“Just how long will these days take, waiting for an earthquake...
Seems one already came…”

- “7 Minutes,” Circlesquare

*****

Rob had just wrapped up his morning yoga practice and was lying on the bed, getting dressed for the day, when his cell phone started to buzz. Hurriedly, he finished zipping and buttoning his pants, sat up, and transferred himself quickly to his wheelchair, so he could get to his phone, which was lying on the dresser.

As he made his way across the room, he said a silent prayer that the extended time that the phone had been ringing wouldn’t wake up Esmeralda and Sophia. At the same time, he was wondering who on earth was calling him this early on a Sunday. His mother was a morning person, and knew he was as well, but she was too polite to call anyone before 8 or 9 o’clock -- even someone else she knew would be up.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw it was Justin.

Justin never called him, ever. They were friends, but their interaction was mostly in person. If he was going to get a phone call from the collective unit that was Brian-and-Justin, that call came from Brian. So this was unusual, to say the least.

And it worried him. Particularly given the way Brian had been acting during dinner the night before.

Rob could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he answered the phone.

“Justin?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

All Rob could hear was heavy breathing. Breathing that was unsteady, and too fast. He knew Justin sometimes had panic attacks, but he’d never witnessed one. This sounded like one. And he knew he had to push his own apprehension aside and be a calming, grounding presence.

But he had no idea why Justin would be calling him in the middle of a panic attack. Brian should have been there with him. Shouldn’t he?

Rob had no idea where else Brian would be, but if he wasn’t with Justin, then someone needed to be. So Rob put his shoes on as quickly as he could with the phone cradled between his shoulder and his cheek, then picked up his wallet and his keys and went out into the living room, where he could see Adam in the kitchen, just starting to brew a pot of coffee.

“Justin, where’s Brian?” Rob said, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Can you get Brian?”

Adam turned to face him, his brow furrowed. Rob mouthed, I don’t know, but something’s wrong.

Justin’s only response was a barely audible, very shaky, “No.”

What the hell was going on? Rob needed more information. He also needed to put the phone down so he could put his jacket on.

“Where are you?” he asked. “Are you at home? Hold on a second, I’m putting you on speaker.”

Rob laid the phone on his thigh while he shrugged his jacket on. He’d just gotten it zipped when he heard Justin say, “We’re at the hospital.”

Those three words gave Rob more questions than answers. Why were they at the hospital? For whom? For Justin or for Brian? Where was Brian in all of this?

He got Justin to tell him which hospital, then took the phone back off of speaker and held it to his ear again. He knew he probably shouldn’t overwhelm Justin with questions right now, but he was desperate to know what was happening. So he asked.

“Justin, what’s going on?” he said. “Are you okay? Is Brian okay? What happened?” He could hear the slight note of alarm beginning to rise in his own voice, and he knew he had to keep it under control, or he was only going to make Justin more agitated than he already was.

And, just as he expected might happen, he received no response. All he could hear was Justin breathing. Sounding like he was teetering on the edge of losing control. Shit.

Whatever was happening, he knew Justin needed reassurance. And it was probably going to take him at least 30 minutes to get there by taxi cab, assuming he managed to hail one fairly quickly, which could be a challenge at this hour on a weekend.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said, hoping that his words were comforting. “Just breathe for me, okay? Remember what I showed you. Focus on your breath.”

Rob had no idea if Justin had even been using the breathing exercise he’d taught him, beyond that first time when they’d done it together, but it was all he could think of to try to help Justin ground himself.

Through the phone, he barely heard Justin whisper, “Okay.”

Maybe if he could get Justin focusing on taking deep breaths, he’d be all right until Rob could get there and figure out what the hell was happening.

“Good,” he said, trying to sound encouraging even as his own worry about this unknown but obviously serious situation continued to increase. “That’s good. You’re okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

He hoped he wasn’t wrong there, given that he didn’t know what was going on or what had Justin so upset. And more importantly, why Justin wasn’t with Brian and couldn’t get to Brian right now. But it seemed like it was what Justin might need to hear.

Rob hated to hang up the phone, but he needed to say goodbye to Adam and hail a cab so he could get to the hospital.

“Justin, I have to hang up now so I can get a cab,” he said. “But I’ll be there soon.”

Reluctantly, he took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. By now, Adam was standing next to him, his eyebrows raised and his forehead creased with worry.

“What’s going on?” Adam said softly. “Why are they at the hospital?”

“I don’t know,” Rob said. “But something isn’t right. I need to get over there. I’ll call you when I know more.”

Adam leaned down and kissed him, and Rob went out the door. He had to wait a minute for the elevator to get to their floor, but he was grateful that they didn’t live in a high-rise where it might have taken even longer. When he got out on the sidewalk, he prayed that he’d be able to hail a cab quickly, and his wish was granted when the first one he saw pulled over to pick him up. He gave the driver his destination, and asked him to please get him there as soon as possible.

The cab ride was wild, and Rob was glad he had a seat belt on, because it was reminding him why he didn’t often ride in taxi cabs. He much preferred the predictability of the subway -- not to mention the excellent people-watching. A couple of times, he had to use his hand to hold the pieces of his wheelchair steady alongside him in the back seat of the cab to keep them from sliding over into his side as they went around corners a little too quickly.

As they crossed the Manhattan Bridge, he looked down river toward the iconic Brooklyn Bridge and the lower Manhattan skyline. It was a peaceful view this early on a Sunday morning. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be much longer until he arrived at the hospital, and he could start making some headway toward figuring out what had happened that had Justin in such a state.

Rob would have been lying if he said he wasn’t anxious himself. Brian and Justin were good friends, and he wouldn’t want anything to happen to either one of them. He was having to work very hard to keep from running various scenarios in his head for what could have happened. There was no point in going down that particular rabbit hole. He’d know what was happening soon enough, and he could go from there.

Still, there were a lot of possibilities, and he knew that many of them were not good.

He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and sent Justin a quick text message: Just checking on you. Let me know where I can find you when I get there.

