DESTROYED

Chapter 18

SUMMARY: Collins makes a desperate plea to his lover. Mark makes a phone call to a familiar person.

3:00 PM. Sitting there at Angel's bedside, Collins only could stare at the mass bandages that covered almost every part of his face, and was wrapped around his neck which was being supported by a neck brace. A tube was attached to Angel's neck and was inserted into his trachea to provide him with air; and the machines surrounding him were the only things keeping him in the land of the living. It was all too much, and when Collins initially walked into the room, his legs turned to jelly and almost gave out on him, and Roger and Mimi had to grab his arm to prevent him from crashing to the ground. The vulnerability that was the sight of his beloved Angel lying there, almost unrecognizable, was a rare and very painful one… for all of them. He was pale, though warm to the touch and once again the consistency of the heart monitors provided the only sound that broke the deafening silence.

Collins had been sitting there for almost two hours just looking at him, holding his hand and placing loving kisses on each of his fingers and caressing Angel's skin, hoping that he could feel it and hear his voice. For Angel to die now, after everything he and all of them had gone through in recent days, would only serve to prove to Collins that there really was no God – no higher, all-powerful, all-loving being who protects His children. If Angel died… if even his beautiful soul wasn't enough to bring some sort of redemption to the human race… if even he wasn't deserving of a fuller life… then what hope was there for the rest of them? More importantly, to Collins, there would be no room left in for the capacity to love… love another as he does with Angel; or even love someone else, embraced as a friend. Each minute that passed only sucked more and more life out of his soul and there was only one thing that could breathe life back into him – and that was for Angel to open his beautiful eyes once more. Little did Collins know, obviously, of what just happened with Mark and Julia not too far away, and the fact that now Sam and Julian were caught on camera – Julian' recklessness now really had screwed them both. Even if Collins did know of this 'development', he wouldn't care… no longer could he afford, nor did he have the energy for, focusing his attention on his ex lover and his junkie sidekick. Angel, as he was and as he is now, had Collins' attention fully in hi grasp…

Roger and Mimi were also in the room, having been awoken by Collins as he and the doctor walked to Angel's new room. Obviously they were as shocked, though just as relieved, as he was when they were told that their friend had survived the surgery and was now in the tedious stage of recovery. When Mimi saw the condition that Angel was in, it took every bit of strength she had left in her (strength that was already being drained by the effects of withdrawal and the virus as it circulated its destructiveness through her veins) to not break down like Collins had done. Now, she was sitting on the other side of the bed from Collins and Roger was with her, sitting on the arm of the chair, and neither of them was saying a thing.

Mimi was slouched in her seat, twirling her hair around her finger, not really thinking about anything. She looked at Collins, who barely had registered, let alone acknowledged their presence… for his whole world was consumed with Angel, and nothing could become a distraction for him anymore. Disregarding the fact that for the past couple of days he was supposed to be working on, and submitted, his class' exams and that MIT had been trying to get in touch with him. He had finished his preparation, however, it had totally slipped his mind and again, he wouldn't have cared anyway.

Meanwhile as Roger sat there, he was wondering where Maureen, Joanne, and Mark were… surely they wouldn't want to be away for too long, at the risk of not being there at the moment Angel woke up – or, in fact, died. He stood up and stretched his arms, accompanied by a soft yawn.

"I'll go find the girls, and Mark…" he softly told Mimi, directing his comment to her as he knew Collins wouldn't hear him. She grabbed his arm.

"Maybe I'll go, too…" she replied, equally as soft. "I think they should be alone."

"I don't think Collins should be left by himself."

"Well what can I do? In his mind, we're not here. I don't think it'll make a difference," she insisted.

"Mimi—"

"I just think Collins needs time by himself, that's all."

Roger again opened his mouth to debate her, but when he looked at Collins, he saw a broken man who looked like he didn't even notice their slightly raised voices. He was blocking everything out, and that wasn't healthy… but as long as he wasn't talking to anyone, there was nothing they could do. He sighed.

"Fine. Fine." He walked around the bed and stopped at Collins' side. "Collins?"

Nothing.

"Collins? Mimi and me are gonna go find the others. Need anything, man?"

