Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson owns these lovely characters. Except for my OC.. who doesn't show up yet :x
A/N: Uh. Nothing really to say for this chapter. Just the way I wanted to see April's death..
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Roger Davis yawned softly as he sat up in the bed he and his girlfriend, April, shared. He groaned as he noticed that his high from the night before had slowly worn off while he slept and as he sat up. He quickly reached under the bed for his stash and blinked a bit when his hands could only find emptyness. He thought for a moment, trying to recall if him and April had used the rest of that stash the previous night, but couldn't remember.
"Hm.. maybe April took my stash this morning.." he thought to himself as he swung his legs over the bed to get up.
He walked out of his room and into the main room of the loft that he shared with April, his best friend Mark Cohen, his girlfriend Maureen Johnson(who seemed to not be around a lot lately.. for some odd reason), their friend Tom Collins(though he had left for MIT), and used to share with Benjamin Coffin III, who left them to marry Alison Grey of the Westport Grey's. Roger snickered under his breath as he thought of his nickname for Alison, Muffy. He pushed the door to his room open and walked over to the couch, sitting down looking over to Mark who was packing up his camera.
"Hey Mark, you see April this morning?" Roger asked the filmmaker.
Mark shook his head as he slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and picked up his camera. "No," he said.
"Where are you going?" was Roger's next question.
Mark blinked as he turned from the door to the loft. "What is this? Twenty-one questions?" Roger flipped him off and Mark sighed. "I'm going to see Maureen and to work on a new project."
Roger could only let a soft laugh out at that response, which Mark seemingly ignored. Roger had noticed that Mark had become very wrapped up in Maureen ever since he started dating her. He could tell there was something off about her, especially when she was at the loft less and less.. when she technically lived there, and told Mark so many times but had finally given up. It was more frustrating to convince him of Maureen being not the right girl for him than it was to find a cheap fix in Alphabet City. With that he stood up and pushed past Mark through the door of the loft into the slightly cold hall.
"If you see April, tell her I'm-" Roger started before being cut off by a tap on the shoulder.
"You're...what?" a feminine voice asked, light, musical, with a hint of laughter.
Roger smiled as he turned around to wrap April in his arms and watch Mark roll his eyes as he made his way down the stairs to leave. He placed a kiss on top of April's head and then remembered he needed to tell her what he was going to do.
"Oh, I was just going to say I was going on the roof," he said. "Care to join me?"
April shook her head and Roger noticed something was different about her, she didn't seem as.. musical and herself as she always was. It was like a part of her died, but like himself, April wasn't one to speak her mind. So he didn't push it, he simply asked one question before heading up to the roof.
"Did you take the little bit of our stash out from underneath the bed this morning? Or did we use that up last night..?" he asked.
"Used it last night," April said as she pulled on the heavy door to the loft. "Geeze Rog, you were really out of it huh?"
Roger laughed a bit and nodded as he turned away and towards the stairs leading up to the roof. "I'll be up there for like an hour, okay?" he said. April nodded.
"I'm gonna take a bath or something, so I'll be out when you come down," she said walking inside. Roger couldn't help but note the dejected, sad tone of her musical voice. But he pushed the thought out of his mind.
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Roger sighed softly as it started to rain about a half hour into his quiet time on the roof. For once, since he started dating April, he actually thought he'd work on a song. Even without his out of tune guitar, and without his notebook filled with doodles and scribbled out song lyrics. Just the quiet of the roof top was enough to at least get some thought going through his head. Sometimes he wondered if the smack was really starting to get to him. He walked down the stairs just he noticed Mark coming up them, Maureen-less. Roger just smirked and Mark glared, but Roger was too quick for the filmmaker.
"No Maureen, huh?" Roger asked, the tone of his voice cocky. "Kinda funny to even say she lives here."
"She's working on a performance," Mark said.
