Chapter 37 – How to clear a room

In the corridor outside of the hospital room, Tank listened to Brian's voice softly murmuring, "To get attacked, all you have to be is queer." When no further words came out of the room, he grinned and turned to Axe with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "You were right about one thing. These two don't do boring. Which one of us gets to go meet Oprah?"

"I get Oprah." Axe's beautiful, chocolate eyes lit up with laughter at the disgruntled look he received. "I agree; it is nice to work for somebody interesting for a change." His smug smile fell off his face as Gareth rounded a corner, coming towards them with a determined stride. As the younger man reached them, Axe knew something was up from the satisfaction in Gareth's eyes. "What have you learned?"

Gareth stopped immediately outside Brian's door. "We found the shooter. His buddy called him right after he picked the bugged phone back up. The shooter's in a warehouse on the south end of Pittsburgh. We fed him to the cops and he should be in custody within the hour."

"Excellent," Axe murmured. "We've now got Hobbs - our bomber and Lofts - our shooter, behind bars. Neither of them is going to see the light of day for years. That just leaves Stockwell and the other kid, Joe Borden."

Gareth's eyes wrinkled, the gray highlighted by the bright hospital lighting. "Stockwell's behind everything - the shooting, the bombing, everything. We're not going to be able to convict him of anything because conspiracy is always a hard sell and we've got no legal phone records, e-mails or contact. Hobbs isn't talking and I doubt Lofts will, either." He moved abruptly away from Brian's door as he realized his voice was getting louder. Axe and Tank followed him to the opposite side of hallway. "Stockwell's trying to persuade his third acolyte to set fire to Kinnetic."

Axe snorted with disgust. "Stockwell really doesn't care about collateral damage, does he?"

"No. Borden refused - told Stockwell he was done with it." Gareth continued; face grim as he imparted his news. "Stockwell isn't going to stop. He's going to find somebody else."

"Any ideas?" Tank queried softly.

Gareth's eyes hardened as he thought about his new friends at Kinnetic, currently at risk of being burned alive by a madman. "I'm thinking a twisted Capone frame would do it."

Tank stared at Gareth in shock, "You can pull that off?" At Gareth's grim nod, Tank shook his head in awe. "Well, shit. You are good with computers, aren't you?"

"Yes."

The simple statement convinced Tank more than any protestations of competence could have. "How are you going to find the porn?" he asked suspiciously.

"Unfortunately, a previous job gave me access to way too much of that shit."

Axe saw the memories filling Gareth's face and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "What else do you need?"

"Cypher," Gareth said softly, his eyes lighting at the thought of the most complex security software on the planet. It could break into any system and never leave a trace. "If the colonel gets it for me, I'll consider us even. Without it – I might be traced. With it, Stockwell's going down and his cop buddies will do it for us."

"The colonel's not going to be happy," Axe's eyes shone at the thought. "I love it. I'll call him. What else?"

"He's not going to just give the Kid Cypher," Tank protested.

"I think the colonel will help." Axe looked into the stormy gray eyes, "Anything else?"

"About a million cash to make it feasible. Anything less and somebody might smell the trap."

Tank warned, "I don't know what debt he feels he has, the colonel's not going to be able to spring that much for this."

"Shit. You're right." Gareth's brow creased in thought. "I can siphon it off illegally, but somebody might notice. It's too much for Kinney to put up without leaving traces. He's not quite rich enough. Any ideas?"

Tank shifted his massive frame, considering the possibilities. "How about the lady who raised the stink with the agency in the first place? Isn't Tilda Avery richer than Midas?"

Gareth considered the idea. "That might work. There's no way to link her to the mess here and she does seem to care about Taylor. I'll get the colonel to vouch for me and call her."

Axe cut off the conversation, seeing Emmett arriving, accompanied by three older women. "Incoming," he said softly. Gareth glanced sharply down the hallway, nodded to Axe and Tank and took off in the opposite direction from the arrivals.

Tank knocked lightly on Brian's hospital room door, pausing for a moment before opening it. He smiled, brow only slightly arched at the sight of Justin and Brian moving out of a kiss. "You've got company coming down the hall."

Brian frowned at Justin as he started to take off his dressing gown. "I knew this was too good to last."

Justin shrugged, grinning as he helped Brian back into the bed. "Too bad you didn't get shot in New York. Then you wouldn't have all this family to worry about."

Brian laughed with a tongue in cheek smirk. "Not true. You found me a whole new family there, too."

Justin stared at his lover, concerned at the awkward movements. "You do know if you get hurt again because of me, I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Don't worry, Sunshine." Brian grunted in pain as he climbed back into bed. "You might be willing to sacrifice for the cause, but I have no intention of going back into the line of fire."

