Hello! :) I felt like writing Mark angst, so this popped into my mind. Enjoy and review!
p.s. I don't own Rent obviously, so don't sue me :/
p.s.s. This is part one of a twoshot!
How did I get here? How the hell?
We never thought we'd be here...
Correction: I never thought I'd be here.
I never thought I'd sit here, waiting for news of my best friend's miraculous recovery or of his death. We as a group sat there sadly, with Maureen fidgeting, Joanne sighing, Collins wringing out his hands, Benny rubbing his hands together, and Mimi twirling her hair. I was tapping out a random beat with my fingers, trying to keep thoughts of death and pain and punctured lungs and muggings out of my head.
I don't know about anyone else, but I'm regretting every mean thing I said to him (even if they were true), every punch and claw during withdrawal, and any backtalk I gave him as I sit here in the waiting room. I'm also praying to whatever God that's out there to kept my albino safe.
I never realized before how much I loved my best friend before now. I guess that what near-death experiences do to you.
Mark's a constant thing in my life, from being a shoulder to cry on to being annoying when telling me to take my meds. Just the thought of not being able to hear him gripe about me playing Musetta's Waltz all the time is almost inconceivable. I can't imagine life without reminders about my meds or seeing that stupid camera on. I mean, how could I live without something that was always there?
Correction: How could anybody in this group live without our favourite filmmaker?
I know what will—would happen if Mark dies. Our group would fall apart. First Angel, now him? I don't think we could survive that.
I always thought Mimi would die before anyone else in this group would. It's not like I wanted her to die of course...I love her with my whole being. But Mark? The HIV negative filmmaker that could barely hold his own against a girl? Mark, the one to survive after we're all worm chow...Mark of all people...dead? It seems impossible, but a part of me knows that it's a possibility.
How did that all change in 3 hours?
3 hours was all it took for Mark to go from alive to dying. How the hell did that even work? I mean...Fate can't change her mind that often.
But she did, and now he's dying. He was so alive when he went to go filming...
"Morning Rog!" Mark smiled, leaving his room.
Roger smiled at his friend from the couch, where he was tuning his guitar. "Morning to you too. Why are you so happy? Not that I object." Roger asked curiously.
"Nothing." Mark smiled, entering the kitchen. Roger almost never saw Mark this happy. He was only this happy only a couple times before when he first started dating Maureen...
Realization made Roger grin happily, and he began to sing loudly, "Mark came back from his date last night/ And it's probably gonna be awhile before I get paid/ I told him he'd like her, and now I know I'm right/ But hey that doesn't matter because Mark got lai—"
"HEY!" Mark cried from the kitchen. Roger could hear him spit out all the tea he had in his mouth as Roger sang. Roger laughed, and cried out, "I'm just kidding camera boy!"
A couple minutes later Mimi came up, and for awhile the 3 hung out, just laughing and talking (especially about the pretty woman named Nora that Mark slept with earlier). Until of course Mark decided that filming was important too, so he left them with the order he always did:
"Take your AZT."
Roger never thought that those would be one of the last phrases spoken to him by his best fri—brother.
"Hey..."
Everyone looked up to Maureen, the first one to speak in at least half an hour, who was in a plastic chair beside Joanne with tears in her eyes. But she had a small smile on her face, which shocked everyone.
"Remember the time when he was sick with the stomach flu? A couple of weeks after Mimi's recovery?" Everyone in the room nodded, except for Benny of course who wasn't there at the time. Maureen turned to Benny and told him the story softly.
"He was so upset. We all decided to go to this gay fair downtown, and he had to miss it because of his painful stomach flu. Well, we ended up missing it too in the end. We all decided to keep him company, and we all ended up on the floor and in every chair there was in the loft. We just talked and laughed with a sick Mark who was lying on the couch. It was so fun. We all ended falling asleep right there in the living room that night, and the next night we all slept in sleeping bags on the floor. For awhile Mark objected of course, since he didn't want to get us sick. But we stayed firm, and me, Pookie, and Roger ended up getting sick. He was so fucking guilty." Maureen laughed slightly, but it was mostly hollow.
Roger slightly smiled, remembering a whiny and sniffling Mark that still laughed through his illness from everyone's jokes and laughter—
But then the image from how he found Mark only an hour or two ago entered his mind and his blood ran cold...
