Set Immediately after Justin arrives at Babylon to tell everyone he's dropped out of college!

oOoOo

"What's that all about?" Michael asked. Like always, he expected Brian to have all the answers, well fuck if he was going to talk Justin down behind his back.

"Pain management," Brian answered before taking a swig of his drink. He watched the whole scene unfold carefully. He watched the way the men were buying Justin drinks, he scowled as he saw them pumping him full of poppers and alcohol when he was already wasted. It was when a guy leant in to kiss him and Justin just fell against the guys face oblivious to everything that Brian decided it was time to step in.

"Ooooookay," he said, grabbing Justin under the arms and steering him towards the exit. He needed to get the kid home and soon. Justin passed out in the jeep and Brian felt like leaving him there. He would have deserved it. The little twot knew better than to let himself get this fucked up in Babylon but Brian couldn't just abandon him, so he helped him to the loft and let him fall onto the bed.

Justin woke with a groan and Brian smirked to himself. Well, Justin would be paying the price for his wild night this morning.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Brian said in an overly cheerful way. "How are you this bright," he punctuated the word by opening the blinds and letting the sun blind his victim, "sunny morning?"

Justin turned over and buried his face in the pillow. His protests were lost as muffled mumbles into the bed but that didn't stop Brian.

"Excellent," he continued in the same tone. "You better get up then, you've got school in an hour."

"I'm not going," Justin said, before burying his head again.

"Why?" Brian drawled.

"I told you, I can't draw anymore. The Dean as good as told me I wasn't capable, so what's the point?"

"To show you are capable?"

"But I'm not!" Justin cried, pulling the pillow off his face and throwing it wildly. It hit the wardrobe with a soft thud and fell to the floor. He was glaring wildly at Brian now. "D'you know how long I can draw for before my hand turns into a claw?"

Brian drew his lips into his mouth. He could see Justin's expression, it was upset, desperate but above all determined. Brian knew that there was no way he would be able to get through to him while he was like this, so he just indulged the bratty queen out.

"How long?" he asked.

"Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! And then I need a rest. I just have to face it. My art career's over."

"Well if you walk around with that attitude," Brian frowned.

"What?" Justin snapped.

Brian took a deep breath and sighed heavily before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"When I was 24, I got a job designing adverts at this big company…"

"So?"

"… I had all these great ideas in my head but every time I presented one, the boss shot me down."

"What has this got to do with anything?"

"I didn't give up, I kept trying until eventually…"

"Wait," Justin interrupted. "Let me guess, the great Kinney persevered until he came up with a campaign the boss loved. Wow," he scorned, "what a hero? Should we swathe you in spandex and toss you from a high building?"

Brian stared at Justin for a moment and then shrugged and stood up. The kid was acting like a complete brat and Brian couldn't be bothered with it anymore. He missed the real Justin, the one who wasn't bitter when things went wrong; the one who kept fighting no matter what the odds. The one who'd fought so hard to be in this bed.

Brian lifted his briefcase and said with a sad kind of quiet tone,

"I'll see you later."

Set after work the day Brian see's the computer to help Justin draw!

oOoOo

When Brian had got back from work, Justin had been on the way out. He was going to Daphne's and Brian was almost relieved. He hoped Daphne would be able to get through to the kid in a way that he hadn't and it gave him time to set up the computer.

He'd been naïve to think that Justin would feel better when he got back to the flat that evening. The kid had been completely wasted yet again. When Brian had shown him the gift, Justin had nearly lost it and when he'd found the twink passed out on his bed from a mixture of stress, exhaustion and alcohol, Brian decided it was time to act in a different way. He needed a new course of action. He needed someone subtle, who could show Justin that things weren't as terrible as he was allowing himself to think.

He went to his phone and dialled a number.

"Low," was all the voice at the other end had to say.

Shit. This was all he needed, Gus to answer the goddamn phone but he had to try anyway, he really needed to speak to Lindsey

"Hey, Sonny boy, it's you're old man. Is you're mommy there?" he asked and then he muttered, "the nice one."

But the only response was, "dada!"

Christ! "Yeah, it's me," Brian tried again patiently, thought the irritated edge to his tone was impossible to miss. "Go and get mama."

"tray, tray," Gus shouted.

"We'll play trains next time I see you," Brian promised. He couldn't believe he was on the phone to a fourteen month old translating baby talk. What had his life become?. "But right now, I need you to give the phone to mommy."

"Mama," Gus said, and Brian could almost hear the proud grin in his voice. He sighed, it was clear he wasn't going to get to talk to Lindsey anytime soon.

"Yeah, sonny boy. That's good. You're starting to get this word thing, huh?" And that's when he heard it. He'd never been so grateful to hear Melanie's voice.

"Gus," she was complaining. "How many times have I told you not to answer the phone? I hope it's not someone important."

"Dada," Gus informed her proudly as the receiver was handed over. Brian was right in the middle of saying,

"Oh Gus, don't tell her that, she'll hang up on me," when Melanie asked who was speaking.

"Awww," Brian moaned, "I told him to give the phone to his nice mommy."

"What do you want?" Melanie growled.

"To speak to the mother of my child," Brian smirked, rubbing it in was too easy and too fun when it came to Melanie. "And speaking of my child, should you be letting him answer the phone all by himself? I mean, it's difficult to have a conversation over the phone with a someone that knows a maximum of ten words."

"Well, I'm talking to you and I'm not having any trouble?"

"Yeah, where's your better half?"

Brian heard Melanie yell to Lindsey that the phone was for her and then the muffled sounds of a receiver changing hands … again.

"Brian," Lindsey said happily. "You never call, what's up?"

"Do you still keep in contact with that artist friend in a wheelchair?"

"Sure, why?"

"I think Justin needs a bit of context when it comes to his hand."

"You know, that's an excellent idea. She's having a exhibit this week, I could take him down tomorrow?"

"Great, thanks Linds."