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Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to Cowlip's Queer As Folk. This story does not reflect their creative vision or any creative vision other than my own. No copyright infringement intended.

“I mean, I don’t blame him. He’s having the time of his life, working in the movies. He’s fucking movie stars.”

 

He can feel Michael’s eyes on him. Brian feels like he holds his nonchalant expression pretty well though. He always has been able to pretend that he doesn’t give a shit.

 

“That doesn’t mean he’s never coming home.”

 

Sometimes he wishes he could be like Michael, filled with optimism and completely content in the life he has.

 

No need to dwell on it. It’ll never happen. Michael’s words mean nothing to him. So he scoffs in his best friend’s face.

 

“Who the hell would come back to Pittsburgh after L.A.? If it was me, I’d never come back.”

 

“Well, he’s not you.”

 

Brian knows that. But Brian also knows that the moment he took Justin in, he started to form him in his image. And if any of that stuck, then Justin knows how much promise he has. He has to know that he can do better than Pittsburgh. And he probably knows that he can do better than Brian.

 

He brushes Michael off because what he’s saying is irrelevant. It’s bullshit. It’s sort of inconsiderate of Mikey. If Brian were more naïve, he might be filled with some false sense of hope by those few words.

 

“Well, it’s time he got on with his life. And it’s time I got on with mine.”

 

Before Michael can tell him any words that he wants to hear but doesn’t need to, he walks away and leaves him behind.

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Brian is sort of down for the rest of the day. He doesn’t feel like he has done anything to show that. He doesn’t scream at any interns. He doesn’t snap at Cynthia. He doesn’t take a quick break by walking down to the baths. He just spends a long time in his office working on corrections for the art department and looking over paperwork. Ted comes in a couple of times to give him something to sign or ask him a question. Maybe it’s Brian’s quiet monotone that gives him away but Ted catches onto how he’s feeling.

 

“Brian, is there anything wrong? You seem sort of down.”

 

“The only thing wrong is your face, Ted.”

 

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that to a gay man hitting his mid-life crisis but it gets a glare out of his CFO so that's fun.

 

“Well, you can talk to me if you need to. I won’t say anything.”

 

True. Brian had told Ted about his cancer and he hadn’t breathed a word.

 

“I’ll let you know. I don’t see it happening, but thanks for the offer.”

 

Ted nods and leaves him alone after that. He needs to get used to the feeling of being alone. He should have gotten used to it in the last couple of months.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two weeks pass. Justin calls him twice in the first week and not even once in the second. Brian called him a few days ago but it went to voicemail. He stopped hoping for a call back yesterday. He feels like the only relationship he’s ever had is about to come to an end and that eats at him from the inside. And isn’t that fucking ironic, since he never wanted a relationship in the first place. Yet here he is, worrying about what is going to happen, dreading and hoping that Justin will call. At least when they broke up two years ago, there was no question about it. There was no other hidden meaning of Justin walking away with Ian. Brian made sure Justin made that decision. He needed to experience romance or whatever the fuck.

 

Of course Brian only realized how stupid he really was after he planned his own romantic gesture. Why the fuck did he think surprising Justin in L.A. would have been a good idea? Sure, Justin had asked when he was coming out to see him but the kid was having the time of his life. Justin would have felt obligated to take him places and fuck around with him for a couple of weeks. After trying to keep Brian happy, he would have secretly felt intense relief when Brian got back on the plane. That’s how Brian always felt when he had guests. Sure, it was nice to occasionally see a buddy from college come in but it was tiring going out of your way to make sure someone had a good time. He was always glad to send them home later because they interfered with his life. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t seen most of the friends he made in college for years. Justin was having a blast and formed a new life somewhere else. Brian wasn’t a part of that life so he needed to respect that. He just wishes that Justin would officially cut him loose so they could move on. Brian could make that move himself but who the fuck is he kidding? He didn’t want to move on. It would kill him to push Justin away like that again, even if it saved a little of his pride by not being the one to be broken up with. He just wishes Justin would be truthful and let him know that he wants L.A. more than he wants him.

 

He needs to get his mind onto other things and stay in his routine. He’s not sequestered away, bawling his eyes out while he clutches onto Justin’s pillow but he’s quiet, lonely, and, if he’s honest with himself, moping. So whatever. It’s Sunday and Debbie should be getting dinner on the table soon. He can ignore his diet and have a plate of pasta, maybe eat a cannoli if Debbie made any. He could do this. He was okay before Justin. He could possibly be okay after.