No response.

"Collins?"

After trying that third time and still getting no indication that Collins had heard him, he rested his hand on the man's shoulder.

"We'll be back soon, k?"

Knowing he wouldn't get any sort of acknowledgment, Roger didn't bother to wait to see if Collins even looked up as he and Mimi headed for the door and disappeared around the corner seconds later. Nothing changed in their absence as indicated by the lone ticking of the clock in between the sounds of the heart monitor that gave comfort of life still in Angel's body. Whether that life was gonna still be alive in his mind and heart when – if – he woke up, was a different story entirely.

Collins released his lock on Angel's hands; their fingers having been intertwined and he released them so he could stretch and give some exercise to his muscles. His stiffness and soreness was resonated by the escape of a soft groan from the back of his throat and blinking rapidly to break himself free of the restraints of the emotional carnage that lay before him. Collins then looked around, also relaxing his neck muscles in the process, and resisted the urge to stand up and move around – after what happened last time, he was determined not to move from the spot he was in until Angel awoke. And he would wake up. He would. He has to… Collins thought.

With an impending headache, he closed his eyes and massaged his temples with his index fingers and tapped his foot lightly on the ground out of sheer impatience – he didn't need his own body; his own mind attacking him now…

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he muttered, becoming insanely pissed off. He so did not need this now. Was God just screwing with him now? Kicking him while he was down? Or was it just fate's way of playing hackey-sack with his heart? In this one moment of his brief diversion of attention from Angel, he didn't notice the movement of his lover's fingers and the flickering of his eyes as the anesthesia wore off and brought him back to the world. The movement was brief and very weak, but Collins wouldn't have noticed anyway… the numbness in Angel's throat prevented even the most inaudible vocal outreach, and the blindness of the changing lighting dynamics meant he couldn't see anyway – at least, not at that moment.

It took a lot of effort for Angel's thumb to push through the air and garner even a little strength. Being at in a still position for what seemed forever, the impeded blood flow to his muscles made him very, understandably weak. Angel's brain wasn't exactly functioning at his brightest, but things became clearer each second he was awake… he could hear an incoherent, muffled-sounding voice to his side, but couldn't move his head to see because of the neck brace and the heavy, thick bandages that were wrapped around his neck, face, and head. In actuality, even if someone was looking at him, it'd be hard to see that he was really awake unless they remained focused on him. There was no pain. That was the first thing that came to his mind. The power of the medication he was on immediately began forcing his eyelids to close again, and he struggled against the strength of the morphine and other pain controllers to stay awake… ten seconds after he initially regained contact with the world of the conscious, he couldn't remember a damn thing about what happened. He could hear the muffled sounds continue, but couldn't recognize the voice… it sounded so soft and incoherent that he thought whoever it was, must have been at a distance. Nevertheless, the small movements continued, and he successfully managed to move his hand ever so slightly closer to his body. Collins had still yet to notice this movement, and his eyes remained closed as his head started pounding harder, quicker.

"Fuck! Why don't you just take me now?" he growled, intending it towards God or whatever being controlled the dynamics of the universe. True, only seconds had passed since the first movement that showed resilience and life in Angel, but that was about all the drag queen could manage, as he didn't even have a clue where he was or wasn't even tuned into anything around him – basically, he was still out of it, without a clue.

Obviously, Angel's awakening was an astonishing event and would warrant extra monitoring now that his condition was stable, yet now more vulnerable… but still, Collins hadn't noticed. Minutes passed. The younger man laid there, awake, and becoming more aware of his surroundings, when he finally could recognize the voice of his lover flow into his ears. Desperately, Angel lay there and wanted to get Collins' attention, but to no avail – he couldn't speak. He couldn't even make one squeak or sound. He could barely move. There was no pain – but almost his entire body was numb (and that definitely wasn't a bad thing, considering the alternative…)
With his eyes barely open and the blurred colours of his environment filtered in, Angel couldn't feel the dampness already formulating in his eyes… from a mixture of fatigue, fear, and not knowing what was happening around him. And he still couldn't remember what happened. Well, at only four or so minutes after opening his eyes, its understandable as to why he couldn't remember a thing or why he was so confused and barely in a mindset to communicate with anyone.

