Fic: The Place Where you Belong (QaF, Brian/Justin, It's Only Time series)

[freakykat]

banner by qafmaniac

Title: The place where you belong (It's Only Time series)
Author: freakykat
Time Frame: Three years and some change post 513
Summary: Molly has some things to show her brother…Ninth short in a series titled It's Only Time. The series should lead up to a work in progress that is underway.
Rating: R for language
Warnings: Angst, humor, lots of cursing, and that little green monster…
A/N: Thanks to wouldbedorothy and reilael for beta-reading. Feedback much appreciated and loved.
Disclaimer: I own none of this - they belong to Showtime, Cowlip and others. I only play with them a little. Once I'm done, I'll dust them off and give them back.

All previous parts for It‘s Only Time here.

The place that you belong

Justin had always assumed that when you looked at an object or a person or a situation that would change your life, you’d know it. You’d sense it. And it would be… powerful. At least, that had been his experience. It was how he always knew he was looking at it.

It was what he expected.

Sometimes he forgot he didn’t know it all.

It arrived in a plain, brown box.

Justin had expected something more. It was Molly, for Christ’s sakes. She had been calling him on a daily basis… asking if her package had arrived, reminding him that when it did he was to call her immediately, and driving him insane all around with her excitement to hear his reaction.

So, he was sure when it arrived, there would be trumpets, colorful banners, some accompanying background music straight out of Babylon. When Hannah handed him the fairly small package, he’d looked at her blankly.

“It’s what you’ve been waiting for, Justin.”

Justin had blinked a few times. “Huh?”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Your birthday present from Molly. Hello? You’ve assaulted me every time I come back from the post office, asking about it.” She shook her head as she walked away, muttering something about insanity and artists.

Justin stared at the box in his hands, slowly shaking it and hearing a muted clicking noise. He pushed away the disappointment. I mean, he’d had no idea what Molly had sent, but this was… strange. His sister was, from what little he knew of her (and that thought made him sad), loud and bright and large. Those things he had been at her age but more.

He knew little else about her but that. And those things he’d learned from others.

Molly had been eight years old when he’d left home, and at that age, at that time, she was an annoying little shit. He supposed all eight-year-olds were that way to their teenage siblings. And he hated to admit it, but… he hadn’t missed her much at first. Sometimes, if he thought about it, he would feel a twinge of something, but mostly he’d been involved in his own problems, in himself.

He felt guilt about that, even though he knew that it had been unavoidable. Teenagers were selfish little assholes by definition. He had been no exception at times. And the fact that there was an age gap of nine years between him and Molly… that hadn’t helped.

It wasn’t until after he’d moved to New York that he had begun to understand the little sister he left behind. Her letters started to arrive a week after he’d settled into the hovel that had been his first apartment, his own little studio. It had taken him a year of struggling to be able to afford it. He’d ducked his head and worked steadily. He’d avoided almost all contact with everyone… it was easier for him that way… so the letter had been a surprise. It was full of life and snark and scary intelligence he thought no fourteen-year-old should possess. Her personality shone forth from every line, and he imagined that she was what a young Debbie must have been like.

Letters weren’t enough to know her, though they helped. Most times, he felt like an outsider looking in through the glass of a life… that should have been his. And Molly was the glass he was staring through. Her confidence in who she was and her place in the world reminded him of the person he had once been.

Of the person he was now finding again.

The first time she’d mentioned Brian, he’d re-read the lines ten times. It came about six months after her first letter… a year and a half into his self-imposed exile from the Pitts and… from Brian. His name had been a word among a hundred others, but it was the first one his eyes had found when he unfolded the piece of paper. She’d repeated a joke Brian told her at dinner, and there was a sharp pang deep inside Justin.

Molly had dinner with Brian. Molly told Brian her problems. Brian protected Molly against Craig. Brian started to help pay for Molly’s dance classes.

It was irrational to be jealous of Brian and Molly at the same time, but he was.

But, after some time, he found the letters became his connection to the life he left behind and missed. He looked forward to the stories Molly told, to her honesty and startling humor, even to the digs she took at him for his silence. Justin had almost choked more than once at her descriptions of life around her. Detailed and in your face. That was her motto.

