DESTROYED

Chapter 33 – FINAL CHAPTER

SUMMARY: Well, well, well… here we are at the final chapter. Seems like so long ago, doesn't it? sigh. Well, no time for reminiscing because it's time to hit the final chapter. Yes, there will be two deaths in this chapter; a double whammy, so to speak. Tying up loose ends is the purpose now. No hints here, you just gotta read. Okay, one hint. It involves Collins angst. Trust me, I'm really gonna screw with you all this chapter. Lol. Muahaha! I am evil! I wanna go out with a BANG! Woohoo!

Note: I brought in 'I'll Cover You' for this chapter, too. I thought it would be appropriate. And as a disclaimer, 'I'll Cover You' was created by Mr. Jonathan Larson (God rest his soul), and passed on to his estate upon his death.

Warning – sex scenes are in this chapter, nothing graphic, but obvious implications may be uncomfortable for some readers. You have been warned. Now, READ ON! Woot! Woot!

7 MONTHS LATER

It had been three hours since everyone left, and still he couldn't move… he couldn't bring himself to put one step forward, or one step back, because either way he knew it was over. After everything they had gone through together, it had to end now in the very way both thought it was gonna end from the start. Everything, for the past seven months, had been absolutely amazing as life suddenly started meaning something to them both and now this happened, which, lets be honest, was bound to happen sooner or later anyway. The graying skies reflected the darkness of the day's events, as did the state of his heart and knowing that never again would he feel his lover's embrace… those sweet, tender kisses… the passionate lovemaking…. The warmth of their love would never again be resonated back to him and never again would they have the connection when their eyes met.

Standing on the damp ground, letting the rain droplets fall around him; fall on him… on the coat he had been bought by his lover. Collins was stone faced, staring at the casket with not so much as another blink; not one movement. His life had died with Angel, through the torments of the disease that ravaged both of them, though the young drag queen, a real angel on earth, was called back Home. These past seven months had been so magical as they rekindled their lost love and made up for the four months they spent apart – those four months when both of them thought they were lost without the other and now it was permanent. Collins would never again see the smile on his lover's face, the smile that would light up his whole day and make life so much easier to deal with. Now, seven months of intense rehabilitation for Angel brought them that much more together, inseparable… Mark had told him about the letters and photos, and told everyone of his little visit to see Sam about three months after he burned said possessions, and yes they were pissed. But Collins was grateful. For some reason, he wouldn't have been able to deal with burning his past with Sam… it would've been too difficult, despite what Sam had become. Angel's broken spirit was gradually healed, and in the last two months of his life… everything was perfect again. The torturous year was behind them, and every second of every minute of every day was a blessed one… never had so much love been known, the purity of it unmatched in every way. The family of friends were closer than ever, and Angel's death was not a sudden thing… they had seen it coming for the past two weeks, including Collins and Angel. They knew their time was limited. Angel had told him…

"Baby, it's okay…" Angel said between coughs, lying in Collins' arms he reached up and brushed the tears from his lover's face with the back of his hand. There was little he could do to calm the professor, even as the life was draining from his dying body, Angel still had the glow of life that could calm even the saddest of people. Collins held Angel closer, wrapping his arms around Angel's slender waist and kissed his forehead, the sobs aching his body. The tears were now so painful.

"Tom… sweetie?" Angel sat up and turned just enough so he could stare into Collins' darkened eyes. Angel stroked his face, letting his fingers glide over his lover's eyes, down his nose, and across his lips… those soft lips. Angel kissed them again, savoring every second so he could take that taste of Collins to the next life, where he would always wait. Collins returned the kiss, and deepened it. He then gently turned so he could lay Angel down properly on the bed, not breaking off the kiss, their tongues exploring every part of their mouths; and the passion heated up.

Angel put his arms around Collins' body, his finger tips digging lightly into his lover's back, arching his own so that he was in perfect alignment with Collins. Feeling the weight of the man he loved pushing down on him, Angel then slid one of his hand up Collins' back and placed it at the back of his neck, while Collins continued to lovingly subdue him in return. Angel was determined to really live until the end, and that included lovemaking and giving Collins every bit of strength he could muster so that their physical relationship would end on such a high note, that there was no possible way they could be separated by death, like their souls were being tied together, joining together in unity forever. Therefore, when it would be time for Collins to cross as well, Angel would be waiting for him… forever would he wait. The drag queen then wrapped his leg around Collins', wanting to be as close to him as possible, and the man responded by pushing him self further onto Angel; they were both swept up in the throws of passion and desire so intense that they could go on forever.

"Collins," Angel breathed heavily, breaking the kiss suddenly, but that didn't deter Collins, who proceeded to plant kisses all over Angel's face, moving to his ear. He then started gently nibbling on it, sending sparks down Angel's spine, whose eyes widened and he let out a sharp moan of desire and pleasure. Collins was the most intense and beautiful lover he ever had and it showed when they displayed their love for each other in such intimate times as this. This was ever more special as it would be one of the last times they would be able to do this, for as the disease began to take a strangle hold on Angel's life, so too would it diminish his abilities to physically show Collins his love. Collins was intensifying this time with each kiss becoming more sensual, as he knew just the right places that would really push Angel's buttons.

