Okay, no one guessed it. But because I love you so much, this chapter is dedicated to all my reviewers. The play, by the way (haha, rhyme) was The Importance of Being Earnest, which I am performing in in…9 days! So forgive me if I don't post for a while. The original line was, "Don't be cynical, it's perfectly easy to be cynical!" If you haven't read it, you should. It's good stuff.

Disclaimer: If I owned Mark, later on, when we get to the part where I strip him, I wouldn't be trying my hardest not to look at him. In other words, Jonathon Larson owns all.

Chapter 10: Lying, Just Laying

I want to confiscate your drugs
I don't think I can get enough

-Take a Wild Guess, Duh (We Are All On Drugs, Weezer)

Even getting Mark up the stairs wasn't as hard as it should've been. He laid the still shivering Mark on the couch. "Mark? Open your eyes, we're home. Mark." Roger patted his face. "Mark, open your eyes." When he still didn't listen, Roger began to get worried. "Mark, open your fucking eyes. Mark!"

Slowly, Mark's eyes fluttered open. "Yeah?"

Roger let out the breath he'd been holding. "Fuck Mark, you scared me!" He grabbed the closest thing, a phonebook and flung it across the room. "Fuck!" He yelled.

"Roger," Mark curled into himself a little more. "I'm cold. And you're scaring me."

"I'm scaring you?" Roger laughed a little crazily. "I'm scaring you?" He let out a torrent of swears, they came one after another in a steady stream. "Fuck!" He finished quietly.

But Mark didn't answer. Didn't react. Just kept on shivering, whether from withdrawal or the cold, Roger couldn't tell.

"And once again, the prize for biggest asshole goes to…"Roger muttered under his breath. While you were busy cursing the world he was trying to keep warm.

Running around the loft Roger gathered all the blankets in the house. He was suddenly glad that Maureen hadn't come to pick up the rest of her things; she'd left several fluffy cow covered blankets behind. Lying them on Mark's bed, he wrapped the blonde up in them tightly, making sure that there was no way he could work himself out of them.

But after that, Roger was at a loss. He knew that taking Mark to a hospital wasn't feasible, they were beyond broke and there would be too many questions. But he was afraid to do anything else without knowing how it would affect Mark. Quickly, he dialed Collins' number and prayed that he'd be there.

"Collins!" He breathed with relief the moment the professor picked up. "Hypothetical question, if someone has hypothermia, what do you do?"

Roger could almost hear Collins' frowning over the phone line. "Roger, New York is cold, but not that cold-"

"Please Collins!" He yelled into the phone. "Can you just tell me?"

"Well…wrap them in blankets," Roger made a mental check next to that. "Give them something warm to drink, but not too warm or else they'll go into shock. And a warm bath. That should do it. Any specific reason you wanna know?"

The moment Collins stopped talking Roger hung up the phone and went about to do what he'd suggested. "Mark, I'm gonna get you something to drink and I want you to drink all of it, okay?" Mark nodded and Roger went into the kitchen to make some tea.

"Here," Roger didn't really have to worry about the water being too hot, that was a luxury he didn't even dare dream of. Slowly Mark downed the cup, as Roger filled the tub with warm water.

"Can I go to sleep now?" He asked wearily.

"Uh, not now. In a little while," Roger struggled to get Mark out of his clothes. "First you're going to take a bath, okay?" He picked his friend up gingerly, trying desperately not to hurt him. Slowly he stripped him down.

"Brr," Mark shivered again.

"It's okay, you'll be okay," Roger didn't even pause when he reached the fly of Mark's jeans, rather he unzipped it deftly trying his hardest not to focus on Mark's shriveled organ. "You ready? Let's go."

MRMRMRMRMRMR

When Mark woke up, he wasn't shivering. Wasn't even experiencing the cold sweat that usually accompanied a period without drugs. Groaning, he turned over on his bed, taking all the blankets with him. Roger was sitting in the corner of the room, looking out the window pensively. With a flash Mark remembered a little of what he'd said the day before. All he clearly remembered was being cold, being so deathly cold until Roger had somehow made him warm again. And he remembered being a little too loose with his tongue, telling Roger he loved him, wanting to call his mother.

Mark rolled his eyes at his last thought. Roger must've known he was out of it, wanting to call his mother was a sure sign of insanity.

"You're up," Roger looked at Mark before he had a chance to close his eyes again and feign sleep.

"Yeah."

"Feeling better?" He asked, turning his attention back to the window.

"Uh, yeah. Except I can't really move," Mark attempted a weak smile.

"I'm not sure if that's a bad thing," Roger muttered. "Now that you can't move, I think I'll ask you a few questions."

"Rog, I've got to pee."

"Well that's too fucking bad, isn't it?" Roger composed himself. "Just answer a few questions and then you can go."

Mark tried to free himself but Roger had made sure he wouldn't be able to. "Okay. What do you want to know?" He asked quietly.

"Everything."

"Well shit Roger, gimme a place to start! This is hard enough without you adding to it."

Roger was silent for a moment before asking his first question. "When did you start?"

"Do you remember that night? April was at her own apartment for once and we had the whole apartment to ourselves? Benny and Collins were shopping and Maureen was taking care of 'legal issues'." Mark laughed a little at the last one. "Yeah…and you got high and you left more in the needle. That's when."

Roger did remember. He remembered thinking that Mark was safe, that Mark wouldn't be stupid enough to take his offer. He'd been wrong.

"It started out small, but then…shit happened, you know? And I was using more and shit Rog, I've really gotta go."

Exasperatedly, Roger unwrapped Mark from his shroud. Mark scampered to the bathroom but Roger was faster, putting his arm over the door before Mark could get in. "You get five minutes," he said. "Any more and I'll come in, decent or not."

Mark bit back any protestations he might've thought about making. Hadn't he done the same thing?

Through the door he could hear Roger on the phone with someone. The tail end of the conversation drifted in.

"Yeah, I found out what's going on." Mark could almost hear Roger running his fingers through his hair.

"It's…my problem Collins. Bad or not, I'm the one who has to deal with it."

Roger had been talking to Collins about him? How long had he suspected about the drugs? Apparently Mark hadn't been as sneaky as he'd thought.

"No, no, I'll be fine. We'll get through this. Somehow."

Mark made a ruckus as he washed his hands so Roger would know he was done. He slipped from the bathroom as if he hadn't heard a word.

Roger was sitting at the table when Mark emerged. His hands were folded solemnly before him. He looked so much older than his twenty three years and Mark couldn't help but feel intimidated. "Sit down."

Mark did as he was told.

"I want you to give me the money that guy gave you." It was Roger's first reference to the scene he'd walked in on the day before.

"I don't have it," Mark said meekly.

"What?"

"I-" Mark cleared his throat and spoke strongly and clearly. "I don't have it."

The vein in Roger's temple throbbed and his jaw tightened. His voice however, remained even. "Where is it?"

"I spent it-" Mark began.

"Fuck Mark! On more?"

"Yes," he rushed on. "But I don't have any more, I swear!"

"Why should I believe you?" Roger asked harshly.

"When you found me…I'd just been mugged." By the look on Roger's face it was likely he'd forgotten precisely how he'd found Mark. "I was stupid, I snorted some of it in the open and someone must've seen me. They took it all Roger. I swear."

Roger seemed somewhat satisfied with the response. "Mark," he began slowly. "I think you should go to rehab."