As promised ... part two
It's not exactly been beta'd, so please forgive any errors. I take all the blame, but I promised it would be up this weekend, and it's Sunday night here now.
Oh, and if you're looking for Part One, it's here (slightly tweaked to fix up lines I wasn't entirely happy with - no real changes):
Never Have, Never Will - Part One
So without more ado here it is ...
Never Have, Never Will: Part Two
*****
Emmett brought his eyes to Justin’s horrified face.
“Michael’s mother works at the Liberty Diner,” he said, his voice hardening a little. “And she’s never stopped blaming Brian. Even though all the experts and all the witnesses, including the ambulance guys, said it was really clear what had happened, she still insisted that either Brian had outright killed Michael, or else he’d somehow forced Michael into a suicide pact and then he’d backed out of it.”
Justin swallowed hard to stop himself being sick.
“That’s why Brian freaked out the other night, honey. He just doesn’t go near that place. He doesn’t go near Debbie.”
He sighed. “We none of us do, anymore. Well, Mel used to. But she would. She even tried to help Deb put together some sort of civil case against Brian, but finally even she had to admit that there was no evidence that he’d known anything about what Michael intended to do. I mean … Michael left the packets from the stuff he used at his mother’s, and they found the spoon he’d used to stir it into the pasta and everything, and Brian had all those defense wounds on his hands … but Debbie still believes that there’s no way her little angel could ever have done such a thing. So it has to be Brian’s fault.”
He sighed deeply. “Maybe if she’d ever learned to let Michael take responsibility for himself and not make everything about Brian then … who knows?”
“This happened at the loft?” Justin said, unable to force his voice above a whisper.
Emmett nodded. At the look on Justin’s face, he went on, “Honey, we all tried to persuade him to move. Everyone. Even Mel. But … “
He leaned forward, dropping his voice even lower, “Justin, if you ask me, I think Brian’s punishing himself. I think that he hates living there, hates being surrounded by all that, but that he thinks he deserves it because he let that happen to Michael.”
Justin leaned back in his chair for a moment, his mind whirling. That made sense. It fitted absolutely with what he knew of Brian. But, fucking Hell! What a nightmare it must have been for him - bad enough to go through that, but to live every day with those memories, in the place it happened … Fuck!
But Emmett hadn’t finished his revelations. As they both ordered much needed coffee and then added an order for brandy as well, he straightened himself in his chair.
“The thing is, honey,” he started seriously, then he stopped, and then started again, his voice taking on a note of desperation, “Honey, I know this sounds crazy. I know it. But Teddy and I talked about it and … Justin, we like you. And it’s obvious Brian likes you and … honey, we are so scared.”
Justin would have laughed, but there was nothing funny about the real horror Brian had been through, or the equally real fear in Emmett’s face.
He tried to summon up the words that would put Emmett’s fear into perspective without ridiculing it. In the face of the man’s sincerity he just couldn’t do that. But he surely couldn’t mean that … what? He was afraid of Michael? That didn’t make sense.
“Justin … I know it sounds crazy. But things happen at the loft. Bad things. They’ve happened to Brian, and now they’re starting to happen to you.”
Those words jolted Justin.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“Well, honey, like when you hurt …”
Justin shook his head dismissively. “Not me. What has happened to Brian?”
His voice sounded a little sharp, and Emmett, even in the midst of his worries, felt a little glow of warmth. He couldn’t help but smile at the young man who was more concerned about Brian than about his own safety. Then he sighed.
“The first Halloween after it happened, Brian was … Teddy and I were worried about him. So we kept an eye on him all night. We all went to Babylon, and Brian had quite a bit to drink, but nothing else, honey, I’m sure. We were watching him all night. He let Ted drive him home and I followed in Teddy’s car, and we got Brian upstairs. He was being … well, Brian. All ‘I don’t need you two pathetic faggots to tuck me in, go and get laid’ sort of stuff. But Ted and I are used to that, and we just ignored him.
“So we got him into bed and he was okay. We were a bit nervous about leaving him, but he was getting more and more pissed off, so we went down to Ted’s car and then Teddy realized he still had Brian’s keys. So he went back upstairs. He was just going to sneak into the loft and leave them. I mean, it had only been a few minutes since we’d left.
Emmett stopped and looked closely at the young man opposite.
“Honey - when Teddy walked in, Brian was … he was standing on a chair with a scarf tied around his neck, trying to throw the other end up over one of those beams.”
Justin stared at him.
“Teddy pulled him down, and Brian swore at him, but then Teddy said he looked around like he didn’t know where he was. Teddy called my cell and I came running up, and …” he shook his head. “Honey … Brian blustered and tried to bluff his way out of it, but the truth is … I don’t think he knew what he’d been doing. He didn’t seem to remember at all. In the end, we made him come back to Teddy’s, and … honey, he came with us with hardly a squeak out of him about it.”
Justin nodded to show he understood what that meant. Brian must have been really freaked.
Emmett sighed. “We never talked about it again - at least not with Brian. But the next year he took a business trip around that time, so he was away for Halloween. It wasn’t until after he got back that we found out that just before he left he’d tripped coming down the steps from the bedroom and could really have hurt himself except that he landed on his bags. As it was, he was really pissed because he damaged his Louis Vuitton suit holder.”
Justin was trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Trying to find the rational explanation that he knew there had to be.
But meanwhile Emmett was going on.
“The next year, I tried to get Brian to go away again, but … things had been going on and he was … he was involved in this election campaign, and he just refused to leave. Teddy was ... away at the time, so I stayed close to Brian and partied with him all night, and then at the end of the night I made sure he got home alright and I just didn’t leave. I settled down out on this futon he had at the time, and I must have drifted off to sleep, because all of a sudden I was jerking awake. I didn't know what had woken me up at the time, just that it was freezing.”
Justin stared at him, these words bringing vividly to his mind the memory of the intense cold he’d so often felt in the loft.