There was Mark, on the floor. His shirt was covered in blood and he was extremely pale. The blood was gushing out of Mark's chest, and Mark was gasping from his place on the floor—
"I remember one time, when I was totally upset. Work was crap and Roger was at a gig. I was supposed to be there (at his gig), but of course I blew it off because of my mood. Anyone who knows me knows when I'm in one of my moods, not to bother me," Mimi smiled, looking at everyone. They all nodded, slightly smiling too, "Anyway, I remember I ran to my and Roger's room, passing Mark in a huff. I remember him asking what's the matter, but I didn't answer. I just slammed the door in his face. Then, I heard a knock at the door. I yelled at him to leave me alone. But he would not budge until I let him in. When I finally did, he seemed just as upset as I was, and asked sadly, 'What's wrong?' That sent me rambling. I told him how bad my day was and how I was totally pissed off and sad. I even ended up crying. But he held me, and told me everything was going to be alright. And he was going to make sure of it...and that he did. I woke up the next morning to find Roger taking care of a hurt Mark. Mark then told me of how after I fell asleep, he went over to the Cat Scratch to talk to the man that felt me up during my performance and made me so pissed. Mark ended up with many cuts and bruises, a couple of broken fingers and a fractured wrist. But the guy ended up with a broken nose because he ruined my night. That's when I knew Mark would do anything for his friends." Mimi whispered, holding onto my hand for dear life as she told her story, with very little humour. Maureen and Collins were slightly smiling, but the others were just staring into space.
God, if only I had stayed inside with Mimi for once...Roger thought as he remembered the past 3 hours. The day started normally enough...Mark did his usual thing of getting out of the house to film and shortly after he left Mimi and Roger followed to go have lunch at the Life Cafe. When they came back, their whole life changed...
Mimi and Roger were laughing as they bounded up the building they have actually started to call home. They were laughing over something silly the waiter did when they were at the Cafe. They were holding each others' hands as they bound up the steps when...
"What the hell is that?" Mimi asked, pointing to the red stuff on the floor. The red stuff shined in the daylight, and by the looks of it, it was sticky. Roger frowned at it, but refused to touch it. "I have no clue Meems...But it's leading upstairs." Roger whispered, following the red trail with his eyes. He was right; it was heading up the stairs and it didn't look like it would be stopping.
Slightly freaked out, the lovers walked up the stairs, now silent, and followed the trail. In some places, the trail was accompanied by handprints, and even some footprints. When the trail didn't stop at the stairwell that led to Mimi's apartment, they started to panic. Mimi and Roger walked up the stairs nervously, Mimi clutching Roger's hand so hard that it left marks on his skin. Roger was protectively in front of Mimi of course, ready to either beat the crap out of someone or to sprint down the steps. When they got to the top of the stairs, they were relieved yet shocked that the trail kept going up, up, up...up to Mark and Roger's apartment.
"Meems, maybe you should stay in your apartment." Roger whispered, giving Mimi's hand a reassuring squeeze. Mimi was more than happy to oblige and she quickly went into her apartment. With a click her door was locked, and Roger hesitantly walked up the flight of stairs and therefore followed the red trail.
Roger walked up slowly, wondering what the hell was going on. He wasn't going to kid himself; he couldn't even think of anything that could be up in his apartment that would trail red goo. As he walked up the stairs, he found himself trembling slightly, and he cursed himself for doing so. He couldn't be afraid, he couldn't be trembling. He had to be strong and he had to be willing to do something if he had to.
The stairs seemed to take forever, but Roger had finally reached the last couple of steps. As he walked up, he realized that there was more and more red stuff on the floor now. So much it could practically touch his shoes. Roger gulped and kept walking up.
When he had reached the final step on which he could see his front door, he could see that his front door was open, and a small noise was coming from inside. The noise sounded like gasping and small gurgles, but he couldn't be sure. The redness was splattered all over the ground now, and a couple of red handprints covered the wall on the left of him. The ground had a few footprints leading up to apartment, and there was a puddle of the red just inside the door of the apartment.
Roger couldn't take it anymore. Instead of walking slowly and thinking rationally, he practically sprinted to the door, and threw it open almost violently. What he saw on the other side was an image that would never leave his mind for the rest of his life...
