Author's Note: Oh man, work kicked my ass this week and having an ass amount of rain in the area totally didn't help my creativity any. Excuse me, I came on at the wrong note. Thank you guys so much for your reviews and thank you for viewing. It makes me happy to know that I'm not doing this for no reason.

Chapter Six:

"You, Mark Cohen, are an idiot," Joanne said with a shake of her head as she set down a glass of water and two pills on the night stand.

Mark groaned before burrowing further underneath the covers, "Don't remind me."

"It was genius to go out while you're sick, I have to say."

"Joanne, please shut up," the filmmaker gave the woman a nudge, "Don't you have work or something?"

"Not for another few hours, I have a late meeting."

"Just… wonderful."

Mark had woken up two hours ago, vomiting into the trash bin beside his bed. Joanne, being a light sleeper, immediately woke to see what was going on and if he was okay. After getting Mark relatively comfortable, she took his temperature and found that it had soared to 102.3, something that she was greatly concerned about.

"Listen, if you don't get better in the next two days, I'm talking you to a doctor," Joanne said as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"There is no way I can pay for the expenses," Mark told her

"You're covered, so shut up and take these damn pills."

"I hope Roger doesn't feel like I do when I tell him to take his AZT."

"Please, I'm nowhere as bad as you."

"…thanks."

Mark let out a harsh cough and buried his face into his pillow with a groan. Joanne soothingly ran her hand up and down his back as he coughed more, curling up, as if to disappear. Joanne actually felt bad for him. She had never actually seen him sick before. And she had never liked seeing people sick in the first place. They just seemed so helpless.

And Mark looked so much like a child, curled up in bed, face flushed, hair matted down, and without his glasses. In that instant, she could see why Maureen had liked him so much and why it must have been hard to leave him. It was the way he presented himself, awkward, yet approachable and easy to be with. She couldn't understand how anyone could hurt him intentionally.

"Ugh, I feel like something's crawling up my throat and it has claws," Mark moaned.

"You are such a baby when you're sick."

Mark rolled his eyes before slowly pushing himself up. He took the pills that Joanne had set down for him and swallowed them with the water. He set the glass back on the table and fell back into bed, pulling the covers over his head.

Joanne laughed, "Keep sleeping. I'll wake you before I leave."

Mark made a sound from under the covers, but the lawyer decided to leave him alone, knowing it would be better for his health to rest instead of talk. Quietly, she walked out of the room and shut the door.

With a sigh, she made her way to the livingroom and turned on the TV. Maureen was out, probably ready to start asking people a hell of a lot of questions about what she had seen the night before. She didn't blame the performer, simply because she wanted answers too, but she knew she couldn't push them or she'd be lied to or worse, be ignored completely.

Collins sat in a booth at the life, drinking a coffee and picking at a basket of fries as he read a new book he had just gotten. It was holding his interest, but he knew soon Maureen would be breaking him out of his little world and talking to him about god knows what. He hadn't gotten a call from the diva in a long time.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall as it flew open got the professor's attention. Sure enough, there was Maureen, walking in with such energy that she held everyone's attention. Man, does this get old, he smiled as he marked the page he had just been reading.

"Hey, Maureen," Collins said as he got up and hugged the younger woman.

"Hi, Collins," Maureen said back, pulling away and sitting in her seat, "I have a lot of questions for you and I swear if you don't answer them I'll scream."

"That serious, huh?"

Maureen quickly looked around the Life before lowering her voice, "Last night, while me and Mark were doing the dishes…"

"Wait, Mark's staying with you guys?"

"He's sick. Will you let me finish?" Collins waves his hand, signaling her to continue. "Anyway, he was drying and I washing and I wanted to switch jobs. He seemed so set on not doing it, but I didn't want prune fingers and I just hate washing. But I grabbed his arm and tried to get him ready for the job and when I pulled up his sleeve I saw scars."

Collins winced, knowing that eventually the subject would have been brought up. He just didn't expect Maureen to be the one that found out first.

"Please, tell me you know why he has them."

