Fic By Kee

Gone

2006-10-08T14:51:37Z

Fandom: Day After Tomorrow
Title: Gone
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: Ooo! Shiny!
Word Count: 245
Rating: Pg
Genre: poetry, angst, general
Summary: Sam's thoughts as he looks down at the world below from the helicopter.
Notes: I wrote this about two years ago.
Spoilers: Day After Tomorrow
Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Life...Gone...

Hope...Gone...

Dreams...Gone...

Where? Under this blanket of death. His stare fell upon the building peaks.

How many?

Lives

Hopes

Dreams

Gone...

Children. Women. Men. Old. Young. This indiscriminate white death knows no mercy or difference. Millions of lives:

Gone.

Each person under the whiteness had had hopes:

Gone.

Little girls dreamed of princes and proms, little boys of super powers. Parents dreamed of watching them grow. Their dreams, too;

Gone.

Why was he so lucky? What made him special? More important than those children. Those other people. Why did he get the chance to do what they could not? A chance to live, hope, dream...

The questions pounded him, demanding answers he couldn't supply.

Why?

How many?

Who?

What now?

What else?

Why?

Because. Just because.

How many?

Too many...

Who?

Everyone.

What now?

Move on.

What else?

There was nothing else. He had no choice in the matter. Pick up the shattered remains. He had to live. He had to hope. He had to dream.

Life...Gone...

Hope...Gone...

Dreams...Gone

Time...

Gone...

Scars That Never Heal

2006-10-08T13:46:18Z

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Title: Scars That Never Heal
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: Aye. I be likin' feedback.
Pairing: Will/Estella, Jack/Elizabeth
Word Count: 438
Rating: meh. Pg I guess.
Genre: general (angst if you want)
Summary: Every so often, as they lay in bed at night, his wife would trace along the mysterious scars on his back with her dainty fingertips. She did not know the story behind them, but every time he felt her drag her finger along the trail one of them made as they crisscrossed, his heart burned with jealousy and rage and hurt and he was reminded again of what he had lost and to whom he had lost it.
Spoilers: Parts of DMC
Disclaimer: The mouse.

Sometimes his mind would wonder and his gaze would drift down to his hand, specifically his palm, where the shiny white scar stretched from pinkie to thumb. In those moments he was reminded of the sacrifices he had made for her.

Every so often, as they lay in bed at night, his wife would trace along the mysterious scars on his back with her dainty fingertips. She did not know the story behind them, but every time he felt her drag her finger along the trail one of them made as they crisscrossed, his heart burned with jealousy and rage and hurt and he was reminded again of what he had lost and to whom he had lost it.

Estella would never ask about the marks on her husband’s body; scars from another life, one he had not shared with her, but another woman, years ago. A woman who, though she had not caused them directly, had certainly been the cause. Scars he had once bared with pride now became painful reminders of his lost love. And although Estella knew he loved her, she also knew that he could never love her as much as he loved her; the other woman. The one who had disgraced her family, father and fiancée by running off to become a pirate. That was all Estella knew of the subject.

But he knew better. He had seen her with the pirate. Watched her fall into his arms and kiss him fiercely after he had been rescued from World’s End. He had been the one left behind when she revealed that she was in love with the pirate. He was the one to close up his heart and turn away from any other who would love him. Even Estella truly meant nothing to him; though she would never realize it. She was his wife and the mother of his children, true enough, but he certainly didn’t love her. In fact, he had never felt even the slightest bit for Estella what he’d felt for Elizabeth.

Once in awhile, a ship would pull into the harbor at Port Royale. It’s captain finally convinced to take up employment with the East India Company and become a privateer for England. A ship with black sails. He could see the ship from his window and would gaze longingly from it, searing pain rushing through him, his scars burning. Once in a while, he would catch sight of a woman on the deck of this ship with black sails. A beautiful woman with golden hair. The woman for whom he bared these scars. Scars that would never heal.

Merely Curiousity

2006-10-03T17:04:27Z

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Title: Merely Curiousity
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: rocks my socks
Pairing: Mentioned past Elizabeth/Norrington, Elizabeth/Will, Elizabeth/Jack
Word Count: 660
Rating: Pg
Genre: general
Summary: Jack was everything Will could not be. Danger, excitement, who wouldn’t choose the pirate over the blacksmith?
Spoilers: End of DMC
Disclaimer: The mouse man, the mouse has it all in his greedy little paws.

His heart sank as if it were made of lead as he watched her lips dance dangerously close to the pirate’s. It wasn’t the first time she’d caused him to feel the sharp, stabbing pangs of jealousy. It really hadn’t been so long since he’d left her on the steps of the fort with her beloved blacksmith he had lost his fair lady’s heart to. How would dear William feel when he learned that he had lost her to a pirate?

