Chapter 8

                Aye, that is a kiss. A powerful thing.

                J.M. Barrie

Jennifer could hear Brian complaining even with the bathroom door closed. She could clearly imagine the difficulties the three of them were having, trying to get him clean while he tried to maintain his dignity. Every few seconds, she could hear Brian's voice rise in frustration or Emmett's turn sugary in effort to placate him.

She smiled to herself as she moved around the room. This was Brian's worst-case scenario, needing someone to help him. Which was why she had not waited for him to ask, because she knew he wouldn't, no matter how miserable he was. So, she just took care of it herself, and enlisted Emmett and Everett to do the job for her.

She ditched the ugly blanket and dirty linens, then made the bed with brand new, washed, Egyptian cotton sheets in black, and topped it with a navy spread. She wanted him to be as comfortable as possible while she said her peace.

There was a small ruckus in the bathroom, followed by an aggravated growl, just before Brian stumbled from the bathroom and lurched for the bed. Jennifer gripped him around his waist, to keep him from falling, realizing too late, he was completely naked and dripping.

Not, that she hadn't seen it all before. Somehow, in this setting, his arm and shoulder bound, made it seem like a violation...of him. Settling him on the side of the bed, she went to the duffle and pulled out his bathrobe, keeping her eyes on the unruly mop of brown hair, she helped him shrug into it before he got comfortable in the bed.

Everett and Emmett stared silently from the bathroom door as she kissed his forehead and he squeezed her hand. The tenderness of the moment held them in place as their soaked clothes dripped all over the floor. It surprised them both when Jennifer retrieved a bottle of very expensive lotion, sat down next to Brian, and told them both to get lost without batting an eye in their direction.

After they were gone, she quickly fixed the mess in the bathroom, and decided to approach the subject directly. Brian didn't care for prevarication, so she would give him none. She sat on the bed again and poured the lotion in her hand then rubbed it into the skin of his good arm, as far up as she could reach, massaging the muscles in the process. Brian closed his eyes, sighing in contentment, leaning back into the new pillows. Jennifer drew breath to speak as Brian turned his head to look out the window, and cut her off.

"I didn't send him away because I don't care about him." His words were quiet, almost a whisper. Jennifer held her tongue, knowing Brian rarely talked about his feelings, and truly wanting to hear what he was willing to share with her. She finished with his arm, and pulling back the covers, started taking care of his right leg.

"I sent him away...because" he cleared his throat, "because I'm sick."

Jennifer's eyes shot to his face, assuming the worst. He gave her a self-deprecating look and tapped a finger to his temple. "Here." The admission was jagged, sharp, inflicting a pain all its own.

She bowed her head and focused on his leg, trying to convey understanding, but unwilling to give it a voice that would have him closing up again.

He turned back to the window, because looking at her while he talked, made it too much to handle. He focused on her hands and the curious, but supportive feelings she had no way to hide from him, wrapping them around himself and hoping for the best.

"I have never been professionally diagnosed, I fucking hate shrinks, but... with the availability of the internet, and some research books, I am fairly confident that I have neither moderate, nor severe PTSD, but somewhere in between. I have, very long, stretches of time, without incident, then debilitating nightmares, as you have seen. I don't always remember them, and sometimes I can be extremely violent. I'm sure you already figured that out. Probably before I did, given Justin's history."

She nodded, moving to the other side of the bed to work on his other leg.

"My father was an abusive drunk. My mother was a frigid bitch." There was no emotion anywhere in that statement.

She paused briefly in her massage, as something pinched her heart, resuming quickly, hoping he didn't notice her hesitation.

"It's all right. No need to worry yourself about it. It's been over for a long time." He faced her then, though she was focused on his leg and did not notice.

"I removed myself, from their care. But not without...damage". She saw him tap his temple again from the corner of her eye. "I have, I mean had, ways of handling the worst aspects of the disease. But...it has steadily gotten worse. Beyond my means to...I can't..." He swallowed, unable to finish.

