The room was dark and still. Having spent most of his life in a household full of women John Paul had learned to appreciate silence, even crave it at times, and solitude had often been a long desired luxury.
Sat on his bed with his bare back against the wall and pyjama clad leg clutched to his chest John Paul found none of the much needed peace in the empty silent room. The arms wrapped around his legs were chilled with the cold of the dark early morning but John Paul made no effort to rectify the matter. He didn't search for a top or seek the warmth of the duvet beneath him. He simply sat and stared into the dark, watching the shadows rise and fall on his walls, as an occasional car would pass by in the street outside, briefly illuminating his room through the gap in the curtains before the blackness reclaimed it.
In the dark John Paul imagined he could see shapes swirling before him. Dark mysterious puzzles before his eyes that his brain could not solve. The oppression of the blackness was complete and John Paul felt overwhelmed by its emptiness, by the total lack of anything. But the emptiness wasn't just in the room; it wasn't just contained within the four bare walls that housed John Paul's belongings. The emptiness was inside John Paul; it ran through his veins and made the cold of the room seem unimportant.
He wasn't certain if he had slept at all, the gravely feel to his eyes and the pounding of his head suggested not, but if he had managed to find any escape in slumber at all it had been brief and soon interrupted. Sleep and rest had eluded him for days. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the faces and hear the voices, every time he dreamed we would wake up in a panic, dripping with sweat and trembling from the terrors that haunted him even inside his own mind.
As he watched the darkness swarm around him John Paul saw the first rays of the early morning light begin to scratch at the sky, tearing a path through the inky black and heralding the start of a new day.
John Paul closed his eyes in the vain hope that he could hold back the morning for a few more minutes. He tried desperately to cling on to the empty blackness for a while longer but when he opened his eyes again he could see the daylight was already growing brighter.
John Paul sighed in defeat, as he had every morning for the last week, and dragged himself from his bed to confront the waking nightmare of another day.
---
Craig yawned as he stretched out an arm to hit at his alarm clock, silencing the high-pitched noise that broke into his dreams. Once the quiet had returned to his room Craig rubbed at his sleepy eyes and allowed them to slowly focus on his surroundings.
Craig's bedroom in his Dublin flat was little altered from the day he first moved in. Back then he had hated the place. It had seemed small and cold and empty, devoid of life or any feelings of comfort. Although in truth the only thing it had really been missing was the presence of John Paul McQueen, if the blonde haired man had shared the flat with Craig it would have felt like a palace, it would have felt like a home.
The walls had been painted a neutral shade of magnolia before he arrived and Craig had felt no inclination to change it, he had not even gone as far as to put up any posters. Instead the walls had remained blank and empty, reflecting how he had felt for so long in this world he didn't understand.
There had been a more recent change to Craig's bedroom however. On the small rickety cupboard beside his bed stood two framed photographs showing the two people he loved most in the world.
Picking up one of the pictures Craig went through his daily ritual of saying good morning to his mother. It had been six months since her death and every day the loss of her had become more bearable. It wasn't that the grief had ever left him, he didn't think it ever would completely, but the pain of it became something he could live with and it no longer overwhelmed him when he realised that he would never see her again.
Scooping up the second picture Craig smiled at the happy faces of the two schoolboys immortalised on the glossy paper. The two best friends who had been through so much together and come through it stronger than either of them had known they could be. The two best friends who had fallen in love, lost each other and then been drawn back together when Craig had needed the comfort of his dearest friend the most.
Craig ran his thumb over John Paul's gentle smile and felt the ache of the miles between them. He had returned home to Chester as often as he could since his relationship with John Paul had been renewed six months earlier but each happy reunion was all too soon followed by a tearful parting and Craig could hardly wait for the day University ended and he could go back home for good.
