A/N: okay, so I was listening to both soundtracks before working on the opening scenes of this chapter (the stage version and the film) and watched the two scenes to get the hang of it. It ended up resembling none of them, so in case you find discrepancies there, I'm well aware of those. Consider it my personal contribution to the sequence of events, for the sake of the story :)

Please review! And happy holidays, everyone!

19- Second Chance

"Jo, we need to talk."

Joanne glanced at her questionably and nodded. "I'm listening."

But now when she had Joanne's full attention, she didn't know where, or how, to begin. "Well, I… I've been thinking. About us."

"Ah-huh?"

God, this was even worse than the day she broke up with Mark. "I… don't know how to say this. I think we should-"

A gasp stopped her mid-sentence, and she looked up at Joanne, puzzled. Did she already guess it and was about to protest? It would make it even more difficult, trying to remain assertive. But then before she knew it, Joanne left her side and hurried forward along the path, towards what looked like a rumpled bundle of old blankets leaning against a tree at the side of the road. Her forehead cringed in confusion, and she wondered what the hell Joanne was-

She watched Joanne as she knelt by the bundle, and suddenly it dawned on her. She started running. She knelt next to Joanne, who was trying to speak with the young woman who sat there, shivering violently under the blanket.

"Mimi? Honey, it's Jo, can you hear me?"

"Mimi…" she whispered. She couldn't believe this was Mimi. Yeah, the features seemed to fit, but she looked so fragile, so thin- thinner than usual, that is. Her lips were in a sickly bluish color. She looked bad. Where has she been? Was she living in the street? For how long?

"Meems, come on, open your eyes, look at me," Joanne persisted, her voice pleading, filled with emotion. She knew that the same thought crossed their minds. They couldn't lose Mimi, too. Not when the painful memory of Angel's death was still so fresh in their minds.

They both held their breaths when Mimi's eyes fluttered open. It looked as if that alone was painful for her, but she managed a glance at them. She looked extremely disoriented, yet she seemed to recognize them. She opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't manage to utter more than a small sound before she was taken by a fit of coughs. Joanne turned to give her a look. It looked bad.

"That's okay, sweetie," she murmured, her panic rising. They must do something, and fast. They were running out of time. They must get Roger somehow. But they couldn't possibly leave Mimi there alone. She thought for a moment. They were halfway to the loft already. Could they carry her? She seemed to have lost a considerable weight, but she still doubted they could. But they had to. Roger should tell her… He couldn't lose Mimi, too.

"Meems, honey, do you think you can get up?" she asked, as gently as possible, as if she was addressing a small child.

Joanne turned to look at her as if she was crazy. "Maureen, we can't move her! She's so weak, we can accidentally hurt her or something."

"We can't leave her here, it's freezing and it looks like it's gonna snow. She needs heat, she needs some food. The guys will know what to do." Joanne didn't respond. She knew it meant she was right. "We need to get her to the loft," she insisted. Then she turned to Mimi again. "Honey, we want to help you. But you gotta help us too, okay?"

"So… tired…" Mimi muttered brokenly. A shiver went through her when a sudden image of dying April flashed through her mind. She shook it off. No more death; not this time.

"I know, honey, but you gotta trust us. You're safe with us. Everything's gonna be okay now."

Mimi shook her head. "No… Roger… away…" her voice trailed off as another fit of coughs shook her whole body.

"Honey, he's home," she said softly once the coughs stopped. There was the slightest change in Mimi's expression. Her eyes seemed more alert, but barely. She caressed her hair gently, slowly. "Roger's home. We can take you to the loft to see him, okay? Come on, sweetie, stand up," she said, helping Mimi to her feet. Joanne took off her coat and wrapped it around Mimi's body, letting the old blanket fall to the ground. She took off her gloves and slid them on Mimi's hands. That should keep her warm for a while.

She exchanged a glance with Joanne, and there was this spark of a renewed trust that passed between them. Yeah. They could do it.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The way to the loft never seemed so long. They half carried, half supported Mimi on their way. A small sigh of relief escape her lips when the old apartment building appeared across the bend of the street as they passed the corner. There was light in the top floor.

"There's no way we can carry her all the way up," said Joanne breathlessly.