"He always would do whatever he could for his friends. When I first met the group, I knew no one except for Mark and Maureen," Joanne started, staring into space as she remembered, "God I was so nervous! I was never good at making friends...but despite the fact that I was Maureen's new girlfriend, Mark still found it in him to be a good person. He was the one who introduced me to everyone while Maureen was asking everyone how they liked her protest. He was the one who told me who I'd like and who I could probably start up a conversation with. As he dragged me around the Life Cafe introducing me to people I asked, 'Why are you doing this for me?' because from what I heard of we should be mortal enemies..." Everyone chuckled softly, except for me who was not really paying attention (all my attention was on the blue-eyed filmmaker in the emergency room), "Do you know what he told me? 'Because, if we pushed Maureen from both of our minds, we have the potential to be good friends.' That's exactly what he said. I was in shock of course, but he didn't let me recover for too long before dragging me around some more. He was so persistent." Joanne laughed, but like most of the laughs from that night, it was hollow.
There was Mark, on the floor. His shirt was covered in blood—Roger realized in shock that the red stuff in the hallway was in fact Mark's blood—and he was extremely pale. The blood was gushing out of Mark's chest, and Mark was gasping from his place on the floor—
"That boy got—gets guilty so easily. But do you know something else comes to him easily? Laughter. He loves to laugh. I remember once it was just me and him, hanging out, doing nothing except smoking a joint on the roof, and we just laughed nonstop. Now don't make fun of us, but we were exchanging embarrassing stories like a couple of teenage girls, " the group laughed softly at Collins' confession, "We had a blast though. We couldn't have had a funnier time. My stories (as usual) were outrageous, and his were flat out funny sometimes. But we had such a good time." Collins said, telling the story with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face. I found that I couldn't smile...not with the memory from merely hours ago still in my head
Roger ran over to Mark, and knelt next to him. Roger could feel Mark's warm blood seeping into his jeans, but it didn't matter. "Mark. Mark!" Roger cried, slightly shaking Mark from his place on the floor. Mark's eyes opened a little, and a small grin spread on his face. Mark lifted his pale, shaking hand, and placed it on Roger's hand, which was trying to stop the bleeding. Roger started to sob and he knew he couldn't do this on his own.
"Mimi! Get the FUCK up here!" Roger screamed, trying to be as loud as possible, which was hard because of the tears. Within seconds Mimi was bounding up the steps, and when she entered the room she gasped and put her hand to her mouth to hold in her scream.
"Meems, I need you to call an ambulance." Roger sobbed. All Mimi did was sob and stare.
"Mimi!" Roger suddenly yelled, and Mimi jumped. "B-But we can't afford one." Mimi sobbed, but she still inched towards the phone.
"I don't fucking care! Please baby, call an ambulance." Roger cried, still trying to stop the bleeding. By now Mark was out cold, yet his grin remained in place. His breathing was shaky, and some blood started to drip from his mouth. "Fuck!" Roger sobbed, trying to wipe the blood away as he held onto Mark.
He could hear in the background Mimi calling an ambulance, but didn't pay attention. All that mattered was stopping the bleeding, or at least slowing it down—
"Roger, you okay baby?"
I blinked furiously, and realized slowly that it was Mimi who was speaking and almost everyone was looking at me.
"What is it?" I asked, sort of thankful they saved me from the memory.
"We've been calling your name for a couple minutes honey. We wanted to know if you wanted to go home because Maureen, Joanne, Benny and I are going home to sleep..."
Oh...I look down, and only realize now that my clothes are still covered in Mark's blood...I suddenly feel very dirty...as if this was the blood of a child or a saint. It shouldn't be on me, but I can't leave. I could go home and change then come back, but how about if Mark wakes up? Or worse, if he wakes up and then dies? And I wasn't there? It'd kill me. I can't leave...I tell her just that.
"Okay...just go to the bathroom honey to clean yourself off. Please. Collins can sit and wait to see if a doctor comes while you get cleaned up." Mimi whispered, kissing my forehead.
I merely nodded, and rub her arm. She sighs and before I know it she's gone along with most the group. The only person left with me is Collins, who's closing his eyes and snoring softly. Leaving me alone with my thoughts...
TBC...