Justin's life hangs in the balance as Gus seeks help from his father. Will Brian reach his partner in time?
A/N: This chapter is much shorter than my normal ones, but I didn't want to leave my readers in suspense any longer. Hope you enjoy it and it allays everyone's fears! BTW - I am not a medical expert, so I hope you will allow me a little 'literary license' if necessary. Here goes!:)
Brian gazed impatiently out the glass doors onto the snow-covered backyard, praying Tricky would make a short go of his outside trek and return soon to be let in, when a sight caused his heart to stop; against the dimly-light night he could distinctly make out flames coming from the roof of Justin's studio. "Oh, my God!" he screamed out as he yanked the door open and fished frantically for his cellphone to call 911. Yelling over the phone, he took off at a desperate run toward the exit gate at the back of the fenced-in yard. "Justin! Gus! Where ARE you? Answer me!" he kept yelling over and over again as he told the dispatcher there was a fire and verified the address.
Tricky followed closely at his heels, knowing something was going on but unable to figure out what it was; all he knew was that it seemed like they were going to play a game and his idol was excited about it, which made him excited. Brian's lungs threatened to explode as he ran full speed toward the remodeled stable housing Justin's studio and the two guys he loved more than life itself. "Justin! Gus!" he kept shouting at the top of his lungs, his heart threatening to burst as he realized the studio was totally engulfed in fire. "No…God!" he shouted in despair, just before he heard his son calling his name from nearby.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
"Gus!" Brian shouted urgently as a small, black form came trudging up toward him out of the smoky blackness. Brian ran up to his son and scooped him up into his arms, noticing the boy was wearing his partner's coat and boots. "Are you all right?"
"I'm scared, Daddy!" Gus wailed as Tricky came running up to them; the dog began to run madly around in the snow as if he were playing with them, totally unaware of the drama presently unfolding.
Brian hugged his child tightly to his chest, awash with relief that his son was terrified but otherwise seemed all right. "Where's Justin?" he asked urgently as he pulled his son back to look into his smudged, tear-stained face.
"He…he was supposed to follow me out of the bedroom!" Gus cried. "He promised me, Daddy! Where is he?"
"Brian!" He turned as he heard Lindsay and Mel come rushing up to them; both women had heard the sirens approaching the house and had looked out the window, noticing with horror that the studio was on fire. They panicked as they discovered Gus was missing from the house and, barely taking time to throw their coats and boots on over their pajamas, they had rushed out the backdoor to search for him.
"Mommy! Momma!" Gus cried out as Brian pushed Gus into Lindsay's arms. "Stay back here!" he demanded as he ran as fast as he could toward the back of the studio where the small bedroom was located. The sirens were coming closer and closer now, piercing the stillness of the night as two fire engines and a paramedic truck drove up the long, winding driveway and stopped in front of the house; several firemen immediately jumped down from the truck and began to pull hoses toward the scene of the fire.
"Justin! Justin!" Brian screamed at the top of his lungs, thoughts of other horrifying moments running through his mind. Please….God….No played over and over again in his head as he rushed over to the now-destroyed window and looked in; his blood ran cold as he peered through the smoke to see Justin lying unconscious face up half-on, half-off the bed; he was apparently unaware of the flames that were almost at his feet as Brian placed his hands on the windowsill and immediately jumped into the room without a moment's hesitation.
His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest as he knelt for just a second to feel for Justin's pulse at his wrist; he let out the breath he had been holding as he detected a fairly strong pulse before he lifted Justin's limp body up into his arms to carry him the few steps over to the window. He was trying to decide how best to get Justin outside when a fireman appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "I've got him," he instructed as he reached for Justin under the armpits and pulled him out of the window as Brian pushed from behind.
Noticing the structure was on the verge of collapse, the fireman sternly told Brian, "You need to get out of there immediately, Sir," as Justin was hefted outside into his arms. Brian had just enough time to climb out through the window when he looked behind him and saw two of the massive, exposed beams come crashing down onto the bed and set the mattress aflame. He didn't have time to consider what could have been before he turned in concern toward his partner, who was now lying limp and lifeless on a canvas stretcher that had been carried over to the scene from the paramedic's truck. A portable oxygen mask was covering Justin's darkened face as Brian knelt down next to him and reached for his hand, savoring the warmth he felt there despite the bitter cold. He rubbed his partner's cheek with his other hand as he silently begged him to come back to him.
