Brian couldn't believe that he was sitting yet again in a hospital emergency room, waiting once more for word on his partner's condition. Flashes of that horrible night of Justin's prom and the bombing at Babylon invaded his thoughts. How much can one man be asked to bear? Hadn't he been through ENOUGH already? Why HIM? Why US? Things had been so good for them this past year. They had been so happy, so in sync with each other. They were building a life together. Why? The word kept echoing in his head.
The intensive care physician, a Dr. Morrissey, had advised him he would provide an update as soon as possible. Thank God he and Justin had taken the time to prepare a medical power of attorney for each other. He had hoped like hell they would never have to use it. But at least it now provided him with the authority to be kept up-to-date on Justin's condition.
His condition. Brian couldn't believe it. In a fit of supreme irony, Ted had once actually chosen HIM to make the decision as to whether or not to "pull the plug" when his, yeah, he dared to say it, his friend, had been slipped the same fucking drug by that Blake guy in a drink at his apartment. How fucking ironic is it that Brian would have to be placed in the same life or death position twice, and over the same drug? And with a person who meant so much more than Ted ever could? A person Brian could not live without. How could he even make that decision, if it came to that? He prayed, yes PRAYED, that he would not be put in that situation. Please, Sunshine, fight this. Don't make me have to decide. Brian covered his eyes with his lean hands and dropped his elbows onto his knees, placing his head in his hands, totally spent, physically and emotionally.
"Brian?" He looked up as he noticed Carl approaching from the lobby entrance. "Any word?" he asked, as he sat down in an adjacent chair.
"No, not really," Brian replied with a sigh. "The doctor came out a little while ago just to tell me they were still working on him. Said he was still unconscious and his breathing was slow. They're trying to get his body temperature elevated and his heart rate to increase. He said everyone reacts differently to the drug. I DID get the chance to tell him about Justin's allergies so they didn't give him a drug that could be dangerous to him. But he said for now that's all he knows." Rubbing a hand over his weary face, he asked Carl, "What happened at the police station? They didn't let that fucker go, did they?" he asked warily. "That son of a bitch has a lot of explaining to do, if he's allowed to live, that is," he snarled.
"No, he's still being held," Carl assured him. "In fact, we've found out some interesting information that just might keep him locked up for an even longer time," the detective informed him.
"What information? I already know the man is totally without morals and deserves to have his balls ripped out. I'd be glad to volunteer for that duty any time," he mentioned scathingly.
"Well, we already know his buddy, Comisar, was persuaded to help lure Justin out here to Lancaster on an art commission so Prescott could meet him for lunch."
"You mean lure Justin out here so he could fucking kidnap him and practically rape him while he was unable to fight back!" Brian replied contemptuously, his outburst earning several curious looks from nearby waiting room visitors. At least the fucker didn't get that far.
"Well," Carl continued undeterred, "one of my guys who was checking out your loft today found a bug planted on your landline phone. Something tells me Prescott might just be behind the call that was made to Keller to cancel your security detail. That would explain how the caller had your cancellation code. If he was, that will get him socked with fraud and wiretapping charges, in addition to what he's already facing."
"There's just no end to the fucker's talents," Brian bit back sarcastically. "I spoke to Cynthia a little while ago. She did some digging into Jack Belden's background – he's the guy I met with in Chicago while Prescott was practicing his literary and stalking skills on Justin," he explained disdainfully. "Seems Belden and Prescott are fraternity brothers. They both attended the University of Chicago together. Convenient, huh?"
"He was certainly thorough when it came to his plans," Carl agreed. "And the fact that he not only purchased an illegal drug with the intention of using it on Justin, but also moored his boat at the marina near the restaurant to use it afterward, will no doubt add premeditation charges onto the ones he's already facing for kidnapping, illegal wiretapping, and possibly attempted rape. Trust me, Brian, this guy's not going anywhere for a LONG time."
"Yeah, that's what I thought when Hobbs was arrested, too. And he practically got off scot free! If that fucker ever DOES get out, he won't be alive for long. I'll fucking see to that," he vehemently assured the other man.
Carl was just about to caution the brunet about not taking the law into his own hands when he observed a doctor approaching them. Brian looked up as he noticed Carl's attention being diverted. Standing immediately as he noticed Dr. Morrissey, he asked anxiously, "How is he, doctor?"
The man smiled encouragingly. "He's awake, Mr. Kinney." Brian was elated; he turned to immediately rush back to the patient rooms when the doctor stopped him gently with a grasp of his shoulder. "You can see him," he verified to the other man. "BUT you need to make sure he gets his rest. And you need to be aware that your partner is still experiencing some residual effects from the drug, although I expect them to subside and eventually go away entirely in a few days."
