A/N: Why can't I attack original work with such gusto? NOW we really get into healing Mark. This will take a while- I have to undo a LOT of damage. First things first- get the filmmaker back to making films. And maybe a little counseling from various sources.

Anyways- don't own.

XXXXXX

The morning after Mark's flashback, he gets up at something like the crack of dawn. He fixes himself tea and pulls out his camera. He hasn't touched this, really, since Roger died. He's carried it around

but not filmed a damn thing. He just hasn't had the motivation. And in truth, he kind of blames it for the mess he's in. If he hadn't detached so much behind the damn thing, felt what he was supposed to feel, maybe he wouldn't have been so overpowered with the grief that hit him after Roger. He's tempted to hurl the thing across the room but as is habit recently, he does just the opposite. He leaves a note on the table explaining that he's going filming and goes outside.

The early spring air feels good. And, Mark is only a little surprised to find that the camera feels like a long lost lover in his hands. And, more surprisingly, he's actually missed filming. Maybe his camera isn't to blame. This thought, while it should be disturbing, isn't . He begins to go around the East Village, filming anything and everything. And the most surprising thing is, he doesn't feel haunted today. There is a vague feeling of melancholy as he walks by the old loft, but nothing too bad. He almost walks up to it, but stops. Too much too fast. Just being able to look at it is a step enough.

"Nice seeing you back in this end of town." A voice startles him. It's Benny, who is standing in front of the loft. He got put back in charge of the Grey Communication East Village project after Mimi died and it's obvious he's got plans for the building.

"Yeah. It's good to be back. " Mark calls as Benny crosses the street.

The two men share a friendly embrace and Benny offers to buy them something to eat. Mark gladly accepts.

As they wait for their breakfast- pancakes for Mark, bacon, eggs and toast for Benny- Benny turns serious for a moment.

"You really fucking scared us when you left for Brooklyn out of nowhere."

"I know. I'm...sorry doesn't even begin to describe it. I just...freaked. I had to get out of here."

Benny just nods. Finally, he whispers, half to himself, "We lost them too."

" I know. I know." Mark really doesn't think he can handle that guilt trip right at that instant.

"Look, I'm just saying you're not alone. Joanne, Maureen and I miss them too. Well, I never knew Angel except that brief meeting in the loft. I knew about her, though, from Mimi and from what I heard, she was fantastic, and the world is a lesser place for losing her. Hell, the world is a lesser place with out any of them punks." There is a quick smile on Benny's face. " But, my point is, you always have someone to talk to. Have had."

"It's....It's not that simple, Benny. It's really not. I can't put my finger on what exactly happened but it was, and maybe still is, more than just simple grief."

Benny considers this for a minute, while the waitress brings their food. Mark only picks at his food, waiting for his host to speak. Benny chews on his bacon thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to best phrase what he wants to say.

"Maybe, if its more than grief, you need more help getting through it than most people. Like...professional help?"

Mark's eyes go wide. He knows he's crazy, or at the very least in need of professional help, but to have it suggested still is a little painful.

"Just...consider it." Benny says. "I...look, I was shitty friend at times, but I do have your best interest at heart. I want to see you well. And that shit you pulled in Brooklyn...Joanne told me- don't be mad at her, she was freaked out by what happened, finding you like that and called me...but anyway, that shit you pulled in Brooklyn is not a sign of being well."

Mark just nods. Benny sees this as a chance to continue and does so. "And look, if money is an issue...I'll pay."

Mark knows Benny is being kind but it still stings. "I'm fine." It's much more biting than he intends.

"I wasn't trying to be a dick, really." Benny is actually hurt by the tone of Mark's voice.

Mark takes a deep breath. "I know. That came out wrong. Look...thanks for breakfast. I gotta get back to Maureen and Joanne's."

He stands up and walks back out into the sunshine. Instead of heading to the apartment, he heads toward the building where Life Support is. It's still too early for a meeting to be going on, but he knows – or at least is 85% sure that – Paul will be there. And he is.

The older man greets the filmmaker like he's a soldier coming home from war.

"Mark. I'm so very glad you came back. How are you feeling?" Paul leads them back to the office. It's small and crowded with papers and research but Paul's welcoming smile makes it a little less daunting.

"I'm...I don't know. There aren't words really. Look, I know you are busy. And underpaid. But, I was wondering, if, I could...somehow, work out some kind of private session. The group meetings...they didn't work obviously."

"Obviously?" Paul is the one person it seems who hasn't heard of Mark's ordeal in Brooklyn.

"I..did somethings I'm not proud of. I don't have time to talk about them today, Joanne is probably panicking right now even though I left a note...Christ, I feel like I'm 17 again instead of 27. I really fucked some shit up in Brooklyn. But, I need help." Just admitting it aloud for himself feels better than he thought it would.

"I see." Paul nods. "Look...Mark, truth be told, I don't have a lot of experience in survivor issues. Life Support members rarely have them. Even though it's going down now, there is still a stigma over HIV/AIDS that it's for gay men, hookers, and drug addicts. And those are the type of people that, even though it's wrong, families typically abandon. We become the family for most of the members here. So, that's why the group meetings probably don't work for you. The members here...they loose someone, it's tough. It hurts deeply. But for many every funeral they attend is a little bit self-driven. See what awaits them. For some it's ' if Ali died after her T-Cells dropped to this point, and mine are here...then how much longer do I have?' kinda thing. So...I personally don't think I can help. But I can find you someone." Paul begins digging through his files as he speaks.

"Thank you." Mark is relieved. The way Paul started of with 'Look...Mark' it seemed like Paul wouldn't be able to be any help.

"Ah Ha! And I found the right someone. Dr. Astrid Sutcliffe. Nice older German lady. She works for the same company I do, so money will be no issue. She works more with survivors and especially with those who have actually witnessed the passing over of someone. She does some group but it's 90% individual. You may find that a group is helpful, if it's the right group." Paul hands the filmmaker a card and 50 cents for a pay phone, just in case Mark doesn't want to schedule his first appointment in front of Maureen and Joanne.

They shake hands and as Mark stands up to go, Paul offers his reassurance. " You'll be fine Mark, I promise."

And, even though seven months ago, Mark took everything Paul said as useless lies, he believes the counselor now, as he goes and dials the number on the card and makes his appointment.

He turns the camera to himself. "Close on Mark. A man finally starting to break through the clouds. A man finally starting to heal."

XXXXXX

And that's were I leave it for now. And mucho cookies to anyone who gets who Dr. Astrid Sutcliffe is named for. There are either 2 or 4 more chapters. I'm really pushing myself past my normal limit here. Now, if only I could do that for my original works.