K so I lied. Maureen/Joanne might come in the next batch because none of the prompts really jumped out and screamed 'Maureen/Joanne fluff' at me. But they will come! I sorry. My 3 main people I tend to write about are Mark and Mimi and Roger. Sometimes Collins but he'll rarely be written without one of those 3. Eeeps. I'm an awful author. HA! Could barely say that with a straight face. lol Enjoy!

Dru

PS. Sorry in advance for the first one! Not fluffy at all. Angst every which way you look at it.

PPS. Drabble city with the last one! I do promise 2 upcoming stories dripping with fluff of some kind to compensate for the bery sad character death first story :-(

30. Death

Mark stood in the middle of the loft, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat and his breath coming out in white puffs of air. Tears clouded his vision as he stared longingly at the lone guitar, propped up against their sofa. The last couple of days he had been strong for Mimi. He knew things would never be the same again. He allowed a single tear to slip from his piercing blue eyes and land on the hard floor with a soft thud. A chocked sob from behind him made him turn around.

It was Mimi. She was holding one of her lost lovers' shirts close to her chest.

"Mimi," Mark breathed, taking a step towards her. Mimi collapsed into his chest and both of them sunk to their knees. Her body was wracked with sobs. Even as Mark gently stroked her hair and shushed her softly, he could feel his own eyes continue to overflow with tears. She was devastated. Hell, he was too. He had been so helpless. So small and sick. And there was nothing him or Mimi could do about it.

"It isn't fair," Mimi was close to hyperventilating. She pulled her head off of Mark's chest and continued to cry weakly. "I loved him!"

"I loved him too Mimi," Mark gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "He's not suffering anymore." Mimi retook her place against Mark's chest, continuing to cry.

"I…I…love…love you Mark," Mimi was able to choke out between another round of hard sobs. He could feel her fist up the fabric of his shirt and nuzzle deeper underneath his chin, starving for more comfort. He gripped her as tight as he could, her food-denied body growing weaker. Mark had promised to take care of her. He felt like he was failing his best friends' wishes already.

"I love you too baby," he whispered into her hair, not daring to let go for even a second. She was all he had left. He was all she had left. The one which had brought them together was now gone. Had to finally submit to the disease that would never stop haunting Mark and Mimi for as long as they lived without him.

"Please don't leave me," Mimi begged, taking her head off of his chest and staring into his eyes. They were drenched in pain, loss, and agony. They were things Mark had never seen in those soft, puppy brown eyes. The grip grew tighter on the front of his shirt. It took all Mark had left in him not to burst into tears.

"Never." Mimi cried herself hoarse. Until no more tears would grace her pale cheeks or soak through Mark's shirt. She again pulled her head off of Mark to stare into his eyes, her body still swaying with dry heaves. He kissed a final tear off her cheek, finally allowing wetness to take part on his.

"I love you," she repeated in a barely there whisper, her voice now shot. Mark knew they'd have to stay together to stay alive. It was a cold, hollow, sullen, and lonely Sunday night. Mimi Marquez and Mark Cohen continued to hold each other close that night, deep in the heart of Alphabet City, kissing away each others tears and promising to stay close and keep the one that they had loved close to their hearts.

Roger…had died on Friday.

41. Together

Roger twirled Mimi around in a circle and had to stifle a laugh as she almost tumbled over. She snorted and gave him a shove.

"You're supposed to make a move to actually catch me if I fall!" Roger rolled his eyes.

"And you're supposed to know how to dance Ms. Cat Scratch!"

"Shut up!"

"You!"

"You!" Roger clamped his mouth over hers in a kiss. She moaned a bit before pulling away, hopping she hadn't given away the fact that she had enjoyed that. All he saw in her eyes was life and mischief. He saw his Mimi. All she saw in his eyes was love and sense of adventure. She saw her Roger.

Together…they were the picture of the way love was supposed to look.