Concerned, Brian asked, "What kind of residual effects?"
"Well, he will likely feel very drowsy and maybe disoriented for several more hours, and could experience some occasional nausea. He could also feel some muscle tension or spasms, along with possible speech impairment. But I'm hopeful these effects will only be temporary. Justin's health and age are a positive influence toward a full recovery. And we have given him medications that will hopefully counteract most of the residual effects until his body can help fight them off." Anticipating Brian's next question, the doctor advised him, "And, yes, we have carefully checked these medications against the list of allergies he has to make sure he's not being given something potentially dangerous. I'll be in to check on him again in an hour or so. He's in Room 14 if you want to see him now."
"Thank you, doctor," Brian replied, as the doctor nodded briefly and returned to the emergency ward.
Brian took a deep breath, forcing himself to push back the extreme contempt and hatred he felt toward Prescott, especially after the doctor had explained what Justin might still have to deal with while he struggled against the effects of the GHB. He decided it was more important right now that he concentrate on his partner's recovery. He would have of plenty time afterward to see that Prescott gets exactly what the fucker deserves – NO mercy.
"Tell Justin we're all behind him," Carl said. "I'll call Debbie and let her know what's going on. I'm sure it will only take one call to her to get the word out to everyone else," he explained, smiling knowingly.
"Yeah, I'm sure you're right," Brian answered, acknowledging the truth of the man's statement; Debbie's communication system was faster than any e-mail could ever be. Smiling slightly at the detective, Brian eagerly walked to the double swinging doors of the emergency room's inner sanctum and began searching for the hospital room that held a most cherished treasure and a long-awaited reunion with his lover.
He finally located Room #14 midway down the hallway on the right. Pushing the cracked door open further, he immediately noticed several machines hooked up, emitting the annoying, cacophonous beeping noises so typical of hospitals. Fortunately, however, except for the oxygen tube in Justin's nose and a blood pressure finger cuff on the blond's left hand, the only other tube trailing from his partner's bed was a continuous IV drip, no doubt dispensing the various medications Dr. Morrissey had mentioned previously to Brian that were helping to reduce the drug's side effects.
Brian observed that Justin was lying on his side, his back to the door. Even if he hadn't known which room his partner was in, he would have recognized him immediately by the shiny, blond head lying like a silky, soft cloud on the pillow. Justin apparently heard the creaking of the door being opened wider, because he turned his head slowly at that moment to face his partner with blue eyes that were atypically cloudy and storm-tossed, not like the clue, sky-blue orbs that Brian always felt he could get lost in forever.
"Justin?" he said nervously, tentatively. "Hey. How are you feeling?" Brian picked up a nearby chair, pulling it closer to his lover. Sitting down, he reached to gently pick up a pale, trembling hand, nervously caressing it with his thumb.
Justin didn't answer at first. He blinked his eyes a few times, seemingly trying to focus them more clearly. After several seconds, Brian felt the blond slightly squeeze his hand in a silent acknowledgement of his presence. "Tired, so tired," he finally answered in a soft, raspy voice.
"Shh," Brian murmured soothingly, tenderly smoothing the errant hair back from his lover's forehead that had fallen into the fluttering eyes that were now struggling to stay open. "Don't try to talk right now, Sunshine. Just rest. They'll be time to talk later. I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere," he confirmed, his voice choking. He placed his other hand over the top of the slender one, holding it now like a cocoon. "Sleep," he repeated softly. He watched as Justin's face finally seemed to relax as he sighed softly, his eyes fluttering a few more times before closing in slumber.
Still holding onto his lover's hand as if it were a lifeline, Brian finally lay his exhausted head down on the side of the bed, close enough to touch the blond's chest and feel the reassuring heartbeat of the man who had so irrevocably stolen his own heart so many years ago.
Justin fought to open his eyes, even though it felt like there a weight trying to keep them securely closed. He eventually succeeded in opening them slightly, enough to determine that his partner was hunched half over in his hospital bed, the auburn-colored head lying awkwardly near his chest, both hands possessively clutching one of his own.
He felt like there was a wad of cotton in his mouth. Trying to swish his tongue around inside to relieve some of the extreme dryness, he attempted to half raise himself in the bed, only succeeding in feeling a sharp spasm in his left side. He couldn't help groaning as he quickly flopped back down on the bed. That was a bad idea, he decided.
"Justin?" Brian's head immediately raised itself from the bed, concern evident in the handsome but tired features. "What is it?"
