Hush
It's okay
Dry your eyes
Dry your eyes
Soulmate dry your eyes
Dry your eyes
Soulmate dry your eyes
Cause soulmates never die
Placebo – Sleeping With Ghost

Justin

After leaving Ethan's in complete silence Brian drove us back to the diner. Despite the time, there were tons of people milling around Liberty Avenue, as usual, and even more people in the diner. All the booths were crowded, including one with the black-haired man I had seen at the hospital earlier today – Michael I think his name is- and some other men that I recognized but didn't exactly know. Mel and Linds had introduced me to the flamboyant one – Emmett? – and the stiff accountant one. I think he's Ted but I can't really remember. "How'd it go, boys?"

Debbie was already around the counter, momentarily forgetting all about the orders that she had to bring her hungry customers, and coming towards me and Brian with a worried expression on her face. Brian sighs and stares at her with an exhausted look. "He's asshole." This only raised the bar on her 'Worry Stick'. "What'd he do?" Brian, I'm not sure if it was a conscious thing or not, placed a hand on the back of my neck. "He was drunk out of his mind and he tried to hit Justin with a beer bottle." Debbie gasped slightly, her face showing how irate she was. She was always irate when I told her about something Ethan did. Brian continued. "And he…" I avoided all eye contact with him and Deb and, instead, stared at the ground.

Like usual.

"He destroyed Justin's sketches of Mel, Linds and Jenny."

If it wasn't dark outside I'm sure Deb would've ditched her shift and gone straight over to Ethan's and done him in. If he had woken up from his unconscious state yet, that is. "That fucking prick. I should bring him some poisoned food. Bastard." Brian shook his head and I could hear the small smirk in his voice. "He wouldn't be able to eat right now, Deb."

"What'd you do to him?"

"Let's just say that when he wakes up he's goin' to feel like shit. Where's Gus?"

"He's in the back with Joe. I'll go get him."

Brian nods and, with his hand still cupped around the back of my neck, he leads me to where Michael, Ted and complete strangers sit. It's weird, I knew Lindsay for three years, and I had never met any of these people. Shit. Michael was staring at me like I was some abomination. Like I was the enemy. Then I remembered that I thought I was the enemy too, though Brian's convincing kind of set my mind in the direction where I didn't blame myself. Michael's expression started to point me in the direction of "It's my Fault Land". Emmett, I remember meeting him once before, smiled at the two of us. If Michael had told him that everything was my fault he didn't let on.

Emmett smiled sympathetically at me.

"Hey, baby, come sit down."

He had been nice to me the last time I had seen him too. I smiled tiredly at him and slid into the booth. Brian slid in next to me, his hand still there on my neck, and we made ourselves comfortable. Well, as comfortable as we could be in these booths. Ted looked at us. He looked even more tired then Brian and I did. I'm not sure if he feels more tired then I do though. "Justin right?" I only nod and look over at Michael. His eyes are still on me; he's not making any attempt to 'secretly' glance at me. I quickly look away and meet the kind eyes of a tall, tan man with short wavy brown hair. He holds a hand out to me, he's sitting next to Michael and I can see a flash of irritation across his eyes at the man's kindness, with a smile.

"I'm Ben."

"Justin."

I quickly shake his hand before returning it to my lap. Shit. Here it comes.

"I'm Michael."

He holds out his hand and I'm not sure I want to shake it but I do since I don't want to come off as impolite. He squeezes harder then necessary and it kind of hurts. "…Justin." I quickly pull my hand away and return it to my lap and quickly look away. Everyone at the table seems slightly uncomfortable now that Michael's talking. Yeah, and he's not done yet. "I'm Jenny's father." I hear a low whistle out of Emmett's mouth, I can feel Brian shift and tense next to me, Ben looks at everything but our table, and Ted rolls his eyes and stares down at a newspaper from this morning. I meet Michael's eyes, swallow, and nod.

"I…know."

"Yeah, you know a lot of things."

He's obviously referring to me knowing Chris Hobbs. The murderer of his daughter and two friends. Emmett immediately looks across the table and begins a quiet conversation with Ted. The accountant looks relieved that he no longer has to pay attention to Michael's venomous words. I only blink. I don't know what to say. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Luckily, I don't have to say anything since Brian's pissed enough as it is and this is apparently making him angrier. "Michael, shut the fuck up." Michael's eyes waver over to Brian, surprised and even some hurt on his face.

"So you're defending him? He's a-"

Murderer.

Even if it wasn't me that did the murdering. Brian cut him off before he could say it though.

