NEW QAF/SPN FIC: Strange and Untrue, Rated R, 5/5
I fiddled with some aspects of the Supernatural universe in this story - but that's totally my right, right? ;D You don't need to watch Supernatural to read this, although you'd probably get a little more out of it if you did.
I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who decided to take a chance on this, whether you decided a fusion fic was your kind of story or not. Thank you so much! :)
Warnings and disclaimers in Part 0. The fic starts in Part 1.
Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
*
"I'll be back. And you'll come there, we're gonna see each other all the time."
"You don't know that. Neither do I. Whether we see each other next week, next month, never again - it doesn't matter. It's only time."
- Queer as Folk
*
It didn't take long to track her down. Unsurprisingly, there still weren't many cross dressing fortune tellers residing in Pittsburgh.
Marilyn still lived near Liberty Avenue and when Justin buzzed her apartment, she didn't say anything through the speaker; simply buzzed him up. On his way up the stairs Justin briefly wondered if she'd been expecting someone - and then remembered who he was dealing with.
By the time he reached the third floor she was standing in the doorway to her apartment, and it was clear time hadn't been as kind to her as it'd been to Brian. She'd plainly tried to do what she could - she clearly worked out, the wig was new, and she had enough make-up on her face to plaster a wall - but she was *old* and there was no getting past that now.
As if reading his mind - and who knew? Maybe she actually could - she looked him up and down, before gesturing inside her apartment. "Do you know how many people would kill to look like that after twenty years?"
"They're welcome to it," Justin replied, following her in and glancing around, "I'd rather take twenty years of wrinkles and weight gain." Her apartment was an interesting experience - jammed full of contrasting colours, knick knacks and things Justin couldn't even identify. The door clicked shut behind him, and he turned to face her. Straight to business. "If you knew I was coming, you probably know what I was coming for."
Sighing, expression dropping, she nodded towards the sofa. "Have a seat, sweetheart. I'll be right back."
Justin had barely taken a seat when she came back, sitting next to him and resting a large stack of books on her legs.
Gaze moving over the pile of books - they were all old, some bound in leather, some not - he then fixed Marilyn with a steely glare. "I could read through all those - it'd probably take me days or weeks to find what I'm looking for, but I could do it. But I've already lost twenty *fucking* years," he hissed, remembering Brian's fingers digging desperately into his skin. Gus' grave. None of it was the way it should be. "Tell me what I need to know."
Marilyn didn't sigh, this time. Placing the books on the floor in front of her - grimacing some as she sat back up - she met his gaze just as directly. "I'll tell you exactly what you need to know." Her voice was firm, commanding. "Do you remember what I said about the demon who did this to you?"
"Of course." To him it was only a few days ago.
"It's all true," she said. "You can't reason with it; you can't cut a deal. You can't somehow get it to retroactively undo what it's done. Even if it could understand what you want, it's not within its power to give you those twenty years back."
He hadn't expected that to be possible, anyway. "Okay."
Reaching back to the books, she pulled one out from the middle of the pile. Opening it carefully, she flipped through the pages until she apparently found what she was looking for. Handing the open book over she placed it on Justin's lap, holding his gaze again as she continued to talk firmly. Seriously. "There's only one way to make this better for him, Justin. And it isn't much of a fix."
Swallowing, Justin looked down at the book and began to read.
It didn't take long. And it didn't take any time at all for Justin to know that he had no choice. What he'd thought just a few moments ago, and what he'd said to Gus earlier...maybe that hadn't been true. He'd hoped there might be something that would induce some kind of amnesia, maybe have Brian forget something. But the possibilities of this...
"If I..." The memory of kneeling at Gus' grave flashed through his mind again. "If I do this...Brian and Gus...they'll be okay?"
"There's no way to know," Marilyn told him frankly. "Even I can't see that outcome. But if you ask for the right thing, they'll both be alive. And Brian will never know that any of these things - hunters, demons, spells - are real."
Justin considered what she said. Remembered what she'd said two days ago. "Did you know Gus was going to die?"
"No, sweetheart," she said, with sincerity. "I didn't. I knew Brian would start hunting, but that was all."
Good. That was good. But back to the business at hand. "What if I ask for the wrong thing?"
"Then nothing will change. Or they'll change for the worse. Or," she shrugged, "you won't get the deal in the first place. You only get one chance to ask." She studied him for a few seconds, as if deciding something. "That's what happened to him."
Justin stared at her. There was only one 'him' she could be referring to. "Brian?" He waited while she nodded. "He said he came to see you. But he didn't say anything about..." Lowering his head, he rubbed his hands across the pages of the book.
"He didn't get the deal," she said softly.
Justin wondered at that. "What did he ask for?"
She lifted her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "What do you think he asked for?"