Meanwhile Collins, his mind, continued to curse and mutter under his breath… all his energy was gone now, so there wasn't much else to do except complain. The only thing was, there was no one to complain to… now he wished he had made either Roger or Mimi stay with him and give some company.

"God dammit…"

Collins opened his eyes again and exhaled the air he had, unknowingly, been holding in his lungs. Casually, he stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles and leaned back in his seat, not even thinking anymore… too much energy. Reaching over to grab the soda can sitting on the bedside table, Collins froze and his attention was snapped in Angel's direction… a flicker of the eyes!

"Angel!" he cried, leaning on the bed just enough, though remaining careful of the tubes and life support measures that were in place. He also took hold of Angel's hand, carefully, given both of them were cut up pretty badly. Please… he silently pleaded with the same higher divinity he was almost trashing seconds earlier.

"Angel! Shit… baby? You awake?"

Angel didn't respond and the flickering stopped… the movement stopped. Almost instantly, Collins' heart sank deeper than the Titanic… maybe he got his hopes up. Maybe he was just wanting Angel to live and wake up so badly, that he was beginning to see things. Maybe it was just a reflexive twitch of the nerves. Who knows? Tears welled in his eyes at the sudden excitement that rose and deflated in an instant…

"Get a grip, Tom," he scolded himself just as his throat tightened up.

Angel could barely keep his eyes open and had finally allowed his body's desires – or at least, the medication's power – take over him for that split second when he had caught Collins' attention. Great. There's nothing he wanted more than to feel Collins' lips on his own, or the warmth of his embrace… but since Angel could barely lift a finger, or understand what had happened, he was left to revel in the memories and the desires. Not even morphine could kill the memories and desires. Inside, though, he was crying – hysterically. He didn't know why; he couldn't remember why. But whatever had happened, he knew it had been bad… he just remembered choking. And blood. That's it. Angel's heart fluttered with desire – to feel Collins, and to feel the comfort, so using all the strength he could muster to break through the wall of pain killers and numbness, he strained to open his eyes just a little further. He succeeded, and more light temporarily blinded him… the longer he held onto being awake, the more difficult it became and sleep was taunting him and beckoning him closer… but then, as he was starting to gain some hold of himself to stay awake, Angel heard crying. Looking out of the corner of his eyes, he could barely see Collins sobbing into his hands…

Not being able to speak up or physically get his attention, Angel laid there with his heart wrenching at the sight… through everything, he never had felt so much pain coming from Collins as he was feeling now. He allowed his eyes to close when the force became to strong, but remained awake…

"Angel…" he heard Collins cry his name. "Baby I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

Collins looked at Angel with a look of total sadness… life destroyed. The price that had to be paid for his recklessness – his stupidity – was Angel's life… every time he screwed up, Angel ended up getting hurt or driven to the point where his whole world could collapse.

With a shaking hand, he reached over and gently touched Angel's cheek… feeling the warm skin under his thumb sent chills down his spine. All he wanted to say was about to come out now, when Angel was unconscious… he wanted it to come out when Angel could hear his voice (unbeknownst to him, Angel could at that point – but hey! He didn't know that!), but that wasn't gonna happen now.

Angel felt his touch and wanted to cry right there and then – he didn't feel angry or sad, just love.

"Angel, I shouldn't have left…" Collins confessed. He didn't know that Angel was hearing every word he was saying… maybe that was for the best, anyway. "I'm so sorry… it's my fault, baby. All this shit is my fault! I'm supposed to be in this bed, not you… not you…" blinded by his pain, he wasn't going to stop now. If it all had to come out, it had to be now.

"Baby you can't die. Not now; not after everything! I love you. Please come back, Angel… God, I'll do anything you want. I don't care if you hate me – I'll leave if you want; I won't come back! Just please hold on… hold on with everything you got. Please!"

The heart felt plea, especially the part when Collins offered to leave if he came back, thinking that Angel would blame him for everything, was like a dagger to Angel.

