"What the fuck is that?" Brian asked, as Marv dropped a thin, rectangular box onto the upside-down box-cum-dining-table.

"A present," the other man smiled.

"Ooo, for us?" Justin asked excitedly. He'd literally just stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and another drying his hair. So he dripped water all over Brian as he leant across him to pick up the box.

"Twot," Brian growled, wiping the droplets of water from his arms. "I thought you were taking a shower."

"I was but…" he trailed off but his eyes flicked to Marv.

"Oh," Brian said with over exaggerated understanding, "you didn't want Marv to get a look at your dick."

Justin blushed a little but ignored both the older men's chuckles and turned his attention back to the present. "So what is it?"

"A new butt plug?" Brian suggested. "Manacles?"

"Not exactly," Marv smirked. "Open it kid."

Justin nodded and ripped the lid off the box, to real a small plaque which read 'home shit home'.

"I don't get it."

"Happy anniversary!" Marv chuckled, holding his hands up above his head excitedly.

"What?" Brian snatched the box from the younger man and peered down at the present. "Oh, very funny."

"I thought I should do something to commemorate your living here for a month."

"Has it been a month already?" Justin asked, taking the plaque from the box and holding it against the wall. "What do you think?" He smiled at Brian.

"I think it's hideous." Then he flashed Marv a sarcastic smile and said, "thanks. What a pal."

"You're welcome, Kinney," Marv patted Brian's shoulder in a very breeder-style form of affection. "I'll see you boys later."

"Wait," Brian called as he reached the door. He rushed over and muttered something that Justin couldn't quite make out.

"Really?" Marv asked, his eyes flicking quickly to Justin.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Next week."

"Hmm," Marv hummed. Then he chuckled and punched Brian on the shoulder. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Fuck off," Brian said semi-angrily.

"I think it's.. erm … sweet. No, that's not the word. How about lesbionic?"

"I said fuck off." Brian snarled but Marv only laughed harder. Brian gave him a glare that would probably kill a lesser man and shoved him out the door.

"I'm going, I'm going," Marv chuckled. Then over Brian's shoulder he shouted, "later kid."

"See you," Justin waved. He still pretending to care about where on the crappy wall the plaque could be stuck. But as soon as the door was shut he said, "what was that about?"

"What?" Brian asked innocently.

"Your secret little talk."

"Nothing that concerns you," Brian said casually.

"But…"

"It doesn't concern you," Brian said more firmly, sounding every part of every word in a way that told Justin to drop the subject. And that was the end of that.

::

"Do you know what day it is?" Justin asked lazily as they watched the sunrise coming in through the skylight.

"Tuesday," the older man answered.

"Yes, but what else?"

"February 3rd?"

"Brian," Justin whined, hitting him lightly on the chest.

"What?"

"It's my birthday."

"Oh. Well done," Brian replied coldly. And then; "I need a shower."

And with that, he got out of the bed and disappeared into the cubical in the corner of the room. Justin stared up at the crappy ceiling and wondered why he'd ever expected anything more.

The day carried on much like every other day in the loft. Marv had brought them breakfast, two bagels and lots of coffee, and then they'd set about fucking for a while. Then Ignacio had brought them lunch, a fajita each, and then they'd gone about their business, Justin drawing and painting and Brian staring into space as he instinctively and methodically, took apart an impressive shotgun and put it back together again. Justin was seventy percent sure that Brian, in these long silent periods of contemplation, was thinking about Michael and how he was locked up in prison but Justin knew better than to press the subject.

It wasn't until dinner that evening, that Justin really noticed something was up. It was probably because both Marv and Ignacio came up to give them food or perhaps because Ignacio had his hands firmly behind his back.

"Hey," Justin had smiled as their hosts had edged carefully sideways into the room like crabs. "What the hell are you doing?" Justin frowned.

"Very subtle boys," Brian drawled from the bed and that was the cue for Ignacio to produce the thing he'd been hiding, a tiny chocolate birthday cake with one candle.

"Happy Birthday, kid" Marv bellowed cheerily.

"Feliz cumpleaños, Rayito de Luz," Ignacio echoed.

Everyone looked to Brian expectantly but the man who was still sprawled out on the bed just shrugged and turned the page of his magazine.

