CHAPTER 15

DISCLAIMER- I do not own RENT, this is 100% fiction.

Author's Note- Who's been lame and too occupied in "real life" to sit down and write to update this sucker?

-sheepishly raises hand-

I have. Sorry guys. But here's one now...

The results came sooner than she'd expected. She was alone in the house, feeling reflective over her bowl of sugary cereal. Mark had refused to buy Roger's cigarettes and snapped that if Roger wanted to indulge in some self-destructive habit he'd have to do it himself because Mark sure as hell wasn't going to speed up his trip to the grave. Roger practically growled a goodbye to her on his way out and Maureen watched him go, muddled by his change in behavior. Mark was having coffee with a girl.

"A date?" Maureen had teased. Mark shook his head earnestly.

"Nothing like that," He reassured her, going so far as to place a hand on her arm. Maureen deliberately dropped her eyes from his hand to his face, her gaze flicking between them until he removed his hand.

She could deal with his hopeful looks but when he touched her and implied that there was still something between them, she realized that she had to correct him.

"You do realize that I'm not- we're not together, Mark." She said, making it clear.

Mark nodded his head quickly, blushing. "I know that!"

"Well in case there's any confusion, I'm telling you. I didn't come back so we could get back together, I moved in because you're my friends and I need a place to stay."

"Okay Maureen, I get it. Sorry." He held up his hands defensively and headed out the door.

He hadn't been gone too long when Maureen remembered to check the mail. She pulled on a jacket and went downstairs to collect the mail from the metal box at the bottom of the stairs. A bit of junk mail, a letter addressed to Mark from his mother and an official-looking envelope with her name printed on front.

She didn't go upstairs to open it. Instead she sat down, right there on the street, and opened the envelope with slightly shaking fingers.

She scanned the formal greeting, her eyes zeroing in on the phrase that gave the news without pretense, without any clinical terms. She bit her lips and closed her eyes, then rose on shaky legs to return to the Loft.

Maureen prayed Collins would pick up quickly. She was terrified Roger would come home before she could compose herself.

The mechanical ringing stopped as a familiar voice answered. "Hello?"

"Collins!" She couldn't help but shout his name into the phone. She was so relieved he picked up, so very relieved to hear his comforting voice.

"Maureen, hey!" His voice brightened when he recognized the caller. "How are you? Getting settled?"

"Yeah, it's fine, but-"

"They're not giving you any trouble, are you? Mark's not trying to woo you back?" He laughed.

"I've set him straight on that account, but Collins I really need to talk to you about something important." She pressed, urgency clear in her tone. "Roger…"

"Yeah?"

"Me and him."

He waited for her to explain. When she didn't, he asked, "You and him… what? Is everything okay?"

"Not really. I mean, yes, he and I are getting along fine, but things are getting-" Complicated. Messy. Weird. She sighed. "I don't know.

"Well…" His word hung there as he tried to understand what exactly the matter was. There was more in her tone that she wasn't telling him. "He's being a jerk, or what? I mean, Roger's keeping his distance, right?"

"It's not that." She lost her nerve. How on earth could she explain things to Collins? What would he think about her? He might get mad, he wouldn't understand.

Footsteps on the stairs. Roger was back.

"Listen, I really have to go Collins, but I'm sorry I called- it's just been an adjustment. Sorry I got all weird on you."

"Maureen, it's fine. Call me anytime you need to talk, got it?"

"Sure. Thanks Collins."

She had barely hung up the phone when Roger entered. He was tucking his box of cigarettes into his back pocket, then his eyes found her. He looked at the phone, the letter in her hands.

"Everything alright?"

"Fine." Her voice was clipped.

"I heard you talking to someone."

"Just Collins. He asked to talk to Mark but I told him he was out," She lied. "He was just saying hi. It was nothing important."

"Oh. Alright." He was still staring at the letter. She folded it, pushed it into her jeans back pocket.

"What's that?"

"A letter."

"No shit, Maureen. From who? Lemme see it."

She moved away when he came towards her, turning her face away. She needed to compose herself.

Think fast Maureen, what do you say? What do you do? What do you say?

Maureen wasn't an aspiring actress for no reason. She had talent. She turned to him with her pasted on smile.

"I already read it Roger. It's from the clinic."

"And?" His face was tense, concern and guilt and fear etched into it.

Maureen knew that Roger would be unable to bear it if he knew, so she took his hands in hers and told him the "good news".

"Negative?" He repeated, disbelief on his face. A grin was tugging the corners of his mouth, but he needed the confirmation before he'd allow himself to smile.

"You heard me: Negative." And she smiled brightly at him before wrapping her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her, one hand at the small of her back, the other clutching her head against his chest.

"I can't believe it, oh God, Maureen, I'm so glad. I…" He swallowed, voice getting caught. "I wouldn't know what to do if you were positive."

Christ, how she wished it were true. "Yeah, me neither."

They were still softly embracing when Mark opened the door.

"Rog- oh hey, you two." He looked between them as Roger quickly moved away from her. Maureen missed his arms already.

"Hey, Mark! Man, sorry I was a jerk before you left- how'd your date go?" Roger was trying to draw his attention away from what he'd walked in on. Mark fell for it though, protesting.

"It was really nice, we- it wasn't a date, I already told you!"

"Sure it wasn't, sure Mark... so how far'd you get?" Roger threw an over exaggerated wink at Maureen, who simply couldn't bring herself to smile or play along with it.

"I'm glad you had a nice time. I'm getting in the shower now. So Mark feel free to tell Roger all those gory details." She tried to joke before retreating from the living room space.

Maureen pulled the letter from her pocket and tore it into tiny pieces, throwing them into the trash. She cried in the shower, quietly so neither one of them would hear her. She sat in the tub after she turned the water off, exhausted with her emotions. Then she remembered- April has killed herself in here. Maureen couldn't get out of the tub fast enough after that, her imagination conjuring up images of a bloody faceless girl in the porcelain tub.

She wrapped the towel around her and knelt, going through the cabinet under the sink. She pulled out her box of hair stuff, bath gel, and soaps, grabbing the little cardboard pregnancy box she'd been ignoring the past week. Maureen gripped it tightly in her hand, reading the dumb directions on the back before sitting down on the toilet, placing it between her legs.

As she waited the obligatory two minutes for it to dry, Maureen realized- she already knew the results. Still, the little plus sign was necessary to verify her pregnancy.

She lifted the plastic stick to eye level and with a grim sigh, stared down the unforgiving, unchanging, unmistakable positive symbol.

Oh shit.