“Then I heard these horrible noises coming from the bedroom. I ran up the steps and Brian was lying on his back, choking. His face was going blue and … it was awful. Luckily, I'd done these first aid classes because - well, it doesn’t matter - but it meant that I knew what to do, so I managed to check Brian’s airway was clear and somehow I got him breathing normally again, then I pushed him into the recovery position and called an ambulance.
“They took him to the hospital, and tested him for drugs, because they thought he’d overdosed, but there was nothing in his system. The next day he was okay and no one ever figured out what had caused it, and Brian just wouldn’t talk about it.
“And …,” Emmett said, the frustration clear in his voice, “No matter what any of us has said, we’ve never been able to persuade him to move out of that horrible place.”
Emmett looked on the verge of tears now. But he took a deep breath and went on. “By last Halloween Teddy was working for Brian, so he managed to arrange a business trip that got him out of town at that time. But Halloween is this Wednesday, and honey …”
He looked at Justin and said with some dignity, “Justin, I know a lot of the time I seem like just a silly queen, but I come from down South where we know a little about these things, and I have to tell you, I’m scared. Because it’s getting worse. I mean … it’s always been creepy in there. And there’s the damned cold.”
“I kept telling myself it was drafts,” Justin said quietly, almost to himself.
Emmett gave him a sharp look.
“That’s what I mean, honey,” he said. “I think you being around has made it worse. It’s not just what has happened to you, although I don’t like that one little bit. But I’m really scared for Brian.”
“Well, maybe I can get him to come away with me for Halloween.”
Emmett shook his head. “Honey, I’m not sure that … whatever it is … will wait till Halloween.”
He swallowed hard and said, “I … that cut on Brian’s chin …”
Justin sat and looked at him, trying to fight off a feeling of panic.
“He cut himself shaving,” he said slowly.
Emmett met his gaze steadily. “Sweetie, in all the years I’ve known Brian Kinney I have never known him to cut himself shaving. Never.”
He grinned, sudden and unexpected. “He’s far too careful of that pretty face.”
An answering grin flashed across Justin’s face for a second, and then he sobered. He sat for a moment in thought, and Emmett, realizing with a profound sense of thankfulness that Justin wasn’t trying to laugh off the situation, was content to fall silent. He took a deep sip of his brandy.
Suddenly Justin nodded decisively.
“Can you get Ted to clear Brian’s calendar for the next few days?” he asked.
Emmett nodded. “I think so. Ted says he thinks Brian’s been looking for an excuse to get away. There’s a client meeting in Philly next week that he’s been trying to bring forward. So he hasn’t got anything else planned.”
“Good. Then I’ll call … no, I might go over there this afternoon. It’s not far from Liberty is it, Brian’s office?”
Emmett gave a slight chuckle, despite himself. “Not far, no.”
Justin gave a ghost of a grin. “He told me it used to be a bath house.”
Emmett nodded. “It’s in an alley just off Liberty.”
Then he said a little anxiously, “But what are you going to do?”
Justin just grinned at him, more confidently now.
“I’ve had an invitation,” he said a little mysteriously. “To a party out of town. I wasn’t planning on going, but … maybe it would be a good idea.”
“Can you get off school?” Emmett asked. “Because, honey, I know Brian, and for all that he plays hard, he absolutely believes in getting the work done first.”
Justin wrinkled his nose. He and Brian had had that discussion before now. “I know. But I’m kind of ahead in most of my classes. I don’t think it will be an issue. I’ll clear it with my professors before I go to see Brian.”
Both of them feeling relieved that at least they were handling the immediate problem, they finished their coffee and headed off in their different directions.
Getting the okay to miss classes for the rest of the week wasn’t as big a problem as might have been expected. At least two of his professors recognized that Justin’s work was already ahead of his classmates, and would have raised no objections. Only one might have complained, because he took delight in pointing out to Justin at every opportunity that he was just another student.
Fortunately for Justin, the Dean didn’t agree. Far more concerned with the possible benefits of having a future alumni with a successful film career than with playing ego games, the Dean was only too happy to give Justin leave to attend an event in New York that would boast such other illustrious guests as Bob Kane and Sam Raimi. It was even rumored, Justin had hinted, that Tim Burton might put in an appearance. And if the press were there, and Justin were interviewed, and mentioned PIFA - well, that could only be good for the college. Not to mention, of course, the possibility that in time Justin, if he pursued this career, might become a very wealthy man indeed. And a wealthy alumni who was grateful to the college for their understanding and support during his time there might well look for ways to show his gratitude.
So the Dean was more than happy to be accommodating.
Justin hoped that his lover would be as co-operative.
At first it didn’t seem that was going to happen.
Brian was surprised to see him, and not apparently not all that thrilled. The truth was, he was increasingly on edge, and his inability to persuade his Philadelphia client to move their meeting forward had left him with no excuse to get out of town over Halloween. He couldn’t admit, even to himself, to any fears for his own safety (although he’d made a vow to himself that he was going to keep Justin away from the loft from now on), but there had been a series of small incidents over the last week that …
Brian told himself that he wasn’t afraid, that he didn’t believe in any fucking ghost. But the truth was that he was becoming scared. Aside from the razor that had seemed to shift in his hand so that he’d been lucky only to cut his chin and not his throat, he’d had another fall - just managing to catch hold of the kitchen counter to save himself before hitting the stainless steel refrigerator head on; and last night he’d been about to step into the elevator when it had suddenly dropped several floors for no apparent reason. He’d taken the stairs after that, carefully.
Then this morning, he’d started his car only to find that against all his usual practice, he’d apparently left it in gear and with the handbrake off. On starting, it had jerked forwards, and only his quick reflexes had prevented it from hitting the garage wall head on.
So he’d spent the day fighting off any acknowledgement that he was scared. Because if he was scared, if he had reason to be scared, then …
Then there was every reason to be even more afraid for Justin. Emmett wasn’t the only one who’d been told what Michael’s last words had been.
