Chapter 35 - Happy Returns.

Kevan was waiting for The Silly One to warm up his bottle full of gunk when all of a sudden the crazy person thing started screeching and running around. It almost scared the doo doo out of Kevan. He was not used to his people things acting out like that, especially not right before lunch. What was The Silly One thinking?

The next thing Kevan knew, they were flying around the house and then he was practically tossed through the air without any warning. Kevan was too startled to even cry out. Thankfully, he landed in The Papa’s strong arms. Goodness! That Silly One was just out of control today, Kevan thought reproachfully.

But that wasn’t the last of the shocks he was subjected to that morning.

Before he’d fully recovered from his almost fall, Kevan heard the big, deep voice of another person thing. A voice he remembered from somewhere. Before he’d even looked at the person thing that brought the voice, he felt happy just from hearing the mouth sounds it made. And when he turned to follow the voice, Kevan saw HIM.

Kevan stared at HIM. There was just something about HIM . . . The little boy couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but HE was so familiar. The soft-looking brown stuff on his head, the shape of his face, the happily crooked smiling lips. Kevan just knew he knew HIM.

Then there was that voice again and HE said the ‘Sonny Boy’ sound, causing some dormant synapse inside Kevan’s baby brain to connect. And then Kevan remembered!

HE was the one who called Kevan, ‘Sonny Boy’. Nobody else ever used the ‘Sonny Boy’ sounds. It was their special thing. HE was the Sonny Boy One and Kevan knew that HE always made Kevan feel good. The more HE made the deep rumbly sounds, the more excited Kevan became. Those rumbly sounds reminded him of all the times HE had held Kevan. All the times he’d spent in the dark of the pretty green and brown room, sitting together in the big brown chair talking and how HE always made Kevan's tummy happy and warm.

“Blah blah blah blah, Sonny Boy. Blah blah, Daddy! Blah blah blah, Daddy, Sonny Boy!” The happy rumbly voice said again . . . and another connection in his brain fused.

HE was THE DADDY! Oh yeah, Kevan remembered now! The Daddy was great. The Daddy always smelled so nice and he was strong and big but soft too and he made Kevan happy all the time. Kevan was so happy to see The Daddy. He smiled at The Daddy. He giggled at The Daddy. He wiggled with happiness.

And then The Daddy was holding him. Oh joy! And even if The Daddy didn't smell exactly like he remembered, still it was close enough. Kevan was ecstatic! He really wanted The Daddy to know how great it was to have him back . . . How did you do that again? Oh, yeah, now Kevan remembered - whenever The Daddy was particularly happy he would put his mouth up against Kevan's cheek. That was always a nice thing.  Kevan could do that.  

So Kevan did the mouth touching thing. The Daddy seemed to like it. He smiled at Kevan and made more rumbly noises. And everything was right in the universe again!

But wait . . . Where the doo doo had The Daddy been all this time anyway? Hmmm . . .

As soon as the WVSP Trooper had pulled Justin away from the kickboxing target otherwise known as Taggart, the tireless twink turned his whole attention back towards Brian. This new subject of Justin's passion welcomed his blond back with open arms. Before the growing crowd of gaping police personnel knew what was happening, Justin had climbed up the Tower of Brian and begun to assiduously apply his lips to every piece of bare skin he could reach. Brian was just as busy with his own brand of lip service. Neither man had any attention to spare for anything going on around them. All that the reunited pair cared about was the overwhelming need to physically reconnect, each making sure over and over again that the other was really there and in one piece.

Commander Jonas eventually shooed all his men off to start on the work of securing the property and gathering evidence. Detective Horvath, who had no jurisdiction in West Virginia and therefore no job at the moment, sat down on a nearby couch and propped his foot up on the coffee table. And, while the amiable detective wasn't precisely offended by the sight of the two men going at each other, he wasn't exactly comfortable watching it either. But since there wasn't really any way to avoid seeing the couple standing in the middle of the room - who now seemed to be trying to eat each other alive - all Carl could do was lean back and try to focus on the ceiling instead.

