'Til Death Do Us Part

CHAPTER 4: Dead

SUMMARY: Mimi has made what is probably the biggest mistake of her life and is on the verge of losing Roger forever, and now she has. He found out about her betrayal. This chapter takes place a week later after Collins caught her leaving Benny's apartment building, October 30th… Angel is getting worse…. Everything is starting to pick up speed now and only hours remain before one of them is separated from their lover forever…

11:00PM

Roger stared, emptily, out the window of the loft- not speaking, looking, or listening to anyone… he wasn't even acknowledging any of them who where there with him. It had been a week since Mimi had arrived back, hysterical, with Collins at her side… and he had immediately known something was up. At first he thought she was hurt, or that the virus was taking a strangle hold of her, but the look on Collins' face told him that it wasn't any of that… and how Mimi was acting – and then she had told him what happened, after much prodding and pressure from Collins. And Roger had just stood there for fifteen minutes, with Mark and Angel at his side, while Mimi begged and pleaded for him to forgive her and that it had been a mistake. What happened next was pretty much a blur, but this is a general rundown of how things went: Roger screamed for her to get out of his life, and vowed that he would track Benny down and kill the son of a bitch. The woman he loved lied to him and slept with his most hated enemy. It took both Mark and Collins to hold him back from getting violent, and even so it took a lot of their strength… Roger's already fragile spirit had snapped, and now all he wanted to do was kill Benny and Mimi and anyone else who got in his way. It had taken Angel another three hours to calm him down; and now Roger was just depressed again… and the thought of suicide was mighty appealing. Collins, Mark, and Maureen were sitting on the sofa, with Angel on Collins lap, and all were concerned about Roger's state of mind. No one had seen Mimi since the day Roger threw her out, and she hadn't been heard from since then – Angel had canvassed the areas where he knew she hanged out or got her fix, but nothing. Well, Mimi Marquez had definitely hidden herself away good this time… and since it had been days when anyone had last seen her, no one could be sure that she was okay… or even alive.

"Someone's got to do something…" Maureen complained, confused. She was probably the least experienced person in the room when it came to dealing with other people's pain – although she was the most experienced person to deal out pain to other people, for example like she did to Mark. But she wasn't a bad person, far from it – Maureen just had her own way of dealing with things.

"Like what?" Mark shot back, resting his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand. What could they do? Mimi could be anywhere in New York City, and Roger was the most stubborn person – and most short tempered – of any of them. And besides, it wasn't their responsibility to interfere in their lives… but on the other hand, things were getting dangerous. Roger's temper was getting shorter, and Mimi was out on the streets probably freezing cold and in a very intense state of ill health.

"I don't know, Mark!" Maureen snapped, her voice soft enough so that Roger was out of earshot.

"Just something!"

"Shut up, guys!" Collins was so sick of their bickering – it was like an old record that kept skipping over and over the same track, it was annoying!

"Fighting isn't going to solve anything!" at least he was one of the rational ones in the group. Meanwhile, Angel was barely awake and his head rest on Collins shoulder and was wrapped in a blanket. He started coughing, breaking any chance of a fight starting, and Collins immediately squeezed him closer and kissed him, trying to remain strong for the both of them. He really didn't want to deal with any problems Roger and Mimi at the moment… his lover… the love of his life, was dying and by the looks and sounds of it, may only have a few hours left to live. Angel's face was dangerously discolored, his eyes were watering and bloodshot, and the coughing was starting to get so intense that it was beginning to hurt. Collins decided to wait until morning, and if Angel had gotten past the cold – or during the night, if he got worse – then he would take him straight to the emergency room… he wanted to take the fallen drag queen at the moment, but Angel refused to go. He refused to die in a hospital. Angel wasn't going to let himself die while being surrounded by death at the same time…

"Baby," Collins cooed, softly, and kissed Angel on the lips. The whole world disappeared around them, and now only they existed in each other's eyes, minds, and hearts. Angel's eyes flickered open and looked up at his love, though it looked like it was taking him all the effort in the world to do just that. It was agonizing enough to know that his life was almost over, but now to stare into those once-strong, now-weak dark brown eyes of the only man he could ever bring himself to love… it was worse than death.

Collins planted small, comforting kisses on Angel's face, sensing the fear in the young one's bloody. They were both shaking – it was time. At that moment, they could both feel it – it was going to happen within hours. Angel could feel the life being sucked out of him, while Collins could feel him slipping away in his arms…

"Co—Collins," Angel stammered. Mark and Maureen both tensed up, though Roger paid them no attention – he was barely alive in himself, let alone to the rest of the world where he could interact or heed the needs of others. Collins kissed him again.

