Secrets Will Fade

Chapter 1

Trouble In Paradise.

Justin screamed out in pain one last time as it finally ended. He looked around, struggling to remember where he was. Reaching for his cell; struggling because his hands were covered in blood, but it didn't matter.

He needs Brian…

Just Brian.

Pressing two on his speed dial he struggled to keep his breath under control as he tried to overcome the panic and pain he was beginning to feel.

"Hello." Brian's voice faintly on the other end.

"Brian, I need…I need you," He gasped in pain, his coughing filling the phone line. "Please…hel...help me, I need you," he begged over and over. He was unable to form much in the way of words as the pain set in and the adrenaline left his body.

"Justin! JUSTIN, WHAT'S WRONG?" Brian cried out over the line.

"Help me, please, I need you," he whispered in pain, his vision became blurred, and he was no longer able to keep a grip on his phone. With one final plea the line went quiet, Justin having lost consciousness.

"JUSTIN! JUSTIN!" Brian shouted into the phone, as he grabbed his laptop and shoved it into his bag.

The files could wait.

He grabbed his keys and sprinted from his office to the parking area.

Even though he could hear Justin breathing, he refused to hang up and was a little relieved to hear sirens in the background.

Listening intently, he could tell Justin was no longer alone by the new wave of voices over the line. And suddenly there was a shift in the phone followed by a new voice, "Hello?"

The voice was female.

"Is Justin alright, he stopped answering me?" Brian hissed into the phone panic coursing through him as he yanked his car door open and threw his bag inside before following it in.

"Is he breathing? What happened?" He asked rapid fire as he started the engine and practically gunned it from his parking spot.

"I don't know, Sir, I'm one of the paramedics, we just got here and we're checking on him now," the woman informed him.

"WELL, KEEP HIM ALIVE, DAMN IT!" he shouted in panic at her as tears slid down his cheeks for the first time since the day he had let Justin go to New York.

"I'm sorry... Just...I'm heading to the airport. Which hospital are you taking him to?" he asked as he took a steadying breath.

"JFK Memorial," was the terse reply.

Brian hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat as he moved through traffic to get to his loft.

Once there he grabbed the keys and ran inside the building and up the steps three at a time, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

Having reached his door, Brian flung it open ran straight to his bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag and throwing some clothes into it.

He would NOT leave Justin alone this time. No, this time he would do anything to keep Justin alive, safe and with him.

Brian screamed out in frustration; it was like him getting hit in the head all over again. Brian sat down and cried for a moment, needing to get it out of his system before he left. He didn't need Justin seeing him break down like this.

Shaking his head, Brian grabbed the bag, his toiletries, POA documents and his keys once more. Rushing out of the loft, he barely remembered to lock it before running down the stairs and straight to his car. Throwing everything in the narrow, back seat, he drove for the airport.

Grabbing his cell from where he threw it earlier, he hurriedly called Michael.

"Hey," he said as soon as Michael answered the phone; he was angry and extremely worried about Justin and had no time for pleasantries. "I'm heading to New York; Justin's hurt and he needs me."

Michael frowned at the odd tone in his friend's voice. "What do you mean, hurt? Is he ok? What's going on?"

"Michael, shut up! Listen to me! I don't fucking know – I'm not there yet!" Brian snapped at him as he shook his head. "I need you to go to my house in West Virginia and clean it up and get it ready for me and Justin, because I'm not letting him stay in New York! He's coming home and this time; I am NOT going to lose him," Brian vowed.

"Yeah, yeah, I understand," Michael assured him. "You got it. I'll get the others to help, too," he said before hanging up the phone to tell Ben and Hunter what had happened so that they could go over to Britin to get things rolling.

Brian rushed into the airport with his bags and cell and bought a ticket on the first plane leaving for New York.

As he sat down and waited for his flight to be called, he closed his eyes and groaned. This was not supposed to happen. Justin wasn't supposed to get hurt.

He was supposed to be safe and paint and live his dream.

What the fuck happened to change that?

Thankfully he didn't have to wait long for boarding for his flight to be called.

Hearing the voice over the P.A. he stood up from his seat and nearly ran for his gate.

Pushing his ticket into the woman's hand, he waited impatiently for her to give it back before he hurried down the access ramp to the plane, his bag haphazardly slung over his shoulder.

Finding his seat, Brian sat and waited – and fidgeted.

He wanted to be with Justin as fast as possible and this time he would not wait outside his hospital room, too scared to enter. No, this time he would stand by Justin's bedside, holding his hand and telling him that everything was going to be alright, and nothing could touch him now. Even if he couldn't keep that promise, he'd damn well try.

Brian closed his eyes and waited for the plane to take off.

When the plane finally landed thirty minutes later, he sighed and grabbed up his bag waiting with barely concealed impatience to disembark before running out the exit doors to hail a cab.

He didn't bother getting a hotel room; he just went straight to the hospital. He could worry about that later. Right now he needed to get to Justin.

Once at the hospital he stumbled from the cab- after paying the harried looking driver and rushed inside all the way up to the front desk as a tired-looking woman peered up at him curiously.

"Justin Taylor!" he yelled as the words poured out of his mouth. "Where is he? Is he ok? Please tell me; my partner, is he okay?

She eyed him with slight disdain. "Are you on his next of kin list? I can't tell you unless you are," she advised him.

Brian huffed out an angry breath; did this woman only have two speeds of efficiency? Slow and super slow? "Yes, yes," he told her hurriedly. "The name's Brian Kinney."

She seemed to take an excruciatingly long period of time peering at her computer records before she finally advised, "Ah, yes, I see it," as she pulled his name up on Justin's file. "You are listed."

"Well?" he snapped, looking at her like she was stupid.

"He just got out of surgery and is in recovery," she told him to his relief. "His room is on the second floor, room 202."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Brian ran toward the elevator and slammed his palm impatiently against the elevator button.

Finally, it opened, and he rushed inside and smacked the second-floor button several times as if that would make it go faster, bouncing impatiently as the doors closed and the car began to ascend.

He found himself nervous as hell as he wondered what had happened and if Justin was okay.

He closed his eyes tightly as soon as the doors slid open, before he ran to the room that was Justin's and entered, where he finally got a look at the familiar but lifeless form lying on the bed in the private room.

"Justin," he whispered, pain burning through his chest as he stared at the love of his life. "My God, what happened to you?" He moved to Justin's side, dropping his bags on the floor and dragging a chair over to be close. He then reached over to take Justin's hand in his own.

"Don't you dare leave me, you little shit," he hissed softly before he leaned over and kissed his forehead, "I fucking need you," he whispered in his ear as he laid his head down on the one arm that wasn't in a cast and finally let himself relax a little.

Then, closing his eyes, Brian did something then that he thought he would never do – he prayed. Prayed to whoever was listening for Justin to pull through.

If Justin died, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He loved Justin too much, and they had come too close before to this same situation.

A couple minutes later a Doctor and Nurse came in the room and gave Brian the rundown. It was clear that Justin had been attacked and quite brutally but there was something else.

He had been sexually assaulted, they had retrieved enough DNA and other evidence that if Brian or Justin wanted to press charges they could and they would likely stick with the overwhelming evidence.

The Nurse administered Justin more meds intravenously before she and the doctor left the room. Once they had, Brian sat back down and reached out to gently stroke over several bruises that were starting to stand out drastically on Justin's face.

"Justin, please, babe, wake up," he begged in a whisper as he slowly fell asleep holding Justin's hand.