Chapter 33 - Delusional Minds Want to Know.

The Loud Place was always one of Kevan’s favorite outing spots. It was always bright and colorful and happy there. There were lots of colorful people things of all sizes to look at. There were interesting smells and curious things to put in your mouth and his own people things usually seemed happy when they went to the Loud Place. And it was always easier to deal with his people things when they weren’t in a bad mood, so Kevan approved of the Loud Place.

Yes, it WAS rather loud there and the first couple of times he’d been to the Loud Place Kevan hadn’t been sure he liked it, but by now it was old hat for the well-travelled six month old. For the most part, now that he was used to the Loud Place, Kevan didn’t let all the noises bother him. He was an easy going baby and just rolled with it.

Mostly.

The other great thing about the Loud Place was that many of his favorite people things could be found there. The Red One was almost always there - she was nice and soft and liked to pat Kevan’s cheeks. He liked The Red One a lot, even though she was one of the primary reasons why The Loud Place was so loud. Then there was The Silly One, who would either take Kevan to The Loud Place himself or at least show up there during the course of a visit. The Silly One was always good for a giggle or two. He could stay. And there was also The Nervous One - he usually came as a set with The Silly One. Kevan actually liked The Nervous One a lot. He was quiet and didn’t move around a lot, which Kevan appreciated, especially amidst the usual chaos of The Loud Place. But The Nervous One always seemed a little unsure about Kevan. Whenever Kevan was being held by The Nervous One he could always tell that the big person thing was a bit jumpy. Kevan tried to reassure The Nervous One with his happy face and happy mouth sounds, but most of the time that didn’t seem to work. The baby usually resorted to chewing on The Nervous One’s fingers, or any piece of his clothing that Kevan could reach, as a way to show The Nervous One just how much Kevan really liked him.

And even outside the usual contingent of big people things that Kevan was used to seeing, there were lots of other people things to watch at The Loud Place. Some of them were even friendly and would come up to Kevan and talk to him. Kevan always watched The Papa closely when this would happen though. If The Papa seemed to like a stranger person, then Kevan figured he would like them too. Kevan trusted The Papa to be a good judge of the stranger sort of people things.

So there Kevan was, enjoying his visit to The Loud Place one afternoon, happily mouthing away at this intriguingly yummy thing that The Papa had given him to chew on with his brand new tooth, when the baby picked up on The Papa suddenly getting all anxious and not happy. Kevan almost dropped his mouth toy thing in his haste to look around and find whatever was making The Papa so upset. At first all looked normal - for The Loud Place, that is.

Then Kevan saw The Black One.

Well, no wonder The Papa was making his unhappy face! The Black One made Kevan want to be unhappy too. Kevan watched with baby intentness as The Papa and The Black One made mouth sounds at each other for a long time. The more they talked, the more angry and jittery The Papa got. This made Kevan almost as nervous as The Nervous One. After a bit, The Papa became louder and louder and then he was jumping up and moving around. The Red One came over and got even louder and they were all nervous and moving around and upset and Kevan didn’t like it at all. It made his tummy hurt.

By the end of the whole tirade of mouth sounds, Kevan decided he was too upset to even bother with the yummy thing that he’d been gnawing at. Instead of putting the now gooey and slightly slimy yummy thing down on the high chair tray, though, he decided to give it to The Black One. Kevan very sneakily stuck the now yucky yummy thing into a hole in the clothing The Black One was wearing.

Better that both things which made Kevan’s tummy hurt be in one place together, he thought.

Then he picked up the silvery metal thing that was sitting on his tray and started drooling on it instead.

The primary problem with finding this Taggart guy, and presumably, by extension, Brian too, was that he apparently didn't exist.