Jennifer covered his legs and poured a little bit more lotion in her hands then rubbed them together as she sat at his hip. She reached out with both hands, for his face, stopping midway when he flinched, then proceeding very slowly when he got himself under control, and met her gaze.

Slowly, she ran her thumbs over his brow, smoothing the lines, then using her fingertips to rub his temples. A tear slipped from his lashes, but she pretended not to see. Her palms gently caressed his cheeks as his eyes closed and the tears fell in earnest. Silent tears of a person afraid to admit to needing comfort. It broke her heart in a way nothing else could have.

Jennifer understood so much about him in that moment. Why he did the things he did, and why it had been so hard for him to allow Justin a part in his life. He knew it would come to this and didn't want Justin to witness it. He was so used to being alone. He almost always had people around him, but he was still alone. He had never let anyone close. Until Justin. That was the crux of the problem. He didn't want Justin to think he was damaged, unlovable. Being an asshole, a jerk, a loser, would be preferable. He could not trust Justin with the truth and bear to see the rejection he was sure would result. Better to send him away, and handle it alone.

Jennifer knew what she had to do. Knew it would hurt everyone involved. As a mother, she had had lessons in tough love, and it never got easier. She knew she was right, and when they all looked back on it, she hoped they would understand and forgive her.

"Brian?"

Desperate, hazel eyes, met hers from the frame of her hands still on his cheeks.

"Brian, you have been handling this, pretty well, and for a long time, but you have never dealt with it."

He tried to pull away, but she held his face in a firm grip, leaning her forehead to his in a gesture she hoped he recognized.

"Listen to me. Are you listening?" Her voice was laced with demand, but gentle in delivery.

Brian's mouth pulled to the side, a hint of a smile.

"I think you were right to send him away. I think you are right to go away when you are healed to get the care you need. But not for the reasons you think. I know you love him...desperately. And I think... I think you don't know if you will still love him if you get better," She tapped a finger on his temple. "or if you need him because you're sick, or vice versa. I think, that you think, you will be a different person if you get help, and you are scared he won't love you anymore. You are afraid you won't love yourself anymore. It's your fucking pride, Brian.

I promise I will help you in any way I can, and if I have to break my son's heart so you can get the help you need, then I will do it. Without question. Because you..." her tears were falling now too, because she meant every word. "Because you, Brian, are just as important to me as he is."

He lurched up, wrapping his good arm around her back, holding tightly, as he buried his face in her neck. She encircled his shoulders, hugging him back for all she was worth, rocking slightly until he pulled away, embarrassed by his emotions.

Leaving it in the past, she retrieved his hairbrush, used it to tame his hair, and stood by the window before turning to him with a dramatic sigh. "So, any ideas how we're going to get him to let you go?"

Brian gave her a real grin this time, and she shook her head, holding out her hands to stop his words, "Something besides pushing him off a cliff?" Brian's grin disappeared.

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Justin was getting out of the car in front of the apartment building when someone called his name. Noah waved at him to get his attention then signaled the driver to move along.

"I didn't expect you to be here," Justin shook his hand, "everything all right?"

"Not really Mr. Taylor. There has been an accident and I have been instructed to take you to the hospital." Noah opened the door for him, letting him in the car, then took the driver's seat.

"What happened?" Justin could not keep the tremor from his voice and sought out Noah's face in the rearview mirror.

"Mr. Kinney had an accident last night that resulted in some injuries requiring hospitalization."

"He get drunk and fall down the stairs?" Justin went from scared to sarcastic in an instant, once he knew no one was critical.

"Uh, not exactly, someone will explain it when we get there." Noah's tone said that there was more to it and Justin was once again, left wondering if it was cancer.

His stomach sank, sorry for his sarcastic remark. He put the time on the drive to better use, trying to figure out a way to get Brian to let him help.

Noah stopped in front of the doors to the hospital and gave Justin the room number for Brian's suite. He then called Everett to let him know that Justin was on his way up. Everett told him to go home and get some rest. As he pulled away from the curb, he wondered if Everett was going to take his own advice.

