Disclaimer: I own none of the people in this fic, but watch out for me making a cameo in the background eventually! I think I own myself, right? Oh, wait. No. The government do...dammit.

Psychiatrists Notes - Bree Van De Kamp

There has been an interesting development in Bree's case since I last saw her. I had begun to notice, during our weekly sessions, that she had begun to change. I haven't discerned exactly what it is, but I believe that her facade has begun to crack. Something has been putting her under unbelieveable stress, and it would appear that her sanctuary/prison cannot hold up to it. I use the slash because as of this moment I'm still unsure of what happens in Bree's mind. We were discussing her children last time, and whle we were talking I suddenly noticed her expression change drastically from a smile into an almost terrible look of despair. It was gone so quickly, replaced again with the smile, that I momentarily believed perhaps I had invented it, or seen something I had not comprehended properly. But now I am sure. Bree's personality came through very quickly for just a second, breaking through the persona she has trapped herself in. This is what leads me to believe that there are cracks appearing in her shelter, brought on by her desire to escape, or by a third party who I know little about as of yet.

I will continue the study of this next time.

"...and that's what she said to you?" John leant back, a small smile playing around his face and a frown creasing his forehead slightly. "She asked you to help her...to-"

"Regain her sanity for her, yes." Justin sighed with exasperation. "I can't believe you don't believe me on this!"

John shook his head. "It's not that I don't believe you. It's just that I've never really heard of something like this happening. Sounds like a Jerry Springer title. 'My boyfriends gay-hating mother wants me to find her marbles'. That'd be one hell of an episode!"

Justin opened his mouth to argue, then realised that was exactly what it was. He folded his arms and pouted. "It's not my fault that she wants me to help her. I guess she didn't have her daughters boyfriend to choose, so I was the one to get it."

John narrowed his eyes at Justin. "Justin, don't go there. Let's keep away from the subject of me and Danielle, alright?" He stood up, and then looked down at Justin. "And don't pout. Makes you look gay." He laughed, then jumped out of the way of Justins swipe. Going to the door, he grabbed his coat and said "I'm going to Mrs Scolese's. Back later, okay?"

Justin turned and, peering over the back of the armchair, growled at him. "Just don't get me beaten up by her husband again, alright? This face too pretty to be broken!"

John laughed again, and shut the door. Justin listened for the sound of his footsteps clunking heavily down the corridor past the wall. When he couldn't hear them any more, he sank back into the chair, drawing his feet up into him. He was wearing only a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, having just got out of the shower. He could still feel a couple of cold drips running down the back of his shirt to make him shiver, but he ignored them.

He'd always liked John. John had been the first boy who'd made him think 'Hold on. I'd rather have a piece of that than a cheerleader'. He'd even tried to kiss him one night, when they were both a little drunk from a party, but he'd chickened out at the last moment. If there was one thing that John wasn't, it was gay. His devotion to his mistress was enough to prove that, and Justin could only watch him from a distance. So maybe it was a bit...wierd, but John didn't know, and no one else did. Besides, they were friends first, and Justin valued that more than Johns hot, hot torso...alright, as much as, then.

As to telling him about Mrs Van De Kamp, well, he'd had to tell someone just to ease his own worry. It was so odd for this to have happened that Justin almost didn't believe it himself. If John had said 'This is ridiculous, forget it', then Justin would have put it to the back of his mind, safe in the reassurance from the other boy that he'd imagined it, dreamt it, misinterpreted it. It was one of those situations.

His face hardened as he considered what he would have to do now. Not something he'd really studied before, helping middle aged women break out of their minds. That was one of the reasons he'd talked to John, one of the many reasons. He understood middle aged women better. Hell, he'd been seduced by one...although from the little Justin had seen of Gabrielle, she was a long way from middle aged still. Like she said, 'you weren't middle aged until your children were the same age as the man you were sleeping with'.

Suddenly he saw the answer. Mrs Scolese. She was Bree's friend, she knew her much better than he did. Perhaps that was how he was supposed to help. To get the message she'd given him to as many of her friends as possible, then stand back as they got her through this. Yes, that was it. He'd go and tell Mrs Scolese. She'd know what to do. She'd helped so much before, and now that he and her were on good terms, it would be perfect. She also already knew vaguely how he would have found this out, and that was something he didn't especially want to explain to any of the other wives.

