Whoot! another chapter down! This one's got BIG paragraphs so just bear with me! Thank you to al who reviewed! It means SO much to me!

Disclaimer: I Don't own, I RENT. Except my storyline and my characters . . . those are mine.

Where Could He Be?

1 month and 24 days; almost 2 months since Mark disappeared. Almost 2 months since e ran out that loft door to buy smack. And almost 2 months since he broke Jo's heart by becoming violent from withdrawal and running away. They hadn't seen Mark since. Roger was furious and hurt. Before Mark had run off, he had become violent and had cut Roger's arm and shoved Jo to the ground. He ended up making Roger draw blood to which Roger ran to the bathroom and Mark ran out the door. The blood had been cleaned up thoroughly for fear of Jo catching the disease that plagued their family. Mark was searched for on foot and motorbike. Two days later, Joanne filed a missing person's report in hopes the police might help the Bohos in their search for their smack addicted friend. But much to their dismay, the police couldn't find him either.

Now it was 1 month and 24 days later and the Bohos were slowly losing hope of ever finding their friend. Jo had stopped crying; she was tired of crying. Mimi watched Jo like a hawk to ensure she wouldn't do anything drastic. Collins was furious at Mark. He was so sure that Mark would be strong and give up smack for himself and his family. But it turned out smack was more important to Mark. Jo asked Richard if he'd seen Mark buying from other dealers but, as expected, the answer was an apologetic "no". It was early December now and already a harsh chill was settling over New York. Everyone silently wondered how Mark was fairing in the cold weather since he had failed to grab his coat and his scarf in his rush out of the loft. They also wondered where he could be. His mother kept calling to check on him and how his non-existent "withdrawal" was going. No one had the courage to pick up the phone to tell Mrs. Cohen that her son was missing and was probably doing unspeakable things for money for his still growing addiction to heroin.

Jo had been having nightmares of her terrible experience of shooting and getting shot by Ray. But the nightmares had changed recently from the murderous face of Ray to the harsh, uncharacteristically cruel face of Mark as he shoved her to the ground like a useless toy. She'd wake up sweating and sobbing and wishing she had never seen Mark like that. She missed him terribly. Her heart was broken for her only love by her only love . . . And she didn't know what to do. Mimi was constantly trying to reassure Jo that Mark was okay and that he would come home soon. But he hadn't. He was still out there in the city: homeless, probably starving, freezing and addicted to heroin. Still, even when it seemed pointless, Jo and the Bohos still clung to the hope of seeing Mark again.

Jo awoke abruptly on the 55th day of Mark's disappearance. She had had another nightmare about Mark; but this time, in her dream she saw Mark alone on the streets . . . dying. Of what, Jo didn't know but she knew he was dying . . . She took a deep breath and hugged herself, silently praying that her dreams wouldn't come true. She was taken out of her thoughts by a knock on her door.

*knock knock knock*

"Jo? Baby Girl? You awake?"

It was Collins. Jo got out of bed and went to her door, opening it to reveal her dark-skinned friend.

"Morning Collins," She said as cheerfully as she could, which wasn't very cheerful.

"Hey Baby Girl, how are you?" Collins placed an arm around Jo's shoulder and lead her to the worn couch where Roger was plucking at his guitar.

"Fine," Jo sat on the couch sideways and faced her attention out the fire escape window. Mimi strolled out of the kitchen, where she was cleaning, and came up behind Jo and started petting her hair. Jo leaned into Mimi's soft touch and sighed.

"You have another nightmare?" Mimi asked knowingly. Jo nodded and sighed again. "About Mark?"

Jo said nothing but looked across the couch to Roger who set his guitar down and pulled on his leather jacket.

"I'm going for a walk." Roger said, "I'll be back in a bit." And with that, he was out the door.

"He'll be okay." Collins said, taking a hit from the joint in his hand, "He's just lettin' off steam."

"D'you think it's because I mentioned Mark?" Mimi asked, accepting the joint passed to her by Collins and taking a hit before passing it to Jo.

"Probably," Jo said, taking a long puff of the joint before lazily passing it back to Collins. "Roger misses Mark a lot. It gets quiet around here without Mark's narration of life and the nose of the projector running."

"I know what you mean." Collins said sadly, "I know what you mean."

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Roger barreled down the street away from the loft. The mention of Mark made him uncomfortable. How were you supposed to be comfortable with the fact that your best friend was missing and has a bad addiction to heroin?

Roger sighed and turned down a side alley.

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A couple of hours later, Roger started to make his way back to the loft, having cleared his head and gotten good exercise. He turned down a dark alley, as a short cut to the loft, and almost missed seeing a shadowed form next to a dumpster. But for some reason, he stopped and looked at the figure. Something was familiar about it . . . Curiosity getting the best of him; Roger cautiously stepped toward the figure and knelt down.

