Disclaimers and summary on first chapter
Notes: I just reread the last chapter, sorry for the bitchy tone in the notes. Tired, you know? I suppose it wasn't so bad after all, and thank you to the three who reviewed 26 and told me so, you guys rule. Thanks to all other reviewers and readers as well!
Chapter 27 -I'm Bad For You-
+Roger's POV+ -two weeks later-
I feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness. My whole body is sore, my arms so scarred and the veins so worn out I've started using veins in my legs and feet if I can find them. Not really very safe, from what I remember April telling me, but useful if you wanted scars you could hide. She used to do it, before she got really bad.
I'm slipping back into my drug-induced stupor. I remember Mark vaguely, but all he is to me now is a memory. I'm sure that's probably all he's going to be, too.
Something hard collides with my stomach and I gasp and clutch at it, opening my eyes and looking about frantically. I roll onto my back and stare up at one of Mark's roommates, don't remember his name, the sort of nice one.
"Thought that was you." He says, a touch of sympathy in his voice despite the fact that he just kicked me in the stomach. I don't say anything, but watch him.
He sighs and gets down on one knee beside me.
"What happened?" He asks. "I thought you were going to give it up."
I nod slowly, but the motion still makes my head swim and throb. "I did. I tried." I choke out. I feel my eyes welling up at the thought of Mark's anger. "I couldn't do it, I can't. I'm not strong enough."
He shakes his head, but not necessarily in disapproval.
"What started it again?"
"There was a bag in my guitar case, I found some there."
"And you. . ."
"No." I say, struggling to sit up. He reaches out and helps me till I'm leaning against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me.
"I left it there. I wanted to tell Mark, but I was afraid of what he'd think."
Again he shakes his head. "You should have told him, Roger. He would have been glad you told him."
I shrug as best I can, and wince at the motion.
"Doesn't matter. I bought some a week later, right when I walked out."
He narrows his eyes. "Yeah, I wondered where my money had gone."
I lower my eyes.
"I understand why you did it, but that doesn't matter it any less wrong."
I look back up at him. "I can't do this anymore. I can't sleep on the street, living between hits, knowing he hates me."
His expression is almost gentle. "He doesn't hate you, but I won't lie, he's pretty pissed. But he's worried." He sighs. "We've been looking for you for over a week. Mark feels bad for kicking you out."
"You don't want me there."
"Not if you're a junkie I don't." He sighs again. "But you've tried to get clean, and you were for awhile. That's more than I can say for any other junkies I've known. And I saw what you went through for that." He looks into my eyes.
"If you promise you're going to stop, really stop this time, I'll bring you back to him." He narrows his eyes. "But if you hurt him again I won't let him take you back."
He stands up and holds out a hand. Weakly I reach for it and he helps me up. He holds me at arm's length, examining me.
"You look like shit." He says, half amused, half concerned. I groan and start to fall. Laughing nervously he catches me and bends to put his arm under my legs and picks me up. It's possible I could walk on my own, but I'm not prepared to try so I'm actually glad for his help. I go limp in his arms and close my eyes when my head falls against his chest.
+++
I'm woken by his voice.
"Mark? Mark, open the door." He kicks the door a couple times.
A minute or so later the door opens and I open my eyes slowly. I hear Mark gasp as he reaches out to me.
"Roger?" He looks up at him. "Collins, you found him?"
"Yeah, found him in an alley a few blocks from here. Where's your shirt?" He asks, laying me on the couch. I notice for the first time his half-dressed state. Mark blushes profusely and won't look at me.
"I just, got hot and. . ."
"Marky? Is everything ok?" I hear Maureen's voice coming from his bedroom and she emerges, her hair tousled, in the same state of dress as Mark, save for the bra. I look from one to the other and especially at Mark's red, ashamed face. I sink into the couch, understanding. Collins shakes his head, in disapproval or shock I don't know, and goes into his own room, closing the door.
"Oh, he's back." Says Maureen, looking at me, pained. I try to move myself, to stand. Mark hurries over to me.
