the-fraulien: I dunno about a quick ending or not, I think I'm just gonna go with the flow and see what happens, lol. I'll try to warn you, though! =)

And look out for Letters to You, a fic that I'll be co-authoring with Eponine54, which will be along in a little while!

Chapter 32

October

Maureen awoke groggily and shut her eyes tightly from the sunshine streaming through her studio apartment. She groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow.

"Morning," Mark called cheerily from the couch. He dropped the television converter onto the seat and leapt onto the bed, landing beside Maureen.

"Ugh, Mark," she whined. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you up," he grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. She cuddled up against him and shut her eyes again.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

Mark glanced over to the clock on the microwave and squinted.

"Um, 8:30?"

"As in, in the morning?" Maureen asked incredulously.

He laughed and hugged her tighter. "Yes, in the morning."

"Why are you waking me up so early?" she yawned. "You're crazy."

"Am I?" he asked, laughing maniacally.

"Shut up," she grinned. "It's too early in the morning for that."

"Want anything to eat?" he asked, crawling out of the bed and walking into the kitchen.

"No."

He turned back to her. "Maureen!" he whined.

"What?" she asked, kicking the blankets off of her. She got up and hopped up onto the counter in the kitchen by Mark.

"When was the last time you ate a full meal?" he asked, staring her down.

"What do you mean?" she giggled. "You took me out for dinner the other night."

He sighed. "You ordered a salad then you didn't even eat the whole thing! I'm worried about you…"

"Don't be, Marky. I'm fine."

"No you're not," he insisted. "You're so skinny. I don't want you to fade away."

She laughed. "I won't."

"Maureen," he frowned. She straightened up at his serious tone and looked down at her feet.

"I don't know why you're not eating, but I know it's nothing new." He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face up. "I want you to be healthy."

"I am healthy," she told him quietly. "It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is." He took her hands and kissed them. "Please, Maureen."

"Please what?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Let me make you a doctor's appointment," he tried, noting the skepticism in her eyes.

She shrugged and shook her head quickly. "I don't need one."

"For me?" he asked meekly. "I just want peace of mind. I really am worried about you, beautiful."

Maureen sighed and shrugged again, thinking about a decision. She gazed back at Mark whose eyes were hopeful.

"Fine," she smiled. "For you, I guess."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

She rubbed his back and forced a small smile. "Welcome."

Mark laughed and picked Maureen up off the counter, carrying her over to the bed where they both flopped down.

"Weirdo," she giggled, getting back underneath the covers. "Is a window open? It's chilly."

He shrugged, got under the blankets and pulled her closer to him, inhaling the comforting scent of her shampoo.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Maureen asked, suddenly more aware of the time.

Mark shook his head. "It's Saturday, babe. No work today. Anyway, I start work at ten. It's not even nine," he laughed.

"You know what I mean."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes again then sat back up, slumping forward. Mark sat up, too, and rubbed the back of her neck gently. She moaned quietly and smiled, so Mark started kissing her neck, moving slowly to her lips. His hand traveled down her arms and he placed his hands on her waist, leaning back onto the bed. He untied the drawstring on the sweatpants she wore as pyjamas, but she pushed him away.

"Mark…"

Mark sighed and looked down. "Not yet?"

She shook her head slowly, biting her bottom lip. "Not yet."

"Okay," he nodded.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"When you're ready," he shrugged, trying to act comfortable with the situation. "It's okay."

Maureen nodded sadly and rubbed her eyes, shutting them again with no intention of falling back asleep.

"What happened, Maureen?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" she asked.

Mark thought carefully before speaking. "You used to be so… physical. Now you shy away whenever I try and touch you. What did I do?"

She shook her head and sat back up, facing Mark. "Nothing. Oh, nothing, I swear. It wasn't you," she reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

"There's got to be a reason," he prodded.

Maureen gave a weak one shoulder shrug and shifted her gaze away from Mark.

"See? Please say. You can tell me anything you know."

Devouring the words and nodding slowly, she looked back at Mark and frowned. "I had an abortion."