“Brian’s mine. I will never let anyone else have him. Never have. Never will.”
Brian was still wracked with guilt that he hadn’t realized how dangerous Mikey’s feelings for him had been, how desperate Michael had become.
But he didn’t think he could live with himself if anything happened to Justin.
And he didn’t know what to do. Keeping Justin away from the loft might not be enough. The only solution seemed to be to stop seeing him. So since the incident with the elevator last night, and the car this morning, he’d been trying to psyche himself up to end things with Justin. But …
He didn’t want to. It was that simple. He must be the selfish prick that everyone had always said he was because he didn’t want to keep Justin safe in the only way he could be sure would work. If he ended it, then Justin should be safe.
But he didn’t want to.
Brian suspected that what he did want right now was the thing that he’d always tried to convince himself he’d never want … He wanted a life with Justin. A future with him. A future with one man. Fuck! Maybe he was really going insane, but …
He wanted it. When he was with Justin … everything was better. He was better. A better person. A better man. He felt like … he felt more himself with Justin than he ever had with anyone. He felt like maybe he could even be happy. Maybe he could even make Justin happy.
But he had to be kidding himself. He couldn’t even keep Justin safe.
And at that point, Brian’s mind would turn in another circle, shying away from the unthinkable and unable to admit what it was that he was trying to protect Justin from.
So when Justin arrived, Brian was caught in between two deep desires. One was to keep Justin safe, at whatever cost. The other was just … Justin. Consequently, his initial greeting was more acerbic than welcoming.
But Justin ignored that, and smiled at him engagingly.
“How busy are you this week?” he asked.
Brian shrugged, still fighting an internal war with himself.
“It’s just … I’ve been invited to a Halloween party in New York.”
Brian gave him one of his less than thrilled looks, but somewhere inside him, hope raised its head. If he just got out of Pittsburgh for a few days, till after Halloween … then maybe …
He didn’t know, but maybe something could be done. Something.
Of course, he also couldn’t appear too eager.
“Yeah, well, traveling 300 miles to a party in the middle of the week makes perfect sense,” he scoffed.
Justin nodded. “I know, and I wasn’t going to mention it. But I’d really like to go, and …”
“Have fun,” Brian heard himself say, and was acutely conscious that he was a fucking idiot.
Justin moved to sit on the edge of his desk. “Brian, I wouldn’t even ask if I didn’t think it would be worthwhile. Worth your while.”
Brian sucked his lips in and considered him for a moment, then waved a hand inviting him to continue.
Justin bit back a grin. “It’s a publicity thing for a new superhero theme restaurant,” he said. “They’re having a Halloween party and getting people to come in costume as various super heroes and …”
Brian made a face and Justin laughed. “What? Like you don’t know you’d be perfect as Rage,” he teased. Then he turned on his considerable charm and let himself become enthusiastic, knowing that for some reason it was a facet of his personality that Brian found it hard to resist.
“They’re going to have all sorts of movie and comic book people there. Maybe even Tim Burton. And lots of you know “high flyers” - there could be contacts and stuff.”
Brian grinned, but before he could open his mouth to tease Justin over his choice of words, Justin said quickly, “Networking opportunities then. Anyone could be there.”
Brian pretended to consider. But his decision had been made the moment Justin had put forward the suggestion. It was too perfect an excuse. Even if he couldn’t tell anyone else the reason without breaking Justin’s confidence, meaning the excuse was purely for himself.
“Okay,” he said, and was immediately conscious of a great weight being lifted from his mind … even his heart.
Justin beamed at him.
“I’ve got the rest of the week off school,” he said. “So we could go tomorrow - or even tonight if you’re not busy … I mean … we could have a few days to check out the galleries and things.”
Brian thought quickly and found himself nodding. He pressed the buzzer on his desk and when his assistant answered barked an order for her to book two return flights to New York leaving that evening, and returning on Sunday. And to make his usual hotel booking. Trained well by Cynthia, the woman simply said she’d provide him with the details as soon as she’d confirmed the bookings .
Then Brian called Cynthia and told her that she and Ted would be looking after things for the rest of the week.
Then he flipped closed his laptop.
“I’ll meet you at the airport,” he said.
Justin smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t think there was any sense in paying parking for both cars, so I caught a cab here. My bag’s at reception.”
“Pretty fucking cocky aren’t you?” Brian bitched, not sure if he liked the implications of Justin’s certainty and definitely not wanting to take him back to the loft.
Justin shrugged, having foreseen this reaction, but determined to be with Brian while he went to the loft to pack.
“If you’d said ‘no’ I might have gone on my own,” he said, with a quizzical emphasis on ‘might’.
Brian had to grin. “Yeah, right,” he said.
And with no more argument, they went out to the car and headed to the loft.
Brian made a half-hearted attempt to persuade Justin to wait in the car, but after the morning’s incident he wasn’t sure if even that was completely safe, and at least if Justin was with him, he could …
But at that point he stopped trying to think it through, because the it was all just too crazy to contemplate. So he resolutely put any fears from his mind. He was just going to go up and pack a bag and then they were going away for the rest of the week, and in New York at least they would be safe, even if they did have to go to this lame-assed restaurant. Fucking super hero theme. Pathetic.
He wondered what he’d done to deserve the fact that the two men he …
That both Michael and Justin were so fucking tied up with super heroes.
At least Justin was doing something about it. Not like fucking Mikey with his pathetic figures and comic books and all the collectible shit that Brian had tried to get Debbie to sell after …
Well, he hadn’t tried. He’d known how she would react to anything he said. But he’d persuaded Lindsay to try. That hadn’t gone well. But even Mel couldn’t get it through to Debbie that she could just about pay off all her debts and Vic’s as well with the money Mikey had invested in that shit. She’d just kept wailing about how it was all she had left of him. Stupid fucking cow. Stupid fucking shit! Why couldn’t he …
Brian took a deep breath and let it go.
