A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! Sorry this was so delayed. I hope what I have written isn't too boring or overdramatic. If it is…sorry to disappoint you. :) Please read and review! I love reviews to death!

Disclaimer: It's fan fiction. 'Nuff said.


Chapter Two: A Leap of Faith?

"Roger—no!"

The scream echoed across the roof, roaring passed the door and slamming into the unhearing ears of the sole occupant. Shredded hands, soaked in blood stretched out from the body of him, almost like the wings of an angel—a tormented and uncaringbeing Thin lines stretched down the exposed arms of the angel, some healed over multiple times, others barely looked like skin at all so overused they were.

His clouded eyes flickered down one of the lines, rage crushing his heart. This is what he had become. Nothing more than a scar of theEarth.A callused imprint. Romantized fantasies had been wrong once again. There was no pride or beauty in this kind of life he was living. Poor, starving, bleeding and sick. Always sick, sick, sick.

Green eyeslooked passed himself to world passing incessantly without him, not giving a care to the act he was about to commit.Cars flashed by, honking in irritation; pedestrians ambled along, some chatting carelessly with their friends; others peering unfriendly into the dark passages between buildings as if expecting certain death.

Fear, death, hurt…why did he need these things that haunted him? How could he finish the remaining days of his life with no one to love and no one to love him? How could he face a world so cold with no warmth in his veins? Was his dream really worth it? With no immortality? His invulnerability as shredded as his hands.

Green eyes flickered backto the tattered remains of his hands, wrecked from trying to escape his wearing thoughts through the walls. No longer was he the intrepid rebel ready to push his limits. No longer was he the bright eyed musician consumed with the beauty of sharing music and no longer was he the staunch friend who would defend anyone in need.

He had died.

He had died that day. He shook his head, feeling fresh tears spill down his cheeks. It was his time to follow her. Why the fuck didn't he do this sooner?

"Roger…oh fuck! NO!"

"I'm coming, April…" With one last look to the world he had already left, he shut his eyes and leaned forward. His feet teetered on the concrete lip before breaking free. He was so close…just---

"Roger!"

He felt his body falling back, feet planted firmly onto the ground, falling again—but this time, the other direction.

Fuck.

Arms had locked themselves around his chest and were pulling him away from the air…away from his freedom…No!

He unburied his voice from his chest, feeling the adrenaline that had once feed his veins so fervently fuel his shout.

"NO!" His eyes flew open as he twisted around in the vice grip. He stopped moving but the hold remained strong until he got his bloody hands round the 'lock' and wrenched it free. Ignoring the shocking pain traveling up his arms,he whipped around to face the adversary of his freedom.

"Roger, please, don't do this." Why did that voice sound so…familiar? Then he saw, his emerald eyes locked with blue and recognition screeched in his heart. Mark?

"Mark?" He took a step back. Mark…? Mark?

"Yes, Roger, it's Mark. What the hell were you thinking?"

Mark…? His hands clenched tightly at his sides, tearing open the lightly healed wounds. Fresh blood streamed. No, no, no. His Mark would understand. His Mark would let him do this because it was the right thing to do. This wasn't his Mark. This was some…traitor. Some traitor who had cheated him out of his only hope for happiness.

"No." The tone in his voice made Mark wince but he did not budge. "You would let me fall if you were really Mark."

"Roger, it is Mark and I never, ever want you to do something like that. I don't want you to die…shit Roger!" Roger moved faster than Mark could counter and squeezed Mark's neck between his hands, digging his fingers into the flushed skin. Mark made a noise akin to a sob and a shout while scraping Roger's hands away. The look Roger gave him was nothing like he had seen before. It was a look of pure death.

"No! You listen to me you bastard! Piece of worthless fuckin' shit! Why didn't you let me fall? Fuckin' tell me before I rip off your neck!" Mark coughed weakly as Roger viciously pushed him back against one of the pipes that punctuated the building's roof. The shock knocked all remaing air out of his lungs. He fought for air, knowing he wouldn't last much longer...

