It had been four days since they had had the blow up on the phone. Justin had been beside himself. He wanted to call and apologize but knew how much Brian would hate that. He knew he couldn't just call and act like nothing happened, so he waited, hoping Brian would call him.

Finally when he was sitting at home, his nose in a book, his cell rang, Brian's name on the ID.

"Hello." Justin had no idea what to expect.

"Hey," Brian answered. "The police think they have the guy that was behind the bombing."

"What? You're kidding. That's great."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So, who was it?"

"I don't know, some right wing fanatic. Thinks since all fags are going to hell anyway, there's no harm in helping a few get there earlier."

"I don't understand people. How can they take a religion that is based on love and then twist it to be so full of hate?"

"I have no idea, that's why I stay the fuck away from church. Nothing but a bunch of hypocrites."

"Listen, Brian -"

"It's okay," Brian interrupted. He paused, then lowered his voice, "I miss you too."

"So why are we apart?" Justin dared to ask.

"Because, this is the way it has to be."

"But- "

"No, buts. Listen, I just wanted to tell you the news," Brian voice had turned raw, full of regret.

"Wait, Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just... Yeah," he whispered.

"Brian?"

"Just been thinking about that night… of the bombing. I thought that... If anything had happened to you."

"Nothing did though, I'm okay."

"I... ah... I need to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Brian?"

"I'm okay. I just… I need to go."

"Okay, later."

Justin hung up and sat thinking. How had they gotten here? After all they had been through and all they had felt for each other. It was then that Justin made a decision; he was miserable, Brian was miserable; it was time to take matters into his own hands.