***

Title: For Him
Author: Lizzie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: Again with the R rating. Why oh why can I not get above it?!
Content: Let�s see. We have mentions of self-injury, violence, lotsa blood, suicide, attempted suicide, m/m sex and incest. And who says I�m not cheerful?
Disclaimer: They're not mine, and unless I wake up one morning having mysteriously become Vince McMahon, I doubt they ever will be. Damn, that's a scary thought.
Distribution: Not that you're likely to want it, but if you do, just tell me where.
Summary: The first alternate ending of my Possession series. I hate having to call it a series but I guess it is now. This follows �Yours�, �His�, �Mine�, �For Me� and �For You�. And it�s from Matt�s POV.

***
For Him
***

In the moment my brother told me he loved me, suddenly everything I thought I knew was turned on its head. That was when I realised that everything I�d thought about him was wrong. That was when I realised how stupid my assumptions had been. Because in that moment, even if he couldn�t find the strength to say the words, I knew how he felt. It was the happiest moment of his life.

***

I always knew Jeff loved me. And I don�t mean it in the sense of brotherly love, even if he had a whole heap of that for me as well. He loved me, and I mean really loved me in the sense of he was *in* love with me. The way I was in love with him. But I always thought that it wasn�t right for him. I saw what he did to himself and I thought that he did it because he was ashamed or scared or whatever of what he was feeling for me. I�d see him cut himself or I�d walk in and find him after one of his attempted suicides and I�d just know that he�d done it because of me and the way he felt. Unless you�ve been there and done that, you�ll never understand how it feels to know that the one person in the world you love more than any other, the one person you never want to see hurt and would do anything to protect, wants to die because of how he feels about you.

So that�s why I never told him. I knew he loved me and I was pretty sure that if I told him I loved him too then he�d be so happy for a start, but after a while he�d just end up hurting himself again because of how wrong he thought it was. I could see how wrong he thought it was whenever I looked at him. There was something inside of him that just screamed �you�re not supposed to love your brother, Jeff�, and I saw that. And I guess I thought that if he believed it was wrong for us to be together so deeply that just wanting it made him do those things to himself, then actually doing them would kill him.

That�s a logical assumption, right? I don�t think it was just me. I know he hurt himself because of how he felt and I know he thought it was wrong. Doesn�t it follow that if he felt so bad about wanting it that he didn�t want to live anymore, doing it really would kill him? I think that makes sense. And I didn�t tell him because I didn�t want him to die and I didn�t want to be blaming myself for the rest of my life. I didn�t want to live without him, even if that meant him never knowing how I felt about him.

But when I walked into our hotel room that night and found him there, I couldn�t stop myself from telling him. I could see what he�d done and I could see he was dying and I needed him to know. So I told him. And when he smiled and told me he loved me too, that was when I realised I�d made the biggest mistake of my entire life.

***

Because he loved me. I really saw it and I really understood it in that moment. I�d known he loved me before then, I know, but that was when I realised that none of the other stuff mattered. It didn�t matter that he cut himself, that he made himself bleed because of me. It didn�t matter that he�d wanted to kill himself over this. It didn�t matter that he was with the single most twisted man I�ve ever met just to feel better. None of it mattered. Because he loved me.

And I knew, right then and right there as he lay dying in my arms, that if I�d told him sooner it would all have been okay. I�d been right that he hurt himself because of how he felt. And in some ways it was because he thought it was wrong, but that wasn�t the whole picture. He did it because he thought it was wrong and because he thought I�d never feel the same way about him. He did it because he thought it was wrong and because he didn�t want to live anymore if he couldn�t be with me. And he couldn�t be with me because what he felt was so twisted that it couldn�t be right. I knew all that.

But what I�d never realised before was that Jeff didn�t want to be right. He just wanted to be happy. And if he couldn�t have me then he couldn�t be happy. And that�s why he killed himself. Because he couldn�t live from day to day knowing that there could never be a time in his life when he�d feel truly happy. He was scared to death that he�d live never knowing how that felt, never knowing how it felt to love and be loved. It wasn�t because it was wrong. It was because he couldn�t have me.

So you see, that�s where I made the mistake. Whenever he hurt himself I thought he was doing it just because of the way he felt. I was wrong. He was doing it because he felt that way and he thought I�d never feel the same way about him. He thought it was so wrong I�d hate him if he told me, and he couldn�t live anymore knowing that he couldn�t tell me how he felt without me disowning him.

