Fic: The Story Never Ends
Title: The Story Never Ends
Chapter: 4/25
Character/Pairings: Canon pairings
Word Count: 1,769
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: The bohemians continue their lives as they attempt to help out a new friend. However, in doing so, they end up getting seriously involved in a string of mass rapings and murders that has erupted in the city.
Notes: The first RENT fic I ever wrote. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this? It's obvious I own nothing.
“Okay, this is the place that person on the phone said Mark was, right?” Roger eyed the small horde of children that were racing around the room. The two had just arrived at the place the person on the phone had said to come to in order to pick up Mark. But there was not a sign of any adults in the place, let alone Mark.
“Well, try asking someone.” Mimi suggested.
“Like who? Look at this place: All kids, no adults!” Roger sighed as he stopped a random kid who was running by with a whistle in his mouth. “Hey, kid! Where’s a grown-up we can talk to?” The kid stared blankly up at Roger before replying in nothing but a short blow into his whistle and hurrying off. “Hey! Come on!” Roger groaned, scowling at Mimi when she started to laugh.
“You’re pretty!” A voice stated. Looking down, they saw a strawberry-blond haired girl smiling up at Mimi.
“Thank you.” Mimi smiled back at the girl. “Could you help us? We’re looking for our friend.”
“Oh! You must the friends of the guy on the bike!” The little girl grinned. “This way. He’s upstairs with Emily and Dr. Jordan now.” Roger and Mimi followed the girl up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, coming to a room where Mark was sitting on the edge of a bed, with Dr. Jordan shining a small light into his eyes.
“Mark!” Roger said as he and Mimi walked in. “Are you okay?”
“He’ll be fine,” Dr. Jordan announced. “Good news, Mr. Cohen. You don’t have a concussion. You’re very lucky.”
“Thanks again for stopping by, Dr. Jordan.” Emily thanked the doctor for the second time, sitting on a stool in the corner.
“No problem whatsoever, Miss Goodhall. Call me again anytime.” With that, the doctor left the room.
“How’d you guys know where I was?” Mark turned to his friends.
“Someone called the loft and told us you had an accident.” Mimi explained.
“Oh, so I did call the right number, good!” Emily beamed, pulling up her pant leg and rubbing an alcohol swab on her skin above the knee. “I was worried I’d called the wrong place. Once again, I love your voice mail. I’ll say it again; it’s really clever.”
“Guys, this is Emily. Emily, these are my friends, Roger and Mimi.”
“Hello to both of you.” Emily nodded in acknowledgement, before taking something about of the blue case she was still holding.
“What’s that?” Roger froze, looking at the object in shock. When Mark looked over, he saw Emily was holding a syringe, and instantly realized that Roger was no doubt forming his own conclusions about its purpose.
“Roger, calm down,” Mark assured quickly. “It’s not the type of needle you’re probably thinking about. Emily explained to me before you got here. She has diabetes. That’s one of her insulin shots.”
“Insulin?” Roger instantly began to relax.
“Yeah, what did you think it was?” Emily cast a puzzled look at the three friends, as she returned the safety tip back on the now emptied insulin needle. Mark suddenly gave Roger and Mimi an uneasy glace, as if wondering if he should mention it to Emily this soon. Noticing this, Roger gave a quick nod, nonverbally giving his best friend permission.
“Well,” Mark began slowly. “Roger and Mimi, here. They… used to be junkies. Roger’s been clean for over two years now, and Mimi is on her way to becoming clean. But, well, Roger has a tendency to have little patience for people who still use heroin.”
“Oh. So they were both heroin addicts.” Emily nodded in understanding. With that, Emily returned her attention back to her used insulin shot, carefully bending the needle point back until it snapped off, before promptly dropping the pieces in a nearby wastepaper basket. “I prefer that my insulin needles can only be used once.” She explained, noticing the confused looks on Mark, Roger and Mimi's faces. “I once caught a guy digging through our trash outside, for who knows what. So I like making sure.”
“Wait, you’re just leaving the subject there?” Mimi blinked in surprise.
“I don’t think I understand the question, Mimi.”
“Well, usually, when someone finds out that Roger and I were on smack,…”
“You’re asking me why I’m not treating you two like you've got monkeys growing out of your heads, am I right?” Emily chuckled. “Truthfully, the way I see it, who am I to judge? That’s God’s job. And in addition,” Emily turned to Roger. “You don’t have to worry about me going down that way, Roger. I can assure you of that. For starters, I’m still diabetic. Insulin is not exactly cheap, you know. After the insulin, and other daily necessities, I really can’t afford to spend money on things like that.” Mark, meanwhile had started to move off the bed and started collecting his bike and camera.
“Thanks again for your help, Emily. I appreciate it.” Mark stated.
