Story: My Time On Earth

Author: LostinKaos

Summary: Forgetting your past is one thing, but forgetting your memories is entirely different thing. Forgetting your world, as well as yourself, is a horrifying thought.

Disclaimer: I do not own RENT. It is not my creation. I am not that brilliant. I am simply borrowing the characters before wiping their memories of any events I involve them in and returning them to their original form.

Author's Note: I know I already have many stories started and one that I'm actively working on, but I couldn't avoid posting this story any longer. This story is based on an event that occurred in my life with a person that I knew quite well. I started writing this story around the 4 ½ year anniversary of this person's death. I have learned from the past that my forte is writing unhappy stories. For some reason death is a great topic for me to portray in my writing. I also decided that after all these years my friend needed his story to be told so I figured RENT and its characters would be the easiest way to tell his story. This will not be a happy story. There more than likely will not be a happy ending. There will be a CHARACTER DEATH in this story. So, without further ado, this story is written in loving memory of my friend, Larry, who passed away August 7, 2004.


My Time On Earth

Chapter One

It was late at night while Mark resided in bed staring blankly at the ceiling. After almost two years it was still hard to wrap his mind around the concept of his life. He knew his life had never been easy, especially not since becoming friends with Roger, not that he would trade being Roger's friend for anything. He had seen and been through things that many people should never have to see or go through. The worst of all was occurring in his life at this very moment in time.

Mark reached up and rubbed the back of his head. A shudder ran through his body as he thought about how close his hand was to the one thing that was not only changing his world, but his life.

He remembered the day when Angel had cornered him and told him to go to the hospital. He hadn't listened at first. He told her she was crazy and that there was nothing wrong with him. He had just been zoning out a lot lately. It wasn't anything to worry about. However, Angel was worried. The next day she had literally dragged him to the hospital while Collins and Roger were out.

Mark remembered sitting in the waiting room. He remembered the doctor asking him questions. He remembered Angel sharing her thoughts on what she thought was wrong. He remembered the doctor's questioning look before writing out a name and sending them else were. He remembered going through the testing that they wanted to do. Angel had told him to do everything they wanted, and he did. The worry on her face had caused a lot of dread to grow in the pit of Mark's stomach. It wasn't until a week later when he and Angel sat in the doctor's office did that dread grow into absolute numbness.

Angel had wrapped her arms around Mark and held him close as the doctor's words sank into him. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. There was no way, not after everything he had gone through, that he would accept this new fate that had been thrown at him. He out right refused. Mark remembered telling the doctor that he had to be mistaken, but from the look on the doctor's face Mark knew that he wasn't. It was true. The paper in his hand which held his fate was clearly written out.

Mark had allowed the paper to fall from his hand and float to the ground. He could remember feeling Angel's arms around him, but he couldn't remember anything else. He didn't know what had happened from the time the paper hit the floor until Angel was wiping his cheek with her hand.

"It's okay honey." She had said. But it wasn't okay. It would never be okay. He knew from that moment on that Roger, or anyone else for that matter, was to never find out. It had taken a lot of arguing, but finally Angel had given in. She remained silent and the information of Mark's fate went with her to grave not eight months later.

Knowing he would never be able to sleep, Mark removed himself from his bed and headed into the living area of the loft. He sat down by the window and looked up at the sky. He couldn't see any stars. No one could see stars in New York. It just didn't happen. While he looked at the light polluted sky he zoned out once again. However his zoning out wasn't normal. He didn't randomly remove himself from the world and thought about things without knowing it. His zoning out meant that he forgot everything. It drove him crazy that one moment he was himself and the next moment he couldn't remember anything past a few seconds ago. These moments never lasted long and before long he remembered everything again. However these moments were getting more frequent and they were making it hard to hide from Roger. He was beginning to catch on that something was wrong.

Roger woke up hours later and walked out of his room to find Mark sitting by the window looking up at the sky. Mark hadn't done that in while; at least not since before Angel had died.

"Mark, you okay?" Roger asked from his spot near his bedroom door.

Mark turned to look at Roger with blank eyes and a slightly confused look on his face. A moment later Mark shook his head quickly and then looked at Roger with tired eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You didn't look like it."

"I'm fine, Rog. Just tired." Mark said turning back to the window. He ran his hand through his hair and shuttered when his hand came in contact with the back of his skull.

"Then go back to sleep. We're going to Life tonight, remember." Roger said walking into the 'kitchen' to make a cup of coffee.

