And You're the One Vanishing

Part Two

Minutes or hours later, Brian couldn't be sure; he heard the loft door open. "Brian," he heard Michael call. "I've been trying to get a hold of you all night. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Brian remained silent while Michael made his way back to the bedroom. "Brian, what's wrong?" Brian didn't say anything. He just watched Michael's eyes dart between Brian's face and the now mostly empty bottle on the nightstand. He knew the instant Michael spotted the picture he was clutching.

Michael took the picture. He examined it carefully then looked back to Brian. "Who is this?" he asked quietly.

"Justin, I knew him in San Francisco." Brian was surprised to find his voice still worked.

Michael nodded and sat down on the bed. When Brian didn't say anything else, he prompted "And he was your. . . ?"

Brian allowed himself a small smile. "He was the guy I fucked more than once." He knew Michael had been waiting for him to say lover or partner, but although that was much closer to the truth, he couldn't admit that. Even to Michael, he couldn't admit how deeply he had fallen. He couldn't admit how easy it had been, once he was away from the myth and legend of Brian Kinney, to let someone into his life. He couldn't admit how right it had felt to share his life with Justin. He couldn't admit how quickly he'd forgotten that people like him weren't made for love or happy endings. He couldn't admit any of it out loud, not after the way it ended.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about him?"

Justin had asked him that once. He'd been hurt when he realized no one in Pittsburgh knew about their relationship. "What the fuck, Brian? I thought we had something here, but apparently I was wrong. Is this how you're passing time in California? By fucking Craig Taylor's son?"

Brian had winced. He knew Justin had problems with his professional relationship with Craig, but he had no idea it was that bad. "Justin, this has nothing to do with Craig. I don't think of you as his son, you know that. I'm doing a lot more than passing time with you."

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that, but I don't understand." Justin had held his hands up in apology.

"What I have with you is something I never expected. It's something I would never let myself even think about. That's what my friends know of me. If I tell them about you, they won't understand. There will be endless speculation and questions and doubts. I don't want to deal with that. Once you are there, once they meet you it will all make sense. I want to wait until it's permanent." They had talked about Justin coming to Pittsburgh before in vague terms. This was the closest Brian would come to asking him.

Justin smiled. "You have a plan, don't you?" he asked as understanding dawned.

"I figure your first morning in Pittsburgh I'll take you to the diner and announce you as my live-in lover. Get the shock over with all at once."

"Drama queen," Justin teased. "But you better make it my second morning. I don't plan to leave the bed for at least the first day."

"Brian?" Michael's voice brought him back to the present.

"It was never meant to last. There was no reason to tell you." It was as much of the truth as Brian could stand.

"Like a really long vacation romance," Michael smiled when Brian nodded. "Tell me about him."

"He was beautiful," Brian began, pointing to the picture. "He had an amazing ass and gave the best blow jobs. He was smart and funny and almost as big of a drama queen as Emmett. He could be a bit of a know-it-all, but he was so serious about everything that you didn't mind. Your mother would have loved him. He was fucking talented. The paintings here and at the office are his. And…" Brian took a deep breath and forced himself to say the words, "he's dead."

The look of shock on Michael's face was almost comical. "Oh my God, Brian, why didn't you say something? I can go with you to San Francisco for the funeral. Just let me call Ben"

"Michael, it's over," Brian interrupted. "He died months ago. I just found out today."

"No one told you?"

"There was no one to tell me. He didn't work for me, and no one in the office knew him. His mother thought I was bad for him, and his father is a homophobic prick." Brian made a mental note to cancel Craig Taylor's account tomorrow and to find some way to destroy the man.

"How can you be homophobic in San Francisco?"

"Mikey, if you can find fags in Idaho, you can find homophobes in San Francisco." Brian sighed. "Justin's family was old money, at least on his mother's side. His father was all about social standing and reputation. When he found out Justin was gay, he told him faggots might move to San Francisco, but they weren't born there. They didn't speak much after that."