The man on the ground was pale and appeared unconscious and freezing. He looked more like a boy than a man and there were blonde roots peeking out of his chin-length brown hair . . .

Blonde?

Roger gently shook the man. "Hey, kid, you okay?" As he shook the boy, a used needle fell out of his hand. Roger's eyes widened as he suddenly recognized the face he was looking at. Mark? Roger shook the boy again and this time Mark opened his eyes a bit to reveal familiar winter-blue before the soft, blonde-lashed lids fell closed again. "Mark?" Roger asked, shaking him again. This time Mark's blue eyes stayed open.

"R-Ro-Roger . . .?" Mark wheezed out, his voice coarse and weak.

Roger sighed in relief. "Oh god, Mark," Roger held Mark's face while Mark fought to keep his eyes open. "Mark, are you okay?" Roger asked, taking note that Mark's skin was ice cold against his own.

"C- . . . cold . . ." Mark was fading. Fast. Roger realized he needed to act quickly if Mark was going to survive the cold.

"Mark," Roger addressed, "Can you walk?" But Mark didn't respond. "Mark? Mark!" Roger shook Mark again but the former blonde failed to respond. "Shit." Roger placed two fingers on Mark's pulse point and his ear next to Mark's mouth. Mark's pulse was weak and his breathing shallow. Oh god . . . Roger thought, He's dying . . .

As carefully as he could so as not to injure Mark's thin, frail body, Roger easily picked Mark up and cradled him in his arms before setting out toward the loft.

He only hoped he wouldn't be too late . . .

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"Roger's been out for a while. D'you think he's on his way home?" Mimi asked curiously.

"Most likely," Jo replied nonchalantly, "Roger's not one to stay out all night without letting someone know.

Mimi nodded.

Suddenly, Roger's voice was heard yelling. "Jo! Collins! Mimi! Someone! Help!"

Immediately the trio ran out to the fire escape to find Roger on the street below holding someone.

"It's Mark!" Roger yelled up, "I can't get the door open!"

"Oh god," Jo bolted through the window and down the stairs, followed closely by Mimi and Collins.

Not two minutes later, the trio was running toward Mark and Roger.

"I found him in an alley not far from here." Roger Explained as Collins took half of what little weight Mark had and Mimi held the door open. "He needs to get warm. And he recognized me before he passed out."

"Oh god," Jo whispered as she held Mark's head as they walked quickly up the stairs to the loft.

When they got there, they carefully carried Mark to the metal table and covered him in all the loft's blankets before calling 911. Jo cried silently as she sat on the table with Mark's head in her lap. She thought she was done crying . . . But it was right for her to cry. Her nightmare was coming true.

"How long till they get here?" Mimi asked Collins quietly.

"5-10 minutes; I told them that he might not have that long. They just said to keep his body temp from going down farther and try to gently warm him up." Collins sighed and looked toward the table where Jo was quietly talking to the unresponsive form of Mark Cohen.

"What happened to him during those two months?"

"From the looks of it," Collins started, his eyes not leaving the sight of the pale girl holding the almost blue boy. "Mark dyed his hair to keep us from finding him and his smack addiction only worsened."

"Why isn't he shaking from withdrawal yet?" Mimi was just full of questions.

Roger answered for Collins. "He must have had a hit before he passed out. When I shook him, a needle fell out of his hand."

Collins nodded and sirens were heard. Mimi ran down to greet the paramedics and show them to the loft. Roger went to Mark's room to pack a bag of necessities that Mark might need. And Collins gently pulled Jo away from Mark and held her in a bear hug while the paramedics worked on Mark. Mark was taken to the hospital and the 4 Bohos squeezed into Jo's truck and followed the ambulance.

Joanne and Maureen were already there, having been called by Roger before they left the loft.

"Josie," Maureen ran to the petite girl and held her tight, She was followed by Joanne who greeted Roger, Collins and Mimi with hugs of her own.

"I can't believe this is happening." Joanne said. "How was he when they took him?"

"Unconscious . . . and freezing," Collins provided solemnly, "We tried to warm him up a bit but . . . who knows if it worked."

"How bad was he?"

"Bad; his smack addiction has gotten worse and it looks like he's been living off the streets."

"The streets?" Maureen asked, shocked. "Mark's been out on the street all this time?"

"Honey-bear . . ."

"No! He could have died! He could have AIDS!" Maureen yelled, "He could still die! Here! In this hospital! Like Angel did!" An that's then Maureen broke down in sobs. Joanne and Mimi immediately ran to comfort the diva. "I just . . . I just . . . I don't want him to die . . ." She cried out softly, "He's . . . he's . . . the one . . . to . . . survive . . ."

Reena, he will survive." Collins placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "Mark's strong. He'll get through this. Right Jo?" Collins looked up, "Jo?" They looked around and realized they were missing Roger as well.

"Jo? Roger?"

*laughs* oh no! where have Roger and Jo gone?? You'll see next chapter!! *laughs again*