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Standing in the car park of the police headquarters was an odd place to have a meltdown, but needs must. I was not doing well, and at least partly because I was not surprised. The feeling had been growing for some time, but for Mike and Kelly the reality was proving harder to swallow.

"It must be a mistake."

My bull was still shaking his head, pacing across the concrete like a feral bull waiting to be let out to the paddock.

"Mike..."

"It must be a mistake."

"Sarge, you know Gaius doesn't make mistakes like that."

The rabbit had her ears down and her arms folded across her chest. I looked in her eyes and saw the confusion, but not the anger of Mike. She was at least processing it better.

"Constable, don't give me that shit..."

"Sarge, I spoke to Peg. I asked about the match she saw, between the colt you arrested and the picture from the file. She said it wasn't a likeness, it was a dead match. She doesn't make those mistakes either."

"Why didn't you tell me this constable?"

"Because I didn't believe it myself Sarge."

"And now?"

She shook her head and looked at her paws.

"I don't fucking know."

"What about you Nigel?"

I let out a sigh and leaned on the cop car. Perhaps he would not believe me, perhaps he would not trust me, but I knew what I knew.

"Mike...since the beginning, I've had a feeling. Something was wrong, something I couldn't explain. He knew too much, too much nobody could really know except...well, except the real Andy. I know it doesn't make sense..."

"Too fucking right it doesn't. You are allowing your dick to cloud your judgement..."

"No I'm not Mike! Yes, I have feelings for the colt, but it's more than that. Something I cant explain."

The bull snorted and shook his head.

"There has to be a rational explanation for this, and I'm going to find it. We are heading back to Ringwood."

The rabbit shook her head.

"Sarge, I have to appear I court this afternoon remember? The case could go on depending on the listings hearing..."

"Fine Constable, do what you have to do. I'm going to do what I have to do. Nigel, are you coming with me?"

"Where Mike?"

"I'm going back to see Brian again. That dog has some explaining to do I think, and I am going to find out what he knows."

We left Kelly to get into her dress uniform for court, and took Mike's car heading back to the freeway. There was no conversation on the road, and it was probably for the best. I had no idea what to say, and no idea how to avoid another argument.

When we got to the station again, the desk officer, a lion, was not pleased to see us.

"Sergeant...Brian has gone home sick. I have been instructed to report your presence to the senior officer..."

"Fine, you do that kitty. Tell him to get fucked, from me with love and kisses ok?"

He stormed out, and I followed with a slightly embarrassed wave at the lion. This would not do.

"Mike, I don't think that was too helpful."

"Fuck helpful. Fuck that colt. And fuck you Nigel..."

"Mike..."

"When this is over we are done, ok? I can't face this shit..."

My heart felt like lead as we drove through suburban Ringwood, looking for I knew not what.

"Mike, where are we going?"

"I know where Brian lives...or at least where he used to live. I'm still having that chat."

"Mike, just...back up a bit. Presume you're right, and this isn't what I think it is. Presume there is some mistake, and the colt isn't the real Andrew McNaugton. He sure as fuck knows plenty nobody else knew about the case."

"Fine, I'm prepared to believe that so far. So what?"

"Well, then assume everything he said was true, at least about the disappearance of Andrew McNaughton. Assume he did get busted in the public toilets, was arrested, was taken back to his parents, and was kicked out. Would your friend have known about it?"

"Oh, I bet he knew about it..."

"Would there be records? Anything?"

The bull stood looking pensive, and I watched his fists curl and uncurl as he fought for space to think. Eventually he nodded.

"Fine, let's do this your way. First time for some calls."

He pulled out his phone, and I wandered away to let him talk. The sky was grey and forbidding, like a typical Melbourne winter, and I found myself remembering all the moments that led me back here and the moments from my past that came back at nights to trouble my sleep. They get in your blood like malaria, and I found to my surprise they were still there with the power to defeat even my best defences. I was shaking long before Mike returned to my side.

"Nigel..."

"Please, I'm ok."

"Nigel, I'm sorry. I was angry..."

"It's ok, really. I'm just...it's hard being back here, you know? I don't have a lot of good memories."

"How many of us do Nigel? How many of us just survived our days back then pretending to be what we weren't to survive?"

"Like Andy..."

"Yeah, but he got found out it seems. And his friend."

I looked at the bull, waiting.

"Gaius called while I was on. He found more matches, this time to a second set of prints. One Cameron Benetti, juvenile at the time. Same year of birth as Andrew McNaughton. He seems to have gone off the rails after 1982, drunk and disorderly, criminal damage. Must have been a real embarrassment to his father. The arrests stopped after 1986. I have his address from then, running a cross check now, but it was his father's address according to the probation records. Maybe it is still, I think we need to pay the Inspector a visit."

"Inspector?"

