'Til Death Do Us Part

Chapter 5: Mourning…

SUMMARY: Angel has died, and Collins is devastated… and the group was falling apart; nothing was the same anymore. So as Collins is falling deeper and deeper into depression, Mimi is still missing and she is getting closer to death – and time is running out for Roger to find his words for her. In this chapter, we also follow Angel into death and the journey, the process he must proceed through on his Judgment Day.

All was now quite in the room, with exception to the gently, yet harsh, sobs that escaped Collins' throat and wracked his body so much that it hurt. His lover now lay still in his arms… no breath of life, no rise and fall of his chest that would single that he was still in the realm of the mortals… nothing. Small whimpers were the only sound Collins could make – it was finally over. Angel's eyes had closed for the final time… the professor gently placed his fingers on Angel's lips, and was shocked at how quickly they had lost their warmth, as his limp body now had been separated from his soul. Collins looked around the room, terrified and confused… like he didn't know where he was or what to do now – like the entire world had just fallen away and was replaced with a void. Nothing.

"An…gel…" his whispered; his voice now small and filled with grief. As expected, he got no response to the mention of his love's name. And forever he would have to grow accustomed to not having Angel's sweet voice float through the air like the wind – Collins felt naked without that voice, and with the knowledge that he'd never taste Angel's lips on his ever again. Now, Collins also has the virus also, so one would expect the he, too, wouldn't have long to live, but that's not true… at that moment, his health was as good as could be expected and for all they knew, he could live another ten or fifteen years and still not have Angel at his side.

"No…" he sobbed softly and his head fell onto his lover's chest and started crying openly. Angel was dead. He would never be with him in this world again… no more sweet kisses… no more love-making… no more of those beautiful brown eyes staring into his own. All there was in Collins' mind now, was nothing… nothing existed to him now- because without Angel, there wasn't anything that could breathe life back into his soul. Collins' soul felt as dead and lifeless as Angel's body… and the weight of that, he knew, would stay with him until the day he died as well. The air in the room grew cold and he felt as if it were being sucked out of the room, as well as his lungs… Angel breathed life into every room, every person, every soul he touched, and his death would not pass the world unnoticed. Another angel had departed the earth – his work had been accomplished in bringing people together, and more importantly, showing them the meaning of love… he taught them how to love, and that love itself was everywhere. Between lovers. Between parent and child. Between friends. Between siblings. Between owner and pet. Everywhere it existed in different forms and was expressed in different ways… but that didn't make it any less potent or special from one way to the other. And Angel, Collins knew, showed them that – he showed them the world beyond just what they could see, and if anything that was the work of God himself working His divine will through one of his children; his Angel. And at least that provided Collins with a measure of comfort…

He lifted his head and looked at Angel's face and a small smile played across his own face, through the tears. His heart beat was so heavy, it felt like lead – but all Collins could do was smile at the young man who had brought so much hope and love into his own life, and taught him to believe in the powers of the Creator, and to appreciate life and love in all its glory.

"Angel… my angel…" he whispered and let his fingers glide across Angel's lips and then across his eyes and the smooth texture of his skin. The peaceful look that Angel died with was enough to prevent Collins from breaking down entirely.

It was then that a knock came at the door, snapping him from his trance and he looked up. Without having the chance to respond, the door opened and Mark rushed in with his camera, looking at it in a very annoyed way – he didn't know what had just happened.

"Hey guys," he started, still fidgeting with his camera. "Sorry to interrupt, but I—" he stopped when he looked up and he dropped his camera. His eyes fell on the scene like a ton of bricks hitting a concrete pavement… Mark stared in total confusion. He took the scene in visually, though his mind took its time to process it. There on the bed, a tearful yet surprisingly placid Collins was cradling Angel who wasn't moving. Collins let out another sob and couldn't contain his emotions any longer, and Mark almost tripped over himself.

