A/N: I had this general idea in my head for a while now. But I tweaked it a little and I realize now, it's a lot more dramatic than I originally intended. (Not to mention, SOMEHOW, it turned into slash lol. So uh...sorry, if you aren't into that kind of stuff.)

Disclaimer: (starts singing) I DON'T OWN EMOTION, I RENT! Or I'm at least renting the characters for a little while. I'll give 'em back eventually (sad sigh).

"So, for dinner, we have the option of Cap'n Crunch...again, or week old leftovers from the Life Café. What do you want?"

Mark listened carefully. No answer.

"Roger? I'm talking to you."

Still silence.

"Roger, would you fucking stop daydreaming and answer me?"

Mark listened as he heard a loud thud and nothing else.

Turning around, he saw Roger, passed out on the loft floor. Mark's eyes widened in terror.

"Shit."

---

After two days straight in the nearest hospital, the roommates entered the loft again.

"I swear, Mark, I'll be fine. Stop babying me."

"Go lay down."

"Mark, I said no more-"

"Roger, just go fucking lay down!" Mark had actually shouted at Roger. Mark. Yelling. It's something that Roger never thought would happen. Examining his roommate more closely, he saw Mark shaking.

"Mark...you okay?"

"Roger, just please...go rest." Mark's voice was small, desperate.

Roger sighed before nodding. "Fine."

Mark watched as Roger curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket closer to his frail body. Mark turned and walked into the bathroom.

Turning on the hot water (which was a luxury that they didn't have too often), he peeled off his clothes before entering the shower. Before he knew it, he was sobbing harder than he ever had in the past.

He felt himself slowly fall to the shower floor and began to cradle himself. His throat started closing slightly and it hurt to breathe, but he had to get out all the repressed pain he'd been feeling.

I almost lost him. If I wasn't home...oh God, if I wasn't home...

He wanted to scream. This could've been it. This could've been Roger's last day on earth.

Scream into a pillow. What if I don't have a fucking pillow?

Mark scanned the room and found a red towel lying on the bathroom floor. He gingerly picked it up, rolled it into a ball, pressed it to his jaw and screamed bloody murder.

Even a towel didn't help against the paper thin walls.

Mark heard Roger's footsteps race to the bathroom and the sudden pounding of Roger's fists on the door.

"Mark! Mark, what's going on!"
Mark slowly picked himself up off the tiled floor and sighed. "Nothing, I'm fine."

The doorknob turned and Mark quickly pulled the shower curtain shut.

"Then what was that scream? You're going to tell me nothing? What, it was the wind?"

"Roger, I told you to lay down." Mark answered bitterly.

"Yeah, and I'm not listening." Roger pulled the shower curtain open, revealing a very pissed off Mark.

"Roger, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Mark, look me square in the eye and tell me you're fine. Tell me that what happened two days ago, that me collapsing, didn't affect you in any way."

Mark bit his lip and looked to the floor. Suddenly, the tears were back. The pain in his throat and the desire to scream all came back full force. He leaned against the bathroom wall and looked at his roommate, tears streaming down his slightly freckled face.

"Would you be? God-dammit, Roger, if I collapsed in front of you and almost died, would you be fine?"

Roger's face went white. He took a step closer to Mark. "I'm...I'm sorry. But God, Mark, I'm fine!" Roger stepped into the shower, lifting Mark's head to look into his eyes.

"Roger, you're getting wet."

"I don't give a fuck." Mark inhaled sharply as Roger wiped away his tears with his callused thumbs. "Please..." Roger begged, with a small laugh. "Stop crying."

Mark shook his head. "No. What if I lost you? What if I was out filming another crap film instead of home at the loft, and you just...died there, on the floor? What if, Roger? I mean, it could've-"

Roger, without warning, pushed his lips up against Mark's.

Running a hand through Mark's hair, Roger answered, "But it didn't. It could've. But it didn't. And I'm damn grateful that you were there to save me."

Mark looked into the guitarist's green eyes and laughed. "You're soaking wet."

Roger let out a small laugh as well. "Whatever. You okay?"

Mark nodded. "I think so." Mark slowly moved in and kissed him back. "Damn, I could've lost you."

Roger smiled. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Mark embraced the musician and didn't feel himself ever wanting to let go.

I promise.

A/N: Not sure if I'll continue. For the time being, it's a one-shot. I guess if I get enough reviews, I might, or if I'm low on new inspiration. What do you think?