"Roger. . ."
"Where'd he go? Collins!" I yell. "Take me back, I don't want to be here!" I look over at Maureen as Mark grabs my arms to force me to lie back down. "Sorry I interrupted." I say coldly. Mark tightens his grip on my wrists and I cry out in pain.
"What's wrong, what?" He asks, concerned.
"You're hurting me, Mark! Stop!"
He lets go immediately, both of us fairly shocked at my growing weakness. He kneels beside the couch and wraps his arms around me. I see Maureen standing alone near the bedroom door, twisting her hair around her finger. When her gaze meets mine her lower lip trembles and she hurries into the room and closes the door. Mark pulls back and kisses my forehead.
"I love you, Roger. I'm sorry. I feel like such an ass." He wraps his arms around me again. "I'm sorry." He whispers.
I hate having him think that it's his fault, that he's the jerk. I push him away, or at least give him a clue that I want him to let go.
"It's not your fault, Mark." I croak, my throat aching. I don't remember the last time I had something to drink. "I bought it, I did it. . ."
"But you were trying, Rog. I knew how hard it was for you and I didn't even give you a chance. You told me how bad the cravings could get. And I. . ."
"Are you and Maureen. . . together?"
He pulls away from me, shocked, but I see it in his eyes. He's ashamed, embarrassed and guilty. He shakes his head though.
"It was just. . . I don't know, Rog. I was sitting here upset that I didn't know where you were and that it was my fault if you were hurt or dead and she just put her arms around me and kissed me."
I cringe and look away.
"Roger, I love you. Please know I love you." He begs.
I move away from him. "You should be with her, I'm bad for you. I don't know if I can stop, Mark. I really don't."
"Of course you can! And you're good for me, you're the best. You're perfect."
I shake my head. "I'm so fucked up. I'm not the same person I was, Mark. I can't just pick up where we left off in high school because that's not me anymore."
He watches me with wide eyes. "What are you saying, Rog?"
I meet his gaze, feeling my eyes growing wet. "I can't do that, Mark. I really can't. I don't want to hurt you anymore and the only way I know how to avoid that is by not being with you. If I'm not here, I can't hurt you."
He shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that, Rog. You left me for New York and you weren't there and it hurt plenty." He reaches for my hand and I let him take it. "I don't want this Roger, we can't just stop now." His eyes are pleading but I shake my head.
"No, Mark. This is the only decent thing I've done in my life. Let go of me, I need to leave." I start to move but find it very painful.
"No!" He reaches out and pushes my chest back. He blinks a few times. "At least stay here. Will you do that for me? Please? I can't know you're out there alone. I want to know you're safe."
It sounds like a good idea at the time, considering how much my head hurts. I lay back down. Mark stands up and leaves for moment. He comes back with a glass of water that I grab for eagerly, forgetting the pain and soreness in my joints and body. I spill some of it drinking in my haste. Mark laughs sadly and looks down at the floor. He gets up again and this time comes back with a blanket. He takes off my shoes and then lays it over my body.
"Get some sleep, ok? We can talk more tomorrow I guess." He says sadly.
I nod, already half asleep.
+++
"Roger?"
I open my eyes, irritated.
"What?"
It's Maureen, sitting on the ground next to the couch, in a tiny pair of shorts and a little t-shirt. She's twirling her hair again, her eyes wide and sad. She looks down at the ground.
"I'm sorry, Roger. That me and Mark. . ."
"It's ok. Me and Mark aren't 'me and Mark' anymore."
Her head snaps up. "Not over that! We didn't even do anything! And it's not his fault, I kissed him."
I shake my head. "It's because of me. Because I'm an idiot. Because I fucked everything up."
"Oh." She looks down again.
"How long have you liked him?" I ask her.
"High school." She says softly. "I thought we were just better off as friends at first, but then I got so jealous of you. But he was so happy, I couldn't think of saying anything. And once you were gone he was too depressed to really care either way. I've just never had a chance to tell him. And I wasn't sure if it would make sense anyway, or even if he'd accept me like that."
