When Justin woke next he was shocked to find his room dark.  Even in the middle of the night the room was never completely dark.  Between the city lights outside, and the lights of the machines hooked up to him there was always a low ambiance to the room.  So, when he woke and found that wasn’t the case his heart immediately skipped a beat. 

He could hear the heart rate monitor begin to beep faster and faster and he knew he had to calm himself down, but his new techniques didn’t seem to work.  He couldn’t imagine Brian’s voice in his head, or his arms around him.  All he could think was that something was terribly wrong and he was going to be hurt again.

He curled up on the bed and pulled the blanket over his head as he struggled to breathe, or even think.  The panic began taking over and he broke down.  The fact that he knew he was capable of calming himself down, and couldn’t, only spurred on the attack even stronger.

“Brian, Brian, Brian…”  He murmured over and over again.

Only Brian wasn’t there.  He was in Chicago, away on business.  But there was nothing else he wanted more in that moment then to see the face of the man he loved.

When he heard the door to his room open he thought that it was a nurse coming in to check on him because the heart monitor was going berserk.  However, instead of a calming voice asking him how they can help, someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him from the bed.  “NO!”  He cried out uselessly before he even knew who it was.  He couldn’t focus.  His mind was like putty when he was in the middle of attack and this time was no different.

A hard slap to the face made everything stop.  He was shocked back into lucidity, at least in part.  He looked up and gasped when he saw Reichert standing there in his room.  A bandage was wrapped around his head from the bullet wound and there was a savage look in his eyes.  “He was mine!  He was mine and you made me kill him!”  Reichert screamed in his face, the stench of his breath just as fowl as the last time he smelled it.

Reichert grabbed his arm and pulled him from the room.  Justin kicked and fought to break free of his hold, but the man’s grip was like a vice.  When he was in the hallway he saw the police officer that was guarding him slummed onto the floor, dead.  Reichert must have killed him to get to Justin.

“Carl!”  He cried out, despite knowing that the man had been discharged.  What other hope did he have?  Who else would save him?  “CARL!”  He cried again, so loudly his voice was hoarse.

“Shut up!”  Kenneth shouted as he dragged him down the dark hallway of the hospital.  Justin didn’t think it was odd that there were no nurses or doctors, or even any other patients that he could see, but in his head it just didn’t register as something to take note of.

Apparently sick of listening to him scream Kenneth stopped pulling on him and threw him against the wall.  He pulled out his gun, and shot.

Justin gasped awake, clutching his chest as he heaved for air.  He looked around the room frantically.  He was alone – blessedly. 

He continued to pant, but laid back down and collected himself.  It had only been a nightmare.  The first he’d had while on his own.  ‘Maybe Brian being gone is good for me.’  He thought, because now he was forced to handle them on his own and get better at it.

Once his breathing had calmed down he slowly rose once more, this time sitting up off the edge of the bed.  He kicked his legs over the side and stood.  Despite being in good condition, he’d been lying down a lot lately and standing felt odd for a moment.  Once he found his footing, however, he walked to the door, making sure his hospital gown was covering him up.

He gently opened it, looking to the right where the officer guarding him sat.   He couldn’t help but be relieved when he saw he was sitting right where he was supposed to be, instead of slumped over dead on the floor.  “Hey Taylor.”  The officer greeted, having turned when he heard the door open.

Justin flashed him a weak smile and then nervously cleared his throat.  “Um…Reichert is still in his room, right?”  He asked and the officer nodded surely.

“Yes.  They tell me even when he’s being moved for tests.”  He assured, but after such a vivid nightmare, Justin wanted to be positive.

“Could you check?”  He asked, so the officer looked at him in understanding and reached for his walkie-talkie.

“Hey, Officer Whittier here.  Checking on the prisoner.  Reichert is still in custody, correct?”  He asked over the air.

The response was almost immediate.  “Affirmative.  Currently he’s cuffed to the bed.”