It took a couple of minutes before he received a response, and when he did, it simply said, ER waiting room.

So, based on that, they must have been there for Brian, if Justin was in the waiting room by himself. That took Rob’s list of possibilities in a slightly different turn. He’d known something wasn’t right with Brian during dinner the previous night, but he never would have guessed it to be anything that would have landed Brian in the emergency room.

He’d picked up on the fact that Brian was tired because he hadn’t been getting enough sleep, and it had been obvious that he was in pain, but Rob had assumed that to also be related to working too much. He knew firsthand how that could be. But it hadn’t seemed like an emergency at all -- it just seemed like Brian needed more rest. Apparently there had been much more going on than Brian had been willing to let on. That didn’t particularly surprise Rob, because he knew Brian was the type of person who was going to say he was fine even when he wasn’t. He’d been that way for all nine of the years Rob had known him, and probably long before that. So he hadn’t been surprised when Brian had kept insisting that he was fine, and he’d suspected that much more was happening below the surface than Brian had been willing to admit, but this seemed much more serious than he’d anticipated.

He knew Brian wasn’t religious, and really, neither was he, but he did believe in a higher power. So he took a moment to say a prayer for his friend -- that whatever was happening, it was something Brian would make a full recovery from.

The sidewalks outside the windows of the cab were getting busier in the early morning sunlight. People out walking their dogs, getting their coffee and their newspapers and their bagels and pastries, going about their day. Exactly as Rob and Adam had planned on doing that day as well -- their usual Sunday routine included bagels with a ridiculous amount of cream cheese from the shop around the corner from their apartment building as they drank their coffee and perused the Sunday edition of The New York Times while Esme and Sophia sat in the living room floor and watched cartoons. It was supposed to be warm that afternoon, so they’d promised the girls they’d take them to Coney Island. That obviously wasn’t happening now.

But that was okay. Sometimes plans change when people you care about need you.

Just like his plans had changed over the holidays when he’d found out Justin had been in an accident on his way back home to Pittsburgh. And even then, Brian had tried to insist he was fine, even when it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t, and no one in their right mind ever would have expected him to be.

His husband had been seriously injured in an accident -- if ever there was a time to not be “fine,” that would have been it.

When Rob had arrived in Pittsburgh, he’d seen exactly what he thought he’d see -- Brian plowing through the situation, trying to feel as little as possible. He’d thrown every ounce of his energy into worrying about Justin and trying to take care of Justin’s needs, ignoring his own. And it wasn’t just physical -- it was psychological too.

As much as Brian insisted that he was fine, Rob had been able to clearly see that he wasn’t. Brian tried to hide it, and he was fairly good at that -- a lot of practice, Rob supposed. But Rob prided himself on being a fairly perceptive person, and Brian Kinney didn’t escape that perception, no matter how much he might have wanted to.

Brian had been teetering on the edge of falling apart. Rob had seen it, and he was sure that Brian knew it too, but he never would admit it. It continued through the rest of Justin’s time in the hospital and in rehab, and Rob witnessed every bit of it until he had to go home. In some ways, Rob felt like he’d been waiting for the implosion, but it never came. And when Brian and Justin had come home, what Rob saw was more of the same. Brian focusing most of his energy on Justin, this time with work thrown into the mix as well, with nothing left for himself. Almost like he was grateful for the distraction -- an excuse to move his focus from something that made him feel uncomfortable.

Rob had a strong suspicion that he knew what Brian was wanting to be distracted from, too -- the post-traumatic stress that he and Justin both suffered from as a result of what had happened at Justin’s prom. He knew that Brian wanted to pretend it wasn’t an issue for him, and that it was something that had happened to Justin and not to him, but neither of those things were true. Brian needed to deal with his feelings about it, but instead, he was hiding from them. He’d rather suffer in silence than admit that he needed support.

Rob didn’t really know why Brian was so reluctant to admit when something was wrong. All he could figure was that admitting something was wrong, to Brian, was essentially the same thing as saying, “I need help,” which was a phrase Brian Kinney seemed to avoid at all costs. And sometimes that cost could be very high.

Now was apparently one of those times.

He wished he would have pushed harder when he and Brian had talked after dinner the night before -- that he would have refused to let Brian shut the conversation down the way he always did, and he would have somehow gotten out of him what was actually going on. Maybe this could have all been avoided, for Brian’s sake as well as Justin’s. Although it was probably too late by that point. Whatever this was, the wheels had likely been set in motion a long time ago.

This, Brian had hidden from him -- and maybe from himself as well.

Even with everything that had been going on with Justin, Rob couldn’t imagine Brian purposely ignoring something that he knew to be this serious -- serious enough to land him in the ER.

Rob was jolted out of his thoughts when the cab came to a less-than-graceful stop outside of the emergency room doors. He paid the driver, giving him a generous tip for getting him there in about 20 minutes, which was impressive. Quickly, he put his chair back together and got himself out of the car, thanked the driver again, and turned to go through the automatic sliding glass doors and into the harsh fluorescent light of the room that served as a combination lobby and waiting room for the emergency department.

It looked to be a busy morning, and it took Rob a moment of scanning to spot Justin, curled up in a chair against the far wall, his feet in the seat and his knees pulled up to his chest, like he was protecting himself from something. The closer Rob got, the more he could see that Justin looked exactly as he had on the phone -- like he was on the verge of breaking down, but he was trying really, really hard to hold himself together. He was gulping somewhat-deep, too-quick breaths, and his hand that was wrapped around his shins was trembling. His head was down, and his posture told Rob that if Justin could have sunk into the wall or the floor or anywhere else at that moment, he would have.

Rob’s first instinct when he got to Justin was to reach out and touch him, because he wanted to provide comfort, but the instant Rob’s hand made contact with Justin’s, Justin jerked his away and cried, “Don’t touch me!” His voice was high-pitched and loud enough to get the attention of a few of the other people in the waiting room, who turned to look curiously in their direction. Justin recoiled back even further in the chair, so that he was curled into as small of a space as he could possibly get.

