Author's Note: Grab a box of tissues. Okay last chapter here folks, enjoy--also keep an eye out for my next story which is called Meant To Be, should be coming either this weekend or Monday sometime. Already five chapters into it and going strong. It's not affliated with this stroy whatsoever, but it's a happier story :) Also Markcentric.

Chapter Eight
Six Months Later

It had all begun with a sore throat, that quickly blew up into what could only be described as a full fledge flu, sending Mark to the hospital for nearly five days. He'd stayed relatively healthy and safe since his death sentence.

He'd let it start as a cold and continue to mount as a soon to be deadly virus that wouldn't go away. He'd spent four days at home that he should have been in the hospital. Roger was by his side the entire time. Wiping his sweat covered brow, talking to him, trying to keep food and water in the dehydrated man's stomach.

Their other friends popped in and out constantly, helping care for the dying filmmaker, as he slowly began to slip from their grasps. It wasn't until Roger felt the fever ravish his friend's body that was so high he didn't see it coming down, that he called for an ambulance; landing the blonde friend in the hospital for the next five days.

Even as Mark lay in the hospital bed, his immune system desperately fighting off a simply case of the flu, he knew this was the end. It was nearing midnight, Roger was sitting in a chair next to Mark's bed gripping his best friend's hand; when Mark finally spoke up, "Rog," he murmured. Green eyes met his, "Take me home."

"You're not health—"

"Roger, I'm dying, this is it, I want to go home, please; you promised me," whimpered Mark as he looked at his best friend.

Roger sighed, he'd seen this coming. He remember the promise he'd made to his best friend just over nine months ago. Truth was, Mark had defied all logic as he reached his twenty-fourth birthday less than six weeks ago. No one had thought he'd see another one. Roger had hoped maybe Mark would see man more, but it just wouldn't happen.

"All right Mark, I'll take you home," he whispered softly, knowing this wasn't a battle he'd win in the end.

o0o

It had taken four hours to convince Dr. Beckett to release him, get all the medications and the set up they'd need to take him home, and finally to arrive back at the loft. Roger watched as Collins helped Mark wobble weakly over to the couch, where Mark would live out the final days of his life.

Roger felt his heart constricting, so much he wanted to say; and he had the feeling most of it would be left unsaid. "Carley, you wanna get some soup?"

"Sure," she whispered. It hadn't been an easy road for her either; she'd been around for nine months to watch her brother suffer through a terrible disease.

He scrubbed at his eyes as he made his way over to the couch and sat down beside Mark, "How ya feelin' kid?"

"Like shit, you?" murmured Mark as he rolled on his side and lifted up his head, allowing Roger to slip under him so he could use Roger's thigh as a pillow. It had become a habit for them, Roger had been there every step of the way, helping with the pain, the tears and the fears.

The number of nights the two had spent up all night talking was a testimony to how close the two had become recently. Mark was thankful to have Roger around to help him through the fear he was dealing with.

"Not feeling to good myself. Did you want me to call anyone?"

"Maureen, Jo, Mimi, they should all be here, Benny too," replied Mark as he curled around Roger's leg.

"How's the pain?"

"Sucks, I can handle it," he lied.

"Mark—there's so much I want to tell you," whispered Roger.

"Me too," Mark stopped, unsure what to say, closing his eyes he hoped he'd find the words, instead he drifted off to sleep as Roger continue to run his hand through Mark's soft blonde hair.

o0o

Carley and Collins were fast asleep in their rooms. Maureen, Joanne and Mimi were downstairs in Mimi's apartment; When Roger came into the living room, he saw the projector set up, where'd it been before they'd rushed Mark to the hospital nearly a week ago.

Sighing he flipped it on, curious to see what his friend had been working on. As the screen came alive it struck Roger, that this would be the last film Mark would ever make. He gaped when Mark sat in front of the camera, forcing a weak smile, "Hey Rog—" Roger glanced back down at the sleeping figure on the couch, the back up at the face on the screen. The blue eyes filled with tears before Mark continued, "There's so much to say, and I wish I could tell you everything, but the least I can do is give you this. The past twelve years with you—have been twelve of the best years of my life. I think back on your life only with the fondest memories and the utmost love for you."

Roger felt tears sting his eyes, the filmmaker continued, "I've made a lot of mistakes, and I guess one of the biggest ones, was telling you the truth. When I first met you, you were easily the best friend I'd ever had. I don't have many in the first place. But then it became a brother and hero worship love…now—Roger I feel only comfort when I'm with you, comfort—I guess what I'm saying is…I'm sorry I wasted so much, time but you deserve to know that I love you. Far more than I ever thought possible to love anyone. I should have told you a long time ago, but frankly I think we all assume we'll be here longer than we planned. Anyway, I'm leaving this message to you to tell you—don't lose your faith, I know you'll miss me, but I don't have any doubt that I'll see you again, then we'll be together forever. I'm leaving you all of my possessions but the ones mentioned in the will, most of all I leave you my scarf and the constant reminder to take your AZT. Take care of yourself Roger, and I promise I'll be waiting for you."

