No B/J interaction in this chapter...but hang in there dear readers, the next chapter is a doozie. :)
*I do not own QAF or its characters.

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~Gwen~

I had known Brian for some time now, but the look on his face just a few moments ago, was something that I hadn't seen before.  It was only out of idle curiosity about Brian Kinney the man, that I had him investigated.  Besides finding out that he was more than a little promiscuous a few years back, I found out that he had a huge piece of real estate out in the rural West Virginia area.  The real estate was not what intrigued me as much as the promiscuity did.  I have to say that I wasn't a saint in my younger years either, but it really didn't fit who he was today.  If he was still carrying on as he did a few years ago, my PI couldn't find it.  What did turn up though was an obsession with art, or should I specify, an artist, Justin Taylor.

I never brought it up, because he had a piece from said artist hanging in his home office and there were times when he would look at it and just space out, his expression one of deep loss. I just couldn't bring myself to ask.  As it was, I had also found out that the property in West Virginia was registered in not just the name of Brian Kinney, but also in the name of one Justin Taylor.  I drew enough conclusions to know that this was obviously something very private and very painful for the usually sarcastic and condescending man. I almost was reluctant to even mention using the house, but I became so desperate to find a place to hold my retreat that I gave in and just did it.

Now though, seeing that look on his face when I mentioned the place, I was unsure if it was the thing I should have done.

~Jennifer Taylor~

Things are quiet around here now.  Tucker was off to some convention and Molly was in her second year as an undergrad at Carnegie Mellon, although she recently had been talking about NYU.  I think she was missing her brother, or maybe he was missing her. I'm not sure.  I know that they still talk sometimes, but only because I still pay her phone bill and his number was on the bill several times.  And although it kind of hurts to think that he doesn't stay too in touch with me, I am glad that he did keep in touch with Molly.  I think she finally caught on to the bullshit that Craig tended to spout out about her brother.  It was not long after her 18th birthday that she finally came out and said that she had heard enough, and as far as I know they haven't spoken to each other since.

Sometimes, late at night I wonder how Justin really is.  I mean, when I do talk to him, which his calls seem to come farther and farther apart, he seems so distant.  It's like trying to talk to someone that is merely going through the motions.  It makes me sad to think that he will live his life lonely because what he had with Brian, was something that he couldn't find with someone else.

And isn't that the thought of the hour, Brian.  I haven't heard from him in years.  Not since he moved to Chicago anyway.  Out of an unspoken rule, when Justin does call, we never mention him.  I know that he is still hurting, and truthfully, as a parent I can't help but to be a little mad about the break-up or whatever the hell they called it.  It has made my son into a hopeless shell and that is why I think he doesn't call or come to see me anymore.  He knows that I will only be more infuriated at Brian over the way everything was handled. 

I had come to terms, in my own time of course, with the fact that my son was in love with someone that had the emotional maturity of a two year old.  And then it was all over.  I still remember the day that started what I term "radio silence."  It was like Justin went off the grid for a while.  He didn't answer his phone, he didn't visit, he didn't even write.  The only way I even knew he was alive was a call from Molly.  Justin had called her to tell me that he just needed time.  She had said the way that he had uttered the word sounded bitter and almost wistful.  It was in that moment that I knew my son had changed, and there was nothing I could do to fix what was broken.

The ringing of my phone interrupted my thoughts, and as I looked at the caller ID, I was shocked to see it was Justin.  It was as if my thinking of him had actually conjured up his phone call.  I had to laugh a little at the stupidity of that thought.

"Hello Justin," my heart was beating a little fast in my chest as a hundred and one things flew threw my brain.  Was he hurt? Did he run out of money?  Was Molly ok?

"Hey Mom," deep sigh, "I was just calling to see if I could come and see you for a couple of days?" 

Justin wanting to see me?  This was bad, it had to be bad, he never comes to "visit."  "Is everything alright sweetie?"  I calmly ask?

"Yeah, I just decided that I haven't seen you in a while and well...Molly thought she would come in for the weekend and so, I thought we could all get together?"  His words were rushed, like he had to gather courage just to get that out.

"Sure sweetheart, when will you be coming in?"  I wasn't going to turn him out, why would he even question it?

"Well, I'm kind of sitting in the driveway now."  I ran over to the window, not even pretending a sense of calm or as some might say, minding my WASP-y manners.  Sure enough he was sitting in a rental car right outside my door.  I wished that he would get his own, but he refused saying that in the City it was just easier to use public transit, or rent vans if he needed to move bigger pieces around.

