he couldn't.
He stared at Collins blankly, trying to will his lips to move but found they wouldn't obey him.
After a few minutes, Collins sighed and put his hand on Mark's shoulder and Mark gave up trying to lie.
"Do you think she knows?" Mark asked quietly.
"I knew from the moment you mentioned her name, Mark. I think even Maureen suspects but you know she'll never admit it. The way you talk about her..." he said with a slight smile. It quickly faded. "But I don't think April knows. In fact, I think she has a lot more on her mind..."
"Roger."
"No." Collins shook his head. "I mean, yes, but it's almost an obsession, isn't it? Last week while we were going over what to say and what to do at the intervention... she was practically devouring the pamphlets you gave her to read. She wants to make sure he's okay, almost as if..."
He trailed off thoughtfully.
"As if what?" Mark asked.
Collins shrugged. "I don't know." he said honestly. "She's just a very troubled young girl."
Mark's hands curled up into fists and he began to grow agitated again.
"Yes, she's a very troubled young girl who's also out there right now looking for her drug addict boyfriend." he said. "April knows where Roger gets his drugs and she knows where he goes... Collins, I have to find her before... before she gets hurt or someone else finds her."
"Mark, you could barely make it to the door, how do you expect to walk around the city and find April and Roger?" Collins said. "And you said it yourself, April knows where he gets his drugs and where he hangs out. Do you?"
Mark shrugged. "I just have to try." he said simply.
Collins sighed. He stood and picked up his jacket from the corner of the couch.
"No, you have to rest." Collins said firmly. "I'll look for her if you stay here. You can not leave, Mark."
Mark's eyes widened and he shook his head.
"Collins, you're sick, you can't!" Mark exclaimed. "You're in worse shape than I am! You can't go out there and.."
"I'm in better condition than you're in right now, Mark." Collins said. "I'll be fine. But I do agree- April shouldn't be out there by herself. She strikes me as being very naive despite everything she's been through."
Mark shook his head but this time his protest was weak.
"I should be the one to look for her."
Collins ignored him and buttoned up his jacket. He picked up his hat and pressed it down his head firmly.
"Stay here, Mark." Collins said, turning to him one last time at the door. "I won't stop searching until I find her and Roger but you have to stay here."
Mark nodded silently and watched as Collins walked out the door.
He reached for the bag that April had left him and zipped it open. He uttered a small sound of relief as he pulled out his camera. She had cleaned it up and as Mark peered closely at it, he could see faint scratches on its surface.
She probably scoured the thing, Mark thought, suddenly remembering April's accident.
He put the camera aside and dug out a few articles of clothing, his scarf, his toothbrush, deoderant, and...
He frowned.
He picked it up slowly while a mixture of pain and joy churned in his stomach.
It was her book.
"She was at the loft." Collins said before Mark could even open his mouth to speak.
Mark took a step back and let him walk through the door. April's head lay limp against his shoulder and her legs dangled in the air. Her eyes were shut and her skin was almost perfectly white.
Mark wanted to grab her, take her from Collins' arms and press her against himself. He wanted to make sure that she was real.
He had waited for Collins to return home for what seemed to be an eternity.
Mark had spent the last five hours, pacing back and forth in the livingroom. He would sit down and close his eyes when the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him but he always got back to his feet. He couldn't stay still; couldn't sit still.
Images, both memory and fantasy, had passed through his mind at light speed.
Roger's hate-filled face.
April's hysterical eyes.
Maureen's bright, blonde curls.
Collins's sympathetic smile.
April's white sweater, stained with his blood.
His own face in the hospital mirror.
April lying unconscious in a dark alley.
At one point, Mark had screamed at himself to stop. To stop thinking, stop imagining the horrible things that flooded his brain.
Finally, his thoughts had faded into a dim white background and he had calmed down, feeling numbed and cold.
"Is she... is she...?"
Mark didn't know what he wanted to ask. He shut the door as Collins walked to the bedroom with April in his arms. Mark followed him and walked inside the room just as Collins was setting her down on the bed that Mark had laid in just a few hours before.
