Summary - Mimi can't breathe.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or the song "Breathe Me" by Sia

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"Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before"

Oh no. Please no, I'd done it again after I'd promised. I had promised him. No, I'd sworn that I wouldn't even think of touching a syringe or heroin ever again but I did. What was I going to do now? I can't breathe. Roger was going to kill me or even worse, he might hate me. I couldn't bear the thought of that, the thought of him….. Oh god, I was such an idiot. I could lie and say that when I went to go find my drug dealer, Snake, I had no idea what I was doing, that I was out of it but that would taste a lie on my lips I couldn't bear to swallow. I had known. I knew how angry Roger would be at me then he would get that look and after he was done screaming me, he would look at me sadly then simply sulk on the couch as he plays his guitar. I couldn't bear to see that look again but yet now, I was going to have to and it was completely my fault.

"Hurt myself again today

And the worst part is there's no one else to blame."

I had been clean for a week. A whole fucking week and I had to ruin it like this. But it was the pain, I was frightened of it. Withdrawal brought on so much of it and I could barely handle any. I was a coward, I know. I'm a selfish bitch, I know and I hate myself for it because now I was causing Roger more pain than I could ever imagine feeling. Oh god, what was I going to do? I could try to hide the injection mark which was red and slightly swollen but with what? Make- up? No, I'd tried that once before and Roger had told the difference instantly, saying "The make-up was too rough" to match the texture of my skin. A long sleeve shirt? No, that wouldn't work either. Roger knew that I never wore anything long sleeved when I was inside especially when I was in our apartment. He would know that I was hiding something.

I dragged myself over to the bathroom and slammed myself into the sink, in a rush to see what I needed to. What I saw in the mirror disgusted me. My chocolate ringlets were knotted in some places and just looked dead in others. My skin was pale, not deathly but pale enough to implicate that something wasn't right. My eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and the dark circles around them implied this as well. A thin frame, with a skimpy tank top and short skirt plastered to it. I'd always been skinny. But what disgusted me most was the thing I clutched onto with my right hand. My syringe. The sight of something that usually filled me with joy and energy now turned my stomach and made me feel sick. I threw it aside, wincing lightly as it hit the wall and the thin needle snapped.

"Be my friend, hold me.

Wrap me up.

Unfold me."

Despite my increasing self disgust, my eyes began to burn and I could feel moisture stinging at them. What the hell was wrong with me? I could sit here and cry, I didn't deserve to. Crying was for the innocent and I most certainly wasn't. I knew I had only minutes before Roger would be home from Mark's. When I had moved in, Mark had moved out, not wanting to be in the line of fire for our fights, almost constant love making and Mark never said anything about it but I was pretty sure he didn't want to witness another friend go through the pain of withdrawal.

"I am small
and needy

Warm me up
And breathe me."

"Mimi, I'm back!" I heard Roger's cheerful voice ring out from inside the loft no more than an hour and a half minutes later. He was always in the best of moods when he came back from Mark's. They were best friends after all. It hurt me because I knew I was going to have to damper that rare, bright mood of his. I heard Roger's thundering steps behind me as he moved around the loft, looking for me. He always wore those dammed boots, even in the summer. When he didn't find me, he called out for me in slight confusion; "Meems, where are you?" I heard him ask.

"I'm out here." I reply weakly from my perch out on the fire escape.

"I have lost myself again.

Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found."

I hear him open the window and hop out onto the fire escape with me. "Shit, Meems!" he says as he walks over to me. "It's freezing, what are you doing out here? Look at you, you're shivering!" he exclaimed, rubbing my trembling shoulders. I wasn't shaking from the cold, it had been a little bit more than three hours since my last hit and the pains of withdrawal were beginning to take their toll on my poison filled body. I shake my head "Roger-please.." I start weakly.

"What's wrong?" he asks me immediately.

"Yeah, I think that I might break

Lost myself again and I feel unsafe."

I don't say anything for a few moments before I simply stuck my arm out for him to see the pink injection mark against my chocolate skin. He would know exactly what that mark was and what it meant. He looked down and frowned before turning away from me; I know things are only going to get worse from here. He runs his calloused hands through his golden hair in frustration and takes a deep, shaky breath. "I just want to know one thing; why?" he asked, not even attempting to hide the anger in his voice.

"Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me"

"I don't know." I reply meekly. I knew exactly why, I was scared of the pain, of actually being clean, having to live and no longer being able to hide behind my needle.

"Damm it, Mimi!" Roger growled "You were doing so damn good and you threw it all away for nothing? You can't even give me a fucking reason?"

"I'm sorry." I say simply, I don't go through my usually routine of fighting with him, begging for him to let me have one last hit and promising him that she would quit for sure after this. No, this time she knew it was her fault and that this madness had to stop. She wasn't sure how much more Roger could take of this or of her.

"You're always sorry but when are you ever going to change?" he hissed, turning to glare at her. "Because I'm beginning to think you never will and that you don't even want to change, that you don't even want me."

"I am small
and needy

Warm me up"

At this I turned and captured his hands in mine, using my eyes to plead silently with him. He had it all wrong, I wanted him more than anything else in this entire world, even when he was sad, I still wanted him and would always love him. I could see anger and pain burning deep in his pale green eyes as he glared back down at me. I hated it, I didn't just want to be another junkie to him, I wanted to try to be something. I tried to think of what to do to redeem myself in his eyes and only one thing came to mind; try. He continued to stare down at me and we stood there in silence for a moment before I saw something change deep in his eyes. Maybe he was giving up on me?

Roger sighed and slid his old, torn jacket off of his broad shoulders and held it open for me. "Come on, let's get you back inside." he replied softly.

"Rog, I'm sorry-"

"Yeah, yeah, just shut up and come here." he interrupted me.

I smiled and moved into his arms as he held out the jacket for me and wrapped it around my shoulders. Finally, I could breathe again.

And Breathe Me

A/N: Review and Roger shall wrap you in Snuggies.