She nodded as they came closer to the building. There was only one thing she could think of doing. "Mark! Roger! Anyone, help!"

It was a matter of seconds before a small figure went out to the fire-escape and looked down. "Maureen?" She heard Mark ask. Then he looked behind her, at Joanne, who was carrying Mimi. His expression changed instantly.

"It's Mimi! We can't get her up the stairs!"

As if Roger managed to hear her from inside the loft, he shot out to the fire-escape as well. She almost heard him gasp.

"Hurry up, please!" Joanne called up, adjusting her grip of Mimi.

This seemed to snap them out of it. Roger hurried back into the loft; Mark was soon to follow. It was Collins who emerged from the building first, and took Mimi in his arms. They hurried after him as he carried her upstairs into the loft. They tried to explain everything as they scurried around, trying to clear out some room for her. She was living on the street… shivering… heat… needs more… a doctor… cold, cold, would you light my candle…?

The couch seemed too small, so did the armchair. Her eyes caught sight of the metal table, and she motioned Joanne towards it. Joanne nodded, obviously taking the hint, and she snatched a blanket from the back of the couch and spread it on the table. Roger, that at some point took Mimi from Collins, now laid her gently on the table, whispering comforting words in her ear. He took his jacket off and covered her with it, then carefully sat there beside her. She was still shivering, badly, but at least she was safe. They'd take care of her now.

They stepped aside, as if by a silent agreement to let Roger and Mimi have a moment. She tried to stop herself from watching them, but she couldn't. Her eyes kept wandering over to the table. Roger was holding Mimi tightly in his arms, as if he'd never let her go. God, she hoped he didn't have to.

She looked away, and her gaze locked with Mark's.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was almost afraid to turn away her gaze. This was the first direct contact they made in weeks, ever since that night Angel died, and that kiss. He looked anxious, worried for Mimi's fate, as they all were. And there was something else there, too, she then realized. That optimistic spark that was always there seemed to fade away. He didn't look so naïve anymore. It was as if he matured overnight. Well, maybe not overnight, but the last couple of months definitely started taking their toll.

I should tell you, I… love… you…

She shook her head, sending the words away. No. She couldn't do this. Not now, not ever. It would just be one of those mistakes, one of those horrible mistakes one made and could never take back. Shouldn't even think about this. Need distraction-

Someone took her hand. She raised her head, startled, thinking it might be Mark. Her eyes met Joanne's, who gave her hand a little squeeze. There were tears in her eyes. Disappointment… no, shouldn't feel that way, that's Joanne. Love her. Unhappy. Love him. Must end it, must tell him, I should tell-

"Mimi!" Roger's voice pierced the air, tormented and heart-breaking. He held Mimi's limp body close to his chest, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

It didn't seem to do much help. Her head dropped against his shoulder.

It looked like the moment she feared from. And it felt as if Roger realized it as well. He let out a wailing sound, dreadful, like a wounded animal. It was a sound of deep pain and frustration; a sound that was probably locked in from that far away day when he lost April as well. No one dared speaking, moving, not even breathing, as he rocked Mimi's lifeless body from side to side, sobbing quietly into her shoulder. The air stood still, as they sat aside and let Roger mourn his loss.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She could feel them, warm against the skin of her face. She could taste their saltiness. She didn't bother to wipe them off. You would expect she'd get used to it by now. Apparently, there was no getting used to losing your loved ones. Joanne's grip on her hand tightened. She raised her head to look at her, and realized that Joanne, too, was crying. Joanne rarely cried. That is, before they lost Angel. And then when they did, it was as if she softened up a bit, as she started to show more emotion. She looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. She almost forgot her initial intentions to put an end to their relationship, when they left the apartment earlier. It seemed so long ago. Did she lose her chance to act up on that? It felt as if so much has happened ever since. Did she still wanted to do this? She wasn't sure anymore.

A soft rustle, a gasp, a cough. None of them, she realized, raising her head instantly. A sigh of relief escaped her as she shot out of her seat, in unison with the rest of them, it seemed. They were standing around the table now, as Mimi regained consciousness, slowly sitting up.