Or at least that's what the cops were telling Justin. Seeing as they didn't have a full name for the suspect, just the single name ‘Taggart’ - which might have been a first name, a last name or even just a nickname - there was no way to locate him in any directory or database. Nobody on Liberty Avenue seemed to know anyone by that name, even though the boys had run into him there more than once. So far the police hadn’t managed to come up with a clear picture of the license plate for the vehicle that had driven away with Brian, so that was also a dead end. And Brian and Justin were the only two who had seen the man in person often enough to know exactly what he looked like. Unfortunately, any of the gifts they'd received from the stalker that had included his photo had been thrown out by Brian before they knew how serious the situation was. And, without at least something more to go on, there was very little the police could do.

Justin wasn't about to give up though. Someone, somewhere, had to know this guy. The gay community in Pittsburgh wasn't THAT big. Someone out there knew Taggart - even if they didn't know him by that name. Justin simply had to find the right person. And the only way he could think of to do that, was to get the guy’s picture out there. Thankfully, Justin's artistic skills were more than up to this challenge.

It took him several tries and most of the morning, but by noon the day after Justin had met with Horvath, he had a workable likeness of the stalker. Actually, it ended up being a damn good drawing. If he hadn’t needed it for a life-and-death emergency, Justin might have considered turning this one in for credit in one of his classes at PIFA.

With Kevin in tow and the drawing in hand, Justin headed out to Vanguard, where Cynthia was waiting for him. She had promised to digitize the drawing, add whatever text was needed, and then help him make enough copies that he could plaster all of Liberty Avenue with his drawing. Cynthia also had plans to post the image online using social media in the hopes that that might turn up even more help. Brian's efficient staff made short work of the project, and turned out 200+ poster-size copies in less than an hour.

Justin's next stop, was the Liberty Diner. If anyone knew how to mobilize people, it was Debbie Novotny. The indefatigable Diner waitress had already promised to call up her entire PFLAG chapter so that they could canvas the community more quickly. The ‘Have You Seen This Man?’ posters would be parceled out amongst the various volunteers, who were directed to go in all directions across the city, handing out copies as they saw fit, and posting the flyers in any stores that would allow it. Hopefully, with the wide assortment of people they had, they'd be able to cover a wide geographical area. Justin was sure that someone would see the picture, recognize the face and call the police hotline number at the bottom.

When Justin and Kevan arrived at the Diner, Debbie was still busy with the tail end of the lunch crowd and wasn't able to help much other than to send her minions over as they slowly trickled in. Justin didn't really need her assistance to divide up and hand out the posters to the people willing to help. He was gratified to see how many friends were actually turning up. At this rate, he might even have to call Cynthia and get her started on a second batch of posters before the day was out.

Justin had already distributed more than half of his stack of posters when Michael wandered into the Diner followed by Ben. Justin glared at the pair but unluckily for him that alone didn't seem like enough to deter Michael. Before he could even clear away his piles of posters, the unwelcome man was standing next to Kevan’s high chair looking down at Justin with big puppy-dog eyes and a contrite little smile. If he hadn't been in public, Justin might have been tempted to slap the simpering little smile off the moron’s face.

“Hey, Justin,” Michael started off deferentially. When the teen didn't even acknowledge his greeting, Michael looked back questioningly at his boyfriend and then, after receiving a reassuring nod, sighed but carried on. “I know you're probably still pissed off at me. I get that. I know now that I shouldn't have been spouting off about Brian's business like that in public. I guess I just wasn't thinking.” This comment earned Michael a barely audible growl from the still obviously angry blond. Disregarding the subcontext, however, Michael plowed on. “Yeah, I know that wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. I was just too worried about Brian to think straight. And, apparently I was right about Brian being in danger,” Michael added, but looked up when Ben cleared his throat and elbowed his boyfriend in the side in a semi-discrete manner. “Anyway, what I'm trying to say, Justin, is that I'm really sorry. Really. And I hope you'll let me make it up to you and Brian.”