Craig hadn't spoken to John Paul in over a week and, although he missed hearing the man's voice, Craig had no reason to be worried. The increased workload from their respective universities had given them both less and less time to themselves and they both knew that they would never be able to settle for a "quick chat". John Paul had sent a text explaining that he needed to concentrate on his studies and talking to Craig was a wonderful distraction he could ill afford. Craig had reluctantly seen the sense of John Paul's words and since then the men had kept in touch through daily texts and occasional emails. Sometimes the texts would contain little more than "I love you", or "I miss you", but sometimes that was all they needed or wanted to hear.
Replacing the photographs on the cupboard Craig decided he should really get a new picture taken with John Paul the next time he was in Chester. Having a photograph of a boy in a school uniform by his bed was starting to look a bit perverted. The only other picture he had of the two of them that he treasured was kept tucked inside his wallet. The two young men dressed in rented tuxedos that they had hired for a school dance. The photograph that had been inside Frankie Osbourne's purse until the day she died.
Craig stretched to his full height as he climbed from the warmth of his bed, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face to chase away the remnants of sleep that were trying to cling to him.
A sudden noise in his room made Craig jump as he turned to see his mobile phone rattling its announcement of a call beside his two framed photographs.
Grabbing for the phone Craig smiled to himself, if seemed that someone couldn't keep to the deal after all.
"Morning sexy," Craig said as he answered the call.
"Oh…err… Craig… hi." The voice on the other end of the phone was definitely not that of John Paul McQueen.
"Linda? Is that you?"
"Yeah sorry, I've just nicked John Paul's phone while he's in the shower, I know he would never have given me the number." Linda's voice held none of the bubbly laughter that Craig usually associated with the young woman and he felt a wave of panic washing over him.
"What's wrong? What's happened?"
"Look Craig… it's not for me to tell you… but call John Paul yeah? Give it half an hour or so and then call him… please… he really needs you right now."
"Linda what is it? You've got to tell me…."
"I can't… shit he's out of the shower… I've gotta go… just call him…" Craig held the phone to his ear for some time listening to the silence of the disconnected call as the worry in him grew. Whatever had happened it was bad enough for Linda to call him and it was bad enough for John Paul not to have.
Craig watched his clock for twenty minutes after which he couldn't stand to wait another second and, with shaky hands he pressed the speed dial to connect him to John Paul.
The phone wrung a few times before it was answered.
"Craig, hi… I didn't expect to hear from you today," John Paul's voice was light and breezy as it always had been, but there was something else, a tone running underneath it that added to Craig's concerns.
"I was missing you," Craig said omitting the fact that Linda had prompted his call.
"I'm missing you too," John Paul replied as he sank back onto his bed. The sound of Craig's voice both comforted and devastated him. He wanted nothing more than to have Craig with him, to hold him and tell him everything was going to be OK. But Craig was in Ireland and for now that was where he belonged.
"So everything going all right?" Craig asked trying to sound casual.
"Oh you know," John Paul replied with a faked cheerfulness, "Study, work, same old, same old."
There was a pause and the two men listened to the sound of each other's breaths echoing down the telephone line.
"You sure?" Craig prompted.
"Course." John Paul had never been a good liar; it was one McQueen traits that seemed to have escaped him. And lying to people he loved was always hard for him. Lying to Craig was damn near impossible. In one word John Paul had implied that he was fine, but his voice had screamed that he wasn't and Craig could almost sense the tears that were falling down the young man's cheeks.
Craig sighed. Whatever was wrong John Paul wasn't going to volunteer the information freely so the only alternative was to confront him directly.
"Linda called me," Craig said slowly.
"What did she say?" The panic was evident in John Paul's voice and Craig longed to reach out and hold him.
"Not much… what's happened John Paul? I know something has… she wouldn't say what but…"
"Oh god Craig," John Paul's defences were broken under the weight of the concern in Craig's voice but as much as he wanted to share his burden with the man he loved he was also afraid to, afraid he would react the way most people had.
"Tell me John Paul… please… I can't stand knowing something's hurting you like this…"
John Paul roughly brushed the tears from his face and took a deep breath. He knew if the situation had been reversed he would have wanted to know, just like he knew he would have trusted Craig. John Paul hoped that Craig would trust him once he knew.
