It had been brutally humid again today, and too much heat and coffee combined with too little sleep and food had left Brian feeling like crap. He decided to take the afternoon off in an attempt to dismiss his rotten headache. However he stopped by Sappho Central first to help Lindsay as promised. At least Melanie hadn't been home.

Lindsay had tried to be sweet with her suggestions, but Brian knew it was futile. Given his role in Justin's near death experience, Jennifer Taylor had every right to banish him from her son's life. As much as he might want to see Justin, to assure himself that the kid was well and help him if he could, Brian knew it wasn't going to happen. He appreciated that Lindsay simply made her point and then mercifully let the matter drop.

When he got home, Brian wanted simply to shed his suit, have a long cool shower and then call over some willing, anonymous ass. But he didn't. He remained clothed for work because he had the feeling that there'd be one more meeting today and he didn't expect it to go well.

He'd been right, of course. Upon checking in with Cynthia, he discovered that in addition to the two messages left on his cell, Justin had called the office not long ago and Brian's unwitting assistant had advised him that the man was working from home this afternoon. So, as might be expected, Justin pounded on the loft door about half an hour later.

Even if the kid's mother had instructed him to stay away, Brian knew the blond had a mind of his own and would do as he wished. Judging from the confused expression, however, it appeared that she'd not said a thing yet and that chore remained Brian's by default.

It hadn't been pretty and Brian could offer no explanation to the boy when he pounded the door and demanded "why?". The truth was that he yearned to do the same; beat his fists and rail against the unfairness of it all. Instead, Brian simply stood there leaning on the door to his loft, feeling the cold steel against his forehead and wishing that numb sensation would work its way down to his heart. He was sure he was going to be sick and was vaguely afraid to move.

But eventually he did. Once he heard Justin stop and sit down on the stairs, Brian moved to the phone and hit a speed dial that Justin had programmed on it months ago. Fortunately Brian had never removed it.

"Hello?"

"Daphne, its Brian."

"Uh… hi Brian." Daphne greeted him… not unpleasantly surprised to hear from him, but surprised nonetheless. She didn't think he'd ever called her before.

"I need you to do me a favor." He got straight to the point.

"Right now?" She questioned. "I'm just in the car on my way to pick up a friend, we're going…"

"Justin needs you." Brian interrupted. "All you have to do is drive him home. He'll likely be just outside my loft on the stairs – the door code is 347."

"Where are you, Brian?" She was confused. "Why can't you just take him home?"

He liked her, but didn't want to get into this with anyone. "Daphne, just please come and get him and drop him off. He's upset."

"Okay, I'll be there in five or ten."

"Thanks." He hung up on the confused girl without saying goodbye, and headed back to listen for any further sound from the hall. There were none until about eight minutes later, when he heard the door open downstairs. If it was Daphne then she'd remembered the code; he hadn't wanted to deal with buzzing her in.

"Justin?" Brian heard her voice now, just near the top of the stairs. "Are you all right?"

"What are you doing here?" Justin softly questioned in response

"Brian called me." She admitted. "What's going on?"

"He fucking threw me out, that's what's going on."

"What happened?" She was still trying to figure out why she was here. "He didn't say anything except that you were upset and I had to come get you."

"I don't know what happened." The blond told her desperately. "I don't know."

"Come on." Daphne urged him. "My car is right in front of the building and there's hardly anybody around. Why don't we get out of here and talk, okay?"

There was a moment of hesitation and then Justin's defeated, "Okay" was the last sound Brian heard until the door shut behind them downstairs.

It wasn't the last Daphne heard though.

"It just doesn't make sense." He repeated for the umpteenth time, and she had to agree with him.

"Look, I'll call September and cancel… she'll understand. Then we can keep working on this."

"No, go to the movie." Justin told her. "I'll be fine."

He wasn't anywhere near fine, which is precisely why he wanted to be alone for awhile. He needed to get a grip on his anxiety level before he tried to think very hard about any of this. He refused to resort to one of those stupid pills; they left him feeling kind of numb and that was almost as scary.

"Are you sure?" Daphne got his attention again. "Because I don't mind at all."

"Thanks anyway." He told her as they rolled up to the condo. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay." She agreed. "But call me if you need me – I'll have my cell on vibrate and I'll step out and call you right back."

