A/N Wow you people seem to have a little problem in the slash department! Slash wasn't really the purpose of this whole fic. Actually, as I was telling Becca, it all started with one single line that I came up with and I had to work a whole fic around that one line. And that line hasn't even been said yet! So basically I've been working from the end towards the beginning to figure this whole fic out. Maybe that's why this one has been more difficult to put together.

Anyway, I hope you like it. I neither promise or deny slash. Guess you have to wait and see. And there is at least one chapter more after this one. Hopefully I'll get it up quickly as I've got something else I really want to work on. One I've had sitting on the back burner simmering away in my twisted little mind for awhile now. Hopefully I'll get that one up soon. Happy reading and thanks to all my twisted little slash needing reviewers!

Kelby

Chapter 5

"Mark, you sister's here. And the car. Are you guys ready?" Collins called down the stairs.

Roger gave Mark one final squeeze. "Don't worry."

"Thanks." Mark told him, letting him go and wiping his eyes under his glasses. "Yeah, we're coming." He yelled back up the stairs.

They finished getting ready and headed up the stairs. Roger felt so bad for Mark. The whole thing with his parents was bad enough. But he knew the thought of having to stand up in front of all those people and speak was just about terrifying Mark.

Mark was the camera man, the director, the writer. He was never the star. Roger knew one of the reasons Mark was so comfortable behind his camera, was simply that. He was behind something. There was no comfort zone what so ever for Mark out in front of a crowd of people. Sure he could get up and raise hell and dance on tables with his friends. But that's now. After years of being pulled out of a shell of perpetual shyness by them all. It was a comfort level he would never have today. Yes, Roger knew that burying his parents would be hard for Mark. But he also knew giving a eulogy for them was going to be just about sheer torture for him.

And it wasn't going to be just the eulogy. It was going to be all the people. Roger remembered his grandfather's funeral in the weeks before he left for New York. People he didn't know at all kept coming up and talking to him. Like he should know them. Like they knew him. Telling him how sorry they were. How his grandfather would be missed. Throwing arms around his shoulders and hugging him tight.

Mark didn't like to be the center of a crowd. He didn't like to be overly noticed. Paid too much attention to. He liked to quietly sit back and observe. Roger knew no matter how hard Mark tried today, that wasn't going to happen. Especially considering the sudden and horrible nature surrounding the Cohen's death. Everyone would have an opinion. A thought. A comment. All to give Mark. To try and make him feel better. What none of them would understand, that the thing that would make Mark feel better would be to just leave him somewhat alone.

They climbed the stairs to the kitchen. Cindy was going over last minute things with her Mother-in-law's two friends who were going to help set up the food for afterward. Collins was getting directions from Martin's father. Maureen, sat quietly pouting in a chair by the door, having changed into an outfit that was extremely very un-Maureen like. But Roger had to admit it was more funeral appropriate.

Cindy noticed their arrival at the top of the stairs and stopped speaking mid sentence. "Oh Marky!" She grabbed him, squeezing tightly and not letting go.

After a moment Roger noticed Mark's face starting to get red from her squeezing so hard. He was about to say something when Martin looked at his watch and announced they had to leave right now.

Roger moved Mark along and walked out the back door, following Joanne and Maureen who headed towards Benny's borrowed car parked out on the street. The funeral home limo driver opened up the back door letting Cindy and the girls into the car. Just before getting in Martin turned to Collins.

"You're all set on the directions?"

"Oh yeah, we'll be fine. If I can keep up with Maureen on the streets of New York, I think I can manage to keep from loosing this thing on the streets of Scarsdale. Besides your dad gave me very exact directions."

Martin let out a little laugh. "Yeah, I bet. Down to the tenth of mile Dad?" He smiled at his father who gave a little grin.

"Not that exact this time."

"Martin we need to get moving. We don't want to be late. It wouldn't look good." His mother told him, but it was aimed toward the whole group.

Martin took a quick glance at his watch. "Yeah we have to get going. We'll see you all there."

"Okay, we'll see you there Mark." Collins told him, giving him a hug.

"Um, yeah, okay." Mark nodded uneasily.

"Yeah, we'll see you there." Roger told him, about to follow Collins and Martin's parents down the driveway.

"Wait!" Mark reached out and grabbed Roger's hand tightly, stopping him from walking and causing all the others to look back at him. "You're not coming with me?"

"What? Now?"

"Mark dear, it should really only be family in the car." Martin's mom told him in a somewhat patronizing tone. "Just you, Cindy, Martin and the girls."

"But..."

"Mom, Roger is Mark's family." Martin told her. "If Mark wants him to ride with us, he rides with us."

"Martin that really won't look right, showing up with friends riding with you."

"We have to go. Come on get in." Martin told Roger and Mark. "We'll see you there Mom." He let Mark and Roger climb in before climbing in himself and closing the door.

Roger had already shed his suit and was sitting on the edge of the sofa bed sweats and a tee shirt strumming his guitar when Mark walked down the stairs into the den yanking open his tie.

"I thought Martin's mom would never leave." He told Roger as he flopped onto the bed. God she's a pain in the ass.

"Yeah but Martin sure doesn't take crap from her. Did you see the look on her face when he told her I was riding with you this morning? I think she was a little pissed."

"Yeah well, I don't really care. I mean I really appreciate everything she did and all, but still. However there is still a ton of food up there. We'll have stuff to eat for awhile." He stood back up and took off his pants and dress shirt, changing into sweats and tee shirt as well.