I stare at the ceiling. "You can have him now. Take care of him, Mo." I look over at her and she looks up in my eyes. "But if you hurt him, I swear I'll kill you."
She smiles wryly. "I don't need your permission, Roger. But won't it be hard for you?"
I close my eyes. "Yes. But if I can just think that he's happy, I won't care. Please though, don't make it any harder for me that it will be."
"You mean don't blatantly make out in front of you."
I cringe. "Maybe I should leave."
She's silent for a moment. "Did you ever consider like, real rehab? It might make it easier for you to get off of it. And if me and Mark. . . you know, you wouldn't be here."
I consider it for a moment. "I don't have any money."
She bites her lip. "I know this place, it's pretty cheap. And I work, so. . ."
I stare at her. "Maureen, you can't. . ."
"Mark wants you clean, he wants you healthy. I love him, I want him to be happy."
"How long till you start being selfish again?" I ask her.
She sneers. "Fuck you, Roger. I'm trying to help. Why do you hate me so much?"
I roll my eyes. "Oh fuck off, Maureen. You were the one who was jealous of me, remember?"
"Not of you, asshole, of what you had with Mark. I don't know what the hell he sees in you."
I shake my head. "Me neither."
Her expression softens. "I'm sorry, Roger." She says quietly. "Sorry that you and Mark can't. . . you know. I really am." She starts to leave but turns around and looks back at me one more time.
"But I meant it. Think about rehab. I can at least help, and I want to. It might be good for you."
I watch her go in her and Mark's room and close the door. I feel sick already. I wish Mark was here now. I close my eyes and try to sleep, distracted the whole night by the pain. The pain of no longer having Mark overpowering my need for heroin.
+++
Notes Continued: Don't worry, this is going to continue. What I'm going to do is continue this through RENT, which means Mimi will be in it for awhile and there will be a lot of drastic jumps in time. It might even go with Roger to Santa Fe. Then there will be more that happens after RENT. So all my fellow M/R fanatics: fear not, there is more to come.
Notes: I just reread the last chapter, sorry for the bitchy tone in the notes. Tired, you know? I suppose it wasn't so bad after all, and thank you to the three who reviewed 26 and told me so, you guys rule. Thanks to all other reviewers and readers as well!
Chapter 27 -I'm Bad For You-
+Roger's POV+ -two weeks later-
I feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness. My whole body is sore, my arms so scarred and the veins so worn out I've started using veins in my legs and feet if I can find them. Not really very safe, from what I remember April telling me, but useful if you wanted scars you could hide. She used to do it, before she got really bad.
I'm slipping back into my drug-induced stupor. I remember Mark vaguely, but all he is to me now is a memory. I'm sure that's probably all he's going to be, too.
Something hard collides with my stomach and I gasp and clutch at it, opening my eyes and looking about frantically. I roll onto my back and stare up at one of Mark's roommates, don't remember his name, the sort of nice one.
"Thought that was you." He says, a touch of sympathy in his voice despite the fact that he just kicked me in the stomach. I don't say anything, but watch him.
He sighs and gets down on one knee beside me.
"What happened?" He asks. "I thought you were going to give it up."
I nod slowly, but the motion still makes my head swim and throb. "I did. I tried." I choke out. I feel my eyes welling up at the thought of Mark's anger. "I couldn't do it, I can't. I'm not strong enough."
He shakes his head, but not necessarily in disapproval.
"What started it again?"
"There was a bag in my guitar case, I found some there."
"And you. . ."
"No." I say, struggling to sit up. He reaches out and helps me till I'm leaning against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me.
"I left it there. I wanted to tell Mark, but I was afraid of what he'd think."
Again he shakes his head. "You should have told him, Roger. He would have been glad you told him."
I shrug as best I can, and wince at the motion.
"Doesn't matter. I bought some a week later, right when I walked out."
He narrows his eyes. "Yeah, I wondered where my money had gone."
I lower my eyes.
"I understand why you did it, but that doesn't matter it any less wrong."