"Sir, we need to move him somewhere warm immediately or he's at risk of frostbite," he was told as he nodded silently; not breaking his hold on Justin's hand, he walked with them over to the back gate and into the fenced-in area, his eyes never leaving the still form beside him. As they entered the back of the house with the stretcher, he glanced over briefly to make sure that Gus was being attended to by another paramedic at the kitchen table; Mel and Lindsay were sitting next to him, Lindsay's arm around his shoulders comfortingly as the man checked his vital signs.
As soon as the door slid open, however, Gus jumped up from his place at the table, followed by Tricky who had been sitting underneath in his customary spot. "Jus'n!" he shouted in alarm as he ran over to the blond, his face contorted with worry. "Is he going to be okay? Why is he asleep, Daddy?"
Brian swallowed hard, not knowing yet what was wrong but also knowing how terrified his son was over Justin's condition; he certainly didn't want to add to his fears. "He's going to be fine, Gus," he told him adamantly. "The paramedics are going to fix him up good as new."
He watched as Gus walked around to the other side of the gurney and clasped Justin's other hand as he instructed the fireman and paramedic, "In here," and led them down the hallway and into the living room where the fire was thankfully still blazing, providing some much-needed warmth. The festive decorations seemed to mock Brian as he stared worriedly at his partner's still form, the normal beautiful alabaster skin blackened and sooty-looking.
"Justin," Brian murmured as the men set his partner down gently on the large, oval-shaped area rug and the paramedic began to check his heart with a stethoscope and take his pulse. "Wake up, Sunshine. Please wake up." At that moment, everything that had happened the past week promptly drained from his mind as he concentrated on the one thing that mattered: his partner's life and how empty his own would be if he wasn't in it. He didn't care at that moment how atypical or emotional his pleas sounded coming from his lips as he kept softly encouraging Justin to regain consciousness. "Come on, Justin; open your eyes! I love you, damn it! God…Please, don't do this!" If something happens to you after the way we had parted earlier…He squeezed his eyes tightly together for a moment, unable to even consider that thought, UNWILLING to consider it.
The men exchanged glances with each other over the man's heartfelt words as the paramedic continued to check Justin's vitals while the fireman held the oxygen mask over Justin's nose and mouth. "His vital signs are strong," the fireman told him encouragingly as Brian nodded mutely; he wouldn't be satisfied, no matter how strong they were, until Justin regained consciousness and he knew he was all right.
As Brian wearily brushed his other hand through his hair, he watched as Gus reached over and softly stroked Justin's cheek near the hard plastic mask. "Wake up, Papa," he crooned softly. "It's time to wake up." Brian's eyes misted over at the mention of the word papa, but he couldn't say he was surprised by it; Gus had thought of Justin as his other father for a long time now.
Suddenly, Justin's body jerked as his eyes flew open in momentary disorientation and he coughed into the mask as he struggled to sit up from his constraints.
"Justin!" Brian cried out in relief as he placed his hand on the slim shoulder. "Don't sit up," he commanded as the paramedic removed the mask from his face and Justin gasped out a breath.
"Actually, it's probably better that he does," the paramedic told him as he gently helped Justin to a sitting position on the gurney. "Take some deep breaths, Son."
Justin tightened his grip on Brian's hand as he struggled to inhale oxygen through his damaged lungs; Brian placed his free hand around Justin as he rubbed gentle circles on his back. Justin's grasp was surprisingly strong as he held tightly onto Brian's hand in a painful clutch, but Brian didn't care; at that moment, to him it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
Justin turned to look over at Gus. "Okay?" he asked hoarsely before he coughed again.
"I'm fine, Papa," he told Justin as he reached over to hug him around the neck, enormously relieved that Justin was finally awake. "I was so scared when I didn't see you! Are you okay?"
Justin managed a weak smile and a nod. "Never better," he managed to croak out, wanting to reassure Brian's son. "You were very brave."
"Justin!" Mel cried out as she and Lindsay came rushing in. "Thank God! Is he all right?"
