Emotional Confrontation

“I had a for shit day. I need to go out.” Brian then moved into the bedroom to change clothes. Justin opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. He took the time to process what Brian said. Brian admitted to having a bad day. Most of the time he wouldn’t have given Justin that much. By the time Justin decided on a course of action, Brian was in the shower. Justin removed his clothes and stepped in behind Brian. The older man looked at him over his shoulder for a minute before handing Justin the soap.

“What happened?” Justin asked as he gently washed Brian’s back.

“Hmm?” Brian asked.

“You said you had a for shit day. What happened?” Justin asked again. They didn’t often ask about each other’s days. Justin would rant, Brian would listen, life would go on. If Brian were particularly annoyed about work, he’d rant as soon as he came in the door. If the loft were empty when he got home he’d shower, smoke for a while, then all would be forgotten. Brian was about to shrug Justin off. He didn’t really want to talk about it. Especially with Justin. He decided, however, since Justin made the effort, he’d give it a shot.

“Ben’s in the hospital.” His voice was soft and almost inaudible under the water. Justin had been slowly working his way down Brian’s back but he stopped.

“Is he okay?” Concern was very evident in his voice.

“Not sure,” Brian answered honestly.

“What’s wrong?”

“From what I understand it’s pancreatitis caused by some of his meds.” He turned around to look at Justin at that point. Worry showed in the frown and slightly wrinkled brow. Justin then looked Brian in the eye for a minute.

“That’s not all that’s bothering you, is it?” Justin asked. Brian did shrug this off. He didn’t need to get into this. Not now and not with Justin. He turned the water off and went into the bedroom to get dressed. “Brian…” Justin said as he followed. Brian’s back was to him so he walked over and laid his hand gently on Brian’s still damp skin. Brian stopped, then turned and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh. Might as well get this over with or Justin would be pestering him all night.

“When Mikey called me, I went to the hospital. I stayed there with him all afternoon in the same fucking chairs…” he trailed off as his voice started to shake. He didn’t need to break down right now. He didn’t need to break down at all. He took a slow, deep breath to calm himself. “I kept thinking about…” he had to stop again. If he said it his walls would come crashing down and he didn’t want that.

“The bashing,” Justin said more than asked and Brian nodded. Justin sat beside Brian and started to gently rub his back. “You know, it’s okay to have feelings. I realize it makes you human and for some reason you think you’re above that but it really it's okay.”

“Not these feelings.” Brian took another slow, deep breath. He hated thinking about it but it just kept coming back to haunt him. He wanted to scream but he didn’t. He swallowed that along with everything else. Justin watched him for a minute.

“You know, Brian, whether you believe it or not it really is okay to cry.” He knew that Brian would deny it but Justin could practically see the unshed tears forming in Brian’s eyes. From what Michael had told him, Brian hadn’t shown any real reaction since that first night. There was the time in the parking garage when Justin was trying to remember what happened, but he’d never really let everything out.

“Why? What’s the point? It won’t change anything. Crying won’t make Ben better. It won’t turn back the clock. Crying won’t make it so that I reacted in time to stop that fucking bat…” He took a deep, shuddering breathing and sniffled, mentally cursing his inability to stay in control. He didn’t want to cry. It’d been drilled into him since he was little that real men don’t cry. The problem was that he was very slowly losing the war that he was currently waging against his tear ducts. Justin remained quiet, simply rubbing Brian’s back. Nothing he said could convince the man that the bashing wasn’t his fault. Brian would forever blame himself and that broke Justin’s heart.

“It does help,” he said finally. Brian looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Brian, holding everything inside is very unhealthy. Crying helps you get everything out. When I’m upset about something I always think more rationally about the situation after a good cry. I know it sounds strange, but it’s true.”

“That’s you,” Brian said before getting up and going to get a drink.

“Don’t tell me you don’t cry. Michael told me about after your dad died,” Justin commented as he followed.

“Fucking Mikey, can’t keep his mouth shut.” Brian shook his head before taking a gulp of Beam. The slow burn down to his stomach relieved the stinging behind his eyes. “That was different.”

“How?”

“That was twenty-nine years of abuse and hatred and fear finally being released. That was realizing that I was forever free of the bastard and I didn’t have to be afraid anymore. I don’t have to deal with his shit anymore.” Brian took another swallow of bourbon.

“That was a lot of pain that needed to get out so you let it out, right?” Justin asked.

“Right,” Brian agreed.

“So how is it different? There’s a lot of pain involved with the bashing. Pain and guilt that you’ve been holding inside for all this time that needs to get out.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” Justin asked. Brian sighed and put his glass down. He couldn’t believe that he’d actually been having a conversation regarding his feelings but it did feel good in a way.

“Because no amount of crying is going to change the fact that it could happen again. It’s not going to change the fact that Chris Hobbs nearly killed you and got off with community service. It won’t change the fact that homophobia still exists and we’ll probably never live to see the day that it doesn’t. No amount of crying is going to change the fact that my son is going to be treated the same way you and I are, simply because his parents are gay, whether he’s gay or straight. Crying won’t change the fucking world, Justin.” They were both quiet for several minutes. Justin continued to look Brian in the eye. He saw guilt and pain and fear amongst the hazel. He hated that there was nothing he could do about it.

“You’re right. Crying won’t change the world. It won’t change any of that. And heaven forbid Brian Kinney ever show any kind of emotion other than anger, right? You’re a heartless bastard that doesn’t feel anything for anybody but yourself, so why bother trying to feel anything at all?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“You never say anything you don’t mean, Brian. You’ve said it countless times yourself. Say what you mean.”

“Crying has never made the hurt go away. When I was a kid I used to cry all the time. When my parents told me they didn’t want me. When they said they never loved me, I cried. It never made me feel any better because deep down I still knew that they didn’t love me. The same goes with this. Crying is not going to do anything for me because I will always be angry that the fucker got off with a slap on the wrist, and I will always have the image in my head of that bat hitting you. I will always feel like I could have stopped it if I’d just been fast enough. Showing emotion is not going to change the fact that I will forever feel like it was my fucking fault. Like if I hadn’t been there….if we hadn’t danced and kissed in front of everyone then it never would have happened.” He took a deep, shaky breath, tears once again forming in his eyes.

Justin walked over and hugged Brian, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight. Brian rested his head on Justin’s shoulder and hugged back as if he never meant to let go. Justin reached up and started stroking Brian’s hair, whispering soothingly in his ear that it wasn’t his fault. Justin said things like “I love you” and other such comforting terms trying to get Brian to understand that he didn’t blame him for what happened. After only a couple of minutes, Brian’s shoulders started to shake as he lost control of his emotions, and tears started pouring down his cheeks.

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