


Fractions of Forever

by EdenMalfoy17



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-10-08
Updated: 2007-11-14
Packaged: 2013-10-23 11:39:20
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,825
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3188650/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/999821/EdenMalfoy17
Summary: BrianJustin A series of one shots that rewrite key moments of Brian and Justins relationship. Also fills in a few blanks along the way. Reviews are craved like chocolate :





	1. Memories

Warnings: None...some language perhaps, but that's our boys.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, the pretty, pretty boys belong to CowLip and nothing belongs to me, don't sue!

AN: I enjoy reviews, but only leave one if you feel compelled to, I don't beg for them. This is the first in a string of one shots I'm writing to kind of rewrite some things from their past before I go into a novel length fic based off these one shots. They can be read as a story within themselves or individually as one-shots but all are from the same slightly AU Queer as Folk universe.

I have to get him to fucking remember? All I want to do is forget that that night ever happen and move on. Now I have to get him to remember the details so he can get over it…

Fuck. When did I start caring what the fuck happens to anyone? It was so much easier, so much better when I didn't give a fuck about anyone or anything other than myself.

_So much lonelier_, another part of Brian's brain reminded him.

Brian sighed and shook his head. He had just come from the psychiatrist's office; Justin's psychiatrist to be exact. When he had agreed to take Justin back into his home he hadn't had any idea how the teen was actually doing mentally. Sure, he had seen the boy freak out at Woody's but that really hadn't given him a fair assessment of the kids' current mental state.

Brian had spent so many days and nights worrying about Justin recovering physically from the bashing that he hadn't really thought about how the boy was doing mentally.

During those first few days Brian figured that as long as Justin opened those gorgeous blue eyes again everything would go back to the way it once was. Brian was wrong.

After being with him for only two days he began to realize what Jennifer's pleas for him to 'touch' her son actually meant.

She wanted him, Brian, to go into Justin's mind and fix him for her. Fuck her. Justin was her kid and she hadn't even wanted said kid around him a week ago. Then when things got a little too rough, a little too real, for her what does she do? Come and plead with 'Big Bad Brian' to take Justin. To fix what she couldn't.

In all fairness Brian didn't really think that Jennifer could fix Justin, at this point he wasn't sure that anyone could, but he realized that Jennifer just wasn't what the teen needed right now.

That afternoon Brian called Daphne to come over and bring a CD containing Save the Last Dance for Me.

By the time Daphne showed up Justin was sitting in the middle of the dining area on the couch looking at Brian like he had lost his mind. Brian had moved all the furniture out of the living room and cleared a big empty space.

"What are we doing again?" Justin asked Brian as the older man walked across the loft to answer the door.

"We're helping you remember. You have to remember so we can put all this behind us once and for all," Brian said reiterating the therapists' words matter of factly.

"Hello Daphne," Brian said stepping aside to let the girl enter the loft.

"Hey Brian," she said then glanced around him to Justin.

"Hey Justin, how's it going?" she asked.

Justin looked at her, nodded and smiled slightly by way of greeting.

"Ok," Brian said, "Let's get started, you bring the CD?" he asked Daphne.

"Right here," she said holding it up.

Brian took the CD and put it in the tray of his stereo. He pushed play and turned to Daphne as some techno beat started pumping out of the speakers. Brian encouraged Justin to come stand in the middle of the room with himself and Daphne.

"Ok," Daphne said turning to Justin, "We were at the prom and you and I were dancing. I'm pretty sure this is the song that was playing. People around us sort of quit dancing and had turned to look at something near the doorway so I thought there was a fight or something but then I saw Brian. He walked over to us, never taking his eyes off of you."

"And I said 'Hello Daphne, you look hot tonight, I'd fuck you'," Brian said leaning over to kiss Daphne on the temple like he had that night.

"And I said, 'You too Brian'. Then you said something about not being caught dead in a room of 18 year olds," Daphne said shaking her head slightly. Obviously she hadn't really understood what Brian had been talking about.

"He said 'I thought you wouldn't be caught dead in a room full of 18 year olds' and I said 'I'm just trying to recapture my lost youth'," Brian said the words slowly as he looked into Justin's eyes, studying them for any flicker of recognition at the words. Justin just gazed back at him somewhat blankly.

"It was hot," Daphne interjected with a smile.

Brian smiled at her.

"Then I said 'Mind if I borrow your date?' to Daphne," Brian said.

"So I left you two alone and the music changed, God it was perfect," Daphne said with a goofy grin.

"Brian led you to the middle of the dance floor, this came on and you started dancing," Daphne said as she flipped the song to 'Save the Last Dance for Me'.

The song began to play; Brian gathered Justin in his arms and began to move them to the music. They didn't dance nearly as gracefully as they had on prom night but Brian hoped it was good enough to help Justin remember something.

"Close your eyes, it might help you to remember," Brian instructed.

Justin complied and they danced for most of the song before Brian stopped them. "Anything?" he asked.

Justin looked up at him and shook his head. He hated disappointing Brian and he really wanted to remember but he just couldn't seem to remember a thing from that night.

"Hey, it's ok, we'll find a way," Brian said giving Justin a squeeze.

Justin allowed himself to lean into Brian for comfort for a minute before his hand began to shake violently.

Justin pulled away from Brian and shook his hand.

"Fuck! Fuck," he yelled shaking his hand and then stuffing it in his pocket in an attempt to stop or hide the tremors. Brian wasn't sure which. Justin began to angrily pace back and forth for a moment before stomping up the stairs to the bedroom.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Daphne looked torn between wanting to rush to her best friend's side and being afraid to.