I look back up at him. "I can't do this anymore. I can't sleep on the street, living between hits, knowing he hates me."
His expression is almost gentle. "He doesn't hate you, but I won't lie, he's pretty pissed. But he's worried." He sighs. "We've been looking for you for over a week. Mark feels bad for kicking you out."
"You don't want me there."
"Not if you're a junkie I don't." He sighs again. "But you've tried to get clean, and you were for awhile. That's more than I can say for any other junkies I've known. And I saw what you went through for that." He looks into my eyes.
"If you promise you're going to stop, really stop this time, I'll bring you back to him." He narrows his eyes. "But if you hurt him again I won't let him take you back."
He stands up and holds out a hand. Weakly I reach for it and he helps me up. He holds me at arm's length, examining me.
"You look like shit." He says, half amused, half concerned. I groan and start to fall. Laughing nervously he catches me and bends to put his arm under my legs and picks me up. It's possible I could walk on my own, but I'm not prepared to try so I'm actually glad for his help. I go limp in his arms and close my eyes when my head falls against his chest.
+++
I'm woken by his voice.
"Mark? Mark, open the door." He kicks the door a couple times.
A minute or so later the door opens and I open my eyes slowly. I hear Mark gasp as he reaches out to me.
"Roger?" He looks up at him. "Collins, you found him?"
"Yeah, found him in an alley a few blocks from here. Where's your shirt?" He asks, laying me on the couch. I notice for the first time his half-dressed state. Mark blushes profusely and won't look at me.
"I just, got hot and. . ."
"Marky? Is everything ok?" I hear Maureen's voice coming from his bedroom and she emerges, her hair tousled, in the same state of dress as Mark, save for the bra. I look from one to the other and especially at Mark's red, ashamed face. I sink into the couch, understanding. Collins shakes his head, in disapproval or shock I don't know, and goes into his own room, closing the door.
"Oh, he's back." Says Maureen, looking at me, pained. I try to move myself, to stand. Mark hurries over to me.
"Roger. . ."
"Where'd he go? Collins!" I yell. "Take me back, I don't want to be here!" I look over at Maureen as Mark grabs my arms to force me to lie back down. "Sorry I interrupted." I say coldly. Mark tightens his grip on my wrists and I cry out in pain.
"What's wrong, what?" He asks, concerned.
"You're hurting me, Mark! Stop!"
He lets go immediately, both of us fairly shocked at my growing weakness. He kneels beside the couch and wraps his arms around me. I see Maureen standing alone near the bedroom door, twisting her hair around her finger. When her gaze meets mine her lower lip trembles and she hurries into the room and closes the door. Mark pulls back and kisses my forehead.
"I love you, Roger. I'm sorry. I feel like such an ass." He wraps his arms around me again. "I'm sorry." He whispers.
I hate having him think that it's his fault, that he's the jerk. I push him away, or at least give him a clue that I want him to let go.
"It's not your fault, Mark." I croak, my throat aching. I don't remember the last time I had something to drink. "I bought it, I did it. . ."
"But you were trying, Rog. I knew how hard it was for you and I didn't even give you a chance. You told me how bad the cravings could get. And I. . ."
"Are you and Maureen. . . together?"
He pulls away from me, shocked, but I see it in his eyes. He's ashamed, embarrassed and guilty. He shakes his head though.
"It was just. . . I don't know, Rog. I was sitting here upset that I didn't know where you were and that it was my fault if you were hurt or dead and she just put her arms around me and kissed me."
I cringe and look away.
"Roger, I love you. Please know I love you." He begs.
I move away from him. "You should be with her, I'm bad for you. I don't know if I can stop, Mark. I really don't."
"Of course you can! And you're good for me, you're the best. You're perfect."
I shake my head. "I'm so fucked up. I'm not the same person I was, Mark. I can't just pick up where we left off in high school because that's not me anymore."
He watches me with wide eyes. "What are you saying, Rog?"