"Baby… you okay?" Angel tried desperately to get Collins to focus for one second. Collins stopped what he was doing and looked up.

"Hmm?"


Angel smiled down at him, Collins seeing his eyes sparkle in the light provided only by a small lamp at the side of the bed. He smiled back and Angel cupped his face in his hands, gently keeping Collins' head just next to his and their noses touched. "I love you, sweetie, so much," Angel told him. "We gotta talk about this…"

"Angel, there's nothing more to talk about," Collins replied sadly. "I know. I know. I'm okay. I just wanna make every second count for you, that's all…"

"The lovemaking is beautiful, darling, but… can we just lay in each other's arms for a while? I just wanna breathe the moment…"

Collins' smile didn't falter, but grew bigger and he nodded, kissing Angel again before moving off him. Angel turned onto his side and slid an arm over Collins' chest, and started tracing circles along his dark skin, and kissed just next to Collins' nipple. The professor in return held his arm around Angel's waist, stroking his lower back. Their naked bodies pressed firmly together with no intention of breaking apart, and silence overtook them for a bit. Seconds passed. Minutes. After around fifteen minutes of silence, and staring at the dark ceiling, Collins looked down to see Angel still staring up at the ceiling, looking somewhat confused or overwhelmed by something. He kissed his young lover who had faced so much this past year and together they pushed through it all, prevailing together with no regrets. Well, a few… but they were practically forgotten, and both refused to look back – only forward, to the future. Being so close to the end, where they could literally enough see and feel death approaching like a freight train, it was terrifying that they may not be together for a long time. But Angel promised he'd wait an eternity just to feel Collins' lips on his own once more, though he had come into acceptance more quickly than his lover – after all, he had no choice. Collins would be the one who'd have to face the rest of his life alone, not Angel, and Angel couldn't imagine what that would have to be like. He had his experiences with Nicholas and Erica, but with Collins… well, this was just gonna be one hell of a separation anxiety complex, to say the least. Even in death, Angel would not be at peace (he thought) until he had his Collins with him again.

"Collins?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I…" Angel closed his mouth so he could choke back down the lump forming in his throat. Oh God, not more tears. "I want you to… to love again, you know? I mean, if you find someone—"

"Angel," Collins sighed, shaking his head. They've had this discussion before. "We've talked about this. No one else will ever take my heart, not from you…"

"But--!"

"No buts. Angel, it won't be easy to let you go. And I won't …"

Angel decided not to pursue this conversation further, knowing that Collins knew his position, but because he didn't wanna talk about it, Angel didn't want to ruin the mood. There was no more time for fighting about these kinds of things, and a part of him was relieved with Collins' determines to stay faithfully, even through death and the separation. The only solace either of them could take was that it probably wouldn't be too long before Collins would join him in the afterlife, though Angel wanted him to live a long life and love the world as he did. He had made Collins promise that following his death, that he would not grow bitter and hate-filled… that he'd try to live and love life as best he could, and that they would be together again.
Angel sat up a little and moved so he was lying on top of Collins, who was slightly shocked at this sudden change in position. Without another word spoken, Angel started kissing him and pressing his body hard against Collins', knowing it wouldn't take too much to get him aroused and in the mood for some hot lovin'. Collins needed no coaxing and in an instant he had rolled Angel over onto his back so he was in the controlling position of being on top, which was really the way they liked it, he pinned Angel's arms above his head and kissed him forcefully. Their breathing became deeper and more ragged as Collins moved his kisses down Angel's jaw line, down his neck and over the still very visible scar from when his throat was cut, and moved further down until he was lying comfortably between his lover's legs. He then let go of Angel's wrists and placed his hands at the sides of Angel's hips, while kissing his chest, down his sternum and very erotically let his tongue tease and play with his nipples. He heard Angel let out another gasp, a confirmation that he was doing the right thing, and proceeded to do what he was doing. He could feel Angel's excitement against his skin, another confirmation of his wonderful abilities to get him worked up, and Collins smirked. At that moment, all fears and urges he had to cry over Angel's impending death had now disappeared, to be replaced with the desire to satisfy Angel to the very last moment.

Remembering that night that took place only two weeks before Angel's death, a tear finally escaped the hardened eyes that had clouded over any ability for someone to try reach out to Collins. Angel's dark brown casket sat there, under the tent to protect it from the rain; the flowers already beginning to wilt and die, as if they knew how disturbingly depressing this place was, the nature of their decorative value was nothing short of sadness. The others had tried to convince him to come home, before he fell sick, but he didn't reply. He didn't move. He didn't do anything that would suggest he even noticed them, let alone heard there pleas.

"Why?" he whispered, not knowing who to. Probably God. If He had noticed. "Why my Angel? Why now? After everything…" he then stepped forward and knelt down at the casket, and burst into tears. He couldn't hold it any longer.