“No trouble at all, Mark. But you’ll have to excuse me, now. Since your friends are here, and Dr. Jordan said you’re fine, I need to get back to my duties here at The Center. You understand, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
-----
Mark, Roger and Mimi followed Emily to the entry room, where the kids were still racing around.
“Well, then. I guess I’ll see you around, maybe.” Emily nodded, as the three friends moved toward the door. As they were about to leave however, the stawberry-blonde haired girl who had helped Roger and Mimi find Mark hurried up.
“Emily!” She cried, looking distressed about something.
“Penny! What’s wrong!”
“It’s Sammy! He’s tripped and fallen in the playroom! He’s skinned his knee!”
“Quick, Penny, get the first aid equipment!” Emily ordered as she hurried out of the room double quick. After a momentary pause, Mark, Roger and Mimi followed after her. Once in the playroom, they instantly saw a handful of kids standing near a six-year-old boy, the same boy who had the whistle. The boy was currently clutching his bleeding knee in pain.
“Hey, it’s that kid with the whistle!” Roger realized.
“Yes. Sammy’s a mute, so he uses his whistle to communicate.” Emily stated, turning as the girl she had called Penny raced in and handed her a tin crate labeled ‘First Aid Supplies’. But as Emily started to go up to tend to Sammy, she saw Mark moving down to look at the bleeding knee.
“MARK, DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Emily shouted, causing the filmmaker to jump. Emily quickly knelt next to Sammy, gently but firmly pushing Mark aside, and opened up the tin box, removing a box of examination gloves. Only once her hands were protected by two pairs of gloves did she start to tend to the wound, making a clearly conscious effort to avoid physical contact with the boy’s blood.
And then, Mark understood why Emily had freaked out when she had seen him trying to help Sammy. Looking up at Roger and Mimi, he could see in their faces that they realized it too.
Sammy was HIV positive.
-----
As soon as Sammy’s wound had been properly treated and he had hobbled off to The Center’s bedroom upstairs, with two other boys helping him along, Mark followed Emily to a small sink that was positioned in the corner of the room, where she began thoroughly scrubbing her hands.
“Emily? That boy, Sammy. He….” Mark paused before continuing. “He’s HIV positive, isn’t he.”
“Yes. He is.” Emily replied after a brief hesitation. “Him and half the children here. That’s why The Center exists. Oh sure, we do get the occasional teen pregnancy child, whose parents did not want a child, or couldn’t afford one, but for the most part, this place is, more or less, a dumping ground for the children no one wants: children who are born HIV positive, or with drug addictions.”
“And you take care of them all?” Mimi asked, clearly stunned and touched.
“And why not? Someone’s gotta do it, and if not me, who?”
“But… aren’t you afraid you’ll get AIDS from one of them?’
“Truthfully Mimi? I’m a little more afraid of getting something like Tuberculosis. HIV isn’t all that easy to get, after all, and I make an effort to take necessary precautions, such as two pairs of gloves instead of one, as you saw a few minutes ago.”
“All right, there’s something I don’t understand.” Roger began. “You take care of these kids, knowing full well that they wouldn’t be in the position they’re in now if their parents hadn’t gotten messed up in drugs, or gotten AIDS, in the first place. And yet, you still won't judge the parents?”
“Many people look at drug addicts and say they shouldn’t have started, that they are just stupid people who brought it all on themselves.” Emily explained. “As for me, I only wonder what made them start. Was it because a friend got them on drugs, and they trusted the friend, following the understanding that friends, by learned definition, never lead you astray? Was it because they were simply curious and obeyed basic human instinct to test curiosity? Or is it because their life was so horrible, they’d be willing to do anything to escape the pain and sadness they felt? Either way, fault rarely lies with one person alone. It’s usually a domino effect, one in which you could very easily get to the point when a bit of the blame lies with everyone on Earth. And you’d quickly become a very disagreeable person if you did that. As for the AIDS,” Emily trailed off, and momentarily fingered a silver heart locket that hung around her neck. “AIDS, like many other illnesses, does not discriminate. No one goes out into the world asking for something like that. No one.” Once again, Emily quietly fiddled with her locket. “On that note,” She stated quickly, “I really need to get back to my duties.”
“Okay.” Mark nodded. Once they were outside, Roger spoke again.
“I still can’t believe that girl is so willing to take care of all those kids!”
“Yeah.” Mark agreed. “But… I don’t know. I might have imagined it, but she seemed to get hesitant to continue talking when the subject came to AIDS.”
“Well, Mark, don’t forget.” Mimi added sadly. “She’s surrounded by kids who have it all day. A lot of those kids might not make it to their tenth birthday.”
“That’s true,” Mark nodded. “But somehow, I got the feeling it might be more than that.”
