15.

“That’s eight fifty, thanks.”

Justin smothered a yawn as he tucked the money into the cash register and handed the customer back his change.  Turning his eyes back down to the textbook in front of him, he resumed reading.  He had just over half an hour to go on his shift, and he could honestly say that he was now counting down the minutes.  He wasn’t sure what he needed more – sleep or food - but the thought of eating something from the Bain-Marie made his stomach clench with nausea.  While hotdogs were quick and tasty, they were also somewhat frightening when you knew they had been sitting there for over six hours already.

He’d fallen into this job by sheer luck; one of his classmates had been talking about the fact that she was resigning due to leaving the state, and Justin had overheard her.  A ten-minute conversation later, and Justin had the phone number for the store manager and an interview later that day.  The work wasn’t hard by any stretch of the imagination; monotony didn’t even come close to explaining how freaking boring it could be.  But the pay was really good, and his boss was easy to get along with – Ingrid didn’t even mind that he studied at the counter between customers.

But the ability to study was beyond him now; he was so tired, that the threat of bursting into what Daphne called cranky tears was a very real possibility.  He hadn’t slept well in a few days; every time he closed his eyes, he saw Brian.  Heard his voice whispering through his mind, telling Justin he had watched over him during the night after the bashing.  Asking for Justin’s friendship, if that’s all he was able to offer.  Justin didn’t know what to think, let alone feel about it.  Then there was the message that Brian had left on his cell phone.

“You’re right, I don’t fuck my friends.  But if you look up the definition of a friend, Justin, you’ll learn that it means someone who is a buddy.  A pal.  A fucking companion.  Try looking this word up instead; venerate.  Let me know when you know what it means.”

He’d gotten 723 in Verbal/Writing when he had taken his SATs, and Brian damn well knew that – he’d laid Justin out and made him tell him all the different ways you could say fuck, sex, and cock while you had a vibrating plug in your ass and was having your cock sucked.  Venerate – to regard with great respect; revere.  Synonyms included revere, reverence, respect, worship, adulate, hallow, deify, idolize, hold sacred, exalt, honor, esteem, look up to, think highly of, pay homage to, pay tribute to; adore, praise, extol, aggrandize, lionize, hold in awe, stand in awe of, marvel at, value, holy, and sacred.

Justin didn’t know what to think about that, either; so he tried not to.  He tried not to wonder what Brian was up to now; he’d made a mistake calling Brian from his cell phone considering the man now had the means to contact him, but anger had driven him out of his bed and into the cold night.  He’d paced the rooftop of his and Daphne’s apartment, while chain-smoking and glaring at the skyline, and before he quite knew it, he’d dialed the loft and had Brian’s voice echoing in his ear.  Venerate… what the fuck did it mean?  Why had Brian chosen that word?

He didn’t know who to talk to about it, either; Daphne was out.  She was far too angry with Brian to even hear his name, let alone hold a rational conversation.  While he knew he could go to either Ethan or Sam, Justin wasn’t ready to speak about Brian’s revelations.  He knew he could talk to Alex, but Justin hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit the man again just yet.  So, he spent his nights with Brian’s voice whispering through his mind, and Justin was ready to stick his head in a bucket of water in an effort to drown him out.  He didn’t need fucking saving – he was fine just the way he was.  While happiness might be a vague memory, numbness was better than pain as far as Justin was concerned.  Being numb beat out hurt, humiliation, and fear.  He didn’t understand why everyone was acting like he was one sneeze away from shattering; he was fine.  Fine with a capital fucking F!      

The sound of the bell over the door had Justin sighing as he closed his textbook; he had already read the same passage seven times.  Before he could look up, however, a container was set down in front of him.  Staring at the familiar red Tuppawear, Justin licked his lips slightly as he looked at the condensation that was clinging to the inside of the clear lid.  It took him a moment to raise his eyes, but when he did, he had to fight to keep his expression calm.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Justin swallowed as he stared at Debbie; her face was pale, highlighting the circles of rouge that were on her cheeks.  And as he stared at her, Debbie reached into her handbag and removed a paper bag.  The familiar scent of lemon fragranced the air, and Justin swallowed again as Debbie set the bag down beside the container.

“Three-cheese lasagna… your favorite,” Debbie said as she tapped a nail against the lid.  “And a lemon bar for dessert.” 