“Understood.”  Officer Whittier lowered the walkie and looked to Justin.  “Satisfied?”  He asked sincerely and Justin offered a weak smile and a nod.

“Yeah.  Thanks.”  He said before turning back into the room and closing the door behind him.  He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge of it once more.  He looked around and his eyes fell on the night stand where a brightly colored coloring book sat.  He smiled, thinking about how he’d gotten it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Justin was munching on another tray of hospital food, which he would not miss when he was out, and occasionally looking at the TV hanging on the wall.  He was watching another one of those shows where they reveal ‘that he is/is not the father’ and laughing at the blow up afterwards.  Those people had no idea what real problems were.  He was only eighteen and two people had tried to kill him – he’d like to see something like that on the show.

There was a knock on the door, so he turned the volume down.  Since Kenneth was still in the hospital recovering, there was still an officer outside of his door to make sure nothing happened to him.  As such all of his visitors were monitored and only those on a list were allowed in.  So, Justin knew it could only be one of a handle full of people.

When Michael walked in, he wasn’t surprised. Oddly enough, Michael visited him often and he'd come to look forward to the visits.  Unlike with his mother or Debbie, he never tried to touch him and only seemed interested in making him feel better.  Having thought Michael still disliked him, he welcomed the change in attitude.

“Hey, Boy Wonder.”  Michael said with a smile, a plastic bag in his hands.  He set it on the table and immediately pulled out a carton from the diner.  Justin straightened, interest piqued.

“Lemon bars?”  He asked excitedly and Michael chuckled.

“Yeah, from Ma, with love.”  He said, setting them down on the tray table that slid over Justin’s bed.  Justin didn’t hesitate to pop it open and dig in.

“Mmmm…Thanks Michael.”  He said with a mouth full.  Michael laughed again and nodded.

“No problem.”  He said and sat down.  Justin could see that there was more in the bag, but he was sure Michael would show him what it was soon enough, so he didn’t ask.  Besides, lemon bars. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better.” Michael said suddenly and Justin nodded a bit.

“I was being stupid.” He admitted. “I thought keeping myself in the loft forever would make me safe. But…Nowhere is completely safe; it’s pointless to waste my life trying to avoid something that’s going to happen anyways.” He said as he took another bite.

“Well I’m still glad.” Michael repeated and they shared a smile.

When Justin was done gulping down the lemon bars, Michael suddenly seemed a bit nervous. Justin decided to have pity on him. “Spit it out.” He said.

“Spit what out?” Michael tried to act nonchalant, but he had never been a good liar. However, Michael’s honesty was his most redeeming quality, so Justin didn’t mind.

“Whatever it is you want to say. Is it about what’s in the bag?” He asked, and Michael looked to the plastic bag and nodded.

“Yeah. Ummm…” Michael sighed heavily and stood back up. He grabbed the bag and then handed it to Justin. Justin set it on his lap and used his good hand to fold back the plastic. He paused, confused, when he saw what looked to be a comic book inside. He pulled it out and started flipping through it to see that it wasn’t a comic book, it was a coloring book in a comic book style.

“I got those at the store.” Michael said, clearly nervous. “I thought… I mean, your hand could…I-.”

“What is this?” He asked, keeping his voice flat and staring down blankly at the pages. “Why would you give me this?” He asked, trying so hard not to smile through his bluff.

“I didn’t! I mean…I just wanted to help! I’m not trying to like, taunt you or something, Justin. I swear!”

Justin lost it at the wild-eyed look of fear on Michael’s face.

“I love it!” Justin said through his laughter, deciding to put him out of his misery. Michael straightened a bit, surprised.

“You do?”

“Yeah! You’re right; my hand isn’t strong enough to do my usual sketches. This will be great to help get the feel of it back. Drawing is ninety percent muscle memory, you know.” He said sincerely and watched Michael sigh in relief.

“Oh good! I was worried you’d get pissed and think I didn’t think you could draw anymore or something.” Michael rubbed the back of his neck and relaxed his shoulders a bit.

