AN: Ok! Big long chapter! I no own recognizable char. Or the song!
REPLIES:
Liv (BohemianCane): Ahem....crawls back into cave and promptly begins smacking self Man, if you think that was bad, you will really kill me now. DON'T HURT ME TOO BAD, PLEASE!
"You're taking another day off?" Dave slung the towel across the sink. Collins was sprawled out on the dingy couch.
"Dave, I'm sorry, I just feel really bad. I can't tea-"series of hacking coughs-"virtual reality like this to a bunch of NYU couch potatoes," Collins finished weakly.
Dave bit the inside of his lower lip. Collins was usually set with his work attendance. Meaning that in the time they had known each other, Collins had rarely taken a day off. Sure, he did take off once in a while, but those were mostly personal days. And even then, there had only been four of those- when Dave was in the hospital, and their dinner at Mark's mom's. No sick days. Until now.
"I want you to go see a doctor."
Collins nearly choked on his water. Now he sounded worse with ten millimeters of water and mucus in his lungs. "Why? It's a little cold..."
"No. I want you to go. Cuz that's not a little cold. People take Tylenol for 'little colds,' not sick days. You and I both know that something's really wrong here."
"I'll be fine, David."
Dave completely blocked out Collins's protests and grabbed the phonebook anyway. He returned ten minutes later, to tell Collins that his appointment would be tomorrow, one p.m. sharp.
Bel plunked down the 2.39. Starbucks was so not her atmosphere, but she was obsessed with mocha lattes whenever she got the chance.
She had a private busy life herself, too. While Mimi and Tara and Maureen where all getting upset over the wedding, and the guys with their things (whatever was going on in their lives; Bel didn't care what the fuck they were doing on a regular basis), Bel was continuing to see Paul. Paul- man, had they had a few weeks. He was treating her to New York's better nightlife, with people she only dreamed of seeing. Last night, she was sure she had been seen by talent agents.
Well, fuck you, Curtis, she thought, a smile creeping over her face, Remember when you told me to drop theater? I bet you'll come crawling to me for cash when I'm famous.
The only thing was that Bel couldn't remember what happened for the rest of the night. She remembered the clubs, but as she played through the previous in her head, the night became a lot hazier. Stuff she couldn't remember.
Bel was clean. She wanted to get out of school clean, so any of that anti-drug shit that came through her high school wasn't wasted. Bel wasn't stupid. She had known that her sister had taken drugs.
Just what the fuck was going on?
Walking down the backstreets back to the Alphabet City, Bel took in the sights and smells and sounds of New York. She loved it here. No one could tell her what to do. She was free.
It was a good day. How good was a good day for Bel? Well, she even had the heart to stop and say hello to Paul's friend, the one with the brown teeth and dirty overcoat, who had yelled, "How ya doin', Sweetheart?"
It was a good day.
"October 15," Tara said, "what do you think? Too soon?"
"Nah, it's good." Mark twisted off his beer cap. "My problem is, can we pull it off without stressing out the sick bay?"
"I hope so. Did Dave tell you about Collins?"
"Yup. Better be good tomorrow. I don't think he could stand it."
"Who, Dave? Please, we're pretty much used to it by now." Tara tried to smile, but beneath the grin held the darker truth. Dave probably wouldn't stand to lose another person close to him- and if his reaction to contracting AIDS was bad, Tara was scared shitless of what would happened if Collins or even herself were to die.
"I meant Collins," Mark said quietly.
"It still needs a name." Mimi rubbed her ever-expanding belly.
"Come on, you've been throwing up for that thing for two months, and you still haven't found a name for it?" Roger capped his pen.
"Hey, I'm not in this alone, remember, Daddy Rog?"
"Fine. Any ideas?"
"The best I can come up- or even thought about is 'Colin Angel'," Mimi said, cupping her chin in her hand.
"Colin Angel? What the fuck were you on, woman?"
"For the record," Mimi, her voice laced with poison, said, "Maureen came up with that one."
"Look, I've got no problem naming it after either Collins or Angel. But at least come up with a better name."
They sat there for fifteen minutes, arguing.
"Do you really wanna name it after one of our friends?"
"Hell yes! I mean, come on, these are the closest people in our lives, they're fucking family."
"I was thinking Teresa."
"Teresa? You're kidding me, right?"