 

When he gets there, they all act like everything is normal. Michael asks him if he’s heard from Justin one too many times and looks a little too concerned but Brian brushes him off in a way he hopes doesn’t peak the interests of the rest of their friends. It certainly wouldn’t with Lindsay and Melanie. God, they’re so fucking uncomfortable around each other. Jesus, he hopes he and Justin don’t end up that stiff and awkward with each other if he ever comes back to visit.

 

“You okay, honey?”

 

Brian looks up to see Debbie. He realizes that he was lost in his thoughts for the majority of dinner but didn’t realize that everyone was mostly finished with their meals already and talking up a storm. He pulls out every bit of nonchalance he can muster which isn’t much because he only manages to shrug and smirk. She runs a hand through his hair with a concerned frown on her face. The whole moment feels like something he imagined his own mother doing when he was a kid. He gave up on that quickly but it had taken a few years before he realized that Joan would have to love him in order to even consider giving him physical affection.

 

He did okay though. Debbie showed it to him sometimes. Vic had too. Michael and Lindsay did. His sonny boy gave him hugs and kisses. But no one managed to beat Justin in that department.

 

Oh well.

 

He joins in on the conversation after that and ignores the confused concern from Debbie, Michael, and Ted. He acts himself and he and Ted talk about the new ad campaign Kinnetik is working on. As Ben and Emmett clean up the kitchen, he holds JR and plays with his son. They help him feel better and a little more normal. And here he thought it would be tricking , smoking, or drinking that might help him. Who would have thought it would be spending time with the kids?

 

“Daddy, I’m gonna show you my new race car.”

 

“I already saw it, Gus. I got it for you, remember?”

 

“I’ll still show it to you.”

 

Gus runs to the other side of the room to get the remote controlled car. He watches Gus’s glee over making the car nudge Michael’s ankles with fondness. He’s so pulled into the sight that he almost doesn’t realize his phone is ringing.

 

He pulls out his cell and doesn’t recognize the number but he answers regardless.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello, my name is Dr. Kirk Bowers. I’m trying to reach a Brian Kinney?”

 

“Speaking,” he answers the man, frowning.

 

“I am calling in regards to a Justin Taylor. According to his phone and the card in his wallet, you are his I.C.E.”

 

Fuck. Please God, no.

 

He feels his palms sweating as he speaks around the lump his throat to answer.

 

“What’s wrong with Justin? Tell me, please.”

 

Brian can distantly hear the room quiet down around him but he can’t bring himself to care that they are listening in.

 

“He was brought into Cedars-Sinai a little over an hour ago. We have him stabilized but we had to give him strong sedatives in order to control the seizures, along with putting him on Diazepam. He was found seizing and then became unresponsive at a party in West Hollywood. He tested positive for cocaine so, unless he has any previous and unrelated history when it comes to seizures, an overdose looks like it could be the cause. He has a list of allergies in his wallet as well so it’s possible that the strain he took could irritate someone with so many vulnerabilities.”

 

Brian’s head is spinning and he’s getting up but he’s not sure where he’s walking.

 

“He was- why would he- he’s not a drug user- it’s not even 6 pm over there!”

 

He has no idea what he’s saying at this point but he’s so fucking scared and has no idea what to do.

 

“It’s Hollywood, Mr. Kinney. The parties start earlier and end even later. He’s a very lucky boy. I don’t think he sustained any brain damage but since he had multiple seizures and a close call with a severe drop in his heart rate when he was first brought in I want to keep a close eye on him and slowly ease him off the medication over the course of a few days. Besides his allergies, does he have any other health concerns that I need to know about?”

 

“He was attacked three years ago at his prom. Another student hit him in the head with a baseball bat. He was treated at Allegheny General in Pittsburgh. Mentally, he was completely unaffected but he has problems with his right hand sometimes due to the injury. But if that could have possibly helped trigger the seizures-”

 

“We’ll do a CAT Scan and an MRI. I will get a hold of the hospital so they can fax his records and previous scans over. Going by your area code, I’m guessing you are in Pittsburgh but we can call you if his condition changes and Justin should be able to call you in the afternoon once we ease him off the sedatives.”

 

“Fuck that. I’m getting the first plane out. Just…if he wakes up before I get there, tell him I’ll be there soon.”

 

Brian feels his voice crack on the last word but the good doctor agrees and they end the call.

 

As soon as he presses the end call button, the questions from his well-meaning friends start pouring in.