Mark stared after Roger with a confused look on his face. They were going to the Life? When? Why? He didn't remember making those plans. It didn't matter that he hadn't been remembering everything recently, that wasn't the point. The point was he didn't remember this.

"Mark, earth to Mark." Roger said standing in front of the filmmaker as he tried to hand him a mug. Mark looked up at him. When did he get there? Mark took the mug from Roger's hand, but didn't drink any. He couldn't figure out why he was zoning out so much today. It never happened this much before. Mark knew this wasn't good. If he kept zoning out it was going to become harder to hide from Roger. He had to keep it from Roger at all costs.

Mark placed his untouched mug down on the bench and removed himself from the same room as Roger. He needed to be alone to think and he certainly couldn't think if Roger was in the same room as him looking at him strangely every five seconds. This really wasn't good.

Mark dug under his mattress for the many pamphlets he and Angel had gathered after he had been diagnosed. Looking through them he realized that he was, indeed, reaching the end of his time frame. His memory loss was becoming more frequent, just like the doctor and Angel said it would. This also meant that it was becoming harder and harder to hide from Roger. Shit.

He returned the pamphlets back to their hiding place and leaned against the wall. Pulling his knees up to his chest he rested his head on them and sighed. Where was Angel when he needed her? He could go visit her, it was October after all. No one would question his need to go visit her. It's been almost a year since she passed. Mark was almost certain Collins would be doing the same thing.

Mark was about to stand up and go do just that, when a knock arrived on his door. Mark froze. It could only belong to one person. "Mark." Roger was at his door. Fuck. It was getting harder to be around Roger and he didn't want to be around him until he had a plan. "Mark, open the door." Double Fuck.

He stood up and walked to the door before slowly opening it. He hoped his memory would last for this encounter. "Maureen just called. She wants to spend the day with everyone. They'll be here in a little bit." Roger said. When did the phone ring? Mark wondered. He hadn't even heard the phone ring and even though he was forgetting thing he was pretty sure he would have remembered that.

"How soon is a little bit?" Mark asked opening his door the rest of the way and looking at Roger, who was still clad in his PJ pants and t-shirt.

"I'd say within the hour. It will take her some time to call everyone and to get ready." Roger said turning away from Mark's room and heading toward his own room.

"This is true." Mark said. Roger just nodded his head before disappearing into his room and closing the door. Mark sighed and closed his own door. So much for leaving the loft and going to visit Angel.

Once again he ran his hand through his hair and once again he shuttered. Grabbing a few clothes he headed into the bathroom for a shower. He hoped the warm water would help him think.

Mark placed his glasses on the counter before removing his shirt and tossing it haphazardly on the floor in front of the door. His PJ pants followed soon after. He turned to look at himself in the mirror. His short blonde hair was a mess, but that was from tossing in bed and constantly running his hand through it. His ice blue eyes were blood shot, but that went with the lack of sleep the past few nights. His cheek bones were hollow, a sign that he hadn't eaten much recently.

He ran his right hand over his chest, feeling the light dusting of too blonde hair that resided there, and down to rested his hand on his slightly concaved stomach. He hadn't been eating much, and it was starting to show. His left hand came to rest on one of his jutting hip bones. He was glad his pants hide that for the most part. He was easiest the small of them all. Unlike the rest of them, he didn't need to stay as healthy in regards to his sickness.

Closing his eyes he ran both hands over his face before turning away from the mirror. He stripped out of his boxers and discarded them with the rest of his clothing. He turned the water on and stepped in before waiting for it to adjust.

The sudden feel of cold water shocked him fully awake, but as the warm water started to flow over his body, his mind started to drift. He still had no idea how to avoid Roger without fully avoiding him or give away that he was avoiding him. It was a complicated circle with no end.

The warm water soothed his tired body and relaxed his tense muscles. If only the water could relax his brain, then everything would be perfect for the moment. However it was not to be.

It wasn't long until Mark turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He avoided looking in the mirror and wrapped a towel around himself before grabbing his glasses and discarded clothes and making a mad dash into his room. Luck was on his side because Roger was still within his own room.

Mark dried off quickly before slipping on a clean pair of boxers and dressing in a pair of worn and faded jeans and a red sweater. He ran the towel through his wet hair before discarding that on his bed. Placing his glasses on his face he found a pair of socks and his shoes before exiting his room.

Clean and fully awake he was ready to take on the day and hopefully that involved finding a way to deal with Roger and not zoning out.


A/N: Please me know what you think. Thanks!