Author's Notes: Another chapter for my dears! Sorry it took so long, I just moved back into my dorm and I've been very busy with all of the extra curricular things I've put myself into. I'm a junior! Ahh! I can't believe it. It seems like only yesterday when I was a freshman sighs. Wish me luck guys, classes start Thursday.

I OWN NOTHING (only the story & add-ons).

Please read, review and enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-One

With Mark and Collins

The sound was distant, but he could hear. His eyes were blurry, and it hurt physically as the sun sharply entered into his irises. He couldn't feel much, but he could hear his own heart and that made him all the happier. This ol' beat up heart was beating again, beating for Angel. Remembering the past few day's events made tears well in his dry eyes, and as they fell slowly down his dark cheeks a figure on his bed came into view.

Mark? He called in his thoughts, why couldn't he hear him?

The professor proceeded to move a finger, a toe, anything to get Mark's attention. Opening his eyes widely, Collins looked around him. No Angel was in sight. Just a weeping Mark.

Lifting his head, Mark looked up at his old friend who was slowly regaining consciousness. "Oh my God, Collins?"

The professor put on a shy smile, lifting his hand a bit to wave to him. Mark rushed over to him, hugging him as lightly as he could. Tears flew out of Mark's eyes, he was back, Collins was back. Now the group would be together again.

Collins tried to open his mouth to speak, but the tubes were in the way. Mark understood immediately putting a finger to his own mouth to get Collins to understand. Collins relaxed into his bed, already tired from opening his eyes. The medication poured through his infected veins, causing his already tired frame to slowly drift off to sleep. A million thoughts ran through his head, and it was a little too much to handle at the moment.

"It's okay man, we're just glad you're awake. We'll be back tomorrow morning I promise."

Using his last bit of energy, Collins lifted his finger tracing an A into the air. The film maker froze, at a loss of what to say.

"She's fine Tom."

Smiling, Collins peacefully drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a time and place where Angel and he could be, alone.

Mark watched his friend fall into a deep sleep and ran out of the room to the phone to call the loft. Breathing heavily, Mark waited and waited for someone to pick up the phone, but no one did. Figuring he should leave a message in case Roger got there, Mark tried to control his emotions as he spoke into the phone.

"Roger! Oh my fucking God Roger! He's awake! Tom is awake. He's alert, but tired. Please Roger, just listen to me. We're all fucked up right now, but we need to come together. We can fight this Roger. We can. I believe in all of us. It's only gonna make us stronger, please don't desert us now."

Hanging up, Mark slowly hung up the phone and walked back to Collins' room, ever ready for him when he woke up again.

With Roger

The guitarist watched the answering machine's red light finally stop blinking, letting Mark's words sink into him. Tom is awake. Alive. Angel managed to not kill him. That last sentence played over and over in his head, never giving him a chance to breathe from anger. For a moment he swore he could hear Collins' laugh as Angel sat on his laugh whispering things into his ear. Where was that time? When did it leave them? Why did it leave them? The group had so much shit in their lives, why did those moments feel like they had over welcomed their stay?

Taking the gun, he shoved it underneath his bed not wanting any part of it for right now. He wasn't sure how he was feeling, and he didn't want the thing anywhere near him. Ever since April, he knew that he'd never submit to suicide's welcoming release, but he still wasn't sure. The gun hit something under the bed and the rocker lifted the mattress to see what he had underneath it.

Roger shook his head when he saw what was underneath it. Condoms, syringes and even a couple of baggies were still there. If he was going through withdrawal right about now and had seen that, he'd probably be dead right now. Roger grabbed the syringes and flung them into a paper bag, placing it on the floor. Stomping with all of his might, Roger's boot hit the plastic, shattering everything underneath. The sound of the crumbling syringes filled the room, and it invigorated the rocker who twisted his foot into the bag.

Feeling content, Roger picked up the bag opening it slightly to see his damage. Everything was destroyed. Grabbing the baggies, he walked over to the bathroom opening them up and pouring them into the toilet standing in the exact spot where April committed suicide.

