Chapter Seven

Three months Later

Death, it seemed like such a constraint, Mark sat in front of his camera with a sad smile on his face as he started the camera, "Hey guys, it's Mark—obviously. Listen uh, if you're watching this, it's because I've died. For starters—I'm sorry." He paused and looked down at the floor, it had been one month and seven days since Doctor Beckett had broken the news, the chemotherapy hadn't worked, and the bone marrow transplants weren't working.

Mark had sadly announced to his friends two days later that he was terminal; he had less than six months to live. It didn't seem fair. He'd gone through what the doctor had called the five stages of coping with death.

Denial had come right after Carson Beckett had broken to him that he had cancer, it struck back twice as hard for several days after he was told he was terminal. He'd bargained with Doctor Beckett for hours, begging him to find a way to help him survive; at least until Roger died so that Roger wouldn't die alone.

Depression had set in a very long time ago, with mood swings as different as hot to cold. Roger had been forced to deal with every single moment of the swings. Anger had never really come to Mark; he couldn't be angry at anyone—he just saw it as God's cruel way of making sure Mark didn't go last.

The only problem was; now Mark feared his best friend would be the last to go, and Roger wouldn't handle that well. He hid everything from everyone.

After his final diagnosis; Mark had spent three days with his family, trying desperately to make up with his father; which sadly had only ended in an argument. David had instantly packed his family up and taken them back to Scarsdale, however Carley had fought tooth and nail, Emily relented long before David; she'd handed both children money and told them to call when the funeral came.

Mark couldn't remember his mother ever really crying like she had as she'd bid her only son a goodbye—

Emily's deep blue eyes searched her son's as though looking into his soul. Her hands placed on each side of his handsome face as she gently rubbed his cheeks, "I—I've made my fair share of mistakes Marcus and I don't deny them. I should have stood up for you when you were a little boy."

"No mom, don't do this—don't do this to me and please mom don't do this to yourself," whimpered Mark as he looked at his mother.

She had tears dripping down her cheeks but she shook her head, "I'm so very proud of you; I don't tell you that very often, but sweetheart—you're my little boy. I wish I had been like most mothers and as close to you as I am with your sisters. I feel like I've lost something—some part of me. Did I tell you how happy I was when I finally got pregnant with you?"

Mark shook his head, sensing his mother needed to get this off her chest, she pulled him down onto his old couch, and squeezed his hands, "I wasn't supposed to be able to have children, I had two miscarriages before your sister Cindy. And another one just before you—then I got pregnant with you, the doctor's held little hope for you. I didn't gain a single pound until the six month point, when I put on four or five pounds. I was terrified; I was eating healthy and everything. The Doctors had bedridden me for fear I wouldn't follow through on you. I went into labor with you a month and two weeks early—I've never seen your father as scared as I did the night you were born. No one though you would live, you were a breech; the cord was around your neck. You were almost born dead. But—after a few moments," she paused, composing her now shaking voice, she looked back up into the mirror image of her eyes, "You finally let out high pitched cry, everyone thought you'd be a little girl. So when they handed me this tiny little body and said it was a boy—Marky, I nearly sobbed. I had the little boy I'd wanted forever. I instantly looked at you and knew you were a Mark. You were four pounds and two ounces."

Mark's mother had never told him this, he was sure part of it was so they could be a little big closer, "No one thought you would live to see a week. I knew you would—do you know why?" Mark shook his head before she continued, "I looked into these tiny blue eyes and I saw something that you could only have gotten from your dad; determination. I knew you would survive. And you did, not just that but you were out of the hospital within three days of birth having gained enough weight to leave."

"I didn't leave because of you mom," whimpered Mark as he tried to wipe his tears away.

"I know baby; you left because you were scared and needed to get away from your father. I don't know when he went so wrong, or why he focused on you as a target, but I promise you that while he may have buried his feelings for you; he loved you so much as a baby. It wasn't always like this; he used to play with you all the time."

"I remember good day's mom," Mark replied softly.

"Good, I don't want you to die thinking your father always hated you, or that I was always as weak as I am now."

Mark shook his head, touching her cheek, "You're not weak; I never thought that."

"Yes you did, but you had every right baby. I—I can't make up for the past twenty wasted years, but I can tell you how proud of you I am. No matter what or who you are, I'm so very proud of you and who you've become. Your father wants to leave, I wish I could stay and get to know my little boy better—take care of Carley; she misses you so dearly; the time she spends with you will be good for her. Maybe she'll learn from you."