"Angel," he sobbed; his heart literally hurting from the stress it was under. "My Angel… baby, I can't do this… it's not fair…"

The rain started falling harder now, and still he was unfazed by it, or the distant rumbling of thunder that signaled the onset of the storm. It was growing colder, and darker, but Collins had no intention of going anywhere just yet. For as soon as he would leave, that casket would be lowered into the ground and it truly would be over… Collins wasn't ready to let his Angel go.

"Tom…" Angel had weakly, from his hospital bed, beckoned his lover to come forth, and Collins was at his side in a microsecond. He held Angel's hand tightly, and kissed him.


"Baby, I'm here… I'm here, Ang." He could tell Angel was started to leave him… the vivacious street drummer was sweating, and he had lost vision in his left eye. He was trembling and weak, and could barely string together coherent sentences or have the energy to talk at all. Everyone was in the room. Mimi, Roger, Mark, Maureen, Joanne, and even Benny… Angel wanted them all there in his final moments, though he chose to be lost in this moment with Collins. He inspected his lover to see Collins tearing up and shaking badly, so he managed to give him a loving, comforting smile as he stroked his cheek.

"My love," Angel cooed, remaining as strong as he could. "Don't cry… don't be sad… our separation's only temporary, it won't last... we'll be together again…"

Collins opened his mouth to say something, but Angel shook his head.

"Shh, honey, Shh… it's okay. Don't say anything, I know… I've loved you every second I've known you… and that love it won't die, you understand me? My body has expired, my love, it can't go on… but our love, what we have… it'll always be with you. And I'll wait forever and a day, baby. Forever." Angel was amazingly gifted at easing other people's pain, including his own sometimes, with the words of comfort he spoke, and Collins' heart began to ease a little, but the pain still lingered so badly. Mimi grabbed Roger's arm, who then embraced her, to keep from collapsing with grief, and Angel looked over to them.

"You're all the loves of my life… I don't know what I did to deserve the gift God gave me… he gave me all of you. Even you, Benny," he added with a touch of humour. "No one else has given me more pleasure to torment then you. And that poor dog of yours."

Benny chuckled through his tears, and Maureen put her arm around his waist, and the other one linked with Joanne's arm. Angel then winked at them. "I love you. All of you. And I've been so lucky… so blessed… to have you all in my life… and I'm not going anywhere, I'll never leave you okay? Never." Angel then turned his attention back to Collins, who was barely holding himself together. Angel was slipping further away.

"Oh honey," Angel kissed him. "Honey it's okay, you know? Everything will be okay… we'll be together again, you'll see… Everything we went through this year, it was all worth it. Your love kept me alive for longer than I should've been, and not a day went by I didn't thank God for you. You're my everything. My star in the heavens. My heart. My soul, it's you baby. I want you to live, okay? Live for me…live for us… live for our friends… and we'll be together again, I've never broken a promise to you my love, and I promise you… we're not ending." Collins couldn't contain the sobs anymore and he shook his head… this couldn't happen. Not now.


"Angel—" he started.

"Shh," Angel hushed him, pressing his index finger to Collins' lips to silence him, and winced as it got harder to speak. "Shh. Don't say anything. Whatever it is, Collins, I know it… don't speak. Do one thing for me though, okay? When it's all over… I wanna be buried with this," he reached over to the side table, but when he couldn't reach what he was looking for, Collins did it for him and picked up a photograph. It was of them all, on Christmas 1989. When Angel saw his confusion, he added, "I wanna take all of you with me… this will do… you'll make sure I take it with me, right?"

Collins wanted to protest and beg Angel to keep fighting, but it was useless. Angel was in the final stages of his life, at 24 years old, he was dying and they would be parted for God knows how long. He nodded and clutched the photo close to his chest.

"Angel…" he cried. "My Angel… I love you."

Angel gave him the most charming smile he could and winked again. "I'll be seeing ya later… I love you. I love you. I love you."

Collins gave him one last passionate kiss, the last time he would feel Angel respond to him, and when he pulled away, he opened his eyes and gasped. Angel's eyes had closed and he wasn't moving. He had gone.

A week later was Angel's funeral, and he was dressed in his most beautiful dress he had made him self, and Collins had made sure the photo went in with his lover just before they closed the casket, the final time he would ever see her. It was now pouring with rain, and Collins was drenched, but he still wasn't going to leave his Angel… the past week had been so surreal, and that first night sleeping was a nightmare, and he couldn't sleep in the same bed he had been in with Angel for so long. To not feel him beside him each night was excruciating. He kissed the casket. Two cemetery workers started to approach him, as visiting times were now over, but stopped when they saw him kneeling next to the casket. It was a truly heart-wrenching sight to be witnessing, and the workers often saw grief-stricken people given the place they worked at, but something about this guy was really sad. For Collins the world had ended. For everyone else, it was just another day.

Collins sobbed, resting his head on the end of the casket, wishing he could see his beloved just one last time before having to meet him in the next life. Angel was gone. The only thing that comforted Collins was the knowledge that Angel was no longer suffering, and he was safe. He couldn't be hurt again.

"Angel… Angel… Angel… my Angel…" he cried, blinded by anguish, and a small part of him hoping that Angel could hear him and would come back to him. What he had put Angel through was coming back to haunt him, wishing that they had those four months together instead of what happened.

