Chapter 10

                Don't you understand Tink? You mean more to me than anything in this whole     world.

                J.M. Barrie

Brian's quiet yet forceful ejection of them from his room left Everett at a loss as to what really happened. Engaging him in a shouting free for all should have diffused the situation, and it had, but the results were not what he had been expecting. Brian should have returned to himself or fallen over exhausted. The defeated, sad, and vulnerable man left in the bed was the last thing that should have resulted, and Everett was less than pleased. Brian needed help, more help than Everett was capable of giving. Shit!

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They were all sitting around the waiting room several hours later when a frazzled man in a lab coat and carrying files, approached their group asking shyly for Jennifer Taylor.

She stood up, immediately followed by Justin, Everett, and Cynthia. He gave her a questioning look to which she responded, "Brian would want them to know."

"I am Dr. Anders, the Head of Emergency Services here, and I would like you to accompany me to speak to Brian, then if he wants you to share, you can. But I have to have his express permission first."

Emotions around the room ran the full spectrum, from mild humor to terror. No one was sure if Brian could handle any more bad news, and absolutely no one wanted to deal with the fall out that might ensue if it was indeed more bad news.

Dr. Anders picked up on the feelings instantly and did his best to diffuse the worst of the emotions by smiling and reassuring them that there was nothing to worry about.

Jennifer squeezed Justin's hand in support, then followed the dark skinned man into Brian's room. She had expected him to be sleeping, but was not surprised to find him watching the news. He did not even look their way, eyes fixed on the screen mounted on the wall opposite of his bed. His face was passive, but his jaw clenched and fury rolled off him in waves. Dr. Anders took an unconscious step backwards, nearly colliding with Jennifer, when Brian turned to see who had invaded his privacy.

Switching off the television, he said "Jennifer, please tell Cynthia and Everett that the game is up. I am on the news, and not in a good way." Jennifer ducked back out to follow orders.

Dr. Anders cleared his throat and stuck out a hand in Brian's direction, introducing himself as it was shaken. Brian paused, thinking the man looked familiar and wondering if he had fucked the guy, then pushed that thought away as the good doctor was entirely too old to be a past trick, not to mention the fact that he was straight as an arrow. Still, the sense of déjà vu, stuck with him.

Dr. Anders took a seat near the bed, and having no way to introduce his topic of conversation, decided it was best to just spit it out and let the chips fall where they would.

"You may not remember, Mr. Kinney, but we have met before."

Brian's eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing.

"You were admitted several times, as a child, to the Catholic hospital I was working in for my residency."

Brian's face clouded over, but he remained silent. Dr. Anders wasn't sure if he should proceed, but Jennifer's return spurred him to continue. He handed Brian a dark brown folder at least two inches thick, but Brian did not open it.

"That is the file the hospital kept on you. I retrieved it to compare with your current file, to ascertain if you were the same Brian Kinney I treated some twenty five years ago. From the x-rays that were taken when you were admitted here I concluded that you were. Do you remember me at all?"

Brian ran his hand lightly over the folder, nodding once, but not looking at the other occupants of the room.

"I have to say Brian, that I am supremely surprised you are here. What I mean is... I never expected to find you... uh..." Dr. Anders gave an uncomfortable sigh, not knowing how to finish his statement.

"I think the word you are looking for is...alive." Brian's tone was completely caustic as he twisted the knife and let it hang in the room, relishing the discomfort it engendered.

Jennifer's hand covered her mouth but she refused to look away from him. Dr. Anders continued, still shaken, but resolved, "I was going to say whole, but alive works well enough I suppose." He raked a hand through his hair and decided to get to the point of his visit.

"I guess I came here for...closure, so to speak. After the first time you were brought in, you were about six if memory serves, I made sure the entire staff knew that I was to be contacted if you were ever brought in again. I made a point of being the one to treat you every time, even if they had to call me in on an off day."