 

“Brian, what’s going on?”

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“Did something happen to Sunshine? Should I call Jennifer?”

 

“Stop it! I can’t handle any questions right now!”

 

His friends fall silent at his panicked demand and his son looks up at him with his big worried eyes. Brian takes a few calming breaths and speaks.

 

“Don’t call Jennifer. She’ll kill me if she finds out I told you not to but I don’t think Justin would want her to know yet. He’s stabilized and he’s not in danger. I will call her if that changes. I need to find out when the next flight to LA leaves.”

 

Brian finds the number to Pittsburgh International in his contact list. Thank god he travels for business and has it on hand. He wouldn’t have the patience to look it up in Debbie’s phone book right now. It would be ideal if she had a computer. As soon as he gets back, he’s getting her one because going on hold to wait to talk to customer service feels like one of the longest waits in his life.

 

“Pittsburgh International Airport! How may I help you this evening?”

 

“I need to be on the next non-stop flight to Los Angeles. I don’t care how much it costs or where I am sitting.”

 

“One moment.”

 

He waits as the woman finds the information he’s searching for and it only takes a minute or two for the results.

 

“There’s a flight leaving on Tuesday at 4:30 pm. Four seats left - three in coach and one in first class.”

 

“It’s fucking Sunday! Are you sure there aren’t any flights leaving in the next few hours or in the morning?”

 

“There are not, sir. Non-stop flights to L.A. only leave from our airport four times weekly. So the last flight we had left a few hours ago and the next flights will be Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday and next week will be Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. Every other day. Now, you can connect to a different airport and fly to L.A. from there. There’s a flight to Chicago tomorrow morning at 10 am and you should get there at 11:30. If you take that, you can transfer there after a three hour layover in Chicago and arrive in L.A. around 4:30 pm, their time.. Or you can fly to Charlotte at noon and connect after a four hour layover. That flight would arrive on the West coast around 7 pm."

 

“I need to be there now. Is there anything else I can do?”

 

“Those look like the best bets to me. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

 

Brian books the flight through Chicago just in case and gets off the phone. After that, he zeros in on Ted.

 

“I need you to book a private jet to leave from Pittsburgh International within the next three hours. Say it’s for business. I don’t give a shit.”

 

“Brian, you have to give most of those companies at least a 12 hour notice-”

 

“I’ll pay them thousands of dollars more than their asking price.”

 

“It’s at least a few thousand dollars an hour and Pittsburgh to L.A. is a five hour flight!”

 

“I. Don’t. Care.”

 

“I thought you said he was stable.”

 

“He is. That’s irrelevant.”

 

“Brian-”

 

“Why the fuck are you wasting my time by arguing with me? Just do me a favor and get on it! I would do it for you!”

 

Ted sighs, “I’ll run back to the office to get the names and contact information of the charter companies. I’ll try to get them to bend the rules, but no promises.”

 

“Just go. Call me as soon as you have something confirmed. I have to go pack.”

 

Ted nods, says goodbye to everyone, and heads out the door. Brian grabs his coat to leave.

 

“Brian, I’m going to call Jennifer. I’m a mother and I know she needs to know. Tell us what happened to Sunshine so I can fill her in. I would want to know if my son-” Debbie starts to say but he interrupts her.

 

“There’s no use in worrying her when he’s across the country. It's getting late and she has Molly to take care of. If his condition starts to go down, I’ll let her know. Don’t say anything yet. If he wants to tell her when he’s awake, then that’s his business. The same goes if he wants to tell you. I'm his I.C.E. and P.O.A. so you need to respect that. I know you care but I’m not going to explain everything right now. So stop sticking your nose into everything.”

 

“Brian!” Michael scolds.

 

Brian can’t bring himself to care about insulting Debbie. He knows she means well and is probably right by wanting to tell Jennifer now but his mind is all over the place. He makes his way to the door. He is stopped by a small hand grabbing his.

 

“Bye bye, Daddy. See you soon, right?”

 

Brian bends down to squat in front of his son.

 

“Yeah, Sonny Boy. I’ll see you real soon. Give me a hug.”

