Finally, another songfic! Whoohoo! This is featuring Mark and Roger and is set to the song Paperweight by Joshua Radin and Schuyler Fisk.
Paperweight
Been up all night staring at you, wondering what's on your mind. I've been this way with so many before but this feels like the first time.
It was a little after five in the morning and Mark hadn't been to sleep yet. He'd been keeping watch over Roger in his hospital since earlier the past afternoon. He'd done the same thing with Angel, Mimi, and Collins and one would think he'd be desensitized by now. But this was Roger, and the pain was fresh.
You want the sunrise, go back to bed. I wanna make you love.
If the filmmaker could have had one wish at that moment, it would have been that he could climb in the bed with his dying friend and kiss all his sadness away. He'd wishing that all night.
Mess up my bed with me. Kick off the covers, I'm waiting. Every word you say I think I should write down. Don't wanna forget come daylight.
Roger opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was his best friend. "Mark." He whispered. "Mark I…" he trailed off and shook his head. "You should and sleep."
Happy to lay here, just happy to be here. I'm happy to know you. Play me a song, your newest one. Please leave your taste on my tongue.
Mark forced a grin onto his face and leaned over to kiss his friend and lover on the mouth. "I'm fine." He replied. "Sing something for me?"
Roger stared into the ice blue eyes that were dry for the moment. He cleared his throat after a second. "Paperweight on my back, cover me like a blanket." He sang. "Mess up my bed with me. Kick off the covers I'm waiting."
Mark obliged and got into the hospital bed with Roger, careful to mind the tubes he was connected to.
Every word you say, I think I should write down. Don't wanna forget come daylight.
Mark closed his eyes, concentrating on remembering everything from this moment. Roger searched his face, wondering what was running through his lover's head.
And no need to worry, that's wasting time. And no need to wonder what's been on my mind. It's you, it's you, it's you. Every word you say I think I should write down. Don't wanna forget come daylight.
"Go home Mark." Roger whispered. "Please. Let me save you for once. Please."
I give up, I let you win. You win cause I'm not counting.
The filmmaker stood in the doorway of the hospital room, listening to the ever slowing beep of Roger's heart monitor. As it finally flat lined, Mark looked through his tears at the smile that curved across Roger Davis's forever still face. He stared for a moment more, and then closed the door.
You made it back to sleep again. Wonder what you're dreaming.