Roger kept playing guitar for another few moments. "I'll be right back." He got up and went up the stairs. When he came back down he was caring a bottle of scotch and two glasses. "I found this in the cupboard the other night when I was looking for food."

"Oh yeah, my dad's scotch. That's his good stuff too. He used to hide it. I'm not sure if it was supposed to be hidden from me and Cindy or from my mother. I mean we always knew where it was, but it was supposedly hidden."

"Well I figured after today, you could use a drink. A real drink as opposed to our usual selection of cheap watered down beer that is."

"Sure why not." Mark sat up some against the back of the couch as Roger stepped up onto the sofa mattress and walked across it, sitting down opposite Mark.

Roger poured two glasses, handing one to Mark. "To your parents, who with out them, we wouldn't have had our Marky."

Mark let out a little laugh. "Too true. Or our hot plate, our couch, our dishes, our pots and pans, our TV, our answering machine, our sheets, our towels..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point." Roger laughed. "Just drink."

Mark held up his glass and clinked it with Roger's. "To my parents." He tipped back his glass and drank down the liquid. "Oh my God that's horrible!"

Roger couldn't help but laugh. "It's scotch Mark. You're supposed to sip it some, not down it like comocosies on dollar shot night!"

He let out a little cough. "Yeah, okay, whatever. Give me a little more." Roger obliged and poured more into the glass that Mark held up. "To my parents, who... who..." Mark put his glass back down. "You know you'd think I'd be able to come up with something about my parents I can toast about."

Roger leaned back into the corner of the couch. "You could. You just aren't thinking clearly right now." He told him picking his guitar back up and starting to strum it.

"Yeah I suppose." Mark said, sipping some more of his scotch.

With out looking up from his guitar Roger spoke. "You did real good today. Giving that speech and all. I know that was really hard for you, but you did really good."

"Thanks. Really. Through this whole thing you've been great. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"No problem buddy, that's what best friends are for." He took a sip of scotch and went back to picking out chords on his guitar.

"Hey what was going on just before I got up to give my eulogy? Why were you guys all moving seats?" Mark asked as he poured more scotch into his glass.

Roger let out a little laugh. "Oh that. Well the last thing I said to you before you got up was not to pay attention to everybody else, just say it like you're saying it just to me. I mean it's not like you haven't given me enough lectures over the years!"

"That's true I suppose." Mark grinned, sipping more scotch.

"Well as you got up Collins realized that if you were trying to pay attention to me, and only me while you where talking, that might be easier if Maureen wasn't sitting right next to me. So he made her move down to the other side of him, putting himself and Joanne between me and her." He laughed. "Probably a good move."

"Probably." Mark let out a little laugh. "She would not have been useful at that moment."

"Maureen has useful moments?" Roger asked trying to sound astonished.

"Behave." Mark leaned back onto the back of the couch.

"Okay. Sorry." Roger kept playing the guitar as the two fell silent for a few moments. After a few minutes Roger spoke again. "So how are you? Really?"

"I don't know." Mark told him with his eyes closed. "Somewhat numb I guess."

"That's the scotch." Roger grinned at him.

"Maybe. But not completely. I mean I just, I just, I don't know how to put it into words. Like I'm sort of in between emotions or something. Something that I just can't, you know, find words for. I sort of feel like I'm here, but I'm not. Like I'm in some alternate universe or some kind of fog or something. I don't know. I can't explain it."

"I know what you mean." Roger said softly, picking out notes on the guitar. "Trust me, I know exactly what you mean."

"You do?" Mark asked, somewhat amazed.

"Hello? Have you been paying attention to my life at all the last few years?" Roger just looked at him for a moment before cracking a little grin. "Seriously though, I do know what you mean."

"Oh." Mark said quietly. "Sorry."

"For what?" Roger asked between guitar notes. "You didn't screw up anything in my life. I did. Hell you've been about the best thing that's ever been in my life."

"Thanks." Mark said, as an embarrassed blush crept over his cheeks.

"Don't sweat it." Roger smiled at him. "And don't worry about all this stuff. It'll get better. I promise." He played a scale as he said it.

Mark watched his hands. "God you make that look so easy."

"It is easy. Here I'll show you." He moved to hand Mark the guitar.

"No I can't do it."

"Yes you can. I'll show you." Roger got up on his knees, took Mark's drink from his hand and placed the guitar in it. "Now put these fingers here, and these here." He placed Mark's fingers on the strings. "No wait put them this way, I mean..."

"Easy huh?" Mark laughed.

"Well it's like the tie thing, I can't do it backwards. Scoot up some." Mark did as he was told and Roger sat down behind him, placing his hands on top of Mark's. "Now press down these strings with this hand and with the pick in this hand run it over these three strings." He said into Mark's ear.

Mark let Roger move his hands. "Wow, I did it." He grinned.

"Of course you did. Because I'm an excellent guitar teacher."

"Whatever you say Rog." Mark grinned. He played the chord a few more times before he stopped and turned his head to face Roger. "Thank you. For everything. Really."

Roger didn't know if it was the scotch, the emotional roller coaster they had been on the last few days or the fact that he all but had Mark in his lap with his arms around him, but the next thing he knew, Mark was thanking him. And Roger was kissing Mark. And Mark was kissing him back.