"Sir?"

Collins jumped when he heard another voice, an unfamiliar one, behind him and he turned around to see a young man, around his age, standing there with another man both watching him with concern.

"Sir… are you okay? It's really pouring out here…"

"I'm fine," he muttered and stood up, wiping the dirt and water from his face, but it was a pathetic try as rain continued to beat down on him, and the weather picked up even more force.

"Sir, the cemetery visiting hours are now over, I'm so sorry… I—"

"I get it," Collins muttered and still didn't look at them, keeping his eyes on the casket… on his Angel. "Give me a few minutes."

The two men glanced at each other. "Sure," the second guy agreed and gave his colleague a light punch on the shoulder, silently telling him to back off and they started walking away, again leaving Collins alone to mourn. Angel had made him promise that he wouldn't be like this, and this was one promise that even he knew his lover wouldn't be able to keep. But it seemed like a good promise at the time, trying to comfort each other and prepare each other for the inevitable. Death. Everything had fallen apart again and only recently had things turned worse. Samuel had been acquitted of attempted murder after the police fucked up their investigation. He was out on the streets after serving three months for a probation offence. Julian had been convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and attempted murder in the first degree, regarding the second attack on Angel in the hospital. Angel, Collins, and Mark all had to testify in court (Mark about catching the confession on tape, and suffered a harsh cross examination by the defense attorneys who grilled him on his decision to send the tape to the media instead of the cops). For Angel, he broke down so many times, yet at other times seemed perfectly fine… even cheery. Collins had been angry. His anger was completely visible, and was cross examined about his relationship with Angel, cheating on Angel with Sam, and his relationship with Sam… it was intense and harsh. And then Sam got acquitted… that was three months ago. Since then, he disappeared and none of the family of friends heard from him since, which was obviously a good thing, and Angel seemed to be dealing with it very well, though Collins remained cautious. And then of course, Julia… she was convicted of conspiracy to commit murder after she turned herself into the police, and naturally the rest of the gang were totally shocked. Especially Mark… he was devastated, understandably, and locked himself in the bathroom for two days and didn't come out. How could he be so stupid? Julia? That was hell for him.

And right now, all of this stress was the only things he could think of when it came to thinking of the possibilities as to why the disease decided to take Angel now. Angel had been under a lot of stress, a factor that contributes to the speeding up of the effects of the virus. But if Angel had been stressed, he never showed it… he became bright and bubbly again, thankful to be back in the arms of the one he loved and still have his friends to have fun with. Dancing around the loft with Maureen, or trying on new outfits of whacky and original designs with Mimi, or posing in front of the camera for Mark, or sitting on the floor listening to Roger play the songs he was able to finally write. Now, all of that didn't matter because Angel was dead while that punk Sammy AND Julian were both alive. Julian had, though, received a twenty-five to life sentence, while Julia was sentenced to ten years. Collins had made the effort to visit her once a week, but those visits had now turned into once every two weeks. Now that Angel was dead, he didn't see himself going back anytime soon, not because of her, but she'd just bring back up too many painful memories that he just didn't want.

"Angel…" he whispered, leaning down to touch the casket again. Angel's body would surely rot away at the same rate as any other human body going through the stages of decomposition, and it was an image that terrified Collins, though he couldn't erase it from his head. Angel's dead body wasting away to nothing. His eyes drying up. His soft lips turning to dust. His sweetly, silky Latino skin hardening and then falling apart. His organs bloating and then shriveling into nothing. And finally… Angel's physical being would become nothing.

"Baby… you have no idea what you've done to me, do you?" he bit his lip though smiled a little. "Everything… everything about you… you made me whole again. And… with you gone Home… and Sam walking free… I just don't get it, you know?" his throat constricted as he spoke, forcing him to stop for a brief moment. "I don't know what to do anymore… I thought that without you, I would be frozen. That the world would disappear, but it hasn't! Everything continues as normal – nothing happened. But for me, my whole world died with you and nothing fucking matters anymore." Collins stopped again and looked around, the rain limited his distance vision considerably. He took a step back.

"I love you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice shaky and his bottom lip quivering. He was shivering very badly in the cold and had to get inside before he got sick. "I'll always loves you… I'll see you later." After placing another kiss on the casket, he walked backwards a few feet, his eyes still locked on the where his lover lay. It was so hard to turn away, because it would mean that Collins would have to take those next real steps alone. Taking a deep breath before letting out a couple of sharp coughs, Collins wrapped his jacket around him tighter and closed his eyes and turned away. Once he was sure he was facing in the opposite direction from where Angel's freshly dug grave, he opened his eyes and exhaled and started walking. But he only got a few feet when he froze. There, standing not twenty feet away from him, was Samuel Michaels. Collins' heart started beating faster and faster, bashing itself against his ribs with so much force he actually grabbed at his chest and winced at the pain it was causing him. Sam was equally as nervous, and hesitated before stepping forward. The look on Collins' face was a mix of surprise, anger, confusion, betrayal and just total bewilderment, so it really didn't give Sam any comfort to what he was doing.

"Tom…" Sam tried to smile and keep things cool between them. "Hey… how you doing?"