"Brian, I'm so sorry. Do you want to go anyway? You could say goodbye. Maybe visit his grave, you know, for closure," Michael suggested gently.

"No, Mikey, Justin and I had all the goodbyes we need." He shook his head and tried to forget promises made on the parking garage floor and in the back of an ambulance.

"If you're sure?" Michael sounded uncertain. "Do you need anything?"

"No, Mikey, go home. I just need time…" He didn't finish because he didn't know how. What did he need time for? To remember or to forget? It was all so fucking tangled in his head.

"If you're sure," Michael said again. He stood up and handed the picture of Justin back to Brian. "You can call me anytime."

Brian watched him turn to leave, but stopped him. "I can't talk about him again, so nobody else knows. Okay?"

Michael nodded and left without another word. Brian knew Justin would never be mentioned again. Once Michael was gone, Brian was at a loss of what to do. He reached for the bottle then set it back down. He didn't want to sleep. He knew what his dreams would be, but now that he recognized the dreams for memories, he didn't need sleep to trigger them.

He wanted to go back. He wanted it to be yesterday again. Because wondering was so much better than this. Even wondering if he was losing his mind was better than knowing. It was too easy to remember now, too easy to fill in the blanks his dreams left him with. It was too easy to think about things like the night he'd met Justin.

It had been at a fundraiser Jennifer was hosting. Craig had invited Brian with promises of introducing him to potential clients. Craig said some days he might hate his ex-wife, but she still had the best social connections, so he supported her pet projects. Brian couldn't even remember what the benefit had been for. Brian had spent the evening charming Craig's friends and watching Justin from across the room. He was stunning in his tuxedo, by far the best looking man there. It was ironic, Brian thought, that the first and last time he'd seen Justin they had both been wearing tuxedos. Brian wasn't sure he'd ever be able to wear one again.

Towards the end of the night, Brian had finally made his way over to Justin. He was surprised at how young he looked close up, but he shrugged that off. Brian had seen him drinking so he knew he was over the age of consent. He'd already scored as much as he could professionally; it was time for some action of a more personal nature. "Having a good time?" Brian asked openly looking Justin over.

"Not bad," Justin had smirked. "Mom throws a great party."

Brian followed his gaze to where Jennifer Taylor was standing. Fuck, he thought. "Jennifer Taylor is your mother. Which means Craig Taylor"

Justin quickly interrupted him. "I have no relationship with Craig Taylor," he said firmly holding Brian's eyes.

Brian nodded, surprised at the strength Justin showed. There might be more to this kid than just his looks. "So where are you headed after this?"

"No place special."

"I can change that," Brian answered suggestively.

"I'll bet you can," Justin laughed under his breath. "One of the benefits of spending so much time in this place is I know where the private bathrooms are."

Brian gestured for Justin to lead the way, anticipation already building. He'd fucked Justin in the bathroom then issued an uncharacteristic invitation to his apartment. He never stood a chance after that.

It wasn't like it was perfect. God knows they fought. And while it had been surprisingly easy to fall into a relationship, Brian had put up a predicable defense. One night after a few months of seeing each other regularly, Brian made sure his trick was still there when Justin arrived. It was a deliberately hurtful thing to do, and Justin had been understandably pissed, giving Brian the perfect opportunity to put him in his place.

"I don't know what you think we're doing here, Justin, but we're not married. And if that's what you're waiting for you can leave now. I'll fuck who I want when I want. I'm not interested in matching cock rings and his and his towels. So if you're looking for some sweet little husband, you've come to the wrong place. I don't believe in love. I believe in fucking."

Justin had laughed before Brian could finish his semi-rehearsed speech. "Sometimes you are so full of bullshit I can't believe it. Look, Brian I'm not some starry eyed kid who confuses sex with declarations of undying love. I've been around enough to know what I'm getting into with you. I don't expect monogamy, but I do expect common fucking decency. If you can't give me that then I am in the wrong place."

Brian had stared at Justin not sure what to say. He hadn't expected Justin to react this way.