I just wish I�d known sooner. Because if I had then none of this would have happened. If I�d known then all it would have taken to make it all okay is for me to tell him how I felt. All I would have had to do is tell him I loved him and that I�d always love him, and all the things he did to himself would have stopped. He would�ve been okay. If I�d told him sooner, he�d still be here. If I�d told him sooner, my baby brother, the only person in this world that I�ve ever truly loved, would still be alive. He wouldn�t have killed himself.

I don�t know how I know all this. I just looked at him as he lay there bleeding and suddenly I knew. You shouldn�t be able to tell all that from one look, from one kiss. But I knew. Just like that everything I ever thought I knew about him shattered into a million bloody pieces and left me with the truth. I swear my heart broke. Because I knew it was my fault he�d died. All I would have had to do was say three little words and our whole lives would have changed, and he would have known that everything was going to be okay, that he didn�t have to hurt himself anymore. I could�ve shown him just how right this feeling was. I could�ve made him happy. But instead he lay there and died on the bathroom floor.

***

I�d been out at a bar since like eight-thirty that night, drinking with some of the guys. We�d been sitting around drinking and laughing and having a pretty good time. It had taken me a while to get past the stage where all I wanted to do was stare at Jeff across the table, but the drunker I got the better it felt. I got into drunken play-arguments with Jay about hockey or God only knows what, threw peanuts at Chris and Chris and agreed with Adam when he complained about the God-awful country music. By the time I�d finished my eighth beer I was far gone enough to try to pretend it didn�t matter that he was there.

But then he got up and told us he was leaving. For a second my heart was in my mouth because I had this horrible feeling he was going to do something stupid. But I guess the beer must�ve made me feel okay about it when he said he just had a headache and he�d see me later. He didn�t look like he was lying and usually I could tell when he was. So like a fool I let him go and I stayed with the guys.

The only problem was that all the time I was sitting there with them after he�d gone, I couldn�t stop thinking about him. I hate the way that works. It was okay for him to be sitting there with us because I knew he was okay and I knew where he was. But the moment he was out of my sight, I didn�t know what to do. I kept thinking about the last time I�d walked in and found him almost dead. We�d been staying in a hotel not too far from where we were then. But I managed to almost convince myself that he really was only going back to our room to grab some painkillers and go to sleep. I think the beer made it easier to think that.

But I kept on thinking about him, even after I�d convinced myself he wasn�t going to hurt himself. I had this image of him stuck in my head, him lying in bed asleep. Because that was when he looked the best. Well, maybe I don�t mean the best, I think I mean that was when it was best to watch him. He was always so perfect then, because every other time I watched him he looked so fucking tortured it practically broke my heart. He looked peaceful when he was sleeping. Like nothing mattered, like everything was going to be fine. Sometimes he even looked happy and I always wondered what he was dreaming about that made him look that way. I thought maybe if I knew then I could find some way to make his dreams come true and he�d look like that when he was awake, too.

I couldn�t stop thinking about him and to be honest I didn�t really want to. The image I had of him was so perfect and so clear, just beautiful. He was lying on his bed, on his side, almost curled up with his knees pulled up toward his stomach, one arm over his head and one hugging his chest, just the way he always slept. I could even see the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the small smile on his face and the tiny movements of his eyelids.

I could imagine walking over to him, standing over him, watching as he slept there with that peaceful look on his face. The only other time I�ve ever seen him look that peaceful was when he was dying. And I could see myself reaching down to brush the hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ear, careful not to wake him, but he shifted his head and smiled a little more as he felt my hand brush his cheek. So I knelt by the side of the bed and I just kept on stroking back his hair, feeling how warm he was. I really could almost feel it.

Then I�d kiss him, because in my dreams it didn�t matter if he knew how I felt. I�d lean in closer to him and brush my lips over his. They�d be so soft and so warm, and I�d just have to lean in and press against them. And he�d kiss me back. He�d press back against me and his mouth would open and he�d taste so sweet just like I always knew he would. He�d be perfect.

And I�d try to draw back but I wouldn�t be able to because I�d realise he�s holding me there. And when the kiss finally ends I�d look into his face and I�d see his eyes were open and I�d realise he�d been awake the whole time. He�d smile and I�d smile and I�d kiss him again. And again and again. Until we were undressing each other and fumbling with the buttons on my shirt and my pants until we were naked and pressed against each other, until every inch of us was touching and I could feel his heartbeat in his chest and until I was inside of him, showing him just how much I loved him.