 

Gus throws his arms around his neck and gives him a kiss on his cheek. Brian stands up but bends down to plant a kiss on the boy’s head. Without another glance to the rest of his makeshift family, he leaves the house and heads back to the loft.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He barely looks at what he’s throwing in his suitcase and carry-on bag. He had wanted to surprise Justin in L.A. before he started to doubt if Justin even wanted him there. The majority of his itinerary had been filled with sex, mostly alone in the hotel suite that he booked. But there had been other things on his list. He wanted to go to the beach with Justin. He wanted to meet his coworkers. He wanted to take him out to some clubs there and go out to eat at nice restaurants. Maybe even do a couple of tourist traps just to say that they did. Most of the things he had wanted to do with his boyfriend would have sent the Brian of five years ago screaming for the hills. Hell, having a boyfriend would scare him off. However, when Brian had researched, planned, and bought his tickets, he had been so fucking excited to do all of those things with him. But this particular spur of the moment trip was a surprise to him and not the good kind.

 

His phone rings and he dashes over to pick it up from his nightstand.

 

“Ted? You better have good news.”

 

Ted sighs.

 

“If you could call it that. It took a while to persuade them and the airport but I managed to convince them that it was an absolute emergency. I didn’t get your flight to leave within three hours. They need to prep and inspect the jet before they send it off and the airport has to make sure the runway is clear. But your flight leaves at 3 am and you should get there by 8.”

 

“That...that’s great. Have I ever mentioned how grateful I am that I hired you, Theodore?”

 

“No, not really.”

 

“Well, I’ll do it more often.”

 

“Even though there’s going to be a $15,000 charge on your Chase card, plus the $4,000 extra they are charging you for the short notice?”

 

“That doesn’t matter. You said I should invest my money in something.”

 

“Invest, Brian. Not spend on a private jet rental because you don’t want to face a layover.”

 

Brian gets quiet and clears his throat.

 

“He’s important to me, Ted. You know that. I won’t wait for this. Not when he’s in the hospital. I can’t do that to him. He needs me and I need him.”

 

He’s pretty sure Ted would be widening his eyes at this point. Brian’s a bit shocked he said that out loud too.

 

“I understand. I’m glad you have the resources to do this, even though you are going to have to be a bit more frugal for a while. You’re a good man. Don’t let anyone tell you differently, even me.”

 

“...If you are done with the heart to heart, I need to finish packing.”

 

“Hey, I didn’t start it. Have a good flight, Brian. Call and let us know how Justin is doing. We love him too.”

 

“I will. Later.”

 

Brian hangs up and looks down at his suitcase. He thinks he has everything he needs. He even has a spare change of clothes for Justin that he left behind, just in case he needs something after he’s out of the hospital. All he has to do now is wait.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The jet arrives on time and he gets on. There’s only eight passenger seats so it’s pretty small. It’s kind of a strange experience. In hindsight, it might have been the right thing to do to let Jennifer know what was going on so she could come. There was just enough room and he could honestly use the company, even if it was from his pseudo mother-in-law. She would probably yell at him later if Justin told her.

 

Not having anyone to talk to forced him to think about Justin and what was going on. Despite Brian’s influence over him, Justin had never been one for drugs. He smoked pot on a regular basis and they did E together from time to time. But Justin wouldn’t do cocaine unless he was really upset about something or was feeling desperate. Justin had only done it a few times before. The first time he tried it was when Justin was having trouble at school with his hand. He remembers his boy practically hopping to him on the dance floor, eyes bloodshot and not quite focused. He knows it happened again right before he showed him the new computer. Then there was the fucking Sap. Justin had been such a fucking idiot, snorting it off of that sleaze’s hand. It probably happened a few times due to that creepy asshole. But Justin had told him that he didn’t like the way he felt afterwards and he never did it after that. So why the fuck would he do it when everything was going right for him?

 

He wanted to slap the little fucker across the head. He wanted to hug him and never let him go. He needed the rest of these hours to pass quickly so he could be there when he woke up. Even if Justin didn’t wake up until the afternoon like the doctor said, he had to be there. He needed to watch Justin. It would make him feel better and he had to be there when Justin woke up. Justin took care of him when during his cancer treatment so he needed to take care of Justin. It had to be different this time around. He waited outside of Justin’s room for three days when he was bashed and as soon as he got word that he was okay, he checked on him only while he was sleeping. Well, not this time. This time he was going to be there and Justin was going to know about it.

 

He gets off the jet at 8 am and catches a cab straight to Cedars-Sinai Hospital. He walks at a quick pace towards the nurses’ station and gets the information he needs, then heads to Justin’s room. He sees him there, unconscious, still, and almost peaceful. He somehow looks as though he is tanner and paler than he last saw him. He doesn’t know how that even works but it isn’t important. What’s important is that his Sunshine has different IVs in his arm and a nasal oxygen mask and he might be hurting or suffering in some way. He can’t imagine Justin shaking and jerking on the floor. It kills him to imagine it.