"Collins? Angel?" he stepped forward. Finally, with another person in the room to take the strength from his heart, Collins burst out crying and fell back down on the bed; Angel's lay next to his. Mark's throat closed and a sudden wave of panic and helplessness… he rushed to his friend's side and started shaking his head, trying to deny himself of what his eyes were telling him – this couldn't be true.

"No…" he choked up. "No… Angel! Collins… wh—" he stopped again when he saw the absolute grief on Collins' face. Angel was gone. All Mark could do now was embrace Collins, and before he could really process the scene, another person entered the room.

"What's happened, I—" he paused, just like Mark had and saw that the time had come. But unlike Mark and Collins, he wasn't surprised… nor was he stunned or even crying. Roger breathed in, sharply and maintained his composure. His friend had died while he was wallowing in his own problems, and hadn't even said goodbye to him or spent time with him. In front of him, Mark and Collins were both crying and holding each other for comfort… but Roger just stood there, frozen. Time itself had stopped for this very minute and everything in life seemed to just not move.

Roger swallowed the collecting lump in his throat and immediately wiped away tears and any sign of emotion… this was a sign of things to come for Mimi – and Angel had died without seeing any of his dreams and words of wisdom come to pass. Collins ran his hand over Angel's chest and leaned down to kiss him once again – his lips were met with an eerie chill. No kiss back. Roger watched him and that's when it hit him. His body began to tremble and he fell back against the wall for support.

"Angel," his voice wavered. "I'm sorry…" he then turned around and ran from the room, unable to stay there with Angel's lifeless body. Tears streamed down his face and he threw the loft door open, which slammed against the wall with so much force, energy, and passion. It was over.

WITH ANGEL

His eyes opened. It was black. Am I blind? What was happening? There was just nothing there; nothing to see; nothing to hear… was he dead? He was dead! Angel whimpered and all he could remember was the dark chocolate brown eyes that was his love… what was this? Purgatory? Was he on his way to hell? Angel couldn't feel any sort of ground or hard surface below him – and there was nothing in front of him or behind him… just pitch black. It was like he was floating… suspended in nothing. Tears threatened to fall and he held his hands to the sides of his head, squeezing his eyes shut. The pounding of his heart was the only sound in his head and his skins became damp and soaked in his sweat and tears…

"Collins," he whispered. Angel's diva-attitude, his drag façade, his whole life now was emptied from him and there was just him, stripped emotionally. Speaking of stripped, something caught his eye and he looked down at his clothing. Pressing his hands to his chest and torso, and feeling the soft silky material between the tips of his fingers, Angel could see the white material that fell against his skin like butter. His garments were unlike any material he had ever seen in his life. But the clothing wasn't the only confusing thing of this all… just then, something flashed and Angel's head snapped up to see what it was, but it was gone. His heart raced and his breathing grew shallow and ragged. His eyes darted around in the darkness, but saw nothing again. Was this the calm before the storm when everything seemed so still and frozen. A glimpse of things to come, perhaps? But then, it happened again! An image flashed in front of him for only a few seconds, so bright that he blinked numerously and shielded his eyes from the sudden change in the brightness – even though it was only a few seconds, it was enough for him to recognize the image. And Angel was shocked, to say the least. Right as if he were back in time, at that time and place, he was in the backstreet behind a few buildings – and there he had seen the image of himself with his first gay experience when he was sixteen– having sex with a man probably double his age. Gay anonymous sex. It was also his first sexual experience, and needless to say it was scary, obviously. After around five seconds, the image faded and everything turned back again…

"Oh God," he stammered, looking around. Another image came into focus, and once again it was like he was being placed in it. Suddenly, Angel found himself on top of one of the building, on the roof top and overlooking the rest of the city. He recognized what it was… it was when he was eighteen, and he had just been diagnosed with HIV. Angel saw him as he had once stood at that ledge, contemplating suicide. The thoughts that had been running through his mind, he could now hear as if he was saying them aloud… they were thoughts that he had as he stood on that ledge some four years earlier, with that little white piece of paper in his hand that revealed the blood results.

