A/n: Well, here is my new multi- chapter story. My posting may not be as frequent as it was with Where All The Scars Of The Nevers & Maybes Die, because A.) Its not pre- written and B.) I was casted as the lead role of the school play ( Belle, in Beauty and the Beast) as well as gymnastics, guitar, piano, voice etc etc. So anyway, this is chapter two, set years before chapter one. Alot of dialogue here, and, unlike most of my writing, not every little moment is described. It kinda skips diffrent intervals of diffrent amounts of time ranging from seconds- minutes. Review!

IMPORANT!! - Everyone of my consistant devoted readers of Where All The Scars Of The Nevers & Maybes Die that have commented on all/ almost all my chapters I have a little token of appreciation for you. Since I can't offer much else. PM me, and tell me what you want me to do. It could a theme you want me to write a story about, it could be something you want me to write for someone, homework you want me to do ( only writing homework please, no math or anything) it could be an entire story outline, I could be a beta for your story, damn whatever you can think of ( and is somewhat resonable) PM me with it, and its yours. I will begin doing this for all my multi chapter fics, by the way so watch our for that.

Disclaimer ( I'm only doing it once): Dont own RENT, didn't make it, if I did I would be pissing myself.

Warning: Slash, sex, langauge, violence, rape, jesus christ I wrote it

In That Instant, It Started To Pour

(Years before chapter one. Pre heavy drug use/ addiction, pre withdrawal, beginning of April and Roger)

The empty air and stark sky contrasted the light dancing on the snow as the two men made their way across the jagged side walk. The two were engrossed within the content of their conversation, leaving themselves very much oblivious to the abnormally silent streets, a result of the late hour and biting cold. The conversation in particular, held the air of misplaced tension, for under almost all circumstances, an evident lack of awkwardness between the two was firmly present. Finishing each others sentences was so common it was almost and insult to their masculinity and never could they exhaust the act of filling rare occasions of silence. And yet now discomfort and rigidity was so apparent, each heated exchange hung heavily in the air, words remaining unsaid heard just as well as those being voiced.

"Roger you're such a fucking ass hole sometimes"

"Its not my fucking fault your getting your panties in a bunch for NO. GODDAMN. REASON."

"Yes, alright, because using drugs frequently and the crooks of your arms attaining more and more track marks every time I look isn't anything to be worried about in the least. Sorry all my fault, not like you're risking your life or getting fucking addicted or anything."

"Fuck you Mark"

"Ohhh wow you're actually sober enough to remember my name for once, good fucking job!"

"Would you stop pissing yourself over this MOM? Jesus Christ just because I know how to live my fucking life-"

"Getting addicted to smack is how you live your life-"

"I am not fucking addicted! And I am not ever going to be either. If you would just calm your ass, you would see that asshole. What's got you all hyped up on defense mode anyway? You all tense because you still don't have the balls to come out of the fucking closet or something?" That was a line crossed. Tense silence for a few moments.

"How many times do we have to go over this fuck wad? I'm not fucking gay or bi or whatever you call it" Mark murmured "Jesus I don't know why I put up with all your shit"

Roger halts in the middle of the sidewalk, throwing his arms back in frustration

"Oh so its all my fucking fault now huh?" Mark stopped walking and turned to face his best friend "Why don't we talk about what you do wrong ass wipe? How about-"

And then it happened. Roger couldn't even finish the fucking sentence before the solid frame of a large man came barreling across the street, tackling Mark and wrestling him into submissive position. Shadows danced nightmarishly across the vast lonely landscape. And In the end, there Mark was, his arms locked behind his back, a much stronger larger pair looped forcibly within the crooks and a menacing stale breath caressing his neck.

"Hey there boys" came a deep throaty whisper "feel like a little fun?" And although no actual threat was blatantly exposed at the moment, the implication was enough to send Roger into defense mode

"Get your fucking hands off of him right. Fucking . Now."

"And who's gunna make me hair boy ? What you his boyfriend or something ?"

"I swear to fucking god if you hurt him-"

"Roger just go. Go while you can"

And then the alleged mugger pulled a long, glimmer knife from his pocket. It glinted harshly in the dull light, picking up stray rays of illumination.

"Roger go now, run fucking run I'm serious, just fucking go now"

"Hey pretty boy, I got a deal for you-" Roger winced

"We don't have any money-"

"Shut up." He brought the knife dangerously close to Mark's neck "I have a deal. You and me screw, right here, right now, and I'll let your little buddy here go"

Silence

"Roger no please don't do this." Desperation "Go fucking go GO RUN DAMN IT RUN, ILL BE FINE DON'T YOU FUCKING DO THIS"

"You wont hurt him?"

"ROGER NO!"

"Of course not"

"NO! DON'T!"

A beat

"Fine. Just let him go"

"NO!"