After a moment, Jack leaned in to capture Elizabeth’s mouth in a kiss, but jerked away abruptly and awkwardly. The girl muttered something inaudible to the pirate before he scurried away, leaving Elizabeth to bask in her thoughts. A silly, bashful smile crossed her face as she stared at the unending sea.

“You know,” he said, sauntering over to her with a knowing grin on his face. “There was a time when I would have given anything for you to look like that while thinking of me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Elizabeth said quickly; too quickly. But the former commodore knew better. She was a tease. One moment you had her love, and the next moment she would yank it out from under you and give it to some other poor soul. Frankly, Norrington thought, he was quite glad to be rid of her. Good riddance. All he needed was some scarlet woman for a wife. She was Will’s problem now, and so be it.

Perhaps it was just curiosity, she thought. Just the yearning for adventure that caused her heart to flutter whenever Jack was around. Jack was an adventure in himself, after all, and she had to admit that, although she loved Will, a life with him in Port Royale would be so boring. Whenever Jack was around, he brought fun, danger, excitement; trouble, yes, but at least he could break the monotony of everyday life in the colonies. But could she hurt Will? After everything he had done for her? In the end, she did what she had to to survive and to hell with the consequences. She could always explain herself later.

His heart sank as if it were made of lead as he watched her press herself against the pirate captain. Her lips meshed with his and she pushed him against the mast with lust and passion. Jack was everything Will could not be. Danger, excitement, who wouldn’t choose the pirate over the blacksmith? Still he could not help the feelings of pain and anger and betrayal that overwhelmed his senses as he watched his fiancée melt into the man he had once considered a friend. He’d have given anything to be able to not witness this himself. He would willingly hand himself over to Davy Jones’ Bo ‘sun for another five, ten or even a hundred lashes. Anything would be more welcome, even that. Even a whipping from a man who prided himself on tearing flesh from bone with every swing.

Elizabeth turned and climbed into the boat and Will could not help himself from bitterly spitting out the words,

“Where’s Jack?” Elizabeth sensed the biting of his words and her voice immediately went shaky as if she were attempting to hold back tears.

“He elected to stay behind to give us a chance.” she said quietly, averting her eyes from Will’s as he glared at her. How could the woman he loved so much do such a thing to him? With a pirate nonetheless? Her eyes never left the Pearl until the Kraken had wrapped itself around it and dragged it down to the bottom of the ocean, it’s captain with it. Was she crying because of what she’d done to him, or because she’d had to leave Jack behind? He wanted to grab a hold of her and shake her and demand an explanation, but instead he just took up his oar and silently rowed toward the shore.

Like Rain On Your Wedding Day

2006-10-03T16:57:55Z

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Title: Like Rain On Your Wedding Day
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: Is golden. Like treasure.
Pairing: Elizabeth/Will Estella/OC
Rating: Pg
Genre: General
Summary: Estella helps a nervous Elizabeth prepare for her wedding, but neither have any idea that Beckett's plan has already been set in motion.
Notes: Set immediately before and in the opening scene of DMC
Spoilers: Beginning of DMC
Disclaimer: It all belongs to the mouse.

"Pardon, Miss Elizabeth," the timid maid stuck her head in the door.

"Estella? Oh good. Could you help me?" Elizabeth asked, beaming nervously as she attempted to lace up her dress with shaky hands.

"Of course, Miss Elizabeth." Estella said. "You look absolutely lovely, Miss." she added.

"Thank you. I feel lovely." Elizabeth smiled, looking herself over in the mirror. "I can't believe today's the day."

"You must be terribly excited. I'm sure Will is going to look so handsome."

"It is exciting. I admit I feel nervous though. I can't exactly explain why--I mean, I love him of course,"

"Of course. Will Turner is a fine man. I've always said he was good man." Estella said, tying the final ribbon on the back of Elizbeth's dress.

"So you have." she said. "I just can't help feeling that something's going to go terribly wrong today."

"Tis just your nerves Miss. It's normal." Estella picked up a hair brush off the dresser and began to run it through Elizabeth's long golden hair.

"Have you ever been in love, Estella?" Elizabeth asked. The maid giggled.

"Back in England, Miss, there is a man." she divulged. "A merchant sailor, dealing in precious metals and stones. He is saving to buy a home and then he will send for me. We will be married someday. Unless the sea claims him before I can."

"Oh Estella." Elizabeth said sympathetically. "I'm sure the two of you will be so happy together."

"As am I, Miss Elizabeth." Estella sighed. She finished fixing Elizabeth's hair and placed her veil upon her head tenderly.

"It looks like rain." Elizabeth commented, glancing out the window.

"So it does, Miss." Estella replied as she set about tidying the room. Elizabeth wandered to the balcony and leaned over, resting on the wrought iron railings. The wind blew in the salty smell of the sea air off the harbor, and she could see white caps forming in the distance. At the fort below she could see her father giving orders to his hired help as they set up for the ceremony which was about to begin. The sounds of the violins and flutes warming up drifted up and Elizabeth could feel a chill setting in around her. She did have a feeling that something was about to go wrong. She just didn't know how right she was.