It didn't take much to figure it out. For all his bluster, Brian was the most self-sacrificing man Justin had ever met. "To swap places with me."
Marilyn nodded. "It was the wrong thing to ask for."
Biting his lip, Justin looked back down at the book. He knew Marilyn wasn't going to actually tell him what to ask for, but he knew that to get what he wanted...it was going to take more than asking to swap places.
A lot more.
Clearing his throat, his eyes fixed on the title of the left-hand page.
The Crossroads Demon.
*
Fingers clutching the box he was holding tightly between his hands, Justin slowly advanced towards the quiet intersection.
Marilyn had already had everything he needed - barring a photograph of himself, but he had that thanks to the ID Brian had given him. And then he'd driven here, out to what felt like the middle of nowhere, but was actually West Virginia. Marilyn had directed him to this specific crossroad - it was the same one Brian had used.
Reaching the middle of the crossroad, he stood in one spot and turned in a complete circle. No approaching traffic of any kind. No people. Nothing, in fact. It was still light out but dusk was starting to creep in, so Justin got down to work. Placing the box on the ground, he grabbed the light weight shovel he had tucked under his arm - something else that hadn't been around before he'd fallen asleep - and started digging.
The ground was dry and hard to dig into - Justin couldn't imagine that anyone had made a deal here since Brian - but even so, it didn't take long to dig a hole big enough to fit the box. Throwing the shovel to one side, Justin fell to his knees and placed the box in the freshly dug hole, trying not to think about what the fuck he was *doing*, dragging the disturbed earth on top of the box with his hands until the hole was filled up, patting at the small mound of earth and-
"I think you got it, honey."
Freezing for a moment, still on his knees, Justin turned his head to see a woman standing a few feet behind him. She was smirking.
No turning back now.
Staring back at the ground for a few seconds, Justin eventually pushed himself up and brushed his hands off on his jeans. Turning, he studied the woman who hadn't moved an inch since she'd appeared. She was beautiful in a way that made him think that she probably killed and ate her lovers after fucking them.
Did demons even have lovers?
Jesus, what a stupid ass question.
"You're the...Crossroads Demon?" he asked, wishing he didn't sound nervous. He wasn't really scared for himself anymore; this just...it had to work. It really, really had to work. Nothing could go wrong.
She smiled broadly, and when she tipped her head back slightly, her eyes turned black.
Completely black.
Fuck.
Well, that pretty much answered that question.
"Haven't seen one as desperate as you for a while," she taunted, sauntering closer and walking around Justin, inspecting him closely.
Justin felt like he was being mentally dissected but forced himself not to step away, letting her have her fill. It seemed like a good idea not to piss off the evil being from Hell who could give him the only thing he wanted.
By the time she stopped walking, standing in front of him, she acted like she recognised him - something that was confirmed by her words a few moments later. "Twenty years gone," she said in a voice that was plainly a mockery of sadness.
He'd had enough of standing quietly. "We can make a deal, right? That's what you do. I ask for something, you give it to me, and when I die-"
"I get your soul," she confirmed, smirking darkly.
"Right," he whispered. Right. He licked his lips. "The demon that made me sleep. You can't make it...focus on someone else back then." It wasn't a question.
She didn't look happy about admitting there was something she couldn't do, but eventually she replied. "Influencing one of my own kind is not within my purview. There are rules I'm not willing to break for anyone's soul."
Not what he'd been wanting to hear, but what he'd been expecting. Okay. "What if I hadn't been there? What if - for whatever reason - I hadn't existed? Or I had, but I died soon after the demon found me? Would he just...move on to someone else, and everything would be okay? He'd still get the sleep energy or whatever the fuck it is he wants, right? He, it, wouldn't lose out on anything, so everything would still work out for you guys."
The demon had gone quiet, and from the look on her face she'd figured out what he was planning. "Twenty years found," she said slowly, an equally slow smile appearing on her face.
At least they were both on the same page. "Can you do it?"
"Of course I can," she retorted, and Justin wondered if all demons had her ego. "It's bigger than most requests but nothing I can't handle, and getting your soul so quickly will be *delightful*. So - think carefully," she purred, "do you know exactly where you want to go back to?"
It was all he'd thought about on the drive here. "Yes."
"Good. Keep that in your mind." Tipping her head to one side, she regarded him closely. "Do we have a deal?"
A loud click surprised both of them, making then turn to see that someone else was now standing next to them, holding a gun to her head.
"No you *fucking* don't."
This could not be happening. Justin stared at him in disbelief. "Brian?"
The demon didn't seem impressed. "Is this supposed to be a trap, Brian?" she asked, nodding towards the gun. "Because that won't kill me."
"No, but it'll sting like fuck," Brian grinned mercilessly. "Lovely to see you again."