Justin gave Brian's bandaged test a light rub. "Now why don't I believe you?" He groaned as Joan, Debbie, Emmett and his mother walked through the door. "They didn't come while I was at Kinnetic?"

Brian's lips lifted into a smug smile. "They came, but I told them I needed a nap, so they should come back in four or five hours. That way you can defend me."

"Thanks a fucking lot," Justin muttered under his breath.

Brian burst out laughing, before paling at the sudden pain in his chest. "God, don't make me laugh."

"What the fuck's so funny?" Deb demanded.

"It's hard to explain." Justin caught Brian's eye, threatening payback.

Debbie stared at the two men for a moment before moving into a room and jabbing a long, red, fingernail toward Justin. "You are coming home with me. I don't want you alone in the loft when somebody's trying to kill you."

Justin groaned again, glancing at Brian to see him covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. "Deb, I'm fine. I've got bodyguards."

"The shooter can find you at that fucking loft. Every gay man in Pittsburgh knows where it is." She patted Justin on the shoulder while shooting Brian an accusatory look. "Most of them have been there. But if you're at my place, the bad guys won't know where to look for you."

"That's not true, Debbie." Jennifer moved to put a hand on son's shoulder. "Everyone on Liberty Avenue knows that Justin lived with you for years. It wasn't exactly a secret." Justin shot his mother a look of undying gratitude that turned rapidly to horror as she continued. "He should come home with me. No one would expect that."

Joan snorted softly. "By that logic, he should come home with me. That would be truly unexpected." At Justin's terrified expression and the confounded looks of the other two women, she chuckled softly, sharing a wicked, teasing look with her son. "Just joking, Justin – although you are welcome."

Brian stared in astonishment at his mother, starting in surprise as the hospital room door swung out again and a slightly rumpled Marc Ryan stepped in, filling the room even further with his massive frame.

Justin recovered first. "Marc, what are you doing here? I didn't think you had a hockey game in town."

"An old friend of mine called and suggested I drop by Pittsburgh for a visit. She's not a good person to ignore." Marc moved nearer to Brian, taking in the pale face.

"Who were you visiting, Sweetie?" Emmett asked.

"You probably don't know him – well her. Her name's Marilyn. We got to know each other as kids and have stayed in touch. She suggested I come over here today." Marc smiled at Brian. "I would have dropped in anyway, but I would have waited a day or two to let you recover."

"Mysterious Marilyn," Emmett's incredulous expression was comical. "Mysterious Marilyn asked you to drop by to see Brian. Let me guess – she just read the lines."

Marc grinned at Emmett and said, "You know her and yes, she did mention that God wrote the script." He turned back to Justin. "Aunt Tilda asked me to say hi, too. She wanted to let you know that you can stay at her place until the church is renovated. It has state of the art security." Marc's heart-shaped face relaxed into a beautiful smile at Justin's shocked expression. "I told you. You've been adopted."

Debbie moved into the window's light on the other side of Justin. "I don't give a shit what Aunt Tilda says – whoever she is. Justin's coming back to my place."

Marc chuckled at the thought of Debbie going head-to-head with Tilda. "I should warn you, Debbie. What Aunt Tilda wants, she generally gets. However, her invitation only matters when Justin is in New York."

The door opened again and Lindsay and Gus entered.

"Daddy," Gus yelled as he launched himself at the bed, quickly pulling himself up to assume his rightful place, tucked in at Brian's side.

Joan's eyes filled with tears then closed briefly before whispering. "Daddy?"

"Shit," Brian muttered, looking regretful for one of the first times in his life. "I…" he started before the hospital door slammed open, a still irate Jared standing fuming in the center of the door.

"Well!" the agent demanded. "Did you talk some sense into him? Is he going to do the show?" He looked around the room in surprise at the numbers before grinning wickedly at Emmett, moving further into the room to taking the taller man's arm. "Hey, Emmett."

"Jared," Emmett gave a brief, not terribly flamboyant nod.

"Good to see you again." With the niceties out of the way, Jared once again turned to Brian. "Well?"

"Ask Justin!" Brian's rubbed his brow, trying to soothe the headache starting to form behind his eyes. "He makes his own decisions."

"Here, let me," Marc murmured softly, moving behind Brian to gently massage his temples.

Jared turned towards Justin, frustration evident, and demanded. "And the answer is?"

The door to the hospital room opened again and Gareth entered. He stared, appalled at the crowd of people in front of him, taking in Brian's pale face. "God in the heavens above - What kind of idjits are ya? The man just got shot." He frowned at the sight of Jared's hand on Emmett's arm; a slight smile coming back as Emmett angrily shook the hand off. Gareth pointed at Brian. "Look at him!"

