A/N: And we begin the healing process. The climb upward. This chapter is still a little dark but like clouds in the morning sky, the sunshine is coming after this.

Don't own.

XXX

It takes Mark two weeks before he even speaks at all. Joanne takes time off of work and she and Maureen take care of Mark. He wants to tell them he's not a little kid whose dog just died or parents just divorced. He's a grown man who has witnessed the death of five people incredibly close to him in as many years. He ran away from it all and tried to escape in alcohol and acid. He had a horrible trip and now it feels like his mind is blank. He wants to scream all this at Joanne as she treats him to dinner at Union Square Cafe. At Maureen who insists on trying to get him to open up about his time in Brooklyn. But he can't. He tries but he can't. He's too afraid of what will come out. That whatever he tells them will be so horrible, make him look so horrible, that they too will leave him.

That all changes one night when the residual LSD in his system causes a horrifying flashback. In a rare moment where he's almost back to normal, he's walking along with Maureen on the way back from the Life Cafe.

(this is the one place connected to the 'old days' Mark can still function- mostly because it's filled with memories of celebration and table dancing over memories of death and dying)

Maureen is chattering on and on about nothing in particular, and instead of just stepping off the curb, she jumps. Mark is in a surprisingly good mood and follows suit. The sudden landing on his feet jostles something in his system and he suddenly sees...them again. The creatures that haunted him that night. He screams and Maureen is there. As self-absorbed and ditzy as she can sometimes come across, she is very caring and has read about acid trips as much as she can since Mark has arrived home.

"Shh...Mark...it's okay. They're not real. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let you jump off the curb. I forgot...please...Mark..." Maureen doesn't care that the inhabitants of the East Village are staring at them. She just cares about getting Mark back.

"How can you not see these things? They're flying at me!" Mark is more panicked than he was in Brooklyn. Mostly because flashbacks mean he's not as better as he might like to think.

"Mark...it's a flashback...come back. You're a block away from your old loft. Whatever it is that's coming at you, it's not real. It's not anything."

"Not real...not real...not real." Mark chants, a mantra. "Not real...not fucking real...nothing is real..."

His voice breaks, and suddenly the two of them are sitting on the curb, Mark sobbing and Maureen holding him.

"That's not true. They aren't real but plenty is real. What's real is that Joanne and I love you so very much. We just want you better. Come on." Maureen keeps whispering comforting things over and over. She's so shocked at hearing Mark speak and just wants to keep him from turning inward again. They walk carefully back to Joanne's apartment, where the lawyer is waiting for them. She almost starts to interrogate them , but she sees something written on Maureen's face that stops her.

She pulls the diva aside and they conference briefly. Mark sits on the couch, knees drawn in tight. He gets a sudden urge to look at himself and walks to the bathroom.

He almost immediately wishes he hadn't. Once bright brown eyes are dull and sunken. Where a shy smile used to come easily to his face, all that shows up is a wry smirk. The stress he has gone through has made him look much older than his 27 years.

He goes back to the kitchen and makes himself a sandwich. As he spreads peanut butter on bread, he begins to speak. It isn't a conscious decision, and isn't triggered by anything in particular. He just is ready.

"They are our friends...the things I saw today and what I saw that day in Brooklyn. They aren't really anything – nothing I can identify anyway- but its obvious to me, now, that they are supposed to be our fallen friends. One is April, she has bright red hair. She dissolved to a pool of blood. There is one carrying that pickle tub- that's supposed to be Angel. She just burst into flames that day. Those flames started to devour me. That's probably when I started screaming. There was one that wore a beanie, and it was Collins. He burst into flames but then kept burning for a while. Roger was there- what ever it was had his eyes and he tried to strangle me while I was screaming. He like turned into a puff of music notes. And there was one that was part cat- Mimi. She tripped me up and I fell under the floor- it was like plasma. Then Beth-Ann grabbed me, and that made it worse. Then you two took over and it was like you pulled me out. I don't remember much else."

"Mark...tell me something. I...you know what drugs do to people. You helped Roger through heroine withdrawal. Why turn to acid as escape?" Joanne asks. She's not condemning him, she's honestly curious.

"I...wanted to make reality disappear. Or change. I won't lie...my first trip was fantastic. I don't remember much but there was something about penguins coming from the walls. The next two were pretty damn nice too. I wasn't...I'm still not...right. I'm really...I'm fucked up. Somewhere between Collins and Roger dying, it really..." This is the first time Mark admits to anyone that he is more affected by his friends dying...especially holding Roger's hand while he died...then he wants to let on. Hell, if he is really honest with himself, he has been loosing his grip since finding April in the tub.

Five years of weight come crashing down on him and he sits down on the floor, against the cool of the refrigerator. He begins to cry. For April, for Angel, for Mimi, for Collins, for Roger and for himself. Mostly, for once, for himself.

XXX

Okay, this chapter is really short but I've decided to really expand this. I realized I just couldn't jump from the last chapter to all happy sunshine. It took 4 steps to bring Mark to Rock Bottom , it'll take at least 4 to bring him up again. I will have 6 up as soon as I can I just HAVE to spend sometime on my school work. * huggles Mark * There, there, now you can heal. * huggles readers * There there, now it gets better. Thank you for reading so far. And to all I've made cry in previous chapters, * hands big box of tissues all around *