Unfortunately he couldn't stay in the safety of Brian's arms forever, shielded from real life. Reality crashed down with the sound of Debbie's voice demanding to know what was going on and apparently still thinking Brian was in some way at fault. As much as he loves Debbie, Justin can't cope with her exuberance right now and is seriously pissed off at her for blaming Brian.

Shifting in Brian's arms, Justin moved so he was able to see Brian's face.

"Brian? Take me home, please?"

Brian looked down at Justin's words and, nodding briefly, picked Justin up and carried him out of the diner. If he noticed Justin's wince as he tightened his hold around his stomach, he didn't mention it.

Justin was silent on the journey back to the Loft, huddled in his seat. Brian remained silent also, tightly gripping the hand that had found its way onto his lap.

Once they arrived at the Loft and Brian had turned off the Jeep, he had to prise his hand away from the death grip Justin had it in. He'd barely managed to open the passenger door before Justin launched himself back into his arms. Half supporting, half carrying, Brian got them into the Loft, the sound of the door closing apparently reassuring to Justin, as he relaxed his hold on Brian's jacket.

Now that they were aware from the hustle and bustle of the diner, Brian was able to fully take Justin in, and he did not like what he saw. Brilliant blond hair dulled and matted, clothes ripped and stain, was that blood? and shoes that could barely be counted as such, they were so threadbare.

He was about to question Justin about his appearance, when he noticed the hospital bracelet on one skinny wrist (skinnier then he remembered, skinnier than it should have been.)

Unable to vocalise any of the thoughts running through his head, he simply pulled Justin back into his arms, this time not missing the sound of protest Justin made when his arms came into contact with his stomach.