Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 27 - Part I

(Setting: Tuesday, Third Week of July; Flight Enroute from Ibiza to Pittsburgh; POV/Brian)

I looked at Danny. He'd pulled a rosary out from somewhere and had been fingering it compulsively since shortly after the plane had taken off, his lips moving silently as he stared moodily out the window. So much for the model Episcopalian boy. Danny may have left the smells and bells, and Hail Marys behind more than a decade ago, but when times got tough, he still reached for a rosary. Although I was far from a good Catholic myself, I'd felt a similar impulse when Mikey got hurt in the bombing last year. It was what had sent me in search of the hospital chapel during that long night as we waited for word on Mikey's condition. I'd been looking for a connection to a higher power that I hadn't felt since I was an altar boy myself.

I couldn't recall the last time I'd used a rosary. It was my grandmother who taught me the prayers, sitting patiently with me as a very small boy, explaining that each bead was a placekeeper for a prayer. I sailed through catechism class thanks to my grandmother's tutelage on the faith; it certainly wasn't the nuns' harsh lessons that stuck with me. It never would have occurred to St. Joan to give me one from my grandmother's rosaries when she passed, although thinking of it now, it would have been a nice memento of her. My every memory of my grandmother included her holding one of her many rosaries, and her lips moving, much as Danny's did now, as she rocked her final years away, crippled by arthritis. She was one of the few people I could think of from my childhood whose face always lit up to see me, and she delighted in stories of how school was doing. The smallest minutia of my life was of interest to her. I twisted my mouth bitterly, thinking of the vast difference between my maternal grandmother's gentle faith and my mother's fanaticism.

In the window's reflection, Danny saw my expression and looked down to see what I was staring at. The sight of his hand holding the rosary seemed to catch him by surprise. He gave me a warning look.

"Please don't say anything. You don't have to. I already know what you think of religion. Stupid, superstitious..."

I placed my hand over his.

"It isn't that. I was just battling some personal demons. If saying the rosary makes you feel better...."

He laughed humorlessly. "You'll indulge my weakness for the opiate of the masses, Bri? I never cease to be amazed by your tolerance for my flaws."

I leaned down and kissed him briefly. "You're wrong. And I'm not the bad guy here, Danny. At least not at the moment. It won't help to lash out at me, trust me, I've tried that trick often enough myself to know it doesn't work. So don't push me away, let me try to help, even if I say the wrong fucking thing." I closed my hand over his, rosary and all. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. I could tell he was trying to calm down. After a moment, he turned his hand around in mine and squeezed, then rubbed his thumb caressingly over my palm, the calluses from his guitar playing contrasting with the smoothness of the rosary beads. His resonant voice was pitched low, for my ears only; the slight trace of his parents' Irish accent was audible, as it always was when he didn't have full control over his emotions.

"I'm sorry. You're being great and I don't know what I'd do if you decided you're sick of this temper of mine. In truth, I feel somewhat foolish and superstitious clinging to a strand of pretty beads. I know I don't need them to pray. But sometimes the ritual is a comfort. They take me back to a simpler time, when you could confess your sins to the priest on Saturday afternoon and all was forgiven with a few Hail Mary's before Sunday. Life was easy then." Danny nudged my shoulder with his head. "I don't know about you, but about the time I had anything really worth confessing, I stopped going. I just couldn't get up the nerve to tell the Father I was lusting in me heart, much less who I was lusting after."

I put my arm around him and bent my head close to whisper in his ear. "Well, if it was Fr. Tim, you might have found out you had something in common. Did he ever serve in your parish? He served in my bath house." I felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders as he laughed softly. I ran my fingers over the smooth green marble beads from which hung a beautifully crafted silver crucifix.

"It's a lovely rosary. Was it your mother's?" Danny shook his head and placed the rosary in my palm so I could look at it more closely.