Michael finished his spiel and then just stood there smiling apishly, waiting for the expected reply that would absolve him of any guilt. But if he was expecting to hear something along the lines of, ‘Don't worry about it, Michael’ or ‘No problem!’, he'd come apologizing to the wrong guy. Justin wasn't about to to let bygones be bygones. Especially when Brian was still missing and it was all this idiot’s fault.

“Let's hope Brian actually comes back in one piece so you get a CHANCE to make it up to him,” Justin replied with a snarl that wiped Mikey's sycophantic grin away in two seconds flat. “As for me, I doubt there's anything you could EVER do that would make me want to forgive you after you put my partner’s life in danger. Maybe, if I thought you'd actually learn from your mistake this time and try to change, I MIGHT consider forgiving you sometime in the next decade, but as it is, I know you're not serious and probably couldn't change even if you wanted to. So, no, apology NOT accepted, Michael. Not now and not . . .”

Justin was on a roll. He had wanted to lay into Michael for months and now, finally, his opportunity was at hand. There was nothing that was going to stop him. Justin was going to let it all out and totally ream Michael's ass at long last. And, fuck, was it going to feel sooooo good.

However, right when Justin was building up a good head of steam, Michael lowered his head in well-deserved shame and his eyes drifted down to the tabletop where the posters showing Justin's drawing of Taggart were scattered about. In awe, Michael picked up the topmost poster and stared at it for a full sixty seconds, totally ignoring Justin's ongoing tirade. The smile that broke out on the older man's face in the sixty-first second would have made Justin even more irate if Michael hadn't interrupted him with so much enthusiasm that even the raving blond was momentarily silenced.

“THIS is Taggart? Your stalker? The one who's got Brian?” Michael asked, almost joyfully, stunning Justin into a momentarily confused muteness. When Justin finally gathered his wits enough to figure out what Michael was asking, he nodded. “Ma! Ma, come here! Quick!” Michael bellowed “I can’t believe that THIS is the guy you've been looking for! I didn't know his name was Taggart but I've seen this guy all over. A bunch of times. Ma knows him too - we saw him on tv even, that time you guys all went to New York for that GQ thing at New Years. Ma recognized him standing in the crowd outside when you first got there. Ma! Ma, look at this!”

Michael shoved the poster into Debbie's hands as soon as the busy waitress walked over. “Hey! This is Blueberry Waffles!” Deb exclaimed. “Shit! Don't tell me this little twink is your stalker?”

“You know this guy?” Justin demanded, jumping to his feet and grabbing hold of Debbie by the shoulders. “Tell me everything you know!”

“He comes in here all the time,” Deb continued, smacking her gum as she tried to remember everything she could about the young man. “Always orders blueberry waffles, a side order of bacon and a large orange juice. He always seemed like a pretty nice kid, too. A bit lonely maybe, but I can't believe he'd ever hurt anybody. I guess you never know though, right?”

“A name, Deb. Do you know his name? Or where he lives? Or even who else he hangs out with. Something that will help us find him. Please, Deb. Think!” Justin begged desperately.

“Shit! I'm not sure . . . Let me think. Let me think,” Deb mumbled as she chewed on the eraser of her pencil for one agonizingly long minute. “No. Sorry, Sunshine, but I don't think he ever told me his real name. He was always just ‘Blueberry Waffles’. No idea where he lives either. But I do remember that he'd sometimes come in at odd hours and I'd see him hanging out with a couple of the hustlers that come in really late - I don't think he’s a hustler himself though. He was always dressed a shade nicer and he always had money. I remember him paying for breakfast for some of the boys more than once. Now, if I remember correctly . . . Yeah, the last time I saw him in here he was with Spanish Omelet, Double BS and Twiggy?”

“Twiggy?” Ben asked with that ‘fascinated professor’ gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah. Real skinny little fucker, young too, so I call him ‘Twiggy’” Deb explained further.

“I don't suppose you know any of these other guys’ names either, huh?” Justin asked defeatedly.

