Chapter 16

"Mr. Kinney," the doctor addressed Brian, "you can take them home, but have your daughter see her Pediatrician tomorrow." The ER doctor released Bree but wanted follow up care.

"We live in Pennsylvania. I'm here on business," Brian explained. They were a long way from Bree's doctor.

"Here's the number to our Pediatric clinic; make an appointment for her. She'll be fine but she should have a follow up visit." The doctor handed Brian Briana's discharge instructions and what to look for in an emergency. Brian took his sleeping daughter and distraught partner out of the Peds ER and into the main waiting area to find John and then back to the hotel.

*****

"Are they asleep?" John quietly asked Brian as he came out of the bedroom he shared with Justin.

"Yeah. He wouldn't let her go. I got him to at least let me change her into pajamas. They're in bed together. He feels so guilty. But it was an accident." Brian poured himself a drink from the mini bar then flopped onto the sofa.

"I know how he feels." John recalled the day that Patrick spiked the high fever. John had been convinced he did something wrong and that he was a bad father too.

"How am I going to fix this?" Brian asked as he stared into his drink.

"You can't. Let Justin work it out for himself, but you can spend the day with them tomorrow. Now that Adam signed, you can afford to ease up a little." Brian downed the rest of his drink, kissed his brother good night then went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Brian eased the door open. There in the middle of the bed were his two favorite blonds. Bree was sleeping peacefully cuddled into Justin's arms. Justin looked calm but Brian knew better. It was times like this that Justin would wake in the throes of a nightmare. Brian prepared for bed and the inevitable.

He lay on his side watching Justin and Bree. The little girl seemed to be fine, breathing normally and sleeping peacefully. Justin had seemed to be doing the same for the first while, but then Brian began to notice some labored breathing and jerky motions. From all the experience he had had with Justin's post traumatic disorders following the bashing, Brian recognized the signs of an impending nightmare.

Gently he eased Bree out of Justin's arms and picked up his sleeping daughter. He kissed the top of her head before getting out of bed and carrying her out of the bedroom and to her own room. He didn't want Justin's nightmare to scare her worse than she had already been scared that day. He laid her down on her bed and covered her with the sheets. He kissed her again, and waited for a minute to be sure she wasn't going to wake up and be frightened. When she seemed to have settled he made his way back to his husband.

Justin was thrashing around on the bed muttering, "No, no, no."

Brian climbed into the bed and reached out to take hold of Justin.

Justin pulled away and cried out louder, "No, Bree, no, no!"

"Justin, it's Brian. I'm here. Hold onto me. I'll look after you."

Brian felt Justin grab his arms where he was trying to hold him. Justin's fingers dug in as he gripped with all his might.

"Justin, Justin, it's okay. Wake up when you're ready. It's just a dream. Bree's fine and so are you. Hold on as tight as you need to."

Justin's grip tightened even more and Brian grimaced.

"You're a strong little fucker for your size," he breathed as Justin jerked a couple more times and then his eyes opened staring vacantly out into the room.

"Wha…what happened?" Justin asked in a daze.

"Nightmare, but you're fine."

"Bree!" Justin practically screamed as he looked around for his daughter. It was clear that he now remembered all the events of the day. "Where is she? Did she get sick again? Tell me, Brian!" Justin's death grip on Brian's arm grew even stronger.

"She's sleeping in her room. She's fine, Justin. Try to relax."

"I need to see her," Justin declared struggling to escape Brian's grasp. "Right now!"

Brian released his husband and Justin leapt from the bed racing through the suite to Bree's room. He went inside and knelt by her bed running his fingers through her hair and then bending to kiss her cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Bree. It was all my fault. I didn't listen to you and you were hungry and I'm such a shitty father. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Justin, let her sleep," Brian said from the doorway. "That's the best thing for her right now."

Justin looked up at Brian with eyes full of tears. "I could have…"

"Don't say that!" Brian ordered. He knew Justin was thinking that Bree could have been seriously injured or killed by eating the paint. "She's fine, and I know she's already forgiven you. She loves you. She needs her Daddy."

