A/N I would like to thank the lovely JustBeAQueen for betaing this story. I am in her debt.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prologue

Brian shifted in his bed pushing his face into the sheets, the shrill sound of his buzzer was echoing through his loft. Groaning Brian grabbed a pillow and pushed it down onto his head wishing they would go away. Ten minutes passed and the buzzer was still being hit. "Mother fucker," stumbling from the bed Brian made his way down the stairs his feet slapping against the floor. He was going to kill whoever was at the door, brutally maim them then he was going to hide the body. Blinking a few times to get the blur in front of his eyes to disappear he slammed his hand down onto the buzzer. "What," the word was snapped like a whip and Brian leaned against the wall his head pounding slightly. Maybe he shouldn't have drank those last shots.

"Brian Kinney?" The voice radiated from the small intercom crackling slightly from the machine.

"Yes," Brian resisted the urge to curse at whoever was on the other end of the intercom. Really if they needed to ask who he was then they really weren't that important to him right now. After all they had woken him up at some god-forsaken time in the morning. Brian blinked lazily glancing out his windows, ok so maybe it wasn't morning but it was still god-forsaken.

"This is the police, we need to speak to you about Justin Taylor."

Brian froze, his breath caught in his throat, "wh-what," the word was choked out. Brian could feel his hand tremble slightly.

"We need to speak to you about Justin Taylor."

The words seemed to echo before Brian pushed the button to open the downstairs door with a trembling finger. Oh god not again, the thought rang out through Brian's mind as he stood by the intercom his heart racing. Slowly he breathed; panicking wasn't going to do him any good. He just had to stay calm and –fuck being calm.

Brian hit the wall his breaths coming out in short pants, he needed to get dressed the cops would be here at any moment.

Moving toward his bedroom Brian ran a hand through his hair in frustration. A million things were racing through his head, another bashing, a car wreck, a mugging. He tugged his pants on quickly the material scrapping his thighs. Why did shit always happen to the blond. Justin had been there just a few weeks ago visiting him. Brian shook his head as the pounding of the door reached his ear, he grabbed a shirt pulling it over his head as he walked. There was a sinking feeling in the bottom of his gut, a harsh heat that gripped him that he couldn't shake. He'd felt this way twice before, once when he had held Justin in his arms as the other male was dying and again when the bombing had occurred.

Unlocking the door Brian slid it open, the rattling of the metal hinges increasing his agitation. Two men met his gaze Brian nodded and let them in before moving to his couch without a word. A cigarette was in his hand a moment later and smoke then filled his lungs. "What happened?" The words were harsh and they came out with a puff of smoke.

Hazel eyes locked onto the two men that were standing parallel to him. They weren't noticeable by any means, both had plain faces and average builds and if you crossed them on the street you probably wouldn't look twice. Brian fucking hated cops.

"I'm officer Brown and this is officer Choppa, we'd like to ask you a few questions Mr. Kinney in regards to Justin Taylo-"

"What happened," Brian shot into the cops statement before taking another long drag of his cigarette. He wasn't in any mood to play nice, he wanted to know what had happened and he wanted to know now.

Officer Brown huffed out a breath in annoyance at the interruption, the man before him was rude and from what the cop could tell a complete asshole. Just the thing he needed to make his day.

"As I was saying we'd like to ask you a few questions in regards to Justin Taylor's disappearance."

Disappearance…Brian shifted at the word. Justin was missing, how the hell could he be missing. The blond was supposed to be working on some new painting in his studio. Sure he could be obtrusive when he was working but that didn't mean he was gone.

"What do you mean disappearance?" Brian let the cancer stick sit in his fingers as he looked at the cop a harsh glint in his eye.

"Justin Taylor was reported missing three days ago by his roommate." The cop paused letting the information sink into Brian's brain, he couldn't help but notice the slight trembling of the man's hand, barely noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for. "When was the last time you saw Mr. Taylor?"

"Last Saturday, I dropped him off at the airport for his flight back to New York." They had done it time and time again, Brian would drive Justin to the airport and they would say "Later" before Brian would leave. Fuck what if that was the last thing he said to Justin? He took another drag off of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke slowly. Fuck.

"According to his roommate he never made it back to New York Mr. Kinney."

Fuck.

Chapter One

900,000 people go missing in the US each year-Brian only gave a flying fuck about one of them. Shifting back in his chair the brunette ran a hand through his hair. Justin had been missing for a year now, a year and the fucking cops never found out where he went or what happened. It was, as they say a mystery, how could a 21 year old go missing in the middle of an airport? It wasn't like it was some back alley where shady characters lurked. Apparently that didn't matter though because Justin was still missing. The cops had stopped looking, Debbie had stopped looking, even Jennifer had stopped looking. Brian never stopped. He couldn't.

After a few months everyone had given up hope, they had accepted the fact that Justin was never coming back-that he was gone from their lives. Brian hated them for it sometimes but in reality he couldn't begrudge them of their decision. The facts were overwhelming; there were no ransoms, no demands, and no messages from kidnappers. There was nothing to indicate that Justin was alive. There wasn't even the slightest glimmer of hope.

Brian drug his tongue across his dry lips before turning toward his computer. Every day he would try to find something that indicated that his lover was alive. He dug desperately through news articles and every day he would be left with the sinking feeling of failure in his stomach. He wasn't the only one looking though. Brian was pouring thousands of dollars into a Private Investigators pocket even though so far the man hadn't been able to track anything down. Ted and Cynthia were the only ones who knew what he was doing. Cynthia knew because she had found him drunk in his office once and it had all spilled out and Ted knew because he was his fucking accountant. Well that wasn't true Emmett seemed to know what he was doing but how he knew still remained a mystery.

"Boss," there was a knock on his door, a formality really because it was already opened.

"What?" Cynthia didn't back down from the tone merely stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. She knew damn well why her boss was in a mood it was that time of day, the time where Brian would scour the news online to see if Justin had turned up anywhere. She sometimes thought it was hopeless but Brian didn't and who was she to question him about this. The blond was the best thing that had ever happened to her boss and if Brian thought there was hope-well maybe there was.

"You need to review the Eyeconics account boss," her tone held no nonsense and she tilted her head to the side before tapping her long fingernails on her waist.

"Where are the boards?" Brian sounded tired and worn like a record that had been played too many times.

"On the table," Cynthia motioned behind her to the glass table several black boards were lined up on it displaying the latest product. Brian pushed back from his desk and strode across the room before examining the boards, 'Orange is the new blue'. The words echoed in his mind as he noted the bright orange font scrolling across the picture.

"They're fine," Cynthia nodded at the words before gathering the boards and moving towards the door watching as her boss braced his hands on the table before leaving the room.

'I decided you should take me back.'

The vase hit the wall; water, flowers and glass hitting the floor, a chair followed and Brain slammed his hands down onto the table his breath coming out in pants. "Fuck you Justin, where the hell are you?" Saline water dripped onto the table.

Brian shook slightly his hands trembling before he stood running his hands down his jacket and pants straightening them. He needed to get out of here. Brian walked to his desk shutting down his computer and grabbing his briefcase. Words were echoing in his skull pounding against his brain. He shoved his arms into his coat and slipped on his gloves as he walked. The walls of Kinnetic seemed to be closing in on him, suffocating him.

'Why are we still doing this if we both know it's never going to work.'

The cold wind ripped through Brain's coat as he left Kinnetic. He moved toward his car snow and slush crunching beneath his feet as he dug for his keys with one hand his briefcase held in the other. Some flakes of snow hit his cheek melting almost instantly, his hand groped in his pocket for another moment before he slipped the keys from them and pushed the right one into the door of the vette. A second later he was throwing his briefcase to the passengers seat and turning the car on. The engine turned over and he pulled his seatbelt across him clicking it into place. A deep guitar started to play through his speakers as he pulled out of the parking space into traffic.

The snow whirled around his car as he drove through the streets quickly hitting the highway. He turned the radio up a little louder trying to drown out the voice in his head. He was itching for a cigarette but he didn't want to roll down the window while it was snowing and get the frozen liquid in his car.

'You're not getting rid of me.'

Brian turned the radio up a little louder the beat thumping through the car as he drove down the highway, the area around him getting more rustic with each passing mile. He could never escape him, he could never take enough drugs or have enough sex or drink enough alcohol. They didn't understand that every day when he woke up he would hear Justin's voice. That every day he would reach across the bed to meet cold sheets and feel as if his heart was being ripped out.

Nobody knew that he wrote emails to Justin that were never sent-that he had several of the blond's paintings and that he would stare at them. He'd stopped trying to escape Justin.

He'd stopped having sex about six months back because every time he did he would hear Justin's moans in his ears. He'd hear the slight hitch in Justin's breath when he hit his prostate. He would smell Justin's shampoo. When it was over though he realized that it wasn't Justin and he felt as if he was hollow. The blond was everywhere, in the streets, in the diner, in Babylon, he was always there like some sort of a demented mirage.

'You bought this palace.'

Brain turned into the driveway reaching his hand up to hit the button that would open the gates. Britin was covered in a layer of snow, thick sheets of it covered the grass and laced the trees. Hitting another button the garage opened and he pulled into it before hitting the button again to close it. Turning the car off he let his head fall against the steering wheel for a moment taking in the darkness and the sound of the wind.

'Yes. Yes. I will marry you.'

Brian grabbed his briefcase slipping his keys into his pocket as he got out of the car and slammed the door shut. He paused before moving toward the door that connected the main building and the garage then opening it slipping inside the currently cold house. Turning he reached for the thermostat turning the heat on. The living room loomed to his right and he ignored it heading down the hall until he came to the stairs. There should have been a thin layer of dust because supposedly no one lived here. There wasn't though, the hardwood was clean.

Climbing the stairs Brian shifted his hold on his briefcase before making his way into the master bedroom. Moving to the small table by the bed he set his briefcase down and started to strip off his clothes. The cold air pricked at his skin and he shivered slightly, the central heating would take care of that though.

Brian trailed his hand across the large bed, the duvet catching on his fingers as he made his way to the bathroom. When he had bought the house he had planned them having plenty of joined showers, it had never happened. Flicking the light on to the bathroom he blinked at the brightness before shaking his head and moving to the shower to turn the knob on. The water always needed a few minutes to heat up. It was a testament to how much time he had spent in this house that he could move around it in the dark without stumbling or tripping.

Steam started to rise from behind the glass of the shower and Brian opened the door before stepping into the hot spray. The water ran down his body in rivulets pounding on the tight muscles in his shoulders and upper back. Gathering the soap he squirted some onto the washcloth before scrubbing at his skin. It didn't take long for him to get clean and soon he was stepping from the shower and grabbing a towel to dry his hair.

'You didn't return them.'

Tossing the towel into the hamper he made his way back to the bedroom before slipping under the covers of his bed. The sheets were cold around him and he turned into his pillow, a hand reaching up to wrap around the platinum rings that hung by a chain around his neck. They had been there ever since Justin had gone missing, a constant reminder that somewhere out there Justin was waiting for him to find him. He wouldn't stop looking.

'I love you.'

He couldn't.

"Hey Brian, it's Mikey, just wondering if you wanted to head out to Woody's. Call me back."

"To delete this message press 7 to save it press-"

BEEP

"Brian its Debbie you better get your ass here for Sunday dinner."

"To delete this message press 7 to save it press-"

BEEP

"Brian it's Lindsay. Look Mel and I are a little behind on the rent this month. I really don't want to bother you but I don't know who else to ask. Call me back."

"To delete this message press 7 to save it press-"

BEEP

"End of final message. To repeat your messages please press-"

Brian snapped the phone shut setting it on his desk. The mess in his office had been cleaned up, a bowl of fruit taking the space where a vase used to be. He really needed to give Cynthia a raise. That woman was a god-send. He glanced at the papers stacked on his desk, no doubt consumer reports and results of their response groups. He pushed the button to boot up his computer before turning to the first file quickly loosing himself in the litany of the papers.

A knock at his door pulled him from the file he was reading and he yelled for the person to come in before highlighting a section of the paragraph. "They're going to eventually figure out where you go every weekend."

"Ah Theodore." Brian looked up a mocking smile on his face, "is this a business manner or are you just unable to mind your own business."

Ted closed the door the latest budget adjustments in his hand, "budgets... and Michael keeps asking me where you disappear to every weekend." He moved forward setting them on Brian's desk watching as the man set aside what he was working on before tugging the slightly thick folder to him.

"Tell Mikey I'm going to fucking see the Wizard of Oz." Brian opened the file before glancing over the budget.

"Shall I also tell him that your cousin is the Wicked Witch of the West?"

"Sure and while you're at it you can learn the definition of a pink slip." Brain signed the first form.

"I'll be back to get the budget report at three Brian," Ted gave his boss a final glance before leaving the office.

Brian turned the page of the report loosing himself in the numbers.

It was another knock that drew him from his work again, the budget reports were finished and a good number of the files on his desk had been dealt with. The door opened and Brian knew immediately who it was. A sandwich was placed on his desk along with a fresh latte and the reports that were done were taken away. He seriously needed to give Cynthia a raise-or a vacation. Nope definitely a raise, the office would fall apart without her and he wouldn't have anyone to run interference with his family for him or remind him to eat.

Speaking of which…Brian tugged the sandwich and latte closer to the edge of the desk pushing the file away. Ah his favorite, he tore the cellophane wrapper off of the sandwich before taking a bite and chewing. A glance at the clock told him that it was nearing 2 in the afternoon-no wonder Cynthia had decided that it was time to feed him. It wasn't the first time that he had been fed by the woman and he was sure it wasn't going to be the last. Quickly finishing the sandwich Brian tossed the plastic into his trashcan before taking a sip of the latte. Yep, definitely a raise.

He turned toward his computer looking at the blinking line that was making its home in his password bar. He hadn't even logged into his computer earlier that morning. His password was typed and a small circle appeared as his system booted. The start screen sprung up and he clicked on the icon for his email, another password and the email screen popped up. Brian took another sip of his latte before stopping as his eyes landed on a certain message. He set the latte down trying not to get his hopes up as he moved to click on the message. How many times had he opened an email from this man only to be met with disappointment? Why would this time be any different?

He clicked anyways. A news article came up and Brian started to read.

Yesterday a man was found at the edge of the Roosevelt forest. He was unconscious and he showed signs of traveling through the forest for a few days or weeks. The man was dressed in blue scrubs and was not wearing shoes. There were several cuts and bruises most of which seemed to be from falls. The male is approximately 20 and at this time remains unconscious. He held no identification and was not wearing a medical bracelet.

Officer Andrew commented, "We found him at the edge of the woods. He was dehydrated, and unconscious, but otherwise appeared to be in good health."

The man was brought into St. David's hospital in Stratford by ambulance and has been receiving medical attention since then.

Beneath the article was a picture of the man being carried away on a stretcher and underneath the picture there was a message from the private investigator.

He was allergic to Tylenol.