"All I need, Brian, is for you to admit I mean something more to you than the guy who just left."

"Jesus, Justin you know you do." Brian stepped forward wanting to touch Justin. He suddenly felt like he'd been saved from making a very big mistake.

"You're right; I do, and so do you. So next time keep the panic attack to yourself. And don't ever use your tricks or your need for sexual freedom to shame me into not expecting things from you, or I'll be out the door for good."

"I'll find a new way to fuck this up." Brian wasn't going to make promises he couldn't keep.

Justin let out a long suffering sigh, "At least I won't be bored."

And then it had been Brian's turn to laugh. He thought that was why they had worked. They were always able to laugh. And Justin wasn't intimidated by Brian. He was never afraid to call him on what he saw as Brian's bullshit. He challenged Brian, but at the same time didn't expect him to be perfect. They balanced each other out in ways Brian had never expected.

In a moment of weakness, he went to the closet and pulled Justin's shirt from the box. He lay down with it and smelled it like he wanted to earlier. The memories of watching Justin paint were sharp and painful. He couldn't count the number of times he'd come back to the apartment to find Justin painting in a shirt just like this. He'd work quietly on his computer until Justin finished what he was doing and realized Brian was there. Sometimes it took a few minutes and sometimes it was hours. He would always turn and greet Brian with a huge smile and a "Hey, how long have you been home?"

Those nights usually ended with Brian stripping the paint stained clothes from Justin's body before taking him into the bedroom. Sometimes he'd slowly work the knots from Justin's back if he'd been standing in front of the easel for too long. Then they'd make love for hours. Other nights, still high from creativity, Justin would take charge and ravage Brian. He buried his face in the shirt and let it absorb his tears as he mourned the nights he'd never have again

*****.

At the end of August, Justin sat across from his mother at the same restaurant where he'd told Brian about his job in Pittsburgh. He'd made the reservations himself. It seemed only fitting to deliver similar news in the same location.

"So, Justin, what's the occasion? You haven't taken me out in months." Jennifer's smile faltered when she realized what she said.

Justin sighed. This was why he had to go. He loved his mother, but she was driving him crazy. She hovered constantly, torn between her desire to pretend like nothing had happened and her need to protect him from the world. She refused to acknowledge the progress he'd made, but at the same time, she didn't want to deal with his frustrations and fears. "Mom, I wanted to let you know I'm leaving next week."

"Justin, that's wonderful. I'm so glad you realized a change of scenery is just what you need. I'll call the travel agent in the morning and start making arrangements. Where do you want to go first? Paris, London, or Florence?"

"Mom, I'm not going to Europe. I'm going to Pittsburgh; I still have a job there at the Art Institute."

Jennifer gasped. "Justin you can't be serious. There is no way you can take that position, not after what happened. Your hand," she gestured weakly.

Justin shifted uncomfortably. He knew this conversation wouldn't be easy, but it had to be done. "My hand is a lot better. It will never be like it was, but I can do this. The school knows about what happened, and they are willing to work with me. You're right; I do need a change of scenery. Just not such an exotic one." He tried to charm her with a forced smile.

"Oh, Justin, I just don't know. It's so far away and you don't have any family there. Wouldn't you be better off closer to home? Somewhere I could check in on you, and you wouldn't have to worry about. . ." Jennifer let her voice trail off.

"I need to do this, Mom. And Pittsburgh is a big city. There's no reason for me to run into Brian. I'll be fine."

Jennifer nodded and changed the subject. She wondered if this was her chance to tell Justin the truth, that she'd always suspect Craig had lied about why Brian left. But what if she was wrong? If Craig was telling the truth, Justin would be hurt all over again. And Brian had never once called. She couldn't bear to see those wounds reopened so she remained silent.

Before dessert, Justin excused himself to the restroom where he let the waiter suck him off. He smiled down at the man on his knees in front of him and sent a silent "fuck you" to Brian.

