"Do you think he's okay?" Emmett asked, coming down the stairs daintily after his little check up on their patient. "He's still pretending to be asleep."

"He's probably just a little shaken up," Deb dismissed. "I mean, getting let out of hospital for the first time in forever is a bit of an ordeal and then that cop slapped a fucking tagging bracelet on him like a fucking criminal. And he's probably hungry. Did you see the shit they fed him in that place? It was worse than prison food. You wait, once he's had a big healthy meal with all the family, he'll be much happier."

"All the family?" Ted repeated, looking up from his laptop for just a moment. "As in Michael?"

"Yes, as in Michael, my son. You got a fucking problem with that?"

"No," Ted said, turning back to his screen before muttering, "but Justin might."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Deb demanded her hands on her hips angrily as she stared at the smartest of her lost boys.

"Well, I'm not sure if I'd been bashed in the head by someone I'd want to sit across from them at the dinner table and exchange pleasantries about the current affairs."

"Teddy," Emmett gasped in shock. He'd never heard his friend be quite so blunt before.

"You don't know that that's what happened," Deb hissed through her teeth. "No one knows. Whatever happened to innocent until proving guilty?"

"It died with the Catholics and their original sin," Ted shot back. "And it also died the day Stockwell became Chief of Police. We have no idea how many men and women he's falsely convicted to save his own ass."

"I'm not worried about any of them," Deb seethed. "I just don't like the way you're talking about Michael without any proof. Now," she said, straightening her wig and flattening out her clothes, "I don't want to hear another word about it. This is going to be a happy occasion," she indicated the mountains of food she'd been preparing. "We're going to celebrate Justin leaving hospital and Michael's bringing home his new boyfriend."

"New boyfriend?" Ted asked in a way that suggested he really couldn't care less. Then, under his breath he muttered, "I wonder if he's in to baseball."

Emmett found himself becoming eternally grateful that Debbie had chosen that moment to start the garbage disposal and hadn't heard the comment because he felt sure that otherwise, Ted would be following the discarded food down the plughole.

Emmett decided maybe it would be worth just having a little word of warning with Ted before the guests of honour arrived, so he sat on the sofa and peered over his shoulder, a sure way to get some kind of reaction.

"What are you doing?" Ted asked, as he flicked from one web page of infinite boring writing to another.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Emmett smiled, as he tried to pick out just one word that would make him understand what Ted was searching for. Seeing the confused look on his friend's face, Ted decided to explain,

"It's a news story about Brian from today. It seems they've set the court date and released the charges to the press. I'm just checking details with every news crew that covered the story from Pittsburgh's OUT to big national stuff."

"Why?"

"Because each story is different and only the bits that appear consistently in each story is the truth."

Emmett just scrunched up his face, partly in boredom and partly in confusion. "So what 'truth' have you learnt Dick Tracy?" Emmett asked.

"Well, the court date is definitely two months from now. And the charges include numerous counts of theft, assaulting a police officer, kidnapping and," he looked at Emmett solemnly, "murder."

"They're still slapping Justin's murder on him?"

"Seems that way," Ted nodded glumly.

Emmett just looked at his friend and gulped. He missed the times when he used to use a hair pin to break into a house and it would all be over in one night. He missed the nights they'd go out to Babylon and just act like normal fags for a few hours. He missed his life before this, before Justin. He didn't blame the kid; it was just that he had been the start of a series of unbelievable and unfortunate events that had led them to be twisted up in murders and corruptions.

For the first time since he'd turned to this life, he didn't feel safe. Brian was behind bars after Michael had seemingly betrayed him. He felt like he didn't know who to trust, who was on what side. He wasn't even sure if he was on the bad side anymore. He was beginning to feel like his black and white view of the world was turning grey and it was becoming more and more difficult to work out who was safe, who was out to get him.

"It's okay, Em," Ted reassured him, as though he could read his friend's thoughts, or perhaps just his expression. "It'll work out."

"Yeah," Emmett nodded, giving his friend a watery smile. "You're right. Of course you're right."

::

Debbie was just finishing laying the table when the doorbell alerted them to the arrival of their guests.

"Emmett, honey," she called, as she tied tiny rainbow ribbons around the cutlery, "can you get that?"

"Er, sure Deb," he replied, pushing himself up off the sofa, where Ted had been letting him watch 'Some Like it Hot' from Deb's Gay Film Collection to cheer him up a little; it hadn't really been working.

He walked over to the door, took a deep breath and put on his best hostess face. When he was satisfied with his mask he unlocked the door and yanked it open.

