A/N: Okay, 1) this is a warning that Mark is going to swear like a sailor in this chapter, 2) some of you were concerned that Jo might be mary sue-ish . . . don't worry. Jo has many flaws (such as she can't cook anything besides pasta and Ramen) 3) It might take me a while to update the next chapter. It all depends on how much free time I have. 4) I thought about making Mark faint when he sees Jo, but then I thought 'No, that would make him too girly and he'd be OOC' So I didn't. and 5) thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted my story. I feel so luved!

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, Jonathan Larson does. I do, however, own my characters and my plotline.

Chapter 2: Reunited

Knock, knock, knock

Roger looked up to the loft door from his place on the couch a little perplexed. He had been sitting on the duct-taped covered piece of furniture minding his own business when he heard the knock. Reluctantly, Roger stood up, leaving his guitar on the couch, and made his way to the loft door. He wondered if it was Mark who had come home from filming early and had lost his key, or Mimi simply coming to visit her favorite boyfriend. Either way, he wouldn't have his answer until he opened the door.

He slid the door open and stopped almost in shock. Standing in front of him was a petite girl about Mimi's size with dark raven tresses cut to her chin. She had a soft feature face which held expressive seal-grey eyes.

"Uh, hi," Roger greeted bluntly.

"Hi, you must be Roger," The girl said holding out her hand, "I'm Jo, I'm looking for Mark."

"Oh, um, Mark's not here right now. He's out filming; but he'll be back soon if you want to wait for him." Roger said, moving aside to let Jo in.

"Sure," Jo smiled warmly before stepping into the loft. Immediately she surveyed her surroundings, taking in all that there was to see in one fell swoop.

"Not too bad," She commented casually, "A bit messy, but then again Mark never was the tidiest person."

Roger chuckled, "Yeah, and I don't do anything to help it." Both laughed comfortably. "Um, do you want anything to drink?" Roger asked, trying to be a good host to this strange girl.

"No thanks, I'm good." Jo declined before taking a seat on the arm chair opposite the couch which Roger sat on.

"So, how did you know my name?" Roger asked.

"Mimi told me," Jo said casually, "I accidentally ran into her, literally. We were knocked down and I offered to help her get her groceries home. So we talked and I found out where Mark was and I learned your name." Jo smiled, satisfied. "She speaks highly of you."

Roger couldn't help but smile. "Okay, now that that's cleared, how do you know Mark?"

"I used to live in Scarsdale, right across the street from him. I met him in kindergarten and we stayed best friends until I left in my senior year of High School. I haven't seen or heard from Mark in almost nine years."

"Alright," Roger said, absorbing Jo's information, "Why hasn't Mark ever mentioned you?"

"Oh, he wouldn't. He knows I hate to be talked about." She replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Okay, my turn to ask a question: how did you meet Mark?"

Roger shrugged a bit. "I met him when Collins brought him home, introducing him as our new roommate. Apparently, he had dropped out of Brown to come film in New York and he needed a place to stay. We immediately took to each other and became best friends." He concluded.

"How long have you known him?"

"Seven years."

"He didn't stay in college long, did he?" Jo smirked.

"No, guess not." Roger laughed a bit.

"Mimi said you were a musician?" Jo said, pointing to Roger's guitar.

"Yeah, she inspired my song." Roger gushed, "I don't know what I'd do without her."

"Aw," Jo cooed teasingly, "That's sweet." She laughed.

This girl was strange to Roger, he felt like he almost knew her. She was very easy to talk to which was something Roger would characterize Mark as. Maybe . . . maybe Mark had told them all about her; not in words, but in actions.

"So, you've written your song," Jo continued, bringing Roger out of his thoughts, "What has Mark done?"

"He made a documentary about us. It's pretty good but he wants to touch it up a bit."

"Oh, an artist's work is never done!" Jo said dramatically before the pair burst into fits of laughter. It took a couple minutes to calm down but once they did, both continued to ask each other questions . . . or at least, tried to.

A loud bang was heard as the loft door slammed open and Mark entered, looking extremely pissed off, holding his camera, and muttering profanities.

"Uh, Mark?" Roger asked cautiously, hoping the filmmaker wouldn't explode, "You okay?"

"No I'm not fucking okay!" Mark growled, "My fucking camera just decided to stop fucking working so it could make my life a fucking living hell!"

Jo couldn't help but laugh at Mark's choice of words. "Holy shit, Mark," She managed between laughter, "I never knew you to be one to cuss something out, especially your camera!"

Mark spun on his heels to face Jo. Immediately, his face paled as if he was seeing a ghost. But according to him, he was.

"Josie . . . ?" Mark whispered as all the anger he held before disappeared.

"Hey Mark," Jo greeted, standing up and hugging her old friend, "Long time no see."

"Wha- . . . ? How- . . . ?" Mark was struggling for words, "You're alive?"

