Justin returned to Daphne's home where he took a shower and collapsed into bed. His alarm went off at 8:00 the next morning. He and Daphne had a bowl of cereal and some yogurt, and she drove him to the hospital once again.

"Call if you need anything. I'll leave work early and come sit with you."

"You don't have to, Daphne," Justin said as he opened the door.

"You're my best friend. Of course, I do."

By now the route to the nurse's station was a familiar one, and once there he flagged down one of the busy nurses.

"Excuse me, how is Brian?"

The nurse picked up his chart. "He had a quiet evening. He's having his second dialysis treatment now, but you can see him in twenty minutes."

"Thank you.'

Justin went to the waiting area and saw the same man from yesterday. He sat down opposite the man.

"How's your wife?"

"Alive. The doctor stopped her bleeding. They say the next 24 hours are critical."

"That's good."

The two men sat in silence for a few moments.

"Oh, how rude of me. How is your partner?"

"The same. Thanks for asking."

Justin had brought his back pack today with his art supplies, hoping to make the time go faster. He pulled out a small sketch pad and began drawing the man in the waiting room. The worry lines on the man's forehead and around his eyes seemed to age him almost daily. The man had told him he was only thirty, yet Justin thought he looked closer to forty; the circles under his eyes were almost black from lack of sleep and his unshaven face cast a dark pallor on his skin. When he kept busy, time seemed to go faster, and soon it was time for him to see Brian.

He walked into Brian's room, hearing the beeping noise of the ECG machine and seeing the readout of the Pulse Ox meter. He didn't understand their purpose, but knew they were monitoring important bodily functions. Brian looked peaceful, and if it weren't for the wires and tubes coming out of his body, Justin would think he was sleeping. His slight snore comforted Justin, knowing that this part of Brian was unchanged. He walked up to Brian, caressing his arm, telling him a few short tidbits about his day and putting Chap Stick on his lips. His fifteen minutes passed quickly and he touched their foreheads together and said, "Later."

_____________________________________________________________
He developed a routine of sorts over the next week. Talk to Brian, draw, pace, walk down to the gas station for a snack or cigarettes, and eat.

Justin had kept Lindsay and Melanie informed, and they had told the rest of the family. Everyone showed up at least once a day for a few hours, and Justin was forced to give up some of his visiting time, as still only two visitors were allowed in the room.

Justin had been keeping his vigil for ten days. He was getting ready to leave Brian's room, having said his ritual goodbye- touching Brian's forehead with his own and saying, "Later."- when Brian's eyes fluttered open.

"Jus...n," Brian mumbled, but then his eyes closed again.

"Brian! Brian!" Justin exclaimed. "Nurse, he said my name," Justin yelled as he ran to the nurse's station.

The nurse followed Justin into Brian's room and took his vitals again. "It sounds like he could be waking up. We'll watch for further signs of consciousness."

For the first time since his arrival, he was hopeful as he left Brian's room in the ICU. The first thing he did was to go to the lobby.

He scrolled through his phone and he pushed the button.

"Hey Justin. Everything okay?" Daphne anxiously asked.

"He said my name!" Justin almost yelled.

"He's awake. That's wonderful. Did he say anything else?"

"Daph, that only happens in the movies. The doctor told me when he does start waking up, it would be several days before he can be coherent enough to talk," Justin said.

"That's great news. I know you're relieved. I wonder if they'll move him out of intensive care?"

Justin paced in front of the windows that were on the south side of the lobby as he talked. He tried sitting, but soon found himself popping up like a Jack in the Box. "I just hope these next few days go by fast. I really want him to be awake. I have a few choice words for Mr. Kinney."

Daphne shuffled some papers on her desk. "I have to go, but I'll be there around 5:30."

"Okay. See you then."

Justin closed his phone, and then sat in the chair. He had another call to make and he scrolled through the numbers in his phone until he found the correct entry. He dialed.
"Red Cape Comics," Michael said.

