The characters within are strictly the property of Showtime and CowLip.

I do not own ANY of them. No copyright infringement intended in any way.

This story contains graphic language, violence, and some adult situations ;)

You have been warned. Enjoy!

Chapter 7:

Welcome To Hell

-A Few Days Later-

_Justin's P.O.V_

The darkness of the room was sweeping over me, drenching me in a fear that was familiar. The metallic floor was cold under my feet as I walked forward, my arms outstretched. My palms were sweating and my limbs were shaking, the feeling of fear was engulfing me with each step I took. I stopped in my tracks as I heard breathing behind me, the breaths were short and gasping. A faint snarl was decorating each breaths end as I stood and listened. I held my breath for a moment and closed my eyes, trying to think of what animal was behind me. That's when the feeling radiated over me, but it was also when I finally realized that the fear wasn't my own.

It was flowing from whatever was behind me.

I listened to the breathing intently, trying to calm myself enough to hear. The breathing was gasping and snarling but more than anything...it was shaky. Every breath was filled with the fear that I felt. And in that moment, I relaxed. I felt my muscles loosen and my breathing even out as I made a split second decision. I was going to face this...this animal. I braced myself and began turning, every movement specifically slow as to not startle whatever it was. I turned around completely, keeping my eyes down before I worked up the courage to look at it head on. I closed my eyes before I lifted my head.

Now was the time.

I opened my eyes and realized that the dream had occurred again. I looked around my room and took in where I was, I was in my house. I blinked my eyes and realized that it was still dark outside, the soft crescent moonlight barely illuminating anything. Throwing back the blanket, I climbed out of bed and set out to take a shower. As I turned the water on, I realized that my hands were still shaking. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on something else, anything other than my dream and its possible meanings. Stepping into the large shower, I decided to focus on the design of the tiles. The rich cream tones and the red flourished pattern swirling within them, I smiled at the beauty of it...at the entire house really.

When I moved into the place, I had expected a rustic charm...a more countryside charm. But what I got was a grandeur that couldn't have been more perfect for me. The rich woods and the natural tones in which the walls were painted, I felt like this house was made for me. But what was stranger than the decor fitting so well was that when I explored the house thoroughly, I knew where every room was. I knew what I wanted to go where and how I wanted furniture placed.

It was almost like I'd lived here before. That's when I remembered my dream, about the man in the study and everything. It had been so vivid and when I explored the house, I found that exact room. The walls were painted the same deep caramel color and the feeling that I had was brought back immediately. I felt like I was home. Like I was meant for this place and now, there was only one thing missing. The man. But I was working on that. I was supposed to meet Brian at his loft tonight for drinks.

I hadn't heard very much from him over the last few days, but it wasn't as bad as before. I had called the other day, expecting to get his voice-mail. But when he picked up, I was proud. I was proud of the fact that he wasn't ignoring me, he was trying. I remember the exact phone conversation.

"Hello." He had said, I expected his tone to be snide or annoyed but it wasn't. It was soft and...almost sweet.

"Hey, how've you been?" I said, treading thin ice at trying to maintain his current mood. I heard him sigh over the phone.

"I've been...the same." The slight hesitation in his voice gave way to his battle. I knew that it would be hard for him to let someone care about him but at least he was meeting me half way.

"That's great. Well, I just thought I'd call and say hi...see how you were." I said in a soft tone. I called around noon, thinking that he was taking lunch. But when I heard people talking, I knew I had interrupted something. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything."

"It's alright. But I do have a meeting in about ten minutes, I really should go." His tone was level, he was struggling with this and I had to commend him. "Later."

"Later." I said just before the phone clicked, signaling the end of our conversation.

It hadn't been an emotional call by any means but it was ground-breaking. He had actually picked up, that was something. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a plush burgundy towel around my waist, deciding to head to the kitchen for a quick drink. I passed through my room and read the clock, 5:00am. Well, at least I didn't have to worry about sleeping too late.

