Note: I don't own RENT or "Sweetheart" by Lamb. All of their original songs seem to be exclusively written for Collins and Angel, it kinda amazes me, they're worth a listen. Especially this one, "Gabriel", "What Sound", and "Gorecki" (which I'm planning on using for Are We the Waiting). And just a heads up I call Angel a "he" in this although I usually don't. Somehow I think it fits better here. Thanks for reading.
the devil makes work
for idle hands to do
he can take these hands
if they're not touching you
His body was sprawled on the couch. One hand covering his eyes. One hand on a bottle of Stoli. Collins was always a good drinker. Everyone knew it. It was one of the first things that people learned about him. One, that his laugh was infectious. Two, he was never too far away from a bottle of some sort of alcohol. Preferably Stoli, but he wasn't picky. His fingertips ran themselves up and down the clear glass. It wasn't the same. Almost as smooth, but no warmth. Only cold.
and these lips of mine
would rather turn to stone
than kiss another now that you are gone
Collins lifted the bottle to meet his lips. Closing his eyes as the liquid slipped down his throat. The intensity shot to his head, but he kept his lips to the glass. Hoping that somehow the material would change. That they would become his lips. The ones that warmed him in the night, that made him feel loved. At the thought of it, Collins downed the rest of the bottle ignoring his tearing eyes. A mix from the fervor of the drink and the sting of the memories. When it was empty, he finally let his lips pull back. His eyes studied the clear material as if he wanted to remember every curve and edge. Just how he knew his body. Every rise and fall of skin, every feature, every birthmark, every part of him. Collins threw the bottle with a new found force at the wall. It shattered throwing small particles of glass throughout the apartment. His apartment. The yellow walls and the red curtains. It was still bright even though he was gone. Collins had decided long ago to always leave the lights off.
sweetheart
i'm so alone
sweetheart
when are you coming home
His hands went up to his face rubbing his eyes and then his ears. The sound of the smashing glass against the wall echoed in his head for a moment. No other sounds were in the apartment, even the streets of New York seemed to be silent. Collins winced as complete silence reigned, the echo now gone. He pulled himself up from the couch struggling to maintain his balance. When he did, he slipped on a pair of boots kicking away two other empty bottles of Stoli. Collins stopped at the door and turned back to look at his picture. He was smiling gently and looking as gentle, loving, and dignified as ever.
Collins now looked at the door trying to quiet his breath, struggling to hear heels running up the stairs. A song being sung by Latino lips, many of the words would be improvised, but they always seemed to fit the melody. Collins backed away from the door imagining it opening and that smile there to great him. Lips to devour. Arms to fall into. A heart to beat with.
But there was nothing in front of him. Just an empty space. Collins pulled open the door and locked it behind him.
sweetheart
i'm so alone
sweetheart
when are you coming home
Roger tapped his fingertips on arm of the couch. He looked up at the clock and sighed. Mark sat on the chair staring at the floor.
"Maybe he lost track of time." The man mumbled to his friend. Although he said this, his eyes never left the floor.
Roger pulled himself off of the couch, "That excuse…lost its worth about three hours ago." He rushed over to the phone dialing Collins' number. The phone was smacked down to the receiver when there was no answer. Roger turned to Mark his face covered with worry.
"You don't think…maybe he got mugged again?" Mark whimpered knowing that Angel wouldn't be there to save him this time. Roger ignored the question and threw Mark's coat at him. The jacket was soon on his shoulders, his scarf tied tightly around his neck. Roger zipped up his leather jacket and headed out of the loft.
i know that love's
a many splendored thing
it loses it's spark
without the joy you bring
He let his hand linger on building after building of New York. Feeling the roughness, the texture. His eyes were fixed on the empty space ahead of him. A couple found their way into Collins' view. The woman giggling and nuzzling her head against her man's shoulder. The man leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips gently. They weren't looking where they were going, too interested in each other. Collins didn't even blink when he collided with the couple. The woman and man ended up on the ground, Collins just walked on as if it had never happened.
and happiness
can be an empty term
but i've found heaven nestling in your arms and now you're gone
His image danced in front of Collins. Laughing and blowing him kisses. He would run to Collins, but he would always fade just as he was about to touch him. Collins gasped with hope leaning his head out to meet his fingertips. But the phantom hand went through his skin. No contact was allowed. But the figure still smiled and danced just for him. That's how it had always been. Only for him.
Collins reached out his hand to meet him instead. Desperate, to simply feel the person who made everything all right. That made life worth every breath. The figure shook his head with a giggle twirling down the street. Glowing in the lamplight. A coaxing finger moved Collins into an alley. Away from the people on the street. Away from the light.
sweetheart
i'm so alone
sweetheart
when are you coming home
His back slammed up against the brick wall. Remembering the feel of his lips on his neck. Collins leaned his head over yearning for more. Just one real kiss, one real contact. Collins' hand went to the end of his shirt almost feeling his smaller hands slipping underneath and stroking the muscles there. In the end, it was just a chill reaching Collins' vulnerable skin. With the realization, he let his body collapse onto the ground. Collins' arms reached out and up to see his face again. A young man asking, "Are you ok, honey?"
"No." Collins coughed as his whole body began to tremble at the cold. The absence of warmth on his skin.
sweetheart
i'm so alone
sweetheart
when are you coming home
"Should we call the girls?" Mark questioned as they dashed through the streets looking for any sign of Collins.