"Ignore him," Marv suggested. Then he whispered so only Justin could hear, "he was the one who told us to get this cake so don't let him pretend he didn't." Justin just chuckled a little. He'd had no doubt that that would be the case but despite everyone in the room knowing the truth, Brian decided to continue to live in the lie.

"Here." Ignacio shoved the cake under Justin's nose. "Do not forget to make a wish."

Justin closed his eyes tight, so tight it gave him a headache, exactly the way he'd done as a kid. He readied the wish, took a deep breath and blew out the candle with only one thought on his mind; let Brian love me. It was a simple wish really, he supposed, and in his safe cocoon of darkness it even seemed possible but as he slowly opened his eyes to see Brian barely looking up from his magazine, Justin knew, however Brian might feel about him would be a secret Brian would take to his grave.

"We didn't know what to get you," Marv said heartily as his skinny annoying boyfriend produced a box wrapped in sparkly silver paper. "But we thought maybe you could use this to create a sort of note book alongside your paintings."

"Or you use them for whatever you want," Ignacio agreed as Justin ripped open the present and removed the box's lid to reveal a beautiful, personalized diary and a pen.

"Oh my," Justin gasped, taking out the book and turning it over in his hands. "It's… beautiful. I can't take this."

"You have to," Ignacio pointed out, his finger rubbing across the gold 'J. Taylor' that had been inscribed on the leather binding. "it is personalizado, no one else will want it."Justin smiled a little at that. He supposed that was true but this was too much. They'd already given him a place to stay, probably saved Brian from prison. He really couldn't accept a gift on top of all of that and he told them as much.

"Don't you be daft," Marv insisted. "Everyone deservers to be a little spoilt on their birthday. Even crazy runaways like you, kid." He squeezed Justin's shoulder and Ignacio kissed him on the cheek and said,

"we even cooked you your favourite meal for dinner too, Paella."

"Thanks," Justin smiled, as Ignacio pushed a brown bag into his hands, which he immediately put on their makeshift table.

"Now you boys have a good evening," Marv called and then more quietly to Justin, he added, "you make sure he treats you tonight."

"I will," Justin assured the older man as he followed the somewhat odd couple to the door.

"In the bag," Ignacio said as they were leaving, "I put candles. You can use them for el amor, the love, the romance."

"Thanks Ignacio," Justin said politely, though he really thought that romantic candles in this room would be a fire hazard and a Brian hazard. They would probably set both off into a whirlwind rampage of destruction and fury and Justin wasn't sure which he was more afraid of.

Just as he was thinking it, he heard a soft thud on the floor behind him and turned around to see Brian sit on the bed, pawing through the bag and tossing the candles aside. Brian Kinney did not do romance. He pulled the two tubs of Paella and produced two forks.

"Want one?" He asked, holding the cutlery in Justin's direction.

"Sure," the kid shrugged strolling over and plunking himself onto one of the cushions closest to the older man.

"You know," Brian said almost bitterly, "they would never have gone to this much trouble for me."

"That's because you'd threaten to chop their balls off if they did."

"That's true," Brian agreed. "Which do you want?" He asked, holding the two identical tubs out in front of Justin. "Left or right?"

"Neither," Justin sighed, grabbing hold of Brian's arm and dragging him slowly off the bed, so he fell somewhat awkwardly onto the cushion next to him. Then he pressed his lips to Brian's neck and started to nip and suck slowly. He felt Brian stretch forward to put the tubs on the upside down box and then he could feel those strong hands roaming under the hem of his shirt.

"There's only one present I want," Justin insisted, licking his way up Brian's neck until he reached his chin and then he went for his mouth, kissing him furiously.

"Oh?" Brian gasped when they'd broken for air.

"Fóllame … por favor," Justin almost begged and who was Brian to turn down a plea for a fuck from the birthday boy.

It was after they'd fucked and after they'd showered and after they'd eaten and even after they'd shared the cake, it was when everything was peaceful and they were just lying on the huge cushions, staring up through the skylight … that was when the real surprise had come.

It was quiet. The only noise was the murmuring of customers' voices from below and the usual car noises and the odd siren, drifting through the many gaps in the roof. Justin could hear Brian's familiar wheeze and feel the older man's fingers as they remained entwined with his. He could feel Brian's thumb on the back of his hand, rubbing gently almost … lovingly.