Jennifer glanced again at the folder in Brian's lap. The edges worn and frayed from repeated use, as were the multitude of papers stacked within. Her brain knew what it meant, but her heart did not want to believe it. "Why you?" she asked.

Dr. Anders gave her a sad smile, "Because I knew he was being abused and I wanted to help. I foolishly thought that if I could get enough evidence I could get him free. When he was nine I ,even more foolishly, thought that by telling his parents what I was doing, they would stop. I guess they did, for a while, I didn't see him again for almost a year when a stranger brought him in. He was so broken, I was not sure he would live. He was hospitalized for a month, then I never saw him again."

 He stood and began pacing in frustration. "Back then, they didn't have child services like they have now. Evidence had to be overwhelming, or witnessed first-hand, and even that was no guarantee of intervention. I tried the cops, social workers, even the church. By the time I had badgered them enough to investigate, he was gone. His whole family moved to another city. No one knew where. I spent the next two years looking, hoping he would turn up, even if it was another visit to the hospital."

Brian's jaw clenched, he could think of a couple of people who knew, but they had been friends of Jack's so would have covered his ass if anyone had come to them looking for the Kinney family.

"I was devastated, never knowing what had happened, feeling guilty, wondering if you..." Dr. Anders cut himself off.

"You wondered if he had finally managed to kill me." Brian gave him a harsh smile that never reached his eyes.

Dr. Anders just nodded and stopped pacing to look at him squarely. "I came tonight, to tell you I'm sorry. Sorry for not doing better, being faster, not finding you, but mostly I am sorry for not making it stop."

Brian flinched and dropped his eyes to the folder again. "What makes you think it didn't?"

The second, newer folder, was placed on top of the old, as Dr. Anders said "Because I know it didn't."

Stormy moss green eyes met soft brown ones accompanied by a glimmer of a smile, "Sorry is bullshit, Doc. Besides, that which does not kill us only makes us stronger, right?"

Dr. Anders was engulfed by the memory of saying that exact quote to a ten year old Brian, trying to get him to want to live, the last time he had treated him. Pulling himself back to the present, he extended his hand again, and Brian took it, clasping it firmly and friendly, allowing his eyes to tell the doctor that he could let himself off the hook, there were no hard feelings on his part.

Dr. Anders nodded once, then told them he would be taking over Brian's care if there were no objections and left, the door swishing closed in the silence.

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 Melanie was furious. She did her best to hide it from the kids, but after snapping at them the fourth time at dinner, decided it would be best for everyone if she let them spend the night at a friend's house. Making the arrangements, however, proved difficult, as she had a particularly hard time keeping the animosity out of her voice. Thankfully, Janet figured it was just stress and offered to pick up Gus and Jenny.

Once the kids were gone, Melanie attacked the phone, trying first Lindsay's cell phone, then her office phone. Getting no answer at either, she finally opted to call Brian. Justin answered on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Justin? It's Melanie. I was trying to get a hold of Brian, can I talk to him?"

Justin hesitated, not sure if Brian would be capable of speaking to anyone in his current state.

"Uh, he's kinda busy Mel. Is there something I can do to help?"

Melanie really did not want to air their laundry, and certainly not on the phone, but Lindsay had not really left her with another option.

"It's just, uh, Lindsay said she had to go out of town for a couple of days, and it was last minute, so I didn't get to talk to her about it and I was wondering if Brian had heard from her or knew what was going on."

Justin's stomach sank. Lindsay was not known for taking off without a plan, and Justin was certain that if it really was business then Melanie would have been given the details. "Listen, Mel, I will give Brian the message and have him call you back, Okay?"

Melanie was less than pleased with that, but it was better than nothing, so she thanked him then let him off the phone. She slid limply into the couch and prayed her wife was not doing something stupid.

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 "But she said he asked her for a baby!" Michael was pushing his chicken satay around on his plate, oblivious to his husband's stare.

"So? I happen to think he is a good father, and very accommodating of the circumstances. Why shouldn't he want another baby?" Ben could not quite understand Michael's aversion to the idea.

