I wanted to explore Brian's feelings regarding this possible outcome. But await for twists, more than one. I'm planning around at least 3 chapters, but will see how it goes. Rating T, possibly going M in later chapters.
A/N: Because I like to play with plots and mind tricks.
He saw him. He was in his car, when he saw him just outside, in the street, hanging posters about the upcoming event.
It always left a heart-warming feeling when he saw him, after they separated. After Justin decided to move on with his life, since they didn't have any future staying together. When he started the conversation, Brian was already expecting what he would hear next, and when he did, he nearly choked inwardly on his words.
"Time to find out."
And when Justin walked in their bedroom, yes, theirs. Why could he say it, but nothing more? Nothing what was needed to be said? Anyway, when he saw him putting on his jacket and then lifting his bag over his shoulder, Brian's heart skipped a dreadful beat.
This was it. It was as long as this lasted.
He wanted to stop him. He almost did. Almost said something. Anything. Just to stop him. But then he knew that there was nothing he could possibly offer to him. He could ask him to stay, but he didn't have a good enough reason.
Because he wanted him to stay.
Well, Justin grew up from that, and it was already not enough for only that. He wanted a family.
And then he hugged him, his final goodbye intimacy and it was tearing Brian apart.
Don't go. Don't go.
But he knew it was in vain. There was nothing he could do to stop him anymore.
"Where would you go?" he asked. His attempt to hold him back, but Justin only responded like a mature adult that he would figure something out.
He broke free from the embrace, and stepped near the treshold and Brian heard himself saying. "Let me know." Because I want to see you again.
Once he left, he felt empty. The house was empty once again. And it just didn't feel right without him anymore. How did he manage to survive alone all those years it was beyond him. But he never told him that. Oh, no. Like he ever would.
Despite his nonchalant attitude, in an attempt to hide his misery towards others, he still got himself drunk. And the only place he could think of, was getting to that farce house.
Michael had infected him. If he wouldn't have gotten married and showed Justin visions of family, husband and babies, he wouldn't have left him. And he made sure Michael got the message. Only it backfired on him.
"He left because of you!" he shouted in his face and the words stung. Oh, they did.
So when he told Justin that he was off to get tanned and enjoy his fucking awesome life in that street at the night, he couldn't help feeling regret. And for a moment, he thought of giving in, grabbing him and kissing him fiercely. Telling him to come back home.
But he didn't.
Always a coward. And so he drew off.
He was already in the taxi, going to airport, when his world shattered.
He was sitting there, in the backseat, nonchalantly, putting his mind off from what he was leaving behind, only focusing on the road ahead, when the radio, that fucking radio broke loose.
"There has been an explosion at Babylon. A local gay club-" the words echoed in the taxi, piercing through his heart. "where political fundraiser was underway tonight. Authorities fear there may be injuries, possible fatalities."
He felt like he had just been shot. Explosion. At Babylon. At that fucking fundraiser event, where everyone was. Fucking everyone. Justin.
He leaned in to the driver. "Turn around," he said firmly, his heart racing.
He dropped the magazine he was reading just moments ago and took his cell phone, dialling the number at once. There was a signal, but no answer.
"Come on. Come on. Pick up." He was desperately trying to calm himself down. There was a signal, so maybe it was not that big of a explosion as the police thought. He refused to think that he was not picking up because he was not able to anymore.
He closed his eyes, furrowing his brows. No no no. This was not happening to them again. God, no!
"Please... please, don't let anything happen to him."
When the taxi was pulling closer to the scene, he felt his insides swirl more and more. From the commotion outside, firetrucks and crowds, which could not be looking good.
He briskly stepped out of the car and couldn't believe what he was seeing. The crowds, the wailing, the sirens, the bloodied people, the smoke, the loss.
He searched the crowd with his eyes frantically. The cries reaching his ears. Then he finally spotted a familiar face.
"Jennifer," he breathed. He half-ran to her side, who was wrapped in a blanket, her face smoky. "Jennifer."
"Oh, my God," she began.
"Are you alright?" Brian asked, concerned. He still couldn't believe what was happening. What the fuck happened, to begin with?
"Justin is still there. You gotta find him," she pleaded.
He was still not out.
No no. This didn't meant anything happened to him. It didn't. It didn't.
He ran through the crowd towards the entrance, pushing the crowd away. He had to get there fast.
Please. Please. Be safe.
There was still some unextinguished fire inside and smoke. But all Brian could see was darkness, shattered glasses. The legendary Pittsburg's gay club, reduced to this state... no wonder they said fatalities...
He felt a cold shiver go down his spine.
"Justin!" he yelled in desperation, covering his mouth from the smoke. The fireman tried to instruct everyone who were able to leave the place, but he heard nothing of it.
There was nothing. Just darkness, smoke and emptiness. Death.
He went further inside and saw pillars shattered to dust. The place was one big mess. It was in ruins.
"JUSTIN!" he yelled again. Where are you? Fuck. Where are you?
One of the firemen tried to get him out, but he shoved him away. He was beginning to cough, but he did not care.
Just as he saw a body being trasported towards the exit, he spotted Ted by the counter.
"Ted! Ted?" he lounged on him. "Ted! What the fuck happened!?" He grabbed him by the shoulders.
"I don't know," he said.
"Have you seen Justin?" he asked, his voice cracking at the end. Ted only shook his head silently.
He gulped and turned away. This didn't mean anything still. He can still be found. Alive!
As if on cue someone yelled. "He's not breathing. Somebody help me!"
He coughed from smoke. His vision filled with blood, burned bodies and wailing. He looked up, hearing the cracking sound and could only spot more bodies, more blood and more death. He covered his mouth with his both hands.
What the fuck is this?
How in the fucking world did this place manage to get into such a state only from a single day, while he was absent?
He walked further inside, some electricity going off in sparks and that's when he saw it.
His heart stopped for a moment and he would have fallen dead, if he was not desperate to get there fast.
Blonde head sprawled on the ground, body burred under a pillar.
"JUSTIN!" he yelled, running to his side. He knelt down and saw blood all over the place.
"No no no. You're not. You're not," he muttered, grabbing on the pillar. He soon found that his strength was no enough. He couldn't lift it. Damn it.
"In here!" he yelled. "Fuck. I need help!" he yelled. "TED! Someone, get the fuck here!"
He turned back towards the body of his Sunshine, which was ceasing to shine now. He was all bloody and smoky. He quickly reached his hand to check on his pulse and felt a stab in his gut.
"No no no no. Come on. Don't fuck with me." He made a strangled sound.
God! This couldn't be happening again. He couldn't lose him!
Moments later, Ted approached him together with a few other men.
"Oh, God," he exhaled.
"Don't fucking stand there! Lift the fucking thing up!" Brian yelled. "Lift it damn it!"
With great effort they managed to lift the pillar of. It revealed sharp piece of glass, piercing right in Justin's stomach. That was the source of all the blood. If anything could be called lucky, then it appeared that he was not crushed by the pillar, it must have been not directly on top of him.
He didn't know. And he didn't fucking care as long as Justin gonna be alright.
He cupped his face, his eyes filled with unshed tears. He couldn't bear to see him like that. With quivering lips he pressed his against his former partners, but lovers for life, that he knew now. "Don't leave me. Please. Wake up," he whispered, hovering against his lips, his eyes closed.
He didn't know how long he stayed there, rocking himself with his love's body in his grasp, when someone forcefully pulled him away from him, him yelling in protest, until he was pulled to senses that they had to get to him, if he wanted him to live.
They pushed his body inside the ambulance, Brian just outside the car. They tried to stop him from going inside.
"I'm not leaving him!" he yelled. "Get the fuck away from me!"
"I'm sorry, but only family-" the man began, when Michael, who apparently was there too, still standing, with some injuries, but none fatal it seemed, interruped.
"He's his partner. Let him in!" he informed them and with one last look at the devastated Brian's face, they let him inside.
Inside the ambulance, all hell gone loose. They somehow managed to get his pulse back one moment, but it was quickly fading. They needed to get him extra care and fast.