"Yeah, he retired a few years ago with the rank of inspector. A paragon of all the police virtues, still remembered fondly in the Division. Not by me...or several others. He got results, which endeared him to command."

"Anything else?"

"I got the ferret on the case; she seemed angry I hadn't earlier. Peggy. She is going to check on LEAP for arrest records for the colt from 1982, and if not there, she knows the archivist and can check the physical records from Ringwood. We will see what happened. Time to go for now."

We pulled up to a Californian bungalow in a leafy street. The front hedge was a bit out of control, and the numbers on the post box had faded almost to bare metal. It looked like the officer; damaged and holding on by a thread.

Trotting up to the door, Mike hit the buzzer. No sound came, inside or out.

"Fucking useless shit..."

He banged on the door, and eventually a lumbering set of footsteps could be heard.

"Ok, ok, keep your fucking pants on..."

The door opened to reveal the Doberman, looking like death. His eyes were even worse, he was wearing a dirty t-shirt and boxers, and his breath could make a decent flamethrower if combined with a naked flame. I recoiled a bit instinctively, but Mike just stared at him through the fly-wire door.

"Brian, we need to talk."

The dog stared back, scratching his chest, as if deciding, and finally nodded. The door unlocked with a click, and we followed him into a lounge room knee deep in beer cans, empty bottles, and discarded pizza boxes.

"Brian, how long has she been gone?"

"Six months...she walked out, saying I was too much of a loser to fix, and she never came back. Shacked up with some badger on the Gold Coast now, a banker or some shit. I got divorce papers last week."

"I'm sorry mate...really..."

The Dobie just scowled and reached for a beer can. I moved pizza boxes off a chair and sat gingerly, and Mike took an empty spot on the couch.

"I think I can guess why you are here Mike."

The bull looked at me and shrugged, then seemed to gather himself.

"Brian, I know you were full of shit. You knew more than you said. So talk."

"Mike, you have no fucking idea...no fucking idea..."

I decided it was my turn, and I was going for broke.

"Andrew McNaughton was arrested for having sex in a public place on the 11th of June 1982. He wasn't reported as missing until over a week later, as he had been phoning his mother from wherever he was, and by the time he was reported the trail had gone largely cold. And you know why."

The Doberman dropped his can of beer, staring at me, then Mike, his muzzle open and tongue slightly out.

"How...how..."

I looked at my bull, and he gave me a nod. Then he turned to the dog and landed his own blow.

"Brian, we found the arrest records..." it was a gamble, I knew.

"They were supposed to have been destroyed!"

It wasn't a fair fight really. The Doberman was drunk, lost, and frightened, and Mike was in a determined mood. But I knew it was the only way.

Mike suddenly rose off the couch and came right up to his colleague. The Doberman was crying now, spittle and snot liberally coating his chest.

"What did you do Brian..."

"Nothing! I did nothing!"

"And Benetti?"

Now he looked frightened.

"Oh God...please Mike. Please!"

"Brian, this has been eating you for thirty years. I can see it written all over you, how it's eating you like a cancer. The dog I knew is still there, still fighting to get out. Tell me mate...please..."

He sniffled, muzzle pointing to the floor, and spoke in a halting voice.

"There were reports from concerned residents...I was sent to check it out. I found the colt on his knees, sucking off another guy..."

"Yes?"

"It was...it was Benetti's son, Cam. He was a good kid, I'd met him at BBQ's around at the Sergeants place. A nice husky, cheeky but well behaved I thought. I was too shocked to think straight. Cam legged it, but I had the colt. I took him back to the station and Benetti was there."

"Go on..."

"Benetti begged me to destroy the records, told me he would fix it. He took the colt bac to his parents place, told me after it was sorted."

"Then?"

"No...no...I can't..."

"Brian, you don't have a choice."

The bull looked implacable, and the Doberman just as resolute.

"I don't give a fuck Mike."

"Fine, I'm going to see Benetti, and end this shit once and for all."

Now the dog looked terrified.

"Mike! Please!"

"Fuck you Brian...I can't help you anymore."

We trudged out of the house, and Mike slammed the door behind him. I watched his back, the way his shoulders bunched, the way his horns twitched. He was on a mission, though where it would end I had no idea.

The drive was not long, about ten minutes. I wondered if the Dobie would raise the alarm, and when we pulled up to the large brick veneer house it seemed like nobody was home. Maybe he had done a runner?

It was then we heard noise from the garage. Wandering down the road slightly, we could see the garage door, with light coming out the cracks. It was set down the hill slightly, lower than the main house and under part of it, and it appeared someone was inside. There was a door beside it, and we walked up to it and knocked.

After a little while it opened to reveal a husky with greying fur, green eyes, and a scowl.

"Yes?"

"Inspector Benetti..."

"I remember you. Renshaw? Constable...Nunawading?"

"Yes Sarge."