"I'm gonna shower," Justin said a moment later solving Daphne's apparent dilemma for her.

"Ok," Brian replied.

"See you later Daph," Justin called over his shoulder.

"See you," Daphne said in a sad voice.

When he heard the water in the shower start up Brian plopped down on the couch and let out a long sigh.

"How are you doing?" Daphne asked moving to sit beside Brian. She had a feeling that all this was hurting Brian almost as much as it was hurting Justin and it seemed to her that everyone was simply overlooking Brian's pain.

"Been better," Brian said leaning his head back to gaze up at the rafters.

"It's really amazing that you're doing all this for him," Daphne said.

"Yeah well, someone had to fix him and Jennifer sure as fuck wasn't interested in doing it," Brian said a bit bitterly.

"I hope you can help him," Daphne said shooting a worried glance toward the bathroom.

"Me too," Brian admitted with a sigh.

Later that afternoon Brian drove them to the parking garage where the bashing had taken place. Just seeing the place again brought violent memories to the forefront of Brian's mind and he felt bile rising up in his throat.

Fighting the memories down and trying his damnedest to keep his emotions in check Brian pulled the jeep into a parking spot near where the bashing had taken place and the two got out.

Justin began to wander a few feet from Brian, he was concentrating hard and trying to remember something but nothing was coming. He was getting frustrated with himself and the whole situation and was about to say fuck it and suggest that they head home when he heard Brian's voice floating across the garage to him.

"We were walking out, singing and laughing together, sort of dancing. You were…happy, happier than I can ever really remember seeing you, outside of bed that is," Brian said with a smirk attempting to inject a bit of humor into the otherwise humorless situation.

"We walked to the jeep and kissed, I said something about giving them a prom to remember and you said," Brian's voice broke and he stopped for a moment. "You said that it was the best night of your life."

Justin grinned a little, he was sure that having Brian show up at his prom had been the best moment of his life and he considered it as such, even if he couldn't remember it.

Brian took a deep shuddering breath, "We kissed again and said 'Later' and you turned and started walking away from me, still humming that damned song. You had the scarf around your neck and you were holding on to both ends swinging it out to your sides as you walked. I started to get into the jeep and you turned back and smiled at me," Brian half smiled at the memory.

"Then I knew why Deb calls you Sunshine," Brian said and had to stop for a moment before emotions overcame him completely.

Justin felt his heart clench at the implication but said nothing. He was trying to focus on Brian's words and paint a clear picture in his head of what happen that night. So far it was still like a story that had happened to someone else. Justin put his thumb up to his mouth and began to chew the nail while waiting for Brian to continue.

The bashing must have happen next Justin realized. For a moment he considered going to Brian to offer some comfort to him but in the end decided that that was probably a bad idea so he waited it out.

When Brian began to speak again his voice sounded shaky. "I got in the jeep and when I looked in the mirror to watch you walk to the elevator he was there. I saw the bat but I was too far away there was nothing I could do," Brian flinched and as the memory washed over him full force he fought back a wave of nausea.

Justin sighed. "I just wish I could remember."

"I just wish I could forget," Brian countered and got back in the jeep.

Later that night after Justin had gone to bed Brian sat on the couch nursing a shot of Beam and considering going out. Of course he knew that he wouldn't. Babylon was really no fun without Justin.

Suddenly he was struck with an idea. Brian got up off the couch and headed over to the counter where Justin always piled his 'pocket stuff'; wallet, keys, loose change and cell phone. Brian picked up the cell phone and flipped quickly through the numbers stored in its memory. He found the one he wanted and dialed, silently hoping it wasn't too late to be calling.

A moment later a concerned voice came on the other end of the line.

"Daphne, its Brian, listen does your school have a videographer?" Brian asked.

Two days later Justin was sitting on the couch when Brian came in with a video tape.

"Hey," Brian said.

"Hey," Justin replied with a smile.

"I have something that might help you," Brian said.

Justin got up off the couch and walked over to Brian to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I bet you do," Justin said.

"To help you remember," Brian said.

"I'm never going to remember, Brian, you should just give up. I've tried so hard to remember and I just can't," Justin said walking back to the couch and sitting down with a sigh.

"I know you have and it's not your fault, you just haven't had the right trigger yet and I'm not going to stop until I figure out what the right trigger is," Brian said waving the tape in front of Justin's face.

"Ok, what's that?" Justin asked, his curiosity finally getting the best of him.

"It's a tape from your prom. I asked Daphne if your school had a videographer and she said that it doesn't but she was sure someone had been taping different shit so she asked around and voila, a tape of us dancing," Brian said indicating the tape in his hand.

Justin's face lit up.

"Seriously? Put it in, I wanna watch it," Justin said grinning.

"I didn't know how you'd feel about it," Brian said uncertainly.

"What do you mean? I've been hearing about hot it was since I woke up, I'm dying to see it," Justin said grinning.

Brian shrugged and popped the tape in the VCR. He hit play before taking a seat on the couch beside Justin.

After a moment the blue screen gave way to someone jiggling a camera around and laughing.

"Oh my God," they heard a girl's voice say.

"What?" the guy with the camera asked.

"Give me that," the girl said.

The camera was jostled around for a moment before focusing and zooming in on Brian.

"Who the hell is that?" the guy who had previously had the camera asked the girl.

"My dream man," she replied in a dreamy voice.

