Author's Note: Last chapter for awhile, since it's the last one I have written out. Thanks for all the great reviews.
Chapter Five
February 12th, 1991
7:45 AM
Mark was positive, that after waking up with Kate by his side, he'd never be able to go back to sleeping alone. As promised there'd been no funny business—both agreed on the short drive over to his parents' house, that it wasn't a good time to go deeper until this was all over and they were sure it was love and not fear or loss.
However as Mark pulled into the driveway, his mind was as far from his father as it could be. He could still feel her lying in his arms, her warm body against his. The smell of her shampoo; for the first time he smiled—he wasn't afraid anymore to face his father and mother.
Kate met him around the front of the jeep, her hand slipping into his, the two made it up the driveway towards the front door. The feeling Mark had had only moments ago was quickly fleeting as he came inches from the door. His mind: once focused on the beautiful woman he loved at his side; instantly switched to all the memories this house brought back, very few of them were pleasant. The most prominent had taken place on this very door step
"Fine!" Screamed David Cohen, "You wanna fuck up your life! Move in with queers and rock star wanna be's you do that! But you just remember Marcus Jeremiah Cohen; that the moment you step out that door you won't ever come back!"
"What makes you think I wanna come back!" Mark screamed in return, for an eighteen year old, he had a lot of guts. He'd never stood up to his father, until the day Roger had openly invited him to New York; a place to escape his father's vicious reach.
"You stupid little fucking whelp! Get the hell outta my house!" he screamed.
Mark wasn't barely aware it happened until he felt the hand connect to his cheek and suddenly it was every second, every beating came flying back to him. Huddling in corners, being the frightened little child under his father's power.
"Mark!" Kate whispered harshly as she squeezed her boyfriend's hand.
Blue eyes instantly met her's, and she noticed the fear and perhaps tears, "Katie—I don't think I can do this," he whispered.
"Sweetheart, you've made it this far. You said it yourself, you have to do this. You're not under his power anymore Mark, he's weak now, and he was always weak. You were just too young to notice it. Remember what you told me about Kevin, he's a weaker man than you can imagine if he has to hit to get respect. Sweetie, you don't belong to him, you never did. You can do this; I'm here."
Mark took a deep, shaky breath and nodded; with a hesitant hand he reached out and pushed the door open. The house was full of activity; small children were running around the house screaming. "Welcome to my family Kate," whispered Mark as he shut the door behind them.
"Mark?" came a nasally voice, an older, somewhat plump woman came out of the kitchen.
Mark was stunned to see how much his mother seemed to have aged over the past six years. He was drawn to her like a fly to the light; he reached out and pulled her into a hug. Instantly she wrapped herself around him, "Oh sweetie," she whimpered softly.
"Hi mom," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "How are you?"
"Oh you know sweetie, hanging in there. You're fathers in the hospital; we're going to visit him around nine. You should come with us, say goodbye."
"I will mom," Mark whispered.
A sudden knock on the door surprised them all, the three in the foyer turned, and Mark was stunned to see a blonde figure pushing the door open. "Oh what a surprise," Emily Cohen spoke as she hurried towards the blonde figure, gathering the obviously taller man in a tight hug.
"Hi Mrs. Cohen," he whispered as he suddenly handed her a bouquet of flowers. "I heard Mr. Cohen was sick—I thought I should come," whispered the musician, his eyes suddenly moving to his blue eyed friend who stood feet away, still staring.
"You're always welcome here Roger, you know that."
"Yes ma'am," Roger replied and watched as the older woman bustled back into the kitchen, muttering something about finding a vase. Roger turned his green eyes directly towards his friend, "So--" he muttered.
"Yeah," replied Mark quietly as he looked down at the floor, evading the questioning eyes of both Roger and now Kate.
"I've been traveling for awhile—Collins; he told me what he could…"
"Yeah--," the response came again.
Roger glared at his friend, then suddenly the gaze softened, "Guess I know how you feel now," he replied lightly.
"I've only been gone for a month," mumbled Mark.
Suddenly Roger reached out and grabbed Mark by the collar of his shirt; seconds later the two were encased in a mutually tight hug, "You stupid bastard," whispered Roger as he grabbed his best friend and held onto him for dear life.
"I'm sorry," garbled Mark from where his head rested against the shoulder, "I should have told you."