"I can explain the one running down his wrist, but I can't tell you what led up to it and the others came from something else, something I have no place to talk about."

Maureen's brows furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Mark tried to kill himself, that's how he got the scar, but I can't tell you anything else. It's not my place."

"But I never saw those scars! And I was his girlfriend!"

"Maureen, he got them a couple days after he made you move out for your own safety. Remember?"

"But I was still his girlfriend up until before you came back."

"Did you guys have sex in that time?"

"Well…"

"Exactly," Collins didn't want to bring up the fact that the performer had been sleeping around at that time, especially since Mark was watching Roger. He decided that being as straightforward and simple was the best route to go.

"I just… I feel so stupid!" Maureen exclaimed, "How could I have missed something so big?"

"Mo, you have to understand, Mark didn't want to tell anyone. Even Roger doesn't know."

The woman sighed, "Joanne thinks Roger's got something to do with it."

"Well, I guess Roger's the only one who doesn't know then." Collins sighed. So much for keeping a secret.

There was a long pause.

"Wait, you mean Benny knows?" Maureen asked, her voice going up a pitch.

Collins rolled his eyes, hoping his explanation would do for the time being, "Roger was going through withdrawal. It was before I left for MIT. When it happened, well, someone needed to watch Roger while Mark was in the hospital. Benny was the first choice since he was already with Alison--"

"Muffy," Maureen huffed.

"Right, but I called him and he helped out with the hospital bills and made sure that Mark stayed a night or two in the hospital. Mark really needed the rest and with what happened, he needed time away."

"And he didn't fight tooth and nail to get back to take care of Roger?"

"That's another story and you'll have to ask Mark about it."

"What about Roger? Shouldn't he know this story as well?"

"Roger was really out of it. He didn't remember even half of the things he did those first few months of withdrawal."

Maureen sighed, "This is so damned--"

"Complicated?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry, but that's just how it is."

Maureen made a sound of frustration and then proceeded to take a few of Collins' fries, chewing on them absentmindedly. The professor gave a small laugh before calling over a waiter. He might as well get her mind off of the situation by buying her lunch and telling her to keep calm.

"Roger, it's okay," Mark whispered as he held the musician close, "You're okay."

Roger was shaking, gasping for air, "I need to get out of here. Mark, please, please just let me go out."

"You know I can't do that, you have to stay clean."

"You can't dictate my life!" Roger yelled as he pushed Mark.

The smaller man stumbled, but kept his balance, his adrenaline pumping. He knew Roger would get like this. He had seen it before and it never quite got better as time progressed.

"Just calm down, I'll make you some coffee," Mark tried, but Roger was already stepping closer.

"I've had enough of you and your fucking rules!" And then the musician's calloused hands were around Mark's neck.

The filmmaker struggled against the other man, but found himself unable to get free. Sleep and food deprivation had left him feeling weak. He pressed his hands to Roger's chest, trying to push the other man away. It only caused the musician's fingers to tighten around his throat.

"Roger…" Mark tried, his voice strained.

But Roger didn't respond. Those green eyes were filled with fury and hate. And they were all Mark saw as darkness closed in on him.

Mark woke with a start, first gasping for air, then coughing uncontrollably. He held his hand over his mouth, hoping to quiet himself as pain shot through his chest and throat.

He felt a hand on his back and realized that Joanne was in the room with him. He was thankful for the comfort she was providing him. After repeatedly clearing his throat, Mark took a sip of the water that was at his bedside.

"You alright?" Joanne asked.

"Ask me again when I'm not in pain." Mark replied.

The lawyer shook her head, "Well, I hope you're up for talking cause someone just called for you."

"Who?"

"Some kid called Jason. Use the phone in here and don't get out of bed," Joanne said, moving the phone on the bedside table closer.

Mark rubbed his eyes as he picked up the phone. Joanne walked out of the room and gave him privacy. It was only then that he spoke.

"Jason?"

"Mark, you said you'd call today," Jason said, sounding disappointed, "The gang's back and everything."

"I am insanely sick," Mark answered.

