His hand is on the doorknob and..he takes it off, then his hand is back on it.

Its a vicious cycle of on and off, as Roger desperately tries to decide wether he should go into Mark's room or not.

Joanne had told him that if he did this it would give him a sense of closure..but it feels wrong, it feels wrong because he'd be going in there uninvited, that was Mark's private space, the only space he had, and for Roger to go in there without his best friend's knowledge, to go through his personal belongings would be wrong of him.

And yet..there is a certain desire for him to do it, because he never thought it would end this way. Everyone always thought Mark would be the one to survive..Roger always thought..

It wasn't fair, Mark was so kind, Mark was a good person..Roger can only stare at the door as it mocks him, it says,

'It was supposed to be you,' and 'Why don't you save yourself the trouble and end it now' Roger can only shake his head and clench his fists in anger.

Mark is dead, his funeral was over a week ago and he still can't get the sight of that casket out of his mind.

His best friend is gone, he'll never hear that annoyingly chiper and professional voice of his as he filmed their everyday lives, he would never hear him say,

"Tell the people at home what you're doing, Roger."

Or "Take your AZT, " was it even worth it? No..even if he did stop taking his AZT he's fairly certain that Mark would come back from the dead just to haunt him until he took it again.

That thought alone makes Roger smile a little, then he feels his heart ach painfully and the thought of Mark's smile..and another thing Mark used to say to him..

The phone rings.

Roger considers letting the machine get it, but something is eating at him, telling him to pick it up, so he does what Roger does. He goes with his gut, he walks away from Mark's bedroom door and walks over to the phone.

Picking up the phone, at first he hears nothing, until..

"Roger..?" Came the tearful voice on the other end.

Roger sighed, closing his eyes briefly.

"Hello Mrs. Cohen.." there was a pause before Roger heard a quiet sob, "I miss him so much, Rogey."

Tracy Cohen, Mark's mother. Roger had seen her, along with Mark's father at the funeral, Roger always liked Tracy, she was always so kind to him, although a little overbearing at times. Tracy reminded Roger of Mark, she was sweet, goofy, and a good sport at practically anything, when the service was over Mrs. Cohen had given him a tight hug and told him that he could call anytime he wanted, Roger had told her the same and that had been the end of that.

"I know..I do too."

She sniffled. "I just..I was going through his old pictures and he..I.." The woman was starting to become distraught, Roger felt very anxious he needed to get her to calm down

"Tracy!"

"..Yes?"

Roger had to think fast, "Um..I know its a long drive but would you like to come down for a visit? It may make you feel better."

There was another pause and then she spoke, "Yeah. Okay, I think that would be good for the both of us."

"So, I'll see you soon?" Roger asked,

"Yeah."

They said their goodbye's and Roger hung up.

He actually wants to talk with Tracy, maybe she can help him desiper these emotions he's been having. He feels exhausted, maybe if he slept for awhile he would feel rejuvenated.

Roger starts to head to his bedroom when he notices..

Mark's scarf and camera are sitting on the couch..how did they get there? They weren't there this morning. If he remembers correctly Mark took both his scarf and camera with him on the day of the accident..

Mark's mother had these items, he remembers when they discussed it, because Roger was worried about their whereabouts, Tracy had reassured him that she had them..why were they in his apartment?

Roger shook his head, muttering the word, 'no' to himself over and over.

He was just hallucinating, he reasoned. Taking a deep breath he headed to his bedroom, hoping to forgot seeing Mark's most precious items and to get some much needed sleep.

A few hours later, Roger is roused from his sleep when he hears someone knocking on the door, getting up he made his way over to open the door.

Standing there was Tracy Cohen, looking just as, if not more, haggered than himself.

Roger offered a small smile.

"Hey, Tracy.."

She smiled, walking closer she wrapped him in a hug.

"How're doing, sweety?" She sounded much better than on the phone.

She broke the hug and Roger shrugged.

"Alright, I guess."

She simply nodded and they moved towards the couch to talk when Tracy noticed the items that had never left their place since Roger took his nap. Still on the sofa.

"Roger.." She says astoundedly, Roger's eyes widen, reailzing she can see them too.

"I..they were just sitting there today. I don't know how they got there," he explained, Tracy nodded.

"I..they went missing from his room today..I thought somebody.." She trailed off, seemingly in thought.

The universe was cruel, he decided, it had only been two weeks since that car hit Mark while he was on his way to work on his bike.

It had only been a week since his funeral..