Justin couldn't help thinking about all his previous birthdays. The first one he could remember was his fifth birthday because one of the kids at the party had accidentally knocked his perfect monkey cake off the table and he'd spent most of the day crying about it. He remembered his fifteenth birthday when his dad had taken him to a Steelers game to inject some masculine father/son time into his life … fat lot of good that had done. He remembered his seventeenth birthday, when he'd finally told his friend Daphne about his huge crush on the school team's quarterback, Chris. And now this birthday was going to join all those as particularly memorable; the birthday he'd spent in an attic with the man he loved, hiding from the police and from the world.

"You know," Justin murmured after an unusually long period of near silence, "my dad always said he'd give me a car for my nineteenth birthday."

Brian frowned a little as though annoyed at the interruption but that didn't stop him asking, "why nineteenth?"

"I'm not sure. Something about family tradition," Justin remembered. "He told me that on his nineteenth his father had given him an old Chevy El Camino from some dealer and he had to fix it up himself. He insisted it helped turn him into a man."

"You think that's what he had planned for you?" Brian asked casually. "A little man training to knock back your inner fag."

"I thought man training would be the kind of thing to bring out your inner fag," Justin chuckled lightly. And he could sense Brian was smiling too.

"A car," the older man hummed thoughtfully for a second. Then he let out a bit of a groan as he detached his hand from Justin's and rolled over to rummage through the front pocket of his laptop bag of guns. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and smiled a bit as, from the front pocket, he produced a set of car keys. And not just any set of car keys, the keys to the Vette.

"Here," he said, shifting over on his stomach and wiggling the keys above Justin's face. "She's all yours."

"Yeah, right," scowled Justin, pushing Brian's hand away disbelievingly.

"I'm being serious," Brian insisted, finally ceasing to jangle them, and instead, resting them on the kid's flat stomach. "I don't have any need for it anymore." He noted the look of concern on Justin's face so he tried to placate him further. "Don't worry. It's not stolen. It's passed inspection and you won't have to update the tags until next August."

"Why did you bother with all that? You were only ever gonna use it when you were already running from the cops."

"Well, if you appear squeaky clean, people think you're squeaky clean. Less cops sniffing around, more opportunity to do jobs."

"I guess," Justin agreed, taking the keys carefully from his stomach and turning them over and over in his hands. "I can't take it." He said, without making any effort to part with the keys.

"Why the fuck not?" Brian asked. "It's your nineteenth birthday and you were supposed to have a car," he smiled a little, and tapped the keys gently with his forefinger so they clinked, "now you have one."

"But what about when we get out of here?" The kid asked, "won't you want it back?"

Brian let out a snort of bitter laughter. "How do you think this ends Justin?"

"Huh?" The kid blinked with genuine innocent confusion.

"This little … adventure," he virtually spat the word. "How do you think it ends?"

Well, he'd originally thought it would end with him and Brian moving to a huge house in some secluded Mexican village where the police would never find them. Then he'd realized that was stupid so he'd thought it might end with them fighting against law and order; steal from the straight, give to the fags … like a modern-day Robin Hood. Then they could be real OUTlaws. But that was all just the fantasies of a young artist. The truth was he'd refused to think about what would happen after this realistically because he doubted very much he'd like any of the possible outcomes.

So, he shrugged and shook his head, as though to say he wasn't sure how it would end … but he was sure, he knew exactly how this would end, he just didn't want to think about it. But as Brian started to say it, he knew it was the truth.

"The only way we get out of here is with you being returned to your parents like the prodigal son or a war hero and me being dragged away to rot out the remainder of my existence behind bars so," he sighed, closing his hands over Justin's which held the keys, "take the goddamn car. I don't really have much use for it anymore." He smiled down at the younger man, a defeated smile before adding sternly. "Just, look after it and don't fucking crash it!"

Justin smiled at Brian's warning but inside he was feeling a little miserable and deflated. He couldn't help feeling that this perfect, magical, beautiful, wonderful time he'd spent with Brian over the last few months was coming all too quickly to an end. He could feel the tears welling up behind his eyes as he thought about it, prickling his tear ducts. But he didn't cry, he just looked up into the eyes of the older man and wished he could get lost in that gaze forever and Justin whispered;

"Te amo."