Rob pulled his hand back slowly, startled by Justin’s reaction. He knew about Justin’s anxiety and about the panic attacks it sometimes caused, but he hadn’t thought about it including a fear of being touched, although it made sense, considering that the source of it was the experience of being hit in the head with a baseball bat -- an experience Rob couldn’t even begin to fathom. Rob hated that he’d made things worse, because that was the last thing he wanted to do. He was here to try to make things better, at least to the extent that he could.

“Hey,” Rob said softly, keeping his hands in his lap as he fought the impulse to reach out again. “It’s me. It’s all right. What can I do to help?”

It took Justin a few seconds -- and a few more shallow, panicked breaths -- before he looked up at Rob, then reached out and grabbed his hand, hard. Justin had a death grip on Rob’s hand, to the point where it hurt a little, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it. If that was what Justin needed to feel a little bit of comfort and calm, then it was okay. He squeezed it back, and hoped it helped.

Justin’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, and the more he looked at Rob, the more Rob wanted to give him a hug, but he wasn’t sure if that would be okay. Probably not. Rob was quickly realizing that it was really fucking hard to look at someone who was in desperate need of solace and not be able to touch them. Hopefully holding his hand was enough.

“I’m sorry,” Justin whispered, in between heavy breaths. “Sorry I yelled at you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Rob squeezed Justin’s hand more firmly. “That was my mistake. I shouldn’t have startled you. I should have let you know it was me.”

At that moment, Justin’s hand went slack in Rob’s grip as the tears started to fall.

“This is all my fault,” Justin said, so quietly that Rob could hardly hear him. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his right hand and hugged his legs in close again.

“What’s your fault?”

“All of this. I should have seen it.”

Rob didn’t get a chance to ask what Justin meant by that, before Justin had his face buried in his knees, crying harder now.

“It's not your fault,” Rob said, tightening his grip on Justin's now-limp hand, all too aware that he still had no idea what “it” was, but he seriously doubted that any of this was Justin's fault, no matter what it was. It was anxiety that was telling Justin it was. “It's not your fault,” he repeated, keeping his voice soft and hopefully soothing.

He watched Justin for a minute, just holding his hand, saying nothing, still trying to figure out the situation. When it seemed like Justin was starting to catch his breath, Rob laid his other hand over Justin’s, so that he was holding Justin’s left hand in both of his.

“What can I do to help?” he asked again, in a low voice.

Justin looked up at him again, his eyes still glistening with tears. The look in his eyes spoke volumes -- he was petrified, but he didn’t know what to ask for. He reminded Rob of one of his and Adam’s girls in that moment, because he looked like a scared child, rather than a grown man.

“Can I hug you?” Rob asked, hoping and praying that the answer would be yes, because feeling powerless was tearing his heart out right now.

All in one motion, Justin unfolded his legs and practically threw himself into Rob’s arms, clinging to him. The fingers of Justin’s left hand were digging into Rob’s back as his body sagged into Rob’s, his face buried in Rob’s shoulder. Rob held him tighter as Justin let go of everything he’d been holding on to, his chest and shoulders shaking with quiet sobs as he cried.

They sat that way for a long time, with Rob saying nothing, just taking deep, even, slow breaths, and hoping Justin would start to adopt that pattern as well. Eventually, he did. Rob continued holding Justin’s body close as the trembling slowed and stopped. It was as if he could feel Justin’s entire energy shift right there in his arms, from terrified and lost, to having some semblance of control.

“Shit,” Justin said softly as he sat up and wiped his eyes with his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for. I’m here to help you. Whatever you need.”

Rob was just about to ask where Brian was, so he could try to figure out gentle ways to ask what Justin knew about what was going on, when someone came up behind him and addressed Justin by name.

“Justin Taylor?” the woman said. Justin nodded. “Mr. Kinney’s in his room. I’ll take you up now.”

Justin breathed an audible sigh of relief and pushed himself up from the chair, having to pause for a second to steady himself as he stood.

Rob followed both of them down the hallway to the elevators, and then up several floors. Rob had never been in this hospital before, so he had no idea what was what, and the fact that they were going to the seventh floor told him nothing about what was going on with Brian. He’d have to continue to work on figuring that out when they got upstairs. Hopefully -- maybe -- he might be able to ask Brian himself, rather than risk putting Justin through any additional stress.

Rob’s hopes for being able to talk to Brian were dashed, at least for the moment, when they got to the room and Brian was asleep. He looked ill -- in a way he hadn’t looked just 12 hours before when they’d been having dinner together -- and they had him hooked up to all sorts of monitors. But at least he was finally getting some of the rest that he badly needed.

There was a urine collection bag hanging at the end of the bed, and Rob could clearly see that there was blood -- quite a bit of blood, it looked like. So that gave him at least some clue as to what had brought Brian and Justin to the hospital, although it still didn’t give him all of the answers.

He’d been right there before, in Brian’s position, several years ago, thanks to a large kidney stone that he’d ultimately had to have surgery to remove. It had certainly been a scary situation, and an uncomfortable one even with his lack of sensation in that area. He could only imagine, if this was the same sort of thing, what Brian’s experience would have been like. Brian probably had at least some sensation there, even if it was “off.” Rob had never experienced having a kidney stone with sensation, but he’d heard it was excruciating. Hopefully it hadn’t been that way for Brian, if that’s what was happening here.

Rob was still taking in the situation when he heard Justin speak to the nurse, his voice bearing a hint of desperation.

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” Justin said. “I want to talk to him.”

“He was given a pretty strong sedative,” the nurse said. “I think he’ll be out for a few more hours yet. And when he comes to, he may not be up for conversation.”

“Oh,” Justin said softly, looking down at the ground. “I just… I need to hear his voice.”

