TITLE: It's OK
AUTHOR: littletwat
RATING: R for language
DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned them. I'd make them happy.
A/N: My first venture into writing Brian/Justin fic. Season 5 in general annoys me. This is my way of trying to fix its many problems. Set between 506 (after the conversation at the end), but before Justin leaves in 507.
SUMMARY: A what-if. Instead of the bombing, what-if something else happened to change Brian's mind. Will they both survive?
It's OK
"Hey, Princess, you coming or what?" Brian called annoyed that Justin was dragging his feet.
"I said I was," Justin growled grabbing his coat off the couch, pushing past Brian and out the door.
He was still angry, which annoyed Brian even more. All this talk about family and commitment made him nervous. He realized he had fucked up view of what a family was. Jack and Joan had not been the world's best role models, but he was finally comfortable again, even though he would never admit it. Why did it have to change? Why did Justin want it to change? He thought they were happy. Granted getting syphilis was not on the agenda, but it happened, and he wasn't one for apologies.
The problem was, Justin was, and he was afraid, this time he wouldn't be able to give Justin what he wanted.
Angrily, he pulled the 'vette out of it's parking space, taking the corner a little too fast.
"Brian," Justin mumbled, his hand reaching for the dash.
Brian just glared. He wanted to get to Babylon and drown himself in liquor and drugs. Probably not the best answer, but Brain was tired of arguing.
"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Justin said.
"Do you want to go home?" Brian asked stopping at the next light.
"Are you coming too?"
Brian shook his head and sighed.
"This isn't working," Justin said looking down at his hands.
"I know," Brian whispered. The light turned green, and Brian pulled into the intersection.
Maybe if he had been paying more attention he would have seen the truck, maybe not. The 'vette didn't stand a chance against the larger vehicle. Glass broke, metal gave, and the driver's side crumpled in under the impact. The remains of the classic car came to rest against the curb, music still playing from the radio.
Brian groaned trying to breath against the pain in his chest. Opening his eyes, he tried to focus, but the world seemed upside down and a little backwards. He realized he was looking through the broken windshield, his chin resting on the steering wheel. Turning his head he gasped as pain radiated through his body. The harder he tried to breathe the worse the pain got, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Only one thought kept him conscious… Justin.
The music stuttered, than went silent. Brian strained to hear anything beyond his own raged breathing. He heard nothing and panic ebbed in the recesses of his mind. Pictures appeared behind his closed eyes.
Justin… blood… the cold from the cement seeping through the thin fabric of his pants… face pale against the stark contrast of the ever increasing flow of blood.
Justin… his words… like Michael and Ben… a house… a family… the sadness in his face when Brian ignored him.
Justin… the smile… that damn smile… sometimes the only thing that got him through the day.
Forcing his eyes open, he struggled to focus on the man sitting next to him. 'I'll do anything' he thought. 'Just let him be ok.'
"Justin." It was barely a whisper, but it was all he could muster.
A soft touch was his answer, ghosting along his fingertips and up his arm.
"Jus…" the word caught in his throat, and he struggled to focus. He had to see. He had to make sure.
Eyes met, both asking the same question. Are you ok?
Brian was rewarded with a smile, that smile, and he let his body relax. The pain started to recede, pulling him back with it. He knew that was wrong. He should hurt, but the darkness took the pain. He tried to fight it, to hold onto the smile, but it disappeared. Blue eyes clouded over with concern.
"It's ok," Brian whispered, wanting Justin to know, in that one instant, it was ok. All the questions he had, all the confusion, was gone. As long as Justin was ok, nothing else mattered. His only regret was the pain he knew he was causing, the pain that filled those eyes with tears.
"Brian!" The choked sob was the last thing he heard before the darkness took everything.
QAF
"Open your eyes Brian. God damn it, don't you do this to me," Justin demanded. He wanted to reach out, touch him, shake him, anything to make those hazel eyes open again, but he couldn't. He hugged his right arm against his body, the painful throb a constant, and yanked on the seatbelt with his left. It wouldn't budge, and all the movement was making his head pound. He knew the wet stickiness he felt trickling down his temple and behind his ear was blood, but he choose to ignore it, focusing on the silent man next to him.
"Brain, please," he begged, concerned with shallowness of Brain's breathing and the wheezing the accompanied it. Reaching as far as he could, he placed his hand gently on Brian's cheek. "Please."
"Sir, can you hear me?" The voice startled him, but he couldn't take his eyes off Brian. In his peripheral vision he saw lights flashing, red, blue, white, and it made his head hurt.
"Sir?"
"Justin," he groaned reluctantly dropping his hand and turning away from Brian.
"Justin," the EMT said smiling. "My name's Peter. Do you remember what happened?"
"Not really," he mumbled turning back to Brian. Another EMT was by his side, putting a plastic collar around his neck.
"Justin, look at me," Peter said his voice a tad harder.
He didn't want to, but he could hear Brian's pissy voice in his head. Listen to the man, you little twat. So he turned away from Brian and tried to focus on what the EMT was saying.
"My partner Ray is going to take good care of your friend."
"Brian," Justin said.
"Brian's in good hands. I need you to stay with me, ok?" Justin didn't care for the matching plastic collar Peter slipped on him while he spoke. He couldn't turn his head and see Brian. Peter must have sensed his unease, as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Justin, the faster we get you and Brian out of here, the faster you get to a hospital."
Justin groaned as the car shifted.
"Guys, take it easy," Peter called over his shoulder. "Easy, Justin. I'm going to ask you some questions, ok?"
"Does your neck or back hurt?"
"No."
"How about your head?"
"Yes," Justin groaned again as the man applied pressure to the side of his head.
"Can you tell me the date?"
"Umm…" Shit, that should be an easy question.
"That's ok," Peter said.
The car shifted significantly, and Justin couldn't hold back the scream as his arm hit the door, the pain blacking out his vision.
"Justin, you with me?" Peter asked.
"Yeah," Justin whimpered. The man was some how closer to him, and Justin realized the door and roof were gone, and Peter was leaning over him. "Brian."
"Ray is taking care of your friend…"
"Boyfriend," Justin mumbled, smiling slightly at the image of Brian rolling his eyes at the word.
Peter's face softened and a touch of sadness entered his eyes. "We're going to move now, Justin."
Everything was slightly fuzzy, and Justin was having a hard time focusing. He sucked in a gasp, his body shifting up and over the seat. Black dots danced around his vision, before he succumbed completely and let the fuzziness sweep him away.
QAF
"I don't care about your fucking policies," Justin growled.
It had been hours since he'd woken up in the ER. They'd x-rayed him, put a cast on his arm and insisted he needed to stay overnight because of the head wound, all the while ignoring his repeated attempts at finding out about Brian. He was beyond pissed and getting close to frantic.
"Can someone fucking tell me if he's still alive? Is that too much to ask?" he demanded.
"As I said before, I can not give out…"
Justin took a deep breath. "I. Am. His. Partner. I was in the fucking car with him. God Damn It."
"Sunshine." The soft word practically flowed over him. Debi's hands were on his arm, pulling him away from the nurse's desk. "Sit down."
Not one to argue with Debi, ever, Justin did as he was told. His body practically vibrating with emotion, he nearly jumped when another hand rested on his.
"He's going to be fine, Justin," Michael said, squeezing his hand.
"You don't know that. The truck hit his side, the car was… they had to take the roof off to get us out." Justin moved to stand, his body a mass of nervous energy.
"Justin…"
"We were arguing," he whispered.
"What?"
"I thought when he let me move back in that things were going to change. That I was going to be enough for him," Justin sighed. "But I was wrong."
"He loves you."
"I know," Justin smiled. "And maybe a couple years ago that would have been enough, but I'm not that kid anymore, Michael. I want a family, a home."
"In a warped since, Brian wants that too, but I don't think he knows how," Michael said.
"What?" Justin asked.
"From the time that we met, Brain spent more time at my house then at his. I don't know everything, Brian has always been real good at hiding things, but I know his dad was a drunk who hit him and his mother, and his mother's solution was to either ignore it or pray about it."
"I didn't realize it was that bad. He never talks about it."
"When does he talk about anything? I'm not making excuses for him. Lately he's been a real shit about me and Ben, but sometimes I'm not sure he realizes what he's doing," he said reaching out to touch Justin's arm.
"I think he knows exactly what he's doing, not letting himself get too close. I'm amazed it's lasted this long."
"So am I, but that's just it Justin. It has lasted this long. God, if you had told me the day Gus was born, that four and a half years later you would still be with Brian, I would have laughed at you. It wasn't something that he did."
"But I got hurt," Justin said pulling away. "That was the reason he let me stay."
"Bullshit. You didn't see," Michael said looking away. "The way he was when they didn't know if you were going to make it. That's when I knew."
"Knew what?"
"He needed you, and that it wasn't just about sex. That's what's different. You just being there is important to him."
"Yeah, well, does he know that," Justin said with a sad smile.
"He does," Michael nodded. "I think that's part of the problem. It's there, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He'd rather push you away."
"Justin," Debi motioned for him to follow her.
"Thanks, Michael," Justin said following Debi.
"You are Mr. Kinney's family?" the doctor asked.
"Yes, is he ok?" Justin asked.
"Mr. Kinney is in serious but stable condition. The car he was driving didn't have airbags?"
"No," Justin answered.
"Mr. Kinney hit the steering wheel with tremendous force, fracturing his sternum. He also sustained several broken ribs. We will be monitoring his cardiac and respiratory functions to rule out a myocardial contusion or any lung damage."
"But he's ok?" Justin asked.
"Yes, though he will be in quite a bit of pain for some time, and he will need to remain as still as possible to reduce the risk of further injuring himself."
Justin suddenly felt light headed and found himself sitting in a chair.
"Sunshine," Debi's concerned voice pulled him back from the void he was slipping into.
"He's really ok," he sighed.
Debi's hands cupped his face. "And he's asking for you."
QAF
Brian tried not to move, it fucking hurt when he moved. They'd given him this nifty button to push that dosed him with meds, but it didn't seem to be working. It didn't help that nobody would tell him if Justin was ok. He vaguely remembered a smile, but he wasn't sure if it was real or a dream. The panic he felt was irrational, even he knew that, but until he saw Justin, talked to him, the fear of losing him was twisting in his gut. He tried to shift sideways and sucked in a breath as pain shot through his chest.
"Fuck."
"Not for awhile I've been told," the teasing voice said.
"Justin." His smile faded when he saw the damage. "Shit."
"It's not that bad," Justin protested.
"Not that bad," Brian growled. "Come here."
Justin pulled the hard plastic chair up to the bed. Brain grunted slightly as he reached for Justin's face.
"Brian, you shouldn't…"
"Quiet," Brian said, his fingers grazing the bandage on Justin's head, and the red and purple bruise peeking out from underneath. "You're ok?"
"They x-rayed me until I practically glow in the dark. Even had the neurologist in to double check. I promise, I'm fine," Justin said taking Brian's hand and laying it back on the bed.
Brian's eyes went to the sling. "No painting for awhile."
"I'm supposed to take it easy for at least a week. After that, we'll see," he smiled.
"I'm glad you're ok."
"Me too," Justin whispered looking away.
"Justin…"
"This doesn't change anything."
"Yes it does," Brian said.
"It doesn't change what I want."
"Maybe it changes what I want."
Justin looked suspiciously at him. "Really."
"When I woke up in that car, all I could think was, don't let anything be wrong with him. I couldn't imagine living without you."
"Brian, that doesn't…"
"I want you." Brian smiled, remembering the same words thrown at him so long ago. "I heard you the other night, but… I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Not having an out. This game we've been playing, you're there you're not there, I've told myself it was ok, because that's how we wanted it. No regrets, no locks on the doors. It wasn't supposed to be complicated. I'm not sure when that changed, and it scares the hell out of me."
"Brian…"
"But the idea of you not being here scares me more. Fuck, Justin, I love you," Brian whispered.
"What?"
Brian closed his eyes and sighed. "I love you."
A hand on his face and lips were on his, gentle but insistent. It was over in a few seconds but both were left breathless.
"What does this mean?" Justin asked.
"Hell if I know," Brian chuckled. "Just… promise you won't leave."
He was rewarded with that smile and the panic, the fear vanished. "I'm not going anywhere."
THE END
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