"Yeah you should have—but I'll get over it…" Finally the blonde musician pulled away and looked at Mark, "You've put on some weight, 'bout time. You're not coming home are you?"
Mark shook his head, "No, not for a long time. I live in Chicago, in fact, this is my girlfriend, Kate Webber, Katie—this is the infamous Roger."
Roger grinned at her, shaking her hand and drawing her into a loving hug, "Nice to meet you Kate, thanks for taking care of this idiot."
"You're more than welcome," she replied.
"I had to go away Rog…"
The man nodded, "I understand, believe me, I know exactly how you feel—and I'm not angry, hurt would be a better word. I thought we were closer than that."
"We are Roger—but…"
"Yeah, I know you didn't want to hurt me, and you knew I'd try and stop you. I would have too. I just want you to be happy buddy."
"So what are you doin' here?"
"Well—I figured this would be a good time to see my best friend, make sure he was okay—and make absolutely sure he had back up when he went to see his ol' man."
"Thanks I appreciate that," Mark managed.
o0o
Roger and Kate remained in the waiting room, while the Cohen family slipped inside. For a few moments the two sat in silence, before Roger finally spoke up, "How long have you been dating?"
Kate smiled softly, "All of about three days—I've known him for the month he's been in Chicago; he's my cameraman at the studio."
"Kate, listen to me carefully, I'm not saying this to be mean, but it needs to be said. If you got Mark out from behind his camera then you've accomplished something none of his friends have ever been able to accomplish. Which means he really cares about you; with that said he devotes his heart easily and sometimes blindly—so if you're not sure, or you've had any second thoughts about this relationship, you need to stop it now before you break his heart. He can't take any more heart breaks Kate. I'm sure he's told you about Maureen, not to mention the fact his friends keep dying. So please, if you're not serious, or you don't see this panning out in the long run, then stop it now, because I can't see him hurt—I can't deal with the aftermath."
Kate looked at him seriously, nodding slowly, "I really care about him Roger, believe me I don't want to hurt him. Mark saved me."
"He's a really good guy," Roger murmured.
"How did you find out he was gone?"
Roger shrugged, "I went home for a couple days from touring with the band, and I found a note on the counter telling me to call Collins, and the loft completely empty. I've never felt so alone my entire life."
"Can I make a request as his friend?"
"Of course," Roger replied.
"Don't leave him, today when it's all over and done with, and his father dies—don't just go back to New York and move on with your life. Take us with you; let us spend some actual time with you. Because as happy as he may be at the Tribune, he misses you—all of you; he needs you Roger. It's obvious you're the brother he never had."
"You guys are more than welcome to come back to the City with us for a little while; it might do him some good."
"I'm sorry he hurt you Roger—"
"I hurt him first Kate, long before you or I ever met. I've been hurting him in many ways, without realizing it. I guess it just took an empty loft for a week—to get this ol' musician to realize how badly my filmmaker must have been hurting to run out on me for once."
Just then Mark slipped out of the hospital room, and moved over to them, his face was pale white, Roger immediately noticed the filmmaker shaking. "Mark!" Roger moved over to his best friend, and quickly grabbed him, sitting him down in the chair.
"I shouldn't have come," mumbled Mark as he continued to look at the floor.
"What did he say? Mark, listen to me, it's Roger, what did he say?" Roger felt his anger boiling. He hated that man with every ounce in him, he kept his hands on Mark's knees as the younger man drew deep shuddering breathes.
Kate came to her senses, and slipped into the chair by his side, rubbing his back and neck in slow gentle circles. "Breathe baby," she whispered.
"Shouldn't have come," he whimpered as his eyes began to tear up.
Roger was mentally swearing to kill the bastard before his stroke could take him. "Mark, what did he say?"
"He doesn't have a son, the son he'd had died his freshman year in high school—when he met the queer!" whimpered Mark.
Roger sighed and wiped the tears from Mark's eyes, "He doesn't have any control over you anymore Mark."
"He called me a failure! He thinks I'm a fucking failure and that I don't deserve to be a Cohen!" cried Mark as he suddenly buried his face in his hands.
Kate acted before Roger could, and pulled him into a hug, "You're not a failure Mark, look at you—you've got a job, a life and a beautiful woman at your side. You were never a failure. Your father's just too damned stupid and blinded to see the truth."
"His last words were the fuckin' Kaddish!" screamed Mark, "For his son!"