And the first time she’d called, he’d nearly wanted to run home again. Molly had the uncanny ability to make life in the Pitts seem like fucking heaven. Her adventures -- or, rather, misadventures -- never failed to make him laugh. She’d give him advice (that he never asked for) on what to wear, where to go, and who to fuck. Or, in his case, who not to. It was insane.

In getting to know his sister, as much as he knew her, anyway, there was one thing Justin was sure of.

She should have been born a gay man.

But two in the family would have been too much, so he figured whatever higher deity made those kinds of decisions had sent Molly instead.

And he was damn happy for it. Even if he never admitted it.

Shaking his head, Justin pulled himself back into the present, ripping open the brown paper of the package. Walking to the living area of his studio, he picked up his phone with one hand while he used the other to unwrap the rest of the present. Pressing the speed dial button for Molly, he waited until he heard her voice before setting the box on the coffee table and taking a seat.

“Hello, big brother.”

Justin grinned. “Mollusk.”

He imagined her nose scrunching at the nickname. “Really, Justin. Must you? I don’t go around calling you Sunshine, do I?” Her laugh came over the line. “I figure you don’t like that… unless it’s coming from Brian and you all are in the middle of a fu--”

“Molly!”

“What?! How do you know what I was going to say? It could have been all good, clean fun. Jeez, Justin. You have a very naughty mind.” He sensed the grin on her face. “I don’t know where you get it from.”

“I’m ignoring that and letting you know that your long-awaited, not to mention anticipated package has arrived.”

“Really? Finally! Did you open it yet?”

“Um… no. Wasn’t I threatened, on pain of disembowelment, that I was not to open said package until I had cleared it with you?”

“Damn right.” Molly lowered her voice jokingly. “Okay, Jim. This is your mission, should you choose to accept it. Take what’s inside the package, a bottle of your favorite alcohol, some junk food and your fag hag… better known as the fabulous Hannah… Oh! And Ronald, too. And set to enjoying it.”

Justin chuckled, pulling a small case with a disc from the inside of the package. He stared at it for a long moment. “Okay…”

Molly sighed. “I don’t have to tell you to call me when you’re done. Later, Sunshine.”

Two hours, a couple of phone calls, and a bag of popcorn later, Justin slid the homemade DVD Molly had sent into his DVD player and flopped down between Ron and Hannah on the soft leather couch in his loft.

“So, what is this exactly?” Ron asked, delicately munching on a few popcorn kernels.

“I have no clue.” Justin shrugged, pushing the play button on the remote, and hearing the whirring of the machine, he leaned back into the cushions, eyes focused on the flat screen of the television. “All I know is that Molly says she’s been working on this for a while now.”

“That makes me nervous somehow,” Hannah joked… kind of.

Whatever retort Ron was going to produce was stopped at the sound coming from the television, and three pairs of eyes focused on the red-haired girl -- woman really -- on the screen. She grinned out at them, waving a hand as she spoke.

“Hey guys! If you can see this, then, well, my fucking Movie Maker actually worked, and all the sweat and tears and Hunter’s whining was definitely worth it.”

“I never whined.” The voice was clear, even though the body it emanated from couldn’t be seen.

Molly rolled her eyes, and Hannah laughed at how similar to Justin that was.

“Whatever,” Molly continued, blue eyes shining out to them. “I hate introductions that take fucking forever, so I’ll make this short and sweet. Basically, for the last year, Hunter and I have taken turns, with Brian’s handy little digital camera, recording… life, I guess.” Molly smiled at them. “It was the only present I thought you’d appreciate. So, well, from both of us.” She made a quick gesture at them and the camera veered suddenly, Hunter’s face peering at them as he waved, and then veering back to Molly once again. “Here’s a year in the life…” She paused, thoughtful, and looking almost stricken, she shook her head. “No. Let’s be honest. I call this A Year in a Life Unlived.”

Justin swallowed at that. Before he could make a comment, the screen went dark and then lit up again, showing the inside of Debbie’s house, filled to capacity with the whole gang. Hannah blinked a few times as she stared. “Jesus. How many of you guys are there?”

Ron snorted, then paused, leaning forward when he caught sight of Ben. “Damn. He’s hot.” Brian cut across the screen and Ron smirked. “Damn. He’s hot, too.” Less than ten seconds later, the camera caught Brian holding Gus, smiling at something his son was saying, and Justin glanced at Ron when he sighed. “As if he couldn’t get any more fucking appealing.”