"I think he'll be okay," the paramedic told them as he held an ophthalmoscope up to look into Justin's eyes to check for any retina damage; after several seconds he nodded in satisfaction before he advised, "I would recommend he be checked out at the hospital just to make sure, though."
"No," Justin protested, his voice raspy and weak. "No hospital." He turned to look pleadingly into Brian's eyes.
"Justin…"
But his partner shook his head firmly. "No…Please." He coughed again almost violently as Brian continued to stroke his back soothingly. "No," he repeated.
Brian sighed as he looked over at the paramedic; he knew Justin would be downright bullheaded about it if he insisted, but he suppose he couldn't blame him. "He's had some bad experiences with hospitals," he offered by way of explanation. "Couldn't I just keep a close eye on him here? If he gets worse I'll force him to go to the hospital, even if I have to use a fireman's carry to do it."
The fireman smiled at Brian's vow as the paramedic pondered his request; he had a strong suspicion that this determined man would do just that for his partner if the need arose. He finally nodded in agreement. "I guess that would be okay, since he's conscious and his vitals are strong; I don't see any retina damage, either, which is a good sign." He turned to look at Justin as he advised, "It may take a few days for the smoke to completely clear from your lungs and your voice may be sore and hoarse for a while. If you notice any trouble breathing at all, or if your voice gets any worse, I would seek treatment immediately. In the meantime, get plenty of rest to allow your body to recover."
"Don't worry; I'm not letting him out of my sight," Brian promised as he curled his hand around Justin's shoulder, grateful for the familiar warmth; it was a feeling that for just a brief moment in time he thought he might not ever feel again. Justin, worn out from all of the day's events, leaned into Brian's side for comfort, closing his eyes as the weariness seeped into every part of his body.
"In fact, if you're done looking him over, I'm taking him up to bed," Brian told the paramedic as the man nodded his agreement.
Justin's eyes fluttered open in weak protest. "Brian…"
"Don't argue with me, Sunshine," Brian softly scolded him, not caring if either stranger heard his endearment for his partner as he slid his hands under Justin's thighs and stood up with him in his arms. Justin's feeble protest that he could walk upstairs without any help faded away as he looked into Brian's determined face. Nodding in resigned acquiescence, he laid his head against Brian's chest as his partner began to carry him down the hallway and over toward the stairs.
"Gus…" Lindsay said as the boy hopped up and Tricky promptly rose to his feet to follow after the two men. "Justin – and YOU – both need some rest. You can see him later. Your father will take good care of him."
"But Mommy…"
Mel, the authoritarian in their family, spoke up. "No, Baby, you've had more than enough excitement for one night, and in case you've forgotten, you need to be in bed before Santa will come." She nodded over toward the plate of cookies and eggnog. "See – he hasn't been here yet because he hasn't eaten what you left him," she pointed out the evidence, ever in attorney mode. "If you don't go up to bed now, there's a chance he won't be able to come before daylight. I'm sure your father will make sure that Justin is fine until you can see him again tomorrow; you heard what the paramedic said. He needs his rest as well."
Gus nodded in reluctance; he dearly wanted to see Justin to make sure he really was okay, but he also was still a little boy waiting for Santa to arrive and he wanted his presents. "Okay, Momma," he agreed as she took his hand to lead him upstairs.
She turned to Lindsay. "I'm going to give him a quick bath, Linds, to get all this soot and smoke off him and I'll put him to bed if you can handle whatever needs to be done down here."
Lindsay nodded, silently understanding that it was going to be her responsibility to not only take care of the paramedic and firemen but also play Santa for their child and make sure all of Gus's presents were under the tree before he woke up later that morning. The two of them had stayed up late having to do some last-minute assembling of a bike for Gus that they hadn't had time yet to place all of Santa's presents under the tree; it was probably very fortuitous in hindsight since it helped spur their child to go to bed now.
Turning her attention back to the emergency personnel still congregated in Brian's living room, she signed off on the necessary acknowledgments as they explained the fire marshal would be back the day after tomorrow to try and establish a cause for the blaze which appeared to be accidental at this point; as soon as they had departed, she made her way over to the window seat where she and Mel had managed to stow Gus's presents from Santa to begin the arduous but necessary task of arranging them around the tree.
