You Remind Me

LiL Pippin Padfoot

Disclaimer: Again, don't own!

Flashbacks will be in italics.

Roger had a bad feeling. He rolled out of bed, and sleepily walked outside. The bitter wind whipped around him, and woke him up. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair and sighed. He was so tired. When he had fallen asleep earlier, his dream, her blue eyes, on Mimi's face… he couldn't go back to sleep and see Mimi or April. He'd stay awake for the rest of his life.

He went back inside, no use killing himself yet. 'Yet.' He thought, smirking. 'April felt it was time, then why shouldn't I?' he blinked back the tears and memories that threatened to overflow. He thought about what Mark said. He couldn't have April back, but maybe… He didn't think, he wrenched open the door, and ran down the stairs.

He opened the door, unlocked, like last time. He ran to Mimi's room. "Mimi…" but his voiced died in his throat, she wasn't there. He paused, listening. The bathroom, he could hear heavy breathing.

Mimi was on the edge of the bathtub, her hair wet with perspiration, sweat dripping all over, rocking back and forth, and dry heaves making her wretch forward sporadically. "Oh, Mimi." Roger breathed, and rushed over to her. Her dark brown eyes, gazed into his. They weren't completely coherent of what was happening, but she recognized him, and she trusted him. Her long lashes closed, and she pitched forward.

"Oh Mimi," Roger said again, catching her. He scooped her up, and carried her out of the bathroom. He carefully picked his way back up to the loft.

He sat her down on the couch, and her eyes opened, she was shaking. Roger sat across from her, putting his hands on her face, her neck, pulling her closer to him. She leaned against him. Suddenly, Roger broke into a cold sweat, this was too familiar.

Roger had a little gig at a café up town. He knew April hadn't been feeling good, and had gone to the doctor. He rushed up the stairs, guitar case banging against his legs. He couldn't wait to tell April how much they cheered. April always loved his shows, and maybe it'd make her feel better.

He opened the door, and noticed something unusual… it was quiet. Even when April was resting, or coming off a high, she had music going. Along with Maureen hanging around with Mark, it had never been this quiet. The bathroom door was ajar, and the light was on.

"Babe," he called. "You don't need to put make-up on just 'cause I'm home." He had always teased April about how much make-up she wore, she never believed that she was beautiful with or without it. But this time, she didn't scoff and give him a play punch on the arm. It remained silent. Something was wrong.

He slowly walked toward the bathroom, and pushed the door open. "No," he said. His voice choking, and the muffin and coffee he had at the café threatened to come up. April. The entire bathroom was gone, the only thing he could see was April, in the bath tub, covered in blood. He took two steps, the longest steps of his life, and fell down on his knees. He cradeled her lifeless body in his arms, not realizing the blood was staining his clothes a pinkish-crimson.

Mark walked up to the landing, him and Maureen were walking up to the landing arm in arm. 'That's strange,' Mark thought. 'Why is the door open?'. "Wait here," he told Maureen, "Something's wrong." "What?" she asked, following Mark into the apartment anyway. Mark heard sobs coming from the bathroom. He walked in. "Oh my god." He said, seeing Roger rocking back and forth with April's body lolling around in his arms, the blood swirling in the water filled bathtub. Roger's tears streaming down his face.

"Oh my god!" Maureen schreeched. "I'm calling the police! You better have paid this month!"

"Roger," Mark said, leaning down so he was face to face with his friend.

"Mark, she's gone."

"I know," Mark said quietly. "Why don't you put her down, and we'll go out."

"No!" said Roger, "I'm staying!" Mark put his hand on Roger's shoulder. "Okay." He said. "Maureen's called the police, they'll be here soon."

"Oh god." Roger said. "I can't let her go."

Mark turned and saw the bathroom mirror covered also in blood. 'No, wait…it's just lipstick, that hideous color that Roger bought April last Valentine's day, she only wore it once, that Valentine's day, it meant the world to him.' He leaned closer to read it.


I have HIV, that means you do too. I'm so sorry. I love you.


Mark paled, and looked at Roger, covered in April's blood. He couldn't… He can't… Not Roger. 'I won't tell him now. It's too much.' And Roger stepped out.

Roger held tighter to Mimi, tears streamed out of his eyes and into her hair. That night was so vivid in his mind.

After the police came and went, taking April with them, He had walked in the bathroom, covered in red. The bathtub, the floor, and … the mirror? He walked over and read what she wrote. His heart beat quicker. "No." he said. "No!" he yelled. "April? How could YOU!" he screamed, then he punched the mirror, shards flying into his hands cutting them, and spreading glass everywhere. "DAMMIT!" he yelled, his word ringing around the bathroom. "Dammit." He whispered, tears once again falling. His life was over.

"Roger?" Mimi asked weakly. "Shhh, I'm here." He said. "I'm here."

"Roger…" she said again. "I love you."

Roger didn't hesitate. "I love you too."