"She's okay. Not great but she's okay." Collins said.
"She's sleeping?" Mark asked. He looked down at her still body and frowned. She looked like a marble statue of a sleeping figure.
She wasn't moving.
Mark moved closer to her and touched her cheek. Her skin was cool.
"I looked all over the neighborhood for hours." Collins said. "I even ran into a few of his bandmates." Collins' voice was thick with disgust, something Mark rarely heard.
Mark looked up at his friend.
"Of course, they wouldn't tell me anything but one of them did say something about Roger's girlfriend running around." Collins glanced back at April. "I went around to almost every club we've been to with him before I finally headed back to the loft. That's where I found the little one."
"The little one?" Mark's mouth twitched at the corners.
Collins smiled at him. "Well, she's the smallest one out of all of us, isn't she? Next to you, at least."
Mark looked back down at April and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face.
"She's the youngest one, too." Mark said quietly.
"She was sleeping on the couch when I walked in." Collins said after a short pause. "It looked like she had just gotten there. But she was beyond exhausted, Mark. I think she's in a state of shock. It's probably best that we let her sleep for awhile, let her mind recover. I tried to wake her up but she seemed lost. Disoriented. I told her to go back to sleep. There was no way she could have made it here on her feet."
Mark looked back at Collins, his eyes wide with amazement.
"God, you carried her all the way here?"
Collins' smile grew bigger.
"I'm not God and we took a cab, Mark." he said, hitting him once on the back. "I may be stronger than you but that's not saying much."
He gestured back at April.
"Throw some more blankets on her, Mark. They're in the closet, second shelf to the right." Collins said. He walked towards the door and Mark glanced up at him.
"Collins, wait." he said, standing up straight. "Where are you..."
"I'm going to take my meds. My pager went off about ten minutes ago." he said, glancing back. "Besides, I don't think you need me to help you take care of her, do you?"
Mark shook his head and Collins closed the door behind him. He turned back to April and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her . Dark blue shadows lined her eyes and her lips were almost as pale as the rest of her face. She looked both old and young; vulnerable and beaten.
His eyes traveled downwards. The bandage across her palm was now dirty and coming loose. Her shirt and jeans looked filthy and her shoes were covered with dark brown dirt.
Mark moved towards them and slipped them off of her feet, dropping them down to the floor and then wiping his hands on his pants.
Dirt, he thought. From the park? Did she go to the park? At this time?
Shit.
She could have gotten raped or mugged or worse.
Mark stood up and walked to the closet. He pulled out a thick looking blanket and spread it out over the bed carefully. He pulled on the edges until it covered her body up to her chest and sat down next to her again.
Her eyes tightened and her mouth pulled down into a grimace. She turned her head to the side and her hands opened and closed.
Mark hesitated and then reached forward and gently moved his hand over her hair.
"Shh, April." he said softly. "It's okay. Shh."
( ... You always wanted someone to take care of, someone to protect, watch over- it's just your nature....)
Maureen's words.
Mark looked down at April and sighed.
For a moment, he thought she had fallen back into unconsciousness when her eyes suddenly fluttered open. His heart leapt into his throat and for a moment, all he could do was stare at her.
"Mark?" she said, sounding confused.
"Yeah, it's me." he said. He bit his lower lip and pulled back his hand from her hair.
She rubbed her eyes and then struggled to prop herself up on her elbows.
"Where am I?" she asked, looking around. "I was at the loft and.. and..."
"Collins found you there." he said, nodding.
He paused.
Suddenly Mark felt awkward and strange. He sat up and averted his eyes from her gaze. His eagerness to see her had disappeared and now he felt uncomfortable in her presence. He suddenly got the feeling that she would be angry at finding herself in Collins' apartment instead of at the loft, waiting for Roger.
"He took you here. To his apartment." Mark said, finally. He stood up and held his breath, expecting a cry of protest. He was sure she was going to stand up to try and fight her way outside.
Instead, she leaned back down on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
"I'm so tired, Mark."
He was instantly worried.