I meet his gaze, feeling my eyes growing wet. "I can't do that, Mark. I really can't. I don't want to hurt you anymore and the only way I know how to avoid that is by not being with you. If I'm not here, I can't hurt you."
He shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that, Rog. You left me for New York and you weren't there and it hurt plenty." He reaches for my hand and I let him take it. "I don't want this Roger, we can't just stop now." His eyes are pleading but I shake my head.
"No, Mark. This is the only decent thing I've done in my life. Let go of me, I need to leave." I start to move but find it very painful.
"No!" He reaches out and pushes my chest back. He blinks a few times. "At least stay here. Will you do that for me? Please? I can't know you're out there alone. I want to know you're safe."
It sounds like a good idea at the time, considering how much my head hurts. I lay back down. Mark stands up and leaves for moment. He comes back with a glass of water that I grab for eagerly, forgetting the pain and soreness in my joints and body. I spill some of it drinking in my haste. Mark laughs sadly and looks down at the floor. He gets up again and this time comes back with a blanket. He takes off my shoes and then lays it over my body.
"Get some sleep, ok? We can talk more tomorrow I guess." He says sadly.
I nod, already half asleep.
+++
"Roger?"
I open my eyes, irritated.
"What?"
It's Maureen, sitting on the ground next to the couch, in a tiny pair of shorts and a little t-shirt. She's twirling her hair again, her eyes wide and sad. She looks down at the ground.
"I'm sorry, Roger. That me and Mark. . ."
"It's ok. Me and Mark aren't 'me and Mark' anymore."
Her head snaps up. "Not over that! We didn't even do anything! And it's not his fault, I kissed him."
I shake my head. "It's because of me. Because I'm an idiot. Because I fucked everything up."
"Oh." She looks down again.
"How long have you liked him?" I ask her.
"High school." She says softly. "I thought we were just better off as friends at first, but then I got so jealous of you. But he was so happy, I couldn't think of saying anything. And once you were gone he was too depressed to really care either way. I've just never had a chance to tell him. And I wasn't sure if it would make sense anyway, or even if he'd accept me like that."
I stare at the ceiling. "You can have him now. Take care of him, Mo." I look over at her and she looks up in my eyes. "But if you hurt him, I swear I'll kill you."
She smiles wryly. "I don't need your permission, Roger. But won't it be hard for you?"
I close my eyes. "Yes. But if I can just think that he's happy, I won't care. Please though, don't make it any harder for me that it will be."
"You mean don't blatantly make out in front of you."
I cringe. "Maybe I should leave."
She's silent for a moment. "Did you ever consider like, real rehab? It might make it easier for you to get off of it. And if me and Mark. . . you know, you wouldn't be here."
I consider it for a moment. "I don't have any money."
She bites her lip. "I know this place, it's pretty cheap. And I work, so. . ."
I stare at her. "Maureen, you can't. . ."
"Mark wants you clean, he wants you healthy. I love him, I want him to be happy."
"How long till you start being selfish again?" I ask her.
She sneers. "Fuck you, Roger. I'm trying to help. Why do you hate me so much?"
I roll my eyes. "Oh fuck off, Maureen. You were the one who was jealous of me, remember?"
"Not of you, asshole, of what you had with Mark. I don't know what the hell he sees in you."
I shake my head. "Me neither."
Her expression softens. "I'm sorry, Roger." She says quietly. "Sorry that you and Mark can't. . . you know. I really am." She starts to leave but turns around and looks back at me one more time.
"But I meant it. Think about rehab. I can at least help, and I want to. It might be good for you."
I watch her go in her and Mark's room and close the door. I feel sick already. I wish Mark was here now. I close my eyes and try to sleep, distracted the whole night by the pain. The pain of no longer having Mark overpowering my need for heroin.
+++
Notes Continued: Don't worry, this is going to continue. What I'm going to do is continue this through RENT, which means Mimi will be in it for awhile and there will be a lot of drastic jumps in time. It might even go with Roger to Santa Fe. Then there will be more that happens after RENT. So all my fellow M/R fanatics: fear not, there is more to come.