"If I was to die… no one would catch me…" one thought rang clear, out loud.

"Would anyone even look up?"

Horrified upon the realization that these were important moments in his life that were flashing before him. He was here… it was his Judgment Day… With his eyes wide and studying the surroundings that he was once his reality; his life, Angel reached out to feel the wall of the building – but instead of feeling the rough, hard exterior of the brick wall, his hand slipped right through it, and then the image (the memory) faded away again. Blackness over took him again and the being in the dark, all Angel could wonder was which way he would go. These were moments that he knew he would be judged for. After all, where you went in the next life was all dependent on what you did in this life now. And there were many things Angel had to answer for, he knew, and that he wasn't proud of, and hell, was even ashamed of. But in his heart, he was good... he loved and was loved; he taught love; he experienced it and felt it with every ounce of strength that he lived and died with. No matter what happened to him, the last year especially, was the most special time he could ever have imagined for himself. And that's got to count for something, right?

The next moment in his life was one that preceded both those ones, to when he was a child of maybe seven or eight… it was at his home, with his family. In their living room. Angel choked up at remembering the moment, and saw three familiar figures fade into view. There he was, standing in his old living room in front of his past - his mother, his father, and himself as a child.

"Mom…" he reached out to his family, but then caught himself when he remembered they couldn't see or here him. After all, this was just a memory, a moment in his life which would turn out to be so defining his life. It was the moment when both his parents looked in his eyes and both told him how much they love him… how special he was… and how important family was. He couldn't hear them, but he knew it was that moment – never had he felt so much love than he had then… until he met Collins, of course. But that was the first time he realized how important family was and the love within that family.

"Momma…" he whispered and a single tear was finally released and slid down his cheek. He had ran away from home for good when he was thirteen years old when his dad found out that he was gay, and they had a huge argument about it. Angel's father had hit him, and Angel ran from the house never to return. And he hadn't seen them since then… Angel's one regret was not leaving Collins – because they had parted in the most beautiful way possible – it was that he never got to say goodbye; to make amends with his mom and dad.

The image also faded and was quickly replaced by another one, which caught his breath and he gasped. It was him and Collins… the night they met… the moment they touched for the first time… Christmas Eve, 1988. Being no longer able to hold it in, Angel burst into tears and tried to reach out to Collins – wanting desperately to feel his lover's skin on his own again. But once more, his actions proved futile and his hand gently went through Collins' arm, or at least the image of him.

"No…" Angel stubbornly pulled back from the image. From there, he didn't return to the black void that he had passed through from life into death… instead, the image transitioned into another one; another moment of Angel's life that would forever stand the test of time, as proven now. It was when he was buying Collins the coat on that very Christmas… and the next memory was of him and Collins making love. Nothing like his first experience with sex, this time it was pure love at its rawest, most defined moment… this was all too much!

Two seconds later, everything faded away to blackness once more. Whimpering and crying, a broken down Angel was now at the most perilous stage of his existence… as was the very nature of Judgment Day – to break the human spirit down to its most basic element; to strip away everything built up on him because of his upbringing or who he came in contact with; or even who he loved… stripping his soul down so that the real him; the true Angel Schunard would stand before the Almighty for his time.

"Collins…" he called the name of the only man he loved, and who had experienced his last human moment with, and he closed his eyes.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes and was stunned to see that now he was no longer surrounded by blackness, but instead everything was now white! Shaking beyond his control, Angel then felt something hard against his back… he was lying down! Confused, he pulled himself into a sitting position and jumped when a hand was extended to him. Looking up, a man dressed in a white gown and sandals stood in front of him with a very pleasant, comforting face. Angel was suddenly overcome with a sense of comfort and trust from this person, and so reached and took his hand, and was swiftly brought to his feet. The man smiled.