No response. Sam shifted his weight.

"I um… I… I thought this was where you'd be."

Still nothing.

"How… how you holding up?"

Blank stare.

"I, uh," Sam broke eye contact. How could he look this man in the eyes now? His love for Collins knew no bounds, and now Angel was dead… as cold as it sounds, Sam wanted to be the one who lent him the shoulder to cry on. Yeah, like that was gonna happen. As fucked up as he was, Sam was still as narcissistic and selfish as always… and right now, was tripping on crack. The world was blurry, true, but only Collins' face was clear… the only clear image in his head. Was it the love? Or the crack? Fuck it, it was a mix of both. Sam staggered forward a bit, and almost lost his footing so he leaned against the side of a tree to maintain his balance.

Collins didn't know what to do. Attack him? No. That would solve nothing and wouldn't bring Angel back… besides, the place wasn't exactly conducive to settling old scores. He didn't want to hurt him. But he also did not want to be around him. At the risk of leaving a fucked up Samuel Michaels in close proximity to Angel's open, vulnerable grave and casket, where it could be desecrated and Angel could be violated in some way, Collins walked by him and felt his feet become heavier and heavier, like lead. Sam turned to watch him and suddenly felt depressed. This wasn't gonna be easy.

"Tommy!"

"What!" Collins yelled and turned around, giving a quick frustrated flail of his arms to signal is frustration. "What is it, Sammy? What the fuck do you want from me?" he was just giving up now. It wasn't worth the fight. Angel was dead. Nothing mattered anymore. Life was fucking over for him. Sam approached him… well, staggered towards him. Collins didn't step back or attempt to put distance between them, because he just didn't care… and so he didn't care what happened now. The rain belted down, blinding them both to everything else but each other. Sam and Collins stood toe to toe.

"Tom… I'm sorry about Angel…"

Collins burst out laughing, with more than a hint of sarcasm evident. "Oh fuck!" he clasped his hands behind his neck and stretched. "Man, when you're good, you're GOOD!" he viciously taunted and turned his back to him again. Sam rolled his eyes and casually fingered the item he had hidden in his jacket – he was trying to reach out to his ex, and he was getting his efforts thrown back in his face? True, he did try to kill Angel on more than one occasion, but right now, because he was tripping, Sammy felt a little offended that his efforts weren't being treated with respect. After everything he had done to try prove his love to Collins, there was just no appreciation!

"Collins, come on! Can't we talk?"

"Talk! Three fucking years, Sammy and now you wanna talk?" Collins screamed through the harshness of the rain, and he didn't want to deal with Sam's bullshit anymore. What more did he have left to live for? His past kept coming back to haunt him even though Angel's dead, and it hurts too bad for him to give a shit anymore.

"What the fuck do you wanna say to me? The jury let you off, you WON! Okay? Angel's dead, and you're free! What more do you want from me?" Collins cried angrily, the last few words wavering with emotion, and Sam was silenced there and then. Collins was crying, though his tears couldn't be distinguished from the rain drops that rolled down his face… but Sam could see he was crying. The ex-lovers were staring each other down in the cemetery, only hours following Angel's funeral… there was no hate in either's eyes. Just anger. For entirely different reasons – Collins was angry that Angel was dead, not that Sam had the nerve to show up (he didn't care what Sam did now). Sam was angry that after everything he had done, none of it seemed to make one fucking bit of difference when it came to getting the love back from Collins, whom he still adored. But Collins was too pissed to back off now.

"I don't give a fuck WHAT YOU DO!" Collins screamed, and the rain just seemed to pound harder and harder, making it hard to see and hear. "I don't care anymore, Samuel! Seven months ago I would've loved to see you fucking rotting in the street, but now I couldn't really CARE LESS," he then started pacing back and forth, before he abandoned that and stormed over to Sam, took him by the shoulders and shook him hard.

"You have the nerve to show up on the day of my love's funeral? Fuck, Sammy! What'd you think was gonna happen? Julia is rotting in jail because of what you dragged her into! And you know what? I can't keep fighting you anymore, Sam! I can't keep hating you, I don't have the energy for it anymore, and I just want to FORGET you! I can't keep doing his, it's just not worth it… Angel's dead. And I might as well be, because the pain in my heart is something you could NEVER know about!" his voices was strained through the loud noise of the thunder and the rain. Sam glared.

