Author Note: I haven't written any fanfics in a long time time. I haven't really written much of anything in half a year. My characterization is a bit rusty and so are my writing skills. I have this entire story planned out already, one of the first times I've ever done that. I'm hoping to have it finished before I go back to school in mid January. I used to be a frequent updater way back in the day and I'd like to try to get back to that. This story is Mimi/Roger. Don't leave me reviews that say things like "Oh thank GOD no slash!" I'm a slasher. If you don't like slash, don't read it. Stop acting like it's the end of the damn world if people slash them.

I guess I'm still as bitchy as ever. I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh well. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own RENT. Am not affiliated with it in any way.

Trusting Desire
Chapter One – Starting to Learn
Roger's POV

She's crying again, sweating in my arms and beating against my chest. She screams in my ears and tries to shove me, clawing at my shirt and crying, crying, crying.

It's fucking scary to see sweet, strong, passionate little Mimi reduced to the shaking banshee fighting against my embrace. It doesn't end, either. We'll go a few hours, sometimes even an entire day of the girl I had grown accustomed to and moments later I'll have to pin her to our bed to keep her from slipping out of the loft.

"One hit, baby. Please, please, please."

Her voice is agony for me. I would never have wanted her to feel pain like I had, but neither of us could live if she kept going on the same way. She didn't have to beg me to agree to help her, but all I remembered from my withdrawal was the pain and the desire and the sad, empty desperation. I didn't have rehab either, and I realize now that I had never thought of my withdrawal from Mark's perspective.

All that time I was yelling and throwing things and punching him and begging him to help me, I never once thought what it might be like to watch it first hand. I never imagined what seeing someone in that much pain, let alone someone I cared about, could do to me emotionally. Every time Mimi falls against me begging me to buy her drugs I feel a dull, distant pull in my chest. When her cheeks are stained with her tears and her big brown eyes are red and sore my breath catches in my throat for a few seconds. All my smiles are forced. I can't stop my voice from cracking when I tell her she'll be all right. I can't stop my hands from shaking when I run my fingers through her damp hair.

"One… just one!" She screams at me again, sobbing. She tries to pull away from me and for a moment slips through my grip. I frantically make a grab at her wrists but miss and am forced to get up off of the bed and wrap my arms around her from behind. She struggles, her elbows in my stomach and her little feet kicking at my knees as I lift her and carry her back to the bed.

"No, Mimi…" My voice falters and I have to swallow and refocus, trying to ignore her nails in my skin.

"If you loved me, Roger. If you loved me, you'd let me." She says, her voice coming weaker now, and I can tell we're reaching a calmer spot for the day. I sigh heavily, needing the break. I hesitantly loosen my grip on her and she remains motionless in her spot on the bed. I move closer to her and rest my head against hers. She closes her eyes and relaxes completely in my arms. Words fail me completely and when I know she is asleep I slip out of the bed and out of the room, hoping Mark is around.

Mark is in the kitchen, staring into a cup of tea. He gestures to the extra he made and relieved I pour myself some even though I don't really like tea. I lean next to him and he chances a look over at me. My eyes meet his and there is an awkward moment between us. He clears his throat and swishes the tea around in his cup, looking away quickly.

"So uh, how's…"

"You can hear it, Mark." I say, cutting him off. The exhaustion and irritation in my voice surprises me as well as him. I feel my face burning and try to shrug off my anxiety.

"She's ok, you know, sometimes." I start out with. The words fall between us uselessly. Mark looks back over at me. I shrug. We both try to ignore what's really happening. Almost two months of this and neither one of us has spoken a damn word about it. I stare defiantly into my tea for a few more moments as Mark sighs and dumps the rest of his out into the sink and picks up his camera.

"I'm going out." He tells me as he passes.

"Mark." I say without thinking.

He turns, walking backwards a couple steps before stopping completely. Waiting.

"I just think that..." No. "Well, really I wanted to…" No. I sigh before trying again.

"Mark, I need to…"

"Hey." He says, cutting me off. I look up, slightly annoyed at his interruption until I see him smile and shake his head.

"I know, Roger." He tells me. And then I hear Mimi's voice calling me from our room. I nod, setting down the tea I didn't really want anyway and heading back to Mimi. I feel his hand on my shoulder and as I'm turning he wraps his arms around me. I just want to collapse against him for awhile, too drained to do much else, but I'm needed elsewhere.

"She'll be alright." Mark says, pulling away finally. "You can handle this."

I nod to him as he's leaving the loft. I realize as he leaves that even though he doesn't need to hear me thank him for helping me with my withdrawal, I still feel the need to say it. I'm sure he's known all along that I meant to tell him before. And I'm sure that I really honestly did mean to tell him… I just never got around to it. I frown then, suddenly angry with myself. As much as I'd like to think that Mimi is just a bad case and that I was much easier to handle I know it's not true. And knowing me, it was probably much worse. Not to mention that both Mimi and Mark are about half my size, which means that Mimi can't beat me up, but I could probably have done a good deal of damage to Mark. Which I know I did.

Which makes me feel terrible as I open the door to the room and Mimi is sitting upright on our bed. She only looks tired when I see her, which is quite a change from her recent behavior.

"You were gone." She whispers, her voice small, tired. I force a smile and climb into the bed beside her. Her hair is still damp with sweat as her arms slide around my neck, the length of her body pressing all the way down against mine. I hold her tightly, burying my face in her hair and listening to her shallow breathing against my skin.

"I was just talking to Mark." My words lost in her hair.

"Okay." Her voice muffled in my chest.

Her withdrawal continued for another few months, but the worst of it was over that night.

Mimi squeezes my side to wake me up. She gets impatient when I sleep too late. I groan at her and turn over, determined to ignore her for once. She flops onto my back, pressing her chin against my shoulder, her arms wrapping around my waist.

"Roger, it's almost one. I wanna go out. Get up."

"You go out. I'll find you in a few hours." I grumble into the threadbare pillow.

"Roger…"

"I'm tired."

"Maybe you shouldn't stay up so late." She says, getting off of me and pushing on my shoulders one last time.

I sigh, turning onto my back to look up at her. "Maybe you shouldn't keep me up so late."

She smiles playfully at me, her eyes gleaming in a way they haven't for a very long time. Watching them flash at me from across the room I have to give in and get out of bed. I haven't seen my girl look this alive in months. Groaning melodramatically, I push the thin blanket off of me and drag myself up.

"Get dressed." She commands, dropping onto the bed. She rolls onto her stomach and stares up at me, one finger twirling around in her hair, while her feet kick absently in the air behind her. Crossing to the other side of the room I gently swat her ass and she kicks at me in response, grinning over her shoulder. I pull on a shirt and some jeans and when she turns away I grab her around her middle and pick her up to carry her out of the room. She laughs at me, her eyes glinting madly and adjusts her position so she can get her arms around my neck and hold onto me. I set her down near the door. She stamps impatiently when I head back into the loft instead of out.

"I'll be right out." I call to her, waving her away. I knock on Mark's door and hear a muffled voice telling me to come in. I open the door and Mark looks up for half a second, smiles and returns to his work.

"I'm going out with Mimi." I tell him and he nods before looking up again.

"Going out?" He asks, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose in surprise.

I grin. "Yeah, we're going out."

He returns my grin before again continuing with his film.

"Hey, Mark?"

Again he looks up, a slight smile, open expression.

"Thanks." I tell him and then close the door behind me on the way out. I pause for a moment, realizing that it took me practically two years to tell him. But I feel significantly better.

"Roger!"

I laugh to myself at Mimi impatiently yelling and then join her at the door, barely making it down the steps with her lips all over mine.