CHAPTER 5: Between the blues we cannot name*

Monday, March 18, 2002

He could hear the smooth whisky of Van Morrison's Days Like This before he reached the loft door. The cables groaned slightly beneath the weight of the heavy metal sliding back and he was immediately warmed by the sweet aroma of corned beef. Brian pulled his lips between his teeth to stave off the wide grin that threatened to break out on his face when he saw the girl slowly swaying back and forth to the bluesy music – bandana tight around her bouncy curls as she shook her head back forth, dish towel thrown across her shoulder, wooden spoon held in front of her like a hand mike. She was so into her space she hadn't heard the door open, didn't notice Brian walking up behind her.

"Jesus Christ!" she squealed when Brian grabbed the spoon and placed it on the stove top, pulled her into his arms and began the slow dance. When the recognition came, her alarm settled into an embarrassed smile and she let him lead the steps they had practiced on so many occasions lately.

"Why do you always scare the shit out of me, Brian?"

"You zone out so completely, Princess, that the whole of Pittsburgh could sneak up on you." He laughed and dipped her slightly before placing a brotherly kiss on the tip of her nose and releasing her. "Smells good, but what's the occasion?"

"Class let out early today, and I thought I'd drop in and see if you wanted to celebrate it with me."

Brian shrugged off his jacket and placed his briefcase on the island stool. "Deal… if you'll give me a few minute to shower and change… and promise I won't be wearing it before the meal's over."

"Never let me live that down, will you?" She blushed lightly at the reminder of a less friendly encounter in their past. "But, in my own defense, I thought you deserved it at the time."

Brian's face blanched at the memory of that eventful run-in at the Greek restaurant so many months ago. "We both know I probably did."

"No. You didn't. I was wrong about that, Brian," Daphne said as she turned and placed her arms around her handsome, sad friend. "I was wrong about a lot of things then."

"We both were." Brian kissed the top of the young girl's head and walked into the shower, hoping that this time the hot water would wash away some of the guilt he still carried. But he knew it wouldn't. Couldn't get him clean again.

As he stood beneath the nearly scalding spray, his hands soaped and running through his hair, he closed his eyes against the memory that would invariably torture him. Or to welcome that sublime torture as the images began to assault him. Other hair, another body. Seductive and sweet. Voluptuous and virginal. Lithe muscles welcoming him inside so eagerly… unjaded hands desperately seeking some hold on the glass as he pressed against it… teasing, tasting, giving… accepting him…

"Fuck!" Brian whispered desperately as he pressed his own body back against the glass enclosure, breath ragged and heart racing. Just the erotic mental images of the one night he and Justin had shared their bodies again and again threatened to push him over that edge. With one hand sliding down to his engorged cock, one touch, one thrust into his own fist and he came explosively, a single word longingly groaned out into the now chilly spray. "Justin…"

TCTCTCTC

Sixteen months earlier:

"No one knows you here, Justin. They are not all looking at you."

Goddamned news reports! Justin's anxiety had reached almost paralyzing levels, paranoia even, as a result of the seemingly never ending reports of the attack and Hobbs' hospitalization. They had finally eased off – just a mention or two now that Chris had come out of the coma and his injuries were being reported. But it had affected Justin to the point that he was closing himself up in the guest room at her house. He couldn't return to school since the expulsion – not that he would consider it anyway with Hobbs' crew of friends still running around free as birds. The only time she could force him out of the room was when he had to see the attorney. Today Mr. Pappas had called him in to go over some details about Hobbs' actions toward him in the days before the attack, and she had jumped on the opportunity to make him do something else – anything else.

Last week's visit to the attorney had been devastating to her friend. Finding out that his parents had essentially abandoned him to a fate he certainly didn't deserve, that Brian Kinney had paid for his bail and the attorney fees, and then the horribly emotional encounter with Kinney at his loft… It was all just too much. When she had finally been able to get him back to her house, he'd immediately hidden himself away again. She didn't know what the hell to do, but she had promised then and there she would not let him become a hermit, not let him hide himself away like some diseased leper. He was Justin Taylor, damnit. He was the beautiful, brave, free spirit that held them together. He was her fucking best friend!

So, here they were, a week later sitting in a dark restaurant on the far side of town, a restaurant that was way too expensive, way too mature for their tastes. But it was close to the attorney's office, and it was quiet and removed from most of the eyes Justin felt were following him all the time.

"Jus. I have to go to the restroom before the food comes. Will you be okay?" At the slightly panicked look on her friend's face, she promised, "I'll be right back." With his nod she squeezed his shoulder lightly and turned toward the main area of the dining room.

