And her blood was getting cold on his hands.
For speed_rent and fanfic100 (just the Benny part for fanfic100, actually... but whatever)
Title: Out Damn Spot
Fandom: RENT
Characters: Roger, Mark, Collins, Benny, Maureen
Word Count: 500
Prompt: 019. White (just for the Benny part)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Roger wasn’t the only one hurt when April died. A series of drabbles set after April's death.
Roger lurched forward as the ambulance turned a corner, catching himself on the stretcher before he fell. He steadied and took April’s hand again, both her fingers and his tacky with blood. “April, beautiful, open your eyes.” Her chest barely moving, the steady beep of machines monitoring pulse and respiration. “I need you here, you can’t leave.” She looked so pale, and the blood too bright on her arms, bold gashes on top of old scars and track marks. “Please, angel, just look at me. Open your eyes, god damn it.” And her blood was getting cold on his hands.
*
White porcelain tub, bright red blood, and Mark’s yellow rubber gloves. All in painful contrast to one another, jarring, but after a while Mark got used to it, as much as he could. The blood colored everything as he scrubbed at the bathtub, tried to get it clean once more. Stained the floor tiles and the porcelain, streaked on the gloves and even above that, on Mark’s arms. Another blood-stained shirt he’d have to throw out. Mark’s stomach lurched, and he fought down the sudden nausea. How the hell could this much blood come from two flicks of a razor?
*
“Roger,” Collins said softly, trying to make him meet his eyes. “I know you’re scared, but this isn’t the end of the world.” Roger kept staring out the window.
Collins sighed, glanced over at Mark and frowned. Mark quickly lowered his camera and started to fiddle with it, pretending he hadn’t been filming. Collins shook his head a little, turning back to Roger, though he knew he wasn’t making any progress. “Roger, April wouldn’t want-“
“I don’t fucking care what she’d want,” Roger snapped hoarsely. “She never asked what I wanted before she…” His voice trailed off into silence.
*
Benny sat at the back of the church. He didn’t want to come any closer to the front, because then he’d have to look at the coffin instead of focusing on the stained glass windows or the vaulted ceiling or the pew in front of him or anything else. The thing about April was that she was beautiful for her life, her vitality. Without it… she wasn’t April. He’d seen her before, in the hospital, after they cleaned her up, face so white she looked like a ghost, and cold, too damn cold. Seeing her like that once was enough.
*
Maureen huddled in the corner of the closet she and April used to share, grateful for the dark, the quiet. She pulled the sweatshirt she wore a little tighter around her-one of April’s, oversized, but it smelled like her. If Maureen pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself she could pretend it was April holding her. She could pretend they hadn’t put her best friend in the ground three days ago, that now she was as alone as she’d ever been. She could pretend April had cared enough to at least apologize for leaving.
Title: Out Damn Spot
Fandom: RENT
Characters: Roger, Mark, Collins, Benny, Maureen
Word Count: 500
Prompt: 019. White (just for the Benny part)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Roger wasn’t the only one hurt when April died. A series of drabbles set after April's death.
Roger lurched forward as the ambulance turned a corner, catching himself on the stretcher before he fell. He steadied and took April’s hand again, both her fingers and his tacky with blood. “April, beautiful, open your eyes.” Her chest barely moving, the steady beep of machines monitoring pulse and respiration. “I need you here, you can’t leave.” She looked so pale, and the blood too bright on her arms, bold gashes on top of old scars and track marks. “Please, angel, just look at me. Open your eyes, god damn it.” And her blood was getting cold on his hands.
*
White porcelain tub, bright red blood, and Mark’s yellow rubber gloves. All in painful contrast to one another, jarring, but after a while Mark got used to it, as much as he could. The blood colored everything as he scrubbed at the bathtub, tried to get it clean once more. Stained the floor tiles and the porcelain, streaked on the gloves and even above that, on Mark’s arms. Another blood-stained shirt he’d have to throw out. Mark’s stomach lurched, and he fought down the sudden nausea. How the hell could this much blood come from two flicks of a razor?
*
“Roger,” Collins said softly, trying to make him meet his eyes. “I know you’re scared, but this isn’t the end of the world.” Roger kept staring out the window.
Collins sighed, glanced over at Mark and frowned. Mark quickly lowered his camera and started to fiddle with it, pretending he hadn’t been filming. Collins shook his head a little, turning back to Roger, though he knew he wasn’t making any progress. “Roger, April wouldn’t want-“
“I don’t fucking care what she’d want,” Roger snapped hoarsely. “She never asked what I wanted before she…” His voice trailed off into silence.
*
Benny sat at the back of the church. He didn’t want to come any closer to the front, because then he’d have to look at the coffin instead of focusing on the stained glass windows or the vaulted ceiling or the pew in front of him or anything else. The thing about April was that she was beautiful for her life, her vitality. Without it… she wasn’t April. He’d seen her before, in the hospital, after they cleaned her up, face so white she looked like a ghost, and cold, too damn cold. Seeing her like that once was enough.
*
Maureen huddled in the corner of the closet she and April used to share, grateful for the dark, the quiet. She pulled the sweatshirt she wore a little tighter around her-one of April’s, oversized, but it smelled like her. If Maureen pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself she could pretend it was April holding her. She could pretend they hadn’t put her best friend in the ground three days ago, that now she was as alone as she’d ever been. She could pretend April had cared enough to at least apologize for leaving.