"I'm here," his voice choked up. Angel smiled, weakly.

"Alone." He demanded, with Collins detecting a little hint of diva-attitude on his voice. "Now!"

Angel wanted to relax the atmosphere between them for what probably would be their last night together. As much as it hurt, they both knew it was coming… and so could everyone else in the room. Maureen stood up. She had to go call Joanne and let her know what was going on; about Mimi and Angel – everyone had to be there for Angel's final moments.

"Excuse me," she politely walked away and left the loft. Mark also stood up. If this really was the end for Angel, he was going to at least try to wake Roger up to the fact. The family was falling apart at the seams, but he wouldn't let it go without a fight – Mark had been resigned to the fact that he was now the outsider, looking in… the lone observer who saw everything happen and was there to catch it on film. The pain of watching a person die, let alone a close friend, was unbearable for anyone… but for the lone observer, it hurt even more when he realized that he probably would never experience the love that Angel and Collins were experiencing, or even Roger and Mimi. After all, if there was no love between the musician and the dancer, none of this would've happened between them and Roger wouldn't be reacting the way he was.

Before he walked away, he touched Collins' shoulder and caught his eyes. Mark nodded, in acknowledgment and then walked over to Roger, who didn't move or say anything him. His selfishness and self-pity was nothing to him anymore, but the hurt and betrayal lingered with such a strong, bitter taste in his mouth… everything was falling apart – life, love, friends, family… if you had none of that, what do you have? The hate, the anger, the pain… the evils that was once thought to be expelled from that small group of bohemians, had suddenly come back with a renewed force, and none of them knew if they had the strength or the courage to take a stand against it and fix the things that had gone terribly wrong.

Mark shook his head and grabbed Roger's arm, yanking him up. Roger got to his feet and stumbled back, surprised.

"Mark!" he snapped. "What the fuck's your pro—" before he could finish his question, Mark dragged him towards the door of the loft. He wasn't about to let Roger let Angel's last hours be ruined by spite and hate and self-pity.

"Shut up," he growled. "Come on, man. We're gonna talk." He opened the door, but Roger resisted.

"No fucking way, let me—" but again he was interrupted and Mark pulled him outside, slamming the door behind them, and leaving Angel and Collins alone. But neither of them had even noticed the small altercation – their eyes were locked and now their own world had blossomed around them. Angel closed his eyes and smiled, serenely. He knew that Roger's heart was broken, and he didn't blame him for what was going on… but Angel could no longer try and help them, not when his strength as almost nothing. Neither of them had a care in the world for anything anymore, except each other.

"Come on," Collins whispered, caressing his lover's thigh and kissed his ear, nibbling on it. Angel giggled and allowed himself to be picked up. As Collins got to his feet, with Angel in his arms, he was surprised at how light his love had become… AIDS can cause severe weight lose in some sufferers, though neither of them had shown any significant drops in weight, even as Angel was so close to death. But he was very easy to lift. Once Collins had him secure in his grip, he then took him towards the bedroom. Their last night would be spent in each other's arms; and no one could break that… but only if it came to the point where Angel did die. Collins still held out hope that they would pull through this, but both knew it wasn't probably going to be so. He felt the tears in his eyes at every sharp, ragged breath Angel took, and every cough, every splutter.

"It'll be okay," Angel whispered, taking a deep breath in and with it, Collins' scent. The scent he'd miss when he got to those pearly white gates… the scent that always carried him off to sleep each night… the scent that always comforted him and made him feel secure. How they would ever be without each other was never considered until now… both had just tried to not think about it. And now it was too late. It was like divine intervention was forcing their hands. Without even realizing it, Angel let out a sob – the emotions were overwhelming and the hours were growing darker. Hurriedly, Collins lowered him onto the bed and climbed up next to him.

"Baby," he tried to remain calm. "Do you need anything? Water? Jack Daniels?"

Angel chucked before letting out another very rough cough. Collins pulled him into his arms and resisted the urge to tell him that they would make it… all the comforting words he knew seemed meaningless now, as they bore no truth. Everything was not going to be okay. His lover would die, and so would his spirit – without Angel, Collins had no purpose for continuing on… without Angel, Collins couldn't bear to imagine what it'd be like to think, see, hear, or breathe… the past ten months had been a dream. And now, he was sure, he was about to wake up… the dream would be over. Angel's tears slid down his cheeks, and one silently fell from his eyes to Collins' chest. Another one slipped onto his lips and that all too familiar taste of salty pain and anger swept through his heart and tore at it like a shredder machine.