As she left the restroom and walked back toward the table where she had left her friend, Daphne felt a tension start in the back of her throat. Justin was gone. Maybe he went to the restroom, too, she thought hopefully, all the while frantically looking around the room.

And there he was. Standing rigidly at a table with George Pappas.

And that fucker, Brian Kinney.

As she approached the group of men, she could hear bits and pieces of the whispered, angry words her friend spit out. "… can't even leave the house… you are free to go where you want… ruined my life…" She could see Justin's fists balled up tightly at his sides, and Mr. Pappas' hand restraining her friend as he leaned in closely toward Brian Kinney's face. The expression on the older man's face was unreadable as he sat silently absorbing Justin's quiet tirade. When she saw Kinney's hand move toward Justin as if to touch him, the anger and frustration of the last two months broke loose inside her.

"Don't!" she hissed. "Don't you fucking dare touch him!"

"Ms. Chanders…" George Pappas began, trying to avoid the confrontation he felt was inevitable.

"This moment, right here, does not concern you, Mr. Pappas. This is about him." She turned her eyes toward Brian, whose face was as expressionless as ever, but whose eyes were flashing with unspoken emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Brian gathered himself to speak. He would never let anyone, especially the little hellcat staring him down, know exactly how much this encounter had shaken him. The guilt he carried from his part in Justin's problems was eating him alive. He hadn't been able to sleep, to eat, to even fucking think for the last two months. His work was beginning to suffer from the stress, he hadn't been able to be around his friends for weeks, and he was himself avoiding being in public when he didn't have to be. When George had called him to discuss Justin's case over dinner, he had almost refused. He wished now that he had.

"I'm trying to enjoy my dinner, Ms. Chanders. This is a restaurant. That's what one usually does here." Christ! He knew his sarcasm wasn't necessary, but he fucking couldn't help it. Suck it up, Kinney. They are dealing with a hell of a lot more than you are right now.

In one swift movement of Daphne's hand, Brian's dinner was suddenly spilling down the front of his beautiful Armani jacket, settling into his lap. "Then we certainly wouldn't want to intrude upon your enjoyment, Mr. Kinney." She could not have cared less about the cost of the suit, or the shock on the faces of both Brian and the attorney. Turning to her friend, she hugged him to her and whispered, "Let's go home, Jus," as she led the stunned young man to her car.

Later, as Daphne stood outside Justin's closed door, her heart breaking with every sob she heard him make, she had no fucking idea what to do to help him. He was falling apart completely through all this. And she had never been so scared for anyone in her life. She regretted, now, her actions at the restaurant, but it just fucking wasn't fair! She realized, now, just how valid Justin's fears were about not feeling safe in public. How the hell was he supposed to handle all this at seventeen? Fuck his goddamned parents! Fuck Hobbs and his stupid group of friends! And fuck Brian Kinney!

The angry young woman stood up and walked down to the den, pulling out a bottle of her father's liquor, not giving two shits what it was. At the top of the stairs, she pushed open the door to the guest room. Justin was lying curled on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, hiccupping deeply. Daphne reached over and shook him lightly.

"C'mon, Justin. You and I are going to get drunk."

"We don't drink, Daph."

"Yeah, well, we don't do a lot of other stuff we seem to be doing lately either, so…" She took a long pull from the bottle, yelping at the burn as the bourbon found its way through her. Justin took the bottle from her hands and followed suit. They drank until everything was funny, and kept drinking until everything was sad again.

As he looked at the nearly empty bottle, trying desperately to focus his eyes on the label swimming before them, Justin quietly said, "You know, this is the shit my dad drinks." Daphne pulled him awkwardly into her arms as they lay on the bed. She could feel the tremors begin in his slight shoulders as the pain once again filled him. There was just too much of it to drink away.

"I'm sorry, Jus. I'm so sorry they treat you like this."

"You. You're the only one, Daph, the only one… Why can't anybody else love me? What'd I ever do that was so… fucking bad?" She could hear the pain taking over him – she felt it too – and she knew she wanted to do anything to make him stop hurting. Even for a minute.

"I love you, Jus. I'm here. Shhh…"

Neither one of them knew who kissed who first. Neither one of them cared at that moment. They both just knew they needed… something… someone. It didn't seem wrong or strange or anything but necessary. And as Justin entered her, neither one thought about the lack of a condom or that she was a virgin or that he was gay – they were absorbed in the pain and the anger and the need and the alcohol. They would both remember in the morning, adding one more guilt to their growing measure of it, but they wouldn't mention it. If they didn't mention it, they could pretend. At least for a little while.