"Of course"

They were led into a near by dark alleyway. The dark figure pulled Mark around roughly, tying his wrists together with a thick piece of rope and then to an old rusted pipe erecting off the side of an abandoned brick building. When he was finished he stood abruptly and turned to Roger, giving him a rough smug smile.

"Well boy we gunna do this or not?"

"Please Roger, you don't have to do this, not for me, please. Please don't let him do this to you. Just go. I don't fucking deserve it, this could seriously fuck you up - "

Roger scoffed, narrowing his eyes, catching Mark's with his own

"Its worth it"

The man didn't even kiss him. His lips made no contact to any part of Rogers body. Not once. He simply stood, his expectant gaze drilling into Roger, who slowly began removing his jeans.

And Roger.. After a lifetime of detaching, it was far too simple to do so at that moment. Far simpler than it should be.

"Wait. What about Mark? We're going to fuck, so let him go."

"I said I wouldn't hurt him if we fucked, I never said I would let him go"

"You mean, your going to make him watch?"

"You're a smart one aren't you ?"

"No no no no and just no. I am not going to do this if your going to make him watch"

"Ahh" He sounds quit amused "But I" He struts over and rolls Mark's sleeve up "think" he pushes the metal to Mark's pale skin, dragging it swiftly and making a deep cut "you will"

Marks gasps, yet remains contained. He holds back any other reactions, because if he gives in, Roger might as well.

"No! Fuck, fuck okay alright just okay just don't hurt him.. "

"Roger, go. Look its not worth it! Just go -"

"Not without you"

And now Roger was breaking a little, searing pain making one of its rare, almost non existent, appearances as his eyes danced over the blood. Mark's blood.

Because, of course, he could let himself feel, as long as it was for someone else. Anyone but himself.

"That's what I thought."And then Rogers front was pushed against a cold blank wall, and his boxers were around his ankles. And everything about the scene seemed just too perfect. The vast silence of the winter air, the fresh coats of snow beginning to drift from the sky, a vain resort to cover the blood. To make up for some of the ugliness. The flickering street light, dull and indifferent, because all was lost anyway. A back alleyway, as innocent and incriminated as anything, because everyone knew things different, everyone sees things different, and everyone chooses not to see different things. The ground littered with shattered glass, varying objects that probably had meant something once. The utter blackness just calling to be disturbed. The cold stark brick etching reality into the palms of his hands as he felt himself being entered.

And he tried not to make a sound, because if he gave the slightest indication that this was hurting him in any way

It could very easily shatter Mark.

He remains un responsive

"Damn you, make some noise or your friends getting fucking cut up" And so Roger began moaning and screaming and begging and anything else he could think of.

And the last thing he wanted to do was meet Mark's eyes

He was so fucking terrified of what might be there

Because he wasn't sure what he would see

And Human nature is to fear the unknown

But just as the mugger began to climax, sending Roger into one of his own

He cant help but catch Mark's eyes

Mark, Who's face was frozen with such (emotional) pain he looked as if he were about to drop dead on the spot. Die because he just couldn't bear seeing this happen to Roger. Anything would be better than this. He almost wished the mugger had cut him up. It would have hurt so much less.

When the mugger was finished he ordered Roger stay as he was. He untied Mark and now shoved him face first into the wall to which he got harsh protest from Roger.

"What the fuck are you doing? I swear to fucking god, if you lay a finger on him" And he just smiled evilly in return and matched the rockers cold gaze with a one of smug amusement

"Oh I'm not going to, you are""What?"

"You" He murmurs harshly, dragging the blade suddenly across Roger's arm "are going to fuck him now"

"No. No I'm fucking not I am not going to-"

"Roger, its alright, just do it, I'll be fine"

"But Mark I -"

"Please, I cant let what you did go to waste, just please"

And so Roger gulped back the vomit rising in his throat, not from disgust of who he was about to do, but what he was about to do. What he was about to do to the person he cared the most about. And he entered Mark slowly, as not to hurt him

"You aright? " He whispers hating himself more with every moment that passed

"Yeah, im fine just go ahead" Mark assured through teeth, gritted in attempt to endure the pain. Roger pushed a little more, but stopped again, another vain attempt not to harm Mark

"You are going to fuck him hard and fast right now, or you're both fucking dead"

And so, apprehensively, Roger complied and began pumping in an out of Mark as hard as he could. He felt the bile rising in his throat. He felt like he didn't deserve to be alive at the moment. He felt like he was going to pass out.

And eventually they both climaxed and the world seemed to spin out from under them. And the mugger smiled in a satisfied manner before leaving a large slash down Rogers side and across Mark's hip ' just for the hell of it'. And he left them. Just as the world had, lying on the cold ground. Bleeding and shaking, and hoping that maybe someday this would heal.

But they knew it never would.