Tales of the MIT Anarchist

Following this.

1992 -

There was a broken chopstick in his pants pocket. That beyond anything made Collins believe that the previous night hadn't been a hallucination or dream. None of mine have ever been that great before.

He hadn't gotten an address from Angel. He knew he was at Juilliard, but it wasn't likely he could get any information. He could try hacking, but he didn't know that system well enough yet.

Fuck it. Even if I never meet him again......it was worth it.

Worth it to be able to talk--and be heard.

Worth it to hear his laughter, see his smile, and just drink in his presence.

Worth it to feel safe. He was pretty sure that had they spent much more time together, he would know what it was like to be loved. Despite the damned disease, despite his crazy ideas, despite his inability to stay still for very long.

Worth it. Though God knows it won't happen again.

~

1995-1996 -

It hurt seeing April and Roger decend so quickly into addiction, to watch Mark do his best to take care of them. It hurt seeing the burden placed on his friend's shoulders. He did what he could, but their combined best wasn't near enough.

He dropped a rose on April's headstone, fingers tracing her name. It wasn't right to be there and have her gone, Roger in withdrawal, Benny succumbed to the lure of money and power. It wasn't right and though he hated putting even more on Mark's shoulders, he had to go on. He was a wanderer and didn't stay where he couldn't find home.

MIT offered promise.

~

Christmas Eve: 1996 -

"You okay, honey?" The voice was familiar. Collins blinked up at the stranger, a memory almost dancing behind his eyes.

"M'afraid so," he mumbled, not able to look the other man directly in the eyes for long.

I know him.

Where the hell'd I meet him?

Even as he thought the question, he accepted the handkerchief offered and tried cleaning up his face. Their eyes met again, and he found that time he couldn't look away.

He wouldn't look away again. Good things tended to disappear when that happened.

~

Halloween: 1997 -

He hadn't said goodbye. Angel had said see you later.

He'd always been an optimist.

Collins held his drumsticks in his hands, and concentrated on breathing. He'd never had Angel's faith in the universe.

But he'd always have faith in Angel.

They would meet again.

Three years to the day of being mugged and beaten.
How do you stay on your feet when on every street it's trick or treat, and tonight it's trick?
Three years to the day of Angel finding him.
You okay, honey?
The year he'd spent outside of the bar, without him, barely registers in his mind.
I can't believe he's gone....
Instead, he listens to him breathe, sleeping peacefully against him, and raises his hand to his lips.
I do not deserve you, Angel....
"Still awake?" Angel whispers, moving against him.
Live in my house. I'll be your shelter.
"Yeah. Didn't mean to wake you up."
Just pay me back with one thousand kisses...
He feels him smile against his throat. "Did you hear me complaining?"
A new lease you are my love on life....
"Now that you mention it...no. I didn't."
With a thousand sweet kisses I'll cover you...
"And I won't."