“You really should stop them before too much longer,” the booming baritone of Zavi The Hulk advised as the big man entered the room and came to a standstill next to the detective’s couch. “It looks to me like they're about to get to the part where significant items of clothing begin to disappear, and trust me, after they reach that stage, it'll be too late.”

Horvath let his gaze flit briefly down from the ceiling onto the pair standing there groping each other and nodded. “You may be right. Mind doing the honors for me though? I think I sprained my fucking ankle kicking in the door to rescue Kinney. Damned dead bolts . . .”

Zavi chortled as the detective muttered another curse aimed at locked doors everywhere and stepped over to do the policeman’s bidding. “Hey, Brian! You two gonna come up for air any time soon? I think you're scaring the straight guy over there!”

“Zavi! Good to see you, man! What the fuck are you doing here?” Brian answered, detaching from the blond’s well-kissed, bubblegum pink lips when he heard the familiar voice.

“You hired me to guard the Twink and the Tyke, so that's what I've been doing,” Zavi answered, grinning with his huge gold-toothed grin at his old friend. “It's good to see you too, by the way! You okay?”

That last question finally pulled Justin back to the present moment. “Shit! Brian, I'm sorry. I didn't even ask - you are okay, right? I didn't mean to practically attack you before you got a chance to say two words. He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“You didn't hear me complaining about the welcome, did you, Sunshine?” Brian replied, cupping Justin's cheek with the palm of his hand and smiling down at the man he'd been missing for too long. “But, no. He didn't hurt me. Just drugged me till I was totally out of my mind half the time. But I think I'll be okay now.”

“Did you say he drugged you?” Horvath was interested in the conversation now.

“Yeah. Until about five days ago, he had me so doped up I didn't really know what was happening,” Brian explained. “Then one morning I caught him dropping a pill in my drink and after that I quit drinking any thing he'd give me. I think he was still dosing my food somewhat, but at least that wasn't enough to turn me back into a total zombie. When I came to myself, I confronted him and was going to bust out of here, but that's when he told me he had Kevan and if I left I'd never find my son again. So I agreed to stay. I was still trying to figure out some way to convince him to let Kevan go when you guys showed up. I can't believe the fucker lied to me and I actually bought it!”

“Don't be too tough on yourself, Kinney. Depending on what kind of drugs he was giving you, it's not surprising that your judgment was affected along with your perceptions. Didn't you say earlier that you thought you even saw the baby?” asked Horvath, making notes in a pocket-sized notebook as Brian spoke.

“Yeah. It was during the time I was heavily drugged. I . . . Shit! I still don't know how he did it, but I could swear I remember Taggart bringing Kevan to me in that room where he had me locked up. I remember holding my son in my arms . . . It still seems real.”

“I can assure you that Kevan's safe at home. I just got off the phone with Rez,” Zavi informed them. “He and Lev are at the house with Emmett and they're all looking after your little man. He’ll be there waiting for you when you get home.”

“Home . . . Shit, that sounds so fucking good,” Brian shook his head, wondering when he’d become the kind of guy who cared about the concept of ‘home’, and then immediately told his internal censor to shut the fuck up because he could be a ‘home’ kind of guy if wanted to be. “How the fuck long have I been gone, anyway? I have no idea how long I’ve even been trapped in this shithole.”

“It’s March 25th,” Justin answered, biting his lip worriedly because he wasn’t sure how Brian was going to take this news. “You’ve been missing since the 7th. About two and a half weeks.”

“Fuck!” Brian dropped down onto the couch next to Horvath and scrubbed at his face with his left hand. With his right hand he reached out and grabbed Justin again, pulling the boy towards him and then settling the trim young man on his lap because, even though he was reeling at the implications of what he’d just heard, he didn’t want to be separated from Justin for even a second. “Fuck! That means he kept me doped up for almost a full two weeks. That fucking bastard. What a nutcase!”

“I’m curious, Kinney,” Horvath interjected with keen interest, now that they seemed to be moving on to more substantive matters. “How the hell did that little guy manage to kidnap you in the first place? You’ve got a half a foot in height and at least twenty five pounds on him and you’re not in bad shape. I wouldn’t think he’d have a chance unless he held you at gunpoint.”