*****

Brian couldn't believe he let Lindsay talk him into this. Dinner was almost over and he couldn't be more relieved. He knew the awkwardness was his fault, but Brian could only fake so much interest in small talk. He wondered how much of this impromptu visit to Pittsburgh was about the art show she was dragging him to and how much was about checking up on him. Brian knew Michael had kept his promise not to tell anyone about Justin, but Brian couldn't completely hide his depression. Memories assaulted him at the oddest moments, each one a reminder of what he had lost, a loss he couldn't bring himself to talk about.

Tonight had been no exception. Lindsay had met him at the loft before dinner and followed him into the bedroom while he finished getting ready. When she spotted the painting, she studied it for several minutes before speaking.

"Brian, this is stunning. I love the use of color to create the sense of intimacy. Where did you get it?"

Brian knew she could see the same thing he did when she looked at it. "I picked it up in San Francisco. The artist had a few small shows. He's no longer painting." Not a lie just not the complete truth.

"What a shame," Lindsay seemed disappointed.

"Let's go before we miss our reservations," Brian hustled her from the room as quickly as possible. But he'd spent the ride to the restaurant and the first half of dinner thinking about the night that had inspired the painting.

He and Justin had been together about a year at that point. Brian had come back from the office late to find Justin already in bed. Justin had been living with him unofficially by then. The only time he stayed at his small apartment near the university was when Brian was out of town. He never asked Justin to move in; he'd just made room for Justin's things and suggested he bring more and more of his belongings to the apartment.

Brian had showered then slipped quietly into bed not sure if Justin was asleep. He had just started to drift off himself when Justin's voice had startled him.

"What do you think when you come home and find me here?" Justin was almost whispering in deference to the darkness.

"What?" Brian had no idea what Justin was getting at.

"Are you alright with the presumption that I'll be here? My presence is kind of a given at this point, and I just need to know if that bothers you. If it makes you feel trapped."

Even now Brian didn't know what prompted Justin's questions, but he always suspected he'd had a run in with Craig. The rare occasions when he actually spoke to his father always left Justin unsettled and insecure. "Justin, you know me. I would have no trouble telling you if I had a problem with you being here. You're here, hell I'm here, because that's what I want."

"I'm being silly, aren't I?" Justin gave Brian a small smile. "I just needed to be sure."

"I know you are going to be here when I come home. So when I come home at night, I'm doing exactly what I want to do - coming home to you. Justin I want you here; I want you with me as long as it's what you want. It's your call." He kept a hand on Justin's face making sure he was looking at him. He wanted Justin to understand how serious he was.

Justin turned his face and kissed Brian's palm. "Then I guess you're going to be stuck with me for a long time."

"I can live with that." Brian let out a relieved chuckle. "Come here." He'd pulled Justin close and kissed him.

They had made love slowly that night. Brian hadn't been able to keep his hands off Justin. He used them as he swept the hair from Justin's face and stroked them slowly down his back. He'd kissed and licked every inch of Justin's body trying to give him more reassurance through his touch. Spooning behind him, Brian had pulled Justin's back to his chest and slowly entered him.

"Love you, love you, love you, Brian," Justin had chanted softly.

Brian held the words to his heart, but he didn't know how to return them. Instead he used his body to say all the words he couldn't. He used his hands and lips to show Justin how he felt. They fell asleep still tangled together. And when Justin had shown Brian the sketch two days later, he knew Justin understood everything he had tried to say.

Brian tried not to dwell on never having told Justin he loved him. Justin felt it. He told Brian many times that he had no doubts about Brian's feelings for him. But it bothered him that he'd never been able to give him the words. He would never be able to change that.

He and Lindsay had picked a restaurant close enough to walk to the show. Autumn was just beginning in Pittsburgh, and it was a beautiful night.

"You remember Dana, don't you?" Lindsay chatted as they walked down the quiet street. "She's thriving at PIFA. Teaching at the community college was really draining her. I'm so excited for her."

