Fix me now
I wish you would
Bring me back to life
Kiss me blind somebody should
From hollow into light
Fix Me Now – Garbage

J.T

"Hey, Taylor."

Shit. Shit. SHIT. I ignore the harsh voice of Chris Hobbs and continue walking away from the library; I speed my steps up in hopes that he'll leave me alone today. I press a button on my new watch and it tells me what time it is. "Six-thirty." Shit. That means it's going to get dark soon and Chris bullying me isn't what I need right now. Swallowing, I can still hear his heavy footsteps behind me; I dig into my pocket and search for my cell phone to call my mom so she can pick me up. I long ago learned which keys were which. Suddenly the cell phone is knocked out of my hand and I hear it clatter down on the cement sidewalk and then, Chris' hand is curling around the collar of my jacket and slamming me against a hard surface. A wall.

"Ignoring me now, blind boy?"

"N-n-no."

"That's what it looked like to me."

I swallow. I've always been intimidated by Chris. What blind person wouldn't? What really short blind person wouldn't? I try to get away from him, loosen his hold on my jacket but he only holds tighter. His other hand wraps around my throat and holds me still against the wall. His fingers tighten as if in warning. If I move he'll probably squeeze harder, which will then lead to me panicking even more and getting killed or seriously injured. So, I stay still. That's the safest thing to do that the moment anyway. His fingers loosen just slightly and I feel his disgusting breath wash over my face and hear him chuckle. Sick asshole. He's probably getting off on this right now…hurting me.

"Well, aren't you going to answer me?"

"U-um…"

Chris laughs again and I wonder if someone will walk anywhere near us and see what's happening and save me. I highly doubt it. The library closes in five minutes so no one would have a reason to come up here. Unless they wanted to torture and scare the hell out of blind people. Chris mocks me and my stuttering, my speechlessness. I'm so fucking scared right now it's not even funny. Sure, I should be used to Chris' bullying tendencies but it still frightens me every time. I don't reply to him making fun of me though I probably should. His fingers squeeze and I think he enjoys watching me struggle for breath. No, I know he enjoys watching as I gasp for breath as he continues to tighten his fingers. Then they loosen and I gulp in cold air. It hurts my lungs but I welcome the pain because I need to breathe.

"Haven't seen you around lately, Taylor."

"B-been busy."

"I'll bet. With your fag friends?"

I don't answer at first. I don't know what to say except, "L-let me go." He laughs again, his bad breath intoxicating me again. I almost gag but I don't because I don't want him to see. "You're so fucking pathetic, Taylor. Don't worry…I'll let you go…as soon as I'm done with you." Suddenly I'm being yanked off the wall, a punch, two, three punches are landed on my face and I hear my nose make a sickening crack and I let out a yell. I hope, pray, that someone will hear me but I know they won't. Then I'm being spun around and a hand is in my hair and slamming my face against the brick wall. Then I'm being held against is and, somehow, my pants had ended up down around my ankles. The throbbing of my face becomes unnoticeable when I realize this. Realize what's happening or what I think is happening.

And I would've yelled again if my throat wasn't blocked up with tears.

"Don't make a sound, asshole."

As if. I clench my fingers into the wall and try to push away and maybe ram into him but it doesn't work. His grip is too strong on me. Then his finger is up my ass and I freak out. And it's a good thing I freak out too because my foot comes up at its own accord and I think I get him right in the crotch. He lets out a surprised and pained scream and I feel him release me. I pull up my pants and run. Now, it isn't the safest thing to do, running while blind. And the tears in my eyes are keeping me from seeing any outlines of people or objects that I can trip on. I don't care though. All I care about is getting away from Chris Hobbs. I run into things multiple times. A building, a post, and a trash can but this doesn't stop me.

I don't stop running until I know I'm in Liberty Avenue.

Multiple people ask me if I'm alright. I can imagine the looks on their faces. Surprise, concerned, shocked at how my face got so bloody. Bloody and mixed with tears. I ignore them and try to make it to the diner without hurting myself anymore but I'm in a state of panic and I fall flat on my face three times before making it to the door, pushing it open and stumbling into the diner. I hear the loud clinking of glasses and plates, I smell the strong scent of tons of different foods mixed together, and hear the loud voices of the customers. I think they silence though, just a tad, when I make an appearance. Suddenly there's someone standing in front of me. A tall figure and I know it's Brian because I can smell him.

"Fuck, Sunshine, what the hell happened."

And, despite the fact that I'm mad at him I let him pull me into an embrace as I start to cry even harder.