Roger felt tears coursing down his face, he turned to look down at the frail figure in the couch. "Why?" he sobbed as he lowered his head into his hands. He suddenly felt a hand on his back, turning his rapidly swelling eyes he faced beautiful blue eyes. Eyes he had long since fallen for.

"Because you should know everything," whispered Mark as he reached out.

Roger pulled his best friend into a hug, "God, Mark—I loved you too, so much. I wish we hadn't wasted time. What am I going to do without you?"

It was Mark's turn to hold his best friend as Roger sobbed on his shoulder, unsure how to handle this sudden epiphany. Mark just held fast, his own tears beginning to fall, as he realized this was indeed the end. "I'm dying, I can feel it," whispered Mark as he gripped his best friend.

"I know—"

"No, I mean—Roger, I'm dying now, it hurts," whimpered Mark looking into the green eyes before him.

"COLLINS!" Roger screamed as he grasped Mark close to him. The professor came hurrying out and saw Mark leaning heavily against Roger, gasping for air.

"Carley wake up, I'll go get the girls!" Collins yelled as he hurried down the stairs.

"Please just hold me, I'm cold," whimpered Mark as he gripped Roger through another wave of pain.

Roger hadn't even realized the others, including Benny; were now crowded into the loft, within feet from the couch. Roger spread Mark out, so that he wouldn't be in pain. Slipping behind Mark's back he held tight to the dying man.

Roger shook his head, curled up on the edge of the couch as he clutched Mark close to him, rocking back and for ever so gently. The others were crowded around them. Maureen had tears streaming down her face.

Joanne was shaking her head in denial, Mimi and Collins clutching to each other for support, even Benny had his hands on Carley's shoulders as they all watched Mark slip a little further away.

"Hold on Mark, please right, I should have told you, I love you too," cried Roger as he held the filmmaker close.

"Rog," croaked Mark, turning his blue eyes to Roger's emerald ones. "Love—ya," he whimpered

"There is no future—there is no past," Collins began lightly. Everyone suddenly stared at him.

"There's Only Us," the others continued, as they tried to hold back the sobs that were threatening to fall from their mouths.

There's Only This
Forget Regret Or Life Is Yours To Miss
No Other Road No Other Way
No Day But Today
I Can't Control
My Destiny
I Trust My Soul
My Only Goal
Is Just To Be

Without You
The Hand Gropes
The Ear Hears
The Pulse Beats
Life Goes On
But I'm Gone
Cause I Die
Without You
I Die Without You
I Die Without You

No Day But Today
Will I Lose My Dignity
Will Someone Care
Will I Wake Tomorrow
From This Nightmare
There's Only Now
There's Only Here
Give In To Love
Or Live In Fear
No Other Path
No Other Way
No Day But Today
No Day But Today
No Day But Today
No Day But Today

"I love you, God I love you," cried Roger, pressing his face into the blonde's soft hair.

He felt the last shuddering breath sweep through Mark's body, he felt Mark grip his arm one last time, before his body ceased to move.

"God, no," whimpered Roger as he rocked back and forth, the others watching helpless, "Please—I'm not ready yet," he sobbed.

Maureen turned to Joanne, and the two cried on one another's shoulders, Collins turned Mimi around and held fast to her as she sobbed into his chest. Carley turned against Benny, allowing him to hold her.

"You're not alone now Mark, now you're with Angel," Roger sniffled pressing a kiss to Mark's forehead. "I'll miss you so much—"

o0o

Mark stood in the corner, watching as Roger sobbed, he turned, feeling a hand on his shoulder and offered a short sad smile to Angel, "He'll be okay honey," she whispered as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "They all will be."

"Who's going to hold and care for him at the end now?"

"We'll be there baby, I was here the entire time you went through it all. Come on, let's go home."

"I've missed having you around Angel," Mark whispered as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I've always been here honey."

Mark turned back for a moment, looking at Roger, "I love ya Roger, I'll see you on the other side."

Carley gently took the camera in her hands, and held it close, watching as Roger continued to rock the lifeless form of her brother. She reached out and swiped a tear from her cheeks. He didn't want her to cry, she would give him that. She couldn't deprive him one of his last wishes.

"You'll live on Mark," she whispered as she was pulled closer to Benny.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this was so depressing...however on an up note, I'm going to write more stories that won't be nearly as depressing or death filled. Thank you for reading :)