"Angel Dumott Schunard…"

He didn't say anything as he was too scared… fearing that he would say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. The person chuckled.

"Rest your soul, child," he reassured him. "You are safe. You are home."

The man raised his hand to Angel's face and pressed his fingers to his tears, wiping them away. The man then pulled Angel's arm to lock with his own.

"I understand you must be scared, child. Fear not. You've come home…"

"I… I…" Angel stammered. "W… what's happening?"

The person chuckled and patted his arm. "I must explain, dear child. You are home. You are safe. You are with your Creator…"

Angel's eyes widen. He's home? Heaven?

"Yes, Heaven," the person continued.

"But I…" Angel's confusion had peaked. "I… Judgment? Home?"

They stopped walking thorough the vastness of their white surroundings. There was nothing in sight except white. The man kissed his forehead.

"A myth must be dispelled of your Judgment, Angel," he spoke seriously. "Your Creator looks at the life you lived on earth… the person you are… the person you were born as and born to be… and you're home. Faithful servant."

"You mean… I'm in Heaven?"

The angel nodded. "Indeed. You must understand… it is not a person's actions that define who he is… it's his choices… his spirit… his embracing of his Creator as his Father, and accepting His divine wisdom… you are loved, Angel. And you are love. Your Creator sees that."

"But…" Angel stuttered. "I was told… I wouldn't… I mean… I'm gay… I killed a dog! I—"

"Shh… shh… Angel… there is much more to you then what you realize. Love, true love, comes in many different ways… your Creator sees that. Your creator knows the depth of your soul; your heart… You are home, child. All answers will soon be answered in due course. Your Creator saw your life… from its beginning to its end… and He can see you now. Scared, yet embracing Him. He says for you to calm your fears, as you are now safe with Him for eternity."

While holding his arm, Angel was still shaking so badly. This whole experience… everything he had ever dreamed had come true.

"The Father names all His children, Angel," the angel continued as they started walking again.

"And He has His Divine Will. A reason for everything; a purpose for all. And there was a reason He named you Angel."

"Why?"

"Because, child… you spread His love through His children… you were meant to complete His wishes, and you did. You did so, very well," the angel smiled warmly. Once more they stopped and Angel finally regained enough of his composure to be able to think a little more clearly. The angel standing before him was so comforting; so warm; so… so safe! But Angel continued to shake. This was all just too much… too much. The man, the angel, kissed him on his forehead again.

"You have taken Him into your heart… and He has embraced you in His arms… for ever…"

Angel shifted his weight to his other leg, still very confused and scared… "W… May I ask you something?"

"Indeed. Questions may always be asked, child…"

"W… where is He? I mean… God… my Father… where is He? Why isn't He here?"

The man smiled. "He has always been with you, Angel. In fact, He is here with you right now… He always was…"

And then, the man stepped away from Angel, and slowly a glow stared to appear around him. Terrified, Angel stumbled back at what he was seeing. The man started to glow even more, as well as several figures – angels – appears just behind him. Angel's eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. Standing before him… the angel revealed himself to be Him. God.

WITH COLLINS

Each step he took down the stairs thudded with heavy resonance – as light in his head that he felt, his legs were like dead weights, unable to move without the energy being forced through his veins. The ambulance was called, and a few hours, removed Angel's body from the premise… and it was hard enough for the medical personnel to be able to loosen Collins' grip on his deceased lover, but Mark, Maureen and Joanne had all managed to calm him down long enough. Even Benny had stopped by to see what was going on, and found that Angel had died – but Roger and Mimi were no where to be seen. Roger had run out on the scene after finding out about Angel's death, and who knows where Mimi was – she didn't even know Angel was gone. It was now five o'clock in the afternoon – Mark, Maureen, and Joanne had left to go find Mimi and Roger (they had left several hours earlier), leaving Collins to grieve alone, which is what he wanted. But as dead as Angel was, so too he felt dead. Any bit of life in him had died the moment Angel's soul left his physical being and departed into the next world, wherever or whatever that may be.

