Title: Who I Am Hates Who I've Been
Summary: Years of wear and tear, and Collins has had enough of Mark's façade.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Tragedy, unresolved Mark/Roger
Warnings: Anger can make us all curse like a sailor.
Authors Note: Written while listening to Relient K's "Who I Am Hates Who I've Been" and going through PMS-inspired depression.
Disclaimer: I rent RENT.

Reverberating Footsteps

"I'm worried about him, pookie." Maureen paces in front of the window at the loft.

Mimi paints her nails a metallic blue while sitting on the metal table. Joanne stands with Maureen, trying to calm her down .Collins stands in the doorway and smile. Angel and Roger look down on them.

"What is he going to do with the loft? Sell it?"

He laughs at Joanne, "Mark wouldn't sell this place for anything."

"Do you think he'll let me take some of his stuff?"

Collins been preparing himself for this question, and praying to whoever the hell is in charge of life that it wouldn't come. With a sad smile, he asks, "The truth, Meems?"

She shakes her head, "Yeah."

And then a sigh, "No. He won't let anyone touch his things."

Her voice is small, like she's committed a crime, "…Do you think I can take some before he notices?"

To Mark, that is a crime, "He'll notice."

Mimi sighs and twists the cap of the fingernail polish back on, "Yeah, I know…I was just hoping that maybe…maybe…no. I have enough of him. He always gave me more than enough."

It's a mourning day, and Collins figures it would be rude to correct her. He doesn't want to be rude and break the news to her that, "Actually, Mimi, Roger gave you just enough. He gave Mark more than enough."

Instead, the philosopher smiles weakly and pushes himself off of the frame, "I'll run down to the Food Emporium. You guys want anything?" They shake their heads. "Be back soon."

"Still haven't left?"

He laughs, almost cruelly, "I was waiting for you, don't you know?"

"Planning on coming back anytime soon?"

He can't make out Mark's face, but he knows the tears are there. It's as if he can feel them.

"Why him? He owes me so much, Collins."

"I know, man. I know."

"Does that make me a bad person? Is it bad that I'm pissed at him?"

"Of course not, Mark. You have a right to be angry with him. Withdrawal, April, Mimi…you were there for it all."

The real reason Mark isn't a bad person is because the only reason he's pretending to be angry is because he can deal with anger.

The way Mark figures it is he can deal with anger because it keeps Roger alive—if he's angry at Roger, then Roger can't just slip away. Anger is the one emotion the heart cannot overcome unless it's resolved. And how can Mark resolve his anger with Roger if Roger isn't here?

The way Mark figures it, the heart can overcome missing and mourning. If Mark missed Roger and mourned Roger, his heart would soon rebuild itself and Roger would be a memory.

Of course, none of this is true. Roger will never be just a memory to Mark, never just a thing of his past. But that's how it plays out in Mark's head. That's how Mark figures it.

"Can I tell you what does make me a bad person, Collins?"

"Of course."

"If I could do it all again…I would. In a heartbeat."

"Mark, that doesn't make you a bad—"

"Yes it does. It makes me selfish," His voice shakes with anger, not towards Roger but towards himself, as he spits the words out. But, just as fast as he had been angry, he's whispering as though he doesn't want me to hear him, "I would put Roger through all of that hell, all of that pain, just so I could have those moments with him."

If he stays here anymore, he'll tear himself apart.

This isn't the Mark Cohen he knew two years ago. The Mark Cohen he knew two years ago was angry with April for pulling Roger back into heroin, but keeping his emotions to himself. The Mark Cohen Collins knew two years ago was there every minute of every day for Roger physically, but distanced himself emotionally.

The Mark he knew two years ago was willing to drag Roger out of a club while he was drunk, or high, or both. He watched Roger slowly fall back into his drug addiction, not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice.

And because of that, the Mark Cohen that Collins knew two years ago was going through withdrawal. Withdrawal from his new found comfort in Roger, withdrawal from the nights he had a warm body beside him while he slept.

The Mark Cohen he knew two years ago was slowly pulling himself out of life, distancing himself from all of us as he lived through us and through his movies.

He pretended to be okay, to be fine and calm and collected, even though he wasn't.

Years are nothing but hell.