He stood up, almost painfully aware of the voice in the back of his head telling him that all he was doing was passing the buck. Trying to ignore it, he wandered into his bedroom, and tried to pick out a pair of matching socks from the pile of clean laundry...or was this the dirty pile? Or the too small pile? He considered the room, before shrugging and going to steal a pair from Johns almost immaculate room. He'd give them back...probably.

John and Gabrielle looked at him with matching icy glares as he sat on the couch. Since John had taken his truck, and Justin didn't have a car, he'd had to walk to Wisteria Drive, meaning John had been there for a good fifteen minutes before he'd arrived. They'd clearly wasted no time. As he cast a glance over Mrs Scolese's tiny silk dressing gown, and John in unbuttoned jeans and a t-shirt on inside out, shoes probably left upstairs, Justin wondered again why he hadn't left it until John had come back, or at least given them a decent hour or so to 'trim the hedges'. From their expressions, it was clear they were thinking that too.

Gabrielle pulled her feet up under her, then realised the dressing gown rode up quite a bit each time she did that. Considering at full length it only just reached her knees, that was probably giving one hell of a view to the two boys. She discreetly put them down again, earning a pout from John and a relieved sigh from a clearly uncomfortable Justin. "So, Justin, what brings you out here? Now. Today. Why?" John backed her up with a glare, and Justin shifted again.

"Well, I need some help, Mrs Scolese."

"I see." Was this the same kind of 'help' he'd wanted a while back, she wondered? She leant forward, before realising this, also, was not a good postion for the dressing gown. Why had she bought it again? It certainly wasn't designed for hiding the body of the wearer to any great degree. She huffed and bundled the fabric tighter around her neck, hiding the sudden valley of cleavage that had appeared a moment before. She smiled, and composed herself. "Justin..."

He smiled and visibly relaxed at the tone of her voice. She smiled wider, showing small perfect teeth. "...If you want me to have sex with you, then I swear no matter what, I will kill you with my bare nails."

Justin gulped, and the smile dropped off his face. "N-no, Mrs Scolese-"

"Please, call me Gabrielle. 'Mrs Scolese' makes me feel old. And married."

She smiled at him, still with the slightly malevolent glint in her eyes. Justin stammered "No problem, Mrs S-sco...sorry, G-Gabrielle. It's something different. S-something you might want t-to know about..."

She sighed, and turned to John. "This will take all day. Could you go get him a glass of water? And stop glaring at him like that! You'll make the poor boy feel he's unwelcome!"

"He is."

"Beside the point. He's come here to tell me something, and you're not helping. Look..." She leant across and whispered something in his ear. He grinned widely.

"Really?"

She smiled, and nodded. "Now, go get him water, then go upstairs, okay? I'll get rid of him soon."

He stood up, and went to get the water. Gabrielle and Justin sat in silence until he came back, then Gabrielle gave John a kiss, and sent him off. The two watched him go up the stairs, then Gabrielle sighed, and leant forward. "Better?"

Justin nodded, not really trusting his tongue to be able to say something as complex as 'Yes'. Truth be told, he was more scared of the woman than he was of John. Sure, John was bigger and stronger than Justin, and could easily kick his ass, but Gabrielle had this air that made you think that she would be able to hurt you so much. She probably could too. When she'd been working out on her porch, Justin had seen the wiry muscles usually hidden under that flawless skin. He swore some had been bigger than his, for goodness sake.

She smiled. "Good. Now, please. Tell me what was so important that it couldn't wait...an hour, maybe?"

"Well, I was over at Mrs Van De Kamps house...with my friend, Andrew-"

"Ah, so HE'S the one! That makes sense." Mrs Scolese sat back, contently.

"Yeah, but, that doesn't matter right now. You're Mrs Van De Kamps friend, aren't you? Have you noticed anything different about her recently? Like...wierd?"

She thought for a moment. "Her anal retentiveness? But that's not new...her cleaning at wierd hours? Well, now she's got no one to do her S&M with, she needs to find something else to do...The fact that her son is being screwed by a boy who is even now sitting in my house making me play stupid guessing games while I could be upstairs indulging in some extra-maritial activity? No, that doesn't happen too often. Thankfully."

She sat back. "Apart from that, no. I've not noticed anything, really."

Justin sat for a moment, slightly confused, his brain racing to keep up with Gabrielle. The woman was clever. Hell, she'd hidden John from her husband for almost three months, and now he was in prison. You didn't get more cunning than that. Then, as he comprehended what she'd been saying, he frowned. "Nothing out of the ordinary? At all?"