"My love…" he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and embracing every last second that had together.

"I can't leave you…"

"You won't, baby," Collins tried to remain strong, but had to swallow the lump in throat. He didn't want to be strong anymore, but it was Angel who was surely about to cross into the unknown… there was no consideration of the hospital anymore. Angel would die in his arms, as it should be.

"I love you…"

"I love you too," Angel could barely get the words out between sobs and coughs. He opened his eyes, and met Collins'. They stared into each other's souls, reading the very language that had bonded them together since the moment they met on that Christmas Eve – love.

"I will always, my darlin'…"

"Shh…" Collins hushed him and turned onto his stomach, leaning over the angel. He then raised his index finger to his own lips and smiled, as hard as it was.

"No more talking…" he then leaned down and the two began to kiss. Each kiss became more passionate, and their tongue's entwined together as if they'd never let go. Tears mingled with passion and raw emotion. Though because of Angel's delicate health, they had to be careful… but it didn't matter anymore. Collins' heart beat to the same rhythm as Angel, his best friend; his lover; his guardian angel… tonight would be the night where the full potency of their love would be realized. But the tears continued to flow… the love was raw and the atmosphere was calm… the end was going to come… but only on their terms.

Angel responded to Collins' kisses as vigorously as he could – all the energy he could muster was being thrown into his lover's embrace. His delicate hand ran up Collins' muscular back and stopped at his neck. If there was ever a moment when every ounce of love and passion was drawn from every aspect of the world into one spot, this was it. Nothing could match the intensity of their love… Roger and Mimi; Maureen and Joanne; nor even Romeo and fucking Juliet could match it. Seasons of love also brought seasons of pain and anguish, one that Collins felt he was about to go through alone. Would he get through it? Absolutely. Would he ever be the same when he did? Hell no. To imagine one's life being tied with another's so greatly that they couldn't imagine taking a breath without the person one loves by their side… it was a classic love story set in 1980's New York with the obstacles not being vindictive, warring families, but instead was a killer that reigned ruthlessly over its victims' lives – AIDS… 1980's society… death…

"Collins—" Angel broke the kiss to regain some breath, and then turned his head and coughed.

"Collins, wait… what's… what's gonna happen when I—"

"Stop," Collins cut him off by kissing him. He then pulled back. "Don't think of it as our last night together, it may not be…"

"Then what--?"

"Think of it as… as just the next stage, is all."

"What?"

"Angel… for so long now you comforted me. You told me that no matter what, we'd be together again… that you wanted me to move on… and it took so long for those words to sink in. I want you to move on, too, baby…"

"Move on?" Angel frowned. "Collins, what—"

"When you get there… and you meet Him… He'll know the good person that you were, Angel. He'll see that. He knows you even better than I do. And you'll be happy. For eternity…"

Maybe Heaven wasn't enough for Angel, though… through his grief, he couldn't see any existence as being happy without Collins. It was because of Collins that Angel had remained as strong as he had, that he hadn't died on some street corner without anyone caring or even noticing… without anyone loving him… without feeling love. Angel felt he owed his life to Collins and their friends… they were the most wonderful family he could ever want, and he never imagined himself having one until they waltzed into his life.

Without another word spoken, they resumed their kisses… each second that past was more life Angel was losing. They had nothing left to lose now, except each other.

WITH MARK AND ROGER

"What!" Roger demanded, sharply pulling his arm out of Mark's grip.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You! What's with the self-indulgent, self-pity crap? Angel is dying, your girlfriend is missing—"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Roger growled. "She's a whore. I don't care where she is…"

"Bullshit!" Mark replied, forcefully. "You know that's not true! Otherwise you wouldn't be moping around feelin' sorry for yourself. You fucked up as much as she did, Roger."

"I didn't go out and fuck Benny."

"No, she did."

"That's right."

"And you wonder why…?"

Roger sighed. "Everyday."

Mark rolled his eyes. He couldn't take this shit anymore – he couldn't just sit back and let his friends fall apart like this. Mark Cohen, after all, was a member of the family… he never was an outsider looking in. Just in his heart, he felt like he was. So, it was totally understandable what he did what happened next. He pulled his arm back and swung at Roger; his fist connecting with Roger's face.

"Argh!" Roger stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall. His nose started bleeding. "Mark, what the fuck was that for!"

"WAKE UP, man!" Mark yelled. "After all this time, you still don't know why Mimi's still using? Why she's out fucking her ex-boyfriend? Why she's running away? Oh man, I only had this conversation with you last week it's fucking de ja vu!"