Will fixed his hat upon his head and straightened his scarf, then wiped the dust from his shoes.

"Ye clean up good boy." Mr.Brown grunted.

"Thank you." Will said with a grin.

"Ye'd better get down ta the fort. Best not ta keep yer bride waitin' for ye." The blacksmith chuckled. "It won't fair ye well tonight if ye do that m'boy." Will laughed and turned to leave just as the door to the smithy was thrust open to allow at least ten soldiers to pour in, swords drawn.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Will asked.

"You are under arrest Mr. Turner." Commodore Gillette said, stepping forward will a scroll of parchment and a pair of irons.

"On what charges?" Mr. Brown asked.

"That is none of your concern, Mr. Brown." Gillette replied.

"He is my apprentice. I've every bloody right to know what charges ye 'ave against 'im."

"Mr.Brown, we are under the jurisdiction of the king of--"

"As are we all!" Mr. Brown bantered. He truly had no concern of the charges, however, his argument had distracted the soldiers enough to allow Will to gather a sword into his possession. "I guarentee ye that Mr. Turner will not go quietly!" Will sprang into action, bounding forward, brandishing his weapon at the soldiers. He staved them off for nearly five minutes on his own before Mr. Brown took up a sword and helped him. The soldiers finally got the best of him, throwing him brutally to the ground. Will fought against their hold on him.

"Mr. Turner, you try my patience." Gillete sighed.

"I'm supposed to be married today! Elizabeth is waiting for me at the fort! You can't do this!"

"I think, you'll find, we can. And worry not, you'll be at the fort soon enough. Men? Take him to his bride." Gillette chuckled. The soldiers dragged Will out the door. "And Mr. Mullroy?"

"Aye Commodore?"

"Place Mr. Brown here under arrest as well."

"For what!?" Mr. Brown cried in outrage.

"Aiding and assisting a fugitive from the crown in a pathetic, yet illegal, escape attempt. That will be all Mullroy."

"Aye Commodore."

The skies had opened and the rain was pouring down over Port Royale. Elizabeth sat crying on the steps of the fort, her dress torn from the rocks, and soaked through, along with her veil. Her hair had long since fallen flat. Sheet music fluttered by and the expensive china cups filled to the brim with the cold, grey rain. She crossed her arms and shivered. She had been sitting there for nearly an hour after the guests had fled to the Governor's mansion, and no amount of pleading and begging could persuade her to abandon her perch and her watch for Will. She had no way of knowing that at that moment, her fiance was being arrested in his shop under unknown charges and that hundreds of British soldiers were swarming the island.

Ring Pops

2006-10-03T16:47:06Z

Fandom: Rent
Title: Ring Pops
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: is better than a Ring Pop
Pairing: innocent Roger/Mark then not so innocent Roger/Mark
Word Count: 1110
Rating: Pg
Genre: humor, flashback, fluff
Summary: Maureen wants to play wedding, but Mark and Roger won't marry a girl for fear of cooties. So instead, Mark marries Roger in the backyard, with Maureen acting as the "Rabbit".
Special Thanks: thanks to lionessvalenti and elvensorceress for inspiring this, my first ever work of slash.
Disclaimer: iRent

“I can’t believe you still watch this show.” Mark said, taking a seat on the floor. “Only babies watch Barney, Maureen.” the girl turned and glared at him.

“Shut up, four eyes.” she said, hitting him where it hurt. Mark had only just gotten glasses a week earlier, and was very sensitive to the teasing he got from wearing them.

“You’re just mad ‘cause you know I’m right. Baby.” he jabbed.

“Am not!” she countered.

“Are too!” Mark said, sticking out his tongue. “You’re mad ‘cause you’re a baby and I’m not.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Put a muzzle on it, will you!” Mark’s older sister, Cindy said from the couch where she was talking with one of her friends from the junior high. “Sorry. I got stuck watching my baby brother and the little neighbor girl until Mom gets home from grocery shopping.”

“I’m not a baby, Cindy!” Mark insisted. “I’m six now. Maureen’s the baby. She’s only five still.”

“Whatever.” Cindy said before going back to her phone conversation.

“Wanna do something fun, Marky?” Maureen asked.

“If we don’t have to watch this dumb show.”

“Me an’ Roger’s auntie got married this weekend.”

“Yeah, so?” Mark asked.

“It was fun. There was a cake, and dancing and lots of people.”

“I thought we were gonna do something fun. I’ve been to a wedding. You have to sit in church for a million years. They aren’t that fun. What do you want to do?”

“Let’s get married!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Get married? Ew.” Mark said. “You have cooties.”

“Fine then. When Roger comes over after his nap, you can marry him and I’ll be the Rabbit.”

