katydid13: Thank you

Brown eyed Girl 75: Thank you, and don't worry, they're working on it. Not much mention of the baby in this chapter, mostly Viv, Craig, and Mark here. Thank you so much for the review

rejazzz: You can hug Mark if you want. You'll get to see what happened in this chapter. Thanks for the review.

Special thanks to BEG75 for her help on this chapter. (big hugs)

ooOoo

I am the fountain of affection, I'm the instrument of joy, to keep the good times rolling. I'm the boy, I'm the boy. You know the world could be our oyster… if you just put your trust in me, cause we'll keep the good times rolling. Wait and see, wait and see, oh wait and see…

When I'm Up- Great Big Sea

ooOoo

"Oh Jesus…" I muttered, hugging him close. "What happened?"

"Not so much what happened. It was what did she do?"

"Okay then, what did she do?" I nodded.

"She overdosed on sleeping pills," there were tear streaks down his cheeks. "Told me she couldn't go on anymore but at the same time didn't want to leave me. Whatever it was that was going on in her head at that point, she wouldn't tell me, but I had her swear she wouldn't do anything rash. 'I'll ask one of the professors if he knows someone who can help,' I told her. Professor MacMillan, brilliant professor in psychology, he had to know someone, get me a contact number at the very least…" He paused, grabbing another tissue and wiping his nose. "I got home that day and three minutes after I got in the door I got a phone call. It was Paula, and her breathing was so shallow I could barely recognize her voice."

I took a sip of my tea. It was getting cold, and I'd steeped it for far too long. Still, I wasn't getting up to pour it down the sink, not when Mark so desperately needed a friend.

"I knew something was wrong right away, so I told her I'd be over there as soon as I could, and hung up. Her apartment was just a block or so away from mine, so I called for an ambulance and ran over to her place. I got there and she was hunched against the table still cradling the phone. Whispering 'Mark, I need you. Where are you? Mark…' She didn't recognize that I'd hung up the phone…" his voice was cracking.

I didn't like the way this story was going. I mean, I know he'd just told me she'd died, but this was almost unbearable to hear.

"So I hung up the phone and laid her against the cabinet. I slapped her face, calling her name, trying to see if I could get any response whatsoever. I wrapped her in a blanket, kept trying, kept trying, still nothing. The ambulance was on its way, but she was going too quickly. She moved so slowly when she reached up to touch my face. She whispered 'Don't try to save me, I love you…' and then…"

I remained silent.

"I watched her die," his voice broke. "Oh God, Viv, I watched her die!" It was then that he dissolved into tears. Wrapping him in my arms, he sobbed against my shoulder. I'll admit I was nearly crying now too. Poor guy, he was so quiet and timid with other people but one of the most aggressive players I'd ever known on the ice. Now to have to deal with a loved one dying… he doesn't deserve it, no one deserves to go through something like that.

"Viv?" Craig whispered, tapping my shoulder as Mark sobbed. "I've put Ryan down for a nap. Want me to do anything?"

I nodded, mouthing 'tea mugs, kitchen sink, dishes'. He complied, disappearing into the kitchen as quickly as he'd come.

Sitting up again, Mark did not let go, but bent his head toward me. Just as he came close, I pressed a finger to his lips.

"Mark, no…" I whispered. "Don't do something you're going to regret…"

"I'm so alone, Viv…" he whispered back. "I don't have anyone. Please, just…"

"I can't," I shook my head. "I love Craig, Mark. And if I kiss you we'll both regret it. You're tired and you're in shock. Kissing me isn't going to make the pain disappear."

"I don't know what to do…"

"Here," I handed him a tissue. "Did you get that contact number from… what's his name?"

"MacMillan? Yeah, I got it…" he breathed.

"Good, that's a good thing," I held out my hand. "Give it here."

He dug into his pocket and produced a piece of paper. Once I had it, I unfolded it and had a look.

"Doctor Francis Tyler? Oh, come on now!" I shook my head.

"What? Something wrong?"

"No, that's brilliant!" I smiled briefly. "Tyler's a good doctor, but really… why didn't you call him as soon as this happened?"

