Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, guys. I was just wondering if people were reading.

CHAPTER 22

Collins knocked gently on Roger's bedroom door, holding a bowl of soup in his free hand.

"Rog? Are you hungry for some lunch?"

He heard Roger plucking out random notes on his guitar from inside and asked again, louder this time.

"Roger? Do you want something to eat?"

Thud. Roger had thrown something at the door.

"Is that a no?" he asked meekly.

"No!" Roger yelled angrily in response. Collins took a step back and shook his head. He knew people got angry and bad tempered when they were going through withdrawal, but he didn't realize that it would hit Roger so hard already. He had been yelling all night about how Benny was snoring, and had even threatened to strangle him in his sleep. Needless to say, Benny, who was scared out of his mind, slept with one eye open that night.

Collins placed the bowl of soup on the island and listened to the muffled tune of a song coming from inside Roger's bedroom. He hadn't heard it before, it must be a new one. Collins walked over to his bedroom and stood in the doorway, looking at the empty void that once served as his sanctuary. He had managed to pack up most of his belongings in a couple suitcases and a duffel bag, but had left the large pieces of furniture and a couple knickknacks that he had no use for at MIT.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. He was still unsure about leaving New York University for MIT. He knew that it was an amazing opportunity and that it was the chance of a lifetime, but he was worried about leaving New York City, where he had lived for as long as he could remember, to pursue his career. It was important to him, but his friends and family were more so. Of course, he would keep in touch with them through phone calls and letters, but it wasn't the same as being there for them. Of course, he would meet people once he got to MIT. He'd make new friends and he wouldn't be alone, that was sure.

Collins was broken out of his trance-like state when he heard Benny knocking on the door.

"Earth to Collins," he laughed, sitting down next to his friend.

"What's up?"

Benny shrugged. "Just wanted to see what was going on." He glanced around the room. "You're all packed?"

"Yeah," Collins replied quietly, looking down at his feet.

"I'm gonna miss you," he laughed. "You're like a father to me. Except a lot more fun. And not married to my mother."

Collins smiled at this. "Yeah. I'll miss you guys, too, but I mean I'll call and I'll visit. It's not like I'm falling off the face of the earth or something."

"I know. It's just like the end to an era." Benny stared out the door into the kitchen.

"Maybe. I'm still going to be around. Just further away. I'll come here for visits, too, and I'll call. Everything will work out." Collins found he was trying to convince himself more than Benny. He noticed his friend's far-off gaze. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, oh yeah," Benny shrugged. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff? Mimi stuff?"

"How'd you know?" he smirked. "Yeah. I'm just confused about everything. I think I miss her."

"You think?" Collins asked, laughing a bit. Benny shoved him in the shoulder and nodded. He leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the white ceiling.

"I can't stop thinking about her sometimes, and I feel guilty for doing that to her. She was pretty mad when she left before."

"Call her."

"What?"

"Call her. Call her up and tell her that you want to try again." Benny looked skeptical. "What's the worst that could happen? She'll say no and you'll both get over it." Collins wanted to help him. He wanted Benny to find love if he could. He didn't want him to be alone.

"I don't know if I can do that…"

"Well, do what you feel is best. But if I were you I'd seize the moment and tell her how I feel."

"Oh…" Benny trailed off, his eyes drifting over to the empty dresser.

"Hey, do you want to go grab some Chinese food or something? I really want some spring rolls."

"Sure," Benny nodded. "I have nothing else to do, anyway." He didn't have any work to do since he only had a small job at the law firm. He was just an assistant or 'gopher' of sorts. It wasn't challenging, but he wanted some experience before moving on to bigger things. He had run into Mr. Grey, the group's landlord a few months ago in the hallway of their building. That was a rare occurrence since he owned several buildings and this one was without a doubt on the bottom of his list of priorities. Benny had stopped him to ask about the loft's faulty heating, and through a long conversation he had told Benny about his needing some help. He had basically offered a job to Benny there on the spot, but he wasn't sure if that's what he wanted to get into. He told Mr. Grey that he would get back to him, but he hadn't yet.

Collins and Benny went back out into the living room, and as Collins put his coat and scarf on, Benny walked over to Roger's bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Rog, we're gonna go pick up some takeout. Do you want us to bring you any home?"

Roger grunted.

"Is that a yes?"

Gentle guitar strumming from inside his bedroom.

"Okay, well we're gonna go. We'll be back in a bit, I guess."

Thud.

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Roger leaned back onto the headboard, his guitar in his lap. He waited until he heard Benny shut the door and pushed his Fender off of him. He wished everybody would go away. No, he didn't want food. He wanted to be left alone.

He picked Lola up and placed 'her' gently on the floor. He stretched out over the covers and placed his hands behind his head. The pang of sadness that had been pulling at him for the last little while returned with full force, and he had no choice but to let his mind drift into thoughts of April until he fell asleep.

