Disclaimer: Rent was created by Jonathan Larson. Someone else now has the rights to it; I'm not sure who, but not me. I'm only having a bit of fun. Please don't sue me... pretty please?

The week passed quickly. Work was not eventful for Mark. Remarkably, most of his elderly patients had remained in fairly good health. He saw a few slip and fall victims, but the traffic through his office was not any higher than usual. Mark was thankful for this. It allowed him to spend more time thinking about Roger. Since the session with David, Mark had continued to ask Roger about his arm. At first, he needed to ask a lot of questions and coax Roger into talking. By Friday, he no longer needed so much coaxing.

On Saturday morning Mark woke a bit early. It was a beautiful morning. The snow that had fallen during the night glistened and sparkled in the morning sunlight and the trees in the back yard looked like lace, their interlocking branches covered with a pristine layer of white. He stared out the window and sighed contentedly.

Roger woke slowly when he felt Mark move. Perhaps he was just shifting to a more comfortable position, but it was enough for Roger to open his eyes. He was a light sleeper, after his time with Robert. If Robert had a bad day and Roger was napping when he came home, sparks had been known to fly. So when Mark stirred, Roger's eyes popped open.

"Mark?" Roger asked sleepily. Was he awake, or moving in his sleep?

"Good morning, Roger." Mark was sitting up, his gaze fixed out the window. "It snowed again last night, and I was just enjoying the view." He had always liked snow. Although most adults complained when they had to shovel the walks, he let his inner child imagine he was making a route to a secret fort. He smiled realizing he could do that today before Temple.

Roger smiled. He bolted forward, pressing his face against the window, gasping. Outside lay a paradise of untouched snow. The cold glass against his forehead made him happy. He remembered every snowball he had ever been pelted with, the shoveling races they had as children. It had been years since Roger played in the snow. Still, it made him happy.

Mark smiled at Roger's delight, then had an idea. "Hey, we have to shovel before we go to Temple anyway. Why don't we go outside and play? We could build a snowman or a fort while we clear the walks." When Mark was younger he'd often build a snowman to get rid of the snow on the walks and driveway. It was more fun than using the shovel.

Roger turned to Mark, grinning. "Really?" he asked, barely believing it. It was just too good to be true.

Mark returned the grin. "Yes, really. It will be fun. I've got extra ski pants and mittens, so we won't get too cold."

Roger was tumbling out of bed already and pulling on his pants. "I can't wait. I haven't played in the snow in years. This is going to be great."

Mark also hurried to get dressed. "I haven't actually played in the snow since college and I made an anatomically correct snowman and snow woman on campus. But every time I shovel I imagine I'm making a fort or gathering the snow with my friends to make a snow sculpture or something."

Roger giggled at the anatomically correct snowpeople. "We used to have a big boys-against-girls snowball fight every year," he said. Since there were two boys and two girls, this worked fine. They also had a 'muties and norms' fight, but he thought it best not to mention that.

"I would have loved that. My sister was always too prim and proper to have a snowball fight. Luckily, I have cousins. She didn't know what she was missing!" Mark was just about dressed. He pulled out a couple of pairs of thick woolen socks from his drawer and offered one pair to Roger. "Here, put these on over your cotton ones so your feet don't get cold."

Roger couldn't imagine siblings who didn't snowball fight. Even Sarah joined in, and Adam was a flat out demon.

"Thank you." Roger pulled the woolen socks on. He curled and uncurled his toes before jamming his feet into his shoes. "I'm ready when you are."

Mark led the way to the coat closet. As he had promised, there were two pairs of ski pants and two medium-weight parkas there. He handed one of each to Roger, then grabbed hats and mittens for them both. "I'm sorry I don't have boots in your size. Maybe we should get some. For now, your sneakers will have to do. You can change your shoes before Temple so your feet don't get too wet."

Roger nodded. He hoped they had so much snow-related fun that Mark forgot all about temple. The last thing Roger wanted just then was to see his father, not now that he knew about... everything. Quickly Roger pulled on the ski pants and parka that Mark offered. "I'll be fine with sneakers," he said.