"Did you *follow* me?" Justin demanded hotly. Unfuckingbelievable.
Brian glanced at him briefly, before focusing back on the demon. "Marilyn gave me a call. You always were a stupid little twat. Selling your soul, Justin?"
"Like you're any different!" he argued, knowing that Brian had to have been at least relatively nearby to get there so quickly. "Tell me that you didn't stand here and try to do the *exact same thing*."
But he couldn't, and they all knew it.
When Brian had nothing to say, Justin tipped his chin up. "I have every right to be as much of a dumb ass as you."
Brian's lips twitched.
"This is *my* choice," Justin continued, "and you have no right to take it away from me."
Hand tightening on the gun, Brian breathed in and out heavily for a few seconds before cursing and turning away. "Fuck!"
The demon still looked distinctly unimpressed. "Are we doing this or not? I have someone I could be filleting."
"We are," Justin said, beginning to brush by her to get to Brian. "Just let me-"
"No," her voice was dark, and angry, and an unbelievably strong hand wrapped around his arm and held him in place. When he looked up at her face her eyes were black again. "If you're going to stand here wasting my time, I want assurances. I want the words."
Yes. Of course she did. For a moment he'd almost forgotten who he was dealing with. Forcing himself to meet her black eyes squarely, he spoke. "We have a deal."
As soon as he said the words Brian cursed again, loudly, and the demon's eyes instantly looked normal again. "I'll let you have your little farewell," she said, releasing his arm, "just don't take too long."
He took off at a sprint, catching up with Brian who'd started walking away. "Brian-"
"Do you have *any* idea what I've been through for the past twenty years?" Brian swung around, yelling. "The things I've done. The things I've seen. But it was for *you*," he spat at Justin, "it was always..." Brian swayed, falling to his knees.
Justin went with him, his arms going around him. "Brian!"
"You were going to wake up," Brian breathed, eyes wet. "With or without me, you were going to be here. It was all for fucking *you*."
"I know, I know," Justin tried to hush him, eyes wet with his own tears. "I love you, Brian - so much. That's why I have to do this. You won't...remember this. Any of this. You won't have to go through these twenty years the way you did. Your son will still be alive. Gus. Think about Gus. Knowing I could save him - I don't have any fucking choice! You could be...happy, Brian." God, right now he wanted that more than anything in the world.
"Happy?" he mocked, fixing Justin with an angry stare. "You'll be dead."
Justin sniffed. "But Gus will *live*. And you'll never know anything about this life, and the things like her. I'm not saying you'll be spinning cartwheels, but...after you grieve..."
"You think I'll ever stop?"
Why did Brian have to pick this as one of the only times in his life to be completely honest and open about his feelings? "Look, the situation is shitty any way you look at it. If I do nothing, Gus is dead, you've lived an unbelievably shitty twenty years, and you'll probably end up getting murdered by something that goes bump in the night. It's a miracle you've stayed alive this long. But...if I do this, Gus *lives*. You'll have a shitty few years and...maybe you'll never get over me," he tried to sound cocky, make a joke of it, but it wasn't working. "Maybe you'll spiral into a depression. Maybe you'll learn to live with it. Maybe you'll cope better than you think. And hopefully you'll die at the ripe old age of a hundred and two with your Viagra-powered dick up some twink's ass. You know they won't be able to resist you, even then," Justin managed a watery smile, and thought he saw one in return. "I never could."
"Time's up."
They both looked up to see the demon standing over them, completely unmoved by anything they'd been saying. It was almost dark.
Helping Brian to his feet, Justin threw his arms around him for the last time.
For the last time.
He'd made the deal. There was no getting out of it, now.
What the fuck was he *doing*? He'd made a deal with the devil and he was going to *die* and go to *hell* and-
"Brian!"
"It's okay, Sunshine," Brian shushed, and he'd always known how to use the right tone of voice or hold Justin in the right way to calm him down. And he may have been fifty-seven but he still felt like Brian; still smelt like him. In every essential way he was the same man he'd been twenty years ago.
Was the man Justin was doing this for.
Brian would be okay. Gus would be okay. That was all that mattered.
"You were wrong, you know."
"About what?" Justin sniffed, rubbing the side of his face against Brian's beard.
"There won't be any other twinks. Now, or at a hundred and two. You're it for me. You always were."
Shuddering, Justin stared at the sky over Brian's shoulder. "Night's coming."
Brian squeezed him tighter. "It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here. Close your eyes."
Taking a deep breath, Justin did just that.
*
THEN, REDUX
*
He almost drove off the road when he realised he was driving a car in the middle of the night. Trying to reorient himself without getting hit by anything, he did a quick visual inspection. This was his piece of shit car - without any dashboard enhancements or comfortable seats. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing the last time he'd headed for New York from Brian's. And his ass had that feeling it only ever had when Brian had been inside him recently.