The television seemed to mute itself and the fridge must have stopped running. All Mark could hear was silence all around him.

"W-what?" he stammered.

"I screwed up so bad, Mark. I'm sorry."

Mark was floored. "Was it mine—ours?"

She looked down and shook her head, not able to meet Mark's eyes. "No," she told him quietly.

"I knew you were cheating on me. I think I always knew. But even when you flat–out told me, I still didn't want to believe it…"

"Mark, no."

He stared back at her, his eyes almost begging her to tell him that it was all some elaborate practical joke.

"It was while we were broken up," she frowned, realizing that it didn't make the situation any better.

"When you did all that stuff?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. She wished she could have told Mark under better circumstances.

"Were you okay?" he asked after an awkward moment of silence.

"Yeah," she whispered.

He sniffed and moved closer to her. "You sure? You didn't get sick or anything?"

"No, I was fine," she told him.

"Good," he nodded processing all the information she had thrown at him. "Good." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. About everything. Everything I ever did to you."

He shook his head. "Me too."

"It's just… you do something to me Mark. You totally numb my senses or something. When I'm with you I just feel so different. You make me want to be a better person," she laughed quietly, "As stupid as that sounds."

Mark hugged her tighter. "You're perfect. You don't need to change for anybody."

"I love you, Marky."

"I love you too."

They lay like that for a long while, both losing track of the time. A sharp knock at the door startled them out of their reverie and Maureen reluctantly sat up.

"I'll get it," she yawned. Mark nodded and pushed himself up on his elbows.

"I'm gonna get something to eat."

"Sure," Maureen smiled, shuffling over to the door.

Mark slowly got out of bed and stretched his arms up over his head. He took a short trip to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, studying the very few objects in it. Maureen really worried him sometimes, and for some reason, he always expected the worst when it came to her.

"Oh my God!" he heard her laugh. He glanced over to her and was taken aback when he saw her carrying a bouquet of flowers. They weren't from him.

"Did you do this?" she asked, setting them down on the counter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him as he shook his head.

If they weren't from him, who were they from? Was Roger right – was Maureen cheating on him again?

"Oh my God," she repeated herself, laughing as she read the card.

"What?" he asked, placing his arms around her waist and reading the card over her shoulder, "Your mugger sent you flowers?!" he laughed. "What the hell?"

She giggled. "I know! What the hell kind of mugger has money to buy me flowers with in the first place?"

"I don't know. How did he know where you live?"

She shrugged just as she peeked into the wrapping around the flowers, finding her wallet.

"I was wondering where that went," she thought out loud, letting out a small laugh. "This is so weird!"

"Yeah," Mark nodded. He laughed and moved back to the fridge, relieved.

Mark and Maureen walked down the dimly lamp-lit street, hand-in-hand. They were returning from a small get together at a nearby bar with a few members of the cast in her performance of Tommy. The group left at the same time for the most part, having an early rehearsal the next day. Every couple steps, they would stop. Maureen's arms would snake around his neck and she'd pull him closer to her, and Mark would whisper sweet nothings before leaning in and kissing her. By the time they reached the door, Maureen was already trying to pry Mark out of his jacket in vain. He struggled to unlock the door to her apartment as she wrapped her arms around his waist and planted kisses along his shoulders. He finally got the door unlocked and they stumbled inside, swinging the door shut with their feet. Mark's fingers wound into her hair and Maureen tried to kick off her shoes. They managed to pull of each other's jackets, leaving them tossed on the floor, forgotten.

"I love you..." Mark murmured, tearing himself from Maureen for a brief moment. She nodded and kissed him again.

"You too," she whispered. "I love you." She cupped Mark's face in her hands and smiled, brushing her lips against his gently.

Maureen took his hand and twirled herself around, leading him into the bedroom. She pulled him to her and kissed his face -- his eyes, his cheeks, his temples -- everywhere but his lips. He desperately tried to bring his lips to hers, but failed as she moved quickly, moving down his shoulder, then back up his neck.

