Brian ate a few bites of his dinner, but left most on the tray. Picking up the remote, he flipped on the television and looked for something that might hold his interest. He heard a knock on the door.

"Come in! If you're here to pick up the tray, I'm done," he yelled as he flipped passed ESPN.

"I'm not here for your food tray, but I did bring you some leftovers from my latest cooking party! I'm trying out new recipes for the summer wedding season, and I have to see what works," Emmett gushed.

"Em... what brings you to this part of the world?" Brian asked as he flipped off the television.

"I thought you could use a little company, and I know that hospital food will kill you. Why, my Aunt Lula used to bring her homemade cherry pie to every one of her friends when they were sick. She said that hospital food wasn't fit for a dog. And seeing how I was trying out new recipes, I thought I would let you taste some, too. Wouldn't want you to feel left out." Emmett pulled the cart over toward him and proceeded to empty the large bag he brought with him. Inside the bag were small containers of food which he placed on the tray. He rolled the tray back to the bed so Brian could easily reach it.

"There you are. I'm sure these morsels will be much better than that dinner."

Brian picked up his fork and dipped it in the first dish he saw, tentatively bringing it up to his mouth. He sniffed it, and then took a bite. He was pleasantly surprised.

"Not bad, Honeycutt. What is this?"

"Oh, that is just a little salmon cake I cooked up. Isn't it just divine? That one's been a big hit with everyone. I'm sure I'll make a lot of those this summer." Emmett pulled a chair over to the bed and waited for Brian to taste some additional dishes.

"I'm not a lab rat. Don't watch me eat," Brian chided him.

"Sorry. I'll just run down the hall and get a soda. I'll be right back. Now, I want you to try everything. You are looking skinnier then ever," Emmett directed. Emmett left the room, going to the soda machine at the end of the hallway.

Brian tentatively took several bites from the other dishes before Emmett returned. These aren't bad, actually; Emmett can really cook.

Emmett returned, sitting down in the chair and popping the top of his drink. "So?"

"They're good. I guess you finally found your true queer calling." Brian took another bite. "So tell me, why are you really here?"

"To see how you're doing... and to offer some advice."

"I didn't ask for your advice," Brian said gruffly.

"I know, but I'm here, so I'll give it to you anyway." Emmett ignored the frown lines on Brian's forehead, and plugged away with his little speech. "Brian, remember when Teddy was slipping down the slippery slope of ‘Tina'?" Emmett asked, hoping he wouldn't have to go into a lot of detail.

"Yes."

"Do you remember what you told me at Babylon that night?" Emmett started packing up the sample dishes on Brian's tray.

Brian put down his fork and pushed the cart away from the bed. "What's your point, Honeycutt? I don't like playing twenty questions," Brian asked pointedly. He frowned, and placed his fore and index finger at the bridge of his nose and pressed.

"You told me to forget him, that he was dead, and I was so mad at you. But then we danced, and I realized that you really cared that I didn't get hurt." Emmett wiped the moisture from his eyes.

"So?" Brian sighed loudly.

"I just wanted you to know that I care, Brian. You really scared me. Please get some help." Emmett placed the last of the dishes into his big bag.

Brian scooted down in the bed and pulled the covers up. "That's it? That's what you wanted to tell me?"

"That's it." Emmett waved his hand in a flip.

Brian grumbled, "Well, I don't need any help. I'm tired, so I think you need to go."

‘Okay. I'll just take the containers and get out of your hair."

"That's an excellent idea." Brian closed his eyes and listened for Emmett's departure.

When he didn't hear anymore sounds from Emmett, he reopened his eyes and sat up in bed. Why is it that everyone thinks they can lecture me and give me advice just because I'm in this damn hospital? They say things they would never say to me before, and think they can get away with it. As Mikey would say, "I'm Brian Fucking Kinney," and I don't need anyone to lecture me. Jesus!

Brian picked up the remote and flipped through the channels a second time. He finally found an old James Dean movie and watched it for awhile. When the commercials came on, he looked at Gus's picture hanging on the wall in front of him. Sonny boy. Even you are trying to tell me things in your own little six year old way. You, me and Justin in front of the loft. I wonder if your mommy told you to draw that; I doubt it. Your mommy feels that Justin should be in New York, and your momma hates my guts. There are times when I wonder what came over me when I agreed to provide my jizz to your mommy. I never thought I would want a kid, but you've been the best part of my life- you and Justin. I love you more than I ever thought possible. Justin thinks I make a great dad, and you seem to worship me. Wonder what you'd think of your old man if you really knew the truth? Maybe Vic is right and I've been given a second chance with you. I'll take you to that park and we'll play soccer. I'll even teach your friend to play. Wonder if his daddy is aware that Dada is queer? Guess he might if he knows your mommies are cwazy wesbians. Oh well, that is their hang-up, not mine. I've got enough on my plate without worrying if your friend's parents care if I'm queer.

Brian watched the rest of the movie, and then turned off the television. He pushed the button for the nurse, who assisted him to use the restroom before he went to bed. He turned down the lights and fell into a deep sleep.