Justin giggled, "Mine too."

Brian rolled his eyes.

"I thought I was your dream man," the guy said.

"Oh you are baby," the girl said in a slightly patronizing voice.

Another girl's voice piped up, "Who _is_ that? Anyone know what he's doing here?"

There were indistinguishable murmurs around the table and Brian began to make his way across the room.

The camera followed him and stopped when he stopped in front of Justin.

"What's he doing with Taylor?" a guy asked.

No one really responded and there were some more murmurs.

The music changed abruptly and the crowd shifted momentarily cutting the camera's view of Brian and Justin. The girl with the camera stood up and zoomed in to get them back into focus.

Justin watched completely transfixed as he and Brian began dancing on the screen.

"This is fucking hot," the girl with the camera said and zoomed in a bit more.

"Uh-huh," the other girl replied.

Justin watched as Brian led him around the dance floor spinning him and laughing with him. Then he saw himself take control of the dance; pulling off Brian's jacket and flipping the silk scarf around Brian's neck.

"You let me manhandle you like that in public?" Justin asked never taking his eyes off the screen.

"Well, it was your prom after all," Brian said with a smile.

Just before the dance ended Brian lifted Justin up and spun him around kissing him soundly and thoroughly.

"Holy fuck, Brian, you really kissed me in front of everyone?" Justin said with a huge grin on his face.

The screen went blank after Brian and Justin left the dance floor.

"Well?" Brian asked.

"Don't remember a thing," Justin said airily with a grin.

Brian sighed and Justin got up and walked over to the TV.

"What're you doing?" Brian asked.

"Rewinding this so I can watch it over and over and over, I think this may become my new favorite movie," Justin said with a cheeky grin.

"Glad you like it," Brian said with a slight smile as he got up off the couch and went to the drink cart to pour himself a shot.

"Like it? Brian, that's the most incredible thing anyone's ever done for me," Justin said with a grin as the VCR stopped rewinding and he pushed play.

Brian walked back over to the living room area where Justin was still standing and said quietly into his ear, "Even if it was ridiculously romantic."

A flash of dancing with Brian went through Justins head and hit his mind with an almost tangible force.

"Wh-what did you say?" Justin asked suddenly feeling off balance.

Brian caught the look on Justin's face and wondered if his words had triggered a brief memory.

"I said that it had to be the best night of your life, even if it was-"

"Ridiculously romantic," Justin said in a whisper.

Everything came flooding back to him at once and he staggered.

"Justin!" Brian shouted catching him before he fell into the coffee table.

Justin didn't hear Brian's shouts; he just saw the prom, and the parking garage, running out to the jeep with Brian, his laughter and the smile on Brian's face as he said 'later'. Then he heard Brian's horrified shout and there was nothing after that.

"Justin, Justin damn it wake up," Brian was saying to him.

Justin opened his eyes and realized he was lying on the couch and that Brian was kneeling down next to him.

"What happen?" Justin mumbled.

Brian let out a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"You tell me," he said. "Did you remember something?"

"I remembered…everything. At least I think I did," Justin said a bit uncertainly.

Brian closed his eyes and hugged the blonde to his chest.

"Are you ok?" Brian asked.

"I-I think so, my head hurts," Justin said.

Brian hurried over to the kitchen and got Justin a pain pill and a glass of water. Brian hated that Justin still had to take pain medication for his head.

"Here, take this," Brian said delivering the pill and water to Justin.

"If I had known you were going to pass out-"

"No, I'm glad I remember," Justin said.

"I was going to say that I would've made sure you were sitting down. You nearly broke my coffee table," Brian said with a smirk.

Justin rolled his eyes, "I'm so sorry."

"So what do you remember?" Brian asked slipping an arm around Justin and allowing the blonde to cuddle into his side.

"I remember dancing with you and feeling happier than I've ever felt before," Justin said.

"About the attack," Brian said.

"Not much, but then I was pretty much unconscious. You called my name, you tried to warn me," Justin said.

"Yeah," Brian said.

"Tell me what else happen," Justin asked.

Brian got up and started pacing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Do we have to do this?" Brian asked.

"No, I guess if you don't want to. I mean we could do it later," Justin said a bit uncertainly.

"No, we'll do it now," Brian said. He stood and began to pace.

"I saw him in the mirror and that's when I got out and called your name. I tried to warn you, I tried to- but there was nothing I could do…after he-" Brian cleared his throat. "After he hit you-"

Brian paced over to the other side of the room putting his back to Justin. Justin could tell that Brian was struggling to tell him what had happened in the minutes after he was hit and he was about to tell the older man that it was ok, that he didn't have to finish when Brian's voice piped up again sounding a bit stronger if a little detached.

"I, um, I ran over and I pushed him to keep him from hitting you again. He dropped the bat and I picked it up. I hit him in the knees with it then dropped it and knelt down beside you. There was so much blood…and for a minute I-I couldn't do anything. I just knelt there on the ground next to you trying to…fuck; I don't know what I was trying to do. Maybe I was in shock, I don't know. I finally realized that I had a cell phone and so I called 911," Brian concluded.

"Why didn't you come see me?" Justin asked.

Brian took a deep breath and turned back to face the blonde. Justin saw tears in Brian's eyes threatening to spill over.

"I did," Brian said his voice barely a whisper.

"What?" Justin asked his voice coming out equally as soft.

"I said I did," Brian said a bit louder.

