To Be

DISCLAIMER: I do not own RENT or anything affiliated with it.

Mark sat on the edge of his hotel room bed, listening to the telephone ring on the other end of the line. "SPEAK."

"Hey it's Mark. Someone pick up," he said. He waited for a moment, hoping someone would pick up. "Hello? Is anyone home?" He waited a little bit longer before sighing. "I guess I'll call back later. I miss you guys." He hung up the phone and looked around the small hotel room. It was comfortable, but it wasn't home. And for the first time in his life, he was homesick.

Mark rolled over and stared at the alarm clock, trying to decipher the numbers without his glasses. He still hadn't slept at all. He jumped as the phone rang, before picking it up. "Hello?" he asked, reaching up and pushing the hair out of his face.

"Mark? It's Roger."

"Hey man, what's up?" Mark asked.

"Sorry I wasn't here earlier. Some shit came up," Roger told him.

"What's going on?"

"I was down with Mimi… she's catching a cold," Roger replied. "Someone had to stay with her until I could get hold of Maureen. Mimi told me that if I came anywhere near her before she got better, she'd kill me," Roger joked.

"You don't need to get sick too," Mark said.

"I know. I've been lucky so far." Mark heard him sigh. "How are things going out there?"

"Okay. They're showing the documentaries starting tomorrow," Mark told him. "How are you holding up?"

"I'll be okay. Don't worry about me," Roger replied. Mark heard him sigh again. "I'm going to go to sleep, okay? I haven't slept since we got home last night. You could use some sleep too, I'm sure."

"Yeah. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. 'Night, Mark."

"Night."

Joanne looked at her watch once again, praying Mark's plane would be on time. She kept one eye on the board that announced arrivals as she answered her cell phone. By the time she'd managed to put out a minor emergency at the office, Mark's plane had been on the ground for five minutes. She looked around, praying he would show up soon.

"Joanne?" Mark asked, walking up to her. She smiled at him.

"Hey, Mark. Have fun?" she asked.

"Yeah. I thought Roger was going to be here," Mark told her.

"He's with Mimi," Joanne said. "At the hospital."

"When did that happen?" Mark asked.

"This morning."

"I talked to Maureen this morning," Mark told her.

"We didn't want you to worry the whole way home," Joanne explained. She led him toward the baggage claim area. He followed her. She took his suitcase off of the carousel and led him out to the car she'd obviously borrowed from her parents.

"How bad is it?" he asked, as they got into the car. Joanne sighed.

"She put it off as long as she could. Her cold developed into pneumonia… it doesn't look good," Joanne admitted. Mark just nodded.

"How's Roger taking it?"

"Better than you'd think. I think he's been preparing himself for this for a while," Joanne told him. She started the car and the two of them headed for the hospital.

Mark stood in the doorway, watching his best friend cry. They'd just gotten home from the hospital, where they'd stayed for two days. Mark took a deep breath before walking into the room. He put his good arm around Roger's shoulders and held him as he cried. After a while, the tears stopped flowing and Roger's shoulders stopped shaking. His sobs ceased as he looked up at Mark.

"Thanks," Roger muttered. He pulled away from Mark's hug and walked out to the windows in the main room of the loft.

"No problem," Mark replied. He followed Roger, going into the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee. He put out their mugs and waited for the coffee to perk. He poured it out and handed a mug to Roger. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I sort of expected it, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But I also know it still hurts, even when you're expecting it," Mark replied. He sat down next to Roger by the window and the two looked out. "She'd be upset if she thought you were wallowing."

"I just need some time to get used to it… to not having her there. To not being able to watch her every night, trying to protect her from the creeps," Roger told him. Mark just nodded.

"She's good, now. She's safe… away from all of the creeps. And she's watching us, just like Angel." Roger just nodded as Mark talked.

"It was just so fast. With Angel, we had time to really say goodbye," Roger said. Mark nodded.

"Yeah, we did. But we had more time with Mimi before she got sick. You made her last few years great, you know? She was really happy with you," Mark said. "That's all you can do, some times. You did what you could for her."

"I should have been the one to go first… it was my turn to get sick, not hers," Roger told him.

"You've been lucky so far, Roger. She was just too sick to fight it this time," Mark replied. "It was just her time, you know?"

"It didn't have to be her time to go. If I'd kept her home…" Roger began.

"She would have resented you. You couldn't have stopped her if you'd wanted to, Roger, and you know it. She might have been small, but she was even more hardheaded than you," Mark reminded him. They both glanced out the window.

"What are we going to do now? We can't exactly afford a funeral," Roger said.

"I've got some money. We'll be okay," Mark said.

"You can't work right now. I'll be lucky if they don't fire me for missing so much work. Where are we going to get money to buy food from?" Roger asked him.

"I sold my films. I'm still taking them to Sundance, but someone at one of the distributing companies was really impressed. He bought them both," Mark said. "It's a pretty nice advance, plus royalties when it starts playing."

"I can't take your money, Mark," Roger replied.

"You aren't. It's for Mimi."