I open my eyes and roll over to face Joel. He's lying on his back, and his dark hair sweeps across his forehead, drawing attention to the closed lids and the eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly in his sleep. His breathing is even through his moist, slightly parted lips. My eyes continues their descent, and take in his muscular torso, left uncovered because of the heat. I lean over and trace a line down his arm, where I know the figure of Christ would have been inked, had it been Benji. Instead, I'm drawing a line down the middle of a tattooed hand with wings surrounding it.

As much as I don't want to think about it, he looks so beautiful when he sleeps. He looks peaceful and innocent, like all the stress that he's been through lately is gone. Forgotten. It's hard to believe he can have the nightmares he does.

I slowly swing my feet over the side of the bed, trying to shift it as little as possible, and I keep an eye on Joel's face as I climb out, making sure I'm not disturbing him. He grumbles quietly in his sleep, but doesn't move or open his eyes. I walk into the bathroom and grab a bathrobe the motel has provided us with and slip it on. Then I walk out into the cold, shoving a shoe in the doorway so I can get back in later.

I wander around the motel for a few minutes before I find a little spot that overlooks a nearby river. I can't really see anything in the dark, but I can hear it. I love the sounds that water makes - it seems to make me forget everything. I lift my eyes to the cloudless sky. There's a full moon.

There's a full moon.

I don't know how Benji can sleep in the seat of that cramped car, especially when it's this cold, but he was completely and utterly dead to the world. I didn't even wake him when I accidentally slammed the car door on my way out.

I've wandered a little way down the road, just looking up at the sky, when I hear footsteps behind me, and then a voice. "Billy?"

I turn around to face Benji, and he takes a few cautious steps towards me, reaching for me. I take a step toward him and take his hand, and he smiles with what looks like relief. My confusion obviosuly shows on my face, because he decides to explain. "I thought you were leaving or something," he squeezes my hand, "because of what happened today. I didn't mean to put pressure on you or anything."

I tug him closer and wrap my arms around his shivering form. He didn't even bother to put a shirt on before coming to look for me. It's kind of sweet, in a way. "I know, Benj. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk."

I gasp a little as his lips attach to my neck, and he trails kisses up and along my jaw, then pauses about an inch from my lips. "I didn't have any nightmares tonight."

My smile must be just about a mile wide, because Benji laughs and looks away in embarrassment. As soon as his eyes meet mine again, I lean in to kiss him. He returns the kiss gently, and I can tell he's holding back. Probably because he doesn't want to scare me off. What he doesn't realize is that I want him as much as he wants me, if not more. Benji is the first person I've ever loved, and I'm a virgin. I have two reasons for wanting my first time to be perfect, and I know he'll try so hard to make it special for me. He doesn't really need to try - all I want is a freakin' bed and some lube, is that too much to ask for?

We walk silently back to the car together, holding hands, and we climb into the back seat together. I lie on top of him, and he holds me and strokes my hair, insisting that he won't be able to sleep until I do. He's still afraid I'm going to leave him, I guess. I suppose if my Dad had walked out without so much as a goodbye, I'd be scared too.

"Benji," I mumble as I drift off, "I'll never abandon you."

He doesn't reply, but I know he hears me.

"Billy?"

I turn as I hear my sweet angel's voice, and smile at the figure standing a few feet from me. It's my Benji, pale skin standing out in the darkness. I want to run up and jump into his arms, to hug him and kiss him and tell him how much I've missed him, but deep down I know it's nothing more than a ghost of him. If I try to touch him, I'm afraid my hand will slip right through. He comes closer still, and I smile. "You came for me."

He nods slowly. "I thought you were leaving or something," he says softly, "when I woke up and you weren't there..."

I frown as I look him up and down. That's not what he's supposed to say. And he's dressed only in his boxers - he was wearing jeans when he came after me. He keeps coming closer until he's close enough for me to see him clearly. He's no longer a pale, ghostly silhouette in the dark, he's a real person. And he's not Benji. It's Joel. Of course it's Joel, Benji is dead. And ghosts don't exist. I'm going crazy. He pulls me into his arms and I sigh softly as I hug him. "Don't scare me like that, Billy."

"Sorry," I whisper before pressing my lips to his temple, "I couldn't sleep."

He presses his lips against mine briefly, then takes my hand. "It's okay. Come on, let's go back inside."

I nod, and he leads me back to our room and tucks me into the bed before getting in himself. He pulls me close, spooning me, and I close my eyes as he whispers into my ear, once again pretending the familiar voice belongs to his brother. "I love you, Billy."

Even as I slip into the realm of dreams, I know that Joel is nothing more than a ghost of him.

But he's all that I have left.