"Michael," he grinned at the shorter man, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. "What a wonderful surprise, you're mom's been telling us how well you've been doing since you got out. Still phoning three times a day, I see, even if you never drop in." He winked at him to hide the anger he felt that Michael hadn't come to see them once since he'd been let out of prison six weeks ago. "And this must be…" Emmett turned his attention to the muscle-bound man stood at his friend's side, "my, my," he smiled, fluttering his eyelashes flirtily, "this must be the famous professor. I've heard all about you." And then as an explanation, he added, "Michael tells Debbie who tells me about you … all the time." Michael blushed embarrassedly and Emmett just smiled. Well, the man could squirm, it was the very least he deserved.

"Ben Bruckner," the professor held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Well, aren't you just every girl's dream," Emmett chuckled a little. "I'm Emmett," he explained, taking the man's hand and holding it just a little too long for Michael's comfort.

"Okay," Michael frowned, pushing his way through the greeting. "That's enough. Put your eyes back in your head Em, he's mine."

"You don't want to mess with what's Michael's," Ted grumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear, "you never know what he'll do."

Emmett glared at his bitter friend but Michael just looked confused. Emmett thought he looked quite sweet really, innocent and he suddenly realized there was no way Michael could have done the things Ted was suggesting. He was too nice. He doubted that Michael would even be able to turn Brian in. Maybe the police had blackmailed him, or taken him along to the arrest to get to Brian but surely Michael, his good friend Mikey, wouldn't have turned Brian in and certainly wouldn't have hurt Justin.

"Well, come on in," he said, waving Ben in quickly and watching him walk to the kitchen only to be immediately cornered by Debbie. She was like a spider approaching a fly, a big fly, with muscles and perfect arms and body and…

"Will you stop drooling?" Michael laughed in Emmett's ear.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've seen a gorgeous gay man?"

"Present company excluded, of course," Ted scowled, refusing to get up off the couch and greet Michael.

"Of course," Emmett said brightly but Ted knew it was a lie and scowled further.

"How long has it been since you've seen a good looking gay man, Em?" Michael asked, regaining the taller man's attention.

"Too long. Way too long." Emmett sighed. "And then in you come with this beautiful lump of man meat and tell me I'm not even aloud to look."

"Fine," Michael conceded light-heartedly, "you can look but no touching. I really wanna make things work with this guy."

Emmett looked at his friend's dreamy expression and lowered his voice to barely a whisper.

"Erm, honey. Does he know about your, er, alternative lifestyle?"

"I told him," Michael said firmly. "First thing I said. Well after, 'wow you're hot'."

"And he didn't…" Emmett trailed off not wanting to upset his friend.

"Care?" Michael finished. "He cared a little, I think," he answered honestly, "but he said that the past is in the past and that we have to live in the now. I told him I've given up the lifestyle, which I have, one short stint in prison is enough for me, and he said that he was willing to give me a chance."

"Wow," Emmett whistled, gazing in the direction of the hunky professor. "He really is perfect."

"I know," Michael beamed, then looking over to where his mother was still cornering Ben he said, "I actually better go save him before my mom scares him too much."

Emmett watched as Michael practically skipped across the room towards Mr. Perfect and sighed heavily. It was so unfair. Some guys just had all the luck. He slumped miserably onto the sofa next to Ted, who was still purposely ignoring everything around him in favour of following Brian's story on the internet.

"Ben's hot, isn't he?" Emmett said, nudging the older man a little with his elbow trying to get some kind of conversation out of him.

"Mm-hmm, hot," Ted agreed flatly, not looking up from the screen.

"And smart," Emmett added, refusing to be fobbed off.

"College professors usually are," Ted replied in exactly the same tone. "But I know I sure as hell wouldn't want to go to bed with a backstabber with a fetish for baseball."

Emmett sighed heavily. "Teddy, I think you've gone a bit crazy with this. There's no way Michael would do that. Look at him," he grabbed Ted's head and forced him to watch as Michael laughed at something his mother had said, while patting Ben on the chest like a proud housewife. "Does that look like a bat wielding psychopath to you?"

"Yes," Ted answered bluntly. "And let go of my head," he groaned, slapping Emmett's hands away.

Emmett was quiet for a moment and the only thing that broke the silence between them was the jovial laughter from the kitchen and the tip-tapping of the laptop keys as Ted typed frantically.

"Teddy," Emmett said eventually, his voice very low and very serious. "Do you really think Michael did what you say he did?"

