A/N: Sorry I haven't updated this. I was too busy working on my other fics. And the fun part is, I've had it in my notebook for weeks!

Oh, and if you were looking for Me and My Guitar, it's under my favorites.

OK, this chapter is Mimi's POV.

Slitting her Wrists in the Bathroom?

I Die Without You

"Hi there, whoever you are! You have reached April Erikkson, which you probably know if you called this number! If you didn't realize that, you messed up BIG time and dialed a wrong number. However, if you were actually trying to call me, there's gonna be a beep soon. I think you know what to do."

"I got her answering machine!" I called to Maureen and Joanne.

"Leave a message," Maureen told me as she walked past with her arms full of bags of chips. "She might screen."

I took a deep breath. "Hey, April, this is Mimi. We were all gonna have a party at the loft later, and I was…"

"Hey, Mimi," said April, picking up the phone. I relaxed.

"Can you come?" I asked, secretly hoping she couldn't.

"What time?"

"Say, seven?"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Nah. Only if you want to."

We hung up.

"She's coming," I told Mo and Jo.

"Great! Which means we need to finish cleaning fast, before the guys get back," said Joanne.

Maureen shoved everything into a closet. "It's clean."

Joanne glared at her. "Is not."

I quickly butted in. "I'm still confused about the whole April thing. Roger won't…"

"He's not going anywhere, Mimi," Maureen reassured me.

I twisted my ring around my finger. "I don't know…"

"What happened between them anyway?" asked Joanne.

"Well," said Maureen, "it's a long story…"

Joanne and I sat at Maureen's feet like preschoolers during story-time.

Mo chuckled. "Well, Roger and April were together in their senior year of high school. Actually, I was in the same high school as them. They were kinda the bad crowd…"

"No surprises there," noted Joanne. I kicked her.

"Will you let me finish? Well, a couple years after graduation, they moved here, to this very loft, together. The neighbor's that used to live in your place," she said, pointing at me, "gave April her first taste of smack. The story goes that in high school she used to eat Twinkies all the time. So instead of eating, she used smack. But I'm rambling.

"Anyway, April got Roger addicted, and several months later, Roger met Mark, and Mark moved in. That same day, April discovered that she was pregnant with her and Roger's child, and their old friend Marty called with news that she had AIDS."

"Talk about a big day," I muttered to Joanne. She shushed me.

None of us noticed the guys walk in.

By now, Maureen was really getting into the story. "April tried to quit. But she couldn't. So one day, she was about six months along, so you could tell she was expecting, she went out to get herself and Roger some smack. But on the way home…"

Collins joined in. "She was mugged."

Maureen looked around. She smiled innocently.

Roger looked more sorrowful than I'd ever seen him. I hated that look of helplessness I saw on his face. I got up, walked over to him, and gave him a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Roger. I just wanted to know."

"It's no trouble," Roger lied. "Finish the story, one of you."

Maureen and Collins looked at each other. "You go ahead," Maureen said, surprising all of us. "You were actually there."

Collins took a deep breath. "Well, I saw everyone going after her. I didn't know who she was, but I was right near a payphone, and she was expecting to have a baby, so I did the best thing I could think of. I called 911, and once that was done, I chased all the men who were beating her away. She was all purple, and horribly bruised. I sat by her, holding her head in my lap, until the ambulance came."

The door was still open, and who should walk in but April. She carried a pan of brownies, and she just stared at Collins as he told her story. I could very well have been the only one who noticed her.

"I rode with her in the back of the ambulance. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and whenever she woke up, she was whispering, 'Roger, Roger Davis.'" He sighed. "When we got to the hospital, the doctors told me to call Roger Davis. I didn't really know who that was, but I called anyway. Thank heaven for the yellow pages!" He laughed weakly. "So, I called, and Roger and Mark came to the hospital. Shortly after they arrived, a nurse came out and told Roger that his son was delivered prematurely by C-section, because that was the only chance they had to save him. Roger insisted that we be let into her room. The nurse gave in.

"April woke up about twenty minutes later. She was frantic with worry, more about her son than herself. Introductions were made, and then the nurse came in, insisting that she needed to talk to April alone. So we left. I really don't know what was said between the two of them, do either of you know?" Collins asked Mark and Roger. They shook their heads.

"She told me that the chances of my baby living longer than a month were slim to none," April said, still grasping the brownies. Her mascara was running down her face. It was obvious that while Collins was talking, she'd been crying.

"April!" gasped Collins. "When did you get here?"

"Around the time you were talking about riding with me in the ambulance."

"Can I finish the story?" asked Collins. "Meems, Jo, and Angel have a right to know."

April nodded. Her knuckles were white from clutching the tray so tightly.

"Well, after that, we went back in the room, and the nurse brought the baby in."

April took a deep breath, clearly trying not to cry out loud. "He was so little… tiny. Unnaturally so. And he wasn't the right color, either. More purple than anything. And I reached in, gloves on my hands, to touch my son… and he wasn't warm." She finally broke down into sobs.

Angel walked over and relieved April of the brownies.

"It was awful. That was the scariest day of my life. Nothing can ever be as awful as reaching out to touch your child and feeling that he's unresponsive. Dead. And it was all my fault…"

So much for us all having a party.