He walked up to the door and let himself in, locking it behind him again and heading upstairs. As he dropped his keys on the landing and made his way up the second flight to his room, he was relieved that he had the place to himself for a little while. He'd have a few minutes at least to calm down before his sister and his mother got home. Right now, his mom would take one look at him and know something was… Justin froze in the hall outside his room, the force of the revelation prompting his pause.

It was his mother. His goddamn mother and her I'd like to speak to Brian bit from the other day. She'd fucking spoken to him all right. Justin figured that bat must have knocked a few screws loose, or he would have seen it sooner. She must have told Brian to leave him alone. He knew it. He could feel it. The fury and despair washed over him in a wave of red that left him unable to see anything but the hopeless disaster his life was now.

"I thought you never wanted me to see him again."

"I don't." She confirmed. "But um… if I'm ever going to… see my son even remotely resemble the person he was… I don't have a choice."

So she still thought he was all wrong for Justin, but wanted him to take the kid anyway. The very fact that she was so desperate as to even consider it made Brian realize that this situation was almost certainly out of his league.

"What about a therapist?"

"I've begged him to go." Jennifer emphatically assured him.

"And?"

"And… I quote… 'Brian says therapy is for losers looking for someone to blame for their fucked up life.'"

Bitch. "Ah… one more thing that's my fault – why not." Brian sighed heavily. "Look, I do think it's crap – under normal circumstances, but this is so far removed from normal it isn't funny. So fine… I'll convince him to go."

"It's not that simple."

Brian merely raised an eyebrow – all the encouragement he was willing to give her.

"It's nothing like what I expected… I don't even know what I expected if I'm being honest…" Jennifer took a deep breath. "Brian, I don't think I can do it; I'm not sure I can handle him after all." She exhaled in relief at having got the humiliating statement over with.

The relief was short lived, however, as Brian simply stood there and offered nothing by way of reply.

She faced the man who, next to her ex-husband, she'd least like to be vulnerable in front of and demanded. "Do you have any idea what it cost me to tell you that?"

"Do you have any idea how little I care?" Brian snapped back. He couldn't believe the utter audacity of this woman. Why should he give a flying fuck how all this impacted her? He didn't, and furthermore, she could take her problems and shove them… oh great… those weren't tears were they? He certainly should not be expected to deal rationally with this. He spoke just before she got to the door. "Wait." He walked over and handed her a box of Kleenex. "Jesus – just tell me what's going on."

Jennifer accepted the tissues and took one out, then put the box on the table. She made a few delicate dabs at her face and spoke. "He's always had a short temper… been a little oversensitive at times, but nothing like this… and he'd all but grown out of it, anyway." The words tumbled out in a nervous rush. "But ever since… well, he just flies off the handle at anything… gets completely out of control and aggressive and…" She hesitated a second. "I'm afraid to have Molly around him right now."

"Justin would never hurt his sister." Brian was immediately, and curiously, defensive. "I can't fucking believe you'd suggest that."

"And you think I can? " The woman's voice cracked with emotion, but she calmed herself slightly and tried to continue. "I don't believe he'd hurt her exactly, but you have no idea how upsetting it is for her to be around this. She doesn't understand, and… I have two children – I need to think of both of them."

"Well, Justin has two parents… or at least Molly does. Can't she stay with her father for awhile? Until things settle down?"

"It's not only that, Brian. Even if Craig weren't being the colossal asshole that he is… I don't just worry about Molly – I'm not sure that I can handle him." She realized how that sounded and tried to explain. "Not that he'd hurt me, but I'm afraid I can't keep him from hurting himself."

"Something happened." It wasn't a question.

Jennifer cleared her throat and walked over to the kitchen where Brian had again set up camp. "Do you think I could have a drink?"

"Umm…sure. Evian? Soda?" He opened the refrigerator.

"Maybe something a little stronger, if you have it."

Brian shut the fridge door, raised his brow in mocking and surprise, but pulled out the bottle of Beam, as well as two glasses, and poured them each some.

Jennifer picked up a shot, and downed a third of it, making a face immediately afterwards… a sight that amused Brian slightly. "I assume Justin came to see you today." She held the glass to her chest with both hands, as though it was full of holy water rather than of whiskey.

"He told you?"

"No, but clearly he knew that I'd asked you to stay away from him." She took another drink, grimacing a bit less now that she knew what to expect. "It's not just that he was angry; I could understand that…"

"Yeah." Brian couldn't resist. "Me too."

Jennifer gave him what tried to be a condemning glare, but came off only as exasperated. "It was his expression of it." She continued. "It was like he had no idea how to cope with it or what to do with himself. When Molly and I came home he was tearing his room apart, destroying everything he could get his hands on. Things that I know meant the world to him… his pictures, which God knows if he'll ever be able to draw again." She trailed off into sniffles and sought out the Kleenex box once more.

Mentioning the loss of Justin's artistic abilities, his only passion besides Brian, was unbearable to the man. So Brian didn't think about it. What he did instead, was notice how like his mother Justin was in some ways. No wonder he was a drama princess – his mommy was the queen. "Anything else?"

She pulled herself together a little. "He wouldn't listen to me – it was like he couldn't even hear me. When I touched him, he just lashed out blindly."

"He hit you?!"

"No, no! Not exactly... he just… shoved me a little." She dismissed the incident except for what it meant about her son's state of mind. "That wasn't even what was so disturbing, although it is completely out of character. No, it was what he said."

"Which was?"

"Basically that his life was over and he wished… he wished that boy had killed him." She broke down into a weepy whisper. "I don't know what to try next. Debbie suggested I talk to you… I'm sorry, I just don't…" She all but wrung her hands.

Brian sighed. "When should I come for him?"

"Really?" She looked up, relief evident in her voice.

"Of course." Like he had a choice.

Her expression lightened visibly. "I really appreciate this Brian, I … "

"It's not for you, so don't thank me." He cautioned. "And don't agree yet either, because if he stays with me, then I'm in charge." He stared at her intently and spelled it out. "If he's as difficult as you say, then he can only be answering to one person and that person will be me for as long as he's recuperating here. Can you live with that?"

She nodded her agreement. "As long as it's working, and as long as I know everything that's going on."

Brian's smirk suggested to her that it might be preferable to remain ignorant of some things.

She colored slightly and he could see that blushing was another trait Justin shared with his mother. "Within reason." She clarified.

"Deal." He clinked his drink against hers, and they both knocked back the contents.

Jennifer put her empty glass on the counter and sat on one of the stools beside it. She sighed again.

"Want another?" Brian offered, as he poured one for himself.

"I have to drive back soon." Brian assumed it meant she needed one, but had responsibilities waiting. After tomorrow, according to the agreement they'd just made, so would he. For a while, at least. He tossed back his shot in one go and put the glass down, resisting the impulse to fill it again, lest the pristine Mrs. Taylor re-think her desperate plea for help, and rescind Brian's chance for redemption.

"So, when should I come get him?" He asked again.

"Tomorrow, anytime after three?" She suggested. "He'll be back from physio by then."

"Where is he now?"

"At the condo with Debbie." She confirmed Brian's suspicions. "He's not too bad around her or Vic, so between the three of us – we can keep an eye on him when you're busy… though he can be alone for short periods of time. Molly is home too obviously and I didn't know how long I'd be and Debbie offered to let me get out for awhile."

"Does she know you're here?"

"No." She said after a moment. "She suggested it a few days ago, but I told her that I thought… well, that I wasn't sure it was a good idea."

Brian snorted. "And you're still not."

"I didn't want it to be necessary for him to need anyone but me." She clarified. "But I didn't know how hard it would be. That I'd be the sort of mother who couldn't take care of her child."

Brian wished his own mother had shown a fraction of the concern for his well being that Jennifer showed for Justin's. And it made him a little kinder than usual. "It sounds like you're doing the best you can." He offered. "You put his interests before your comfort level, which makes you a mother who is taking care of her child."

She gave a weak smile in thanks. Given his often caustic demeanor, she had wondered what, besides the obvious, drew her sensitive son to this man. She would admit he had some charm when he cared to use it, but it was seldom seen.

Brian continued. "And he isn't a baby, so if you're treating him like one, it's no fucking wonder you're having trouble."

"He isn't." She agreed. "I know that. He's always been mature for his age and you wouldn't believe the frighteningly insightful things he'd say as a child."

"Well, he's still precocious as far as I can tell." Brian's smile widened when he noticed Jennifer blush again. She gave a little laugh however, apparently un-offended.

But then she stopped smiling. "I should warn you that he is truly behaving unreasonably at times, Brian."

"How is that different from usual?" The man asked. "Technically he's still a teenager – aren't they all unreasonable?"

"Not like this." She told him. "There are tantrums, irrational reactions to normal mistakes… yesterday he was furious because I forgot to buy chocolate milk in the carton instead of the mix to make it yourself." She shook her head. "Later when I brought him what he'd wanted, he said it didn't matter. Almost like he had no memory of throwing the mix in the garbage and storming up to his room."

"What does the doctor say?"

"That they're temporary outbursts stemming from the attack. Since he hasn't consciously processed that event, he has nowhere to direct this anger and it just kind of leaks out when ever."

"You mentioned nightmares – same explanation?"

"More or less."

"Does he say what they're about?"

"No. He won't talk about it."

Brian digested that. "Anything else?"

She stood up and pulled a folded paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

"What's this?" He opened it and glanced down.

"I made a list of anything different in his behavior, as well as his medication instructions and his physio appointments this month."

"You must have been awfully sure I'd agree." Brian was mildly put out at his apparent predictability.

"You had to." She told him.

"And why is that?"

"Because if you hadn't… I didn't know what I was going to do." She again looked a bit desperate.

Brian met her eyes and nodded, then returned his gaze to the list.

She cleared her throat and tried to regain a little control. "So what time after three is good for you?"

"Have him ready for five-thirty." Brian told her. "But don't tell him much until I get there."

"All right." She got up and walked to the door, not questioning his request, just relieved that someone else was sharing the responsibility for a change. "Brian." Jennifer turned around, so desperate for reassurance that she was now grateful for, instead of annoyed by, his overconfident air. Clearly this was a man who could handle anything, and he'd think of some way to help her son. "He is... he is going to get better, isn't he?"

"He has to." Came the familiar reply.

She merely nodded and went out and down the stairs, anxious to walk off some of this nervous energy.

Brian shut the door and leaned his head against it a moment. "Because if he doesn't…" He whispered.

When he arrived at the condo the next day, Justin was waiting for him on the steps. "We're really going out for dinner?" He asked nervously, not even mentioning their encounter of the day before. "I thought my mom was just up to something weird."

"We're going to my place and ordering in." Brian corrected him. "Then you'll be staying with me for a little while."

"Really?" Justin's face had lit up.

For that moment… for that one second before he'd begun to see proof of Justin's puzzling changes, Brian had thought things might be okay after all.

"It's not okay."

Brian didn't say anything for a moment. What could he say? The kid was right; this wasn't even in the same zipcode as okay "All right, no… it isn't." He agreed and chanced putting a hand on Justin's shoulder. Though he felt the shiver, he was relieved not to be rebuffed entirely. "But it will be."

"You don't know that." Justin shook his head in defeat; an attitude Brian had never seen the kid display. Not in all the time he'd known him.

"I do know that." He moved forward and tried to meet the empty blue eyes. "Justin, look at me - I know it." He said earnestly. "I've never lied to you and I'm not planning to start now, okay?"

Maybe it was Brian's imagination, but he liked to think those clouded eyes became just a little clearer with his reassurance. "Okay." Justin agreed quietly.

"Let's just get some sleep. It was stupid to get into anything today… it's been hot as hell, not to mention busy, and I'm fucking exhausted myself. I could use an early night."

"I'm sorry." The young man offered meekly.

"What for?" Brian scoffed. "It isn't you… I just had a long week – those two morons at work that I told you about are driving me fucking nuts. I just know they're going to screw up one of my bigger accounts."

"Oh… good." Justin was relieved. "I mean… well not good but…"

"I know what you mean." He smiled a little, but was feigning amusement. The old Justin would have seen through the pathetic lie and laughed at Brian for trying it. But then, the old Justin would've been begging for Brian's touch, instead of being unsettled by it.

It occurred to him that the kid must be pretty wound up from the day, as well as recent events. "Here." He reached beside the bed for one of the bottles Jennifer Taylor had supplied him with. "You should take one of these."

"Brian, I fucking hate those things. I'll pass out for like… 10 hours."

"Really?" The man squinted at the label. "Christ, then I'll take one. I need the sleep."

Justin scowled at him. "Knock it off… you know they're prescription."

"There's my little public service announcement."

"Fuck you." Its harshness was tempered by the hint of a smile.

"In your dreams…" Brian teased gently. "Now just take this, okay? You need the sleep, too."

Justin did as he was told, then Brian moved his magazine and lay next to the kid, not touching him, but remaining nearby. And though he had no intention of sleeping, he must have drifted a little bit, because he'd been startled to feel a slight movement near his hand. It was Justin's. A couple of his fingers just curled around Brian's and stayed there. Not even clasped, but close to one another… close enough to grab on if needed. Brian left them like that until Justin's breathing indicated slumber.