“Give him some time,” she said reassuringly. “My name’s Nancy, and I’ll be here until after dinner tonight. If either of you need anything, just let me know. The call button’s right here.” She reached down and moved it closer to Brian’s hand. “But, like I said, I think you’ve got a few hours yet before he wakes up. Dr. Gibson should be in to talk with you in a couple of minutes. I think I just saw her come out of the elevator.”

Justin thanked her, and she gave him a small smile as she left the room.

The doctor came through the door seconds after that, and Rob took that moment to excuse himself, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to hear any of what the doctor had to say since Brian wasn’t conscious to say whether or not it was okay. He wanted to respect Brian’s privacy, and he also needed to call Adam, so he patted Justin’s shoulder and said he’d be outside if Justin needed him. Justin nodded, and Rob could see the fear in his eyes as he took a deep breath. Rob looked up at him and squeezed his hand again.

“You’ve got this,” he said. “You’re doing great. I’ll be right outside.”

Rob left the room and closed the door behind him, then situated himself in the corner of the hallway where he’d be out of the way but still able to see when the doctor left. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Adam, wishing he had more of an update to give, but he didn’t want to leave him hanging.

Adam answered on the first ring.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he said.

“Well, I don’t know a whole lot more than I did when I left. Looks like they’ve admitted Brian to the hospital, and the doctor is talking to Justin right now. I suspect something kidney related, based on what I could see.”

“Oh god. That’s not good.”

“Yeah. I’m hoping I can find out more from Justin in a little bit, but he was pretty freaked out when I got here, so I didn’t want to ask too many questions.”

“I can imagine. I just dropped the girls off with Charlene upstairs -- thankfully, she didn’t have any plans for today and she seemed like she was looking forward to spending some time with them. I told her she was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll make sure she knows how much we appreciate her. I just hope the girls aren’t too disappointed about Coney Island.”

“We’ll make it up to them. I’m getting ready to head your way now. Is there anything I can bring from here?”

“I don’t think so. I’m just hoping I can keep Justin calm. He seems better than he was.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s not by himself anymore.”

“Me too. Hopefully I'll know more by the time you get here. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

No sooner had Rob hung up the phone than the door to Brian’s hospital room opened up again and the doctor walked out. Rob took a breath and started back toward the room, not knowing what state he was about to find Justin in, but hoping he was at least still somewhat calm.

Justin was sitting in the chair under the window, his head in his hands.

“You okay?” Rob said, partially out of concern, and partially because he wanted to let Justin know he was there.

“She said he's lucky we came in today,” Justin said, his voice flat, like he'd already used up his entire emotional quotient for the day. “That if we'd waited any longer, he probably would have ended up with sepsis. And…” Justin let his voice trail off.

Rob knew Justin couldn't finish that sentence, and he didn't want him to. They got there in time, and that was all that mattered.

“Is it a kidney stone?” Rob asked.

Justin took his hands away from his face and shook his head. “An infection. A really bad one. I woke up around 4… Brian was really hot, and we were both wet, and there was a lot of blood.” Justin still wasn't looking at Rob. Instead, he was looking straight down at the floor as he told Rob the story. His voice sounded almost detached. “He was really out of it. I didn't know what to do, so I called an ambulance.”

“Wait, how long have you been here?”

“I got here sometime around 5:00. They left with Brian at 4:30. I had to get here, so I just changed my clothes and left.”

“Why didn't you call me earlier? I could have come and been with you then, too.” Rob hated the idea of Justin having been at the hospital by himself for almost two hours, especially given the state he’d been in when Rob arrived. Had he been like that the entire time? Rob was thankful Justin had at least had the presence of mind to get help quickly.

“I didn't want to call you that early.” Justin shrugged, still looking away.

“Well, you should have. I hope there's not a next time, but if there is…” Rob left the ‘please call’ unspoken. Justin nodded but didn't look up. “Have you eaten anything?” Rob asked. He didn’t figure Justin had, since he’d been up and dealing with this since 4 a.m.

Justin shook his head.

“Why don't we go downstairs and get some coffee and something to eat?” Rob said. “I think it'll make you feel better.” He also thought the momentary distraction might be a good thing.

“But what if he wakes up?”

“Remember what the nurse said -- he's probably not going to for a while yet. And when he does, he'll probably need something else that's going to knock him out again. Trust me, I've been there. It sucks and it's really painful. He would want you to eat. He’d want you to take care of yourself.”

Reluctantly, Justin went with Rob to the cafeteria, only on the condition that they would ask Nancy to call one of them immediately if anything changed with Brian. While Justin was asking her to do that, Rob sent Adam a quick text to let him know where they'd be.

It took Justin a long time to pick out something to eat, which was unusual for him. He normally had the appetite of a teenage boy. But right now, he didn't seem interested in food at all. Ultimately, he settled on an English muffin with egg and cheese, which he picked at as he sipped his coffee.

“I still feel like this is all my fault,” Justin said, as he pulled off a small piece of bread with his fingers but didn't eat it. “If I hadn't --”

“Okay, I'm stopping you right there.” Rob interrupted him. “Look at me.”

It took Justin several seconds to look up, but he eventually did.

“This is absolutely not your fault,” Rob said, looking Justin square in the eye to help prove how much he meant what he was saying. “You did nothing to cause this.”

“But I should have known what to look for. And I didn’t, because I can’t remember. Because of this fucking brain injury.”

“Justin, I don’t think you would have been able to pick up on this, even before. He hid it really, really well. I just saw him last night, and I know what to look for when there’s a problem, and I had no idea it was this bad. If I had, I would have said something. You have to believe me on that.”

“I feel like there’s so much I can’t remember, that isn’t coming back.” Justin looked down at his cup of coffee and played with the stir stick as he spoke. It reminded Rob of Brian, who always had to be fidgeting with something. “Some of it is, but not all of it. And I try to look things up when I can, but I know that everyone’s body is different, and every injury is different. So I’m never quite sure how much of it applies. But I don’t want to ask.”

“And he’s not going to tell you, I know.”