He opened the door of the loft and held it firmly while Justin entered, not letting go till he’d stepped through himself and could let it slide shut behind him.
To his embarrassment the clang as it closed made him jump, and he saw Justin shiver. Determined not to waste any time, he carefully moved up the steps to the bedroom, pulled out a bag and began to randomly shove some clothes into it. Justin, he was relieved to see, had stayed down in the open area and wasn’t moving around. It made it easy to keep an eye on him and there was nothing that he could see that could hurt him there. And it would only take him a moment to close the bag and then …
The sound of the first object hitting the wall brought his head up with a jerk. His eyes sought Justin, and found him still standing in the middle of the loft, his face pale with astonishment. Before Brian could work out what the noise had been, something that Brian’s brain registered later as his fax machine, flew past Justin’s head, only just missing as the younger man ducked away.
“Fuck!”
“Shit!”
Brian grabbed his bag and took the steps down from the bedroom in one leap. His foot seemed to twist treacherously under him but there wasn’t time to stumble. He’d seen another object flying across the room. Somehow he flung himself forward and the bottle of Beam that had been speeding straight towards Justin’s skull deflected from his arm to shatter harmlessly on the hardwood floor.
For one breathless moment he held Justin close, shaken to the core by what he had almost lost, and then somehow they were at the door. As Brian fought to open it a chair hurtled towards them. Brian moved to sweep Justin behind him, and as he did Justin, holding Brian’s bag, thrust it upwards and knocked the chair from its path so it merely brushed Brian’s shoulder. Then the door was open and they were on the landing.
Brian slammed the door shut behind them and steered Justin towards the stairs. There was no way he was going in that fucking elevator.
At the top of the steps, he turned to take his bag from Justin and as he did Brian gave a sudden cry and pitched downwards.
Justin would swear ever afterwards that at that moment he heard a voice cry triumphantly, “Never!”
Then his arm shot out and he caught Brian’s flailing hand and flung himself backwards, onto the landing.
The paramedics said later that it was his quick thinking that had saved Brian’s life. If he’d gone headlong down those stairs, they said, shaking their heads, well …
It hadn’t been enough to prevent Brian from a nasty wrist sprain and badly bruised shin, however, and the paramedics loaded Brian into the ambulance and took him off to have x-rays taken to make sure that it wasn’t worse than they thought. Justin went with him to the hospital and calmed down his fractious and shaken lover while they waited for the x-rays to be done and his wrist to be strapped.
He used Brian’s cell to contact Cynthia and ask her to have their flight re-scheduled to the next day. Then he took Brian back to his small apartment and fed him and, after soothing him with a stellar blow job, cajoled him into taking the sleeping pill the hospital doctor had prescribed.
Then, once Brian was soundly asleep, he went back to the loft.
The door slid open silently but when Justin flicked on the light switch, nothing happened. In the fitful moonlight that was the only illumination the loft seemed larger, the shadows dark and full of menace.
Justin felt the anger that had been building in him all evening reach a peak and overflow.
Light started to glow. Stronger, brighter, it shone, sending the shadows scurrying. Justin raised his arms and it shone brighter still, unbearably bright. It was like the glow of a thousand suns. Every surface in the loft seemed to reflect it, till finally there was nowhere for the shadows to hide and in that unbearable brightness a shape appeared, writhing and twisting, as if it were the victim of unendurable torture.
Justin watched it impassively for a moment, then he said quietly and clearly. “He’s not yours. You can’t have him. You never had him. Never have, never will.”
And then the light burned even brighter, and the shape shriveled and disappeared, leaving only a smudge of fine dust on the hardwood floor.
Justin smiled slightly, and the light died.
Then he slid the door closed behind him and went home to Brian.
*****
Brian and Justin never did discuss what had happened at the loft. By some strange alchemy they were both, for different reasons, sure that whatever had happened it was over. For Brian, it had ended when he’d managed to reach Justin before that hurtling bottle had stolen his lover from him. In saving Justin’s life, Brian had somehow found peace with himself and the desperate guilt that he'd felt for so long had fallen away. The loft now was only a place of memories, its power gone. When they got back from New York, it was tacitly understood that Brian would be staying at Justin’s for a while.
They visited the loft one afternoon, however, so that Brian could pick up a few things, and looking round, Brian thought vaguely that it felt different. It looked different too. Sort of … faded. As if the whole place had been exposed for too long to bright sunshine. But he wasn’t too worried about it. It should still sell alright.
He wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to move in with Justin on a full time basis yet, but his narrow escape had set him thinking. It was time he did something about Gus. He might have died with his son hardly knowing him, and that wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair to him, or to Gus. So he needed to find a new place. Somewhere that had room for his son. And maybe, in time, room for the other man in his life as well. But that was in the future.
For now Brian just hoped that Linds and the she-wolf she lived with would be reasonable and agree to Gus spending at least some of his vacation time in Pittsburgh. If not, then he’d have to consider his options. But he’d worry about that later if he needed to. For now, he needed to get a move on if they were going to get to the airport on time.
They were going to Toronto for the weekend so that Justin and Gus could meet.
Justin hoped the visit went well. He and Brian had talked about the situation with Gus, and he knew how much it meant to Brian to have the women agree to let Brian see more of his son. Without ever meeting them, Justin felt some disgust towards these two people who demanded that Brian helped to support his son, gladly took his money, but weren’t prepared to give Brian a role in parenting the child he’d helped to create.
It hurt Brian, and Justin didn’t like people he loved being hurt. It made him angry; and he was rather wary of allowing himself to get too angry.
People who knew about his role in making the film assumed that he’d based the character of JT on himself, while the super hero was purely a figment of his imagination.
People didn’t have a clue.
Justin could only hope that the two women in Toronto didn’t give him cause to show them the real truth behind the character of Rage.
for what happens in Toronto - on to the second of the Justin!Rage stories - Always Have, Always Will
Oh, and if you're looking for Part One, it's here (slightly tweaked to fix up lines I wasn't entirely happy with - no real changes):
Never Have, Never Will - Part One
So without more ado here it is ...
Never Have, Never Will: Part Two
*****
Emmett brought his eyes to Justin’s horrified face.
“Michael’s mother works at the Liberty Diner,” he said, his voice hardening a little. “And she’s never stopped blaming Brian. Even though all the experts and all the witnesses, including the ambulance guys, said it was really clear what had happened, she still insisted that either Brian had outright killed Michael, or else he’d somehow forced Michael into a suicide pact and then he’d backed out of it.”
Justin swallowed hard to stop himself being sick.
“That’s why Brian freaked out the other night, honey. He just doesn’t go near that place. He doesn’t go near Debbie.”
He sighed. “We none of us do, anymore. Well, Mel used to. But she would. She even tried to help Deb put together some sort of civil case against Brian, but finally even she had to admit that there was no evidence that he’d known anything about what Michael intended to do. I mean … Michael left the packets from the stuff he used at his mother’s, and they found the spoon he’d used to stir it into the pasta and everything, and Brian had all those defense wounds on his hands … but Debbie still believes that there’s no way her little angel could ever have done such a thing. So it has to be Brian’s fault.”
He sighed deeply. “Maybe if she’d ever learned to let Michael take responsibility for himself and not make everything about Brian then … who knows?”
“This happened at the loft?” Justin said, unable to force his voice above a whisper.
Emmett nodded. At the look on Justin’s face, he went on, “Honey, we all tried to persuade him to move. Everyone. Even Mel. But … “
He leaned forward, dropping his voice even lower, “Justin, if you ask me, I think Brian’s punishing himself. I think that he hates living there, hates being surrounded by all that, but that he thinks he deserves it because he let that happen to Michael.”
Justin leaned back in his chair for a moment, his mind whirling. That made sense. It fitted absolutely with what he knew of Brian. But, fucking Hell! What a nightmare it must have been for him - bad enough to go through that, but to live every day with those memories, in the place it happened … Fuck!
But Emmett hadn’t finished his revelations. As they both ordered much needed coffee and then added an order for brandy as well, he straightened himself in his chair.
“The thing is, honey,” he started seriously, then he stopped, and then started again, his voice taking on a note of desperation, “Honey, I know this sounds crazy. I know it. But Teddy and I talked about it and … Justin, we like you. And it’s obvious Brian likes you and … honey, we are so scared.”
Justin would have laughed, but there was nothing funny about the real horror Brian had been through, or the equally real fear in Emmett’s face.
He tried to summon up the words that would put Emmett’s fear into perspective without ridiculing it. In the face of the man’s sincerity he just couldn’t do that. But he surely couldn’t mean that … what? He was afraid of Michael? That didn’t make sense.
“Justin … I know it sounds crazy. But things happen at the loft. Bad things. They’ve happened to Brian, and now they’re starting to happen to you.”
Those words jolted Justin.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“Well, honey, like when you hurt …”
Justin shook his head dismissively. “Not me. What has happened to Brian?”
His voice sounded a little sharp, and Emmett, even in the midst of his worries, felt a little glow of warmth. He couldn’t help but smile at the young man who was more concerned about Brian than about his own safety. Then he sighed.
“The first Halloween after it happened, Brian was … Teddy and I were worried about him. So we kept an eye on him all night. We all went to Babylon, and Brian had quite a bit to drink, but nothing else, honey, I’m sure. We were watching him all night. He let Ted drive him home and I followed in Teddy’s car, and we got Brian upstairs. He was being … well, Brian. All ‘I don’t need you two pathetic faggots to tuck me in, go and get laid’ sort of stuff. But Ted and I are used to that, and we just ignored him.
“So we got him into bed and he was okay. We were a bit nervous about leaving him, but he was getting more and more pissed off, so we went down to Ted’s car and then Teddy realized he still had Brian’s keys. So he went back upstairs. He was just going to sneak into the loft and leave them. I mean, it had only been a few minutes since we’d left.
Emmett stopped and looked closely at the young man opposite.
“Honey - when Teddy walked in, Brian was … he was standing on a chair with a scarf tied around his neck, trying to throw the other end up over one of those beams.”
Justin stared at him.
“Teddy pulled him down, and Brian swore at him, but then Teddy said he looked around like he didn’t know where he was. Teddy called my cell and I came running up, and …” he shook his head. “Honey … Brian blustered and tried to bluff his way out of it, but the truth is … I don’t think he knew what he’d been doing. He didn’t seem to remember at all. In the end, we made him come back to Teddy’s, and … honey, he came with us with hardly a squeak out of him about it.”
Justin nodded to show he understood what that meant. Brian must have been really freaked.
Emmett sighed. “We never talked about it again - at least not with Brian. But the next year he took a business trip around that time, so he was away for Halloween. It wasn’t until after he got back that we found out that just before he left he’d tripped coming down the steps from the bedroom and could really have hurt himself except that he landed on his bags. As it was, he was really pissed because he damaged his Louis Vuitton suit holder.”
Justin was trying to make sense of what he was hearing. Trying to find the rational explanation that he knew there had to be.
But meanwhile Emmett was going on.
“The next year, I tried to get Brian to go away again, but … things had been going on and he was … he was involved in this election campaign, and he just refused to leave. Teddy was ... away at the time, so I stayed close to Brian and partied with him all night, and then at the end of the night I made sure he got home alright and I just didn’t leave. I settled down out on this futon he had at the time, and I must have drifted off to sleep, because all of a sudden I was jerking awake. I didn't know what had woken me up at the time, just that it was freezing.”
Justin stared at him, these words bringing vividly to his mind the memory of the intense cold he’d so often felt in the loft.