They both sat down on the bed and Maureen pulled away. She rested her head on Mark's shoulder as he rubbed her arms and kissed the back of her head, surprised at the sudden change in intensity. She gently slid her arms over his back and shut her eyes.

"Tell me you'll never leave me," she pleaded.

He moved back onto the bed, pulling Maureen with him and shaking his head. "Never," he whispered. "Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't want you to," she whispered back, kissing him.

"Then I won't," he replied simply. He kissed her back and linked his fingers together with hers. She slowly moved his hands to the hem of her shirt and closed his fingers around the edge before moving her arms around his neck as she pulled herself closer to him.

"Is this all right?" Mark murmured, fiddling anxiously with her shirt.

She nodded without a moment of hesitation.

"Of course."

"Bye mom," April smiled, kissing her mother on the cheek from the backseat of her parents' car.

"Bye sweetie," she replied, smiling. "Bye Roger. It was good to see you."

He smiled. "You too. Thanks for the ride, Sir."

Mr. Hunter nodded, smiling at Roger and April in the rearview mirror. "Anytime, son. We'll see you soon."

"Definitely," April nodded, taking Roger's hand. "Bye daddy."

"Bye," he replied, watching the couple get out of the car as they shielded themselves from the pounding rain outside. They ran up the stairs to the front door, skipping steps on their way up, laughing. They waited at the door and waved as the Hunters drove off, honking.

Roger wrapped his arms around April and kissed her, but she pulled away.

"It's raining!" she yelled, stomping her feet and laughing. "What are we doing out here?!"

"I don't know!" Roger yelled back, a rolling thunder seemingly replying in the distance.

April giggled and shivered, and Roger placed his arm around her shoulders in a futile attempt to keep her warm. She squeezed out her soaked hair and walked through the door that Roger held open for her into the lobby.

"Brr," she giggled. Roger pressed the call button for the elevator and rubbed some warmth into April's exposed arms.

"Oh, shit," she frowned. "I forgot my purse in their car."

Roger shrugged. "We'll call them and leave a message when we get inside."

Nodding, April smiled. "You're obviously the brains of the couple."

He laughed and shook his head as they stepped onto the elevator.

"What do you want for dinner?" Roger asked as they ascended to their floor.

She shrugged and leaned against him. "I don't know. Want to order in? I don't feel like making anything," she laughed.

"Sounds good since I just can't cook."

April laughed and patted him on the chest. "Ain't it the truth."

"Not nice," he murmured, kissing the side of her head.

She pushed him away and skipped out of the elevator, laughing and smiling. She stopped in front of their door and blocked it.

"Do you have your keys?"

Roger nodded.

"Too bad because you can't go in," she laughed.

"Oh no?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, the door behind her had opened. He walked right past April into the room, pulling her in behind him. They were shocked to find papers strewn across the apartment and a broken dish lying in the middle of the floor. The dining room table and chairs were soaking wet from the rain pouring in from a window left carelessly open.

"Fuck," Roger muttered as he rushed over to the open window and struggled to shut it, failing, finding out the hard way that it was stuck. April ran to the window, and together they managed to get the window shut, along with getting even wetter and windblown.

April winced and wiped the rain off her face. "Oh my God," she frowned, falling to her knees and crawling around on the ground, trying to distinguish the papers on the floor.

"Are they important?" Roger asked, on the ground and studying the papers as well.

"I think so," she replied, squinting at them. "Oh shit, yeah they are. They were my kids' essays on the Lord of the Flies. Fuck," she whined, tears forming in her eyes. She sat down on the ground and sniffed back the overwhelming feeling to cry.

"Hey," Roger started. "Don't do that, it's alright. We'll dry them out and everything'll be fine, okay?" he asked her, rocking her back and forth as she cried into his shoulder.

She nodded and wiped her eyes, giving him a watery smile. "Okay."

"You go get changed," he told her. "Get out of that wet dress and blow dry your hair and I'll clean up out here and order the food, okay?"

She nodded again.

"Are you okay with Chinese?"