“How’d you find me?” Justin finally asked, and he winced when his voice cracked mid-sentence.

Debbie managed a smile, and they both tried to ignore how fake it was as it stretched across her face like a caricature.

“I couldn’t sleep because I had the sudden urge to make this lasagna,” she said finally.  “You and I are the only ones who appreciate the sheer beauty that is three kinds of cheese melted together, so I used my mom superpowers; I asked your mom if she thought it would be all right if I came to see you.”

When Debbie reached into her bag again, Justin could only stare at her when she withdrew a fork that had a napkin wrapped around it.  But when she held it out, Justin could see how badly her hand was shaking.  It was only when he hesitantly reached for it, that he saw the tears he had heard in her voice begin to slide unheeded down her cheeks.

“I’d better leave you to it,” she choked out, and Justin swallowed hard as she turned away.

“How are you getting home?”

Justin blurted it out without thinking, and Debbie turned back to face him with hope clearly shining on her face.

“I have the car.  How about you?” she asked softly, and Justin blinked before he shrugged.

“Catching the bus.  I finish at two.”

Debbie jerked as if he had slapped her, and before Justin could say another word, she drew herself up to her full height, and pointed at him with a fierce scowl on her face.

“If you think for one second that I am going to let you catch the bus home in this weather, at this time of night, then you have another thing coming!  Catching the bus, my ass!”

For a moment, it was like the last four months hadn’t happened; Justin ducked his head as color warmed his cheeks, and he found himself agreeing before he could think better of it.  Debbie huffed out an impatient breath, and then reached out to tap the lid of the container with a scarlet red nail again.

“Now eat your fucking lasagna before it goes cold – I didn’t spend three hours making it so that it could go to waste.”

It was only when Debbie set her bag down that her face cleared, and she looked towards Justin swiftly as color burned high on her cheeks.  But the smile that split her face was as bright as Justin had ever offered in the past, when he hesitantly reached out and pulled the container towards himself.  The scent of cheese and the rich tomato sauce filled the air, and Debbie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow when Justin hesitated.

“Eat… I don’t cook for fools, Justin.”

It was only when he had forked a bite into his mouth that Debbie leaned closer and spoke quietly with conviction firm in her voice.

“I cook for the people that I love best.  For my family.”

Justin ducked his head, but dutifully ate another mouthful.  Nodding her head, Debbie settled her hip against the counter, and under her watchful eye, Justin slowly made a dent in the food she had so carefully prepared.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Debbie turned the heater in her car up a notch as she waited for Justin to finish cashing out his register before the next employee arrived to relieve him.  Absently rubbing her chest, Debbie sighed; for a kid who had once sat at her table and had eaten nearly a full pan of three-cheese lasagna on his own, Justin was a shadow of his former self.  The container she had handed him earlier had held a single serving, and he had had to force himself to eat half of it before he had said that he was too full to eat another bite.

Her kid had always been a beauty, but that beauty had become so delicate that it had hurt to look at him.  He was so thin, he almost looked sick; his blue eyes looked so much larger than she had ever seen them due to how dominant his hollowed cheekbones were now.  Debbie pushed her troubling thoughts away when Justin stepped out of the BP and hesitated; Debbie took a deep breath when he took a step towards the bus stop before his shoulders slumped and he turned to trudge towards her car where she sat waiting.          

When he settled into the seat beside her, Debbie glanced at Justin for a minute before she pulled out of the BP and headed downtown; she had seen condemned men walk toward death row with a better spring in their step.  Justin didn’t say anything – he merely leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.  Perhaps Fate smiled down at Debbie that day – perhaps it decided to give the kid a break.  But within minutes, Justin was snoring quietly and leaving Debbie alone with her thoughts as she drove to where he was living.

She knew from personal experience that when Justin slept like this, he slept deeper than anyone she knew.  He was also the only man she knew who snored like a kitten with a belly full of milk – soft, snuffly sounds that were occasionally broken up by a grunt when he shifted.  Glancing over at him, Debbie smiled despite herself – nearly twenty years old, and the kid still looked young enough to be tucked in with a teddy bear and a bedtime story.

Parking at the front of the building that Justin lived in, Debbie reached out and brushed the hair away from his face.  She regretted that move, however, when Justin was startled out of sleep in such a fashion that he was catching her wrist in a bruising grip before his eyes had even opened.  He let go of her quickly enough, and although he didn’t voice the apology, she could clearly see it in his gaze as he stared at her.

