Brian's POV

I pulled away before my eye irritation could come back full swing. Then I cleared my throat and said what I'd been holding back.

"You need to decide what comes next. What you might want to happen in the future."

Justin had been looking at me, but, now, he was looking at the floor. I knew that he knew what I meant, what I wanted him to do.

His voice was low, almost a growl. "You're a fucking hypocrite."

I blinked, but didn't respond.

"You didn't report the accident. Before you knew my father was the one who rammed the Jeep, you didn't report it."

What could I say?

"You're right. I didn't report it, and I am a hypocrite because I want you to report this, and I want a doctor to examine you. But I'm not you. In the end, the choice is yours."

Justin's voice was loud and angrier now.

"What the hell is the point anyway? Say I do report this and go through the humiliation of a physical examination. What then? Do you know how seldom reports of rape lead to conviction?"

I shuddered at the word. Rape. I closed my eyes tight for a moment, fighting the urge to punch something or cry. Somehow, hearing it out loud made it more real.

"...Or how short are the prison sentences convicted rapists receive? On top of that, I can't remember much. Throw the fact that I'm gay into the equation, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that the chances of whoever did whatever they did being caught and punished are very, very slim. Almost infinitesimal. I'm surprised Chris Hobbs didn't get a pat on the back for putting the gay boy flaunting his disgusting lifestyle in his place…"

I flinched visibly.

"…I can't even imagine what a judge would say about this. What my father would say. 'One perversion breeds another. You were just asking for it.' Or better yet… 'Gay men do drugs and fuck strangers all the time. This crime sounds like a regular Friday night on Liberty Avenue.'"

I clenched my jaw and balled my fists so tight that my knuckles were turning white, but, when Justin's eyes finally met mine, blue eyes vulnerable and drowning in tears that had yet to fall, I forced the tension out of my body. I sighed. I needed to be patient.

"Again, you're right. Finding the fuckheads who did this and making them pay wouldn't be easy. It may not even be possible. But you are still bitter about Hobbs, and he was actually charged. If you don't even try to find them and make them pay, will you be okay with that? The Justin I know is a fighter. He stands up for what's right even when the odds are stacked against him."

"Maybe that's who I was…before the bashing…" Justin's voice was so small.

I scoffed, "Fuck that! It may have been more difficult after the bashing, but you never stopped fighting. You worked hard in rehab, struggling to get back the mobility in your hand. You braved the streets when you were suffering anxiety from the bashing. You marched in the Pride parade even after seeing Hobbs at the hospice. You even dared the admissions committee at PIFA not only to take you as you were but also to view your so-called disadvantage as an advantage. You did all that to show Hobbs, yourself, and the world that homophobic assholes couldn't keep you down. Shit, with that first issue of Rage, you reached out to the gay community, not just on Liberty Avenue but everywhere, giving them an outlet for their anger and frustration and inspiring them to fight injustice in their own lives. Hell, just you being you, living, standing, and thriving, is an inspiration. All of that was insanely difficult for you. I know. But you did it anyway because that's who you are. That's the intrepid twink you've always been, always will be."

I knew that, in his head, Justin was adding buts to everything I was saying as I said it, that is, until the end. When I mentioned the fairy tale, the anger, bitterness, and self-loathing cleared a bit, and he smiled. Not a full-on Sunshine smile. But whatever its wattage, the smile reached his eyes.

I couldn't help but smile back.

Justin vs. those who would try to hurt and control him and homophobes everywhere was back on.

Justin's POV

When Brian went out to the Jeep to get his cell phone, I thought,

"All I want to do is crumble.

But I won't.

More memories lost. This time, I am less eager to remember.

But I will.

Because, as Brian so kindly reminded me, that's who I am."