"The thing is Craig… I don't really know how to… I mean I don't even know why… but… shit I don't even know how to say it…"
"Just say it… what ever it is it can't be that bad."
"You might change your mind when you know…"
"So tell me…"
"I've been…" John Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "I've been accused of rape."
The silence was palpable and Craig almost let his phone slip from his fingers in shock.
"I didn't do it," John Paul blurted out.
"God no… no I know that," Craig assured him. As soon as the word had been uttered Craig had known of John Paul's innocence. He didn't doubt the man for a second. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Craig no, you don't have to… your studies…"
"John Paul," Craig interrupted in a firm voice, "This isn't open for discussion. I'll be there as soon as I can get a flight. You're not going through this on your own."
"Thank you," John Paul's voice was as small and broken as he felt but knowing that Craig would soon be there gave him renewed hope.
"Oh and John Paul?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
The call ended before John Paul could reply but he answered anyway. "I love you too," he whispered into his empty room.
---
Craig's phone fell from his hands and clattered to the floor. He had to get online, find a flight, pack, so many things needed attending to but they all had to wait until the shaking stopped.
How could anyone accuse John Paul of something so terrible? How could anyone ever believe that the kind gentle man was capable of doing something like that?
Craig jumped to his feet and ran to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time as the bile rose to his mouth and he vomited violently into the bowl. Tears ran down his face as he retched until his stomach was empty and his throat burned. But far worse than that was the terrible ache in his chest, the ache of knowing that John Paul had been suffering this alone but he wouldn't be alone for much longer.
---
John Paul's eyes were still damp and his phone still in his hand as he walked into the kitchen.
"Tea?" Linda asked as he approached.
"Something you want to tell me?" John Paul asked holding up his phone.
"He needed to know John Paul," Linda said calmly, "You need him here… if it was the other way around…"
"Linda… next time you feel like interfering in my life," He pulled the pretty blonde into a hug, "Feel free… thank you."
Linda hugged her friend close and John Paul appreciated the contact. So many of his "friends" had suddenly stopped returning his calls and so many girls who had once paused to chat in the university corridors now turned and walked the other way when they saw him coming. In so many peoples eyes John Paul McQueen was already guilty. But like Craig, Linda knew her friend, and she knew that John Paul would never have been capable of the things he had been accused of and her faith had been one of the few things that prevented John Paul from falling apart completely.
"He's coming home then?" Linda asked as she turned to make the tea.
"Soon as he can get a flight." John Paul confirmed.
"Good… it'll help… it will be OK you know John Paul."
"Will it… I don't see how."
"Because you're innocent, the truth will come out and everyone will see what a liar she is."
"I hope so," John Paul whispered as he took the hot drink from his flat mate, "I really hope so."
---
Craig hadn't noticed the rain start but as he sat on the taxi's back seat with his hastily packed overnight bag clutched tightly against his lap he saw the heavy drops splattering against the cars windshield before being swept swiftly away.
It had been over 24 hours since the telephone call that had brought him racing back to Chester and in those hours Craig hadn't slept or eaten or done anything but worry about John Paul. His mind was filled with questions, the biggest one being why? Why would anyone accuse John Paul of such a terrible crime? Why would anyone want to hurt that gentle soul so much? Why John Paul? Why?
The nausea that had assaulted Craig the day before still lingered in his stomach and the constant motion of the taxi made him feel even queasier. It was a relief when the car pulled to a stop outside John Paul's flat. Fumbling in his wallet for the English money he kept with him for his constant trips back home Craig's gaze brushed over his cherished photograph. John Paul's eyes had sparkled brightly that day but Craig had a terrible feeling that that sparkle had recently been extinguished.
Pulling himself from the back of the car Craig hunched his shoulders in a vain attempt to avoid the heavy downpour but his efforts did little to prevent the rain soaking him through and within seconds his hair was dripping into his eyes as the raindrops pasted it to his forehead.