"What? I think it's nice."
"Meems," Roger said, crossing over and taking her shoulders, "This is our kid. He's-she's- gotta have a name that's got some meaning. I would have no problem if you want to name it Angel."
"That's the thing, I don't want their name to be Angel."
Roger stared at her. She did not- "Why not?"
"Well, at least not their first name. I mean, that would be like, a stab against Angel and all she did for us." Mimi's eyes scanned the room before settling on an old, dusty photo album. "You got any choices?"
"I told you that I liked Colin Angel."
"I really don't like that name."
Roger looked upward. "Ok, how about...John? Good, neutral name. John Angel Davis."
"Nah..." She picked up said photo album and started flipping through it.
"I never thought it be hard...it's just a name."
"What about April?"
Roger's breath caught in his throat. "April? Why that?"
"Because." Mimi shut the album. "You really loved her. I mean, that's why you quit smack, didn't you? After she died." Roger slowly nodded. He had never told Mimi the real circumstances of his withdrawal, but she was nearly dead-on. "Besides," Mimi said, smiling, "she'll probably look like her, too."
"If it's a girl. Whenever she'll smile, probably," Roger said, "April Angel Davis. I kind of like it."
"I do too, babe."
"Marky!"
He cringed at the screech. If there was ever a time for a disgruntled ex-employee to come and blow the building up, this would have been it. At least Mark would have been able to escape the presence of Daisy.
"Hey," the girl said, tossing her shoulder-length hair back, "I missed you on Sunday."
"Isn't that an off-day?" Shit. That just sounded like Mark was attempting a joke. Now Daisy would be hanging on him even longer.
"No, silly." Did she just call him silly? Where the fuck did she think they were, the fucking malt shop? "Sunday was my Labor Day cookout."
"Oh, well, something came up, so we couldn't make it. See ya later."
Rushing past the shocked annoyance, Mark started to consider the effects of a nine-millimeter bullet in his head. Fuck that, he had a wedding in a little more than a month.
Dave forced himself to gulp down the cheap cup of hospital coffee. It was either the disgust of Folgers Ground, or the fact that it seemed like one of those full circle things Tara sometimes talk about. He grappled with his AIDS situation here a two short months ago, now Collins was dealing with his own.
Dave wasn't a religious guy, but he had prayed to God that Collins would come out okay.
Tara, Mimi and Roger had even offered to come with them to the hospital but Dave turned them down. This was his and Collins's problem, besides they all had something to do that was more important. He understood that Collins was their friend (and did a wave of guilt ever hit Dave after he turned them away. Surely, he was going to pay for that one), but this was also a private matter.
He paused in front of the door where Collins was, and immediately shut his eyes. Please, please, God, make him be okay. I just want Collins to be healthy and happy. Dave opened it to find Collins chatting amiably with the doctor.
"Great!" Collins said, with a grin, "Caffeine. Thanks, Dave." He took the Styrofoam cup from Dave's hands.
The doctor looked at the two, at the time engaged in a short kiss. "Ah. Young lovers." Dave smiled and nodded as he sat down on the bed next to the patient. "May I see you, Mr...?"
"Wendko. Dave."
The doctor, his nametag under glare from the hospital lighting, looked at Dave as he closed the door to the room. Before Dr. Ceia (so it seemed) said a word, Dave realized what was going on.
"It's that immune system. I wouldn't be surprised if the winter months would be giving him hell-I was shocked to hear he spent a semester at MIT. But it's gotten weaker over the past couple of months. His T-Cell count is steadily dropping."
"How long?" Dave's voice cracked.
"At best, February or even early March. But we never know exactly." Dr. Ceddia, shifting his arm, revealing his full name, reached out for Dave's. "I wish you and Mr. Collins the best of luck, Mr. Wendko."
Collins watched Dave walk back in, with watery eyes. He hadn't cried since Angel, but seeing Dave just made that emotional dam break up again.
"I don't want to tell them yet," was all Dave said. That was understandable. Some line from an old movie ran through Collins's mind, some nonsensical parody, but now it seemed to make sense. This is supposed to be a happy occasion.
AN: Ok...mini song-fic here...hope you like
"I'm not a perfect person.
There are many things I wish I didn't do
but I continue learning.
