Hey guys! God, I'm so sorry it took me so long to post this…I just potentially lost inspiration for this story. But then today my muse decided to come back to me and she gave me this :)

P.S. It's official; this is the last instalment of the 3 Hours story! So enjoy it! :)

I sighed dejectedly as the last person—Collins—finally said goodbye (Apparently nobody could take the pain of seeing Mark's pale body anymore). Normally, for any other person probably, I probably would've been the first person out…

But this isn't anyone. It's Mark. Someone who would stay by my side—and everyone else's side for that matter.

So despite the fact that it's slowly killing me inside, I stay. God, I hate being the martyr. I thought with a sigh as I looked towards the door that Collins left through. I clenched my hands and looked away, knowing if I looked too long old habits would take over. After all, old habits die hard. I sighed as my eyes darted from the door to the clock above it, and my eyes widened marginally.

11:00 p.m.? It's been 12 hours already? I asked as I looked over my recent memories.

Yep, it sure seemed like it's been 12 hours since I found Mark bleeding to death on the loft's floor. And after a quick calculation (okay, quick in my sense of the word) it dawned on me that by what the nurses and doctor said, it's been 12 hrs and 46 minutes since Mark was almost…beaten to death…

God, no matter how many times I think it, it doesn't make it any easier to think, say or come to term with.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead to keep myself breathing evenly as I bent forwards. I needed to keep breathing easily before I began to panic…the last thing I needed was to be kicked out of Mark's room because I got over-emotional and freaked out.

Wait, when did over-emotional get into my dictionary? I thought with a frown.

I remembered when barely 2 years ago I was practically the King of Ice. The King of Hiding Emotions. The King of Reflection. So what the hell happened to me? What the hell brought me from the King of No Emotion to King of Emotional Wreck?

I opened my eyes and frowned at the comatose body beside me. Stupid filmmaker…I thought as I realized that it was all Mark's fault. After all, Mark got me through some of the worst times of my life. He refused to leave me at my most violent or at my most vulnerable. He was there for me whenever I needed advice or AZT. He was there to make me smile and give me inspiration.

Normally people would say that this was a good thing. That I was lucky to have Mark Cohen in my life…

But what people don't know is that when someone becomes your best friend, your partner in crime, the peanut butter to your jelly (which says a lot since Mark's allergic to peanut butter)…It all just leads to one thing;

Them worming themselves into your heart.

Once they get in, there's no turning back. Once they're past your barriers, they're a part of you. And it all leads ultimately to them caring for you and vice versa. And once you care for one another, it's easy to get hurt.

Which is the case here…Mark isn't the only one hurt. I thought with a grimace as I lounged back. By the looks of things, I was going to be here for awhile so—

Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep….Beep….Beep…..BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Looks like I'm not going to be here for awhile.

I gasped and within seconds I was standing up and shaking Mark. What he fuck? What was happening? Why was he flat-lining? There has to be a problem with the machine…It can't be him actually flat-lining could it be?

Before I could question this further though, nurses and a doctor were filling the room and surrounding Mark and arms were suddenly grabbing me and pulling me away from Mark.

What the HELL? Is this person fucking NUTS?

I quickly wrenched myself out of the person's grip, refusing to budge. Thankfully this person wasn't that big a person, so I had no trouble fighting to get away. Besides, I honestly didn't want to fight someone at the moment. My friend's flat-lining! Hello?

Of course though, because I had no luck, this person was a force to be reckoned with. This person was suddenly back again, grabbing my biceps and refusing to budge. I again tried to wrench myself free, but this person was not going without a fight. This person dug their manicured fingernails into my leather jacket, making me growl in frustration. This was no doubt a woman, so I couldn't just push her into a wall. My momma didn't raise me that way.

But that didn't mean I couldn't fight back in a non-attacking way.

I quickly slipped out of my jacket in a smart move of my own, leaving this woman holding my jacket while I rushed to the freedom that was Mark's bedside.

But this was not meant to be, because seconds later a much stronger person was grabbing me.

I knew without turning around that it was a young man grabbing me and dragging to towards the door of Mark's room. The man was probably at the prime of his physical strength, so I knew without a doubt that the sickly, unfit me (who has to seriously go to a gym after this is over) would lose in a fight. So I went in another direction.

"Let me go! Let me go! This is my brother! You can't fucking pull me away you son of a bitch!" I cried out angrily in my best 'don't-mess-with-me' voice. But it didn't seem to be working, because the guy was still pulling me away, all the while yelling over the hustle of nurses and doctors and the resonating beep in the room for me to stop fighting.