"I said shut the fuck up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do. I can't believe you Brian. You're son got hurt because of him."

That was a blow to my already fragile emotions. I close my eyes for a few seconds before opening them to stare down at the table. I pretend that I'm not here, I tell myself not to listen, I tell myself that this isn't true and that none of this is my fault. Brian kind of confirms my thoughts. "It wasn't his fault." Michael snorts and Ben ushers a quiet 'Calm down' at the ex-father. "I don't have to calm down. Fuck, Brian, you don't know what you're talking about. His naivete is blinding you." I feel Brian's hand clench around my neck slightly. It hurts but at the same time it's comforting because, again, it tells me that he cares.

"You're being an asshole. None of this shit is Justin's fault. I know you're upset but you aren't going to blame all of this on him. It's not his fault that he happens to know a fucking mental patient. So shut your fucking mouth."

I begin to bite on my bottom lip. Sadly, Michael's not done yet. If it had been me Brian was shooting death glares at and speaking to me in that threatening voice I would've shut up immediately.

"I bet he's not shutting his mouth. Is that why you're keeping him around?"

What? He was an asshole. I don't even know why Brian's friends with him. He was obviously jealous. Jealous of the fact that Brian was sticking up for me, defending me and keeping me at his place tonight. Michael and his jealous nature were bound to think that something sexual was going out between Brian and me. Sure, it crossed my mind but any man who could see would let it cross their mind. I glare at him. I was tired of his…fucking attitude.

"Fuck you."

I may have said it louder then I thought.

The whole diner had quieted down. Debbie, who was now holding Gus, looked over at me from behind the counter. Suddenly Brian was standing up, pulling me up after him, grabbing his son and we were out of the diner before I could even register what was happening. As soon as Gus was settled in his seat and Brian was sitting next to me in the passenger seat next to me, the door slammed shut loud and…loud. He was practically steaming with anger. I stared out the windshield. I hadn't meant to burst out like that and I suddenly wished I hadn't. I didn't want to make enemies…or make my enemies even more pissed at me. Brian started the engine and the first ten minutes of the drive were silent. I broke it.

"I'm sorry."

My voice sounded really loud in the quiet car.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I didn't mean to yell at him like that."

Brian scoffed and I took a quick glance at him. He was glaring daggers at the windshield.

"You had every right to be pissed."

He was right so I shut up.

Brian

I couldn't believe that shit.

I couldn't believe, no, I could believe it but I didn't want to, that Michael was being such an asshole. You'd think he'd be doing what any father who had just lost their daughter would be doing. Mourning. Not accusing an innocent person for three people's deaths and then going on to practically call him a whore. Justin was far from being a whore. If anyone, I was the whore here and I didn't even do that much. I did enough to be a slut. I picked up a trick about…once a week. I knew people who did a lot more then that a night. A few years ago I used to be one of those studs who fucked everything that walked…then Gus happened. But that was beside the point – Michael was being a fucking asshole.

Deb even looked pissed at him and she hadn't even been there for the whole word exchange.

"It's time for bedtime, Gus."

Justin picked Gus up off the couch, he had been occupying himself by watching late night cartoons, and held him against his lip. I looked back at my computer. I was still in search of a cemetery. I should've gone to bed as soon as we got home but I had decided against it. For some reason I wanted to put off sleep as long as possible. I had to get this done. "Where is he gonna sleep?" Shit. I had forgotten about that. I looked around my loft. I didn't have anywhere for my son to sleep. Reason number five thousand on why I'm a bad father. "Shit – just put him on my bed."

Justin nodded and he disappeared up onto my platform.

Then the blue lights were shut off.

Then the kitchen lights since they were so bright.

Then every light was off, Justin's doing, until the only glow in the loft was from my computer. I yawned, wrote down the number of a cemetery that was worthy enough for the three deceased. I still wasn't happy with it but I wouldn't be happy with anything it would seem. This would have to do. Yawning again, I shut down my computer and gathered a few photos that I had kept in my desk drawer. There was a whole big stack and they were all of Mel, Linds and Jenny Rebecca. Gus was in many of them and I had tons more where these came from. I rolled my chair back and walked towards where Justin sat in the corner of the sofa. He was staring off into space, biting his thumbnail, and his knees pulled up under him and his other arm crossed across his chest.

I sat down next to him and broke into his thoughts.

"Here."