TCTCTCTC

Tuesday, March 19, 2002

Justin sat anxiously at the plain table in the common area, his fingers tapping on the table top, knee bouncing up and down beneath it. The smile already fixed on his beautiful face grew wider still as he saw Daphne and Brian both walk through the door. Looking over quickly at the guard watching the entrance, he took a deep breath and mustered all the reserves he had to keep himself from rushing both of them into his arms. He had never been so excited to see anyone!

"God, thank you!" A few tears fought with his smile as he hugged Brian just a little tighter and longer than permitted. "Thank you for sending them. I haven't stopped looking at them since yesterday," he whispered into Brian's ear. He released Brian quickly, seeing the guard shift slightly toward them, but not so quickly that he missed the tightening of Brian's arms at his whispered words.

Daphne reached up and pulled Justin into a hug as Brian composed himself. Just that slight contact had him so emotional, so painfully aware of the limitations this place imposed on everyone. Yet it meant more than any extended intimacy he had known. When he felt Justin's breath on his neck as he whispered to him… God, he just needed to touch him. Really hold him. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat as he walked toward their assigned area.

"She's beautiful, isn't she," Daphne, Brian and Justin all sat with their fingertips almost touching on the table. The smile on her face, almost matching the one on Justin's, glowed as she asked the question. Justin had never met his daughter, had never even seen a picture of her before yesterday. It would have meant so much more if they could have delivered the pictures personally. She hated the damned prison rules. But from the look on Justin's face, she knew it didn't really matter. He was ecstatic.

"She's like… this perfect blend of us, Daph. All blue eyes and coffee skin."

"And that grin! Justin, that grin is so you!"

Brian smiled at the excitement of the two teenagers. And for at least this few minutes in time, that's what they were. He could almost forget for a moment that they were all adults sitting inside a fucking prison talking about a child these two had given up for adoption. He fucking hated – hated – that these sad circumstances were the happiest things in their lives right now. Christ! There had to be something...

The phone call he'd received from George last night – a phone call he definitely wasn't going to bring up to the pair today – hadn't given much hope for success at the upcoming parole hearing. George admitted that Justin had been a model prisoner. He dutifully performed every thankless job they assigned to him, he had done his hours of coursework to obtain his required GED, and he followed every fucking rule they handed out to him. But with his own parents prepared to give statements against release at the hearing, with the severity of Hobbs' continuing medical problems, and with Justin's adamant refusal to admit any guilt, Justin was fighting a losing battle. Another losing battle.

"Brian?" Daphne's concerned voice brought Brian out of his reverie.

"I'm sorry. What?"

Justin laughed at the man's obvious confusion. "It's okay, Brian. I do a lot of that myself."

"A lot of what? Stammering?" Brian was slightly embarrassed at having been caught giving them less than his full attention, especially today.

"A lot of daydreaming." The gentle chuckle and the smile on Justin's face told Brian he wasn't upset, that he knew Brian's thoughts had been drawn away to another important place or time. Brian had no idea of how often Justin's own thoughts were torn out of the present. Try as he might to focus his mind on the here and now, just to be present in this new life in order to accept it, he found himself slipping to other Tuesdays, to a single night on Liberty Avenue, to his fifth birthday party – to anything happy.

"I was telling Jus about the Waverly's, how kind they were to you about the photos."

"Yeah, they're good people and I'm glad you were able to choose them yourself. You gave Bryn the second best family she could have." Brian's fingers smoothed back a stray lock of Daphne's unruly hair, but his eyes were speaking to Justin.

She should have been with you.

She's where she should be, Brian.

They had played this argument out before.

"I'm still… I'm so sorry, Daph. I could never regret that Bryn was born, but she's just something else you shouldn't have had to give up. Because of me." The ease of the day seemed to end as the guilt each held, that each fought against every single day, resurfaced.

"Wait a minute, Justin Taylor. If I remember correctly, it definitely takes two to have a child, and I was the one who decided to place her for adoption." Daphne straightened up in her seat as she played with Justin's fingers on the table.

"No!" Justin hissed out the words. "You were ram-rodded into giving her up! If Brian hadn't been there…" Justin's voice trailed off as he let the anger at his mother, at Daphne's mother overtake him.

"But he was there. And I still made the decision." Daphne said quietly, reaching for Brian's hand.