But I wasn't going down without a fight.

You left me no choice. I thought bitterly at the guy as I realized what I was going to have to do. With all my energy and strength I yanked one of my arms away from the guy's grip, made sure my elbow was facing the guy's gut and then with as much force as I could I brought my elbow swiftly down. My elbow hit his gut with a brute force I've never been capable before, even when I was in top condition, and my blow caused the guy to back away with a cough and a sputter. No doubt he was feeling immense pain now and if I'm being totally honest, I feel sorry for him.

But none of that matters now, because I'm running to Mark's beside.

The doctor and nurses were still bustling around Mark, trying to get his heart to beat by the time I reached his bedside…but by the loud, pure beep filling the room I knew he was still flat lining.

"Mark! Mark! Stay with me buddy! Don't you dare think about leaving me! Don't you dare!" I yelled almost angrily. To be totally honest, I was angry. Outraged. How dare my best friend think of leaving me when I need him so much more than anyone else in this whole fucking world? How could he even begin to contemplate dying when he has so many people on Earth who love him and need him?

I know it sounds totally selfish and cruel to ask him to stay because we—I need him, but I honestly can't help being selfish when it comes to this. I can't help but selfishly hold onto him and not wanna let go. I don't think I could survive losing him…after all, I didn't take Angel's death and Mimi's near-death very well…how could I survive alive and well without Mark?

"Hey! Get him out of here now!" The doctor suddenly cried after I yelled at Mark.

"No! No, please!" I exclaimed as I felt arms grabbing me. They were finally bringing out the big guns. This was my final chance. "Mark, stay with me alright! You need to live you motherfucker! Be the amazing unselfish man that we all love. That we all need! Live Goddammit!"

"Come on now, out you get!" the man from before muttered, dragging me away. I'm surprised that he recovered so quickly. But that emotion is quite vague compared to the desperation I'm feeling now as they pull me away. I know it's a losing battle; I know they'll never let me back to Mark's bedside. But I cannot help but fight anyway, because that's who I am.

"Dude, stop fighting!" the nurse, the woman from before, cried in frustration, "Stop fighting or I'm going to have to sedate you!"

For a second I actually considered letting her sedate me. After all, I wouldn't mind getting knocked out for a couple hours, letting my mind escape from this hellhole of a place, mentally escape from this whole situation…but Mark doesn't deserve that. He deserves me being there for him, right until the very end.

"Okay, I'll stop! I'll stop! Just—just please let me stay in the room." I begged, not caring that I stuttered yet again. The two nurses exchanged looks as I went limp in their arms and I could see a hint of compassion in both of their eyes. I give them both one last pleading look, hoping they'll give in and just let me stay. Even if I'm just in the corner.

I honestly don't give a fuck where I am, as long as I'm here.

The male nurse sighed before letting go of me, while the girl nurse rubbed my arm sympathetically before letting me go, leaving me free to do as I please.

Not wanting to get kicked out again, I backed up until I was in no one's way and I was leaning against the wall. The wall was a constant I needed at the moment, to hold me up literally, just in case my other constant fell from my grasp. I took shallow gasps as people around me passed in a blur, trying to revive my brother. I couldn't believe this was happening—just moments before this I was preparing to stay the night. Now Mark was looking into the eye of Death, alone, without me. A situation I never imagined, never thought possible.

I looked almost detachedly as a doctor and a couple of nurses tried to revive Mark. The doctor was shocking his system with the paddles of the revival device and was trying to breathe life into his lungs. Mark on the other hand was as pale as the sheets under him and was as skinny and scrawny as an awkward teenage boy. I almost feared that the doctor and nurses would break his ribs with all the punching they were doing with the battles.

"C'mon guys we're coming on 3 minutes here! Up the voltage!" the Doctor cried, rubbing the paddles together. My gasps became deeper and I slowly realized that if he didn't wake soon, I was going to have a heart attack. Or at the very least a panic attack.

The pumped on Mark's chest again, yet this didn't seem to get them anywhere. They breathed again for him, but there was nothing. They repeated these two steps one more time, but there was nothing. No hint of consciousness, no hint of a heartbeat, no pulse. This was the last straw for me.

"Mark, Goddammit, come back to us! Please! I love you!"

This of course, was taken the wrong way by everyone in the room, who now obviously thought I was gay. I probably would've laughed in their faces and then defended myself if this was in any other situation, but this isn't any other situation. I honestly care less what they think right now.