“I just need a point of reference, you know? I can’t know if he’s not doing something, if I didn’t know it was supposed to be happening in the first place.”

“I know, Justin. And trust me, Brian knows that too. Maybe he’s used that to his advantage here, as wrong as that seems to say. I’m not saying he wanted this to happen, but he also might have known that you weren’t going to call him out when he started ignoring his body.”

“But I tried,” Justin said, his frustration clear. “I really tried. It just wasn’t enough.” Right there, his tone shifted to disappointment, and Rob knew he was going to have a serious talk with Brian at some point in the near future, because he couldn’t keep doing this to Justin. Or himself.

“And that’s okay. You did great,” Rob tried to keep his tone upbeat, even though inside he was a little bit angry with Brian for putting all of this on Justin, albeit indirectly. “Brian isn’t your responsibility. He’s responsible for himself. But I understand wanting to know more. And, like I said, I know Brian isn’t going to tell you. So I will.”

Rob had gotten over that shyness a long time ago, and he no longer cared to hide anything he needed to do as a part of his self care, no matter how different it was from what able-bodied people did. He knew Brian’s personality was completely different though -- even though he was brash about a lot of things, there were others about which he was much more private, because he had an image to maintain. He always had, as far as Rob knew, and it sounded like it went back much farther than that. And Rob was sure that the things Justin wanted to know probably fell under the umbrella of things Brian didn’t like to talk about.

So Rob spent some time giving Justin what amounted to paraplegic anatomy 101 -- everything that he felt was probably relevant to the mess Brian had put himself in, and a few other things that he thought Brian might neglect, as much as he hated to think that way. There clearly was something going on with Brian that went much deeper than the physical effects he was currently suffering from, and until Rob found out what that was, he had to assume that there might be other things not happening as regularly as they should be, like skin checks and pressure relief and applying lotion to skin that doesn’t sweat.

Adam came into the cafeteria about midway through Rob’s explanation, giving him a peck on the cheek and a hug as he sat down in the chair next to him.

“He needs to stretch out his muscles and his joints, too,” Rob said. “Every day. It’s important. And I could see that being something he’d probably let drop.”

Justin nodded. “I’ve seen him do it a couple of times,” he said. “But I doubt he’s doing it every day. Definitely not recently. The times I’ve seen him do it, it’s been right before bed, but the last few weeks, he’s been coming to bed really late, because he’s always working.”

Adam took that opportunity to jump in. “I give Rob a full-body massage at least twice a week,” he said. “It’s therapy -- it’s good for his muscles and tendons -- and I just make it a lot more enjoyable.” Adam winked at Justin. Rob could see Adam’s hand creeping suggestively up his thigh as he talked about the therapy that more often than not turned into sex by the end of the night. But Adam wasn’t wrong -- it was beneficial, sure, but they also both really enjoyed the intimacy of it.

“I’m a pretty lucky guy,” Rob said, laying his hand over Adam’s under the table. “Brian is too. But this stuff can be really hard to talk about, even with someone you love. I can remember when Adam and I had only been dating for a few weeks, and I was starting to think, I really like this guy, but it was hard to let him in, because I didn’t want to fuck up a good thing. I had to wonder, is he still going to want to go the distance once he knows all of this? All of the things that are different for me.”

“But I'm not going anywhere,” Justin said. “Brian should know that.”

“I know, and I know Brian does too. But it's still hard. It’s a lot of shit. A lot of work. A lot to think about. You don't want to burden other people with it. And sometimes you just get to the end of your rope, and you don’t want to deal with it anymore either. I think that might be where he's at right now.”

“But he doesn’t have a choice,” Justin said, sounding desperate.

“No, he doesn’t,” Rob said. “That’s where you come in, with the gentle reminder. And I know that you’ll know exactly how to give it in a way that will make him do what he needs to do.”

Justin laughed a little. “Michael and I used to joke about there being a ‘Kinney Operating Manual.’ All of the instructions for getting Brian Kinney to do what you want him to do and what he needs to do without him knowing it.”

Rob laughed too. “Knowing Brian, that’s exactly how you’ll have to do it. But I know you can. And that you want to. You just needed the information. Now, you have it.”

Justin nodded. “Thanks. For telling me. I know it can’t be easy to talk about it with a stranger.”

“Since when are you a stranger? I’ve known you for a decade. We’re way past that.”

“You know what I meant. Those aren’t things we talk about.”

“I can hear your country club upbringing coming through right now.” Rob smiled. “And you’re welcome. Anytime. Seriously. If you don’t want to ask Brian something, you can call me.”

Justin sat back in his chair and laid a napkin over what remained of his half-eaten muffin, apparently declaring himself done with breakfast. Rob wished Justin would have eaten more, but he knew it was hard to have much of an appetite when someone you loved was seriously ill. Justin scrubbed his hands over his cheeks.

“God, I’d give anything to wash my face right now,” he said. “And I wish I would have brought my toothbrush.”

“Why don’t you go home and take a shower, get cleaned up, and then come back?” Rob suggested, knowing it was a long shot but hoping Justin might go for it. “Adam and I can stay with Brian.”

Justin shook his head. “No, I’m not leaving him,” he said vehemently. “I promised I wouldn’t. I’m spending the night.”

Even though Rob had been hoping he’d be able to get Justin to go home for a little while, to take a break and do what he needed to do, he understood Justin’s reluctance. He would have done the same, had it been Adam.

“Why don’t we go get what you need, then?” Rob said. “That way you can stay with Brian.”

That, Justin agreed to.

They sat at the table, making a list of everything that Justin and Brian might need for the next few days, since they still didn’t know how long Brian would be in the hospital. Then, Rob and Adam accompanied Justin back up to the room and got him settled -- as predicted, Brian was still sleeping -- before leaving for Brian and Justin’s apartment.