"I was… in a tunnel. Heading for this warm, white light," Mimi said hoarsely yet surprisingly coherent, as if she wasn't so close to dying a moment ago. Amazingly enough, she looked okay, as if the last month or so never existed. The color of her lips looked normal, she wasn't shivering as badly as before, her eyes glistened with recognition and life. "And I swear… Angel was there!" she exclaimed. Then she turned to look at Collins, whose heartbrokenness appeared in his expression. "And she looked good!" Mimi added, as if to assure them of Angel's safety. They laughed. It was a short, uncertain laughter, as if it was necessary to lose some tension. "And she said… 'turn around, girlfriend, and listen to that boy's song'," she concluded, looking straight at Roger with so much love in her eyes.

"You're drenched," Roger murmured, his face lightening up with a slow, beautiful smile of relief.

She stepped forward, laying a hand on Mimi's forehead. "Her fever's breaking," she informed Roger, her voice quiet, soft, a smile similar to his curling on her lips.

"Thank God," murmured Joanne, from over her shoulder.

"Is there anything we can get you, honey?" Collins asked Mimi, who laid her head against Roger's chest.

"We need to keep her warm," Joanne said, shivering slightly. It was cold in the loft, but now she hardly felt it.

"I'll make you some tea, okay?" she told Mimi, who slowly nodded. She turned away from them and walked to the kitchen area, getting everything ready. The guys were still talking back there, their voices low but still audible. As she reached for a spoon, she realized her hands were shaking. She dropped the spoon and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take couple of deep breaths as she leaned against the counter.

"You okay?"

She turned, startled, to meet Mark's questioning eyes. She nodded briefly and went back to what she was doing. She expected him to grab whatever it was that he needed and go back to the living-room, but instead he stayed and started helping her.

She knew everything was getting back to normal when she heard Roger and Collins' voices, louder this time, as they were beginning to tease each other over something she couldn't quite hear. A small smile curled on her lips. Yeah. Everything would be just fine.

She didn't realize how distracted she became by the sound of his voices, that by the next step she took towards the sink, she bumped into Mark, who was about to go in the opposite direction. She murmured a quick apology just at the same second he did, and looked away, her cheeks burning. What the hell was wrong with her? She was acting ridiculous, really, she did. It was so incredibly childish. Ugh. She knew it wouldn't stop until they'd talk about what happened there. Okay, it was possible it wouldn't stop even then, but at least things would be less awkward.

"Mark-" "Maureen-" They said in unison.

She smiled. So did he. That broke the ice a bit. "Go ahead," she said, softer than she intended.

"No, you go ahead," replied Mark. "Ladies first," he added, blushing slightly.

"Okay," she nodded, considering her next words. Should she apologize? Or maybe justify her actions that night? Wait a minute… her actions? He was there too; he could have stopped her at any point! "Well, there's this unresolved issue from a while ago, I just wanted to make sure… you were okay with it," she half said, half asked that last part.

"Maureen-" he started, but she raised her hand in protest to stop him.

"Mark, please let me finish," she asked. She didn't like the way it sounded, but she just wanted to get it over with. Besides, if he'd stop her now she'd lose her courage. And it had to be said. She had to get it out of her system. She sighed. "Look, I don't feel comfortable with this. The last thing I meant was to lead you on like that. And I should have said that before. Way before. I'm sorry I didn't."

"So what you're saying is that it meant nothing," he said slowly, carefully looking at her.

"That's what I'm saying," she replied, doing her best to look into his eyes. The faster she'd make herself believe in it the better.

"Okay."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She didn't expect him to go on his knees and beg her to reconsider, but she definitely wasn't expecting him to accept it so indifferently. "Okay?"

"I kind of realized… that if we left it unresolved the way we did, this was how you felt. So yeah, I had some time to get used to this."

"So… that's it?"

"What do you mean, 'that's it'?"

"Issue resolved? We can leave this behind and forget it ever happened?" she asked kind of hesitantly. It sounded so self-centered; as if she used him and now all she wanted was to get away with clear conscience.

There was a short pause, after which Mark said, "You can't keep doing this, you know." She looked at him questionably. "You can't leave behind everything you can't deal with and pretend everything's okay just because it's easier."

"I thought we just had that thing covered."