"Whatever. You don't have the first clue about me—"

"Exactly!" Collins interrupted, with a slight maniacal glint. "I don't know you. I never did! And it took a hell of a lot to make me realize how much I wish I didn't know you. You're scum, Sam. You're nothing. I gave you everything and you destroyed it! Angel was my soul… the love he and I shared is more love than you could hope to feel in ten lifetimes!" Collins got even close to Sam, not releasing him from his vice-like grip. "You're inhuman, Sam," he spoke low. "You kill life. You know NOTHING of creating it… creating love… Angel was my world. I breathed him. I tasted him. I existed within him and he did with me and there's nothing you can say or do that will EVER get me to see you as anything but shit." Collins was angry for different reasons, and he had no trouble with putting it all on Sam, since Sam was really the cause of it all. Finally, he released his grip on the younger man, and Sam winced at the pain of being held so hard and was quickly feeling the rage. Anger, apparently, was transferable. No longer able to look at his ex without feeling the urge to throw up, Collins turned and walked away. It's not worth it anymore, was the only thing he could think. But Sam wasn't going to let him walk away the 'winner' again… he wasn't gonna let Collins get the better of him ever again. So, acting on a whim, he pulled out the gun out of his jacket pocket and started off after Collins who had his back to him. Sam was crying hysterically at this point and he was shaking badly… suddenly he had no control, and the fear was almost paralyzing though he pushed through it with relative ease because of the drugs releasing all his inhibitions and the drugs did, as Collins said, made him inhuman. A disgusting quality he would probably never be rid of. As he gained a faster pace, he approached Collins who still didn't turn back, apparently not noticing that he was being followed. Sam raised the gun and stopped, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Collins!" he called, tearfully. Collins stopped and sighed, dejectedly. He turned around. Big mistake. He barely had a chance to register that a deadly weapon was being pointed in his direction, when Sam pulled the trigger. Collins screamed when a fiery pain ripped through his stomach, and stumbled back, falling onto his back. Sam took one look at what he did and dropped the gun and sank to the ground, sobbing. He then crawled over to Collins who was already bleeding profusely and crying in pain… blood was covering him, and also seeping from his mouth. A kind of serene expression overtook him and he stared up at Sam in disbelief, and tried to speak but Sam had to lean down to hear what he was saying. The pain was excruciating and darkness was ensuing, everything was swirling and Collins then knew he was dying… right there, on the day of Angel's funeral… he was dying.

"Collins, baby I'm so sorry!" Sam screamed through the rain, but Collins could not hear him. Instead, he gazed up in the sky, muttering and battling the pain.

"A—" he choked, coughing up blood and groaning, clutching his stomach. Blood was everywhere, being diluted by the rain and tears, blood, and rain covered him. "A..A… Angel… Angel…." He looked at Sam, who was screaming something, but he was mute. Collins could hear nothing.

"An—Ang--- Angel… Angel… Angel…"

"ANGEL!" Collins screamed and bolted upright, panting heavily and his eyes frantically darted around the room in confusion. Wait a minute? What the hell was going on? Where am I? his mind screamed, demanding answers that were obviously hidden and even cryptic. What was going on here? Why couldn't he feel anything? Where was the pain? The blood? Sam? The cemetery? Collins was hyperventilating and started struggling, frantically flailing about in his panic, not knowing what was going on or what was happening. It took about thirty seconds of this before he realized something… he was in his bedroom! It was dark, and the only light there was came from the bedside lamp… noise was thumping from behind the closed door, and everything was still spinning. What was going on? Was it all just a dream? Everything seemed so real, what… the images of Angel's funeral were so much real that it was hard for Collins to make that determination whether it actually happened or not. Oh fuck.

"Collins, man!" a familiar voice came from his side, and then he felt an arm around his shoulders. A slightly more in-tune Collins looked up to see Mark sitting next to the bed staring at him intently, with so much worry and concern evident in his body language and face. Next to Mark, Roger and Mimi were the only other ones in the room and they had identical expressions on their faces, and Mimi covered her mouth to stop herself from crying out. Collins looked so distraught and stressed out, this wasn't doing any good for his health.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Tom, calm down!" Mark tried desperately to tame that wild look in Collins eyes who looked so terrified it was scaring them all! Collins was in bed, but got onto his knees and was trembling so badly that he almost collapsed back down again, and Roger rushed to his side, so Collins grabbed onto both him and Mark for support.

"What's going on!" he demanded and licked his lips, wanting answers right now. Mimi stepped forward.

"Um, Collins, honey you okay? You passed out for some reason… you like totally freaked for no reason and passed out, I—" she made an attempt to explain, but Collins wasn't listening. Obviously.

"It was a dream?" he whispered. "A dream?"

Mark looked up at the others, very concerned that Collins had indeed snapped. All that time he was unconscious, he was sobbing and calling out Angel's name and something about Sam. Why, he had no idea because it had been seven months and Sam had been convicted of two counts of attempted murder in the first degree, rape in the second degree, and assault in the first degree. He had been sentenced to life in prison, Collins, Angel and all of them were there the day he and Julian were sentenced – they both got life without parole. Why Collins was stressing about it now was beyond him. Julia had received a five year sentence for her role, in which she received a suspended sentence for her cooperation and testimony. Things had been getting back on track… and now this happened. Collins crawled off the bed and stood up, stumbling a little, but quickly regained his balance.

"I'm okay?" he physically inspected himself, not feeling any pain. "He didn't get me… he didn't get me…" Roger, Mark, and Mimi looked at each other knowing how bad this was getting. Collins, for some reason, could not remember what happened. Whatever he had been dreaming, it must've been pretty real, and it was. For Collins, it had been so real… from the moment he lost Angel, to the funeral, to getting shot! I mean what the hell was up with that?

"Whoa, shit..." Roger rounded the bed so he was on the other side of it, and stood with Collins. "Collins, what's going on? Who didn't get you?"