 

Driven by a sudden need to be close to his partner, Brian grabs one of the chairs in the room and pulls it close to Justin’s bed. He grabs onto his hand and waits for a nurse or a doctor to come in.

 

“You stupid shit,” Brian stays under his breath as he strokes Justin’s hand.

 

Justin doesn’t answer.

 

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on as soon as you wake up. I don’t care how tired you are or how confused you are. You are fucking talking to me. I know, how hypocritical of me to say that, right? ‘But Brian, you never talk about your problems!’ Well, you’re not me, fucker. So you are going to tell me why the fuck you would take drugs from people you probably barely know and why you would snort up that white powder when you told me you hated it-”

 

“Just coming in to check him over!” the nurse chirps as she walks in.

 

Brian watches her as she checks his blood pressure, his pupils, and his heart rate. She injects a needle into one of his IVs and checks something off his chart.

 

“What was that?”

 

“His Diazepam.”

 

“Has he had anymore seizures? What’s going on with him?”

 

“Sir, I just started my shift. His doctor will be here in ten minutes so it’s best if you ask him about his condition.”

 

Brian watches her treat Justin and leave and within a few minutes a man in his mid-fifties comes into the room.

 

“You must be Brian Kinney.”

 

“I am. Has there been any change in his condition?”

 

“Not particularly. He had another seizure a few hours ago but it was a petit mal and not a grand mal like the two he had yesterday. It’s not a good sign he had another one but it’s better that he had a less severe one. Hopefully that indicates that the medicine is working and he’s getting his body back under control. We are going to let the sedatives that we gave him yesterday wear off so he should be waking up this afternoon. If the seizures start up again after he awakes, we’ll up his dosage of Diazepam again and give him something to mildly sedate him rather than put him under. Hopefully that won’t be the case.”

 

“Did you do the CAT Scan and the MRI?”

 

“Yes. It looks as though no head trauma has occurred so everything is fine on that front. The only thing that show up in them are signs of a previous injury and signs of the seizures he had. We just need to wait until he wakes up to see how he’s doing. Even then it will be hard to properly judge him. Many patients who have grand mal seizures wake up very disoriented. Sometimes they won’t talk properly or recognize the people around them. Sometimes they don’t listen and act like silly toddlers. The drugs will make his behavior more concerning. This doesn’t last more than a day or so but it does make it take longer to properly assess if any damage has been done. His scans look fine though so I think that any odd behavior, no matter how strong it is, will wear off once the effect of the seizures go away and the drugs are out of his system.”

 

Brian nods and looks down and that seems to make the doctor take pity.

 

“But, like I told you on the phone, he’s a lucky kid. I have seen people come in with much higher levels of drugs in their system and walk out the very next day so I don’t see why he won’t be able to fully recover from this. I honestly think that whatever he took had something in it he was allergic to and, adding that to a dosage that was a little too high, he had a strong reaction. I don’t think that this will cause him to have seizures in the future, although he may be more prone to them but there’s no way in telling. However, we won’t know anything with absolute certainty until he’s up and in his right mind. If he wakes up or you think he may be having another seizure, press this button and someone will come in as soon as possible.”

 

“Alright. Thank you.”

 

Dr. Bowers leaves and Brian sits there and waits.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

At 3 pm, Justin finally speaks.

 

“Ughmuhnnnugh,” Justin says eloquently as Brian sits back up in his seat to watch him slowly awake.

 

“Justin? Sunshine, I’m right here. Feel me holding your hand? Open your eyes.”

 

Justin’s eyes flutter and he starts to look around the room.

 

“Justin, look at me.”

 

Justin looks around more and finally glances at him for a few seconds. No recognition there at all. Shit.

 

“I’m going to get the nurse in here, alright?”

 

Justin crosses his eyes to stare down at his nose in response.

 

He presses the call button, then holds Justin’s hand with both of his and massages it. Justin glances down at the movement and starts flicking Brian’s hand with his fingers.

 

“Mr. Taylor! I see you’re awake!”

 

Justin doesn’t react to the exclamation. He just holds onto Brian’s hand and bounces it on the bed. Repeatedly.

 

“Mr. Taylor, how are you feeling?”

 

“Justin,” Brian prompts him, “she asked you a question.”