Since the realization that Roger Davis had lost Mark Cohen, his best friend..

And now..here appeared the very things that seemed to literally scream 'Mark!' were sitting on their-his couch...

Like he was still here..

Tracy and Roger sat down, on the far end away from the scarf and camera, the thought of either of them removing them gave Roger and Tracy both a terrible taste in their mouths.

Roger finds himself glancing at the camera, he smiles, a fond memory playing in his mind.

Mrs. Cohen notices, and smiles.

"What is it, Roger?" Roger laughed,

"I was just remembering something. Once he was filming me and he started nagging me about taking my AZT and I had told him to leave me alone, he said no, and then we ended up arguing until.." Roger paused shortly, laughing.

"Long story short, your son knows how to threaten somebody." Tracy laughed,

"Everything he did for you Roger, was because he loved and cared for you."

Roger's smile was gone in an instant, instead he glanced down at his hands.

"Yeah.."

Roger had always thought that he would go first, but no that had been Angel.

Then he thought he was going to be the second, that..that had been Mimi, his heart still aches painfully from even a thought of her, but he tried desperately to move on.

Then he prayed to be the next to go, Collins had joined Angel in heaven on October 31st, 1993, it was appropriate he'd figured.

He was the only one left then, so he just knew he would go next, he had to be!

Then, Mark Cohen, on December 24th, 1994, was hit head on by a truck while he was driving to work, on his bike.

The world lost its greatest filmmaker that ever lived, and Roger was certain there would never be another one like him.

"Did you love him, Roger?" Tracy asked, a certain understanding in her voice.

Roger took no time with his answer. "Too much," she only smiled.

"Whenever he called he always talked about you, that's why I was so surprised when he said he was dating a girl named Maureen."

Tracy laughed, Roger was relieved to see her eyes light up..just like his..

They talked for a few hours before Tracy decided that she needed to go home, Roger had suggested that she take Mark's scarf and camera with her but she declined, saying that they knew where their 'home' was.

And with that in mind, Mark's mother left the apartment.

His home is empty once more, and Roger considers going into Mark's room again but..then all he can think of is Mark's last words to him as he was heading out of the apartment that morning.

Just before heading out the door Mark had walked into his bedroom, kissing him on the cheek as Roger laid in bed.

He remembers a calm joy spreading through his chest, as Mark continued to press soft kisses all over his face, Mark's own special way of waking Roger up. Roger's contagious smile going across his face as the sweet pecks continued.

"Rog, I gotta go." Mark spoke softly at first, shaking Roger gently.

Roger had merely groaned in annoyance.

"No," he had muttered, eyes still closed even though he was clearly awake.

Mark had laughed..that laugh he would never hear again.

"Okay, but you won't get a goodbye kiss." He teased, running out of Roger's room.

Roger smiles to himself as he remembers racing out of his room and catching Mark, wrapping his arms around his middle, while Mark barked with laughter, Roger pulled him closer, Mark's back to Roger's chest.

Mark turned around in his arms and grinned.

"Do you think you deserve a goodbye kiss, front man?" Roger raised an eyebrow at his question.

"What'd you think?" Mark smiled sweetly, Roger brought his head down and they kissed, he placed his hands on either side of Mark's cheeks, Mark returned the affection by repeating Roger's actions.

As they broke the embrace Mark picked up his camera bag and slung it over his shoulder, walking towards the door he turned around.

"I love you," Roger only looked at him,

"I love you, too. Be careful."

Mark chuckled,

"Aren't I always?" Roger gave him a stern look.

"I'll be fine, Roger."

That had been the last time he had ever seen Mark Cohen. Roger is suddenly brought back to cold reailty in his empty loft. He looks at the door again, but he doesn't move, doesn't even think of opening it.

Because Roger doesn't need closure, all he know is that he loved..loves Mark Cohen, and Mark Cohen loves him, the scarf and camera still sitting on his couch are a reminder of that.

He only smiles softly, before grabbing his jacket off the window seat, he heads to the front door, he stops and turns around.

"I love you too, Mark. I'll be careful." He pauses, grinning and opening the door.

"And yes, I took my AZT today." Then he's gone, thinking a drink with Maureen and Joanne couldn't hurt.

Author's note: I don't know Mark's mother's real name, so I just chose Tracy. This was just a simple 'what if' scenario since Mark is the one to survive supposedly, I just wanted to play with the idea of him not being the one of them left alive. Which saddens me to think about since I love his character so much. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed.