Disclaimer: I do not own Queer as Folk or any of the characters, they belong to Showtime and Cowlip. I also do not own the song "Proud," by Heather Small.
Just a little something I thought up in 5 minutes after watching Season 4, episode 6. "What if" fic. Enjoy x
Two weeks.
No one had seen Justin for two weeks. No one tried to bother him, even his own mother kept her distance. It had been two weeks.
Two weeks.
They'd all stood, gathered around, offering condolences to each other. It was raining, of course it would be raining, how could God not know what had happened?
It had been a day of events.
Lindsay had been standing, not knowing what to do with herself, she couldn't talk and she couldn't speak, all she could do was hold Gus close, and stare into his big, hazel eyes.
Debbie was definitely the most emotional, and she had told God that if he didn't take good care of her baby, then she'd be coming up there personally.
God would do well to heed the warning.
Michael's legs could no longer support his body, he sat on the wet grass and watched as everything he had ever known and loved was lowered down away from him, there was no life in Michael's eyes any more.
The "real" family stood to the back, watching carefully, and maybe, if one looked close enough, a tear might have been seen falling from his mothers eye.
It had been two weeks.
Two weeks since Brian Kinney's funeral.
Two weeks since Justin had the seen the only man he would ever love for the last time, two weeks since he'd run a hand over Brian's lifeless form, and his hands hadn't stopped shaking, two weeks since Justin had banned the sad, sombre violin music from being played during Brian's last.
Brian would have never wanted violin music, why on Earth did any one think Brian would want violin music to be the last thing people heard while they remembered him?
And as the strength in everyone's life disappeared, the emotion ran far deeper as Michael played Brian's last song.
I step out of the ordinary, I can feel my soul ascending...
And so, it had been two weeks. Everyone contemplated going to see Justin, and everyone thought he would just need time. No one had sent flowers, Brian Kinney would have laughed at flowers.
The cancer had taken him, in the end, one fateful night nearly two years ago Brian and Justin had received the phone call. It was a miracle that Brian had gotten this long.
But Brian Kinney was a fighter, he always had been, because he had never had anyone else to fight for him.
Justin had watched Brian sleep every single night for two years, praying that he could take his place.
And as Justin lay alone in Brian's bed in Brian's loft, wearing only Brian's shirt, he couldn't move and he couldn't think and he could barely breathe. He'd been lying there for two weeks, alone and trembling.
He could still feel Brian there with him.
It's okay, Sunshine... Brian would say, stroking Justin's hair, you don't have to go back to them, just stay here with me, I'll always protect you, I love you...
Deep down in Justin's heart, he knew that Brian wasn't there, and he also knew that Brian would want him to carry on. He would tell Justin if he couldn't find what he wanted here, then he should just go find it some place else.
Justin also knew that Brian Kinney had made him promise that when he left, he wanted Justin to go on, and be happy.
I don't want you to go, Justin had sobbed into Brian's chest.
I know, Sunshine, Brian had cried, I know.
Brian had promised Justin that no matter where he was, he would watch over Justin and keep him safe, but he hadn't.
Brian was gone, he was just gone and Justin was all alone.
Justin knew he would be alone for the rest of his life.
So when these false words and false visions of Brian came to him, he accepted them gladly, it masked the pain of how much he wanted his Brian to come back to him.
No excuses. No apologies. No regrets.
Those were the words Justin Taylor told himself as he allowed his mind to succumb to his memories.