Chapter: 4/25
Character/Pairings: Canon pairings
Word Count: 1,769
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: The bohemians continue their lives as they attempt to help out a new friend. However, in doing so, they end up getting seriously involved in a string of mass rapings and murders that has erupted in the city.
Notes: The first RENT fic I ever wrote. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this? It's obvious I own nothing.
“Okay, this is the place that person on the phone said Mark was, right?” Roger eyed the small horde of children that were racing around the room. The two had just arrived at the place the person on the phone had said to come to in order to pick up Mark. But there was not a sign of any adults in the place, let alone Mark.
“Well, try asking someone.” Mimi suggested.
“Like who? Look at this place: All kids, no adults!” Roger sighed as he stopped a random kid who was running by with a whistle in his mouth. “Hey, kid! Where’s a grown-up we can talk to?” The kid stared blankly up at Roger before replying in nothing but a short blow into his whistle and hurrying off. “Hey! Come on!” Roger groaned, scowling at Mimi when she started to laugh.
“You’re pretty!” A voice stated. Looking down, they saw a strawberry-blond haired girl smiling up at Mimi.
“Thank you.” Mimi smiled back at the girl. “Could you help us? We’re looking for our friend.”
“Oh! You must the friends of the guy on the bike!” The little girl grinned. “This way. He’s upstairs with Emily and Dr. Jordan now.” Roger and Mimi followed the girl up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, coming to a room where Mark was sitting on the edge of a bed, with Dr. Jordan shining a small light into his eyes.
“Mark!” Roger said as he and Mimi walked in. “Are you okay?”
“He’ll be fine,” Dr. Jordan announced. “Good news, Mr. Cohen. You don’t have a concussion. You’re very lucky.”
“Thanks again for stopping by, Dr. Jordan.” Emily thanked the doctor for the second time, sitting on a stool in the corner.
“No problem whatsoever, Miss Goodhall. Call me again anytime.” With that, the doctor left the room.
“How’d you guys know where I was?” Mark turned to his friends.
“Someone called the loft and told us you had an accident.” Mimi explained.
“Oh, so I did call the right number, good!” Emily beamed, pulling up her pant leg and rubbing an alcohol swab on her skin above the knee. “I was worried I’d called the wrong place. Once again, I love your voice mail. I’ll say it again; it’s really clever.”
“Guys, this is Emily. Emily, these are my friends, Roger and Mimi.”
“Hello to both of you.” Emily nodded in acknowledgement, before taking something about of the blue case she was still holding.
“What’s that?” Roger froze, looking at the object in shock. When Mark looked over, he saw Emily was holding a syringe, and instantly realized that Roger was no doubt forming his own conclusions about its purpose.
“Roger, calm down,” Mark assured quickly. “It’s not the type of needle you’re probably thinking about. Emily explained to me before you got here. She has diabetes. That’s one of her insulin shots.”
“Insulin?” Roger instantly began to relax.
“Yeah, what did you think it was?” Emily cast a puzzled look at the three friends, as she returned the safety tip back on the now emptied insulin needle. Mark suddenly gave Roger and Mimi an uneasy glace, as if wondering if he should mention it to Emily this soon. Noticing this, Roger gave a quick nod, nonverbally giving his best friend permission.
“Well,” Mark began slowly. “Roger and Mimi, here. They… used to be junkies. Roger’s been clean for over two years now, and Mimi is on her way to becoming clean. But, well, Roger has a tendency to have little patience for people who still use heroin.”
“Oh. So they were both heroin addicts.” Emily nodded in understanding. With that, Emily returned her attention back to her used insulin shot, carefully bending the needle point back until it snapped off, before promptly dropping the pieces in a nearby wastepaper basket. “I prefer that my insulin needles can only be used once.” She explained, noticing the confused looks on Mark, Roger and Mimi's faces. “I once caught a guy digging through our trash outside, for who knows what. So I like making sure.”
“Wait, you’re just leaving the subject there?” Mimi blinked in surprise.
“I don’t think I understand the question, Mimi.”
“Well, usually, when someone finds out that Roger and I were on smack,…”
“You’re asking me why I’m not treating you two like you've got monkeys growing out of your heads, am I right?” Emily chuckled. “Truthfully, the way I see it, who am I to judge? That’s God’s job. And in addition,” Emily turned to Roger. “You don’t have to worry about me going down that way, Roger. I can assure you of that. For starters, I’m still diabetic. Insulin is not exactly cheap, you know. After the insulin, and other daily necessities, I really can’t afford to spend money on things like that.” Mark, meanwhile had started to move off the bed and started collecting his bike and camera.
“Thanks again for your help, Emily. I appreciate it.” Mark stated.