"But everyone said-"

"No one else knew, I didn't tell anyone. Every night I went out to Babylon and then came by the hospital. I had to come see you, make sure you were ok, before I could sleep at night. I'd talk to Judy, the night nurse, and ask her how you were doing; she'd give me a cup of coffee and sometimes make me eat some soup. She said I wasn't eating enough," Brian said with a laugh.

"The first three days, before they knew if you were going to-" Brian's voice did break then and he turned away from Justin.

Justin felt a lump rising in his throat. He really does care Justin realized.

Justin got up off the couch and hurried over to Brian. He put a hand on the older mans arm. At first Brian pulled away from him but after a second he relaxed into the touch and Justin urged him to turn around.

Brian turned and Justin wrapped his arms around him. Brian rested his head on Justin's shoulder and allowed the blonde to hold him.

"It's ok, I'm ok now," Justin said in a calm voice as he smoothed his good hand over Brian's hair.

Brian took a deep shuddering breath, wrapped his arms around Justin and held him tightly.

"Hey Michael, can I talk to you for a minute?" Justin asked at the diner a few days later.

"Yeah, I guess so, what do you want?" Michael asked.

"Outside?" Justin asked.

The two walked outside and down the street a little ways.

"So what do you want?" Michael asked.

"I just had a question about when I was in the hospital," Justin said.

Michael's face softened a little, "Yeah, what is it?"

"Brian and I talked about it a couple of nights ago. I remembered prom," Justin said.

"Oh, that's great, congratulations," Michael said.

"Yeah, thanks. So we were talking and Brian started to say something about those first three days, but he couldn't finish and I didn't want to push him. So I'm wondering…" Justin trailed off.

"If I know what he was going to say," Michael said.

"Yeah, sort of, I mean you were there for those three days, you know what happen," Justin said.

Michael sighed, "He didn't' leave the hospital for the first three days. He refused to leave the seat outside your room until they assured him you were going to be ok."

"Wow," Justin said.

"He just sat there for three days in the suit he wore to your prom, holding that scarf, staring off into space and looking like he was going to cry any second. I've never seen him like that. He was almost completely unresponsive the first day or so. He sat there with blood and dirt on his face and neck and didn't even look at any of us.

"Your mom tried to kick him out but he wouldn't leave, he wouldn't even look at her. It was like he was just looking through us all, like he'd completely shut down mentally and gone somewhere else entirely. It was God damn scary," Michael said with a shake of his head.

There was such pain evident in his voice as he spoke that for the first time Justin realized just how much the bashing had affected them all. He realized how hard it must have been for Michael to see his 'hero' fall in such a way.

"That's why we were all so surprised when he never came to see you after you woke up. They told him that you were going to be ok and he left the hospital and never came back," Michael said.

"He was there for three whole days?" Justin asked in amazement.

"Yeah, never actually went in the room, don't think your mom would've let him anyway. But he was there, like some God damn guardian angel," Michael said.

"Thanks Michael," Justin said.

Later that evening Justin was sitting on the edge of the bed wrestling with his thoughts. He trusted Brian and wanted to have sex with him but he was still scared. What if Brian didn't really want him anymore? What if Brian wouldn't want someone damaged? When you're as amazing as Brian Kinney you can have anyone you want, why would he want someone with all these problems? What if he only pitied him?

But he was there for three days, Justin reminded himself. He was there, watching over you, making sure you were ok every night and now you're living with him and he's taking care of you. Besides, Justin reasoned with himself, Brian Kinney doesn't do pity.

The two had gone out to Babylon that evening and Brian hadn't left Justins side all night. Justin had felt so safe and protected even though he was in a huge crowd of people.

Brian came out of the bathroom; he had disappeared in there when they got home a few minutes ago. Justin figured he had gone to take a shower but when Brian came back out fully clothed much sooner than Justin had anticipated, he realized that he was wrong and would have to make his decision a lot faster than he had planned.

Brian came over to sit next to Justin on the bed so he could remove his boots and Justin put his hand around the back of Brian's neck. Brian stopped what he was doing and looked at the boy next to him.

Justin closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. When the two broke apart they were panting slightly. Justin reached for the buttons on Brian's sleeveless shirt and began undoing them. He noticed a piece of white material under the shirt and pulled the shirt back to see what it was.

When Justin recognized the scarf from prom night all covered in blood, his blood, he nearly came undone. He felt a lump rise in his throat and his heart fill up his chest. He looked into Brian's face with a question in his eyes.

Brian looked a little ashamed that Justin had found the scarf and he looked away. Justin pulled the scarf from around the older mans neck and studied it for a moment; he thought of what it could have represented; love and the beginning of something magical between himself and Brian. But that wasn't what it represented to Brian. To Brian the scarf was a reminder of the time he hadn't been able to help Justin, the time that he was too late to save him.

Justin considered these things before making a decision. He wasn't going to let prom night, or Chris Hobbs or a gimp hand dictate his life. He gave the scarf a final look before discarding it on the floor.

He touched Brian's face and turned it towards him forcing the older man to look at him.

"Make love to me," Justin whispered.

"Are you sure?" Brian asked.

Justin nodded and pulled Brian in for a kiss.


	2. Pain Management

**Edited by**: Maria, Jill and Zosha  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine, the pretty, pretty boys belong to CowLip and nothing belongs to me, don't sue!  
**Summary**: Brian tries to help Justin cope with the effects of the bashing

* * *

Justin stood at the sink with Brian shaving and smiling. A sometimes dangerous combination, he speculated, as he cut his chin. Justin had been living happily, for the most part, with Brian for a couple of weeks. So far it seemed like Brian half enjoyed having him around and Justin was feeling quite content with life. 

