To Be
DISCLAIMER: I do not own RENT or anything affiliated with it.
Roger stood in the door of Mark's room, watching Mark cough. "Are you okay?" Roger asked, as soon as Mark stopped coughing.
"Yeah. It's just a cold," Mark said, taking a drink of water. "Just stay away for a while."
"You need anything?" Roger asked.
"Could you bring me some more water?"
"Sure," Roger replied. He went into the kitchen and got another glass of water, before bringing it back and putting it just inside the doorway. "Call me if you need anything." He shut the door and went back into his own room, leaving his door open in case Mark needed him.
Roger woke up as he heard someone out in the main part of the loft. He got up and walked out, looking to see who it was. "Mark? You okay?" he asked, noticing the man sitting on the couch. He started to walk over towards Mark.
"I'm okay. Go back to bed, Roger," Mark said. He stood back up and started walking towards the bathroom again. He stopped and started coughing, leaning against the wall. Roger started to help him, but he shook his head. "Stay… away."
"Mark, maybe I should take you to the doctor in the morning," Roger said, staying back. Mark shook his head again, catching his breath.
"No. I'll be okay," Mark told him.
"What if it's pneumonia again?" Roger asked.
"I don't think it is," Mark said, walking into the bathroom. Roger waited for him to come out. "Roger, just go to bed. I'm fine."
"Not until you're in bed." Mark sat down on the couch again, too tired to get back to his room.
"I'm just going to stay here for a while," Mark said.
"You're too tired to get back to your room, aren't you?" Roger asked. Mark closed his eyes and nodded before starting to cough again. Roger waited until he was done and walked over, picking Mark up. "Come on," he said, carrying his friend back to the bed. He covered Mark up and walked out.
"Thanks, Rog," Mark said, closing his eyes. Roger nodded and shut the door before walking back into his own room.
LINELINELINELINE
Roger picked up the phone and started to dial Maureen and Joanne's number, but stopped when he heard Mark coughing. He walked over and opened the door to his room, checking on him. Roger waited for him to stop. "You okay?" Roger asked.
"Yeah," Mark said, grabbing for the glass of water. Even from across the room, Roger could hear that he was having trouble breathing.
"Do you want me to call someone?" Roger asked.
"No, I'm okay," Mark said, putting the water down.
"You sound like shit," Roger replied. "You really need to go to the doctor, Mark."
"I'll be okay, Roger," Mark said. Roger could tell by the look on his face that even carrying on a simple conversation was tiring him out. He watched as Mark closed his eyes again.
"Mark, you're having trouble breathing. And don't even try to tell me you aren't, because I can hear it from all the way over here," Roger said. He walked into the room and picked the thermometer up off of the nightstand. He handed it to Mark, who sighed and stuck it in his mouth. They waited for it to beep in silence. Finally it beeped, and Roger took it from him. "Fuck. That's it, you're going to the doctor." Roger rummaged through Mark's clothes until he found something for his friend to wear. He threw the shirt and jeans onto the bed. "Come on, you've got to get dressed."
"Roger, please," Mark said. "I don't need a doctor."
"You have a fever of 103. You're going, end of discussion."
"Okay. But not the hospital," Mark replied.
"Fine."
LINELINELINELINE
Roger stayed as still as possible so he wouldn't wake Mark up. The smaller man had fallen asleep against his shoulder in the waiting room of the clinic. "Mark Cohen," a nurse called. Roger nudged his friend.
"Mark, wake up. They called you," he said. He kept shaking his friend, and began to get worried when he wouldn't wake up. "Mark, come on."
"Mark Cohen?" the nurse asked, looking around the room.
"I can't wake him up," Roger told her. She hurried over, checking for a pulse. She turned toward the receptionist.
"Stacy, get a doctor out here now," she called.