He slipped quietly out of the bed and sat on the edge just watching the blond inhale and exhale in equal measure. This was a nightly ritual for him still, even though he'd not been free to do it since Justin had been released. He'd missed it. Not the part where he had to do it through hospital glass, but the part where he got to see Justin breathing, and know that he was safe.

Safe, but not well. Despite all protestations to the contrary, there was indeed something wrong with Justin besides his so-called gimp hand, and Brian knew it was up to him to fix it whether he knew how or not. Though he certainly did not, he had an idea who might.

"Brian?" Vic announced himself quietly.

"Hey." Came a response from the dimly lit living room. "Come on in."

Vic made his way over to the area in front of the TV. "Anything good on?"

"No, but there's some porn under the DVD player. Go nuts."

"I can't enjoy it without popcorn." Vic deadpanned. "Don't worry - I'm sure I can amuse myself while you go do whatever you have to do."

Brian noted that Vic hadn't even asked him why he was needed to keep an eye on Justin. "Aren't you going to hassle me about going out to get my dick sucked?"

"She's my sister… not my speech writer." Vic reminded him, as he sat down. "And it's none of my business where you're going. You asked if I could help you out… and I can help you out."

"Thanks." He smiled somewhat sheepishly. Vic was always cool about things and Brian wished again that the man had lived in Pittsburgh when he'd been growing up.

"Besides." Vic commented. "We could all use a good blowjob."

Brian laughed quietly. "No shit." He sobered a little and told Vic the truth. "I'm going to see an old trick who also happens to be a psychiatrist… as well as a fellow alumni."

Vic was merely concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Not entirely." Brian admitted ruefully. "But I'm going to talk to him about Justin…since the kid refuses to go."

"Ah… shrink by proxy."

"Something like that, I guess."

"So it's pretty bad, then?"

"It's pretty bad." Brian agreed and then stood up. "I better get going. I said I'd be there by 11:30."

"It'll be fine, Brian."

"I hope so."

Fine, according to the shrink, was having Justin relive what had to be the most painful event of his life, literally and figuratively. Frankly it sounded insane, but he trusted Scott – the guy had taken his vocation very seriously when they were at school and had studied hard, without being a hermit about it. They'd been to a few of the same parties, and in a couple of the same classes, though Scott was a year ahead. Brian had indeed fucked him once, but had been willing to put out again if that were the going rate for this kind of therapy. Fortunately, Scott remained a decent guy and had given him an out.

After sending Vic home in a cab at 1:30, Brian got undressed and went to bed. He needed to think about all that Scott had told him, and figure out how to make Justin remember. The blond was still out and Brian soon joined him in sleep. He hadn't lied earlier – it had seemed like a very long day indeed and he could do with some uninterrupted rest.

He didn't get it.

Brian felt his companion flailing before he heard him cry out, and he was sitting up before he even realized what was going on. He watched Justin try to defend himself against an attack he couldn't even remember, and which took who knew what terrible form in his dreams.

He called the boy's name a few times to no avail, then lightly shook him until the youth sat up with a jerk, struggling to catch his breath. Brian knew he saw streaks of tears, but Justin quickly wiped them away, clearly not wishing comment on them

"Are you all right?" Brian asked calmly, trying not to make too a big deal, but very concerned. Watching these episodes through the window of a hospital room wasn't remotely the same as sleeping next to one. For a start, the only person around right now to help was Brian, and the responsibility of that unnerved the man no end. He had to handle this. There was simply no way he was willing to fuck things up.

"Justin." Brian put a hand on his arm. "Come on… lie back down." He encouraged.

The kid still said nothing, but did as he was told.

"Drink some water." Brian slid a hand under his shoulders in support and passed over the glass, keeping his other hand under it, just in case.

Justin leaned up a bit and took a sip, then laid back down. "I'm all right." He said roughly. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Brian ignored the apology. "What was it about?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Justin rolled over and faced away.

Brian sighed and turned himself so that they were spoons that didn't quite touch, but after a moment he risked a hand on Justin's shoulder again. "Tell me anyway." He commanded gently.

There remained no response for a few moments, and then… "Brian." He spoke finally. "I don't want to take those pills anymore."

"Why not?"

Justin turned again and looked into hazel eyes, just inches from his own. "They keep me still too long." He explained. "I try to fight… to run, but they make me feel like I'm stuck in quicksand and I can't get away. Not even in my dreams."