But it�s not real. It was never real. I never got to show him. I never got to do any of that. I was just daydreaming in a loud bar sitting with a group of drunk friends. It hurt so much to know I could never show him how I felt, because I just knew it would�ve been so beautiful. But I couldn�t. All I could do was be there for him if he needed me and hope that was enough to keep him alive.

That�s why I left when I did. The others didn�t leave � they stayed there in the bar and drank �til they couldn�t stand like they always did, like I knew they would because I�d been with them more than I�d wanted to be in the few weeks before. Jeff hadn�t been around much and I hadn�t wanted to be alone so I�d been hanging around with all our depressingly cheerful and hockey-loving friends, feeling like a fifth wheel to all the couples. I wanted him to be there so I didn�t feel quite so bad about being there, but he was probably in Greenwich with Hunter. He was the one who got to be with Jeff. All I could do was be there when he wanted me to be, when he needed me to be.

As I was pretending to find something one of the Chrises had just said funny, it dawned on me that Jeff might need me then. He had a headache and he�d looked miserable all night so I thought maybe he could do with some company or something. So I mumbled something about leaving to the rest of the guys, who more than likely didn�t hear a word I said, but I didn�t care and they seemed to know what I was doing when I left the table and left the bar.

Hunter was in the elevator and got out in the lobby as I got in. He stepped out and froze for a second, giving me this deer-in-the-headlights look and rubbing at his hands, his head bowed. I remember thinking that was an odd look for Hunter, �cause he was always super-confident and he�d actually looked scared. I wondered what could�ve happened to make him look like that.

It didn�t register until the door had already closed that there were tears in his eyes, or that there was blood on his hands.

***

I hate Hunter. Before I knew he and Jeff were together I was kinda of indifferent to him � I never really talked to him and he wasn�t exactly going out of his way to talk to me so I never got to know him beyond what people told me. I guess I kinda looked up to him, which is sorta natural since he�s the best in the business and we all know it. Still, I wasn�t interested in getting to know him, just like I wasn�t avoiding him. Our paths just didn�t cross. I didn�t really think about him enough to either like him or dislike him.

But then I found out they were together. Jeff told me he was going to get away for a couple of days then when I was by the window in the room trying to get some air I saw him getting into Hunter�s car. And not only that � he leaned over in the front seat as Jeff was closing the door, and he kissed him. And instantly I hated him. I know it was just jealousy then, but I couldn�t help hating him. And later on when I realised what he was doing, that just made me hate him even more.

I could never understand how Hunter could love him and hurt him at the same time. Because he must have loved him. I don�t know how anyone couldn�t, especially someone who he was with for so long. Six or seven months, as far as I know, and maybe more because they looked like they�d been together for a while when I first found out. And when I saw him crying at Jeff�s funeral, I knew he�d loved him. He was never the type to cry, but he cried over losing Jeff.

I�m never going to understand how he could hurt him. I know he did because I saw the marks he made and I know that Jeff never tried to deny that he�d made them. I think Jeff almost wanted me to know. And some of the things he did to him must�ve hurt so much. I don�t know how Jeff could stay with him all that time when he was just killing him all the time they were together. He hit him and bruised his face. Now I think about it, he bruised him practically all over. Sometimes he�d come home with bruises around his wrists where he�d held them too tight. And sometimes he�d come home with an arm bandaged or a dressing on his chest, and I�d know Hunter had cut him. Or at least he�d watched him cut himself.

You see, that�s another thing I�m never going to understand. How the hell could he have loved him so much and still let him do that to himself, let alone doing it to him. Or for him, or whatever you want to call it. I saw Jeff do it a couple of times and it damn near broke my heart. Standing there watching as he cut himself, wincing as the blade sliced into his arm, wanting to grab his hand and stop him because that just had to hurt so much. I�m not even going to try to understand how he could do that. And I don�t want to know how Hunter could watch him do it, either. It makes me sick just thinking about it. It makes me sick knowing he was with Hunter and that Hunter did all that stuff to him, and that he was never going to leave him. At least not until Hunter killed him, or he killed himself. The way he beat him, I figured that wasn�t going to be long a time coming.