“No, Michael. This is really great. Thank you.” Justin hadn’t even thought about his art since the bashing. He had written it off as something he’d never have back. Even after he decided to fight instead of kill himself, he hadn’t thought about it. He’d been so focused on his recovery that his art had been pushed from his mind. But why couldn’t he use his art to help his hand get stronger again?  And what a surprise that it was Michael of all people who made him realize that.

He reached into the bag again and pulled out some colored pencils that Michael must have bought for him as well. “Thank you…” He repeated, surprised at how emotional he was suddenly feeling. He could feel his eyes start to tear up and his throat started to get tight. He coughed a bit and wiped at his eyes as he tried to collect himself. “I just want to be normal again.” He said, apologetically, as an explanation for his sudden emotions.

“You will be. I have to get back to the store. But if you need anything, give me a call.” Michael said before standing and giving him a wave. He never tried to touch him, and Justin liked that. He waved to him too and then he was alone in the room again. He flipped through the book until he found a page that looked interesting. He smiled, flexed his hand to see how it was feeling, and decided to give it a go.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Justin chuckled, recalling how nervous Michael had been about possibly offending him, but he really did enjoy the gift. He couldn’t use it much, as his hand tired too quickly, but he was still able to get some use out of it. He’d never seen many comic books either, and he found he enjoyed the style quite a bit.  Besides, it was a welcome relief from the TV which was his only form of entertainment in the room.

He was flexing his hand out and preparing to attack another section of the page when he heard someone outside arguing with the officer. He slowly lowered his hand back down, suddenly nervous that Kenneth had slipped by his security and was coming for him. That was when he realized he recognized the voice of the man shouting at the officer. “Brian!” He exclaimed, and jumped off the bed.

He darted to the door and pulled it open, smiling broadly when he saw Brian standing there, looking like he’d come straight from the airport. He was scowling at the officer, but relaxed when he saw Justin. “It’s alright. Brian can come in.” Justin said, reaching out with his left hand to grab Brian and tug him into the room. He shut the door behind them and found himself immediately pulled into Brian’s arms and practically crushed against his body.

“You fucking little shit!” Brian cursed in a whisper against his ear and refused to let him go. “I'm so fucking pissed at you!  Don’t you ever do something like this to me again!” Brian sounded legitimately angry, so Justin pulled back to look up at him. Brian immediately cupped his face in his hands and then bent to press their foreheads together. “I went back to the loft and you were gone…I didn’t know what to think…” He admitted, his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry.” Justin said, his voice matching Brian’s. He raised his hands up and pulled Brian’s away from his face so he could look at him.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Brian demanded, his voice still hard.  Now that he could see his face Justin could see his eyes were watering.  He didn't know if it was from anger of relief - or maybe a mixture of both - but he felt a huge tidal wave of guilt sweep over him.

“I didn’t want to ruin your meeting.” Justin answered honestly and Brian opened his mouth like he was going to yell at him again, but then sighed.  With a sad shake of his head Brian visibly tried to reign in his anger.

“Justin…it was a fucking business meeting. I thought you were dead!” Brian shook his just a bit and them pressed him against him once more. Slowly, Justin reached his arms up and wrapped them around Brian’s neck to hold onto him too.

They stood there for a long time, just holding each other. Justin could feel Brian’s body quiver and knew he was crying, but he said nothing. It did make him glad that he had never gone through with killing himself through. He didn’t even want to think how Brian would have reacted then…

After some time had passed, Brian reluctantly let him go, but not without giving him his customary kiss on the head that ended all of their embraces. Brian cleared his throat a bit and looked down at Justin for a long time. “So…what happened?  How did you end up here?” He asked and Justin sighed and walked back to the bed to sit down.  He should have known that would be the first thing Brian would ask.