Brian wondered bitterly if Dana had been given Justin's position. He'd never returned that call from PIFA so he had no idea how they found out Justin was never going to complete his employment file. It had been hard enough telling Michael Justin was dead. He couldn't imagine saying the words to a stranger. He changed the subject to distract himself from the irony that he was attending PIFA's art show featuring their new faculty members without Justin. "So why isn't your husband joining us tonight?

"Melanie," Lindsay emphasized the name, "is going with the kids and Michael to one of those pizza and game places. There is a similar place near our house in Toronto. She and Gus have an ongoing competition."

Even though they'd been gone for years, Brian still had a hard time believing Lindsay had just packed her family and moved to Canada. Surprisingly, it seemed to have been the right decision. "I knew I could count on Melanie to provide Gus with a strong masculine influence." He smirked at Lindsay starting an old argument for fun.

"Brian!" Lindsay slapped his arm lightly, but let it drop as they reached the gallery.

He shoved the flyer he was handed in his back pocket and headed for the bar. He enjoyed a few bottles of decent and free beer while waiting for Lindsay to stop gushing with her friend. Brian spent the next hour making the rounds with Lindsay. He paid only the barest attention to the art, instead occupying himself by looking for a decent trick. Finding no one worth pursuing, he excused himself for a quick cigarette.

When Brian stepped out the back door, there was only one other person out there smoking. The back of the blond's head was heartbreakingly familiar, but Brian didn't react. He learned months ago to stop reaching for strangers hoping they were Justin. But when the other man turned toward him, his heart stopped.

"Justin?" He reached out a shaking hand but was afraid to actually touch him. "You're dead."

"And you're an asshole." Justin glared at him before heading back into the gallery.

Brian stood there for several minutes frozen in place. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Justin wasn't real. He was dead, and Brian was losing his mind. He remembered the flyer he hadn't bothered looking at and pulled it from his pocket. There on the third page he found Justin's face. He didn't bother reading the bio, instead he just took a moment to confirm that it said "New professor Justin Taylor." He struggled to breathe. Somehow Justin was alive. He was in Pittsburgh, and Brian had to find him.

He was almost frantic by the time he reached Lindsay, terrified that Justin was already gone. "Lindsay, your friend will know him, won't she?" He pointed at Justin's picture holding it up in her face.

"I guess so, Brian." She pushed the paper away. "Why?"

"I have to talk to him. I need to you to find him for me and get him somewhere private. Tell him someone important needs to talk to him. Tell him anything, but don't mention me. I need to see him alone." Brian knew he sounded desperate and crazy, but he didn't care.

"Brian, what's going on?"

"I can't tell you now. There's no time. Just do this for me. Please." He'd beg if he had to.

Lindsay still looked concerned, but she nodded. "Stay here, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Brian spent the next ten minutes trying to convince himself Justin was real. None of this made sense, and he was afraid to hope. Finally Lindsay came back and gestured for Brian to follow her.

She led him down a quiet hallway and stopped in front of an office door. "He's in there. Brian, tell me I'm not going to regret this."

Brian hugged her hard. "I promise, Lindsay. I'll explain everything eventually, but I have to go to him."

She hugged him back before stepping aside and heading back to the show.

Leaning his head against the door, Brian tried to find the courage to open it. When he entered the room, Justin was sitting in a chair facing the door. Brian crossed the room quickly and fell to his knees in front of him.

"You're dead," he whispered in disbelief. His hands trembled when he finally let himself touch Justin's face. He was warm and real, but it was impossible to believe. "You're dead. They told me you were dead."

Justin pushed his hands away. "Brian, stop it. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Tell me you're real." Brian reached for him again. "Please just tell me this is real."

Justin's anger turned to confusion when he saw the tears on Brian's face. "Brian, I don't understand. You left me."

Brian heard the hurt in those last three words and guilt overwhelmed him. "I'm so sorry. They said you were dying. They wouldn't let me see you, and I couldn't stand to be there waiting for you to die. There was so much blood, you had to be dying." Brian ran his finger along Justin's temple as though searching for a wound.