_Brian's P.O.V_

5:00am. I had been staring at the clock since 11pm and hadn't even slept. I had tossed and turned throughout the night, trying to induce sleep. I had even taken a pill but nothing seemed to help. To be honest, I knew why I couldn't sleep...and it had nothing to do with being tired. I was fucking exhausted. It was my mind. Every time I would shut my eyes, I would play out a scenario in which I laid out every secret that I possessed to Justin. Each time I ran the scene, it ended the same. Justin would realize just how fucked up I was and then leave, I would be near begging but he just walked out. Every time. I huffed a breath and decided to just get out of bed.

I walked to the kitchen and made coffee, my mind still racing about what might happen today. Every ounce of my being hoped and yes...prayed...that things would go well. Hoping against hope that I would be able to muster up the courage to be open with Justin. To just let my real self shine through my impenetrable wall, that was my biggest worry...and my greatest challenge. The coffee finished brewing and I poured myself a cup. I stood by the counter and took a sip as I looked down and saw the bottle of Jim Beam, its beckoning call was nearly irresistible. It tempted me, calling me to pour a shot into the black coffee in my hand. No...not today. Alcohol was my crutch, my leaning point. But not today. It was going to be different. I knew that I wouldn't get drunk but I just didn't want to start off by trying.

I glanced at the clock and realized that I didn't have anywhere to be this early. Without having to think about it anymore, I decided to go to the diner. I might as well eat something, after all...today was a step forward. A step toward being myself, being open with people. Well, I could try couldn't I?

The diner wasn't as full as I thought it would be. It was only 5:45 after all. I took a seat at the counter instead of the back booth. Debbie was standing at the kitchen window talking to the cook when she caught sight of me. The look on her face was a sight of confusion. Normally, I wouldn't be in the diner this early...and on a Saturday morning. I took a deep breath as Debbie made her way toward me, grabbing the pot of coffee on the way.

"What brings you to our humble establishment this early on a Saturday?" She quipped in a sharp tone. I knew that voice all too well, I heard it every time something wasn't going right. As always, I was the problem...somehow. My throat itched to snap off a sarcastic comment as I would usually, but something inside me killed it. Instead, I just looked at her and smiled softly.

"Just hungry I guess." My tone was low, almost innocent. I watched her expression change a bit before she popped her gum and set her pose.

"What have you done to Michael?" She sniped as she poured my cup of coffee before setting the pot on the counter harder than necessary. I closed my eyes and let out the breath that I was holding. When I opened my eyes, hers were locked with them. She raised her eyebrows, expecting me to say it was nothing and then follow it with some asshole remark. I was so tempted to fulfill that expectation before the feeling killed that thought yet again.

"Well, we had a few drinks at Woody's a while back but I just haven't talked to him much lately." It was honest, it was open...it felt good. The same expression that peeked through before had returned only to be stifled again. She popped her gum and nodded.

"So, that's how it is then? You just don't talk to my son...your best friend...and think that's how things are supposed to be?" Her tone had the same snide, accusing ring and it was starting to press my last nerve. What had I ever done to Michael? Yeah, I may have been a complete shit to him sometimes, but we always made up and moved on as normal. But every time something went wrong in Michael's world, it was my fault. Like I was the reason that Michael wasn't shooting rainbows out of his ass all the time. I never understood it. It seemed like Debbie blamed me for everything that Michael did to himself. I couldn't help the fact that he was in love with me, I mean, what was I supposed to do...tell him that I hated him and that he should fuck off? No...because I would be lying. I did love Michael...just...not in that way. But it seemed that no matter how hard I tried to do nice things for him, when it didn't turn out...it was my fault that he was sad or lonely. What...the hell.

I looked Debbie in the face plainly as I spoke.

"No, that's not how it's supposed to be but Deb...I can't control the things that happen in my life. And I can't control the things that happen in Michael's life. I wish you would believe me when I say that I really want the best for him." That was as honest as I could be. I meant every word that passed between my lips, the problem was...Debbie didn't buy it.

"So what...you want the best for him but you can't seem to be anything other than an asshole to him? He's always been there for you Brian..."

That was it.

"And where the fuck have I been? Let me guess...getting my dick sucked! Fuckin' A! What have I done to Michael? Honestly. Tell me Debbie. When the fuck have I not been there for Michael when he's needed it the most? Huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do!" I exploded at her and the empty diner as I stood up and threw my arms out. Her mouth was a bit gaped and her gum was hanging in between her lips. I watched her brows furrow and her finger start to point at me when I had had enough.

