Roger pov:
Mark. Mark. Mark. Mark. Suddenly, Mark is wrapped around me, kissing me, holding me, and I feel as if my entire life has meaning again. I started crying myself, breathing in his familiar scent, and laughing happily.
It wasn't long before our joyful reunion was cut short, though. Cops suddenly held me back as they forced a screaming Mark onto a gurney. I knew he needed medical attention, but was now really the time?
I begged and begged to ride in the ambulance, but all they told me was the hospital they were taking him to as police began sifting through the rubble, and trying to question me. I ran out with Collins. He hopped in his car, and we sped off as fast as possible.
The minute we got to the hospital, I ran to the nurse's station.
"Mark Cohen… " I panted. "Room?"
She looked up at me, before turning to check her computer.
"They just took mister Cohen in to treat his injuries. You'll have to wait."
"But…"
Collins rested a hand on my shoulder. I sighed.
"Okay…"
I walked into the waiting room with him, and buried my face in my hands. He began rubbing my back, murmuring comforting words into my ear.
"I had him, Collins… he… he was…" I curled in on myself. All I wanted was to hold Mark longer, to hear his voice. I promised myself that when I saw him again, they would have to pry him away from me. Anywhere he went next, so did I. I kept glancing from the floor to the doors.
It wasn't long before I was pacing the waiting room and corridors, my hands shaking, trying to get a grip.