Roger shook his head, "No. Mimi needs her rest. Maureen and Joanne…"
"They found Mimi." Mark pointed out. Roger stopped his movement and met eyes with Mark filled with a new fear, "Call them…they can stop by his apartment…look for…" His friends' eyes went wide when he followed his thought process.
"You don't think he…not after what April…he wouldn't do that to you. Any of us." Mark said quietly biting the bottom of his lips. He looked up into the traffic, "He was doing so well. Of course he was sad but…he was okay."
"He was staying strong for us…he was bound to break." Roger whispered. He pushed Mark lightly in the direction of the payphone, "Call them. I'll keep looking." Roger ran off screaming his friend's name.
sweetheart
i'm so alone
sweetheart
when are you coming home
Maureen bent down in front of the doorknob forcing a bobby pin into the lock. Joanne wrung her hands mumbling a prayer under her mouth. If this was a normal occasion they each would have asked questions. Joanne, how Maureen learned how to pick locks. Maureen, if and when Joanne had found religion. However, their minds were elsewhere with the imaginary form of Collins' lifeless body.
"Got it." Maureen said pushing open the door a crack. She glanced over at Joanne who took her hand.
"Whatever we find…" Joanne started to say her throat closing up at the thought.
Maureen refused to believe it, "Maybe he's sleeping. And he'll get a kick out off all of this you know. A big laugh and then we'll laugh along."
"He always had an infectious laugh." Joanne whispered twitching at her own word choice.
They squeezed each other's hands and went in together. Joanne jumped back almost stepping on the bottles of Stoli. With a deep breath she went to look in every room, finding nothing. Maureen went up to the wall, making note of the glass particles at her feet. Then she went to the door.
"His boots are gone." She said in a monotone voice. Joanne came back into the living room her eyes on the empty alcohol bottles. He always was a good drinker, she thought to herself.
sweetheart
i'm so alone
sweetheart
when are you coming home
Mark rushed through the crowds forgetting to say "excuse me" as he bumped into multiples of people.
"Roger!" He called out after his friend who was a few blocks ahead. Roger turned and ran to meet him, "Maureen and Joanne said…he wasn't there. His boots were gone. And there were lots of empty bottles of alcohol."
Roger nodded without saying a word and titled his head towards the unexamined alleys. Mark wiped his face and followed him, "Wait…" Mark said grabbing a hold of Roger's coat.
"I have an idea." He turned and ran towards the loft. Just as Mark turned Roger understood. The two friends ran at top speed.
"Collins!" Mark screamed as they reached the alley where Angel had saved Collins' life a year ago. Faint sounds of crying caught his ears. Mark spotted Collins form shaking furiously. Roger rushed into the alley dropping down to his friend's side.
"Collins, it's me and Mark. Roger and Mark." Roger put his hand on his shoulder, which caused Collins to press his body into the wall, hoping to melt into it.
"You're not real." Collins muttered holding his hands up as a shield, "It's all a lie. You're not here. You're not coming home to me."
Mark frowned and looked at Roger, "He's talking about Angel…" Collins winced at his name. Roger leaned out again taking his friends shoulders into his hands.
"It's Roger, Col. I'm sorry he's not coming back. But you're not alone. You have us." Roger replied firming his hold on Collins' shoulders.
"We're here for you…always." Mark said quickly.
Collins looked up at the two men before him, they were just fuzzy figures in the dark before. Now the sound of their voices made them come into focus, "Roger. Mark." Collins whispered holding out his arms. This time Roger took them from the cold.
"Yes. It's us. Come on, Collins. Let's get you home."
when are you coming home
Collins' eyes slowly rose to let a soft light in. The hangover hit him right away. The pain was immense but as he became aware of his surroundings, it seemed to subside. Roger sat in the window seat his eyes carefully monitoring the rise and fall of Collins' chest. Mark gently switched the wet washcloth on his head for a newer one. Joanne took the old one from Mark and wrung it out in the sink with Maureen by her side. Benny stood in the doorway his fingers rolling a sole nickel back and both. Mimi was sitting beside Collins rubbing his hand slowly.
"Morning, sleepyhead. You slept till four in the afternoon. I think that might be a new record." She smirked at him.
Collins winced at the throbbing in his head and whispered quietly, "I always strive to achieve."
Benny smiled coming closer, "Show off."
Collins looked around the room at his friends gathered, "Guys, I…" Joanne shook her head walking over with Maureen.
"Don't. You don't have to explain. Everyone has a bad day." She replied with a sympathetic smile.
Maureen agreed saying, "I have a whole lot. Just ask her." She pointed to Joanne who nodded a bit too eagerly, her girlfriend shot her a good-natured glare.
"Just as long as you're safe now. That's all that matters." Roger said moving away from the window seat and over towards the couch.
Collins grinned slowly and said, "I'm flattered guys…thank you…but that's not what I was going to say. I was…could I stay here for a while? At the loft?"
Mark and Roger said immediately, "Of course." Collins chuckled a bit at their impeccable timing.
Mark put his hands in his pockets, "You're always welcome, Collins. This is your home. We're all your home…" His eyes dropped realizing that one of them was gone. The one Collins cherished above them all.
Mimi placed her hand on the skin covering Collins' heart, "He's here you know. He loved you too damn much to ever leave you completely. He'll never leave you." Tears formed in Collins' eyes knowing it was all too true.