Collins walked outside and wrapped his coat around him, tighter. It wasn't cold – after all, it was October and the weather was warming up quite well. But he wore the coat that Angel had bought him almost a year earlier, and it still had his scent… nevertheless, letting go of Angel and moving on wasn't going to be an option for Collins for a long time. Benny had offered to make the funeral arrangements, in which he and Mark gladly accepted – financially speaking. But now, all Collins wanted to do was be by himself. In what was the worst day of his life, Collins had lost his soul mate and his own soul. Everything was cold now – physically, spiritually, emotionally… he was drained. He cried all his tears and now was left with the aftershock of the day's events.

He stood in front of this building for a few minutes and looked around at his surrounding environment. Everything was still the same; nothing had changed… people kept going about their business. Birds kept chirping away. Car horns kept honking in the distance. The air was still crisp. The sun was still shining. So… why did everything feel so different without Angel there?

Tears blurred his vision, but Collins didn't break down – they threatened to fall, but he didn't care.

"Angel," he whispered. His lover's name seemed to carry on the wind as a small breeze suddenly came through, causing him to shiver… like Angel was right there and had heard him!

"Angel…" he spoke again, but this time nothing happened. Taking a few more steps away from the building, Collins found his legs were turning from the heavy feeling, to more like jelly… like he was gonna fall down at any moment, so he leaned against the side of the building to steady himself. Everything in front of him was blurry, and he couldn't make out what was ahead of him too clearly. Blinded by his tears and grief, Collins had no one to turn to… the next few days he would be surrounded by his friends as they would try to help him pick up the pieces of his shattered heart. Having no more strength, he fell against the side of the building again and slid down to the ground. Pulling his legs to his chest, Collins started to sob, wrapping the coat tighter around him. The pain was never going to end…

MEANWHILE, WITH MARK AND MIMI

Mark had found Mimi at a local junkie spot near Central Park… it hadn't taken him long after threatening a couple of scrawny junkies who knew where she was, to hand in the footage of them shooting up that he had caught, out if they didn't tell him. Needless to say, it worked. Now, Mimi was in his arms, sobbing openly and hating herself for missing that last precious hours of Angel's life… Mark also found it hard to not cry. He hadn't wanted to leave Collins alone, but things had gotten so out of control with Mimi and Roger, that they couldn't even mourn the loss of the one person who single handedly taught them all how to love again… how to live again.

"I wasn't there…" she sobbed in his arms, clutching onto Mark for dear life. "This… can't…" she sobbed and swallowed. "… b… be happening…"

Mimi felt so guilty for something that she couldn't prevent, and from what Mark told her, all Angel wanted to do was spend his last hours with Collins, which was fair enough. But the fact that she had continually run off, and Angel always took care of her no matter what and she never really repaid the favor… Angel was gone. Angel was gone? Those words were too difficult to sink in. Her eyes were now swollen and bloodshot from the crying she had done. She staggered to her feet and Mark helped her up.

"Come on," he said, softly… sadly. "I'm takin' you back…"

"Back where?"

"To the loft. You need rest."

"Mark, our friend is dead!" she cried, hysterically. "Angel is dead! I'm not going back—

"Well you can't stay here!"

"Mark," she burst into tears again, and he pulled her into his arms. The grieving process has begun… in his mind, Mark believed that Angel really had no idea of the impact he had on all their lives. Even though he was being strong at this moment, it wouldn't last. And he would have to go through process three more times, sooner rather later. Mimi. Roger. Collins. The AIDS virus would soon claim their lives too, and they would go through a slow death… dying in stages… just as Angel had. And to be honest, Mark wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold up much longer for Angel's passing, let alone stand to see three other members of the family disappear before his eyes. Next to Collins, Mark was going to hurt the most from Angel's death, because he would see them all die from the virus that had ravaged America and the western world… a disease that had only been identified about seven or eight years ago, and they still knew little about it. Death was slowly eating away at the tight group of bohemians, and Mark Cohen would be the one to survive with it all on film… the harshness of reality; the fragility of life. What did it all mean?