Shivering, and not just from the cold, Craig raised his hand to the doorbell and hesitated. He suddenly felt very afraid. Afraid of what he would find inside the flat, of what he would hear and afraid that he wouldn't be able to help. Craig's fingers twitched as they came into contact with the small white plastic disc that would announce his presence to the residents of that flat. He was afraid of seeing John Paul broken by the vicious lies that had been told about him, but he was even more afraid of John Paul having to face it alone.
John Paul had been watching the film for over half an hour but if anyone had asked him what it was about or who the stars were he wouldn't have been able to answer. The flickering images on the screen were nothing more than a dancing light show of sound and noise that tumbled through his exhausted brain without leaving any lasting impression.
Every so often his eyes would dance over to the old wooden clock that hung slightly crookedly in the centre of one wall. He would quickly calculate how long it had been since he had spoken to Craig. It had been the early morning of the previous day when Craig had called him, it was now approaching seven in the evening and with each passing hour John Paul feared that Craig wasn't coming. His growing paranoia whispered to him that Craig hadn't believed him. Craig thought he was guilty. Craig didn't love him any more. Yet another part of him battled these doubts. Craig would be here soon he repeated to himself over and over again. Craig would be here and everything would be OK, somehow everything would be OK.
Linda had joined John Paul on the sofa a couple of hours earlier and, apart from the occasional comment about the film neither of them were watching, the friends sat in silence. Linda had long since run out of words of comfort for the man beside her. There were only so many times she could tell him she believed in him, only so many times she could reassure him that the truth would come out in the end and only so many times she could look into the grief in his eyes and hold back the need to cry.
John Paul flinched with fear at the sound of the doorbell. Over the last few days its noise had signalled many things and none of them good. They had dealt with letters of accusation and threats of violence being dropped onto the mat at all hours of the day and night and John Paul had even answered the door to find the word "rapist" scrawled across the paintwork in thick black marker.
Seeing the word so stark and accusing against the white gloss of the paintwork had felled John Paul to his knees where Linda had found him minutes later when she came to investigate his disappearance. Together the friends had scrubbed at the door until the word was all but faded from sight but even if they had repainted the door John Paul would still have been able to see it. He would always be able to see it and feel the sting of it in his chest.
"I'll get it," Linda said with a reassuring squeeze to John Paul's shoulder as she moved to answer the ringing bell.
"Thank you," John Paul replied in a soft voice. A part of him felt ashamed. He should have been strong enough to answer the door of his own flat but he couldn't. Just like he couldn't walk down the street with his head held high. John Paul knew that he had nothing to be ashamed of but the looks on the faces of the people he passed by so often told a different story.
"Linda! Looking gorgeous as always," Craig quipped as the door opened. The blonde girl smiled at his words, especially as she knew they were far from true, her hair was in a desperate need of washing and her face was pale and makeup-less, but being around for John Paul had been more important than a few cosmetic concerns over the past week.
"And you look… well actually you look like shit!" Linda replied as she took in the sight of the dark haired man dripping on the doorstep. His hair was sodden and totally plastered to his head, streams of rainwater running in rivers over his face and his eyes were darkly circled through the absence of a nights sleep.
"How is he?" Craig asked as he stepped into the hallway, shaking his head like a dog and spraying water droplets everywhere.
"Not good," Linda said with a pained sigh, "It'll help that you're here."
"How the hell did this happen Lin? Why would anyone…. Why him?"
"I really don't know Craig, I wish I did… it just doesn't make any sense…"
John Paul turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps, getting slowly to his feet as Craig appeared in the doorway.
The two men stood motionless, staring at each other in a moment of frozen time. They both looked a mess, faces tired and haggard through worry and lack of sleep. They both looked beautiful, faces of angels that glowed with the promises of unconditional love.
"Craig," John Paul's voice croaked as he said the name.