Probably not in the near future.

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Justin stood with a small group of people waiting for the elevator. The elderly couple to his right, were carrying gift bags and a large bouquet of flowers talking about the weird name their daughter had just given their first grandson. They shook their heads forlornly trying to come up with a suitable nickname.

On his left were three nurses, obviously coming back from the cafeteria, holding Styrofoam containers. Two of them were fairly young, with the third in her mid to late thirties.

The young brunette was giggling, "Hey, did you guys see who came in last night?"

The older woman did her best to ignore them, but Justin could see she was listening anyway. The other girl shook her head and leaned closer.

The first said, "Brian. Fucking. Kinney! Can you believe it?"

"No way! Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'm standing here." She crowed, delighted she knew something her friend did not.

The older nurse led the way as the elevator doors opened and Justin followed them in. The two girls ended up in the back with him and the older woman in front.

"I'll tell you something else, he came on Medivac and taken straight to the OR. I found out from one of the nurses there, that his heart stopped."

"OMG!" said the second girl. "Tell me he's okay though, right?"

"Oh, he's fine now, got all the people on the eighth floor running in circles doing his bidding."

The second girl again, "He can stop my heart any time, he's so fucking hot!"

Both of them giggling this time, and the older woman speared them both with a look that could curdle milk, so they stopped talking.

It was just as well since the doors opened on the eighth floor and Justin exited, only to run smack into Everett as he tried to catch it. The doors closed and Everett swore, hitting the down button again, before he turned to Justin.

"He's in room 8001 at the end of the hall. The doctor just gave him some painkillers about twenty minutes ago, so I can't promise he is still awake. Even if he is, he's not likely to make any sense if he tries to talk. Marc is on duty, he hasn't slept all night, so don't cross him. I'm leaving to get dry clothes and take care of some stuff, but I'll be back later. You have my number."

Justin had not managed to get a word in edgewise, which he was sure was Everett's intent. So he walked down the hallway and saw Marc stand up from his seat as he approached. Not wanting to be waylaid again, he headed him off.

"I won't do anything to piss you off. I just want to see him."

Marc correctly read the stubborn stance and crossed arms of someone on the last of their nerves, and opened the door for him.

Justin nodded his thanks, hesitated on the threshold, unsure of what he would find. He stood up straighter, ran his sweaty palms over his thighs and stepped through the door.

The first thing he saw was his mother's back as she sat on the bed.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

Jennifer stood up and engulfed him in a hug.

"Hey, Sweetheart. I thought you were going to call me when you got here."

"I didn't know you were here, how long have you been here?"

Jennifer let him go, and turned to Brian who nodded. She smiled at Justin and left the room, making sure the door closed behind her.

Justin went to Brian and sat on the bed.

"I'm so pissed at you right now." There was no inflection, no hint of hidden feelings.

It didn't matter.

Brian read him instantly. The fear, the rejection, the betrayal. But he read the love too, under all the other.

He pulled his lips in, afraid to say anything that would make Justin want to leave. As much as he knew Justin would have to leave, he wanted him here for now. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help it. He opened his good arm and Justin immediately crawled into the bed to lie down next to him, head on Brian's chest, wrapped in Brian's warmth.

With his head tucked under Brian's chin, he spoke, as Brian twirled a bit of his hair.

"It's the cancer, isn't it. Its back again. That's why you pushed me away."

Brian's hand stilled, cupping the back of Justin's head.

"No."

Justin tried to lift his head to see Brian's face, but Brian held him down gently, went back to playing with his hair.

"Then... why?" Justin was clearly trying to keep his emotions under control, to gain the answers he needed.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." Before Justin could protest, he added, "I promise we will talk. But right now I just want this."

Justin settled. He would have to wait, but Brian had given him a promise. Something he never did unless he knew he could keep it. They lay that way, silent, until Brian drifted on the edges of sleep.

Justin got up to use the restroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when Brian mumbled, "Don't let 'em...turn off...the lights...I'm afraid...of...the..."