“Don’t you know anything, Maureen?” Mark said with a snobby tone. “It isn’t a Rabbit, it’s a Rabbi. And besides, only girls can marry boys.”

“Nuh uh.” Maureen said.

“Yeah huh.” Mark argued.

“Shut up!” Cindy yelled.

“Roger’s nice. I’d marry him.” Maureen said matter-of-factly.

“You can’t marry him. He’s your cousin.” Mark said.

“So?” Maureen asked haughtily.

“So, cousins can’t marry cousins. It’s against the law.”

“Says who?”

“Says God.”

“Well fine. I didn’t want to marry him anyway. Boys have cooties.”

“No we don’t!”

“Yes you do!”

“BE QUIET!” The room went quiet except for the cheesy cheers from the children on television as Barney told them all what fun they were going to have that day. The door creaked open and a little boy stuck his head in.

“Hi guys.” he said. “Hi Cindy, can Mark come out and play?”

“If you take it outside.” she said, desperate to get rid of them.

“Okay.” Roger shrugged. Mark got up and followed him into the backyard and Maureen rushed to join them, running as they tried to leave her behind.

“Guys! Wait for me!”

“Roger,” Mark asked. “Can boys marry boys? Maureen thinks they can, but I say they can’t. You’re seven, so you’re almost a grown-up. Who’s right?”

“I think they can.” Roger said wisely. “Besides, girls are icky. I’d rather marry a boy.”

“See? I told you so.” Maureen said, sticking out her tongue at Mark. “Now can we have a wedding?” she said eagerly, grabbing both of the boys by the hand and dragging them to the swing set.

“If Mark and me get married then can we go throw rocks at cars after?” Roger asked.

“Whatever. It can be your honeymoon.” Maureen said, clearly uninterested in the games that boys played. “Didn’t you get a timeout last time you did that?” she added.

“Yeah. And my dad hit me with his belt. It hurt when he was hittin’ me, but you should see the cool bruises on my butt!” he said enthusiastically.

“Gross.” Maureen said, wrinkling up her nose.

“Can we get this over with, Maureen?” Mark asked, kicking at the grass with his scuffed up shoe.

“Fine. Mark you can be the bright and Roger can be the groomed.” she said, grabbing them and moving them to face each other by the swings. “I’ll get flowers.” she announced, running over to Mrs. Cohen’s garden and plucking some gladiolas to hand to Mark.

“What about the ring?” Mark asked.

“Oh yeah!” she remembered. “I’ll be right back!” and with that, she rushed back into the house and came back out with two small, foil packages, handing one to each of them. “My mommy bought these for me to share with you, Mark. They’re called Ring Pops. But you can’t eat them ‘til after the wedding, kay?” she instructed. Roger looked with longing at the candy ring in his hand, but obeyed, knowing that his cousin’s wrath was much worse than waiting five minutes to eat the candy. He’d seen her at Christmas when she didn’t get the microphone and play stage she wanted.

When everything was just the way Maureen wanted it, including collecting as many stuffed animals, dolls and a disgruntled Cindy, to watch, she stood in front of the “audience” and began.

“Friends, dolls and stuffed aminals of Scarsdale, we are here to watch these boys get married. Roger, do you take Mark to be your awfully wetted bright?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Roger said, yearning for the taste of the blue raspberry sucker in his hand.

“No! you have to say ’I do’.” Maureen insisted.

“Fine. I do.” Roger obliged.

“And Mark, do you take Roger to be your awfully wetted groomed?”

“I do.” Mark mumbled.

“Then by the powers vested in me. I now announce you bright and groomed.” she said proudly. “Roger, you can kiss your bright!”

“EWW!” both boys said at once.

“But you have to! It’s part of getting married!”

“No! That’s gross!” Roger insisted.

“Do it or you can’t eat your Ring Pops!” she warned. Roger glanced down at the sucker in his hand. Was kissing another boy worth it? He decided, yes, it was.

“Fine.” he said. And with that he leaned over and kissed Mark on the lips.

*********************************************************************************

“I remember that too well for my own good.” Mark said, snuggling closer to Roger on the couch.

“I can’t say you’re alone on that one.” Roger replied with a grin. The two leaned in and kissed softly, Mark’s hand trailing up Roger’s arm to his cheek where it stopped.

“If that wasn’t a sign of things to come--” Mark laughed when they pulled away from each other.

“I love you.” Roger said.

“More than candy?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow.

“More than anything.”

“Now I know I’m loved.”

“Oh shut up. You always knew you were.”

“I guess so.” Mark smiled, pressing his lips to Roger’s once again.

“Hey Mark?” Roger asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do we have any Ring Pops?”