Jo looked at Mark, confusion written all over her face. "Why wouldn't I be silly?" She asked, cocking her head. "I mean, I know I haven't exactly let anyone know where I was but that didn't mean I was dead." She stated, watching Mark's barely changing expression. "And I don't go by 'Josie' anymore," she added, "It's just Jo now, Jo Emay."

"Jo?" Mark asked, confused. "Wait, but Josie how could you have . . . ? There was so much . . . I saw it . . . the motel . . . the . . . blood . . ."

"Mark? What are you on about?" Jo asked putting her hands on his shoulders.

"I saw it . . . there was blood everywhere . . . your blood . . . the police said you couldn't have survived . . ."

Jo looked utterly perplexed, "What?" she winced, trying to figure out what he was ranting about. "Richard . . . Richard said . . ." she muttered, more to herself than to Mark or Roger. Suddenly, her eyes lit up like a light bulb turning on. "Oh!" . . . and then it turned off. "Hmph . . . okay, I'm lost and confused. Could you tell me what you're talking about?"

Mark was flabbergasted, "Josie-"

"Jo,"

"Jo . . . you've been dead for eight years!"

Jo still looked confused. "But . . . I'm right here . . ."

"I know but you're not supposed to be."

Jo paused, thinking, "How so?"

Mark couldn't believe this was happening but decided to jump into an explanation anyway. "You disappeared about a month before graduation and the police found your blood in a motel room. They said you'd been kidnapped and murdered . . . I saw it with my own eyes! I thought I was going to pass out!

"Your parents were heartbroken. Obviously, they never found a body but everyone believed that you were actually dead. And yet, you're standing right in front of me! So either you really didn't die, or I've been smoking too much of Collins' weed."

Jo and Roger laughed, "No, I'm really here," she said pulling Mark into a hug. Mark hugged her back, taking in the familiar, almost forgotten, feeling of being close to Jo(sie). The two held each other for a bit longer before letting go and sitting down to talk.

"So . . ." Mark was unsure where to start. "Where have you been?"

Jo smiled widely, "Everywhere. I traveled around for 4 years before I fell in love with San Francisco. I've lived there for the past 4 years with my friends and roommates."

"Boys or girls?"

"Surprisingly, girls," Jo chuckled at Mark's face, "Amber, Ella, Lena, and Kaila; they're my closest chicas. I don't know what I'd do without them."

Mark nodded, "What happened when you . . . disappeared?"

Jo thought for a moment, "I'm not exactly sure. I was running to the grocery store to buy something when I noticed this car following me . . . next thing I know, my arm is bandaged and these two guys, Richard and Tino, are telling me I was lucky to be alive. According to them, this guy almost killed me before they stepped in and got me out of there.

"I don't remember the actual incident but they took care of me for a while before I decided to travel around the country. The only evidence I have that I actually almost died is the scar on my arm." Jo rolled up her sleeve and exposed s long, thick scar on her forearm. "It's a good thing Tino and Richard saved me in time, otherwise I'd have been a goner."

Mark nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on the imperfection on Jo's skin.

Suddenly, Roger's beeper went off.

"Take your AZT." Mark instructed Roger who got up and made his way to the medicine cabinet.

Mark looked at Jo, slight worry painting his face.

"Don't worry." She said, smiling reassuringly. "I already know. Mimi told me."

Mark's expression changed to confusion, "You've already met Mimi?"

Jo nodded and proceeded to explain how she met Mimi and how she found Mark. Roger came back into the room and watched the old friends interact with each other. When she was done, it was evening and Jo suggested they go get Mimi so she could thank her for her help.

"Hey Jo," Mimi said, hugging her new friend.

"Hey Mimi, thank you so much for helping me find Mark."

"No problem." Mimi and Jo sat down with the Boho boys and the three Bohemians started telling Jo all about Mark and Life in Bohemia until late into the night.

When they were done, Mark offered Jo a place to stay (after finding out she sometimes slept in her car). Roger and Mimi went to bed in Roger's room while Mark set Jo up in Collins' old bedroom.

"No one's slept in here for a while. Collins usually stays at his apartment that he shared with Angel, so . . ."

"Will I meet Collins?" Jo asked as she set her suitcase at the foot of the bed.

"Uh, yeah, of course you will. He comes to visit every few days." Mark said as he busied himself around the room.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? You seem a bit . . . twitchy."

"I'm fine," Mark lied.

"Mark . . . you know you can't lie to me." Jo said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Mark paused before speaking, "It's just . . . weird." He said, sitting on the worn mattress. "For the past 9 years I made myself believe you were dead; that I would never see you or hear your voice again. And then, out of the blue, you're here: alive and happy and all grown up." Mark sighed. "I'm just . . . still trying to comprehend all this."

Jo smiled warmly and pulled Mark into a hug. "I know it's hard," she said, "Hell, I can't believe I actually found you. But this is real. I'm actually here. And I'm not going anywhere until I have to. I promise."

The pair held onto each other for a long time. All the while thanking any higher power that they had found each other again.