On Saturday morning, on the way to Debbie’s to collect Nick, Justin was constantly on the phone with potential clients. He had given his number to everyone interested, because he didn’t expect anyone to call him.

“As happy as I am about this, I’ve reached my limit to speak today,” Justin moaned, after wrapping up another conversation.

“Was there any doubt people would call? Anyway, I hope you’ll work on their commissions responsibly,” Brian commented.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Justin inquired, searching for the phone feature to change his voicemail. He planned on offering his email address in the voicemail so he could shut off his phone, but Brian's statement distracted him.

“It means…you will take them one at a time, depending on how fast the client wants it. I noticed your hand hurt when you pushed yourself to finish the paintings for this show.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve lived off commissions mostly, in New York. I know how to do it without hurting myself,” Justin said, trying not to think of all the times he had fought with Ethan about Justin's masochistic tendencies. When his hand hurt, he used to push himself further, angered by the fact that he needed so many breaks and the deadlines were closing in fast.

Justin decided instead of shutting off his phone and changing his voicemail message, to create a quick message with his email address where he thanked the caller for their interest. He would decline all unknown numbers and send that message, until he had the time to sit down and make order in the chaos of potential clients.

“Think they’ll still hold the parade?” Brian asked curiously, leaning over the steering wheel to squint through the sheets of rain.

“Do you think a little rain will stop our community from marching?” Justin snorted.

“Have you noticed what queens are in our community?”

“Speaking for yourself?” Justin teased, leaning over the console to kiss Brian's cheek.

“No.” Brian glared out the window. “If it doesn’t get better by eleven, we’re going to Woody’s.”

“We’ll have Nick with us,” Justin reminded him.

“We won’t be the only ones with a child, hiding away from the rain,” Brian pointed out. “I guess this is a sign, parades are not my thing.”

Justin chuckled. His amusement vanished when they turned on Debbie’s street. There was an ambulance parked close to her house, and Justin felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He had a feeling something was wrong with Nick. He didn’t even think once that the ambulance was called for another house on the street.

“Calm down,” Brian drawled. “It’s probably here for Mr. Jefferson. He calls for help every time he runs out of oxygen in his tank, according to Deb.”

Justin barely heard Brian; his sole focus was on getting in Debbie’s house to see for himself they were both fine.

When Brian parked a few spot ahead of the ambulance, Justin threw his door open. He managed only two steps when the front door of Debbie’s house opened. One of the EMT guys had an arm around Debbie’s shoulder, holding her left hand in a wrapped towel.

“Fuck,” Brian cursed, joining Justin.

The other EMT followed them out of the house with Nick at his side. When Nick spotted his dad and Brian, he ran full pelt speed at them, wrapping his arms around Justin's legs.

“Hey, honey. Are you okay?”

Nick sobbed into Justin's pants, and Justin crouched to his level, feeling at a loss how to help him. Was he hurt as well? Was he only scared?

“Debbie,” Brian said in concern, going to her side.

“I slipped in the kitchen and braced my fall in my hand,” she explained. “Nick insisted to call 911.”

“Are you the son?” the man supporting Debbie asked.

“Close enough,” she answered, smiling at Brian.

“I’ll get Michael. Where are you taking her?” Brian asked.

“Allegheny General.”

“We’ll be right there. You better listen to the doctors, Debbie,” Brian insisted, before turning to Justin.

Justin was in a deep conversation with the other EMT about what a smart kid Nick was. He had kept Debbie on the floor after her fall and brought ice for her swelling wrist.

Justin met Brian's eyes, relief and concern dancing in them.

“We have to go and get Michael.”

“Thank you,” Justin said to the EMT, before the man returned to the ambulance where his colleague was taking Debbie inside through the back doors.

“Do you want to go with her?” Brian asked, noticing the conflicted look in Justin's eyes. “I can take Nick with me. We’ll meet at the hospital.”

“Okay. Go inside and get her ID and insurance details. I’ll see you soon, Nick. You were very brave,” Justin said softly, kissing Nick’s forehead.

“Come on, kiddo.” Brian took Nick’s hand, leading him back to the house, while Justin sprinted toward the ambulance.

“Is it okay if I come along?” he asked, meeting Debbie’s eyes through the opened doors.

“Are you next of kin, sir?”

“He’s as good as my son. Let him ride along,” Debbie insisted.

The EMT shot Justin a disapproving look, filling out a chart on his lap.

Justin sat across from Debbie, staring at her, worried. He couldn’t ever remembering her having clumsy moments to trip or fall. The only time she had collapsed in the diner was when she was overexerting herself.

“Where’s Carl?” Justin asked curiously.

“He went to the station earlier. I was working on breakfast for your little pumpkin. Like I told the doctor, I bent to grab a plate from the lower cabinet and got up too fast. You know how you get light-headed after such moves.”

Justin noticed how the EMT pursed his lips, not looking up from the papers. He could only guess there was something else wrong with Debbie, but she was sugar-coating it for him.

“I could call Carl for you,” Justin offered, even though he didn’t have the man’s number.

