Authors Note: First Fanfiction Alert. Please read. This is just the first chapter and is only part of the main plot. The Roger/Mark thing is strictly friendship and them working stuff out. Mainly it is about Mark and his love intrest.

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT. Sadly.

He hadn't been able to look at him lately. A passing glance here and there, courteous words and acknowledgements sure, but he hadn't truly looked at him for the past month. Avoidance was the one strategy Mark hadn't tried after April. He did everything in his power to help in that time which seemed so long ago. In reality it was only two and a half years ago. But somehow, this was worse. If he looked straight on into his fading green eyes, he would see what he feared. The already deteriorating health looking worse and worse. It wasn't the virus that was getting to him. It was something deeper inside. A piece of Roger was missing. The little hope that he had was gone.

That was what she was. A moving picture blazing with spirit for him to watch and live vicariously through. If she could live like this, who would dare tell him that he couldn't. Her fire renewed him in a way no one else could. Not April, Not Mark.

But that part of his life was over. Mark feared to look into the pale, unrecognizable shadow that his best friend had become. There was only one constant left for him. A companion that was unfailing. His camera. The film in his camera seemed to run itself out. Burning away like time. He filmed everything there was to film. The consistency was what drew him to it. No matter where he was, through that prophetic lens it was still the same view. The view that he had had before Roger got AIDS, before Maureen met Joanne. It was a relief reeling him back to the past.

That was the only way he could look at Roger at all. Through the camera. It was a shield. He would film him in moments where he could go unnoticed. Rogers hair looked brittle and skin loose. Vacant gazes were cemented on his face. Smiles were a rare gift. Music, unknown. It ever existing in the cold and empty loft was unbelievable to Mark.

He could never tell him what he thought though. That he was wasting precious time sulking. He should listen to what Mimi had told him, to what Life Support had told him. Mimi would have wanted him to live. Mark knew that if Roger would go back to life support there was a chance he could move on. He needed the group behind him. He hoped every time Collins called that Roger would go to the phone. More than anything, Mark wanted to help.

Mark fumbled with his camera as he walked worriedly down the dingy sidewalk. He grew more anxious with every step. He prayed that when he returned to the loft a boyishly grinning Roger would great him animatedly telling him about the song he just wrote. He knew this was an ignorant hope.

As he turned the key reluctantly, preferring the fantasy he had built in his mind, reality sunk in. The dismal air weighed him down. Roger was sitting on the couch eating a poptart senseless and emotionless. It was a sad, pathetic sight. Mark broke the silence

"Hey Rog"

"Hi" he murmured.

"So...",Mark hesitated, "What are you doing tonight?"

He set down his food and looked up at Mark weakly. Mark saw what he had been dreading. The deathlike void in his eyes. He couldn't look at him any longer. He needed to get out.

"Ok, well see ya" he turned and walked to his room quickly.

"Wait" Rogers voice said dimly.

Mark turned around slightly shocked by Rogers want for him to stay. "Yeah, Roger?" he questioned gently.

He stared at Mark. "Collins called a little while ago. Paul died"

Mark stood mindlessly unsure of what to say. How was he supposed to respond? Paul had been the backbone of Life Support. He was beyond human to all of them. The possibility that this superman could die made the prospect of AIDS become if possible more real.

"Oh..." he responded. He silently kicked himself for the idiotic response

"They want Collins to take over life support."

In spite of the situation, he couldn't help but feel a small amount of happiness. This would be good for Collins. It had been over a year since the death of Angel. Collins motivation and energy had been passing more each day. As if each day took a lot out of him. Collins having something to wake up for would be good for him.

Mark decided as long as they were talking about it, now would be a good time to bring it up. He decided to say it fast.

"Roger, I think you should go" he stated firmly.

Rogers eyes showed the first emotion Mark had seen. Anger flashed "Are you kidding me, Mark?"

"Well.." Mark was slightly defeated "It's just that with Collins and..."

"No" he said defiantly. His anger was rising.

Mark couldn't take it anymore. He was trying to help. Roger needed to let him "Damn it Roger! You can't do this again! You need to..."

Roger pushed himself of the couch, "Don't you dare say that I need to move on." he spoke in a gravely whisper, "Who the hell are you to tell me what I need to do. You have no idea what the hell you are talking about. You don't get it, Mark. You've never been in love. You've never loved anything like I loved her. So don't go preaching on something you couldn't even possibly understand. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do" He stormed into his room.

If this had happened last month, Mark would have followed him and given him hell for the shit he had just pulled. But he couldn't. He didn't want to upset him even more. Mark looked up at the clock. If Roger wasn't going to go to Life Support, he was.

Authors Note: So...like it? hate it? comment please!