I return bearing another angsty ficlet. :P Even though there are a million other things I could be doing

Basically this was inspired by the Mark & Roger fight in Goodbye Love during Rent: Filmed Live on Broadway (which is why Mark is described as having brown eyes - he's based on Adam Kantor rather than Anthony Rapp) and the song Because of You by Kelly Clarkson (though in this story the song is kind of reversed).

I own nothing!~

I watched you die

I heard you cry every night in your sleep

I was so young

You should have known better than to lean on me

You never thought of anyone else

You just saw your pain

And now I cry in the middle of the night

For the same damn thing

Perhaps it's because I'm the one of us to survive!

Poor baby!

The cruel, angry words are still hanging in the air, resounding between us. I'm so angry, but for the first time in a long time, my eyes are really open. I step toward Mark, my hands balling into fists and it take everything in me to keep myself from giving him a black eye, even though none of this is actually his fault.

And this is when I really begin to notice. Notice the way Mark flinches back from me. Notice the look in his eyes - that's a look of fear. Mark's scared of me. He stepped back to protect himself, because he's learned through experience – through bruises and broken bones – the way it goes with my temper. And that he should be afraid of me.

This sudden knowledge comes crashing down on me in one horrible instant. It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be taking all of my anger – anger at Mimi, at Angel, at myself – out on Mark. But I always have, haven't I? He's always been the easiest, closest target.

But it's so painfully clear now. Mark is falling apart, he's damn near broken, holding himself together because he feels like he has to. Has to hold himself together so he can be there for everyone. Be there for me. Me, the guy who throws all of Mark's efforts right back in his face.

The guy who was the one to break Mark in the first place.

It shouldn't be this way. Mark is so young.He's barely 22 years old. He had such a great future in front of him – he was so bright and smart and creative. Hell, somewhere deep down, he still is. He could have doneanything. He shouldn't have to deal with everything he has. He shouldn't have taken on so much responsibility. He shouldn't look as tired as he does. He's barely 22 but he's carrying the entire weight of the world on his shoulders.

And this is my fault. It's all my fault. I should have known better. He was so young, so alive. I used him as a crutch for so long. I couldn't hold myself up so I used him. Did I ever even thank him for everything he did? No. I beat him down. I hit him and cursed at him and told him to leave me the fuck alone. He gave up his life to save mine… And what did I ever give him?

Now I stand there, staring into those frightened brown eyes, and I'm absolutely horrified at myself. All I can think is 'What the hell have I done?'Mark is just a kid, but he's falling apart on the inside. He's just a kid, but he barely has any life left.

And it's all because of me