Leaving On A Jet Plane, Pt. 10
Title: Leaving On A Jet Plane
Author: Indigo556
Chapter: 10/12 (completed)
Warnings: Includes self-harm related issues.
Time Frame: First six months post 513 (some time jumps between chapters!)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, or songs referenced herein and am not profiting from this (except that I meet nice people online!) :)
Summary: How will Brian cope post 513 and what will Justin do when he finds out?
***Please note this chapter was added and was not in a version of this story posted on another website. Also note that this is a graphic chapter; proceed wisely. :)
Chapter Ten: Save My Soul Tonight
(Includes Lyrics from If I Had It All, by the Dave Matthews Band, and Nobody's Fault But Mine, by Led Zeppelin)
Chapter Nine: Save My Soul Tonight
-------------Justin’s Point of View-----------------
If I were a king
I had everything,
Piece by piece
If I had you
I could give you your dreams…
I really need to understand this. Really, really understand it, totally and completely. What does it mean to him when I am not here?
I look over at him. He says it has to do with me being here and happiness. But that doesn’t tell me enough; that doesn’t tell me what is missing for him when I’m gone, or why on earth this would be his response to that feeling.
No, I still do not understand. He is there, next to me on the bed, still looking scared. Watching me to see what I will do… And I am fighting off the waves of confusion and betrayal that his revelation has caused.
“I still don’t get it, Brian. Please make me understand this,” I say, holding up the box with razor inside. He bites his lip and blinks a few times, tears having come to his eyes again.
I don’t let the tears dissuade me though; I take them as a sign that we are getting closer to the truth, closer to his heart.
“I know this hurts, but I have to understand. What happened when I was gone? I trusted you when you said it was only time. I trusted that we were going to be okay…. That you were going to be okay,” I say softly and I watch as one tear slides down his cheek.
“Were you really okay?” he asks, wiping his tear away.
“No -- not really… I was lonely, Brian… I missed you and it turns out that you’re pretty much my inspiration for art. Without you, I don’t really care so much about it,” I say softly.
“Well, you never told me that,” he says, his voice quiet but pointed. I don’t miss his point.
“Okay, yeah. That’s true, I should have talked to you. And you should have talked to me… We can’t change that now. But I’m talking now, so talk, Brian. Tell me what you felt that made you hurt yourself like that,” I say, reaching to run my finger along another scar, a tiny one on his palm.
He looks at me and draws his lips into his mouth, biting them hard. I see the tears threatening to fall and I know that this is very, very difficult for him. It’s heart wrenching to watch.
“I don’t know what to say,” he says, his voice carefully controlled. I shut my eyes for a second and make a decision. A hard but necessary decision to push him past where he wants to be, past comfort and even past simple humiliation. All the way to the truth.
----------Brian’s Point of View---------------
Sometimes I feel lost
As I pull you out like strings of memories
Wish I could weave them into you
“Show me.”
His demand startles me and I look at him, my eyes wide with surprise.
“What?” I ask, feeling my throat tighten as my mind starts to process what he must mean.
“Show me,” he says again, this time handing me the box. Holy…fucking….shit.
“No, I can’t,” I say rather desperately, feeling close to crying. Justin climbs off the bed and leaves me there, laying with my head on the pillow.
“Do it. Do it like I’m not here, and just tell me what it is you’re thinking about. Tell me what in the fuck is going on in your mind,” he says, “and then do it. I want to watch you cut yourself.”
My whole body tenses and I feel my muscles tense with emotion.
“No, Justin, no…I can’t,” I insist. He wipes my tears away and cups my face.
“It’s the only way I will understand this… Go ahead. I’m serious.”
He is serious; he’s looking at me solemnly, waiting with a very intense look in his eyes. I don’t know what else I can do. He steps back and observes me. My stomach is in terrible knots. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. For some reason sharing this with anyone -- even with Justin -- is the most horrifying thing I can imagine.
But Justin is waiting and I don’t know what else I can do.
