Title: Leaving the Past Behind
Summary: Mark has a dark past that Roger doesn't know about. When an event triggers the memories, he begins to have nightmares. They threaten to destroy him and Roger must help him through it. Mark depression story, but not slash. Post-RENT
Category: Angst & Hurt/Comfort
Rating: T for Adult themes, language
Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, God bless Jonathan Larson - Thank you for creating one of the most amazing pieces of art I have ever seen.
Warnings: TW for abuse, self-harm
Chapter 1: Get a Room
Mark Cohen opened his eyes on a chilly February Saturday, clutching the blankets closer to gain warmth. He rolled over to attempt to go back to sleep, but after only a minute, he realized he would not be able to sleep longer. He figured he should get up anyway. After all, it was almost ten-o-clock in the morning.
It had been nearly two months since Mimi's brush with death. She and Roger still lived in separate apartments, but because of it, they spent nearly every waking minute together and took turns sleeping over. It seemed like everyone was appreciating life just a little bit more after that night. Collins was away doing a new teaching job and was loving it and even Maureen and Joanne seemed to be getting along better. For the moment, at least.
The only thing Mark really didn't appreciate was the fact that he had to ask Alexi for his job back at Buzzline. They had no choice. They needed money to live and most importantly, for Roger's AZT. Mark decided it was well worth it though; Roger was like a brother to him. He wanted to make sure he had everything he needed. And if it meant selling out to Buzzline, so be it.
Mark sat up and eventually rolled out of bed. He shivered as his bare feet touched the hard, frigid floor. He dug out some clean socks, thick wool ones – the kind he liked best in the winter, and put them on before leaving his bedroom. He blinked a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes and noticed he Roger sipping coffee in the kitchen. "Morning."
"Morning."
"Going out with Mimi again today, I take it?"
"Yeah, probably. What about you? Got any plans?"
"I was thinking about doing a little filming around the city.
Roger raised his eyebrows. "Oh really? Mark Cohen's next great documentary?"
Mark laughed. It seemed far too soon to be doing a new project. "Yeah, something like that." He truly wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he thought doing a little filming without any particular direction in mind might get the creative juices flowing again.
Mark joined Roger in eating a bowl of cereal. It was quiet while they ate; both thinking over their days ahead and doing a little reflecting.
A little later, there was a brief knock before the door opened and Mimi walked in.
"Hey Meems," Roger said delightfully, before giving her a long, passionate kiss on the lips.
Mark rolled his eyes and refocused on the cereal bowl in front of him as his best friend continued his mini make-out session. "Hey guys, get a room," Mark said, smiling.
"Sorry, Marky," Mimi replied playfully.
Before long, Roger and Mimi left allowing Mark to have the loft to himself. He was in a pleasant mood and was ready to get out and get working on his next big project.
Mark bundled up and left the loft around noon to venture into the city. He filmed everything he could film. Anything he could think of as being significant. His last film was remarkable and he wanted to do something of similar importance with his next one. He wasn't quite sure what the culmination of all of it might be, but he kind of liked it not having a purpose. It was a nice break from the horrible work he was doing for Buzzline.
He stopped at a local diner for a quick lunch with the last bit of cash left over from his check and continued on with his filming.
The hours seemed to pass quickly and soon it became dark. Mark decided it was probably a good time to be heading home.
As he got closer to their loft, it was obvious the difference between the business part of New York City and Alphabet City. Mark got closer and closer to Avenue A, but couldn't help but notice someone following him. He could hear the footsteps and couldn't shake the uneasy feeling they gave him. Afraid to look behind him, he picked up the pace a little and tried to get home as quickly as possible.
Suddenly the footsteps picked up the pace with him and he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going in such a hurry?" the voice asked. It was male, and very deep. Mark shivered beneath him. Of all the saps in New York City they could have targeted, why him? Why not some rich asshole in the business district with hundreds in his pocket? Why did they choose the poor guy with a worn jacket and pants with holes in them?
"N-n-nowhere."
"Nowhere huh? Then maybe you wouldn't mind if we talked to ya for a second." The man turned Mark around and he saw that he was facing two rather large men.
The next few seconds seemed like a complete blur. He didn't know which one threw the first punch, but before he knew it he was being attacked. Punch after punch was thrown, followed by kicks once Mark had fallen to the ground. His glasses clattered to the ground at almost the same moment as his satchel. He watched as one of the men grabbed it and began digging his way through Mark's possessions. He wasn't sure what the man expected to find, after all, he had just spent what little he had left.
"I don't have anything. I'm broke," he pleaded hoping they would leave him alone.
"Let's see about that," the first man said, pulling Mark by his jacket into a kneeling position and reaching into his pants pockets. Finding nothing, he pushed him back to the ground.
"He's right, Ben. This asshole is completely broke. Nothing but a bunch of junk in here," the man digging through his bag said.
The man referred to as 'Ben' gave Mark one last hard kick in the head and took off running with the other two. After that, Mark blacked out.