Post Rent MR friendship eventually more. M for language/content/angst etc just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I don't own Mark, Roger or any other RENT related items. I settle for the DVD and the soundtrack. and my stories of course.
Roger's POV. Constructive Criticism rocks my world….
"Roger?" Mark called from the doorway of the loft. He had just come in from a morning of filming, returning earlier than usual, but I thought nothing of it. He sounded a little out of breath but I didn't realize that until later either.
"Yeah." I answered from my room where I was working on some lyrics.
"I couldn't carry my bike anymore, it's down at Mimi's old place if you wouldn't mind getting it later."
I laid my guitar down on the bed and rushed out to meet him. Mark had always been on the thin side, but he'd always held his own, how could he suddenly be too weak to carry his ancient bicycle upstairs, like he'd been doing since the day he moved into the loft? Something was definitely wrong.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hovering over him where he lay on the worn couch. His pale frame shook despite the fact he was still wearing his coat and scarf.
"Fuck, what the hell happened man?" I had a feeling what the problem was. I remembered the shake and the look in his eyes from Angel and Mimi. Mark had HIV, and it was advanced. How had I not noticed how much weight he lost? How sick he looked? It was now I remembered the shivering every night, I assumed was from the lack of heat, and the nasty cough he had developed wasn't just a cold. Even though I knew all this, I wanted him to tell me himself.
"Mark?"
He just whimpered softly, closing his ocean blue eyes.
I took his clammy hands in mine, perching on the edge of the couch by his feet.
"Mark. Tell me what happened."
He shook his head ever so slightly.
"You'll get mad." He whispered, breaking into a cough.
"Why the hell would I get mad, Mark?" I said softly, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead.
"You needed AZT. After April. During withdrawal. We were broke as hell. Before Buzzline and stuff." He spoke in fragmented sentences, taking deep breaths after each.
"No!" I nearly screamed, realizing what he meant. It was either drugs or sex, maybe both. How could I have been so blind? The withdrawal that dominated my life pushed my best friend into this? I killed Mark. Maybe not directly, but it was my fault he was dying now. It was my fault he would never be a famous filmmaker. It was my fault he had the dreaded disease that followed us all everyday in this huge city. Tears were slipping down both our faces now.
"Mark, you didn't!"
He tried to turn away from me, but I pulled him onto my lap, holding him while he wept.
"Shhh. It's going to be okay, baby. We can get through this, you just need some sleep and some AZT."
He didn't say anything.
"How long have you known?"
He took a few breaths before answering, tears still staining his flushed cheeks.
"I got tested right after Angel died, right after you went to Santa Fe. I knew something was wrong but I didn't want anyone to worry, or anyone to know. Everything kind of fell apart then, so everyone was distracted."
I shook my head in disbelief.
"Damn it, Mark why didn't you tell me? Better yet, why the hell would you risk getting HIV for me? I'm not fucking worth it!"
"You're my best friend, and you had enough to worry about. I knew you would say you weren't worth it and give me the AZT. I didn't want you to die and leave me alone. " He fell into a coughing fit, and I rubbed his thin back and waited until it subsided before continuing.
"That covers why you didn't tell me, but why did you do it in the first place?" I said, still floored by his selflessness.
"You needed the AZT, I didn't want to push you into getting a job with the withdrawal and everything, that was hard enough. I thought I was being safe, I always used protection, I guess I just wasn't safe enough. It was only for a couple of months anyway."
"Months?" I said, nothing surprising me anymore.
"Yeah, remember that 'piece' I was working on for that 'contest', for such a long time at strange hours of the day?"
I nodded.
"No such piece, no such contest."
I inhaled, trying not to lose my temper. I was angry but more than that I was sorry. I was sorry that I had been so selfish, and sorry I had taken Mark for granted all this time.
"Roger?" Mark whispered, breaking me out of my thoughts
"Yeah?" I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"Don't ever be sorry Mark, I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am. I really, really am."
"It's ok."
"No, it's not. But I'm going to try my best to get you better and make it up to you."
"I'm kinda tired." He said trying to stifle a yawn.
"I'm sure you are, come on let's get you to bed. I'll go get another thing of AZT and some food, while you sleep, if you'll be okay."
He nodded, and I scooped up his body before he had a chance to protest, depositing him in his bed. I hurriedly pulled the blankets off my own bed, and tucked him in.
"Night, Mark." I sighed, taking off his glasses for him.
Mark sighed back, already falling asleep. I watched his chest rise and fall, trying to assure myself he wasn't going to die while I was gone. He didn't deserve this, but I was going to try to make it right.
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