Justin still wasn't completely back to normal; he couldn't do large crowds alone and his hand still gave him fits. But sometimes, when he and Brian were together doing something as simple as sharing the sink to shave, Justin had a hard time remembering Chris Hobbs and what he'd taken away from him. Instead, he was content to focus on the thrill he got from being with Brian.

Brian glanced over at Justin's hiss as the blade nicked his chin.

"You should really be more careful, Sunshine, we wouldn't want you slashing your own throat now would we?" Brian asked with a smirk as he reached over to swipe the small drop of blood off of his lovers chin.

Justin playfully scowled at him for a moment. "You have your shaving techniques; I have mine. Leave me alone."

"O-oh and your techniques involve slashing your throat? Well, be my guest, just don't bleed on the good towels," Brian said placing his tongue firmly in his cheek and quirking an eyebrow in Justin's direction.

Brian turned back to his shaving, all the while throwing glances at the blonde next to him.

"What do you shave anyway? You had absolutely no stubble before you shaved; you look exactly the same now as before except for that chunk missing out of your chin. Are you sure there's even a blade in there?" Brian teased.

Brian reached for Justin's razor to 'check' for a blade; Justin shot Brian a quick scowl before switching his razor to the other hand; farther away from Brian.

"What time are we meeting the guys?" Justin asked ignoring Brian's comment from a moment before. Brian apparently decided to let the issue drop and he turned back to the mirror to finish his own shaving.

Justin splashed some water on his face to rid himself of the last of the shaving cream then grabbed a towel and scooted out of Brian's way so he could do the same.

"Six thirty, and if we don't hurry up we're going to be late," Brian said.

"You like being late," Justin reminded him with a grin.

Brian splashed some water on his face and then toweled off his face and shoulder where some of the water had splashed. "You're right about that," Brian said with a grin as his fingers wormed their way into the boys' towel where the end was tucked in neatly. He expertly pulled Justin in for a kiss.

Justin pulled away slightly.

"We better go get dressed," Justin said.

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth then swatted Justin's butt with a towel.

"Get going then," Brian said with a smile.

Justin grinned, he loved playful Brian. It was a side of himself that Justin was sure the dark haired man didn't let many people see and Justin felt truly blessed to be one of the few that Brian 'played' with.

Justin was walking into the bedroom when the first stab of pain hit him. It was directly behind his right eye and he nearly collapsed from the shear force of the pain. He reached out and grabbed the bathroom door frame as a wave of nausea swept over him full force and spots began to dance in front of his eyes.

With a groan he started to involuntarily drop to the floor but suddenly Brian was there and caught him.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Brian asked worriedly as he half carried Justin over to the bed.

"My head, the light," Justin mumbled.

Fuck, a migraine. This was the first full blown migraine that Brian had had to deal with since Justin moved in. Brian was almost getting used to pretending prom night had never happen and that Justin was ok. This, though, brought back the reality that Justin was still suffering from a massive head trauma. It was almost enough to make Brian ill as well.

Brian hurried around extinguishing all the lights in the loft. Ok, now what, now what? Brian tried to remember all of Jennifer's careful instructions. She had left him a list with all of Justins' medications, including the instructions on how and when to administer them. Where is that fucking list? Brian began to half panic as he made his way quickly and quietly to the bathroom.

Brian knew that if he had to call Jennifer she'd insist on coming over and mothering Justin to death. The boy whimpering quietly in the bed certainly didn't look like he needed to be mothered to death. Brian rummaged through the pill bottles and was relieved to find one that had 'Migraine Stuff' written on the label with a black marker. The writing was Justin's and Brian silently thanked the boy.

After checking the labels on the other bottles just to be sure, Brian decided that the one in his hand was indeed the correct medication for the situation. He popped the bottle open and noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. He shook two of the small pink pills into his hand and quickly filled up a glass with water then he returned to Justin's side with the water and pills.

"Here, take these, they'll help," Brian whispered.

Justin opened his eyes and blanched at the water as the nausea returned full force.

"You need to take them," Brian coaxed.

Justin relented and let Brian help him sit up to take a sip of the water and force the pills down. He then laid back and closed his eyes allowing Brian to ease a pair of pajama pants over his hips.

Brian finished getting Justin half dressed and covered with a blanket then he stood to change into a pair of his own pajama pants. He then headed over to the phone to call Michael and let him know that he and Justin wouldn't be coming out with them.

After an argument with Michael over Justin ruining his life Brian hung up rather abruptly and turned the ringer on the phone to the 'off' position. Last thing the kid needs is to hear the phone ringing twenty times tonight while Mikey tries to convince me to leave him and go out, Brian mused.

Brian went over to the computer intending to get some work done but he couldn't concentrate. Michael's words kept running through his mind 'You're letting him change you Brian'. It just kept going like a CD stuck on loop. After a few minutes Brian sighed and turned the computer off. He realized that no work was going to get done.

The brunette was wondering through the kitchen in the dark looking for something to nibble on when he heard Justin bite back a moan. He hurried up to the bedroom and found Justin curled around a pillow in the fetal position, hands clutching at his head.

"Hey," Brian whispered as he carefully sat down next to Justin.

"Just make it stop, please make it stop," Justin pleaded with a sob.