Throwing the paper bag into the main trashcan, he slammed the top of the trashcan practically hyperventilating from his experience. He couldn't have been more proud of himself then and there. Running back into his room and fumbling for his cigarettes, Roger walked out onto the fire escape a content smile brightening his face.

Lighting up his cigarette Roger took in a long drag, looking at his beloved city, the lights hiding the even brightest of stars. His gaze instinctively looked down, looking for his girl. There she stood, not even noticing that she was being stared at. The Latina's hair blew in the warm wind that was beginning to pick up covering her face just a bit. Placing her cigarette into her mouth to put her hair behind her ears, Mimi took in a drag as Roger quietly descended the stairs, her form illuminated by a local streetlight. He placed his arms around her startling her.

"You better be glad I love you."

He turned her around as she took her cigarette out of her mouth gladly obliging the kiss that was coming towards her. He gently rubbed her behind surprising her, but she smiled as they continued to kiss. Leading her up the fire escape and eventually into the loft, Roger lifted Mimi with ease into his bedroom laying her gently down. She still held onto her cigarette taking a drag before Roger took it out of her mouth stamping it out into a nearby ashtray. She kicked her boots off, as he did and welcomed him with her sexy smile. He eyed her lustfully, as he climbed on top of her kissing her sweetly as she moaned into his ear.

With Angel

Angel watched as Mimi and Roger walked up the fire escape, a little weary that she couldn't be with her man right now. But whose fault was that? She knew it, and she didn't need anyone else to tell her. Walking over to the couch, Angel went into her backpack taking out her drumsticks. She wouldn't be here while Mimi continued to play with Roger's emotions.

Walking out onto the street, Angel found her favorite street corner about a block down from the loft, finding her pickle tub she had stored away behind some trash cans sat herself down and drummed her heart away. She closed her eyes in a complete trance, letting the beat of her heart guide her. Every once in a while someone would drop a dollar here and a dollar there, but she didn't pay attention. She'd give it to a homeless person anyway.

What would she ever do without her drum? Probably not even be alive. Opening her eyes, she eyed someone who was watching her from across the street. It scared her for a moment until he came into view; he smiled as he walked over to her.

"Hey there Angel. I didn't think you'd be on this corner today."

Angel stopped drumming tucking them under her arm, hugging the man. "Hey there yourself Mr. Hume, how are you this evening?"

The older man smiled at the street drummer as she sat her self on the pickle tub. "I heard on the news what happened to a drag queen from around here, you know him?"

Looking up to the man, she shrugged her shoulders. "Nope, never met him."

"I see." The man sat behind Angel in a nearby stoop, on an old chair. "Play away Angel, we've been looking forward to hearing you."

Angel did just as she was told until an older woman came out of the apartment Angel was in front of and onto a step. "Angel is that you!"

An overweight African-American woman walked over to the street drummer hugging her tightly. "My curtains that we made look great honey, come on in I'll show them to you!"

Angel smiled as she walked into the modest home that smelled of good food and good times. At least for a moment she'd be able to escape her life, and enjoy Mrs. Hume's newly sewed curtains.

With Joanne and Miss Abram

The older woman cried out to Joanne as she continued to walk to the back of Theatre. "You stop right there! You can't give up on these children! They need you! They look up to you!"

Joanne slammed her fist on the door. "No! They don't need me! What's the point? Why can't we just give up?"

Finally making it to the back of the Theatre, Miss Abram placed her hand on the lawyer who began to cry. "Because it's not what you do."

Meeting the old woman's wise eyes with her own, Joanne got the spark that she had needed all along. "Let's do it."

Miss Abram yelled out in happiness. "That's my girl!"

Joanne ran back to the front of the Theatre, a new song in her heart. "Call everyone! We've got to find a place to rehearse! The show isn't leaving, and the Mayor's wife better be prepared to kiss my ass."

Dialing into her cell phone, Joanne called Maureen who sleepily answered the phone. "Honeybear? I hope you're dressed because we're going to rebuild the show. Yes! I know it's going to be hard work, but guess what? It's worth it."

Author's Notes: Please excuse the almost Mimi/Roger smut, I just love the passion between them. Had to do it. Hope you liked it! Ya'll know what to do, REVIEW.