__________________________

Daphne came home about 9:00 and saw Justin in the living room sitting on the couch, sketch pad in his lap, biting his lower lip as he drew his picture. Walking over to the couch, she looked at the picture.

"How sweet! Brian really loves that little guy. Hard to believe that someone like Brian is a father," she remarked.

Justin looked up from his sketching and put down his pencil. "What do you mean? Brian is a great dad," Justin defended his lover.

Daphne sat down on the couch, turning to look at Justin. "Oh, I didn't mean he wasn't a good dad. It's just, Brian and fatherhood doesn't seem to belong in the same universe. He's a high-powered CEO of his own advertising company who lives by his own rules, no apologies, no regrets, and yet he agreed to provide sperm to his lesbian friend so she could be a mom. He parties, drinks, and has anonymous sex with a zillion guys. It's just not the picture that society has of fatherhood."

"True, but gay mothers and fathers aren't societal norm, either," Justin countered.

"I'm not trying to start an argument, Justin. I like Brian, most of the time. It's just that if I didn't know him, I wouldn't think he was father material. You've said yourself, Brian didn't expect to have anything to do with Gus, that he was only supplying the sperm to Lindsay,' Daphne reminded him. "Want a beer?" she asked as she walked toward the kitchen.

"Sure." Justin picked up his pencil and put some finishing touches on the picture. "How was the party?"

"Fun. I bought a ton of candles!" She returned to the living room with the beers and took a drink from her bottle as she placed Justin's on a coaster. "You packed?"

Justin turned the portrait around, showing it to Daphne. "I'm bringing this to the hospital tomorrow. They have this really neat cork strip in the patient's rooms for them to hang cards and stuff on, and I'm going to hang it up for Brian."

"How sweet! Gus is just adorable... I can't believe he's going to be seven in a few months."

Answering Daphne's earlier question, Justin continued, "I didn't really have much to pack except my toiletries. All my show-worthy stuff is in New York. I hadn't realized how little I have here. I might try to bring some stuff back with me when I come back. Is that okay?"

"Are you sure? Are you planning on living with Brian when he gets out of the hospital? You know, you two don't have the best track record of living together, and he'll need a lot of attention."

Justin put his sketch pad in his messenger bag, and picked up his beer. He took a deep breath and drank half the bottle before answering. "That is exactly why I need to be at the loft. He's made it really clear that I'm here to be the gatekeeper. I can't do that if I'm living with you. You know that once he's home, there will be a constant barrage of people wanting a piece of him. Michael, Debbie, not to mention Cynthia and Ted. At least Cynthia and Ted will call first and make sure he's up to seeing them, but Debbie and Michael- they will come whenever they want, and stay forever. He needs his rest, and I want to be there."

"Okay, point taken, but..."

"But what?" Justin asked again.

"What happens when he's recovered?"

"I'm taking this one day at a time, Daph. I want to move back here and paint. I'm going to talk to my agent when I go this weekend. I paint, he talks to galleries. It's different than in the beginning where I had to go from gallery to gallery, selling myself and my work. I can easily send him shots of my work if the galleries want a sample. Its not like he's going to carry my canvases all over town," Justin explained. Justin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Can you take me to the hospital in the morning? My mom is picking me up there and taking us to the airport."

"Sure. Good night, Justin."

"Night, Daphne," Justin replied as he stood up and walked to his room.

In the morning, he showered and ate a quick breakfast. Daphne was up and ready by the time he placed his toiletries in his messenger bag. She made good time driving through rush hour traffic, and dropped him at the hospital.

"Good luck with the show, Justin. Say hi to Brian, and give him a kiss for me."

Justin laughed. "I'll give him a kiss but he won't like it. He prefers tongue when he kisses me," Justin teased as he kissed her cheek.

"Eww." Daphne stuck her tongue out at Justin as he reached for his messenger bag. "See you on Saturday."

Justin went up to the fifth floor and walked to Brian's room. He was sitting in a regular chair, and had a cane by his side. Justin placed his messenger bag by the door and walked to Brian, leaning down giving him a kiss on the cheek. "That's from Daphne," he explained as he saw Brian's perplexed face. Bending down again, he gave Brian a proper kiss, with tongue. After a few moments, he straightened up. "That's from me. Good morning. I take it Jose has been here, since you have a cane now."

"Yep, been and gone. Fucker got me up just after I finished by lovely lukewarm eggs and over cooked coffee. I can't wait to go back to the loft, just so you can cook me a decent breakfast," Brian complained. Brian looked around and saw Justin's messenger bag. "Aren't you leaving for ‘Nude York' this morning? I distinctly remember you telling me you were going to talk to your agent, and get ready for a fabulous art show."

"'Nude York'? Huh," Justin laughed. "I think I like that name. Yes, I'm leaving, but all my stuff is still in ‘Nude York', and all I really need is my toiletry kit and that's in my messenger bag. I'll have to go by my apartment and get anything else there that I need," Justin explained.

Brian stood up, and walked to the table where his work lay. He picked up a few magazines and walked slowly back to the chair.

"You did that well. Are you supposed to walk when Jose isn't with you?" Justin asked.