"I didn't think of it till now. Forgot I had it."

"Well, grief can do that to you, I…" I stared at the piece of paper a little longer. "Hold on a minute!"

"What?"

"Call them first thing in the morning."

"Why?"

"It's exactly what you need, Mark," I answered. "Doctor Taylor is one of the best doctors in New York, and I know that based on recommendations for Craig."

"Why would Craig…"

"Never mind that," I brushed it off quickly. "This is probably your only chance, Mark, to put your life back together."

"That's why I came to you," his eyes were pleading with me. Don't send me to a shrink, they said. I want to stay here with you.

"You came to us for help, and that's what we're doing, we're getting you help." I kissed his forehead. "We can't be your saviours, Mark, but Craig and I can support you."

"But… I thought…"

"What did you think? That you'd stay in our spare room and mope about till the depression gets so bad you can't bring yourself to get out of bed?" I wasn't angry, unfortunately my voice betrayed my actual feelings. "Craig and I have Ryan to think about, Mark. Any amount of negative energy, depressive states, he'll pick up on that, and soon he'll start thinking that it's okay for Mummy and Daddy to have suicidal bogeymen staying in the house." I took a deep breath. "That's not to say that you can't stay here, we've got a spare room, because that's no problem, but you really have to watch yourself around the baby."

He nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Come on," I inched closer to him on the couch and put an arm around his shoulder. "You get into the shower and I'll make up the spare bedroom."

He got up and grabbed his duffel bag. I led him up the stairs to the bathroom, and got him a towel out of the linen closet. "Okay, now the thing about the shower… it's got a bit of a temperature problem. We turned it down for when we give Ryan his bath. Still warm enough, but if it runs out, don't worry about it, just finish quickly."

"Alright," he answered, sounding a little bit wary.

I smiled. "Don't worry, you'll be fine…"

I closed the door between us and went back down the stairs. Craig was standing in front of the sink, drying the dishes.

"He alright?"

"He's got a contact number in his pocket, he's gonna call them in the morning," I answered. "Ryan fussing at all?"

"He did a bit, but once he got his dummy and a cuddle with Daddy, he was fine." Craig turned and held me by the forearms. "Not my business what happened to him, but how's this going to work?"

"I thought he could stay in the guest bedroom till he gets back on his feet." I answered.

"We'll have to find another place for Ryan's stuff if we do that," he answered.

"That's what the closet is for," I smiled, "Look, if you're uncomfortable with him staying here, we'll find him a motel room."

"Those things are disgusting. And unless he has a good support system in place, anything could happen," Craig paused. "Does he?"

"I think we're it," I answered.

Craig's face dropped.

"And what do you mean, not your business?" I was a little put off by that. "Did he say anything to you in the car?"

He looked at me blankly.

"When he showed up at the arena, what did he tell you?"

Craig shook his head.

"Just be honest with me. It can't be worse than what he told me."

"His girlfriend killed herself, did he tell you that?"

I nodded.

"Did he tell you he's depressed?"

"That was obvious. That's why he's going to use that contact number."

"Did he tell you he fell so behind on his rent he was evicted three months ago?"

I stopped. "That I didn't hear." I shook my head. "But wait a minute, when he told me what happened with Paula, he said he ran from his place to hers just down the street. That doesn't make sense."

"Viv, it happened three months ago."

"He's been carrying this around on his conscience for three months? Why didn't he get help?"

"I don't know," Craig shook his head.

"His parents?"

"Maybe he felt he couldn't trust them. Maybe he didn't know how to tell them, I don't know…"

"No one should have to go through it on their own," I answered. "I mean, after Gary died I had a hard enough time as it was, even with my mom's support. Even now that we have Ryan, even though she doesn't see him all that often I can't imagine not having her around just to call and say hello."

I could feel tears welling. Immediately I felt guilty. Did I have the right to feel guilty?

"Hey," Craig put down the dishcloth and pulled me to him. "Look, at least Mark asked for help and acknowledged that something's wrong. That's the first step."

I took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm going to go check on Ryan," I told him, heading up the stairs as quick as I could.