Brian had Justin's one hand into both of his near his forehead, grasping it for life. "Come on. You can get through this. We gone past all that shit. You can't give up now. Please. Stay with me."
Inside the hospital was one big chaos. The injuries caused by the explosion at Babylon, were numerous. Everyone who could help were on their feet, rushing about.
Brian held onto Justin's hand the whole trip to the emergency room, until the doors finally shut before his nose, leaving him helpless, waiting.
Again.
He was alone. Waiting for the fate of his Sunshine once again.
Brian could feel his breath picking up, legs giving in. He had to sit down.
He somehow managed to stagger towards the seat. He pulled his head in his hands, harshly pulling his hair. This was not how it was supposed to happen. He was not supposed to get hurt.
Not him. Not him. Please. Why the fuck him?
He was rocking himself in a shudder when he felt steps rushing towards him. It was not only one pair of steps. It was a whole lot. Everyone. Michael, Ben, Emmet, Debbie, Jennifer... everyone except him. Everyone except Justin, who was fighting for his life.
"How's he?" Jennifer asked in a quivering voice.
Brian could not open his mouth, he just shook his head.
"Christ, is he dead?" Debbie sobbed.
Brian shot his head up at that. "NO!" he yelled. Michael gasped at the dead-worried expression his best friend wore.
"Fuck," Brian cursed and put his head back into his hands.
Don't take him away. Don't take him away.
It was all he could think about, when after who the hell knows how much time, it sure as hell felt like forever and half, the doctor emerged from the emergency room. The light of surgery shutting off.
"How's he?" Jennifer was first to ask. Brian jumped to his feet at once too. He couldn't voice his concerns, though. His throat felt strangled.
"Is this the family of Justin Taylor?" the doctor asked.
"We sure as hell are," Debbie stepped in. "Is Sunshine going to be alright?"
The doctor looked warily at the group. "We did everything we could. I'm sorry. He didn't make it."
He didn't make it.
Brian shook his head in disbelief. What the fuck was he talking about? "The fuck are you saying?" he rounded on the man, grabbing him by his lapels. "He was breathing! I saw him breathing! Don't fuck with me!" he yelled in the man's face.
"I'm sorry," the man only said. Brian could hear Jennifer's devastation and it seemed she fainted or nearly fainted, but despite his usual concerns, he didn't pay attention to anything besides the door in front of him.
He tried to push himself inside. "You can't get inside.," the doctor tried to stop him, but was harshly pushed away.
The view, which greeted Brian, crushed his heart to million of pieces. The sound...
The piercing sound, indicating the stop of the heart echoed inside the room and the young man laying on the surgery table being covered with a white sheet falling on his face.
Brian stood there, mouth agape, nearly falling backwards, his whole face pale.
This was not real. It just couldn't be real.
It was like his whole body shut off. He could feel strong arms pushing him away from the room, dragging him outside in the waiting hall. Back to the chaos, back to the wailing. Away from his most important person.
Everyone was crushed. They didn't know what to do. How to react. Only Debbie and Jennifer managed to let it all out. Others were either stunned or supporting each other.
Brian was on complete shut down, when Michael approached him, because he had to get to him. Even if he as hell didn't know what to even begin to say.
As soon as he opened his mouth, Brian held his hand up, shushing him. "Don't. Just don't," he breathed and turned around, walking away from the scene.
He roamed down the corridors, aimlessly. He had no goal, no aim, just to get away. Where? He did no know. Frankly speaking, he didn't know anything anymore. For all he knew, this was a fucking farce! Not real!
There was no way in hell Justin was dead!
"I'm sorry. We couldn't save him." Words echoing from somewhere to the side of the corridor, followed by cries.
And he couldn't take it anymore. The repetition felt like a confirmation to him. The words sunking in.
It was hard to breath, fuck, he didn't want to breath. He just wanted it to go away. This feeling, this nightmare to go away.
He slumped on the doorway, leaning in, his whole body shaking.
How in the world had his world lost meaning in less than twenty four hours?
to be continued...