"Yeah, I can kind of tell by your voice." There was a pause on the other end, "Hey, want me to bring you some of my mom's chicken soup?"

It took a moment for the filmmaker to register what was being said, "What?"

"Chicken soup," Jason repeated, "My mom usually makes it for me when I'm sick and it really helps. I was just wondering if you wanted some. To make you feel better."

"No, I'm good. Don't go through the trouble."

"Please?"

Oh god, Mark thought, don't do this. "I don't think--"

"I'll bring the guys over and you can interview us there. Please? Pretty please?"

Mark wondered when Jason reverted back to a five year old, "Let me ask…"

An hour after making Joanne stop laughing at him for hanging out with kids and explaining that he was doing a documentary, that he swore to show when it was done, Jason and crew showed up at the door, smiling sweetly. Jason was actually holding a thermostat filled with soup. Kim had taken the liberty to get some ice cream while Adrian brought along Chinese food.

"Did you say kids or lackeys that do your bidding?" Joanne asked as she led the five teens to the guestroom.

"I didn't make them do anything," Mark groaned as he tried to hide under his covers. He was wondering if it was such a good idea to do this.

"Jesus, aren't you roasting in that thing?" Jess asked, pointing to Mark's long sleeved shirt as she plopped down on the empty side of the bed.

"I'm sick…?" Mark responded.

The teens laugh and Joanne rolls her eyes before saying, "I'm going to leave you kids alone. I have to get to work. Don't tire him out too much."

"We won't Ms. Jefferson." Adrian said, politely as Joanne closed the door.

"What makes you guys think I can even operate my camera right now?" Mark asked as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Who said anything about filming?" Ryan asked with an amused smile. He pulled out a few spoons from his pocket, "We came you cheer you up and make you feel better by forcing food and crazy stories on you."

"I'm going to hate you guys by the end of this visit, you realize that?" the filmmaker asked.

"We know," Jason answered with a smirk.

Roger gave a frustrated sigh as he set down his guitar. He couldn't work on his new song. The chords sounded all wrong, even the words were starting to sound wrong and they sounded perfectly fine the night before.

"What the fuck do I do?" he asked himself as he settled back on the couch, the only place that seemed comfortable at the moment. Even his bed wasn't comfortable anymore. Too many memories haunted him, especially in his room, when he was alone and had too much time to think.

Mimi had decided to give him some space after they had a long talk. Roger realized that he needed to get his head together, especially if he wanted to confront Mark about what was going on.

"This is too fucking hard," the musician whispered.

The second those words left his mouth he regretted having heard or said them. He had said that one too many times during withdrawal, always ready to give up. He had been so ready to give up in those first few months, before things got easier.

He remembered screaming and screaming, the pain he felt and the urge that he had to suppress. Sometimes, he still had to suppress the urges. That was what made heroin so dangerous. He knew that even if he stopped for years, one day the craving could come back, just like that, and drive him to do something stupid. That was why the drug was so addictive. It made you want more and more.

He knew that he had hurt his roommates through the process. Collins liked retelling some of the stories, simply because they were funny. Most of them involved Mark fending for himself and that in a way triggered some visual memories that looked astonishingly surreal. It was hard to imagine, see, Mark standing up to an addict that could very easily take him in a fight.

Even with the stories he knew, Roger knew he was missing a lot. And that was why he was so bothered by this whole thing. He needed to know if Mark was afraid of thunder because of him. If it was one of the stories that they never told him. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to stand himself for a while because he could vaguely remember Mark talking about how much he loved watching thunderstorms.

Mark used to sit on the windowsill, staring out at the rain, watching as lightning stretched across the sky and thunder follow in its wake. He used to say that when he was in Scarsdale and his parents fought or when he felt like he wanted to give up, he would wait for a thunderstorm to roll around, then watch it as he sat at his open window. It made him calm and it fascinated him.

The current change that Roger just recently caught was too much of a change from what he remembered seeing.

He needed to get to the bottom of it somehow. If only he knew how.

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for reading, please leave a review. It would make me very happy. I hope you enjoyed this. The next chapter will be up soon!