Author's Note: Some religious overtones in this one. No intent on offending anyone—but I heard them at a funeral for a friend and I thought they would be right to put in here.

I think this is it. I don't see this fic going anywhere else after this, so this is the last chapter. Thanks all who reviewed. I hope to be writing again in the near future. Cheers!

Right as Maureen, Collins and I were taking our seats in the third row, I heard the door at the back of the room open. I turned my head.

It was Roger. He was sweating and it was obvious that he had made a mad dash to be there on time, but as far as I could tell, he was not stoned. As he came closer I could see that his eyes were clear. I was somewhat grateful. I was on the aisle seat and stood up to offer him a chair. He offered a slight—maybe a bit remorseful, too—smile but did not take me up on my offer; instead choosing to sit on the other side of the aisle behind April's parents.

When he sat down, they both turned to him. April's mother was crying, but her father stuck out his hand to shake Roger's. I sighed and sat down next to Maureen again. I turned around and caught Benny's gaze. He gave me a slight nod. I offered a small smile and then surveyed the rest of the room—it was a small crowd. Family, all sitting near and around her parents; and several friends and other musicians who apparently knew Roger too, were sitting farther back in the room.

April's casket was displayed at the front of the room—thankfully closed—and was covered with a white cloth, her picture, and a poster from one of her favorite bands. Her parents were obviously religious—Catholic, by the look of things—and therefore had asked for a priest to preside over the services.

During the service, the priest talked of how Christ would redeem April in heaven—a comment that left me confused. Suicide was a terrible sin to the Catholic church, wasn't it?—and how after April arrived in Heaven, after receiving a big "bear hug" from the Lord, she would immediately regret what she had done to leave the bonds of earth and all those that loved her, but Christ would receive her anyway. It seemed terribly fake to me. Especially since April, with her rock music and addictions for drugs and sex, seemed the least likely person in the room to want anything to do with being received in Heaven. But who was I to know?

After a brief sermon about April's life and the will of the Lord, the priest then offered Communion. This was the part I had been dreading—I had always felt out of place attending religious services, even ones that weren't Jewish. So I stayed in my seat uncomfortably while everyone around me—including Maureen and Collins—got up to receive the wine and the little wafer. I stared at the fraying ends of my blue and white scarf as this went on.

I could see Roger out of the corner of my eye. I could see him hesitate before getting up, as if unsure if it was really his place. He wasn't openly religious, but maybe somewhere in his heart he thought it was right.

Afterwards, the priest invited everyone to attend a gathering in the adjoining room in April's honor. Slowly, people began rising from their chairs. Maureen was crying. I took her hand and squeezed it, offering a kiss on her cheek. She had known April the best out of all of us, except Roger of course. She went to see April's parents and I watched her hug her mother and start conversing with her.

As Collins passed me he gave me a clap on the shoulder and a smile. I nodded in return and watched him do the same to Roger, who was still seated. I turned to greet Benny, who had come to join me in the aisle.

"Thanks for coming." I said to him, quietly.

"My pleasure." He replied.

"Are you staying in town long? I think some of us are going to the Life a little later, just to, you know. Get together." I said.

"I'd love to, Mark, but…I've got to get back to Westport. Thanks for the invitation." Benny said. I nodded and hoped that the disappointment didn't show on my face. I had hoped that we could all be together for once, even for a little while. It would mean something to Roger, I hoped anyway. Benny clapped my shoulder as had Collins, and then went to say goodbye to Roger and Maureen.

Slowly, we all filtered into the catering hall in the room next door.

After the meal, some people stuck around to talk and reminisce. I looked around. Roger had eaten with us, sitting next to April's parents, but had said very little. He rarely looked up and through it all never once looked at me.

Now, though, I noticed he was gone. I looked around some more, thinking maybe he was with his rocker friends, sitting on the other side of the room. I couldn't see him anywhere.

Maureen, however, was. I groaned.