"But you weren't there. We broke up, and when they told you I was hurt, you left anyway. You didn't care." Justin whispered the words he'd repeated to himself again and again until he had believed them.

"No Justin, it wasn't like that. I loved you; I love you, and I would never leave you like that. No matter what, you have to believe that." A noise in the hallway reminded Brian of where they were. "Come home with me," he said urgently. "We can't do this here. Someone could come in. Please just come home with me."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, just let me," he gestured to the door. "I have to tell them something."

"Me too. Meet me out front in five minutes. Promise me." On impulse he leaned forward and kissed Justin. It was a short kiss, but it was full of desperation and longing.

"I promise," Justin agreed, looking slightly dazed.

Once Justin left, Brian wiped his eyes and tried to compose himself before looking for Lindsay. He found her at the bar nervously watching the hallway.

"Lindsay, can you find your own way home?"

"Sure, Brian. Are you okay?" She studied his face closely.

For the first time Brian let himself smile. "I'm good, Lindsay. I think everything's finally going to be alright. But I need one more favor. I need a day with no visits, no calls, nothing. I know I had plans with Gus tomorrow, but I can't. Tell him I'm sorry, and I'll make it up to him. I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important. You know that. Tell everyone I'll make it to the diner for lunch Sunday. That way I can see him before you leave, but until then I need to be left alone. Will you do that?"

"You know I will. I love you, Brian, you know that."

Brain gave her a quick hug in acknowledgement and headed for the door. He let himself relax a little when he saw Justin waiting for him. "The car's this way." He put a gentle hand on Justin's back to guide him. Those were the only words spoken on the way to the loft. Brian had a hard time looking away from Justin to concentrate on the road. He was still too rattled for conversation.

Once they got to the loft Brian offered Justin a drink which he refused. As much as Brian wanted one, he knew he needed to be sober for whatever was to come.

Justin looked around before turning to Brian with a small smile. "It's just like you described." Justin wasn't sure what to think as he looked around the loft that was supposed to have been his home. He wanted to believe Brian. He wanted to believe Brian hadn't left him deliberately, that it had all been some kind of tragic misunderstanding, but he was so afraid. But he accepted the hand Brian held out for him.

"There's something I want you to see." He led Justin to the bedroom.

It was impossible to misunderstand what Brian wanted him to see. Justin stood in front of the painting he'd made for Brian a lifetime ago, hanging exactly like he imagined it, and his heart froze. He sat down heavily on the bed.

"Justin, what's wrong?" Brian sat down next to him confused by the fear he saw on Justin's face.

"I can't do that anymore." He pointed to the painting. "The way he hit me I should have died. There was brain damage. My right hand is permanently screwed up. I can't use it for long without it shaking and cramping up. I'll never be able to paint like that again."

"But you're teaching? And you had pieces in the show tonight?" Brian struggled to understand. He didn't have any idea what pieces had been Justin's, but obviously some had been.

"It's better than it was. There is a lot I can do using a computer, and I can draw for short periods of time now. It might even improve a little more, but it will never be like it was. It will never be like that." Justin pointed to the painting again.

"Do you think I fucking care about that? You're alive, and you're here. That's all that matters to me. I don't care if you ever pick up another paintbrush or pencil again." Brian made sure he looked Justin in the eye while speaking.

Justin shook his head. He hated saying all this, but Brian needed to know. "There's more. I'm not the same as I was before. I jump at loud noises, and crowds freak me out. I have headaches and nightmares. I'm not easy to be with."

Brian almost laughed because, Jesus, it wasn't like Brian had ever been easy to be with, but he knew Justin wouldn't understand. "I don't care," he insisted.

"But that's why you left. You knew I'd be damaged, and you left." It was the one fear he couldn't let go of.