Fuck. It'd worked. He was really *here*.
Justin's mind was all over the place, and he was almost too fucking grateful when he saw a sign for an upcoming rest stop. He could've pulled over on the shoulder, but didn't want to risk being seen by any passing cops.
He managed to keep it together for the next few minutes, mostly by thinking of nothing at all, focusing only on the technical movements of driving.
When he turned off the Turnpike and found a parking space, Justin put on the handbrake, turned off the engine and sat quietly for a few moments. Taking a breath, he forced his head up and looked around, recognising exactly where he was now, the gas station and fast food places eerily familiar. He'd driven the route from Pittsburgh to New York enough times. He - or the original him, anyway - had left Brian less than an hour ago.
His eyes fell to the cell phone sitting on the passenger seat - where he always left it when he was driving. And almost without thinking he had the phone in his hand and his fingers finding the first number he'd ever programmed into it.
When he picked up, Brian's voice was warm, teasing. "You miss my cock already?"
Swallowing hard, Justin could picture exactly how Brian must look in that moment - still laying in their rumpled bed, warm, relaxed, a small smile on his face that wasn't as rare as everyone thought. Nothing at all like the man he'd been twenty years from now. Overcoming the uncomfortable lump in his throat, he managed to force a word out. "Brian..."
A pause on the other end of the line - and then:
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Justin lied, wiping at his eyes with his free hand. "I just..." He had to say something. Something that had *meaning* because this was the last conversation they were ever going to have. "I was just thinking, and..." he took a shaky breath. "You know you're it for me, don't you?"
Brian's breath sounded heavy over the phone. "Justin, what the fuck are you-?"
"You're *it*," he interrupted, because it was just like Brian to not shut up and just listen when Justin was trying to talk to him for the last time. "I know...even now...with all the shit you went through as a kid, everything you've been through as an adult..." Justin's voice drifted off as a few drops of rain started to splatter on the windshield.
Just like it did the first time.
"...when I fucked up and left you for Ethan," he continued quickly, "fuck, even our age differences. Sometimes you think I'll move on. To someone else. Something else. Something better. But there is nothing better," Justin insisted, "not for me. You can make me more fucking angry than anyone in the entire fucking world, you're seriously fucking messed up - but so am I, Brian. What I want," Justin paused when his voice broke. It was getting harder and harder to get coherent words out. "What I want more than anything in the world is to live out the rest of my life with you." God, this was so fucking unfair. "And none of this different cities shit. As long as we're together the way we're supposed to be, I don't care where the fuck we live. You're it," he finally finished, feeling breathless and out of control. "You're it for me."
Brian was silent for a long time. Until...
"You're freaking me the fuck out."
Justin laughed, or tried to. It came out sounding suspiciously like something else. "It's okay," he lied, and he had a feeling they both knew it. "Everything's okay. I was just thinking about it and I needed to talk to you. Before you went to sleep. You know what a princess I can be," he tried to tease.
"Maybe you should come back," Brian suggested, clearly confused and worried, and Justin didn't even need to close his eyes to picture himself in the rumpled bed next to Brian, laughing and smiling, his mind full of a thousand memories of a thousand nights of doing exactly that.
That was the image he was going to take with him.
"I love you," he rasped, abruptly ending the call and throwing the phone into the back seat. Fuck, the call had been a bad idea. When Brian heard the news and remembered the call...but, no, no. He'd be fucked up for a while. But he wouldn't know anything about demons or hunting - would never know anything about demons or hunting. Gus wouldn't be killed.
By now the rain had transformed into a constant drumming on the roof and windshield of his car. Starting the engine, Justin turned on the wipers. Gripping the steering wheel of the car, he sat there, staring through the rain at misshapen colours and lights, until the ringing of his cell phone prompted him into action.
Traffic was still light so he pulled back onto the Turnpike without a problem. Sniffing heavily, his face a mess of tears and snot, for a moment Justin struggled to breath through the clawing emotion in his throat. This was not the way things were supposed to be! He should have a thousand - a million - more nights with Brian. This'd all happened so fucking fast, and they were supposed to be happy in their own fucked-up way forever.
But then he thought about Brian. And Gus. And what would happen if he didn't do this - two lives destroyed, really. More, with what it did to Mel and Linds. This had to happen now, before the demon really got a hold of him, before Brian ever heard anything about Justin not sleeping well.
It wasn't the way things were supposed to be, but the way things had to be. This was the only time, the only way, he would never go back to Brian.
No choice.
Shifting in his seat, opening and closing his fingers on the steering wheel, Justin sniffed again and held an image in his mind.