"It's all my fault… you shouldn't pay for it, baby. The only reason it's like this is because you loved me. Even after what I did, you still loved me… I don't know why… and…" he coughed. "I'll always love you, baby. It's all too much now. I just wanna… take you away from here, you know? I know New York is home. But it's like… the whole world already condemns us, and its like New York is doing the same now. I just wanna take you away where you can be safe, but I don't wanna take you from home… it just hurts too much now."

Collins' words echoed in his ears and were imprinted in his mind… if he did get out of this alive, there's probably not much chance he'd allow himself to be taken from New York. If it was bad here, it would be even worse anywhere else. Except maybe San Francisco or some place like that… but that wasn't the point. New York City was home. New York is where Angel belongs, but he understood what Collins was saying – and really it just made him realize why he loved this man so much. It wasn't possible, Angel thought, for him to love Collins anymore than he did… because he always loved him so much that really was worth ALL the pain and ALL the torment that he went through. No matter what, he wouldn't let Collins go again, and he would never stop loving him.

Collins lowered his head to Angel's cheek and kissed him.

"Come on, sweetie… please, hear me… please come back!"

WITH MARK AND JULIA

Pulling Julia along behind him, Mark exited the alleyway on the other side of the building, feeling just a little bit out of his league with what just happened. All the while, Julia was telling him to stop and tell what's going on; what had happened and what he was doing, etc. It wasn't safe to do that in the alleyway with Sam and Julian in the next street, so he told her that he'd explain it all once they were safe. Catching the confession on tape was an extraordinary thing, because Mark knew Sam and Julian to be meticulous in their attempts for discretion and not drawing attention to themselves. Maybe it was because Julian got caught up in the emotion of it all and had lost all self-restraint on the issue. Doesn't matter anyway, because I doubt either of them was expecting Mark to be hiding close by with his camera pointed in their direction.

"Mark!" Julia pulled her hand away and they both arrived at the main street and slowed down. She rested against the building's wall to catch her breath, as did Mark, who peered around the corner to make sure they hadn't caught Sam and Julian's attention. Luckily, everything was clear and they seemingly hadn't notice. All the while, Julia was glaring menacingly at Mark, pissed off that she was being pulled around like that and not being told what was going on.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "What was that about?"

"That," Mark breathed. "Was the first step of bringing those two assholes down."

"What!"

"I just caught a confession."

"WHAT!"

"Is that all you say?"

In disbelief, Julia's confusion bore a frowned expression on her face. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, like I'd lie about something like this," he replied sarcastically. "Now the cops are gonna have to do something…"

"What exactly did he say?"

"He said he did it. And the sick bastard actually enjoyed it!" Mark slammed his fist against the wall in a rare display of anger, but really only showed a hint of the rage that had flared up inside him. How someone could enjoy inflicting pain and watching another human being gag and struggle for every breath while he tried not to drown in his own blood, was beyond all human comprehension. Instead of getting all the rage out, Mark yelled out in pain and almost dropped his camera (and his evidence) – leaning against the wall and clutching his hand to his chest, groaning in pain, it was enough for Julia to let go of her pretenses and go to his aid.

"Idiot," she muttered and touched his arm and pulled it to her to inspect the wound. She could see a small cut had opened up and blood was spilling out. Instinctively more sensitive to her touch, Mark pulled away and resisted a little. Julia rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Come on, don't be a baby." She wouldn't have been surprised if he had broken a bone or something with the force he had punched the wall. Pouting, Mark winced and allowed her to take his hand in her own. She was gentle with the touch and saw a small bruise developing at the point of immediate impact – Julia took a few moments to carefully inspect his hand before looking back up at him. "I don't think it's broken. Wanna go to the hospital? Get it checked anyway?"

"Nah I'll live," Mark replied through gritted teeth and cringed when Julia touched the wound. "This is getting too complicated…"

"What is?" she asked, taking a small pack of tissues from her bag. Removing one and placing it to the cut and watching it soak up a bit of blood, Julia smiled sympathetically. "It'll get better, you know…"

"Not for Angel and Collins."

"I admit I don't know you all that well… except Tom… but it seems that they really love each other. They'll get through it."

"If Angel lives."