"But I let her get hurt," Justin said tears running down his face. "I didn't look after her properly."

"You're the best father you could possibly be," Brian said coming over beside Justin. "You love her and she knows it. Everything's going to be all right."

Justin shook his head. "I'll never paint around her again," he declared.

"She loves to paint with you," Brian said gently as he pulled Justin to his feet. "Come on back to bed."

Brian gently took Justin's hand and pulled him towards the door. Justin looked longingly at Bree unable to take his eyes off her.

"She'll be just fine, Justin. Come on."

Brian took him through the door and gently closed it behind them.

"I need a drink," Justin said suddenly.

"You need some sleep," Brian replied.

"I'll only dream about all the horrible things I've done to my daughter. What's the point?" Justin headed towards the bar.

"And what good will that do?" Brian asked as he watched Justin pour a large scotch and down most of it.

"Look who's talking. The man with all the tried and true pain management techniques. Liquor's what I need right now. Just go to bed and leave me alone." Justin saluted Brian with his glass before finishing what was in it and pouring himself another.

"I can't go to bed without you," Brian said softly.

"Why? Need a good fuck?" Justin asked sarcastically as he sipped at his drink. At least he wasn't gulping it down now.

"I need you, and you need to sleep."

"Fuck off, Brian!"

"Justin," Brian said gently trying to get through to his stubborn husband.

"What part of fuck off didn't you understand?" Justin demanded as he sipped some more of his drink.

"What good are you going to be to Bree in the morning if you're falling down drunk?"

"What good was I to her when I was stone cold sober? I … I almost killed her," Justin gulped trying not to cry.

"You did no such thing. She's fine. Accidents happen," Brian said trying to cajole Justin into some form of reasonableness.

"It wasn't a fucking accident. I was negligent," Justin declared. "It's a wonder they didn't report me and have me arrested."

"They didn't report you because it was an accident. They could all see how much you love Bree and she loves you."

"Yeah, enough for me to let her eat fucking metallic paint." The liquor was starting to hit his empty stomach and Justin suddenly felt very nauseous.

He made a beeline for the bathroom knowing that everything he just drank was coming up. He made it to the toilet in time, where he retched and heaved until he had emptied out his stomach. Once he was done he slid down beside the toilet and let the fucking tears fall.

"Feel better now?" Brian asked from the doorway. He had had just about enough of this.

"Piss off!"

"Believe me, I wish I could."

"Who's stopping you?"

"You."

"I've been telling you to get out. Why don't you?"

Brian walked across the room and sat down beside Justin. He pulled his lover into his arms and held on tight. Justin was rigid at first, but he didn't try to stop Brian from holding him. Gradually Brian felt Justin's body lean against his and he felt the silent sobs that wracked Justin's body. He just held on and let Justin cry it all out.

Some time later Justin stopped sobbing and tried to wipe at his eyes. "How could I have been so stupid and so careless?" he whispered.

"There is no answer to that, Justin. Things happen."

"But I should have stopped her. If I'd been paying attention, I could have stopped her."

"This isn't going to make things better," Brian whispered. "Remember that she's okay, and we won't let this happen again."

"That's right, because I'll never paint again, not until she's … twenty-one."

Brian chuckled. "Right around the time I let her date."

"It's not funny, Brian. I mean it. I won't paint again."

"You can't give up your art because of this. It's who you are."

"Then I'll just have to become someone else," Justin declared.

"That's not reasonable. You need to paint. You know how you get when you go for even a week without putting brush to canvas."

"I'll cope."

"Look, we'll work something out, but right now you need some sleep, and so do I. Come to bed." Brian stood up and held out his hand for Justin to take it. Justin hesitated and then let Brian pull him to his feet. He was suddenly very tired. But he also knew that he meant what he said. He would not paint again.

Brian tried to make love to Justin when they finally crawled back into bed, but he could see that Justin wasn't really interested. He realized that Justin needed him to hold him, so that's what he did. Finally they both fell asleep.

*****

"Dada! Daddy! Dada! Daddy!"

"Bree, where did you come from?" Brian asked as he opened his eyes and looked into the blue ones of his daughter.