Everyone turned to stare at Brian who immediately sank into the bed, closing his eyes with a slight groan and trying to look sicker than he felt. Regretful looks appeared on almost all faces. Debbie, watching Brian closely, simply rolled her eyes cynically.

"Daddy," Gus asked softly, his small face concerned as he leaned into his father. "You okay? Did I hurts you?"

Brian gave a rueful sigh, sat up and pulled Gus in closer, still startlingly pale. "No. You didn't hurt me – you couldn't. I'm just tired. Hugging you makes me feel better."

"Really?" Gus' beamed at the thought.

"Really, Sonnyboy."

"Daddy?" Joan's voice broke as she repeated the word.

Brian's eyes moved over Lindsay's anxious face before looking down at his son. Glaring back at his mother, he drew a line in the sand. "We'll talk later, Joan. Maybe we can work something out."

"Maybe! But…" Joan acquiesced in the face of Brian's glare. "I'd like that," Joan nodded, staring hungrily at Gus. "Very much."

"Maybe," Brian stressed.

"That's all very nice," snarled Jared from where he stood glaring at Justin. "But are you coming?"

As the attention of the room shifted to Justin and his agent, Marc moved back in and started massaging Brian's temples again. Brian gave a groan of relief as he continued to watch his mother.

Debbie's irritated voice responded. "What the fuck are you talking about? Sunshine isn't going with you. He's coming with me." She jabbed a sharp, red nail towards Jared's face. "And who are you anyway?"

"My agent," Justin told her, a warning in his tone. Debbie stepped back immediately, momentarily flummoxed.

"Actually, Debbie," Jennifer interjected, "I really believe it would be better if Justin went…"

Justin's voice cut over his mothers, "If Justin went to Chicago."

Brian's head turned sharply from watching his mother watch Gus, face lighting with an overbearing smirk as the room exploded around him, overlapping voices demanding to know what was in Chicago.

"Thank God." The tension left Jared at Justin's announcement.

Justin shot his gloating agent an irritated look as he announced. "I guess I'm going to be on Oprah." Everyone responded at once, making the room sound like a crowded restaurant. Behind Brian, Marc suddenly paled, staggered and almost fell. Emmett, the only one who noticed in the tumult of the Oprah announcement, rushed over to grab Marc and hold him upright.

"Jesus," Gareth muttered under his breath before raising his voice to cut across the room. "Do you people have no sense at all?" At the puzzled looks he received, he tried again. "I'm sure the man's touched you all care so much, but he just got shot." Seeing the continued lack of comprehension, he enunciated clearly while simplifying the problem. "Mr. Kinney needs to rest. You all need to leave."

Debbie looked sharply at Brian, who was watching the scene with interest, then reached out and grabbed Justin by the ear. "You're coming with me. I need an explanation."

Justin glanced helplessly at Brian who sat up in the bed and started laughing. "I'll be back."

Marc straightened away from Emmett, murmuring, "I'm fine, thanks." The two tall men left the room together, Emmett keeping a watchful eye for any sign of faintness.

Gareth watched as everyone slowly left the room. Gus was the last to leave, with a sweet, little kiss on his father's cheek and a promise to come back soon.

As the door closed, Brian leaned back against the pillow and looked at Gareth appraisingly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Kinney." Gareth moved to close the blinds, ensuring no one could see in.

"You're no longer on probation. Cynthia was right about you. You're coming to New York. And call me Brian."

Gareth laughed, a slightly wicked little sound. "Certainly, sir."

Brian straightened up in the bed, shifting his weight easily. "Get me Axe, would you? I need to know if they've made any progress on finding the shooter or Stockwell."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Gareth looked closely at Brian, noting the improved color and lack of pain lines around the eyes. "You do look better."

"I'm feeling much better now that you've managed to clear the room of all my loved ones," Brian responded sardonically.

"They are an interesting and passionate group, sir." Gareth walked out and asked Axe to come in.

"What have you learned?" Brian demanded as Axe entered.

"We've given the police the location of your shooter. We've also linked Jim Stockwell to the shooting and the bombing."

Brian leaned back, satisfied with the progress. "What will Stockwell be charged with?"

Axe, knowing that Brian wasn't going to be happy with his next response, shifted uneasily. "We don't have enough evidence to go to the police and I don't think we ever will."

"Shit," Brian got out of the bed, walking to the closet to rout around in his jacket. Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it up and leaned against the wall, eyes closed. "We can't just let that fucker get away with it."

Axe glanced at Gareth, a question in his eyes. At the positive nod, he laid out the plan for Brian. "Let me explain what a twisted Capone frame is and you can let me know how you like the idea."

Brian's face broadened into a beautiful smile as he listened.