"No, I never would have left if I'd known." Brian broke the polite distance they'd been keeping between him and ran his hands through Justin's hair and stroked his face before reaching for his hands. He needed to touch Justin. Justin has always understood his touch, and he wanted Justin to feel what he was saying. "I left because you were dead. There was a moment when I knew you were gone, and nothing can prepare you for that kind of pain. If I had any idea that you were alive, I would have stayed and found a way to be with you. Having you back is a miracle I'm still not sure I can believe in. I love you; that hasn't changed. I told you before that I wanted you with me as long as that was what you wanted. That hasn't changed either." Brian was prepared to repeat this over and over until Justin believed him.

Justin threw himself into Brian's arms. "God, Brian, I didn't know what to believe. I loved you so much, but you were gone. When I woke up, and they said you had left me, I didn't want to believe them. But you weren't there."

"I'm sorry, so sorry," Brian said as he kissed away Justin's tears. He wondered if they could ever completely heal the wounds their separation had left. He kissed Justin gently and felt his heart swell when Justin kissed him back. They shared several soft kisses and light touches before Justin pulled back.

"We can have this again, can't we? It's not too late?" Justin let himself hope for the first time since he had learned Brian was gone.

"It's never too late. I love you." Brian had a feeling he'd be saying that a lot the next few days. He needed to say it as much as he was sure Justin needed to hear it. He was rewarded with a real smile from Justin.

"I love you too. Even when I wanted to hate you, I still loved you."

Justin's words freed a pain in Brian even he hadn't realized the depths of. Full of relief and joy, his smile rivaled Justin's brightest. But it dimmed slightly at Justin's next words.

"Tell me what happened that night. I don't remember it or the two weeks before it really. I was always afraid to ask, but I want to know."

Brian nodded reluctantly. He never wanted to talk about that night, but for Justin he would try. "Let's get more comfortable. This might take a while." He moved to sit at the top of the bed leaning against the headboard. Justin settled against his chest.

Brian felt better with Justin in his arms. He stroked his hair and back, while he talked, needing the physical connection to remind himself that Justin was alive. "You remember you had a show right before I was supposed to leave."

Justin nodded. "I remember getting ready for it, but not the actual show."

"You were a huge success. Everything went perfectly. I was going back to the hotel before you. I had a celebration planned and needed to get a few things ready. You walked me to the car, and then went back to finish up. I was watching you in the mirror when I saw someone approaching you. Then I saw the bat. I tried to warn you. I tried to stop him, but I was too late." Brian stopped and took a few deep breaths. This was even harder than he'd thought.

Justin reached up and laid his hand on Brian's face. "It's alright. It wasn't your fault."

It was strange to be receiving comfort from Justin, but it helped. Brian squeezed Justin's hand before continuing. "You fell, and there was so much blood. I called for an ambulance, and I held your hand while we waited. I told you that you had to live. I fucking begged you to be okay. I promised I would stay with you. And I did until we got to the hospital. Then they took you away."

"I'm here now," Justin reassured him quietly.

"The doctor came out and said…" Brian swallowed hard. "He said you only had a few hours left, that there was nothing they could do. Craig was there by then, and he wouldn't let me see you. That's when I left. I couldn't stay there in that building waiting for you to die and not be allowed to be with you. So I left. God, if only I had stayed."

"It's not your fault. My parents," Justin said darkly shaking his head. He couldn't believe how they had betrayed him. What they had put both himself and Brian through. He couldn't imagine ever forgiving them.

"Don't think about them. They don't matter here. When I left the hospital, I just kept going. I couldn't go back to the hotel without you. At the moment I told you about, when I knew you were gone, I made myself forget. I spent a long time pretending you never happened. It was the only way I could handle it." That was as much of the truth as he could give Justin now. He'd tell him the rest later, but it wasn't important at this moment.

"I'm so sorry I believed them. I knew something was wrong, but I let them talk me into believing you didn't care."

"You had enough to deal with. But how did you end up here?" Brian figured that was a safer question, and one he really did want an answer to.

"For some reason, no one called PIFA to tell them what happened. They called a few months after I was released to offer me housing. I was really depressed at the time, and my mother was driving me nuts. Suddenly it seemed like the perfect way out. I worked my ass off trying to get well enough to take the job. I finally had something to work for. Also, I kept telling myself I couldn't let you take the job away from me too." Justin knew his anger at Brian stemmed from hurt, and it felt good to let all that go.