Justin stared in shock at his sleeping lover.

Brian? Afraid?

What. The. Fuck!

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Justin closed Brian's door and stomped to the waiting room with all the fury of a tornado whistling though dry fields. His mother and Emmett were having a quiet discussion involving a lot of hand waving and shaking heads.

"Where is she?" He demanded.

When they gave him twin perplexed looks he clarified, "Cynthia. She's gotta be around here somewhere. She watches over him like he's a pile of gold in a room full of Nazis."

Jennifer didn't know and shrugged but Emmett said, "Last I heard, Sweetie, she was going to the cafeteria for coffee."

Justin turned on his heel and went back to the elevators. Thankfully he was alone for the ride. He stepped out, looked for a sign that would point him in the right direction, then headed down a long hallway. Another sign pointed left. As he rounded the corner, he saw Everett, in dry clothes, with his hands on Cynthia's shoulders, pressing her into the wall. They were obviously having a very heated, private conversation, but Justin didn't care as he stalked up to them, demanding answers.

"What the fuck is going on, and why the hell is Brian scared?"

They turned to him at the same time, Everett dropping his hands, as they both blushed at being caught in an argument. Justin didn't give a shit what they had going on between them, his only concern was Brian.

"Need I repeat myself?" He was channeling Brian, and they knew it.

"Now listen here, you little..."

"Everett, he needs to hear this, regardless of how infantile he's acting right now." Cynthia laid a calming hand on Everett's arm causing him to jerk it away. Cynthia ignored him, gesturing for the two of them to follow her. She led them to a grieving room she had found in her wanderings while Brian was unconscious, then she and Everett gave Justin the whole story of how Brian had come to be in the hospital.

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Justin had been roaming the hallways since he had told Cynthia and Everett where to get off for not calling him immediately, when Brian was hurt. They had excused it by saying everything had gone too fast, but he didn't buy it. Not one bit. He figured they thought he couldn't handle it. Like he was still a fucking kid, and hadn't had a relationship with Brian for the last seven years. No one knew Brian like he did. Fuck 'em all, if they thought he was going to sit on the sidelines while Brian ran everybody around. Especially now that he was in danger. The sons of bitches were trying to kill him and Justin didn't even get a phone call. Granted, he had made a big scene out of leaving him, but everyone knew they always got back together.

His cell rang and he answered without checking who it was.

"Hello?"

"Justin, are you coming back?" It was his mother.

"Don't know why I should, everyone seems to think I'm unnecessary."

Jennifer was not surprised her son was angry, only that he had taken so long for him to gain a head of steam.

"Justin, it was my decision not to call you."

He hung up on her and ran back to the waiting room.

"What the fuck do you mean it was your decision?"

"I am Brian's Medical Power of Attorney. If he is unable..."

"I know what the fuck it means! Why you?" Justin was losing his anger and sliding towards hurt.

Jennifer kept her voice calm. "Because he trusts me to do the right thing."

"How long?"

"I really don't think that is relevant."

"Don't give me that shit, Mom. Of course it's relevant."

"That may be so, to you, but it was Brian's decision and not my place to speak of it."

Three sharp tones came over the PA system followed by "respond to 8001", then it repeated.

Their faces were mirrors of concern as they hustled to Brian's room.

They heard the crashing and swearing before they were halfway there. An orderly came falling out of the door with a bloody nose and a nurse crying on his heels. Justin had heard Brian in a rage before, but this was a whole new level for him. Jennifer tried to hold Justin back, but he shook her off and entered the room.

"...do you hear me, motherfucker?! You don't ever get to touch me again! You come near me I'll rip your fucking balls off and fucking choke you with 'em."

Justin stared at the remaining nurses and the doctor holding a syringe. Brian's bad arm hung limp at his side, the soft cast hanging open, ineffective. As Brian shouted obscenities and paced the room, the bad arm swung with his momentum and a grimace contorted his face.

