Disclaimer: i don't own Rent, though I wish I did. Yadda yadda. Oh, and I promise to finish my other story, my Mark one, one of these days. Please R&R... no flames. This will eventually turn into slash but I am taking my good 'ol time with it.
Roger shivered as the crisp cold air of the fall morning stung his cheeks. His body may have reacted, but no emotion was shown on his face. He held a deadly glare to the ground as he walked down the sidewalk. His jaw was clenched to prevent his aching throat from the tears that kept welling in the corners of his eyes. Keeping his mind on everything and nothing, he remembered the last time he felt like this. The last time he walked down these very sidewalks as he stared to the ground. That last time he felt his world was slowly coming apart at the seams. The last time he knew true pain.
Last Halloween. Angel's funeral.
Now the pain was even greater than before. His heart burned his chest, causing his breathing to become nothing more than sporadic heaves. 'Watch your shoes, Roger' he thought to himself. 'Don't think about her'. He couldn't remember why he ever agreed to get out of his comforting bed and face this bitter morning. Then he felt it; a warmth on his shoulders. An arm held him close and comforted him. Roger looked up and saw his savior through the hot tears filling his eyes. He saw the outline of his dark rimmed glasses; glasses that held two of the most caring and gentle eyes Roger had ever laid eyes on. The eyes that could only be compared to one other's. Her eyes. Oh God, her eyes. 'Don't think about her, Roger' he inwardly begged.
Everyone who knew Roger knew how truly difficult he was when it came to showing any amount of emotion. His tragically beautiful green eyes held so much pain and sorrow in the, but he'd never let anyone in to share his grief. Everything changed for him last Christmas. When he sang his deeply romantic song to his dying bright-eyed girl, he let everyone feel his heart bleeding. It didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that his sweet girl could know a fraction of what she meant to him. All that mattered was that her bright shining eyes could glow once more with the utter devotion he felt for her. Her beautiful, sparkling eyes.
Roger felt the arm around him tighten it's grip as his shoulders shook from sobs. He shut his eyes so tightly, praying to whatever power must be that he could live in the darkness he found there. Without knowing it, he had been stopped and pulled into a warm embrace in the middle of the sidewalk. His voice cracked with his crying as he laid his head on the comforting shoulder. In what seemed like a far distance, he heard gentle words whispered in his ear. The arms that held him rocked him lightly to a silent lullaby.
"Do you want to go back?" asked the soft voice. "You don't have to go."
What a decision to have to make. On one hand, Roger could face the sinister truth, a truth that threatened his own life as well. On the other hand, he could hide from his pain, pack up and leave, and disconnect. It seemed like a losing situation from any angle. Then he heard, in the back of his mind, the sweet testimony of his angel. 'The heart may freeze, or it can burn. The pain will ease if I can learn. There is no future. There is no past. I live this moment as my last.". He knew what he had to do. His eyes met those of his savior once more.
" I need to go."
If at all possible, the building seemed colder than the October breeze outside. It was a dreary old building that instantly put everyone in a mellow mood. The walls were painted with a dull tan color, mismatching the dark blue color of the chairs spread throughout the rooms. Mark walked in first, holding Roger's hand. He squeezed Roger's hand when everyone attending had stopped their hushed whispers to stare at him. They all pitied him, Roger knew, but he wanted nothing to do with their sympathy. He wasn't even comforted when Collins approached him, followed by Maureen and Joanne. They each gave him a sad smile.
"It'll be okay, Roger." Collins said as he patted Roger's arm. Roger could only keep his eyes fixed on the ground and hold onto Mark's hand tighter.
"Benny wanted to be here" Maureen said. "He just,…"
"Yeah" Mark replied for Roger. Everyone knew Benny wouldn't dare come, not after what he put Roger and Mimi through.
"Maybe he'll come tomorrow for the funeral." Maureen stated without pause. There, she had said it. Roger couldn't deny what was ringing in the air. Tomorrow was the funeral. Tomorrow was the day to pay final respects to a young girl who died to soon. Tomorrow was Mimi's funeral.
Roger choked out a cry as Mark once again embraced his friend. If it wasn't for Mark, Roger would have been long gone by now. Mark shot a glare at Maureen for having brought on this sudden outburst, but was immediately hushed by the look of regret on her face. He rocked Roger back and forth for a minute longer before slowly letting him go.
"Do you wanna go see her?" Mark asked. Roger's eyes stared intently into his own, the only person he'd make eye contact with. Roger looked as though he were thinking for a minute before breaking the silence.
"Yeah."
Roger held out his hand, breaking Mark's heart as he took it and led him to the center of the room. Beautiful flowers surrounded the tiny coffin on all ends, making it appear more like a water color painting than a memorial. Mark reached the coffin first, peering down at the still form below. He could barely breathe, not just seeing her so still and pale, but knowing Roger would have to see the same.
'And someday you'll have to see Roger the same' Mark thought. That was too much for him; he turned his head and kept it focused on Roger. Today he wasn't going to let his own selfish fears and doubts get in the way. Nothing mattered today but comforting Roger. Roger needed him, now more than ever. As Roger finally came up beside him, he kept that in mind.
Time stood still. The room seemed to spotlight on the tall blonde haired man and how his eyes looked down at his little angel. He didn't sob, only a few hot tears ran down his cheeks. Without a word, he brought up his hand and gently caressed her cheek. Then he moved his hand down to hold her own. It was so cold, so much colder than he remembered his beautiful girl with the sweet smile. He closed his eyes and kissed the back of her hand.
"I'll always love you." he whispered.
He looked to Mark, who nodded.
"Let's go home." Mark said, leading a broken Roger behind him out the door.