"John Paul." The sound of his name said so gently in Craig's soft voice caused John Paul to break. The tears that he had managed to hold back for most of the day tumbled freely over his face as his shoulders shook with heavy sobs.
Craig's arms were strong and protective as they wrapped around John Paul, holding him tightly as the two men sank down onto the sofa. Craig's clothing was wet from the heavy rain and it quickly soaked through John Paul's shirt. The rivulets of rainwater trickled from Craig's hair and ran cold damp paths over John Paul's back. Despite the cold of Craig's embrace and the chilling water that was being absorbed by his clothing John Paul had no desire to be released from the hold. Being in Craig's arms finally made John Paul feel safe and he never wanted to leave them.
Craig held his breath as the younger man wept heavily into his chest. His own need to cry was overwhelming. He had known that John Paul was hurting; he had been able to tell that much from the phone call, but seeing him was so much worse. The soft blue eyes that had always been so full of life and love were dulled and grey. Hidden behind deep dark circles and masked beneath the anguish of the past week. It would have been so easy for Craig to break down and join his own tears to John Paul but he didn't. Craig knew there would be plenty of time for him to cry when he was alone. For now John Paul needed him strong, he needed Craig's confidence and certainty. He needed Craig and Craig wasn't about to let him down.
---
John Paul clung to the warmth and security of Craig's embrace as the tears of anger, confusion and hurt poured from him. He fought back the feeling of guilt as he remembered wondering if Craig was even going to turn up and instead chose to cling to the appreciation that the man was there.
Craig held on to the man shaking in his arms, rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head gently. He had never seen John Paul so distraught and the sight tore at his heart.
Eventually the flow of John Paul's tears began to dry up and he pulled back from Craig to look into the deep dark eyes that he adored so much. Craig forced a smile to his face as he wiped the tears from John Paul's cheeks.
As if on cue Linda walked into the room and placed two mugs of hot tea on the table before them and draped a soft white towel over the arm of the sofa. Craig threw her a look of gratitude as John Paul cradled one of the hot mugs in his hands, breathing in the warming steam as he gazed into the dark liquid.
Craig rubbed the towel over his still dripping hair before taking up his own drink, the heat from the mug taking away the chill that had settled into his bones. Linda tiptoed out of the room quietly. It wasn't just out of consideration that she left the two men alone. For the last week she had been there to support John Paul and it had taken its toll on her. Linda was grateful for the respite and time to be alone without having to worry if her friends was all right.
"I didn't do it," John Paul whispered into his drink, not managing to raise his eyes to Craig.
"I know that," Craig replied without hesitation. Above everything else Craig was as certain of John Paul's innocence as he was of his own. The second he had heard what John Paul had been accused of, the very moment the word rape had been uttered Craig's internal response had not been "did he do it" but rather "why would she say he did it". At no time did Craig ever need John Paul to protest his innocence because there was never any doubt of it.
"Do you?" The conviction in Craig's assurance had comforted John Paul, to many people who he had thought were friends had instantly doubted him, believing the worst of someone there were supposed to have known. If it hadn't been for Linda and his family John Paul didn't think he would have survived the past week.
"John Paul," Craig placed his drink back on the table and cupped the man's face with his warm hands, "Of course I know… I know you… you are the kindest, gentlest person I have ever known in my life and I know you wouldn't do anything so terrible… I know you couldn't…"
Craig's kiss was soft and compassionate, his lips pressing gently against John Paul's as his hands stroked the soft cheeks that had spent too long recently covered with tears.
"D'you want to tell me what happened?"
"Not really…"
"OK."
"That's it?" John Paul's brow furrowed in surprised confusion.
"How d'you mean?"
"I say I don't want to tell you what happened and you're fine with that?" John Paul was so used to people wanting to know every detail that lead to the accusation that having Craig willing to let the matter go was totally unexpected.
"I don't need to KNOW the details John Paul, I know you didn't do anything and that's enough for me… if and when you want to tell me more then I'll be here for you…"
"I'm so glad you're here," John Paul said as he put down his half drunk tea and snuggled back against the warmth of Craig's side. Craig's arm fell naturally around John Paul's shoulder and, despite the fact that his clothes were still damp with rain; they both felt the comfort of each other's presence.
