I woke up the next morning with Ian's head on my shoulder and his arm around my body. The boy's position was much like that Mike would have adopted on similar mornings, but strangely enough the emotions that I would have expected, the grief and the anger, were not present. Disconcerted, I lay dozing until Ian's waking movements disturbed me.

"Morning, Benji," Ian greeted me sleepily.

"Morning, Ian."

My friend stretched mightily and returned to his prone state with his head on my shoulder. A curious warmth spread throughout my body as his hand idly stroked my stomach, and that heat was centered in my groin. I knew immediately what was happening so I pulled away from him, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"Ian, I can't."

His voice shook slightly when he spoke. "Can't what, Ben?"

Turning, I saw a fearful expression on his face, one totally out of proportion to what I had said.

"I can't... do that... with you," I admitted sadly. "It's not right."

"What do you mean it's not right?" Again the anxiety in his voice was more than the situation warranted.

"I can't, not without Mike," I quietly explained. "Not yet. Maybe not ever."

Ian held his eyes downcast. I didn't understand why this was so, nor did I press the issue.

"I'm sorry, Ben. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay, Ian," I assured him gently. "You said last night that you couldn't replace Mike. You're right: you can't replace him, but you can keep the place you've always had. Right now I need a friend. A very good friend. And you're the only one I have."

Ian sat next to me and put his arm around me tentatively. When I didn't move away he hugged me sideways.

"I'll be here for you forever, Ben," he said in a stronger voice. "All you have to do is call me, okay? You're my brother and I love you."

We put on some gym shorts and went to the kitchen for breakfast. It was Friday, but Liz, Ian's mom, was home. She would normally have been at the professional center where she worked as a nurse, so her presence emphasized the fact they were worried about me. Murray was sitting at the table waiting patiently for his mother to deliver the goods. He was as cute as his brother, and he had the same irrepressible sunny disposition Ian usually displayed. It seemed that Mike's passing had put a damper on everyone's spirits.

"Good morning, boys. Sit down: breakfast is almost ready."

"Morning, Mom,"

"Morning, Momtwo."

She smiled at us before going back to the task at hand. We waited silently until she finished her preparations. Murray received his stack of pancakes first. The boy slathered them with enough butter to instantly clog his arteries and enough syrup to send a normal human into insulin shock before cutting off the first bite. He moaned in pleasure as he chewed slowly, savoring the flavor. I shook my head as his antics continued, a grin reaching my mouth.

Ian, who was sitting next to me at the table, leaned over and bumped me with his shoulder. He was smirking at Rayray's clowning around, too. Murray took another bite and completely exaggerated his previous reaction, going as far as intentionally falling out of his chair and rolling on the ground with arms around his stomach, an enormous beatific smile on his face and loud moans of approval. I couldn't help myself. I cracked up and laughed hard, holding my gut. Ian was chortling out of control and joined his little brother on the floor, which increased my mirth to painful levels. I couldn't breathe.

Liz watched us with fond amusement as our laughter wound down. Ian and his brother regained their seats.

In a small voice, Murray said, "I wish Mike could be here."

Liz looked at me as I looked at Rayray. She was concerned that I would break down again, but my younger friend's words didn't evoke that kind of reaction. A sad smile set itself on my features.

"Me, too, Murray. Me too."

My twin's happy laughter echoed in my mind as I ate breakfast with my extended family. Mike would have loved to have been a part of the fun that morning. In a way he was, at least for me.

"What do you boys want to do today?" Momtwo asked. "It's going to be very hot, so if you are going to do anything outside, do it early."

Murray and Ian looked to me for an answer. I shrugged and said, "I don't care. I need to go home and get some things I forgot. Other than that…." I shrugged again.

"I'll call and see when would be a good time to go over, Ben."

"Whenever."

"How about we go out to City Park?" Ian suggested. "We could go to the water park."

"I don't know…" I hedged. "I'm kind of tired. I'd rather stick around here if you wouldn't mind."

"No, that's cool," Ian said, obviously disappointed. "We can go later."

I dropped my eyes to the floor, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Ian."