“Sorry, Sweetie, no. But they're mostly all street boys anyways so I doubt they'd give me their real names even if I asked,” Deb added consolingly. “I can, however, tell you where you'll most likely find them. Although you'll have to go down there late since the boys usually don't start work until after ten . . .”

Justin looked over at Kevan, who was still happily slobbering all over a teething biscuit, trying to think who he could call to babysit that night while he was out looking for rent boys. Yeah, Zavi was going to love that - the big hulking security monster had only just barely agreed to let him come into the Diner by himself, despite the fact that they were all convinced Taggart wasn't much of a threat anymore now that he had the object of his obsession in hand. Zavi was not going to be fond of the idea of Justin out all night in some of the rougher parts of town.

“We’ll do it. Won't we, Ben?” an unusually un-whiny voice asserted almost immediately. “I mean, you'll need to be home with Kevan, right? But Ben and I can go down there where the hustlers hang out and show your posters around for a few hours. If you want, that is.”

Ten minutes later, Michael headed out with a large stack of Justin's drawings and another big smile on his eager puppy dog face.

“Damn! I'm going to have to fucking forgive the little weasel again, aren't I, Kevan?” Justin groaned as he watched Michael exit through the Diner’s front door.

Sometimes Brian wished that Taggart would just go ahead and kill him already. If he didn't, the boredom surely would before much longer. Or Brian would end it himself, he thought morosely as he paced the length of the tiny room where he was still locked up.

It had been three days now. Three days of nothing to do but pace and worry and think. Talk about fucking ‘stir crazy’! But Brian still hadn't managed to convince his jailer to either tell him where Kevan was or bring the baby to see him. And despite all the time he had for thinking, Brian still hadn't come up with any better ideas about how to get his son back without the baby getting hurt. So he had no choice but to stay where he was even though he was going slowly mad from the boredom.

It was so bad that Brian almost wished he still had some of Tag’s mind numbing drugs. Well, no. He didn't actually wish that. It was just the boredom talking.

That had been Brian's primary stipulation when he had agreed to stay. Brian had made Taggart swear that he wouldn't try to drug him again. So far the twink had been true to his word. Brian was still clear-headed and completely lucid, so he’d kept up his end of the bargain and not tried to leave or hurt Taggart.

He still didn't trust the little fucker though and had stuck to drinking only tap water out of the faucet in the little attached bathroom. He also tried to eat as little of the food Taggart brought to him as possible - he knew he couldn't go without food for long, and that his captor could hide drugs in the food almost as easily as he could in a drink, so Brian just ate the bare minimum to keep himself going. Which actually wasn't really that hard for Brian seeing as he hated the heavily carb-laden food that Taggart tended to serve him. But even considering that he was eating sparingly, Brian continued to be plagued by ongoing stomach problems and nausea - he hoped it was just lingering effects from the prior drugging and not a sign that the drugs were still being administered somehow. He’d asked Taggart repeatedly for assurances that he was keeping up his end on this issue and received them every time. There wasn’t really much else Brian could do though outside of starving himself.

Besides the no-drug thing, the only other rule that Brian had insisted upon was that Taggart was not allowed to touch him or dress him. The kidnapper had been disappointed by that limitation, but eventually capitulated. In exchange, Brian had agreed to let Taggart continue to keep the door to the room locked. Not that that was much of a concession really. Brian figured that if he really wanted out he could simply overpower Tag again or, worst case scenario, he'd throw the big armchair through the window and climb out that way.

Taggart still came into the room several times a day to reminisce with Brian about all the good times they'd shared . . . In the little lunatic’s crazy fantasy world, that is. Brian had given up on trying to sort through the insane blather before the first day was even halfway over. There might have been some kernels of reality hidden in there somewhere, but mostly it was all just pure delusion and Brian didn't care to listen to it anymore. Instead, he let the crazy man ramble on and on while he focused his own mind on things outside this tiny prison room.