It's only an hour later that I finally realize that I let Brian lead me out of the diner, into, I assume, his vehicle, and to the hospital. I hadn't been thinking when I let him lead me out. I had been too busy enjoying the warmth of his arms around me, strong and gentle, and the feel of his fingers stroking away tears as they fell and the way his voice just…washed over me and told me that it was ok even though I wasn't sure that it would be and even though he didn't know what had happened. Now I'm in a place that I've always hated sitting on an uncomfortable hospital bed waiting for the doctor. Brian's standing next to me. I avoid looking at him but I can feel his piercing gaze on me and I wipe away the tear stains that I can feel on my face.

"Are you ok?"

That's the fourth time he's asked me since we left the diner and I hadn't been able to answer before. I shake my head, staring straight ahead. "No." I hear him shift on his feet, feel him inch a little closer, and I can practically hear him trying to think of something to say. "What happened?" I shake my head again and cross my arms securely over my chest trying not to think about what almost happened today. I almost got fucking raped. I almost got fucking raped by someone I assumed was straight. I almost got raped. I chock up again. "I hate the hospital." I let out a deep breath and then draw another on in again. Brian steps closer still until he's standing directly in front of me, his hips connecting with my knees. I wish he would sit down like I am. "Justin…"

"I don't want to fucking talk about it."

I mentally curse as my voice comes out high pitched and choked up. I feel a hand envelope around mine and I almost pull it away but my brain won't allow that. His hand's comfortable, warm and nice. He squeezes gently since he probably takes me not pulling away as a good thing and I'm sure he was about to say something, maybe even sorry for everything that has happened lately but I hear the door open and he quickly steps away and I know it's the doctor. "Mr. Taylor and Mr.…" I hear some papers rustle around as the doctor is precise and to the point but he sounds nice. "Brian Kinney…"

"So, what happened here?"

The doctor steps closer to me and I answer before Brian can.

"I accidentally ran into a wall."

I bet he doesn't believe me. I don't even sound convincing. The doctor doesn't question me. I forget what his name is but I don't bother asking. I don't really care anyway. He declares that my nose is, indeed, broken. No fucking way. So, he tapes up my nose or whatever-the-fuck they do for broken noses and tells me to redress it everyday and that in a few weeks time it should be all healed. He hands Brian the pain medication and tells me to only take it when I absolutely need it. I don't answer, I just nod. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. I sign a few papers and Brian leads me out of the hospital, hand gentle on the small of my back.

When we're outside he stops so I stop.

"Justin…what happened? Really?"

"Chris Hobbs happened."

He doesn't say anything at first and I think he lets the subject drop. Until we're both back in his car. He helps me buckle my seatbelt and even starts the car before talking again and I wish he wouldn't. I don't want to talk about it but I know I will tell him if he asks me. If he asks me in that concerned and sincere fucking voice of his. "What'd he do?" Not only does he sound concerned and sincere…he also sounds fucking pissed. I don't say anything. I keep my mouth clamped shut. I know I'll eventually talk though. "C'mon, Sunshine…" I shift in my seat and slide down a little bit and curl my legs upwards so I can wrap my arms around them.

"Where are you taking me?"

"My place."

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

I sigh. I don't say another word though and neither does he. Than, a little while later, the car stops and he cuts the engine. "We're here." I don't know where "here" is but I get out of the car and he grabs my wrist and leads me into a warm building and than into a rickety sounded elevator. "Is this elevator safe?" Brian quickly answers with an "Of course" and I hesitantly let him lead me the rest of the way inside the square box. I lean stiffly against the wall as it takes us upwards. I jump slightly as it makes a loud noise, metal screeching against metal, and than stops. I listen as Brian lifts up the metal gate and he's leading me off the contraption and the next thing I hear is a metal door sliding open and he's leading me somewhere else.

"This is my loft…"

The door slams shut. "Oh." I listen as he walks away from me and then, "Want something to drink?" I cross my arms tightly over my chest and shake my head. "No, thank you." I hear him walk back towards me after pouring something in a glass and then his hand his wrapped loosely around my wrist and he's slowly and carefully leading me towards somewhere…and then he's seating me on a comfortable couch. It sinks lower as he sits next to me. Neither of us say anything at first and I shift in the seat, toe off my sneakers and curl my legs up underneath me. I have a feeling that I'll be here for a while since he's so adamant about talking to me so I might as well be comfortable.

"Chris Hobbs…what'd he do to you?"

"Do you really care?"

I think we both know that I'm stalling. He hesitates answering…I can feel it.

"…Yes."

I almost ask him if he cares about me just to see if he really does. To see if maybe, for once, Debbie's wrong about him but I don't. Instead, "I was at the library…I like the library 'cause it's quiet and I can just be…alone." He doesn't interrupt. He doesn't say anything. He only sits next to me, his gaze boring holes into me. I swallow and look over in his direction. "And it was closing soon…I'd been there for hours…and some woman told me it was time to leave so I left and I was walking a down the sidewalk…ready to call my mom 'cause she told me to call her when she needed to come pick me up. I should have called her before I even left the library but…I wasn't thinking and…he came up behind me, talked to me…" I stop. Why the hell am I even telling him this? Because he's fucking convincing when he's concerned and angry for me. When he actually seems like he cares about me and because my brain is telling me, yelling at me, to tell him. "And slammed me against a wall. He choked me first…made fun of me. Then…"

I bite my lip.