He and Adam sat together in the back seat of a taxi cab, having stowed his chair in the trunk since Adam could help. He’d learned a long time ago not to ask cabbies to do it if he could help it. Adam reached across the seat and interlaced his fingers through Rob’s -- Adam’s dark skin contrasting with his own. Rob looked up and met his husband’s dark brown eyes, smiling a little. He loved this man more than life, and he really was lucky. Adam hadn’t cared about any of the things that Rob had been afraid to tell him -- even that early in their relationship, they’d just loved each other, and nothing else mattered. Not disability, not skin color, not the differences in their upbringing, nothing. Underneath it all, they were just people. Two people who cared deeply for one another. And they still did.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Adam asked.

“Brian or Justin?”

“Well, both, I guess. But I meant Brian.”

“I hope so. And that goes for both of them. I have a feeling Brian’s going to have a hard time doing what needs to be done to recover from this. He’s too much of a workaholic and a control freak. Justin’s going to have his work cut out for him, for sure.”

They didn’t say much for the rest of the ride back to Chelsea, where the cab driver dropped them off at the front entrance to Brian and Justin’s fancy high-rise apartment building. The doorman had seen them enough that he recognized them and greeted them with a smile and a nod as they entered. Rob assumed he was none-the-wiser about what had taken place early that morning, and he wasn’t going to say anything. Once they got upstairs, Rob picked through his keys until he found the one to Brian and Justin’s apartment, then opened the door and pushed himself inside.

Brian and Justin’s apartment was large and spacious, but minimally decorated. The furniture was fancy but functional, the surfaces clear of clutter save for a couple of magazines and a book on the coffee table, and a few framed pictures on the end tables in the living room. The living room, kitchen, and dining area were essentially one large room, with an island in the middle -- low enough to be usable for himself and Brian -- providing just a small amount of division between the living area and the kitchen. The decor was almost entirely neutrals, with the only color in the room coming from the pillows on the sofa and, of course, Justin’s artwork on the walls.

Nothing looked amiss in the living room, even though it sounded like Justin had left in a hurry. Rob glanced at the list he’d made on his phone and started toward the bedroom so he could get some clothes for both Justin and Brian. Adam followed him into the room.

“Shit,” Adam breathed. Rob looked up at his husband, then followed his gaze to the bed sheets. Their normal, light grey color was marred by a large, red stain. “This reminds me of…”

“I know.” The kidney stone. Neither of them needed to actually say it, to know.

“I thought you were going to die. Hell, I thought you were dying right there beside me, in our bed, and I didn’t know what it was or what to do.”

Rob remembered it as being equally scary. He’d experienced minor episodes of autonomic dysreflexia before -- basically, the odd reaction his nervous system would have to uncomfortable or painful sensations in areas he couldn’t feel, when his blood pressure would go up and he’d start sweating for no reason or getting a terrible, pounding headache, until he found and relieved whatever the cause was. But that time, neither of them had been able to find the cause, and it wasn’t getting any better -- it was only getting worse. By the time Adam called 911, Rob’s vision had started fading in and out, and he’d also started to wish he would pass out, so that at least he wouldn’t have to feel the horrible pain and pressure in his head any longer. Then, his bladder had let go. What came out was tinged with red, and it seemed like it was never going to stop. But not even that had relieved the AD symptoms.

He still didn’t remember the ambulance ride to the hospital or most of the next day. And the following few weeks -- which included stents and surgery and a challenging recovery -- had been a test for their still-young marriage at the time. But they’d gotten through it.

Rob wrapped his arm around Adam’s waist. “Tell me what you're thinking about,” he said.

“That I know exactly how scared Justin must have been,” Adam said, still looking at the bed, almost as if he was a little bit shell-shocked by the memory.

“He did great, though,” Rob said. “Just like you did. Sometimes this shit just happens. It’s scary, but you have to deal with it. You don’t have a choice.” Rob paused for a moment and looked at the bed. “Let’s take care of this for them. So Justin won’t have to.”

Together, they stripped the bed of both the sheets and the mattress protector. Rob also found what he assumed to be Justin’s pajamas in the floor on the other side of the bed. They washed everything, then put the bed back together and left Justin’s pajamas folded neatly at the foot of the bed, so that whenever they returned home, everything would be ready for them. Hopefully that would be sooner rather than later.

Once they’d finished up at the apartment, Rob and Adam headed back to the hospital with the bag they’d packed containing everything they thought Brian or Justin might need -- clothes, toiletries (although they’d had no idea what to pack of Brian’s extensive collection and had ultimately tried to pick a good variety), phone chargers, the book from the coffee table that it looked like Justin was probably reading, and Adam grabbed Justin’s sketchbook and a couple of pencils, just in case. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

When they got back to the hospital room, Brian was awake -- sort of. He looked to be about half conscious, and it was easy to see in his eyes how much pain he was in. And the lack of a sarcastic greeting -- perhaps something along the lines of, “Oh, Justin called in the cavalry, did he?” -- instead replaced with a gravelly, weak, “Hi,” told Rob exactly how terrible Brian was feeling.

“Hey,” Rob said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a fucking truck ran over me.”

Rob didn’t get a chance to say anything more before Nancy, Brian’s nurse for the day, came in with a syringe that she injected into Brian’s IV line.

“Let’s see if that helps you some with the pain,” she said. “If it doesn’t, call me. None of this tough guy stuff, okay? Now, let’s get you turned onto your side. We don’t want to add pressure sores to the mix.”

She helped Brian roll over, propping him up with pillows and helping him position his legs and straightening out the blankets and the bedding and the IV tubing and the catheter. He was facing the door now, and it looked like just the effort of turning over had exhausted him.

“Let yourself rest, hon,” she said as she pulled the blanket up and smoothed it out again. “If you need anything, just call.”

With what amounted to permission given, Brian closed his eyes and seemed to settle further into the pillows that surrounded him, as Nancy left the room and dimmed the lights.

“Is there anything else you think you need?” Rob asked Justin, keeping his voice soft and low.

Justin shook his head and took the bag from Adam. “Thank you,” he said.

