She knew that her perception of the depths of sheer cruelty and depravity to which the human soul could descend would soon be forever changed. Unfortunately, those changes would not be for the better. Alice McCarthy had thought, naively, that little could make her views of humanity even more jaded. And yes, she was jaded. She had simply seen too much in her profession - in her life - to avoid that particular pitfall. Just the sheer number of patients with histories of abuse and neglect that she had treated had accomplished that feat years ago. But... what she had witnessed, what this young man only hinted at unmasking today had the potential to make her previous cynicism seem like a day in the park.

Brian had been completely incapable of continuing the session following the identification of his abusers. She wasn't even sure at this point if the Brian personality fully knew on a conscious level the extent of abuse he had suffered. But he did know the perpetrators, and following that admission he had retreated into a nearly catatonic mental state. She knew, however, that somewhere within his psyche... within one of the alters he used for survival... there was an answer. A keeper of the secret. A key. And finding that key was absolutely necessary to unlocking the prison he had paradoxically created in order to retain some control... some freedom.

Dr. McCarthy closed the folder she had notated and updated, and placed it securely in her locked file before she turned out her office lights and locked the door. As she walked the nearly empty hall to leave emergency instructions with the charge nurse, she passed the large window of the family waiting room.

"Justin. Please go home. Get some rest," she gently ordered as she stood beside the young man dozing in the battered waiting room chair.

"Can't," he responded with a yawn. "I have to be here."

"He's been sedated, Justin. He won't wake up tonight. I promise." Justin Taylor, she was discovering, was an amazingly persistent and loyal young man. As positive as that was for his partner's recovery, it was potentially hazardous for his own physical health.

"Doesn't matter. I'm staying." The young man straightened himself in the chair and turned his focus to the suspended television in the corner of the room, pretending to absorb himself in the grainy picture and muted volume.

"You know, I admire what you did with him today. That was a terrifying experience and you handled it with a great amount of courage and insight - almost as if you had been trained in this."

"Oh, trust me, I have been," Justin laughed sadly. "I studied at the Kinney Institute for five years." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and steepled his fingers against his lips before continuing. "It suddenly struck me that I had done this before. With him. All those times that he... he pushed me away, for my own good, as he said. Every time his mood or behavior seemed to change in the blink of an eye. I was talking to, fighting with, working with, having sex with one of those alters. A different part of Brian. I knew Sonny. And Sonny knew me. There was no danger, not to me."

"That may not be true another time, Justin." The doctor spoke calmly, but wanted to impress upon Justin exactly the amount of danger that may be, literally, just under the surface. "Brian is obviously volatile right now. He's struggling so hard to finally deal with his... abuse. Some catalyst has created a need for him to remember, on a conscious level. That's why, I believe, the switching is occurring so often and so rapidly. The alters are pulling in different directions from the host, perhaps. I have no doubt that we can help Brian get through this, believe me, but it isn't going to be quick or easy. And when he does remember, when he has to face his own... reality..." She paused and covered one of Justin's hands with her. "...it will most likely be cataclysmic."

Justin closed his eyes and rested his head against the dull beige wall.

"I know," he whispered.

*******

Emmett sat at the small table near the back of Woody's and took in his friend's heated monologue. He had stopped actively participating in any real conversation when he realized Michael was in no frame of mind to listen to reason. But that's the way it usually went when Brian was the center of Michael's ramblings. The perverse nature of Michael's obsession with the legendary Brian Kinney was the stuff of its own legend. There wasn't a queer on Liberty Avenue who didn't at least suspect Michael's true feelings about their reigning stud.

"And that little shit - and his mommy - actually threatened me! He fucking thinks he knows what Brian needs, what's best for him. Bullshit! I've known Brian longer than anyone and I know. I know!" Michael's voice had raised to a near shout and the room was now beginning to focus on the obviously angry man.

"Honey, I think we need to call Ben to come take your cute little tush home." Emmett knew that diffusing the situation - hell, just getting rid of the situation altogether - would be much better than allowing this room full of queers more fuel for their rumor mill. Michael continued on as if Emmett had not even spoken.

"They aren't partners! They've never been partners! Fuck buddies... That's all. And fuck buddies don't get to make decisions like this for each other. He's such a fucking shit!"

"Michael! Just where the hell have you been for the last five years? Justin and Brian have been partners for a long, long time. You may not like it, but that doesn't make it untrue. Now, we let Brian down, but that boy hasn't. He's right where he should be - by his partner's side!" Emmett had heard this same damned speech, in one form or another, too many times. "I'm calling your husband."

"The hell! You sound just like that shit and his mother! I'm not going home," Michael was virtually yelling in anger and frustration at this point. And the words were not lost on the room full of men. "I'm going to the hospital. That stupid twink's got Brian locked up in the looney bin, with psychiatrists and pills and god knows what else, and I'm going to find out just what the fuck is really going on! Why the fuck he just freaked out and disappeared on us!"