"It belonged to Gram Feeney, Mama's mama. She gave it to Angel when the two of us visited her in Ireland after doing a fashion show together in London one spring. I guess I was nineteen, so Angel was around twenty-four. Gram Feeney was getting old, fuck, she wasn't getting old, she was old. Must have been close to ninety. We hadn't seen her more than a handful of times in our lives, being among the 'foreign born' grandchildren. But she took to Angel right off. Kept saying Angel was almost as beautiful as she'd been. Then she always laughed and added, 'almost as wild, too,' and she'd launch into another outrageous story of mischief she'd got up to when she was young. Mama would've died of embarrassment if she'd ever heard these stories. Angel said it explained why Mama and Dad emigrated."

He peered at me from under his long lashes. "The stories those two would tell each other had me blushing, Bri, and I thought I'd seen quite a bit of the wild side meself by then. Had me covering me ears, I tell you, but Angel, she was howling and begging for more. When we left, Gram gave Angel this rosary. Angel asked her, teasingly, whether it was to keep her a good girl. Gram replied, in her tart way, that she thought it was a darn sight too late for that, but a rosary was a good thing to have around for the tough times that come to everyone, good and bad alike."

Danny was quiet, smiling gently at the memory, before adding, "We never saw her again. She died that October."

Seeing his pensive face, I almost said something inane like, "Well, she lived to a good old age, saw her children grown and their children...." So fucking Irish. But I remembered Joey telling me years ago that Rose's mother had been widowed young, saw two of her sons die in World War II and watched stoically as her two daughters and youngest son emigrated to the United States. The old lady had come on visits to the U.S. and Rose and her siblings visited her with their families when money permitted, but old Mrs. Feeney had not lived out her golden years surrounded by family. I suspected that strong willed Mama Rose had not gotten along all that wonderfully with her equally strong willed mother. When I see Danny hurting, I sometimes think I should channel Mikey, and say something comforting, instead of being my usual asshole self. Yet, what always comforted me most were those few occasions when Mikey would give silent support when I was upset, like after my dad died. I reached for Danny's hand and clasped it, the rosary beads interwoven between our fingers. He stared down at it as he continued to talk.

"When the paramedics found Angel's body, they said she was clutching this rosary. John had convinced her to do a will after the baby was born, telling her that it was her responsibility to name a guardian, especially since there was no father. Thank God she listened to him for once. In typical Angel fashion, she left behind a one paragraph will, which, along with leaving her residuary estate in trust for Briana, stated that she was leaving me the only things she had that were of any real value, her daughter and Gram Feeney's rosary. She wrote that she was naming me as Briana's guardian because I was the only one she trusted not to treat her kid like a demon spawn bastard, and the rosary because I would need it, raising her demon spawn bastard child on my own."

Danny looked up at me. "Angel always did have an odd sense of humor. As you probably can tell, Mama wasn't the first O'Keefe to go outside the family for their lawyer needs. She had some lawyer she fucked a few times write it out for her one night at a club, and then they got it witnessed and he notarized it. It was rather unorthodox, but it was legal, much to John's annoyance."

I was a little surprised. "Wasn't your mother named as guardian as well?"

He shook his head. "No. That was just what we told the family. I immediately changed my own will to appoint my mother and Mary Pat as Briana's guardians in the event of my death, and with John's help created all sorts of powers of attorney and trustee positions, everything we could to give the two of them authority. After Dad died, as soon as John could quietly arrange it, a judge who was a family friend helped us have Mama formally named as co-guardian with me. I waited as I couldn't go against Angel's wishes while Dad was alive and have him named as one of Briana's guardians, and Mama didn't want to be named without him. In the interim, though, I was nervous about being a gay man raising a little girl whose parentage was being questioned by every queer in New York City. That asshole Emmett brought to Debbie's dinner wasn't the first to practically accuse me of incest, as I acted more like her father from the beginning than Angel acted like a mother. There was a lot of ugly gossip at the time. Some of it lingers."

There wasn't much to say to that. I always figured that if Danny wanted to discuss Briana's father with me, he would. I knew it wasn't me, and I was damn sure it wasn't him. If Em's former, unlamented boyfriend's information was correct, and there was no fallen soldier friend of Luke's who fathered the child, that did seem to point the finger at the crazy billionaire, which pretty much left Edward Simon holding the cigar. I felt chilled as I remembered that Baines had called Simon a rapist. Danny had never said Angel was coerced by Simon, indicating that she had willingly, if stupidly, had an affair off and on with the man for years. So, if Simon were a rapist, who was his victim? Or victims? Maybe Danny's reluctance to ever bottom had its roots in something darker than a romantic wish that I be his first? But if Luke hadn't made a timely rescue of Danny from Simon after that kidnapping years ago, would Simon still be so obsessed with him? I also couldn't see Danny lying to me about something like that. Unless he blocked it out, a little voice in my head whispered.

