Author's Notes: Another chapter for you my darling readers! My semester is beginning to wind down, so I'll have more time to update my stories! Thanks to those of you who keep reading, it means a lot to me.

I OWN NOTHING (only add-ons & plot).

Please read, review and enjoy!

Seven

Collins clutched his coat closer to him as he walked down the nervously quiet streets of Avenue B. This wasn't a good time to be out at night, but he had to be there for Mark. The professor looked about him, checking for anyone that might be following him. It wasn't until he spotted Mark up the street that he felt anything close to relief. As Collins jogged up to Mark, his smile fell as he saw how terrible Mark looked clutching to the scarf that Mimi had given to him one day…

Mimi through the scarf around her neck, watching herself in the mirror as Roger strummed his guitar and Mark played with a bit of film in a canister. "You know, I really don't think that this color looks good on me. What do you think babe?" The rocker looked up, mumbling incoherently. "Looks great Meems." The dancer rolled her eyes and looked to Mark who hadn't been paying much attention to anything but his film. She looked down at the scarf, eyeing it carefully before pulling it off of herself and walking over to Mark. "This color looks wonderful on you mi estimado! (my dear) Try it on for me?" The filmmaker placed his canister carefully on the floor, taking the scarf and placing it around his neck. Grabbing his hand, Mimi pulled Mark to the mirror so that he could see it. When Mark gazed into the half cracked mirror, Mimi smiled. "¿Lo quiere usted?" (do you like it?) "Huh?" Mark said dumbfoundedly, he'd lived in Alphabet City for such a long time and never realized how little of Spanish he knew. The dancer giggled happily, placing her hand over her mouth to stifle as much as she could. "I said, do you like it?" Mark turned a light shade of red as he looked back to the mirror. "It's a nice scarf Mimi." Kissing him gently on the cheek and walking over towards Roger, the dancer threw her hand in the air. "Keep it." Mark quickly took the scarf off, reaching it out towards the dancer who was seating herself on the ground by Roger. "I can't keep this Mimi, you just bought this!" "I know, know you have two scarves instead of that old stripe one!" Mark watched the girl in awe as she comfortably grabbed her legs pulling them to her chest. "Thank you Mimi." "Ningún sweety de problema." (no problem sweety)

"Hey man." Mark didn't look up until he'd almost bumped into Collins. "Hi." Mark said timidly. The professor cleared his throat looking about them once more before heading back home. "Come on; let's get the hell out of this weather." The professor said as he put his arm comfortingly around Mark. The film maker nodded his head slowly, still trying to concentrate on walking without fainting. "How's Angel?" Collins' expression fell once again, remembering her sobs when he left. "Not good man, not good at all. Angel's usually good about keeping her spirits up…but-" "This is Mimi." Collins sighed, "Exactly." "What the fuck was Benny doing there?" "I don't know Mark, he cared about Mimi too I guess. I didn't know it was possible." "Well he shouldn't have fucking been there, he didn't give a shit about Mimi." Collins could tell that his friend was becoming angrier by the minute so the professor rubbed his back a bit, calming his down. "Mark, it's alright man. We're here." Unlocking the main door to the building, Collins gestured for Mark to travel upstairs before him. "Don't worry about Benny, I'll handle him." Mark traveled up the stairs wiping his face of the exhaustion that was setting in. "If you don't, Roger will." As Collins opened the door to the apartment that he and Angel shared, he stopped midstride. "By the way, where the hell is Roger?"

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Roger stumbled into the loft, clenching onto his coat. "Mark!" he cried but got no answer. When he realized that no one was in the loft, the rocker felt alone and afraid. There was no one to make sure he was safe, no one to make sure he got home. Roger nosily walked into the bathroom to the sink, turning the faucet for hot water. Slowly shedding himself of his jacket, Roger cupped his hands under the warm water splashing it on to his face. He shook his face regaining his sight once more, and slowly stared into the mirror. What he saw was not a person he wanted to see ever again, a person who had been tucked away in memory never to be seen. Mimi's poorly constructed smack had taken a serious toll on his body already, causing the skin around his eyes to darken just as it did hers. The rocker traced his hand along the wound that he caused shoving the dirty needle into his body and winced. He washed it carefully, drying his face with a nearby towel.

Roger walked out into the loft once more, heading toward his bedroom tearing off the shirt he was wearing. He smelled of sex, as he peeled off his pants, the clothes landing in a pile by his rickety dresser. Not even bothering to shower, Roger crawled into bed, the woman's passionate scratch marks still on skin weeping for Mimi, for some way that she could come back and crawl into bed with him to hold him as she did so often.