"Shh," Kate whispered as she ran her hand through his hair.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Roger said suddenly, grabbing his best friend's hand.
Mark stood up dejectedly, Kate was still clutching his side, "Why did I come back here," he murmured as Roger and Kate led him out of the house.
"Mark, stop questioning yourself…" Roger muttered in return. They finally arrived in the parking garage, "I'll drive, I had one of my friends drop me off anyway," Roger offered.
Kate nodded and opened the back door, she helped her filmmaker into the back seat, and took a seat beside him, "We're here honey," she whispered softly as she held him close.
"Where's you're hotel, you guys are checking out now, you can come back and stay in the loft for a few days."
"That would be nice, we're in the Holiday Inn, ten minutes from his house," Kate replied as she gently ran her hand through his hair.
o0o
Kate slowly stepped out of the bedroom, the loft was fairly quiet, Roger sat by the table, a cup of coffee poised at his lips, he glanced up and smiled softly at her, "How's he doing?"
"Sleeping at the moment," smiled Kate as she moved over and took a seat beside him. Roger poured him a cup of coffee. "Thanks."
"So when did he buy a Jeep?"
Kate chuckled, "That's partly my fault; I talked him into it. He thought it would be too much, but I'd seen him eyeing it, so I goaded him into it."
"Makes sense, he can use it for the equipment, and for kids if he ever has them."
"That's what I said!" laughed Kate.
"You know Kate Webber; I'm starting to think you're okay."
"You're not so bad yourself Roger."
"So tell me about yourself, I know the few things you've told me."
"I'm from Ohio, felt the need to get away from home, or I'd be there forever—so I went to Chicago, where I met Mark nearly six weeks later. He quite literally swept me off my feet, he was hurrying through the halls of the Tribune, and I wasn't paying attention and we ran smack into each other," she said laughing softly.
"Leave it to Mark to actually sweep a woman off her feet and end up falling for her. Is the Tribune a legitimate place?"
"Like all stations, I think we've got a few bad people here and there, but for the most part we're all one big family. I love working there, even more so now having met Mark."
"He's a great guy," replied Roger softly. "He's been the little brother I never had. I can't imagine the past thirteen years without seeing his face."
As if on cue a lone figure stepped out of the bedroom, looking completely exhausted, his face was red and blotchy from all the crying he'd done. He walked over to the table, running a hand through his already messy hair, "You want some Captain Crunch?" Roger asked.
"What time is it?"
"Almost two in the afternoon; we brought you back here after the hospital, that took until noon and you've been sleeping for the past two hours. We thought you could use the rest."
"Yeah, s'pose you're right," he replied lightly, accepting the sudden bowl that Roger pushed in front of him.
"You need to put something in your stomach, according to Kate; you haven't eaten since last night."
"Not really hungry," murmured Mark as he looked down at the steel table.
"Mark, don't do this to your self, he's gone, he wasn't a real father. He won't ever bother you again."
"But what about my mom and sister. I mean granted I get along with them a little better than my father, but still—"
Roger sighed and reached out, gripping his best friend's hand, "Let's go down to the Life Café, forget the cereal you need real food."
"You said I'd gained weight," protected as Mark dragged the filmmaker to his feet.
"You did, but not nearly enough, come on. Kate, you coming?"
Kate smirked, "Love to!"
Mark walked between the two, Kate's arm wrapped securely around his waist. Roger led them down to the corner and opened the door. Kate's eyes grew wide as a large banner read "WELCOME HOME MARK". She glanced over at her boyfriend and bit her lip; tears had filled his eyes as he looked around. There stood Collins, Maureen, Joanne, and so many of their fellow Bohemians.
"Come here boy!" Collins cried as he grabbed his friend and yanked the younger man into a hug.
Kate watched, still beside Roger as Mark was greeted by his friends. She felt tears filling her own eyes at the sight, "He belongs here," she whimpered.
Roger slipped his arm around her shoulders, "He belongs where he's happy, we'll stay in touch. Besides, I can live anywhere I want—maybe you can convince me to move to Chicago."
"What about Collins, Maureen and Joanne?"
"Collins moves around all the time, Maureen and Joanne have each other. Mark has you; it's my turn to be the loner for awhile. Come on, let's join the party."
"Roger—I do love him, really I do but…"
"Don't worry, he loves you too, now come on."