When I open my eyes again, I see that he has moved to sit unobtrusively in a corner. I turn away from him and pick up the box with a shaking hand. I feel vomit rising in my throat and I have to stop and swallow a few times.
I open the box and take out the razor. The coolness of it, the familiarity of it in my fingers that usually calms me now brings only pure dread. I close the box and place it on the table where it usually goes.
I’m breathing so fast and my heart is racing uncontrollably. I can’t do this. This is too much. This is too hard. Tears are streaming down my face.
I lay back against the pillows the way I used to do when Justin wasn’t here. I close my eyes and try to steady myself, try at least to stop the shaking of my hand…
------------Justin’s Point of View----------
We’re both crying now. I see him lay back on the pillows and close his eyes. He takes a few deep breaths and by the time he opens his eyes, the pillowcase is already wet with his tears.
I force myself to stop crying because it’s hard to see through the tears. And more than anything, I need to see.
He takes the blade in his thumb and forefinger and pauses, pressing his lips together. I think he’s remembering that I said to tell me what he’s thinking, because a moment later he starts talking, his voice quavering with his effort not to sob.
“I’m thinking about how I -- miss you. And I love you… and I don’t know if you’re…” A fresh wave of tears fall and he pauses before he can continue, “coming back.”
I make a horrible strangled noise and feel the whole world crumbling around me as he keeps talking.
“I start to wonder about you and -- and if you’re thinking about me -- and then… I have to -- have to cry. Because I did this to us. I told you to leave but now -- it hurts.”
Bracing myself against the wall, I watch him, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He holds the blade in his right hand and outstretches his left. He watches himself as he does it, watches as the blade connects with flesh as he lowers the blade to his the pad of his thumb, just above his wrist.
He presses down more firmly with his pointer finger and drags the blade about an inch. The line of bright red that follows it brings the vomit all the way to my throat.
-------------Brian’s Point of View-------------
Nobody’s fault but mine
It’s nobody’s fault but mine
Try to save my soul tonight….
I watch the blood coming, my attention focused on the red, bright against the pale of my palm. The feelings are all there; the terrible loneliness, the fear. The guilt. The love and the loss… I focus it all into the stinging pain I feel. I close my eyes and try to feel it all at once. All cut up with the sharp, throbbing, radiating pain in my hand.
--------Justin’s Point of View------------
Brian is there, eyes closed, sobs wracking his body, seemingly unaware of me. His hand palm up and cupped slightly so that no blood reached the sheets.
I sink down to the floor on my knees and put my head in my hands, my cheeks wet with tears that are still falling.
It takes me a moment before I can stand up. Then I got to him.
---------------Brian’s Point of View----------------------
I have pretty much finished crying when he comes and sits next to me. Still, it scares me. I’d sort of forgotten he was there watching… When I open my eyes and meet his, blue and wet and gentle beyond measure.
I have to look away, and my eyes focus on his hand. I watch as he tends to me, my eyes trained on his fingers, watching each tender swipe he makes. He wipes away all the blood with a wet Kleenex.
Then he settles himself closer to me and uses another Kleenex to wipe away my tears. I close my eyes, unable to see the pain in his eyes, unable to see how I have hurt him.
When he is done, he kisses me softly on the lips and then rests his body on top of me.
“Look at me,” he says, his voice quiet but undeniable. I open my eyes.
“You’ve been hurting a lot,” he says, not expecting any reply. I blink a few times and nod. I can see no way to deny that, now.
“You feel like this is your fault.”
I nod again and hope that no more tears are coming.
“Look at me,” he says, gently touching my cheek, guiding me to look right at him. I do, reluctantly.
“This isn’t your fault…You didn’t know how much time would hurt. Neither did I.”
I nod and he smoothes my cheek with his fingertips.
“Now we know.”
I swallow hard and nod emphatically. Yes, we did know.
“So let’s end it…..”
I take a few deep breaths and twirl his hair in my fingers.
“Stay with me forever,” I say softly and watch as his eyes fill with tears of happiness.
He nods and I pull him to me for a long, slow kiss.