"I'd thought she was a friend," John Paul said quietly and Craig didn't need to as who he was talking about. "Well maybe not a friend, but we had some classes together, you know? We always had a chat and a laugh; she seemed nice… we got on OK… I thought she… I don't know why…"
"It's all right," Craig soothed, stroking John Paul's hair, "You don't have to tell me."
"I do… I mean I want to… I think I need too…"
John Paul closed his eyes and rested his head against Craig's shoulder. His lovers strong support gave him the strength to revisit the night that had been the start of a cycle of events John Paul had no control over.
---
The SU Bar was crowded with students, as it was most Friday nights, the noise level was high with the combination of laughter and music and the alcohol flowed freely with the bar's latest promotion.
Linda had backed out of joining John Paul at the last minute when a call from a guy she fancied had proved to be a better offer. Her apologies had poured from her as she applied her makeup but John Paul had understood. He knew you had to take a chance when it came to love and not let any opportunity pass you by.
There had been plenty of John Paul's other HCC friends in the bar when he arrived and John Paul was soon embroiled in a pool match that was threatening to dissolve into chaos as most of the players were already too drunk to focus properly.
John Paul had smiled when he saw Natalie walking into the bar with two of her friends. There was no denying she was an attractive girl and in another world John Paul might have even fancied her. Her long dark hair glistened under the subdued bar lighting and her full red mouth curved upwards as she raised a hand in greeting to the cute blonde man she had shared classes with.
Once they had been served at the bar Natalie and her friends casually wandered over to the pool tables to watch the rapidly declining challenge that was all but over.
"John Paul," she said with a deep smile, her dark eyes shining at him as she raised her bottle.
"All right Nat?" John Paul replied, "How's it going?"
"Oh you know… not so bad."
Taking another step forwards Natalie stumbled, almost falling if John Paul hadn't caught her at the last moment. Their faces were inches apart as John Paul righted the girl and they were both laughing at her mishap.
The evening had flown by as the number of empty bottles soon stacked up on nearby tables and it didn't seem long before the bar lights were turned up and the customers were requested to quickly vacate the premises.
Looking around John Paul noticed that Natalie was now alone.
"Did your mates leave already?" He asked with concern.
"Yeah," Natalie confirmed, "They couldn't take the pace, light weights."
"How you getting home then?"
"It's a nice night, thought I'd walk…"
"On your own?"
"It's not far…"
John Paul shook his head. There was no way he would let a young woman walk home alone at that hour of the night. He would have never forgiven himself if anything happened. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on John Paul the next day.
"I'll walk you," John Paul offered with a kind smile.
"What a gentleman," Natalie laughed as John Paul held her jacket for her.
Natalie had been right, it was a pleasant night, despite the late hour the air was still warm and John Paul felt a gentle contentment as they walked. Their conversation was easy as they chatted about their studies and people they both knew, Natalie slipped her arm into John Paul's as they walked and to any passers by they would have looked like a gorgeous couple.
"Here we are," Natalie announced as they arrived at the building where she rented a room, "Thanks for seeing me home."
"You're welcome," John Paul replied taking a mock bow.
"No really, it was good of you." Natalie leant forward and pressed her mouth against John Paul's lips.
John Paul stepped back a little flustered by the unexpected kiss. "Err don't mention it," he stammered.
"I really like you John Paul," Natalie said, her dark eyes staring at him unblinking.
"I… err… I like you to…" John Paul replied.
"No… I mean I REALLY like you." Without warning Natalie had slipped her hand to the back of his neck, pulling his face towards her as he kissed him again. John Paul pulled back from the slickness of her glossy mouth, his face the picture of stunned amazement.
"Nat… don't…"
"Oh come on John Paul… we're both adults." With a few more steps Natalie managed to back John Paul against one side of the porch and her eyes glittered with a predatory spark.
