Disclaimer: Don't own anything except Amber Chanders. You can have her if you'd like, I don't need her anymore.

Alex's Note: For a while I've wanted to do a 'Brian deals with prom' fic, because as little as Justin gets to deal with it, Brian gets less. So, I thought, what better way to get it out in the open than a 'Justin goes to prom… again' fic? However, my choices for his date were very limited. It was either Hunter, Jenny Rebecca, Gus, or Molly. I opted for a new character. I had no choice, you see…

Anyway.

Awaiting the Inevitable

Despite everything, Justin couldn't help but be flattered when Daphne's sister, Amber, asked him to go to her prom with her.

"Just as friends," she had said casually, "I mean, I know you're, like, gay and everything."

He'd laughed at that, although it was a little forced. "You don't think you'd feel awkward going with me? You'd be there with someone so much older than everyone else there."

She shrugged and pushed a stray lock of curly hair out of her face, "I wouldn't have asked you if I thought it would be weird. I've known you, like, my entire life, Justin. You're like a brother to me, you know, and… well, I just couldn't think of anyone in my class I'd want to take, so I asked you. And besides," she grinned wickedly, "you look younger than everyone in my class."

Flattery, however, could only go so far. Even though so many years had passed, Justin still felt a cold sense of fear every time anyone mentioned the prom or the bashing. He didn't blame Amber, though. She had been young at the time, only eleven; old enough to know that something bad had happened- something that had her sister constantly in tears for much of the summer after graduation and had the local media banging down the front door to her house- but too young to understand it.

"I'll think about it," he told her.

"So, what do you think, Brian?" Justin asked that night after a particularly exhausting round of sex. Brian was curled around him, nearly asleep and drooling slightly onto his shoulder. Normally, the level of absolute comfort and satisfaction would have been more than enough to lull him into a deep sleep. Tonight was different.

"About what?" Brian muttered sleepily into the crook of his neck.

"Amber's prom."

Wide awake now, Brian propped himself up on his elbow and stared at Justin incredulously. "You've got to be kidding; you're actually considering going?"

Justin shrugged, "Well, why not? It may be good for me." Brian snorted and rolled over, turning his back on Justin. "What? It might, y'know, kill off my inner demons or something."

Brian shrugged, "Whatever, Sunshine."

"Brian," Justin sighed heavily, sitting up and shaking Brian's bare shoulder. "Brian, stop being an asshole and talk to me about this." The only response he received was a 'fuck off', muffled by the duvet that Brian had pulled haughtily over his head.

"Well, fine," Justin huffed, glaring at the dark blue, Brian-shaped lump. "Let's see if I ever try to discuss anything with you ever again." He continued when Brian didn't reply, "you always do this, you know. You say we're partners, but you always push me away like this. It was the same thing when you had cancer and the same thing when I went to LA… Jesus Christ, Brian! Can't we just have a fucking discussion about what's going on in our lives without you throwing some big drama queen shit fit?"

A cool breeze swept over his naked body as Brian yanked the blanket off of him. "I'm sleeping on the couch," he said, taking the blanket with him.

Despite the fact that Justin was cold now without the warmth that the blanket provided on the chilly early spring night, he had satisfying feeling of pride, knowing that he'd touched a nerve with Brian.

He pulled the Egyptian cotton sheets tighter around him and fell asleep easily, even though nothing had been solved.

"Oh my god, Justin, I'm so sorry," Daphne said, the second he picked up his phone.

"For what?"

"My parents and I didn't think Amber was old enough back then to know why you were in the hospital. I had no idea she was going to ask you to prom, otherwise I would have stopped her."

"Oh, that. Yeah, it's okay, Daphne. Don't worry about it."

"Well, I told her. She says that her offer still stands if you want to accept, but she understands if you don't want to go, no hurt feelings or anything."

He smiled, even though she couldn't see him, "Thanks, Daph."

"Hey, it's no problem. I mean, what else would I have told her, right?"

"Yeah." He paused. "I was actually thinking of, um, maybe saying yes." He heard a sharp intake of breath and then the other end went silent. "Daph?" he asked eventually, wondering if they'd lost connection.

"Are you serious?" she asked finally. "I mean, Justin, I don't know if you remember this, but you got hit in the head with a fucking baseball bat the last time you went to one of St. James' proms."

"Thank you for the reminder, what would I do without you?" He was rewarded with a huff from his best friend. "Will you at least listen to my reasoning?" No answer. "Daph?"

"I'm nodding, go ahead."

He shrugged, "I'll never be able to let it go unless I face it," he said simply.

"…Oh."

"Oh?"

"Hang on, I'm processing this."

"Well?" he asked finally, "you done processing yet?"

"Don't rush me, Taylor!" she said with a giggle. Her voice became serious, "Justin, you really think it wouldn't be counter productive for you to take my sister to the prom?"

