Frisky Wallabee – Thank you! I really wasn't sure I'd got Scott down all that well, so thanks a ton for your compliments!

Nidriel – I'm glad I've got you on tenterhooks! Yeah, I think Scott is a lot harder than Mike because he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, and he's also got a dark, almost malicious streak in him. You don't quite know how far he'll go. But I have to make him really good for this; I refuse to write him like that!

Beena-Pani – Oh, I cannot wait for Brokeback Mountain! It looks like a descendant of Idaho, in a weird way. And personally, I really don't like this chapter, so I think it's safe to say I'm not a god! But thank you for your compliments – what you said meant so much to me (hugs).

Starscar – Thanks! Sorry I haven't emailed you in a while, I've been snowed under with revision for Physics and other nasties. And I still don't know what a split-ring commutater is!

LadyOfThieves – Yay! My mission in life is complete; you are going to volunteer to watch a Keanu Reeves film!

ix-tab – Yeah, Mike was, in a weird way, loads easier to write. I'm glad you thought my Scott was pretty good anyway. Oh, and thanks for adding me to your favourites!

Sorry for the long wait, I'm in the middle of my mocks, and I'm meant to be revising. Instead, I'm panicking. How productive. Also, this chapter took over 26 hours to write! Seriously, I totalled it up. Most chapters take me like three hours to write, but this is so surreal and horribly difficult to write! and this is so short! I feel terrible, but I'm in the middle of my exams, so I guess that's my excuse.

Hey…useless trivia, Gus Van Sant once directed a music video for the band Candlebox called Understanding. Nothing to do with why I chose the title, but hey, maybe the universe was trying to tell me something. …

I could still use a beta, as I find writing for MOPI so difficult because I never think I'm getting Mike or Scott right, and the film is so surreal (there's a thin line between surreal fanfiction and plain crap). Now I'm sweetening the deal. If you offer to beta, you get two special MOPI icons and virtual cookies! And I might send you a Dogstar track with Keanu singing on it…any takers? Email me, and you will have my eternal gratitude as well as all the free stuff.

Oh, and go check out my LJ (link in my profile) I've just posted some artwork for Understanding there. Plus, on like December 4th I made a deal that some of you might be interested in…

Chapter III: Dreams

I'm falling…

Why am I falling?

Oh. Right.

This is a dream.

I'm falling and forgetting and leaving everything.

Good.

This is my place. My sanctuary. And no-one can take this away from me. On the streets, people took my safety, my drugs, my virginity, but this is just for me. It's safe, hidden behind everything else, a private place for me and my memories.

It always seems like dreams should be something that can never happen, something really fucking weird, but mine are always kind of normal. More memories than anything else.

Like now. I'm back in Idaho.

My mom's green house…no, blue…no, green. What the fuck is wrong with me? How can I forget something like this?

My mom's dancing. I can see her so clearly that it almost feels like I'm a little kid again, watching her from our porch. But in this dream I'm still me. Like I've just walked back into my memory.

My mom smiles. She knows it's me. She's been waiting for me.

Mom, what's happening?

I suddenly want her to hold me, tell me it's not too late to have all of this. I want her to tell me that it's all okay, that she's here and everything will be okay. I want to jump out of the memory and know what it feels like to be hugged by her. I want to see her face again, properly, at eye level with mine.

Would she want me back though?

For the first time, I'm doubting this. I'm doubting whether she'd want me back; a son with a fucked-up life who sells his ass to buy drugs and see fucked-up faces in the roads. Would she want a son who's in love with his best, male friend?

Suddenly, I'm angry. Why have I got to doubt this? This is a dream. I'm flying free of all the pain and regret and all the shit that I have to live with. I should just forget the reality and enjoy this.

I want to talk to my mom. I want to know what her voice sounds like again. I've forgotten.

Where are you Mom? What are you doing? Do you have another family? Do you live somewhere nice? Do you ever think about me?

Suddenly, my mom's face blurs, and it feels like this is a broken tape stuck on an endless loop, no-one able to break out of their cycle. She's dancing, the expression on her face looking fixed and plastic, her movements rigid.

This isn't right. Why am I seeing this now?

This is so wrong…It's not meant to be like this.

Get me the fuck out of here!

It all fades out, and all I can hear is the song rolling around my head, no beginning or end, just an annoying refrain that I couldn't remember the name of anymore…

You're living in your own private Idaho.
You're out of control, the rivers that roll,
You fell into the water and down to Idaho.
Get out of that state, get out of that state you're in.
You better beware…

Beware of what? Why am I remembering this?

A large part of me wants to stay here. But I know I've got to wake up sometime. I need to know if this is real. I have to know.

But it's better here…I want to stay here forever. With my mom.

But it's not real.

Why is the reality better than this memory?

No. I have to stop this.

I want to wake up.

I need to step out of the dream.

Let me the fuck out of here.

I need to get out.

Let me out…

I woke up.

It wasn't a dream.

Scott was next to me in the small car. So close I could smell his skin, feel the heat from his body. So close I could reach out and touch him, speak to him, feel the vibrations of his words in my ears.

It felt like we were the only two people in the world.

The road was entirely empty. It was just us two, us two, chasing the dawn. It didn't matter where the car was going. All roads led to this road.

Though we hadn't said anything, this felt like all the nights on the streets, when we'd just talked, about nothing, and about the most important things. It felt like we were the closest we'd ever been. It felt natural as breathing.

For once, reality felt better than the dream.

Sorry that was so short, but I thought you'd all prefer a shorter update than a longer chapter that took another month to put up.

Oh yeah, and the song lyrics were from the B-52 song that gave Gus Van Sant the title of the film. Sorry. Couldn't resist.

Two more chapters left! I've got a possible idea for a sequel, but remember, the more reviews I get, the more inspiration I have, so review if you want a sequel!