"Sam!" Collins screamed. "He was there… he was at the cemetery after Angel's funeral, it was a dream… he shot me!" his heart stopped. Angel. Fuck. Before any of his friends had a chance to react, he bolted to the door and threw it open, and was met with loud music and people dancing. People from the neighborhood. Fellow bohemians. A party. "ANGEL!" he shouted, pushing his way through the people, trying to find his lover. He didn't know what part of that dream, that nightmare was based on reality and his experiences, and what part was an inner working of his mind. Was Angel dead? Where the hell was he?

After getting no initial response, he became even more high strung. Yes, it may seem like he had snapped, and he really had… but he honestly did not know where reality and imagination had drawn their lines. What happened? What made him pass out. As he frantically continued his search for his lover, or for ANY answers that could put him at ease, or at least let him know the truth. He was crying hysterically, but no one seemed to notice over the music.

"COLLINS!"

He turned around to see Maureen bound over to him and launch herself into his arms, kissing him and giggling.

"You woke up, honey! Welcome back to the land of the living."

"What happened?" He yelled. "Why did I pass out, what happened!"

"WHAT!"

"WHY DID I PASS OUT!"

Maureen paused. "You don't remember?"

"No!"

"You hit your head, darling! You were pissed off at Mark for sticking his little camera in your face and you fell over and knocked your head on the wall. Roger and Mark had to, like, carry you back to your room!" she explained. Collins was pretty sure she said some other things, but he couldn't hear her. As we all know Maureen, she has a short attention span so almost immediately something else had grabbed her attention and she bounced off to whatever it was. Collins resumed his search, just wanting to know where his Angel was.

"ANGEL!" he screamed, reaching the front door. "ANGEL!"

Angel was no where in sight. Collins was hysterical not knowing either way what happened; having little memory and not knowing what was true and what was false. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, he opened the front door and ran out into the main corridor, catching himself against the hand rail at the top of the stairs, catching his breath in between sobs. Everything wasn't making sense anymore and it was difficult to see anything straight. He had to get out of here. Something in the back of his head was telling him that Angel was in fact dead, he didn't know what it was… Angel would never leave a party and would never disappear without telling anyone, and Roger, Mark, Mimi, and Maureen would've told him if Angel wasn't here… however he didn't actually give him a chance to explain.

"Air," he gasped, fanning himself to incite some cool air over his face. Not getting what he needed, he grabbed the hand railing of the next flight of stairs and started climbing with any bit of energy he had left. He needed the roof. It seemed like forever until he reached the top, but in actuality it was only ten minutes. Almost on his hands and knees, collapsing from exhaustion and starting to feel a throbbing headache, from where he must have hit his head, he reached the door that led to the roof. Collins struggled to stand up and had to lean against the wall for support, and then turned the door handle and opened the door. He walked out onto the roof, and felt the immediate rush of icy cold air sweep over him. Snow covered the ground. Collins' tears were very cold against his skin and he shivered, but was getting air into his lungs and the claustrophobic feeling disappeared almost instantly. There was something relaxing about being up here – something comforting. He stepped further out into the cold winter air, and wrapped his arms around himself to preserve heat, and not to lose heat so quickly. Collins walked over to the ledge, and peered over the edge to streets below… people still walking about, going about their business – they looked so insignificant. Like ants. So tiny. He leaned against the wall and wiped his face of the cold moisture from the tears, and shivered.

"Where are you, my Angel?" he whispered, his words seemed to float on the air as a gentle breeze then brushed against him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Sing to me, my Angel… where are you?"

He wasn't expecting an answer. And he couldn't understand why he couldn't remember, probably a touch of amnesia… he couldn't remember what happened with Sam and Julian. And he certainly couldn't remember what happened with Angel. After only being awake for ten minutes, he still had no more answers than he started with… and still no closer to being with Angel.

But in the darkness, he did not see a pair of eyes focused directly on him… watching him with sadness.

"Angel," Collins cried. "Where are you? Where the fucking hell are you? Why can't I remember?"

The person stepped out the shadows, taking steps forward so that he was standing about ten feet. He opened his mouth.

"Live in my house…" his heavenly voice sang out. Collins froze. What? Angel smirked and debated whether to step forward or not. He decided to continued, knowing he had Collins' attention. "I'll be your shelter…" he skipped forward two steps, and jumped up on one of the pipes, and Collins blinked multiple times.

"Just pay me back, with one thousand kisses…"

Finding a little bit of strength, Collins slowly turned around and his heart almost was caught in his throat when he saw his beautiful Angel posing on pipe, grinning at him and done up in all his drag queen glory. He was wearing a beautiful white mini skirt, white tights and white heels, and yes a white sweater. Angel was always wearing his favourite wig – the black, shoulder length one and his make-up highlighted his already gorgeous features. Collins stood there, stunned. Speechless. Angel jumped off the pimp and danced over to him, with so much energy and passion and Collins still was frozen in that one spot… he had so convinced himself that Angel was dead, considering he couldn't remember. Angel then stopped just in front of his lover, so happy that he was awake again… after seeing that initial bump to Collins' head, he had to get some fresh air from seeing the blood as Collins received a nasty little cut to his forehead. He and the professor had a nasty fight earlier that day and Angel had stormed out of their apartment so made… the argument was over something trivial, but it had left Angel in tears and Collins so pissed off that he just needed time away from him. Now, what a beautiful moment for reconciliation. Never was there a more romantic time than now. Angel's eyes met Collins', and that connected sent sparks through them once again… Angel slipped his hands into Collins' cold ones, and shivered at the initial contact, but it subsided. Angel leaned forward so that his face was inches from his lover's.