Justin wasn't sure what to do, but whatever the medical people had been trying was obviously not working. He took a shot in the dark.

"Hey! Asshole!" Justin shouted and Brian stopped yelling but continued to pace.

"You heard me, fucker!" All movement stopped.

Justin waved the medical people out of the room. The doctor was reluctant to go, but did so anyway. Jennifer stopped him outside the door and talked him in to waiting with her.

Together they watched Justin walk to Brian and whisper to him, without touching him. Brian leaned closer so he could hear and Justin took the opportunity to lay his hand on Brian's bad arm causing him to suck a breath between his teeth and wince in pain. Justin just kept talking. They could not hear the words, but the tone was soothing, sometimes teasing. For twenty minutes, Brian stood completely still, with his ear next to Justin's mouth, his eyes seeing nothing.

Justin waved the doctor back in, continuing to speak as he held Brian's face next to his, so he could not see what the doctor was doing. He gave Brian the shot, then swiftly rebound his arm and shoulder. He gave Justin a nod of approval before he went back to wait with Jennifer.

Justin slipped an arm around Brian's waist, leading him to the bed and helping him remove the bathrobe before climbing in with him. The doctor opened his mouth to say something, but Justin's look promised retribution if he dared and Jennifer's was equally deadly.

Justin just kept talking. Nonsense stuff. But he arranged himself their usual way, until he was comfortable that Brian was in an untroubled sleep. He lingered for longer than necessary, rubbing a palm over Brian's chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing.

It was when he began lightly snoring, that Justin removed himself from Brian's embrace, turned on the bedside lamp, extinguished the overhead, and dragged his audience to the waiting room.

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Michael ran from the back room of store to pick up the ringing phone.

"Michael, it's Lindsay. I'm sorry to bother you at work, but I was hoping you had talked to Brian today?"

"Sorry Linds, I haven't heard from him in a few days. I tried calling him this morning, but keep getting his voicemail. I even tried his office. No luck."

"Oh. I tried Cynthia, then Ted, and I can't get anyone to answer. Do you think everything is all right?"

"I think, we're a couple of worry-warts. From what I saw of the show last night, it would not surprise me to find out they are all sleeping off the celebration." Michael joked.

"You're probably right. I just wanted to let Brian know he now has the responsibility of a magic show, the next time he's here."

"The kids really liked his performance, huh?"

"I'll send you a copy of the video, and the resulting meltdown. It will seem as if you were here." Lindsay teased.

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"What? Are you sure?" Carl asked in disbelief. He was on his cell phone as he cleared his desk. It was nearing time to go home.

On the other end of the line, Everett gave him all the information he had about the two attempts on Brian's life, and the contact information for the officers in charge of the investigation in New York.

"I know you don't have any kind of jurisdiction here, but I thought maybe you could reach out, offer to help, or just see if they would share information with you. I did the same, but since Brian and I are business partners, it is unlikely they will share with me, as I am a potential suspect."

"I see your point," Carl's gruff voice was low "I'll reach out, find out what I can, but this stays between us."

Everett agreed before hanging up and Carl slid down to his chair.

He had a feeling he would not be turning in retirement papers any time soon.

The hardest part was going to be figuring out a way to tell Debbie, without telling her about Brian.

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Aaron Jacobson juggled half a dozen, aluminum take out pans covered with foil and his briefcase as he followed Cynthia's directions to the waiting room on the eighth floor. She saw him coming and invited her companions to accompany her to the grieving room she had used earlier.

Ted had returned a few minutes before and Justin had just come out of Brian's room to tell them he was sleeping and he wanted to talk. The grieving room seemed to be the only place in the hospital able to afford the privacy their group would need, so they arranged themselves around the room, trying to make the best of the mildly uncomfortable furniture.

Everett took the lone upholstered chair off to the side, tilted his head to his chest, and dozed while the rest of them ate the food A.J. had provided. He opened his briefcase, retrieving a thick manila envelope and handed it to Cynthia before offering his good wishes and leaving.