“I’ve always loved you, Brian… and I’ll never, ever leave again.”
Author: Indigo556
Chapter: 10/12 (completed)
Warnings: Includes self-harm related issues.
Time Frame: First six months post 513 (some time jumps between chapters!)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, or songs referenced herein and am not profiting from this (except that I meet nice people online!) :)
Summary: How will Brian cope post 513 and what will Justin do when he finds out?
***Please note this chapter was added and was not in a version of this story posted on another website. Also note that this is a graphic chapter; proceed wisely. :)
Chapter Ten: Save My Soul Tonight
(Includes Lyrics from If I Had It All, by the Dave Matthews Band, and Nobody's Fault But Mine, by Led Zeppelin)
Chapter Nine: Save My Soul Tonight
-------------Justin’s Point of View-----------------
If I were a king
I had everything,
Piece by piece
If I had you
I could give you your dreams…
I really need to understand this. Really, really understand it, totally and completely. What does it mean to him when I am not here?
I look over at him. He says it has to do with me being here and happiness. But that doesn’t tell me enough; that doesn’t tell me what is missing for him when I’m gone, or why on earth this would be his response to that feeling.
No, I still do not understand. He is there, next to me on the bed, still looking scared. Watching me to see what I will do… And I am fighting off the waves of confusion and betrayal that his revelation has caused.
“I still don’t get it, Brian. Please make me understand this,” I say, holding up the box with razor inside. He bites his lip and blinks a few times, tears having come to his eyes again.
I don’t let the tears dissuade me though; I take them as a sign that we are getting closer to the truth, closer to his heart.
“I know this hurts, but I have to understand. What happened when I was gone? I trusted you when you said it was only time. I trusted that we were going to be okay…. That you were going to be okay,” I say softly and I watch as one tear slides down his cheek.
“Were you really okay?” he asks, wiping his tear away.
“No -- not really… I was lonely, Brian… I missed you and it turns out that you’re pretty much my inspiration for art. Without you, I don’t really care so much about it,” I say softly.
“Well, you never told me that,” he says, his voice quiet but pointed. I don’t miss his point.
“Okay, yeah. That’s true, I should have talked to you. And you should have talked to me… We can’t change that now. But I’m talking now, so talk, Brian. Tell me what you felt that made you hurt yourself like that,” I say, reaching to run my finger along another scar, a tiny one on his palm.
He looks at me and draws his lips into his mouth, biting them hard. I see the tears threatening to fall and I know that this is very, very difficult for him. It’s heart wrenching to watch.
“I don’t know what to say,” he says, his voice carefully controlled. I shut my eyes for a second and make a decision. A hard but necessary decision to push him past where he wants to be, past comfort and even past simple humiliation. All the way to the truth.
----------Brian’s Point of View---------------
Sometimes I feel lost
As I pull you out like strings of memories
Wish I could weave them into you
“Show me.”
His demand startles me and I look at him, my eyes wide with surprise.
“What?” I ask, feeling my throat tighten as my mind starts to process what he must mean.
“Show me,” he says again, this time handing me the box. Holy…fucking….shit.
“No, I can’t,” I say rather desperately, feeling close to crying. Justin climbs off the bed and leaves me there, laying with my head on the pillow.
“Do it. Do it like I’m not here, and just tell me what it is you’re thinking about. Tell me what in the fuck is going on in your mind,” he says, “and then do it. I want to watch you cut yourself.”
My whole body tenses and I feel my muscles tense with emotion.
“No, Justin, no…I can’t,” I insist. He wipes my tears away and cups my face.
“It’s the only way I will understand this… Go ahead. I’m serious.”
He is serious; he’s looking at me solemnly, waiting with a very intense look in his eyes. I don’t know what else I can do. He steps back and observes me. My stomach is in terrible knots. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. For some reason sharing this with anyone -- even with Justin -- is the most horrifying thing I can imagine.
But Justin is waiting and I don’t know what else I can do.
When I open my eyes again, I see that he has moved to sit unobtrusively in a corner. I turn away from him and pick up the box with a shaking hand. I feel vomit rising in my throat and I have to stop and swallow a few times.
