Author's note: Anyone pissed off yet? Good. I'm glad. That was the intention. Moving on.
Roger was sitting up in bed, jotting things in a notebook. "Why the hell does this have to be so hard?" he muttered.
Collins poked his head in. "How you doing, man?"
"Been better."
"What are you doing?"
"Joanne told me I needed to work on my will. Not that a have a lot of stuff."
"Oh. How's it coming?"
"Considering that I don't want to do this, not bad. I can't decide what to do with April's stuff."
"You want my advice?"
"That'd be nice, if you don't mind."
"I got time. Marina's asleep. My advice? Give it to Firefly. She can proably use most of April's stuff, and they'll figure out what to do with the rest."
"Good advice. Thanks."
"No problem. Another thing, you should plan your funeral. Makes it easier on us when you're gone. If you ever go. You're awfully stubborn."
"I'll work on it."
Marina began to scream. Collins smiled. "That's my cue."
Flashback (August 30, 1989)
"I can't do this!" Roger flopped onto the worn couch, holding his needle. "Dammit, Mark, give me my shit!"
"No, Roger, come on, you can do this. What did we agree?"
"Cut the therapist bull, Cohen. Just give me my stash, and no one gets hurt."
"Roger…"
"Give me my fucking stash, Cohen!"
"Fine, you wanna screw up your life again? Go ahead. In fact, give me the needle, I'll join you!"
"No! I'm not letting you get AIDS too, Mark! No fucking way!"
"And that's why we agreed to get you clean."
"Yes." Roger looked down. "Sorry. I'm just…"
"It's hard, I know. But you can do it. I believe in you."
A small chuckle escaped Roger. "Damn, Cohen, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were gay."
End flashback
Roger was sound asleep, and Mimi smiled. She began to gather up his papers, glancing at one. It was marked 'Funeral.' Mimi sat down, skimming it.
I don't want an elaborate funeral. I really don't want one at all, but my friends and family need closure, I guess. Something small. I want to be buried next to Angel. Don't spend money on a fancy headstone. A simple one is fine. At the service, I want Jimi Hendrix's 'Angel' playing. If you must have flowers, get Mimi's favorites.
Mimi looked up. Roger stirred slightly, but didn't wake. Mimi smiled, setting the paper down. "I'm going to miss him," she muttered.
Flashback (October, 1989)
"I'm worried about him, Mo. He's clean, but…"
"Give him time, Marky. He'll be okay." Maureen smiled. "I mean. He won't just up and be over it. I mean, they were together since high school."
"I know…" Mark glanced over at roger, who was clearly ignoring them. "I mean, I figured once he was clean, he'd play again, but…"
Maureen nodded. "I mean it, Pookie. Give him time. Come on, I'll buy lunch. Hey, Davis!"
Roger glanced up. "What?"
"Come to lunch with us. My treat."
"No, thanks. I'll pass."
"See what I mean?" Mark mumbled. He glanced back at Roger. "Take your AZT." Roger barely nodded. Mark bit his lip. "He really needs help, Mo."
End flashback