"Yeah, well you're wasting your breath," Roger snapped. "I don't love her. She's not my girlfriend. I don't care what she does."

"Oh really?" Mark stepped up to him. "Well then that explains it all, then. Forget her. But answer me this… while you're wallowing in your sorrows, did you notice for one second that Angel's dying? That we have Collins on the verge of a total meltdown because his lover is only hours away from death? Have you noticed that this family is almost DEAD? So... you say you don't love Mimi? Fine. But I know you don't believe that. I know you, Roger. But if that's what you keep telling yourself, fine… but don't forget that everyone else is losing the faith we once had in each other."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? Man, what will it take to wake you up? Finding Mimi's cold, dead body lying in a gutter?"

Roger's heart stopped at that thought, and Mark could see his physical reaction to the thought of Mimi being dead, all alone in the street… which totally proved that Roger was lying to himself. But what else could be done? Mark was about to give up on him… and once Angel was gone, there'd be nothing left – it'd be too late. His death would signal the end of the love that had held them together for so long, and that was the most unbearable thought of all.

"She betrayed me," Roger almost choked on the lump in his throat. Mark shook his head, sadly.

"She did. But you betrayed her too… you never told her the words she needed to here… and it forced her into the arms of another man."

"And what're those words?"

"You know what they are."

Roger slammed his hand against the wall – the pain was intense, but he paid it no attention. It was nothing compared to the tearing at his heart… and everything Mark had said was right. No matter what, Roger couldn't deny his love for Mimi no matter what she did… and he had driven her away. No… this wasn't his fault. Wait, yes it was. No, wait… the debate continued in his mind. His ego; his pride… for so long those qualities had carried him and sustained him through the darkest times in his life, but now they failed him. Those qualities were working against him and threatened to destroy his life rather than protect him.

"She betrayed me," he spat out venomously. "With Benny."

"She didn't betray you, Rog," Mark replied, his tone now softer…more gentle. "You did. You betrayed yourself. This isn't who you are…" he then reluctantly left his friend to think about those words and what he would do next. For the rest of the night, Roger sat outside… just thinking. Mark retreated to the sofa in the loft and lay down. Everything was about to die, not just Angel. And he'd be there to catch it all on film. What a year. The question he was asking himself now…

"How do you measure the life," his whispered, idly playing with the camera. "Of a woman or a man?" he switched the camera on and looked at the feedback… the moment he finished his sentence, and image appeared on the screen. It was all of them at the Life Café… the night of La Vie Boheme. I was all there. The family. The laughing; the smiling; the singing; the love; the strength of the bond that once was.

"Measure in love…"

THE NEXT MORNING

Collins hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that night… he couldn't. He didn't want to be asleep and then wake up to find Angel dead in his arms. But his young lover had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago, after a night of passion and fire. He seemed to be comfortable and okay – only a few restless turns had gained Collins' concern, but other than that, the rest of the night had been peaceful. All he could think about was when it was gonna happen. It might not end up being today at all! It could be tomorrow; next week; or even next month! But whenever Angel's time came, there'd be no preparing for it… you can't prepare for death, because you can't know what death is, how to experience it, or what happens after it occurs. All anyone can do is mourn it.

"Honey, you look like hell," came a weak, yet alive, voice from next to him. Collins looked to see Angel smiling up at him, resting comfortably. He smiled back. But before he could think of a clever comeback, Angel started coughing, violently. The brief moment of tranquility was over. Alarm bells went off in Collins head, and he sat up and pulled Angel into a sitting position in between his legs. The coughs were becoming more and more painful for the drag queen, and he could barely breathe. The room began to blur and even Collins' face darkened.

"Angel!" Collins panicked. The coughing soon died down and tears streamed down Angel's face, and his too.

"Collins…" he sobbed, taking deep breaths.

"Angel, please!" Collins rocked him, gently. "Please, hang on, baby. I'm getting' you to a hospital!" he started to move, but Angel gripped his arm.

"No!" he breathed harshly, trying desperately to hang on. The time was winding down, he could feel the blood in his veins starting to slow… his heart beat started pounding against his chest so fast that he thought it'd explode. Collins burst into tears… no… no not now. Not now!

"Collins, no!"

"Angel, don't give up! Please!"

"Collins, it's over!" he cried.

Collins didn't know what to do – now everything had lost perspective… Angel couldn't die now! He couldn't! He wasn't ready – Collins wasn't ready! They still had so much to say to each other, so much to do! He reached over to the side table and picked up two tissues and gently pressed them against Angel's forehead, dabbing at the sweat and tears. Death came at the most inconvenient times…

"Baby," Collins begged. "Come on, you can make it!"