"He opened his eyes. He's coming out of his coma," Justin said as he stood up again.

"Great! That's wonderful! Now that he's okay, you can go back to New York."

Justin stopped his pacing and took a few deep breaths. "I'm not going anywhere. Brian needs me and I'm going to be here until he's well."

"I'm his best friend. You left and went to New York. You hadn't seen him in months," Michael whined.

"I don't need your permission to stay. I'll leave when I decide to, not when you do. Goodbye, Michael." Justin disconnected the phone. He put on his coat and walked outside.

He took a few more deep breaths and started walking to the gas station two blocks away. He really wanted some cigarettes, and he'd run out last night.

"Damn Michael Novotny, and damn you Brian Kinney for making Michael think he ever had a chance with you. Yeah, he's married now and has his Stepford fag family, but he still pines for you. My life would have been so much easier if you had squelched his fantasies years ago. When you really wake up, you are going to tell Michael... What the hell am I doing? I'm talking to a man who just came out of a coma and is in the hospital several blocks away. I'm really losing it. It's just so damn frustrating to see Michael undermine my relationship with Brian. Yes, it's a relationship. He won't use those words, but we both know they're true."

Walking up to the counter, he waited behind several other customers.

"Lucky Strikes, please," he requested.

"That'll be $4.00."

Justin handed over his money and the clerk gave him his cigarettes. He lit one as he walked back to the hospital. "I wish I could smoke at the hospital, it would have made the waiting so much easier." Taking a last drag, he put out the butt, and eagerly went up to the ICU.

Daphne came to the hospital that night, as did Lindsay, Melanie, Michael and Debbie. Justin knew the rest of the family would probably show up tomorrow. Since Brian was still in ICU, only two visitors were allowed at a time, and that meant Justin didn't get to see Brian until the last visit for the night.

"Hey, you," Justin said quietly. "I always liked when you said my name since you frequently refer to me as Twat, Little Stalker, or Twink but this afternoon, I don't think I've ever heard more beautiful sounds." Justin looked at the familiar machines with their multitude of wires and tubes hooked up to Brian. "Soon you won't need the Dialysis or the Pulse Ox machines, but I guess they'll keep the ECG machine hooked up for while.

He leaned over Brian, touching his forehead with his own and said, "Later."

Justin and Daphne left for the night, and Justin slept better than he had since returning to Pittsburgh. For the next five days, Justin continued to spend his days at the hospital, and each day Brian had longer periods of consciousness. The nurses documented his increased awareness. His kidney function had improved, so they stopped the dialysis, but kept the shunt in.

Dr. Houston completed his morning visit to Brian and went to the patient waiting area to talk to Justin. "Mr. Taylor, I think we're ready to move Mr. Kinney to the Med/Surg unit. We'll keep the shunt in for a few more days while we continue to monitor his urine output and blood work," Dr. Houston explained. "Dr. Mora will be assigned to his care."

"So, he's going to be okay?" Justin hesitantly asked.

"His kidney function is at eighty five percent and appears to be improving every day."

"But...."

"Mr. Taylor, Mr. Kinney has been in a coma for almost two weeks. He damaged his kidneys and while they're functioning, they're still stressed. In addition, he damaged his leg and he is weak. He will have at least a month, if not more, of rehab," Dr. Houston said as he his pager went off. "I have to go. The nurses will answer any other questions."

"Thank you," Justin said to the back of the retreating doctor and turned toward the nurse's station.

"Excuse me," he said. "Dr. Houston said my friend, Brian, is to be moved to Med/Surg. Will that happen today?"

Picking up Brian's chart, the nurse flipped through the latest notes. "The orders are written. I'll call the Med/Surg unit and make arrangements. His room probably won't be ready for several hours."

"Thank you. I appreciate all you've done for Brian," Justin smiled one of his ‘sunshine smiles'.

"You're welcome," the nurse smiled at Justin, his smile brightening her day.

