A/N: Hey all! I was planning on doing a happy April/Roger chapter but I was at a bit of a roadblock with that one. So I thought up this one concerning Angel and Roger right before Angel dies. Not as a pairing, in case that sentence gave that impression. :D Off we go now.

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or Roger Davis. I do own some of his memories though. I also don't own the title of this chapter. It belongs to the creative minds of Aida (there's a funny story about how I came across this musical… but I won't waste your time with it now.)

I'm Ready for My Close Up!

Enchantment Passing Through

When Angel got sick it's safe to say that it was like someone dropped a bomb on all of our lives. We were all fighting with each other and it was if it were a sign for us to get over ourselves when it happened. Angel was like the innocent lamb that was sacrificed for the greater good of all. Thinking about it like that though makes me sick. Why should she have had to have been sacrificed?

Anyway, everyone was always visiting Angel in her hospital room. And just like in any scenario when a person falls seriously ill, some people visited more than others. I found I had a hard time going down there and looking at her so feeble in that disgustingly white room. So I visited only when I needed and tried to ignore the fact that I was wasting time.

(End flashback!!)

"Hey, we were all gonna meet Angel at the hospital. Want to come?" Mark asked the strumming guitarist by the window with an unconcerned air. Roger swung his head to look at Mark as if considering for a moment.

"I'll swing by a little later okay? I've got some stuff I have to take care of first." Roger hoped that Mark didn't hear the quivering undertone in his voice. Mark just nodded and headed out the door.

"We'll expect you later then," Mark repeated as if he didn't really believe the words. Roger went back to strumming casually until the door slid shut with a CLANG. Heaving a heavy sigh Roger set the guitar on the ground next to him. He then proceeded to stare at the ceiling and asked himself why he was doing this.

"Why can't I just drag my ass down there and see her?" Roger mused out loud and tapped his fingers against his stretched stomach. Hadn't had anything to eat for a while now.

"Because you can't bear to see Angel look like that. Because you are weak," a chilly and dark voice in the back of Roger's mind answered. Secretly Roger agreed with this voice although he would never speak the words out loud to himself. "And besides… Mimi will be there and not only will you have to face one truth but two. Mimi looks a little pale doesn't she? She looks a little thinner than usual right? Her eyes are bloodshot and those eyes stare at you with such longing and hurt…"

"SHUT UP!" Roger roared and in his rage kicked his guitar so that a loud TWANG emitted from the strings. "Shit…" Roger swore and picked his guitar up tenderly to see if any damage was done to it. Cautiously he played a few notes and grimaced at the terrible noise they made. After a few more choice words and silent tantrums Roger was silent again, staring up at the ceiling.

And so the hours passed as Roger fell dozed off and on fitfully. Whenever the dreams did come however it was Angel, Mimi, or April swimming in the darkness of his closed eyelids.

…………………………

Roger jumped as the door slid open and defensively pushed up on his palms and snapped his head towards the entryway. Luckily, it was only a bewildered Mark that met Roger's squinting eyes.

"Well hello to you too," Mark grinned and walked over to the table to set down his camera. "We missed you today." Roger grinned sheepishly and motioned to the window seat quickly.

"Sorry man, I fell asleep. I had a little trouble snoozing last night so I guess my body was making up for that," he lied smoothly. Mark cocked an eyebrow but didn't say anything about the obvious tall tale.

"Well Angel says hello and wanted me to tell you that she thinks about you," Mark said tonelessly and wandered towards the kitchen. Roger nodded distractedly and lowered his eyes in guilt.

"I'll swing by there tomorrow or something," Roger offered and heard Mark grunt in reply. Roger didn't ask what the grunt meant or if Mark had heard him or not. He just thought about what the hell he was doing. "I think I'll head in early tonight," Roger mumbled and stumbled off to his room. Mark watched him go in concern, a frown etched deep on his face.

(End flashback)

You could say that I had reached a brand new low. I was feeling pretty bad, kicking myself for being such an ass and yet not quite willing to stop being one. It is much easier to just ignore your mistakes than to actually confront them if you ask me. Yet by morning I was ready to try and face some of them at least and go visit Angel at the hospital. For once I was ready to keep a promise.