While Taggart was babbling, Brian thought about his real life. He thought about work and laughed to himself over how pissed off Vance probably was by now since his best Ad Exec was MIA. He wondered if he'd even still have a job by the time he found his way back to the world. Strangely enough, the prospect of being fired wasn't that upsetting. Compared to being kidnapped, drugged out of his mind and held against his will for fuck knew how long, or knowing that his precious son was being kept hidden from him by a raving psycho, Gardner Vance’s histrionics seemed petty. Brian had always wanted to have his own agency anyway. Maybe now was as good a time as any to pursue that dream.

He thought about the family and tried to imagine their various reactions to his disappearance. He was sure THAT whole mess would be a pain in the ass to deal with whenever he did reappear. Deb would probably slap him upside the head and call him an ‘asshole’ for daring to get kidnapped. Michael would cry and cling to him and generally make a nuisance of himself. Lindsey would also get all teary and moist and then gush over him, acting like she was the only one who'd been hurt by Brian's long absence. Em and Ted would welcome him back at the same time they made sure he knew how hard his disappearance had been on Justin.

And Justin . . . He tried not to think about Justin too often. It simply hurt too much. Brian missed his Pretty Boy more every single day but it didn’t help to dwell on it. He knew the young man must be going insane with worry and grief over Kevan being taken. Brian hoped that someday Justin would forgive him for bringing this nightmare down on their heads. But that was just one more reason why Brian felt he had to stay and try everything he possibly could to save his son - not only would he be unable to bear the guilt he'd feel if something happened to Kevan, but he'd also never be able to look his sweet, loving partner in the eye again.

He also tried not to think about everything that had transpired down in Cancun before he'd come to his senses and flown home. For one thing, Brian knew that regretting the way he'd screwed up wouldn’t fix anything - that would have to wait until he had a chance to talk to the man he hoped was still waiting for him. And secondly, he knew that worrying about his health status after that ridiculous beach slip up wasn't going to do him any good. By this point, he figured it was too late to take advantage of any prophylactic meds anyway, so if he had been exposed to anything he'd just have to deal with it whenever he finally did get out of here. But he still couldn't help it when the tendrils of worry crept into his brain sometimes.

Mostly, though, Brian tried to focus on all the things he’d change when - not, if - he was finally free from this hell. And he did intend to change quite a lot. The first thing being that he would spend a lot more time with his sons. In order to do that, though, he’d have to work through all the inherent limitations he and others had put on his life that had, so far, prevented him from this pursuit.

His work was one of the primary things that had limited his time in the past. Brian readily admitted that his work was important to him. It not only provided him with the income needed to live the life he wanted, but it was also intrinsically tied into his self-image. He supposed that this form of affirmation was understandable considering the childhood he’d had. Growing up he’d never been sure when his next meal would be since Jack and Joan had repeatedly drank or gambled away the grocery money. So, now that he was an adult, having money, and lots of it, not to mention a prestigious job, helped Brian feel safe. He would never give that up. But he could learn to balance his work with his home life better.

Another limitation that had shown itself a lot lately - this one at least not of Brian’s own making, or not entirely - was the way Lindsey kept such strict control over his time with Gus. That was definitely going to change as soon as Brian regained his freedom. He was tired of Lindsey dangling the possibility of more Gus time over his head, only to come up with excuse after excuse when he did try to see the boy. Brian wanted his sons to grow up together and really be true siblings. At the bare minimum, Brian thought he should be able to have visits with Gus for a few hours every weekend and maybe one sleepover a month.  And those visits should NOT include Lindsey every time, either. He didn’t think that was too much to ask. To make this happen, though, he knew he was going to have to play hardball with Lindsey. It was long past time to set some concrete guidelines for when Brian would get to see Gus, and then make sure that they were enforced, even if that meant hiring lawyers. He was really grateful that Justin had talked him out of signing away his parental rights to Gus, otherwise this part of his plan would never be possible.