And the night he died, I knew there was something wrong. When I saw Hunter coming out of the elevator, when I saw the look on his face and when I registered the blood on his hands, I knew there was something wrong. I think I knew he must�ve hit him. I think I knew he�d been to our room and that he�d found him there and that he�d beaten him. But from the look on his face, something had gone wrong. He couldn�t have looked that way if everything had gone the way it was supposed to, and usually did. If things had gone the way he�d wanted, he probably would never have left and I�d have ended up walking in on them fucking or something. I almost wish that could�ve been what had happened. It would�ve hurt like hell to see them there like that, but I could�ve lived with it. If he�d beaten Jeff bloody like he always seemed to and then stayed with him and dressed his wounds like I guess he must have usually done, then it would�ve been okay. Because at least that wouldn�t have meant something was wrong. At least not as wrong as it turned out to be.

Because he had hit him. I don�t think he meant to that night, but he had. And it wasn�t like all the other times, because this time he�d gone too far. And it might�ve been okay if he�d stayed with him and tried to make it better, but that�s not what happened. He panicked and he left. That gave Jeff just the opportunity he needed. And it meant I got to be the one who found him.

***

My heart was hammering in my chest by the time the doors opened and I got to our floor. I wasn�t sure whether I wanted to go back down and run after Hunter and scream at him and find out what the fuck he�d done to my baby brother or just go to the room and find out. But I didn�t go after Hunter. I realised it wasn�t such a good idea because I�d probably just vent all the anger I had toward him and show him exactly how much I hated him. I hated what he did to Jeff. I�d been wanting to show him how it felt to have someone beat him like he beat my brother. And I probably wouldn�t have stopped until someone called the cops or he was lying there dead in a pool of his own blood. Sometimes I think he would�ve deserved it, too. But that�s not what I did.

The elevator doors opened and I ran down the corridor to the room. I couldn�t get the door open for a start because I was shaking so hard and I couldn�t get the key card to work, but then it opened and I practically fucking fell in through the door.

There was blood on the carpet. I could tell because even though the room was dark the carpet was light and the bloodstains just showed up clear as day. There were stains on the walls, too, where I just knew he�d hit Jeff�s head against them. Repeatedly. I felt like I was going to throw up. But I didn�t because I realised that the bathroom door was open and the light was on in there too. And if I couldn�t see Jeff in the bedroom, that was where he had to be.

I couldn�t run because my knees were so weak and the beer had made me so unsteady, but I got there. I couldn�t believe what I was seeing. Again. He done it again.

There was blood all over. Practically the whole floor was covered in it. His blood. Pumping out of his wrists. There was a razorblade sitting off to his side. He�d slit his wrists. Again. It was like I was having a fucking flashback, except it was real and I knew it was. He�d done it again.

There were tears in my eyes and I almost couldn�t breathe as I fell to my knees in the pool of blood in front of him. He was so pale and so still that for a second I thought he was dead, but there wasn�t that look of peace like he�d had last time. He was alive. He opened his eyes.

�You weren�t supposed to come�, he told me. His voice was so quiet, almost just air. I couldn�t believe he�d said that.

�So I was supposed to come in when you were already dead?� I asked. Then I realised what a stupid question that was. Of course I was. He was supposed to have died. That�s generally the idea when you�re committing suicide. But he should�ve known I was going to come. I always did. I was always the one who found him. It always fell to me to save him. Like I tried to that time. I always had to try, because I knew I couldn�t just sit by and watch him die, even if I knew that was exactly what he wanted. He would�ve liked to sit there and hold him while he died and left me alone.

But that�s not what I did. I yanked off my shirt and I pulled at it until I had two bits to try to stop the blood from coming out of his slashed wrists. But it just soaked straight through. I was yelling at him but I had no idea what I was saying. It didn�t matter. I just wanted him to hear my voice, to know that I didn�t want him to go, that I wasn�t going to let him.

Then all at once I realised there was nothing I could do. There was nothing I could do at all because he�d already lost too much blood and he was going to die whatever I did.

So I held him. I just leant forward and I pulled him into my arms and I held him. There was nothing else I could do. I was sobbing so hard that I couldn�t see straight and I was just trying to do what I knew he wanted me to now. But it felt so bad. I couldn�t believe I was there too late. I�d walked in and I�d found him, but I was too late. How fair was that? I couldn�t believe God could be so cruel. What was the fucking point in me finding him if I couldn�t save him?