But all Mark could do was hold the weak and dying Mimi. The full extent of what was happening; the grief, the emotional loss of his friends… he could feel it all. And it was slowly tearing away at his heart. With Mimi, it was different. At that moment, she was junked-up on anything, and so all she wanted to do was take another few hits of smack to kill the grief; kill the pain. Mark kissed her forehead and tried his hardest to provide some sort of the comfort to the guilt-ridden nineteen year old.

"He's gone," he choked up. "He's gone… he went on his terms, though, Mims. He went happy… a smile on his face… Angel's okay… he'll be okay."

"Why the fuck did this have to happen?" she screamed, slamming her back against the wall. "WHY? Why ANGEL? Fuck this shit, Mark!" anger was now quickly replacing the initial shock and grief. Angel was as his namesake told… an angel… he had brought so much love into their lives, and then he was ripped away from them! Her heart was hurting, physically hurting, and her anger was not helping her at all. She hadn't said goodbye to her beloved Angel, who only tried his best to look out for her and to help her find her way back to Roger's arms, forever. And he died not knowing her gratitude… she never told him.

"Why?" was all she could sob. "Why?"

Mark swallowed the emotion in his throat and wiped his eyes. "You know something? I bet Collins is asking himself the very same fucking question…"

Mimi's eyes widened. "Oh my God! Collins! How is he!"

"How the fuck do you think he is, Mimi!" Mark snapped, angrily. "With you and Roger off in your own little fucking world, Maureen, Joanne and I had to come look for you – Collins is by himself, grieving, and I don't know what he'd do. He just lost the love of his life, Mimi… and all you and Roger are concerned with is you fucking Benny and him not committing. And you know something? At least Angel and Collins had the fucking courage to tell each other of their love, and not hide it."

Mark let her go and stared angrily at her.

"All Angel wanted was for you both to see the fucking light. And you couldn't even do that. Now at least do something for him now… come back to the loft. Collins needs us."

Mimi sniffed and absorbed his words. She couldn't believe this was happening; she couldn't imagine not having Angel in this world, and couldn't begin to understand what Collins was going through.

"I…" she stammered and stood up straight. "I can't go back…"

"Mimi!" Mark interrupted. "Have you been listening to a word I've told you? Fucking hell, ANGEL IS DEAD!" tears slipped from his eyes. "He's DEAD! Collins needs us; he needs his friends…"

"He'll be there—"

"Roger?"

"Yeah…"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Mimi, Roger's disappeared. Maureen and Joanne are trying to find him now… and who cares if he's there? We need to help Collins! No one should be alone now… Angel wasn't. You shouldn't. None of us should. Get your ass back to the loft!"

"Mark, it's not that simple!"

"Why? Why, Mimi? Our friend is dead… and you can't even mourn him with your friends?"

"I—"

"Shut up. Look, if this is how you're gonna act, then fuck you. Roger doesn't deserve you. Unless you can swallow your ego and go support your friends."

Mark's words were harsh and then tension between them was extremely rough. As bad as it sounds, all he wanted to do was knock some sense into her. Literally. She was just acting like a brat now, and all he wanted to do was slap her. Mimi and Roger were in love, he knew that. But with Angel's death, she still couldn't see what was happening to them all, especially herself. Mark began to walk away, but looked over his shoulder at her one last time.

"I won't be coming back for you, Mimi," he said, sadly. "And I doubt anyone else will… it's up to you what you do now..."

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Let me know if I should continue! How do you like it so far? In the next chapter, Maureen and Roger talk, and they all return to the loft where Collins is not there. He is found outside, asleep. Roger and Mimi are forced to confront each other. Mimi grows more ill, and Collins gets a visit from someone special…