Brian's POV

Carl had been keeping the story out of the papers, but, apparently, he could no longer manage it. The headline glared at me like an accusation: Gay PIFA Student Raped in Abandoned House. The perpetrators had not yet been identified, and I worried that Justin wasn't recovered enough to handle questions from the press and concerned friends and family. Mother Taylor and Deb would surely have my head for helping Justin to keep this a secret, but they tended to blame me for just about anything anyway. The phone started ringing. I doubted that it would stop anytime soon.

Suddenly, I heard screaming. "No, no, so, STOP, please stop." Justin.

I rushed to the bed and found Justin awake and shaking. I took him into my arms and whispered, "I'm here, Angel."

He half-spoke, half-sobbed, "I remember. I remember it all."

I caressed his face and kissed his forehead. I dreaded what he would say, but I needed to know.

Justin's POV

"Do you see this?" Ethan hissed. "I bought this for you. In fact, it was part of a matching set."

He lifted his hand. He was wearing an identical ring.

"Why did you have to ruin everything? Why? All for that fucking whore Brian!

I whispered, "Ethan. Ethan was there."

I continued, "Ethan invited me to the apartment to 'get some closure.' I felt guilty, so I agreed to stay and talk. He'd cooked dinner. He persuaded me to eat with him. But when he got a little handsy, I tried to leave. Then, I started feeling dizzy, and everything went black. When I awoke, someone was holding me up, while Ethan yelled at me. He showed me rings he'd bought for us. He was wearing one. He backhanded me several times with the hand it was on. He must have knocked me out because the next thing I remember is waking up on the bed, tied down…and…No. No. No."

I shook my head frantically. No. It couldn't be.

"I told you you'd get AIDS one day, Taylor. Now all that's left is for you to die."

I stared off into space, remembering, a look of resignation on my face. I said slowly, "I'm going to get sick and die."

"What? Talk to me, Angel."

Hearing Brian call me by my sub name brought me back to the present.

"Wha-what?"

Brian stared at me closely, trying to get a clue from my facial expression and body language about what I was thinking and feeling.

He replied carefully, "You just said that you were going to get sick and die. Why would you say that?"

I hung my head low, desperately trying to avoid the fear and sadness that was surely going to cloud Brian's eyes. I stated matter-of-factly, "I'm positive."

"Angel, look at me."

I lifted my head and saw…saw…something I never thought I'd see. Brian's eyes were filled with tears he struggled to quell and something akin to madness.

Desperately trying to maintain control, he asked, "Why… why would you say that?"

"Hobbs was there. He said…said…"

Brian placed his hand on my neck to stem the panic that was slowly rising to the surface.

"Angel, whatever it is, we'll deal with it together, okay?"

I just looked down. He didn't know what he was saying. I took a deep breath to steady my voice and, then, repeated, "Hobbs said, 'I told you you'd get AIDS one day, Taylor. Now all that's left is for you to die.'"

I watched Brian, so afraid, turns out, for good reason. I think I actually saw something break inside him. He swallowed hard and, then, whispered, "I meant what I said. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it together. Nothing on this earth could make me love you less or make me want to leave your side."

He looked at me, frantic. "Nothing!"

I was unsure. Damaged was one thing, but diseased, that was something altogether different. Brian could see the doubt in my eyes.

"I need you to trust me, Angel. You do trust me, don't you?"

I did. But…

I answered firmly, "I do trust you. Completely."

He touched his forehead to mine and breathed, "Then, believe me when I tell you that I want to be with you. Under any circumstances. During our…our separation, I learned all too well that I need you in my life. I need you so much."

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "But we won't know anything for sure until your test results come back. When they do, if…if (his voice broke) you're sick, we'll fight it together."

I was too astonished to respond. Brian had told me that he loved me last night, but I was still getting used to the new closeness our dom/sub relationship had brought. I was astonished, but I believed him. I was starting to relax. If Brian needed me in his life, I would be there. If I were truly positive, I'd stay healthy for as long as I could manage it. I'd fight the disease with everything I had.

I looked at Brian, and, with trust, determination, and love evident in my voice (I hoped), I said, "I do believe you. We'll get through this together."

Brian's body relaxed visibly, but his eyes. His eyes were still wild. I was afraid of what he might do.

"Angel, I need you to tell me what else you remember, but first…"

Brian was actually stammering. I don't think I'd ever seen him this way. Not even after I left the hospital following the bashing. I was seriously starting to worry.