"Yeah," she told him, standing up and wiping her cheeks dry. "Thank you baby."

"No problem," he smiled.

She smiled back at him and turned around, walking into their bedroom. She shut the door behind her and glanced around the room, walking over to the bookshelf on the wall opposite their bed. She examined everything closely, running her finger over the intricately designed frame of their wedding portrait, the newspaper clipping advertising the Well Hungarians' gig at CBGB's, and photo albums, with photos ranging from her and Roger's trips to Niagara Falls and Europe to visiting Maureen in the hospital when she had her first baby. Her glance caught upon the diamond ring on her finger. This brought a smile to her face as she was reminded of the day Roger gave it to her.

She sighed and turned back around, peering out the window at the rain that was slapping against the windows in sheets, lightning and thunder accompanying it closely. Somewhere nearby a baby started to cry loudly. Wincing, she dug through her dresser, pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She peeled off her drenched dress and clipped her hair up behind her head, quickly changing into the warmer clothes. Carefully, she picked her dress up off the ground and put it on a hanger, hanging it gently on the closet door to air-dry. She removed one of Roger's sweatshirts out of the closet and pulled it on, aching with the sudden warmth it provided her with.

She slid through the door leading to the living room and smiled when she saw Roger holding the baby in his arms, rocking it back and forth and singing it back to sleep, a blue bassinette somehow appearing in the middle of the room.

April was lucky that he loved her so much.

She quietly went into the bathroom and pulled out the hairdryer from the cupboard underneath the sink. She plugged it in and set it down in the sink, removing the clip from her hair and combing her fingers through it, wincing when she would discover a knot.

"Ow," she muttered, yanking her fingers through them. She shook her hair out and picked up the dryer, flipping it on and moving around her head.

She watched closely as every strand of blonde hair turned lighter as it dried. Once finished, she unplugged the hairdryer and returned it under the sink, running her fingers through her messily tousled hair.

Gazing half-consciously at herself in the mirror, her glimpse caught upon the reflection of the familiar hot pink object in the shower. Whirling around so she could examine closer, April moved nearer to it as if it was the first time she had ever seen it. She picked it up, running her finger along the silver blades, whimpering when her finger began to bleed. She shook her finger and stuck it in her mouth, feeling a new set of tears prickling at the back of her eyes as the razor fell from her hand into the white ceramic tiled floor. Getting down on her hands and knees, she picked it up again, holding it up to the light so it reflected off the silver blades.

April smiled and found herself on a mission. She stood back up and rolled the sleeve of her sweatshirt up, exposing her arm. Calmly, she brought the razor up, up, up, then—

April sat up in a cold sweat, rubbing her eyes and glancing around the dark bedroom. There was no bookcase, no soaking wet dress hanging on the closet door and no rain pounding against the windows. She panted, gasping for breath and felt heavy tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

She felt aimlessly around the bed for Roger, unable to see out of her clouded eyes. He grunted and moved, opening his eyes slowly.

"April?"

She brought her knees up to her chest and sobbed into them, unable to respond.

"April," he repeated. "What's wrong?"

He sat up quickly and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, trying to get her to face him.

"Are you okay?"

Shivering, April collapsed against him. He wrapped his arms around her, thoroughly confused.

"Roger..." she whispered hoarsely.

"Shh, I'm here," he reassured her, rocking her back and forth and stroking the back of her head. "I'm here. You're okay."

She nodded and clutched the blankets around her tightly.

"What happened?" he asked carefully.

April pulled away quickly and shook her head, wiping away her tears with shaky hands.

"Bad dream," she shrugged, trying miserably to be calm about the situation.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked. "It helps."

Shaking her head again, April turned away from Roger and pulled the covers tightly around her.

"No, I'm okay," she sighed shakily.

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying to turn her back to him. "April, come on."

She shook her head violently. "No, I'm okay. It was stupid. G'night."

"Alright," Roger replied, though he was definitely not convinced. "Night," he told her, staring at her as her whole body shook as she cried herself back into a fitful slumber.