“I actually don’t really remember much,” Brian confessed, feeling a bit ashamed that he’d let himself get captured, especially after the way the detective had outlined the situation. “I can just barely remember getting into Pittsburgh. I was fucking exhausted - it had been a long flight with a ridiculously long delay when I had to transfer planes in Atlanta and I was still a little hungover from an unfortunate drinking bout the night before . . .” Brian looked over at Justin and hesitated, but decided that now was not the time for THAT discussion. “Anyway, that’s where it starts to get all hazy. I remember some guy coming up to me and saying that my office had ordered a car service for me - which was odd, because I didn’t tell Cynthia when I was coming in. And then . . . I remember getting into the car but I was half asleep already . . . there was a mini-fridge console built into the back of the car and I think I grabbed a water or something . . . and that’s all I remember. After that it’s just a blur for the next however-many-days until I caught on to the drug thing.”

“We saw pictures from the airport security cameras. It was your stalker, Taggart, driving the car you got in. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it was him,” Zavi commented. “But, then again, if you were that tired, you probably just weren’t paying attention. I wonder who the other guy was though? The one who helped you get your bags.”

“No clue. I do remember him pretty clearly and I'm sure I had never seen that guy before,” Brian assured everyone.

“My guess is that he was just some random guy that Morgan paid to wear a hat and hold up a sign,” Horvath surmised.

Before the detective could ask any further questions about Brian's recollections, Junior came galloping down the stairs and trotted up to Horvath. “Excuse me, Sir. Commander Jonas wanted me to tell you that the house is secure.”

“Thanks, Trooper.”

“I’m afraid there’s more, Sir. There’s a room up there . . . Well, I think you should just come see for yourself, Sir.”

Horvath got stiffly up off the couch and hobbled up the stairs. Brian and Justin looked at each other and then, without bothering to ask permission, followed the older man. Zavi, not wanting to be left out of the party, brought up the rear. At the top of the stairs there was a short hallway with three doors. The one at the end was ajar and obviously led to the master bedroom. The first door on the right, also open, was a small bathroom. The other doorway was where all the activity was happening, though, so that’s where they all headed.

Jonas, the tall and well-built WVSP Commander was standing in the doorway. “You may not want to see this, gentlemen,” he warned as soon as he saw that Brian and Justin were headed his way.

Brian stood his ground and simply stared the trooper down until Jonas stepped aside. As soon as the large man was no longer blocking the way, the group gathered around the doorway could see exactly why the man thought it necessary to warn the two victims. The wall directly across from the door was covered from floor to ceiling with pictures and other paraphernalia, so densely packed that there wasn’t even a single bare inch of wall space that wasn’t covered. There were even pictures on the areas behind the small couch pushed up against the wall. On closer inspection, it wasn’t really surprising to note that all the pictures were of Brian, Justin and Kevan.

A peek around the doorjamb confirmed that the decorating scheme for the rest of the room was the same. Every single wall was covered in a similar fashion. There were candid shots that looked like they were taken with a cell phone and printed out on a computer. There were polaroids. There were several carefully developed photos - these looking like they were almost professionally done. Intermixed with the photographs were pictures cut out from magazines and newspapers. There were copies of articles about Brian from various media sources. There were printed pictures that must have come off the internet or from social media sites, some that even had Brian photoshopped into various places he’d never even been. There were also a LOT of photos of Brian from that little yellow room downstairs, adorned in all the various outfits that Taggart had dressed him in while he was drugged out.

Centered on the right hand wall there was even one large framed picture. It was the Armani ad from the inside cover of the first GQ issue where Brian had come out about his pregnancy. And it was signed in Brian's own handwriting. Written in Silver marker right across the picture it said, ‘To Taggart, BAK’. Brian remembered that day so long ago when a fresh faced twink had come up to him while he was hanging out in the Diner and asked him for his autograph. He groaned at the memory, as well as everything that had come after.