“Then I heard these horrible noises coming from the bedroom. I ran up the steps and Brian was lying on his back, choking. His face was going blue and … it was awful. Luckily, I'd done these first aid classes because - well, it doesn’t matter - but it meant that I knew what to do, so I managed to check Brian’s airway was clear and somehow I got him breathing normally again, then I pushed him into the recovery position and called an ambulance.
“They took him to the hospital, and tested him for drugs, because they thought he’d overdosed, but there was nothing in his system. The next day he was okay and no one ever figured out what had caused it, and Brian just wouldn’t talk about it.
“And …,” Emmett said, the frustration clear in his voice, “No matter what any of us has said, we’ve never been able to persuade him to move out of that horrible place.”
Emmett looked on the verge of tears now. But he took a deep breath and went on. “By last Halloween Teddy was working for Brian, so he managed to arrange a business trip that got him out of town at that time. But Halloween is this Wednesday, and honey …”
He looked at Justin and said with some dignity, “Justin, I know a lot of the time I seem like just a silly queen, but I come from down South where we know a little about these things, and I have to tell you, I’m scared. Because it’s getting worse. I mean … it’s always been creepy in there. And there’s the damned cold.”
“I kept telling myself it was drafts,” Justin said quietly, almost to himself.
Emmett gave him a sharp look.
“That’s what I mean, honey,” he said. “I think you being around has made it worse. It’s not just what has happened to you, although I don’t like that one little bit. But I’m really scared for Brian.”
“Well, maybe I can get him to come away with me for Halloween.”
Emmett shook his head. “Honey, I’m not sure that … whatever it is … will wait till Halloween.”
He swallowed hard and said, “I … that cut on Brian’s chin …”
Justin sat and looked at him, trying to fight off a feeling of panic.
“He cut himself shaving,” he said slowly.
Emmett met his gaze steadily. “Sweetie, in all the years I’ve known Brian Kinney I have never known him to cut himself shaving. Never.”
He grinned, sudden and unexpected. “He’s far too careful of that pretty face.”
An answering grin flashed across Justin’s face for a second, and then he sobered. He sat for a moment in thought, and Emmett, realizing with a profound sense of thankfulness that Justin wasn’t trying to laugh off the situation, was content to fall silent. He took a deep sip of his brandy.
Suddenly Justin nodded decisively.
“Can you get Ted to clear Brian’s calendar for the next few days?” he asked.
Emmett nodded. “I think so. Ted says he thinks Brian’s been looking for an excuse to get away. There’s a client meeting in Philly next week that he’s been trying to bring forward. So he hasn’t got anything else planned.”
“Good. Then I’ll call … no, I might go over there this afternoon. It’s not far from Liberty is it, Brian’s office?”
Emmett gave a slight chuckle, despite himself. “Not far, no.”
Justin gave a ghost of a grin. “He told me it used to be a bath house.”
Emmett nodded. “It’s in an alley just off Liberty.”
Then he said a little anxiously, “But what are you going to do?”
Justin just grinned at him, more confidently now.
“I’ve had an invitation,” he said a little mysteriously. “To a party out of town. I wasn’t planning on going, but … maybe it would be a good idea.”
“Can you get off school?” Emmett asked. “Because, honey, I know Brian, and for all that he plays hard, he absolutely believes in getting the work done first.”
Justin wrinkled his nose. He and Brian had had that discussion before now. “I know. But I’m kind of ahead in most of my classes. I don’t think it will be an issue. I’ll clear it with my professors before I go to see Brian.”
Both of them feeling relieved that at least they were handling the immediate problem, they finished their coffee and headed off in their different directions.
Getting the okay to miss classes for the rest of the week wasn’t as big a problem as might have been expected. At least two of his professors recognized that Justin’s work was already ahead of his classmates, and would have raised no objections. Only one might have complained, because he took delight in pointing out to Justin at every opportunity that he was just another student.
Fortunately for Justin, the Dean didn’t agree. Far more concerned with the possible benefits of having a future alumni with a successful film career than with playing ego games, the Dean was only too happy to give Justin leave to attend an event in New York that would boast such other illustrious guests as Bob Kane and Sam Raimi. It was even rumored, Justin had hinted, that Tim Burton might put in an appearance. And if the press were there, and Justin were interviewed, and mentioned PIFA - well, that could only be good for the college. Not to mention, of course, the possibility that in time Justin, if he pursued this career, might become a very wealthy man indeed. And a wealthy alumni who was grateful to the college for their understanding and support during his time there might well look for ways to show his gratitude.
So the Dean was more than happy to be accommodating.
Justin hoped that his lover would be as co-operative.
At first it didn’t seem that was going to happen.
Brian was surprised to see him, and not apparently not all that thrilled. The truth was, he was increasingly on edge, and his inability to persuade his Philadelphia client to move their meeting forward had left him with no excuse to get out of town over Halloween. He couldn’t admit, even to himself, to any fears for his own safety (although he’d made a vow to himself that he was going to keep Justin away from the loft from now on), but there had been a series of small incidents over the last week that …
Brian told himself that he wasn’t afraid, that he didn’t believe in any fucking ghost. But the truth was that he was becoming scared. Aside from the razor that had seemed to shift in his hand so that he’d been lucky only to cut his chin and not his throat, he’d had another fall - just managing to catch hold of the kitchen counter to save himself before hitting the stainless steel refrigerator head on; and last night he’d been about to step into the elevator when it had suddenly dropped several floors for no apparent reason. He’d taken the stairs after that, carefully.
Then this morning, he’d started his car only to find that against all his usual practice, he’d apparently left it in gear and with the handbrake off. On starting, it had jerked forwards, and only his quick reflexes had prevented it from hitting the garage wall head on.
So he’d spent the day fighting off any acknowledgement that he was scared. Because if he was scared, if he had reason to be scared, then …
Then there was every reason to be even more afraid for Justin. Emmett wasn’t the only one who’d been told what Michael’s last words had been.