"He will."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because! I just do! Honestly, do you think he would've come through all of this alive, just to die now? I don't think God's that cruel."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "You believe in God?"

"Don't you?"

"I…" he paused. "Don't know. I guess. Doesn't seem like He's around much though…"

"Well I'm not the religious sort," Julia said. "But I guess I do believe. Gotta have something to believe in, right? You believe?"

"Oh I believe."

"In God?"

"In my friends. Love. Friendship. Pathetic, I know… but I at least can see that those things exist. God, I'm not too sure about."

Julia chuckled. There was a lot of wisdom in that notion… a lot of misconception, too. But nevertheless, given the life Mark and his friends lead, it wasn't all too surprising. "You grew up in a religious home, too right?" she guessed.

"How'd you—"

"Trust me. I know the feeling. My mom's a total catholic… when I was sixteen she found two condoms in my purse. You can imagine what happened… that's the day I was determined not to make religion the sole reason for living, you know?"

Julia let go of his hand and Mark took over nursing his wound. He looked at her with curiosity… what the hell was it about this girl?

"So what was your vice? Catholic?"

"Jewish."

"Ahh… so you understand my pain…" she smiled, charmingly. Mark couldn't resist a small laugh and shook his head in disbelief of this young woman. No wonder Collins and Julia got along so well – they were definitely alike. Both warm. Loving. Big-hearted. Loyal. Caring. And they always had the ability to make people smile no matter what… and now, in the face of Collins' pain, Julia's presence was probably more of a good, positive thing than anything else.

"Didn't think a girl like you would be carrying condoms around," Mark smirked. "Doesn't seem real… becoming of you."

"What are you saying, Mark?" she taunted back, challengingly.

"Nothing! Nothing at all!"

His smile fading, Mark looked around at the bustling environment – people going about their daily business, not having a care for anything other than what they were supposed to be doing. Then, a thought dawned on him as he remembered an event that had happened almost two years earlier… something that had brought New York attention to the East Village, all thanks to Maureen. The protest. The riot. An idea presented itself that could turn out to be very useful…

"Let's go…" he told her, not thinking about it as he grabbed her hand and gently pulled her in the direction of the loft.

"Where?"

"I need to make a phone call."

"To who?"

"No one you know."

BACK WITH COLLINS AND ANGEL

The sobs were painful for Angel to have to listen to… he wanted to shake Collins by the shoulders or slap him, or do something to shut him up. Well… there were also a lot of other things he wanted to do to him, if you know what I mean, but uh… that would require a bit of physical rehabilitation. Instead, he had to lay there and be mercilessly subjected to the pain that was felt by the man he adored – he hated it! Once again he worked up the strength to open his eyes and that's when he really saw the pain that Collins was feeling – tears streaming down his lover's face one right after the other, in rivers of emotion that dripped onto the blankets and onto his arm.

"Angel…" Collins continued to sob uncontrollably and then rested his head lightly on Angel's stomach. "Please wake up. At least… at least let me tell you how much I love you… at least let me know that you know that. Any sign… give me anything. Please!"

Angel couldn't take anymore… the medication, the numbness, and the fatigue not withstanding, he forced himself to lift one hand just enough to bring it across his body (mind you, this one act was taking a hell of a lot out of him), and lightly, he placed his hand on Collins' head, stroking just behind his ear. Collins looked up, startled at the sudden touch, and his eyes widened with shock when he saw Angel's eyes barely open and staring sadly down at him. Shaking badly, he sat up and touched Angel's cheek again, not sure if this was real… if he was really awake.

"A—Angel?" he stuttered, confused and stunned.

Angel couldn't move his head or make any sound, but he continued to stare into Collins' eyes – though everything was blurred and not clear at all, he just stared sadly. He couldn't even managed a smile, as breathing tubs were stuck in his throat and the numbness surrounding his throat and mouth was something that was not to be overcome. Giving the fact that he had just come out of surgery only some two hours earlier, the fact that he was awake now was an extraordinary thing… since he had been doped up enough to keep him out for the rest of the day and night.

Collins let his fingers glide over Angel's lips, up to his eyes which he could see were wet with tears and an acute sadness in which Collins had never seen in his boyfriend before. Basically, it was like a sledgehammer to the heart.