I threw down a ten and left. As I walked to my car, I kicked the tire as hard as I could. I had tried to be nice...I had tried to be honest. I had even kept my remarks at bay, and for what? For Debbie giving me the same old shit? If only she knew that you could only beat a dead horse for so long before there's nothing left to beat. I was beginning to wonder just how much of this so called friendship I cherished. Every time something happened between Michael and me, it was always my fault. As if Michael was a fucking perfectly saintly creature. Fuck that shit.

I arrived at my loft, noting that I had only been gone fifteen minutes, I decided that there wasn't anything left to do but...drink.

_Justin's P.O.V_

I had showered and picked out a delectable outfit, a form fitting grey long sleeve shirt with a comfortable yet sexy pair of Levi's. I looked at the clock and decided that I should probably head out if I wanted to be at Brian's at 7. Setting the alarm on the way out, I looked back at my home. I smiled at the thought of meeting Brian tonight, at being one step closer to seeing the real him. I hit the button on my key-chain, unlocking my new 1990 model Volvo...I loved this car. Old but classic.

The drive was scenic and rural until I entered Pittsburgh, urban central. I found a relatively close parking spot outside Brian's building and strolled up to the door. I had been anticipating this night for the last few days and I could barely contain my excitement. I was about to ring the buzzer when I saw that the door was ajar. For some reason unknown, I furrowed my brows and let myself in. As I walked up the stairs, I couldn't help but have the solum feeling that Brian wasn't the type to leave his door open...or unlocked for that matter. He was the type that liked his belongings to be locked up, much like his emotions. As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw that his door was wide open.

I peeked inside to see Brian sitting in the floor of a trashed loft. Couch cushions were strewn about and there were empty bottles of liquor littering the beautiful rugs and floor. He was positioned so that he could look out the windows, staring off into the distance as if he were in a trance. I stepped over the threshold just as he turned his head, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before he spoke.

"Welcome to hell..." His voice was grim and his eyes were full of pain, regret, and most of all...fear. I could almost see through his eyes and straight into his soul, dark and sorrowful. He held a nearly empty bottle of bourbon in his hands, clutching it as if his life depended on it. "Why don't you join me."

I slowly walked over to where he sat, kneeling in front of him. I gently caressed his cheek and sighed. This was not at all how I wanted to spend this night with Brian, watching him drink himself into oblivion. The pain in his voice when he spoke stood out and was a louder volume than his voice itself. He was radiating suffering and it was coming in thick waves, nearly choking the life from me. This wasn't good.

"Brian...you can't do this to yourself. It doesn't help you." I spoke softly, keeping my hand firmly on his cheek, his eyes cast down. When the last word left my lips, his eyes met mine. I knew that he saw the hope in my eyes where I saw fear and disdain in his. "I care about you and..."

"You don't care about me! You think you do but you don't!" He moved to his feet so fast that I was nearly knocked over by sheer force. Towering over me, I looked up at him...his face a portrait of his feelings. I looked away and then rose to my feet, standing only a few inches from him.

"Yes I do, Brian. More than you know." I was trying to keep my voice soft and caring, but seeing him like this was tearing me apart from the inside. He huffed his response and took a long swallow from the bottle, draining it dry. When I moved to take the bottle from him, he pulled away. Before I could do anything, the bottle was shattered into a million pieces against the kitchen wall. I jumped at Brian's outburst. He turned to me, eyes fixed somewhere other than my eyes...shifting. He was only centimeters away from me now.

"No...I don't know because I don't care!" His voice was shaking as he nearly screamed, so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I backed up from him and furrowed my brows.

_Brian's P.O.V_

My mind was whirling. After what had happened at the diner with Debbie, it had been the breaking point for me. I had drank enough to kill someone but it got me drunk. It helped with the thoughts at first but now, seeing Justin, they were rushing back with a vengeance. His angelic face was the last thing I wanted to see right now...Not because he wasn't perfect, but because I was broken. I would hurt him before I knew what was going on.