"Well, come in...always ready to have a beer with a fellow officer."

We shuffled into the garage and I looked around. It was arranged neatly, with a drill press, tools, equipment of all sorts and a nice looking boat. Benetti was clearly one of these guys good with his hands, and I envied him a little. I hadn't had a dad willing to teach me these things, and I always felt a little inferior for not knowing how to handle a drill or a saw.

The husky pulled up a chair next to a workbench and motioned to two more for us to sit. There was a small bar fridge next to the chair and he reached in and pulled out a couple and threw them across. Mike took his and opened it, I looked at mine like it was a grenade.

"So...who are you mate?"

He was looking at me, and his eyes were sharp. I swallowed, remembering that this was not an elderly husky but a former senior police officer used to dealing with suspects. I was being interviewed whether I knew it or not.

"I'm a friend of Mike's from Prahran."

"Ahhh land of the faggots. So what are you both out here for?"

I looked at Mike, who took a long draw on his beer then put it down and smiled.

"Andrew McNaughton."

The husky's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You know who I am talking about Sarge. And you know why. Brian spilled the beans."

The eyes narrowed to slits.

"Keep talking..."

"I know about your son. And I know about the colt."

The husky let out a long sigh and reached for a pack of cigarettes. He took his time lighting up and then sucked in a big lungfull before letting it out in a great puff of smoke.

"That fucking Dobie. Weak as piss..."

"So Jack...what are you going to do?"

"Do? What the fuck do you expect me to do..."

"Jack! Sarge!"

We turned to see a new figure in the doorway. The Dobie was there, unsteady on his hindpaws, and his eyes were wild.

The husky turned to him and snarled.

"You useless piece of shit! I covered for you for years while you fucked up the joint..."

"Jack, please, it's over cant you see it?"

"It's over when I say it is."

Suddenly the husky was very calm, and very quiet, just puffing quietly on his cigarette. He was also holding an efficient looking pistol in his right paw.

We sat or stood, a tableau of shock, while the husky eyed us all in turn.

"What a bunch of useless namby pamby pricks you all are."

"So you killed him." It was a statement full of wonder and shock from my bull. I wasn't prepared for the response though. The husky laughed.

"Me? Fuck no...I just cleaned up the trash."

I turned to the Doberman, who seemed to have turned to stone. He shook his head.

"No...not me either..."

"So who?"

The husky shook his head, and it was left to the Doberman to let it out.

"We got a call, a week after the arrest. From the colt's father..."

"Craig McNaughton?"

"Yeah, solid guy. I played football with him. The colt had come back for some reason, and Craig had lost his shit. Hit the useless fuck and he fell and smacked his head on some brickwork by the fireplace in his loungeroom. The colt was dead and he was freaking out. I went around with officer useless here and we cleaned up."

"Cleaned up?" The bull was keeping his voice neutral in the face of the pistol, but I could tell what it was costing him. His ears were flat.

"Yeah, cleaned up. Haven't you ever made problems go away mate?"

"No...no I haven't..."

"Fucking useless shits all of you. It was a bugger, but as a solution it suited me. The colt was a fuck up and deserved what he got."

I saw the nosering begin to wobble, and knew we were in for a rocky time.

"Deserved? Deserved?"

The husky was standing now, pacing a little, stabbing with his cigarette at the air and his eyes were wild.

"Yes, fucking deserved! He was a perve, a filthy fucking queer, and he was trying to corrupt my son! He got what he fucking deserved!"

"It was manslaughter!"

"It was a fucking accident!" the husky spat, face a mask of incredulity.

"It was manslaughter, pure and simple. You should have arrested the cunt!"

"Arrested him? For accidentally killing a filthy fucking queer?"

My bull was on his hooves now, facing down the husky. His eyes told me he wasn't backing down, and this was not going to end well.

"Yes! You should have fucking arrested him, for killing his own son for fuck sake! He's not a filthy fucking queer, he was a lost and frightened colt you were supposed to be protecting!"

"You have been in Prahran too long Renshaw, made you soft..."

"Maybe I'm a filthy fucking queer too. And maybe I think you are the scum of the earth Benetti..."

To distract myself from the impending disaster in front of me, I had been casting my eye over the garage, cataloguing the various things I could vaguely know but not use. Eventually my eye came to a hatch in the wall, leading further under the house. And then the penny dropped.

"Holy shit..."

I stood, walking very slowly towards the small door. I reached for the latch and gripped the steel with shaking hand.

People have bad things in places like that sometimes.

"Where are you going stag?"

"That's where you put him, didn't you?"

I turned to look at them, the husky angry, the bull shocked.

"The fuck..."

"Yeah, that's where you put him after you 'cleaned up'. You buried him under your house, with his boyfriend living above totally unaware, and nobody in his life but his murderer knowing what had become of him. And you left him there to rot."