“No need to worry him. They’ll check my hand, put it in a cast, and I’ll be on my way home before he returns,” she dismissed him.

“Ma’am, the doctors might keep you for longer than a few hours,” the EMT interjected. “If this young man wants to call your husband, please accept it.”

“Carl isn’t my husband. Not until my son will be able to marry the man he loves legally in this country,” Debbie said, upset. She touched her forehead, wincing.

“Did you hurt your head when you fell?” Justin asked anxiously. He knew first-hand how tricky such injuries were.

“I’m fine, Sunshine. Don’t worry,” she promised.

It didn’t escape Justin how the EMT didn’t seem to agree with Debbie’s optimism.

When they arrived at the hospital, Justin stood by the ER bed Debbie was installed in, until the doctors sent him to the Waiting Room. He paced for a while, before he called Brian.

“Justin, how’s Ma?” Justin was surprised to hear Michael’s panicked voice, but he figured Brian was driving.

“She’s in the ER. The doctors kicked me away. Uh, can you give me Carl’s number?”

“I already called him. He’s on the way. We parked up front now,” Michael explained.

“I’ll meet you at the doors.” Justin hurried to the main entrance, after hanging up.

Michael rushed through the doors, nearly colliding with Justin. “How is she? Why did you leave her side?”

“You know how these things are. They’ll let us know after they check her up. It looks like she broke her wrist,” Justin said, because that was all that he knew for sure.

Brian strolled through the doors with Nick in his arms, and Ben by his side. Nick reached for Justin, and Justin collected his son, hugging him tightly.

“Debbie will be fine,” he whispered.

“Yeah, we heard all about how he saved Ma on the way here,” Michael said with a small smile. “Nick is a little hero.”

“I was really scared,” Nick said into Justin's neck.

“I’m sure, baby. You did amazing.” Justin kissed his head, leading the group back to the Waiting Room.

“Did Carl make it?” Brian asked, touching Justin's back.

“No. I didn’t even know you called him.” He leaned into Brian's side. “I think there’s something else the EMT wasn’t saying, because he didn’t seem happy about how Debbie kept brushing me off about being fine.”

“We’ll find out soon.”

The waiting took another hour, with Carl arriving in the meantime. Not even his uniform intimidated the doctors about giving up any information regarding Debbie until they had run all the necessary tests.

When a doctor finally asked who was there for Deborah Novotny, all of them got up, surprising him. Michael demanded for the doctor to start talking and that the whole group was family.

Besides a broken wrist, Debbie had alarmingly high blood pressure, and they wanted to monitor that. The doctor reassured Michael and Carl that such cases were somewhat normal for her age. Especially, when she had admitted to have run out of her meds. Her plan was to visit her own doctor the following week for a refill.

Carl admitted how Debbie had mentioned her head hurt and how she sometimes felt dizzy. The doctor nodded, only allowing Michael and Carl to visit her.

“I’ll go and grab a change of clothes for her. It looks like she’s staying overnight,” Ben offered.

“We’ll drop you off. Keep us updated,” Brian said, touching Michael’s shoulder.

“Go.” He nodded, following the doctor with Carl.

“Fuck. Maybe now she’ll fucking quit the diner,” Brian muttered, leading their group out the hospital.

“One can only hope,” Ben said, shaking his head.

After dropping Ben off at Debbie’s, Brian drove toward Liberty Avenue.

“What are you doing?” Justin demanded, when Brian parked in his usual spot at Babylon.

“We’re going to the fucking parade, like we planned. It stopped raining. Do you think Debbie would want us to go home and grow an ulcerous over her health problems?”

“What’s an ulcerous?” Nick asked innocently, from the back seat.

Justin threw his hands in the air. “Whatever. We’re wet from the rain earlier. I’m freezing, and I don’t want to get a cold.”

“I have spare clothes in the office.” Brian waved toward Babylon. “And ulcerous is something one gets if they worry too much…amongst other things,” he explained to Nick, turning to face him.

“Will Daddy get it? He worries about everything.”

Justin stared bewildered at his son, then laughed. “No, I’ll be fine.”

They changed out of clothes fast. Even Nick got a tiny vest used for shows, which fit him perfectly.

Justin was buttoning up a shirt that was a little tight, and Justin had no idea why Brian had such a small shirt.

“Found something so we’ll fit in the parade,” Brian announced, returning to his office.

“What more do we have to do than be gay?” Justin asked, amused.

“Wave the flag.” Brian handed Nick a small pride flag. Justin recognized the item as something the bartender used in the fancy drinks. “And this is for you.” Brian wrapped a tie, dyed in the colors of the rainbow, around Justin’s neck.

Justin eyes the tie dubiously, then rolled his sleeves up. “And you?”

Brian extracted a pair of large glasses with the rims in the shape of an ass.

“I’m not walking down the street with you looking like that,” Justin demanded.

“You look silly,” Nick giggled. Brian gasped, pretending to appear offended. Nick didn’t fall for Brian's antics, patting Brian's hand. “I like you silly.”

“Let’s go,” Justin urged them.

