A/N: So this is my first ever slash fic...I really like reading Mark/Roger, so I figured I would give it a try with the RENT genre - one of the ones I'm most familiar with. This is a songfic to the Les Miserables song "I Dreamed A Dream." The lyrics sort of fit the story (though in a very different way than they are used in Les Miz itself). So enjoy!
-Regular font is current day, bold and italics are the song lyrics, and plain italics are flash-backs.
-Rated T for some sexual references. And obviously for slash. Just so you know.
Disclaimer: I don't own it!!
I Dreamed A Dream
Cold rain pelts from the sky, mixing with the warm tears streaking down my face. My heart seizes up, trying to pull its way free of my chest. For a moment there is the wondrous thought that maybe I'll die today and the pain will be gone. But that would be too kind, too easy an escape. My destiny, after all, is to live on for those who can't.
Closing my eyes, I try to imagine that the last month never happened…
I dreamed a dream in time gone by,
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die,
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid,
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid,
No song unsung, no wine, untasted
I crouched over him, hugged him, cradled his broken spirit in my arms as he sobbed.
"Sh-sh-she's gone! I-I can't believe she's gone!"
"I know," I whispered soothingly. "I know. It's gonna be okay." My eyes flickered briefly to the note abandoned on the table.
"Doesn't she know how I feel? Does she even care?" he wailed.
"How could she leave?" I murmured to myself. How could she leave us like this, with Collins dead and life as we knew it crumbling away beneath our fingertips? Only a note: 'Dear Roger: I'm sorry to leave like this, without any real explanation. I love you, but I can't stay anymore. Don't look for me, please. I'll be okay. -Mimi'
"Now there isn't anyone left but me…" he said softly. I pulled him into a sitting position.
"I'm here," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes searched my face desperately for some shred of comfort. Then he pulled me closer. I thought he meant to whisper something into my ear, but instead his lips brushed mine. I stiffened, surprised; but then my instincts took over and I shaped my lips around his.
Mimi was forgotten.
"Mark, the service is over."
My thoughts pull away from the past as I blink and realize everyone has gotten up and is making their way out the church doors.
Maureen and Joanne peer at me anxiously, their hands like anchors on mine.
I sigh heavily and pull out of Joanne's grip, wiping my face.
"Okay," I whisper. Even though it isn't.
But the tigers come at night,
With their voices soft as thunder,
As they tear your hope apart,
And they turn your dream to shame
He slept a summer by my side,
He filled my days with endless wonder...
He took my childhood in his stride,
But he was gone when autumn came!
"You're such a baby, Mark," Roger laughed, hugging me close.
I leaned into his strong chest. "That's because I never got the chance to grow up," I mumbled. "And you love me anyway."
He laughed again, and the sound sent vibrations through me. "Do I?" he teased.
I peered up at him. "Unless we've been lying to each other for the past several weeks…" I yawned and stretched. "If so, it's been wonderful having you in bed with me. And…you could get a little closer, you know."
"Oh?" His legs snaked under the sheets, wrapping around mine as he pressed his warm body against me. "Like this?"
I shivered in pleasure and twisted to kiss him firmly. Then I smirked. "Hey…Roger…today's not a High Holy Day, is it?"
--
I began to wake up often to find his space in the bed bare and hear his retching in the bathroom. His skin turned pasty pale and he coughed constantly. I refused to believe he was dying, even though the truth was right in front of me.
When we took him to the hospital, I pretended it was all a game. That he would soon get better and we'd go back to the way things were. But I had to face the truth eventually.
"But Roger…we barely had any time together," I begged him.
He smiled faintly. "Yeah, I know. It sucks. But-" (cough, cough) "-you'll be all right. You have to keep-" (cough, cough) "- living, with or without me, okay?"
"Yeah," I whispered.
He shuddered suddenly, turning away from me and shivering under his blanket. I was at his side in an instant, wrapping my arms around him as he shook, fighting back the tears building in my throat.
"I hate the fall…" Roger moaned.
"I do, too," I whispered.
He died two weeks into October. A summer together, and then by September he was dying. In October, he was gone.
And still I dream he'll come to me,
That we will live the years together,
But there are dreams that cannot be,
And there are storms we cannot weather!
I gaze upon the coffin, willing it to open, willing Roger to step out and into my arms.
"Okay, Roger, you win," I murmur.
"Hm?" Maureen asks me distractedly, her red eyes also fixed on the final resting place of our dead friend. She seems to need my support more than I need hers; for once, Joanne does not protest our close proximity - she has taken hold of my other hand again as the tears trickle down her face.
I swallow and step forward, leaving the safety of my friends' hold. Carefully, I reach into my pocket and pull out a small roll of film, tossing it on top of the coffin.
He wrote me a song, shortly after we got together. It didn't take very long; he called me his muse and admitted the song was mediocre; but I loved it.
I have the sheet music and Roger's guitar. So now I am leaving Roger a tribute. A special film I made for him. He never got to see it. But now he can keep it forever.
I step back from the grave and take a deep breath.
"Goodbye, love."
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living,
So different now from what it seemed...
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed...
A/N: So...review!