Tied to His Memories

2006-10-03T16:33:10Z

Fandom: Rent
Title: Tied to His Memories
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: Makes me happy inside.
Pairing: past Roger/April, present Roger/Mimi
Word Count: 831
Rating: Pg-13 for swearing, mentioned suicide and drug use
Genre: flashback
Summary: Roger reminisces about all the times he's had to wear a tie and what happened those days as he gets ready for his wedding in the church bathroom.
Spoilers: Who committed suicide?
Disclaimer: I rent.

“Tied To His Memories”

Challenge 76 (Tie)

By Keira Edwards

Roger looked at himself in the mirror of the church bathroom and sighed as he straightened his tie. Every occasion he'd worn a tie before this had been a bad experience for him. Maybe that's why he'd been so reluctant to put one on that morning. He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lip in thought.

He glanced over at a chair and saw his five year old self, sitting there, pulling on the tie around his neck.
"You're too old to wear those clip-on ties now, Roger." His mom told him, her voice shaky with tears. Her husband, Roger's father, had died in a car accident a week earlier. Roger wasn't sure what was going on, but he didn't like seeing his mom cry like she'd been doing all morning.

"Do I have to wear this?" he asked, pulling at the tie. "It's too tight and I can't breathe." he dragged in a labored breath for emphasis.

"Oh, stop it now." she said, slapping his hand away. "Look at you. All grown up. Your daddy would be so proud." she hugged her son to her and started sobbing again.

"Mommy, don't cry. Dad's okay. You said so last night. You said he was an angel now." Roger reminded her. "He gets to play with God and have a pair of wings and everything."

"Oh, Roger...honey..." Roger was good the rest of the day, but when they got home that night, he took the tie off and buried it in the trashcan under a few layers of garbage. He laughed secretly at the breakfast table the next morning as he watched the garbage truck out the window and insisted a few months later that he'd lost it when his mother couldn't find it for the Christmas card pictures.

The next bad tie experience was at the age of twelve. His mother's wedding. Roger had willingly put the tie on that morning, but afterwards had locked himself in the bathroom of the church, refusing to come out. The door was taken off its hinges after three hours' begging on his mother's part, and the man who was marrying her dragged him by the arm to the alter, but only after slapping him around a bit in the basement.

"You snot-nosed little bastard." he sneered. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"No! You aren't my father and you're never going to be!" Roger yelled back. His comment was replied to with a slap to the face.

"You think your little stunt up there made any difference?" he asked. "Do you, you little fuck?" Roger knew better than to talk back now. He stood erect, staring the man in the face and biting his lip so as not to cry. He would never let this man win. "The only thing it did was piss me off, and that, my friend, is not a good thing for you." he grabbed the end of Roger's tie and pulled him to him, bringing Roger's face a mere inches from his own. "I'm not going anywhere now. You. Are. Mine." he whispered. His hot breath smelled of whiskey and Marlboros, causing Roger to gag a little. "You have no idea what I can do to you. But just you wait--oh just wait. You'll see boy. You'll see." he warned, letting him go and pushing him towards the stairs. Roger was still shaking when he got to his bedroom after the reception. By the next year, he'd run away a total of twenty-four times. At age fourteen he was living full time with Mark Cohen's family in the house two blocks down. Roger shook his head to free himself of the memory and it was replaced by a worse one.

He could barely remember April's funeral. He'd been high as a kite that day; a little drunk too. Mark had dragged him out of bed, dressed him and combed his hair before walking him down to the church. He could remember glaring at the wooden coffin in front of him and hating April with a fierce passion. She had killed herself. She was killing him. He left the sermon early, but unbeknownst to Mark or Collins or anyone else, he'd gone back that night, sober, to pay his respects to the first woman he'd ever really loved.

Now, though, as he stood there staring at himself with intensity, listening to the guests gathering outside the door, he got ready to go to the alter and wait to watch Mimi walk down the aisle to him. They had made a spontaneous desicion to get married two weeks after Christmas Eve. The night she'd almost died made him realize just how fragile time was, and he proposed on New Year's Eve. They promised to spend the rest of their short lives together, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, till death do they part....

Fall To Pieces

2006-10-03T16:17:34Z

Fandom: Rent
Title: Fall To Pieces
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: Rocks my face off.
Pairing: Roger/April
Word Count: 661
Rating: R for suicide, general angst, swearing, drug use
Genre: angsty mcangst alot
Summary: Mark is worried about Roger and turns to the only person he thinks Roger will listen to; April. But things go wrong after that. Very, very wrong.
Notes: Quotes in Bold are from various episodes of Queer as Folk. Which I've never watched. Written for a challenge on speed_rent.
Spoilers: Who committed suicide?
Warnings: le angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or QaF

“You think you know him? You don’t.” Mark accused, his arms flailing wildly. April stood calmly, her arms folded neatly across her chest, and even though she shivered for want of a hit, she was very collected as she replied,

“I’d like to, but I never will as long as you’re around. Maybe I should just disappear. You’d probably like that, and he probably wouldn’t think twice about it.”

“April,” Mark began, starting to feel guilty for his harsh words.