Hannah crossed her legs, glancing over at Justin. “Okay, is this someone’s birthday or something?” She studied the screen. “I don’t see any holiday decorations, so I’m thinking it has to be that, right?”

Justin stared, shaking his head, noting there was no handmade banner or balloons. “Nope. Just Sunday dinner.” His eyes followed Brian as he sat next to Carl, leaning in to speak softly, and whatever he said caused Carl to roar a laugh. It caused a stirring in Justin’s stomach… the closeness Brian seemed to have with those around him. Something he hadn’t been there to watch happen.

The camera moved away and Justin choked back the whimper that threatened to leave. He wanted to look at Brian. If he could look at him, that gaping ache inside him seemed to ease. Even if only a little.

The camera would leave and come back in intervals, always a bit later than before, and Justin smiled at Michael and Emmett’s drunken debate over who was hotter, Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom. The camera switched to show Brian and Ted rolling their eyes and exchanging a quiet look of frustration while Ben smiled softly from the sidelines. Ron applauded when Emmett threw himself onto Brian’s lap during his dramatic recreation of the latest fight between Paris Hilton and Lindsey Lohan. Mel and Lindsey made out for the camera and Ron made a gagging noise. Justin couldn’t agree more.

However, it was the little moments that killed Justin on the inside.

“Come on, Ben,” Michael giggled, pulling at his husband’s arm. “Outside.” And Justin smiled as the camera switched to Brian.

“You and the Professor have a kink I don‘t know about, Mikey?” Brian smirked as he lit up, meeting Mel’s stare and grinning, passing her the toke. The camera caught her quick glance at Lindsey across the room. Grabbing Brian’s offering, she took a deep inhale and handed it back. Brian chuckled and looked over at Ben’s loud groan.

“Michael.”

“Come. Faster.”

Emmett started to giggle, and Brian mumbled into his hand, “Christ. Now I know what a Saturday night at the Novotny-Bruckner estate sounds like.”

Justin laughed when Debbie pinched Brian’s cheek on her way into the kitchen, saying, “Be nice,” and he pursed his lips inward, muttering curses. Justin could see how Brian’s eyes lit up at it, though, and he curled his hand into a fist to resist the urge to touch the screen.

Justin and Ron roared, while Hannah covered her eyes in embarrassment, at the impromptu dance between Molly and Emmett, ridiculous and perfect like only they could manage. Justin missed them all the more when the others, except for Brian, Carl, and Mel, joined them. Brian gave Ted a death glare when he attempted to haul him up to dance.

Hannah started to laugh. “God, they make the mundane interesting, don’t they?”
Justin simply nodded.

It was coming to a close, it seemed, with coats being thrown on, dishes stacked and taken into the kitchen, quiet conversations being had on the couch. Molly, Brian and Gus sat on the floor, packing up the toys and games spread across it. The camera seemed to float over and around them, allowing Justin a peek at them all.

“Okay, everyone.” All heads turned to the camera and Hunter’s voice. “It’s time to say hello to Justin.”

A dozen voices yelled out variations of his name, calling out greetings to Sunshine and telling him to visit. Debbie threw kisses at the screen. Emmett scolded him for not calling. Ted simply waved, eyes flicking over to where Justin imagined Brian sat with his sister and Gus. Jen grinned at the screen, but the shine in her eyes couldn’t be missed.

The camera swiveled to show Gus waving, calling out his name, and suddenly from nowhere anyone expected, he said, “Come home, Jussy!” It was almost missed in the cacophony of other noises, but Brian’s flinch was so visible, Justin was sure he heard right.

In the next two hours, Ron, Hannah and Justin laughed so hard they cried and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Karaoke night had been Ron’s favorite. He’d about fallen off the couch laughing at Emmett and Michael’s rendition of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.“ Molly had pumped her hands over her head… (Justin didn’t even want to know how she had managed to get into Woody’s)… bumping her shoulder against Brian, who gulped down his beers as fast as humanly possible. Ben had patted his hand soothingly.

Christmas had been eventful, between Gus’ tantrum when he was told that Justin wouldn’t be there again that year (and Justin had ignored the looks from Ron and Hannah, and his own sharp pain, when that happened), to Mel and Lindsey’s requisite fight, to Emmett’s queen out at finding his boyfriend, Matt, with Ted’s date, Miles.