Besides the walls full of creepy photos, there was very little else in the room. There was the one well-used couch, a desk in the corner with a state of the art computer and printer and, in the other corner, a baby crib. Brian knew he probably shouldn’t, but he simply had to go see what was in that crib.

The crib was set up with the regular sort of crib sheets and bumpers. There was a small pillow at one end of the mattress and a lump in the middle covered by a small baby quilt. Brian reached in and pulled back the edge of the quilt, recoiling almost immediately at what he saw hiding underneath. Brian even retreated a couple of steps until he backed into Justin’s rock solid little body.

“What the fuck!” Justin apparently wasn’t so easily frightened. The blond reached in, threw the quilt back all the way and stared down at the creepiest doll that any of them had ever seen. It was about the size that a real six month old baby would be. The face looked almost alive, only not. The eyes of the doll were closed and somehow not the right shape. But other than that it looked uncannily a little like Kevan.

“Hmmm. Well, I’d say that explains your drugged up memories of holding your son,” Horvath summed up what everyone was thinking. “Seems like this Taggart guy is one totally fucked up psychopath. I smell an ‘Insanity’ defense coming up.” Then, without another word, the detective put a hand on Brian’s biceps, and gently moved the stunned and unresisting man out of the room, his blond protector trailing closely behind.

Luckily, there was a conveniently placed bathroom right down the hall when Brian came out of his stupor just enough to get violently sick to his stomach. He ran for the toilet and promptly emptied out the remnants of last night’s dinner that hadn’t already been thrown up earlier in the day. Justin stood by, rubbing Brian’s back and handing him a glass of water as soon as the worst was past.

“Well, on that note,” Horvath announced from where he was waiting in the hallway outside the little bathroom, “I think it’s high time to get you to the hospital and have you checked out by a doctor.”

“Yeah . . . I think that’s not a bad idea,” Brian agreed, quickly enough that Justin was now the one shocked into silence, since his partner hated hospitals and would never agree to go unless things were really, really bad.

Which was what they were all afraid of.

The next order of business that morning was the trip back to Pittsburgh, ending up at Allegheny General Hospital. Horvath escorted them straight back to the ER where a doctor was already waiting for them. Brian tried to go in alone, but Justin simply refused to let go of his hand and, in the end, Brian decided that he really didn't want to be alone no matter how much more embarrassing it would be to have Justin with him.

Brian was pleasantly surprised, though, at how quickly the doctor visit was over. They were seen by an efficient and no-nonsense Nurse Practitioner - an older lady who treated Brian kindly but who wasn't overly demonstrative about her concern either. That, in Brian's mind, was the perfect approach to such an inherently difficult situation.

The nurse took blood and urine samples in order to run a tox screen for whatever drugs had been used on him. She also clipped off a small lock of Brian's hair, explaining that the types of drugs most likely used in this situation didn't stay in the victim's system very long but could sometimes still be found built up in the hair follicles, especially if they'd been given in large doses over a longer period of time. Brian specifically asked that the lab run a full STD panel as well, which the nurse agreed was a good precaution.

Which then brought them to the whole issue of exactly what might have happened to Brian during the almost two weeks when he couldn't remember anything. The nurse offered to do a complete rape kit on Brian but agreed that it wasn't likely they'd recover any usable samples even if something had happened. Brian had already assured everyone that he hadn't let Taggart anywhere near him for at least the past five days, which meant they were well outside the seventy-two hour window for obtaining DNA evidence. The nurse did persuade him to let her do a brief physical exam though, just to be safe.

Before they started with that though, Brian was asked a series of questions detailing what he did remember about his captivity. He felt Justin's hand tighten supportively around his own fingers when he disclosed the part about Taggart undressing him, touching him and sleeping next to him. Then came the sticky question about what consensual sexual activities he'd engaged in during or right before he was taken. Brian only hesitated a half a second before answering, quickly determining that this was as good a time as any for him to fess up to Justin about the guy in Cancun. He didn't give out any details - he still wasn't ready for THAT discussion - only that he'd had sex with someone while there. Justin's grip on Brian's hand again tightened perceptibly at the revelation, but he didn't say anything and he didn't move away from Brian’s side. Brian wanted to believe that was a good sign.