“Forget it.” she sighed as the tears welled up in her eyes. She ran out of the room, hugging herself to shield against the biting cold that her worn sweater couldn’t even hope to protect her against. Days earlier, he’d confronted Roger about the very dangerous web he was weaving. When the only response he’d gotten was screaming and punches flying in his direction, he’d turned to the one person he thought Roger would listen to; April.

Unfortunately, their conversation about Roger had somehow turned into Mark blaming April for everything Roger had become and everything he’d left behind and now Mark was stuck. He decided he’d have to wait to talk to Roger until he came down, when he was easier to talk to. When he wasn’t violent. He would make him listen.

The day had started out like any other; the three of them in the living room, Roger and April either high, or contemplating becoming so, and Mark watching the two of them in disgust and pretending to be absorbed in his newspaper.

“You know what I want, baby?” Roger asked April, a gleam in his eye.

“Hmm?” she asked, moving closer to him and trailing kisses down his neck.

“To go out in a blaze of Glory. Like Cobain, James Dean…Hendrix. They’re all legends.” Roger explained dreamily. “They’ll always be young and they will always be beautiful.”

“And they’ll always be dead.” Mark interjected boldly.

“Life’s not worth living if you don’t take risks.” Roger said.

“You are un-fucking-believable.” Mark sighed.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business for once?” Roger shouted.

“Roger, you have got to stop this!” Mark insisted, standing up and advancing on his friend. “You’re killing yourself! Don’t you see that? Why can’t you see what you’re doing?!” Roger jumped up and stumbled forward, shoving Mark against the wall violently.

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do. Fuck off.” he said harshly, adding a punch to the stomach for good measure. Mark doubled over in pain and Roger stormed out of the loft. April offered a sympathetic, yet terrified smile in Mark’s direction before scurrying after him hesitantly. Coughing and wheezing, Mark began to sob.

“Maybe I should just disappear. You’d probably like that.”

The words reverberated off the tiled walls of the bathroom and echoed in his mind over and over again. Had it truly been only an hour earlier that she’d spoken them? How could it possibly be that the world could fall to pieces in so short a time?

“Mark, have you seen April?” Roger called, bounding happily into the apartment, a grin plastered on his face. Mark stood, frozen in time, staring at the tragic mess before him. “Mark?” Roger repeated, curious. He started towards the bathroom door, and Mark sprang into action.

“ROGER! NO!” he exclaimed, pushing Roger back into the kitchen with all his might.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked, easily pushing past his scrawny friend to peer into the bathroom. Before he could realize what had happened, Mark was between him and the doorframe.

“ROGER!” Mark shouted.

“Oh…Oh my God…” Roger stumbled backward, gagging and breathing heavily. “April…A-” he collapsed into Mark’s arms, hot tears streaming down his face. Mark held him tightly, unsure of what to do. Wanting to cry but not able to. Wanting to offer some comfort to his friend, but unsure of where to begin. “April…no…April…please, God…no…” Roger mumbled over and over again.

“Roger.” was all Mark could manage.

Deadly Secrets

2006-10-03T16:07:22Z

Fandom: Rent
Title: Deadly Secrets
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: is awesome
Pairing: Roger/April
Word Count: 719
Rating: R for mentioned sex, drug use, suicide
Genre: Le angst
Summary: Does anyone really know who gave who HIV? Is it possible that both of them had it, and neither knew it?
Spoilers: Who has AIDS? Who committed suicide? Who did drugs?
Warnings: graphic suicide
Disclaimer: iRent

“Erickson, April?” called a nurse from the doorway. She stood on shaky legs and walked down the hallway, with each step forward it seemed like she was moving a mile backward. Finally she made it to the exam room and took a seat on the table. “The doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse informed her before leaving her alone to think in the silent, sterile room.

Roger stared at himself in the mirror. His face was lined and his eyes were glazed. Who was this man? What had happened to the pretty boy front man? Roger Davis had been invincible at one time. Now--his eyes traced the track marks on his arms; scars of his wasted life. Where would he be now if he’d never taken that first hit? Where would his beautiful April be?

“The results came back from the lab this morning Miss Erickson.” The doctor said, checking his clipboard and avoiding her pleading gaze.

“And---what does it say?” she asked. The doctor took an excruciatingly long time to unfold the paper and hand it to her. She waited with bated breath before biting her lip and looking down at the white form in her shaking fingers. There, in small black letters were the words “PATIENT: Erickson, April. TEST: HIV/AIDS. RESULTS: Positive.”

He had contracted it from that girl at the club two months ago. Her name was--well--he didn’t remember, and it didn’t really matter. What did matter was that he had shared needles with her and fucked her three times that night. He had cheated on April. He had gotten HIV. Not only that, but he had passed it on to April before he’d known he was positive. She was out right now, getting groceries, she’d said. And when she came back, he would have to sit her down and tell her the truth. She was facing a death sentence because of a mistake he had made. Her life was over and it was his fault.

