Chapter Two

***Justin POV

I leave the blackness and return to the light, just barely. I can feel the dark pulling me back, calling to me, begging me to return to its ignorant and painless safety. The blows have stopped, and my attackers have fled, leaving me here alone. Nothing but pain registers; every part on my body feels as if it has been beaten or trampled in some way. I try to open my eyes but fail, not having the energy to do even that.

In my state of semi-consciousness thoughts drift in and out freely, beyond my control. Where is Brian? Did he notice that I'm missing? Does he care? Don't be stupid. Of course he cares. Doesn't he? My heart gives a lurch, but nothing compared to the pain of the rest of my body. I wonder if I am going to die.

I take in a short, shallow, breath, which catches in my throat as I gasp at the pain. Even breathing is hard. When I was bashed by Chris Hobbes, I was immediately out. I didn't remember a thing until much later. It's a thousand times worse to be awake, to feel everything at once. To lie here, unable to move, helpless. Nothing has ever made me feel more powerless and more alone.

My pain mingles with hatred as anger rushes through my brain. Who the fuck do those guys think they are? God? They have no right to determine if what I do or who I am is right or wrong. Especially not with their goddamn fists. Asshole mother fucking…

I lose my train of thought as dizziness overtakes me, and I let out a quiet cry of pain. I know I won't be awake for much longer, that I will return to the darkness. And maybe that won't be so bad. At least then I won't feel anymore. I'll be numb and I can escape everything in soothing oblivion.

Just before the blackness claims me though, I hear loud footsteps approaching, and a cry of shock. I can't process what is happening; there is someone hear, someone touching me, someone talking to me, but their words come out warped and strange. Before I pass out I manage to open my eyes, and once again the last thing I see before I slip away is Brian's face.

***Brian POV

I walk swiftly, my eyes searching. He told me he was studying, so I know the direction we would've walked back from. I figure that's my best bet of finding him. He probably just got caught up studying, and his phone died or something. Yeah. That's it.

So far, everything is quiet and still. I sigh, and consider turning back. Why the fuck am I doing this, anyway? By the time I get back he'll probably be there already. I am about to give up and go home when I hear a slight moaning sound. I start to move faster, towards the alley where the sound came from. I turn quickly, and am stopped in my tracks.

Ice covers my heart. He is there, lying there, covered in blood. I am taken back, back to that parking garage, back to baseball bats and silken scarves and cold white hospitals. And I am frozen. Not again. But I break free from this spell of memories and rush forward, knowing that right now he is the only thing that matters. An uncontrollable cry of shock and fear escapes my lips and I kneel by him. My chest feels as though it is constricted, a heavy weight pressed down upon it. I cannot breathe or think.

"Justin!" I call. "Justin!" Oh god. Please, please wake up. He looks dead, oh god he looks dead. My mind swirls and I call out more desperately. "Justin! Justin wake up please!" His eyes open, and my heart stops. For a second his ice blue eyes pierce mine, and for a second I can breathe. But he closes them again. "No, no, Justin you have to stay awake. Justin you have to- Christ!" I don't know what to do. Everything is bright colors and dark shadows and I just can't fucking breathe. Luckily I remember to pull out my cellphone and call 911.

As soon as someone answers, I hurriedly yell out what's happened, and where I am. The operator tries to ask more questions, but I hang up with a "Just get a fucking ambulance. Now." I turn back to Justin and my heart is in my throat and my brain is misfiring and there is so, so much blood.

"Justin," I whisper, grabbing his hand "It's gonna be okay. I know it will." I am lying through my teeth, but who the fuck cares. He probably can't hear me anyway. "You're gonna be okay." I think I say this to reassure myself more than him. He has to be okay, he just has to be. I think about praying to god, but I think better of it. What kind of a sick god would let this happen to Justin… again? I close my eyes against a sharp sting of tears. Brian Kinney doesn't do crying. Well, hell, Brian Kinney doesn't do worry either, and here I am, fucking worrying. What's one more broken rule? Resigned, I let go, and I feel the tears slide down my cheeks.

I look down at him, helpless. There is nothing I can do, except wait. He looks so broken, like a toy a vindictive child got tired of and decided to smash into a wall repeatedly, just for kicks. His hair is matted with blood, blood which is pouring from everywhere and staining his body crimson red. I desperately try to think of some way I can help, but my mind isn't functioning properly. My body is shutting down as well; the weight on my chest is only getting heavier, and I feel like I've been knifed in the gut. The knife twists in my stomach as minutes pass, and he doesn't stir. The only thing that slightly calms me is his shallow breathing. It's barely there, but it means he's still alive. I am still holding his hand when the ambulance arrives.