Next the nurse performed a short visual examination and, finally, a rectal exam. Brian's joke that he'd never had that done to him by a woman before, only just barely masked the anxiety he was feeling. Thankfully it was all over very quickly and the nurse confirmed that everything looked fine. Brian showed no signs of injuries or tearing and while he was sporting a few older bruises on his back, there wasn't anything that could be conclusively tied to a sexual assault. Of course, that didn't mean that nothing had happened earlier in Brian's captivity, just that there was no longer any evidence of it. Before she left, the nurse again recommended that Brian get counseling. Not that Brian intended to follow that advice.  

“So . . . How pissed off at me are you?” Brian asked his still-silent blond as soon as he was dressed - he was too nervous to wait any longer to hear what his fate would be.

“I'm not angry, Brian!” Justin insisted right away. “None of this is your fault. You had no control over what that maniac, Taggart, did to you.”

“Not that. I meant the other . . . The guy in Cancun,” Brian pressed, leaning back against the edge of the exam table in the tiny room and scrutinizing Justin's face carefully for a moment, then quickly looking away again.

Justin sighed, bit his bottom lip and then moved so that he could once again grab Brian's hands. He could see Brian already building up walls and raising his shields, preparing for the rejection and hurt that he thought was inevitable. He was so sure of the negative response he was going to get, he refused to even meet Justin's gaze.

Justin shook his head. He could never hurt Brian like that. Never. He wondered, though, when - or if - Brian would ever finally trust him.

“Well . . . I can't say I'm exactly thrilled by that news, but I can't say I didn't expect it either.” Brian raised his brow questioningly, finally looking the younger man in the eye. Once he had Brian's attention, Justin went on to explain. “Brian, I knew when you left that night - the way that you left - that's what you planned. Yeah, it hurts a little, but that doesn't change the fact that I still love you. And, after everything else that's happened . . . The ONLY thing that's important right now is that I got you back, safely, from that lunatic. Everything else . . . We’ll work it out. Somehow. But not now. Right now I just want to take you home. Okay?”

“Justin, I . . .”

“Shhh. Whatever it is, it can wait, Brian,” Justin insisted, pressing two fingers against Brian's lips to hush him. “Now, come on. There's a short, chubby little brunet waiting for you at home who's gonna be thrilled to see his Daddy again. So let's find Horvath, make sure he's done with us and then get the hell out of here.”

“Brian! Eeeeee!”

The squealing that greeted them when they finally came through the door of Britin’s Chapel just before noon was, surprisingly, issued by the supposed adult rather than the child that was waiting inside. Emmett came running out of the kitchen, a startled Kevan in his arms, as soon as the front door was closed. The tall, gangly man practically jumped Brian, who just barely managed to brace himself before the impact. Thankfully, Justin managed to grab the baby out of the excited manny’s grip right before the child was permanently flattened by being caught up in the enthusiastic hug Em gave his returned employer and friend.

“Honeycutt. I don't remember ever agreeing to become the kind of friends who hug or slobber all over each other,” Brian complained as he peeled Emmett’s arms from around his neck and cringed away from the kiss left on his cheek.

“I’m just so tickled pink to see you, Brian, that I won’t even yell at you for calling me ‘Honeycutt’,” Emmett gushed and then just HAD to hug Brian one more time even though the big guy was still scowling at him. “Oh, it’s just sooooo good to have you back. Baby here has been going crazy with worry about you. Are you okay? Did that stalker guy hurt you? Did he keep you tied up in some horrible, moldy old basement and go all Hannibal Lecter on you or anything. You weren’t ordered to rub lotion on yourself or anything, were you? And you still have all your body parts, right?”

“Fuck, Emmy Lou! You watch way too much fucking television. Of course I still have all my fucking body parts. Where the fuck do you come up with this shit!” Brian batted away his friend’s arms when it looked like he was at risk of a third hug and then moved so that he was standing slightly behind Justin in order to give himself some protection against ongoing displays of affection.