"Mimi…" he whispered holding onto his pillow. "Mimi please…" The rocker wept, his sobs resonating throughout the empty loft. "Don't leave me here…I need you…" His sobs became wails as he couldn't control his crying. "Oh God…Mimi…" Breathing was staggered, almost impossible as his shoulders shook with each violent bought of sobs. "Tell me you love me…Mimi…please…" Visions of her running into his arms as she greeted him after work haunted him, her conditioned legs wrapping around him tightly. They often made love in this exact position, she expertly lifting herself up to take in as much of him as she could, squeezing him tightly as she came to orgasm. He could almost hear her breathing as her body would relax after a fit during her brief trial of quitting the smack that ended up killing her. It was too much. It was too quickly. Why didn't she know that her old dealer would fuck her over for not buying from him anymore? She knew he wasn't any good to her, why would she risk and ultimately loose her life for the high that would never take any of her pains away? Roger wanted to take that pain away; he wanted to give her the happiness that she deserved. He'd never been able to touch a human being in the same way that he wanted to touch Mimi, and now he would never be able to. She was gone. She was another "hopeless case" in the eyes of the authorities. Just another poor soul in a graveyard of meaninglessness. When someone would see her grave, no one would know the kind of life she had, or how she encouraged everyone to live it even if she didn't do the safest of things. She was gone; the love of Roger's life was gone again.

"I love you baby." Mimi said laying her head on Roger's chest. The rocker smiled as he silently caressed her long curly hair. "I love you too." "Did you know that you mean the world to me?" she asked lifting her head so that she made eye contact with him. "I do now." Carefully crawling up closer to him, Mimi straddled Roger holding his face gently so that she could kiss him. He placed his hand on hers as the two kissed passionately.

"Mimi…baby…I love you…" the rocker said as he slowly drifted off to a restless sleep.

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Joanne and Maureen waited in the hospital room, not saying much to one another. The lawyer's hand throbbed with pain as she sat herself on the observation table. Maureen crossed her legs indifferently as she looked at all of the medical tools in glass cylindricals. "I hate hospitals." She said, talking to no one. Joanne felt terrible for having Maureen take her to the hospital, she had acted out her anger at Mimi on Maureen and it wasn't what she wanted. "Honeybear, I'm so sorry." Maureen looked up to her girlfriend putting her hair behind her ear. "It's okay; I just want your hand to be okay." Glancing down at her hand and slightly wincing, Joanne looked back up to Maureen. "I never meant to hurt you. I was just so angry…" "I know. Don't worry about it okay?" The performance artist walked up to Joanne brushing a tear away from her face. "I love you and we're going to get through this okay?" Joanne nodded reluctantly, taking her good hand and placing it on Maureen's back pulling her towards her. "Kiss me?" Maureen smiled holding Joanne's face as the two joined lips.

"Ms. Jefferson?" the doctor said coming in. The two women parted as the doctor approached Joanne who was in horrible pain still. "I'm Dr. Shram. Let's take a look at it." Carefully the man unwrapped the cloths on Joanne's hand, causing the lawyer to cry out instinctively. "Oh man, the clothes are stuck to the wound." The doctor said gesturing for Maureen to come and hold Joanne. "It's okay Jo." Joanne began to weep as the doctor finished taking the clothes off, throwing them into the hazardous waste trash bin. "Wow. You've got yourself quite the wound there. We'll definitely be needing stitches for this one." Maureen kissed her girlfriend's temple as the doctor pressed a green button for the nurse. "We're going to put you into a mini operating room so that we can take all of the glass out and get you some stitches alright?" The lawyer nodded knowingly as the nurse came and as escorted her out of the room. As Maureen trailed after her, the doctor called for her as he began to wash his hands. "Miss no one is allowed in the operating rooms. We must keep the room sterile." Maureen rolled her eyes, thinking that this was another attempt to discriminate her and Joanne's relationship. "I want to be in there with her. I don't want her to be alone." The man grabbed some paper towels, drying his hands with them. "I understand, and I would want you to be in there with her but we must keep the room sterile. As soon as she gets out, I will send a nurse to come get you. But please help yourself to our waiting room."

The performance artist angrily walked towards where the nurse had taken Joanne until another nurse had stopped. "Miss we cannot have you in here. She'll be out soon." As the nurse took Maureen back to the waiting room, Joanne looked around for her girlfriend as they helped her lay down on the operating table. "Where's Maureen? Where is my girlfriend?" The nurse helped make Joanne's comfortable as she prepared herself for surgery. "She's in the waiting room miss; she'll be here as soon as you're done." This didn't give any comfort to the lawyer as the doctors carefully cleaned an area of her hand. "We're going to numb you hand so you won't feel it when we remove the rest of the glass." Joanne nodded as she laid her head back, thinking of Maureen who was worried sick in the waiting room. The performance artist looked around at all of the people who were waiting along with her and couldn't help but feel that this would be the beginning of the end for them all. No good could come from Mimi, and she didn't think that it would begin anytime soon as she looked about her.

"God Mimi…why now baby? Why now?"