I walked out the door, phone still in hand and motioned for him to come in.  As he stepped out of the car, I almost did a double take.  His golden blonde hair had lost its luster and seemed to drag his head down.  His weight had plummeted to an alarming level, he had sunken in cheekbones, but it was his eyes that had me worried. The dark circles beneath them couldn't even compete with the complete lack of life that was in his eyes.  The blue was even muted to a deathly grey and it took all I had in me not to break down and cry in that moment.

~Justin~

Great, just great.  I knew I looked bad, but seeing my Mother's expression (that she quickly masked, mind you), just confirmed it.  I was death warmed over.  She must have known on some basic level not to question me, because she did nothing but take my bag and usher me inside.  As I entered what had never been my home, I realized I was tired.  Not just physically tired, but emotionally and mentally tired.  I could only hope that I could get through this weekend long enough to get back to Britin, the only place I felt any kind of peace.  Mom, walked into the kitchen.  I think she said something about making me a sandwich.  I don't really know.  I'm not really hungry, but I'll let her go about doing what she thinks she should do anyway.

Molly was the great engineer of this whole thing.  I don't know how, but when I had called her to let her know that I was at Britin, she suggested that I go see mom.  I told her she was crazy, but see¸ there is this thing about Molly that I just can't tell her no.  So, here I am sitting here feeling like a stranger in my own skin and hoping that Mom doesn't start in on the questions.

I can hear a phone ringing in the distance and my mother's voice floats through the air to me from the kitchen.  I feel as if I am losing time, if that makes any sense.  Maybe that is what I need to do, lose time.  Lose time...such an odd statement...how does one lose time. 

I know I am going to faint before it happens, but it's almost like what happens on a TV show, everything is going in slow motion, but so fast that I can't even call out.

~Jennifer~

"Hey Justin, that was Molly, she said that..." As I walked back into the living room I noticed him slumped over the arm of the couch.  His breathing a little labored and his ashen skin a little moist.  "Justin!"

I rushed over to him and felt of his forehead.  It was warm to the touch. I still had my phone in my hand so I dialed 911.

After speaking with the 911 operator and making sure the ambulance was on the way, I sat down next to the couch in the floor.  I ran my hands through his brittle hair, "Justin, oh God, Justin, how did it get to this point."

As I thought about it, even if he had been awake, I don't think he would have answered me.  But I knew and again I felt despair in knowing there was nothing I could do to fix what I had not broken.

~Brian~ Two days later

What was I thinking?  Fuck. Fuck!  I had agreed to let Gwen use the house.  It hit me all of the sudden that I hadn't even been there since Jus-  well since he had left.  Which meant, no furniture, no food, well no anything!  So, I called the one person whom I could trust...

"Theodore, I need to you to fix up the house..." there was a good few seconds of silence and then,

"Bri, what house?"  I rolled my eyes.

"Are you supposed to be this useless?  The House...you know, the one with all the rooms and shit...ugh, do I have to draw you a map with pretty arrows and shit or...

"Yeah Bri, I got it.  What do you mean by ‘fix it up'?"  I could hear the frustration as well as curiosity in his voice.  Ted had become quite confident in talking with me and I let him get away with shit, that several years ago, I would have flayed him alive for.

"Gwen wanted to host some party thing there, and I agreed to it out of sheer stupidity, so now I have to fix it up and make it worthy of the pretentious bastard that I am." 

"Ok, well...it will take a couple of weeks, but I ca...

"NO!  It has to be done by tomorrow! They are arriving tomorrow night"  I could honestly see Ted having a total crisis on the other line

"B-B-But Bri...that's crazy." 

"I don't give a shit.  Can it be done?  I swear if it can't, I'll get rid of you quicker than you can sa-" He cut me off before I could even finish my sentence

"I'll get it done, but it's not going to be cheap."  His deep sigh at the end told me that while reluctant to do this, his curiosity as to why I was opening the house, after not even acknowledging its existence in five years won out.

"Good, just one more thing though, no one touches the den."  I closed my eyes as I thought of the den.  I was not looking forward to this.

A few hours later I was on a plane to Pittsburgh and in a car driving out to a house that held nothing but painful memories.

The furniture company was just locking up when I arrived and Ted was standing at the door with the keys.  He silently handed them to me, got in his car and left.  With trepidation I unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold.  I have to say, Ted had outdone himself.  The furniture was what I would have picked for the house and as I wandered through it, I realized with painful clarity that I should have been here.  I should have been here with Justin. 

It was in that moment that I allowed myself to do something that I rarely ever did.  I sat down on the chaise in the foyer and cried.