Dead Set. || PURPLEPHONE

A Toast.

Scott reached out, the fabric of Vincent's tie running through his fingers as he finished straightening it. His hands fell to his sides and he looked down at his polished black shoes. 

He hadn't spoken much today. Today was five days since Boss's death. Today was Boss's funeral. The silence was awkward, but he couldn't think of any words to fill it.

"Hey," Vincent leaned forward, grabbing Scott's hands and lifting them back up, his thumbs running over the back of his palm. "It'll be okay, Scott."

Scott looked up and met his boyfriend's eyes, "No, Vincent. It won't."

.

Since what had been left of William had been in no state to be respectfully buried, Scott - along with his family, and Boss's friends (Boss had no extended family) - had made the hard decision that it was best to cremate him. They were going to have a memorial more than a traditional funeral - the difference was that the ceremony would be held after cremation. That, too, had been a very hard decision to make, but the parties involved had decided that Boss wouldn't have wanted his mangled remains to be sweltering in a casket like roadkill. It was much neater to have it done, and the quicker, the better. 

The urn was going to be on display during the ceremony. There would be speeches and prayers, and then you would be given time to pay your final respects. Then the ashes were going to be spread into a coffin, which would be buried under a headstone as if his body was still intact. 

"Honey..." Vincent said quietly, "I know today is... difficult. Please, though, you look like death warmed over. You haven't been sleeping well, you've been so busy preparing your speech, and your nails are bitten down to the wick. If you feel like you can't handle this..."

"I'm fine," Scott whispered, as they walked through the graveyard. Scott didn't quite remember how they got here. He supposed Vincent drove. Today was all kind of a melded blur. "Thank you, Vincent, but if Boss were here-"

"-He'd tell you not to worry at his expense," Vincent cut in. "Especially not with this concussion you've been battling. Don't think I've forgotten about that. You were supposed to be resting up, sweetheart." 

Scott scoffed, but didn't reply. He crossed his arms over his chest as they reached the ceremony. Some heads turned as they walked over. Scott spotted his family. "Come on," he muttered at Vincent, and started off towards them.

Linda was in a long, simple black dress, one that was matching to Robin's (albeit in a smaller size). For the first time since they were teenagers, Scott noticed that she wasn't wearing any make-up at all. She looked up and saw him. 

Scott didn't know what to say. Were there any words for this kind of gathering? He just nodded his head slightly, and after a moment's hesitation, stepped forward to wrap his arms around her in a hug. 

He didn't move for a long time, just stayed in Linda's embrace for as long as possible. It wasn't even a comforting hug. More like a combined grieving. He closed his eyes and nestled into her shoulder, because only one person on the entire planet knew exactly how he felt about the loss of William David Lewis, and he needed her more than ever, now. 

Linda finally broke away with a small sob, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. Scott noticed that her fingernails, too, were chewed. It had always been a shared habit of the two. 

"Hey, Scott... how you doing?"

Scott looked up, only now noticing that Mike had been standing with Linda. For only half a second, he felt a tinge of annoyance. This was supposed to be a family thing. But then he remembered that Vincent had come to support him, and so it was only fair that Mike should have the right to be with Scott's family, too. 

"Hey, Mike..." Scott's voice was kind of hoarse. "I'm coping. How about you?"

"Yeah, well... I'm alright. Um... Anyway. I just want... I mean, I... I'm sorry I blew up at you the other day, Scott..." Mike played with his tie nervously, "I've never been good with words. Guess that comes with being a dumb dyslexic. I was just... worried. I know I'm a bit of an asshole, but I do look up to you, Scott, and to think that you might... blame yourself too much and... do something that might make us lose you, too... I just..."

"Mike..." Scott frowned in concern, stepping forwards and encompassing him in a massive hug. "It's okay. You were just trying to look out for me, and your anger got ahead of you. That's okay." He was silent for a while, and then smiled, "And, for the record? You are the smartest, wittiest and coolest dyslexic person I know. My sister is lucky to have a guy like you. I hope she never gives you up."

Mike stiffened against Scott's body, "You really-?" his voice broke, and he pushed Scott away, "Geezus, Adams, you half-assed softie..." He wiped at his eyes, "Fillin' me up with bitchy nonsense like that..."

Scott's smile widened, "You're welcome, Mike." One thing you learned with being around Mike since he was eighteen was that he used swearing to cover up the fact that he was entirely overwhelmed and flustered. 

"Hey, guys," Andrew appeared behind Mike. His expression was solemn, his face unshaven and sallow. Scott hadn't seen him since he got the news of William's death, but he instantly knew that his father had not been coping well at all. "The ceremony's about to begin."

The smile slipped off of Scott's face once more, replaced by that feeling of hollowness. "Oh, right..." he nodded. "Okay. Thanks... Dad."

Andrew just nodded, and looked around at the family (and their extended guests, Vincent and Mike). "Well," he said cautiously, "Let's go find our seats."