�You can�t die�, I sobbed, whispered, into his bloody hair. �You can�t die, Jeff. Please don�t. Please don�t leave me. I don�t know what I�ll do if you die. Christ, I love you so much. I never wanted this to happen. If I�d known you were going to do this� Jeff!�

I must�ve been hurting him with how hard I was holding him. And I could see that he was hurt. There were cuts on his forehead and his face was swelling and bruised � Hunter had beaten him. Hunter had beaten him then left him on his own to kill himself. I�ll never forgive him for that. And he didn�t have the strength to hold me back, but he was trying. I could feel it. He wanted to hold me. Knowing that just made me hold him tighter so maybe he�d know that I could feel it. I needed him to know.

�You can�t die, Jeff. You can�t. I just love you so much and you can�t die. Oh God, I�ve been in love with you for so long� I need you, Jeff. I don�t think I can do this without you��

I choked it out, sobbing like a fucking child. I almost didn�t know I was saying it until it was out and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn�t believe I�d said it. It hurt so much to think I might have just made the last few moments of his life awkward with what I felt.

But he looked up at me with a question in his eyes and tried to say �you love me?� I nodded. I told him I did. I told him I always had. And he smiled and told me he loved me too.

I didn�t know what to say but it didn�t matter because the words were coming on their own. I was kneeling there in front of him, feeling the blood soaking into my clothes, feeling him getting cold in my arms, and I was babbling like an idiot, telling him everything I�d always wanted to tell him but couldn�t. Because I knew he was going to die and there was nothing to stop me anymore. The barriers between us were broken down. I said everything I�d ever wanted to say.

And that�s when I knew I was wrong. I was wrong about him and everything I�d thought he felt about us being together. He�d wanted it as much as I had. He�d needed it. All he�d ever wanted was for me to love him and now I�d told him I did. And I knew I should�ve told him before, because when I looked into his eyes I could see the panic. He didn�t want to die. He�d wanted to before but now he knew he didn�t want to leave me. And I didn�t want to let him go. But neither of us had a choice. He was going to die.

I kissed him. Out first and lass kiss together at the same time. And I felt him try to kiss me back but I knew he didn�t have the strength to do it. Then he looked into my eyes and I felt everything he wanted me to feel. I knew he loved me.

And then he closed his eyes. I pulled him to me and I held him and I felt his heart beating, but it was so slow and so faint, and I sat there, feeling how cold he was, feeling the life pulling away from him, crying for him, looking into his face and it was so peaceful and so happy. I held him there until he was gone.

***

I held him for a while after he died, because I couldn�t leave him. I didn�t want to believe he was really gone, because it wasn�t fair that we�d only had that one moment before he�d died when we both knew how we felt. We�d loved each other. I didn�t want to let that go.

But I had to. He went cold and I had to accept that he was gone now. So I set his body back against the bathtub and I left the room. I wasn�t sure what I was supposed to do, so I picked up the phone and I called reception. First they didn�t believe me but I think that eventually I convinced them and they told me they�d call the police or something and send someone up.

I thanked the shocked woman I�d been talking to then hung up and called Adam and Jay to tell them he was dead. And I called Vince. And I called Chris and Chris, and Amy, and Shane and Shannon who were probably in New York or something, and I called everyone I could think of. I think I was trying to convince myself that he was really gone by telling everyone we knew that he was dead.

I sat on my bed with Adam and Jay and tried not to sob while his body was taken away. I felt sick and I felt numb and I didn�t know what I was going to do. I answered a few questions when the police officer asked me. Then I went with Adam and Jay to their room and they told me to try to get some sleep. I remember telling them that someone should call Hunter. I changed out of my bloody clothes and lay down in one of their beds, and when I slept all I dreamt was holding him and seeing his blood on my hands.

***

I wanted to make all his funeral arrangements myself, but when it really came to it I couldn�t. It was hard to think then, just after he�d died, because it felt like there was a big chunk of me that was missing or had died with him. It was like I couldn�t function without him, just like I�d always known it would be. And for a while I really thought I wanted to kill myself. I thought I might do it the same way he had, because if he�d tried it twice like that then maybe it wasn�t so bad. But I knew I couldn�t do it until after the funeral. I needed to see him buried first. I needed to know that everything was the way it should be.

