Disclaimer : Once again, Cabaret is not mine. And once again, I have borrowed a few scenes from the film for flashback-type purposes.
A/N: No one is reading my story. ::sniffle::


Surprisingly enough, the news hit Brian first. It felt like a slap in the face more than anything; he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to Sally, and now the doctor had just broken the news of her death and directed it completely at Jonathan. "I'm sorry, Jonathan," he had said. Of course. Everyone would be sorry for Jonathan. After all, he loved her, and she had loved him back. Brian couldn't believe the irony of the situation—if it had not been for him, Jonathan and Sally would never have even met, and the only reason they did meet was because Brian loved her so much and asked Jonathan to see that she was doing all right in Berlin. Doing all right…well, she certainly had been doing all right then. But she was gone now, and no one could fix it. Not the doctor, not Jonathan, not Brian. No one. Brian was angry, angry because he had not had the chance to tell her how he felt-the conversation they had been in the middle of had only consisted of her feelings for him so far. He kept telling himself that she must have known that he still loved her. He had said it once, but not how he had intended to. And the baby that never was…Max's baby. Not his. It was just as well then, except for the fact that had Sally not had the abortion, she and Brian would still have been together. He knew that. He would never have left her that way and…she would never, ever have left him. They would have gotten married because of that baby, and now it seemed almost silly because it hadn't even been his. But he had loved her that much…she had told him from the beginning that she didn't know whose it was, but they had decided they didn't care. Brian kept thinking of the night they had spent sitting on the floor of their bedroom—Sally had covered the entire room with candles—laughing and drinking and planning their future together. Some future it had turned out to be…at any rate, certainly not what they had planned that night.
Brian sat on the floor in the hallway, leaning against the wall, crying quietly and thinking of everything he wished he would have been able to say to Sally. But she had asked for Jonathan, not him. He understood—she wanted to say goodbye to the man she loved, and it was only fair that Jonathan get to say goodbye to her first, but…Brian knew Sally must have wanted to see him. True, they had been talking beforehand, and she had told him that she still loved him, but he wanted to be able to say it back to her. He thought that her intentions had possibly been to say goodbye to Jonathan first and foremost, and then to ask the doctor to tell him to come in…but she had just been too sick. Or maybe he was wrong, maybe she hadn't wanted to see him at all for whatever reason. Either way, he had not been able to tell her everything he had to say. He looked at Jonathan, who was sitting at the top of the stairs, weeping, his head in his hands. They hadn't said anything to each other since the doctor had told them she had died. Brian wanted to go and talk to Jonathan, for moral support if nothing else, but he knew it wasn't a good idea—not yet, at least.
******
Jonathan was trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. Just an hour ago, he and Sally had been promising each other that there would be no more secrets in their relationship and declaring their love, and then the next thing he knew, Dr. Warren had come out of Sally's room saying that he was sorry, but she was gone. Dead. Sally was dead. Jonathan hadn't realized what the doctor had said at first, it just didn't register with him because he didn't think it could be real. He knew that Sally was dying, he had known that for two weeks, but somewhere in the back of his mind he had just thought that she would never actually be gone. But she was now, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had done everything in his power to take care of her, done everything he could to keep her well for as long as possible, yet she had died anyway. It was sooner than he expected—much sooner than he expected.
Deep down, Jonathan felt bad for Brian. He didn't know what Sally had said to Brian while he was out of the room, but he figured it wasn't what Brian had hoped to hear. And Brian had not been able to say goodbye to her…Jonathan felt guilty about that, though he didn't quite know why. He felt as if he should have let Brian come with him when he went in to see Sally for the last time, even though Brian hadn't asked to do so at the time. And Jonathan knew he hadn't been thinking clearly then, or else he probably would have told Brian to join him. He glanced over at Brian, sitting in the hallway outside Sally's room. Or, rather, what had been Sally's room. He kept hearing her voice in his head: "Promise me…that you and Brian will be friends again…" That was what she wanted. She wanted the two most important men in her life to rekindle the friendship they had once had, before she had come into the picture. Jonathan sighed. If that was what Sally wanted…if that was what Sally wanted, then he was going to have to make the effort. He couldn't live with himself otherwise. Slowly, he got up and walked over to where Brian was sitting. Brian looked up. "How are you, Jonathan?" he asked quietly.
"I'm…I'll be all right," Jonathan replied, sitting down across from Brian in the hallway. "How are you?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Why?"
"I didn't even get to say goodbye to her."
"I know." Jonathan could tell his friend was angry. "Brian, if there's something you need to say, just say it."
"All right. It's not fair, Jonathan."
"What's not fair?"
"This whole thing. I loved her. I loved her just as much as you did and maybe even more. And it isn't fair because she loved me too! She loved both of us, Jonathan. But she knew—she knew what would happen if she and I tried to start anything again. Sally and I…we never should have split up in the first place. If we had just stayed together and gone through with everything we planned…we would have been fine."
