Author's Notes: Well, its over. Done. Finished. I'm still pretty numb, actually. This thing was my baby. So...well, reviews would be highly appreciated. I miss AtF already.

Thanks to: Lola, Becca, and Dulcey-three of the most supportive and wonderful people I've had the good fortune to run across. This story introduced me to them and the Rentfic community. You guys rock. For Lauren, for pushing me to move this story forward and see things in the characters that I hadn't noticed before. And for Chris, who unwittingly helped motivate me to finish this and for making me believe. Thank you.

Huge thanks to anyone and everyone who has left a review along the way, especially those (Kelby!) who routinely reviewed. You guys made this journey worthwhile.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowed for nine chapters of pure insanity and angst.

Its been fun, guys. Now, go enjoy what's left of it.


**
After the Fall
Chapter 9
**

Thirty minutes later I'd packed a bag and was on my way to the bus station. Mimi's screams and the crash as her body hit the ground still echoed in my ears on a maddening, terrifying loop. The huge buildings of New York, which I'd always found so comforting, now seemed to be closing in on me. I had to get out. I had no home, no job, no friends. This day had become my worst fears realized. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't know what I was going to do when I got there. But at the moment, all of that was secondary. There were miles of dingy grey sidewalk in front of me, paving a seemingly endless but unavoidable path toward...whatever my destination may be.

I've never hit a woman before. Sure, I'd been in my share of bar fights and that sort of thing, but never girls. That was where you drew the line between the sick, abusive fucks and guys who just got angry when they drank a bit too much. Today I'd crossed that line and there was no going back. I scribbled Mark a note and stuck it on the door. It was as much for Mimi as it was for him. Maybe more. But, really, what do you say? I was still angry with them, but I was more repulsed by my own actions.

I finally arrived at the Greyhound office and walked up to the ticket counter, duffle bag slung over a shoulder and guitar in hand. The girl behind the counter looked up at me disinterestedly and popped her gum.

"Where to?"

"Where's the next bus heading?"

She glanced down at a clipboard sitting in front of her, twisting a greasy piece of hair around her finger. "Nebraska."

My face contorted into a grimace. Ugh. I wasn't quite that desperate. "How about the next one?"

She glanced down again. "Virginia Beach. Leaves in twenty minutes."

That works. "I'll take it." I handed over some cash from my meager stash I'd been saving for the past year. I'd been saving it to take Mimi out of the city for a day or two, ironically enough.

Funny how life works out.


**

An hour of fitful sleep later, I disentangled myself from Mimi's arms and started for the door. I wasn't running away. I just...couldn't stay here. I had to walk, to move, to get out of her stifling apartment and get some air. Anything but sit still and wait for who knows what. She had woken up a couple of times, murmuring my name and nuzzling her nose on my bare chest. I hadn't known what to do. And, truth be told, I was worried about Roger and what he might do.

Halfway up the stairs to the loft, I stopped. Roger was gone. I knew it. I didn't need to look into the empty loft or find some half-thought-out note taped to the door. I knew him well enough to know when he wasn't around. I couldn't feel him anymore. I sighed, looking down at my bare feet. I can't believe I walked up these stairs without shoes. It was like something Roger would do.

Images flooded back to me. Roger, not quite two months ago, after the worst of Mimi's withdrawal. Huge black marks under each eye; bare, dirty feet up in the loft. The vacant gaze as he shifted his entire life's focus from himself and his guitar to Mimi. The look in his eyes as he told me he couldn't stand to watch her hurt any longer. He just couldn't keep up with her. Mimi moved in a different orbit-at a different pace. It was impossible to keep up with her most of the time; all you could hope to do was help her along and be there when she crashed.

Numbly, I walked the rest of the way up to the loft, pulling the piece of yellow legal paper off of the door without a thought and sticking it into the back pocket of my pants. My mind and body felt disconnected. I felt drunk, stumbling through the loft without a thought in my head, going through the motions. I picked up a shirt off of the floor and pulled it on, then grabbed my camera off of the table. Looking up at the skylight, I noticed it was starting to rain, a soft smacking sound on the glass against the black sky. Perfect. I'd go film for a while since Mimi was sleeping, and that way I'd still be close enough to check on her now and then.

As I ran back down the stairs, despite my newfound optimism, I couldn't help but think that the world was about to come crashing down around me.

**

I woke up, stretching experimentally and slowly flexing my arms and legs to make sure everything was still functioning. Sharp, jagged pains shot out all at once from about fifteen places and I moaned miserably. My eyes opened, and immediately I wondered where Mark had gone. He was here with me earlier. Right? Or had I been dreaming?

I couldn't have been. Right?

My entire body felt like one giant, throbbing bruise. It was a good thing I wasn't working at the club anymore, because I would have to take a few weeks off just to heal at this point. Roger had....

I looked over at what was left of my old coffee table, lying in a shattered, splintered heap in the corner and my breath caught in my throat.

Jesus. He could have killed me.
I ran out of my apartment and stepped out into the street, rain pouring down onto me in sheets. My hair turned into a mass of wet, soggy curls and what little makeup I still was wearing began to run down my cheeks. Lovely.

I looked around for Mark, spinning wildly, arms flying everywhere. "Mark!" I could barely hear my own voice over the rain and the traffic.

Cars drove by, splashing through puddles in the road. My bare legs were coated in grimy, oily city water as I ran around the corner, hoping I'd find Mark.

My legs buckled for a minute, and I grabbed onto the brick wall to steady myself. I froze, my mouth gaping open. Leaning up against the building out of the rain, with a foot propped against the wall and a cigarette in his hand, was Mark. I noticed the slight tremor in his hand as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth to take a drag, and the catch in his chest as he exhaled. His other hand ran itself through his sandy blonde hair then dropped heavily to his side. He threw the cigarette to the ground, watching as the downpour put it out.