Brian felt his heart constrict as he realized there was nothing he could do for the boy besides be there with him while they waited it out. Brian scooted over closer to him and wrapped his arms around him. Justin rolled over with a grunt of pain and buried his face in Brian's chest.

They lay like that for a moment and then Brian had an idea.

"Roll over," he whispered.

Justin moaned a little but complied.

Brian sat astride Justin's hips and began to massage the muscles on the back of the boys' neck and into his shoulders before moving up to his temples and rubbing light circles there.

"Am I hurting you?" Brian asked.

"No, it feels good," Justin replied in a pain filled, raspy whisper.

And so Brian continued his ministrations on Justin's tight muscles until he felt the teen relax. Then he lay back down beside him and let the boy fall into a light slumber with his head on Brian's shoulder.

Justin awoke a couple of hours later to find Brian watching him. His head was feeling a lot better; the nausea and spots in front of his eyes were completely gone.

"This is a change, I'm usually the one awake, watching you," Justin said his voice gravelly from sleep.

"I was just making sure you're ok. What kind of care giver would I be if I left you on your own just after your head almost explodes?" Brian said in a light teasing tone.

Justin smiled at him, "Not a very good one."

"So, how are you feeling?" Brian asked.

"Better, I have a headache but the nausea and light sensitivity is gone for now, I think the massage helped, thank you," Justin said.

"You're welcome," Brian responded placing a kiss on Justin's full lips.

The two settled back down and lay in silence for a while until Brian spoke up.

"So are you hungry? Want me to order something?" Brian asked.

* * *

A few nights later Brian and Justin were staying in. Justin wanted to draw and Brian had a campaign that desperately needed his attention if Ryder had a prayer of getting the account. Brian was having a hard time working though, Michael's words from a few nights earlier kept flitting into his mind at the most inopportune moments and it took all his willpower and concentration to focus enough to get anything done. 

That's why it took Brian a moment to realize that Justin was cursing when his first 'Fuck!' exploded from the living room. After the curse registered Brian looked up from his lap top and checked the boy over quickly with his eyes. It didn't look like Justin was in any immediate pain or danger so he went back to his campaign.

"Fuck!" Justin exclaimed a minute later.

Brian looked up again and again it seemed the boy was fine.

On the third 'Fuck' he didn't even look up.

When the fourth 'Fuck' within a ten minute time span was accompanied by a 'shit' and a 'damn' Brian stood up from his desk and walked over to Justin, who was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with several sketch pads out in front of him.

Brian let his eyes play over Justins' work. It was definitely done by someone with talent but was shit compared to Justins' usual art. Satisfied at having found the source of the teen's outbursts Brian went back to his desk without a word and sat back down to try and work.

Brian quickly realized that he simply couldn't get his mind in gear to work seriously on the campaign. It wasn't just Michael's words that were bothering him, it was the fact that Justin was going through something huge, something life changing and there was nothing Brian could do to make it better. Brian didn't stop to analyze the fact that he wanted to make it all better.

Justin was quiet for some time before he let loose with a string of curses that was accompanied by him throwing all his work from the past hour on the floor. After sufficiently covering the floor with his artwork, he got up and stormed out of the room, stepping on numerous sketches as he made his way to the bedroom. He climbed the stairs and flopped down onto the bed with flourish.

Brian looked up as Justin stormed past him. He raised an eyebrow as the teen flung himself on the bed. Brian took a moment to decide if he should let Justin deal with this on his own or if he should go see if he could help.

In the end Brian decided to go to him.

"Hey," Brian said.

Justin didn't move or reply so Brian sat down next to him and laid a hand on the teens back.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?" Brian asked.

Justin sat up and looked at Brian his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You want to know what that was all about?" Justin asked angrily. "I'll tell you what that was all about." He held his right hand up with his left. "This is what it was all about," Justin said, his voice nearly a sob.

Brian noticed the fine tremors running through Justin's right hand and took it in between his own hands. A moment later a powerful cramp went through that same hand causing Justin's fingers to hook into an almost claw-like state. Brian felt his heart go out to the boy who was trying so hard to keep the agony of the cramp from showing on his face.

"You're just pushing yourself too hard," Brian said as he began rubbing Justin's hand and trying to work the cramp out with his own strong fingers.

"I have to push myself hard if I want to go to PIFA this fall," Justin said in a shaky voice.

"If your hand isn't strong enough for you to go this fall no one's going to blame you. You could wait and enroll in the spring," Brian said.

"I'm going this fall," Justin said resolutely.

Brian smiled at the kids determined nature.

"Alright, alright, you're going this fall and you're going to do great," Brian said.

"Yeah, if I can learn how to draw by then," Justin said bitterly.

"You draw fine, much better than me," Brian said knowing he was setting himself up for a major jab from the kid and hoping he'd take the bait.

Justin grinned a little, "Gus can draw better than you so that's not really a compliment."

Brian feigned anger at the remark for a moment and then grinned, relieved that the blonde had taken the bait.

"I suppose you're right," Brian said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer; Brian massaging the tense muscles in Justin's hand and Justin lying back with his eyes closed. When he began to feel the muscles relax Brian asked, "Feel better?"

Justin flexed his fingers for a moment before replying, "Good as new. Thank you."

"Anytime, Sunshine, anytime. Now get your ass up and go clean up the living room," Brian said swatting Justin on the butt as he stood.

Later that night Brian lay awake in bed listening to Justin breathe. So far so good, he thought to himself. Usually the nightmares started around 2am. Brian checked the clock; 2:18. Maybe he'll go one night without dreaming, Brian thought to himself. That'd be good for him, a whole night of undisturbed sleep.