Mark got on his outdoor clothing and opened the door. He stopped before stepping though, appreciating the beauty of the untouched snow. "I used to think it was magic when I stepped in snow that no one else had been in before. I always made a wish when I took the first step. Why don't you do the honors?" He motioned to Roger to go ahead.

Roger closed his eyes gently, thinking. If he could have any wish, what would it be? After a long time, he had settled on it. He stepped into the snow, feeling crystals crunch under his shoes, his feet sinking a few inches. Then he opened his eyes. Roger half expected his dream to come true. He expected to see his siblings standing behind him. He wanted Adam to shove him and call him a mutant freak, Sasha to knock him over and make him eat snow. But they didn't.

Mark followed in a moment, wondering what Roger had wished for. He knew better than to ask. He leaned over and took a couple of handfuls, testing the snow to see if it was the right consistency for their fun and games. It was perfect, light but kind of wet and sticky. Perfect for forming snowballs and for packing into snow creations. He took his handfuls and formed a ball. He stepped away from Roger and gathered a little more snow. "Hey Roger!" he called and then let the snowball fly.

Roger laughed and he ducked. The snowball whizzed over his head. Laughing, he scooped up a double handful of snow and packed it into a ball. He was about to throw it, then he paused. When he and Robert started dating, Robert would have let throw the snowball. By the end, he would have been furious. "I can throw it, right?" he asked Mark.

Mark felt sad that Roger needed to ask. What had Robert done to him? "Of course! I wouldn't have thrown one at you if I didn't expect revenge!" Mark's speech was a little long, because Roger let the snowball go and it hit him smack in the middle of the face. Mark swiped at his face with his mitten, then laughed. "Guess I had that coming!" He dove down and started making and throwing snowballs as fast as he could.

Roger did the same, laughing as he threw snowballs at Mark. Snowballs hit him, too, bursting cold onto his cheeks, but he was laughing so hard he felt much warmer.

After a few minutes, Mark was out of breath and needed to stop. "OK, I surrender!" he called. He just wasn't as young as he used to be. "That was fun. He looked around the yard. The snow was wet and deep, not the easiest to shovel. How about we start building a snowman to get the snow off the walkways? It's much more fun than plain old shoveling."

Roger smiled. "Okay," he said. He started piling snow into a big ball to make the base of the snowman, grinning at the cold and the way he barely felt his ears and nose.

Mark started rolling the middle of the snowman. He started in the driveway and circled the car. The snow was perfect. It was wet and heavy and stuck at the slightest touch. By the time he rolled the snow to the street, he had a good sized ball. He turned and saw the huge ball that Roger had made. He hoped he could lift this snowball, but knew he had some wooden skids in the garage if need be. When he got the snowball back to the base, he found he was able to lift it without injuring himself. He grinned at Roger. "Wanna make it anatomically correct?"he asked with a wicked glint in his eye.

Roger considered, then shook his head. He didn't want his snowman left unattended, at the mercy of whatever creep happened to walk by. What if Robert walked by? Or anyone. Someone would do bad things to their snowman... Then he considered further. Anatomically correct meant their poor snowman was left outside in the snow with his sensitive places unprotected. And Roger knew what that was like.

"He is anatomically correct, Mark. He's wearing clothes."

Mark cocked his head. "I hadn't thought about that. Good one! The neighbors probably will like it better like this, too." Mark then scooped up some more snow to make the head. It didn't take very long. "Should we add branches for arms and a face?"

Roger nodded. He found a couple of branches and pushed them into the snowman's side so they stuck out at downward angles. He looked like he was holding his arms out for a hug. "How should we do his eyes?"

"I know coal is the tradition, but I don't have any. How about grapes? Carrot nose, of course and maybe a banana for a smile?"

Roger smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How about we draw on the mouth and have a banana boat after dinner?" he suggested.

Mark smiled. He hadn't had a banana boat in years. "Good idea. Do you want me to get the carrot and grapes?"

"I'll go with you," Roger replied quickly. He was all right being alone inside the house, usually, but outside was another issue entirely.