“It was nothing,” Rob said. “That’s what friends do. If you think you’re okay, we’re going to head back, so you and Brian can both get some rest. But if you think of anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to call me. I don’t care if it’s 2 a.m. I mean that.” He held his arms out to give Justin a hug, which the younger man accepted. It felt so different from the desperate one they’d shared earlier that morning. This one was softer. Warmer. More normal. “Promise me?” he asked as they let go, leaving his hands on Justin’s shoulders.

“I promise,” Justin said.

“Even if it’s 2 a.m.”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Okay, good.” Rob patted Justin’s knee and turned toward the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow to check in, if I don’t hear from you first. Take good care of him. You’re still doing great.”

Adam hugged Justin goodbye, then Rob gave Justin a reassuring smile as he and Adam went out the door.

The next morning, Rob sat in his office, sorting through his email and looking at his calendar for the day, debating whether or not he should call Justin for an update on Brian. He didn’t want to call too early, in case either or both of them were sleeping, because they both needed rest. Justin had his own health to consider too, and Rob hoped he would remain mindful of that and make sure he was getting enough sleep and enough to eat.

He’d just settled on waiting until after 10 a.m. to call, and maybe bringing over some food later, when his cell phone rang. It was Justin.

Shit, he thought. He hoped nothing had gone wrong overnight.

Apprehensively, he slid his thumb across the display to answer the call and put the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he said, trying not to sound too worried. “Everything okay?”

Justin didn’t respond, but Rob could hear Brian in the background saying, “If you don’t go, it’ll take you months to get back in. You’re going.”

“Okay, I get it,” Justin said, obviously to Brian, sounding impatient. “I’ll go. Just let me talk to Rob and see if he can come over.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” he heard Brian grumble.

What a difference eighteen hours could make, Rob thought to himself. It certainly seemed that Brian was feeling quite a bit better, and it was a relief to hear his friend’s normal, snarky banter with his husband.

“Okay, sorry Rob,” Justin said. “Are you still there?”

“Yep, I’m here. Sounds like someone is starting to get back to feeling like himself.” Rob chuckled.

“Yeah. His fever broke last night. He’s still in a lot of pain, but his doctor said this morning’s blood tests are looking a lot better. That the antibiotics are working.”

“Good, that’s good,” Rob said. A huge fucking relief was what it was, but he didn’t want to alarm Justin, so he kept his reaction low-key. This could have very easily been a grave situation, and he knew it. Brian was extremely lucky, and Rob hoped he would realize that and make some changes to keep from having to depend on that luck in the future. “So, what was all of that about needing a babysitter?”

“Oh, shit, yeah. I almost forgot why I called. Fucking brain injury.”

It made Rob cringe every time Justin said that, because he could feel the younger man’s frustration.

“I have a neurologist appointment today,” Justin said. “Only a check-in. I’m fine, and I told Brian I could probably skip it, but he’s insisting that I go.”

“And I think Brian’s right, you should go. It’s important. And he’s also right that if you cancel, you probably won’t be able to get another appointment for a while.”

Justin sighed on the other end of the line. “I know. But I don’t want to leave him here by himself.”

“Christ, I’m fine,” Rob heard Brian say. “I’ll probably be asleep anyhow.”

“I’ll come over,” Rob said, so Justin wouldn’t have to actually ask. “What time’s your appointment?”

“Eleven. I probably need to leave around 10:30.”

“I’ll be there,” Rob said, thankful that he didn’t have any meetings until late afternoon, and none of them were anything that couldn’t be pushed back to another day if needed.

Two hours later, he’d sent a nervous Justin on his way and was setting up his laptop in Brian’s hospital room so he could try to get some work done while Brian slept. He killed some time finishing up going through his email and sorting through a few documents concerning new products that were in development and would be ready for primetime soon.

Brian did look quite a bit better -- he had on pajamas instead of the hospital gown, and even in his sleep, Rob could tell he was more comfortable. But Rob was sure he was probably still really tired, from a combination of being so sick and having been so exhausted in the first place. He was just about to send Adam a text with what little update he had, when he heard Brian's voice.

“I told him I didn’t need a fucking babysitter,” Brian grunted as he shifted a little in the bed. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, we can all see how fine you are,” Rob said, closing his laptop and setting it aside. “You really fucked yourself up this time, huh?”

Brian breathed out and let his head fall back to the pillow, then closed his eyes. “Lying in bed with a fever so high you’re either hot or cold and there’s no in between, with a tube coming out of your dick that you’re pissing into involuntarily, and a backache that won’t quit,” he said. “What’s not to love? Thank god the fever’s gone now, but the rest? Still there.”

“Anyhow, I'm not here because I thought you needed a babysitter. I’m here because I was thinking you and I could talk.”

“God, here it comes.”

“I’m not going to lecture you. I just want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me what’s going on. All of it. And don’t just tell me you’re fine. We both know you’re not.”

Brian didn't open his eyes, and didn’t speak. His only acknowledgment of what Rob had said came in the form of a loud exhale.

“Something happened when you were in Pittsburgh. Aside from the obvious, I mean. I know you’ve been dealing with the nightmares and the flashbacks. But it’s not just that, either. It’s something else. You’re not yourself.”

“Who the hell else would I be?” Brian said sarcastically.

Rob knew Brian well enough to know that snark meant he was on the right track -- it was a defense mechanism. One that Brian used often. Rob didn’t take the bait.

“Like I said the other night, you’re burying yourself in work. You’re not taking care of yourself. You’ll barely even talk to me these last few weeks. What’s going on? You know you can talk to me about anything -- you always have. So why won’t you talk to me this time?”

Brian still didn’t say anything.

“You know Justin thinks this is all his fault, right? Because he didn’t know enough to be able to spot the signs that something was wrong. But he shouldn’t have had to. Because none of this should have happened. But it did. Why? Why did you ignore the signs you must have had? You had to feel something. You’re the only one who lives in your body.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Brian, stop. Answer the question.”