This is stupid. My brain is stupid. I can't tell him.

"What?"

Then he sounds so fucking concerned and so fucking caring that I have to tell him. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes when I feel myself start to cry. A hand grabs my shoulder and hesitantly brings me closer to the form that is Brian and in a matter of seconds I'm curled up in his lap, face buried in between the space that joins his neck and shoulder together. He doesn't seem to care that I'm getting him wet and that I'm getting his clothes wet too. "What'd he do, Sunshine?" Funny, I don't feel much like sunshine today. "He tried to…tried…tried to fuck me."

"You mean…rape you."

I'm sure if I hadn't been on his lap right now he would've stormed out of his loft, hunted down Chris, and beaten him to a bloody pulp. Or maybe even kill him. He sounds angry enough to kill anyway. I not against him, eyes squeezed shut and I'm ashamed at how bad I'm shaking. He doesn't seem to care though, he only wraps his arms tighter around my form in a protective manner and…I do feel protected. He even kisses my forehead, a hand running gently through my hair and his other hand making circles on my back trying to soothe me and then he's rocking me…just slightly until I fall asleep in his arms feeling considerably better than I had a little while ago…despite the fact that my nose hurts like fucking hell.

I don't know how long I slept. When I wake up I'm greeted with the sound of Brian's voice. He's talking to someone and I'm pretty sure he's on the phone.

"He's sleeping."

Pause.

"No, I didn't fuck him. Fuck you."

Another pause.

"No, I didn't force him here against his will either. Fuck you, Deb, fuck you. I didn't call you to get an earful of your bullshit. I called you to tell you that he was ok since I know his mother is probably looking for him. Now, I'm going to tell you to go fuck yourself one more time and then hang up on you. So, go fuck yourself."

There was a beep and I hear the phone being set down. I smile slightly. The phone exchange between Brian and Debbie had been slightly, if not a lot, amusing. I keep my eyes closed though; I stay curled up in ball on the sofa. I realize that sometime while I've been asleep that he had draped a blanket on me making me feel toasty and warm. I try to curl myself up tighter, maybe even fall asleep again but it doesn't work out. I'm too busy concentrating on Brian moving around the loft. I hear the fridge open and then shut. I hear ice being placed into a glass and then liquid being poured. Then he's walking over here. I make sure to still look asleep because if I let him know I'm awake I'm not sure what I'd say to him.

He sinks down on the couch, his hands gently placing my head on his lap and his hands finger my hair and, sometimes, dance over the face. He's careful to not touch my damaged nose. His index finger even trails across my lips at one point and it takes everything part of me and my self-control to not kiss his finger. Instead, I just sigh, content, and try to make myself fall asleep but that's still not working out for me. My body refuses to let me fall asleep. I hesitantly let my eyes flutter open, rolling over so I'm on my back and staring directly up at him. I really wish I could see him so I could see his facial expression. But I can only wish and the wish never comes true. His hand moves over my forehead and through my hair again and his hand eventually stops, fingers twining with my hair.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours."

"What time is it?"

The idea to check my own watch doesn't even register. Maybe I just want to hear his voice instead of the electronic voice of my watch. His soothing voice…I'll take it over my watch any day. "Ten." God, I have been asleep for a long time. More than just a few hours. I don't make a move to get up because I'm really comfortable lying here with my head on his lap. His fingers resume their stroking and I let my eyes fall shut again and I pull the blanket closer around me. "I brought you some of your pain meds…incase you needed them." I open my eyes again and smile up at him. I can't help but feel slightly…happy at the fact that he was thinking about me in pain and wanted to do something about it.

"That'd be nice…thanks."

He helps me sit up and my nose is suddenly throbbing. My whole face is throbbing. I wonder how bruised my face is. It's probably so fucked up looking. I frown and gently run my fingers over my skin. "How bad is the damage?" Brian doesn't answer at first and I bet he's wondering whether he should tell the truth or lie. It must be pretty bad. "You look like shit." I crack a grin but it hurts to smile so I quickly get rid of it. "Great. I guess I won't be getting any tips at the diner anytime soon then." I hear him chuckle and he takes my hand and places to pills in my palm and then a glass in my other hand. "I'll still tip you."

"Yeah, because you pity me."

He doesn't answer, at least not yet and I swallow down the pills with the icy cold water he had handed me. It's only when he takes the glass from me and sets it back on a coffee table in front of us that he answers.

"No, 'cause you're still gorgeous to me."