When it looked like Brian was going to sit in the chair, he protested and grabbed his hand to tug him onto the bed as well. He’d been gone for days and Justin missed being near him. Brian acquiesced and sat back against the bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Justin. “Let’s see…” Just said slowly, wondering where to start to avoid telling Brian about the e-mail he sent to Stockwell. He decided to just skip over that part completely and instead told him about the attack on the Cleavers, and subsequent events.

During his re-telling of the past few days, Brian’s hand grabbed his own and pulled it back onto his lap. Justin laced their fingers together, but once again said nothing. He knew it was hard for Brian to express what he was feeling, and if he tried to call him out on it, Brian would just shut it down. It wasn’t worth it.

By the time he was finished, he thought he had distracted Brian enough with everything he’d gone through that he wouldn’t even question how Reichert and Stockwell found him. He was wrong.

“How’d they know who you were?” Was the first thing Brian asked as soon as he was finished with his story. He decided to play dumb.

“Stockwell recognized me from the bashing.” He explained but Brian squeezed his hand in reprimand and shook his head.

“No. How’d they know where to find you and that you knew what they did?” He asked more specifically and Justin sighed. He shifted so he was facing Brian a bit more, and then bit his bottom lip.

“I…sent them an e-mail.” He admitted and Brian immediately let go of him to stand up. He began furiously pacing back and forth in the room.

“You what?!” He demanded, the anger back.

“I was angry!” Justin exclaimed, going to stand as well, but he was stopped by one of Brian’s hands on his shoulder. “They were going to get away with it and I knew I had to do something to make them make a mistake! And they did! They took me!” Justin said it as if it was a good thing but Brian didn’t seem pleased in the least.

“You’re a fucking moron, you know that Sunshine? What if they hadn’t taken you? What if they’d just shot you right there?! God!” Brian turned so his back was to Justin and covered his mouth with a balled fist.

“But they didn’t. I’m fine.” Justin repeated, standing now and putting his good hand on Brian’s back. Brian flinched and stepped away again.

Brian shook his head a few times and then sighed heavily before turning around. He had his lips rolled into his mouth and gazed down at Justin intently. Then, suddenly his gaze softened as he ran his hand through Justin’s hair and rubbed his thumb over the still bold line of his scar. “When I got home and you weren't there, I called Debbie. She said you were in the hospital and they had scanned your head because you got hit again.” He said suddenly and Justin frowned slightly, realizing what this was really about.

“I’m okay. Really. The doctor gave me the all clear.” He assured, but Brian’s eyes didn't leave his temple.

“I’m going to have to get you a helmet to wear, Sunshine. Apparently you can’t be left to care for yourself.” He had a hint of a smile on his lips now, so Justin relaxed and cracked a smile of his own.

“Now that you’re back, they’ll let me go home.” Justin said, deciding they both needed a change of subject.

Brian raised his eyebrows, pleased. “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go home.”

Upon entering the loft again Justin could see there was still plenty evidence of the attack; there was a bullet hole in the door where the lock used to be, and the desk was in shambles. He frowned and glanced to Brian who began to almost mechanically clean it up. He had said that he didn’t know what to think when he got to the loft and saw he was gone, but if he walked in and saw this, Justin knew exactly what he had thought. He wondered if he should apologize, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he knelt by Brian and helped him picked everything up.

When they were finished Justin stood and walked to the kitchen to wash his hands, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was on the counter. A bottle of champagne and – yes. A bouquet of fresh roses.

Hesitantly, he reached out for the flowers with his good hand. He picked them up and could feel Brian’s eyes on him as he examined them. He then leaned his head forward and smelled them, a smile forming on his face. “You…bought me flowers?” He asked carefully, wondering what was the right thing to do.  Was he supposed to acknowledge it as the generous gift it was, or should he ignore it like Brian's crying and need to hold his hand at the hospital?  There had been a time when he would have known exactly what to say because he could read Brian like a book, but he was still coming back into himself and was now uncertain.  However, the words were already spoken.

