Brian waited in their usual corner of the patio but had yet to see any sign of Justin. It had been over an hour since he’d arrived. “He’s inside,” Lindsay said, coming up to him. “Why?” Brian asked with a frown. “It’s been a hard week,” Lindsay said. “He’s in quite a mood. I don’t think he’ll come out today, Brian.” “Well, what the hell were you talking to him about?” Brian asked. “That’s confidential,” Lindsay said. “Well, I’m not leaving until I see him,” Brian said. “I thought as much, that’s why I came over.” “Why?” “Justin has spent a long time not talking,” Lindsay explained. “He’s gotten used to it, you understand? Even if he speaks freely now, when he’s upset, he reverts back.” “So, you’re warning me because when I go in there he’s going to be like before?” “Except before he’d be mute but pleasant,” Lindsay said. Brian snickered. He was well acquainted with Justin’s mood swings. “This is really poor timing,” Brian said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What is it?” “I have to tell him that I’ll be out of town next weekend,” Brian admitted. Lindsay shook her head at the bad luck. “Well, whatever you do, you have to keep your schedule. Justin will be more upset to hear you’re holding back on living your life because of him,” Lindsay said. “Are you sure about that?” “Most definitely,” Lindsay said. “He already has concerns that you might pity him. Naturally, with you living your life outside of Liberty, he feels already as if you’ve not on equal ground.” “That’s crazy,” Brian said. Lindsay raised her eyebrows and Brian sighed knowing that it was true. “Fuck.” ......................... Brian stalked quickly through the halls and stopped outside of his old room. He wasn’t sure what he should say or do to lift Justin out of the funk he was in, but after pacing outside the door for several minutes he decided he’d wing it. As soon as he entered the room he spotted Justin lying on his bed, an untouched breakfast tray on the night table beside him. Up until that moment, Brian imagined he might find it in himself to be gentle and understanding. He forgot his plans as soon as he saw Justin. “What the fuck are you doing?” Brian demanded. Justin turned his head and looked back, his expression clearly saying that what he was doing should be plainly obvious. “Out of bed!” Brian said. Justin turned back around to face the wall. “Get up, or I’m dragging you up!” Brian said. Justin ignored him. “You’re acting like a child. Don’t make me count to ten like you’re in preschool,” Brian said. Brian sighed and counted, he reached ten and Justin hadn’t moved. “Fine.” Brian stepped forward, yanked the covers back and grasped Justin under the arms, pulling him up and out of bed as the blond attempted to struggle. “I warned you,” Brian said. “Now are you going to walk with me, or am I going to have to drag you out?” Brian asked. Justin sniffed and his chin shot up in defiance, so Brian harassed Justin out of the room, and pushed and prodded and chivvied and distracted -- sometimes even dragged -- Justin until they were outside, walking in the garden. He badgered and coaxed trying to get Justin to explain the reason for his funk, until finally Brian shrugged. “Fine, you win. I give-up.” “Fuck you!” Justin said. “You can’t just give up!” Brian almost snorted with laughter, but refrained. “Well, I don’t know what else I can do to get you to tell me what’s wrong,” Brian said. “God dammit,” Justin said. “Can’t I have a moment where people aren’t badgering me?” Justin said. “How do you feel Justin? Why aren’t you eating, Justin? What happened, Justin? Tell me about your family, Justin? Give me a break!” Justin plopped down onto the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees. Brian waited a moment before he sat down beside the blond. “So what happened?” Brian asked. “It’s just been a really fucking shitty week. That’s it. That’s all. Just, so fucking shitty,” Justin said. Brian nodded, pulled Gus-bear from his pocket where he’d stuffed him in order to return him to Justin for the week. Perching the stuffed bear on his knee he looked at Justin seriously. “Tell Doctor Gus all your problems.” Justin laughed, which was what Brian had been aiming for, and then shrugged. “Christopher was finally sentenced on Tuesday,” he said. Brian hadn’t known that. He was at the courthouse in the morning because Melanie had requested that he testify, but looking at Christopher sitting there as if he hadn’t a care in the world had tried his anger and so Brian had left as soon as he was able. He’d been surprised to find Emmett there, but not so