Ted stopped typing immediately, his fingers falling limp against the keyboard. He looked up at his friend's fearful eyes and sighed heavily. "I don't know," he said honestly. "All the clues point to Michael but I guess it could have been the police. I mean, I know they wanted him dead and who's to say they wouldn't have taken the action into their own hands but," he paused, ran his face through his thin hair and said quietly. "I think the police would have made sure he was dead. They wouldn't have left it to chance."

"But Horvath said if he hadn't got Justin to hospital when he did that he'd have died. Maybe the police thought they'd done enough."

"I don't know," Ted shrugged a little. "There's only two people who know for sure what happened and one of them is in prison and the other can't remember."

Emmett looked to the stairs thinking of Justin, lying in the bedroom that used to be Brian's pretending to be asleep just so he could avoid them for a few hours. "Do you think he'll ever remember?"

"Maybe. Memory's a complicated thing but you never lose a memory completely. It's always in your brain, you just need to find some kind of trigger to remember it, like something from the event."

Emmett thought for a second and then said, "like waving a baseball bat in front of his face?"

"Exactly." Then Ted sat up a little and said, "actually, that probably would work."

"Don't you dare!"

Ted couldn't help smile a little at that. "I won't but maybe in two months time, when Brian's being sent down for murder. I might give it a go."

Emmett was just about to reply when Debbie's voice cut through every conversation.

"Dinner is served," she beamed. "Emmett, honey, could you run up and bring Sunshine downstairs? I'm sure he's feeling hungry by now."

"Sunshine?" Michael questioned immediately, looking more than a little concerned as the queen disappeared up the staircase. "He's here?"

"Of course he's here," Debbie chuckled happily, pulling out a seat next to Ben and pushing her son into it. "He's family."

"Er, who's Sunshine?" Ben asked.

"It's what I call Justin," Debbie explained.

"Justin?" Ben frowned. He was clearly completely confused by now. "The kid you guys kidnapped?"

"Not us," Michael clarified quickly, clinging to Ben's hand almost desperately as he willed the man to believe him. "Brian. That's why they let me go, because Brian told them it was just him. I'm innocent."

"But I thought he was found in a dumpster," Ben said slowly. The look on his face was similar to that of a man trying to piece bits of all different jigsaws together in order to create a picture.

"That wasn't him," Deb said, putting a plate of food in front of Ben and then Michael. "It's all very complicated. We'll explain it when Sunshine comes down."

"You know," Ben said suddenly. "There was a kid in one of my classes, Hunter, he used to say that Justin wasn't the one in the dumpster too. He'd swear blind it was some kid he used to know but you told me it was Justin," Ben said pointedly to Michael. "You said that that Brian Kinney guy had killed him."

"I thought he was dead," Michael insisted truthfully.

"Why the hell would you think that?" Ted asked suddenly from his place on the couch. He closed the lid of his computer and studied the squirming figure of Michael carefully. "You knew he wasn't the boy the police found in the dumpster, so what would make you think that he was dead?"

"I, er," Michael stammered. "Erm, er … just that, when they found Brian, the cops didn't mention Justin."

"So you assumed he'd died?"

"That or ran away I guess," Michael nodded, squirming under this interrogation.

"Wait, so Justin Taylor really wasn't the boy in the dumpster," Ben asked. He was totally confused now, feeling like a million steps behind with most of the track missing.

"Of course I wasn't in the dumpster," Justin voice rang through the conversation. "I'm right here, aren't I?"

Everyone turned to look at him. He looked a little less pale than he had before but he still had dark rings under his eyes and seemed a little worse for wear. Emmett had a hand on his shoulder for support but he was smiling at them all. Or at least he was smiling, until his eyes fell on Michael. And then something happened.

Emmett felt the kid go weak and wobbly under his hand. He almost didn't reach out to catch him in time but he just managed to pull him into a hug before Justin collapsed completely to the floor. Emmett could feel him shaking furiously and twitching a little bit in his arms as he struggled to keep him upright.

Justin felt like his head was going to explode as image after faded image began to get brighter and brighter. He heard a door slam open and remembered seeing Michael standing at the door, a bat in his hand and then Brian had whispered that … shit. Brian had told him he loved him and then….