"Brian, even if all that had happened, Sally would still have gotten sick and nothing would be any different than it is now."
"No, everything would be different. Sally and I would have been married by now. Didn't you tell me that she said she was going to regret never being able to get married?"
Jonathan nodded solemnly. "Yes, she said that."
"You see, then? That's one reason why this isn't fair. There was one thing that Sally wanted that she never got—one thing she would have had before she died if we had stayed together. Jonathan, the only reason you and Sally ever even met at all was because of me—because I loved her. And in the end, I was the one who didn't get the chance to tell her goodbye. I was the one who had a substantial relationship with her at one point in time, and it was because of that relationship's demise that you and Sally met. And I just can't help but think, what if I had stayed in Berlin?"
"Brian. Don't do this to yourself. Either way, she would still be gone now."
"I know that. But at least she would have died knowing that I loved her."
"She knew, Bri."
"No, she didn't. She thought I was angry about you and about the baby…"
Jonathan hesitated for moment, then said, "So the baby wasn't yours, then?"
"No. Of course not. And isn't it ironic—I was going to marry her and it wasn't even mine, and she said that was why she did it. Because it wasn't mine and she thought that was the reason I was marrying her."
"So…this is about you thinking Sally never knew how you felt about her?"
"Not entirely. Jonathan, you knew her for a month, if even that. I knew her for nearly a year, counting the time I was here and she was still in Berlin. I loved her for that long, and she loved me too. She told me so. And when I went to meet you at the station when you got back from Berlin and I saw you walking toward me arm-in-arm with Sally…I felt betrayed. By both of you."
"It wasn't supposed to happen that way."
"It doesn't matter how it was supposed to happen. What matters is what did happen, and what did happen was that my best friend and the woman I loved went behind my back and—"
"Don't bring Sally into that situation. It wasn't her fault. That was all my wrongdoing…all right? I promised her I would call you and tell you what was going on before we left Berlin, and I broke that promise. So don't blame her." The two men just sat staring at each other in silence for a minute. "I didn't mean to fall in love with her, Brian."
"I know that. And you know what—I didn't mean to fall in love with her either. We were friends first. She always wanted to be more than that, and I resisted for a while. I don't know why. I wanted to be with her from the moment I met her. But I was afraid to get too involved…with Sally, with anyone. But when I finally gave into her, I…I never wanted to let her go."
"Then why did you?"
"I didn't think I could trust her anymore. She had gone behind my back—deliberately gone behind my back and I just didn't think I could forgive her. And she wanted too much. When I thought about it, really thought about it, I realized how little I was actually offering her. Moving back here with me, her sitting around the house all day while I was at work…she wanted more than that."
"Did she ever actually tell you what she wanted, Bri?"
"She always said she wanted to be an actress. A real actress, like in the movies."
"She told you that?"
"Yes, many times. I just thought…I just thought it was better for her, better for her career if she stayed there in Berlin, working at the Club. She had more of a chance of being…discovered there." He laughed. "She was sure it was going to happen some day. Sure that Max Rheinhart or Erich von Stroheim or someone was going to waltz into the Club and make her the next Gloria Swanson."
Jonathan smiled. "That sounds like Sally."
"Jonathan," Brian began after a few minutes, "Why did you ask her to come here with you?"
Jonathan thought for a moment. "I thought it was better for her. I thought she deserved more than a tiny room in a boardinghouse in Berlin. She was so talented and I thought…I really was going to get her some auditions out here. She could have been something, Bri."
"I know," Brian said quietly. "Did you love her then?"
"Yes, I…I think I did. Why are you asking me these things, Brian?"
"I just…I'm trying to understand why it worked out so well for her to come here with you and not with me."
"You know why she didn't come with you. You wouldn't let her. You said it yourself, you didn't trust her anymore." Both men were silent for a few minutes, then Jonathan spoke up again. "You do realize that there isn't any point in discussing this now?"
"Yes, I know. I just regret not taking the chance when I had it."
"I understand that, but Bri…she's gone now. Our arguing won't bring her back."

"I…I know that."

"Do you know what the last thing she said to me was?" Brian shook his head. "She made me promise her that you and I would be friends again. That's what she wanted, Brian."

"Did she really tell you that?"

Jonathan nodded. "I think she felt guilty…she felt like she came between us."

"Were you going to marry her?" Brian asked abruptly.

"What?"

"Were you going to marry her, Jonathan?"

"I…I don't know. We never discussed it. I suppose if she hadn't gotten sick, then—"

"Then you would have." There was an edge to his voice that bothered Jonathan. He couldn't believe Brian was being so unreasonable, asking such petty questions. It just wasn't like him.

"Why does it matter?" Jonathan sighed impatiently.

"Because then she would have been yours for good."

As far as Jonathan was concerned, that last statement had done it. "God, Brian, she wasn't a possession!" He was nearly shouting.

Brian stood up. "I'm finished with this, Jonathan." Without another word and without giving Jonathan a chance to respond, he turned around, went down the stairs, and proceeded to storm out of the house.