Three hours later Brian was moved to the Med/Surg floor.

"Brian, I'm so happy that you're going to be okay," Justin spoke softly as the orderlies pushed Brian's bed to the new floor. He walked along the bed, holding Brian's hand. After the nurses set Brian up, Justin sat with him in his room. When visiting hours were over, he gave his now-normal goodbye.

"It's time for me to go," Justin leaned down touching his forehead to Brian's, "Later," he said.

"Later," Brian said back.

Justin picked up his messenger bag and went to the lobby to meet Daphne. She drove up to the familiar circle where patients are dropped off and Justin got in her car.

"Let's go out for a drink," Justin suggested as he threw his messenger bag in the back.

"Sounds good. Did something happen? You're practically lighting the interior of my car," Daphne kidded.

"Brian was moved to a new room. He's no longer in ICU,' Justin informed her.

"That's great! I know you're relieved. Wanna go to Woodys?"

"No. I don't want to run into any of the gang. What about some hetero bar? I just want a quiet night," Justin answered as shook his head no.

"Okay. There's a bar down the street from my apartment where I meet my friends sometimes. It's like Woodys for heteros."

"Sounds good."

They walked in and found a small table. The waitress came up and took their orders, bringing them both back beers.

Daphne swirled her beer in the wet spot on the table, "So, Brian's been moved out of the ICU?"

"Yep. I got to spend two uninterrupted hours with him this afternoon," Justin joked. "Mind you he was doing his rendition of Sleeping Beauty during most of it, but still."

"Sleeping Beauty?" Daphne asked, her eyebrows rose.

Justin took a swig of his beer and placed it on the table. "Yeah. He slept through most of it. I think even moving made him tired," Justin laughed. "I don't think Brian's slept this much since he was a baby."

"Did you guys talk?" Daphne asked.

"No, not really. He said ‘hey' and asked if he'd been moved. We flipped through the channels on the TV mostly. He's staying awake for thirty minutes to an hour these days, but he still hasn't asked what happened."

Daphne frowned. "I thought you said he'd been awake for several days. You haven't talked to him yet?"

"Today was the first day I got to be with him for any length of time. Hard to have a significant conversation in only fifteen minutes. Besides, the fifteen minutes for visiting didn't always coincide with his being awake. He's usually more awake in the morning. I imagine tomorrow he'll probably start the third degree." Justin finished his beer and stretched his body. "You about done? This sounded like a really good idea, but now I want to go home, shower and go to bed."

Daphne nodded and finished her beer. "Sure. I'll drop you off at the apartment. I've got some errands to run and then I'll be home."

___________________________________________

Daphne placed the last of the eggs on a plate and took the pancakes out of the microwave where they had been keeping warm.

She knocked on Justin's door. "Breakfast is ready."

"Go away,' Justin mumbled into the pillow.

"Can't. I've got to get to work and you've got to Brian sit," she yelled through the door.

Justin sat up in bed, dragging his hands over his face and stretching his arms over his head. "I'm coming. Let me brush my teeth; it's been so long since I drank anything with alcohol that it tastes like something died in my mouth." He threw on some clothes and went to the bathroom to take care of business.

"I didn't think you had enough pans to cook this amount of food," Justin grinned as he eyed the breakfast on the table. He got out two plates, silverware, and poured each of them a glass of juice and milk. Sitting down, he motioned for her to join him.

Daphne put a pancake on her plate and poured a little syrup on top. She picked up her fork and knife and cut a section off. "So, now that Brian's awake, what are your plans?"

Justin placed two pancakes, some eggs and two pieces of bacon on his plate. He picked up a knife to butter his pancakes, not stopping his food preparations. "What do you mean? I plan on going to the hospital, just like I have every day since I got here, and help Brian with his recovery. He may be awake, but he's going to have to have Occupational Therapy, Physical Therapy and maybe even Speech Therapy. He's been in bed for almost two weeks and his muscles are really weak." Justin took a fork full of eggs and ate them. "These are good," he commented, somewhat surprised.