"Hey. There's nothing to be sorry about, Ben. You've… ah… had a lot happen, a lot to deal with." His words increased the sense of shame I felt. "It's okay, Ben. Really."

I nodded, and stared at the remaining food on my plate. My appetite had fled.

"May I be excused?" I asked Liz quietly.

Her answering nod did nothing to hide her concern, and a glance at the Kettenger brothers told me they thought I was mad. I might have been, too, because that was the first time I had ever asked anyone to be excused from the table anywhere. I rose slowly and started toward Ian's room, but I stopped in the middle of the family room. I really wanted to be alone. Since I was sharing Ian's room, his bedroom was communal and I wouldn't commandeer it from him. I was a guest, after all. Turning right, I passed by the couch and computer desk to open the sliding glass door to the deck overlooking the back yard. There were some chairs surrounding a low table to my left, and I sat in the corner chair before propping my feet up on the table and hugging myself.

"This is so hard, Mikey."

It'll get easier. It'll just take some time.

"I don't want it to get easier. I want you back."

Benji, you know that can't happen. What's done is done and you need to move on.

"I don't want to leave you behind, Mike!"

I left you behind, Benji.

The door opened. Ian poked his head through.

"Can I come out?" he questioned tentatively.

"Sure," I sighed.

Ian closed the door behind him and sat in the chair next to me. I moved my feet over on the table to give him room. He glanced up at me long enough to make eye contact before dropping his gaze again. I felt a pang of loneliness when he couldn't look at me.

"Were you talking to Mike?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I do that a lot. Or I have since you found me at -- where he's buried."

Ian fell silent for a bit. When he spoke again, his voice betrayed his curiosity.

"What does Mike say, Ben?"

I glared at him, but he wasn't looking at me to see. I sighed again.

"I hear his voice in my head, and it's like I can talk to him. Mostly I tell him how much I miss him. That and how… how he should be here."

Looking up again, I met Ian's gaze and held it. My unspoken words were clear to him.

"You should be here, too, Ben," he insisted. "I'm going to keep telling you this until you understand it: you didn't do anything wrong, and what happened to Mike isn't your fault. It was an accident."

"Yeah, but…"

"But nothing," Ian said sharply. "You're being an asshole. What does Mike say about it?"

I tried to keep eye contact but found I couldn't.

"He said the same thing."

"Okay then. Both of your brothers have told you you're not to blame. Are you going to believe us?"

Ian's tone showed he was asking in earnest. He wanted me to believe what he was saying, and he thought that by invoking Mike he might have a better chance.

He was right.

"Yeah."

My downcast eyes seemed to concern Ian. He got up and knelt beside me.

"Ben, I'm sorry. That wasn't very nice of me. I'm just really worried, you know? I lost one of my two best friends, and I'm afraid my other best friend will go away."

I looked into his eyes and searched them for… something. In them I found sincerity and a warmth that I hadn't noticed before tucked away behind the fear. Mentally pulling back, I examined Ian's face. He really was a beautiful boy.

There's no reason to hold back, Ben.

I grimaced.

"What is it, Ben?" Asked Ian.

"Nothing," I said dismissively. "You'll think I'm stupid."

"Ben, nothing about you is stupid, and you know I mean that."

After a moment's pause, I replied, "It was something that Mike… said just now, I guess. If that's what you want to call it."

"What did he say?" my friend inquired.

"That I should stop focusing on him and move on," I remarked candidly.

Liar.

"What do you think about what he said?" Ian asked. I searched for traces of mockery in his words and found none.

"It hurts so much, Ian. I don't know if I'm ready to do that."

My blood brother nodded. "I can understand that, Benji. I'm here for you, okay?"

"I know."

Tell him I love him.

"What did he say?"

I looked at Ian, confused. "How did you know…."

"You got this strange expression so I thought he might be talking to you."

"He was. He… he told me to tell you he loves you."

Ian's reaction was unanticipated, but I should have expected it. He leaned over the arm of the chair and hugged me awkwardly as he began to weep. I shifted in my seat to make things easier. As his sobs grew, I whispered in his ear.

"Ian? I love you too."


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