 

“Mmmmm…”

 

“Are you tired?”

 

“No.”

 

“Does any part of your body hurt?”

 

“No.”

 

“Is your name Justin Taylor?”

 

“Nooo.”

 

Brian looks at her sharply to see how concerned she looks but it looks as though she isn’t that surprised. She must see the fear he’s feeling because she quickly consoles him.

 

“This is relatively common. A few people wake up with no problems but the majority are quite disoriented after a grand mal seizure. He had two and had a petit mal on top of that. He won’t even remember most of yesterday, most likely. Top that off with the sedative and the Diazepam, he is going to be very loopy. He’ll probably be tired for a while though the side effects are quite diverse with that drug. He just might become hyperactive and agitated later and go back and forth between that and exhaustion. He may hallucinate. If he gets too worked up we’ll give him something to calm him down or change medications. Hopefully the side effects he displays don’t affect his mood or comfort negatively. Hopefully he doesn’t need to be on seizure medication long at all.”

 

After she finishes talking to Brian, she turns to Justin.

 

“Justin, Dr. Bowers is going to come in soon and check on you. Try your best to answer his questions, alright?”

 

Justin responds by taking his nasal mask off and trying to throw it.

 

“Keep that on, Mr. Taylor.”

 

Justin doesn’t listen so Brian steps in.

 

“Sunshine, come on.”

 

Brian stands up and gets the cords back around his ears and the tubes back in his nose. Justin reaches up to take it off and Brian sticks his hand out to lower Justin’s hand with a, “Don’t you dare.” That must amuse Justin because he tries again three more times.

 

“Dr. Bowers will be in soon to examine him. Just try to keep him calm and comfortable.”

 

The nurse leaves. Brian sits back down and keeps his eyes on Justin.

 

“Why the fuck did you do this?”

 

Justin looks at him like he has no idea what he is talking about.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

Justin becomes wary and turns his back to him to go back to sleep.

 

“Justin,” he prompts as he puts a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Don’t touch!” Justin yells. Finally. A fucking reaction.

 

“Why can’t I touch you?”

 

“I have a boyfriend,” Justin slurs out, then runs a finger down the middle of Brian’s face, “Sooooo much hotter!

 

Well, fuck. That’s a stab to his heart.

 

“Who is he?” he chokes out.

 

“Brian Antonio Kinney. Age 337. Scorpio. Ad man. Loverrr.”

 

“Only two and a half of those things are true.”

 

“Oh. Hey, Brian.”

 

Before he can respond, Dr. Bowers comes into the room.

 

“Good to see you up and about, Mr. Taylor. How are you feeling?”

 

“Tired. Wanna draw. Hey...you,” he says to Brian as he points at him, “Crayon.”

 

“Justin, I need you to try to focus. I know it’s hard right now but try to settle down.”

 

Justin squints his eyes and gapes at Dr. Bowers, as though that expression will get the man to believe he is paying attention.

 

“I’m going to check your pupils and look at your vitals.”

 

The doctor shines a light into Justin’s eyes and Justin tries to squirm away, laughing.

 

“Stop it! Don’t like that!”

 

Bowers checks his blood pressure, his breathing, and his heart rate. He jots down a few notes and looks over at Brian. He asks Justin to squeeze his hands, smile, and wiggle his toes to check his movements.

 

“Everything looks and sounds good.”

 

“Are you serious? He asked for a fucking crayon. This isn’t him. Fix it.”

 

“It’s the aftermath of the seizure mixed in with the side effects of a couple medications. I’m honestly surprised that he’s showing this much energy this soon. He should still be really lethargic so this is a good thing. But he might be bouncing off the walls later so we could give him something to calm him down if it gets to that point. He should start to become more aware of himself later in the day and be lucid tomorrow.”

 

Bowers turns back to Justin.

 

“I’m going to ask you a couple of questions. I want you to try to answer them for me, alright?”

 

“Okayyyyyyy,”

 

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Bowers says as he’s holding up four fingers.

 

“Four.”

 

“Great. Who is the president of the United States?”

 

“Dunno, a dumb asshole.”

 

“Good,” Brian chimes in and Justin preens under the praise.

 

“Can you remember that ‘dumb asshole’s’ name?”

 

“Georgie George. The pickle people prefer!”

 

Justin laughs at his own joke, mumbles something, curls up, and tries to go to sleep.

 

“George Schickel is dead, Sunshine. Try again.”

