A/N: Hurray for childhood memories! I've had this lullaby stuck in my head for the past three days, so I decided to make a story out of it! Yes, it's sad. Yes, there is character death. If that kind of thing bothers you... don't read. Honestly though, what do you expect from me? I'm like... the WalMart of Angst. Haha. I made a funny.
I'm throwing a pancake party for my super-dooper beta, and that's final!
Disclaimer: Well, according to the mirror, I'm not Jonathan Larson, which means that I don't own Rent. Darn.
He hadn't spoken to her yet. Nothing he could think of could describe how he felt. Though he had been preparing himself for this moment since Mimi's revival, now that the time had come, the words refused to find him. Mimi seemed to understand, as she too, silenced the words that didn't give justice to her emotions. For the time being, he was content to stand outside the open door to her room as she watched him from within. Their eyes spoke; nothing more.
As he finally entered the cold hospital room, he took in her small form. She had lost so much weight in so little time; she barely even looked like Mimi anymore. What he saw was a skeleton of what Mimi once was. What he saw was only flesh and bone.
She let out a soft cough, which turned into a violent fit. When he offered her a cup of water, she took it shakily, sloshing a bit onto the floor. Her coughs ceased as she downed the now-lukewarm liquid. The room was filled with an awkward silence.
Roger sat on the bed, beside Mimi's legs. She sighed softly and closed her eyes. Still, Roger said nothing.
Hours passed. The light from the window faded and the once-bright room dimmed. A song began to sing itself within Roger's soul, quiet at first, then louder, and louder yet, until it seeped from his vocal chords in a soft hum. It was a wordless song; a simple melody, and at first, Roger was content to leave it that way, but after endless minutes of a wordless tune, his mouth began to form words.
"Hush-a-bye," Roger sang. Mimi's eyelids fluttered, but did not open. "Don't you cry. Go to sleep-y little baby." His own voice surprised him: He had not expected it to be so strong and steady. After a moment of hesitation, the words overtook him again, and he continued to sing.
"When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses." He paused again: The beeps of the heart monitor filled the room. Suddenly, sorrow threatened to overtake him. Tears began to form, and he rubbed his eyes to keep them at bay. He cleared his throat and sang again.
"Blacks and bays, dapples and greys, coach and six little horses." A tear betrayed him and fell down his cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away this time, and it dropped onto the starched hospital blanket beneath him. "Hush-a-bye, don't you cry. Go to sleep-y little baby." Roger's voice cracked and he cleared his throat.
A sob choked out. As Roger finally gave in to the flow of tears, a new sound filled the room. Instead of the constant, pulsing blips of the heart monitor letting him know that she was still alive, there was a single long, low beep. Emptiness filled Roger's heart as one thought pervaded his mind: She's gone.
As Roger stood to leave, he paused to look at Mimi's still form, memorizing her now-peaceful features. Turning to walk out the door, he realized that he had never said goodbye. Though he couldn't gather the strength to pivot his body towards her bed, he managed open his mouth and sing to Mimi for one last time.
"When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses."