”The boundaries between life and death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where one ends and where the other begins?” Edgar Allen Poe Justin stood dry-eyed as the coffin was lowered into the ground. There were only a handful of them left at the graveside. On his left his mother and Daphne occasionally dabbed at their eyes with tissues. To his right, Ben and Hunter tried to comfort Michael who was sobbing openly. The others, Deb, Vic, Mel, Linz and Em, stood behind him. He knew they were still there because he could hear them sniffling. Justin kept his eyes on the coffin, refusing to look up and risk catching a glimpse of Brian’s mother and sister standing across, and apart, from the rest of them. It didn’t seem real that Brian could be dead. It’s not real, he told himself as he watched the vault being sealed. * Refusing to be part of what he saw as a hypocritical pretense of ‘a loving family’ show, Justin did not go with the others to Brian’s mother’s house. Instead, he went to the loft. He stripped out of the uncomfortable suit and tie that reminded him too much of his St. James days, and climbed into bed. He pulled Brian’s pillow to him and inhaled his lover’s familiar scent. His mind rebelled at thought of Brian being gone. It was less than seventy-two hours ago that they had shared this bed, Brian had held him, fucked him, fallen asleep beside him. Why would he leave in the middle of the night without waking me? Justin squeezed his burning eyes shut and yet he still didn’t cry. There was an anger growing inside him- at Brian for not telling him what he had planned, at himself for not figuring out Brian was up to something, at fate for being such a motherfucker…but mostly the anger was directed at Stockwell. Justin was as sure as he had ever been about anything in his life that Stockwell was behind Brian’s death. Brian’s dead. He made himself think the words. The dull ache in his stomach became a throbbing pain that moved up and took root in his heart. “I promise you, I won’t let him get away with it,” Justin vowed. A single tear rolled down his face and dripped off his chin like a drop of rain. * A clicking sound and the sliding of the loft door woke Justin from a fitful sleep. He sat up slowly, expecting to see Brian, plastered and horny, coming home after a night at Babylon…then he remembered…Brian’s death wasn’t a nightmare he could simply wake up from. He rubbed his gritty feeling eyelids, but it was too dark to see who was walking towards the bedroom. “There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Michael said, weariness evident in his voice as he came over and sat on the foot of the bed facing Justin. “No one looked for me here,” Justin replied, propping his chin on his raised knees. “Yeah, pretty stupid of us to think about this place last…but then, I guess none of us are thinking very clearly right now.” Michael pulled out his cell phone and called Ben to let him and the others know he had found Justin. “No,” he said quietly when Ben asked if Michael needed him to come over. “I’ll be home later, if you’ll just let Jennifer and Ma know he’s okay. Yeah, thanks. Love you too,” Michael said before ending the call. He gripped the phone tight in his hand for a second as he swallowed hard, more grateful than ever to have Ben in his life. He tucked the phone in his pocket and fought the tide of memories that every little thing in Brian’s loft threatened to let loose. “Am I okay?” Justin asked looking up at Michael through the shaggy bangs partially covering his eyes. “You told Ben to tell them I’m okay.” Something dark and cracked inside Michael suddenly healed. All the jealously and hurt he had felt over Justin’s presence in Brian’s life vanished as if it had never existed. He felt tears gathering in his already red-rimmed eyes and roughly brushed them away. He smiled a watery smile at Justin, realizing he and Gus were real, tangible ties to his best friend. “Yeah, you are. We both are, or at least we will be. He’d want us to be.” Michael took a deep breath, determined not to cry any more today. Then he did something that surprised them both- he moved up on the bed and wrapped his arms around Justin’s thin, bare shoulders, enfolding him in a hug meant to comfort and reassure. Justin was surprised because he wasn’t privy to Michael’s change of heart about him, Michael because he was being the strong one while it seemed the world was crashing down around them both. “We will be okay.” Michael pulled back to look Justin in the eye. “We’ll help each other get through it. And we’ll push fucking Stockwell to find who did this, we won’t let him sweep it under the rug like all those others…like we don’t fucking matter!” “It wasn’t a mugging,” Justin said intently. “Stockwell is responsible, I know he is!” “Justin…” “No, listen to me! Brian went to see him the day before he was murdered. Stockwell knew he was looking for a way to implicate him in the cover up of Jason Kemp’s murder. Brian must’ve hatched some sort of scheme, that’s the only reason he would have gone out in the middle of the night. I don’t know how, but Stockwell found out and stopped him. Permanently.” Michael rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. “Even if that’s true…and that’s a big if…there’s no fucking way we can ever prove it. He’s untouchable. He’s the goddamn chief of police, soon to be mayor.” Michael’s eyes met Justin’s. “Who are people going to believe…the fine upstanding man of the people, or us, the fags who would do anything to stop Stockwell?” “Then I’ll just have to find evidence that can’t be refuted.” Justin stood and walked across the bed in his underwear, stepping down to where he left his clothes piled and began pulling them back on. “I won’t let him get away with this, Michael. I can’t.” “I know…but, Jesus Christ, Justin!” Michael stopped and started again, his voice calmer. “If you believe Stockwell killed Brian, or had him killed, do you really think he’d hesitate to do the same to you if you go snooping around, especially this close to the election?” “I don’t care.” Justin finished buttoning his shirt and shoved his feet in his shoes and his tie in his pocket. He looked evenly at Michael still sitting on the bed. “You can help me or not, it’s up to you…but I won’t give up until Brian’s murderer is behind bars.”