He took the picture from me, stared at the first one for a moment, and then looked at me. "What?" I motioned towards the pictures. "They're pictures of them. You can have them since you don't have any." He seemed hesitant to look at them, much less take them from me for good. Slowly, Justin began looking at each one, pausing at each one for a certain amount of time, and then going to the next one. I don't know how he could see them in the dark, maybe that's why he would pause for so long on each one, but, even though I couldn't see it, I heard him sniffle and I knew he was crying. Albeit quietly.

"…Thanks."

He's looking at me now. That I can see because his eyes are so blue and bright. Wet and shiny. Suddenly he's crying for the third time today. I carefully take the pictures from him, reach across him and set them on a side table, and then hold him again. I can't help myself. Sure, maybe I'm taking advantage of him when he cries just so I can have an excuse to have him against me like this but I don't care. I could be doing a lot worst things…like trying to seduce him or something. I don't think I could seduce someone like him though. He's too…special. I call myself a lesbian and only concentrate on the sound of him crying silently in my ear and the sniffling noises that his nose is making. And how his hair smells like fruit despite the fact that he probably hasn't had a shower since this morning. I breathe in his scent. I could get used to it.

When he's dried out I push him away, I don't want to but I do.

"Your welcome."

Then I do something. Something that's probably not very smart. Something that I've been wanting to do to the blonde since I saw him in the hospital. I lean forward, I don't have to lean forward very much since we're already really close, and my lips meet his. Surprisingly and to my relief, he doesn't pull away. It's a soft, lingering, probably slightly comforting too, kiss. There's no tongue involved. That's probably a first for me, kissing someone without tongue. And as much as I don't want to, I pull away, my hand had somehow made it to the back of his head, fingers buried in his hair, to keep him in place.

He doesn't say anything and, at first, neither do I.

I expect him to be mad or shocked or something. But he's not. He only smiles at me. A small, nervous, shy smile. I respond by giving him one more, short peck on the lips and pulling him up off the couch.

"Let's go to bed. You need your rest."

I do too. So I lead both of us to the bed that Gus is sleeping soundly in and I quickly tell Justin that he can go ahead and sleep here, on the left side of Gus and I make myself comfortable on his right side. We're both careful not to move the bed too much so we don't accidentally wake him up. Once we're both situate, the only noise I hear is Gus's deep breathing and Justin's soft breathing, I reach across my son and grab Justin's hand, fingers entwining and I fall asleep. Fuck, I was tired.

Debbie

"You had no right to say those things."

I was sitting at the booth with my son, Emmett, Ted, and Ben. As soon as Brian had left, without Gus's things, I had made it my business to see what had set Brian off and what had made Justin yell out his obscene comment towards my upset son. Emmett had quickly told me what had happened, sending disproving looks over at Michael in the process as he gave it to me word for word. Michael was pissed, arms crossed over his Captain Astro shirt, and a bratty frown on his face. I frowned over at my son who met my gaze headon. He looked slightly ashamed. If his daughter hadn't just died I would've gone off on him but I didn't have the energy and I was sure he didn't have the energy to take it anyway.

"It better not happen again. Sunshine's good person and none of this is his fault. I've got to get back to work."

Michael rolled his eyes. He was, I guessed, probably tired of everyone telling him that Justin was a good person, that it wasn't Justin's fault, that he just needed to give Justin a break and concentrate on getting his daughter's things and whatnot. I looked apologetically at my son. This was a day of reckoning. Everyone's lives had been changed this morning even if they hadn't been close to Mel and Linds. They had all been friends with them so everyone was in mourning. I was trying all I could to distract myself and if that meant working extra hours then so be it. The others quickly left the diner, Ted saying he had to work in the morning, Emmett telling her that he wanted to try and get some sleep, and Ben telling them that he needed to go to bed too.

"Ma, I'm sorry."

"Mikey…I'm not the on you need to be saying sorry to."

He rolled his eyes. He looked like shit, he was exhausted. Everyone was.

"I know."

I sat down across from my distraught son.

"Honey, I know things are hard right now. They're hard for everyone, not just you. But you can't take that on anyone just because you're upset. Things will get better but not if you keep acting like…this."

I watched him as he held back tears.

"How can things get better, ma? They're dead."

"When Vic died things got better didn't they? Everything's fine. This'll get better too, Mikey. Yeah, we'll all be sad for a while but then we'll realize that they're in a better place instead of this fucked up world."

I missed Vic all the time but I was right, things had gotten a lot better since then. I got up from the booth, patting my son's hand.

"Now I've got to get back to work. Love you."

"Love you too, ma."

"Remember what I said."

He nodded, sliding out of the booth and heading towards the door.

"I will."

Somehow I doubted he would digest it anytime soon though.