She had contracted it from The Man, a few weeks ago. She needed the smack--Roger needed the smack--that was how she justified it. She had followed him back to the alley across from the Cat Scratch Club and let him undress her. Let him press her against the wall. Let him take her body as payment for the drugs. Now here she was, slouched over on a cold metal table, sobs wracking her body. How was she going to tell Roger? Roger…she gasped in realization. The needles she’d shared with him since then! Had she infected him too?

Roger collapsed into his bed, fear converted to exhaustion, and let his eyes drift shut. He’d tell April in the morning. While Mark was out filming in the park.

April cautiously and quietly slipped into the bathroom of the loft and dug through the medicine cabinet frantically until she found what she was looking for: Roger’s razorblades. She started the bathwater calmly and prepared a needle full of the smack she’d bought from The Man on the way home and injected it into her vein before climbing into the tub. She held the razor tentatively and studied it, everything magnified by her high. As if hypnotized, she took the blade and ran it slowly across her wrist, applying pressure and sighing as she felt the pain seep through her body. She quickly did the same to the other wrist and watched the water turn red before her eyes. Eyes that slowly drifted closed for the last time.

“ROGER!!!” came a shriek from outside his bedroom door. Roger bolted upright and stumbled outside to find Mark supporting himself on the bathroom door frame and dry heaving above a puddle of vomit.

“What---?! What’s going on?!” he shouted. “Mark! What happened?!” he asked.

“A--April…She’s---Roger she’s---”

“She’s what?! Mark?! She’s what?!” Roger demanded. When Mark didn’t--couldn’t--answer him, he pushed past him into the bathroom and deadpanned. His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded against his ribcage at what he saw.

April’s body lay limp in the ceramic tub, her wrists draped in a gruesomely graceful fashion over the sides of the tub. The water was a deep red and her eyes were closed peacefully. On the mirror was a yellow sticky note with three little words:

We’ve Got Aids.

Roger collapsed.

Bohemian Idol

2006-10-03T16:01:40Z

Fandom: RENT (and American Idol I guess)
Title: Bohemian Idol
Author: pyraterose aka ficbykee
Feedback: Loved as always
Pairing: mentions of Mimi/Benny, Mimi/Roger, one-sided Joanne/Mimi
Word Count:
Rating: T for some mentioned stuff :)
Genre: crossover/crackfic in script-format
Summary: Mark as Ryan Seacrest, Joanne as Paula, Benny as Simon, Collins as Randy, the others perform on Bohemian Idol.
Notes: I know I'm a dork. Thank you very much.
Spoilers: Benny and Mimi used to date. Joanne's a lesbian. Everyone hates Benny.
Warnings: Written under the influence of Mountain Dew.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or American Idol (though I did try out this year)

MARK: Welcome back to Bohemian Idol! I am Mark Cohen and I will be your host for the next hour as we attempt to find the next superstar! Over there are your judges. Please welcome, the man you all love to hate--Benjamin Coffins the third!

BENNY: *gets booed*

MARK: Next, it’s our girl, Joanne Jefferson!

JOANNE: Hello everyone!

MARK: And finally, you all know him for his theory of actual reality--Tom Collins!

COLLINS: What’s up boy?

MARK: Tonight is a big night for our contestants as we’re down to the final four and, tonight one of these

People we’ve all come to know and love will be going home.

AUDIENCE: *groans*

MARK: I know, I know…

Now, if you’ll join me over here, we’ll talk to the contestants themselves. Over here are the people you’ve been voting for all season, give it up for Maureen Johnson! Roger Davis! Mimi

Marquez! And Angel Dumott Shunard!

AUDIENCE:*applauds/ whistles/ cheers/ squees/ woots /makes general noises of enjoyment*

MARK: The first one to sing last night was Maureen Johnson and she sang Gwen Stefani‘s hit, “Hollaback Girl“--tell us how you think it went?

MAUREEN: Well, it was a fun week and everything. I did my best and gave it my all. Unfortunately the digital delay went crazy on me and that really screwed me up.

MARK: Well, let’s see what the judges have to say--Collins?

COLLINS: Lemme tell you girl--you gave us a hot one last night!

JOANNE: You kept it together through the mess and gave the audience something to cheer about.

MARK: And, Benny?

BENNY: I have to disagree with you Joanne and Collins. I thought it was terrible.

AUDIENCE: *boos*

BENNY: I don’t mean to be rude, but it was like a terrible karaoke performance.

MAUREEN: Go to hell! (attempts to launch herself at BENNY, MARK holds her back.)

MARK: Okay…Maureen, time to sit down…After the break we’ll talk to everyone’s favorite pretty-boy front man, Roger Davis!

COMMERCIAL BREAK

MARK: Welcome back to Bohemian Idol! Roger, tell us about your performance from last night.