“No trouble at all, Mark. But you’ll have to excuse me, now. Since your friends are here, and Dr. Jordan said you’re fine, I need to get back to my duties here at The Center. You understand, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
-----
Mark, Roger and Mimi followed Emily to the entry room, where the kids were still racing around.
“Well, then. I guess I’ll see you around, maybe.” Emily nodded, as the three friends moved toward the door. As they were about to leave however, the stawberry-blonde haired girl who had helped Roger and Mimi find Mark hurried up.
“Emily!” She cried, looking distressed about something.
“Penny! What’s wrong!”
“It’s Sammy! He’s tripped and fallen in the playroom! He’s skinned his knee!”
“Quick, Penny, get the first aid equipment!” Emily ordered as she hurried out of the room double quick. After a momentary pause, Mark, Roger and Mimi followed after her. Once in the playroom, they instantly saw a handful of kids standing near a six-year-old boy, the same boy who had the whistle. The boy was currently clutching his bleeding knee in pain.
“Hey, it’s that kid with the whistle!” Roger realized.
“Yes. Sammy’s a mute, so he uses his whistle to communicate.” Emily stated, turning as the girl she had called Penny raced in and handed her a tin crate labeled ‘First Aid Supplies’. But as Emily started to go up to tend to Sammy, she saw Mark moving down to look at the bleeding knee.
“MARK, DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Emily shouted, causing the filmmaker to jump. Emily quickly knelt next to Sammy, gently but firmly pushing Mark aside, and opened up the tin box, removing a box of examination gloves. Only once her hands were protected by two pairs of gloves did she start to tend to the wound, making a clearly conscious effort to avoid physical contact with the boy’s blood.
And then, Mark understood why Emily had freaked out when she had seen him trying to help Sammy. Looking up at Roger and Mimi, he could see in their faces that they realized it too.
Sammy was HIV positive.
-----
As soon as Sammy’s wound had been properly treated and he had hobbled off to The Center’s bedroom upstairs, with two other boys helping him along, Mark followed Emily to a small sink that was positioned in the corner of the room, where she began thoroughly scrubbing her hands.
“Emily? That boy, Sammy. He….” Mark paused before continuing. “He’s HIV positive, isn’t he.”
“Yes. He is.” Emily replied after a brief hesitation. “Him and half the children here. That’s why The Center exists. Oh sure, we do get the occasional teen pregnancy child, whose parents did not want a child, or couldn’t afford one, but for the most part, this place is, more or less, a dumping ground for the children no one wants: children who are born HIV positive, or with drug addictions.”
“And you take care of them all?” Mimi asked, clearly stunned and touched.
“And why not? Someone’s gotta do it, and if not me, who?”
“But… aren’t you afraid you’ll get AIDS from one of them?’
“Truthfully Mimi? I’m a little more afraid of getting something like Tuberculosis. HIV isn’t all that easy to get, after all, and I make an effort to take necessary precautions, such as two pairs of gloves instead of one, as you saw a few minutes ago.”
“All right, there’s something I don’t understand.” Roger began. “You take care of these kids, knowing full well that they wouldn’t be in the position they’re in now if their parents hadn’t gotten messed up in drugs, or gotten AIDS, in the first place. And yet, you still won't judge the parents?”
“Many people look at drug addicts and say they shouldn’t have started, that they are just stupid people who brought it all on themselves.” Emily explained. “As for me, I only wonder what made them start. Was it because a friend got them on drugs, and they trusted the friend, following the understanding that friends, by learned definition, never lead you astray? Was it because they were simply curious and obeyed basic human instinct to test curiosity? Or is it because their life was so horrible, they’d be willing to do anything to escape the pain and sadness they felt? Either way, fault rarely lies with one person alone. It’s usually a domino effect, one in which you could very easily get to the point when a bit of the blame lies with everyone on Earth. And you’d quickly become a very disagreeable person if you did that. As for the AIDS,” Emily trailed off, and momentarily fingered a silver heart locket that hung around her neck. “AIDS, like many other illnesses, does not discriminate. No one goes out into the world asking for something like that. No one.” Once again, Emily quietly fiddled with her locket. “On that note,” She stated quickly, “I really need to get back to my duties.”
“Okay.” Mark nodded. Once they were outside, Roger spoke again.
“I still can’t believe that girl is so willing to take care of all those kids!”
“Yeah.” Mark agreed. “But… I don’t know. I might have imagined it, but she seemed to get hesitant to continue talking when the subject came to AIDS.”
“Well, Mark, don’t forget.” Mimi added sadly. “She’s surrounded by kids who have it all day. A lot of those kids might not make it to their tenth birthday.”
“That’s true,” Mark nodded. “But somehow, I got the feeling it might be more than that.”