Justin had enjoyed the smirk that Blake had exchanged with Brian. Ron had laughed when Ben handed Hunter twenty dollars as he passed him by.

Whoever held the camera at any given moment seemed to know exactly where to aim it, Justin thought, smiling. Enough time with those people and you knew where to look for entertainment.

Then there was Blake and Ted’s disappearance and Trevor‘s (Hunter’s boyfriend) red face and stuttered explanation when he came down the stairs to tell them he’d found them… They were busy. His eyebrows had wiggled comically (and Justin was sure it hadn’t been on purpose), and he’d smiled shyly at the screen.

But when it was done, it was the quiet moments between them, while opening presents and exchanging good wishes, that tugged at Justin’s lonely heart. He wanted to be the one to wrap an arm around Brian’s shoulder and kiss his cheek (well, more than that…). Instead, he watched as Molly did it, followed by Jen and Debbie.

Those moments shown as excerpts of the life he missed were what made Justin want to run from the room.

But they passed and it moved on to other celebrations, parties, or sometimes just quick moments at the diner, the loft, Debbie’s, even his Mom’s house. They all made him long to be there. With them. With Brian. Even though Justin understood it couldn’t be that easy. He’d worked so hard to separate himself. Going back would be harder still.

Molly had managed to record Debbie’s birthday, which had ended in a warning call from the police, much to poor Carl’s chagrin. Justin’s favorite part had been Molly managing to convince Brian to dance with Debbie, which he had until Carl had saved him. Justin had laughed at the look of relief on his face then. It had made Debbie happy, though, and even if it caused Justin a momentary sense of panic, it passed, and he had warmed at the look Debbie had given Brian.

His least favorite part had come immediately after. Brian had been standing next to Jen, grinning at his mother’s enthusiastic retelling of something he couldn’t hear. Then, suddenly Brian was hugged from behind, and for one second Justin saw the frozen look on Brian’s face before it broke into a grin. He’d turned and returned the hug. Jen’s face was schooled into a look of welcome, but Justin caught the quick flash of worry in her eyes.

Justin recognized who it was from pictures he’d seen, and that flare of hate that he now associated with the man ran through him.

Hannah sat up straighter. “Who the hell is that?”

Justin muttered, “Greg.”

Hannah whistled. “He’s pretty, isn’t he?”

Ron raised an eyebrow as they watched. “He seems to be all over Brian.”

Justin nodded slightly, eyes narrowed at the screen. The camera panned in closer, focusing on Greg, his gaze on Brian’s face. It softened as Brian spoke, eyes flicking down to Brian’s lips and then back up once more. Justin dug his clenched fist into his leg, refusing to release the growl that gathered in his chest. He had no right. Not one. It wasn’t his place.

Fuck that.

He had every right.

No matter where he went, no matter what happened, and no matter what or who he did…

Brian was his.

His.

It was gone as quickly as it came, and the screen flashed back to Molly, throwing him a kiss, reminding him they missed him and telling him to call. She winked and the screen went blank. It flickered, and he watched flashes of moments cut across to him. Emmett and Ted. Michael and Ben. Gus and Molly. Debbie, Carl, Jen, the girls… the boys… Brian and Gus. Molly hugging Brian. His mother laughing with Debbie. Ben making Brian give a rare laugh. All the moments passed so fast but Justin let each sink into him. It ended on Brian, not knowing the camera was on his face… He smiled at someone, warmly, and the image faded away.

Justin wanted to cry.

“Wow,” Ron said and glanced over at Justin. Sensing that Justin needed a moment, he swatted at Hannah. “How about we go get some take out?” He stared at Justin. “That good with you, J?”

Justin was sure he nodded.

“Right. Come on, girl.”

Hannah stood, then thinking better of it, sat back down, closer to Justin. Putting one hand on his knee, she squeezed carefully. “Sometimes we make the wrong decisions thinking that they are the right ones. We can’t change them, of course. But, we can make sure to make the ones that we want to make. The ones that make us happy. Not the ones that are expected.”

Justin made a noise as he met her eyes. “Fortune cookie or gum wrapper?“

She grinned, then kissed Justin’s cheek and walked to where Ron was waiting. Looking back once, she closed the door.

Ron sighed. “Shit.”

Hannah swooshed out a long breath. “Yeah.”

