A/N: I was listening to Rent and this idea just came to me. Enjoy.

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Samantha got home from worked, unlocked her door, and walked into her house. She sank down onto a sofa, feeling the upholstery conform to her body. It had been a hard day. She grabbed her iPod from a walnut end table. She knew she needed to get up and fix herself something to eat, and do some laundry, but music would help her feel better. It would never heal the hole left in his absence, but it would preoccupy her for a little while. She put her iPod on shuffle, and ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair, like he hushed to, massaging her scalp, trying to get rid of her headache. Like somebody upstairs was mocking her, the first thing that came up was his WrestleCast. She skipped it. She knew what it said: "I'm single, I like brunettes," and just that, the awful knowledge, broke her heard anew. Tears began to spill down her face as the next song played.

Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.
Without you, the seeds root, the flowers bloom, the children play.
The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.
The earth turns, the sun burns, but I die without you.

Samantha thought the song described her perfectly, as her mascara streaked down her face, borne by tears. Mimi was pining after Roger, her true love. Only, unlike in Samantha's case, Roger missed Mimi as much as Mimi missed Roger. Here, in her house, where no one could hear her, she burst into a fresh round of tears.

Without you, the breeze warms, the girl smiles, the cloud moves.
Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die without you.

Samantha's eyes darted to the end table seemingly on their own, and his picture there. He had gone to the kitchen of the home they shared—not the empty jail she lived in no—to get some food for the big game, and she had been ready with the camera when he returned. He had a bag of chips and a jar of salsa in one hand, a six-pack in the other, and a slice of pizza clamped between his perfect teeth. He looked adorable, his blue eyes—oh, so blue—wide with surprise as he saw the flash. She almost giggled at the memory, then her eyes saw the princess cut diamond ring lying on the table in front of the picture. Her engagement ring. She tried to tell herself that that part of her life was over, that he was never coming back, but it didn't take. She knew he wasn't coming back, but couldn't bring herself to put the ring or the picture away.

The world revives, colors renew, but I know blue,
Only blue, lonely blue, within me, blue, without you.

He was beautiful. When he was kissing her with morning breath, or stepping out of the shower, or lounging in front of SportsCenter, or when he was naked and they explored each other's bodies in new, exciting ways, he was so achingly beautiful.

Samantha didn't think she could go on without him. She would have given anything to have been able to move on, to live her live, instead of crying over him all night, but she didn't have the strength. He had affected her too much. He was her lover. He was her love.

Without you, the hand gropes, the ear hears, the pulse beats.
Without you, the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breath.
The mind churns, the heart yearns, the tears dry, without you.
Life goes on, but I'm gone, cause I die without you.

When she heard the knock at her door, she made no effort to staunch her tears, They flowed freely down her beautiful face, mascara-tinted drops staining her white blouse as she opened the door.

Without you.
Without you.

When he stepped though her door, Samantha's heart stopped. She thought she was dead. When he kissed her she remembered she was alive.

Without you.

Randy.