"YOU!" he yelled, pushing Emmett away roughly and turning to confront Michael. "It was you! You were the one who bashed me and all because… Shit. Brian said that he…." Justin blinked as tears began to flood his eyes. He didn't know what to do. He felt like a flood gate had been opened and now he was just trying to say as many things as he could remember at once. "You tried to kill him," he hissed furiously. "You took the cops right to him. You were so fucking proud." He was spitting each word like poison and everyone was stunned into silence, watching him as he stood, red faced and panting in the middle of the room pointing furiously at Michael. "Come on kid," he quoted Michael's speech, tears streaming down his face as he remembered the way Michael had stood in that doorway to the attic. He remembered how Brian had stood so resigned to his fate. "You know how it is when you're the least wanted member of the gang." He could barely get the words past his teeth. He could barely unclench his jaw enough to speak but he forced on. He wanted the truth to be known. "They'll make you a deal, offer to clear your criminal record of everything you've done since you were fourteen in exchange for a few hundred hours of community service and," he rubbed a hand over his face, drying the tears from his cheeks only for them to be replaced immediately by new ones, "the location of the main man," he finished. Then he collapsed and Emmett caught him and lowered him gently to the floor as he sobbed painfully, gasping for breath as grief shook his body.

He was vaguely aware of holding him and offering him some kind of comfort. He heard the scraping of chairs and a voice's saying;

"I can't do this."

"Wait!"

"I'm sorry Michael. I could see beyond your past but this isn't the past, this is right now and I … I can't be mixed up in this."

"But I love you!"

And then there was a bit of a scuffle. He felt Emmett leave his side and he looked up. Through his tear-blurred eyes, he could just make out the sight of Ted and Emmett restraining Michael and pushing him into a chair. Emmett pulled out a gun and trained it right between the shorter man's eyes. Debbie disappeared running after Ben, whilst Justin just sat on the floor hugging his knees tight to his chest and thinking about what was possibly the worst part about his new found memory. Now, he knew where Brian was … he was in prison.

::

They were completely silent. The ticking clock in the belly of a ceramic cat on the mantelpiece was the only thing making any noise. It was a stalemate. No one knew what was for the best.

"Would you like some more cocoa, Sunshine?" Debbie asked but the kid just shook his head. He hadn't finished the last one; rather just let it go slowly cold in the mug in his hands. He hadn't spoken since his memory had returned. He'd just sat in the armchair that Debbie had helped him into and stared into middle distance wondering what was going to happen now. Horvath had been called almost immediately and he'd probably be there any second but Debbie had already warned Justin about naming her son.

"Don't forget," she warned carefully for about the millionth time, "don't mention Michael's name. We don't double cross family like that."

Justin just scowled a little. He couldn't be bothered to point out how utterly hypocritical that statement was. Emmett and Ted clearly agreed with him because they were still watching Michael very closely and Emmett was still pointing his gun at him.

"Could you put that down?" Deb said eventually. "You're making me nervous."

"Well, it makes me nervous being in a room with a backstabbing baseball-ing bastard," Emmett replied stonily, his eyes flicking to Debbie for a moment, "but I'm dealing with it."

Justin couldn't stand this tension. It was so thick, he felt like it was choking him. He'd never seen Emmett so serious and he'd never seen Ted so angry. Debbie was trying to make out it wasn't that big a deal but it clearly was. Whoever said there was no honour among thieves had been right but that didn't mean that honour wasn't expected and that dishonour wasn't punished. He couldn't bare it so he just kept fiddling with his bracelet,turning it around his ankle slowly. He knew he was rubbing the skin raw underneath but he didn't care. He didn't care about much right now.

It seemed to be forever before the doorbell rang to announce Horvath's arrival. Debbie looked around the room at the four men, who stayed sitting perfectly still as though no noise had been made.

"I'll get it then, shall I?" she muttered, pushing herself to her feet. "And Emmett, get rid of that fucking gun. This guy's a cop."

Reluctantly, Emmett put the weapon away just as Debbie swung the door open.

"Detective Horvath," she smiled. "Welcome to our humble home."

"Is she kidding?" Ted muttered to Emmett. "She's actually pretending that nothing's changed."

"My aunt Lula used to say, a mother's love knows no bounds," Emmett shrugged.

"Not even this," Ted asked incredulously.

Emmett just shrugged and hushed Ted quickly as Horvath entered the room a little further. "Evening detective," he said politely.

"Emmett, Ted," Horvath nodded to both of them. "And this must be Michael."

"Hello," Michael said. Or at least tried to say. It actually came out more like a choked whisper and Horvath frowned.

"Everyone seems so nervous and on edge," he said, sitting in the chair Debbie had just vacated so he could be next to Justin. "I'm assuming you didn't remember anything good," he sighed.