Mark nodded and entered the house. It wasn't until the warm air hit him that he realized how cold he was. He had forgotten the cold air in the excitement of building the snowman. He removed his boots at the door. He indicated to Roger to wait for him in the entry and sprinted to the fridge for the supplies. It took less than a minute and he got his boots back on in the same amount of time.

Roger managed to wait without a panic attack. He stood right where Mark had left him, his feet rooted to the spot. See how good I can be? The truth was that subconsciously, Roger's mind had churned the knowledge of the trial date and his family's desires and come to the conclusion that, after the trial, Mark might not want him around. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just that, with how huge an event it was, something was bound to change. But in the meantime he needed Mark to see how good he was.

Mark grabbed Roger's hand and pulled him outside and back to the snowman. "Will you do the honors?" he asked, holding the produce out to him.

Roger grinned. "Thank you." He stuck the grapes in the snowman's eyes. "Mmm, you know frozen grapes are a great snack. Not these, though." He added the carrot, then pressed his finger into the snow and drew in a smile.

Mark grinned. There was something about the snowman that made him feel light and carefree. Maybe it was because it brought out memories of his youth. "It's great. I'm glad we made him. Let's go in the house. I think I may have some hot chocolate in the cupboard. We can warm up and then change for Temple."

Roger nodded. Inside, he started taking off his sweaters and shoes very carefully. He didn't want to mess up Mark's floors. Still, he didn't abandon speed. He needed to get into the kitchen and make that hot chocolate. "Would it be ok if I made toast?" he asked. "It won't take too long."

Mark nodded. "That would be good. Let's have cinnamon toast! I love cinnamon toast in the winter. Do you need any help?"

"No, I've got it." He hurried into the kitchen. Roger's socked feet slipped on the hardwood floor, and he ended up falling somewhat painfully on his rear. But Roger hopped back up -- reminding himself that his bottom had taken worse poundings -- and started the toast.

Mark heard the crash in the kitchen and opened the door in time to see Roger get off the floor. "Are you alright?" he asked. The floors were hard and Roger was lean, so he didn't have a lot of cushioning.

Roger replied, as always, "I'm fine." He probably would've claimed to be fine if he'd broken his leg. This time, luckily, he was. He put a pot of milk on the stove.

Mark opened the cupboards and searched through the shelves until he got the hot chocolate mix. He also pulled out the cinnamon and sugar for the toast and put them on the counter. He went to the table and took a seat, glancing at the clock. There was plenty of time to enjoy their breakfast and still get to temple on time. "That was fun." Mark commented.

Roger nodded. "It was." He meant it, too. He would have agreed to anything Mark said but this one was easy. He portioned the cocoa into two mugs and stirred in a tablespoon of milk to each. When the toast popped up he buttered it and added cinnamon and sugar. By then the milk was starting to boil, and Roger could pour it into the mugs. He mixed them up and brought the food to the table, then put the pot in the sink to soak.

Mark sipped the warm drink and munched on a piece of toast. It was a perfect winter morning, reminding him of many like it during his childhood. He wondered when the last time Roger was able to spend a morning just having fun. He had a feeling it had been a long time.

Roger was thinking something similar. It was, he decided, a few months after moving in with Robert. The beatings had started, but they hadn't quite managed to kill his soul yet, and when he woke up to a beautiful morning, he shook Robert and told him, Look: isn't the world so perfect today? Robert had to work, but he kissed Roger and told him to have a good time. He even promised to bring home pizza.

After several minutes of silent reverie, Mark looked at the clock again. "I guess we should get changed for Temple. Do you need the shower this morning?"

Roger hesitated. Maybe he could drag this out by showering. He might make them a little late... but he wanted Mark to like him. He shook his head. "No. I'll just change."

Mark nodded. "Me too." He followed Roger to the bedroom where they both changed their clothes.

Roger sighed. He shook his head. "I'm not ready for this," he said softly. He was not protesting, but he wanted Mark to know.

"Not ready for what?" Mark asked. He had an idea, but felt it was important that Roger express what he was feeling.

"To see my family," he said. He hadn't seen them since the news report... and now they knew.

Mark nodded. "I'll be with you. I know it's hard, but I think we should go anyway. If it gets to be too much, I'll hit my pager to make it go off so we can get away quickly."

