I barely end Home Truths, and promised myself I won't try to write a sequel for now...But somehow it doesn't work :P I don't know if you want to read more about police world, Craig being a bastard and Spike's dealing with whole world...But if you want, I hope you'd enjoy it not less than Home Truths :) So, let's begin...;)

The green bag landed with crushed tap on the couch, before the big box with mugs and plates found a place on the nearest cupboard, next to the sink. Craig departed from his bedroom and critically looked around the mess his boyfriend has made for the last hour and almost yell with despair as he noticed what he was going to do.

'It's not a place for mugs, John Paul!' He snapped and quickly ran toward him to take two mugs from his hands. 'Here I have plates, iron and washing powder.' He informed him and pushed the mugs forward. 'Mugs are under the sink.'

'Only this?' John Paul asked him with raised eyebrow. 'You didn't manage to put iron board there, yet?' Craig gave him a cold look, showing him what exactly he thinks about his sense of humor. 'Don't you think you should keep the plates somewhere else? Cupboard under the sink isn't enough good place for mugs. It's ideal place for bin.' He said irate, rolling his eyes.

'It's very functional kitchen.' He retorted, didn't see nothing wrong. 'I have everything what I need under my hand.'

'You have plates covered with washing powder.' John Paul said and opened the cupboard to show him a blue plate with white powder on it. 'See that? I'm surprised you didn't poison yourself, yet.'

'Why don't you put your clothes to the wardrobe, while I take care about kitchen?' He suggested, trying to get rid of him. 'And be careful. I don't want you to step on Chubby. He doesn't feel good today.'

'Maybe he's jealous?'

'Maybe you just move?' He sighed irate and pushed the box further. John Paul smirked at him and grabbed his bag to give the man space he needed, didn't want to irate him more. From beginning he knew the removal isn't going to go easy, since Craig most of his life spent alone and he has his strange habits which will be very hard to change. But still he didn't think it can be so much bad.

'Can you make a tea for us, Craig? I should have one in the back pocket.' He said with a soft smile, trying to calm the situation between them two.

'You think I don't have tea in home?' Craig asked him annoyed.

'It's not like I think you don't have one in the flat, Craig. Just seeing how functional kitchen you have, I thought you might have a problem with finding it.' He explained with sweet smile.

'Ha, very funny.' He snapped, and hid his head behind the door of the cupboard.

'Did you at least decide what you want to wear…for you know.' He asked quietly, glancing at him unsurely.

'I need to iron my shirt.' It was the only reply he got from him, before he grabbed some carrier bag and marched toward the bathroom. John Paul put down on the floor his shirts and slowly followed him. He leaned against the wall and gently knocked on the door.

'You're okay? I know you're nervous…'

'I'm fine. Just give me a little time alone, okay?' He replied annoyed, didn't want to open door for him.

'Okay. But don't sit there too long.' He said softly and shoved hands into pockets of his jeans. 'Everything's gonna be fine. Trust me.' He added quietly and for the last time looked at closed door, before he walked back to living room, giving him a space to think about the last events, and try to figure out what to do next.

Everybody where standing there. His colleagues from work, superintendent, even John Paul's whole family. Carmel was quietly sobbing on Calvin's shoulder, while her arms were wrapped around her oldest son, who watched the all scene with not understanding. He was too young to understand why everyone were crying and standing above the deep hole in ground, topped with stone tombstone. But he was old enough to not know that his uncle's colleague from work isn't going to visit them anymore, and they just irrevocably lost something important.

Myra wiped tears from her face and approached John Paul who was already on the place, standing arm to arm with Craig, as she noticed coming up priest. She whispered something to his ear, in the same time when Craig reached for his hand, needing his support.

He briefly looked around the people crowding around the grave; most of them were people from department with superintendent and Deputy Chief Constable on the head, but some faces he didn't recognize. He smiled slightly as Bridget joined them as the last, with a small bouquet of white dahlias in hands, dry traces of tears shining on her unhealthy pale face, while her eyes were hidden behind big sunglasses. She stood next to Darren who was looking like he didn't sleep for the last days and wasn't quite sure what was going around him. He just staring blankly ahead with red, swollen eyes, biting down on his low lip. He looked like his all world just crushed down.

Myra smiled softly as the priest nodded his head toward her and stopped above the grave. Craig remembered him. He was one of McQueen's friends, Father Kieron, if he good remembered.

The priest looked around the mourners and then his eyes went lower, toward stone tombstone which superintendent ordered to put before the funeral. A nice gesture from his superior someone would say, but Craig knew everything was only for show. They've never liked him, never understood.