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Mark pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Maureen and she plopped down in it, Mark sitting down next to her.

"Where's your mom?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It's almost lunch, though, so she'll probably be home soon. She won't want us to go hungry."

"Oh," Maureen sighed. "That was a good sleep." She leaned into Mark.

"Yeah," Mark replied, rubbing her back slowly. "You want something to eat?" he asked her as he stood up and moved over to the refrigerator. He pulled it open and looked over at Maureen who was shaking her head.

"No thanks," they said in unison. Maureen looked up to Mark and stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're never hungry," he replied, pulling milk out of the fridge. He proceeded to search through cupboards for some cereal that wasn't bran-based. Maureen shrugged and laced her fingers together on top of the table.

"Oh well."

"Like, not for anything. I don't think I've even seen you eat in the last week."

"Why do you care?" she asked. "I'm obviously fine."

"Maybe. It's still weird."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "Now I'm weird?"

"I didn't say that—" Mark started.

"Fine! God, it's not like it's even any of your business in the first place!"

"Of course it's my business!" Mark shot back, putting his bowl of cereal on the table.

"Just shut up, okay?" she yelled a little too loudly. She immediately quieted down, buy still spoke harshly. "Why are we even talking about this? It doesn't matter," she told him as she rubbed her temples with her hand.

Mark gave a half-hearted shrug and started in on his cereal. Maureen watched him dismiss the topic and rolled her eyes.

They sat like that for several minutes in silence as Mark ate his breakfast and Maureen tapped her fingernails along the tabletop, making sure she looked both bored and mad. Mark eventually got up to rinse out his bowl and place it in the dishwasher.

"Gramma! Hug!"

Both Maureen and Mark looked up when they heard the front door open and a small voice yell. Maureen looked over to Mark at the counter with questioning eyes and he shook his head.

"Cindy," he said to himself, deadpan as he turned off the taps. "Leave it to her to make this a big affair."

Cathy pattered into the kitchen, clad in a red plaid jumper with a white blouse on underneath. Her blonde hair was gathered into a ponytail at the back of her head held together by red baubles. When she saw Mark and Maureen, she took a small step away from them and retreated back by the door frame, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

"Cathy," Mark sighed, putting his bowl in the dishwasher. "Why don't you like me?"

Maureen laughed and stood up, scooping Cathy off the ground.

"Hi, sweetie," she grinned. "You're pretty!"

Cathy still looked unsure, but relaxed a bit in Maureen's arms. Cindy appeared in the doorway grinning stupidly at Mark.

"Hi Marky. You must be Maureen. I'm Cindy, his sister."

"Hey," Maureen greeted her, smiling. "I believe this is yours?" She passed Cathy to her mother and sat back down at the table. Mark sat adjacent from her and Cindy beside him with Cathy on her lap.

"Where're Mike and Jamie?" Mark asked as he watched Cathy glance suspiciously at him.

"Michael took Jamie to swimming at the community centre. That kid is a fish, I swear. Where did mom and dad go?"

Mark shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. "How are you and the fetus?"

"Idiot," Cindy scoffed, struggling to pull Cathy's hands out of her hair.

"Can I hold her?" Maureen asked. "She's so cute."

"Not when she's crying and pooping herself silly," she laughed, passing the toddler carefully over the table. Maureen placed Cathy on her lap and bounced her on her knee, holding her gently.

"We're all right, though," Cindy continued, keeping an eye on Cathy as she blathered in baby-talk. "My morning sickness isn't as bad as when I had those two. It's still uncomfortable, I guess."

"Oh," Mark replied, obviously uninterested. He placed his hands on the wooden tabletop and pushed his chair back. "I'm going to go and get changed," he told them, leaving the kitchen quickly. Cindy's eyes followed him as he left the room.

"Is he okay?" she asked Maureen. She looked up from Cathy and nodded.

"Probably."

"What do you mean?" she asked, getting up from her seat and poking through the refrigerator for something to drink.

"Oh, you know men," Maureen laughed, playing with Cathy's hair.

"I hear you," Cindy sympathized, pulling a jug of orange juice out of the fridge and pouring herself a glass. "Do you want any?"

"Sure," Maureen nodded. "Thanks."

Cindy handed her a glass and sat back down.

"So, Maureen, tell me about yourself," she smiled, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Well, I grew up in Hicksville," she wrinkled her nose. "I'm twenty-two, and actually I'm playing Cecily in The Importance of Being Earnest right now."

"Oh, wow," Cindy smiled. "That sounds like a lot of fun!"

The women continued to chat, eventually joined again by Mark. He suggested that Maureen go and get changed, too, since their rental car had to be back in the city by five. She did, and the four moved into the basement family room where Cindy suggested watching old home videos.

