Disclaimers and summary on first chapter

Notes: I now use a line of periods to determine breaks in time because apparently the little pluses I was using before don't work anymore. They didn't show up last chappie. Oh well. This chappie starts out morbid, gets happy, then gets morbid again. All in all it's fucking crazy. Thanks for reading/reviewing! ;)

Only one chappie today, sorry! :)

Chapter 55 -There's Going To Be A Day When. . .-

Roger's POV

I run my fingers through his hair, kiss his forehead. His brow furrows and he moves slightly but doesn't wake. I smile to myself. He's really fucking cute when he sleeps. I lay back down next to him, pull his body back against mine. His breath is warm against my chest, the light dim outside, it's really early morning. I kiss him again and close my eyes.

I'd never been in love before him, how could I, I was seventeen. And it's comforting, in a slightly morbid way, to know there won't be anyone after him. I'll die loving him. I won't have to worry about whether or not my life will go on without him because he'll always be there.

But I won't.

I open my eyes and frown down at him. This is so fucking hard. What we had was so God damn perfect, then I fucked it up by leaving him. It's perfect again, it always is with him, but it's going to end eventually. Will there be someone after me?

As much as I want him to be happy, and to find someone else to love, at the same time I'm selfish. I don't want to think about him loving someone else. What if he loves them more? Then I think, that's ridiculous, how could he? But then I'm selfish for denying him that.

He'll ask me eventually, it's inevitable. There's always that conversation. You're dying, can I love again? Give me permission so I won't feel guilty. Tell me it's all right for life to go on cause at this point I don't think it will.

Shit. I can't think about this. I can't handle it. Fine, call me fucking selfish. I love him and he loves me and why can't this fucking last forever?

What if he forgets me?

Stop crying over it. Appreciate it now or you'll regret it later. I blink and touch his face gently. But I don't want to die.

He stirs finally, smiles at me sleepily.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, sitting up, concerned. "You ok, Rog?"

I try to nod but just pull away from him and turn away. I feel his hands on my shoulders and then his lips pressed softly onto my neck. I can't bring myself to push him away.

"What is it?" He asks me in a gentle voice.

I shake my head. "I can't do this, Mark! Knowing there's going to be a day when. . ."

"Don't think about it, Rog. You said you didn't want to think about it. Accept it, know it's going to happen, but stop dwelling on it." He kisses my neck again, wraps his arms around my waist and holds me tightly.

"Yeah," I sniff. "Plenty of time, right?"

I know he smiles. "Plenty of time."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He gets up a few minutes later, but I fall back asleep alone. When he bangs on my door the broken clock that's three hours fast tells me it's 1:23pm, so it's around 10:23am. I groan and try to ignore him but he comes in and pokes me a few times.

"C'mon, Rog. Wake up. It's 10:30."

"Fuck off."

"I love that you're a morning person." He says wryly, sitting on the bed next to me.

"It's one of my best qualities." I mumble into the pillow.

Mark laughs softly. "I hope not. By these standards that would make you a fairly disagreeable person."

When I move my head to tell him off I don't see him, but the familiar camera-face. I push it away.

"Dammit, Mark! Don't film me when I'm just waking up!"

He lowers the camera slightly and smiles shyly at me. "But you look really sexy when you're just waking up."

Resisting the urge to bury my head back beneath the pillow I yawn and sit up slowly. "I'm always really sexy."

"It's nice to know your ego isn't getting the best of you."

"Make me breakfast." I command, yawning again.

He rolls his eyes. "You are perfectly capable of pouring your own damn bowl of cereal. But since I've already done it for you, you have to get out of bed."

"Why don't you just stay here? It's really warm." A third yawn. "And I'm sexy."

"It's hard to say what quality is worse. Your ego, your sex drive or your inability to wake up at a reasonable hour."

"It's 10:30! I've got a few more hours before I'm considered officially lazy."

"You're going to be that anyway. I'll be in the kitchen with Collins whenever you decide to move your sexy ass out of bed."

He kisses my forehead and giving me one last irritated look, he leaves. I flop back onto my back and cross my arms, determined to wait a few more hours, but I get bored quickly and as I'm no longer in the mood for sleep I grudgingly climb out of bed and pull on some pants.

In the kitchen Collins gives me an approving wink over my lack of a shirt. I roll my eyes and grab the bowl I figured Mark set out for me. However, after I take the first spoonful I drop the spoon back in the bowl in disgust.

"It's. . . soggy!" I whine when Mark comes back into the kitchen.

"Not my fault. It wasn't when I poured it for you."

"If you hadn't taken your sweet ass time getting up it would still be fine."