And that's exactly what was happening right now.

Justin's face was screwed into a confused and utterly helpless expression. I had shattered the bottle before I thought about what I was doing, startling him. And now, I was screaming at him. Screaming because, honestly, I didn't know what else to do. His breath was short as he spoke.

"That's not true. I know that you care...you just can't admit it yet. But it's there." His voice was beginning to lose the calm that it possessed only moments before. I laughed at his heartfelt words, a cruel bitter laugh. As I opened my mouth to speak, my heart was literally dying as the words flowed.

"You stupid little twat...you don't know me. You don't know anything about me! What...do you think that I'm capable of love? Capable of loving you?" My bitter laughter strangled my heart's pleading. "I don't want you!"

I watched his face try to remain straight as his eyes began to form tears, tears over my words. I felt my heart constrict, turning its back on me as my brain was forming a celebration. It was almost as if I had no control over what I was saying because I was torn between the two worlds of my heart's desire and my brain's logic. He stepped toward me, the tiniest glimmer of hope struggling to shine through his moistened eyes.

"No...I can see it in you. You are capable of love. I can feel it. I know it because I know what's in your heart. This isn't you speaking...this is the mask that you hide behind speaking." His voice was choked with the tears that he was trying to hold back.

He was right on so many levels that I wanted to fall at his feet and beg his forgiveness. But no. My mind was keeping me upright, filling my mouth with wickedly cruel ways of tormenting his hope. I felt my throat constrict as I watched a few tears fall from his eyes. I loosened my stance and he saw it as an invitation to come closer. He shuffled to me, only a foot away now.

"Please Brian...please. Don't do this." His hands cupped my cheeks, his eyes boring into mine. For a moment, I felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I felt my knees begin to shake and my heart start to beat harder, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes...I saw his last shred of optimism. It was hanging in the air between us, touching my heart...making me feel horrible, awful. His faith in me was stronger than my faith in anything, I saw that in his eyes. He believed that I was capable of so much love and yet, I was ruining everything by ripping out his heart and stomping on it. The feeling in my gut told me what I needed to do. I needed to fix this, make it right. I yearned to take him into my arms, kiss away his broken spirit and mend his currently breaking heart.

But that yearning was shot...in the very next moment, I felt my body harden and my jaw set. I latched my hands around his arms and shoved him away from me. His face was now wearing his exact emotions...heart-wrenching hopelessness.

"I'm not hiding anything. There are no masks. This is who I am...a heartless bastard who doesn't need your stupid sentiment or love. I don't need you, I don't need anyone." My voice was deadly calm, upsetting myself as well as Justin.

And that was it. I watched as the hopeful optimism in his eyes faded completely. His faith in me was scorned and beaten, and I was the cause of it all.

_Justin's P.O.V_

I could literally feel my heart being torn apart, ripped from my chest savagely and drained of any light...any feeling. His eyes were full of regret and sorrow as I looked into them through tear-blurred eyes. His jaw was set and his stance was firm as I stepped further back from him. His words had cut into my very being and I was gushing from the wounds. I wiped the tears from my cheeks as I turned away from him.

I walked across the wide spread glass shards on my way to the door. I felt the pain flowing off of him in catastrophic waves crashing against my back. I reached the door and stopped, my heart was whispering to me. It was reminding me of the very first night that I had met Brian, the words that had been said. I bit my bottom lip to stifle the tears and hold back my sobs as I turned to face him again.

His stance was less firm and his lips were rolled into his mouth, that look made my heart yearn to comfort him...even in the circumstances, but I wouldn't. No. Instead, I decided to even the playing field a bit. I knew where to hit him where it hurt.

"You know...the very first night that we met, you said something to me that made me believe that you were worth fighting for. They were the only words to come out of your mouth that were honest and pure. Do you know what they were?" My voice was calm yet shaky, a desperate attempt at making him see.

He raised his eyebrows, trying to seem entirely uninterested.

"You said that you loved me, you fucking bastard." My voice was eerily calm before I turned and left...slamming the door hard enough to chip the bricks around the frame.

I don't know what's worse...loving him when he broke my heart, or loving him for not meaning a single fucking word.