Danny was talking again and I forced my train of thought away from the disturbing direction it had taken and pulled him closer to me, for mutual comfort. It was as though he had a compulsive need to get all of this out to me now. After waiting so long for him to open up like this, I couldn't let myself get distracted, although thoughts of Simon's attack and whether he had in fact raped Danny were troubling me a great deal. Was that why Briana's own mother called her a devil's spawn? With a father like Simon, it would be hard for even a mother to get past that contribution to the gene pool. Look at what a hard time Mel had with me being Gus's biological father, and without flattering myself, I was a far cry from being the monster Edward Simon was. Danny looked me in the eye, and it was as though he could read my thoughts.

"I don't know who Briana's real father is, Bri. I'd tell you if I did. I've had my suspicions, make that my gut wrenching fears. Luke confronted Angel over it. I never did because I was afraid of the answer. But Angel insisted Edward wasn't the father, although she never did hate him as we did, and she wouldn't tell us who was. She also was worried that Edward would make a claim for custody, realizing that if he thought he could use Briana as a pawn, he would. So she must have known he would have reason to think it was possible that he fathered her child. She was frantic to throw him off the scent, so we never let anyone know when she was due since she was at high risk for coming prematurely. When Briana was born almost two months early, we pretended she was full term and just small because of Angel's poor prenatal habits. Angel didn't have any close friends so there wasn't anyone to dispute her story who was in a position to know. The three of us told everyone that one of Luke's friends, a guy who'd died earlier that year, was the father. The poor guy had no relatives so there was no one to be affected by the deception, and it enabled us, Luke and me, to take Angel to a military facility to give birth. That way the records were safer from Edward's prying eyes. We did all this so Briana would be safe. The three of us, plotting to trick Edward, with Angel insisting the whole time that it was only a precaution, that he really wasn't the father. Now Luke and Angel are both gone and I'm the only one left now who knows any part of the truth. But all I really know to be true is that the man listed as Briana's father on her birth certificate is not her father."

Danny bit his lip. "When Angel told me she was pregnant, I was so angry at her. We had one of our worst fights ever. I didn't want to have to pick up the pieces of this mess for her. That's what I called it, her 'mess.' I told her she had to go to Mama and Dad. But then, she told me Dad had refused to talk to her once she told him, he was so ashamed. And Mama didn't support her, not really. Eventually Mama told her she'd have to come home, give up her life in the city, and give them the baby to raise. Then Dad would accept her back. That was the deal. I was touring with Cher then. Things were going well and I didn't want to go back to New York. I sure as hell didn't want to raise a baby. But Angel called me, crying. She told me she couldn't accept Mama's terms. She was broken-hearted by Dad's rejection. She'd always been able to wrap him around her finger before. But not that time. She told me if she didn't have my support, if I didn't come home and help her, she'd have no choice but to get an abortion."

I massaged his shoulder lightly. This wasn't the right time to ask why that solution hadn't been taken. It seemed like the logical one to me. Danny was religious, but Angel sure wasn't, not that I could recall. Why drag him home with a threat like that when she couldn't have wanted a kid at that point in her life either? Once more, Danny seemed to read my mind.