She looked sidewards at him, her eyes narrowed in a silent question. Then she leant forward. "Well...there have been little things. Just certain phrases. Like, I said something to her, something about Rex. I was trying to be nice! Then..." She sighed, and sat back. "She just...clammed up. She just gave me a look, and suddenly she went all silent on me. Like what I did to my husband when I didn't get my diamonds. But this was different, in a way. The look she gave me wasn't an angry look, or a sad look. It was sort of desperate. And then she went silent, and now she won't talk about it. She goes on about flower arranging and cooking and stuff. Stuff she used to talk about, but less. She was so much more alive. I don't know where she's gone."

Gabrielle's eyes were glittering as she looked without seeing at the wall. Her mascara was in danger of being irretrievably ruined, before she suddenly sniffed, and blinked the tears back. She looked at Justin properly. "Something has changed with her. What do you know about it, Justin?"

Justin leant forward and recounted the events of the morning as he had with John, with a little less use of the phrase 'old bag of crazy-crazy', and referring to Mrs Van De Kamp by her name, rather than 'the Nazi-hag'. Partly because he felt guilty about having called her that at all, and partly out of respect for Gabrielle. She listened avidly to the tale, not saying anything apart from 'Yes' and 'I see'. Finally, Justin sat back, and waited for Mrs Scolese to say something.

She considered, her manicured nails resting lightly on her cheek. Justin admired the simply fabulous varnish she had on. Then he mentally sucker-punched himself. There were times when even he knew he was being too gay. Even if they were only mental times.

Suddenly Mrs Scolese looked at him, her eyes boring into his, and a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. "I think I know what we have to do, Justin. It's clear that Bree is in need of someone to help her, and you telling me about this was a good idea, rather than you just forgetting it."

He sighed contentedly, and sat back. "So, I'll go now, and you and John can get back to...whatever you promised him. Then you can tell all the other wives, and you'll take care of her." He stood, and streched.

Then Gabrielle laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Justin. This is your problem."

Justin paused, still half bent over backwards. Then he slowly turned his head to stare fully at Gabrielle. Shock was coursing through him, coupled with one thought yelling that it was all a cruel joke, and that she was just kidding, while another thought hopped up and down on top of that one, saying she was serious and he shouldn't have tried to weasel out of it in the first place. He decided to ignore the latter. "You're...joking, right? Of course you are. Very funny, Mrs Scolese."

She glared at him. "What have I said about the Mrs Scolese thing? For goodness sake, I broke John of it, you should be easier. No, I'm not joking. Now, straighten up." She smiled, mischeviously. "And yes, I do realise the irony there."

Now it was Justin's turn to glower at her, but she stopped that with a sigh, and a glint of her eyes. "I'm not joking, Justin. Like I've said, all of the wives have noticed something might be wrong with Bree. Did you think we hadn't tried to help her before now, when this started? She can't let us in. We all thought that she couldn't let anyone in...and now you've come along." She leant forward. "I think she can't let us in for exactly the reason that we're her friends. But you...Bree's a very 'careful' lady. I don't think she can reveal personal weakness unless she has a very powerful bargaining piece. And the fact that you're screwing her son without wanting anyone to find out...I'd say that was a pretty special piece to have."

"So you're saying that Mrs Van De Kamp is blackmailing me into helping her?" Justin sank back, an disbelieving look on his face. "Bitch."

Gabrielle momentarily narrowed her eyes, then shrugged. "Well, maybe. But still. It's what I'd do." She glanced at him, as he gave her her own incredulous look. "We wives have our pride. More than the dollars in our credit card accounts, it is our currency. Don't be so surprised."

Justin sat, and shook his head, as though trying to purge his head of all the terrible things that had happened during the day. And it was only ten in the morning! He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "So, I have to help my boyfriends Nazi-mom - No offence - and you won't help me."

Gabrielle frowned, although not enough to crease her brow too much. "Well, I will help you with what I can...but yes. I can't take an active role in this. None of us can."

Justin sighed, then realised something about what Gabrielle had just said. "What do you mean, 'none of us can'?"

Her eyes cast downwards, the only sign he'd seen that she could be cowed all day. "I...I think it would be a good idea if the other wives knew about this. About you."

Justin mock-pondered for a second. "Hmm, interesting point. Ask me again when Mr Scolese is out of jail, and we'll talk, okay?"

She glared at him, all trace of the embarrasment about her suggestion gone. "I mean it Justin! We can help you. Three heads are better than one, and if you don't let me tell them, you'll only have one head to get advice from. With two more people in on this, we could pool our knowhow, everything all of us know about Bree to help you get her out! But we'd need to know the whole of it. Your 'relation' to Andrew, how you got in on this..."