Justin looked up slowly, his eyes fixing on Horvath's. "I remember everything," he said sternly.

"You know who bashed you?"

Justin looked at the floor, pursed his lips and nodded softly.

"Was it a cop?"

Justin just shook his head.

"I see," the cop nodded thoughtfully. "Can you tell me who it was?"

Justin shook his head again, his eyes still fixed on the floor.

"Well, in that case there's only one thing to do." Horvath got slowly to his feet and turned to face Michael.

"Michael Novotny, I'm arresting you on suspicion of aggravated assault."

"What?" Debbie cried.

"You have the right to remain silent, should you, however, refuse this right anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"You can't do this!"

"You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you by the court. Do you understand what I have just said to you?"

Michael nodded glumly.

"Wait!" Debbie cried. "You can't arrest him. He wasn't even there!"

"Oh, he was there," Horvath corrected. "I've been trawling through the footage of Kinney's arrest and there's a lovely shot near the end of your son chatting to a cop."

"That doesn't mean he did it. It could have been Brian," she suggested desperately.

"Brian would never have done that!" Justin yelled for the first time since he'd made his vague, practically wordless, statement. Everyone looked at him but he just stared angrily at Deb. He couldn't even look at Michael. He didn't even like having to breathe the same air as him, in fact, the fact that Michael was breathing at all was kind of pissing him off at the moment.

Horvath noted the expression on the kid's face and turned calmly to Debbie and said, "with all due respect, Mrs. Novotny, I saw Kinney when he was arrested. And there was no way in hell he would do anything to hurt this kid. So Taylor, was it Michael?"

Justin stayed silent. He'd made a promise to Deb not to say her son's name and he intended to keep it despite her trying to blame Brian, despite the fact her son nearly killed him. Justin Taylor intended to be a man of his word.

"Fine. Don't say anything," Carl sighed. "I know it was you," he added yanking Michael to his feet. "You're coming with me."

"Where are you taking him?" Deb cried.

"The holding cell at the headquarters in Harrisburg," Horvath informed her as he began to push her son towards the front door.

"What about Brian?" Justin asked suddenly. "Now that you know it isn't him, can't you let him go?"

"His arrest had nothing to do with me," Horvath shrugged. "Sorry kid." And with that he was gone, pushing Michael along with him.

::

Debbie went to bed early that evening. The day had been way too much for her to bear. First she'd discovered her son had not only sold out to the police but also tried to bash another person's brains in, then, she'd had to watch him be arrested. It had all been too much. Now, she just wanted a Xanax and a decent nights' sleep.

"Well," Emmett sighed, once Debbie was up the stairs, "I guess you were right Teddy. Michael really did do everything you thought he had."

"It's one of those rare times when being right doesn't feel good," he replied morosely.

"I know," Emmett agreed quietly. Then he looked up to the other man in the room.

Justin was still huddled on the arm chair, barely moving, hardly speaking.

"How are you holding up, Justin?"

Justin looked up suddenly as though he was surprised to see other people in the room but he quickly smoothed out his expression, gave a weak smile and said, "I'm okay."

"Good," Emmett nodded. "That's good." They were quiet again, all thinking carefully about where this put them now. Everything just seemed more and more complicated. There were stuck in a maze with no escape and they all felt claustrophobic.

"So," Emmett began again after the silence got too much for him, "Teddy, what's our next plan of action? We've got Justin alive we've returned his memory to him. What's our next mission?"

"You're not Miss. Marple," Ted scorned. "And I'm not Sherlock Holmes. I work out how to commit crimes not solve them … especially crimes as complicated as this."

"So you're giving up?" Justin asked quietly. "You're just going to let Brian rot in prison for a crime he didn't commit, while someone literally gets away with murder. I thought you were supposed to be his friends."

"We are," Emmett insisted. "Come on Teddy, there must be something we can do."

"Well," he said slowly. "There was something Ben said earlier, when you two were upstairs."

"What? What was it?" Emmett asked excitedly.

"Just that a student of his, Hunter, I think he said his name was, reckoned he knew the kid they found in the dumpster."

"Oh my god," Emmett beamed. "Well, this is wonderful! We'll find him and ask him what he knows. We'll tell Horvath and get him to take a statement convict Stockwell and whoever is leading all this corruption and then Brian will be set free. Right Teddy?"

The older man looked more than a little sceptical. "Right, Teddy?" Emmett repeated more angrily.

"Er, sure," Ted nodded. "It's just, we don't know anything about this kid. We don't know where he lives or how to find him. We don't even know if he actually did know this Jason Kemp kid."