The gun was turned on me now, and the aim was steady.

"Step back deer or I will fucking shoot you where you stand."

Unfortunately for some reason, I was steady too now. I knew I had to see this through, for him, and for me.

"Shoot me then, but you will have to shoot all of us...and there are others on the case. People know, back at A Division. You aren't getting out of this."

"Jack, he's right. Please, we have to do the right thing. It's not too late!"

The Doberman had a sudden burst of courage, and began to walk towards the husky.

"I should have done this a long time ago..."

The gun moved, swiftly and without hesitation. A shot rang out, and the Doberman went down, clutching his belly with a groan. The gun returned, and it was pointing between us, me and Mike. The husky was agitated now, but his eyes were still like steel.

"So who is next I wonder..."

"Armed police! Put down the weapon and put your arms in the air!"

The voice was loud, a scream almost in the echoing quiet of the garage after the shot. We looked, as one, to the doorway past the prone form of the groaning Doberman.

Standing in the entrance was a rabbit in full dress uniform, and she had a service revolver out, pointing at the husky.

We all waited for what seemed an eternity in a heartbeat. The gun wavered, and I saw the husky's ear twitch.

"Fucking bunnies..."

He swung towards the entrance, his pistol following. I heard shots ring out as I dived for the floor and all I could think of was a colt in my bed shaking in the pre-dawn dark.

"I'm sorry Andy..."

But no more shots came.

******

I leaned against the car and vomited profusely into the grass at my hooves. For some reason the world wouldn't stop moving, even after my stomach was empty.

Mike came over and rested a hand on my antlers and stroked them gently, nothing much, just a gesture but it meant the world to me. I looked up at him and smiled, but spoiled it a little by promptly throwing up again all over his trousers.

"Nice Nigel..."

"Sorry Mike."

"No, don't worry. Its normal, adrenaline kicks in and once the fight is over, its shock and chucking until your body gets back to normal. You will be fine just give it time."

"Will I?"

We both looked up then as two plain clothes cops walked past with Kelly. She was looking remarkably calm, but her ears betrayed her inner turmoil. She eyed us both up with mixed emotions warring across her muzzle.

"Kelly..."

My bull reached out and caught her hand, and she stopped while the other officers looked very pissed off. Mike wasn't for protocol right now though.

"Sarge?"

"Thanks Kelly...for everything."

She managed a smile then and her ears perked up a little.

"See Sarge, you can call me Kelly after all."

"Only when you do something good Constable...how did you know?"

"I got a call from Peg, and then I went to Gaius. He told me what he found, and what he told you. I knew you would hear there next, and I thought you might end up like this somehow. Always were barging in like a bull in a china shop Sarge."

Her smile was sad, but defiant. And she got a respectful nod for her troubles.

She was ushered away then, but not before a parting sally.

"Oh Sarge...try doing something this stupid again and my next shot will take out your kneecap."

"Wouldn't have it any other way Kelly."

The ambulances had gone already, taking the Doberman and the husky to hospital, thankfully in separate ambulances. I didn't want to think what might happen if they were loaded into the same one. Brian had looked in bad shape, but the husky still looked capable of murder even with two bullets in his shoulder and an armed guard.

"Mike...what happens now?"

The bull leaned on the car too and finally seemed to let the fatigue and worry have its moment. His muzzle looked pained, and his eyes scrunched tight.

"I don't know Nigel. We have something to go on with those two I guess. Brian looked ready to confess all, if he makes it. And there is some evidence and all but..."

"But?"

"I have a lot of explaining to do. About how I got the leads, how we worked it out. I still don't really know, do I. None of it makes any sense."

"It does, if you think about it but..."

"But what Nigel? Are you telling me you have been fucking a ghost these past days? Is that what happened? How precisely do you want me to explain that to internal affairs?"

"Gentlemen..."

We looked up to see a mouse clad in a white paper suit. Underneath he appeared to be dressed in an evening suit.

"Gaius?"

He managed a terse smile, and then ran a gloved hand over his ears. They flipped upwards, defying the evening and the cold.

"Gentlemen, I assumed you would want to know."

"Yes. Thanks Gaius. Well?"

"As you suspected, we found remains buried in a shallow grave under the house. Equine, probably late teens judging by the growth plates. The body is essentially completely decomposed so cause of death is hard but there is a large depressed fracture at the rear of the skull that could provide cause of death. He had a light coloured mane, some has been preserved, and I have taken all I can for DNA analysis. He was wearing jeans and some sort of synthetic material top. We found something else; I need you to see if you can identify anything."

We followed him back towards the house, past the throngs of police, under the harsh light of mobile incident vans. Back inside the garage, with its blood pools still visible from where the Doberman and the husky lay, to see the little doorway open with light streaming out. I could see another figure in a white paper inside, with a long tail curled delicately behind her. The mouse followed our gaze.

