The Month of April
LiL Pippin Padfoot
Disclaimer: Do Not Own!
It had been three weeks. Three long weeks. Roger had thought many times about it. Whenever he woke up and took a shower, he'd open the cabinet to get his razor, and then stop. It actually was Mark's. When April had… died… the paramedics had taken the razor she had used, it was now 'contaminated'.
He reached his hand and picked it up. The light glinted off the edge. A couple of slices, and then… April. He held it to his skin…
"Roger?" a voice drifted in from the main room. "Are you okay? I picked up your AZT refill. Do you need some?"
Roger dropped the razor, realizing what he had almost done, what he would have done. He opened the grungy bathroom window, and pitched the razor out.
"What are you doing?" Mark asked, opening the window to find Roger hanging out of it. "It's freezing out there!"
Roger just smiled grimly. He'd have to explain to Mark why he owed him a razor, but right now, he'd be strong.
For April.