A/N: I don't own RENT, it is under copyright from Jonathon Larson and other.

I also do not own the song Now or Never. It is copy written to Josh Groban and Imogene Heap. Also, this is very depressing and contains character death. You have been warned.

Now Or Never

I watch the morning dawn upon your skin, a splinter in the light,

It caught and frayed the very heart of us, it's been hiding there inside for all this time.

Roger turned to watch Mimi as she slept on his couch. She'd come to his apartment late last night, shaking and sweating at the same time. Without a word, he'd taken her into his arms and held her, stroking her hair until she stopped shaking enough to talk.

"It's not the drugs," she said. "I'm clean, I swear."

He believed her, but he didn't want to. "For once I wish it was," he muttered so softly she couldn't hear him. He had led her over to the couch and helped her lay down. Grabbing a blanket, he covered her up with it and pulled up a chair. Sitting down, he sang to her until she fell asleep.

Now he was watching her again, toying with the small black box he'd kept hidden in his sock drawer. He could see her shaking under the blanket and he put out his hand, resting it on her forehead.

How'd a sure thing wind up just like this? Clockwork silence only knows

That it's no one's fault, there's no black and white only you and me on this endless night.

"Hey babe," she said softly. "You sleep in that chair all night?"

Roger nodded, suddenly too embarrassed to speak.

And as the hours run away with another life oh darling can't you see it's now or never?

Without a word of explanation, he pushed the small box into Mimi's hands.

Eyes dark with confusion, she opened the box, gasping at the small ring that lay inside.

"Will you marry me?" Roger asked.

"Yes," Mimi's voice was almost inaudible but Roger heard her. He got up from the chair and knelt beside the couch. Taking her impossibly tiny hand in his, he slipped the ring onto her finger.

"So big," she murmured, stroking Roger's hand, a glint of the old mischief in her eyes.

Roger laughed, remembering the day they had met. He'd been so depressed, he hadn't thought he could love anyone again. Not after April. And now…A sharp caught drew his attention back to the bed. Mimi was trying to sit up.

Sweeping eggshells still at 3 AM, we're trying far too hard.

Roger hurried to her. Putting an arm behind her back, he helped her sit up.

The tattered thought balloons above our heads, sinking in the weight of all we need to say.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, panting as sweat dripped off her forehead. "I should tell you, I should tell you," she whispered.

"Ssh," Roger whispered, putting a finger to her lips. "I know." He gently scooted her fragile body down on the couch and sat beside her. She put her head back on his shoulder and he wrapped both arms around her waist.

"I should tell you, I should tell you," he sang into her ear.

"I know," Mimi whispered, closing her eyes.

Why's and what if's have since long played out, left us short on happy endings…

Mimi's breathing grew labored and Roger helped her sit up, holding her upright in his arms. Propping her up with one hand, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mark's number. "Don't ask questions, just get the Justice of the Peace down here," he barked as soon as Mark answered the phone.

For once in his life the filmmaker complied. "Ok," he said softly, hanging up.

"Come on Meems. You can do this," Roger whispered.

You know that there's so much more…

The Justice of the Peace arrived about thirty minutes later. Mark followed him into the apartment and watched, tears in his eyes as Mimi and Roger were married. Mark was the only witness. Roger had to hold Mimi's hand to help her sign the license. After collecting both copies, the j judge walked out, shutting the door behind him.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Mark said. The couple didn't answer –but then Mark really wasn't expecting one. He walked out, closing the door.

And it's no one's fault, there's no black and white, only you and me on our final night...

Lying beside her, Roger gently stroked Mimi's hair. She had finally stopped trembling and now her skin burned under his hand. He had given up trying to cool her down.

"Please just stay with me, I need you more then I need some stupid rag on my head." She had tried to make her voice sharp, and Roger couldn't answer for a minute because of the lump in his throat.

"Ok baby, whatever you say," he said finally. Abandoning the washrag on the bedside table, he had lay down, gripping her hand and rubbing her head.

And it's no one's fault, there's no black and white, only you and me on our final night and as the hours run away with another life…

Mark's phone rang at three AM. He picked it up, fingers shaking. Before he could answer, the caller hung up. But he saw who it was. Throwing on his clothes over his pajamas, he ran out of his apartment and up to the second floor. Without bothering to knock, he walked into the loft, then into the bedroom. He saw Roger still sitting on the bed, holding Mimi's now cold hand.

And as the hours run away with another life, oh darling can't you see it's now or never?