Author's note: Kris here. I just figured id bring this up to you guys, because ive been questioned/yelled about it in the past, and im not about to let history repeat itself. despite what anyone puts in the reviews, or predicts, or suggests, i dont take feedback to put IN to my stories. This fic has been pre-planned even before I started writing it. all ideas are mine, and mine alone. im not following what people say to make my readers happy. If you guess something in a review, and it happens, its just a lucky coincidence. This has been a PSA. Sidenote: all chapters from now on will be a week apart, unless something comes up, or I get lazy. -krisrog out-

Roger pov:

The next morning, I woke up on the floor of my room, a loud scream escaping my throat as I was jolted from my nightmares. This had been going on ever since I managed to pass out after hearing the news yesterday. My door had been locked all night, despite Collins and Maureen begging me to let them in. I didn't want them. I didn't want anyone.

Everyone I love always leaves. First April, then Mimi for that yuppie scum, and then Mark. Mark wasn't supposed to die first. He had more potential than any of us. As soon as we all died, and Maureen and Joanne went their own way, I made him promise that he'd make something of himself. I made him promise he'd get out of this awful neighborhood. I made him promise that he'd get himself a nice apartment with heat. I told him he was to make a wage he could live comfortably on. He knew he was to take care of himself after I died.

However, we also discussed the fact that he could die first. I remember when we first had that talk. It was after he got sent flying off his bike by a taxi, and ended up in the hospital with (thankfully) only a broken leg. I was worried out of my mind, though. We weren't dating yet, but that didn't stop me from fussing over my best friend.

"Roger… Roger, wake up…" I jumped as I lifted my head from the hospital bed. I had pulled up a chair to Mark's bed, and fallen asleep slumped over his blanket covered legs. He smiled down at me, ruffling my hair.

"M-Mark!" I yelped, looking him over. "How are you feeling? are you okay? do you need anything? can I get the nurse? tell her your-"

"Shhhh…." he hushed me, beginning to stroke my hair. I instantly relaxed. He knew that was one of my weaknesses. "Roger, i'm fine… it's just a broken leg…"

"But it could have been a lot worse…" I muttered, looking up at him.

"Yes… youre right. it could have been… but it wasnt."

"But what if it wasn't!?" I cried. He chuckled lightly.

"Roger…. worrying is MY job…"

I lowered my head, huffing. Mark spoke up once more.

"Roger… I know it could have been awful…" I blinked up at him. "But if it was, you would have been fine…"

"No.." I whispered. "I need you, Mark."

"Roger…. if this ever happened again…"

"It better not."

"Roger."

I looked at him in the eyes. He sighed.

"If I go first… since we never know how much time we have left… you're taking care of yourself." his voice turned stern. "Youre taking your AZT. Youre eating. Youre getting out of the house. Youre going to live, dammit. You better promise me right now."

I flinched under his icy gaze. I heaved a sigh.

"Yes, Mark." he leaned down, kissing my head, and I couldn't stop a blush from creeping into my cheeks.

We couldn't talk anymore, however, because Maureen suddenly burst in, beginning to fuss over the smaller man. I rolled my eyes, and winked at him. He winked back, and I left to go sneak him some real food in, rather than hospital garbage.

As I continued to sulk on the floor, his words began hitting me. "Youre taking care of yourself…" I rubbed my red, puffy eyes.

"Youre taking your AZT…" I eyed the dusty bottle on my nightstand, and reached for it, popping two of the pills into my mouth, and swallowing.

"You're eating…" The thought of food made me sick, but I realized I hadn't eaten anything in almost two days. I gritted my teeth, steadying myself, and getting to my feet. Everything was blurry for a second, but I made my way towards the door, and unlocked it. I walked out into the living room, and made myself a bowl of cereal. I put the coffee on the hotplate, and began to slowly eat. Collins and Maureen watched me with shock.

I finished the whole bowl. I took a cup of coffee. It was a small step, but Mark would be proud. I know he would be. I started for my room again. I closed the door behind me, but this time, I left it unlocked. I picked Mark's scarf up from the nightstand, and wound it around my neck. It still smelled like him. I almost started crying again, but a part of me kept the tears in.

"Be strong for Mark…" my mind repeated, and I closed my eyes tightly. I took a shaking sip from my coffee, and pulled the blanket around myself.

A few hours passed, and before I knew it, it was night again. I didn't hear my door open, nor did I notice the lawyer sit beside me until her voice snapped me from my daze.

"Life's funny… isn't it?" I ignored her, casting her a glare before curling more into myself, and clutching Mark's scarf tightly. I sighed. "I don't think it's him, Roger."

I looked at her for a second. "What proof do you have?"

"I just have a feeling." She whispered. I snorted.

"Well, take your "Feeling" to the cops, and make em keep the case open, then!" I got up, walking over to my window, and staring out.

"He would never give up on you…. so why are you giving up on him?" she asked, and I turned around to glare at her.

"Joanne! It's been FIVE MONTHS! I have no idea where he's been, what he's been through! there isn't any hope left, and you know it!"

"You're Not the Roger that Mark would rave about to me…. at least, not anymore."

"The fuck are you talking about!?" I snapped.

"The Roger that Mark loves wouldnt stop just because of something like this. He would never give up so easily. There's still DNA testing to be done. Your search isn't over until his name goes in the paper as the owner of those remains."

"What am I supposed to do, Joanne? enlighten me. You honestly think those lazy sons of bitches in the NYPD are gonna do anything for us? the case has gone cold. We got the call this morning."

"Youre wrong. The case has been re-opened."

I looked at her with a quirked brow. "How do you know that?"

"Because, I was the one who re-opened it. Im persuasive. Its the reason i'm a lawyer. Now. We have one month to come up with a lead, or the investigation is to be stopped for good."

My eyes went wide. "Joanne… t-thank you…"

"Dont thank me. Mark is our boy. We're bringing him home, no matter what it takes. Even if it comes to the worst, i'm determined to give you some sort of peace." I nodded.

"But… where do we even start?" I asked, sitting back on the bed.

"Well, for one, the DNA test could prove something. I pushed them so much, they sent it through. Unfortunately for us, its gonna take at least three months to come back…"

"THREE MONTHS!?" I screamed. "Thats not gonna help us keep the investigation going! not at all!"

"But…" she began. "As long as we find something else to stall, we can have that time. The DNA results come in, and we keep searching."

"I still dont understand. There is a very good chance that those remains are Mark's. Same with the glasses." I muttered.

"Roger, how many people wear glasses in the city? and trust me. I rely on my instincts for most of my cases, and I haven't lost one yet. We're never gonna know unless we try." she stepped forward. "Now… are you gonna help us, or not?"

I pulled her into a tight hug. She smiled, returning it. I stepped back. "You bet your ass I am. This isnt over. Not yet."

We both walked out of my room to find Collins and Maureen waiting.

"Grab the fliers, and Collins, get your keys." I murmured. "We have a month to convince those pigs we deserve more time." I slipped on my leather jacket, and wound my lover's scarf tighter around my neck.

The search was alive once more, but as we drove down the quiet city streets, I hoped to whoever was watching all of this that Mark would be too.