More people than I can remember helped out with the arrangements. The week and a half it took to get everything together was just a blur to me. It seemed like one second I was going to sleep in that hotel and the next I was standing in the cemetery next to his grave watching them lower the casket into the ground. And I looked up over the hole that they were putting him into and straight over at Hunter.

He was standing there in a black suit and a black tie and he had his hair loose which I thought was strange. It was hanging around his face and I realised he had it that way so that no one could see he was crying. He maybe wasn�t sobbing and wailing like a few of the girls were doing, but he was definitely crying. There were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks and he wasn�t even bothering to wipe them away. I don�t even know if he knew they were there. That�s the moment I realised he really had loved him.

I took a handful of earth and tossed it into the grave. I thought for a moment then I told the priest to offer the earth to him, too. It was the right thing to do and I knew it. He frowned for a second and when he looked up at me I just nodded and he knew it was okay. He took a handful of it and tossed it down too. No one would understand why I�d done that or why he�d accepted, but it didn�t matter. It was just something we�d both needed to do. We�d both said our goodbyes.

And suddenly it didn�t matter that he was one of the reasons my brother was dead. It didn�t matter that I hated him. He�d loved Jeff and in some ways I think that Jeff had loved him. What they�d had might not have been good and it might not have been right but I couldn�t deny that it had happened. Sometimes I think Hunter was what kept Jeff alive as long as he was. I know it wasn�t me.

***

There was a party afterwards, at my place, at our house. I don�t understand why there are always parties after funerals. No one feels like being there and you�re not supposed to have fun. And all I did was sit in a corner and listen to people telling me how sorry they were and how tragic it was, like I didn�t already know. I was almost grateful when Hunter came over and took me away into another room.

He told me he was grateful for what I�d let him do. He told me he missed Jeff. He told me he hadn�t meant to hurt him that night. He told me he�d hurt him before and that he knew I must know that, but he needed me to know that he hadn�t meant to hurt him that night. I believed him. I told him I did.

And in that moment I understood why Jeff had wanted to be with him. Because I felt it. It was overwhelming. I needed him, just like Jeff had. I knew what he�d do to me and I knew that I�d let him. Because I was empty inside. I knew that I could never ever be happy again in this life because I couldn�t have the one thing I wanted. I wasn�t sure I could live knowing that I could never be happy again. And I couldn�t live at all unless I could have this.

I understood how Jeff had felt. I needed to hurt. I needed him to hurt me. It shocked me and I wasn�t sure how I was supposed to feel, knowing what I wanted him to do to me and that it was the exact same thing he�d done to my baby brother. When I realised it was what he wanted too I couldn�t stop myself from shivering.

Hunter asked me if I�d see him. When I told him I�d think about it I think he knew I meant yes.

***

I don�t know if Hunter�s my substitute for Jeff. I don�t know if I�m Hunter�s substitute for Jeff. But it doesn�t matter now anyway, because all that matters is we�re together. We have been for three months now, I�ve been living with him like he�d wanted Jeff to do. He moved into the house Jeff and I had shared. And he�s hurt me all I wanted. He�s good at it.

When Hunter hurts me it feels better, and I know how Jeff felt. I need to hurt to feel better. It�s like I�m controlling the pain for a while, instead of just being overwhelmed by it. At least, it�s like Hunter�s controlling the pain. I like that. I like that someone else could control how bad it feels. I like that Hunter knows it.

When he cuts me it feels good. I hate that it does but I�m not going to tell him no. Not unless I think it�s what he wants to hear. Because I want to make him happy. I want him to make me happy, too. But we�re never going to be. We both lost the one thing that could do that for either of us. And when he cuts me I feel like he cares for me. I care for him, too, because that�s the way this works. I need him and he needs me and even if we�re never going to be in love the way we both were with Jeff, this is all we have left. It�s all we�ll ever have now that he�s gone.

I just hope that wherever he is, Jeff knows this isn�t about me, and this isn�t about Hunter. I�m doing all this and letting Hunter do this because eventually I�m going to go the same way my brother did. And Hunter�s not doing it for himself, either. We�re stuck in this together with no way out. It�s painful and it�s wrong and we shouldn�t be doing it. So I hope Jeff knows we�re doing this for him.

***
End
***

Check back soon for the (happy) alternate ending!! And don't forget to let me know what you thought at [email protected]