A/N: This is my first foray into RENT fan fiction, so please be kind. This is a Mark/Roger fic, and a relationship is guaranteed. This fic is AU, Angel lives, and Benny is with Mimi. The rest of the ships are the same.
A/N 2: RENT does not belong to me; all the characters and story belong to the brilliant Jonathon Larson.
Summary: Mark is in an accident and the lives of the Boho's are viewed through a video he shot. This story is a series of connected one shots. Roger discovers some truths about his relationship with Mark. All pairings eventually. AU! Angel Lives!
Chapter 1: Prologue
Roger paced back and forth in front of the Life Café, waiting for Mark to return from Maureen's protest. As the minutes passed by excruciatingly slowly, Roger knew something was wrong with Mark. It was unlike him to be late for anything, so the fact that he was absent only made the rocker worry more. Roger was going crazy when he saw Maureen and Joanne racing down the street toward him.
"Roger, Roger," Maureen screamed. The tone of her voice reminded him of what happened with Mimi a year ago today. All coherent thought left his body and he lost the ability to move. He just stood there staring at the Drama Queen as she raced toward him.
Maureen stopped in front of Roger, Joanne following so close behind her that she bumped into Maureen. Maureen took a few moments to collect herself before speaking.
"Stampede…my Pookie…" Maureen stammered.
Roger's skin went cold and all of the air rushed from his lungs. "What…" he whispered.
"Mark was injured in the riot, Roger," Joanne supplied. "He was taken to the hospital."
Roger slowly sank to his knees in the snow. Mark had to be ok. He just had to. He was the glue that held him together. What am I going to do without Mark? Roger thought. I can't live without him. Roger didn't know how he got there, but suddenly he was seated in a cab, scrunched between Maureen and Collins. I just need to get to the hospital, to Mark. Everything will be ok if I can get to Mark. They all arrived at the hospital and Roger raced ahead of the others.
"I am looking for Mark Cohen," Roger screamed at the attendant. Collins and Angel put their hands on his shoulders in an effort to keep him calm. They didn't want to get kicked out of the hospital before they could find out what was wrong with their friend. Roger took a calming breath, or at least calming for him and through clenched teeth asked the nurse where Mark was being treated.
The Boho's finally got the information they desired and made their way toward their friend. Everyone was quiet. They were all lost in their own thoughts. Roger glanced at his friends, while he walked down the hall. Angel and Collins had their arms around each other, a show of strength and support. Maureen and Joanne had their fingers linked together; Joanne was almost willing some of her quiet strength to Maureen. Mimi and Benny hadn't arrived yet, but Roger had a feeling that they would be comforting each other as well. He felt utterly alone. The one person that could provide that kind of comfort to Roger was lying in a hospital bed. Roger didn't know if he would make it. The one thing he knew for sure is that he would not make it without Mark. When had he begun thinking about Mark like that? Roger just shook those thoughts from his head and concentrated on the present.
When they reached the ICU, they were informed by Mark's doctor that he had been trampled in the riot. The doctor had glasses similar to Mark's, so Roger was oddly comforted by that. They all just stood there waiting for him to speak.
"Well, your friend has suffered a severe concussion," The doctor stated plainly.
"Will he wake up?" Roger asked hesitantly.
"That depends on him," The doctor replied. "One of you may go in and see him if you would like, but don't stay too long."
Roger looked at all of his friends, silently pleading for them to let him go first. Angel broke the silence.
"You go on in, honey," Angel said sweetly. "Tell that boy that we all love him."
Roger nodded gratefully and followed the doctor into Mark's room. The film maker looked so frail lying in the bed. Roger walked over to his bedside and ran his fingers over his camera and glasses that sat on the bedside table. He slowly sank down into the chair and took a moment to look at his friend.
Mark's face was covered with bruises, and his left eye was swollen shut. Roger took his right hand in his and sighed deeply.
"Jesus Christ, Mark, if you wanted attention all you had to do was ask." Roger chuckled softly to himself. He expected to be on the receiving end of one of Mark's trademark smirks, but his stomach lurched at the thought that he may never smirk at him again.
"Oh, Marky," Roger whispered softly. "You just have to come out of this. Do not think for one minute that you can fucking die on me. I won't let you." Roger squeezed his hand once more before turning to leave the room. "I'll be back tomorrow Marky."
He met the expectant faces of his friends as he left the room. Benny and Mimi were there also, so the whole gang was there, everyone but the one person that really mattered. He locked eyes with Collins and nodded, Collins smiled back, but understood the silent message Roger was communicating. They were all worried about Roger, but Collins knew he needed time to process what happened.
"Let's go to the cafeteria, bitches," Collins said, motioning everyone to follow him. They looked nervously at one another. "He'll be fine for a while," Collins said firmly. "Give the boy room to breathe." They all nodded and followed Collins.
Roger was unsure how he made it to the loft, but all's he knew is that he had Mark's camera, glasses and scarf with him. He was holding them like a lifeline. His only lifeline to Mark. He walked towards his projector. He needed to see something Mark had done…needed to be close to him…needed his comforting presence…needed to take away the image of Mark lying in that hospital bed…something…anything. He had seen almost everything Mark had done, but when he came across a reel entitled Giving Thanks, he stopped. Mark had never shown him this before. He popped it on the projector, just as he was taught, and settled against the old, ratty couch with Mark's scarf wrapped around his neck. The black/blank screen came to life with the routine/usual 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 countdown, and then Mark's familiar and comforting face came into view.
TBC: Next up: Mark & Roger
A/N: This is my first RENT fic, so please be kind. This chapter is setting up the story, so the rest will tell the tales of our favorite Boho's. Thanks for reading and if the mood strikes you please review.