Brian swiftly turned away, clearly not wanting to look at him directly.  It didn't deter Justin - he knew well enough now that Brian couldn't look at him when something remotely emotional was happening between them.  “I got the deal. Wanted to celebrate.” Brian muttered so quietly Justin had to strain to hear him. He smiled a bit more and smelled them again.

However, he suddenly frowned, as an image of Brian walking into the loft entered his mind, champagne and flowers in hand and smiling from ear to ear. Only to have it all crushed to find him missing and signs of a struggle obvious. “I’m so sorry…” He whispered, fully understand Brian’s anger at him in the hospital. “I should have called. But I…You’ve sacrificed so much for me these past few months. I knew how close you were to losing your job and I didn’t want to risk that.”

Justin explained, gently setting the flowers down and walking to Brian. He reached out with his good hand and touched his face, feeling a bit of stubble beginning to grow. “I was just trying to help.” Once he finished, Brian pulled him close again and Justin could feel him shake his head above him.

“You're okay.  That's all that matters.” Brian said and then squeezed him once before kissing his head and walking to the counter. “We can still celebrate.”

Justin smiled broadly and nodded, sitting on one of the stools to watch Brian open the bottle. “We should. Making partner; that’s huge Brian!” He said happily and finally Brian started smiling again.

“It means I’m going to have to go back to work though. And there might be days I work longer than you’re used to. It’s-.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise. This is a big deal! Let’s celebrate.” Justin insisted, not wanting Brian to feel at all guilty about the promotion. No one deserved it more than Brian did and he wasn’t going to be the reason Brian didn’t get everything he deserved.

Brian gave him a long look before smiling a bit more and nodding. “Yeah, alright.” He said and gave the top a hard jerk. A bit of the champagne flowed out and he reached behind him to get down some glasses. He poured in a small amount and then handed Justin a glass. They raised them together and clinked them against each other. “Cheers.”

Justin winked. “Cheers, Partner.”

Justin could see a big smile trying to break through Brian’s carefully honed mask. “Ah fuck it.” Brian said and let the mask go to reveal his beaming smile. He knocked his head back to gulp down the drink and then poured some more.

Justin laughed and held his glass out for a refill. When they had both had their fill Brian eyed him curiously. “You seem different, Justin.” He commented, and Justin knew that he really meant it by using his given name.  Brian only called him Justin when it was important.

“I feel different. It’s like something clicked back on in my head.” He explained as best he could, but it was difficult to explain his sudden transformation.  How could he, when he didn't understand it himself?  One minute he was holding a knife to his skin, and the next he was fighting for his life.  Surprisingly, his kidnapping only strengthened his resolve to get better, but the decision had been made before that.  He wished he could offer Brian a better explanation - because the man deserved one - but he couldn't.

Brian’s smile faded a bit, but seemed more tender somehow. “Good. I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get you back.”

Seeming to realize that what he said revealed quite a bit, Brian immediately put the mask back on and cleared his throat. “Now, it’s late. You just got out of the hospital, and I’m exhausted from the flight. Let’s go to bed.” He said and Justin nodded in agreement and slid from the stool.

He was about to turn and follow Brian into the bedroom, but suddenly gasped. “Wait!” He exclaimed and raced back to get the bouquet of flowers. He had to scrounge around for something to put them in, and when he couldn’t find anything close to a vase he settled for a pot. He ran the sink to put some water in it, and then set the flowers inside. It didn’t look great – in fact it was rather tacky looking – but he didn’t care. He still thought they looked beautiful because Brian had given them to him.  They were probably the only flowers he should ever expect from the man, but he didn't care.  He'd still gotten them.

Once he was sure they were safe for the night, he walked back to Brian and they walked into the bedroom together. As his hand was clenched up from working it with coloring so much lately, Brian helped him undress and then they lay in the bed. Justin shifted a few times before getting comfortable, but then sighed contently when he found that perfect spot. “I’m glad you got the client, Brian.” He whispered before going to sleep.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sunshine.” He heard Brian whisper back before he fell asleep as well.