"He gave me the damn cane. Of course I can walk without him being in the room. I'm not an invalid, Justin! So what are your plans?"

Justin looked at Brian quizzically. "Plans? I don't understand."

"What time is mother Taylor picking you up?"

"Oh. About 11:00. I figured I'd keep you company until I have to leave; after all you won't have my charming personality and wit for three whole days," Justin kidded.

"I have work to do. You can stay if you want, but it's not necessary."

A knock on the door, interrupted their conversation.

"Come in," Brian called out.

"Mr. Kinney?" the thirty-something brunette asked as she walked into the room, and looked at Brian.

"That's me."

"I'm Karen Trian, and Dr. Moya asked me to come speak with you." She held out her hand to Brian, but he didn't shake it.

"I gave that other lady my insurance information. What else does the hospital need?" Brian groused.

"I work in the CD unit."

"What the fuck is a CD unit?" Brian snarked.

"Chemical Dependency. We treat people with addictions," she explained. She flipped through a file of papers and reviewed them before continuing. "According to your medical chart, you were brought in from an overdose of alcohol and street drugs. Now that you are medically stable, Dr. Moya would like you transferred to the CD unit to address your alcohol and drug use."

Justin felt a cold chill move through his body and a huge knot grow in his stomach. Shit! This woman is telling Brian he has a problem with alcohol and drugs. He's going to throw a fit! You do not tell Brian Kinney he has any sort of problem and live to tell about it.

"I don't have a problem with alcohol," Brian refuted.

You didn't say drugs. Your father was a drunk, and your mother is too. In school we had a DARE course about drugs and alcohol, and the statistics show that if your parents abuse drugs or alcohol, you're at a much higher risk to be an addict yourself. Shit! I'm doing my public service announcement shtick again. But, maybe this woman has a point. Brian does drink a lot, and God knows he uses drugs all the time. Maybe it's pain management, but still. Could he have a real problem? I don't know if I could handle him being an addict. Stop it- I can handle anything. I love him, and I told him I'd help him. If he needs to do this, I'll stand by his side. Shit! I guess I could give up drugs and alcohol if I needed to. Babylon wouldn't be as much fun, but if Brian was there, he'd be the only drug I'd needed. Funny, how I think of him as a drug. I'm addicted to my boyfriend. Better not say that out loud, or he'll kick me so far out of his life, I'll never see him again.

Tuning back into the conversation, Justin realized that Brian was becoming increasingly angry.

"You overdosed. I would say that was a problem," Karen reminded him. "I have some paperwork for you to look at and fill out. I'll be back in a little while to finalize the transfer."

"The hell you will! I am not going to any fucking treatment program! I do not fucking have a problem with alcohol or drugs!" he yelled as he threw the papers in the trash. "Don't bother coming back because I'm not going anywhere, but home to my loft!"

"I'll share that with Dr. Moya. I'll see you soon, Mr. Kinney." Karen left another set of papers on the table and walked out of the room.

"That bitch! Thinks she can strong arm me into some fucking loser rehab ward! I'm not a fucking addict. I have a successful advertising business that cleared over three million dollars last year. Addicts can't hold jobs and are total losers. What the fuck does she know?"

A knock interrupted them again.

"Come in and join the fucking party," Brian yelled.

Jennifer walked in and gave Justin a hug and kiss. "Hello, Sweetie. Where's your bag? I thought you were bringing it with you." Jennifer said as she looked around the hospital room. Justin gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged her back. "Hi mom. You're early. I didn't think you were coming until 11:00."

She walked over to Brian, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hello Brian. Glad to see you're doing better. Oh, I got done early at the office. My client came in early to sign the papers, so I decided to come see Brian."

"Oh," Justin remarked.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. We were just talking. Do you think you could wait in the visitor's lounge for a few minutes while we finish our conversation?" Justin asked.

"Sure sweetie. If I don't get a chance to come back, Brian, feel better." Jennifer left the room and walked down to the visitor's lounge.

"Jesus! It's fucking circus around here. And I do not belong in the fucking CD unit!" Brian reiterated.

"Okay. Calm down. She suggested it. It isn't mandatory. Shit, Brian. What are you going to do?"

"Do? Nothing. I'm going to do my therapy with Jose and when you come back, you will take me home to the loft. That bitch, Karen is not part of the equation. Now, run along to your show. I'll be here when you get back." Brian waved his hand toward Justin, shooing him out the door.

"Can I get you anything before I leave?"

Brian's eyes twinkled. "How about a blow job? Your mom was early."

Justin blushed. "I am not giving you a blow job. I do, however, love you. Have a good afternoon. Sorry I can't stay and keep the evil people away," Justin apologized.

"Sorry's bullshit. Now go."

Justin walked over to Brian and leaned his forehead against Brian's. "Later," he said as he gently kissed Brian on the lips.

Brian returned the kiss and opened his mouth, exploring Justin's sweet taste. They kissed for several minutes, before Brian pulled away. He leaned his head against Justin's forehead and repeated their mantra. "Later." He watched Justin pick up his messenger bag and leave the room.