"Get away from what?" Brian questioned… afraid of the answer.

"From him." Justin whispered. "He's everywhere. I go from place to place … all my favourite spots and every time I expect to see someone I trust, it's him… and he wants to hurt me."

He stared unflinchingly back into eyes made even bluer by reflection of the lights. "He can't." Brian promised hoarsely. "I won't let him hurt you again."

"I don't want to take them." Justin insisted once more.

Brian didn't know that it was such a great idea and sought a compromise. "I'll tell you what." He suggested. "We'll drop it down to half of one – only if needed."

"I guess." Justin sighed. "I'm just tired of feeling like this."

The dark made it easier to face one another and other things for some reason. Brian figured it was as good a time as any to bring up his plans. "Listen… " He began. "I talked about this stuff with… someone I know." He clarified. "With a shrink I know."

Justin rolled onto his back and stubbornly stared at the ceiling. "I won't go."

"I know." Brian assured him. "You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to. I just thought… maybe it couldn't hurt to see if he had any ideas about getting us back to normal."

It was the 'us' that did it. "What did he say?" Justin asked skeptically.

"That he thought you might start feeling better once you began to remember things."

"Well, we already established that I can't." Justin's tone evidenced considerable frustration with this topic.

"Not yet." Brian agreed calmly. "But I have a few ideas on how to help with that."

The young man turned his head and looked at Brian a long moment. "What do I have to do?"

"We'll talk about it in the morning." Brian put off the details for now, since he didn't have them all yet. "But I want you to agree that you'll try."

Justin was nervous, but he trusted Brian. "Okay." He whispered.

Trying hadn't done anything to help Justin remember, and had brought Brian to the edge of his sanity. Being in that garage again, the place where he'd feared he was watching Justin's life bleed away right before him, was one of the most painful things Brian had ever done. And it had accomplished nothing… except to show Justin that he wasn't the only one that was fucked up.

So none of Brian's plans had worked, and Justin's anxiety had forced them to stand apart from the other partygoers, watching Gus ignore his mothers as they unwrapped his gifts. Then out of nowhere… one of those gifts did in seconds what Brian had spent days trying to do. He mightn't have worked at it so hard if he'd known what the reaction would be.

"Justin." He called, hoping it would be sufficient to snap the kid out of his trance. There was nothing by way of response… nothing but inarticulate sobs, so Brian quickly embraced the kid and pulled him beyond view of any on-lookers. "Justin." He whispered again, trusting that his touch wouldn't do more harm than good.

In the midst of his fear and confusion, Justin heard someone calling him back from the dark. Something touched his arm, and he flinched away. Then the touch enfolded him and he was pulled into an embrace. He found himself leaning against someone, being held and rocked gently back and forth while he just kept crying and gasping for breath. A voice soothed him softly, whispering that it understood, and that he should go on and cry just as much as he needed to. A strong hand held his head against smooth warm fabric that smelled of… safety. And as he drew in staggering breaths Justin heard the beating of a heart, so he grabbed onto whatever held him, and prayed it would not let go until the pain disappeared.

If Lindsay explained their abrupt exit, then whoever had given the plastic sports equipment must feel like a real asshole. Though they couldn't have known what would happen, Brian wasn't sure whether to thank them or strangle them.

Once he'd stopped crying, Justin had practically been a zombie. Not a word could Brian get out of him, nor could he extricate himself from the boy's grasp. As a result, he'd attracted Lindsay's attention and after a moment, Mel had come up to drive he and Justin home, while Michael followed to drop off the jeep.

He tossed a brief "thanks" to them and then quickly ushered the kid into the building and up to the loft. He managed to remove Justin's pants and give him half a pill, then settle him under the duvet. Once he'd seen that the youth was asleep, Brian went to sit and calm down himself.

The events of the last couple days called for copious amounts of alcohol in his opinion, but more than he wanted a drink, Brian wanted to be alert if Justin needed him. So after he sat on the couch for a while, willing himself to get it together, he made himself a sandwich and then he made himself eat it.

He read for a few hours afterwards… just some industry journals that would occupy his mind with trivial matters for a little while. Finally he decided he'd go to bed too and see if they couldn't just sleep the day off, hoping for better things tomorrow.

After tidying the place up, still too full of nervous energy to feel fatigued, Brian nonetheless headed for bed and figured he might tire once he lay down. What he hadn't expected was to find Justin awake again. So caught off guard was he, that he admitted how much he'd been shaken by Justin's reaction of earlier.