"But it's worth a try, isn't it?" Justin asked. "It has to be worth a try."

"Kinney," a prison warden said banging on the door to his cell with a baton. "Visitor."

"You're shitting me," Jayden's voice came from the bunk above. "He never gets any visitors. He never gets any letters, just the occasional lasagne from some mother of a friend."

"Well, he's got a visitor now," the guard said firmly. "Come on Kinney, you lazy son of a bitch, get moving."

"Some people are in bad moods today," Brian commented sarcastically as he unfolding his long limbs and stood up in the middle of the room.

"Move," the guard snapped and Brian just followed silently.

::

Brian walked along past the glassed off bank-desk-looking cubicles being taken up by deranged wives and girlfriends, past friends and lawyers until he spotted someone he recognized. She was smiling sadly at him, her hair was wild and all over the place and her bright colours were a dazzling reminder of the world beyond the bleak grey prison. He sat down at the chair behind the window and lifted the phone and she did the same.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing. I was hoping you'd be out by now," she hinted heavily.

"Yeah, they searched the tuna casserole Deb," he smirked. "They found the nail file."

"Shit," Debbie groaned, looking genuinely annoyed and shocked that the plan hadn't worked.

"And anyway, it would have taken me years to escape with a fucking file."

"Haven't you seen Shawshank Redemption?" Debbie demanded. "Would it have killed you to be a little bit imaginative?"

Brian laughed a little through his nose, though he didn't really feel like laughing. "You look like shit," he said.

"I could say the same to you."

"Prison overall orange isn't exactly my colour," he shrugged.

"Hmm," she nodded sadly. "You doing okay in there?"

"I keep my head down," Brian said honestly. "Stay in my cell mostly. It doesn't help that every fucker in the place knows I'm a fag."

"They giving you any trouble, kiddo."

"No," he smirked a little, "they also think I'm a murderer."

"Ah," she smiled a little and fell quiet for a second before adding. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm surviving," Brian corrected. He paused for a moment. Things were fucking awkward and that was putting it mildly. "So," he said eventually, "what are you doing here? I don't hear anything from you for six weeks and then suddenly you drop in for a visit."

"I told you, I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Bullshit," Brian snapped back immediately. "You've always got an ulterior motive. What's happened?"

She stayed quiet for a moment, just searching the other man's face for something but what, she wasn't quite sure. "It's Michael," she sighed.

"I don't wanna know," Brian said immediately.

"I know you're angry," Debbie said, trying to remain calm. "That's why I'm here … to apologize, for my son."

"Don't bother," he snapped. "No apologies, no regrets. Besides, it's not your fault he doesn't know anything about loyalty." Brian seethed. He was so angry he could barely hold the phone steady. He felt like smashing it through the glass and making a run for it. He'd go to Michael and shoot him right between the fucking eyes and he wouldn't even regret it. He wouldn't care if he spent the rest of his life behind bars but he wanted Michael to pay for what he'd done to Justin.

"He's been arrested a couple of days ago in conjunction with Justin's injuries."

"Good."

"He's sorry," Debbie whispered but Brian didn't care.

"He's a backstabbing, murdering, fuck head."

"Brian!" Debbie scolded. "I will not have you speak about Michael like that."

"No," Brian glared at her through the glass. "Don't let anyone speak ill of poor little Mikey. It's not his fault he double crossed his best friend. It's not his fault he killed Justin. He was just poor misguided fool. Fuck you, Deb! If you don't want to see Michael for what he really is that's fine but don't try and get me to look at him through your eyes."

Debbie glared through the glass at the man ahead of her. She'd never seen Brian Kinney look quite so out of control. She was used to him being the perfect picture of calm no matter what the situation. She was used to him showing no emotion but he was making up for it now, shaking with the anger that was consuming him.

"I know what happened that night in the attic," she said as purposefully and calmly as she could. "But just for your information, he didn't kill Sunshine. The kid's still alive."

With that Debbie hung up the phone and stormed away and Brian was just left to watch her go.

He felt strange, sort of sick and sort of like crying and a little bit like giving everyone he came across a hug. Justin wasn't dead. He was alive. He'd survived the bash to the head and someone must have found him on the floor in the attic and taken him to a hospital. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, like maybe there was something worth fighting for on the outside. Maybe it wasn't all a lost cause. Now he had something to cling on to, now he had hope.

"You're in a good mood," Jayden commented as Brian returned to the cell with a smile plastered straight across his face.

"Someone's been resurrected," he smirked.