Disclaimer: Characters and everything RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson
Warnings: Rated R for situations and language
Author's Note: The absence of certain Bohemians (Collins, Joanne, and Mimi) will be explained in future chapters. And the chapter titles are all (hopefully) going to be lines from the musical.
Three nights later, Maureen had to work the late-shift at the Life Café. Roger ordered takeout and had it waiting when Mark returned from filming his newest project. The filmmaker tossed his jacket onto the couch and set the camera down gingerly atop it.
"You cooked?"
Roger laughed. "Fuck no. Ordered out."
"Cool. Thanks."
"No problem."
Mark joined him at the card table and fixed himself a plate. As they ate, Roger looked up at him from time to time. Mark set his fork down.
"What?"
"Nothing," Roger said, taking a gulp of his beer.
"Roger, you've got that look on your face."
"What look?"
"That 'I have to ask you for something but I don't know how to' look."
Roger sighed. "You know me too well, Cohen."
A beeper sounded. Roger turned it off, then grabbed the AZT bottle from the counter and took it with water from the tap.
"What is it then?"
Roger sat back down and looked at him, studying his face. "I have to ask you for something."
"Told you so."
"I'm serious."
"Okay. What is it?"
"You, um, when you told Maureen that you'd take care of her and the baby, did you mean it?"
"Yeah, of course. She's the only woman I've ever loved. And the kid's part of you and her both so I'll look out for him or her too."
"I want…I have to ask you for a serious favor."
"You said that part already."
"It's the biggest favor I've ever asked of you."
"Roger, whatever it is, would you just ask for it already?"
"I want you to be the baby's father."
"What?"
"I want you to-"
"No, I heard you. But, just, um…the baby's already got a father, Rog. You."
"Yeah, biologically. But we both know I might not be here when the baby's born. Even if I am, I won't be around to see it grow up."
Mark felt tears stinging his eyes. "Rog…"
"No, I can't do this to a kid, Mark. I know it's asking a lot, but you have to do this for me. I don't want my baby to grow up without a father. I-I just…it's bad enough that I might've already given the kid a terminal disease. I don't want it to have no dad on top of that."
"Maureen…"
"Will be a great mom. But she can't be a dad. You can. I want us to talk to her. I want you to be the father. The only father he or she knows. Least until the kid's old enough to understand."
"But—"
Roger shook his head, refusing to cry again. "No buts, Marky. Either you do it or you don't. But please, I'm asking you as a friend, please, please, do this."
Mark hesitated. "You know….it's funny. After Angel died, I wondered why I was the one to witness everything. Angel, you, Mimi…everyone. I think this is why…so I can tell your child."
"Will you?"
Mark nodded, tears slipping out from beneath his glasses. "One condition though."
"What?"
"You write a letter. To the kid. After he or she's born, which I believe in my heart you will be here to see, then you write the kid a letter. Say whatever you want in it, I don't care and I won't read it. But one day I'm going to tell that child who his or her father is and they deserve to have something from you to them."