But no! He couldn't fail. He couldn't let Roger do this. It would destroy him before it destroyed Mark.

"Roger…" he whispered raggedly. "Please…d-don't…" He put his hands on Roger's again and this time, dug his fingernails deeply into the open cuts on Roger's hands. He cried out in pain, loosening his grip on Mark. Mark moved quickly, wrenching Roger's hands away and scrambling to get himself between Roger and the edge of the roof. He wasn't about to make that mistake again.

Roger looked up, a mix of tears and rage swimming in his eyes. Mark swallowed hard. This wasn't his Roger looking at him. This was some terrible creation of drugs and sorrow and disease. This wasn't Roger.

"Roger, I know you think this is the only way out."

"You don't know shit," Roger hissed and took a step toward him. Mark felt the blood drain from his body but he continued, taking a step forward as well.

"You're in pain. You're in so much pain. You think you have to deal with this—all of this by yourself. You think that your friends have left you to deal with April—

"—don't you dare say her name you—"

"And HIV and the drugs all alone. I know it seems so easy. It's so easy to take that step and end it all down there." He cast a hand toward the edge of the roof, taking another step toward the heaving Roger. "There will be no more pain and waiting and hurt. It's there. It's final. It's the last thing you have."

Roger remained silent and to Mark, this was even more unnerving than his voice but he continue anyways.

"But it's not the last thing you have, Roger. There is still another way. It is life but not the one you think you are running away from. This is a life full of friends and a home that will love you and help you. There are so many people who want to help you, Rog. There's me…" The heat in Roger's eyes dimmed slightly. "I want to help you because you're my friend and I know that I'm yours and if you let me, I will do exactly that. Everyone needs one more chance, haven't you always said that all it takes is one more try and eventually we'll get our break? Well, here's yours and I'm asking you please, please, for god's sakes, Rog, take it."

From the look in Roger's eyes,Mark knew he had struck a chord. Therush from the drugsdwindled asa flood of tears that fell down his face. Mark knew his looked no different but he didn't care enough to wipe them away. Instead, he opened his arms widely, beckoning softly.

"Come here, Rog."

It took a moment, no more, before the trembling body of the former rocker slammed into his chest. Sobs rattled his body from and for a long moment, nothing else filled the cold air of the rooftop.

"W-will she…?" Mark looked down at the voice from his arms; so small and weak like glass. He sighed sadly.

"Will she, what, Rog?" He asked softly, passing a gentle hand through man's rough hair.

"Will she be okay?" He knew whom he was referring to without asking.

"Yes, she will be okay." He paused to take a breath to steady himself. "She made her decision but not yours."

"It hurts." Mark felt more tears press against his eyes but he blinked them back this time. He needed to show Roger that he was strong.

"I know it hurts but it won't hurt as much in a while. Give it time, Rog. You're allowed to feel pain and scream and cry. You don't have to pretend to be happy. We all understand more than you know." They pulled away, but Mark kept his hands firmly planted on Roger's shoulders, staring softly into the agonized eyes.

"You're strong, Roger. You'll make it. We'll make it."

"Fuck, Mark…I'm…I'm so sorry I—"

"Shh." Mark placed a finger to the quivering lips. "I understand. You don't need to apologize for anything. It's not your fault, please believe that if nothing else; it's not your fault."

Roger nodded numbly even though he didn't fully believe the words. There were so many things he was the blame for, couldn't Mark see that?

But he said he would help. He wouldn't have to do this alone which must mean there must be something in him that he couldn't see yet but Mark could. What ever it was, he would have faith in him and Mark to find it.

"Come on, let's get your hands cleaned up."

And there would be no leap but of faith.


A/N: So what did you think? Like? I really hope you enjoyed it. I tried hard to capture the moment. Please review! Thank you!