Disclaimers and summary on first chapter.
Chapter 9 -We Don't Need The World-
+Roger's POV+
In the bathroom he gently, cautiously undresses me, I watch his silent horror and when I catch my own reflection I understand why. All of my ribs are visible, I feel my stomach clench in nausea when I realize I can see them through my back as well. My stomach is sunken in, a hollow. There's a long, deep scar on my side and the backs of my legs and other areas of my body are stained with dried and flaking blood. My arms and legs are bones and flesh, the tracks obvious. I've used some veins so many times the skin has hardly healed. There's one on my left hand that sickens me to look at. Hesitating only slightly, he kisses me gently and then leads me into the shower.
He washes my hair for me, my posture so bad by now it doesn't matter how much taller I am. His hands work the soap into my hair, I can't remember the last time I did it myself. He runs his hands over my body, and I watch the dirt and blood swirling down the drain and hope the last few years will go with it. I lean heavily against him, my body trembling. He holds me close, his hands rubbing my back. I'm grateful that he can't tell I'm crying under the water.
He finds clothes of his that fit me, it's not hard because I'm not much bigger than him, and then he leads me to a couch. He sits and pulls me down next to him. The effort of sitting up is too much for me, so I lay down, resting my head in his lap. He pulls a blanket over my body and rests his hand on my head, stroking my hair. I want to forget everything that's happened, every moment I've been away from him.
"Roger?"
I turn so I'm lying on my back and look up at him. He looks sad.
"Please tell me you're not going to leave again." He says softly.
I shake my head, the room wobbling along with it. I feel sick suddenly.
"No, I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you, Mark." I reach up a hand and touch his face. My fingers trail over his lips and I see his eyes getting wet. How many more tears are we both going to have to go through? He bites his lip and looks away.
"I don't know if we can have that again, Rog. I just, I want it, I know I do and I think you do too, but I don't know if it's possible."
My stomach is turning violently. I have to get to the bathroom soon.
"I do, Mark. I've missed you. I hate what I did, that I left. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that it didn't seem to matter at the time." He still won't look at me. "Please, Mark. Believe me when I say I'm sorry." I laugh softly. "You know I don't apologize."
He smiles slightly and his eyes meet mine. "I know. I do believe you. And I," He takes a breath. "I love you. I've had nothing since you left. Nothing seems to matter, no one seems to matter, life isn't worth it. Pointless." He lowers his eyes again. "Just like before."
My fingers continue to run over his face, again resting on his lips and tracing the perfect lines they form. I admire every contour, the little lines that split them into sections, their perfect soft pink colour. He has the most beautiful mouth and I long to press my lips against his once more. More than almost anything I've missed that freedom. To kiss him, to hold him when we were together. The obvious and expected contact all couples take advantage of. I never thought a thing about it then, but at this moment it means everything because I don't have it.
"Marky, please. . ."
"And now you're here. You're here but you're not you. You're half dead and you're dying anyway. Why? Why did April start using? Why did you? What were you thinking? What happened to all those times in high school you said you didn't understand people who used? You had a far better life living in reality, remember? What happened?"
He's not angry, he whispers all the words.
I sigh, my stomach clenches tightly.
"Me and April, a month or so after we moved out here, we got together. I was so lonely without you and she was the only person around. The only person I knew still cared about me. The city didn't exactly embrace us like we'd always hoped. Everything was different. The people were indifferent, everything was expensive, we had no one to help us. All we had was each other and one night it just happened and then we were a thing."
"Did you love her?"
I shake my head. "I don't know. I loved her as my friend, I still do. But I don't know if I was in love. I don't think I was."
He nods slightly. I watch him for a moment but he doesn't say anything else.
"She got in contact with a couple of friends and she went out with them one night and when she came back she was high. Really high. I was so angry with her." I smile at Mark feebly. "You remember how wild she was."
He nods and returns my smile, though his is sadder.