"Christ, Justin, if I hadn't gone to the show tonight we would have continued living in the same city, but a million miles apart. I never would have known you were alive." It would have been so easy to go one believing Justin was dead. Their reunion was due to nothing more than chance. The thought filled Brian with dread.

"I would have shown up at your door eventually, demanding answers. No matter what I told myself, I always intended to see you again. I couldn't let go without you telling me in person it was over." It was the first time Justin has admitted that, but he knew it was true.

Brian held Justin a little tighter thankful they'd somehow found each other. "Tell me what happened to you. Your recovery and what you still need." There was so much Brian didn't know about how Justin came to be in his arms.

"Not tonight. We have plenty of time, right?" Justin smiled when Brian nodded. He turned so he was facing Brian directly. Looking in his eyes, he said seriously, "I want to be with you again. I want you inside me. I want to feel whole again."

"Are you sure?" Brian asked, wanting desperately to give that to Justin, but not wanting to hurt him.

Any doubts Justin might have had were banished by the love and desire he saw in Brian's eyes. "This is what I want," he assured Brian before kissing him.

They spent the rest of the night showing each other how they felt. They relearned each other's bodies slowly and thoroughly. Their touches had a reverence that hadn't been there before. Each kiss held a little more meaning. And when Brian finally entered Justin's body, their eyes glittered with a few tears. As they lay together afterward, they whispered promises and reassurances.

*****

The day of peace Brian had asked for was granted. He and Justin spent Saturday becoming comfortable with each other again. They talked about where their lives had taken them since their separation. They talked about the future they thought was lost, and how they could make a new one together. More conscious now of how fragile their happiness was, they shared their feelings more openly and easily.

By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Brian was willing if not exactly eager to share Justin with everyone else.

"Are you sure this is still a good idea?" Justin asked nervously as they approached the diner. "Given the circumstances maybe it would be better to gradually ease them into the idea of me."

"It will be fine. Trust me with this group, it's better to get it over with at once." Brian stopped and gave him a deep kiss. "For luck," he whispered. "Besides, I've had this day planned for a long time."

"Drama queen," Justin teased, forcing himself to relax.

When they entered the diner, Brian easily spotted his family. The whole gang including Hunter, Carl, Gus, and J.R. were crowded into two back booths. Debbie abandoned her customers mid order once she saw Brian and moved to stand next to Michael. Brian wrapped his arm around Justin and confidently approached the group.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet my partner, Justin Taylor. After an unexpected delay, he has finally joined me here from San Francisco." He waited through the first beat of silence for pandemonium to break out.

Ted and Melanie's jaws hit the table. Emmett started clapping. Debbie shouted questions at him, while Lindsay gave him a knowing look. The others talked among themselves. Justin moved a bit closer to Brian while he tried to take it all in. Brian kissed the side of his head, and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, they don't bite. Well, except for Melanie, but you're not her type."

The unexpected display of tenderness temporarily silenced the group again.

"Hey, Dad, where were you yesterday?"

Gus's question broke the tension, and everyone began talking again. Justin was startled, but pleased when Michael stood up and greeted him with a hug. He quickly introduced everyone to Justin and pulled a chair up for him.

An hour later, Brian sat back contently and watched Justin charm each one of them. He wasn't sure what Michael or Lindsay might have said before they arrived, but they were all on their best behavior. They kept the questions basic and didn't push for more. He knew they would want more answers eventually, but today was time to welcome Justin into his crazy, screwed up family. The hard truths could wait.

He felt more than heard Justin laugh at something Emmett said. Brian had quickly commandeered the chair meant for Justin, and pulled Justin into his lap. He thought they could both use the contact. Brian knew they still had a lot to work through and figure out, but he was confident they could do it. Justin was alive, and for the first time in months, Brian was looking forward to the future.

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