"Okay, we found Mark," Roger said, shuddering slightly. "And he's obviously… occupied," he shuddered again. "Can we please go dance?"

"Roger! Mark is dancing with Collins! That's scandalous!" Maureen cried.

"If they know that we saw them, Collins could be in big trouble," Roger pointed out. "He's already in big trouble. Can we please go dance? Please?"

"Oh fine," Maureen sighed, allowing Roger to drag her back onto the dance floor. Roger grinned, pulling her close, grinding his hips against hers. He leaned in to kiss her once more when he felt his pants vibrating. He groaned and fished around in his pocket for the cell phone, flipping it open while Maureen clung to him, reading over his shoulder.

"Maur, we gotta go outside," Roger said quickly, a slight panic in his voice. "Come on."

"Wait, what's going on?" she asked, not having finished reading the message.

"Come on, outside, now," he demanded. "Joanne!"

Roger reached over and plucked the girl from the grasp of her dance partner and instructed her to find Mark and meet them outside – it was an emergency. He grabbed onto Maureen's hand and dragged her out of the club, his brow wrinkled in worry.

"Roger, what is going on?" she asked, panting as they stumbled onto the sidewalk.

"Angel?!" Roger shouted, whipping his head around. "ANGEL!"

A soft whimper reached Maureen's ears accompanied by a sniffle and a sob. Grabbing Roger's hand, she crept around the side of the building. Her eyes widened, jaw dropping onto the pavement as she stopped short.

"Astin! Roger, call 911!"

Maureen scrambled over to Angel's side, her heart thumping wildly against her rib cage, unable to speak while Roger frantically jabbed at the keypad, waiting for an answer.

"Maureen! Roger!"

"Over here!" Maureen shouted, her voice sounding strangely distant, like it was coming from someone else.

Joanne came barreling around the corner, hauling Mark by the scruff of his shirt. "What the fuck is going on?" she asked, a frenetic look on her face.

"It's Astin," Maureen murmured quickly, resting her hand on Angel's shoulder, who had yet to say anything since they'd arrived.

"The paramedics are coming," Roger said, rushing back over. "They'll be here shortly."

"Ang, what happened?" Maureen asked, staring intently at her friend.

But Angel didn't speak as he held Astin's head in his lap, staring down at his bloody face while voices shouted and sirens blared around him.

Mark stood quietly in the corner, watching in horror as the paramedics finally came, this night being one of the most interesting and horrifying nights he'd had in a long time.

All he could see was the bright red blood darkening the pale blond hair he knew so well. His lips mouthed Astin's name over and over, silently begging him to wake the fuck up and not be hurt anymore. Angel stroked the bangs away from his forehead, leaving a faint red smear on the otherwise flawless skin. The voices of his friends swirled around him and he didn't understand a word. Sirens blared in his ears, lights flashed over them, turning the almost translucent skin of his boyfriend blue and red. Then he felt someone tugging on Astin's broken body, trying to take him away. Angel held tighter to Astin. "No…" he murmured. He heard Roger saying his name, telling Angel to let the paramedics take Astin, they could help him. Then Roger tugged on his shoulder.

Angel whipped his head around. "No!" he screamed, tears finally spilling angrily out of his eyes. Roger looked down at him, face pale.

"Ang, come on…"

Broken, crying and covered in his boyfriend's blood, Angel carefully rose to his feet, the paramedics taking his boyfriend away. Joanne patted Angel's shoulder as she passed to climb into the back of the ambulance.

Roger wrapped his arms around Angel, drawing his somewhat unresponsive body close. Angel stood still for a moment, frozen in shock before gut-wrenching sobs ripped out of his chest, tears falling in a new storm. Maureen watched from a few feet away, wiping away her own tears, a bit of blood on her own jeans. Even Mark had to wipe away a tear after hearing Angel's wordless anguish. Roger though, stood firm for him, merely rubbing his back as he let him cry.

"Angel, Angel…" The drummer pulled back, a haunted look in his brown eyes. "We have to go to the hospital. Astin needs you, okay?" A spark of resolve flickered in Angel's eyes. He nodded, wiping his cheeks. Without another word, Roger took Angel under one arm and Maureen under the other, Mark trailing along behind the trio as they headed to the hospital.

The hospital waiting room was a strange atmosphere. Mark sat alone, a seat between him and Roger. He had drawn his knees up, resting his chin on them, watching the other people watch them. A small family sat in the corner, excitement about a new baby bubbling among them. A lone black woman sat near them. She twisted her wedding ring nervously, eyes flicking to the door every time she heard footsteps. Mark wondered what she was here for. It might have been easy to guess, but he couldn't do it. Not with all the things kicking around in his head. Grief, confusion, anger, worry… God, how could he keep anything straight right now?

