His face remained sullen, he felt devoid of any emotion, devoid of anything at all really. Xavier remembered the expression his father had once said. That you can sometimes cry so much that you run out of tears. It was like that for him now, except that rather than tears, he had felt so much emotion that he was empty. It wasn’t so bad, Xavier thought, if he focused on something else, then maybe he would stop thinking about the real issue at hand.
He stared at the beige wall in front of him. It didn’t look any different from any of the other hotels he stayed at. A small, twin bed in the corner, a nightstand with a dull-lighted lamp, a dresser across the room with a television on top, and a small bathroom next to the front door. He hadn’t gone back to the house in weeks, he was too much of a coward, he felt. He didn’t want to have to clean up the mess he made.
After the funeral, he had gone home and smashed all the pictures, and then he smashed the dishes, then the glasses, then the pots that held all of the now-dead plants, and he flipped the kitchen table. He threw the ring he had bought in the fire. The apartment looked much better in a disarray rather than normal, Xavier had thought. It was unfair of the house to stay normal, to look exactly the same as he had left it, when they were gone.
He set his mind to think of only certain things. Waking up, going to his work at the pharmacy, going home, drinking himself into a stupor until he passed out, repeat. He ignored all of his friends and family, he couldn’t bear their pitying looks, the comforting hands on his shoulders and pats on the back. He didn’t want their pity, he just wanted them to be as angry as he was.
It wasn’t fair that Abraxas was only 26 when they died. And nothing had righted itself for them either. He and Abraxas had only been together for a year, and Abraxas had barely saved enough money to leave their family and join him in buying the small apartment in Queens. Abraxas was non-binary, something their family couldn’t accept nor understand. Their family couldn’t comprehend how their once son now claimed to not have a gender at all. Xavier thought Abraxas’ parents and siblings were too dramatic over it. So what if they didn’t have a gender? It doesn’t define them, it’s just who they were. Abraxas was just Abraxas, not a boy, not a girl, and their family didn’t like them for it.
Abraxas’ brother, Gideon, was the worst, they would come back from visits to Gideon covered in bruises and cuts dotted along his torso and arms. When he asked what happened, Abraxas would brush it off.’
“Just a play fight with Gid’, don’t worry about it” they would say, they would then tuck a curl behind his ear and run their thumb over his temple, soothing away his worry lines until he relaxed. Xavier and Abraxas would then settle down and watch Criminal Minds on some illegal site till they fell asleep like that, cuddled together with his head on their shoulder.
They didn’t get the chance to live the life they wanted, either. Abraxas didn’t have the money for medical school, and Xavier was barely making enough money as a cashier in the pharmacy down the street. Abraxas had worked as a security guard in the local mall, and their late-shifts made him come home around 4 am. They had joked that they were training for the late-shifts they would have to deal with at the hospital. And Xavier’s heart clenched painfully at the thought that Abraxas would never come home, ever.
It was a month after their death that he snapped. He slammed the empty bottle down on the nightstand in his room and yelled in frustration. Not even bothering with a jacket, he raced over across the town to Gideon’s house and pounded on the door.
“What do you want, fag-” He pulled back his fist and hit Gideon in the face with all of the strength he could muster. Gideon stumbled back and Xavier followed him through the door. He towered over him and kicked Gideon in the stomach before he leaned down to speak.
“I want them back. But I can’t have that, you took them from me” Xavier said calmly, his voice low and monotonous.  He hit Gideon again and again, anger coursing through his veins as he felt nothing but hatred for the monster in front of him.
Because it was Gideon who pushed Abraxas too hard. It was Gideon who yelled at and beat them every time they attempted be kind. It was Gideon who screamed words that detailed lies of their worth and repugnancy. And it was Gideon who coaxed Abraxas to turn the gun on himself.
Of course the police didn’t listen to reason. Who would they trust? The barely-educated cashier or the well-respected lawyer with several degrees? They chose the latter, and Gideon had walked away without a taint to his name.
Gideon struggled under his grasp and managed to free himself before rushing to the set of drawers at the other side of the room. He pulled a gun out of the second drawer quickly and pointed it at Xavier. Xavier had crumpled to the floor and was sobbing, he looked up at Gideon and glared at him through the tears.
“Do it,” He mumbled weakly. He smiled softly as he heard Gideon load the gun, and his last coherent thoughts were that he was finally joining Abraxas.