“Thanks for the lift.”

Justin was out of the car and heading for the doors of the apartment building before Debbie could even speak.  It was only as he disappeared through them that she saw that he had left behind the book he had been reading when she walked into the BP.  Staring at the thick textbook, Debbie chewed her lip for a long minute before she turned the car off.  Picking the book up, she sighed when she saw that he had left the food behind, too; decision made, she tucked everything into her overly large bag, and climbed out into the iciness of the night.           

She knew which apartment Justin shared with Daphne – she’d always known.  But fear of Justin’s reaction and respect for Jennifer had meant that Debbie had stayed away – it had been the hardest thing she had ever done.  Locking the car behind her, Debbie walked into the dimly lit building and headed for the elevator she could see tucked into the back corner.  While she didn’t hesitate to be on her feet all day while working, there was no way in hell she was climbing four flights of stairs.      

Debbie sighed when the elevator eventually groaned its way up four floors, and when the doors slid open, she sighed again.  The corridor was as dimly lit as the entrance way, and smelled faintly of mildew.  Walking down the corridor, Deb bit her lip again as she stared at the door in front of her; Apartment 4B.  This was where Justin had hidden himself away – his safe place.  It took her several minutes to lift her hand and knock lightly on the door, and when she heard footsteps echoing towards the door, Debbie sent up a quick prayer that she wasn’t about to set Justin back again.

It wasn’t Justin who opened the door, however; Daphne’s face was sleep-creased, and her hair was fluffed up on one side.  She squinted at Debbie for a minute, before she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes like a cranky toddler who needed a nap. 

“What are you doing here?” Daphne asked.  “Justin said you’d dropped him off; he never said anything about you coming up.”

Debbie managed to smile as Daphne continued to guard the doorway; she knew that the next sentence out of her mouth would determine whether the girl would let her into the apartment or not.

“Justin left his book in my car,” she said, and Daphne sighed when Debbie managed to smile.

Shaking her head, Daphne stepped back and waved her hand in irritated invitation.

“Come in, then,” she muttered, and Debbie nodded as she stepped inside.

“He’s getting changed; I’ll let him know you’re here.  You can wait in the living room.” 

Debbie followed Daphne through the apartment; her eyes darted around the area as she walked, and she didn’t know whether to smile or cry when she recognized Justin’s touch mingling with Daphne’s in every room.  For the first time, she realized that Justin had obviously never felt at home in the loft or when he had lived with her and Vic.  He had never left an impression on either place the way he had here.

His art covered the walls; drawings that were bright bursts of colored pencil, and the more muted shades of grey in others.  Two large paintings, that were clear representations of Justin’s talent.  One was a spectacular landscape of Pittsburgh’s skyline at dawn, while the other was a portrait of Daphne herself; one half of her body was dressed in doctor’s whites, while the other was resplendent in her high school graduation robes.  Colorful knickknacks were scattered here and there, as were colored cushions.  

Debbie had just set her bag down on the coffee table that was cluttered with textbooks when Justin wandered into the living room.  He stopped short when he saw Debbie, who had to bite her tongue hard when she caught sight of him.  Clad only in thin grey sweatpants, Justin’s body was on full display; Debbie inhaled sharply when she saw the clear outline of his ribs, before Justin crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.

“You left your book in the car,” she said quietly as she watched the metaphorical storm clouds gather over his blond head, and then exhaled softly when Justin seemed to relax into himself before he nodded as she retrieved the book from her bag and held it out to him. 

“Thanks… I’ll need this for a class in a day or two,” he admitted as Debbie watched him cross the room to the coffee table and set it down on top of another thick art book.

It was only when Justin sank down onto the couch that Debbie set her bag down and hesitantly joined him as he lit a cigarette and leaned back against the arm of the couch.  Justin seemed content to let the silence linger between them, while Debbie wondered what she could possibly say to the young man who watched her with guarded eyes.  Daphne shuffled back into the living room, and Debbie finally broke the silence as Daphne silently handed her a steaming mug of tea.

“Thank you, Daphne,” she said quietly, and Daphne shrugged as she handed the other mug to Justin.

“I’m heading to bed, Justin.  What time is your class tomorrow?” she asked, and Justin took a sip of his drink before answering.