Turned off the wipers.
Unbuckled his seat belt.
Put his foot down on the gas.
And closed his eyes.
~FINIS
I'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who decided to take a chance on this, whether you decided a fusion fic was your kind of story or not. Thank you so much! :)
Warnings and disclaimers in Part 0. The fic starts in Part 1.
Part 0, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.
*
"I'll be back. And you'll come there, we're gonna see each other all the time."
"You don't know that. Neither do I. Whether we see each other next week, next month, never again - it doesn't matter. It's only time."
- Queer as Folk
*
It didn't take long to track her down. Unsurprisingly, there still weren't many cross dressing fortune tellers residing in Pittsburgh.
Marilyn still lived near Liberty Avenue and when Justin buzzed her apartment, she didn't say anything through the speaker; simply buzzed him up. On his way up the stairs Justin briefly wondered if she'd been expecting someone - and then remembered who he was dealing with.
By the time he reached the third floor she was standing in the doorway to her apartment, and it was clear time hadn't been as kind to her as it'd been to Brian. She'd plainly tried to do what she could - she clearly worked out, the wig was new, and she had enough make-up on her face to plaster a wall - but she was *old* and there was no getting past that now.
As if reading his mind - and who knew? Maybe she actually could - she looked him up and down, before gesturing inside her apartment. "Do you know how many people would kill to look like that after twenty years?"
"They're welcome to it," Justin replied, following her in and glancing around, "I'd rather take twenty years of wrinkles and weight gain." Her apartment was an interesting experience - jammed full of contrasting colours, knick knacks and things Justin couldn't even identify. The door clicked shut behind him, and he turned to face her. Straight to business. "If you knew I was coming, you probably know what I was coming for."
Sighing, expression dropping, she nodded towards the sofa. "Have a seat, sweetheart. I'll be right back."
Justin had barely taken a seat when she came back, sitting next to him and resting a large stack of books on her legs.
Gaze moving over the pile of books - they were all old, some bound in leather, some not - he then fixed Marilyn with a steely glare. "I could read through all those - it'd probably take me days or weeks to find what I'm looking for, but I could do it. But I've already lost twenty *fucking* years," he hissed, remembering Brian's fingers digging desperately into his skin. Gus' grave. None of it was the way it should be. "Tell me what I need to know."
Marilyn didn't sigh, this time. Placing the books on the floor in front of her - grimacing some as she sat back up - she met his gaze just as directly. "I'll tell you exactly what you need to know." Her voice was firm, commanding. "Do you remember what I said about the demon who did this to you?"
"Of course." To him it was only a few days ago.
"It's all true," she said. "You can't reason with it; you can't cut a deal. You can't somehow get it to retroactively undo what it's done. Even if it could understand what you want, it's not within its power to give you those twenty years back."
He hadn't expected that to be possible, anyway. "Okay."
Reaching back to the books, she pulled one out from the middle of the pile. Opening it carefully, she flipped through the pages until she apparently found what she was looking for. Handing the open book over she placed it on Justin's lap, holding his gaze again as she continued to talk firmly. Seriously. "There's only one way to make this better for him, Justin. And it isn't much of a fix."
Swallowing, Justin looked down at the book and began to read.
It didn't take long. And it didn't take any time at all for Justin to know that he had no choice. What he'd thought just a few moments ago, and what he'd said to Gus earlier...maybe that hadn't been true. He'd hoped there might be something that would induce some kind of amnesia, maybe have Brian forget something. But the possibilities of this...
"If I..." The memory of kneeling at Gus' grave flashed through his mind again. "If I do this...Brian and Gus...they'll be okay?"
"There's no way to know," Marilyn told him frankly. "Even I can't see that outcome. But if you ask for the right thing, they'll both be alive. And Brian will never know that any of these things - hunters, demons, spells - are real."
Justin considered what she said. Remembered what she'd said two days ago. "Did you know Gus was going to die?"
"No, sweetheart," she said, with sincerity. "I didn't. I knew Brian would start hunting, but that was all."
Good. That was good. But back to the business at hand. "What if I ask for the wrong thing?"
"Then nothing will change. Or they'll change for the worse. Or," she shrugged, "you won't get the deal in the first place. You only get one chance to ask." She studied him for a few seconds, as if deciding something. "That's what happened to him."
Justin stared at her. There was only one 'him' she could be referring to. "Brian?" He waited while she nodded. "He said he came to see you. But he didn't say anything about..." Lowering his head, he rubbed his hands across the pages of the book.
"He didn't get the deal," she said softly.
Justin wondered at that. "What did he ask for?"
She lifted her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "What do you think he asked for?"
It didn't take much to figure it out. For all his bluster, Brian was the most self-sacrificing man Justin had ever met. "To swap places with me."
