New QAF Fic: Inescapable, NC-17, 3/?
Part 1, Part 2.
See part one for disclaimer/info. Some lines in this are lifted directly from the show. They belong to CowLip!
Lots of hugs and kisses to nel - thank you! Feedback would be great :)
*
Brian drove Deb to the hospital, following behind the ambulance that was carrying Mikey. She cried the entire way and rarely spoke which was just as well, because when she did speak it was fucking depressing.
"Do you think..." she sniffed. "Do you think it was a bomb?"
He so did not want to be having this fucking conversation. As it was he'd have to deal with all that shit later, and he really couldn't bring himself to give a fuck about the club right now, even if he did own it. "I don't know." But it had to be a bomb. Of course it was a bomb. It'd be too fucking coincidental - an accidental explosion on the very night they were holding a fundraiser to fight against a homophobic piece of legislation - to be anything else. Brian didn't need to hear police reports or investigative findings. It wouldn't be anything else.
"How could someone do that? Hate someone else so much?" Pointless fucking questions, and nothing any of them hadn't asked a thousand times before. "Try and kill my fucking kid?" She cried again, louder, and Brian couldn't fucking wait to get to the hospital.
He let her out when they arrived, grateful to have a few moments peace while he looked for parking.
In the waiting area Ben was sitting down, clasped hands resting against his mouth. Deb rushed towards Brian.
"Anything?" he asked.
"Not yet," she shook her head, swallowing anxiously. Brian hugged her.
More people started dribbling in. Mel and Linds arrived, reporting that that Justin guy had been fine. Other people he didn't know whose friends and loved ones had been injured; maybe worse. Brian felt like he was in the middle of a war zone. Still too many people and too much fucking blood.
Predictably, Deb started freaking out, pacing around hopelessly. "What if I lose him? What am I gonna do?"
Completely unexpectedly, Ben lost it, snapping at her. "You're not gonna lose him and this is not about you, so sit down."
Stunned, looking lost, for once Deb followed obediently and sat down, glancing around but obviously not really seeing anything. "I'm sorry. You're right."
Brian, for his part, had only been able to stand about restlessly. Running a hand through his hair. Taking a step forward, taking a step back. He fucking *hated* waiting; had never been any good at it. He'd much rather be doing something that just standing around uselessly.
Seeing movement, Brian glanced to the left and saw the doctor who'd been working on Mikey. Brian took two steps to get to him, and Ben was standing next to him in seconds. "Well?"
The doctor didn't pull any punches. "He's lost a lot of blood. Before we can do anything he needs a transfusion."
The answer seemed obvious. "Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?"
"Well, he's AB negative," he explained, "we're short on his type so we're checking other hospitals."
Brian looked towards Deb and when she shook her head to indicate she wasn't the same type, he started rolling up his left sleeve. "Okay, I'm O negative. That's the universal donor, right?"
Pausing awkwardly, the doctor scratched at his ear. "Are you gay?"
What the fuck? "What's that got to do with anything?"
Ben looked towards him sombrely. "We can't give blood because of HIV."
Jesus Christ. "I don't *have* HIV."
"It doesn't matter," the doctor said apologetically. "Gays are considered too high a risk." He moved to turn away.
No fucking way. That wasn't good enough. Reaching out, Brian grabbed his arm. "What about all the straight studs and bitches who fuck around without protection? I mean, you'd take their blood, right?" The fucking hypocrisy was mind-blowing.
He shook his head. "It's an FDA regulation. I'm sorry." Pulling his arm free, he walked away.
Mel of all people tried to calm him down. "Brian..."
"I don't give a shit!" Brian tried to run after him, to get the fucker to listen, but Ben stood in front of him and blocked his path. "Take my blood, mother fucker!"
"Brian, look!" Ben tried to reason, pushing him back. "You couldn't give even if you were straight. You had cancer."
Cancer. Fuck. Fucking cancer. It was bad enough that it'd taken one of his balls; now it was stopping him from helping his best friend. "Fuck!" Whirling away, he started heading somewhere - anywhere. Just fucking away.