Brian didn't hear a peep out of his exhausted partner the entire time he was carrying him up the steps; he was always kidding Justin about how much he ate, but as he held him in his arms he realized how light he really was. He took a moment to cherish the strong heartbeat he felt against his body, taking solace that Justin was, indeed, here in his embrace and had once more dodged a potential lethal bullet. How many times would that have to happen in their lifetimes, he wondered? Too many, he decided. ONE time was one too many as far as his soulmate was concerned.
As Justin snuggled a little deeper into his hold, he silently berated himself for keeping their disagreement simmering to the point where it could have been too late to do something about it. If Justin had been seriously hurt tonight – or worse – he never would have forgiven himself. The thought of nearly losing him again made him realize what was – and wasn't – important. Yes, trust and honesty were important, but deep down he had understood why Justin had done what he had done. He hadn't liked it, but he understood; he wasn't exactly the most open-minded person when it came to his partner and any possible competition for his affections was always met with suspicion and wariness, even though he knew Justin's love for him was real and binding. They would have to work at improving their open communication with each other, perhaps - BOTH of them needed it; but tonight, he was more concerned with taking care of his partner and letting him know that no matter what happened – or what WILL happen in the future – his love for him would never change.
He cradled his cheek against the top of Justin's ash-covered head as he reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hallway toward their master bedroom. He could easily detect the odor of smoke invading every follicle of the normally golden, sweet-smelling hair, but he didn't care; it helped him to remember that Justin had saved his son's life tonight and how close his partner had come to losing his own life in the process. He closed his eyes briefly as if to force the thought out of his mind before arriving at the bedroom door; he didn't hesitate as he bypassed the bed and walked over, instead, to the adjoining, spacious bathroom. It was only when they were next to the shower stall that he reluctantly lowered Justin to the floor; as Justin slowly emerged from his drowsy state and stood up to face him, Brian automatically began to unbutton his shirt. At that moment he wouldn't have cared if Justin smelled like a sewer or a garbage dump before putting him to bed, but he knew from a health standpoint that with his allergies it wouldn't be wise or healthy for him to inhale smoke all night as he slept.
Justin stared back at his partner, his eyes shining back at him like a beacon through his smoky-colored face; Brian's heart lurched at the sight, so reminiscent of another time years ago when he had gone seeking Justin the night of that horrible bombing. It was way too similar to back then, and the same type of pain and anguish that he had felt that night came rushing back to him as he contemplated what could have been lost forever before he had had a chance to tell Justin how he really felt.
As if reading his mind, Justin reached out and cupped his hand around Brian's cheek. "I'm okay," he whispered, his voice still raspy from the smoke. "I'll be fine. You don't have to do this."
"The fuck I don't," Brian growled as he gently swatted Justin's hands away from his shirt. "You're dead on your feet. Let me take care of you," he asked gruffly, the emotion evident in his voice. Justin nodded as he locked gazes with Brian's, dropping his hands to his side in mute acceptance as Brian finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid it off his shoulders for it to fall down upon the marble floor. Brian sucked in a breath at the marked contrast of pale, creamy-colored skin and the sooty, grayish flesh that had been exposed to the smoke and fire.
Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he reached to unbutton Justin's jeans and unzip them, grasping the pants and Justin's briefs to slowly pull them down the slender body. He squatted down as Justin raised each leg in turn so his partner could remove drenched socks, realizing for the first time that Justin had apparently been sleeping when the fire had occurred and had given Gus his boots to wear for protection, bypassing his own needs. He paused for a moment to gently massage Justin's feet one at a time, turning them slightly to examine them closely for any signs of frostbite. To his relief, they felt cold as hell, but there was nothing that appeared remiss; the skin was pink and slightly wrinkled like it normally was.
He slowly rose to his feet to find Justin watching him intently. "I noticed you gave Gus your boots to wear." He phrased it as a statement of fact, not a question as Justin shrugged slightly. Brian shook his head as he felt his eyes watering over the love he felt more and more each day for this incredible man who had such great love for his child.
"I love him," Justin stated softly in explanation.