"No…" Mark whined, laughing.

"Yeah!" Maureen exclaimed, "Come on, Pookie!" she laughed, tackling him on the L-shaped couch.

"Yeah, Pookie, come on!" Cindy mocked him, sliding a tape into the VCR.

"Pookie!" Cathy giggled loudly from the floor. She picked up her doll and shook it up and down. "Pookie!"

"Now look what you've done," Mark jokingly scolded Maureen. She stuck her tongue out at him and rested her head on his shoulder. Sitting down on the couch, Cindy pressed 'play' on the remote control. Cathy crawled up onto the couch and forced her way between Cindy and Maureen, carefully placing her doll in her lap and latching onto Maureen's arm with her pudgy fingers.

"She's so cute," Maureen whispered to Mark. He draped his arm around her shoulders and laughed, shaking his head.

"Shut up," he whispered, pointing to the television screen. "You're missing my first steps." Mark watched Maureen and she turned her attention back to the video and kissed the top of her head.

Several home movies later, Cathy was asleep, leaning against Maureen and holding Cindy's hand. Cindy flipped off the video and muted the television, then picked Cathy up carefully.

"I'm going to go put her upstairs," she whispered. Mark and Maureen nodded as Cindy walked up the stairs, Cathy stirring slightly and whining.

"You okay?" Mark asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Maureen nodded and looked over at him.

"Yeah. I like your family," she smiled.

"You haven't met my mother yet," Mark laughed.

Maureen shrugged. "I'll like her," more than mine.

Cindy came down the stairs and plopped back down on the couch quickly, flipping the tape back on.

"I just sat the Toilet pull in. She won't make us help with groceries or whatever if we're watching home videos."

"The Toilet?" Maureen asked, confused.

"Nah, she'll probably get all caught up in it and start to cry," Mark laughed.

"Exactly," Cindy replied, putting her feet up on the coffee table. They heard the front door open and Mr. and Mrs. Cohen's voices float into the basement from upstairs.

"Mark?" Mrs. Cohen called.

"Down here!" he called back, removing his arm from Maureen's shoulders. Mrs. Cohen came down the stairs quickly to greet her son.

"Mark!" she cried, opening her arms. Mark walked over to her and let himself be enveloped in a big hug. "I hope you're going to make this a regular occurrence."

"We'll see," Mark laughed, pulling Maureen up from the couch. "This is Maureen, mom." He gently nudged her forward and Maureen stuck out her hand for a hand shake and smiled.

"Hello sweetheart," she greeted her primly, giving a small smile before calling back up the stairs, ignoring Maureen's offer completely. "Jacob, bring the doughnuts down here for the kids! Oh, Cindy, get your feet off the table."

"Hey, I'm putting my feet up for two now," she rationalized. Mrs. Cohen kissed her daughter's head and sat down on a chair near the television.

"Oh, Cindy's twelfth birthday," she sighed, gazing at the television. "Your hair was even light then," she pointed out.

"So was Mark's," Cindy nodded in agreement. "How we got blonde hair from two brunette parents is beyond me," she laughed.

Mark opened his mouth to say something, but before he could his mother cut him off, pointing at him.

"Mark Isaac Cohen, do not imply that again, young man." She shook her head and continued talking to Cindy.

"Sorry," he laughed, burying his face in Maureen's shoulder. She giggled and rested her head on Mark's.

"What?" she asked.

"I always tell Cindy she was adopted. Then my mom doesn't let me have dessert." Mark looked up when he heard his father coming down the stairs. He carried a box in his hands, and set it down on the coffee table.

"Hi Daddy," Cindy greeted him.

"Hi sweetie," he smiled. "Mark, Maureen. Feet off the table, please." Cindy grudgingly removed them and peeked in the box.

"Can I have one?"

Mark proceeded to make pig sounds from his side of the couch. Maureen hit him in the chest, stifling a laugh, and Mr. Cohen chuckled. Mrs. Cohen was too engrossed in the video to notice.

"Mark," he chided. "Of course, Cindy."

"I'm eating for two," she told her brother, sliding the box over to him and Maureen. Mark picked up a doughnut and pushed the box over to his father.

"Aren't you going to offer one to Maureen?" he asked, startled. Mark shrugged and pushed his glasses up on his face. Maureen took out a doughnut and took a bite out of it, grinning at Mark.

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The telephone rang in the empty loft, echoing slightly along with Roger's deep snores. After two rings, the familiar greeting of the answering machine picked up the phone call.

"You know what to do."

"Guys? Roger, are you there?" It was April, and she was whispering. "Um, I'm not supposed to call anyone, but if you're there pick up. God… I'm so scared. I don't want to do this anymore, don't make me," she sobbed. "Fuck, pick up. I can't do it."

Click.