“Brian’s mine. I will never let anyone else have him. Never have. Never will.”
Brian was still wracked with guilt that he hadn’t realized how dangerous Mikey’s feelings for him had been, how desperate Michael had become.
But he didn’t think he could live with himself if anything happened to Justin.
And he didn’t know what to do. Keeping Justin away from the loft might not be enough. The only solution seemed to be to stop seeing him. So since the incident with the elevator last night, and the car this morning, he’d been trying to psyche himself up to end things with Justin. But …
He didn’t want to. It was that simple. He must be the selfish prick that everyone had always said he was because he didn’t want to keep Justin safe in the only way he could be sure would work. If he ended it, then Justin should be safe.
But he didn’t want to.
Brian suspected that what he did want right now was the thing that he’d always tried to convince himself he’d never want … He wanted a life with Justin. A future with him. A future with one man. Fuck! Maybe he was really going insane, but …
He wanted it. When he was with Justin … everything was better. He was better. A better person. A better man. He felt like … he felt more himself with Justin than he ever had with anyone. He felt like maybe he could even be happy. Maybe he could even make Justin happy.
But he had to be kidding himself. He couldn’t even keep Justin safe.
And at that point, Brian’s mind would turn in another circle, shying away from the unthinkable and unable to admit what it was that he was trying to protect Justin from.
So when Justin arrived, Brian was caught in between two deep desires. One was to keep Justin safe, at whatever cost. The other was just … Justin. Consequently, his initial greeting was more acerbic than welcoming.
But Justin ignored that, and smiled at him engagingly.
“How busy are you this week?” he asked.
Brian shrugged, still fighting an internal war with himself.
“It’s just … I’ve been invited to a Halloween party in New York.”
Brian gave him one of his less than thrilled looks, but somewhere inside him, hope raised its head. If he just got out of Pittsburgh for a few days, till after Halloween … then maybe …
He didn’t know, but maybe something could be done. Something.
Of course, he also couldn’t appear too eager.
“Yeah, well, traveling 300 miles to a party in the middle of the week makes perfect sense,” he scoffed.
Justin nodded. “I know, and I wasn’t going to mention it. But I’d really like to go, and …”
“Have fun,” Brian heard himself say, and was acutely conscious that he was a fucking idiot.
Justin moved to sit on the edge of his desk. “Brian, I wouldn’t even ask if I didn’t think it would be worthwhile. Worth your while.”
Brian sucked his lips in and considered him for a moment, then waved a hand inviting him to continue.
Justin bit back a grin. “It’s a publicity thing for a new superhero theme restaurant,” he said. “They’re having a Halloween party and getting people to come in costume as various super heroes and …”
Brian made a face and Justin laughed. “What? Like you don’t know you’d be perfect as Rage,” he teased. Then he turned on his considerable charm and let himself become enthusiastic, knowing that for some reason it was a facet of his personality that Brian found it hard to resist.
“They’re going to have all sorts of movie and comic book people there. Maybe even Tim Burton. And lots of you know “high flyers” - there could be contacts and stuff.”
Brian grinned, but before he could open his mouth to tease Justin over his choice of words, Justin said quickly, “Networking opportunities then. Anyone could be there.”
Brian pretended to consider. But his decision had been made the moment Justin had put forward the suggestion. It was too perfect an excuse. Even if he couldn’t tell anyone else the reason without breaking Justin’s confidence, meaning the excuse was purely for himself.
“Okay,” he said, and was immediately conscious of a great weight being lifted from his mind … even his heart.
Justin beamed at him.
“I’ve got the rest of the week off school,” he said. “So we could go tomorrow - or even tonight if you’re not busy … I mean … we could have a few days to check out the galleries and things.”
Brian thought quickly and found himself nodding. He pressed the buzzer on his desk and when his assistant answered barked an order for her to book two return flights to New York leaving that evening, and returning on Sunday. And to make his usual hotel booking. Trained well by Cynthia, the woman simply said she’d provide him with the details as soon as she’d confirmed the bookings .
Then Brian called Cynthia and told her that she and Ted would be looking after things for the rest of the week.
Then he flipped closed his laptop.
“I’ll meet you at the airport,” he said.
Justin smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t think there was any sense in paying parking for both cars, so I caught a cab here. My bag’s at reception.”
“Pretty fucking cocky aren’t you?” Brian bitched, not sure if he liked the implications of Justin’s certainty and definitely not wanting to take him back to the loft.
Justin shrugged, having foreseen this reaction, but determined to be with Brian while he went to the loft to pack.
“If you’d said ‘no’ I might have gone on my own,” he said, with a quizzical emphasis on ‘might’.
Brian had to grin. “Yeah, right,” he said.
And with no more argument, they went out to the car and headed to the loft.
Brian made a half-hearted attempt to persuade Justin to wait in the car, but after the morning’s incident he wasn’t sure if even that was completely safe, and at least if Justin was with him, he could …
But at that point he stopped trying to think it through, because the it was all just too crazy to contemplate. So he resolutely put any fears from his mind. He was just going to go up and pack a bag and then they were going away for the rest of the week, and in New York at least they would be safe, even if they did have to go to this lame-assed restaurant. Fucking super hero theme. Pathetic.
He wondered what he’d done to deserve the fact that the two men he …
That both Michael and Justin were so fucking tied up with super heroes.
At least Justin was doing something about it. Not like fucking Mikey with his pathetic figures and comic books and all the collectible shit that Brian had tried to get Debbie to sell after …
Well, he hadn’t tried. He’d known how she would react to anything he said. But he’d persuaded Lindsay to try. That hadn’t gone well. But even Mel couldn’t get it through to Debbie that she could just about pay off all her debts and Vic’s as well with the money Mikey had invested in that shit. She’d just kept wailing about how it was all she had left of him. Stupid fucking cow. Stupid fucking shit! Why couldn’t he …
Brian took a deep breath and let it go.