Marilyn nodded. "It was the wrong thing to ask for."
Biting his lip, Justin looked back down at the book. He knew Marilyn wasn't going to actually tell him what to ask for, but he knew that to get what he wanted...it was going to take more than asking to swap places.
A lot more.
Clearing his throat, his eyes fixed on the title of the left-hand page.
The Crossroads Demon.
*
Fingers clutching the box he was holding tightly between his hands, Justin slowly advanced towards the quiet intersection.
Marilyn had already had everything he needed - barring a photograph of himself, but he had that thanks to the ID Brian had given him. And then he'd driven here, out to what felt like the middle of nowhere, but was actually West Virginia. Marilyn had directed him to this specific crossroad - it was the same one Brian had used.
Reaching the middle of the crossroad, he stood in one spot and turned in a complete circle. No approaching traffic of any kind. No people. Nothing, in fact. It was still light out but dusk was starting to creep in, so Justin got down to work. Placing the box on the ground, he grabbed the light weight shovel he had tucked under his arm - something else that hadn't been around before he'd fallen asleep - and started digging.
The ground was dry and hard to dig into - Justin couldn't imagine that anyone had made a deal here since Brian - but even so, it didn't take long to dig a hole big enough to fit the box. Throwing the shovel to one side, Justin fell to his knees and placed the box in the freshly dug hole, trying not to think about what the fuck he was *doing*, dragging the disturbed earth on top of the box with his hands until the hole was filled up, patting at the small mound of earth and-
"I think you got it, honey."
Freezing for a moment, still on his knees, Justin turned his head to see a woman standing a few feet behind him. She was smirking.
No turning back now.
Staring back at the ground for a few seconds, Justin eventually pushed himself up and brushed his hands off on his jeans. Turning, he studied the woman who hadn't moved an inch since she'd appeared. She was beautiful in a way that made him think that she probably killed and ate her lovers after fucking them.
Did demons even have lovers?
Jesus, what a stupid ass question.
"You're the...Crossroads Demon?" he asked, wishing he didn't sound nervous. He wasn't really scared for himself anymore; this just...it had to work. It really, really had to work. Nothing could go wrong.
She smiled broadly, and when she tipped her head back slightly, her eyes turned black.
Completely black.
Fuck.
Well, that pretty much answered that question.
"Haven't seen one as desperate as you for a while," she taunted, sauntering closer and walking around Justin, inspecting him closely.
Justin felt like he was being mentally dissected but forced himself not to step away, letting her have her fill. It seemed like a good idea not to piss off the evil being from Hell who could give him the only thing he wanted.
By the time she stopped walking, standing in front of him, she acted like she recognised him - something that was confirmed by her words a few moments later. "Twenty years gone," she said in a voice that was plainly a mockery of sadness.
He'd had enough of standing quietly. "We can make a deal, right? That's what you do. I ask for something, you give it to me, and when I die-"
"I get your soul," she confirmed, smirking darkly.
"Right," he whispered. Right. He licked his lips. "The demon that made me sleep. You can't make it...focus on someone else back then." It wasn't a question.
She didn't look happy about admitting there was something she couldn't do, but eventually she replied. "Influencing one of my own kind is not within my purview. There are rules I'm not willing to break for anyone's soul."
Not what he'd been wanting to hear, but what he'd been expecting. Okay. "What if I hadn't been there? What if - for whatever reason - I hadn't existed? Or I had, but I died soon after the demon found me? Would he just...move on to someone else, and everything would be okay? He'd still get the sleep energy or whatever the fuck it is he wants, right? He, it, wouldn't lose out on anything, so everything would still work out for you guys."
The demon had gone quiet, and from the look on her face she'd figured out what he was planning. "Twenty years found," she said slowly, an equally slow smile appearing on her face.
At least they were both on the same page. "Can you do it?"
"Of course I can," she retorted, and Justin wondered if all demons had her ego. "It's bigger than most requests but nothing I can't handle, and getting your soul so quickly will be *delightful*. So - think carefully," she purred, "do you know exactly where you want to go back to?"
It was all he'd thought about on the drive here. "Yes."
"Good. Keep that in your mind." Tipping her head to one side, she regarded him closely. "Do we have a deal?"
A loud click surprised both of them, making then turn to see that someone else was now standing next to them, holding a gun to her head.
"No you *fucking* don't."
This could not be happening. Justin stared at him in disbelief. "Brian?"
The demon didn't seem impressed. "Is this supposed to be a trap, Brian?" she asked, nodding towards the gun. "Because that won't kill me."
"No, but it'll sting like fuck," Brian grinned mercilessly. "Lovely to see you again."
"Did you *follow* me?" Justin demanded hotly. Unfuckingbelievable.