 

Justin opens his heavy eyelids and sighs, “George Dubya Bush.”

 

“Good. What’s your name?”

 

“Justin. Leave me alone. Don’t keep me awake!”

 

“Justin, just hold on.”

 

“Leave me alone!”

 

“It’s alright, Mr. Taylor. I’ll come back when you are feeling better,” Bowers says as he pats Justin on the shoulder, then looks to Brian.

 

“How he’s acting is just a result of the side effects manifesting themselves. Someone will quiz him in a bit after he settles down and he’s feeling a bit more himself. I am mainly concerned about making sure he doesn’t have another seizure and getting the cocaine out of his system. I didn’t see him through the night but from the notes, I can see that he had a bit of an easier time besides the petit mal. If he can manage, let him rest. He has to be exhausted and probably has a killer headache. Don’t worry about it too much. If you need to leave-”

 

“I’m staying. He needs someone here to keep an eye on him.”

 

“Alright. Right now all we’re going to do is give him some R&R and keep a close eye on him. Page the nurse if he needs something or if you notice any concerning behavior.”

 

Brian sits back down next to Justin, who is half asleep again. He runs his fingers through his hair and lets the kid rest. He’ll question him when he’s actually aware of his surroundings.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Thirsty.”

 

Brian looks over at Justin and sees his eyes open for the first time in hours. Justin keeps staring at him, somewhat blankly, but Brian thinks he may be getting a little better.

 

“You want me to see if the nurse can bring you some water?”

 

Justin seems to mentally go over what that question means and nods his head.

 

Brian reaches over to press the call button and they wait. One of the nurses come by and Justin mumbles out something so Brian translates for him. She’s back pretty quickly and Brian tells her he’ll give it to him.

 

“Can you sit up?”

 

Justin nods, barely lifts his head, then lays it back down.

 

“I’ll recline the bed back up a little and sit beside you to keep the cup steady.”

 

Brian does just that and holds the cup up to Justin’s lips. Justin manages to sip on the water and quenches his thirst.

 

“Let me know if you need more,” Brian tells him as he starts to get up to sit back in the chair. However, Justin hugs his arm to him and lays his head against it.

 

Brian sighs and takes his other arm to bring Justin’s head into his chest and kiss it, then runs his fingers through his hair.

 

“You feeling a little better?”

 

Justin hesitates, then shrugs.

 

“You know who I am?”

 

Justin nods his head.

 

“You know you scared the shit out of me?”

 

Justin nods again and clings to his arm more tightly.

 

“Well, as long as you know.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning comes along more quickly than he thought it would. Brian ended up curling up at the edge of the bed to hold Justin in the middle of the night and he must have fallen asleep as well. He wakes up to the sound of Justin’s voice.

 

“Brian?”

 

Brian lifts his head up to look down at Justin, who is looking confused and a bit frightened.

 

“You know where you are?”

 

“A hospital…why am I at a hospital?”

 

Brian sits up and sits back in the chair.

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

Justin squints and thinks about it.

 

“Going back to Brett’s pool house to pack and getting a motel room.”

 

That takes Brian by surprise.

 

“Why were you packing your stuff?”

 

Justin shrugs and plays with his blanket.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

 

“Well, wanna talk about how you overdosed on cocaine, had a couple of seizures, and had a brush with death?”

 

Justin’s eyes widen and he flinches at that.

 

“Why the fuck were you snorting that shit, Justin? You told me you were never going to fuck with cocaine again after Sap.”

 

“I don’t remember.”

 

“Jesus Christ, Justin,” Brian breathes out then continues, “Have you been doing it since you got here? Do I need to get you help?”

 

“What? No! I haven’t done it at all! I’ve only drank and smoked weed, Brian, I swear!”

 

“Apparently you’ve done more than that since you’ve gotten here. You are in a damn hospital because you overdosed! So you better be thinking really fucking hard on what happened.”

 

Justin grips his head and bends over.

 

“Does your head hurt?”

 

“Yes, it fucking hurts!”

 

“I’ll call the nurse.”

 

The nurse comes in, who goes and gets the doctor on the clock. He examines Justin, asks him a few questions, gives him Aleve for the pain and plans on doing another MRI in the next couple of hours. After he leaves, Brian can tell Justin is not all there and is still feeling strange but he’s still mostly Justin so he really is going to try to get down to the bottom of this without pushing too hard.

 

“Justin, do you remember anything at all?”

 

Justin sighs.