Brian rolled his eyes and flipped onto his back. "Who's been teaching you filthy phrases like that?" he scorned.

"I asked Ignacio," the kid explained.

"Oh."

"But it's true," he explained. "I do 'amo' you … mucho."

Brian raised an eyebrow, his mouth twisted in a way that was supposed to seem condescending but actually just appeared to be hiding a grin. "You're pathetic," he replied fondly.

"I thought you'd say that," Justin sighed. "God forbid you ever actually say it back."

Brian said nothing, he just looked at the younger man with a face that clearly said 'drop it'.

"You know," Justin joked, his eyes gleaming mischievously, "I think I should just take my new car and leave."

"So why don't you?" Brian asked, his voice low and unaffected. "It would probably be for the best."

"Mm," Justin hummed as he turned himself over and rested his head on Brian's chest, and with one hand he began to unbutton Brian's shirt, allowing the black material to slide open.

"You said yourself we don't know how long we've got left here. I don't want to waste a second of it."Brian let out a deep, throaty grunt of agreement. His eyes fluttering closed as Justin's deft fingers began to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. He felt Justin's perfect lips press to his ribs and begin kissing their way down.

"You know," Justin mumbled against the warm skin, his breath ghosting over Brian deliciously, "my mom always told me to properly thank people for giving me presents for my birthday."

"Well, your mom would be pleased to know you listened to her."

"And my Gran," Justin continued as he kept his kisses moving downwards, "used to say that the best way to say thank you is to give something back."

"Your granny sure knew what she was talking about," Brian agreed.

"Mm-hmm," Justin agreed. "Best make my family proud."

::

It was a day just like any other day to begin with. They'd woken up as the sun came through the skylight. They'd fucked and then taken a shower. Ignacio had brought them some breakfast and had stuck around for almost an hour, bugging the hell out of Justin, trying to convince him to create a new logo and menu design for the restaurant. It had taken forty-five minutes of incessant nagging before Brian snapped, "for fucks sake Justin, just say you'll do it" and Justin had agreed to start on it later that then they'd gone about the same things they did every day. Brian was doing his exercises in the corner and Justin was sat in the window trying out some ideas for the menu, when a whining siren started bleeding through the air. Justin froze and looked up immediately, like a nervous meerkat.

"Relax," Brian said casually, in the middle of his sit-ups. "It's probably for some ten year old thief at the drug store."

Justin nodded and smiled weakly. He hated living in fear like this. He went back to his drawing, a perfect outline of a dancing fajita, wearing a sombrero on a donkey and eating a taco. He wondered how many racial stereotypes he could include before it became offensive. He was just about to make the donkey's saddle blanket a Mexican flag, when he found his concentration disturbed once again by the wailing of a police siren. He frowned and then he heard a flurry of movement from the other side of the room, where Brian was pulling on a pair of jeans and a white wife beater vest.

"Brian?" He asked. He hadn't realized how dry his throat was until he tried to speak but now he could feel it was a dessert and he could hear quite clearly now that the sirens were getting louder and louder and louder.

"Get away from that window!" Brian ordered and Justin immediately jumped up and ran to him as the older man hunted quickly for his gun. "Shit," he hissed under his breath as he finally found in, unloaded under his pillow. Now to find the fucking bullets.

"What do we do?" Justin whispered, sticking close to Brian, not wanting to lose him for one second.

"We assess the situation," Brian explained as calmly as he could. "Bring me that chair," he pointed to one of the dining chairs. Justin ran to get it as Brian continued to hunt for bullets though he had a sickening feeling that even his trusty gun wouldn't save him now, because not only were the sirens close, there were lots of them. He only hoped Marv and Ignacio had managed to escape in plenty of time.

Justin brought the chair straight to him and he pushed it under the skylight. He climbed up and peered out of the gap.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"What's out there?"

"Six goddamn police cars," he hissed. "That's more than they brought to the fucking house." He put his hand on Justin's shoulder and got down off the chair. "They've got us totally surrounded."

"We might be able to break through the restaurant," Justin suggested optimistically. He'd fought too hard to just give up now."Brian just shook his head. "We'd be on foot and they've got cars, lots of them."

Then there was a new noise, a sort of thump-thumping of air above them.

"What's that?" Justin asked, grabbing Brian's arm anxiously.