When they left Babylon, Brian lifted Nick on his shoulders, then took Justin's hand. Justin squeezing his fingers, smiling.

He would have never dreamed of marching next to Brian. Let alone, have Brian holding his hand and carrying his son proudly on his shoulders. Their son…Justin reminded himself. They had yet to talk details about Brian adopting Nick, but Brian was doing a fabulous job at the dad thing.

.

.

.

It took them a while to find a group to march with. A short quarrel between couples and families, and the brightly colored group of queers, the battle was won by Nick pointing to someone dressed in all pink with a green feather boa around the neck. The man looked like an oversized pink bird had exploded on him.

As they approached the person, Brian was surprised to discover Emmett dressed in that crazy outfit. He was hanging by Drew’s arm, pointing out different costumes.

“If it isn’t Prince Charming and Rapunzel,” Brian commented, falling in step with Emmett and Drew.

Emmett turned to glare at their company, but started laughing when he noticed Brian's glasses. “I can’t say I’m not surprised to see you here.”

“Stranger things have happened.” Brian shrugged. “What’s your costume, Boyd?”

“Drew is my bodyguard, so the bad, bad, horny queers won’t steal me away,” Emmett interjected, leaning into Drew’s side for a kiss. When he pulled back, he had a serious look in his eyes. “I heard about Debbie.”

“Don’t try to visit her, because the doctor only allowed Michael and Carl inside her room,” Justin said. “I have to agree with Brian. Maybe this episode will be the end of her time at the diner. That place won’t fall apart without her.”

“Poor Debbie,” Emmett mumbled. “Last time we talked, she was covering for Kiki, who was preparing for the parade, so she took Friday off.”

“Bitch,” Brian said, trying to cover his word with a cough, when Justin elbowed him in the ribs.

“And Carl has been wondering if she ever planned on marrying him since now same-sex marriages are legal in some states.”

“Oh, that’s what she meant…” Justin said, thoughtfully. “The doctor mentioned something about Carl, referring to him as Debbie’s husband. She threw a fit over the word.”

“Yeah, it’s a hot topic…I told her just to say the word, because I’m ready to throw her a fabulous party.”

“If she’s waiting for Mikey to marry Ben again…I doubt it will happen. I still remember how upset they were about their marriage not being recognized in our country,” Brian commented.

“I think that’s what she wants. Maybe a double wedding?” Emmett joked.

Justin stumbled over his feet, and only Brian's hand gripping his, kept him from falling. “I can imagine the look on Michael’s face if that’s what Debbie wants.”

“Judging by how stubborn both Debbie and Michael are…chances are you two will tie the knot before them,” Emmett said teasingly.

Justin grimaced, because all he could think of was Brian's comment from the previous night.

“You better dust off your notes for our wedding, then,” Brian said lightly.

“Or…more realistically, chances are a meteor will fall in the middle of the parade,” Emmett continued, not catching the serious undertone in Brian's words.

“Drinks at Woody’s?” Drew asked when they reached the bar.

“Anything, so we’ll escape the crowd,” Justin agreed.

“Shit.” Brian wrapped an arm around Justin's shoulder. “I didn’t think…Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“Stop. It’s fine, but not for too long. Make sense?”

Brian nodded, kissing Justin slowly. He kept him close, as they made their way up the stairs and inside Woody’s.

“Oh, my!” Emmett covered his mouth at the scene in front of them.

They had walked in on crazier things in Woody’s, but it had been a while since something like that happened. A drag queen had two hunks showing off their dicks so she could decide who would be the lucky one.

Justin reached up to cover Nick’s eyes, knowing he would be the one to blame if his son ended up traumatized.

“Maybe another time,” Brian said to Emmett. “We have young eyes, and this looks about to escalate into mild porn.”

The word were barely out of his mouth when the drag queen decided to rubs off both men in front of her.

“See you,” Justin called over his shoulder, steering Brian and Nick outside.

The parade seemed to have intensified. Everyone was singing, shouting, dancing. Brian kept Nick in one arm, with the boy’s face pressed into his shoulder, while he had his other arm around Justin, holding him tightly.

“I’m right here, Sunshine. You’re okay.”

Justin winced when people bumped into them, but he focused on his breathing and took small steps, keeping his eyes on the neon sign reading BABYLON. It was getting closer, and he could breathe easier with each step.

“Fuck,” Justin gasped, when they escaped the crowd to the safety of the alley leading to Babylon. “That was crazy.”

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Nick asked, worried.

“Yeah. Don’t worry. Let’s head home. How do burgers sound?”

“Yum!”

“Just the salad for me,” Brian quipped.

“Are you a bunny?” Nick asked, giggling, as Justin strapped him to his seat.

“Brian is not a big fan of meat…at least, not processed meat.”

“Oh, but I love meat,” Brian joked.

Justin shot him a scandalized look.

“Christ. What the fuck did I do wrong to fall for a WASP?”

“You needed my manners in your life,” Justin said seriously, sliding in the passenger seat. “We still need to stop by the store. We don’t have buns.”