“Movies. I watch too many movies not television. And are you telling me you never saw ‘Silence of the Lambs’? Emmett asked, distracted from his welcoming of the prodigal Brian . . . which just might have been Brian’s plan all along.

“As much as I desperately missed you while I was gone, Honeycutt, there’s someone else I really want to hug more,” Brian turned around and looked over to where Justin was holding Kevan. “Hey there, Sonny Boy. Did you miss Daddy? Or did you completely forget me while I was gone? Hmmm?”

The entire time Brian and Emmett had been talking, Kevan had been staring at Brian so intently that he barely blinked. And, contrary to the usually garrulous little tyke’s more common behavior, the baby hadn't issued a single sound the whole time. Justin had been watching the infant's face as he listened with rapt attention to Brian's voice, his little face actually lighting up whenever his daddy spoke. Then, when Brian turned and focused his attention on his son, Kevan turned his head away, burying his face in Justin's shoulder for a moment before looking back and fluttering his long, dark eyelashes at Brian.

“You don't want to come to Daddy?” Brian held out his hands towards the baby, but Kevan shyly turned away, again hiding in the crook of his Papa’s neck for a few moments before shooting another coy little smile at the waiting brunet.

“Shit! Maybe Sonny Boy really doesn't remember me,” Brian said, looking to Justin as if to ask what he should do.

“Uh uh. I think he remembers just fine,” Justin replied, smiling down at the little boy who was wriggling excitedly even though he wasn't looking at his father yet. “Say something else, Brian. Call his name. I think I know what's going on.”

“Okay . . . Come on, Sonny Boy. You're not afraid of Daddy, are you? Hey, Kevan! Kevan! Look over here, Sonny boy!” Brian cooed at his son.

The three men all watched in fascination as the infant would look over timidly every time Brian said his name or called him ‘Sonny Boy’. And then, each time, he’d look away again but with a lingering smile on his angelic face. Along with the smiles, there was more eyelash batting, more wiggling and even a quiet giggle or two. It was like a game, or something.

“Oh my word! He's flirting with you, Brian!” Emmett exclaimed when he finally figured it out. “Your son’s not even seven months old and he's a total flirt! It must be genetic!”

After one more round of coquettish looks and hesitant smiles - all of which elicited laughter from the three adults - Kevan stretched out one chubby little arm towards his daddy, still looking away flirtatiously, and giggling.

“That's so fucking adorable, I think I'm in danger of growing ovaries!” Emmett gushed again, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Hell! Butch up a bit, Honeycutt! I'm the one who actually HAS ovaries - or at least the next best, most masculine, equivalent thereto - and you don't see me getting all moist,” Brian chided, although his own doting smile betrayed exactly how much he agreed with the sentiment.

“He may have my sunshiney smile but that's definitely the Kinney charm,” Justin agreed wholeheartedly, almost as teary as Em despite trying to hold it back manfully for Brian's sake. “Here, take him, Brian, before I succumb to the adorableness too.”

Brian reached for his coyly grinning and endearingly giggling son. Kevan was so excited to see his daddy and was wiggling so madly now that he was near, that he almost wiggled right out of Justin's arms. Brian managed to get one arm under Kevan’s diapered bottom and the hand of his other arm along Kevan’s back for additional support, bringing him close to his body. The long absent father was immediately engulfed by the feel and scent of his son. The sense of peace that overcame him at that moment was exactly what Brian needed to wash away all the remaining anxiety from his ordeal. Now that he had his son back in his arms, he felt like he was finally home for real.

“Hey, Sonny Boy. Daddy’s home and he is so happy to see you.” Brian spoke softly, causing Kevan to wiggle and bobble in his daddy’s arms even more energetically. In the process, the happy child managed to tip over, planting his wide open mouth against Brian’s jaw and giving his daddy what appeared to be a big, sloppy, wet kiss to his stubbly chin. As the baby bounced a bit more, arms and legs flailing, his pudgy baby hands made contact with Brian’s cheeks as if in a patting motion of greeting.