"I flew home the next day and I sat up with her all night, talking. She looked like hell, Bri, but she'd been off the stuff for months then. She'd been clean for three months when I went on tour or I never would have left. She swore to me she hadn't been taking anything while I was gone, nothing in the weeks leading up to her getting pregnant at least. But I'd been gone most of the year with only quick stops back so I hadn't kept a close watch on her. I tried to get her to go to Matt for help, or Mark, hell, even Mary Beth or Mary Kate would have been there for her, and would have stood up to Mama and Dad if they had to. At least I thought they would. But it turned out that she already had talked to the others. Matt was barely holding on, what with Julie having died the year before. He probably wanted to help, but he just didn't have it in him, and both Mary Pat and Mary Beth were caught up with helping him with his kids. As for the rest, the deal was the same, come home for good or give up your baby to us. Give up all rights and we'll raise her as ours. She said she'd rather God have her, as she thought he'd be less judgmental. Of course, she didn't tell them she was thinking of abortion; they'd never have accepted that. She may as well have changed her name and cut off all contact with the family right then. They would have disowned her. After telling them all that she was pregnant, if she had terminated the pregnancy then, she would have been treated as though she were dead herself. I don't know if any of them would have been able to forgive her, or understand her taking that step."

"You could though." I watched his face closely as I made the suggestion.

"Of course. I'm not a hypocrite." I stared at him, calling upon all my experience to maintain a deadpan and hide my shock. He sighed heavily as he turned away to look back at the window. Even in the dim light of the plane's interior, all he really could see was our reflections in the glass.

"I know. It went against everything you told me as a lad, but sometimes when you're young...." He looked down at the rosary for a long moment before continuing. "You know I was involved with an older woman when I was seventeen? She was Aida's half sister, Judith, and an amazing dancer, prima ballerina in her troupe. She chose me to partner her when I interned with them as part of a special program with the Pittsburgh ballet and one thing led to another. I'd given up Julliard to make Dad happy and Judith made it seem like dance was still a possible future for me. I would have loved her for that if nothing else. Well, through a series of unfortunate circumstances…" I raised an eyebrow at his reflection in the window and he smiled ruefully. "Well, I guess that isn't quite true. It wasn't like a condom broke or anything. It was more a case of teenage lust overwhelming my usual good sense, and she convinced me to have sex without a condom and leave the birth control to her. Somehow, she ended up pregnant."

I forced myself to remain expressionless even though I was torn between incredulity that he was ever that stupid after the lecture I gave him as a kid, and fury that some older woman who should have known better took advantage of him. I may have fucked Justin when he was just seventeen, but at least I never allowed him to go without protection, much less encouraged it. Danny must have seen through my attempt to appear impassive as he placed his hand on my arm, his eyes pleading for understanding. I increased the pressure of my hand on his shoulder and he leaned into it. A wave of protectiveness washed over me as well as traces of the old regret that I hadn't done the right thing after all when I turned Danny down at sixteen.

"It'd been so hard around the house, Bri. Dad could barely stand to look at me, even after I agreed to go to Penn State. My dating both men and women never satisfied him; he knew I was just going through the motions with girls. But when I was with Judith, it was real and he was happy with me for the first time that I could remember. He and Mama stopped arguing over me. I'd been dancing with her for several months by the time I left for college, and I'd almost convinced myself I could stay straight if I were with Judith. I hadn't been with anyone else in months and I got tested several times. It wasn't smart but at least I knew I wasn't risking her health, Bri, I really wasn't. Looking back, I don't know if it was her or the dancing, or," he gave me a quick sheepish smile, "the fact that she could have been you in drag. Her coloring was exactly the same and she was almost as tall, but I was totally crazy about her. I had stopped seeing men, figuring that it would be okay if I could at least keep my dancing for me and play soccer for the family. Both Dad and I were living in a dream world that summer, Bri. Then, Judith called me when I was at training camp up at college and told me she was pregnant. I was totally shocked. When I arranged to meet her in the City, I had it all planned. I was going to give up college for awhile and pursue modeling full-time to support her and the baby." He turned back towards me, his big green eyes full of self-mockery. "She laughed at me. I mean, really laughed, tears running down her face. Called me her 'petite chou.' Of course she would terminate the pregnancy, she told me. She just thought I would like to know, how did she put it, how virile I was, that I defeated her birth control method, whatever the fuck it was. She even took the time to tell me that she was expecting twins. But she would not become the fool of the dance world by having babies with a man-child, and a gay one at that, nor would she ruin her figure by carrying one child, much less two."