"You realize she may quite school if she hangs out here too long," Laughed Mark guiltily.

"I won't lie that I want her to continue school, but I'll make you a deal; that little girl is just as smart as you—we'll get her into school here in New York; it wouldn't hurt to be with her friends for as long as possible. She'll stay as long as she likes; as long as she's in some type of schooling."

"I love you mom," he cried as he grabbed her into a hug.

"I adore you too sweetie," she rubbed his back comfortingly, hoping to bestow some love on him that he hadn't felt for so much of his young life time.

"Goodbye mom."

He would never forget the look of utter loss and disappointment on her and Cindy's faces as David Cohen forced them to walk out of the apartment and leave behind the one person they wanted nothing more than to know and love.

No one had really cried when he'd told them he was dying. Deep down, Mark was fairly sure they'd all seen it coming. Even Mark had known he was going to die; from the moment they'd taken the first bone marrow test, he'd known all along. He couldn't explain it, but something just told him he was doomed.

"Anyway, I guess you could call this my last will and testament, but it's a lot more than that—each of you has a video; just for you. I hope you like them, and will keep them near to you. Collins: you're first, my friend, and my big brother—you've always protected me when I needed it the most, and the words of wisdom you and Angel gave me—are things I will carry with me to the grave. I can't leave you much, except my video Today 4 U, it was inspired purely by Angel, and I couldn't have made it without her, you deserve to have a memory of both of us. Know one thing Collins, no matter how well I hide it, I loved Angel, and will miss her and you. You were great friends. I'll tell her I said 'hi' if I get there first."

Mark sighed, he hadn't realized how hard this would really be, taking another deep breath he continued, "Maureen—you've—" he smiled ruefully, "I love you, always did; there isn't much I can give you that I haven't already. So I'll give you this, you've got passion inside of you, a side that few people have seen. Stay with Joanne, and if you haven't already, show her that side of you. Let her know that you can be as loving and cute as you'd like to be. Take care of yourself Maureen, and don't ever lose the love for acting you have. It'll take you so much further than where you are today. Joanne, when I first met you—well I hated you, and part of me felt bad that you'd be forced to go through what I'd gone through, but getting to know you was one of the best things I've ever had the honor of doing. You're a strong woman, and while you deserve someone ten times better than Maureen, I think you two will stay together because you, like her, have so much love to offer. I'm leaving you both my screen plays, maybe you guys can find something special in them. I love you both."

He stopped, Mimi, Roger and his baby sister were the only people left to do the videos for. "Mimi, you're bright, smart and beautiful. Roger may not want to admit it, but he's going to be hurting, he'll need you there; please take care of him for me as long as you can. I'm leaving you my half of the apartment, be with Roger, he needs you."

"Carley, I love you, you're a wonderful baby sister; I'm giving you the thing that is quite possibly the most dear to me in the entire world, my camera. Mom said you could stay here as long as you'd like, help them deal with this blow, take my camera and make me proud, I know you can."

"Roger—" Mark stopped, feeling tears filling his eyes, what do you tell your best friend to help the pain go away. Standing up he gently turned the camera and shut it off. Not knowing where or how to begin, he felt tears cloud his vision as he thought of the fear he'd had when he learned he'd be the only one to survive. Now everyone else would have to duke it out for the position of last to survive. "I'm sorry," Mark cried sudenly. Thankful no one was in the loft, he collasped back to the couch and sobbed, letting all his anger, fear and frustrations come out.

"Hang in there baby," came the soft words from across the room. Mark looked up, his eyes leveling on someone who had been dead for a long time.

"You...you can't be here," he whispered.

"I'm here Mark, and I'll be here the whole time for you. They'll survive--yes it'll be very hard, but they'll survive without you. Accept death before it comes and takes you away," Angel said gently as she offered a smile to the filmmaker.

"I'm not ready to accept death."

"You have time, don't close yourself off to all possibilites baby; and tell Roger what you've always wanted to tell him. He'll thank you in the end."

"Al--Alright. Angel, we miss you."

"We'll see one another again honey."

With that she disappeared, leaving Mark alone in the empty apartment to think of the words Angel had just said to him. Looking back at the camera he turned it back on, then took a seat, "Hey Rog--"