"I really think it would help me to face it, once and for all."

A sigh, "I love you, Justin."

"I love you, too."

It was dark, nearly midnight, when Justin returned to the loft. Considering their fight, he had no idea what to expect from Brian; he'd avoided going home for much of the afternoon, rather opting to join some of his old friends from college for dinner at a low key restaurant in Squirrel Hill. It was a far cry from the Avenue he normally frequented.

The loft was dark and quiet, the sharp clang of the heavy, metal door seemed out of place in the stark silence. "Brian?" he called out tentatively, into the dark space. "You home?"

The distinct sound of weight shifting on imported Italian leather couch cushions gave away Brian's whereabouts; Justin could see him clearly as his eyes adjusted to the blackness. Brian was stretched out on the couch clad in only a pair of sweatpants nursing a half empty bottle of Absolut.

Justin cleared his throat. "Hey, Brian," he said softly, but his voice still seemed to reverberate through the open space. Brian didn't even acknowledge him, only took a long swig from the bottle in his hand, wiping the condensation off of his upper lip with the back of his hand in a very un-Brian-like way.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable and fidgety, Justin hung up his jacket instead of dropping it on the floor like he usually did, just to have something to occupy himself with. "Are you hungry?" he asked the thus far unresponsive lump on the couch, "Want me to make you something?"

Brian said nothing, and Justin wasn't surprised. Brian could pout and mope nearly as well as Gus could, and that was saying a lot considering the latter was barely six years old.

"Come here." The voice was soft and Justin wasn't sure if he had heard correctly until Brian put the bottle down and spread his legs in a clear invitation for Justin to sit between them.

Brian's arms were around him the second his body touched the leather, holding Justin tightly against his strong, lean chest as though he were afraid to let go, lest the blond disappear.

Despite the tension that still hung in the air from their argument the night before, Justin was deliciously content at the moment. The bottle sat forgotten on the coffee table and Brian's heart beat steadily directly beneath his head, lulling him into a blissfully drowsy stupor. Brian's chest rising and falling, rising and falling as the staccato pulses drowned out the rest of his world.

"I can't see you like that again." Brian's arms tightened slightly around Justin's abdomen as he spoke; his voice hoarse and almost unrecognizable in the heavy silence that covered the loft. "You were just… lying there… in your own…" he cleared his throat and Justin could feel him shaking his head above him. "So much blood."

"Brian…"

"I can't go through that again, Justin." He eased them both up into a sitting position, facing each other. "I can't see you like that again."

Justin sighed, "That was years ago, Brian. This is completely different, a girl is taking me, and we won't be going near any parking garages. I really need to do this, I need to face-"

"Fuck you, Sunshine. You have no idea-"

"What are you talking about, I have no idea? I was there, in case you forgot!"

Brian grabbed the Absolut and took a big swallow before turning to glare at Justin. "No, you weren't," he said slowly and deliberately. "You were there physically, and yes, you had to deal with a whole lot of shit afterwards, but you weren't there then." He heaved a huge sigh before continuing. "You didn't have to see what I saw, Justin. You didn't have to see all that blood splattered all over the concrete and know that it's your fucking fault that this stupid kid is bleeding all over your fucking tux. You didn't have to hold your date's head in your lap to try to slow the fucking… geyser that was shooting out while trying to call for help and not pass out at the same time. You didn't have to watch someone you lo- actually gave a shit about dying right in front of you, while you were completely fucking helpless. You have no fucking idea, Justin."

Justin didn't know what to say to that, so he took the shuddering Brian in his arms and they stayed like that while time ceased to exist around them.

Amber Chanders looked beautiful in her beaded white prom dress, with her dark curls twisted into an elaborate style on the back of her head. Justin grinned his thousand watt smile and held out his elbow for her for her to take. They walked to the limo that way, looking like the perfect picture of heterosexual elegance.

The family watched them go excitedly; already awaiting the pictures they'd made Justin and Amber pose for. They chatted elatedly, while Jennifer and Emmett wiped tears from their eyes.

Brian didn't understand how they could be happy about this, given what had happened the last time they'd sent Justin off to prom. All Brian had been able to see when Justin traipsed merrily off merely minutes before were fine blond strands, bathed in forever flowing red.

Without a word to anyone, he left, slamming the door behind him. He lit a cigarette, cradling it in his hand to protect it from the light wind as he walked to the Corvette. He knew that the family he'd just left behind would be, right now, rolling their eyes about what an asshole he was, how he'd never change, how he couldn't be happy for their precious Sunshine going off to prom at the age of twenty-three.

They had no idea. They didn't know then and they sure as hell didn't know now; now, as he sat in the spacious loft that he could no longer pretend belonged to only him, drowning his brain in alcohol and awaiting the inevitable.