"Brian!"
"Leave him," someone said, and Brian was fucking glad for it.
When he reached the bathroom he suddenly turned towards it and banged the door open, striding inside. Three stalls, all empty, and when Brian turned towards the mirror he realised he looked almost as bad as Mikey had. Running the taps, he cupped the water in his hands and rubbed roughly at his face, watching the dirty water mix with the clean no matter how many times he did it, again and again, he just couldn't get fucking-
The door creaked open and he turned his head towards it, water running down his neck and soaking into his shirt. It was the guy - Christ, under better lighting he looked like little more than a kid - from the club.
"Hey," Justin said, still holding the door open. "I saw you come in here and..." He must have taken in the way Brian looked, and his expression dropped. "Oh, fuck. Is your friend...?"
"He's alive," Brian replied hoarsely, turning off the water and reaching to the side for a paper towel, yanking it out of the dispenser and giving his face a perfunctory dry before throwing the paper into the trash. "Lost a lot of blood. Waiting on a transfusion." Brian wasn't a big fan of talking to strangers because he generally wasn't interested in anything they had to say. But this Justin had been there. Maybe even saved Mikey's life.
"What blood type is he?" Justin asked, stepping in further and letting the door close behind him.
Brian knew where this was going. "Doesn't matter. You're queer, right?" For one, he'd been at Babylon, and Brian's gaydar was pinging so hard he'd probably never stop hearing it. "Queers can never have the joy of sharing our blood with others. They think we all have HIV and, therefore, we're too big a risk."
Justin's face transformed into outright indignation. "But that's *bullshit*! Fuck, do they even know the statistics? Christ, what about straight people who have sex? They'd take their fucking blood, no questions asked."
Brian suspected he had a gay, miniature version of Debbie on his hands. Perfect. "Believe me, I told them that already." Justin continued to fume. Brian continued to watch him. "So what the fuck are you doing here, anyway?"
He looked surprised for a moment. "The hospital?" Justin shrugged. "They suggested I come in, just to make sure I was really okay, nothing else was wrong. Seemed like a good idea and..." he smiled a little. "Frankly, I wanted to see how your friend was doing. This whole night's been so fucked up. I'm just hoping that something good comes out of it."
No reason he couldn't tag along. Besides, Debbie'd wanna meet him. "And you're all right?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine."
Brian nodded. It would've been really shitty if the guy who'd helped Mikey ended up dying. "Good. Let's go meet the gang."
When they got back to the waiting area, it didn't take long for Brian to discover he'd been right about Debbie's reaction. "This is Justin," he introduced, pointing a thumb towards him, "he was the one helping Mikey in the club."
"Oh!" Deb was on her feet instantly, rushing towards Justin and pulling him into a hug. Brian almost felt sorry for him. "Oh my God, thank you, thank you so much for helping my son."
Justin handled it with remarkable restraint, although he still looked kind of stunned. "It's okay, really. Anyone would've done the same."
"You're an angel," Deb told him, still holding on tight, "a fucking angel! Fuck knows how long it would've taken them to find him in there - he could've bled to death! Christ, I don't know what I'd do if..." She started welling up again, and Mel and Linds managed to coax her into sitting down.
Ben approached Justin, holding out a hand. "I, uh...didn't get a chance to thank you. Before. Thanks."
"Don't worry about it," Justin smiled, shaking his hand. "I know how I'd feel in your position."
After releasing each others hands they stood there for a few moments awkwardly, before Ben nodded and moved back to his seat. Linds invited Justin to sit down next to her, and they greeted each other as cheerily as they could, obviously recognising each other.
It probably helped, having an unknown there. Linds and Mel started asking him questions - what he did, what his background was - and they all listened. Fuck, there was nothing else to do, and it was better than just waiting. Apparently 24 (though he barely looked 20), Justin had just returned to Pittsburgh after going to college and working for a few years in NYC. He had a new job working at some art gallery that Linds got all a-flutter over, and this had been his first night out since moving in to his apartment.
"When I saw the flyers," he explained, "I had to come. Proposition 14's such a piece of bullshit."
"It's not fucking right is what it is," Deb agreed. "And even after what happened tonight..." she faltered. "I know my Mikey would attend another one right now if he could." Reaching out, Ben put a hand on her shoulder. They all sat in silence for a while, until Deb made a concerted effort to keep going and cleared her throat. "So, Justin, you have any family in Pittsburgh?"
He talked around the subject for a while, before admitting that his dad had thrown him out when he'd come out. Deb was appropriately horrified, and Justin continued his story. "I was able to stay with my best friend until I finished high school," he said. "Mom mostly sided with me, but things were fucked up with Dad and she had my little sister to worry about. I just wanted to get the fuck away from everything, so I went to art school in New York."
Brian frowned.
So did Deb. "Have you called your mom to let her know you're okay?"
"Uh, sure," he glanced away, "she was happy."
Brian frowned harder. Justin's story had the distinct smell of bullshit about it, but what the fuck did it matter if some kid didn't want to reveal his whole life story to a bunch of strangers?
The brief diversion over, time started dragging again. Eventually Mel and Linds had to leave so their babysitter could go home, and Brian couldn't really blame either one of them for wanting to get out of the hospital. They hugged everyone - well, just about everyone - and when it was Brian's turn he held Lindsay to him. "Give my kid a kiss for me."
Promising to return in the morning and asking them to call if anything changed, the munchers departed.
Feeling restless again, Brian headed towards the exit. "I need a smoke."
Not sure why, Brian nonetheless wasn't surprised when Justin stood outside the automatic doors with him.
"You got a spare?" Justin asked.
Shrugging, Brian took a drag on his own cigarette as he passed the pack and his lighter over. "Should you be smoking?" he asked, as he watched Justin light up.
"Probably not," he admitted, passing them back, blowing out a rush of smoke. "But fuck it. I'm already at a hospital. And after tonight, I fucking need it." He took another pull on the cigarette.
Brian almost found himself smirking, shoving the cigarettes and lighter into his pocket. "So," he began, "how exactly does an eighteen-year-old kid afford to move and go to college in New York?"
Justin bit back what was probably a grin. "You've never heard of a scholarship?"
"Really?" he asked, disbelieving. "I'm guessing your shit head of a dad worked a decent job. And they took that into consideration, and decided you didn't need financial assistance."
Justin studied him. "Are you a professional psychic or something? Because I have to tell you, you don't look the type."
Brian just shrugged, not exactly thrilled by the comparison to Mysterious Marilyn even if Justin's tone had been teasing. "You look like you come from money."
"Well lucky me," he rolled his eyes. "They weren't exactly rich, but they had enough. And yeah, I didn't get any help - at least from them. I had an accident the night of my prom, sued the fucker and got more than enough to pay for college."
A memory slammed to the front of Brian's brain. "You were the kid who got bashed."
"Shit," Justin replied, "you make me sound like Harry fucking Potter."
It'd been all over the news years ago. Gay high school kid taking his boyfriend to the prom, getting bashed afterward. Deb had been thrilled when the asshole had been found guilty. "Sorry - don't know what Harry Potter sounds like." Stubbing out his cigarette, he threw it into the small trash can obviously meant for cigarette disposal.
"Just as well," Justin said, finishing his own cigarette and doing the same. "The author's seriously overrated."
"So why the fuck did you come back?" Brian asked. "Why return to dismal old Pittsburgh?"
Jamming his hands into his back jean pockets, Justin thought it over. "It may not be as exciting, or...glamorous," Justin's lips twitched, and Brian understood why - for all its fame, New York could be a real cess pool. "But it's home. I missed it."
Clearly the guy was insane. Still running on instinct, Brian placed a hand against Justin's chest and started walking forward, pushing him back until Justin's back was against the side of the building. "You realise you're nuts."
"But I'm happy," Justin looked up at him, completely unfazed, his hands coming out of his pockets to rest on Brian's waist, "and that's all that matters."
"Guys."
Ben's voice. They both turned towards it.