"Go back to sleep, April." he said. "I'll get you a glass of milk. Tea. Something warm. It'll help you sleep."
She waved her hand dismissively and sat up again.
"No. I don't want that." she said quietly. "But I do want to go back to sleep."
"Okay." He moved towards the door. "I'll be outside then, if you..."
"Mark."
He stopped and turned around. She looked at him and Mark thought she looked nervous. Scared.
"Yeah?"
"Don't leave me alone. Please? Not right now." she said softly. She held out her unwounded hand and for a moment, Mark stared at it without understanding, not willing himself to believe.
"Mark, please? Just until I fall asleep?"
He moved towards her silently and took her hand. Her cold, slim fingers pulled him down onto the bed next to her and he shivered when his bare arm brushed against her skin.
She was so cold.
He slid one arm around her waist and she pressed her cheek against his chest. One hand clutched at the sleeve of his shirt and the other one, the one with the cut, she kept pressed firmly against her own chest. He felt her legs move against his and he took a deep breath, trying his best to control his furiously beating heart. For a long time they lay there, quiet and still, and Mark found himself slowly growing comfortably warm.
After awhile, he closed his eyes and tilted his head downward so that his chin was touching the top of her head. He almost raised his hand to take off his glasses but found that he was too tired to move.
And soon, without even meaning to, he fell asleep.
He woke up in darkness and for a moment he panicked, not knowing where he was. He blinked rapidly, moving his eyes around until he found a small source of light.
01:33 A.M.
The red light of Collins' digital clock flashed the time and Mark relaxed. He heard the sound of soft, deep breaths and relaxed even more. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light and shadows, he moved away from the sleeping source of warmth next to him and peered down.
Was it his imagination or had April's cheeks grown slightly pink? Her breathing sounded easy and even, miles away from the ragged cough she had adopted for the past few months.
She was okay. He was okay. Everything was okay.
That's not true! a voice in his mind screamed.
Mark moaned softly as the voice became louder.
Nothing is okay, Mark, and you know it!
Where did April go?
His guilt answered for him.
She went to go find Roger, Mark. She risked her own safety, her own health, her own sanity to find Roger.
And where were you?
Mark closed his eyes and clenched his jaw though it hurt him to do so.
Yes and where were you, Mark? the voice asked maliciously.
Where were you while she was out there getting dirt on her shoes?
And where's Roger, Mark? Did you even spare him one thought while you were sitting here, nice and safe, worrying about his girlfriend?
Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks, dampening the pillow beneath his face.
Why are you still here, Mark?
Why is April sleeping in your arms?
Why?
Why?
Why.
April shifted next to him, uttering a sound of discomfort. Mark looked down and realized that his grip on her had tightened considerably. He forced himself to pull his arm away from her and sat up.
"Please, no." he sobbed, covering his swollen mouth. "P-Please st-st-stop."
You should be out there looking for him, the voice of his guilt went on.
Not in here, not with her.
Mark wiped his face and crept out of the bed as carefully as he could. He bit his tongue, trying to control the rest of the sobs that threatened to come out. He stood on the opposite side of the bed where April lay. With a heavy heart, he took a pillow that had been pushed aside and placed it in her arms; he didn't want her to sleep with nothing to hold. He stared at her for a moment, studying her face.
"I love you, April." he whispered, knowing that she couldn't hear him.
He turned around and opened the door into the livingroom.
Outside, the livingroom was bright and cheerful. Mark looked around, looking for traces of Collins and found a note on the kitchen counter.
Mark,
Stayed over a friend's house for the night. You and April have run of my place until tomorrow.
We'll go to the police station tomorrow and find Roger.
-T.C
PS- Don't leave the apartment!
PPS- Take care of each other.
Mark put the note down and walked towards the couch where he had left the bag of clothes April had brought. He pulled out a sweater and pulled it over the one he wore. He took his scarf and wrapped it tightly around his neck. He pushed up his glasses with his finger and looked back at the bedroom door.
Go now before you change your mind, the voice warned.
He picked up his camera, made sure that there was film in it, and headed out the front door into the cold, cold night.