Brian wasn't sure but it sounded like a, he looked up through the skylight; "helicopter," he muttered. Justin followed his gaze ans saw a Six News helicopter hovering above the roof. "Fuck!"

"So what are we gonna do? Brian? What's the plan?"

"I don't…"

"But you always have a plan." Justin beseeched, tugging on the older man's arm. "Always!"

"But there's no way we can…"

Then a loud bang cut him off. They both jumped and turned towards the door. There was a shadowy figure stood in the doorway and Brian thought he looked semi-familiar but he couldn't work out who would be here now. And then the figure stepped out of the shadows saying, "hello boys."

"Michael!" Justin cried happily. He never in a million years thought he'd be happy to see the jealous little man but right now nothing in the world could have made him happier. "Oh my god this is amazing," he gushed, beaming. "We were told you got arrested." He went to walk to Michael, he was so pleased to see him he actually thought he'd hug him.

But Brian shot out an arm across Justin's chest and stopped him dead.

"He did get arrested," Brian said sternly not taking his eyes off Michael. His lips snarled up angrily as he glared at his supposed best friend. "How could you do this?"

Justin frowned. He didn't understand. Michael was there to rescue them. What could Brian possibly be angry about? "Do what Brian? Aren't you happy to see him? He can help us get out. Come on Michael, how did you get in with the police spotting you? Where are Marv and Ignacio, did they help you?"

"What are you doing here?" Brian asked, ignoring the kid; they both were.

"I was just aiding some new friends of mine on a bit of a treasure hunt," Michael said casually.

And suddenly, Justin understood. Michael hadn't got in without the police seeing him. It was the exact opposite, he'd led the goddamn police straight here."How could you!" Justin screamed, he looked like he was going to run and beat Michael up but Brian caught him just in time and held him back, just as Michael revealed his weapon; an expensive-looking, brand new baseball bat.

"Careful, Sunshine," he sneered. Justin gasped and looked up at Brian, expecting to see him fuming, expecting him to be ready to kill. But Brian remained calm. He just stood in silent acceptance. Justin, however, wasn't so excepting. "How could you do this to him?" He asked. "He's your best friend … for Fifteen fucking years!"

"Come on kid," Michael snorted. "You know how it is when you're the least wanted member of the gang. They'll make you a deal, offer to clear your criminal record of everything you've done since you were fourteen in exchange for a few hundred hours of community service and the location of the main man." He turned his attention to Brian, an ugly sneer warping his face, "you're the one they wanted Brian. This whole thing has been about you but I don't know why I'm surprised," he laughed bitterly, "it's always about you. It was about you all through high-school. It was about you fucking our gym teacher and getting on the TV news. It was about you turning up stoned to my prom and asking me to run away with you and join you on a life of crime. It was about you wanting to teach breeders a lessons; steal from the hetero, give to the homo," he quoted resentment coursing through every fibre of his being. "And it was about refusing to let me shoot him," he threw a death-glance at the blonde kid who was standing just behind Brian's right shoulder, seething. "It was about you refusing to let his goddamn father shoot him. It was about you bringing him into our lives when all he ever did was cause trouble." Michael was almost in tears now, the emotion and the pain welling up in his throat like a lump of jagged, scrap metal. He couldn't bare all this pain anymore. He needed to release it in angry, furious words, each one spat out in pain and hatred. "It was about you letting him come between us and letting him love you in a way…" He choked on the words and stopped. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, looking Brian straight in the eye with a determined expression. "You never gave me the chance to love you."

"So this is your revenge?" Brian asked coolly, if Brian felt anything at this moment, he wasn't going to show it. "To throw me to police, to hand me over on a fucking silver platter like a goddamn gift?"

He sounded unbelievably calm, given the circumstances. Justin couldn't understand why Brian hadn't whipped out his gun and shot the other man dead. He'd betrayed him abused his trust and friendship; fifteen years worth of trust and friendship. Justin looked from one man to the other. He noted the contrast between them. Michael eyes were crazy and wild, he was possessed with these feelings of envy and lust, his ideas of a jealous, so-called 'love' he had for Brian. Whereas Brian, was calm. He was just accepting Michael's betrayal so easily. Justin couldn't understand. Where was the passion? Where was the hatred? And that was when Justin realized … Brian had known this day would come. He'd known that one day, Michael would snap. He'd just been silently bidding his time. Brian knew Michael too well to be surprised by anything he did and he loved him too much to blame him.

