Unexpectedly, Brian looked up and fixed Justin with an intense gaze. He asked, "Do you love him?"

Justin, exceedingly uncomfortable and surprised, replied, "What?"

Brian responded firmly, "The fiddler. Do you love him?"

Justin turned three shades of red and looked down. He stammered, "I…Why are you asking?"

Brian didn't move an inch or look away. He simply repeated, "Do you love him, Justin? The question shouldn't be difficult to answer. Especially with you being you. You either love him or you don't."

Justin stood up quickly and walked to the kitchen. His back turned away from Brian, he snapped, "You know God damned well that I don't!"

Suddenly, Brian could feel a presence near him. A chill. The ghost whispered, a little angrily, "You're stalling. Stop torturing the boy and tell him how you feel. If you don't, someone will be fucking him tonight, but it won't be you, and you may never reunite. Of all the people on this earth, he's the only one you can trust with anything, with everything. Holding back now is just plain stupid!" The ghost entered Brian's body, showing him the scene where Justin was fucking Sean. Brian saw himself standing there watching in agony. Then, the ghost moved away.

Angry at the ghost for making him feel vulnerable and scared and angry at himself for even mentioning the fiddler, Brian clenched his fists and cursed, "Fuck! That's not why I asked you to come."

Justin wheeled around but then hesitated. All his anger disappeared when he saw Brian. He looked so small all of a sudden. Justin asked softly, "Then why? I certainly didn't expect you to ask about my great-great-great uncle or to ask whether I love Ethan."

Brian stood up and approached Justin. Then, he took the boy's hand. He sat on the couch and pulled Justin down next to him.

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth and then said, his voice low, "I'm working up to it. Can you bear with me for a few minutes?"

Justin had felt a surge of electricity the moment Brian touched him, and Brian declaring that he was working up to saying something sent a chill down his spine. Then, even the air seemed to grow cold. He looked over at Brian, and, suddenly, bits and pieces of scenes flashed before his eyes, only he saw them as though he were a third party, as though he wasn't participating: Brian whispering "I love you" their first night together, Justin finding the bloody scarf around Brian's neck the night they made love for the first time after the bashing, Brian waiting for Justin to walk to him on Liberty Avenue, his arms outstretched. A small spark in his eyes, he wondered, "Dare I hope?" In a whisper so low Justin wasn't even sure he'd heard it, the ghost urged, "Yes. Dare to hope. The man clearly loves you."

Justin's eyes widened, and he looked around uneasily, searching for, but somehow knowing he would not, find the source. He wondered if those words had even been uttered. Maybe it was just an inner voice.

Then, scenes he couldn't remember ever seeing before flashed before his eyes: Brian walking into the hotel ballroom where Justin's prom was held, Brian and Justin dancing together in front of Justin's entire class, Brian gently touching the glass between the hall and Justin's hospital room as Brian gazed at Justin's comatose form.

Justin's eyes widened even more. He asked urgently, "Brian, did you come to the hospital to see me when I was in the coma? At night?"

Brian looked shocked. He even paled. He replied, "How did you know about that?"

Justin exclaimed, "It's true?"

Brian looked down, but nodded. In a whisper, he said, "Every night."

Justin shook his head. "But why? Why would you do that if you don't love me?"

Before he thought about it, Brian retorted, "I never said I didn't!" When he realized what he'd said, he closed his eyes and sighed.

Justin just gaped at the man.

Brian opened his eyes and, in an effort to change the subject, asked accusingly, "Why didn't you ever tell me that you bribed Kip?"

Justin looked as though he'd been struck. It was his turn to grow pale. He stuttered, "How, how, did you know about that?"

Brian replied, "Answer the question. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Justin looked down and shook his head. He stammered, "I…I didn't want you to worry about me, and I was afraid that you'd be unhappy if you knew that I'd helped. I didn't want you to know that I knew you needed help."

In a whisper, Brian exclaimed, "You really do love me, don't you?"

Justin looked up quickly and retorted, "I've loved you since the day we met, and I've told you countless times. How could you think I didn't?"

Brian shook his head, and, his voice lower even than a whisper, he answered, "No one has ever really meant it before."

Without warning, Brian pulled Justin to him, wrapping his arms around the boy. He rubbed his forehead gently against Justin's cheek and then declared softly, "Justin…I…I love you. I love you so fucking much…"

Justin started to tremble and felt as though he might faint.