"There's news."
TBC
Next Part
See part one for disclaimer/info. Some lines in this are lifted directly from the show. They belong to CowLip!
Lots of hugs and kisses to nel - thank you! Feedback would be great :)
*
Brian drove Deb to the hospital, following behind the ambulance that was carrying Mikey. She cried the entire way and rarely spoke which was just as well, because when she did speak it was fucking depressing.
"Do you think..." she sniffed. "Do you think it was a bomb?"
He so did not want to be having this fucking conversation. As it was he'd have to deal with all that shit later, and he really couldn't bring himself to give a fuck about the club right now, even if he did own it. "I don't know." But it had to be a bomb. Of course it was a bomb. It'd be too fucking coincidental - an accidental explosion on the very night they were holding a fundraiser to fight against a homophobic piece of legislation - to be anything else. Brian didn't need to hear police reports or investigative findings. It wouldn't be anything else.
"How could someone do that? Hate someone else so much?" Pointless fucking questions, and nothing any of them hadn't asked a thousand times before. "Try and kill my fucking kid?" She cried again, louder, and Brian couldn't fucking wait to get to the hospital.
He let her out when they arrived, grateful to have a few moments peace while he looked for parking.
In the waiting area Ben was sitting down, clasped hands resting against his mouth. Deb rushed towards Brian.
"Anything?" he asked.
"Not yet," she shook her head, swallowing anxiously. Brian hugged her.
More people started dribbling in. Mel and Linds arrived, reporting that that Justin guy had been fine. Other people he didn't know whose friends and loved ones had been injured; maybe worse. Brian felt like he was in the middle of a war zone. Still too many people and too much fucking blood.
Predictably, Deb started freaking out, pacing around hopelessly. "What if I lose him? What am I gonna do?"
Completely unexpectedly, Ben lost it, snapping at her. "You're not gonna lose him and this is not about you, so sit down."
Stunned, looking lost, for once Deb followed obediently and sat down, glancing around but obviously not really seeing anything. "I'm sorry. You're right."
Brian, for his part, had only been able to stand about restlessly. Running a hand through his hair. Taking a step forward, taking a step back. He fucking *hated* waiting; had never been any good at it. He'd much rather be doing something that just standing around uselessly.
Seeing movement, Brian glanced to the left and saw the doctor who'd been working on Mikey. Brian took two steps to get to him, and Ben was standing next to him in seconds. "Well?"
The doctor didn't pull any punches. "He's lost a lot of blood. Before we can do anything he needs a transfusion."
The answer seemed obvious. "Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?"
"Well, he's AB negative," he explained, "we're short on his type so we're checking other hospitals."
Brian looked towards Deb and when she shook her head to indicate she wasn't the same type, he started rolling up his left sleeve. "Okay, I'm O negative. That's the universal donor, right?"
Pausing awkwardly, the doctor scratched at his ear. "Are you gay?"
What the fuck? "What's that got to do with anything?"
Ben looked towards him sombrely. "We can't give blood because of HIV."
Jesus Christ. "I don't *have* HIV."
"It doesn't matter," the doctor said apologetically. "Gays are considered too high a risk." He moved to turn away.
No fucking way. That wasn't good enough. Reaching out, Brian grabbed his arm. "What about all the straight studs and bitches who fuck around without protection? I mean, you'd take their blood, right?" The fucking hypocrisy was mind-blowing.
He shook his head. "It's an FDA regulation. I'm sorry." Pulling his arm free, he walked away.
Mel of all people tried to calm him down. "Brian..."
"I don't give a shit!" Brian tried to run after him, to get the fucker to listen, but Ben stood in front of him and blocked his path. "Take my blood, mother fucker!"
"Brian, look!" Ben tried to reason, pushing him back. "You couldn't give even if you were straight. You had cancer."
Cancer. Fuck. Fucking cancer. It was bad enough that it'd taken one of his balls; now it was stopping him from helping his best friend. "Fuck!" Whirling away, he started heading somewhere - anywhere. Just fucking away.
"Brian!"