He sighed and continued, "The story broke today."

Puzzled, I asked, "The story? About what happened to me?"

He couldn't meet my eyes. He just nodded.

"So…I should go see everyone, at least, your mother and Deb. Daphne's here, so you won't be alone."

"Okay, go see everyone. Everyone. But ask them to come here."

Concerned, Brian asked, "Are you sure? You don't have to do this."

I stated firmly, "I know, but I want to, no, I need to."

Brian just nodded. "So, I'll be back soon. I have my cell phone. Call me if you want or need to talk while I'm gone."

I smiled. "Okay."

He kissed my forehead and whispered, "I love you, Angel."

I flashed him a million-watt smile and said, "I love you, too."

Brian's POV

I felt like I was going insane. Overwhelmed with sadness, fear, and rage like I've never experienced, I was lost. I decided to walk to Liberty Avenue because I couldn't sit still. I couldn't rely on my normal coping methods, drugs and anonymous sex, because Justin needed me. I couldn't track Ian and Hobbs down and beat them to death, which I wanted to do so badly…I wanted to…with a need greater than any I had ever experienced, save one, the need to protect Justin. So I couldn't. I needed to be here for him, not rotting in jail. My frustration was so acute and my fear so great that I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

I'd reached Liberty, and, seeing a dumpster, I remembered the hustler who'd been killed, which brought me right back to thoughts of Justin's rape and possible infection. I snapped. I started punching and kicking the dumpster. I punched so hard that my fists began to ache, but I couldn't stop. Not even if I wanted to. Suddenly, strong arms were pulling me away.

I tried to rip myself out of the unknown man's grasp, but he was too strong. He turned me to face him. It was Ben.

Softly, he said, "Brian…I read the article," but he still held me fast.

I shut my eyes, trying so hard to regain control over my emotions, but I couldn't. I felt helpless. I shook my head and let the tears fall, as I whispered, "You'd think that that was horror enough. But no. No. Apparently, Justin was destined to face every cruelty life has to offer."

I started shaking and sobbing.

Ben was stunned, but he responded quickly, pulling me to him and wrapping his arms around me tight. He rubbed my back. God, I had become a pathetic little faggot. If I could laugh, I would have had a nice long chuckle about this.

"Someone might have…might have infected Justin intentionally…"

Ben pulled me out of his arms, so he could look at me. "What?"

"One of Justin's assailants. Hobbs or someone he brought with him."

"Hobbs was responsible?"

"He and Ethan. I'm not sure who else…Twice already, I almost lost him. I need to be strong enough to help him now, but I...FUCK!"

I pushed back with force I didn't know I had, managing to free myself from Ben's grip. I wheeled to face an alley wall and growled, even as I cried, "The rage. I want to kill them both with my bare hands. Slowly. I want to watch them suffer and take the light from their eyes, the light they stole from Justin's. I've never wanted to kill anyone so much…not since…not since Jack."

Helplessly, I asked, "Where do I put all the rage?"

Ben squeezed my shoulder.

I shook his hand off and spun around to face him. Then I started pacing.

"I've never really known what to do with it. So I drank and took whatever drugs I could get my hands on. I mean, how do you ever reconcile yourself with the fact that a man three times as tall and ten times as heavy as his son would hurt him, someone he was supposed to protect? Someone he should have loved? Huh? How does anyone wrap their mind around that?"

Ben shook his head. "That isn't something any good person can understand, Brian."

I squatted down and whispered, "What do I do with the rage I feel? He took advantage of my helplessness and, then, mocked me, daring me to fight back and laughing at my attempts to do so. And God, Justin."

I was crying hard now.

"How could anyone ever want to hurt Justin? He's so beautiful, giving, trusting, loving…his light shines so bright…what kind of monster would want to dim that? Especially a person who once claimed to love him? What kind of monster would want to kill him?"

I was drowning. Drowning in a pool of rage that lay within me always, never shrinking, only growing. I stood up fast and started punching the brick wall in front of me. Ben pulled me back into his arms and held me as I sobbed.

He whispered, "You're strong. Stronger than most. You were strong enough to survive your father's abuse and help Justin after the bashing; you'll find strength enough within you to stand by his side now. There is no way to understand child abuse or rape, to dispel the associated rage. Love is the only answer. You love Justin. So channel that rage. Be whatever he needs."