Brian had no sooner had the thought than Justin started writhing around a little and moaning. Or not, Brian thought. The brunette turned onto his side facing Justin and watched the boy. It didn't seem the dream was too bad just yet and Brian was trying to decide if he should wake him now or see if it would pass.

A moment later Justin started breathing a little heavy and Brian took that as a sign to wake him. Laying a hand on Justin's stomach, Brian began to shake him just a little, trying to lull him back to consciousness.

Justin's breathing went back to normal and Brian began to mutter what he assumed were comforting words into Justin's ear.

"It's ok Justin, you're safe, I'm right here," Brian murmured his lips brushing the blonde's ear.

After a moment Justin's eyes fluttered open and Brian was staring directly into the blue depths. Justin started at him for a second as if trying to process what he was seeing then he wrapped both of his arms around Brian's neck pulling the man down hard on top of him.

Brian was a little startled; he hadn't been met with this reaction to a nightmare before. He maneuvered himself around until he was able to run one hand through Justin's hair.

"Wanna tell me about it?" Brian asked in a soft voice.

"You got attacked by Hobbs," Justin said in a thick voice.

Brian just nodded a little against the boy's shoulder. He didn't have to say anything else. Brian fully understood the paralyzing fear of watching someone you care about be attacked by Hobbs. He understood and remembered it all too well.

Brian's arm tightened around Justin a little. The two lay in silence that way for a long while; Brian half way on top of Justin with one arm around his waist, the other hand in his hair and Justin's arms wrapped firmly around Brian's neck.

How does he always know? Justin wondered to himself. How can he always tell when I need to be woken up, when I need to be comforted? Justin smiled inwardly a little. Brian could tell him that he doesn't do love all he wanted. This right now, Justin realized, was love.

Eventually Brian's back began to hurt from the awkward position Justin had forced him into when the blonde had grabbed on to him a while earlier. Carefully making sure that Justin didn't have to lose contact with Brian's body the brunette rolled onto his back and gathered Justin against his chest, holding him tightly.

It didn't take long after that for Justin to drift back off to sleep, lightly snoring into Brian's shoulder. Brian could tell almost immediately that the rest of the night would be peaceful. There was something about the way Justin's body felt against him that told him whether or not the rest of the night would be ok or filled with bad dreams.

As Brian lay there trying to force himself to sleep Michael's words came back to him, haunting his mind again. 'You're letting him change you, Brian.' Brian almost sighed as the words found their way into his mind for what had to be the millionth time since Michael said them and then Brian realized something. He _was_ letting Justin change him. He wasn't such a cold hearted bastard anymore. Brian couldn't imagine himself lying in bed holding someone tight to his chest a year ago.

The more Brian pondered these thoughts the more he realized that the change was long overdue. He was a father now after all, he needed to learn to help others and to care what happened to the people he…cared about.

Brian smiled and tightened his arms around Justin's sleeping form. Yes, I'm letting him change me and it's all for the better.


	3. Reaching Out

**Warnings:** Implied Ethan/Justin…but when reading this remember that I hate Ethan with a fiery passion. Also pretty bad lanuage.  
**Spoilers:** Mid season 2 through mid season 3  
**Summary:** Justin and Brian have some pretty heavy thoughts at night while they're separated.

* * *

No, no, please God no! Justin's mind screamed over and over as he watched Hobbs advance on Brian with a bat. No wait, a knife, no-hang on, maybe it's a gun! Whatever, it's a weapon and he's going to kill Brian with it, Justin thought in horror.

Justin couldn't get his mouth in gear though; it resembled a fish's; opening and closing silently. His limbs seemed to be under the same spell as his voice was, for he could not move a muscle. No, please not Brian, anything, anyone but Brian, Justin pleaded silently.

"Say good night faggot," Hobbs sneered coldly.

The jock lunged for Brian and suddenly Justin was sitting bolt right up in bed, panting as though he'd just run a marathon. For a moment he was completely disoriented and automatically reached to his right through the darkness for Brian. When his hand made contact it was not with Brian's soft flesh, but with an upturned crate serving as a nightstand. Then things began to come clear again.

He wasn't in Brian's loft; he'd never be there again. Instead he was in the run down apartment that he shared with his starving artist boyfriend, his starving artist boyfriend who loved him and treated him like he was the only thing in the world.

Justin scoffed inwardly, if it's all so great why aren't you dreaming about him? Justin groaned softly and struggled out of bed, not even bothering to be careful not to disturb the man sleeping beside him. Ethan never wakes up anyway.

Fucking nightmares Justin swore to himself as his breathing calmed. He walked over to the window, lit a cigarette and stood there staring out into the dark street, thinking about his dreams.

It had been awhile since he'd had any nightmares. Only one or two the last few months he'd lived with Brian and only a couple in the months since he'd moved in with Ethan. But the past 5 nights had found Justin staring out at that dark street, smoking a cigarette and trying to calm his racing heart. Every dream had been about Brian.

He'd spent the first couple of nights trying to figure out what had triggered the dreams. There was always a trigger; a bad fight with Brian…a hard day at school. Moving in with Ethan had spurred a whole week of nightmares, all about Brian. Justin carefully considered his life at the moment and realized that the trigger had to be seeing Ethan with that other guy at the concert the weekend before. Of course it hadn't taken much thinking to come to that conclusion; it was pretty obvious.