That, of course, turned out to be nothing compared to the way his heart sank when Justin discovered the badge of shame he'd been wearing all this time. The visible reminder he'd given himself that this was all his fault.

When Justin finally stabilized after three days, Brian had realized that he'd not once removed the scarf. And as irrational as he knew it was, he didn't want to risk tampering with anything that might be keeping Justin alive, even if it was crazy.

The kid barely glanced at it now though, and simply tossed it aside. Then he leaned in and told Brian he wanted him. Wanted to feel the older man inside him again. Brian sought out Justin's gaze in the dim of the room, and despite seeing honest desire in it, had to ask if he was sure. After Justin requested carefulness, Brian took the opportunity to remind him what day it was, and when he had last honored such a request.

Who would have thought it would be he reminding Justin of an anniversary, instead of the reverse? Strange that as someone who never wanted a trick to stick around, Brian was overcome with relief that this one had.

It was with that sense of gratitude and reverence that he touched Justin now. His hands were light, as they stroked the fair skin, helping the blond out of his shirt and running his hands down the smooth back.

They kissed lightly for what seemed a blissful eternity, but eventually Justin pulled away and looked down at him. He took Brian's hand, which until then had been limited solely to Justin's upper body, and placed it on his cock. It was silent confirmation that he was fine and granted permission to go further.

Brian did just that, but he took his time about it. He touched all the places he knew Justin loved, and the more Justin responded… the more Brian was compelled to caress them again and again.

When he finally fulfilled Justin's request to be inside him, he was slow and careful, pausing with some frequency… wanting to be sure that Justin really was all right. But even in his caution, it was impossible not to enjoy the lithe body that pressed into every curve and hollow of his, as though it was a puzzle piece that would be mated.

They lay there a long time afterwards, both of them too spent to move. And Brian, who normally achieved as much distance as possible after sex, found he couldn't bring himself to separate from the long missed body now molded to his. He did, however, grab several tissues from a nearby box, and cleaned up the generous amount of jizz that had landed mostly on Justin's chest, and around Brian's hand.

"Jesus… you must have saved that up for awhile." He whispered teasingly.

"What did you expect?" Justin waved his weaker hand a bit. "I'm only relearning how to handle tennis balls…"

"Then tomorrow we start practicing how to handle your own." Brian told him. "Although I'm more than happy to help out in the mean time." He grinned lasciviously, and grasped Justin's still swollen cock.

"I'm very grateful for the assistance." The blond turned his head and smiled back. "But I can't wait to be able to jerk myself off properly anytime I want to."

"Hey… what happened to Mr. ambidextrous?" Brian mocked him kindly.

"I know." Justin made an annoyed face. "I asked about that, but they said that because I've used my right side pretty exclusively, it'd be just as much trouble to train the left to be dominant now, as to retrain the right."

Brian nodded. "Well maybe after we get the right side straightened out, we'll work on the left as a back up" He nuzzled Justin's ear and practically purred.

"Think of the things you could do to me with two artistically adroit hands."

Justin laughed, enjoying the teasing. "I knew this had to be about you somehow."

Brian smiled and didn't argue. "Helping others is never more rewarding than when it's in your own self interest." With that he finally pulled back enough to dispose of the condom and allow Justin to turn over.

"I'm sorry there wasn't as much reward for you this time." He felt a little bad now that the orgasm high had worn off. His useless hand made it impossible to touch Brian the way he once had and it troubled him. "I wish I could…"

"Hey." Brian interrupted. "That's bullshit." He lifted Justin's chin and looked into his eyes. "That was nothing short of amazing… just like always."

Justin nodded with relief, believing that Brian meant it.

"Okay then." The man turned on his back and let out a contented sigh when Justin inched over and molded to his side, gently resting his weaker hand on the older man's chest.

"Brian." He whispered again.

"Yeah?"

"Do you really think it'll get better?"

He didn't know if Justin meant his new physical limitations or his emotional ones, but he would have given the same answer either way. "It will." He would make sure it was true.

The unqualified confidence of Brian's tone, combined with the knowledge that he'd already overcome one hurdle tonight, was encouraging to Justin. The warmth emanating from the man next to him, the very solidity of him, made Justin feel safer than he had in ages. Made him feel like he could handle things a little better than he thought. And that just maybe… his life wasn't quite so hopeless after all.