Where he was staying? But he was staying with him. Just as he had since he'd gotten out of rehab. All Roger's words did was confuse Mark further. But he was too shell-shocked to argue and gamely, he followed along behind him, crossing a few streets and ending up at an apartment complex far different from their own. Somehow, instinctively, Mark knew Mimi didn't live on the floor above them in this one. Them? Who was he kidding, he didn't live there at all!
He took the offered seat, shrugging out of the suit jacket that had become impossibly warm. It was odd, seeing Roger doing something so domestic. Taking care of him, making tea, acting the protector role in more than a physical sense. That was Mark's job. But he knew he wouldn't be protecting anyone, not just then. Instead, he simply accepted the tea and listened, not drinking but rather looking down into the cup.
Mark wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction was supposed to be to Roger's speech. Shock, perhaps. Or maybe amazement. But he simply lifted his eyebrows, looking over at the songwriter with a bit of worry in his eyes. "Roger, you haven't... I mean, that is to say... You're not..." He coughed a bit, clearing his throat. "You're not using again, are you?"
Which was horrible to even consider but really, he had been through an awful lot lately. Mimi falling apart and them losing Angel and all. Having to watch their friend deteriorate knowing that there was a chance someday it would be him. Even the strongest might turn a bit weak through all of that, and Mark wouldn't blame him. They'd get help, again, and keep moving, just as they always had.