"Why? Because he has never been a full-time parent, let alone a single parent. Besides, with all the hours he puts in with Kinnetik and all the screwing around, how is he going to raise it? He would have to hire help, then what would be the point?" Michael seemed to have put a lot of thought into it and Ben could not come up with a reasonable argument to disabuse him of any of his concerns.

"The only thing I can say is... it really is not our decision." Ben offered diplomatically.

"Not our...Jesus! Ben. It's a crazy idea and you know it!"

Ben could see that Michael was just getting started and settled in for the long haul. He knew any more comments or observations would be summarily tossed aside, and all Michael really wanted was a captive audience.

Still, something niggled at the back of his mind as he listened with only half an ear.

What had Lindsay been doing in Pittsburgh anyway?

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 Justin let himself into Brian's room after he saw the doctor leave, hoping to get a better idea of what was going on with him. Unfortunately, he was just in time to see Brian hand two folders to his mother and disappear into the bathroom.

Jennifer gave him a hesitant smile, stroked his cheek for a second and let herself out.

Shit!

He wasn't going to get any information from her at the moment, so he made up his mind to get Brian to talk to him. He had put it off, in consideration of the circumstances and the obvious emotional turmoil Brian was suffering. It would not be the first time he had picked a fight with Brian when he was vulnerable in order to get him to admit something out loud that he would not otherwise admit, even to himself.

So be it.

Justin braced the hard plastic chair under the handle of the exterior door, praying it would be enough to keep intruders out for the time it would take for the two of them to come to some kind of understanding.

Brian exited the bathroom and took notice of the blockaded door, immediately turning to Justin to question the need. It was unnecessary though, Brian could read the stubborn lines of his partner's body as easily as he could feel the confrontational vibe shimmering in the air around him.

You knew you weren't going to get out of this.

Yeah, just didn't want to do it here.

Coward, you were stalling.

Not stalling, just wanted to do this at home. Comfortable.

No help for it now, he's not going to let it go until you give him something.

Yeah, I know.

Brian took his time, arranging himself comfortably in the upholstered chair Justin had been sleeping in that morning, and pulled the lever so he ended up in a semi-reclining position before gesturing Justin into his lap where his lover curled up, head tucked under Brian's chin.

Over the years, this had become their default position for serious conversations and emotional admissions. It worked well for them, since Justin didn't have to worry too much about showing his emotional state, causing Brian to close up, and Brian didn't have to see (feel) the overwhelming emotions he was causing. A safe bubble, allowing closeness and comfort, while giving each of them the distance necessary to navigate the knotted threads of their relationship.

Brian immediately stuck his hand into Justin's hair, a gesture that soothed or inflamed both of them, depending on the situation. He pushed for soothing this time, knowing it was going to be difficult to discuss the issue at hand.

Brian started slow, keeping his voice low and even, trying his best not to scare his boy.

"I have PTSD".

Justin almost laughed at the absurdity. Of course he knew this. Had known it since his bashing. He drew circles on Brian's exposed chest while he waited for Brian to continue.

"Who told you?" Brian's tone hinted at betrayal, but Justin disabused him of that instantly. "One wolf recognizes the other, so they say."

Brian's hand stilled in Justin's hair as he thought about that, then resumed sliding the strands between his fingers.

"It's more than that, I think, but I'm not sure. I can't control my thoughts sometimes, and I have an even harder time controlling what I say."

Justin snorted in amusement, "Ya don't say..."

Brian tugged his hair in punishment and Justin kissed the skin on Brian's chest in apology.

"I don't mean it...I do, but I don't mean to hurt...people." Brian was nearing a whisper.

Justin played with the tie of Brian's bathrobe, letting it slip repeatedly through his hands.

"I don't like not being in control."

Justin snickered, not in a mean way, just that Brian felt it was not obvious and had to be stated. As if.

"I don't want to see a doctor for it, anywhere close to where our family and friends are."

