Warnings: HIV/AIDS, mentions of character death, mentions of gay marriage
I do not own RENT.
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Aftermath
Chapter Three: Prescription
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The first time he said it, they both froze.
His breath hitched in his throat; he had looked at her prescription lying on the table and said it without a thought. It was odd – it had been years, but the phrase stilled rolled off his tongue the same way.
She had her hand on the door handle, about to leave for work, because, after all, life doesn't stop for bad news. Part of her wanted to be angry, to turn around and tell him off for saying it, for reminding her that she wasn't normal anymore. But the rational part of her brain reminded her that he was right; she couldn't forget things like this anymore.
So she walked back over to the table and snatched up the half-filled bottle and then left without a word.
The second time he said it, she stiffened and bit her lip.
It was still awkward to be hearing those words again, after they thought they had left them in the graveyard with Roger so long ago. But here they were, back to haunt them.
He watched her for a moment, judging her reaction and then said, "You should take an extra jacket too."
She nodded, before taking the offered jacket and walking out of the loft.
She found herself walking down the streets in no particular direction. It had snowed the night before so it was chilly, but pleasantly so. The sky was overcast with the promise of more snow to come.
It was almost Christmas and the shops she found herself walking past reflected that. She peered into their red and green trimmed windows to look at the trinkets. A pair of blue satin slippers caught her eye and she thought, Maureen would like those.
She tried to shake the thought of her lover, but couldn't quite. She wondered what Maureen was doing now; was she thinking about her? She wondered if she'd picked up a prescription yet.
She fingered her own orange bottle that was sitting in her pocket as she moved on to the next window. This store was having a huge sweepstakes and they were giving away a cherry red convertible.
A memory replays in her mind of a night that she and Maureen spent making plans for forever. They had talked about buying a convertible – it had to be red, red like a cherry, because that was Maureen's favorite color – and they would drive were ever they felt like. They could drive to California and see the ocean, to Canada and get married, to Santa Fe and open a restaurant.
But now, all their talk of forever seemed so far away from the here and now. The freedom they once had was now replaced with a prison that had bars made of orange translucent bottles. And those three little words were a daily reminder of how everything had suddenly gone wrong.
She shook her head and kept walking, kept window-shopping for things she couldn't afford.
The third time he said it, she inhaled sharply.
They were getting more used to it now, falling into a familiar rhythm that hadn't been familiar for a long time.
He walked into the loft and she was sitting on that ratty old couch nursing a cup of steaming tea. He noticed the prescription on the table that she was staring at and he let himself say those words.
"Take your AZT."
Joanne looked down at the couch, but after a moment looked back up at Mark. She gave him the faintest trace of a smile.
"I will."
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Words: 595
This was written for speedrent challenge 200, which was to choose four past challenges, one from each section of fifty challenges and the ones I chose were challenges 27 (write a Mark/Joanne fic, romance or friendship), 67 (prison), 143 (cherry red convertible), 175 (half, snow, window shopping, slippers).
So yeah. I have ideas for this, but it may or may not be continued. Just depends on whether I get inspired and how much time I have with school starting next week.
Review, please.
Dymond