"Natalie… I'm GAY," John Paul said firmly as he grabbed her wrists to hold her away.
"So I've heard," Natalie replied as she struggled in his grip, "But then I've also heard you used to have a girlfriend… so I guess you're not totally gay are you…"
"That was before," John Paul replied in frustration. He had been doing the right thing in seeing this girl home safely, how had things suddenly got so out of hand?
"What… before you were gay?"
"Before I was… before I was out… before I was certain…"
"Oh come on John Paul… you don't have to pretend with me… I'm sure we could have a bit of fun here… I've always fancied you…" Despite John Paul's firm grip Natalie still managed to force herself forward enough to smear another lipstick kiss across his mouth.
"Natalie stop it… Even if I wasn't gay… I'm in a relationship… and I don't cheat."
"I won't tell him if you don't…"
Natalie's chest pressed against John Paul's with the unusual and unwelcome sensation of her breasts pushing against him as her mouth once again landed hotly against John Paul's lips, her tongue desperately trying to force its way between.
Turning his face from her kiss John Paul shoved Natalie away from him.
"Just stop it," he shouted as Natalie's back slammed into the other side of the porch, the air rushing from her lungs as she collided with the hard wall.
"I'm sorry," John Paul said quietly as he turned away, wiping the lipstick from his face, "Really, I'm sorry."
"You will be," Natalie snarled after him.
John Paul hadn't been out of bed long the next morning when Linda went to answer the door. Her face was ashen when she returned to the living room, followed by two policemen.
John Paul felt a sickness roll in his stomach. Something terrible must have happened, to his family, or to Craig and he held his breath in preparation of bad news.
"John Paul McQueen?" The younger looking of the two men asked.
"Yeah…"
"Can you please come with us sir?"
"What is it? What's happened?"
"We just need to ask you a few questions… there's been an allegation."
"Allegation? About what…"
The policeman cast a glance at Linda.
"It's OK," John Paul said, whatever had happened he was bound to tell Linda about it anyway, "Just tell me."
"A young woman has named you as her attacker, she's claiming you raped her."
The rest of the day had tumbled through John Paul's brain as a series of images that made no sense. The interview room was cold and grey as John Paul repeated over and over again that he never touched her. The table had been covered with photographs of Natalie's bruised wrists and back and John Paul's explanations for them sounded weak, even to his own ears.
After several hours John Paul had been released without charge, although he was informed that the investigation was still ongoing and he shouldn't make any plans to leave town.
Linda had been waiting nervously for John Paul's return and the broken look of the man had shocked her to her very core. Through floods of tears John Paul tried to explain a situation he didn't understand as she held her friend.
"You should call Craig."
"No, I don't want to worry him…"
"Your family then… please John Paul…"
John Paul had relented somewhat and within minutes Jacqui had been at the door threatening to beat up anyone who would accuse her younger brother of such a crime.
---
Craig couldn't help but smile as John Paul described Jacqui's righteous outrage. It was so like the woman he knew and it comforted Craig to know that John Paul had his families support at a time when he really needed them.
John Paul's eyes opened slowly to look at Craig, a moments fear passed through him that there would be any doubt in the deep dark eyes that looked back at him, but there wasn't, not even for a second.
"I don't know what to say," Craig breathed. What could he say that would make this situation any better?
"You don't have to say anything," John Paul replied, "Just hold me… that's all…"
"For as long as you need me to," Craig promised as he wrapped his arms tightly around the man he loved.
Craig rested his chin on top of John Paul's head as he rocked him slowly and reassuringly. Looking to the doorway he saw Linda watching them.
"Is he OK?" Linda mouthed silently.
Craig shook his head slightly; John Paul was far from OK.
"Are you OK," she mouthed again.
Craig closed his eyes and tightened his hold on John Paul. He would never be OK again, not until this nightmare was over, not until the truth was discovered and John Paul's name was cleared. Not until he saw John Paul smile again.