"Mark?" My voice was one of disbelief, of shock, of relief. He was okay. More importantly, he was still here.

He spun around to face me, eyes wild. "What are you doing out here?"

"I had to see if you were still here."

"Mimi, you know I wouldn't just leave you," he said, scuffing one boot on the sidewalk.

I paused, pursing my lips and still leaning unsteadily on the wall. "Roger's gone."

He nodded, his head dropping to his chest. "I know."

I walked over to him as well as I could and moved to hug him. He'd been through so much in the past few weeks. Both of us had. I couldn't help but think that if we could stay together through this that we would be all right. That everything would work itself out, Roger would come back and be okay with all of this, and that everyone would forgive each other and live happily ever after.

Mark stepped back just out of my reach, bringing his arms up in a clear 'back off' gesture. I looked out at the rain, watching as it soaked everything, trying desperately to clean an irreparably dirty city.

I never was one to believe in fairy tales.

"Fine," I said. "Fine, if that's what you want, Mark."

He sighed, clearly frustrated. "I don't know what I want."

Great. Just fucking great. We go through all of this only to determine that we still don't know what we want. Well, then what in the hell are we doing here? Why are we wasting time and putting ourselves through this if we so clearly don't know what we want?

"Well, I'm sorry about that, Mark," I snapped. "But I do know what I want. I want you. Because I love you, and because you make me happy. But if you're just that uncertain then maybe we shouldn't be-"

"Mimi?"

I looked up at him, irritated. "Yeah?"

He grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him. I gasped, instantly trying to get away as a replay of the past few hours assailed me.

"Let me--!" I broke off, kicking and trying to get out of his grasp.

Mark dropped my arm immediately, his eyes wide and frightened as he backed away from me.

I looked up at him, my gaze full of hurt and fear. I'd never been afraid of anyone before. Not like that. And certainly not of Mark.

"My God, Mark. What did he do to me?"

He took two steps toward me, reaching out and pulling me into a hug. His arms went around me gently, I imagine trying to show me that I would never be trapped with him, that I never had to fear what he might do. I sobbed into his chest.

"His eyes," I choked out amongst sobs. "They were so cold. It was like it wasn't even Roger there. Like someone else had taken over his body for a few seconds."

Mark shook his head, his chin brushing along my hair. "That was Roger, Mimi. Just not a Roger we've seen before. But it was definitely him."


**


I moved my hands to the side of her head, gently cupping her cheeks. My thumbs moved in small circles, brushing away her tears. She lifted her eyes to meet mine-full of desperation and sorrow. They were lacking their usual vivacity and life. It was as if Roger had physically knocked all of the fight out of her. She seemed almost empty, her eyes looking through me with a vacant expression I'd never seen on her before. It scared me, to say the very least.

So, I did the only thing I could think of. I leaned down, softly capturing her lips with my own. There was no passion there. Simply reassurance. Reaffirmation. I wasn't going anywhere and I wanted her to know it.

"I'm here, Meems," I whispered, breaking our kiss. "No matter what happens. We're together."

Her breath caught in a half-sob. I leaned down and pressed my forehead against hers. She finally raised her eyes to mine, her gaze solemn. Her eyes held the first twinge of hope I'd seen in the last ten minutes. "Is that enough?"

I paused. "It will be."

"How do you know?"

I shook my head. "I don't. But I trust it."

The statement hung in the air for several long moments, neither one of us sure what to say next. This entire day had been so surreal.

I finally met her eyes again. Unlike earlier, she held my gaze. I smiled. "Lets go inside, Meems,"


**

We stayed up the entire night, just talking and sitting out on the fire escape, shoulder to shoulder like a couple of old friends. Mimi was wrapped up in a blanket; I'd pulled my knees up to my chest. It had been so long since we'd simply talked. Since that first night out on the fire escape after her fight with Roger, where we'd talked about everything and nothing and wondered why we hadn't done it sooner. Our entire relationship had become some frantic race against time, spending each moment we had wrapped in each other's arms and bodies for fear that this moment might be the last.

We'd forgotten how to be friends.

No matter where we went from here, we had begun with friendship. And that's how it would end.

We'd been so busy embracing no day but today that we'd forgotten how to live. How to simply enjoy the moments. Life was more than a frantic scrambling for human connection. I wished it hadn't taken almost losing everything to come to this conclusion, but what mattered was that we were here now. We were together in every sense of the word.

In the end, the little moments where we'd look at each other and smile knowingly; where I'd walk up behind her and snake my arms around her waist; waking up next to her in the morning and the first thing I my eyes see is her curly hair.... these were the moments that made life what it was. Anyone could exist. We wanted to live.

"Mark, look!" Mimi gasped, pointing out beyond the skyline.

The sky had begun to merge into a swirling mass of yellows, oranges and pinks; the brilliant glow seeped over the tops of the buildings, flooding into the streets and washing over everything in its path.

Sunrise in New York. There wasn't anything quite like it.

I reached for Mimi's hand, still cold, and squeezed it gently, entwining our fingers. She looked over at me and smiled, her eyes lighting up in girlish delight as she glanced from me, to the sky, and back again. She looked so beautiful-so young-the early morning light cast a pink glow over her face. Despite the bruises and cuts-no, with the bruises and cuts-she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. Fragile and scarred and wild and uninhibited and unbelievably strong.

And she was here with me.

It was everything.

**

End 'After the Fall'.

Reviews are better than a brand new box of Kleenex.