"Collins," Angel grasped at his lover's shirt and pulled him closer. All he wanted to do was to feel Collins' tender lips on his own again – to take that sweet moment, the flavor over with him to the next world. With his kiss, he would be able to prepare himself to face whatever his Creator had in store for him.
Collins took the hint and leaned down and pressed his mouth to the dying man's and forced himself to not ruin the moment by crying. He silently prayed to God that he would at least give them time to say goodbye.

Angel's breathing got deeper and deeper, his mind was focused on the man next to him. The pain Collins would go through after he died; what would happen to him in the next life… all the different scenarios were at the forefront of his mind, and there was nothing he could do but count down the seconds as each breath released a little bit more of his soul into the next life.

"I'll get the others," he started to get up, but Angel maintained his grip on his shirt.

"No," he again said, weakly. "No, honey… please… just you and me…"

"But they—"

"I love them," Angel's watery eyes stared innocently in Collins' soul. "You… you came into my life and everything became perfect," he sobbed. "And when you – all of you – came into my life, I was blessed. I'm so lucky to have you all… and you, baby,"

Collins didn't like what he was saying... Angel was speaking his deathbed words, his final words.

"Angel, don't say—" Collins cried and clutched Angel closely, holding his hands to his chest and kissing his face all over.

"Don't say it…"

"I have to!" Angel coughed out – he was now paler than he had even been; his eyes were bloodshot and sunken back into his face. It became clear how much weight he had loss and the toll that the stress had taken on him was overwhelming. The feeling of death and the stages of passing were overtaking him and Angel had no idea what to do. On one side, his grief-stricken lover was calling for him to stay, but on the other side, divine forces were arriving to take him beyond this world and into the next.

"Collins… I love you so much; more than any man I've ever known. The love we have, it'll never die, honey. I'm always with you – forever… move on and be happy, and we'll be together again, I promise!"

"Angel, you can't!" Collins went into serious denial. "I won't let you, baby. The hospital, we still have a chance—"

"What? So I can die with the others? Collins… all I want is to be with you, darlin'."

Collins inhaled sharply. "I… you're my Angel… you can't…"

"And I won't…" Angel was interrupted when he started coughing, but it faded after a few more seconds. "Tell Mark that no matter what, he has to finish his film. Tell him that only with its completion will our family live on!" Angel knew that the group was dying, and only with Mark's film could they see exactly what they had. Collins merely smiled through his tears and nodded.

"And Roger… get him to see Mimi… bring them back to each other, don't let their love die. And tell Mimi to get off the fucking drugs, man…"

Collins chuckled at Angel's continued diva attitude even as death was taking him.

"Tell her that I'll meet her when her time comes, and not to be scared."

Again, his lover nodded in understanding his final requests. He couldn't believe this was happening – Angel was going back to heaven… his Father was calling him home; his work was done. Angel had touched magic on every one of their lives and had bought them together in a way that no one else could… he brought love, laughter, and spirit. Everything that a family needs to remain strong and to get through all the evil and bad times. He truly was an angel. And he was going home.

"And Maureen… tell her that her voice is her power, and that she has to use it for all of us… tell her there is love for her – with Joanne, with all of us. Tell them all how lucky I was to have them with me, and I'm taking a part of each other them with me, okay? So you know I won't be alone. And I'll be waiting!"

Collins' body shook from silent sobs and the tears slipped down his face and onto Angel's chest as he cradled him in his arms. He reached up and stroked Collins' cheek, ready for his final kiss… their most passionate one and pulled Collins to him. Their lips met and everything that they had experienced – from their first meeting, to their first dance, to their first kiss, to the first time they made love… and everything that had happened since then… it all came flooding through their lips; their tongues… Collins pushed the kiss deeper and Angel responded with more energy than he had in him for the past several months. The passion and love was at its climax, until Angel pulled away ever so slightly and reluctantly… their faces remained with in inches of each other and Collins could feel Angel's shallow breath on his face. Their eyes remained locked.

"I'll never, ever leave you, my love," Angel put his hand over Collins' heart, and his eyes fluttered. Tears caused his brown eyes to sparkle. "I love you."

"I love you too, Angel," Collins whispered, planting one more soft kiss on the young man's lips. When he opened his eyes and pulled back, Angel's eyes closed and his breathing stopped, and his chest stopped rising. Angel Dumott Schunard had died.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay… should I continue? Wow that was intense. Let me know what you think!