And finally, the remaining limitation that Brian needed to work through was his own private fears about becoming this new, fully-domesticated, family-oriented person, that circumstances seemed to be pushing him towards. Even though it was something he knew now that he wanted, it still wasn't a role he felt comfortable with. He had no examples of good parenting from his own experiences to use as a template for how he should act, so he’d always doubted that he could do the parenthood thing. His role as a Stud, on the other hand, had come naturally from the very beginning. Which probably explained why he was so reluctant to move away from that part of his past.

But, as his present circumstances clearly proved, it wasn't possible for him to be BOTH the biggest Stud around and a great father at the same time. The two roles clashed in many, obvious ways. He was going to have to choose which was more important to him. Which was more fulfilling. Which was sustainable in the long run. And Brian had to admit, being the ultimate stud wasn't really any of those things.

If he was going to choose parenthood though, it wasn’t going to be easy. Not only did he have to work through his own fears and how that decision would change his life, but he’d have to somehow get his friends on board. Looking back over the past six months, Brian could pinpoint more than a few times where his circle of friends - and most notably, Michael - had undermined his desire to be a good father. There was going to have to be some significant adjustments made in that arena if his decision to focus on his family was going to work. Brian really wasn’t looking forward to that whole discussion, but it had been a long time coming. If Mikey and the Gang weren’t ready for him to grow up already, that was too bad. It was probably going to happen sooner or later anyway. Boy would they be surprised though that it was already ‘sooner’.

“. . . And I can’t wait to get the decorations in the nursery finished! I’m redoing the whole thing in yellow so it’ll be bright and cheerful. Won’t that be great? Then we can bring Kevan home again and we’ll all be together as a real family forever,” Tag was still prattling on about fuck knows what when Brian finally tuned back into the ‘conversation’ upon hearing his son’s name. “You know, Brian, I was thinking . . . what do you think about having more kids someday. Maybe after a year or two, when Kevan’s a little older? Wouldn’t that be fabulous? We could have an entire house full of kids. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I just know you would. Wouldn’t you? Brian? Wouldn’t you just love to have more kids? Brian? Brian?”

Brian finally clued in to what Taggart was raving about and turned to look at his gushing jailer with disbelief. The man was certifiable! Here Brian was, thinking about what a bad father he’d been and trying to figure out how to fix it, and this guy was already planning on subjecting him to a whole houseful of more kids? How insane could you get? Of course, he was still trying to be diplomatic in order to win the nutter’s trust and find out more about where Kevan was being kept, so Brian didn’t say anything to either affirm or deny all Tag’s outlandish statements about how much Brian would ‘love it’. Maybe he should have, though, because Brian’s silence allowed Tag to continue down that dangerous path undeterred.

“Besides, I LOVED it when you were pregnant, Brian. You were so adorable with your big, round belly. I don’t think you were ever more beautiful than when you were just about ready to pop. If I had MY way I’d keep you here, barefoot and pregnant forever! *hahaha*” Taggart chattered on, rhapsodising all about how much he wanted to see Brian pregnant again while Brian was getting more and more worried over the direction this new fantasy was heading.

Then, without warning, the younger man got up off the bed where he’d been perched on the edge and sauntered over to where Brian was sitting in the corner armchair. Brian’s stomach gave a sickened lurch at the vampy way the man was moving. He could already tell that whatever was coming next would NOT be good.

Taggart’s smile turned coy as he reached out with one hand to stroke lightly down Brian’s cheek and added, “you know, even though Kevan’s still a little young and I had originally thought we should wait a while, I could be persuaded to change my mind if you wanted to get started on another addition to our little family right now . . . ?”

Brian, who was thoroughly disgusted by the mere idea of this man touching him, let alone going THERE, took one look at the hungry, lustfilled look in his delusional kidnapper’s eyes and promptly threw up the entirety of the three cheese tortellini with cream sauce that he’d been fed for lunch all over the front of Taggart’s shirt.