Author's Note: There's so much to be said about this story that I don't know if I can fit it all into one author's note. First off, I've never taken this long a hiatus on anything. Sure, my oneshot series have taken over a year to finish, but not over a year between updates! I'm so sorry to my fellow RENTheads reading this, and hope you'll forgive me enough to at least read this short.

You might have guessed that I haven't had much interest in RENT fan fiction lately. College and "9" fan fiction got in the way of that fandom for a long time. However, there was one event in this past year that brought me back to RENT at times, and that was the death of my father. I've begun writing a lot of fan fictions about coping with loss since that, and this is another one about the subject as well as being somewhat dedicated to him. The title of this fan fiction comes from a song called "Wind Song" from the Animé "Jungle Emperor Leo," another recent interest of mine. I would definitely listen to the song with translated lyrics if you can find it online.

Once again, I'm sorry. Hope you enjoy this story and to wrap this whole shebang up, mojo in the next one!

*S. Snowflake.

Close to You

It was a cloudy October 31st. The cemetery was fairly quiet, save for the cries of a couple of party animals at the costume shop across the street. None of the bohemians at the graveyard were thinking about what particular holiday it was though. They were instead preoccupied with one particular grave.

The group had been at the grave for a while, all paying their respects. A man in a baggy brown jacket spent the longest amount of time there. His words to his former lover were undoubtedly the most heartfelt of all words said that day.

"Angel, as our friend Roger once said, I find I can't hide from your eyes," he quoted from the musician boho's great song.

Roger himself grimaced at the acknowledgment, but tried his best to be polite as his friend finished his speech.

"Collins," Joanne said, putting a hand on the man in the brown coat's shoulder, "I've got to leave for my case now."

"I should go too," Maureen added, clearly wanting Joanne's comfort in this sad situation.

"No problem," Collins replied sadly. "All a' you can go if you want."

Maureen and Joanne set off together with that. Roger and his girlfriend Mimi looked to each other and nodded before following Collin's advice.

"See you at the Life tonight," Roger called over his shoulder.

Collins didn't respond to Roger's comment. He didn't have much of an appetite at the moment, and thinking of eating at the Life Café wasn't an appealing thought.

Roger and Mimi weren't the last of the bohos to leave though; Mark was. He didn't speak, but he managed to keep eye contact with Collins for a moment before going his own way.

"It's only because he cares," Angel used to say.

Collins laughed at that thought. Some things Angel had said and done never left. Angel's plastic bag outfits were now all in Collins' possession and his motto, "Today for you, tomorrow for me" was a group saying as well as the title of Mark's rather successful (for starving artists, anyway) documentary.

Mimi, near death at the time, had sworn she had met Angel somewhere between earth and Heaven. To the day, none of the bohemians questioned her experience. Many a time, Collins had considered letting his health decline too so he could be with Angel, but he knew that would never be what Angel wanted. He knew that Angel wanted him to live as long and happy a life as he could before the virus took hold.

Their glasses of wine at the Life Café clanked quietly together in a toast. Wine was about the most expensive thing that Angel and Collins could afford at the café. But Collins scowled at the petty amount he could give his love. It could never be enough for someone as wonderful as Angel.

"What is it, honey?" Angel asked.

Collins tried to hide his discontent then. "What are you talkin' about? I'm fine."

"Don't try to lie to me," Angel said with a pout.

Collins sighed. "I just wish I could afford to get us some food. Or even better, go eat at some place better than this."

"Why?" Angel asked, "I like it here."

"I know, I like the Life too, but I want to give you something more special."

Angel smiled sweetly. "Darling, you already have."

Collins smiled back before leaning over and kissing Angel softly.

The couple drank through all of their wine before heading to Angel's temporary flat. It was such a modest little room, even more tiny with the drumsticks, boom box, and scraps of old clothing all around, but Collins didn't mind that. He enjoyed lying in bed beside Angel, talking before dozing off with him. The conversation of this particular night had happened a few times before, but none had proved quite as memorable a chat.

"Do you get scared about tomorrow?" Angel asked, "–About dying?"

Collins turned to face Angel. "Yeah, but not about me. I'm scared about you."

Angel bit his lip and looked away. "If I die first, promise you won't worry about me. I know you don't really believe in heaven, but just remember that."

Collins chuckled, thinking of something. "And if I go first, dump my ashes in the MIT philosophy classes. That'll teach em."

Angel laughed, but re-grew his grave tone. "I meant what I said."

There was a long pause between the lovers before Collins said, "No day but today."

Collins might well have stayed in that memory if he hadn't noticed the moisture on his cheek. His damned memories had reduced him to tears.

"Promise you won't worry about me," Angel's words echoed in his ears, "…just remember that."

But it wasn't really worrying about Angel that had reduced him, Collins realized. He was feeling sorry for himself. That wasn't what Angel wanted either, and yet he couldn't help the feeling of his heart chilling with sorrow.

Then, suddenly, Collins felt very warm. He couldn't place the source of the warmth, for it was from above, yet it certainly wasn't the sun. What on Earth could be causing this sensation? He didn't really care though. The warmth felt so good on his frozen heart and tear-stained cheeks that it seemed his pain was melting away.

Then a voice seemed to whisper, "Don't worry about me. No day but today."

Though the philosopher didn't believe in heaven or hell, he knew that he had just felt something extraordinary; beyond this earth even. Whether it truly was a miracle or a mere hope burning in his heart, Collins felt more at ease about Angel than he had in many months' time.

The End.