"Oh fuck both of you. How was I supposed to know you were going to put milk in it? We never have milk!" I take another spoonful. "Why do we have milk?"

"Collins donated to our grocery fund." Mark says, grinning at us both.

"Rewiring ATMS again?"

He winks but doesn't say anything.

"We've got a lot of food for a while." Mark says, motioning to the cabinets.

I nod and take another spoonful. Mark wraps his arms around my waist while I'm swallowing. I cough slightly and give him a playful glare.

"Trying to get rid of me?"

Realizing I'm joking he grins at me and lays his hands on my sides, pulling me closer to him.

"And go back to jacking off in the bathroom? Fuck no."

I lean over slightly and kiss him. I almost drop the bowl when his hands move down my back and grab hold of my ass. I set the bowl down and pull him up against me. He lays his head on my chest and I kiss his head and hold him close for a few minutes. I realize Collins isn't in the room anymore, I don't remember seeing him leave.

"I think we scared Collins away." I joke.

"Scared Collins?" He asks, looking up. "How? By being overtly gay?"

"Or overtly us in general." I kiss him again. He smiles, lets his hands run over my bare chest.

"This is a good look for you."

"Every look is a good look for me."

He snorts. "I doubt it. Somehow I don't think you're going to look too hot in a mini skirt."

"But I've got such great legs!"

"You've got great everything, but I don't think a mini skirt, or any skirt really, would properly accentuate your features."

"Stick to the tight pants is what you're saying."

He laughs. "Well, yeah. Of course."

The phone rings. We both turn to stare at it.

"Speak."

"Roger?" Small, timid cough. "Um, Roger are you there? It's. . ."

I move away from Mark and pick it up before she says anymore.

"Mimi?"

I see Mark sullenly shove his hands in his pockets and back away.

"Roger? Hey," That same little cough. "Um, how are you?" She asks, her voice weak and soft.

"Fine. No, good. I'm good. Are you. . . ok?" I ask her quietly, crossing my fingers on the hand that hangs down at my side.

"Well," Cough, swallow. "Well, not really." She's silent for an awkward moment. "Can you spare a day, or two?"

A day or two? Holy fuck. This is not it. It can't be happening.

"For what, little girl?" I ask her gently, trying to play dumb. Please no.

"I'm not doing so," Cough, painful little gasp of a swallow this time. "So, well."

I close my eyes. "Are you in the hospital?"

I hear her quiet yes and I know this is it. I know. Shit. I want to throw the phone down, back away and forget it. Someone takes the phone from her and talks mostly in Spanish. I catch a couple of English words, enough to figure where the hospital is, and then she hangs up. Carefully I set down the phone, pull myself up on the table and sit there staring at it.

Mimi's dying.

In a few days Mimi is going to be dead.

And in a few years? Months? So will I.

I hear Mark come back in the room. He sets his camera down on the table next to me. I sense the Mimi-presence he gets whenever I talk about her. He doesn't know about my promise to her.

"What did she want?" He asks as nicely as he can.

"She wants me to go visit her. In the hospital." I stare at the phone, still.

"Oh."

Is that all you can say? My Mimi is dying! I close my eyes and clench my fists at my sides.

"I have to go see her Mark. I promised her. I promised her if she called I'd go see her."

"If you have to."

"I do!" I don't mean to yell.

"Whatever, Roger." He says quietly, picking up his camera again and leaving. I get up and go to my guitar case, pull out the last bit of money my mother shoved in there without my knowledge, despite our refusal to take any, and go to the phone to call a cab. When I hang up I find Mark in our room.

"Do you want to come with me?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. "I don't think I should."

"I'd like you to." I say reluctantly.

He looks over at me and I bite my lip and look away.

"Please, Marky. If she's going to. . ." I can't say it. "Well, I want someone else there."

He gives me the most pitiful look, like he's the one most pained by this, but nods.

"Alright, Roger. I'll go with you."

Waiting outside for the cab I feel my eyes being weighed down by tears threatening to fall. I wipe at my eyes frantically and try to avoid Mark's glances in my direction. I hear him sigh and feel his arm go around my shoulders.

"It's alright, Rog. It's gonna be ok."

The cab pulls up outside our building. Mimi's dying. And in a few years? Months? I will be too.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Notes Continued: This is a pretty depressing chapter, isn't it? I wasn't really planning on bringing Mimi back, but I need something for filler while I wrap up the high school chappies and it sort of helps with Roger's fear of death now. So it all works in the end, promise. ha. Well I try. ;) thanks for reading/reviewing! You guys rule!