Justin heard the fear underlying that statement and figured he had probably known that too, had he thought about it. Brian would not want an accidental meeting outside of a "head-shrinker's" office with anyone that might know him and spread the gossip around town, be that here or Pittsburgh, so he nodded, unwittingly sending tufts of hair up Brian's nose as he had chosen that moment to kiss the top of Justin's head, causing him to snarfle and rear his head back away from the offending strands.

Justin, concerned by the sound, sat up and caught Brian with his nose wrinkled in distaste and his lips pursed. Thinking something was seriously wrong, concern burning in his gaze, he said "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing."

Justin was unconvinced, and Brian, seeing the queen out coming a mile away, hastened to reassure his mate. "Just got some of your fucking hair up my nose." He did his best to keep his expression neutral as Justin searched his face for some glimmer of a lie. The moment dragged on, finally forcing Brian to nudge Justin back to his former position so he could finish this torment and get on with his life. Or what would be left of it.

Justin spoke first.

"Why didn't you tell me you picked my mom?" He asked it casually enough, but Brian was not a fool, and he had been with Justin long enough to hear the unasked question. Why didn't you pick me?

Sticking to the easier, verbal, question he replied "Because she would do what she had to do, even if she didn't like it."

Justin paused in his stroking of Brian's chest, hearing the silent answer, Because I couldn't burden you with that.

Justin's words were soft, "Like when she gave me to you?"

"mmm"

Justin knew Brian had pulled his lips into his mouth even though he couldn't see it.

"How long had you been planning this?" Justin was pretty sure of the answer to this one, but he needed to hear it anyway.

Brian took a deep breath, let it out, and briefly considered lying to him, before mentally shaking himself. Justin was the last person he would ever lie to. Prevaricate, omit, dance around the issue maybe, but never lie.

"About nine months." Brian held his breath, waiting for the explosive temper tantrum Justin was so good at. Hoping for it even, since it would serve to distract the younger man from the real issue, and Brian wouldn't have to say it.

"That's what I thought."

Brian, for once, didn't know what to say, given the lack of a bigger response. No biting comeback or pithy retort ready to combat the undeniable heaviness in his chest.

"Stop thinking so hard. You know I can read you almost as well as you read me. I am always shocked that you are so surprised by it."

Brian could feel Justin's grin against his neck, was infected by it really, and he let himself reciprocate it, tugging the blonde even closer. Justin let out a small sound of contentment that raced, inevitably to Brian's groin.

"I can't..."

"Hmmm" Justin nuzzled into Brian's neck, inhaling his scent, the one that would forever drive him crazy with need.

"...walk away..." Brian's head tilted back, eyes drifting shut, as Justin's licked a wide stripe from his collarbone to just behind his ear. Fucking tease. He doesn't want to hear it any more than I want to say it. Fuck that feels good. Need to be inside, mark him, as mine.

"...need you..." Justin straddled his hips, grinding their erections together, letting out those mindless, needy, breathy pants that drove him insane.

Brian knew he was on the brink of not being able to think at all, but still needing Justin to hear him out, so it could be over.

"...to walk away...let me go."

Justin stilled instantly, body quivering on the razor edge of lust and hurt.

Brian watched his feelings tumble over one another. The love, the pain, denial, love again, until it was just acceptance. Justin did the same, watching as Brian's eyes begged for understanding, showed him how much he was loved, and how much it hurt to have to ask.

Justin cradled Brian's head between his hands, absently brushing his hair back from his forehead before rubbing their noses together and kissing him deeply. Brian clasped the smaller body to him, wishing he had the use of both arms. Tongues tangling in wet heat, as Justin ground himself against the slim hips beneath him, both of them frustrated with the amount of clothes separating them. Justin bit into Brian's lower lip before he shoved himself off Brian's lap and pulled him to a standing position, claiming his mouth again and backing him toward the bed.

Brian fisted his hand in Justin's shirt, pushing him away, then pulling him back in until sapphire eyes met his. "I need.."

