A/N: Sorry it's been so long! Time just got away from me with the holidays and all. So here's your update. Enjoy! PS: reviews are love.
Mark sighed, and let the reality of his words sink in for Roger. Clearly, they had, because Roger's green eyes were filled with tears and threatening to spill over. He looked as if someone had just slapped him. Mark knew him well enough to see that there were a million thoughts racing through his head, and Mark was sure that Roger had a lot to say right now. Fortunately, he was keeping his word, and keeping quiet until Mark had finished his story.
"I went into the bathroom, cleaned off the wound, and bandaged it up. I washed the heroin down the drain, and threw the syringe away. You had curled up on the bed, and cried yourself to sleep. I figured I'd talk to you in the morning about what happened. It was obvious the next morning that you didn't remember what had happened the night before."
Mark looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at Roger. "I went a few weeks later to get tested. When the results came, I just didn't know how to tell you. I just hoped you wouldn't notice that I was all of a sudden coming home with twice as much AZT as normal, and that money was tighter than ever."
Mark sighed, and hoped that he would be able to finish his story without crying. "I was so worried about you, Roger. I didn't think you could handle me telling you what had happened. I was afraid that you'd decide you were better off dead, and I'd come home to find you…" Mark let his sentence trail off, knowing Roger understood him. "I'm sorry."
Roger looked at Mark incredulously, no longer able to stay silent. "You're sorry! You shouldn't be sorry. You should hate me! You did nothing but take care of me through everything, and I repaid you by ruining your life. By handing you a fucking death sentence!" Roger was sobbing, looking at Mark with equal parts anger and love.
Mark looked up at Roger; unable to hold the tears back any longer. "I could never hate you, Roger, you know that. I know that you didn't do it on purpose. You were going through withdrawal, and you were still grieving. April's death messed you up just as much as the heroin did. I said I would be there for you no matter what, and I was. I am."
"I don't remember." Roger said in a whisper so soft Mark could barely hear it. "I knew that there were a lot of memories missing, but I never thought I could do something like that. Believe me, Mark, I never knew that I hurt you. I never knew that there was even the slightest possibility that I made you sick. My God, Mark… I don't even know what to say."
Roger began to cry again. He laid his head on the bed, and cried harder than he had in years, harder even than when he found April. Mark gently stroked Roger's head, crying himself. He knew that telling Roger would be difficult, but he hadn't realized how little he'd dealt with it. He continued to stroke Roger's hair gently, until the other man's breathing had evened out and he was snoring softly. Mark began to cry harder, until he eventually followed Roger's lead and cried himself to sleep.