Collins awoke slowly, limbs tangled with his lover's. He'd slept deeply and peacefully, surrounded by Angel's love for him, and now he gazed down at her beautiful form, lying naked beside him, head resting on his chest. Angel had chased away his demons, had shown him he didn't need to be ashamed. Now, he wanted the others to know. Wanted to end the charade.

Placing a soft kiss to Angel's temple, Collins gently slipped out from under her, tucking the covers around her as he stood. Moving quietly around the room, he dressed, perching himself lightly on the bed to lace his shoes. As he was about to stand, Collins heard Angel shift, a soft, mewing sound spilling from her lips, and he turned, regarding her as she slept. The blanket had been pushed down to her waist and his breath was once again taken away by her beauty.

"Angel," he whispered, reaching over to run his hand through her short hair. Angel stirred a little, mumbling, "Love you, too, Collins," as she slept, and he smiled, heart soaring that she was dreaming of him.

Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her soft lips. "Angel," he whispered again, a bit louder this time, and she awoke, eyes fluttering. She smiled up at him, "Morning, honey," she said sleepily, and Collins closed the distance between them, kissing her once more.

"I'm going to go over to the loft," he said quietly, running his fingertips along her arm.

Angel sat up quickly, shaking of the haze of sleep and taking his hands in hers. She knew what he meant, without him needing to say it. After last night, she was happy he'd decided to talk to their friends, to tell them the truth.

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked. She wanted to be there for him; knew this was going to be one of the hardest things he had ever done, but if he wanted to go alone, she'd respect that.

Collins smiled, "Yes," he said simply.

Angel kissed him on the cheek, squeezing his hands, before getting up and dressing as swiftly as she could. As she fluttered around the room, Collins watched her absently. Normally, he took great pleasure in watching her dress, but today there was too much on his mind. He wanted his friends to know the truth, but how was he supposed to tell them? Guess what, guys? I was raped. Oh, yeah, that would work. Then he could just casually tell them how they'd been laughing at him all these years while he struggled not to lash out at them. Not likely.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Angel sat beside him on the bed. He wasn't sure if she'd gotten ready in record time, or if he'd been lost in thought for longer than he realized. Either way, she was now ready to go, but Collins had lost some of his earlier conviction. He looked at Angel, a pained expression on his face.

"What am I supposed to say, Angel?"

Angel brought a hand to Collins' face, stroking his cheek lightly. "Don't worry about the words, Collins," she told him, "Just tell them. Say what you feel. There's no right way to do it."

Collins nodded slightly. He was silent for a moment, thinking, then let out a sigh, taking her hand in his and standing.

"Let's go then," he said, feeling his stomach tighten. He swallowed hard as they made their way out of the apartment. Angel's reassuring squeeze of his hand relaxed him a little and he smiled down at her.

Walking in silence, Angel wrapped her arm around Collins' waist, pushing her fingers under the waistband of his jeans and stroking his skin with her thumb. The soothing action helped Collins regain some of his confidence, and he stood a little straighter as he called up to the loft for someone to throw down the key.

Collins looked nervously up at the window to the loft. Before he could move toward the door, Angel had taken his hand and pulled him to her in a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing strength from the simple gesture.

"It'll be okay," she promised, smiling up at him and placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"I'm glad you're here," he told her quietly.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she assured him, taking his hand in hers once more and leading them up to the loft. She looked up at him briefly before sliding the door open.

Mark greeted Collins and Angel at the door. He didn't say anything, but the expression on his face told Collins he was still thinking about the film they'd watched the night before. Shaking his head, Collins walked over to the couch, flopping down onto it as Angel sat beside him.

"Where's Roger?" Collins asked, "I need to talk to you guys."

"I'm right here, Collins," Roger said with a smirk, sitting down in a chair opposite the couple, "What's up?" Roger, too, was clearly thinking about Collins being beat up by a girl, and Collins was beginning to feel somewhat glad that he'd come to tell them. This way, he could end it.

Collins looked to Angel, who smiled at him, nodding and placing her hand on his thigh. He covered it with his, took a deep breath and spoke.

"I wasn't beat up by a girl," he said quickly, not looking at either man. He went to continue, but was interrupted by Roger.

"No way, Collins. Don't think that after five years you can go changing your story!" he laughed loudly, "You were beat up by a girl and we all know it! There's no getting out of it now."

Collins tensed a little, clenching his jaw. He felt Angel's hand running along his leg and tried to let it relax him.

"Roger," Angel said softly, "Please listen to him."

Angel's tone and her serious expression caused the smile to fade from Roger's face. His brow furrowed as he turned his gaze back to Collins, not saying anything, but waiting for him to speak.

"I wasn't beat up by a girl," he repeated, confident in stating that much. His gaze moved from the floor to Angel as he tried to continue. "I was… I was… It…"

Mark leaned forward in his seat, face radiating the concern he felt. He had no idea what Collins was going to say, but looking at him, listening to him stumble, seeing how Angel was comforting him, he could tell it wasn't good.

"What happened, Collins?" he asked, gently.

Collins looked at Mark. "I was… raped." The last word came out as barely a whisper. Once it had passed through his lips, Collins instantly felt his face flush and he tightened his grip on Angel's hand. His eyes darted around the loft, looking for a way out, wanting to be anywhere but there. He couldn't look at anyone - he was afraid of what they were going to say. Afraid of what they'd think of him.

Silence reigned for a long while as Mark and Roger tried to register what Collins had said. Angel pulled him closer to her, and he leaned his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes, wishing he could just disappear.

Finally, Roger spoke. "Collins," he began, "Why didn't you tell us?"

Eyes still closed, Collins answered him quietly, "I just… I was ashamed of myself…"

"Ashamed?" Mark blurted in disbelief, "Collins, there's nothing to be ashamed of. We could have helped you through it. If someone hurt you, you know we'd be there for you."

"Three," Collins said.

"What?"

Collins opened his eyes to look at Mark. "There were three of them. And I was ashamed because I couldn't defend myself. I didn't want you guys to know what had happened. I thought you'd…" he let his voice trail off.

Mark felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as his mind attempted to digest this new bit of information. Three men. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Collins had gone through and it pained him that he'd thought they'd be – what? Disgusted? Disappointed? He didn't know how to respond.

Once again it was Roger who broke the silence. "You thought we'd what Collins? How did you think we'd react? Could it have been any worse than letting us laugh at you for five years?" His voice was raw with emotion, guilt.

Collins shrugged helplessly. "I just didn't want anyone to know. I thought I could make it go away."

Mark stood up and walked over to where the film was still in his projector. He yanked it off roughly, tossing it back into its case and handing it to Collins.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Take it and destroy it if you want. Whatever you want to do. I just…" he ran a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry."

Mark reached out to his friend, wrapping him in a hug, and Collins reveled in it. Even after Angel's reaction, even after talking to her about telling Mark and Roger, a part of him had still believed that they'd be repulsed by him when he told them. But they weren't, and it brought tears to his eyes.

Collins watched as Roger moved to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, but Collins could see all he needed in his eyes.

His friends would always be there for him.