"The only good thing about this job; if I get a sudden call out, so does my wife. Avoids discomforting conversations about why I am missing our anniversary dinner."

Mike suddenly let out a half laugh half cry, and leaned on the mouse as if he might fall, a real prospect given their size disparity. I decided I needed to intervene, and pulled him against me though I was not that much bigger than the forensic scientist. It pulled Mike back into grips with himself though, and he managed to stand upright again. It moved me and surprised me; I hadn't thought he gave a fuck, but I knew it was partly my guilt showing through.

"I guess I owe you another bottle of the Hill of Grace Gaius."

The mouse smiled. "No need Michael. I really hated the restaurant we were going to anyway. Arrogant French waiters are expected in Paris. In Melbourne, it's just a caricature. Besides, she looked delicious in that cocktail dress, and I am going to enjoy seeing it under the protective suit all night. We are likely to be some time; now, before I forget. We found this."

With one gloved hand he picked up a familiar item; a small unassuming backpack, though this one was covered in dirt. Beside it were several items in plastic bags.

"Do you recognise any of this?"

I saw the jacket, worn and missing sections, the scattered fragments of paper from a porno mag long decomposed. It brought a smile to my muzzle for reasons I couldn't quite place, perhaps thoughts of wild youth full of life that tried to hold the horror at bay for a moment. Then an identifiable article, a leather wallet with faded stitching spelling out Andy. I reached for it and ran a fingertip over the stitching through the bag.

Mike's voice was husky.

"Yeah. It's his."

"Any idea where it was made?"

"I think you are standing in it. Gaius...can you please do me a favour?"

"Anything Michael, you know that."

"Take care of the colt for us. Please."

He nodded, suddenly quiet, and put a mask back over his muzzle. As he disappeared back under the house, the two of use turned and headed back into the evening and the questions we somehow knew we had to find answers for.

When we got back to my place it was almost midnight, and neither of us was speaking much. We took a shower together, each washing the other's coat until the stench of death and decay that clung to us at least metaphorically had been washed clean and we were as raw in the skin as we were in our hearts. We climbed into bed and lay there looking up at the ceiling, holding on like drowning sailors, and listened to the swish of the trees against the window and the sound of people and the passage of cars along the street as another night enfolded Inkerman Street in its bosom and concealed the lost and the weary from the gaze of the upwardly mobile.

But still sleep would not come.

I turned to face my bull, nose to nose, nudging the steel of his nosering with my snout, and then leaned in for a tentative kiss that turned deep and hungry before we were ready for it.

We rubbed together, skin on skin, chest on chest, and groin to groin. We both hardened somehow, in spite of the pain and the sorrow and the fatigue, life finding a way amidst the darkness. When he lay me down and lifted my legs over his shoulders I was crying and yet happier in some bizarre way than ever before. He was crying too, and yet we knew we needed this more than oxygen.

It was fast and hungry like the kiss. He entered me, and I forgot to demand he wear protection. Part of me no longer cared, part of me trusted him. I knew I also wanted an excuse; tonight I needed to feel, something good and wonderful and true. I needed him, the touch of his skin, and the feel of his essence inside me. After a wild few minutes with his fat length pounding away inside I got what I needed, and he let out a deep moo and collapsed in my arms with his heat spreading inside me like a balm for all wounds.

Wrapped in his arms he found my length with his fist and brought me along after, kissing all the time, the ardent fire of his muzzle drawing blood when he bit roughly into my lip. The tingle of pain somehow didn't matter, and was quickly subsumed by other feelings, powerful and pleasured, as my orgasm overtook my soul and flooded the space between out bodies and our hearts. In the lingering beat of my pulse I heart the rhythm of a benediction; 'if I bleed then I'm alive!', and saw the truth in his face, and in the mirrors of his eyes.

We fell asleep just as the rain came to wash away the grime of the day, splattering the window and driving away the birds who had just begun their morning chorus.

I woke to find an empty bed, and a divot where a bull had been. It made me smile a little sadly, remembering the colt, but the bull had better manners. At least he left a note. He had to go in to work, more interviews, more follow up, and I may be needed today. So don't go into work. As if I had any intention.

Instead I pottered around the flat until I could take it no more. Sometime around four in the afternoon, as the clouds parted to reveal a Melbourne winter day in all its benign majesty, I headed out and stopped by Woodfrog for late coffee before heading to the beach and the boardwalk and a myriad of memories while the breeze blew off the bay and chilled my antlers. I wrapped myself in a coat and fought it back the best I could.

"Thought I would find you here mate."

The voice sent my antlers buzzing. I heard him sit heavily beside me, sniffling at little in the wind, and then felt a touch on my shoulder.

"Say, you wouldn't be able to share the coffee with me would you?"