I never meant to do those things to you.
and so I have to say before I go,
that I just want you to know
Benny grabbed one of his picture frames. Was it only really three years ago? They were all still friends- April was still alive, Collins didn't have AIDS, Mark and Maureen the Drama Queen were madly in love. To them, Alison Grey only existed in vapid gossip columns, not Mrs. Benjamin Coffin the Third, not "Muffy."
I've found a reason for me,
to change who I used to be
a reason to start over new,
and the reason is you
Bel walked in the amazingly empty apartment. Mimi had left her a note-she and Roger wanted a bit of a romantic evening (although Bel couldn't figure out how long that would last on the limited funds), same thing went for Collins and Dave.
She stashed her purse in her room, and went back out to fix herself a sandwich. But before she got to the kitchen, she stopped to check the messages.
Only Bel wasn't hungry anymore once she heard the first one.
"Mimi, chica? It's Mami. I'm calling to see if you've heard from Bel...Please call me back soon. Tell her we miss her? To come home? I miss both of my girls...you know the number."
I'm sorry that I hurt you, its something
I must live with everyday
and all the pain I put you through,
I wish that I could take it all away
and be the one who catches all your tears,
that's why I need you to hear
Mimi stretched out on the blanket. "Baby's been quiet tonight."
"Yeah, no aftertaste of puke when I kiss you."
"Roger!"
"What?" He smiled. "It's true."
"Excited for Thursday?" she said, snuggling in closer.
"Am I excited? Babe, is Mark anal-rentative?"
"Ok, then that's a yes."
"There might be a record exec there. Man, I'd love it. A second chance."
"What about your friend Theo?"
"Theo?" Roger's face dropped at little. "Oh, yeah. His band's opening. Hopefully it'll be over quick."
"You don't sound too excited."
"What, about Theo, or declaring the love for you, babe?"
"I don't know," Mimi started to laugh.
Roger pulled her in closer, and they started kissing under the somewhat seeable stars.
I've found a reason for me,
to change who I used to be
a reason to start over new,
and the reason is you
Mark really, really, really did not want to go back home. It was that bad of a day- Daisy was one thing, but mind-sapping yuppie scum executives? Mark was ready to pick up Collins's copy of the Anarchist's Cookbook (a joke gift from Mark and Roger, which resulted in a lesson in the history of anarchy) and use it for his own prowess.
Mostly he just didn't want to go home and be deluged by wedding details.
God dammit, a month before, and he was getting cold feet. Hell, Mark was even doubting that he should marry Tara. They hadn't even known each that long-why in God's name where they getting hitched anyway?
Unfortunately, Mark did find himself climbing the stairs to his apartment. Only once after he opened the door, that doubt just seemed to wash away.
Tara had fallen asleep on the couch, with magazines scattered around her. Take-out Chinese was sitting on the kitchen table, either cooling off or simply forgotten, depending on which way you looked at it.
Mark knelt down in front of her, moved a few strands of her hair before kissing.
I'm not a perfect person,
I never meant to do those things to you
and so I have to say before I
go that I just want you to know
Dave held Collins's hand. "I don't want to spoil the wedding."
"I know you don't."
"You'll be okay. Just take your AZT, and maybe..."Dave couldn't finish it.
"Mimi's a miracle case, okay? Shit like that don't happen to most people."
"But maybe..."
"Dave, look. There's a fucking plan for everyone. I know I sound Christian and all, but I think this is something bigger than me dying and leaving you all alone."
"Well, how am I supposed to believe bullshit like that?"
Collins looked down at the ground. "I don't know. Sometimes, you just gotta do." He looked back up at Dave, whose face was starting to stream with tears. "Don't act like that. Please."
"Why? You should be dead to me."
No. I'm still here." He cupped Dave's chin in his big, brown hands. "I sincerely love you. When I die, I want you-and Mark, and Roger, and all them- to celebrate that, got it?" He pulled Dave's face closer, and they kissed, Collins grasping the back of Dave's shirt, and Dave wiping his tears on Collins's brown leather jacket.
I've found a reason for me,
to change who I used to be
a reason to start over new,
and the reason is you
I've found a reason to show
a side of me you didn't know
a reason for all that I do,
and the reason is you
PS: Yes, I know it's corny, but I'm seriously obsessed with that song. I've listened to it 22 times. Literally.
REVIEW PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!