"Leave him," someone said, and Brian was fucking glad for it.
When he reached the bathroom he suddenly turned towards it and banged the door open, striding inside. Three stalls, all empty, and when Brian turned towards the mirror he realised he looked almost as bad as Mikey had. Running the taps, he cupped the water in his hands and rubbed roughly at his face, watching the dirty water mix with the clean no matter how many times he did it, again and again, he just couldn't get fucking-
The door creaked open and he turned his head towards it, water running down his neck and soaking into his shirt. It was the guy - Christ, under better lighting he looked like little more than a kid - from the club.
"Hey," Justin said, still holding the door open. "I saw you come in here and..." He must have taken in the way Brian looked, and his expression dropped. "Oh, fuck. Is your friend...?"
"He's alive," Brian replied hoarsely, turning off the water and reaching to the side for a paper towel, yanking it out of the dispenser and giving his face a perfunctory dry before throwing the paper into the trash. "Lost a lot of blood. Waiting on a transfusion." Brian wasn't a big fan of talking to strangers because he generally wasn't interested in anything they had to say. But this Justin had been there. Maybe even saved Mikey's life.
"What blood type is he?" Justin asked, stepping in further and letting the door close behind him.
Brian knew where this was going. "Doesn't matter. You're queer, right?" For one, he'd been at Babylon, and Brian's gaydar was pinging so hard he'd probably never stop hearing it. "Queers can never have the joy of sharing our blood with others. They think we all have HIV and, therefore, we're too big a risk."
Justin's face transformed into outright indignation. "But that's *bullshit*! Fuck, do they even know the statistics? Christ, what about straight people who have sex? They'd take their fucking blood, no questions asked."
Brian suspected he had a gay, miniature version of Debbie on his hands. Perfect. "Believe me, I told them that already." Justin continued to fume. Brian continued to watch him. "So what the fuck are you doing here, anyway?"
He looked surprised for a moment. "The hospital?" Justin shrugged. "They suggested I come in, just to make sure I was really okay, nothing else was wrong. Seemed like a good idea and..." he smiled a little. "Frankly, I wanted to see how your friend was doing. This whole night's been so fucked up. I'm just hoping that something good comes out of it."
No reason he couldn't tag along. Besides, Debbie'd wanna meet him. "And you're all right?"
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine."
Brian nodded. It would've been really shitty if the guy who'd helped Mikey ended up dying. "Good. Let's go meet the gang."
When they got back to the waiting area, it didn't take long for Brian to discover he'd been right about Debbie's reaction. "This is Justin," he introduced, pointing a thumb towards him, "he was the one helping Mikey in the club."
"Oh!" Deb was on her feet instantly, rushing towards Justin and pulling him into a hug. Brian almost felt sorry for him. "Oh my God, thank you, thank you so much for helping my son."
Justin handled it with remarkable restraint, although he still looked kind of stunned. "It's okay, really. Anyone would've done the same."
"You're an angel," Deb told him, still holding on tight, "a fucking angel! Fuck knows how long it would've taken them to find him in there - he could've bled to death! Christ, I don't know what I'd do if..." She started welling up again, and Mel and Linds managed to coax her into sitting down.
Ben approached Justin, holding out a hand. "I, uh...didn't get a chance to thank you. Before. Thanks."
"Don't worry about it," Justin smiled, shaking his hand. "I know how I'd feel in your position."
After releasing each others hands they stood there for a few moments awkwardly, before Ben nodded and moved back to his seat. Linds invited Justin to sit down next to her, and they greeted each other as cheerily as they could, obviously recognising each other.
It probably helped, having an unknown there. Linds and Mel started asking him questions - what he did, what his background was - and they all listened. Fuck, there was nothing else to do, and it was better than just waiting. Apparently 24 (though he barely looked 20), Justin had just returned to Pittsburgh after going to college and working for a few years in NYC. He had a new job working at some art gallery that Linds got all a-flutter over, and this had been his first night out since moving in to his apartment.
"When I saw the flyers," he explained, "I had to come. Proposition 14's such a piece of bullshit."