 

“Not…not really. I think I remember a party I went to yesterday at Connor’s friend’s place. It started early. But I don’t remember actually being there.”

 

“Justin…I know you. I know you wouldn’t do anything more than weed, and occasionally E, unless something was really bothering you. Have you been going through something that you’re not telling me about?”

 

Justin looks away, sad and defeated, then shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Hey,” Brian gently says, “Tell me.”

 

“Rage is over. It got scrapped by the studio.”

 

“What?”

 

“They decided not to take a chance on it after all. Picked up some Bible saga. So my job is gone and the movie’s never happening.”

 

“Justin, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

 

“Why shouldn’t I be? I’m a fucking failure.”

 

“Don’t talk like that. It isn’t true. It’s not your fault the film got canned. You know that.”

 

Justin just shakes his head in denial and looks down at his blanket.

 

“When did this happen?”

 

“Wednesday.”

 

“…Justin, it’s Tuesday. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

 

Justin looks at him in bewilderment.

 

“I was too embarrassed, Brian. I mean…look at you. You’re so successful. You’re rich, handsome, smart, and talented. You are a C.E.O. of the best advertising company in Pittsburgh. This was a chance for me to become successful too. I fucking loved working on the movie. I was so excited to see it come to life. I didn’t want to come home with nothing to show for it.”

 

“But you have nothing to be ashamed of-”

 

“Yes, I do,” Justin hisses at him then continues.

 

“It was something I really wanted to do. It made me happy to be able to work on it. And now I’ll never have it again.”

 

Brian stares at Justin and sees his despair over this. He can’t let him stay this way, even if what he’s about to offer may hurt Brian himself.

 

“Do you want to stay out here?”

 

“What?”

 

“I asked you if you want to stay out here.”

 

“I don’t know. I want to be…doing something.”

 

“You will do something, Justin. You are so fucking talented. Sometimes I think you aren’t even completely aware of what a genius you are. It sucks that this job falling through has given your self-esteem a big blow. But even if you don’t believe in yourself, I still believe in you. I’ll get you an apartment out here so you can apply for different jobs in the industry. If that makes you happy, I’ll do it.”

 

“Brian…” Justin chokes out.

 

“You deserve to be seen, Sunshine.”

 

“It…it isn’t about staying in LA. I liked feeling important and liked the job. I had a great time. But that’s not why it upset me so much. I got upset because I knew I would have to come back and you would realize that you were dating someone so much more beneath you.”

 

Brian waits for Justin to admit that he’s kidding, but the admission never comes.

 

“I…I wanted to be your equal. Be your partner for real. I wanted the career boost and the experience, sure, but I wanted to come back home and make you proud. I guess I went to that party in a bad mood and did something stupid. Now I’m here. I’m sorry, Brian.”

 

Is Justin fucking kidding him right now?

 

“You are such a stupid twat.”

 

Justin flinches and Brian continues.

 

“If you have ever paid just a little bit of attention, you would know that I’ve ALWAYS been proud of you. Always have been, always will be. You’ve accomplished so much more than I ever did at 21. Don’t be so fucking hard on yourself. But even if you decide to work at the diner for the rest of your life, I will never stop being proud of you and I will never be embarrassed to be with you. You hear me?”

 

Justin stares at him and nods.

 

“Glad we’re on the same page. If you ever think about snorting coke again, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if I’m the one who has it. You aren’t risking this happening again. I’m not paying another 19,000 dollars on a private jet so I can get across the country before you wake up.”

 

“You did not get a private jet…”

 

But Justin trails off and his jaw drops when he sees Brian’s raised eyebrow.

 

“That’s so wasteful, Brian.”

 

“What’s done is done. Get some more rest.”

 

Justin is feeling tired again so he doesn’t fight Brian on the command. He lies back down and Brian gets the blankets tucked in around him.

 

“You so care about me. You love me sooo much…” Justin mumbles as he falls back asleep.

 

As Brian watches Justin close his eyes to regain his strength, he realizes that he wasn’t even tempted to deny it.

Chapter End Notes:

I really don't know the point in this one-shot. My father suffers from epilepsy and has petit mal seizures and my 95 year old great-grandmother was having grand mal seizures when I wrote this. Justin's reactions are similar to hers, except toned down. So I guess that sort of brought the fic on. Despite my family history, I don't have loads of knowledge on seizures so try to look past any discrepancies or let me know what to fix. Also, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

The End.
Annie-Eliza is the author of 16 other stories.

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