"I told them everything," Michael almost cackled. "They even let me come up here and talk to you alone first … providing I don't let you escape." Michael snarled, hitting his palm with the baseball bat threateningly. "But I'm not expecting any trouble," he smiled in a way that was disturbingly sweet and Justin shuddered and clung to Brian's arm tight. Michael looked like one of the crazed evil villains in those comic books he loved so much; perhaps Lex Luther, Superman's former friend, back to destroy him. "And all I had to do for that privilege was tell them about your little romance with Picasso Jr," he waved his hand dismissively at Justin.

Brian's eyes flashed with anger and although for the most part he remained calm, his clenched fists and trembling words made it obvious he was mad. Well, if Brian were Superman, Justin was definitely kryptonite.

"Why would you do that?"

"So that you'll finally fucking notice me!" Michael screamed. There was a loud battle cry from the bottom of the stairs and the crash of the restaurant's backdoor being kicked in shook the house. They could hear shouts and heavy footsteps on the floor and Brian turned his back on Michael and grabbed Justin firmly by the shoulders.

"Whatever they say," Brian urged frantically, "tell them I made you do it. If they ask if we fucked, tell them I held a gun to your head. If they say you went willingly, tell them I was blackmailing you, telling you I would kill your family. Everything you did was against your will, got it?"

"But then they'll just send you down for longer," Justin gasped. The stomps on the stairs were getting nearer.

"I don't care. I can deal with prison. I can cope with the whole process. But only if I know you're on the outside and you're safe. Do you understand? I can't let you go to prison too."

"But…"

"Promise me," Brian virtually screamed, shaking the kid. Time was running out. He needed reassurance that Justin would be okay and he needed it now.

"Okay," Justin whispered tearfully, nodding his head. "I promise."

And then Brian held him close to his chest. Justin could hear the quick beating of the older man's heart through his shirt, he could hear the thumping of footsteps on the stairs, he could hear Michael's ragged breathing but then everything else seemed to fade into silence because he felt Brian's lips at his ear and he heard a breathy whisper of, "I love you."

Justin just gasped. He stepped back from Brian and looked into the older man's eyes. He could see only sincerity there and he knew that this was more than just a declaration of love; it was also goodbye.

And that's when everything seemed to happen at once. It was over in a flash, a blur and a blink but it also seemed to go in slow motion. Justin heard Michael yell "liar". He looked up to see him lift the baseball bat above his head and swing at the head of his former best friend. Justin watched as the bat moved towards the man he loved and the only thing that went through his mind was saving Brian. He dived straight at Michael, he felt something connect with his skull and then … there was nothing.

Brian watched as Justin hit the floor in a lifeless heap, blood pouring from his skull and all over the boards.

"NO!" Brian had yelled, dropping to his knees. "No! God! Please. NO!" Nothing else had mattered at that time. All he could do was crouch uselessly by Justin begging and praying to a God he didn't believe in that Justin would be okay. He didn't hear the SWAT team enter the room. He didn't hear the clunk of the bat as it hit the floor, as Michael was ushered away down the stairs.

He didn't hear the policeman arresting him and then he was being dragged to his feet, metal pinching at his wrists as he was dragged away. "NO!" He was screaming like a caged animal. "LET ME GO!" He struggled to get back to Justin but the men were too strong. There seemed to be hundreds of them restraining him but he didn't give up, he just kept fighting. He watched numbly as a policeman bent down by the lifeless body.

"It's him," the cop confirmed to another.

"Oh that's perfect," the other cop replied with a genuine smile. "The scumbag, snitch really delivered."

And then Brian was being dragged painfully down the stairs and all the cops were leaving the room, not one of them staying with Justin.

"What are you doing?" Brian yelled. "You have call an ambulance," he begged but the police didn't care. They just shut the door to the attic and followed him down the stairs towards the alley.

No amount of struggling was going to mean he could ever see Justin again. No amount of protesting would mean they'd let him know what was going to happen to him. And the only thing he could think of as he was being hauled away was what Ted had said the day they'd fled the mansion; "They don't want to find Justin alive."