“It was supposed to be at eleven, but the class was canceled.  I might head in anyway and see if I can’t get some studio time in before my late class.  I’ll be home around six.”

Daphne nodded and bent her head to brush her lips lightly over Justin’s; she glanced at Debbie with a warning shining clearly in her eyes before she left the room.

“How’s school?” Debbie finally asked, and Justin shrugged as a door was shut quietly down the corridor.

“It’s okay.”

Debbie bit her lip again as Justin silently watched her over the rim of his mug; swallowing hard, Debbie leaned forward to set her mug on the coffee table.

“I know you don’t want me here, Justin,” she said quietly, only to have Justin groan under his breath before he lowered his eyes.

“It’s not that, Debbie,” he said finally.  “I just don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Anything,” Debbie said gently.  “Say anything you want, Justin.  Tell me about school.  Or your job.  Or tell me about whatever cute guy you fucked recently.  You can tell me whatever you want, even if that means that you tell me to fuck off.”

Justin nodded as he sipped his drink; Debbie settled more fully onto the couch as Justin stared down into his mug.  But when he finally looked back up at her, there was something in his steady gaze that told her to tread very carefully.

“Did you invite me to live with you because Brian had kicked me out and I had nowhere else to go?  Was it because my mom was paying you?  Or did you actually want me there?”

Debbie smiled slightly; the guarded look in his eyes was there, but the roundness of his shoulders told her far more than anything else.

“Are you kidding me?” she said with a smile.  “I was thrilled to have this gorgeous twink running up and down my stairs and eating me out of house and home.  Always nudging me out the way, so that he could do the dishes because I’d worked all day.  Eating my three-cheese lasagna at half past two in the morning, because we both had the munchies… it was a dream come fucking true, Justin.  To have that youthful vibrancy in the house again after so long?  It made it feel like an actual home. 

“Having you there helped Vic feel like he was still a man, rather than a disease when you would practice your flirting on him.  It made me feel like I had gained another son; one who was happy to dance with me around the kitchen, rather than act like I was an embarrassment to him.  Did the money your mom give me help?  Of course, it did.  But I would have taken you in whether there was money offered or not, Justin.  It wasn’t because Brian asked me to, or because your mom was paying me, kiddo; I took you in because I love you.”

“Then why…”

Justin broke off and shook his head, leaving Debbie to try and fill in the gaps.

“Why what, Justin?” she said gently.  “Why did I get so angry over Ethan?  Why did I step away from you?  Why have I stayed away?” she asked.  “I’ll answer all those questions; I stayed away, because I was told to by your mom.  I stepped away, because I didn’t want to take sides.  I know that you thought I had, but I didn’t want to interfere in your relationship with Brian – you have enough of that from the others, without me adding my two cents’ worth.

“As for why I got so angry with you, it’s because I thought that you were hurting Brian.  He had never opened up before, Justin; had never let someone in behind the walls the way he did with you, and I didn’t know that Ethan had a boyfriend.  None of us did.  That’s on me, and that’s on Michael, and all I can do now is apologize for what happened, and ask you to let us back in.”

Justin snickered softly as his face twisted.

“You know what always pissed me off the most, Deb?” he asked.  “You all expected me to put up with what Brian dished out.  But the mere thought of me cheating on him?  And I got kicked to the curb… how the fuck does that work, when according to Brian and Michael and Lindsay, we weren’t even in a relationship?  You can’t cheat on someone that you are merely fucking; Michael told me that.  But the minute it was me?  Oh, he’s cheating on Brian!  That ungrateful shit!”

“Justin…” Debbie said quietly, but Justin ignored her as he took a sip of his tea and then continued to speak.

“You said that I understood him; I didn’t.  Not really.  By the time I worked out that I wasn’t willing to settle for being his backup fuck anymore, I had twisted myself into the person that I thought he wanted, the person you all told me I had to become in order to be with him.  I looked in the mirror the night before the Rage party, Deb, and I didn’t even recognize myself; the person looking back at me was a person that I couldn’t stand,” Justin said flatly.

“I had become so dependent on him that I settled for public fucking.  Threesomes and taking drugs, when I knew that the cocktail might kill me if it had Tylenol in it.  I got used to walking into the place I thought was my home, and finding him fucking other guys, and having to hide how much it hurt me.  But that was just Brian, right?  Monogamy has no place in a gay relationship, yet Michael demands it from Ben.  Lindsay demands it from Mel.  Yet I wasn’t allowed to even think the word, let alone ask for it, not that I would, because I enjoyed fucking ‘cute guys’ too much.”