surprised to see Lindsay. “Lindsay brought in some psych evaluations she’d done, and Emmett told me that now that he knew what he had really been seeing, he remembers the first time Christopher ever --- ever went after me. I got awarded damages, Hobbes as a black mark on his record, and is out some money, and beyond that -- not a whole lot. It’s not enough, but you know. I don’t think anything would feel like enough. No matter what you do to him, he’ll still be the same, still think the same. He could do it again, he could come after me, or someone else.” Brian nodded, and Justin continued. “And Lindsay was completely obsessing about it all week. How did that make me feel? What more could I ask for? And she started drawing parallels between Chris and my dad, and goody, as if just reliving one of those isn’t enough on its own, let’s talk them to death at the same time!” “Nothing like a trip down memory lane,” Brian agreed. “This week’s theme was concentrating on me, on what I did during the attacks. She kept asking me, could I have done more? Could I have done more? -- I don’t know! Could I? Probably. I should have done more. But I just froze, and I couldn’t help it. So I screamed at her that no, I couldn’t. If she thought she could do better then she could go ahead and test how she handled being abused and being molested and being ... which I think was what she was aiming for. But that didn’t occur to me until I’d stormed back to my room, and it just pisses me off. I’m sick of being manipulated like that because I’m so fucking emotional about all of this.” Justin let out his breath and Brian watched as the tension drained from Justin’s body, then the boy dropped his head to the side so he could rest it against Brian’s body. “Hi,” Justin said. “It’s good to have you back.” Brian snickered, and then wrapped an arm around Justin’s shoulders, and they just sat there. Brian knew he didn’t need to give Justin advice, the man knew what he should do, and he just needed somewhere safe to rant about it. Brian was happy that place was with him. ............................. “Well, thank the lord!” Debbie said when Brian and Justin returned to the floor in time for a late dinner. She handed over Justin’s tray and one of the trays they had set aside for visitors, and patted Brian’s cheek. “You did good, kiddo,” she said. “I believe that’s your ‘kiddo’ over there,” Brian said, nodding to where Michael was sitting with Vic and Emmett. Debbie rolled her eyes and smiled. She was like that, Brian had learned to ignore it, or accept it. Either way. Brian had explained that he had to travel to New York for a business meeting, and wouldn’t be back next Saturday. Justin had taken the news much better than Brian had anticipated. “You can’t help that, Brian,” Justin said. “I’m glad things are going well. Just come back the week after, if you can.” Despite the calm in which Justin had received the news, after eating dinner with Emmett and Michael and Vic, Justin tugged on Brian’s sleeve and they headed back to the room. Technically it was time for all visitors to leave, but he’d caught Debbie’s eye on the way and knew he’d be an exception. “Just till I fall asleep,” Justin said, already yawning. Brian didn’t point out the dark smudges under Justin’s eyes, but he settled onto Justin’s bed, taking Gus-bear from the night table where he’d been waiting, and waited until Justin got comfortable. “You’re good at this,” Justin said drowsily. Brian smirked and kissed blond hair. Justin passed-out long before lights-out, but Brian stayed where he was. Finally, unable to ignore the fact that he had to drive home, and it was long-passed time for visitors to have left, Brian extricated himself from Justin’s grip and slipped out of bed, tucking Gus-bear into Justin’s arms before he left. .......................... Brian pulled the blue workbook from the bag he’d left it in and settled onto the sofa. He’d stuffed it away when he first received it, intent on forgetting all about it. He’d pulled it out again when desperation had him searching for any clue that might help him help Justin. Now he was pulling it out again. He had weekly therapy sessions with Doctor Pritchard who had confirmed what Lindsay had once told him, and advised that he concentrate on himself. “It’s easy to do, given how things have worked out,” Erik Pritchard had explained. “If you want to be there for Justin, you have that time available. Tell yourself that Saturdays are for Justin, but the rest of the week is for you.” Brian almost threw a paperweight at the man, but managed to restrain himself. Erik