"Well, she kept doing it. What could I do? I couldn't throw her out, I couldn't leave. And she was always so happy. She told me it took away all the pain. All I ever thought about was how much I missed you, how stupid I had been and how I would never have the balls to face you again. So I did it. And it did help." I close my eyes, remembering. "That first time, the first couple times, were incredible. The world didn't matter, pain didn't matter. . ." I cringe knowing what my next words would be. "You didn't matter."
"When did you find out?"
"I told you, a few months ago. She killed herself. She left me a fucking note. A fucking note that said 'we've got AIDS'. That's it. No apology, no emotion, just 'we've got AIDS'."
The pain in my stomach is unbearable. I struggle to get up and Mark helps me. I gesture toward the bathroom with my hand over my mouth and he quickly leads me there. I fall to my knees in front of the toilet and gag in front of it. There's nothing in there, all I'm throwing up is blood and it hurts and burns my throat. Mark is right beside me, rubbing my back and my shoulders, telling me I'm ok, I'm alright. I wish he'd stop saying that. He should know it's not true. When I finish he cleans my mouth, my face with a little towel. He smiles at me warmly, and I struggle to return it.
"Do you want to eat something? Drink something?" He asks hesitantly.
I nod slightly. "I'll try."
He leads me to the kitchen and pours me some water and holds up a box of Captain Crunch.
"This ok?"
"I guess so."
He pours me a small bowl. "We don't have any milk."
I shrug. "That's ok."
I take a spoonful into my mouth, but the food hurts going down my throat. I quickly wash it down with water, forcing myself to swallow. He's watching me expectantly and I take a few more mouthfuls, but stop after that and push the bowl back toward him. I down the rest of the water and I feel his arms go around me.
"Why can't you eat?"
I sigh. "I haven't eaten anything decent in like, a month, Mark. It hurts. Just let me get used to it again."
He nods and lays his head against my chest.
"Why can't we just be seventeen again? Why does it seem like the world is against us, Roger?"
I laugh softly and wrap my arms around him.
"We don't need the world, Marky."
+++
Notes: Thank you all so much for your reviews. I promise I'll stick another couple of chapters up over the weekend. But right now I've very tired so I shall pick this up later. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
Chapter 9 -We Don't Need The World-
+Roger's POV+
In the bathroom he gently, cautiously undresses me, I watch his silent horror and when I catch my own reflection I understand why. All of my ribs are visible, I feel my stomach clench in nausea when I realize I can see them through my back as well. My stomach is sunken in, a hollow. There's a long, deep scar on my side and the backs of my legs and other areas of my body are stained with dried and flaking blood. My arms and legs are bones and flesh, the tracks obvious. I've used some veins so many times the skin has hardly healed. There's one on my left hand that sickens me to look at. Hesitating only slightly, he kisses me gently and then leads me into the shower.
He washes my hair for me, my posture so bad by now it doesn't matter how much taller I am. His hands work the soap into my hair, I can't remember the last time I did it myself. He runs his hands over my body, and I watch the dirt and blood swirling down the drain and hope the last few years will go with it. I lean heavily against him, my body trembling. He holds me close, his hands rubbing my back. I'm grateful that he can't tell I'm crying under the water.
He finds clothes of his that fit me, it's not hard because I'm not much bigger than him, and then he leads me to a couch. He sits and pulls me down next to him. The effort of sitting up is too much for me, so I lay down, resting my head in his lap. He pulls a blanket over my body and rests his hand on my head, stroking my hair. I want to forget everything that's happened, every moment I've been away from him.
"Roger?"
I turn so I'm lying on my back and look up at him. He looks sad.
"Please tell me you're not going to leave again." He says softly.
I shake my head, the room wobbling along with it. I feel sick suddenly.
"No, I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you, Mark." I reach up a hand and touch his face. My fingers trail over his lips and I see his eyes getting wet. How many more tears are we both going to have to go through? He bites his lip and looks away.
"I don't know if we can have that again, Rog. I just, I want it, I know I do and I think you do too, but I don't know if it's possible."
My stomach is turning violently. I have to get to the bathroom soon.