"No, you just wanted to make sure I was okay with it, so you could feel less guilty."

"That's not true," she protested. She hated when he did that. No one could ever read what was on her mind as well as he could.

"If that's not true, why didn't we have this conversation before? Why waiting all this time to raise this issue again? You said it yourself, you didn't feel comfortable with things as they were, so you just thought you'd come over here, say what you had to say, and that's it. Mission complete, conscience clear, maybe now you'll sleep better," he said dryly, sarcastically, his eyes cold.

"That's not fair!"

"Don't talk to me about fairness, Maureen! If anything, I'm the one who should be offended here!"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" she hissed. The last thing she needed was for Joanne to step in on their conversation. One glance at her assured her Joanne was well-occupied, watching Mimi who was napping on the couch.

Mark's gaze followed hers; then he looked back at her, looking disgusted. "Oh, now I get it," he said, his voice dripping with malice. Well, she kind of deserved it, she guessed. But it still hurt. She felt like crying.

"Mark, please don't do this." Why he felt compelled to argue with her all of a sudden? Now of all times he felt the need to answer back? "Look, I just wanted to apologize, is that so wrong?"

"You know what, I don't care anymore."

"You're just saying this now because you're upset."

"No, seriously, I'm sick and tired of these games, Maureen. You can't have your way every time, things just don't work that way!"

"Hey, Cohen!" Collins' voice evaded their conversation, kind of abruptly. Her head shot up. Did they hear any of this? But looking back, she could see they were all still in the living-room, a safe distance away. "Are we gonna watch this masterpiece of yours or what?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second!" replied Mark, a hint of annoyance evident in his voice. Then after a moment, he looked back at her. His eyes were cold and serious. "Don't let it bother you. Issue resolved. The next time you want to handle things your way, just leave me out of it." With that, he turned his back on her and left.

She just stood there for a moment, watching him join the guys. Things didn't turn out the way she planned. Sure, she didn't expect him to be all thrilled by what she had to say, but she surely wasn't expecting him to speak to her so nastily the way he just did. And the worst part was… that as much as she hated to admit it, he actually had a point. Her motives were mostly selfish. But she didn't think that talking it out would help her sleep better, as Mark was saying. On the contrary, it seemed that this conversation they had just had was about to keep her awake for a long, long time.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She was watching the flickering images on the screen, scenes from their lives in the tumult of the last year or so. Her protest, New Years, a hot summer day on the roof, the guys in Life Support, a dinner party at the Life Café… It all seemed so long ago. It made her feel so old.

Her eyes wandered over to the couch, occupied by Roger and Mimi. Her head was leaning against his chest and he held her close, as if to make sure he wouldn't lose her again. She smiled at the image they made. She was glad they got their second chance. She turned to look at Mark, who was standing by the projector, his arms crossed on his chest. His forehead cringed in concentration, and his eyes narrowed slightly, as he was looking critically on the screen. She knew how much he disliked viewing his films to other people, which was why she was surprised by his initiating this screening in the first place.

She shook her head, letting out a sigh. She didn't mean for their conversation to take the nasty direction it did. Really, she didn't. Now she'd have to apologize for that, too. But not right away. She'd let him be for a while, if this was what he wanted. It would allow things to cool down for a while. She needed some time away as well. She had to figure out what the hell she wanted. Her gaze wandered from Mark to Joanne, who was looking at the screen as well. It showed a series of shots of the two of them, feeding one another cotton candy in the park. She could hardly recognize herself. Caught in the middle of a fit of wild giggles, she looked so happy. Could it be from such a short time ago? When did it stop being like that?

Maybe she was rushing things. So they had couple of bad months. Every couple had it every once in a while, right? Breaking up over a little thing like that would be just silly and harsh. She was just being impulsive, as always. She just had to give it another chance. Maybe if they'd try again…

She looked from Joanne to Mark, and back to Joanne, and made up her mind. She would give it another chance. She'd show him she was better, she was different. She'd show him she wasn't the egocentric, manipulative bitch he implied she was. She would prove him wrong. Besides, everything worked better when given a second chance. Look at Roger and Mimi.

Yeah, she thought, a victorious smile slowly curling on her lips. She'd show him.