"It's not fucking right is what it is," Deb agreed. "And even after what happened tonight..." she faltered. "I know my Mikey would attend another one right now if he could." Reaching out, Ben put a hand on her shoulder. They all sat in silence for a while, until Deb made a concerted effort to keep going and cleared her throat. "So, Justin, you have any family in Pittsburgh?"
He talked around the subject for a while, before admitting that his dad had thrown him out when he'd come out. Deb was appropriately horrified, and Justin continued his story. "I was able to stay with my best friend until I finished high school," he said. "Mom mostly sided with me, but things were fucked up with Dad and she had my little sister to worry about. I just wanted to get the fuck away from everything, so I went to art school in New York."
Brian frowned.
So did Deb. "Have you called your mom to let her know you're okay?"
"Uh, sure," he glanced away, "she was happy."
Brian frowned harder. Justin's story had the distinct smell of bullshit about it, but what the fuck did it matter if some kid didn't want to reveal his whole life story to a bunch of strangers?
The brief diversion over, time started dragging again. Eventually Mel and Linds had to leave so their babysitter could go home, and Brian couldn't really blame either one of them for wanting to get out of the hospital. They hugged everyone - well, just about everyone - and when it was Brian's turn he held Lindsay to him. "Give my kid a kiss for me."
Promising to return in the morning and asking them to call if anything changed, the munchers departed.
Feeling restless again, Brian headed towards the exit. "I need a smoke."
Not sure why, Brian nonetheless wasn't surprised when Justin stood outside the automatic doors with him.
"You got a spare?" Justin asked.
Shrugging, Brian took a drag on his own cigarette as he passed the pack and his lighter over. "Should you be smoking?" he asked, as he watched Justin light up.
"Probably not," he admitted, passing them back, blowing out a rush of smoke. "But fuck it. I'm already at a hospital. And after tonight, I fucking need it." He took another pull on the cigarette.
Brian almost found himself smirking, shoving the cigarettes and lighter into his pocket. "So," he began, "how exactly does an eighteen-year-old kid afford to move and go to college in New York?"
Justin bit back what was probably a grin. "You've never heard of a scholarship?"
"Really?" he asked, disbelieving. "I'm guessing your shit head of a dad worked a decent job. And they took that into consideration, and decided you didn't need financial assistance."
Justin studied him. "Are you a professional psychic or something? Because I have to tell you, you don't look the type."
Brian just shrugged, not exactly thrilled by the comparison to Mysterious Marilyn even if Justin's tone had been teasing. "You look like you come from money."
"Well lucky me," he rolled his eyes. "They weren't exactly rich, but they had enough. And yeah, I didn't get any help - at least from them. I had an accident the night of my prom, sued the fucker and got more than enough to pay for college."
A memory slammed to the front of Brian's brain. "You were the kid who got bashed."
"Shit," Justin replied, "you make me sound like Harry fucking Potter."
It'd been all over the news years ago. Gay high school kid taking his boyfriend to the prom, getting bashed afterward. Deb had been thrilled when the asshole had been found guilty. "Sorry - don't know what Harry Potter sounds like." Stubbing out his cigarette, he threw it into the small trash can obviously meant for cigarette disposal.
"Just as well," Justin said, finishing his own cigarette and doing the same. "The author's seriously overrated."
"So why the fuck did you come back?" Brian asked. "Why return to dismal old Pittsburgh?"
Jamming his hands into his back jean pockets, Justin thought it over. "It may not be as exciting, or...glamorous," Justin's lips twitched, and Brian understood why - for all its fame, New York could be a real cess pool. "But it's home. I missed it."
Clearly the guy was insane. Still running on instinct, Brian placed a hand against Justin's chest and started walking forward, pushing him back until Justin's back was against the side of the building. "You realise you're nuts."
"But I'm happy," Justin looked up at him, completely unfazed, his hands coming out of his pockets to rest on Brian's waist, "and that's all that matters."
"Guys."
Ben's voice. They both turned towards it.
"There's news."
TBC
Next Part