Inside the quiet stillness of the loft, Justin stared out of the window into the distance. He hated it when he felt like this. Like every fucking sacrifice he’d made in the three and half years since he’d left home was for nothing.

It hadn’t been easy.

Justin snorted, arms crossing as he stared blankly over the view of trees and the background made up of other trendy townhouses and walk-ups. That was an understatement to say the least. He’d worked his ass off since the day he set foot in New York. Forgoing everything else, all his focus had been on success. And he’d gotten lucky, he knew that. He’d struck when it was hot, and it was a pay off.

At almost twenty-seven, he was becoming a leading name in the art world. The talented and assertive up and comer. He’d managed commissions, a solo show, and a run in Paris…

He had a partner (ex-partner now) and manager who cared for him. Deeply. Good friends. And even if his mother and sister weren’t as close to him (or he to them) as he wanted, they kept in touch.

So why the fuck did one DVD, full of moments he’d have taken for granted, make his whole life seem empty?

Because what he’d seen wasn’t simply moments. It was life. It was life going on without him. It represented change and loss. Those times he could never get back, no matter how many pictures he looked at. No matter how many home movies he watched or stories he was told. Because he ached with such wanting that it was hard to sleep some nights. Because…

He wasn’t there.

And someone else… some random person who didn’t understand the people he loved… the person he loved, was there. Did get to see it.

And it pissed him off.

He glanced at the phone, knowing this wasn’t the time to call Molly. He might just start yelling at her for her well-meaning, if slightly annoying, gift. She had wanted him to see what he yearned for.

Brian.

Their life…

The last few months had been baby steps for them. That night after the restaurant… Daphne’s visit and Brian’s involvement… Sharing emails and late night calls about their separate lives. It was all leading somewhere.

Decision made, he hit the speed dial and waited until the ringing was interrupted by a click. Before anything could be said, he heard the words tumble from his mouth. “I fucking miss you.”

Justin bit his lip as the longest silence he’d ever experienced passed, until he finally heard the muttered, “Shit.”

“That’s exactly the response I was looking for.” Justin found there was humor in his voice and was as surprised as he imagined Brian had to be. The unspoken rule since that first night when he’d started calling again had been broken. No talking about feelings or wants or needs. The curse had told him more than anything else Brian could have said.

“Justin…”

“And don’t even try to tell me that I don’t. I know what I fucking feel, Brian.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Uh-huh.” Justin licked his dry lips, swallowing against the ache. “I miss everything about you. Every damn thing.” There was more silence and he felt a bubble of hysterical laughter trying to break free. He could sense Brian panicking .

“What the fuck brought this on after three years?”

“Let’s just say I got an eyeful of the life I’m missing, and I don’t like that.” Justin sighed into the phone. “I’m not saying I’m coming home… yet.”

“Damn straight you aren’t.”

Justin cleared his throat. “This is just… a warning.”

“A warning?”

Justin knew, at that very moment, that Brian would have a harder time with his decision… the one that would bring him home… than Justin ever would.

“Yep.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Justin?”

“It means I’m on to you, Kinney. I know you miss me. I know you want me home. In your life… in your bed…” Justin lowered his voice as he spoke. “And inside you.”

Brian coughed. “In your dreams, Sunshine.”

Justin grinned. “Fine. We can do this the hard way. Don’t even say it, Brian.” He stopped the pun he was sure Brian would have made. “Just know that I’m working my way back.”

“To what, Justin? What the hell is here?”

“My life. The world I love and know. Everything I’m sure now I want. You, you son of a bitch.” Justin growled that last part and glanced at the door as it opened. “Deal with it.”

Hannah and Ron waved bags of food at him. He gestured at them to give him a minute and listened to Brian’s breathing as he let it sink in.

“Nothing will change my mind. You love me, you bastard. Admit it.” There was a low mutter and Justin rolled his eyes. “What was that?”

“Never said I didn’t, you little shit.”

Justin laughed. “Good to know. Later, Brian.” He remembered something before hitting the off button. “Oh, and tell Molly I said thanks.” He ended the call with that, smiling as he joined his friends.

He had made his decision.

He was going back where he belonged.

Molly Taylor raised an eyebrow at her almost-if-you-squinted-kind-of-best-friend, as he paced in front of her. Hunter was a few years her senior, but they had hit it off the moment they’d met even though he had been a freshman in college while she was a lowly freshman… in high school. Being the two in the family within the same relative age range, they had bonded. Her eyes fell to the person next to her, and she grinned when Trevor, Hunter’s lovely and quite hot boyfriend, winked at her.