A small sob reached his ears and instantly he felt contrite. If he could barely think, he couldn't even begin to imagine how poor Angel was. He was still in his bloodstained skirt and tights, heels discarded on the floor near him. Maureen and Roger sat on either side of him, their arms about him. Angel had his head on Maureen's shoulder, the occasional tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Joanne was on Maureen's other side, a half-filled form in her lap. She kept trying to fill in the spaces she knew about Astin, but her hands were shaking too much to hold the pen for more than ten seconds.

Nobody had said anything since they arrived. Mark cleared his throat awkwardly, catching Roger's attention. "Um… should we call his parents?"

Roger shook his head, eyes rimmed with red, though they remained dry. "They're in France. Anyway, they couldn't care less about Ast. We're all he's got. Angel… Angel's all he's got." The guitarist rubbed Angel's shoulder gently. Mark didn't think Roger was… unemotional, but he had never expected this kind of loyalty and comfort from him. It was a pleasant surprise.

Mark returned to his curled up position, staring at the wall. A doctor walked in and went over to the single black woman. She listened for a moment, and then collapsed in tears. Mark felt the same stomach-jolting feeling he had earlier when Angel first sobbed. For the thousandth time that night, he wondered why the hell life had to hurt people who didn't deserve such pain at all.

Roger sighed softly as he glanced up at the clock once more, seeing that a mere five minutes had passed since the last time he'd looked. Angel had calmed down quite a bit considering, Maureen was nodding off beside him and Joanne had managed to finish filling out the paperwork and was now doodling absent mindedly along the top of the paper. Mark was still curled up in a ball, staring off into space, clutching his camera to his chest.

"Who's here for Astin James?"

Maureen's head snapped up as the voice spoke, eyes searching for the speaker. "We are," she murmured groggily.

A young woman dressed in white carrying a clipboard walked towards the group, all of whom were now anxiously stirring, Angel sitting straight up, nearly falling off the chair in anticipation. The woman perched on the edge of the coffee table, her dark hair twisted back into a braid as she looked at the group of kids.

"Well, I'll put your minds at ease," she murmured softly. "Astin is going to be fine."

Maureen let out a sigh, burying her face in her hands, Mark dropped his knees and almost smiled. Roger shook Angel gently, a grin cracking on his lips.

"Ang, did you hear that?" Roger asked, watching as Angel gave no reaction.

"Have Astin's parents been contacted?" the doctor asked.

Roger shook his head, turning his attention from Angel. "They're not in the country."

"I've filled out the form," Joanne piped up, handing the clipboard to the woman. "The best we could."

"Thank you," she nodded, taking the form. "Were you all with Astin when the accident happened?"

"He went out to have a smoke," Angel murmured, his voice weak. "I went out after him… and I found him."

Maureen reached over and grabbed onto his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We were at Dizzy's," she began. "For the battle of the bands. Roger, Angel and Astin play together. They won the contest," she smiled. "Afterwards we went to dance. Astin told Angel he needed a smoke. Angel came over and told me they were going to go outside and followed him out. When he got out there, he was on the ground. That right, Ang?"

Angel nodded slowly, staring at a particularly large spot on the tile under his foot.

"And he texted Roger and we all came out. He was unconscious by then. Roger called the ambulance. Joanne rode with him, we walked. That's it."

The doctor, who'd been busy scribbling notes, looked up at Angel. "I'm going to call the police, report the attack. They'll probably want to question the lot of you. In the meantime, you can visit if you'd like. He's not awake yet, but I'm sure he'd enjoy the company."

"Thanks," Roger nodded as the doctor stood, pointing them in the direction of Astin's room. "You guys ready?"

Maureen nodded and helped Angel to his feet, following after Roger, Joanne close behind. Mark lingered in the chair, a wave of relief rushing over him. He was still slightly shocked by the events of the evening and for a moment, the memory of dancing in the club, Collins' arms around him, flashed through his mind. He'd felt strangely safe with Collins, but quickly shook it from his mind and rushed off down the hall, tagging after Joanne.

Astin groaned softly. What the hell had he done to himself this time? He felt like he'd been hit with a truck, run over with a motorcycle and then put in a dumpster before it was beaten with multiple baseball bats: that's how fucking bad his head hurt. He groaned again but didn't open his eyes. Something soothing was chanting his name… it was a moment before he recognized it as his Angel's voice. "Angel?" he muttered groggily, squeezing the hand in his gently.

"Yes, compi, it's me… please open your eyes?" Astin slowly obeyed, wincing at the harsh light. What… the hell. He'd never woken up in a hospital room without knowing why before. Angel sat at his side, one hand clutching his. Maureen and Roger stood behind Angel, clinging to each other. Joanne was perched at the end of his bed, and Mark sat awkwardly in a chair by the door. "Astin?"

