Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or any of the characters. I wish I did, but that's another story :) Happy reading, Jac.

The winters in NYC were all the same. October through mid-November were bearable with little more than my scarf and my tattered winter jacket or layering of two or more sweaters, but late November through March sometimes were too much to handle. The heat would be shut off and food would be harder to come by. There always seemed to be less work in the winter. It was harder for Roger to haul all his equipment through the sludge and slush; when the semester at NYU ended, the spoiled brats departed to their homes leaving Collins unemployed.

Somehow we always managed to get by. I went back to Buzzline; Joanne worked on selling my movie to whoever would bite. Roger spent most of his time trying to fix Mimi. He knew the end was coming. I watched him try to hold her despite her violent shivering and uncontrollable vomiting. She refused to die in a hospital. Roger, Collins, and I decided that she would die in the loft among the people that had become her family.

Benny offered us money on several occasions, but Mimi refused to let him help. She insisted that the money was dirty; that she didn't need to be paid off for the debts that Benny had let slide. Roger cringed whenever he saw Benny. I did my best to mediate, but it earned me a punch in the face more than once. Benny said we were being too proud; Roger wanted to know why the hell I was talking to the enemy. I always seemed to be in the middle.

We decided to let Mimi sleep in my bed. My parents had bought me a mattress for Christmas three years ago. It was by far more comfortable than the dirty mattresses Roger and I found by the side of the streets. My room had turned into an eerie shrine to Mimi. There were pictures of her everywhere; the words to her song were tacked to the wall. The sheets and blankets were dyed purple, courtesy of Collins, because she once told Roger that purple was her favorite color. She didn't talk much anymore. She would become too tired and winded. She would gasp for air like she was drowning in some sea that Roger and I couldn't see.

I knew the end was near. Roger tried to pretend that there would be no end. He wanted to think that Angel might send her back once more.

I sat on the couch wrapped in two sweaters and my winter jacket. I had three pairs of socks on my feet.

"Mark, call 911. Dammit, Mimi, you cannot do this," Roger screamed.

I did as I was told. I calmly repeated the information that I had practiced in my mind a million times before. I practiced because I knew Mimi's time was nearing an end. I knew at some point Roger's would too.

Roger's yelling had morphed to sobbing by the time I got off the phone and sirens began to near. I walked into my room; he held her close to his chest. His tears mingled with the tears Mimi had cried before she finally let go.

"Rog, the paramedics are almost here," I said softly. I wasn't sure he could even hear me.

"She's gone, Mark," Roger replied a little too matter-of-factly.

"She's not hurting anymore," I replied as I rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Medics," a white man said as he burst into the room.

"She's dead. She has AIDS," Roger said forgetting what tense he should be using.

"Please don't try to revive her," I said. The medic stopped and looked at me funny before shaking his head. Neither of us could bear to see her brutalized when she should be entering a well deserved time of peace.

"We'll call the coroner," the second medic replied.

"Let's go into the other room, Rog."

I was surprised that he followed me. I was even more surprised that upon sitting on the couch he collapsed into my arms and began to bawl for the one girl that fought to stay with him. April had been a coward, but Mimi had fought to the bitter end to stay with Roger.

Time seemed to drag on as we watched the coroner come in and pronounce Mimi dead. I'll never forget the sound of the gurney's wheels as it carried a large blue bag containing Mimi away. We were left with instructions to the city morgue and how to claim a body. Roger sat numbly forgetting to listen; I tried to burn the instructions into my brain.

"Joanne, Mimi died this afternoon," I said into the telephone not too long after Roger fell asleep on the couch.

"How's Roger?"

How was Roger? I knew he wouldn't survive without her; I knew that he would turn to something to numb him. I knew he would probably start refusing the AZT and the two other drugs that I used all my money to buy for him. I knew he would let himself fade just to be with her.

"Tired. He's very tired."

"We will come get you. I want you and Roger to stay with Maureen and me tonight," Joanne replied, "We'll make supper and make sure that boy doesn't do anything stupid."

"Thanks," I replied as she hung up. That woman didn't negotiate. I admired her for that. All too often, I let people walk all over me.

Joanne, Maureen, Collins, Benny, and I spent the night tending to Roger. I slept on the floor next to the bed Joanne all but forced him to sleep in. Benny made arrangements for purple flowers and a simple burial. Collins tended to Maureen's hysterics, while Joanne tried to force food down my throat.

"Mark, I'm scared," Roger said at some point during the night.

"You don't have to be," I replied ineptly.

"I don't want to die," he replied through sobs.

It was then that I knew he would be alright.

FIN