 Emmett thought his heart would stop. Sweet Jesus. What is this fool doing? He did not just put that shit out there for all of Liberty Avenue to hear. He pulled out his phone.

"Ben, you need to get over here right now, sweetie. Your husband has just laid out all Brian's cards on the table for every queer in the room... No... Ben, they ALL heard it. You need to be herenow." Closing his phone, Emmett, placed his hand on Michael's arm.

"Michael, I'm going to say this one time and you are going to fucking hear me. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Now."

An angry Emmett Honeycutt was an unusual sight and an unexpectedly intimidating presence. Michael could feel the rage radiating from the strong queen. He looked around the room and saw the eyes on him, knowing what he had said and what they had heard. Shit. He didn't feel the least bit bad about what he had said, but he hadn't meant to say it here - now.

"Emmett..." he began.

"Not another fucking word, Michael! I'm warning you. He is our friend! And you have just betrayed him in a very dangerous way."

Michael slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes. He knew he had just made a huge mistake. As he waited for his husband, he tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Brian had always forgiven him when he screwed up. He would forgive him anything. He had no idea just how wrong he was.

*******

He felt the phone vibrate in his pocket and fought through his mental fog to find the damned thing.

"Yeah. Hello?"

"Baby, it's Em. I need to talk with you. Can you meet me?"

"Em, what's going on? I'm still at the hospital."

"Honey, it's almost midnight! What are you still doing there? No, don't answer that. I know the answer. But, Justin, you have to rest and I really do need to talk with you. You know I wouldn't call this late if it wasn't important." Even though his sleepy haze, Justin could hear the urgency in his friend's voice.

"Yeah, okay. I guess I need to shower and change. Give me time to get to the loft and them come over." He paused for a fraction of a second. "Emmett, are you okay?"

"No, baby, I'm not. I think it may be a long time before I'm okay again. I'll talk with you in a bit, alright?"

"Yeah. Later."

Justin pulled himself to his feet and collected his belongings. Walking toward the hospital exit, he hoped he would have time for a shower before dealing with Emmett's crisis.

*******

He felt the pulsing of their excitement. Men stood around him, their mocking laughter ripe with taunts. He could feel their heat, smell their sweat, taste their blood lust in the air.

In the center of the floor the small, doe eyed child shivered as the bodies continued to move toward him. Heads tossing back, arms hanging by their sides, the bodies jerked closer in an awkward rhythm.

Along his jaw, he felt the cold nose of the small animal quaking in his arms. Whimpers. Cries.

C'mon, Sonny Boy... nonononono!... He pissed on our rug... no!... Do it, Sonny Boy... nooopleaseplease... Be a man, Sonny Boy... pleeeaasenoooo... Love is for sissies, Sonny Boy...

Red slid down his arms, wet and warm and slick. Whimpers silent. He crawled back inside himself.      

Brian's body shook uncontrollably, fighting off the terror he couldn't wake from. He heard his own voice cry out, scream out, "NOOOOO", again and again, felt the gentle hand on his arm and the sweet sting as the sedation moved inside his veins. And the voices quieted. And the visions dimmed. And the world faded out to black.

*******

Emmett stood by the great window in the loft, looking down on the dark, empty street, thinking how appropriate the desolate scene was. Without knowing what it was, he felt the burden of this huge secret bearing down on him. He had never felt so... empty. So dark.

"Um...," he struggled to being. "It's Michael."

"God. I should have known. What has he done?"

"He was angry, baby. Messed up, like he always is where Brian is concerned. We were at Woody's..."

"Em?" The battle to stay focused, to stay calm was evident in Emmett's voice - and Justin felt an ominous chill run through his body. "What has he done?"

"He was carrying on - about you and Brian. I couldn't get him to shut the fuck up, baby! I tried... but he... got loud. Everyone was there, and they heard him..."

Justin grabbed his friend's hand and pulled him toward the sofa.

"He wasn't trying to tell them, but, oh, he did. They all know where Brian is, that he's in the psychiatric unit. God, Justin. They know about the disappearance. Everything! I could kill him!"

"Fuck! Fuck!" Justin knew what everyone could expect - what Brian could expect - to be the headline in the fucking rags tomorrow. "Christ! That fucking piece of shit."

"Honey, no one knows, except you, what's really going on. At least he can't let that cat out of the bag."

"Do you really think it will take any more than a couple of fucking dollars to the right person for some scumbag to find out? Emmett, you really... really don't have any idea as to what Michael has really done. Brian will be devastated. More so because it was his friend who betrayed him."  

"Yeah," Emmett breathed out. "I read somewhere that Judas was a friend, too."