A/N: So I've been writing a lot of one shots lately, and I'll admit it, this too was going to be a one-shot, but I think I could go a little more in depth on it. No real idea of how long yet, but not too long. It focuses on Roger, Post-Rent. Quick Background info, it's about 6 months after the storyline of the show ends. Mimi died 2 months after she was found in the park, after a relapse into drugs. There are a couple O/C's but they'll be introduced, so it shouldn't be too confusing. And, I think that's all the explanation you'll need…hope it's not too boring!
Disclaimer: All original characters and RENT are copyright of Jonathan Larson.
Roger stared out the window. He was sitting in the same spot he sat everyday for hours on end. He knew he spent too many hours moping, he knew it wasn't going to change anything, but it was like a force was stopping him. He felt numb. He didn't start dying when he got AIDS. He'd been dying forever. The drug addiction didn't phase him, it just convinced him he was an even more terrible person. He was the epitome of Bohemian failure. He'd succumbed to his own evils and chosen rags not because he despised riches, but because it was easy. He stood for nothing, he believed in nothing. Except death that is.
The heavy metal door of the loft opened quickly, Roger looked up, but when he saw it was Collins he returned to his daze.
"Roger, Life Support meeting in five, you're not ditching this week." Collins threw a paper bag down on the counter and emptied the essentials into the cupboard. Stoli, generic beer, and the week old free loaf of bread from the bakery down the street. It was on the verge of molding, but no one would end up eating it anyway.
"Next week Collins, I'm not in the mood." Roger didn't break his gaze from the parking meter across the street.
"Listen, every week I come over here, and do everything short of physically picking you up and carrying you to the meeting. You've missed three in a row."
Roger just sighed. He wasn't budging on the issue.
"Fine, wallow in your pity. Let Mark baby you. But take it from someone who is just like you. Dying just like you, but alive just like you too. Sitting around isn't going to solve anything, but kill you faster." Collins walked over and was staring him straight in the eye. Not his usual happy demeanor, but he was sick and tired of Roger and his bullshit. He stared Roger down for another minute before giving up. "I guess I was wrong. You've watched two girlfriends die. Two. And you plan on dying just like them, not of any disease, but of self pity," he spat, but retreated, shaking his head. He headed for the door, tossing the empty paper bag in the direction of the garbage can on the way.
Roger put his head in his hands. He was the enemy of life.
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The sun burned his eyes now that it wasn't being filtered through the dirty windows of the loft. Roger stood outside the community center, location of the weekly Life Support meetings. Collins' guilt trip had hit him right in the heart. His mind went back to the memories of four months before, when he learned of Mimi's death. That's right, 'learned'.
Mimi returned to the streets not long after her 'recovery.' She was victim of addiction. She didn't have someone like Mark to pick up the pieces like Roger had when he had fallen to the same evils. The truth was, it was because Roger never helped her. He'd failed her, and now he'd spent the past four months silently killing himself. Not with drugs. Not with a blade. Not with alcohol. Just pure emotion.
He felt nauseous taking the first few steps into the community center. He didn't know if he could tolerate hearing other people's problems, and he sure as hell wasn't going to spill his soul to others to use as 'therapy' for their own problems. He considered taking those two steps right back out the door, but it was too late.
"Roger!" It was Collins, right on cue. Realist extraordinaire. "Come here, there's someone I want you to meet." Guess there was no easing back into the therapy thing.
The group was gathered around the usual circle of chairs. They were all standing and talking in small groups, the meeting obviously hadn't started yet.
"This is Savannah." Collins gestured to the young woman whom he was standing with. She looked young, maybe 20 or 21. Skinny, brown curly hair. Quite pretty. She held out her hand, greeting Roger. He timidly shook her hand. He was scared Collins was turning Life Support into a singles gathering, and Roger really wasn't in the mood.
"It's nice to meet you," Savannah cheerily stated as they both pulled away from the handshake. An awkward silence commenced.
Seeing that Savannah wasn't going to explain the introduction, Collins began. "Savannah has a son, Jacob."
Roger just nodded, he didn't see where this was going.
Savannah picked up the explanation, "Jacob is interested in music, guitar especially. Thomas told me about you when he met Jacob last week. He said you're a guitar teacher. I've been looking everywhere for a male guitar teacher in the area, you'd be surprised how hard that is. Jacob doesn't have any male role models, so I figured the best way would be if he could find that in a subject he enjoys so much, music. I was hoping maybe you'd be interested in teaching lessons." Savannah smiled, waiting for a reply after her lengthy explanation.
Roger looked over at Collins. He'd been tricked. "One moment," Roger replied, pulling Collins to the side.
"Sure, I'll go get Jacob, he's right down the hall in the art room." She left and headed towards the hallway.
"What the hell?" Roger whispered in a harsh tone.
"What man, I'm trying to help you!" Collins replied defensively, Roger looked angry.
"Listen, I do not need you to try and set me up with some chick by telling her I'll teach her son guitar. A, I don't teach anything. B, I'm done with dating. I'm done with love, sex, heartbreak, all of it!" He shoved Collins back a little, and headed towards the door.
"That's not why I told her that, I want you to meet Jacob!" Collins tried to stop Roger. However, it turned out to be unnecessary as he almost ran into Savannah and Jacob heading down the hallway towards the door.
Savannah smiled as Roger came quickly to a stop. There was no escape. "This is Jacob," she rubbed the young boys shoulders, giving him a loving squeeze. The boy was smiling, and looked genuinely happy to meet Roger. He looked young, maybe nine, but that seemed too old to be the son of someone as young as Savannah, but he definitely had her eyes. However it was obvious what Collins meant by their introduction now. Jacob's thin face looked gaunt, and his cheeks were sunken. He was a young boy suffering from the same disease Roger was facing, but there was one sharp difference. Jacob was smiling.
A/N: Just as a clarification if anyone's confused about the end, and how Roger instantly 'knew' Jacob had AIDS: hollow, sunken cheeks are a side-effect of a lot of the AIDS medications.