"I mean, are you going back to New York? Brian woke up, and the medical decisions are made."

Justin dropped his fork with his piece of pancake on it and glared at Daphne. "You know, I would have thought you would be different. Michael asked me when I was going back to New York, too. I thought you understood!"

"I do understand, Justin. It's just that I hate to see you hurt, and you and I both know that Brian won't be nice when he wakes up."

"Daphne, I know that Brian has a mean streak as big as your apartment, but I also know that it is tempered by his generous nature. No one believes me when I say that, but I know it's true."

"Okay. I don't want to fight with you. I just want to be sure that you know what you're doing." Daphne picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of pancake. She ate several more bites and took a drink of juice, and then put down her fork. "What about your show? I know its coming up, and I know neither you nor Brian would want you to lose that opportunity."

"I'm not sure. I have some time before I really need to worry about it, but you're right - I need to paint." Justin took another bite of eggs before answering. He pushed the plate away from him and stretched. "Strong emotions and upheavals tend to give me a boost when it comes to my painting. I was getting a little stale in New York. I lacked my edge. I can feel it coming back now."

"So Brian's coma was a good thing for your art?" Daphne asked as she brought her plate to the sink.

"It's not like that, Daph! You make it sound like I need bad things to happen for my art to be good." Justin picked up his plate, dumping the remaining food in the trash and then giving the plate to Daphne. "My art comes from in here." Justin put his hand over his heart. "I feel every piece I paint."

Justin looked at the clock and said, "I need to shower so I can get to the hospital. Can you take me on your way to work or do I need to catch the bus?"

"I'll drop you off. Now go, or I'll be late," Daphne said as she pushed him toward the bathroom.

Justin had a bounce to his step. He never thought he would look forward to going into a hospital, but after the last two weeks, he finally didn't dread walking in. He knew that Brian was going to be okay. He pushed the button for the 5th floor and walked to Brian's room.

He knocked out of politeness, but he didn't really expect to be told he couldn't come in. Brian was sitting up in bed and drinking some juice.

"Hey," Justin said as he walked into the room. "I see that you're enjoying real food."

"What the hell happened?"

Justin had dreaded this question and wasn't really sure how he wanted to answer it. "You're in the hospital," he said, deciding to keep it simple. He knew there was a lot of time to address the other shit later.

"I know that," Brian said as he glared at Justin. "Tell me why I'm here."

"Oh that." Justin walked over to the window and opened the blinds to let the sun in. "It's a beautiful day, sunny but a little cold."

"I don't fucking care about the weather, Justin! Just answer the damn question," Brian yelled, using up most of his reserves.

"You were in a coma," Justin said as he kept all the particulars absent from the answer.

"What the fuck? A coma..." Brian leaned back against his pillows and was silent.

Justin turned toward Brian and saw that he had closed his eyes again.

That went well. I can't wait to tell him how he got in the coma. That should be really fun.

Brian slept for the next several hours, so Justin took out his sketch pad and did the most natural thing in the world. He sketched Brian. He sketched the face without the shunt in his neck; otherwise, Brian was unscathed from his ordeal. He still had his beautiful brown hair and the most gorgeous facial bone structure.

Justin had been sitting for an hour and needed to stretch. He left his sketch book on the chair and walked into the hallway. He walked the length of the hallway several times and used the bathroom. Even though Brian was awake, he still wanted to ask the medical staff about his progress; therefore, he stopped at the nurses' station to check on Brian's condition.

"I'm Justin Taylor. Can you tell me how Brian Kinney in room 514 is doing?"

The nurse picked up his chart and said, "He's doing well. His urine output is normal and all his blood work is satisfactory. His stitches appear to be healing as well."

"Thank you," Justin said as he started to walk away, but then turned back to the nurse. "Stitches. What stitches? I wasn't aware that he had any stitches."