Brian glanced at him briefly, before focusing back on the demon. "Marilyn gave me a call. You always were a stupid little twat. Selling your soul, Justin?"
"Like you're any different!" he argued, knowing that Brian had to have been at least relatively nearby to get there so quickly. "Tell me that you didn't stand here and try to do the *exact same thing*."
But he couldn't, and they all knew it.
When Brian had nothing to say, Justin tipped his chin up. "I have every right to be as much of a dumb ass as you."
Brian's lips twitched.
"This is *my* choice," Justin continued, "and you have no right to take it away from me."
Hand tightening on the gun, Brian breathed in and out heavily for a few seconds before cursing and turning away. "Fuck!"
The demon still looked distinctly unimpressed. "Are we doing this or not? I have someone I could be filleting."
"We are," Justin said, beginning to brush by her to get to Brian. "Just let me-"
"No," her voice was dark, and angry, and an unbelievably strong hand wrapped around his arm and held him in place. When he looked up at her face her eyes were black again. "If you're going to stand here wasting my time, I want assurances. I want the words."
Yes. Of course she did. For a moment he'd almost forgotten who he was dealing with. Forcing himself to meet her black eyes squarely, he spoke. "We have a deal."
As soon as he said the words Brian cursed again, loudly, and the demon's eyes instantly looked normal again. "I'll let you have your little farewell," she said, releasing his arm, "just don't take too long."
He took off at a sprint, catching up with Brian who'd started walking away. "Brian-"
"Do you have *any* idea what I've been through for the past twenty years?" Brian swung around, yelling. "The things I've done. The things I've seen. But it was for *you*," he spat at Justin, "it was always..." Brian swayed, falling to his knees.
Justin went with him, his arms going around him. "Brian!"
"You were going to wake up," Brian breathed, eyes wet. "With or without me, you were going to be here. It was all for fucking *you*."
"I know, I know," Justin tried to hush him, eyes wet with his own tears. "I love you, Brian - so much. That's why I have to do this. You won't...remember this. Any of this. You won't have to go through these twenty years the way you did. Your son will still be alive. Gus. Think about Gus. Knowing I could save him - I don't have any fucking choice! You could be...happy, Brian." God, right now he wanted that more than anything in the world.
"Happy?" he mocked, fixing Justin with an angry stare. "You'll be dead."
Justin sniffed. "But Gus will *live*. And you'll never know anything about this life, and the things like her. I'm not saying you'll be spinning cartwheels, but...after you grieve..."
"You think I'll ever stop?"
Why did Brian have to pick this as one of the only times in his life to be completely honest and open about his feelings? "Look, the situation is shitty any way you look at it. If I do nothing, Gus is dead, you've lived an unbelievably shitty twenty years, and you'll probably end up getting murdered by something that goes bump in the night. It's a miracle you've stayed alive this long. But...if I do this, Gus *lives*. You'll have a shitty few years and...maybe you'll never get over me," he tried to sound cocky, make a joke of it, but it wasn't working. "Maybe you'll spiral into a depression. Maybe you'll learn to live with it. Maybe you'll cope better than you think. And hopefully you'll die at the ripe old age of a hundred and two with your Viagra-powered dick up some twink's ass. You know they won't be able to resist you, even then," Justin managed a watery smile, and thought he saw one in return. "I never could."
"Time's up."
They both looked up to see the demon standing over them, completely unmoved by anything they'd been saying. It was almost dark.
Helping Brian to his feet, Justin threw his arms around him for the last time.
For the last time.
He'd made the deal. There was no getting out of it, now.
What the fuck was he *doing*? He'd made a deal with the devil and he was going to *die* and go to *hell* and-
"Brian!"
"It's okay, Sunshine," Brian shushed, and he'd always known how to use the right tone of voice or hold Justin in the right way to calm him down. And he may have been fifty-seven but he still felt like Brian; still smelt like him. In every essential way he was the same man he'd been twenty years ago.
Was the man Justin was doing this for.
Brian would be okay. Gus would be okay. That was all that mattered.
"You were wrong, you know."
"About what?" Justin sniffed, rubbing the side of his face against Brian's beard.
"There won't be any other twinks. Now, or at a hundred and two. You're it for me. You always were."
Shuddering, Justin stared at the sky over Brian's shoulder. "Night's coming."
Brian squeezed him tighter. "It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here. Close your eyes."
Taking a deep breath, Justin did just that.
*
THEN, REDUX
*
He almost drove off the road when he realised he was driving a car in the middle of the night. Trying to reorient himself without getting hit by anything, he did a quick visual inspection. This was his piece of shit car - without any dashboard enhancements or comfortable seats. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing the last time he'd headed for New York from Brian's. And his ass had that feeling it only ever had when Brian had been inside him recently.