Debbie swallowed hard as Justin paused to gather his thoughts. To hear it from Justin’s point of view made her squirm uncomfortably.  If a man had treated Michael like this, Debbie knew that she would be baying for his blood; the guilt left a sour taste in her mouth, and an active wish for a joint or a glass of something really strong to wash it away.  But then Justin looked back up at her, and Debbie mentally braced herself.

“Brian told me that I had wanted romance and flowers and monogamy – for maybe five minutes when I was seventeen?  Sure.  But it wasn’t me who wanted it, Deb; who put the ideas in his head.  Those ideas came from you, and Lindsay, and Michael.  I wasn’t in a relationship with Brian; I was in a fuck fest with the rest of YOU; I had no say in what went on in that cluster fuck, but the rest of you did.  I couldn’t even complain about the things that Michael said to me without you or Brian jumping all over me in his defense.  Why the fuck would I want to come back to that?”    

Debbie shook her head helplessly as Justin sipped his drink.  What could she really say in the face of his argument, when everything he said was true?  She settled for reaching into her bag and withdrawing the lemon bar, which she broke in half and offered to Justin.  When he finally took the offered treat, she tilted her head as he nibbled on it, while she gathered her thoughts.

“I can only say how sorry I am,” she said finally, and Justin smirked as he mouthed ‘Sorry’s bullshit’.  “It’s not bullshit, Justin.  Not when you truly mean it and feel it; I had no idea that we as a family made you feel like that.  I knew that everyone, including me, had interfered in your relationship with Brian in the past.  But things would be different this time.”

“Yeah, see Brian said that, too,” Justin interrupted.  “And I’m sure that for a few weeks it would be.  Can’t upset Boy Wonder; he might feel neglected and try to kill himself again to get some attention,” Justin said bitterly. 

Debbie inhaled sharply; she couldn’t help it.  It wasn’t Justin’s voice she heard in that statement – it was Michael’s.  And when Justin’s face twisted briefly in pain, she was left wondering what else Michael had said to Justin in the past that no one else knew about.

“But then things would return to the way they were – Brian would shove his tricking in my face when something set him off; whether it was a bad day at work or one of you guys giving him shit about me, it wasn’t you who copped it, Debbie.  It was me who bore the brunt of Brian self-destructing; me, who he deliberately tried to hurt.  Michael and Lindsay would tell me that I was stupid for expecting him to respect my feelings.  And I would be left feeling like I was less than a fuck to him.  It’s not worth it.  I deserve better than that; I won’t accept anything less than a full partnership from any man I meet in the future.”

In the silence that followed Justin’s quietly spoken vow, Debbie scrambled to gather her thoughts into coherent order.

“What if we started small, Justin?” she finally asked.  “You could come to dinner; just you, me, and Vic.  It doesn’t have to have anything to do with Michael or Lindsay or Brian.  If you don’t want to see them, then they would be told to stay away.”

“Why?” Justin asked as he set his mug down. 

“Why?” Debbie echoed, and Justin shrugged.

“Why should they stay away, Debbie?  They’re your family.”

Staring at him in the silence that followed, Debbie finally set her own mug down and leaned forward to speak firmly.

“You are my family, too, Justin.  And I am so fucking sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t.  I love you, kiddo; I love everything about you, from the top of your blond head, to the tips of your ticklish fucking toes.  I know that you are sick right now; I’ve read up a lot on depression since you were in the hospital, and I understand that your viewpoint can be twisted – that you begin to doubt everything you think and know.  Never doubt how much Vic and I love you, Justin.  You were a gift to us, a gift that kept giving.  Let Vic and I give back to you now.  Please… come to dinner and let us prove to you how much we have missed you and how much we love you.  Bring Daphne if you want, or Ethan and Sam.  But please, give us that chance; I swear, I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”

Justin lowered his eyes as Debbie stared at him, before he finally gave a tiny nod of his head.  And as they sat there in silence, Debbie settled her hand against the couch; when she felt the barely-there touch of Justin’s toes against the side of her hand, she simply smiled as Justin pulled his foot away seconds later.  But it was a start, and that was all she could ask for.