The rest of the meal proceeded in silence as everyone did their best to deal with why they were there. Justin noted that the levels of distress were varied.

Everett slept, seemingly unconcerned for the moment, and Cynthia reviewed whatever documents her assistant had delivered, her movements tight and her face impassive.

Ted, now that Brian seemed to be on the mend and not yet having witnessed one of Brian's episodes, appeared to be in good spirits, now that all was right in his world. Brian would live to rule the kingdom once again.

Emmett was unusually quiet, even when Ted made a crack about the latest celebrity scandal. Justin would even go so far as to say he was sad. Not depressed, just very sad.

His mother was a little harder to read though. She made small attempts to draw the others into conversation, but kept it light, eventually falling to silence when it became stilted and awkward.

Justin had had enough. He had waited long enough. He stood up, to begin his questioning, all eyes turning to him. Except Cynthia's. She merely held up a hand to stop him as she finished with her papers. Sliding them back into the envelope, she said "Sit down." It was not a request and Justin bristled at her tone. She saw it, lost patience with him and continued, "Look, you and I, we can get into a pissing contest if you want, but I can assure you, I will win. You say you want answers and I am the one that will most likely be able to provide them. I will not, however, bow to your demands, or respond to childish behavior. I have known you for a while now, and I know how much Brian cares about you, so I am willing to overlook some things because you are stressed and feel as if we left you out. I get it. But that was Brian's decision and you will have to take it up with him."

Justin slumped, boneless, to his seat. The angry wind sucked from his sails of righteous indignation.

Cynthia took that as an acceptance of her role there and began to speak.

"It goes without saying, that everything said, mentioned, alluded to, or conclusions drawn after the fact, in this room, stays confidential. Those of us here, are here because of our relationships, on whatever level, with Brian. Some of us have personal or business relationships with him and some of us have both. We all care about him and want what is best for him. I have watched all of you, as well as those not present, interact with him over the years, and I am here to tell you that there is not a single one of you that knows him as well as I do."

Justin glanced at the others. Everett had not moved a muscle, but Justin sensed him tense up. He was listening, not sleeping. Ted was paying attention, a concerned look on his face, while his mother and Emmett shared a look he could not decipher.

"I have known Brian since I was four years old, which goes beyond what anyone else can claim, and gives me a perspective on him that no one else will understand. Suffice it to say, that everything I do for him or by his request, is because I love him and owe him a debt I will never be able to repay, the same as everyone else in this room."

She made eye contact with everyone but Everett, causing some discomfort. It was obvious she knew more about their lives than they had previously thought or were comfortable with.

"For those of you that haven't figured it out yet, Brian has PTSD. It presents for many different reasons and the symptoms vary from person to person as does the severity. For some people, counseling works and the patient moves on with their life. In many cases the symptoms take years to present and the cause is more difficult to pinpoint. Again, counseling or therapy helps. Brian has only recently" she looked at Justin, "begun to admit he might have a problem. As we all know, this was a difficult admission for him. But, true to form, once admitted, he wanted to do something about it. He was taking steps to do that." She sipped her coffee.

"Unfortunately, last night's events, and his subsequent injuries, take precedence for him. However selfish it may seem to you, Brian made choices he felt were in our best interest. I intend to honor those choices as most of them are in his best interest as well, and the rest I will take up with him. What I need from everyone in this room is a promise, a promise to follow my lead, without question or argument, before we continue even though you may never have all the answers or explanations you want or feel entitled to."

Heads nodded around the room.

"Good. First, he must never know of this or subsequent conversations we have on these matters. If you can't do that, you need to leave now."

Everyone stayed seated. "There will be no more demands of his time or affections by anyone here or, God forbid, those that are not here. He is barely holding on, as you have seen, and I suspect that the PTSD may be the least of his instability right now. He has been distancing himself from the company, in small ways, for some time. I don't know why, and it bothers me because I haven't managed to find the reason for it.