"Angel…" he whispered. "My Angel… oh God… baby… you… you're awake!"

Again, no smile. No physiological reaction… just those beautiful eyes. After everything they had been through together, Angel just has to give him that one look to settle the pain in him, and Collins knew that all was forgiven – that there was no hate. Collins leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips, not knowing whether or not Angel could actually feel it – but he did.

WITH MARK AND JULIA

Shifting her weight back and forth on each leg, Julia impatiently stood on one of the steps that led to the loft, just feet away from where Mark was making a phone call at the phone booth. Apparently he had a good idea about something – something he wouldn't share with her, but he was psyched about it… a little too excited regarding something that was so dangerous and sad. However, he seemed amazingly self-assured about it and she watched him punch in a number from which he had read off a scrunched up scrap piece of paper he had pulled from his pocket.

"Are you ever gonna tell me what you're doing?" she asked, lazily. "You know, I was supposed to be heading to the hospital to see Collins. This little detour isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Shh."

"Oh 'Shh' yourself."

Mark gave her a look that was saying for her to shut up while he did his thing. Whatever he was doing, it was serious. For Mark, it seemed like a brilliant solution to a situation which didn't have many likeable solutions, something that Julia wouldn't yet be able to understand but which he'd explain to her when he was done. Turning back to face the phone itself, Mark impatiently drummed on the side of it with his fingers. Then, after around five or six rings, someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Alexi Darling?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, hi," he proceeded cautiously. "It's Mark Cohen."

"Mark!" Alexi squealed with unusual excitement when she learned who it was. She had been working to get him to sign a contract in which he always strongly resisted now… he wasn't about to sell out to anyone. But maybe – just maybe­ – there would be some use in Alexi's journalistic expertise for what he wanted to do… the media could be a very useful medium at time and this could be something that may require the use of a media projection.

"Mark Cohen? So wonderful to hear from you! How've you been?"

"Um… getting by—"

"GOOD! Good, that's good to hear. I'm sorry, but after our last conversation I didn't think I'd be hearing from you again…"

"Trust me, neither did I," he muttered under his breath. The look on his face caused Julia to stifle a laugh that caught in her throat.

"What?" she didn't catch that last part.

"Nothing. Uh, look, I need to ask a favour…"

"A favour?" she sounded perplexed, to say the least.

"Yeah. Is there any chance we could meet up today, at the Life Café?"

"Well, I… don't know. Why? What's up?"

"It's something I think will be better discussed in person. Can you make it?"

Alexi frowned, and flipped through her day planner that was lying open on her desk. Mark, in her mind, was a talent she couldn't pass up – his footage of the riot was amazing and since then she has been trying to convince him to work for her network. Like I said, Mark and all of them were firmly opposed to selling out to anyone… but this may be a time that calls for it.

"I guess I could squeeze you in. The Life Café, you say?"

"Yeah. It's important."

"Well… okay, okay. Sure! I'll be there!"

"Great. One hour."

Without waiting for her to say anything, and definitely not saying 'goodbye', Mark slammed down the phone and turned to see Julia give him a knowingly look.

"What?"

"Who was that? An ex-girlfriend?" she queried.

Why would she care?

"No! God no! Why do you ask?" Mark felt like slapping her for that remark, as bad as it sounds.

"The look on your face. Like you swallowed acid or something."

"Ha, ha," he replied. "You're funny."

"Oh I know."

"Bitch."

"Uh-huh! So who is she?"

"Does it matter?"

"You sound bitter…"

He rolled his eyes and started walking away. "You coming?"

"Oh come on! You're not mad!" she called after him, standing her ground and folding her arms in front of her.

"Yeah, yeah!" he didn't turn around and Julia pouted before running to catch up with him. Things were about to get a lot more interesting, that much she knew for sure.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: In the next chapter, Mark meets up with Alexi. He then finds Roger and confides in him of this new development which all of them vow to keep secret from Collins for the time being. Julia and Mark become closer. Collins is confronted by one of his superiors from MIT and is given an ultimatum… forcing him to do something, in which he turns into the ultimate act of love.