Finally I turned. There was the colt, his eyes sad, but his muzzle smiling anyway, with his forelock blowing in the wind, his mane flapping down his back, and his gaze turning expectantly to my takeaway cup. I handed it to him and turned back to the ocean while he gulped down my coffee and the tears began to flow down my cheek like the overnight rain.

"I know what you are now."

He seemed to sigh.

"Well, I wish you would explain it to me then mate, it's a fucking mystery."

"You know it too. I know you do."

The sigh was longer this time.

"I know."

I turned again, and he had his head down between his knees, huddled against the wind. I reached over and touched him, running my hands over his chest, his head, through his mane, over his thighs. He felt so real.

"Careful mate, any further into my groin there and I will need a happy ending."

"You are so solid, like real flesh."

"I am, as far as I can tell mate. We don't wear white sheets and go around walking through walls and fucking moaning 'ooooooo' like in the fucking movies."

"It's not fair. It's not fair!"

"Mate, nothing about it is fair. But it is what it is."

"Why did you come here?"

He lifted his head and looked out to sea with dark eyes. The words seemed to come with difficulty.

"I loved Cam, and I knew he loved me too, but he wasn't really ready for it. Neither of us were. We knew it was wrong, or at least it was for us, but we knew how we felt. Then his dad found a love letter I wrote for him, the stupid shit left it in his pocket, and the shit hit the fan. I was supposed to be taken out of school, sent to a boarding school in Geelong, a long way away from Cam. I wanted one last night with him, one last farewell."

"The toilets..."

"Yeah, we used to play footy on the oval there. It was one of our favourite places, where we could be us. I got him there and we kissed and I wanted something more, something to remember. He was so scared, and so needy. He tasted so beautiful too, like honey. Then the copper found us and I was fucked."

"I know. I met the cop. He is in the Monash medical centre now after a bullet to the guts. Fitting I guess."

"It wasn't his fault really. He took me in, and I was so terrified. When I saw Cam's dad, I thought he would beat the shit out of me right there. Instead he took me home for dad to do it. I ran before he could do any worse, but I knew I couldn't come back."

"So why did you?"

"I went first into town. For a kid from Ringwood, it still felt like an adventure. I ended up coming down the highway, and got on a number 8 tram. The conductor let me pass for a while, but eventually kicked me off at Fawkner Park. I spent my first night there, and had my first sex there. I was hungry and had no money, but a guy there offered me ten dollars for a blowjob. It was over quick, and I didn't feel too bad, and I got a burger and fries and felt ok. But there were too many homeless guys in that park and one of them stole my money. I ran and ended up at Alma park, where you found me on Sunday, then a guy there told me about Inkerman Street."

"It must have been a dump back then."

He snorted and gave me a look.

"See, that's what all you white shoe types think. Yeah it was full of deros and pros and shit, but it was also home you know? It worked, in its own way, and it looked after guys like me. It doesn't do that anymore. Nowhere does. You see them all the time now, like open wounds on the city, because all the old places are gone, developed into oblivion so some shit like you can make another million."

"We aren't all like that..."

"Your David was. It was there that I found him; for those first few days, I learned how to live on the streets with the only skills I had. And he was one of my first clients, and the first guy to fuck my ass."

I looked at him now, suddenly understanding. I wrapped my arms around the shaking colt, and pressed my nose to his cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, its ok mate. He was gentle, you know? We did it in the back of his car, a big Merc, and he was gentle. He even brought me off. He was kind."

"You were lucky colt. He wasn't as gentle with me my first time."

"Well, thats probably because you like it a bit rough stag. I found that out myself."

I chuckled against him, our shared laughter washing away some of the pain for a moment. He rubbed my antlers and I nuzzled against him.

"So why did you go back?"

"I rang mum, every day. I knew she would be worried sick, even though she didn't have the balls to tell dad to back off. So I rang her and told her I was ok, living with mates I couldn't tell her who though. I think she even believed me. But I was so cold at night, you know? And I knew I couldn't keep it up. I had this dream you see, I would get enough to buy two tickets to Sydney by train, and me and Cam would leg it. I had the money, thanks to your David, but I wanted my backpack, with my jacket and my wallet. It was special you see."

"Ahhh..."

"I went home one night, close to dawn. I got the backpack, nobody the wiser. But when I came downstairs again, dad was there. He had been drinking, and he blew up. I felt the blow, then I fell, and then I knew no more until I found myself walking in like a fog that never ended. And I knew what had happened, but it seemed I was lost forever."

"So how did you get here?"

"I still don't understand it. I knew sometimes, if you had unfinished business, you could come until it was done. That was the rumour. And I found your David again, and he knew who I was. He was as lost as me, and he wanted to come, but he knew he couldn't. So he made me a deal. If I got to come back, I had to do him a favour, and see you. And in exchange I could have his watch."

That made me laugh, shaking my head in wonder.