Ted, I am going to send you and Jacobson, back to Pittsburgh. I need to know, and so does Brian, that the office there is in hands we can trust. I also need you to run interference with friends and family there. I will let you know, after I talk to Brian again, what you can divulge about his circumstances and what needs to be kept to ourselves. Can you do that?"

Ted thought about Michael and Debbie and hesitated. It was a big request, but he agreed.

Cynthia nodded "You will need to make arrangements immediately". She pointed to the door.

"Right now?" Ted asked, incredulous. She just stared at him, her face impassive.

Ted suddenly realized it was a test. She was testing him to see if he would follow her orders without question or explanation. To see if he would give up whatever information might be gleaned from the conversation after he left.

"I see. I'll get right on it."

"Thank you, Ted."

Once he left, Everett sat up. Justin surmised, that whatever was coming, would involve Brian's security, and he noticed the dirty look Cynthia sent Everett's direction.

"Mr. Ryker and I have differing opinions of how to proceed with Brian's safekeeping since last night. He wants more people on him while his arm heals, and I think that could cause more problems. Any thoughts on the matter?"

The question hung in the air but it was Jennifer that broke the silence.

"I don't know how much you all know about this disease, and I am unaware of Brian's other issues, but I think, at this point, if you surround him with people, even with his safety in mind, it could cause further damage. After Justin was hurt, I wanted to keep him close, protected, but it made it worse. Instead of making Brian feel safe, I think he will feel weak...helpless. I don't think that is the right move to make...for his mental state, which I think is what your concern is."

Cynthia nodded her agreement looking pointedly at Everett.

"I think my mom is right. He is going to need help while his bones heal and that is going to be a tough sell in itself. If you put guard dogs on him around the clock he will go ballistic." Justin could imagine what that would be like.

Since Cynthia had already mentioned it, he changed the subject. "I know what you mean about the distancing. He's been doing it with me, in small ways as well, for several months. I would like to get together with you, after he comes home, and see if we can come to a reasonable conclusion."

"I can do that." She replied, glad to see he was willing to work with her.

Justin glanced at his watch, realizing it had been an hour and a half since he left Brian.

"I am going to go check on him, if you don't need me for anything else."

Cynthia followed him to the hallway where they could have some privacy.

"You asked a question earlier and I didn't give you an answer."

Justin looked confused.

"You asked me why he is scared. I have never known him to be scared of anything. In fact, all evidence points to the contrary."

Justin opened his mouth to argue that he had heard Brian say it, but she stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

"But I have known him to be afraid of two things."

"Scared, afraid, what's the difference?"

Cynthia shook her head, not sure now if she wanted to reveal something so private, to someone so obtuse. Justin, wanting his answer, gave her an apologetic look.

"It goes against my better judgement to tell you, but... he's afraid of complete darkness."

Somehow that did not seem a big revelation to Justin, as Brian always had some kind of light on at night and Justin had followed suit when he moved in without even noticing. It just always was and didn't seem to be a real issue.

"And the second?" He asked.

"You will have to figure that one out for yourself, since you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

With those cryptic words, she let herself back into the room, and Justin went to check on Brian.

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Everett had moved closer to the other occupants of the room by the time Cynthia returned. Everyone was quiet, obviously waiting for her to take the lead.

"Mr. Ryker, any headway on a location for him to 'recuperate'".

Everett shook his head. "He said he wants to go somewhere warm, which is fine, I have contacts all over, but there is a problem. All of those contacts lead back to me. We need a place to hole up, that no one would think to look. For that, I am going to have to dig around, then we are going to have to get creative with the money so the back trail is hidden. For that we need time we don't have."

"I know a place." Emmett whispered, then cleared his throat. Everyone turned to him.

"Brian won't like it, but it's safe, hidden, and won't cost a dime. I will need a few days to make arrangements, but all in all, I should have everything ready for us when we get there." He made his way to the door as he pulled out a pen, and small pad of paper.

"WE?", said Cynthia and Everett at the same time.

Emmett gave them a sad smile. "It may surprise you, but yes, we. You're stuck with me now and so is he."