Collins had to leave in the morning. Roger's face wrinkled with worry and his hands shook. Collins patted his back and tossed his bag into the waiting cab.
"I'll be back in a week, man. You'll be fine, okay?" Roger nodded. "You call me if you need anything. Even if it's just to talk."
"Thanks, Thomas."
Collins laughed. Roger was the only one who ever called him Thomas. And the only one who wouldn't get his ass kicked for it. Collins hugged him and promised to return soon. Maureen and Mark said a quick goodbye to him and the trio headed back up to the loft. Roger went straight to the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee.
"You guys want?"
"I'll take a cup," Mark said. Maureen shook her head.
They sat at the card table that served as their dining room, no one quite sure what to say. Maureen rubbed her temples lightly.
"You okay, baby?" Mark asked.
"Huh?"
"You're rubbing your head. Got a headache?"
"Yeah."
"Here, let me get you something."
Mark returned with a couple Tylenols and a glass of water. Maureen smiled, taking them quickly.
"You want me to make you something to eat?" Mark asked.
"No, no. I'm fine."
"You sure? I mean, we didn't have time to eat breakfast this morning and it's past noon…maybe your head would feel better if you ate something."
"No, I'm fine, pookie. Really. It's just a headache. I'm fine."
"Okay. You want to go lie down?"
"Maybe just on the couch for a little bit," she said.
Mark helped her to her feet and led her to the couch. In minutes, she was asleep. He went back to Roger at the table and sighed.
"Thanks," Roger said.
"For…."
"This. Everything."
"Best friends."
"Brothers forever."
Mark nodded. "You still have to tell them though."
"I will, I will. I just….I need some time, you know?"
He nodded again. "You get the prescriptions?"
"In my pocket. We can't afford—"
"Give 'em to me."
"Mark, you can't afford it either."
"I'll find a way."
"Mark—"
"Roger, let me take care of it. You need this stuff, okay?"
Roger hesitated but nodded and pulled a slip of paper from his wallet. He handed it over and Mark read the doctor's scrawled handwriting.
"Zido-what?"
"I dunno how you say it. AZT. That's the common name for it."
"AZT. Okay. Did they give you any papers about it or anything?"
Roger nodded. "It's in my room."
"Mind if I look through 'em?"
"Sure, I'll go get 'em," Roger said. He left the table only to return a minute later with a thick stack.
Mark took the stack of papers and pamphlets. The titles alone were enough to terrify anyone with half a brain. Dealing with AIDS. HIV: The Facts. AIDS/HIV: What You Need to Know. Diagnosed: HIV/AIDS. The Truth about AIDS. Mark couldn't help but shutter.
"Fun stuff, huh?"
Mark looked up. "Sorry…just…these titles. It's like they try to scare the hell out of you."
"Or the AIDS," Roger said with a small grin.
"You really gonna make jokes about this?"
Roger shrugged. "Don't see why not. Just a virus."
"Roger, it's not 'just a virus.' This is something you're going to have forever."
"No shit, Cohen. Just like you have allergies forever."
"Rog, no. This isn't the same. Do you know what HIV is? Did the doctor explain it to you?"
"He explained enough."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning I know that I'm gonna die and there's nothing the doctors or anybody else can do about it."
Mark bit his lip, trying to find something to say. Roger was right: he was going to die. Nothing Mark said or did, nothing anyone said or did, would change that. Just a matter of time. Roger scowled, glaring at the window.
"Part of me hates her," he whispered.
"What? Who?"
"April," he said, not turning to look at Mark.
"Part of you hates her?"
"Crazy, huh? Love of my life and part of me hates her. Part of me wishes I'd never met her. Part of me wishes she was still alive just so I could scream at her and shake her and tell her she ruined my life."
Mark frowned, not understanding. "Ruined your life?"
"Don't you get it? She did this to me."
"You mean the drugs?"
"All of it….the drugs, the HIV…I'm going to die because I loved her. I'm going to die because she had it and she didn't tell me. I-I….God, Mark….I'm so pissed…."
Mark felt anger rising in his own heart. "How do you know she had it?"
"The note said 'we' have AIDS. Not me alone, not her alone, 'we.' I…when the band was touring and people were contracting it left and right, we all got tested. I was negative. I'd never touched a needle before her and I didn't sleep around. She's the only woman I've ever been with that I didn't use a condom."
"Roger, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Maureen asked.
The men exchanged a fearful glance. How much had she heard? Before Mark could answer her, Maureen had crossed the room to them and perched in his lap.
"Oh, for, uh…" Mark stuttered, trying to come up with an answer.
"For eating the last of the Captain Crunch," Roger said.
"Yeah…I didn't mean to."
Maureen laughed. "Well, I'll pick up more later. You guys okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Why?" Roger asked.
"Because you're both all fidgety and jumpy."
"Mark's always fidgety and jumpy."
Mark flipped him off, laughing.
"Yeah but you're not. You okay, Rog?"
He nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a little wired from the coffee."
Maureen studied his face a minute. "You know I can tell when you're lying, Davis."
"I know."
She frowned and stood up. Grabbing her coat and purse, she gave a small smile. "I'm going to the store. Need anything besides Captain Crunch?"
"Maybe some milk?" Mark suggested.
"Okay."
Maureen turned and left before either could offer to go with her.