"Better go get her, man." Collins murmured to me. He had noticed her off flirting with one of the underground rock-and-roll stars too.

I rose from my seat and headed over.

She was leaning on the back of the chair with one of the better-looking fellows; he was seated backwards in his chair leaning his back against the table, smiling and chatting away—and not about April.

"Hi Maureen…" I murmured as I approached. She turned and flashed me a smile.

"Hey Pookie." She said jovially.

I cleared my throat. "Um, do you suppose maybe this isn't the best time to be…" I left the sentence hanging.

"To be what?" she replied, immediately offended by my insinuation.

"You're flirting with one of April's friends at her funeral…I just…don't think that's right…"

"Flirting? You think I'm over here flirting? Jesus, Mark, what's your problem today?" she shot back.

I tried to keep my voice down. I knew I wasn't going to win this one, and in all actuality it was probably a stupid idea to even bring it up. Habit, I suppose. "Just…never mind." I said.

"Come on, Mark. Chill out! I'm trying to have a friendly conversation over here and you get butthurt about it like always." I noted her use of the word "friendly". It was one she always used in her defense for flirting. "What are you, jealous or something?"

Turn away, Mark. Walk away now. But the fact that she had cheated on me before—and had never admitted it, either—still loomed over my head. That was all I needed. My girlfriend cheating on me with some guy she met at a funeral.

"Whatever. Never mind." I murmured, and turned around. Oy vey.

"Lay off, Mark." Maureen said to my back as I walked away.

I started to go back to the table where Collins was sitting, but then I realized that I still couldn't find Roger, and the thought occurred to me that he could have gone back into the chapel itself. I slipped out of the room and headed in that direction.

I opened the door to the chapel and saw Roger. He had his back to the door and was leaning on April's casket. He turned around at the sound of the door, and I could see he was crying.

"Oh—sorry." I said immediately and started to duck out of the door again. It was the second time today I had walked in on him.

But I heard him say, "It's fine."

I poked my head inside again, saw him wiping his eyes, and hesitantly stepped inside. I closed the door quietly behind me.

"I just…I just came to see where you were at." I explained, still standing by the door.

"No…it's okay." He said quietly. He cleared his throat and turned, then sat on the edge of the proscenium where the priest had given his sermon.

He looked terrible.

I started walking towards him and took a seat on the aisle in the second row of chairs.

"About…earlier." I said hesitantly after a few minutes of silence. "That wasn't my place."

"What? Oh. No, that was a pretty fucked up thing for me to even think about doing. I'm…I'm sorry I shoved you around." Roger said. To hear an admission of guilt from him was like a hurricane hitting the Midwest—unexpected and totally shocking.

"No damage done." I said with a slight smile.

"I'm just…having a hard time…dealing with this." He continued. He lowered his head and I could hear his voice start to choke up. "April, and…the AIDS, it's just…it's fucked up."

"I know." I said. I saw a tear slide down Roger's cheek and it made them well up in my own eyes.

"I keep thinking that…that this isn't right, it isn't real. She's not supposed to be in there." He glanced at the casket.

"Of course it's not right." I rose and made my way over to him. I sat down beside him. "But—the worst is over, right?" Now my own throat was constricting on me.

Roger looked at me, his face wet with tears.

"I don't know, Mark." He whispered. "I don't know what's going to happen."

A tear slid down my cheek. "Well, neither do I. But like I said, that bus is probably still out there waiting to get me."

We both laughed, and it was a choked-up, tear filled laugh that breaks the silence as well as the ice. I knew Roger was right. Neither of us knew what was going to happen, and in all likelihood it was going to be hard, whatever happened.

"But as long as you come and visit me in the hospital," I continued jokingly, "it'll be okay."

"I'm glad." Roger said, and I knew it had more than one meaning. I smiled and put my arm around him. We shared a brotherly embrace as our tears dried.

The worst was over, but still yet to come.