"Unca John said to get you sleepyheads up," she giggled.

"Well, we'll just have to thank Unca John for that, won't we?" Brian snarked.

"Daddy?" Bree said poking her father.

"Yes, Bree," Justin said without rolling over to look at his daughter.

"Wake up."

"I'm awake."

"Daddy?"

"What?"

"Kisses," Bree stated holding out her arms.

Justin felt his heart break at her words and he turned to look at her happy little face waiting expectantly for him to hold her and kiss her. "Come here, sweetheart," he whispered and she threw herself into his arms like she always had, like she knew she would be safe there, like she loved him as much today as she had yesterday.

Justin hugged her close and kissed her little face all over. He loved her so much. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"Sowwy? Why?" she asked.

"Sorry, Bree," Brian corrected. "See, Justin, she doesn't even remember."

"But I do." Justin stared into Brian's eyes, asking for forgiveness from him too.

Brian nodded telling him that he loved him and everything was going to be all right. He hoped Justin would believe that.

"Hungry, Daddy," Bree said patting Justin's face.

"Me too," Justin said as his tummy rumbled mightily.

They all laughed and climbed out of bed.

"Hey, John, order a big breakfast," Brian called.

"Already have. Should be here in ten minutes or so."

"Time for a quick shower," Brian said as he grabbed Justin's hand and pulled him towards the bathroom. "Stay with Uncle John, Bree."

Brian set out to ravish his husband in the shower and his plan worked very well. Justin was feeling more like himself now that Bree had shown him that she still loved him and didn't harbor any bad feelings about what had happened. He let Brian have his way with him, enjoying every minute of it himself.

As they toweled off, Justin had to ask, "Do you think Bree doesn't even remember what happened to her yesterday?"

"I think she remembers on some subconscious level. You always hear them talk about the resiliency of youth. I guess this is a good example."

"You're very knowledgeable," Justin said.

Brian sucked in his bottom lip and looked very pleased with himself. "Let's go see if that food is here," he said.

John had the table set up and Bree was sitting in her booster chair eating some Cheerios with her fingers. She smiled at her fathers as they came into the room.

"Someone's got a good appetite. She seems none the worse for wear," John observed.

"She's a fighter, aren't you, Squirt?" Brian said kissing her cheek.

"Fighter," she smiled.

"She's the best little girl in the whole world," Justin said putting his arms around her from behind and kissing the top of her head.

"Love you, Daddy," she replied.

Those were the best words in the whole world to Justin. He smiled and then sat down next to Bree. He suddenly had a huge appetite.

After breakfast John headed off to N'rgy to work on the apartment. Justin kept wondering when Brian was going to get ready for work. When all he did was play with Bree, Justin decided to ask.

"Aren't you going to work today?"

"No, I'm not," Brian said smugly.

"You don't trust me alone with her, do you?" Justin asked with a frown. He suddenly felt like his breakfast might come back up.

"That's not it at all," Brian said seeing the look on Justin's face. "I signed the video game contract yesterday. N'rgy is officially launched."

"Oh? Congratulations. You should have been celebrating yesterday, instead of spending hours in Emergency."

"We can celebrate today."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"Whatever you'd like," Brian said.

"It's your celebration."

"And I want to do whatever you want to do," Brian stated.

Justin sighed. "Are you just trying to cheer me up?"

"Yes, is that such a bad thing?"

"I don't deserve it."

"Yes, you do. Why don't we go over to your studio and you can paint while I watch Bree?"

"I told you I'm not painting anymore."

"Justin…"

"Oh, fuck! I don't think I even closed the door to the studio, and I know I didn't lock it. Anyone could have walked in and taken everything."

"Are artists that dishonest?"

"When you're a starving artist, you could be. The open door would be like an engraved invitation," Justin explained worry written across his face.

"Then let's get ready and go see what the damage is."

About an hour later they got out of a cab in front of the building housing Justin's studio space. Justin looked up at the window where his space was. He wasn't sure he wanted to go back in there.

Bree was bouncing with energy. She didn't seem to have been affected by her problems of the day before. She tugged at Justin's hand.