Justin was ultimately conflicted about seeing Ethan-with what he assumed was-a trick. At first he'd been hurt and angry. But the more he thought about it in the time before Ethan returned home from the trip the more Justin realized that his _real_ feelings about Ethan's possible cheating were more relief than anything else. He'd tried to understand what that meant but had given up trying in the end.

Of course when Justin confronted the other man about seeing him with the trick, Ethan had explained that he was only talking music with a fellow musician. That, of course, made sense and Justin had been…disappointed. But of course that was ludicrous. All Justin had ever wanted was for someone to take him in their arms and profess their undying love for him while making slow sweet love in the candle light. And that's exactly what Ethan did.

When Ethan had realized that Justin really had thought he was cheating, he first went off on a tirade about Brian and his unfaithful ways. He then spent the rest of the night telling Justin how much he loved and treasured him; how much their relationship meant to him and then they'd 'made love' while the candles flickered from various surfaces around the apartment.

The following morning Ethan had described it as the most passionate 'love making' of his life. Justin didn't really think Ethan would know passion if it hit him on the head. Passion isn't 'making love' for so long that you don't even want to cum anymore; you just want it to be over so you can get some sleep. Passion is hot and wild and orgasmic. And as far as Justin was concerned, a quick fuck in the backroom with the right person was a hundred times more passionate than what had transpired between himself and Ethan that night.

Justin had spent the past few nights trying to figure out what his dreams meant. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out, that on some level, they meant that he still had feelings for Brian. That he still loved that dark haired asshole. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Justin had never really wanted just 'anyone' to take him in their arms and express their undying love; he'd wanted Brian. Justin took a puff on his cigarette and regarded the man in the bed.

Was it healthy to think that if Brian had just bought him a birthday card he wouldn't even be with Ethan right now? Justin contemplated that for a moment and decided that it probably wasn't. He should just leave and go back-

But that was the problem; there was nothing to go back to. Brian would surely never take him back, not after the way Justin had made a show of leaving him. Justin sighed. Brian probably didn't even think of him anymore. He'd said that if he went to New York he'd never think of him again, this was probably the same thing. It had been months and he was sure that he hadn't entered Brian's mind once.

Justin stubbed out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray. No, there was no going back, especially when there was nothing to go back to. The best thing to do was just get back into bed with the man who loved him and try to love him back.

Justin let out a long sigh as he pulled the covers back and lay down on the edge of the bed. Some time later, after he'd fallen asleep, Justin's hand ended up on the upturned crate. Just like it did every night, his hand silently reached out for someone who wasn't there anymore.

Across town, in the 'rich' neighborhood, Brian stumbled into the loft alone. Another night of drinking himself into oblivion was over. As he made his way across the too empty, too quiet loft toward his bed, nausea threatened to overtake him.

"I'm Brian fucking Kinney," he said aloud to himself. "And Brian fucking Kinney doesn't puke after drinking. He doesn't care when some little fucking overgrown twink leaves him either."

Brian took a swig from the bottle of Beam in his hand.

"Fucking twinks, who gives a fuck about 'em anyway?" Brian asked the silent room as he sat on the bed and pulled off his boots.

"Oh fuck," Brian muttered as he hurried into the bathroom.

After the contents of his stomach had been emptied into the toilet he lay down on his bed, not even bothering to get undressed or pull down the duvet. He watched the room spin around him and unconsciously scooted over to 'Justin's' side of the bed. He imagined that if he concentrated really hard he could still smell the blonde on the pillow. Brian buried his face in it and breathed deeply.

It doesn't smell like him anymore, Brian realized. That thought sobered him more than puking up all the alcohol in stomach had. It's been months and the pillow doesn't smell like Justin. The loft is empty. It's too neat and quiet around here and the God damn fucking pillow doesn't smell like him anymore.

His dirty socks aren't at the foot of the bed. My shirts aren't first missing and then turning up in his drawer two days later; fuck, his drawer is empty. There are no charcoal smudges on the towels from his fingers after a long day of drawing. His toothbrush isn't in the holder on the sink next to mine and this God damn, shit sucking, mother fucking pillow doesn't smell like him anymore.

Brian chucked the pillow across the room, eager to get it as far away from him as possible. Then he got up out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He stared at the toothbrush holder with his lone toothbrush in it for a long moment before picking it up and violently throwing it onto the floor where the plastic smashed into pieces. The toothbrush slid across the floor and bounced off the edge of the shower. He then rounded on the towels, yanked them all from their towel racks and flung them around the room.

In the bedroom, he tore his drawers apart and threw the clothes everywhere, not really caring where they landed. Down in the kitchen he threw the barstools across the room before upending the coffee table and his chaise lounge, all in a fit of pure rage.

Brian stopped and looked at the chaos around him for a moment before taking a deep shuddering breath and heading back up the steps to his bed and collapsing on Justin's side.

When Maria came in the next morning she sighed deeply for her boss; she hated to see him suffer this way. She rarely ever saw him but she'd talked with that adorable blonde, Justin, many times, he was so nice and now he's gone. She was sure this man who supposedly said that he couldn't love, that he didn't 'do love', loved that boy. She shook her head as she reached for the note left for her:

Maria,  
Sorry about the mess.  
-Brian

Attached to the note was a hundred dollar bill. Whenever Brian destroyed his loft this way he had always left her a hundred dollar bill. She'd gladly give back the many hundreds Brian had left her in the past few months if Justin would just come back to him.


End file.
