[fic] when we cry out they've not died in vain
when we cry out they've not died in vain
Fandom: Rent
Rating: PG
Ships: none
Summary: Mark and his friends have a new, solemn tradition.
A/N: Hanukkah drabble #6. No, it's not the crossover I was mumbling about yesterday. This is set some years after the show and it's 175 words.
Mark lit the first four candles in silence, not because he couldn't remember the prayers he'd been taught at Temple Shalom years ago, but because those weren't the words tapping insistently at his clenched teeth. He supposed the flames were reflected in his glasses and was glad because that meant that Maureen, Joanne, and Benny probably couldn't see his eyes.
At the fifth candle, he faltered.
He stood very still for what seemed a long time, and the others stood watching him until Maureen noticed that blue wax was dripping onto his skin. Then she moved around the little table, plucked the shamas from his stiff hand, and lit the fifth candle.
"Angel," she said thickly.
Joanne took the shamas from her. "Mimi," she said, lighting the sixth candle.
Benny, looking less comfortable in his new blazer than he did in Mark's small, messy studio, lit the seventh. "Collins."
Maureen kissed Mark's cheek, and he felt his body again. He took the shamas from Benny and lit the last candle on the menorah.
"Roger."
12/21/06
Fandom: Rent
Rating: PG
Ships: none
Summary: Mark and his friends have a new, solemn tradition.
A/N: Hanukkah drabble #6. No, it's not the crossover I was mumbling about yesterday. This is set some years after the show and it's 175 words.
Mark lit the first four candles in silence, not because he couldn't remember the prayers he'd been taught at Temple Shalom years ago, but because those weren't the words tapping insistently at his clenched teeth. He supposed the flames were reflected in his glasses and was glad because that meant that Maureen, Joanne, and Benny probably couldn't see his eyes.
At the fifth candle, he faltered.
He stood very still for what seemed a long time, and the others stood watching him until Maureen noticed that blue wax was dripping onto his skin. Then she moved around the little table, plucked the shamas from his stiff hand, and lit the fifth candle.
"Angel," she said thickly.
Joanne took the shamas from her. "Mimi," she said, lighting the sixth candle.
Benny, looking less comfortable in his new blazer than he did in Mark's small, messy studio, lit the seventh. "Collins."
Maureen kissed Mark's cheek, and he felt his body again. He took the shamas from Benny and lit the last candle on the menorah.
"Roger."
12/21/06