Justin covered his mouth with little kisses, trailing them over his jaw, "I know..." sucking an earlobe into his mouth and releasing it with a wet pop. "I will." Justin's lips never left Brian's skin as he removed the bathrobe and shucked his own clothes. Taking Brian's face between his hands again, forcing him to look at him and see the love he felt.

"But not today."

The words echoed in Brian's head, and relief filled him to bursting. The anxiety he had carried, waiting for this moment of revelation, dissipated in the onslaught of the love he could see in Justin's eyes and read in every motion of his lover's body as he was caressed and stroked by slim, warm hands.

Brian still needed to clarify, for Justin, before he would allow himself to give in to what was so eagerly offered. Taking Justin's chin and tipping the shorter man's head back so he could see clearly he said, "No locks."

Justin blinked, he understood Brian was giving him freedom, and he whispered "but not today."

Skin pressed to skin, as mouth pressed to mouth, and they eased back onto the bed. Justin straddled Brian's hips as he had in the chair, knowing Brian's broken bones put him in a position of inability.

Justin leaned forward, rubbing their cocks together and using his tongue to fuck Brian's mouth, making him moan and swallow convulsively. Brian ran his hand along the side of Justin's face, stopping as he neared his jaw and slipping the thumb into the wet heat of his mouth, tugging on the lower teeth until his mouth was wide open baring the thick appendage for Brian's questing eyes. Justin used it to lave Brian's thumb, circling the tip with the point then swirling with the flat, soaking it with spit, all the while watching Brian watch his tongue. Hazel gave way to the ever widening black of pupils blown with lust. Justin closed his lips, capturing the thumb and sucking on it as hard as he could, adding pressure with his teeth, just enough to sting.

Brian drew in a shaky breath, eyes closing as Justin sucked greedily, quickening the pace of his hips to match. Justin watched as Brian arched beneath him, trying to gain the leverage he wanted and not finding it. Brian let out a growling moan that never ceased to inflame. Justin could get off just listening to it. Knowing they could be interrupted at any time, spurred him to use both hands, laced together, to grip their leaking cocks and squeeze them together, stroking them as if they were one big dick. Brian squirmed in delight and replaced his thumb with three fingers, pressing the wet thumb under Justin's chin, forcing him to bite harder on the fingers in his mouth. Justin mewled, panting, as his stroking became more erratic and their balls slapped against each other. He knew Brian was close by the way he grunted and his abdominal muscles clenched. Justin's testicles drew up as Brian's neck and chest flushed red and his hips bucked with abandon.

"Fuck, Sunshine!"

Brian gripped the hands on his cock and squeezed as hard as he could while thrusting as wildly as his injuries would allow. Justin threw back his head, fucking their joined hands as Brian did the same, yelling out their mutual release as thick ropes of cum fountained from their hands to spread and drip from sweat covered torsos.

Justin slumped forward, unable to stay upright any longer. Chests heaving, sticky hands caressing, he finally slid to the side, a boneless heap, not caring that he smeared cum the whole way. Brian snickered as Justin almost immediately began to snore.

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 Emmett's phone rang. He glanced at the name of the caller and excused himself from the group before answering. Making his way to the window at the end of the hall past Brian's room, he took the call.

"Hey, thanks for calling me back." He paused, listening.

"No, sweetie, I'm fine. Really, I just, uhm, need a favor. For a friend? He's in really bad shape. I was hoping you still had the lodge?" He paused again, as the caller spoke, his stomach in knots.

"I'm not sure for how long, but I'll send you some money and a list, if you could take care of stocking it, for maybe a month?"

Another pause, this one longer than the others, causing him to cross his arms and slide down the wall.

"Yeah, I'm coming too."

"I know."

"I have to."

"No, don't tell them anything."

Emmett dragged in a wet breath, hoping he could keep the tears at bay until the call was over.

"Then I will cross that bridge when I have to. Hopefully it won't come to that."