(Flashback!)

A polite young nurse smiled up at the rocker before her desk. Even though she noted the deep and dark circles beneath his eyes and bedraggled state his long hair was in she decided to ask if he needed help anyway.

"Hello sir! Is there something I can help you with?" she asked in a loud and cheerful voice, hoping to spark some sort of interest. Roger just looked up blearily and nodded.

"Do you have an Angel Dummot Schunard?" Roger asked, tapping his toes somewhat impatiently. The pretty blonde smiled warmly and turned to face her computer.

"The name sounds familiar but I'll have to check to see what room he's in," the kind nurse replied.

"She," Roger wearily corrected without thinking anything of it. The young woman flushed slightly but quickly acknowledged the mistake.

"I'm sorry, she," she apologized and finished up typing in her computer. "Yes, Angel happens to be in room 307. Are you a relative?" Roger shook his head without even thinking about it.

"I'm a close friend," he explained in slight frustration. Roger just wanted to get in there and see her before he changed his mind and ran like a bat out of hell. The blonde frowned however and looked at Roger suspiciously.

"I'm afraid we can't let in strangers without consulting the patient first," she warned, hoping that this would throw the potential imposter off. Roger just nodded and smiled wanly.

"Please tell her that Roger is here," he insisted, motioning down the hall. The nurse sniffed a little but walked briskly down the amazingly clean hallway, shooting suspicious glances back at Roger all the while. After several moments she returned with another sunshiny smile pasted to her face.

"She's eager to see you Roger," she chirped and led Roger quickly down the hall. "She wishes to visit with you until you are ready to leave. I must warn you though." The nurse then turned with a grave expression on her face and glared at Roger sternly. "Angel is very fragile and you may not recognize her right away. Be prepared for that." Roger nodded but for a moment seemed unable to follow the kind woman to the room.

His feet seemed glued to the white tiles and Roger's throat felt so dry. Everything inside of him screamed at him to run out and bail while he still had the chance.

"You don't have to do this to yourself Roger…" something in his subconscious told him. "You can run away and not have to deal with this." Roger shook his head though tears began to sting in the back of his eyes. He knew that he had to do this now… or he would be completely lost.

"Sir?" the woman asked, a hand placed gently on a door handle. "Are you alright?" Roger looked at her through red and tearing eyes but nodded anyway.

"I'm ready," he said in a hoarse voice and shuffled into the room. Unfortunately the sight that greeted Roger in that Clorox scented room was enough to make Roger want to bolt once again. Angel was lying on a small hospital bed with all sorts of wires, air filters, needles, and anything else you could imagine surrounding her and even protruding from her body. She no longer had her wigs or makeup but was instead clean-faced and smiling softly.

"Oh my god…" he thought silently to himself. Yet somehow his feet carried him even father into the room until he had taken a seat next to Angel's bed.

"Hi Roger!" Angel said brightly from her bed and pressed on her palms so that she could sit up straight. Roger let out a weak smile and leaned in closer.

"Hey," he responded softly and continued to look at her pale and weak face. "How are you holding out?" he choked out through a slowly closing throat. Angel waved a newly polished nail as if to dismiss the question.

"I'm doing just fine… I wish everyone would stop asking me though," Angel responded with a wide grin. Roger let out a short laugh and began to feel a little more at ease. In reality seeing this scene before scared the crap out of Roger. Would this be what he would look like when it was his time?

"You look great," Roger said and motioned to her fingernails. "I see that someone had the urge to paint those for you." Angel smiled yet again and held her hands out before her to examine the paint job.

"Yes… Mimi was in here a couple days ago and brought my favorite nail polish with her," Angel explained with a wide grin. Roger couldn't help but notice that the smile was becoming strained and that Angel's eyes seemed slightly glazed over.

"That sounds like Mimi," Roger responded softly; pain once more striking his heart. Angel's smile slowly slid off her face when she heard this. She looked over at the exhausted rocker and slowly reached out to touch his hand with her own.

"And how are you holding up Roger?" she asked softly with concern. Roger looked up and their eyes met briefly… slowly dying green clashing with silent yet hopeful brown. He just sighed and shook his head wearily.

