Wow, I never thought there'd be a chapter two of this. Really. It was just Influenza. But people wanted more, and who am I to turn down my sparse readers?

If anyone knows Fullmetal Alchemist, I just thought I'd mention that Mark is really reminding me of Ed for some reason... If you don't, don't worry about it.

I don't own RENT, unfortunately; that honor goes to the late, great Jonathan Larson.

Enjoy!

Or don't!

~Inky

As time went on, Roger's condition rapidly deteriorated. By New Years' he could barely stand, and the only thing he could keep down was water.

Collins and I took care of him as best we could, but we both knew that all we could really do was make him as comfortable as possible until he finally "croaked," using his words. We all tried to make jokes, but seeing him like that was hard...

"Damn it, why now?" Mark yelled, slamming his fist on the table, and ignoring the pain it brought.

It was four days after New Years'. Roger had finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Collins looked up from the cup of coffee that he'd been absently staring into. "It's not like it's anyone's fault, Mark."

"I know, I know..." Mark said, running a hand through his hair. "It's just..." he trailed off, unable to articulate his thoughts.

"I know," Collins said quietly. "It's as if... even though we knew it would happen sometime, it never really sunk in. We never though that it really would happen."

"Right," Mark sighed, sliding into the seat next to him, across from Collins. He rested his head in his hands. "It's like... I've known him for so long, known he had it, known it would come to this, and yet... I didn't know. Not deep down."

Collins studied Mark carefully. "You know, I'm gonna be next, right?" he said softly.

"Sometimes I wish I'd just get it, too," Mark mumbled. "Then I'd just die along with the rest of you. It's not like I'll have any reason to stick around after watching all my friends die around me."

"Huh," Collins uttered distractedly, not really having much to say to that.

"Maybe that's how it's gonna go," Mark mused. "Maybe, once you're gone, I'll just fade away, my purpose for living completely gone." He rested his head on the table, obviously exhausted.

"Get some sleep, Mark," Collins said gently. "I'm sure I can handle a few hours."

Mark sighed and shoved off from the table, standing for a second before he finally decided sleep would be a good idea.

"Wake me if..." he trailed off, unable to finish.

"I'll wake you if anything changes, good or bad." Collins understood his meaning.

"Alright..." Mark trudged into his own room and flopped onto the bed, fully clothed. He almost instantly fell asleep.

There ye's go, another chapter. Albeit a very short one. Nothing that big happens, just introducing in another of my favorite Bohos. Because Mark can't do this alone. It would not be fair. :P

As for where the plot is going next... I have no clue. :P I only did a continuation because people wanted it, so I turn to you, my readers! What do you think should happen next? Besides Roger dying...

Peace it,

~Inky