ROGER: Well, I sang Adam Pascal’s song “Model Prisoner”, and the audience seemed to enjoy it alright.

FEMALES IN AUDIENCE: *swoon*

MARK: You seemed to be enjoying yourself up there, but let’s find out what the judges thought.

COLLINS: You really picked the right song for your voice last night, man.

JOANNE: I agree, it was like the song was meant for you. It was amazing how much you sounded like Adam Pascal. I couldn’t have told the difference between the two of you. By the way, has anyone ever told you, you kind of look like Adam too.

BENNY: Well I could have told you the difference, Roger’s performance was terrible!

ROGER: Oh really? Why don’t you get up here and try it?

MARK: Okay! So! Roger? Would you like to say anything else?

ROGER: I want to say thanks to everyone who votes for me and say hello to my mom and the guys back in my band.

MARK: Next up is Mimi Marquez, the youngest contestant on our show to make it this far! Mimi, you sang “Like A Virgin” by Madonna last night, right?

MIMI: Yes, I did. And it was a lot of fun too.

MARK: You weren’t singing to a certain special someone, were you?

MIMI: Maybe.

AUDIENCE: *whistles*

MARK: There have been some rumors going around that you’ve gotten yourself involved in quite the little love-triangle, correct? You’ve been seeing both Benny, and--Roger?

FEMALES IN AUDIENCE: *boo and glare daggers*

MIMI: Benny and I dated a long time ago. He needs to get it through his skull that it’s over between us. Besides, he’s married. And Roger’s way better in bed anyway. And soooo sexy with his whole angst-y rock and roll god persona. Sometimes I just wanna pounce on him and---

MARK: Family show, Mimi! Family show!

MIMI: Oh, right…sorry.

MARK: Our final act last night was everyone’s favorite drag queen, Angel Dumott-Shunard.

AUDIENCE: *cheers and woots*

MARK: Angel, tell the audience about your performance.

ANGEL: Well, I sang Shania Twain’s “Man, I Feel Like A Woman”, and I just had a blast up there. Whatever happens tonight, I am happy with how I performed. And if I go home tonight, I’m just going to miss everyone so much.

MARK: We’d certainly miss you too, Angel. But before we find out who that person is, we’re going to take a break to pay the rent.

REDICULOUSLY LONG COMMERCIAL BREAK THAT WE ALL KNOW IS ONLY TO PISS OFF THE PEOPLE WATCHING THE SHOW ON TV. UNLESS YOU’RE LUCKY AND HAVE TiVO OR DVR LIKE ME. :P.

MARK: Welcome back to Idol! The results are in, and someone is going home tonight. Will the people with the first and second lowest number of votes will come down here by me when I announce your names? Okay. Through the ranks.

Maureen, you sang “Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani. Collins said you brought the house down, Joanne said she was impressed by the way you held it together after the equipment problems, Benny said it was like a terrible karaoke performance. America voted.…and Maureen, you are in the bottom two tonight. Come on down here.

AUDIENCE:*groans and boos*

MARK: Roger, you sang Adam Pascal’s “Model Prisoner”. Collins said you picked the right song, Joanne said you were Adam Pascal up there, Benny said you sucked….America voted, Roger you are safe!

AUDIENCE: *cheers*

MARK: Mimi, you sang Madonna’s “Like A Virgin”. Collins said it could use some work, and that your dancing was too provocative for someone your age. Joanne said your dancing was sexy and asked if you’d join her for a drink after the show. Benny said you were amazing, but probably only because you’ve been screwing him for the last six months.

Angel, you sang “Man, I Feel Like A Woman” by Shania Twain. Collins said he loves you more every week. Joanne said you were amazing, full of life and energy, Benny said that your Santa costume scared him. America voted, and Mimi, you join Maureen in the bottom two tonight.

AUDIENCE: *gasps/cheers*

MARK: Okay, you two have the lowest number of votes tonight. Judges, any words for these girls?

JOANNE: Mimi, that invitation is still open.

MIMI: Umm…thanks….

MARK: Well, the results are right here in my hand. Are you all ready to find out who’s going home?

AUDIENCE: *cheers*

MARK: Good! We’ll find out--after the break!

AUDIENCE:*boos/hisses/glares at MARK/pulls out pitchforks and torches/begins advancing on MARK.*

MARK: Or, we could do it now---yeah, yeah---now is good! Great! No time like the present, right?

AUDIENCE: *retreats*

MARK: Between Maureen Johnson and Mimi Marquez. Mimi---you are safe. Maureen, you are leaving us tonight. I’m sorry.

MAUREEN: Me!? I’m the best thing this competition’s got! How dare you kick me off?! It was Benny, wasn’t it?! That fuck! Let me at him! (ETC…)

MARK: Well, that’s all the time we have for tonight! See you next week on Bohemian Idol. Until then, It’s Cohen. Out.