"Brian," Justin murmured. "What happened? Where am I?" he asked softly, his voice strained.
Releasing his double hold on the blond's hand, but not letting go entirely, he answered, "You're in a hospital in Lancaster, Sunshine. Emmett told me about you coming here with Comisar for a painting he had commissioned," he offered in explanation as to why he was there in Lancaster. "How much do you remember of what happened?" Brian didn't know how good an idea it was to rehash his partner's horrible experience with Prescott, but he thought it was important to make sure he was not experiencing any memory loss because of the GHB.
Justin struggled to recall the past few days; everything seemed so jumbled right now. Trying hard to concentrate, he replied haltingly, "I remember flying out here with Vince to put my painting up at the restaurant. Then he asked me if I wanted to stay for lunch, but he told me he couldn't join me."
Brian noticed the blond hesitating, fear, dread and guilt clearly written all over his beautiful partner's face. "What else do you remember, Justin?" he prompted him gently. "Tell me. It's okay, Sunshine," he replied quietly, trying to reassure his lover.
Justin bit his lip nervously. "Well," he stammered, his voice shaky. Brian wasn't sure if it was because Justin was apprehensive about his reaction or if it was from the effects of the drug. "Vince had one of his workers take me back to one of the private dining rooms in the rear. I just thought I would get something quick to eat and get back to Pittsburgh. To you," he added in explanation, looking shyly at Brian. Brian gently squeezed his lover's hand, encouraging him to go on.
The tears threatened to fall from the slowly-focusing sapphire eyes as he continued, this time more in a mournful rush, "I swear, Brian, I didn't know!" he cried repentantly. Somehow he knew that Brian understood who he meant without even saying the name. "I didn't know he would be here. I had no fucking idea until I saw him sitting there. I was so scared, Brian. He was so creepy. I wanted so badly to turn around and run, but it was like I was frozen to the spot. He was so intense – I was afraid of what he might do." Justin let out a shaky breath, trying to collect his composure before he broke down entirely in front of the man he loved more than anything. He didn't understand why his body felt so weak and out of control suddenly.
"Breathe, Sunshine. Take a deep breath. I'm right here. Hold onto me. This will all pass. Look at me," he commanded gently. Brian placed his fingers under the blond's chin, tenderly raising it so Justin's eyes could meet his. So Justin could know that Brian wasn't blaming him for what had happened.
Looking deeply into the encouraging, hazel eyes, he took another shaky breath as he tried to calm himself. He searched within himself to remember additional details of his shocking reunion with Prescott. "I told him, Brian. I told him that I loved you, that nothing had changed, except that I loved you even more now," he insisted to his partner. "I thought he understood, Brian. He said he understood." Justin harrumphed slightly in derision as he thought of the absurdity of what happened next. "He said all he wanted was a drink. He wanted to give a toast to my happiness. What a fool I was! Naïve little Justin actually believed him." He shook his head, unexpectedly feeling another small spasm, this time in his chest. He flinched slightly at the sudden pain, producing a frowned look of concern on his partner's face.
"Justin. You need to rest. We can talk about this later," Brian interrupted him.
"No, Brian. I need to tell you. I need you to know." He insisted, struggling stubbornly to remember all of what had happened. He frowned. Why did he feel so confused? "He, he picked up his glass of champagne and started to give a toast. He drank some of it and then looked at me, waiting for me to take a sip." Justin swallowed, trying once again to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth. "I remember thinking this was good, because I could take a drink and then get out of there." He continued tiredly in explanation, "Back to the loft. Back to you," he said pointedly, looking intensely at his lover. "I think I remember getting up to leave, but I felt so dizzy all of a sudden. Light headed." The blond's face clouded over with worry and a pained realization as he told his partner, "I can't remember anything else. Until I woke up here. Brian, how did I get here in this hospital?" he asked breathlessly. "Why am I here? How did you get here? What happened to me?" he cried, his agitation growing. He again tried to raise himself up in the bed, but was gently restrained by Brian's hands firmly grasping both of his shoulders.
"Shh, Sunshine, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe now. I will never let anything else happen to you ever again, you hear me? Now you're going to fucking lie back down and get some more rest," he tenderly admonished his lover, slowly forcing Justin to recline once again fully on the bed. Sighing in frustration but acquiescing to his lover, his body's weakness and fatigue caught up with him as he allowed himself to succumb to sleep, his eyes once again slowly closing in surrender.
Brian leaned over closer as he continued to stare at the beautiful, independent, but vulnerable man once again sleeping beside him. He placed a soft kiss on the other man's lips, whispering once again his vow to him. "That man will never hurt you again, Sunshine. Never."