“Because I didn’t think it was anything,” Brian huffed. “I knew I was working too much. I just thought it was back pain from that. That I was tired from that. I thought I just needed some sleep, and I had a few days coming up where I’d be able to get it. So I thought I’d be fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“No need to worry Justin, right?”

“Leave him out of it.”

“That’s not possible -- he’s your partner. Your husband. He’s automatically a part of it. He cares about you, and he wants to help you.”

“He shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Again, I repeat, he’s your partner. Do you worry about him? I won’t bother waiting for the answer, because we both know the answer is yes. It’s how you got into this mess. Because you’re too worried about him to focus any attention on yourself. Am I at least half right with that?”

Brian’s silence told Rob he was right.

“And you ended up making him really worried about you. As in, full-on anxiety attack worried. There’s give and take with this on both sides, Brian. You’ll worry about each other, sure, but you can’t focus all of your energy on that. And he wouldn’t expect you to. Just like you wouldn’t expect that from him. You ended up hurting him while you were trying to protect him.”

Brian looked away and pulled his lips into his mouth -- another mannerism of Brian’s that told Rob he was hitting the nail squarely on the head.

“Brian, please. Tell me what’s really going on, so I can help. I want to help.”

Brian blinked a few times, still looking away, then closed his eyes. After several seconds and a few shaky breaths that Rob wasn’t sure were from physical pain or from emotion, Brian spoke.

“Everything fell apart when Justin got hurt,” Brian said quietly. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t make eye contact with Rob. “I felt like I had a good handle on it, you know? Life. We got married, we were happy, business was booming, he was doing his art, you and I were doing our thing in D.C., life was good. As good as it could be. And then it just...wasn’t.”

Brian stopped and took another shaky breath. Rob didn’t say anything.

“He doesn’t remember so much of our life together,” Brian said. “He doesn’t remember our marriage. I had to tell him we’d been married almost ten years.” Brian’s voice was breaking now. “That fucking hurt. It hurt. I know it’s not his fault, but it hurt. And the whole thing, it brought back all of the shit that I thought I’d finally gotten past.”

“Prom?”

Brian nodded. “I thought all of that had finally faded into the background, but then, there it was again. In my fucking dreams. Every goddamn night.”

“It only faded because you ran from it,” Rob said. “You have to stop running from the past. If you’d had as good of a handle on everything as you said, you wouldn’t be having nightmares about the prom. You and Justin would have talked it out a long time ago. But you never would talk about it. You still won’t. Don’t think I don’t know that. I know it’s a painful memory for you -- for both of you -- but now it’s taking over your life. And you just keep running. You’re hiding behind work and taking care of Justin, but at the end of the day, you’re running. You both need to get it out. Let it go. So you can move forward.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to lecture me.”

“Well, you need to hear this. I know that letting it go might be hard to do, because you like control,” he said. “But you’re letting this control you. You can’t control everything. It’s not possible. You have to focus on what you can control. And you can control how you deal with things. What you do from this point forward.”

“I’m just so fucking tired of trying to hold it all together,” Brian said softly, sounding almost tearful now. Rob wondered if it was the drugs that were making Brian more open, but whatever it was, he was thankful that Brian was finally talking to him.

“I get that, Brian. I do. Anybody would be. But until you work through this stuff together, you’re both just going to keep hurting each other while you’re trying to protect each other. That’s no way to live. You’re both suffering. You’re strong people. Look at everything you’ve gotten through together already. There’s been loss -- and that’s life, it happens -- but you haven’t lost each other. You’re both still here. You’re still fighting. Why not fight just as hard to try to get past what’s hurting you both? By dealing with it this time, instead of pushing it aside and hoping it’ll go away. Talk to each other. Be partners. Don’t feel like you have to do it all alone.”

“I know,” Brian said. “I get it. I know what I have to do. It’s just… hard.” Brian paused as his eyes drifted shut again. “God, I’m so fucking tired.”

“You need to rest,” Rob said. “It’s okay. Go to sleep. We can talk more later.”

“‘kay…” Brian let his voice trail off as he pushed himself over onto his right side. He let his eyes close, and it didn’t take long before his breathing evened out and he was sound asleep.

As Rob sat there, watching Brian sleep, he hoped that his friend would take his advice to heart. That he would realize how lucky he was. That he would at least make an attempt at letting go of what was eating him from the inside out, so he could focus on getting his health back, and hopefully feel like everything was coming back together again.

Brian was still asleep when Justin returned from his appointment, and Rob went back to work for a few more hours before going home to his own little family -- Adam, Esmeralda, and Sophia. They ate dinner together, just as they did every night, talking about school and work and what was going on in their lives, before going about their normal evening routine -- a little bit of TV, then baths and bed for the girls, and a little more TV for himself and Adam, before they headed to bed themselves.

Some people might say normal was boring. But to Rob, it was nice. Comforting and grounding and just… content. Happy.

He wanted that for Brian and Justin, too. He knew they’d make it back there eventually. And he knew they’d support each other through the process, just like they always had.

By the time Rob made it out of the shower and to bed, Adam had turned out almost all of the lights and was sitting up in bed, a bottle of lotion lying on the covers by his leg.

“Mmm…” Rob said as he slid his body over from his chair to the bed and pulled his legs up. “I was hoping for that massage tonight, since you brought it up earlier.”

Adam nipped at Rob’s ear and began planting the tiniest, lightest kisses down the side of Rob’s neck as he started to rub Rob’s shoulders and work his way down his back.

“Of course,” Adam said, between kisses. “I have to show you how much I love you somehow.”

“You show me every day.”

There wasn’t a day that went by that Rob wasn’t grateful that he and Adam had found each other, and that Adam had taken the chance on him and stayed, even after he knew that their lives would be unconventional and things wouldn’t always be easy. But whose life was, really?

And as they laid in each other’s arms later that night, both on the verge of sleep, Rob whispered, “I’m glad you’re my partner. I can’t imagine going through this life with anyone else.”

Adam turned and kissed him softly.

“I wouldn’t want anybody but you.”