Disclaimer: RENT is Jonathan Larson's.

Mark looked at the sterile room, sighed, and looked at Roger. It's been negative, he wanted to say. It's been negative every time, baby. We know it's negative. The words trembled his lips. Every previous test had been negative for the human immunodeficiency virus.

So why did he need this one? This one would be negative, too. The results would be identical, the pages exactly the same as previously… so why did he need this one?

And why was he so afraid of it?

Roger squeezed his hand. He gave Mark a quick smile. Roger tried to speak, but he didn't know the words…

Mark released Roger's hand and stepped up to the counter. The nurse behind the desk finished her telephone call while Mark fought the urge to leaf through a brochure: 'So Your Life Is Over'—literally it read 'Living with HIV'. Mark knew better.

"Can I help you?"

"M... Mark Cohen," Mark stammered. "I'm here for my test results?"

"All right, Mr. Cohen…" the nurse spun away on her wheeled chair and typed his name into the computer. "C-O-H-E-N?" she asked.

"Yes," he affirmed.

"All right…"

The printer whirled the paper out. Mark turned to Roger. He stood by the door, hunkered over in his worn leather jacket, trying to give Mark an encouraging smile but looking instead like he suffered painful constipation.

"Here you are, Mr. Cohen."

"Thank you."

Mark looked at the paper. He couldn't read it. His eyes wouldn't focus. It couldn't be positive. No way. After so many negative tests, it just would not, not suddenly become a…

Mark turned, crushing the paper in his hand as he pushed out of the clinic. It wasn't. It… just… wasn't…

"Mark!" Roger joined him by the railing. He rubbed his back. "You gonna hurl?" he asked. "You're pale," he observed, touching Mark's face.

"I'm fine," Mark said. He looked at Roger. "It's good news," he announced, lying through his teeth.

"Great," Roger said, obviously not believing. He grabbed Mark's hand. Mark tried to jerk away, but Roger held him tightly, squeezing his fingers open and prying out the paper.

"I couldn't read it," Mark admitted.

Roger's eyes jerked across the page. He frowned, reading, then nodded. "Okay," he said. Roger took a deep breath. He nodded. "Okay."

"Well?" Mark asked. Am I dying?

Roger kept nodding. "It's good news," he said levelly. "It's good… It's good news!" he cried, then threw his arms around Mark and hugged him, lifting him off the ground. "It's good news!" Roger called.

"Yay," Mark squeaked. "Roger… I can't breathe."

Roger put him down. "Sorry," he said. Then, "It's good!" and hugged Mark, hard. When he released Mark, both were grinning. "Come on." Roger punched Mark's shoulder gently. "Let's go celebrate."

Mark smiled. "Definitely."

IT'S OVER!!

...yeah, that's it. Review? Pretty please? For a happy ending?