Brian nodded. "I know," he whispered. "And I love you."
He noticed Justin's eyes widening at that declaration and the blue eyes clouding up, threatening to spill the tears lying there, but he pretended not to notice as he quickly stripped out of his own clothes. Taking Justin's wrist firmly but gently to tug him toward the shower stall, he opened the door to turn the showerhead on, impatiently waiting for it to warm up to a sufficient level before he stepped in with Justin following along behind him.
His partner looked like he could sleep for the next week as he stood there swaying slightly while Brian took a bar of French milled soap from a nearby shelf and, holding it under the shower stream briefly, began to gently rub it over Justin's neck to remove the fire residue from his body, exposing the familiar alabaster skin underneath. He lathered the soap generously in the palms of his hands and placed it down on the shelf before reaching over to stroke his fingers over Justin's sooty face as his partner closed his eyes to keep the soap away, his hand reaching out to grasp Brian's bicep for support. Brian took longer than needed to worship every curve of his lover's face; the slope of his nose, the full, plush lips, the small indentation in his chin, his jaw, his delicate ears, everything; almost as if he realized how he might not have ever had this opportunity again if events had gone differently before he gently pushed Justin under the running water to rinse all of the horrible evidence of the past few hours away.
He made sure to wash every inch of Justin's hair and skin, turning him around at one point to hold him against his body, his arms winding around his waist in part comfort and part reassurance before at last his partner once more resembled the beautiful man he had the pleasure of admiring constantly. He had to smile as he realized that despite Justin's total exhaustion and weariness, his cock apparently hadn't suffered the same fate; he could feel it becoming hard in his hand as he washed the shaft in an up and down motion. He heard a soft moan of longing from his lover as he whispered in his ear from behind, "You're going to have to wait a while, Sunshine, until the rest of your body catches up. But don't worry; I'll make sure both our dicks get fully reacquainted later."
Finally satisfied that Justin was as clean as he was going to get, he reached to turn the faucet off and pulled him gently out of the shower, reaching for a heated towel to dry every inch of his body almost reverently before using the same towel to quickly do a cursory job on himself. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty," he teased Justin as he pulled him toward the bedroom; Justin's eyes fluttered as he half-walked, half-stumbled toward the bedroom; Brian, seeing him faltering, again scooped him up into his arms and, lesbionic context be damned, carried him the few steps over to the bed and, reaching down to quickly pull the covers back, gently laid him down on the sateen sheets. He took a moment to admire the beauty of his lover peering up at him before he walked around to the other side of the bed and joined Justin under the sheets. Almost of one accord, the two lovers turned on their sides to face each other.
Brian could clearly see Justin struggling to stay awake as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Justin…"
But his partner shook his head. "No…Let me talk," he insisted, his voice cracking a little; Brian thought he sounded just a bit stronger now, however, as he said, "I'm sorry for what happened."
"Shit, Justin," Brian quietly growled as he reached to clasp his hand; his partner threaded his slender fingers through his as he told him, "You saved my son's life tonight! Let's not talk about that anymore; it's over with. We both could have handled it better, okay? But it's not important now. Tonight made me realize what's important and what's not important, and that is so way down on the list." He scooted over a little closer to his partner as he told him, "What is important is that we're together, and you and Gus are both safe and sound."
"But…"
"Justin Taylor, do you always have to have the last word, even when you sound like a male version of Kathleen Turner?" Justin smiled at him sheepishly as he nodded.
Brian curled his lips under as he admitted, "Although, I have to confess it does sound kind of sexy in a way. But I prefer the old voice." He squeezed Justin's hand. "Now you go to sleep and get some rest. I know a little boy that despite all the excitement tonight will be back up at the break of dawn, which I'm guessing will be in about four hours' time. Now close your eyes," he whispered. "And I'll be right here when you wake up."
Justin blinked through unshed tears as he nodded. Brian watched as the golden eyelashes fluttered closed before he scooted even closer and wrapped his free hand around Justin's waist. The last thing he remembered before he, too, drifted off to sleep was Justin's voice whispering to him, "I love you, too."
A/N: I'll have at least an epilogue to this one before I'm done - thank you again for all the comments!:P)