Roger looked up in surprise. "R-really?" he asked.

Mark grinned. "I've done it more than once to get away from my mother." He chuckled a bit, then got serious for a moment. "I think seeing them will do you some good, but I don't want you to be overwhelmed."

Roger nodded. He wanted to see his family... just not as he was. As someone they could be proud of. "Do you think they'll hate me?"

Mark put his arm around Roger's shoulders. "No. I guarantee it. They won't hate you."

Roger nodded. He had trouble looking at Mark. "L-let's get going, ok?"

"Sure," Mark replied. They put on their coats and boots and got in the car. Throughout the service, Mark watched Roger. He was much more tense than he was the week before.

Roger watched his family. They sat up near the front of the temple, while he and Mark were in back. Sarah was fidgeting and tugging her braids, and from Sasha's hunched shoulders Roger guessed she had a book open in her lap. Adam was sitting still, but if he had to guess Roger would say he only did this because he was Setting A Good Example. As the service drew to a close, he became antsy. Surely he could dash out and conveniently "just miss" his family...

Mark saw Roger's increased restlessness and realized he wanted to bolt. He was determined that Roger at least speak to his family on the way out. Maybe he could see for himself they didn't hate him. Mark knew Roger probably would never go back to them, but he didn't want the younger man to sever ties with them. They could help him heal.

When the service ended, Roger wanted to run. He wanted to excuse himself to the restroom and not come out. Instead, he stayed put. He didn't trust himself to move; he sat and tried to think of what he would say to his family. How could he reintroduce himself?

As luck had it, he didn't have to. "Oh. My. God." This came from the aisle, and was promptly followed by a squeal of, "Joshua!" Roger had just enough time to stand before he was swept into his sister's arms. She hugged him, laced her fingers through his and kissed his cheeks, all the while babbling, "I can't believe it's you, I can't believe it's you!"

Annie came up behind Joshua and wrapped him in another hug. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly. "Why didn't you tell me what he did to you?" Like all mothers, she wanted to take all the hurt away. Unfortunately, you couldn't heal a wounded soul by kissing boo-boos.

Roger lowered his eyes. There wasn't an answer, not really... not one she could understand. Because it was my fault. Wasn't it? Wasn't it because I was bad? or, Because I'm ashamed for letting it happen, or just because it's too personal. "I don't know," he whispered.

"You couldn't, could you?" This was from Sasha, who still had her fingers twined through Roger's. "It's ok," she added, barely above a whisper.

"You should have come home--"

Sasha turned to her father and rolled her eyes. "Shit, Daddy! Why would you say something like that?"

Annie looked at her husband coldly. "We discussed this already, Jakob. Please! Be civil to him."

Sarah sat down next to Joshua. "Why did you go away, Joshua? Why did you leave us? Do you hate us?" In the back of her mind, she thought she might have done something to drive her older brother away. Did she bother him too much or wreck his things? If she hadn't complained about doing extra chores would he have stayed?

He shook his head and gently squeezed her hand. "Of course not. Of course I don't hate you," he murmured. What had he done? Somehow he hadn't consider the damage he would do to Sarah in all of this-- after all, he reasoned, she would have Adam and Sasha to protect her. And she had been so happy when he last saw her, not like this.

"Where've you been staying-- I mean, since?" Sasha asked.

"With Dr. Cohen. Right, Josh?" Adam asked. He managed to say Dr. Cohen in an extraordinarily sultry voice.

Annie gave her eldest son a look that could have melted steel. She didn't want to get into that at the moment. "Is Dr. Cohen still treating you well, Joshua?"

As though he would say anything else with Mark sitting right there! But he nodded. "Mark's very nice," he said softly.

"He better not be the reason you're so skinny," Sasha said, poking Roger's ribs playfully, "or I may just have to kick his butt."

The idea of Sasha kicking Mark's butt made Roger smile, partly because he had no doubt that she could do so. "You'll make a wonderful Jewish wife and mother," Adam told Sasha. "Do the guilt thing. C'mon. Do it."

"Don't make me castrate you..."

"See it's just not subtle enough..."