Priest mouth opened slightly and everything slipped out from his mind, as he blankly staring at the etched words. Suddenly he forget about his duty.

'Everything's okay, Father?' Deputy Chief Constable asked him, wondering why he doesn't start yet.

'Yes, I just…' He replied nervously, before he again glanced at the tombstone and grunted. 'My mind go somewhere else.' He finished with a small smile, which quickly faded as he recalled himself where he was now and joke like that was incongruous.

'Can we start now, Father?' He asked impatiently, knowing if they don't start now, he'll be late for a round of golf.

'Yes, of course.' He nodded and looked with horror at Myra who bended over to see what shocked him so much. He closed his eyes almost sure she was going to make a hell on the funeral, as he noticed how appalled she was. 'It's not a big deal, Myra.' He whispered to her. 'You can change the tombstone after funeral, but please don't make a scene now. For Spike's Sake leave it, woman.' He begged her, but she was already sharing her revelation with son and his boyfriend.

'Oh my God! Who was so cruel to do it?' She asked in harsh whisper, almost catching everyone's attention. John Paul and Craig didn't look less appalled than her, but Kieron knew that at least they're not gonna make a scene now, only wait to the end.

'We can't do nothing about that now, can we?' Craig asked her, shaking his head in disbelieve. 'But whoever did it, I fucking kill him after funeral.'

'Craig! Don't say things like that around priest!' John Paul hissed.

'Hanging with your family, he get used to it.' He snapped back, before he turned toward blushing Kieron. 'You can start, Father. I think we're ready.' Kieron nodded his head and moved eyes away from tombstone, didn't want anyone else to notice the words on it.

'Today we gathered here to say farewell to our brother, Spike Hunter, and to commit him into the hands of God.' Craig sighed, when the trumpets start playing behind their backs a hymn, his eyes moved on the right as he couldn't stand looking at the grave and priest. It was too much for him.

He blinked few times when his eyes caught familiar silhouette standing on the end of the grave, in unzipped long, black coat. White shirt with rolling up sleeves shining unnaturally in the rays of sun, giving him ghostly appearance. The man kneeled down and was watching the wooden coffin which wasn't lowered yet, until he didn't feel Craig's eyes on himself and stood up. Sudden ray of the sun hit Craig on the eyes, before it faded and everything's became clear again. His mouth opened slightly as he noticed man's spiky hair and then as his eyes went lower he understood who was standing there.

Spike.

'Lord our God, you're the source of life. In you we live and move and have our being. Keep us in life and death in your love, and, by your grace, lead as to your kingdom, Through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.'

Shock and surprise written over his face as they both stared at each other, like world wasn't exist anymore and time has stopped. They were just only two of them, unnoticed by others who were too plunged in mourning, to see what Craig sees.

'…God, our Father, we entrust Spike Hunter into your hands.' Craig could see sorrow and pain on his face as Father Kieron let three hand-fulls of earth fall onto the coffin, before his eyes moved toward the tombstone. 'From dust you came, to dust you shall return. Jesus Christ, our Saviour, shall raise you up on the last day…'

Coward. Liar. Murderer. Spike's eyes wide opened as he watched words etched on his tombstone. Am I a ghost?' He asked, didn't understand what he was doing here. On his own funeral, with Craig's piercing eyes fixed at him.

He looked down at his coffin and cried silently as he saw white lilies, the same which he laid down on his mum's, when they buried her body.

'Give him, o Lord, your peace and let your eternal light shine upon him.'

'Do you see someone there?' Craig asked John Paul in quick whisper, wondering if they burying down the right person. Or maybe the coffin was empty?

'There's no one there.' John Paul replied back with frown. 'What's going on with you? You want to sit down?' He asked with concern.

'No. Forget about what I said.' He whispered and looked at the end of grave, but this time no one was standing there.

'I'm worrying about you.' Craig only smiled weakly to him and harder squeezed his hand.

Craig slipped under the quilt with a deep sigh and closed his eyes slightly as John Paul gently stroked his hair and put his mug back at the night cabinet. He let him move closer to him and rest head on his offered shoulder. He felt how the all tension was slowly leaving him and suddenly he became tired and sleepy.

'How are you feeling?' John Paul asked him quietly, didn't stop stroking his head.

'I'm fine. Just a little tired.' He replied with hoarse voice. 'Meeting with superintendent exhausted me completely.'

'Did you tell everyone what's really happened?'

'You think they'd care? Besides I don't understand either why he overdosed. I'm not going to inform anyone about his last, fantastic achievement.' He said firmly, suddenly pushing away from man.

'At least tell Darren. He has rights to know.' He noted, giving him long look.