Fuck. It'd worked. He was really *here*.
Justin's mind was all over the place, and he was almost too fucking grateful when he saw a sign for an upcoming rest stop. He could've pulled over on the shoulder, but didn't want to risk being seen by any passing cops.
He managed to keep it together for the next few minutes, mostly by thinking of nothing at all, focusing only on the technical movements of driving.
When he turned off the Turnpike and found a parking space, Justin put on the handbrake, turned off the engine and sat quietly for a few moments. Taking a breath, he forced his head up and looked around, recognising exactly where he was now, the gas station and fast food places eerily familiar. He'd driven the route from Pittsburgh to New York enough times. He - or the original him, anyway - had left Brian less than an hour ago.
His eyes fell to the cell phone sitting on the passenger seat - where he always left it when he was driving. And almost without thinking he had the phone in his hand and his fingers finding the first number he'd ever programmed into it.
When he picked up, Brian's voice was warm, teasing. "You miss my cock already?"
Swallowing hard, Justin could picture exactly how Brian must look in that moment - still laying in their rumpled bed, warm, relaxed, a small smile on his face that wasn't as rare as everyone thought. Nothing at all like the man he'd been twenty years from now. Overcoming the uncomfortable lump in his throat, he managed to force a word out. "Brian..."
A pause on the other end of the line - and then:
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Justin lied, wiping at his eyes with his free hand. "I just..." He had to say something. Something that had *meaning* because this was the last conversation they were ever going to have. "I was just thinking, and..." he took a shaky breath. "You know you're it for me, don't you?"
Brian's breath sounded heavy over the phone. "Justin, what the fuck are you-?"
"You're *it*," he interrupted, because it was just like Brian to not shut up and just listen when Justin was trying to talk to him for the last time. "I know...even now...with all the shit you went through as a kid, everything you've been through as an adult..." Justin's voice drifted off as a few drops of rain started to splatter on the windshield.
Just like it did the first time.
"...when I fucked up and left you for Ethan," he continued quickly, "fuck, even our age differences. Sometimes you think I'll move on. To someone else. Something else. Something better. But there is nothing better," Justin insisted, "not for me. You can make me more fucking angry than anyone in the entire fucking world, you're seriously fucking messed up - but so am I, Brian. What I want," Justin paused when his voice broke. It was getting harder and harder to get coherent words out. "What I want more than anything in the world is to live out the rest of my life with you." God, this was so fucking unfair. "And none of this different cities shit. As long as we're together the way we're supposed to be, I don't care where the fuck we live. You're it," he finally finished, feeling breathless and out of control. "You're it for me."
Brian was silent for a long time. Until...
"You're freaking me the fuck out."
Justin laughed, or tried to. It came out sounding suspiciously like something else. "It's okay," he lied, and he had a feeling they both knew it. "Everything's okay. I was just thinking about it and I needed to talk to you. Before you went to sleep. You know what a princess I can be," he tried to tease.
"Maybe you should come back," Brian suggested, clearly confused and worried, and Justin didn't even need to close his eyes to picture himself in the rumpled bed next to Brian, laughing and smiling, his mind full of a thousand memories of a thousand nights of doing exactly that.
That was the image he was going to take with him.
"I love you," he rasped, abruptly ending the call and throwing the phone into the back seat. Fuck, the call had been a bad idea. When Brian heard the news and remembered the call...but, no, no. He'd be fucked up for a while. But he wouldn't know anything about demons or hunting - would never know anything about demons or hunting. Gus wouldn't be killed.
By now the rain had transformed into a constant drumming on the roof and windshield of his car. Starting the engine, Justin turned on the wipers. Gripping the steering wheel of the car, he sat there, staring through the rain at misshapen colours and lights, until the ringing of his cell phone prompted him into action.
Traffic was still light so he pulled back onto the Turnpike without a problem. Sniffing heavily, his face a mess of tears and snot, for a moment Justin struggled to breath through the clawing emotion in his throat. This was not the way things were supposed to be! He should have a thousand - a million - more nights with Brian. This'd all happened so fucking fast, and they were supposed to be happy in their own fucked-up way forever.
But then he thought about Brian. And Gus. And what would happen if he didn't do this - two lives destroyed, really. More, with what it did to Mel and Linds. This had to happen now, before the demon really got a hold of him, before Brian ever heard anything about Justin not sleeping well.
It wasn't the way things were supposed to be, but the way things had to be. This was the only time, the only way, he would never go back to Brian.
No choice.
Shifting in his seat, opening and closing his fingers on the steering wheel, Justin sniffed again and held an image in his mind.
Turned off the wipers.
Unbuckled his seat belt.
Put his foot down on the gas.
And closed his eyes.
~FINIS