Astin cracked a small smile for his obviously distressed boyfriend. "Baby… what happened?"

Angel's eyes widened a bit. "You… you don't remember?"

Astin closed his eyes again, trying to remember. As if watching a movie, the scenes unfolded in his mind. The faces of the guys. The taunts and slurs, the sound of their fists and feet hitting his body. The harsh bite of their fucking laughter as they walked away, completely untroubled by what they did. Unconsciously, his free hand curled into a fist. "Yeah… now I do…"

Angel rubbed the back of his hand worriedly. "Ast, there's… there's some police officers here, they want to question you… Are you up for that?"

Astin nodded, wincing as the movement made his head throb even more. "Yeah," he rasped, coughing a bit. "Let's get that over with."

Roger looked at Mark, who nodded slightly before leaving. A tense air settled in the small, crowded room. Maureen was uncharacteristically quiet, merely holding tightly to her boyfriend's hand. Joanne played with the end of her sleeve nervously. And Roger, well… Roger was staring off into space, a hard look set onto his sharp features. The look kind of scared Astin, but at the same time, he felt bad for the guys who had done this. Roger looked ready to kick some major ass on his account.

Mark came back in, followed by two people, a man and a woman. The woman pulled Mark's chair from by the door to the bed, sitting next to Astin, looking at him critically. "Hey, Astin, I'm Detective Grey. That's my partner, Detective Lawrence. We've gotta ask you a few questions… would you rather do this in private?" Astin shook his head, holding tight to Angel's hand. "Okay. Do you remember what happened tonight?"

Astin took in a deep breath. "Well… I left these guys in the club to go out back and smoke. I was in the alley alone and I lit up. I heard footsteps and I thought they were Angel, so I didn't turn around. Next thing I knew, I had been punched across the jaw and kicked in the shins. I fell, and they all surrounded me. They kicked me and hit me, calling me names the whole time. Cocksucker. Fairy. Faggot. They even went so far as to insult Angel… they called him a cross-dressing freak. I tried to get up, to fight back, but I was outnumbered… They gave up after a few minutes, after I stopped yelling in pain as much. The bastards walked away laughing. I passed out before they were out of the alley. I remember seeing Angel for a moment, then I woke up here."

Detective Grey looked up from her nearly full pad of paper. "And who were 'they?'"

"The assholes from Proceed With Caution. The band that won second. They didn't like the fact that they lost to a tranny, his queer boyfriend and a pretty boy guitarist. So… they took it out on me."

Angel's eyes were bright with tears as he heard the story. The detectives asked around the room, getting the same story from each of them. Even when Angel was being questioned, his eyes never left Astin. It was almost as if Angel thought if he kept looking, he would be okay. Astin met his boyfriend's eyes, trying to reassure him with a look. When that didn't work, he squeezed his hand gently.

"Mark, wanna go grab some coffee?"

Mark's head lifted slowly from the chair he'd reacquired once the detectives had left, staring up into Maureen's face.

"Rog and I were gonna go grab something from the cafeteria. Wanna come?"

Mark really didn't want to move, but the look on Maureen's face told him he probably should join. "Yeah, alright," he nodded, yawning softly. "Coffee sounds good."

"Jo?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Ang, you want anything?"

Angel shook his head, still perched on the bed beside Astin, squeezing his hand, eyes never leaving his. Joanne nodded before following the other three out and down to the cafeteria.

"We'll bring something back for him," Maureen murmured as they wandered to the machine.

Sitting down at a small circular table, neither of the four had much to say. Mark didn't blame them, what could anyone say to lighten the mood? Astin was okay, but he'd been bashed by homophobes. That wasn't something that happened every day. He sipped his coffee slowly, staring off into space, watching the other three peripherally.

Maureen snuggled against Roger, staring at the white Styrofoam cup in front of her, remaining unusually quiet. She tucked a curl back behind her ear, raising her glance to Mark and then Joanne before sighing softly. Roger wrapped his arm tightly around his girlfriend, not having touched his coffee yet. There was too much to think about. Joanne yawned slowly, leaning back in the plastic chair and stretching. Glancing at her clock, her eyes widened. It was well past curfew.

"We might want to think about heading home soon," she announced, breaking the awkward silence. "It's about three thirty. I'm going to go call my mum. You're all welcome to spend the night."

Maureen nodded, the only of the three to give a response as Joanne left the table to make the call. She cleared her throat and leaned back against Roger. She was lucky – her boyfriend had come out of the contest physically unharmed. Angel was tough and for that, Maureen envied him very much.