"At least you know where she is. And you know that she's beautiful and healthy. And happy. Those are the important things," Brian stated. "What your parents did is… unforgivable. But they didn't totally win."

The sound Justin made when he laughed held no trace of humor. "When did my parents ever do anything that wasn't unforgivable? I… I'll just never understand why?"

"Because they are small minded, hate filled bigots who are so blinded by their need to protect their social façade that they can't see the fucking beauty they had in you." Brian's face drew up in anger and renewed hatred of the people who were supposed to love and protect this boy – this man. He had trusted them. They had fucking taught him to trust them. Had given him the perfect life. And they didn't even have the guts to face him… to tell him why they threw him away. Gutless shits.

"You think I'm a beauty, huh?" Brian snorted at Justin's obvious attempt to bring him back from the brink. God, the boy could make him laugh, could bring him up from the lowest low.

"Oh, yeah," Brian retorted. "A definite beauty." He lightly traced his thumb over the now healed tattoo on Justin's middle finger.

He should be… he would be…free.

If it was the last fucking thing Brian ever did, he would make sure of that.

TCTCTCTC

Ten months earlier:

"At this point, Daphne, what you want is not the main priority. The future of that child is." Jennifer Taylor stared down at the girl lying in the rumpled hospital bed. She was still struggling to grasp the fact that neither she nor Craig had been made aware of Daphne's pregnancy, a pregnancy for which her son was apparently responsible. God, just how many ways could her son humiliate this family? Gay, the attack on Hobbs, the trial and conviction, and now…this? Where in his life had they gone wrong?

Daphne lay exhausted and devastated. Less than six hours ago she had given birth to a daughter… her child. Justin's child. A child who shouldn't have been born for another two and a half months. Just yesterday – and god, it seemed so much longer ago than that – her daughter had been safely cradled inside her. Protected. Safe. A secret. As the bailiff read the jury's verdict she felt the first searing pain slice through her back. As the guards handcuffed Justin and led him out of the courtroom, his name tore itself from her throat; her body ripped itself in two. The last thing she remembered was Brian, his face tear streaked and agonized, rocking her on the courtroom floor as she slipped from bloody red to sweet black reprieve.

"Go away." It was meant to be a scream. An order. But a grating hiss was all she could manage. The blood loss – the surgery – the pain. She was so fucking weak and she just wanted to be alone. With her daughter.

"Oh, no, young lady. You and Justin wanted to play at being all grown up?" Jennifer Taylor's voice carried with it every ounce of the condescension she had cultivated in her forty years. "Now you will act like an adult for once."

"Daphne, Mrs. Taylor is right. You can't take care of a child – a premature, sick child," Abby Chanders smoothed back the hair from her daughter's forehead. She loved her daughter, and she had supported Justin when his parents weren't there for him. But this… she was ruining her life for this boy. "You aren't married, Daphne, and who knows how long Justin will be in prison. You need to sign the papers."

Daphne didn't have the energy left to cry. She couldn't feel beyond the pain and fatigue, the confusion of the last twenty-four hours. Justin was gone; her baby was struggling just to breathe. And she hadn't even told him! He never knew about her. Oh, god, she had made so many bad decisions, had fucked up so badly – but she had tried so hard to do the right thing. To be strong and not put any more on him. She had kept her secret and had begged Brian to keep it, too, when he guessed. She only hoped that one day Justin would be able to forgive her. But this… no. No. She could not give her child to the Taylors. He would never forgive her for that.

"We can give her everything she needs – the best medical treatments, a good home, a loving home."

"What the fuck? A fucking loving home? You?" Brian had heard Jennifer Taylor's last comments as he entered the room. Just what the hell did they think they were doing? "Get the FUCK out of this room!"

"Mr. Kinney…" Daphne's mother turned toward the angry man. "This is MY daughter. You have no right here."

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. NOW! Before I call security." Brian pressed his face close to Abby Chander's. "Your daughter has just had a child. She went through fucking surgery not six hours ago! How the hell dare you come in here with your bullshit documents and try to force her into a decision while she's on fucking morphine!"

"I think I can provide…"

Brian cut Jennifer's comment off. "You can provide shit! The same shit you provided for your son! Now, I will warn you for the last time. Get out. Believe me, Mrs. Taylor… Daphne will make up her own mind about her daughter. But I can guarantee, you will not touch that child."

He sat carefully on the side of the hospital bed and drew a shaking Daphne close, kissing her gently on the forehead. "It's okay, baby." He knew it was far from okay, even as the two women left the room. But it was all he could offer.

*Delilah Blue, words and music by Joshua Kadison.