"He said I could have the watch...I didn't realise which 'he' you were talking about."

"Yeah, pity he couldn't have told the cops off. So I had to leave it. But yeah, he thought if I took it it might break you out of it. He saw you wasting away over the years and it did his head in."

"So what were you supposed to do?"

"I had to make you remember what it was like to feel alive again. I guess I managed it, but falling for me wasn't part of the plan. I screwed that bit up, but its not my fault. You were an awfully easy lay mate..."

"Granted. And I suppose it worked...I do feel it again..."

He looked wistfully at me and nodded.

"Yeah I can see it. Mate, there is time enough to feel dead when you are like me. David will still be waiting. Trust me, this is better. I know it."

He was crying too now, and I had no words for him, all I could do was hold him tight and listen to the ocean. Eventually I had to ask though.

"So what is next?"

"Well, the main reason I had to come is done now."

"We found your body Andy, you can rest easy now. And the guys who were involved will be brought to justice."

He smiled at me weakly, and patted my antlers.

"That wasn't the reason mate."

"Then why...?"

"Cam. I watched him, like David watched you, and I watched him die a little bit each day. I couldn't bear it any more mate, and somehow I managed to win the right to come back. But not for justice, for him. I wanted him to know I didn't leave him, that I loved him right to the end, and it wasn't his fault. That's why I came, you were just a side project of your wolf's. But when I got here, I found drawn to you more and more, and found it harder and harder to do what I was supposed to. Took you and your bull to get the job done."

"What do you mean?"

"Your bull did it for me, just this afternoon. He did a good job too, the cunt. Because now it's time."

"I don't understand.' I thought I did though, and I didn't like the answer.

"It's time to go Nige. I am not allowed to stick around. I have to leave."

"No!" I wrapped my arms around him, crying like an infant, and he stroked my antlers as if I was the one in peril.

"I know mate, and believe me I'm shat off, but it's the rules. I have to go."

"You can't! I need to ask you so much more!"

"Then ask."

But with the moment here, I found I couldn't. Instead I huddled in the colt's arms as we looked over the waves and followed the gulls as they searched for dinner. The lights started to come into force, on boats and jetty's and on the boardwalk, and a few hardy souls walked along as if the world weren't a fucked up place full of hurt. I hated them a little in that moment.

"What do you want me to tell him?"

Through tears I managed it, just.

"Tell him I love him."

"He knows."

"Tell him I miss him."

"He knows that too."

"Tell him...tell him I'll be ok."

And I found to my shock I believed it.

He gripped my antler tip and squeezed.

"Will I see you ever again?"

He let out a whinny.

"Yes mate, one day. But don't hurry ok? I don't want to see you for a long time, you and beefy have some living to do. Promise?"

"I promise."

"I left something for you, from David. You will see, around August. Hope you like it mate."

I huddled into my coat a bit, and reached for him again to say thank you, to find an absence more profound than the divot in my bed in the morning. There was nothing, and nobody, except a discarded cup and a watch, shimmering under the lamplight as night came to the city.

"Hey..."

Looking up suddenly I saw my bull. He was looking sombre, and a little uncertain, which was probably not helped when I sprang to my hooves and burst into tears in his arms.

"Hey..."

We sat in the same spot as I had with the colt, watching night over the bay. The Spirit of Tasmania was lit up like a Christmas tree, getting ready for its crossing to Devonport, and container ships and smaller boats cruised across the water. The lights looked like jewels on the ocean, and I almost thought I could reach out for them, but knew I could not.

"So...I saw some folks today."

"Yeah..."

"I saw the colt's boyfriend, Cameron Benetti. He was kind of a mess."

I smiled at him, confusing the bull, but I didn't care.

"Yeah, I know Mike. He is better for knowing though."

"Ahhh maybe. I couldn't give him back the wallet, it's still evidence, but he will get it eventually. Only thing he has left but it's something."

"It's all he needed. That and knowing."

"I saw the colt's parents too. The mother is a mess, the father has Alzheimers. He barely knew what day it was."

"How was the mother?"

"How do you think? How do you tell someone their partner killed their son thirty years ago and never told her? That she could have prevented it maybe, but she didn't?"

"I don't know. I only know you could do better than me."

"I suck at it. At least seeing the two assholes charged was worth it. Bedside hearings, accessory after the fact and attempting to pervert the course of justice, plus attempted murder for Benetti. Don't know how we make it stick, but I will enjoy trying."

"What about you Mike?"

He sat down next to me and let out a moo staring out at the Spirit moored to our left.

"I don't know Nigel. I think my career is fucked, but I don't care too much. Ive been passed over for promotion so many times I think Ive given up. What about you?"

"Same. I really am not much good at property development, David was the brains. Work has been trying to shitcan me for ages, and I think I gave them enough ammunition with all this."