Molly loved him.

Everyone loved Trevor.

Hell, even Brian seemed to not mind him much.

“I don’t think this was your best idea, Mol,” Hunter said again, glancing at her as he continued to groove a path in her mother‘s hardwood floors.

“Don’t be a twat, Hunter.”

“I am not a twat.” Hunter stopped and met Trevor’s eyes, one hand on his hip. “Trev, am I a twat?”

“Only a little bit of one, babe.”

Molly snorted a laugh, drinking generously from her Pepsi as she did and almost spitting it all out. That’s what she loved about her family… brutal fucking honesty.

“Oh, so I’m a twat for not wanting to go along with her little scheme?” Hunter raised an eyebrow, very reminiscent of Brian, and she snickered some more. It really didn’t work as well on anyone else.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Worked?” Hunter’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You call Brian ranting at you -- no, correction, at us -- for having sent Justin that DVD a good thing?”

“Of course I do,” Molly said, exasperated.

Hunter stared at her, then turned to Trevor with a pleading expression.

“What she means is that if Justin hadn’t said something about possibly coming back, then Brian would never have reacted that way.” Trevor looked at the door. “He was kind of freaked.”

Molly grinned. “Yeah. It was awesome.”

Hunter fell on the couch, head in his hands. “You are insane, Molly.”

Trevor shrugged. “She’s not wrong, though. I mean, this one worked.”

Hunter turned his head to look at them. “This one? You telling me you’ve done this before?”

Molly made a derisive sound. “Duh.”

It still didn’t seem to register with Hunter, and he threw his hands in the air. “There were other plans?!”

“You aren’t too bright, are you, Jimmy?”

She received a glare from both pairs of eyes and waved her hand at them. “Sorry. I know. I know. That was fucked up. But really, Hunter. You think I made all those scrapbooks and organized all those photo albums for my health?” Molly shook her head, sighing. “This was the culmination of a couple years worth of work, man.”

“And don’t forget that year you spent trying to get Brian to move to New York,” Trevor added, meeting Hunter’s baffled expression. “What?”

“You knew about her little plans?” Hunter tensed a bit. “And you said nothing to me?”

Trevor looked abashed. “Kind of.”

“Traitor.”

“Oh, come on, James. We were only friends when she was doing the ‘Send Brian to New York’ plan, and she asked me not to tell anyone.” Trevor shrugged. “And by the time you actually had the guts to admit you wanted my ass for more than an occasional romp, that plan had been scrapped.”

Hunter stared at Trevor. “Traitor.”

Trevor stood up. “For crying out loud. It wasn’t that big of a deal. She kept leaving pamphlets lying around Brian’s house… Hinting that the city would have new clients… Getting Jennifer to mention available space.”

Hunter turned to Molly. “You are scary.”

“I am, yes. But… it didn’t work, ‘cause Brian isn’t that easy to manipulate. Besides, he complains, but he loves it here. It’s his home. It’s where his work is. I got that, eventually.”

“So you switched to Justin.”

“Which you knew about,” Trevor threw out, meeting Hunter’s glare.

“I’m still mad at you.”

Molly spoke up. “I asked him to keep it to himself. He was only being a good friend.” She grinned at them again. “Besides, it’s done. The new plan, which you were aware of even if you pretend ignorance now, Hunter, seems to have worked.”

Hunter conceded that. “I guess so. But Brian…”

Molly shook her head. “It’s all noise. He’s fucking scared ’cause he could possibly have it all now… and well, you know… Brian. That’s impossible for him. At least, that’s what he believes.” She stared at the other two and couldn’t help the grin that came across her face. “Shit. Justin is coming home.”

Trevor held up his hand. “We don’t know that, for sure. Brian said he was thinking about coming back. There’s no certainty.”

Her eyes fell to the frame on the mantle… the one with her favorite picture of Brian and Justin. Her mother liked to look at it when she was missing Justin. Which was a lot. She even once caught Brian staring at it.

She knew them. They missed each other. And she wasn’t stupid. If Justin hadn’t been ready to see what he was missing, it would never have worked.

He was ready.

“Justin is coming home.”

Part Ten

###