The nurse reviewed the chart again. "He had stitches in his leg. They should be coming out tomorrow."

"Why did he have stitches?" Justin asked as he tried to remember if the doctor had said anything about stitches.

"You'll have to ask his doctor. I think he's already seen Mr. Kinney. Maybe you can talk to him tomorrow."

"Thank you," Justin said as he walked back toward Brian's room. If he has stitches, that means they are somewhere not very visible. Brian is going to shit. I hope that they will be well hidden. I can't imagine the Stud of Liberty Avenue with a scar in a strategic place.

Justin returned to Brian's room and picked up his sketch pad. About an hour later, the dietary department came with a tray for Brian. Justin eyed the dishes. There was Jell-O, clear broth, and dry toast. At least he would eat the dry toast. I can't imagine Brian putting any of the other food in his mouth. He's lost so much weight. I guess I'll really have to work on getting him to eat. He needs his strength to get better. If they feed him this shit, he'll never get well.

Brian woke up a few minutes after the food arrived.

"Hey, you're awake," Justin said as he smiled at Brian.

"I knew you were smart. Is that my lunch? Or should I say, is that what passes for food in this place?"

"Yeah. It's your lunch. You need to eat so you can regain your strength," Justin urged as he pushed the rolling table closer to Brian's bed.

"Stop treating me like a child. I know what I need to do," Brian said. "Go home, Justin. I don't need you here."

"You're not a child and I'm not going home. I want to help you."

"I don't need your help," Brian said as he tried to sit up.

Ignoring Brian's little tirade, Justin went to Brian's bed and helped arrange Brian's pillows so he could eat. He didn't comment on Brian's statement.

Brian ate a few bites of toast and a few spoonfuls of broth.

"This smells like your gym shoes. Get it away from me." Brian tried to push the table away, but barely had the strength to move it more than two inches.

Justin moved the cart away from the bed. "Can I get you anything?"

"Some real food. That stuff will kill me."

"I'll see what the nurses say you can eat." Justin went to the nurse's station. "Excuse me, my friend, Brian doesn't like his lunch. Is there something else he can eat?"

The nurse smiled at Justin and picked up Brian's chart. "It says a liquid diet. You can give him some white soda like Ginger ale or Sprite. He can have Jell-O, clear soup, and ice chips. We may have some popsicles. If he doesn't have any problems with those, he can try soft foods tomorrow."

"I'll get him a soda." Justin went to the soda machine and bought Brian some Ginger Ale. He brought it back to the room, but found Brian sleeping again.

He placed the soda can in the wash basin along with some ice from the pitcher. He hoped that it would keep the soda somewhat cool.

He watched Brian sleep. He felt his body relax, knowing it was temporary and that Brian would soon wake up. He picked up his sketch pad, drawing his lover as he slept peacefully.

When Brian woke up, it was dark outside. "You're still here? What time is it?"

Justin walked to the bed, picking up Brian's hand and placing it in his own. Giving the hand a squeeze, Justin bent down and kissed Brian on the cheek.

"Yeah, still here. Told you I wasn't going anywhere. It's about 9:00. I have to leave soon as visiting hours are almost over, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"Who the fuck said I wanted you here?" Brian croaked out.

Justin poured some water for Brian and he drank it quickly. "Don't you have better things to do then to sit in this stupid hospital all day?"

"You don't get to decide this time. I'm staying. And, no I don't have better things to do."

Brian took his hand back and sighed. "I'm hungry. Go get me something to eat."

Justin found the soda he placed in the tub earlier and opened it. "Drink this. They said you could have only a liquid diet today."

Brian took the soda and drank about half of it. "I'm going to get fat drinking this sugary crap."

Justin ignored the comment and began packing his art supplies. "Good night, Brian. I love you." He leaned over to touch his forehead to Brian's, but Brian leaned out of his way so Justin touched Brian's pillow instead. Sadly, Justin slung his messenger bag on his shoulder and walked out of Brian's room.