"I'm doing okay… I've been a lot better before but… I'm hanging in there," Roger responded unconvincingly. Angel let out a long breath through her nose but squeezed Roger's hand comfortingly.

"Been there and done that," Angel replied with a small smile. Roger nodded distractedly as he looked at Angel's face intently.

(End flashback)

Suddenly it was as if we weren't in a hospital room… one dying of illness and the other dying of loneliness. We talked about each others pasts and discovered that we never really knew each other. Angel seemed to know all about April though… I suspected that Collins finally sat her down and told the entire story. I would always be grateful to him for that because I wouldn't have had the strength to explain at the time when we first met Angel.

I learned that Angel's family had disowned her when they found out her little secret. Angel learned about how Mark and I first met and how we came to be in Alphabet City. She also learned all about my band and little embarrassing details about Mark and Maureen's fleeting relationship. In turn she would tell me about how life in New York was a hell of a lot better than living in the streets of Mexico. To which I would respond, "Well Scarsdale wasn't a picnic either." She found that strangely hilarious.

Time passed and the nurses occasionally interrupted us to help Angel go use the restroom or giver her medication. I just waited patiently and assisted whenever I could because I knew that Angel would do the same for me. It was a good way to spend an afternoon However it slowly became time that we acknowledged that topic… that unmentionable conversation that I had been needing for so long. And I think Angel needed to have this conversation just as much as I did.

(Flashback)

"Sweetie, would you pass me some water?" Angel asked sweetly. Roger eagerly complied even though he knew that it was code for "Would you please bring that cup to my lips and help me swallow it." Once Angel had finally swallowed the last bit that Roger had offered she tilted her head and smiled. "Thank you."

"No problem," Roger replied and smiled warmly. There came a long silence that was really only slightly uncomfortable. So much had passed between the two of them in those few hours that they were now close friends instead of just occasional friends. That scared the hell out of Roger too.

Angel stared at Roger in curiosity during the silence and Roger tried to act like he didn't notice. Finally, Angel took a deep breath, exhaled, and then came out with the thrice cursed statement.

"Why are you doing this to Mimi?" Roger jumped a bit, not really expecting the question out of Angel of all people. A faint roaring sounded in his ears and for a moment it seemed like his brain simply couldn't wrap around what exactly Angel was saying to him. When the storm finally cleared the words rang loudly in Roger's ears, forcing him to comprehend and eventually respond.

"What do you mean?" he finally asked through a dry throat. Angel pursed her lips and looked Roger Davis square in the eye.

"Why are you pushing her away… and why now?" Angel repeated in a more firm tone. Roger tried to suppress the groan of emotional pain that the question brought him and answered as indifferently as he could.

"She knows why… and I know why," he responded coldly… almost in a detached manner. Angel frowned and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.

"Now don't shut me out now Roger Davis. I suppose you don't have to tell me but don't pretend to be something you're not." Roger sighed and looked at Angel apologetically.

"I'm sorry… old habits die hard you know," Roger joked as he tried to change the subject. Angel wasn't going for it though. She weakly reached her arms out and grabbed both of Roger's hands in a weak grasp. Roger marveled at this because he had temporarily forgotten about Angel's physical condition because they had been talking for so long. It was as if her fingers couldn't quite bend enough to get Roger's full hand so he remained as still as possible for her sake.

"Roger…" Angel began weakly. Roger's stomach dropped when he realized exactly where this conversation was going. Instantly that old run instinct grabbed hold of him and he quite nearly bolted out of the room. Angel's voice was so soft and helpless though… Roger couldn't just abandon her now. "I don't know if you've noticed or not but I'm dying." Roger remained silent because it seemed like his tongue had swollen up and filled his whole mouth.

"And I have so many regrets… so many things that I wish I could do over." Roger gaped at her in shock… the great Angel Dummot-Schunard has regrets?? No… it couldn't be. "I wish I had gone back home and gave my mother forgiveness… I wish that I hadn't snapped at Collins so last week when he tried to give me a kiss." Roger absorbed this silently like a sponge… catching a glimpse of what Mark must have to do all the time. "But most of all sweetie, I wish that didn't get sick now. Not when everyone actually needs me." Angel's voice broke and she looked away, pain showing clearly in those eyes.

"Angel," Roger murmured softly, "We always needed you." Angel shook her head and peered back up at Roger sadly.

"Not like this," she whispered with guilt showing plainly on her face. Roger's shoulders tensed as he watched Angel break down for the first time. He didn't know what to do… or what to say. Roger just sat there quietly and let Angel still hold onto his hands with their weak grasp and pondered the odd way things had turned out.

How was it that Angel was able to confess her greatest fears to a man never cared about anything but himself when Roger wasn't able to confess his to possibly the most selfless person he would ever meet.

(End Flashback)

After that the nurses shooed me away… saying that Angel needed a nap. I remember her murmuring about how she hated to see me go but that Collins was coming later that day. I understood completely of course… she needed to be ready to see her lover. She did tell me how great it was to see me again and that she had missed my "pretty face". I laughed at this comment and in turn said how great it was to see her as well. When I finally left the hospital room my mind had almost been made up to go visit Mimi again. To apologize for all those words that I said to her.

Or at least that was what I was planning to do. I knew exactly what I had to do and was satisfied and prepared to perform it the very next morning. I slept easy knowing that tomorrow the world would no longer be blue and that I would have Mimi again. That was until, the phone call in the middle of the night.

(Flashback)

RIIIIIIIING!!!

Roger groaned angrily and rolled back over on his side in an attempt to block the sound.

RIIIIIIIIING!!!

Roger heard a rustle in Mark's room next to him but otherwise neither moved to pick up the phone. Roger sighed and waited to hear the answering machine pick up, hear whatever psycho that was calling them this late leave their pointless message, and then get back to some blissful sleep.

SPEEEAK!!!

"Mark! Roger! God some one answer the damn phone!" the frantic and blaring voice of Tom Collins shouted through the quiet Loft. Roger heard the panic in his friend's voice and felt his heart clench dangerously. He dashed out of bed though and hurried to the phone, reaching it just before Mark entered the room.

"Collins!" Roger sleepily replied into the phone despite his growing fear. "What's going on?" he asked in concern though he couldn't help but throw some irritation into his tone.

"Roger?" Collins asked weakly and Roger noted that it sounded as if he had been crying. Mark pulled his glasses on and squinted at his roommate through them.

"What's going on?" Mark asked in concern after focusing in on Roger's fearful face. Roger ignored him however and replied to Collins instead.

"Yeah… I'm here," Roger reassured and braced himself for the news. A deep and shaky breath was drawn from the person on the other end.

"Angel… she…" Collins stuttered before stopping again. His voice broke out of grief. Roger went cold for a minute, ignoring Mark's demands to know what was wrong. He barely even noticed when the frantic filmmaker ripped the phone from Roger's petrified form.

All that Roger knew was that his newly formed world was now crumbling into pieces. He felt a fool for believing that love could conquer all. All that Angel did was for nothing… she was dead. It didn't even matter anymore.

"Do any of the others know?" Mark asked quietly, looking rather pale himself. Somehow this phrase caught Roger's attention and snapped him out of his cold realization. Roger leaned in a little closer and heard the faint and muffled reply.

"Yours was the first number I could think of." Roger didn't move from his spot but kept his eyes carefully on Mark and the phone. It was over.

(End flashback)

I guess that's when I really took the thought of leaving New York and go to Santa Fe really became a reality. At first it had just been a nice thought… something to get me through the winters. Now everywhere I went I was reminded of how shitty my life was. I just couldn't help but hear Angel's words… about the regrets. Unfortunately I took it all the wrong way… I wasn't ready to learn. So after the funeral I took off in my new car and left Mimi in tears.

But I came back. I guess that's what counts.

A/N: Wow… that was a bit longer than usual I think. Again, so sorry about the wait. It just took me so long to develop this idea and I had to start re-wrting several times so… I'll stop making excuses now. I welcome new ideas of something you think should be in Roger's memories!! If I also think the idea is workable the chapter will be dedicated to you so… :D Anyway, please review!!