fic:
Keeping Watch
Brian/Justin | PG13 | post-513 | Angst | Not everyone deals the same way.
Fic #41/50 for my fanfic50 table | Prompt: 035. Strong
Warning: minor character death
Notes: Sorry for se angst. :( Will post some superlight fluff to compensate shortly!
Keeping Watch
by Sake
Not everyone deals the same way. Not everyone can.
Justin’s back hurts from hours spent leaning against the wall, his legs are stiff from being bent for much too long.
But that’s okay.
It’s all worth it, if it helps. He hopes it does.
The past ten years have been hard work. They were full of drama, fights, and breaking. They were also full of luck, of joy, of mending. The years have been full of Brian.
Brian, who is often the breaker. Same as he’s the mender. It’s the whole dysfunctional and wonderful package.
Justin accepted a long time ago that he can never be the ultimate breaker-mender in return. Brian had signed away the rights to that role a long time ago, to two people who wanted nothing to do with the paperwork.
And now Brian won’t let himself break. Won’t let himself be mended.
But that’s okay.
Every now and then, something will happen that will do it, however. Something will crack Brian open.
When that something comes, it will make Justin break with him. Break from the intensity, from fear, from helplessness. It will make Justin almost glad that Brian keeps so much inside usually.
Because when Brian does break, it’s annihilation.
The colors in his eyes will be more disturbing and more vibrant than the most surreal of paintings. Justin tried a couple of times to mix up his oils and recreate the dark swirl on the palette.
He once came close, he thinks, and sat there crying for an hour.
So when Deb bled to death in the middle of the street fifteen minutes after serving them lunch, wig rumpled and tinted a too real shade of red, Justin knew that he had to leave Brian alone. Leave him to his dark colors.
Justin closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall. He hates how the tears feel. Hates how his fingers itch as he fights the instinct to touch the door.
It all hurts so fucking much. The loss of Deb’s warmth, the weight of Brian’s pain, the added chill of having a wall between them while they both sit alone with their grief. The knowledge of Brian’s being much greater.
But that’s okay.
Because this is how he helps Brian best. Allowing the distance while every cell in his body screams for closeness. Leaving Brian to mourn in his way, while just sitting here, waiting, fending off anything the world might try to disrupt Brian’s way.
At some point, Brian will open the door. He will let Justin close, as much as he can.
Until then, Justin will stay on the other side and keep watch.
Brian/Justin | PG13 | post-513 | Angst | Not everyone deals the same way.
Fic #41/50 for my fanfic50 table | Prompt: 035. Strong
Warning: minor character death
Notes: Sorry for se angst. :( Will post some superlight fluff to compensate shortly!
Keeping Watch
by Sake
Not everyone deals the same way. Not everyone can.
Justin’s back hurts from hours spent leaning against the wall, his legs are stiff from being bent for much too long.
But that’s okay.
It’s all worth it, if it helps. He hopes it does.
The past ten years have been hard work. They were full of drama, fights, and breaking. They were also full of luck, of joy, of mending. The years have been full of Brian.
Brian, who is often the breaker. Same as he’s the mender. It’s the whole dysfunctional and wonderful package.
Justin accepted a long time ago that he can never be the ultimate breaker-mender in return. Brian had signed away the rights to that role a long time ago, to two people who wanted nothing to do with the paperwork.
And now Brian won’t let himself break. Won’t let himself be mended.
But that’s okay.
Every now and then, something will happen that will do it, however. Something will crack Brian open.
When that something comes, it will make Justin break with him. Break from the intensity, from fear, from helplessness. It will make Justin almost glad that Brian keeps so much inside usually.
Because when Brian does break, it’s annihilation.
The colors in his eyes will be more disturbing and more vibrant than the most surreal of paintings. Justin tried a couple of times to mix up his oils and recreate the dark swirl on the palette.
He once came close, he thinks, and sat there crying for an hour.
So when Deb bled to death in the middle of the street fifteen minutes after serving them lunch, wig rumpled and tinted a too real shade of red, Justin knew that he had to leave Brian alone. Leave him to his dark colors.
Justin closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall. He hates how the tears feel. Hates how his fingers itch as he fights the instinct to touch the door.
It all hurts so fucking much. The loss of Deb’s warmth, the weight of Brian’s pain, the added chill of having a wall between them while they both sit alone with their grief. The knowledge of Brian’s being much greater.
But that’s okay.
Because this is how he helps Brian best. Allowing the distance while every cell in his body screams for closeness. Leaving Brian to mourn in his way, while just sitting here, waiting, fending off anything the world might try to disrupt Brian’s way.
At some point, Brian will open the door. He will let Justin close, as much as he can.
Until then, Justin will stay on the other side and keep watch.