1I believe every Angel/Collins fangirl is allowed to write at least two tragic death-related fics. This is, like, my twelfth. Oops.
Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. RENT.
Dance Inside
By Donna
"I used to have a relationship with my dad," Angel whispered, his voice hoarse.
Collins looked up, nodding.
"Yeah... that didn't last," Angel snarled. "Before I told him I was gay he was really nice, though. Like... like when I was really little, you know what he did?"
"What?"
"He used to dance with me. Like... uhm..." Angel tried to get up. Collins helped him up and they stood. "Okay?"
"Like this," Angel said. He put his socked feet over Collins' boots and grabbed to Collins tightly. Collins held him tight, making sure he wouldn't get hurt. "And he'd move and I'd just follow him on his toes... literally."
Collins smiled. "Like this?" He began to move back and forth, Angel's feet glued to his own. Angel smiled. "Yeah. Just like that."
They sailed around the room in silence. Angel watched Collins, waiting for something to happen.
Collins began to hum softly, then sing, "Live in my house... I'll be you shelter..."
Angel shook his head, leaning on Collins' chest. "Come on, Collins, we know... we know..."
They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Collins picked Angel up and held him close. "You look exhausted."
"It's just the medication," Angel whispered.
Collins nodded. "R-right."
He moved Angel back to the couch and looked to the window. Someday they wouldn't be confined to dancing inside, but that day was not today.
END