He opened the door of the loft and held it firmly while Justin entered, not letting go till he’d stepped through himself and could let it slide shut behind him.
To his embarrassment the clang as it closed made him jump, and he saw Justin shiver. Determined not to waste any time, he carefully moved up the steps to the bedroom, pulled out a bag and began to randomly shove some clothes into it. Justin, he was relieved to see, had stayed down in the open area and wasn’t moving around. It made it easy to keep an eye on him and there was nothing that he could see that could hurt him there. And it would only take him a moment to close the bag and then …
The sound of the first object hitting the wall brought his head up with a jerk. His eyes sought Justin, and found him still standing in the middle of the loft, his face pale with astonishment. Before Brian could work out what the noise had been, something that Brian’s brain registered later as his fax machine, flew past Justin’s head, only just missing as the younger man ducked away.
“Fuck!”
“Shit!”
Brian grabbed his bag and took the steps down from the bedroom in one leap. His foot seemed to twist treacherously under him but there wasn’t time to stumble. He’d seen another object flying across the room. Somehow he flung himself forward and the bottle of Beam that had been speeding straight towards Justin’s skull deflected from his arm to shatter harmlessly on the hardwood floor.
For one breathless moment he held Justin close, shaken to the core by what he had almost lost, and then somehow they were at the door. As Brian fought to open it a chair hurtled towards them. Brian moved to sweep Justin behind him, and as he did Justin, holding Brian’s bag, thrust it upwards and knocked the chair from its path so it merely brushed Brian’s shoulder. Then the door was open and they were on the landing.
Brian slammed the door shut behind them and steered Justin towards the stairs. There was no way he was going in that fucking elevator.
At the top of the steps, he turned to take his bag from Justin and as he did Brian gave a sudden cry and pitched downwards.
Justin would swear ever afterwards that at that moment he heard a voice cry triumphantly, “Never!”
Then his arm shot out and he caught Brian’s flailing hand and flung himself backwards, onto the landing.
The paramedics said later that it was his quick thinking that had saved Brian’s life. If he’d gone headlong down those stairs, they said, shaking their heads, well …
It hadn’t been enough to prevent Brian from a nasty wrist sprain and badly bruised shin, however, and the paramedics loaded Brian into the ambulance and took him off to have x-rays taken to make sure that it wasn’t worse than they thought. Justin went with him to the hospital and calmed down his fractious and shaken lover while they waited for the x-rays to be done and his wrist to be strapped.
He used Brian’s cell to contact Cynthia and ask her to have their flight re-scheduled to the next day. Then he took Brian back to his small apartment and fed him and, after soothing him with a stellar blow job, cajoled him into taking the sleeping pill the hospital doctor had prescribed.
Then, once Brian was soundly asleep, he went back to the loft.
The door slid open silently but when Justin flicked on the light switch, nothing happened. In the fitful moonlight that was the only illumination the loft seemed larger, the shadows dark and full of menace.
Justin felt the anger that had been building in him all evening reach a peak and overflow.
Light started to glow. Stronger, brighter, it shone, sending the shadows scurrying. Justin raised his arms and it shone brighter still, unbearably bright. It was like the glow of a thousand suns. Every surface in the loft seemed to reflect it, till finally there was nowhere for the shadows to hide and in that unbearable brightness a shape appeared, writhing and twisting, as if it were the victim of unendurable torture.
Justin watched it impassively for a moment, then he said quietly and clearly. “He’s not yours. You can’t have him. You never had him. Never have, never will.”
And then the light burned even brighter, and the shape shriveled and disappeared, leaving only a smudge of fine dust on the hardwood floor.
Justin smiled slightly, and the light died.
Then he slid the door closed behind him and went home to Brian.
*****
Brian and Justin never did discuss what had happened at the loft. By some strange alchemy they were both, for different reasons, sure that whatever had happened it was over. For Brian, it had ended when he’d managed to reach Justin before that hurtling bottle had stolen his lover from him. In saving Justin’s life, Brian had somehow found peace with himself and the desperate guilt that he'd felt for so long had fallen away. The loft now was only a place of memories, its power gone. When they got back from New York, it was tacitly understood that Brian would be staying at Justin’s for a while.
They visited the loft one afternoon, however, so that Brian could pick up a few things, and looking round, Brian thought vaguely that it felt different. It looked different too. Sort of … faded. As if the whole place had been exposed for too long to bright sunshine. But he wasn’t too worried about it. It should still sell alright.
He wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to move in with Justin on a full time basis yet, but his narrow escape had set him thinking. It was time he did something about Gus. He might have died with his son hardly knowing him, and that wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair to him, or to Gus. So he needed to find a new place. Somewhere that had room for his son. And maybe, in time, room for the other man in his life as well. But that was in the future.
For now Brian just hoped that Linds and the she-wolf she lived with would be reasonable and agree to Gus spending at least some of his vacation time in Pittsburgh. If not, then he’d have to consider his options. But he’d worry about that later if he needed to. For now, he needed to get a move on if they were going to get to the airport on time.
They were going to Toronto for the weekend so that Justin and Gus could meet.
Justin hoped the visit went well. He and Brian had talked about the situation with Gus, and he knew how much it meant to Brian to have the women agree to let Brian see more of his son. Without ever meeting them, Justin felt some disgust towards these two people who demanded that Brian helped to support his son, gladly took his money, but weren’t prepared to give Brian a role in parenting the child he’d helped to create.
It hurt Brian, and Justin didn’t like people he loved being hurt. It made him angry; and he was rather wary of allowing himself to get too angry.
People who knew about his role in making the film assumed that he’d based the character of JT on himself, while the super hero was purely a figment of his imagination.
People didn’t have a clue.
Justin could only hope that the two women in Toronto didn’t give him cause to show them the real truth behind the character of Rage.
for what happens in Toronto - on to the second of the Justin!Rage stories - Always Have, Always Will