Justin shook his head. "I don't want you to tell them."

She sighed, exasperated. "I need to, Justin. We need to!"

He leapt up, angry. "No, Mrs Scolese!" He didn't care that he hadn't called her Gabrielle, and at this time neither did she. "I don't want you to tell them! I don't want you to tell anyone! Why would you need to? You can help me! I don't need anyone else! You're all that I need!"

She smiled, slightly sadly. "That would be so romantic if it were just in another context."

He sat down again, shuddering from the slight adreneline rush going through him. "I can't deal with it...not now. It wasn't so long ago that I was trying to have sex with you!" He sighed, as she raised an eyebrow. "Alright, so it was only just to prove to myself, and you indirectly, whether I was gay or not. But still! I'm just not ready to come out yet, you know? I can't deal with it. It's difficult enough knowing it myself. I don't want anyone else..."

Tears began to swell at the bottom of his eyes, and Gabrielle felt her heart squeeze with the sight. She gently moved from her chair to sit next to him on the expansive couch, careful not to let the gown ride up again. The state Justin was in, it could push him over the edge into full blown break down. Almost as if she wasn't really aware of what she was doing, Gabrielle laid a hand on his shoulder, then slowly began to massage it. "Shh, shh. Justin, listen to me. Is it really that bad that two more people know? Unless you're going to live the rest of your life like Liberachi, you'll have to start telling people. Is this not a good place to start? With people who know so little about you?"

He looked up, the tears still threatening to spill over, and nodded. One dislodged from his eye, and ran down his cheek, giving him a sweet innocent look. Gabrielle took a tissue from the box and dabbed at it, then wiped his eyes. "There we are. Don't cry. You'll ruin your mascara."

He chuckled through the sadness, and she smiled back. "Good boy. Now, come on. You come back here this evening, around five, and we'll work everything out, okay? I promise it will all be alright."

He nodded, and they stood, her hand resting on his back and projecting warmth to him. Guiding him to the front door, she gave him a smile, and opened it. He stepped out, then turned. "Thank you, Gabrielle. Thanks for everything." He started to walk away, then stopped again, and turned back. "Just out of interest..."

She looked questioningly at him, and he blushed slightly. "Erm...what was it you promised John when you sent him away?"

She opened her mouth, about to protest against the question, before she suddenly softened, and sighed. "I promised him that we didn't have to have sex. That we could just talk."

He stood, gobsmacked, before shaking his head. "I honestly don't know what goes through that boy's head. See ya later, Mrs Scolese." He turned, and still shaking his head walked down the path to the gate. Gabrielle watched him go, then smiled to herself, and shut the door.

Behind her, John grinned. "Is he gone? Can we go and talk now?" He was standing on the stairs, the T shirt having been lost already, the jeans still unbuttoned, gazing down at Gabrielle.

Gabrielle nodded at him, still smiling, remembering the sweet look on Justins face. He was such a handsome boy, it was only natural...then she stopped. Those weren't the sensations of lust. She mentally ran through the encounter. The wiping of his eyes, the reassuring of the boy, those weren't things you did to someone you wanted to get hot and steamy and horizontal (or vertical, or diagonal, or whatever) with! In fact, those were all sort of maternal...instincts...oh god.

John noticed her sudden freezing and the smile dropping off her face. He came down the rest of the stairs quickly, putting his arms around her and turning her to face him. "What is it? Was it something I said?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "No, don't worry, honey. I just thought of something."

He raised an eyebrow. "'Honey'? You're calling me 'honey', now? Sheesh, next you'll be wanting to get married and have kids! Although...if you want to, I'm happy with it...you know how I feel about that."

Gabrielle looked up into John's face. After she'd had the abortion, after Carlos had tricked her into pregnancy, it had only strengthened her resolve not to have a baby. But John would be a perfect father. He was kind, he was loving. Any of their babies would be absolutely gorgeous. She'd be able to support them purely on what Carlos had saved in the bank. So what if he was very young? They were in love. That should be all. And she could feel that she wanted one. Hell, she'd been on the verge of adopting Justin just then! But...

She smiled, masking the indecision. "No, you know how I feel about it too. It was just a phrase. Come on. Let's go upstairs."

John shrugged, and jogged up the stairs. Gabrielle momentarily paused, looking between the door and upstairs, between the two boys. Then she shook her head. "I'm too gorgeous for children." And with that, she followed John up.