“Did you see that? Sonny Boy gave his daddy a big fat juicy kiss.” Brian enthused to the other two men, who were both clearly affected by this emotional reunion. “Granted, his technique needs a little work, but he’s got the idea at least. You’re gonna be just like your old man when you grow up, aren’t you, Sonny Boy!” The groaning that met this statement caused Brian to shoot a killing look at his friends. “Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery! He could do a lot worse you guys, and you know it.” Then the doting daddy redirected his attention back to the only boy in the room that mattered at that moment. “Come on, Sonny Boy. Let’s sit down and get reacquainted for a bit and I can tell you all about flirting and kissing and how to get any boy you want . . .”

“Ma! Ma, come listen to the message that stupid little twink put on Brian’s voicemail. The nerve of that kid! Really. Here, listen,” Michael insisted, putting his phone on speaker mode as he strode into the Diner and setting the cell on the counter in front of his mother.

“Hi! You’ve reached Justin and Brian . . . Yes, I did say ‘AND BRIAN’. You weren’t hearing things. He’s home and he’s okay. And no, you don’t need to talk to us to confirm it. We don’t intend to answer the phone right now, and probably won’t be answering any time in the next day or two either, so you might as well give up calling now. No matter how many times you call or leave a message, we WON’T be calling you back till we’re good and fucking ready. This doesn’t mean you should come by, instead - you will not be allowed onto the property. The Hulk Brothers have very specific orders that they are NOT to allow ANYONE to visit. They have also been warned that, if they fail to follow these orders, I will  personally castrate every single member of their family with a rusty palette knife. (Brian’s voice in the background.) He’s totally serious, guys. Trust me, you don’t want to make Justin angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry. (Justin's voice again.) You’re supposed to be in bed, Brian. Get moving! I don’t want to have to tell you again . . . So, anyway, if you want to leave a message at the beep go ahead, but we’ll probably just delete it. Bye! . . . *Beep*”

“Can you believe that? He’s so fucking rude! I mean, really, he can’t just keep Brian away from his family like this. It’s not right. Especially after all we did to help find him . . .” Michael was already ranting, and building up to an even bigger rant than usual, when suddenly a wad of paper napkins was shoved into his wide open mouth.

Michael spun around to look at whoever had dared to accost him in such a manner, only to find Emmett Honeycutt standing behind him, his arms crossed and an unhappy glare issuing from the usually kind blue eyes.

“Michael Charles Novotny . . . what have we talked about concerning your penchant for spouting off in public about Brian’s business? Hmm?” Emmett addressed the muzzled man reproachfully. “Did you not promise me just a few days ago that you would NEVER AGAIN gossip about Brian or shout out information about him in front of every queer on Liberty Avenue? I’m not sure if you just have long-term memory problems, Michael, or if you’re unclear on the concept of what constitutes ‘Brian’s business’, but either way, let me remind you right now. What you were just doing is considered ‘gossip’. And anything to do with Justin or how Brian and Justin interact together is ‘Brian’s Business’, not yours. Oh, and if you’re also unclear on the concept of what's ‘public’ and what's not, the Diner definitely qualifies as a ‘public place’.” Michael had stopped sputtering behind his wad of napkins by this point and was looking decidedly abashed. “Now, is it safe to remove this gag, or do you need a longer ‘Time Out’?”

“If you ask me, I’d leave it in. Michael will be safer that way,” Debbie chuckled as she bustled past with a tray full of lunch orders. “A couple of my regulars who are cops were in here earlier and talking about the way Justin went off on the stalker when they caught the guy. I think they were all scared shitless by the kid. It seems my sweet little Sunshine went completely apeshit and kicked some serious ass this morning! And I don’t think Michael wants to take on the likes of what the police are calling ‘The Twinkie Terror’. Hah!”

Michael opened his mouth, pulled out the wedge of saliva drenched napkins and turned as if to confront the pair of laughing hyenas otherwise known as Deb and Em. But, after staring at them for a full sixty seconds, Michael sighed, tossed the napkin gag on the counter and stalked out of the building. The echoes of of his mother and friend’s laughter followed him all the way out the door and down the block.