Pritchard, like Lindsay, had a habit of sounding very much like every irritating bad thing Brian had always associated with therapists. Also, like Lindsay, Brian got the sense that this was an act that Erik was putting on. It was likely the reason Lindsay had recommended him specifically. “Don’t think about the future,” Erik advised. “If this pattern changes at some point, naturally you’ll handle this differently, but for now, that’s the schedule. You’re not going to do Justin, or anyone else any good if you haven’t sorted yourself out.” “I’m not in therapy for Justin,” Brian said. “Of course not. But on some level you’re thinking this way,” Erik said. “So this is how to deal with it.” He’d continued on to explain that this was also how to deal with his problem transition from Liberty into a new life. Between a lot of psychobabble bullshit, Erik explained that Brian had to continue to pursue the path he’d been on when he’d been in Liberty, working through his issues. So Brian took out the workbook, and flipped to the first page. Pen in hand, and grimacing only a little, Brian began to acknowledge his past experiences. .............................. The highlight of the week happened on Tuesday when Liberty Hospital received a shipment of new chairs for the nursing staff. Justin and Michael sat on the floor in the hallway and watched the orderlies brining in the new chairs -- colourful, comfortable, and they had wheels. They didn’t even need to exchange a word, they both just understood. They waited for the orderlies to return to their routes, and for the nurses to be distracted, wheeling the chairs to where they wanted them. Justin and Michael eyed the chairs that had been left in the hall while the nurses wheeled one at a time to wherever these chairs were going. Grinning like maniacs, Justin and Michael shot up off the floor, raced each other to the chairs, grabbed one each and proceeded to roll down the hallway. “I’m winning!” Michael declared. Justin laughed, pushed his chair around faster. They lost control, bumped into each other and rolled into a wall before they regained control. “Boys!” Debbie cried. Orderlies returned to the hall to see if their help was needed, but no one had the heart to stop either man. Their laughter filled the hallway as they rolled, until they’d reached the end of the hall. “You could break your necks!” Debbie scolded, but her only response was laughter. “We’re going to have to lock up these damned chairs!” .......................... “I got suspended,” Molly said proudly before Justin had even greeted her. He’d been sitting in his usual place, sketching. Unsure who would come, but hoping that someone would. He’d grown accustomed to having visitors on Saturday, and didn’t want to miss a single week. “What?” Justin asked. “I punched Marvin Haymond in the face because he called Shelley a dyke,” Molly said with a shrug. She leaned over and kissed Justin’s cheek. “Technically I’m grounded, but mom’s at work, and who knows where dad is. If they expect me to sit in my room on my own, they’re crazy.” “They’ll be worried,” Justin said. “Wait, mom works?” “Yeah, she’s a realtor. It pisses dad off, because now she refuses to cook dinner all the time, she insists that they split it equal because she gets home and she’s just as tired as dad is after a long day of work. You should hear them argue about it. Argue about who boils water and dumps noodles in a pot! It’s crazy.” “Are they not getting along?” Justin asked. “As well as they ever did. Mom’s just getting restless. I can’t say I blame her,” Molly said. “Why didn’t you tell me Saint James was full of homophobic pricks?” “You never asked me, I would have told you not to go,” Justin said with a smirk. They ignored the fact that when Molly had decided to switch schools, Justin hadn’t been talking, and he hadn’t seen his family in two years. “Fuck, so much for smart decisions. At least it will look good for college. I mean, Saint James is prestigious,” Molly said. Justin berated her for using violence and getting suspended. Then he nudged her shoulder, “You hit him pretty hard, right?” “Yeah,” Molly said with a grin, smiling again after the minor chastisement. “I broke his nose.” Justin snickered and threw an arm around her shoulder. There were times that Molly missed her brother so much it was a physical pain. This was one of those times. “You’re my favouritest,” she said in a child’s lisp, like she used to do when they were kids. Justin threw his head back and laughed, Molly closed her eyes and savoured the sound. ------------------------ End Chapter Three: