DISCALIMER: As much as I wish I did, I do not own Mark or Roger ::sniff:: They belong to the late great Jonathan Larson.

Silver Tears

By Daze

Chapter One: Christmas Eve

I'll never forget the look on his face when he read the letter. Sitting on the couch, he clutched the dreaded paper in his hands. "Roger" he said, looking up "I'm HIV positive." Silver tears formed and melted into his pale blue eyes. Another thing I'll never forget is his eyes. Showing fear, sorrow, and confusion. Begging to be comforted. I sat down next to him and put my arm around him. He fell into my embrace, shaking.

That was 3 month ago. He can barely hold himself up now. He's so much smaller than me; the virus attacked him so quickly. Yesterday, we walked to the Life Café to eat lunch. It took him a half hour to go down the stairs on his crutches. He refused to let me carry him. After we ate, I carried him up the stairs. He was too weak to get up to the loft by himself.

Today is Christmas Eve. It's a tradition that we watch Disney's "A Christmas Carol". Mark likes it, even though he's Jewish. Well. it got to the part in the "future" when Tiny Tim. dies. Poor Mark. He looked at his crutches, looked at me and looked at the floor. "I'm Tiny Tim this year. and I'm gonna die." He started sobbing. I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his small body, wanting to protect him from any harm and pain that he'd ever come across. He fell asleep in my arms. He looks so peaceful asleep. So carefree. The way he looked before the disease attacked him. I wish we could stay this way forever.