Mark needed to know I care for him, I love him. He needed to know that he was my best friend, the brother I never had. He needed to know, and I needed to tell him just in case he…died.

There I said it. He could die today. And because of this, he needed to know how much I care for him.

After gathering their wits again (everyone basically went into shock when I yelled that I loved Mark), they pumped the paddles into Mark's chest again and time seemed to slow. Everything seemed to freeze as we waited for a reaction from Mark. A breath in, a cough, a twitch…anything.

But nothing came.

My heart stopped and I felt my legs shaking. I couldn't believe it…Mark had to come back! He had to! He couldn't just leave me behind. He couldn't! I took a deep breath, ready to scream at him, to get him up, to get him to breathe, when—

A loud and shuddery gasp filled the room.

Afraid my ears were deceiving me, I looked over at Mark's pale body. He was shaking on the hospital bed and his eyes were closed, but his chest…it was rising and falling deeply and slowly! He was breathing! I suddenly couldn't help the tears gushing down my cheeks and the laughter bubbling from my throat. He was fine…

And just as I thought I couldn't be any happier, Mark opened his blue eyes and looked around him. I grinned at him with the biggest grin I've ever given. I was just…too happy for words.

The doctor smiled at Mark and said, "Welcome back Mr. Cohen. We almost lost you there for a second."

Mark looked around, looking so confused and so much like a little child that I couldn't help but let out a sigh. He looked so…lost, and it kind of broke my heart.

"Where-where am I?" Mark croaked, sounding as if a little monster had scratched up his throat.

"You're in the hospital—you what? I'll let your…friend explain it to you, because he's probably dying to see how you're doing."

It took me a second before I realized that the doctor was talking about me. I guess I'm just still in shock. But really? Who can blame me? Just moments ago Mark was almost guaranteed to be put in the ground. But now…he's alive and he's…frowning?

"Which friend?"

I smiled happily. He did know that he had so many people who cared for him and loved him?...Then why didn't he come back to us sooner? Not the time to wonder Roger…go talk to your best friend.

"The one that never takes his AZT."

Mark's lips instantly twisted into a smile, a sight that made me smile as well. The doctor smiled at us both, looking quite proud of himself, and when I had finally shuffled over to Mark's bedside, he whispered, "I think I'll leave you two alone." And quickly left us two alone with a quiet click of the door. I took the doctor's place so Mark wouldn't have to turn his head in my direction. When I got in Mark's line of sight, his smile widened and he looked like he couldn't be happier.

"Mark, if you ever do this to me again, I'm going to have to resurrect you and then kill you."

Mark laughed, which was quickly followed by a groan and his hand quickly came to his chest. Mental note: don't make him laugh. I sighed and grabbed his other hand and held it. I know this isn't a very straight guy thing to do, but who cares? Mark almost died today. Therefore, everything's changed for me.

"So what happened?" Mark asked, who seemed to have gathered enough of his wits to ask the question that's probably been on his mind since he woke up.

"Well…you were stabbed in the lung, you went into a coma and you almost died. But thankfully, the doctor and nurses brought you back from the dead." I said with a fake smile. I was trying to act like none of this bothered me…but I knew by the incredulous look Mark was giving me I wasn't doing well at hiding it.

"Okay, if I'm being totally honest…you scared the shit out of me Mark. Please, don't do this to me ever again." I asked my voice cracking. I saw some guilt flare in Mark's eyes and I couldn't help but feel guilty for putting it there…but I can't take back what I said. I don't want this happening again and willing to risk a little guilt to make sure it doesn't.

"I promise." Mark whispered, gripping my hand. Now, I know that Mark might not be able to keep that promise—after all, he can't control his destiny—but I can't find it within myself to be disbelieving. So I nod and grip his hand back.

A sudden knock makes us both twist around to look at the door. The doctor from before had come back. I send a quick prayer that he hasn't come to send me away.

"Um…just wanted to warn you, I have let your group of friends know you're awake and they refused to be deterred from coming in here. So expect company soon you two." The doctor said with a wink, earning an embarrassed blush from me and a frown from Mark.

Looks like I have some explaining to do.

THE END

Okay, not my best ending.

So since this isn't the best ending, I've decided it's a possibility that I'll post a sequel to this :) It'd be small, only a couple of chapters, but it'll be a sequel and it'll give more closure to you and me I guess.

But I also want to know if you guys'll actually read. So to let me know you will, please go to my profile and vote for it (I'm posting a new 'Sequel or not?' poll) :) or if you're too lazy, by all means review! :D

-Ms_Mea