{trigger warning: mentions of abuse, murder, and suicide, mention of death, description of cemetery and gravestones}

When he was nine, Josh's father killed his mother during a domestic dispute. According to Josh, who was biased but the only source Tyler had, he'd been abusive before, but never to that extent. He locked him and his little sisters in a closet to watch as he beat her to death with a baseball bat. She'd been nine months pregnant at the time. The baby, a boy, was stillborn.

Their bodies sat in the Golden House cemetery, right outside of Los Angeles. Josh and his sisters got tossed into the foster system for a year before being taken in by his mother's estranged sister. She cared for the three of them like she was their mother, and since Abigail was so young, she didn't know anything else beside life with her. Only Josh and Ashley did.

Tyler's family was nowhere near as chaotic as Josh's. His mother was a paranoid schizophrenic who could barely take care of herself and his father left when he was ten, but he was an only child. He practically raised himself and lost himself in books, no matter the genre. Maybe that was why he was screwed up in the head. The only guidance he had as a kid was from the Hobbit and any textbooks he could get his hands on.

After his mother killed herself, just before he and Josh got together, that had been the first time Tyler had felt loss so intensely. Emotions were a tricky thing with him. He either felt nothing or too much.

He'd almost taken his life around the same time, and he would've succeeded if Josh hadn't broken into his apartment in time to literally slap the gun out of his hand. Tyler loved him for saving him. He still did.

Which was why it was so important for him to repay Josh for the support he'd given without expecting any in return. That was also how they ended up staring down two headstones in a plot of land thirty-two graves above the legal capacity.

Josh held white carnations in one hand and Tyler's cane in the other. Tyler stood beside him, reading and rereading the two tombstones.

LAURA LEE McCOLLUM
1965-2000
May the darkness that followed her in life be replaced with light in death.

JORDAN DUN
2000-2000
An angel God called back to early.

"You know, white carnations symbolize innocence, pure love, and good luck. None of that has to do with grief despite carnations being a popular choice for funerals to use  to make wreaths and decorative-"

"Carnations were her favorite." That made Tyler shut up. "We had bushes of these in our front yard. She was so proud of them."

Josh pulled the dead flowers from the cracking glass vase and replaced them with the bouquet in his hand. Tyler watched for a moment before shrugging the bag he'd taken with him off his shoulders.

"You know, Momma Dun, your son's kind of an ass," he said, earning a bizarre look from Josh. "He didn't even introduce me to you."

A smile flickered across his face and Josh sat down, patting the grass beside him. With some difficulty, Tyler sat down as well, pulling out the liter bottle of water, heavy duty gloves, plastic bags, new glass vase, scissors, and plant food he'd bought when Josh wasn't looking.

"You're really trying to impress the folks," Josh laughed softly, picking up the ornate vase. It had red and yellow flowers painted in the translucent glass. "She would've loved it. Thank you."

Tyler leaned against Josh. "Anything for my family."

The two of them spent the afternoon pulling weeds from their graves, replacing the vases and flowers, and ordering pizza. The delivery man must've been confused when he was told to deliver a large Hawaiian style pizza to a cemetery.

They ate pizza, drank wine, and talked about anything and everything, the usual disdain of graves that Tyler felt dissipating as the sun set, sending watercolors across the sky. Life was good. Josh still wanted to marry him despite his issues, he finally got to see his family again, and Tyler hadn't killed someone in a week since Brendon disappeared, hopefully for good this time.

Then it all went to shit, as per usual.

"Remember when we broke into that children's waterpark during our vacation and got shitfaced at the bar next to the hot tub?" Josh asked, obviously tipsy. His face was flushed red, with hazy eyes that Tyler lived to stare into.

"You trying to turn on the slides so you could go down it and breaking the pipes is still the funniest shit I've ever seen," Tyler snorted. "We were so drunk."

"We're so drunk now!"

"If you're both drunk, who's going to drive?"

Tyler's face fell, and he almost dropped the wine glass in his hand. Josh faltered for a moment, sending him a confused look before raising his hand, gesturing for the glass.

"Okay, mister, that's enough. You've had way drunk too much for you lightweight ass," he giggled, not reaching far enough to grab it from Tyler's hand.

He forced a smile, but couldn't ignore Brendon's hot, decayed breath on the back of his neck. "You drank most of the bottle."

"So? I'm not hundreds pounds."

"Correction, 153.7 pounds."

"He knows, he's just flirting," Brendon scoffed. "Oh, I understand. You're flirting back. Gross."

"Should we head back to the hotel? It's getting late and I don't think I'm sober enough to run from the cops," Tyler said, draining his cup of alcohol.

Josh nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I can't kicked outta dear old mom's new house."

He stood and helped Tyler up, and they drunkenly picked up their things. Brendon stood at the gates when they left, and he sat in the seat behind them in the bus. And he stayed even after Tyler fell asleep with a mixture of dread and hope.