Unable to move after everything, Nathan had gone home with Donovan. When the courts had made their decision about Ian and Tanner, they had handed his to Allen. Nathan was essentially free to do what he wanted, though he had to report moving and set himself up with a community service center and stay in contact with his probation officer. There were a lot of nuances of course, but he hadn't had the ability to go over or understand them all yet.

It was strange, but Donovan had gone home in the same car as Rachel and Oliver, with Halen sliding in the front. Allen had mentioned Donovan being with the Moceris, but Nathan had forgotten in all of his grief.

No one said anything the entire ride there.

They all went in and turned in separate directions in a building big enough to house a small army. In Donovan's room, Nathan was sitting on the bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, staring at a box in front of him. It was a box of letters and Nathan couldn't bring himself to open any of them.

They were the last words of a lonely, broken man, and Nathan didn't know if he could bear them. Donovan came over and sat down next to him, the bed sinking with him. Reaching forward, Donovan pulled the box to him and opened the lid.

"Here." Donovan set one in his hands.

Nathan trembled, unsure if he would be able to handle it, and tears dripped down his cheeks as he looked to the outside of the envelope.

It's going to be okay. Read this one first.

From the grave, Ian was thinking about him, and Nathan couldn't refuse the kindness that he'd always shown him. Leaning against Donovan, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

I hope you're not mad at me. I know you might have mixed feelings about my execution. Knowing you, you're not, but I apologize if you did want to see me die. I didn't want you to, so I hope my selfishness didn't cause you too much pain.

It's strange writing this letter and thinking about how I'll no longer be there to make your pain go away, or make it worse. Hell, I was a terrible friend.

Nathan could hear Ian's laugh with his last words, and he pulled the letter away from his face so that his tears didn't drip on it and mar the smooth even letters. Ian had very nice penmanship despite all of the stress he'd been under.

For a while, it's going to hurt, I know. Some of this shit I wrote, you shouldn't read now. I labeled the ones that might cause you grief so you can read them when you are strong enough to stand on your own. I know that's something every man struggles to do, grieving or not. I think you did a good job handling yourself, all things considered.

You're a strong kid, and I'm glad to have spent my final days with you.

I told you that, when you visited today, but I'll tell you again.

Nathan only wished that he was strong. If he'd been strong though, strong enough to not push that boy that day, he would have never met Ian. It had been weakness that had brought him and Ian together, but here he was saying that he was strong.

Whenever you find you're ready to face life again, you should really finish school. I know they yanked you out for this whole process, but getting your GED is a cake walk if you've done most of it already. That way, you won't have to go back to a bunch of kids who will judge you for things out of your control.

You got so caught up with us, I think you may have forgotten about you. I never really heard what happened with you and how you ended up with us until our last meeting at the prison. Talk about it with Donovan if you need someone to lean on. That bastard got out of our cruel end, so at least you will have him. Make sure you take care of you before you worry about others, Nat.

In all of this he had forgotten about himself. The angry painful thoughts of the things he had done had been buried by the much more serious feelings and issues that had smothered him at the pen. Only when he had seen his mother for the first time since his trial had he even considered himself and his crimes.

Don't forget about my car. It's still yours and in your name now. I'm sure Donovan can help you get your license, and if you take care of it, you should be able to have it forever. I know it might be painful to drive, remembering me in it, but I really do want you to have it. I had to drive some piece of shit when I was going to college and hunting for my first job, so you should appreciate it.

The last thing I wanted to say before the emotional paragraph where I make you cry, is that I named you my beneficiary. I have no family. I never did. And I'll be damned if they give my shit to my parents. I... have a lot of... stuff. It was all put into storage when I was convicted, but I was unsure what I intended to do with it. You by no means have to keep it all. I just wanted you know about it before it showed up at your door wherever you settle.

The money though, please keep. Use it to start your life. It would make me no happier than to know that I could give you something that I was never able to give myself. Life in general sucks. You constantly spend your life trying to grasp for something out of reach. Making ends meet, your first place, then a better job, a better house, an education. It just keeps changing what it is you strive for.

In the end, none of that matters. You die and can't take anything with you.

So, if you do me one favor, Nathan, just live.

Do what you want to do, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

It's not their life.

It won't be there end.

It took me too long to realize that.

That's all I have to say for this one. I know I shouldn't overwhelm you.

If you want soothing words to help you cope, there's a stack labeled for that. Sorry, I'm very organized. I just wrote whatever the hell I wanted and then sorted them based off of how I thought you'd react to them.

Oh, and go find a girl and fuck her, you goddamn virgin.

Ian would have made sure to say that. Turning the second page in his hands, there was one last thing written on the back, and he narrowed his eyes to read the tiny writing.

PS: I hope whatever hell Rick goes to, that it's just full of the gays.

Nathan laughed, dropping the letter into his lap and leaning into Donovan. Right now, he couldn't handle thinking about the more serious matters, but he was happy to have been able to read Ian's actual final thoughts. All he wanted to do right now was fade into the darkness. Even soothing words would be difficult, and he just wanted to sleep.

"Donovan," Nathan spoke, but couldn't look at him.

"Yes?" Donovan ran his hand gently over his hair, and he choked on his tears.

"Will you... sleep with me?"

It was strange to ask it of him, as they had never been that physically close, but Donovan would understand. Nathan couldn't be alone right now, and he needed someone to touch. The distance and lack of Ian's constant presence was what was killing him the most.

Donovan sighed lightly and picked up the letter and the box, setting them next to the bed. Leaning over, he clicked off the side lamp and slid down in the bed.

"Not forever, but for now, yes." Donovan slid his arm under Nathan's neck and pulled him toward him. Even though he tried not to, Nathan let out a gasp as Donovan pressed him tightly to his chest.

It was so warm.

So familiar.

It brought back a heavy feeling of nostalgia. There had been nothing more comforting than Ian's strong arms around him, protecting him from his fears, and the abnormal heat of having another human so close to him.

"This is weird, isn't it?" Nathan smiled into Donovan's chest as tears slid down his face into his shirt. No matter how much he reminisced, Donovan wasn't Ian.

"Yeah, a bit," Donovan said 'a bit' as if it were just there to soften how awkward this was.

"You're so comfortable though," Nathan teased, and Donovan tensed up and buried his face in his pillow. Nathan laughed and nuzzled his own into Donovan's chest. "It can't be that bad."

"Oh, it's that bad." Donovan groaned. "Even as a parent, adult children don't cling to you in bed. This is just..." Donovan rubbed his forehead.

"Well, at least I'm soft like a girl. Isn't this where you close our eyes and pretend I'm pretty?"

Donovan laughed, awkwardly albeit, but he shook as he held Nathan to him.

"Dammit all, Nathan, Ian has ruined you."

"I know." Nathan smiled and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Donovan's shirt.

Donovan had never smelled like Ian's spicy cologne and stale cigarettes, though the latter had faded to mint after a time. It was a strange thing to observe in his grief, but Donovan smelled like soap, and a more subtle antiperspirant that was gentler on his senses.

It was calming enough that he drifted toward sleep.

Maybe he would dream.

Something peaceful.

Word count: 1633 -- Edited July 16th, 2020