"Be my loveeeer!" he sang, softly. "And I'll… cover you..." he trailed off into a barely audible whisper and fell silent. Collins started shaking again and whimpered. Angel's alive? Is he real? Angel then let go of one of Collins' hands and placed his fingers lightly on the cut that Collins had received from being knocked unconscious. Angel had fully recovered from his injuries after several months of pain staking physiotherapy, which Benny generously offered to pay for, and was finally getting his life back together. He was happy again. And in love. Collins stared into his boyfriend's expectant eyes, expecting him to continue the song that had joined them together almost two years ago… the song that had expressed all their feelings. He then placed his fingers on Collins' lips, wanting so badly to kiss them… but wanting to hear the words…

Collins licked his lips, wetting them as they had dried from the initial shock. Everything was starting to come back to him now as the sudden memory loss started to dissipate. The trials. The convictions. Sam is in jail, never to get out… it all came back so quickly. He didn't understand why he had such a realistic, yet horrific dream… and truth be told, he didn't want to understand it. The fight with Angel earlier that day also came back to him. Oh man. Finally…

"Open your door," he sang so softly, maintaining eye contact and still in a state of disbelief and Angel's face lit up. "I'll be your tenant…" Collins then pulled Angel closer to him and with his index and middle finger, he grazed Angel's cheek so lightly that he could barely feel them. But he could feel him.

"Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet," he sniffed and Angel warmly wiped his tears away for him. Nothing else existed but each other… they saw nothing else but each other's eyes. Their souls. "But sweet kisses I've got to spare," he was getting choked up. "I'll be there, and I'll cover you!"

Angel burst into emotional giggles and found that he too was crying. This man was the love of his life and right now, he just wanted to pin him down and make beautiful love to him, feeling his body next to his. Collins managed to shake himself from the shock of seeing his Angel again, and started laughing, picking up Angel and spinning him around. After setting him down again, he pressed his lips against Angel's, and Angel responded just as ferociously.

"Oh honey," Angel gushed upon pulling apart. "I'm so sorry… I'm sorry for what happened earlier, it was stupid…"

Maybe now wasn't the time to tell him about the dream. Collins kissed his forehead. "Baby, it's okay… I'm the one who should be sorry. It's okay, I promise. How you feeling?"

"Amazing. Never better. Never stronger… and never more in love…"

"I got so scared, Ang," Collins confessed. "I was terrified… I woke up and at first I had so much trouble figuring out what was real and what wasn't… that dream was so real…"

"What dream?"

"It doesn't matter," Collins remarked. "It's over with now. Forget it. And I have to say… you look so beautiful, honey. An angel… my Angel…"

"Take me home," Angel grinned, jumping into Collins' arms, who was more than willing to oblige. "And… take advantage of me," he winked, kissing the professor's neck, and sucking on it erotically. Collins looked to the sky and mouthed the words 'thank you' for having this chance to have this beautiful person in his life. For this moment… it was all worth it. He was taking Angel home.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: IT'S OVER! It's REALLY OVER! AHHHHHHHH! How insane is this? I told you I'd screw with your heads and I DID! Trust me, I don't know what I was tripping on when I came up with the ideas for this chapter, but man I'm just happy it's over. It's been a wonderful journey and I've been so lucky to have some of the most loyal readers I've ever had. I just have people I wanna thank, who have given me such encouragement as a writer and my confidence has significantly grown. It took so long for me to bring this story into fruition and the response has been overwhelming. Thank you so much. Here is a list of people in no particular order:

Phoenix-Satori – DAINA! I love you, girl, you are a TRUE INSPIRATION to me and have been such an enormous help. I honestly believe this story wouldn't have been as well done if it weren't for your continuous reading and feedback and ideas. I love you! I swear, you are a great friend and was always so supportive of me when I wanted to quit writing and through all the personal shit I've gone through, you've always been a great friend. So I can forgive you for being a New Zealander. LOL! Just kidding! BIG HUGS

Alice Midnight

L.M. Ward

Marauding-siriusly

Kelsey

To No Absolutes

Just Ella

Eponine Poe

LLPotter

Angelover609

Lesley

Abby

BOWIEgirl

I'm sorry if I've missed anyone, but I was writing this while nursing a hangover. So forgive me, but I love everyone who reviewed, gave me advice, and stuck with me through the hardest of times when writing this. This truly has been the most difficult story I've ever written. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

GROUP HUG! hugs everyone

I am considering doing a sequel! Any ideas would be welcome

Thanks so much again! I can't believe it's over! WOOT! WOOT!