Sarah chimed in, "Hmm... I had hoped to have some fun with my two brothers, but Adam, if you keep it up I'm only going to have one brother and two sisters instead! You know she's serious about castrating you!"

"Make it three sisters."

The comment was barely out of Jakob's mouth but Sasha had lunged forward. Adam grabbed her before she could do anything, but if looks could kill... "Don't... do... this." The words were clipped and tense, and it was obvious that despite a noteworthy difference in size that did not at all favor Sasha, she was giving Adam a run for his money holding her still.

"Jakob..." Annie warned. After all this time, why couldn't he just accept Joshua?

Sarah sobered up immediately. "Are you still gay?" she asked Joshua. She wasn't sure how it worked. Her dad made it seem like Joshua had a choice.

Silently, Roger prayed for Mark to fake his beeper going off. He would settle for Mark's beeper really going off. Hell, someone could die. Anything to get him out of here. He had yet to really look at anyone in his family, but he had a strong sense for just how they viewed him: as a nuisance, as a source of conflict. He nodded. Yes, I'm still gay.

Sarah sighed. She may not have been as close with Joshua as Sasha but she missed him. "So you're not coming home to stay then?"

Roger shook his head. He didn't have the words to tell her that no, he wasn't coming home now, yet or ever. He didn't raise his eyes, so he didn't see Adam punch Sarah a little too hard on the shoulder.

"What does that have to do with him being gay?" Sasha asked. "I mean it just means he likes boys. You like boys, and you live at home."

Sarah's eyes misted over. "I heard Dad talking before. He said Joshua couldn't come home if he was gay."

"Maybe Daddy should've worn a condom then," Adam said sweetly. He mussed her hair. "Don't worry. That was just talk."

"You're coming home then?" Sarah asked hopefully.

Roger shook his head. "I don't think so..."

"He'll visit," Sasha said quickly. Somehow rallying around Sarah had become their instinct. "It's kind of like he went to college early. We're still family."

Sarah nodded. She could accept that. She gave him a grin. "You better, or I'll have to sic Sasha on you."

Sasha growled and barked and before he could think, Roger grinned. His dad might still be an ass, but his siblings felt like family, even after everything. "Maybe Christmas," he said softly.

Annie glanced over to Mark, who was standing nearby. "Dr. Cohen would be welcome to come, too, of course," she promised. She gave her husband a look that told him her word was law in this matter. Sasha had obviously inherited her tenacity from her mother.

Roger breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure he could do that without Mark. "But, uh, we should be going soon... right, Mark?" Roger asked, hoping Mark took the hint. He had seen his family, for all the good and bad it brought.

Mark did take the hint. He made a show of glancing at his watch. "Oh! Yes, look at the time! I have an appointment this afternoon that I just can't miss. It was a pleasure meeting you all."

Roger said good-bye to his family and hugged everyone except Jakob, with whom he settled for a handshake and wanted nothing more, then gratefully darted out of the temple. "Thank you," he said to Mark.

Mark put his arm around Roger as he guided him to the car. A light dusting of snow had started to fall. "You're welcome. You did well. I'm proud of you. I know that was extremely hard for you."

"Thank you," he repeated, melting under Mark's touch. "For everything. Thank you for making me stay, and thank you for helping me leave." But more than anything, Roger was scared. If Mark really did kick him out after the trial, he would have no place to go.

Mark gave Roger another half-hug. "You're welcome. I like your family. Someone may have to have a little talk about the facts of life with Sarah, though. And I never want to get on Sasha's bad side. She's worse than my mother."

Roger laughed. "You should've seen her in elementary school. The first day of first grade, they tried to take her away from Mom and she actually barked at her teacher. So loudly it scared the teacher off!"

Mark chuckled at the tale. "If you want, when things get a little more settled after the trial, we can have your sisters and brother over. Your mother, too. I'm sorry, though, I don't think I could extend the invitation to your father. One is supposed to be polite to guests, but I don't think I could ignore your father's attitudes about certain subjects."

Roger nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to see his father after the trial, either. "We can schedule it when he's out of town," he suggested. Just the thought brought his father's remark to the surface, and it stung.

to be continued!

Reviews would be very much appreciated... please?