I Can't Believe She's Gone
Disclaimer and notes: I obviously didn't come up with the genius idea that is Rent...that would be the late Mr. Larson. This story won 2nd place at speedrent over at Livejournal a while ago. Enjoy.
Collins picked up the phone, his hand shaking as he dialed the number that was scribbled on the scrap of paper. Four long rings sounded, seeming to take an eternity before the familiar voice spoke on the answering machine's message.
"You've reached the home of Benny and Allison Coffin. Please leave a message at the beep."
Even through his mixed, exhausted emotions and the severity of the situation, Collins couldn't help but laugh scornfully at the sheer boringness of that message. Sweeping these thoughts away, he spoke into the receiver. "Benny, hey, it's Collins. I...you need to come over to the loft now, man. It's...it's bad. Please, we need you here – you need to know. Come home, man."
He hung up the phone dismally, looking around the loft in all its depressing loneliness. Mark had finally left, saying numbly that he needed to get out and get a drink, who the hell knew where Maureen had gone to, and Roger...well, Roger was still sobbing in the bathroom, staring at that red-stained bathtub...
Benny was the only person he knew to contact, the first person who needed to know and be here. He might have sold out and married some snotty rich-kid bitch, but he had lived here too and been just as much a part of this family as any of them had; he had a right to know.
He sighed, staring at that goddamn razor glistening silver on the table, angrily wishing that it...it...he didn't even know what he wished about it. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples in submission – at least the knife was out here in plain view, instead of locked in the bathroom with Roger, at least he had made sure of that.
He shook his head, staring miserably at the small trail of blood that refused to come off the floor, aimlessly questioning the air with an expression of utter loss. "April, honey, what were you thinking?"
Benny roughly shook Collins awake from his fitful rest on the couch. "Collins, get up...what'd you need that's so important?"
Collins sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Hey, thanks for coming."
"Don't start thanking me yet," he muttered. "Where's that bastard, anyway? Out shooting up with her again? I hear she's quite the little addict ever since she cheated on me and left me for her pretty-boy junkie. Or are they too busy doing...other things for that now?"
"Benny, stop. This is serious, ok?"
"Oh, and the fact that I came home to see April, my then-girlfriend, fucking my roommate isn't serious?"
"I know it was serious, and you have every right to still be pissed. Just...let it go for five minutes and listen to me."
Benny nodding grudgingly. "Tell me what happened."
Collins cleared his throat nervously. "Well, first of all, this is no one's fault, and don't even imply to Roger that it's his, because there's no way he'd be able to take it right now. In fact, just lay off your neverending bitching at him for a while, ok? There's not too much that he can take, really..."
"I get it, play nicely and don't give Davis what he more than deserves. Just go on and tell me what happened."
Collins looked at Benny and sighed, a tear running down his cheek. He took a deep breath and said, "Benny, it's April. She...she's gone."
Benny stood looking at him, obviously not comprehending his words. "What do you mean, Collins?" he asked slowly. "What do you mean, she's gone?"
"She's dead, Benny," Collins replied, his voice shaky as he angrily wiped away the tears. "She slit her wrists in the bathtub, leaving nothing but a note to Roger saying that they have AIDS."
He nodded, looking numb. "Where's Roger now?"
"He hasn't left the side of the bathtub since they took her body away."
"He killed her," he said softly, a warped wrath spreading over his face. "My God, he killed her..."
"Benny, don't say that..."
"He did! Think about it – there are two major possibilities of how they got AIDS in the first place: either Roger was fucking his fan girls without protection or he shared needles with the wrong person. Either way you look at it..."
"Benny, stop, man. I know that you're probably in shock or something right now, but you can't take it out on Roger, because it's not his fault. I know there's lots of shit between you, but seriously, put it aside for a little while. For April, Benny."
Benny bit his lip, unable to meet the eyes of this man who had been almost a brother for a few years. "Collins, I..." He stopped for a moment, zoning out. "She's really gone, isn't she, Collins?" he breathed softly. "April is gone."
The older man nodded slightly, and Benny gulped. "I...I think I'd better go, Collins. Thanks for telling me...tell me when the funeral is and..."
Collins grabbed him gently by the arm as he headed towards the door. "You gonna be ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," came the automatic reply, which neither of them seemed to believe. "I just...I can't believe she's gone...I mean...I never would have seen it coming..."
"No one did," Collins replied softly. "No one could have anticipated that."
"I guess not," he answered numbly, sounding tired.
Collins looked at him for a second before wrapping his arms around the other man in a brotherly, comforting embrace. Benny pulled away somewhat quickly, swallowing repeatedly to prevent himself from crying. "I just need to be alone, okay? I'll be back by here later to do whatever I can to help...bye."
Benny left the loft quickly, running down the stairs and crumpling down at the foot of the staircase in emotional turmoil. April Erickson, the girl he had loved more than he knew he had the potential to love, the girl who had captured his heart only to break it into a thousand pieces, dead?
He had been infatuated with her, and vice versa, from the moment they met at Brown. Their common interests, his charming personality and her damsel-in-distress demeanor had led to a whirling affair of sorts, a Gone With The Wind-esque romance. He had fallen for her hard and fast, and when they moved in together in New York, he began saving up for her. After working nonstop for over a year, he bought her the ring, and went home to the loft that night to propose, only to find her in her bed, beneath Roger Davis...
But that was past now, all that mattered was the fact that April was dead – she killed herself because she was afraid of living with this virus...all that registered in his mind is that she had left the world, left him without that chance he had always expected to have, that chance to win her back...
Slowly Benny made his way back to his apartment, back to his wife and his possessions, back to his meaningless life, back to wondering what there was to live for now that she had left him and the world for good...
Benny emerged from his lurking place in the shadows of the graveyard, watching Roger's retreating back as he finally left the new gray headstone. It was a gray, dark day with the promise of rain as Benny kneeled down by the grave, placing the single yellow rose on the fresh soil...yellow had always been her favorite color of roses...
"Hey baby," he said softly, a tear lingering on the edge of his eye. "I just want to say...I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we never talked after I found out about you and Roger. I'm sorry that I have to say my goodbyes like this – sorry I have to say my goodbyes at all. I'm sorry for all the times I wasn't as good of a man as you deserved, when I acted like an asshole...because God knows I have a tendency to do that. And I'm sorry for all the times I didn't tell you that I love you when I should have. But April, I love you so much..." Tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably, and he broke down, sobbing into his hands, rocking back and forth. After he had no energy left in him even to cry, he gently kissed his fingertips and traced her name on the tombstone. "Goodbye, love," he murmured softly as he stood up and began to walk away from the grave.
Collins was standing a few yards away, tears in his eyes as well. "I can't believe she's gone," Benny said helplessly.
They embraced as Collins soothingly rubbed his back, and Benny clung to him, not caring about the tears that were soaking the other man's shoulder.
"You okay, man?" Collins asked softly.
Benny pulled away slowly, nodding hesitantly. "Yeah," he replied, wiping his eyes, "I will be."
Collins nodded. "Come on," he said, "let's go get something to drink."