Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is Jonathan's, everything you don't is mine. This disclaimer applies to each and every snippet I write and if you don't like it, eff you.

A/N: Well, since this is my first RENTfic, I should write one of these 'Author's Note' deals. Anyways, I'm scared to death that any of my characters will become Mary Sues, so PLEASE review! I don't think it'll come immediately in this first chapter, but please review if you see her coming, or if you like it or whatever. I'm motivated by reviews, because the most reviews I've ever gotten is 3 on a Harry Potter songfic that sucked. So... REVIEW! Au revoir, hope you like it.

Chapter 1: I'll Live

December 24, 1990, 9 PM. Where the fuck is she.

Mark was used to his daily rounds around the city. Zipping through Central Park, he raked his eyes across the dreary winter landscape. Abandoning his attempts to find his best friend's ex-girlfriend, he rode his bike out of Central Park and towards Alphabet City.

It had been one year. One year since they had all met each other. He couldn't believe what they went through in just one year. They had breakups, makeups, deaths and renewals. They had lost friends, family, and Angel. The glue that kept them together had finally disintegrated and they had all flown apart. Roger had just gotten back from Santa Fe, Collins and Mimi were God-knows where, and Joanne and Maureen were too far away, living alone.

Mark was the only one that stayed, that kept what Angel had made for them: a bond of love.

A scream suddenly took him out of his thoughts.

Braking a bit, he looked down alleys, looking for where the scream came from until he found two people struggling.

Turning, he pedaled down the alley until he got there and off the bike. He was facing the back of a large, man, a girl whimpering, "Please, please don't do it, I'll do anything... please..."

"Too bad, pretty little..." Without thinking, Mark had jumped onto the back of the big guy.

Next thing he knew, He was staring at the stocky man on the ground, blood dripping from the man's temple where a rock, now a few feet away from him, had struck. Mark looked around at the girl, sitting, hugging her knees against the chainlink fence, whimpering.

Mark walked over to her. "Um... are you okay?"

The girl looked up at him cautiously. She looked Asian, Her face bruised and her long black hair a mess. She was wearing a dark coat, a plaid skirt (her legs were quite bruised, too), and her sneakers were worn. She was clutching a messenger bag as if her life depended on it. She looked down at his feat. "I'll live." She didn't seem to have an accent.

"Are you sure you don't need any help, nothing?"

"No." She got up, still looking at the ground, her left leg shivering slightly. "I'll be alright. I'll live." She looked up into his eyes, as she said, "Thank you... so much."

As Mark was about to say, "No problem," she ran off down the alleyway and across the street.

Mark stared after her a bit, shook his head, and headed back for his loft.