"Sure. A performance. You call it that.. pookie," Roger said, using Maureen's stupid nickname for Mark against him, ducking into the loft and racing away from Mark before he could attempt do to any damage.
Mark just sighed at Roger and went over to work on whatever his new project was, Roger needed to remind himself to ask Mark about that later, and Roger walked into his room noticing that April wasn't around. He walked over to the bathroom, which was connected to both his and Mark's room and knocked on the door. There was silence. Usually April let the water keep running when she took a bath, and just unplug the drain when the tub got too full. He dismissed the thoughts that ran through his head then knocked on the door again, a bit louder this time.
"April? You okay in there..?" he asked, the playful tone that was in his voice slowly fading, turning cold and scared.
No answer. Now Roger was scared. He reached for the doorknob and found it too be locked, knowing the door on Mark's side would be too. Luckily he learned how shitty the door really was and he thrust up on the knob, turning it at the same time which unlocked it and the door swung open.. and Roger suddenly wished it wasn't that easy. All color drained from Roger's face at that point, it was like he was watching something out of a horror movie. April lying in the tub like a rag doll, her right arm hanging over the edge, hand soaked with blood.. a thin red line present on her wrist. Her left wrist held a similar cut, but it was balanced delicately on the rim of the tub and the wall of the bathroom.
"April!" Roger all but screamed, his eyes tearing up as he raced to her side. Mark quickly raced in to the doorway, eyes wide at what he saw. Roger didn't have to turn around to know that he was already there. "Call 911, quick! Please.." He then saw something out of the corner of his eye as his hand searched for a pulse he knew was no longer there. There was a piece of paper perched on the sink. Roger stood up and picked it up, his hands which were covered with April's blood began to stain the paper.
"We've got AIDS"
Roger didn't want to believe what was written on that paper at that point. He didn't want to believe that this disease that April claimed that they had drove her to do this, when she knew they could try and work it it. He did not want to believe that his April. His pillar of strength was so weak. That she was gone. With this newfound strength (or denial, which Roger didn't exactly want to admit to), he was on his knees next to the tub, his hand frantically searching April's neck for a pulse. He did find it, but it was so faint.. barely there. He took her wrists in his hands, gripping them so that what little blood was escaping now would hopefully stop, and he begun to loose it.
"Come on baby.. don't leave me," he whispered to the all but lifeless body. "April.. babe.. we can deal with this. Together... don't leave me.. please God don't leave me alone.."
The words kept coming, quickly becoming jumbled together and lost in between sobs as he heard the sirens outside and Mark rushing into the bathroom to help. It was then Roger snapped back to reality, pushing his body between April and Mark's, jearking his head to the note on the floor. Mark was smart enough not to touch it as he saw the capital letters, eyes widening as he looked to Roger who was still sobbing.. knowing that April had been gone now. He ducked out of the room to the awaiting paramedics. And Roger could hear Mark, even if he was trying to be quiet.. as if not to remind Roger what had taken his love away from him, just in the wrong way.
"She's HIV positive."
Roger quietly stepped aside as the paramedics rushed into the room and began to work on April. The rock star was surprised as they worked, sticking the tube down her throat, he clearly thought she was dead. But apparently she had just that ounce of life left. That last ounce to torture Roger, just to give him that false sense of hope that she was coming back. Soon her breathing would stop, and his world would really come crashing down, and they would take her away. And just that happened. Roger just sunk to the cold tiled floor and slammed his head against it as they took her away. He couldn't bare to go with her, that would make it all too real. Mark didn't leave either though, surprising Roger.. if he was even paying attention that is. He felt Mark kneel beside him, not getting too close, just in case. And he looked at him. Roger just cried.
"She can't be gone.. this can't be happening..." Roger mumbled in between sobs.
Mark just couldn't stand to see Roger like that, and slowly moved closer to him. He wrapped his arms around the broken rock star, in a tight hug that might have meant more to the both of them under different circumstances. But both dismissed it for now, it wasn't the time or the place to be thinking of such things.