Roger sighs softly as he plucks the cigarette from his lips, letting the smoke fall out and litter the sky. It's a deep blue – the sky – his favorite blue, speckled with brilliant diamonds staring back at him. There's something about the sky he loves. Maybe it's the fact that there's something bigger than him, bigger than everyone, maybe it's the mystery, maybe it's the color, but whatever it is, he finds himself fascinated and the roof of the loft is his favorite place to be, especially at night when Maureen's either puking or sleeping, neither of which she's in the mood to do with him right now. He doesn't care too much, though. She's having his baby.

"Hey."

Mark stumbles up the steps behind him, panting slightly, clutching his camera as usual.

"Look at the sky, Mark," he commands, pointing up towards it.

"Yeah, it's uh, nice, Rog," Mark nods, rubbing his hands together. "Is that why you asked me to come up? Show me the sky?"

"Isn't it fascinating?"

Mark looks at Roger curiously. Roger's never been very sentimental and this is probably the closest to it he's ever been with Mark.

"Sure," he nods. "It's kinda cold, don't you think?"

"Nah, it's nice," Roger smiles, dropping his smoke and scuffing it out with his boot. "Especially for October."

"Yeah, alright," Mark nods, shivering. "So you wanted to talk?"

"I mean, look at that. There's something out there and it's bigger than me and bigger than you and bigger than us and it's always going to be there, no matter what we do."

Mark scrunches his face and studies the midnight backdrop as if he's missing something. Roger's going on and on about something slightly philosophical and Mark can't find it. "You been hanging out with Collins?"

"Mark, I'm uh… Maureen and I… we're… having a baby."

Mark is quiet for a moment – he knows, Maureen told him. But he has to act surprised, so he throws on the best face he can. "Wow. Congratulations! That's… that's great," he lies.

"Mark," Roger continues. "I uh… you think I'm ready for this?"

He studies Roger's face for a moment and for the first time in his life, behind that smile, he sees something in Roger's eyes. Fear. Roger's never afraid.

Mark has no idea what to tell Roger. No, he's not fucking ready. He's twenty two. Who has a baby at twenty two and is ready for it? Roger doesn't have a job, Maureen's just finished college. They live in this shit hole with three other people. Three other people who, while a baby would be cute, would love to sleep through the nights. The damn walls are so thin, no one's gonna sleep for months. Maureen loves going out partying and Roger's got his gigs. Who's gonna watch the kid when they want to go out? Mark's not sure which would be worse: a cranky sleep-deprived lactating Maureen or a cranky sleep-deprived sober Roger. There'd be no more smoking or drinking around the baby.

"Yeah, Rog," Mark nods, smiling. "I do."

"Good," he sighs, relieved. "I'm scared Mark. I don't know if I'll be good at this."

Me either.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Mark replies, nodding.

"Thanks Mark," Roger sighs, grabbing onto Mark and pulling him into a hug. "I knew if you thought I could do it, I'd be alright."

Mark is slightly surprised by this gesture but slowly moves his arms around Roger as well. "Yeah. I know everything," he chuckled nervously.

"Well, don't get cocky, there Mark," Roger teased pulling back. He fishes back into his pocket and tugs out another cigarette, putting it between his lips, but not lighting quite yet.

Mark watches as Roger pauses and then turns to him again.

Shit, here we go again.

"Mark."

"Yeah?"

"You're my best friend."

"You're mine, too."

"Uh, Mark… I want to… if anything happens to… to me… and Maureen… you'll… the baby…" Roger sputters.

"You want me to take the baby," he says slowly.

"Well, yeah," Roger nods, smiling softly.

Mark considers this for a while, staring out at the sky. He marvels, too, at the color and size. And just how small someone can feel in a single moment and yet… so big. Godfather. Mark's going to be the baby's godfather.

"You know, this doesn't mean you get to dump the kid with me whenever you feel like it. I'm not your permanent babysitter."

Roger grins from ear to ear before pulling Mark into a hug again, clapping his back excitedly. "Thanks, Mark. Maureen and I talked a long time and decided it should be you."

"Yeah, yeah," Mark shakes his head before pulling the cigarette from Roger's lips. "Who else were you considering? Certainly not Benny…"

"You stole my cig," he laughs. "You don't smoke."

"I know," Mark sighs, holding his hand out expectantly. "And you can't much longer."

"I know. I'm trying to quit…"

"Don't lie," Mark laughs.

"Shut up. Uncle Marky…"

"Don't."

"Uncle Marky…"

"Roger, I'm serious."

"Maaaaaaarky… with his baby bib all covered in puke."

"That'd be you, Dad."

"Uncle Marky…"