"I do, Mark. I've missed you. I hate what I did, that I left. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that it didn't seem to matter at the time." He still won't look at me. "Please, Mark. Believe me when I say I'm sorry." I laugh softly. "You know I don't apologize."
He smiles slightly and his eyes meet mine. "I know. I do believe you. And I," He takes a breath. "I love you. I've had nothing since you left. Nothing seems to matter, no one seems to matter, life isn't worth it. Pointless." He lowers his eyes again. "Just like before."
My fingers continue to run over his face, again resting on his lips and tracing the perfect lines they form. I admire every contour, the little lines that split them into sections, their perfect soft pink colour. He has the most beautiful mouth and I long to press my lips against his once more. More than almost anything I've missed that freedom. To kiss him, to hold him when we were together. The obvious and expected contact all couples take advantage of. I never thought a thing about it then, but at this moment it means everything because I don't have it.
"Marky, please. . ."
"And now you're here. You're here but you're not you. You're half dead and you're dying anyway. Why? Why did April start using? Why did you? What were you thinking? What happened to all those times in high school you said you didn't understand people who used? You had a far better life living in reality, remember? What happened?"
He's not angry, he whispers all the words.
I sigh, my stomach clenches tightly.
"Me and April, a month or so after we moved out here, we got together. I was so lonely without you and she was the only person around. The only person I knew still cared about me. The city didn't exactly embrace us like we'd always hoped. Everything was different. The people were indifferent, everything was expensive, we had no one to help us. All we had was each other and one night it just happened and then we were a thing."
"Did you love her?"
I shake my head. "I don't know. I loved her as my friend, I still do. But I don't know if I was in love. I don't think I was."
He nods slightly. I watch him for a moment but he doesn't say anything else.
"She got in contact with a couple of friends and she went out with them one night and when she came back she was high. Really high. I was so angry with her." I smile at Mark feebly. "You remember how wild she was."
He nods and returns my smile, though his is sadder.
"Well, she kept doing it. What could I do? I couldn't throw her out, I couldn't leave. And she was always so happy. She told me it took away all the pain. All I ever thought about was how much I missed you, how stupid I had been and how I would never have the balls to face you again. So I did it. And it did help." I close my eyes, remembering. "That first time, the first couple times, were incredible. The world didn't matter, pain didn't matter. . ." I cringe knowing what my next words would be. "You didn't matter."
"When did you find out?"
"I told you, a few months ago. She killed herself. She left me a fucking note. A fucking note that said 'we've got AIDS'. That's it. No apology, no emotion, just 'we've got AIDS'."
The pain in my stomach is unbearable. I struggle to get up and Mark helps me. I gesture toward the bathroom with my hand over my mouth and he quickly leads me there. I fall to my knees in front of the toilet and gag in front of it. There's nothing in there, all I'm throwing up is blood and it hurts and burns my throat. Mark is right beside me, rubbing my back and my shoulders, telling me I'm ok, I'm alright. I wish he'd stop saying that. He should know it's not true. When I finish he cleans my mouth, my face with a little towel. He smiles at me warmly, and I struggle to return it.
"Do you want to eat something? Drink something?" He asks hesitantly.
I nod slightly. "I'll try."
He leads me to the kitchen and pours me some water and holds up a box of Captain Crunch.
"This ok?"
"I guess so."
He pours me a small bowl. "We don't have any milk."
I shrug. "That's ok."
I take a spoonful into my mouth, but the food hurts going down my throat. I quickly wash it down with water, forcing myself to swallow. He's watching me expectantly and I take a few more mouthfuls, but stop after that and push the bowl back toward him. I down the rest of the water and I feel his arms go around me.
"Why can't you eat?"
I sigh. "I haven't eaten anything decent in like, a month, Mark. It hurts. Just let me get used to it again."
He nods and lays his head against my chest.
"Why can't we just be seventeen again? Why does it seem like the world is against us, Roger?"
I laugh softly and wrap my arms around him.
"We don't need the world, Marky."
+++
Notes: Thank you all so much for your reviews. I promise I'll stick another couple of chapters up over the weekend. But right now I've very tired so I shall pick this up later. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!