'No! He needs to focus on a baby and try to sort out with Hannah. I think they both should go on the vacation for few days. It's not like we need him, now.' He snapped, outraged. 'It was one night, John Paul.'

'Are you sure about that? Cause for me it doesn't look like a one night between two pissed friends.' John Paul stated drily, but Craig didn't listen him anymore only sent him unappreciated glance and decided it's the right time to go sleep. 'Darren is acting strange recently, avoiding everyone and coming back to home in the middle of night.' He continued, dauntless.

'Just leave it!' Craig ordered irate and laid flat on the back, until sudden pang of pain hit him on the head. 'Fuck! What the hell is that!' He yelled outraged, quickly sitting on the bed. 'You laid a brick under my pillow?'

'No, although I have strange urge to do it now.' He replied coldly and removed something thick from under Craig's pillow. 'It's only a book.'

'Why on Earth you're keeping books under pillows?' He asked him, giving an evil glare. 'And why under mine?'

'You have functional kitchen and I have functional bed.' He retorted with a sly smile.

'I'm asking serious…'

'I like reading books, when I can't sleep. So instead of walking around the whole bedroom and waking everyone from neighbor rooms, I kept them under my pillow or bed. It's far easier to find and you're making less mess.' He said with a small smile.

'So tonight, you can't sleep either?' He asked, expecting the worst.

'Well, you don't mind if I read a little?' He flashed him a sweet smile. 'Don't worry I won't touch your side of bed.'

'Read how long you want. I don't care.' Craig shrugged is arms and turned to him with his back as he finally laid down. 'Only turn off the light.' John Paul cocked his eyebrow.

'If I turn off the light, how I'm going to read?' He asked annoyed.

'I don't care how you're going to do it. There's no chance I would fall asleep with switch on light.'

'I don't see in dark, Craig. I'm not a cat.' He snapped. 'The light is only for my side.'

'I don't care for which side it is. I want to see nothing, you understand my point?' He barked, irate.

'So close your eyes.'

'Don't be so wise.' He snapped back.

'It's our first night together, Craig. Do you really have to argue with me now?' John Paul asked him reproachfully.

'Exactly, it's our first night together. So turn off the light and go sleep. You know I've had a really hard day in work. I needed to met with all big fishes in police and then the whole matter with Spike.'

'I know, but you don't have to snap at me every time I want to help you.' He scowled and put the book with a slam on the night cabinet. 'Night.' He murmured and switched off the lamp. Craig rolled onto his back and looked briefly at John Paul who moved away from him in bed. He sighed and with pang of guilty sneaked toward him and wrapped arms around him, as his head laid next to his long neck.

'Night.' He whispered back and smiled slightly, when man relaxed in his arms and laid hand on his.

'It's gonna be okay. We can live without trying to kill themselves every five minutes.' He said quietly with a small chuckle and Craig couldn't do nothing more like agree with him. 'We just need a more time. And peace.'

'I'm sure, you're right.' He mumbled into his neck. 'Now, sleep.' John Paul smiled sleepily and for once didn't argue with him.

Darren was sitting on the armchair in total silence with a bottle of beer in hand, and watched the sleepy beast lying across the damp blanket, next to the fireplace, warming its body in the heat of fire. He took the gulp of his drink and licked his lips as the beast looked at him with, black like two tunnels eyes, white teeth flashed in darkness as he start panting.

'What's it doing here?' He sighed as Hannah's sharp voice rang in the darkness and even his quiet friend growled quietly, showing his disapproval.

'Sleeping.' He replied shortly and took another gulp. 'You should also.'

'I don't want this dog to stay here.' She said firmly, for moment he saw her in the doors with the angle of eye.

'It's my apartment, and Loony is going to stay here.'

'His dog isn't going to leave with us. Leave him in kennel or find for him new home.' She ordered, but he only snorted in response and put the empty bottle on the floor.

'Spike's dog is mine dog.' He said firmly and on unsteady legs moved on the couch. 'No one is going to take care about him and he was too important for Spike to give him to people I don't know they'd treat him good.'

'You can give him to your father. They're searching for a dog.' She recalled him and leaned against the wall.

'He's too smart to stay outside the house and watch the background.'

'You can't stop thinking about him even for two minutes, can you?' She snapped, close to tears, understanding why he wants so badly to keep the dog with himself. Darren didn't reply only wrapped blanket around himself and laid down with eyes still focused at sleeping beast. He heard quiet, suppressed sob and then the door of his old bedroom closed with a slam behind Hannah. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, although he already knew it's gonna to be another long, sleepless night for him.