"You know stag...I've got some land in Tasmania, bought it for nothing years ago. It's worth a bit now, and we could have a farm and raise all sorts of stuff there. If you were willing to give me...I mean it, a go?"

I kissed his cheek, looking at the boat too. A ghost of a smile covered my muzzle.

"Do you think we could have horses?"

That got a snort from the bull, and a slap on my ass. Still, he seemed to soften.

"Yeah, maybe. Tell me...where is horsefeatures?"

"He had to go."

"Go as in...?"

He looked at me, asking with his eyes. My tears told him what he had to know. He pulled me into his arms then and we kissed, under the twinkling lights with the stars above us to mark the occasion. And perhaps one colt and one wolf, who hopefully would approve.

"Sounds like it could be good Mike. Where do I sign?"

****

Epilogue.

Winter headed for spring, and the sale of my townhouse passed without incident. It was part of the gift David had left me, and it netted more than enough to do what we intended alongside Mike's savings.

The case had entered the news with a splash, formenting comment, controversy and froth and bubble from the twitterati. It was as well that they knew less than half the truth, for what the great unwashed would have made of it didn't bear thinking about.

It ignited a debate about gay youth, and the consensus seemed to be that things were so much better now in this new enlightened age. I knew it was not so clear cut, but I could not be bothered to fight the fight. It was too much to just live myself, and get through the hundred and one little disappointments of living the reality of being gay. As I said to Mike that night, we were still the problem, even in death.

It was felt that the two cops would receive a long sentence, and this would somehow make up for how much society had failed the Andy's of this world. And the Cameron's.

I saw him at the funeral, when they finally laid the colt to rest. He was seen off by a pair of mice dressed as elegantly as they had for dinner on a cold Tuesday night, a ferret and a rabbit holding hands, an ewe who cried a decades worth of tears, a bull and a stag, and a smattering of those who knew him in a better life. He went to his delayed grave with the wallet on his chest, but the final talisman had a reprieve when the husky wanted to keep it, and read the words his love had written in his youth. He also went with an expensive old watch in his coffin. I felt I owed the debt my wolf had taken on, and somehow I knew he was right. Letting go of that watch was the step I needed to let go of him. The husky was a broken man, but somehow he was healing too. I saw that when he embraced Andy's mother, the two locked in the same emotion thirty-two years late.

Mike had taken up residence with me, and together we prepared for our new life down South. In truth I would not miss this place much. The colt was right, the street had changed into something I no longer recognised, even though I had had a hand in making it like this. The shining facades and the forest of hipsters felt like so many other places in the city, it could be a street in any one of a dozen suburbs. Few of those who cruised down the pavement on a Sunday afternoon looking for brunch and a place to be seen would know what had happened here, back in a time when life was both harder and more true.

Walking with my bull after the auction, we stumbled into Alma park, and I saw a small crowd gathered around a garden bed arguing. It looked intriguing, and we were drawn to it like moths to a candle. An earnest tigress was engaged in heated conversation with a council worker, and the crowd was enjoying the show.

"Whats going on here mate?"

My bull sill felt like a policeman, and he had the instincts of one. He wanted to calm the scene, and get everyone about their business. The harassed Otter with the shovel read the signs and was suddenly at ease.

"Look mate, its just my job see..."

"What is?"

"I have to prepare that garden bed, and that isn't supposed to be there!"

I looked at where he was pointing, and my breath caught in my throat. There in a large circular garden bed a whole lot of daffodils had sprung from the earth, forming a perfect heart shape in yellow and white and green. The crowd seemed to think it belonged there.

"I know what they are saying, but we didn't plant it. It's supposed to be covered in clivias now, and I'm supposed to do it. They wont let me!"

"How odd..."

Mike pondered this miracle, but I knew what it was, and I couldn't help laughing as I wrapped him in my arms and thought of a mischievous colt who terrorised his teachers and got detention working in the school gardens as his punishment. He was pretty good too, it seemed, and his timing was impeccable.

"Mike...I think I know who did this."

He stiffened, and looked at me incredulous at first then with a dawning smile.

"We cant let them dig it up then."

I looked back at the garden and shrugged.

"They are daffodils Mike. They will flower like this for a brief while then die off. They won't last much longer anyway."

"Still..."

I pulled him against me and kissed his neck.

"We've seen it. That's the most important. Besides, didn't you tell me that was how we were too. We were made stronger, so we would always survive and bounce back anyway. And beauty and love finds a way, even the council can't destroy that. We remember it."

We walked back arm in arm along Inkerman street, past the townhouses and the few remaining old terraces, past the homeless and the hipsters and the druggies and the bankers and ignored them all, each holding a daffodil salvaged from the garden bed. And if a wolf and a colt were looking down on us, I hoped they didn't mind waiting a little longer. I had unfinished business too, and I didn't like to be rushed.