Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Brielle.
Rated: M (Mature)
Warning(s): Slash, Het, Strippers, Exotic Dancing, etc.

It was late in the afternoon. Phil must've been out for several hours, but he couldn't know for sure. He didn't take his watch with him. Now, he realized that that was a mistake. Phil ran a hand over his face and let defeat soak into his bones. What could he do? What could he do to make Jeff better? He wanted to be there for him, he really did. He just didn't understand how he could do that if Jeff continued to shoot him down at every turn.

Phil shook his head. He wondered if Jeff knew who it was that had attacked him, or maybe if it was someone that he had never met before. The defeat that he felt morphed into frustration, and then the frustration twisted into a sick pit of despair in the bottom of his stomach. It was time to head back home. Phil wasn't under any illusion that he could walk away from Jeff after all of this. And, to be totally honest, he didn't want to.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned around, ready to walk back to their house. It wasn't 'his' house anymore. Really, he hadn't considered it 'his' since Jeff had come into his life. It was their shelter, their refuge. Phil had left him there alone with all of the faith in the world in their security system. He knew that nobody would dare to hurt his boyfriend in their own home. And if they tried, well… Phil would have to take matters into his own hands.

Phil's phone buzzed in his front pocket. He frowned and pulled it out. It was a text from Mike, his co-worker at the model company. Dude, where are you? Jeff is really worried. It's like whisper down the lane here.

For a moment, Phil wondered how Mike had found out that Jeff was worried about him, but then he brushed it off. I just needed a breath of fresh air. I'm actually on my way back home now.

A few seconds later, the text came back. Good. Johnny told me what happened to him. You need to be there for him, even if he thinks that he doesn't want you. He does need you, Phil.

Phil didn't answer that text. He slid the phone back into his pocket and started the short walk back to the house that he shared with his boyfriend. When he arrived at the little house on the corner, he unlocked the front door and entered inside. He found Jeff on the floor, curled into a small ball in the corner. Jeff had dried tear tracts on his face and he looked terribly nervous. It didn't suit him at all.

However, when Jeff heard the door open, his head snapped back and he studied Phil with wide eyes. From the look on his face, Phil knew that Jeff hadn't anticipated that he would come back home. Phil just shook his head and took off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack beside the door. And then he walked back over and stood before Jeff. For a moment, an uncomfortable silence fell over them.

"You left, Phil. I didn't think that you would come back." Jeff whispered. It sounded so odd for him to be so unsure of himself, but it had been like that ever since the attack.

"I always intended to come back. Like I said, I just needed a breath of fresh air." Phil said slowly. He tried to look anywhere but at Jeff's face. "Look, I'll make dinner. If you don't want it, I'll just put it in the fridge."

Jeff nodded, still silent. But then, he said, "Is this how it's going to be from now on? Are we going to be like this from now on?" Jeff sounded scared, but Phil refused to believe that that was true.

"I can only help you as much as you'll let me. The rest is on you." Phil said distractedly.

"Do you even care?" Jeff mumbled underneath his breath. Phil wasn't meant to hear, but he did.

Phil's eyes widened with shock, but then they narrowed. "How dare you think that I don't care? I fucking love you, Jeff. How dare you even say that?"

The uncomfortable silence returned. However, this time, the tension between the two men could be cut with a knife. When Phil realized that Jeff wasn't about to say anything else, he shook his head, defeated, and stalked off. A few seconds later, the door to the bedroom that they used to share slammed closed. Jeff frowned and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Would life ever return to normal?

"How dare you think that you can come in here after you almost took my husband from me and think that you can lecture me about Adam! You must have a lot of nerve, asshole." Hunter sneered at Chris.

Chris shook his head. "No, you don't understand. Why did I think that you would ever understand?" Chris leaned back into his chair and tipped his head back. "This isn't about Adam. Not really. This is about Brielle."

"Why would you ever drag that poor, innocent child into this mess?" Hunter asked. He wanted to hit Chris. Hard.

"She's my daughter. And, to make it worse, she's sick." Chris explained sadly.

Hunter frowned. "I already know the entire story, Chris. You don't have to tell it to me again. And I'm sorry that Brielle is sick, but that's none of your business. You walked out on them and you let her get this sick."

"That is so, so cruel. Why would you say something like that?" Chris asked him. He seemed to be incredibly insulted by those words. "Brielle is my baby. She's the only child that I have."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "That's shocking…"

Slowly, Chris rose to his feet and stalked around the bed where Hunter lay. Hunter shifted uncomfortably. He still had awhile before he would fully heal, so every movement that he made sent shockwaves of pain over his entire body. Hunter was sure that he actually pulled his stitches, because a red blossom appeared on his bandage and started to soak in until it would have fallen off.

Hunter tried to move away from Chris, but the pain that flared in his arm prevented that movement. Chris smirked down at him and put a hand on his bloody shoulder, pressing down just enough to cause Hunter's eyes to haze over with pain. With his other hand, he pinched the IV that had a morphine drip in it and cut off the flow of medication to Hunter's bloodstream. Hunter had no choice but the stare at him in terror.

"I will have my daughter. I will have Adam. And if you or your precious husband try to stand in my way, this little gunshot wound…" Chris pressed down hard. Hunter screamed. Chris smirked. "Well, it will be the least of your worries."