"Walk, Daddy."

"I … um, I, Brian, would you mind taking her for a little walk?"

"Don't you want us to come up with you?" Brian asked.

"I do, but I want to clean up any reminders," Justin said, looking guilty once again.

"Okay, if you're sure. Be careful when you go up. If the door wasn't locked who knows what you might find?"

"I will," Justin said, but he didn't really care if there was an axe murderer waiting for him inside the studio. He deserved to be killed.

Brian and Bree headed off down the street with Bree tugging at Brian's hand. Justin watched them go and then took a deep breath before entering the building. He made his way up the stairs and looked at the door to his studio. It was firmly closed. He didn't remember shutting it. But maybe one of the paramedics had, or some good neighbor in the building, or maybe everything had been ripped off and the thief had shut the door to cover what he had done.

Carefully Justin turned the knob. It was unlocked. Not a good sign. He slowly pushed the door open and peered inside. The place was empty, of people, at least. He stepped inside and looked around. Everything seemed to be much the way he remembered it from yesterday. Could he have been lucky enough not to have anybody notice that the door wasn't locked?

He saw the remnants of what the paramedics had used to flush out Bree's mouth. He picked up the plastic wrappers and the bottle they had used. He carried them over to the garbage can and dumped them in. He walked to the table and saw the lid from the tube of paint still laying there. Why hadn't he put the fucking lid back on the tube? It would have been so much more difficult for Bree to get at the paint. He picked up the lid and tossed it in the garbage can too. He shuddered as it disappeared from sight.

Justin looked around the room. Everything seemed to be all right. Then he noticed Bree's T-shirt, the one he had pulled off her to wipe out her mouth. It was partly under the table. He picked it up and held it in his hands for a moment. How could he have been so stupid and … negligent? He could have killed his daughter.

He took the T-shirt over to the garbage and threw it in too. There would be no more painting for him … or Bree.

The painting he had been working on yesterday still stood on the easel. Justin walked over towards it and stood studying it for a long time. It was one of the best things he had done in a long time. He really liked it, but it had almost cost him his daughter. He picked up a palette knife that came to a sharp point. He ran his fingers over the end deciding what he was going to do. He raised the hand holding the palette knife, prepared to drive it through the offending canvas and destroy the piece of art … forever.

Just as he did this, the door to the studio opened and Bree ran in.

"Daddy, Daddy, look what I found," she called. She ran across the apartment to him.

His hand dropped to his side and he squatted down to catch her in his arms. "What did you find, sweetheart?"

"Look!" She held out her little hand opening it to reveal a pretty pink colored stone.

"Where did you find that?"

"Outside," she said in a matter of fact way.

Justin smiled. "It's very pretty … like you."

"I know," she said seriously. "Can I paint that color?"

Justin felt his blood run cold. She still wanted to paint after all that happened yesterday.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart," he said gently.

"But I want to. I love this color very much."

"Um … I don't know."

"Pleeeeease, Daddy."

"Are you sure?"

"Yay, I want to paint."

"Okay, let's get you a fresh piece of paper for your easel," Justin said.

Brian had been standing in the doorway holding his breath. He didn't know Bree was going to ask to paint, but it was the best thing that could have happened. It should show Justin that Bree was fine with being around paints. Maybe she could encourage Justin to paint as well.

He walked over to the table and set down Bree's bag. He pulled out one of the I Luv NY T-shirts and handed it to Justin. He took it reluctantly and pulled it over Bree's head. She ran to her little easel and studied the colors that Justin had uncapped for her. She looked at all the little bottles.

"Daddy, the right color isn't here," she said with a frown.

"I think you'll have to mix it."

"Help me?" she asked.

Justin walked over to the easel and picked up the palette that he used to mix colors. He tore off the top sheet of paper and then daubed some red and white on the page. He mixed them together and showed them to Bree.

"Pretty," she said.

"I think we need just a touch of black." He added just the merest speck of black and mixed the colors. "There you go," he said proudly.

Bree took the brush and started to spread the color on her paper.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Justin replied with a smile.

It was a start, Brian thought, as he sat down in one of the chairs.