I open the box and take out the razor. The coolness of it, the familiarity of it in my fingers that usually calms me now brings only pure dread. I close the box and place it on the table where it usually goes.
I’m breathing so fast and my heart is racing uncontrollably. I can’t do this. This is too much. This is too hard. Tears are streaming down my face.
I lay back against the pillows the way I used to do when Justin wasn’t here. I close my eyes and try to steady myself, try at least to stop the shaking of my hand…
------------Justin’s Point of View----------
We’re both crying now. I see him lay back on the pillows and close his eyes. He takes a few deep breaths and by the time he opens his eyes, the pillowcase is already wet with his tears.
I force myself to stop crying because it’s hard to see through the tears. And more than anything, I need to see.
He takes the blade in his thumb and forefinger and pauses, pressing his lips together. I think he’s remembering that I said to tell me what he’s thinking, because a moment later he starts talking, his voice quavering with his effort not to sob.
“I’m thinking about how I -- miss you. And I love you… and I don’t know if you’re…” A fresh wave of tears fall and he pauses before he can continue, “coming back.”
I make a horrible strangled noise and feel the whole world crumbling around me as he keeps talking.
“I start to wonder about you and -- and if you’re thinking about me -- and then… I have to -- have to cry. Because I did this to us. I told you to leave but now -- it hurts.”
Bracing myself against the wall, I watch him, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He holds the blade in his right hand and outstretches his left. He watches himself as he does it, watches as the blade connects with flesh as he lowers the blade to his the pad of his thumb, just above his wrist.
He presses down more firmly with his pointer finger and drags the blade about an inch. The line of bright red that follows it brings the vomit all the way to my throat.
-------------Brian’s Point of View-------------
Nobody’s fault but mine
It’s nobody’s fault but mine
Try to save my soul tonight….
I watch the blood coming, my attention focused on the red, bright against the pale of my palm. The feelings are all there; the terrible loneliness, the fear. The guilt. The love and the loss… I focus it all into the stinging pain I feel. I close my eyes and try to feel it all at once. All cut up with the sharp, throbbing, radiating pain in my hand.
--------Justin’s Point of View------------
Brian is there, eyes closed, sobs wracking his body, seemingly unaware of me. His hand palm up and cupped slightly so that no blood reached the sheets.
I sink down to the floor on my knees and put my head in my hands, my cheeks wet with tears that are still falling.
It takes me a moment before I can stand up. Then I got to him.
---------------Brian’s Point of View----------------------
I have pretty much finished crying when he comes and sits next to me. Still, it scares me. I’d sort of forgotten he was there watching… When I open my eyes and meet his, blue and wet and gentle beyond measure.
I have to look away, and my eyes focus on his hand. I watch as he tends to me, my eyes trained on his fingers, watching each tender swipe he makes. He wipes away all the blood with a wet Kleenex.
Then he settles himself closer to me and uses another Kleenex to wipe away my tears. I close my eyes, unable to see the pain in his eyes, unable to see how I have hurt him.
When he is done, he kisses me softly on the lips and then rests his body on top of me.
“Look at me,” he says, his voice quiet but undeniable. I open my eyes.
“You’ve been hurting a lot,” he says, not expecting any reply. I blink a few times and nod. I can see no way to deny that, now.
“You feel like this is your fault.”
I nod again and hope that no more tears are coming.
“Look at me,” he says, gently touching my cheek, guiding me to look right at him. I do, reluctantly.
“This isn’t your fault…You didn’t know how much time would hurt. Neither did I.”
I nod and he smoothes my cheek with his fingertips.
“Now we know.”
I swallow hard and nod emphatically. Yes, we did know.
“So let’s end it…..”
I take a few deep breaths and twirl his hair in my fingers.
“Stay with me forever,” I say softly and watch as his eyes fill with tears of happiness.
He nods and I pull him to me for a long, slow kiss.
“I’ve always loved you, Brian… and I’ll never, ever leave again.”