He squeezed his eyes closed, but the tears leaked out anyway.

"I know. Thanks. I love you too."

Emmett ended the call, hugged his legs to his chest and let the tears fall in earnest.

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 I'm standing here in front of Mercy Hospital, where an anonymous source has indicated that Brian Kinney, owner of Kinnetik Korp., is fighting for his life after a tragic accident aboard the Crown Princess during his annual fundraiser for the homeless.

It is unknown at this time, the nature of the accident, only that Mr. Kinney arrived in a MediVac helicopter, very early Sunday morning. He was not breathing and at some point his heart stopped beating. It is unclear if there will be any lasting damage and there have been no statements from a representative of Kinnetik Korp.

We will do our best to keep you updated on this breaking news, this is Carrie Beldon, channel eight news.

Cynthia used the remote to turn the television off, then threw it at the wall, breaking the plastic casing.

Emmett was glad to see her finally lose her temper, and casually stepped in front of Everett as he tried to get near her. Cynthia turned, took in the two men, and strode down the hallway, disappearing around the corner.

"What the fuck, Emmett?" Everett tried to step around him again and Emmett put a hand in his chest to forestall him.

"Answer me one question, dearie. Do you think she is anything like Brian?"

Everett took his time thinking about it, and sank into the nearest chair, scratching at the stubble on his face, defeated. Emmett sat next to him and gave a few commiserating pats on his back.

Jennifer watched as Lara and Marc texted furiously, eyeing the now suspect hospital workers the whole time.

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 Sam and Bobby watched the newscast from their desks at the precinct. When it was over, neither spoke as they gathered their weapons and made their way out of the building. Sam went straight for her personal car, rather than the police cruiser, and Bobby slid into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life. Neither was looking forward to another visit with Mr. Kinney, but now that the cat was out of the bag, they had no other choice.

 It was looking to be another all-nighter.

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 Jennifer sat alone on the wide window ledge at the end of Brian's hallway. She was reluctant to open the folders he had given her. She had a very good idea of what they would contain. She also knew, once read, they could never be unread. The information they contained would forever be a part of her. She didn't know how it could affect her relationship with Brian, only that it would. She was sure she would want to coddle him, pity him, feel sorry for him. All the things he hated most and avoided like the plague.

How can I get him the care he needs without knowing?

That was the million dollar question.

The answer was simple enough.

I can't.

She would just have to make sure she never let the knowledge show. By giving her the folders, he had given her his trust. Trusting her to protect the child he had been and the man he had become. Trusted her to give, or keep, the information from her son. Trusting her with the truth of the real person behind the many masks he wore. Trusting her to have the courage to bear the burden with him and not falter under the weight.

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Lindsay was on the highway, at the outskirts New York City, when she heard the announcement on the radio. She pulled to the shoulder and flipped on the hazard lights as she impatiently waited for the news to repeat thirty minutes later. Noting the name of the hospital, she programmed it into the navigational device suction-cupped to the dash, and pulled back onto the highway.

She ignored the ringing phone in the console.

Michael was on the phone the instant after the reporter said Brian's name. His call went straight to voicemail, his own phone signaling an incoming call, before he finished leaving a message. Ben thought that his husband was the only person he knew that could sound completely furious and scared to death at the same time.

Michael switched to the new call, expecting it to be his mother, and was not disappointed. There followed a conversation of raised voices and increasing alarm as they fed off each other's fear, and surmising worst case scenarios.

Ben laid his hands on Michael's shoulders in an effort to get him to calm down, but Michael shrugged him off and moved into the kitchen, entirely focused on his terrified rant.

Michael didn't even notice when Ben went to bed without him.

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 Carl knew the shit had hit the fan, when he checked his phone and had a dozen missed calls in the last two hours. Fully half were from Debbie, a few from Michael, and one from Melanie. The last to come in was from Everett Ryker.

Whether he was stalling or not, could be debated, but he called Ryker back first, telling himself it was better to have all the facts before going home.