Danny's voice was calm but as I cupped his cheek in my hand to turn his face back to me, I saw the pain reflected in his eyes. At that moment, I hated that bitch Judith more than I could remember hating any woman, even my mother. It wasn't enough that she risked his health, as though he was the only one who might have carried an STD; she took his idealism, and his caring, and she stomped on it, throwing his offer of sacrifice back in his face. The cunt. I hugged him close, unable to think of anything to say that could possibly help, but as he relaxed into my embrace, I realized that there was no need to say anything. He just needed me to listen.

"I believe in choice, Bri, despite my Roman Catholic upbringing. But after that experience, I more strongly believed in avoiding getting in the position of having to make a choice. Because you know, when you're the father, there is no choice. It isn't our bodies so we don't really have a say in what happens. If the woman decides to have the baby, the father is to support it, financially and emotionally. If she chooses to terminate the pregnancy, you're supposed to be able to just forget all those feelings about being a father as though it never happened. I know why that is, intellectually, but it doesn't make it feel any better when the woman's choice isn't your choice. For a few hours, I was an expectant father with a woman I loved carrying my children, and I was fucking happy about it. I wanted those children, Bri. She let me make a fool of myself, making plans, talking about where we would live, how we would dance together after the babies were born, and wouldn't it be amazing if they inherited our dance talent. I spouted all sorts of starry eyed, romantic crap before she lost her composure and started laughing at me. I had no way of keeping those babies, of making her have them. She didn't even let me go with her when she had the abortion. I guess she thought she was being kind, that it would be too upsetting for me. But that was the end of our relationship, as I never could get over it. Looking back now, I can see how fucking stupid I'd been, thinking for even a moment that it was possible. But, talking with Angel, it all came back to me and I felt like I had to say yes to taking care of her child because I failed in my responsibility to my own children. I had no business fathering children with a woman who didn't want them, when abortion wasn't the right choice for me emotionally or spiritually. Please don't laugh at this, Brian, but I felt like God gave me Briana as my chance to make things right."

I felt no temptation to laugh. Judith had been a fucking bitch but Angel, with her spoiled, manipulative ways, was a close second, using her brother that way. I could see why Aida had said her sister didn't have a heart. Not because she had the abortion; hell, that was the only sensible choice given the circumstances. But, since that was what she was going to do, why even tell Danny? She must have known the reaction she'd get out of a kid like he was at that age. Maybe that was the point, to satisfy her ego, to know she had such power over him as to make him want to give up all of his dreams for her. So for her entertainment, she laid that guilt trip on him. No wonder he went so wild with men after that. Pain management. Then, when he'd finally put his life back together after all the shit with Simon, his own sister sucked him back into that New York scene with her own guilt trip. Still, he'd made the best of the situation. And he truly loved his niece. I reminded him of that fact.

"You're a great father to Briana, and she's lucky you were there. If she was your second chance, Danny, you aced it."

He gave a small laugh. "Yeah, I'm a great 'Uncle Daddy.' Do you have any idea how many times that first year I found myself resenting having to miss an audition or rehearsal because I couldn't leave her? I had to stay with her because Angel either wouldn't stay home or was in no shape, being too drunk or too high to take care of her. Angel would get frustrated and upset because Briana was sick so much. And God, she was always sick in the beginning. But something kind of changed along the way. She stopped being a responsibility, a burden, this little millstone around my neck, and she just became part of my life. A good part. It wasn't magic, like the first time I held her in the delivery room or anything. All I could think back to in those early days was that I was constantly tired. I never got enough sleep since it seemed like she never slept and I would be up walking her for hours, singing to her, trying to keep her quiet so we wouldn't lose our lease. I was not enamored by any means, and thought that anyone who loved babies was nuts. It didn't happen until months later, sitting in the pediatric ICU, trying to sleep in one of those uncomfortable recliner chairs they give you. Angel was too upset to stay, so I sent her home and I stayed overnight. The hospital would just allow one 'parent' but they were used to me being the one who brought Briana in for treatment so they never questioned my status. They were just glad not to have to deal with Angel's hysterics. Anyway, Briana woke up and was crying, as usual, but as soon as she heard my voice, she calmed down. She just laid there in the dark, her butt sticking up like babies' butts do, and her head turned toward me, those big eyes looking at me. There was all this trust in them. Like she knew, as fucked up as her little world was, that she could trust me to always take care of her, to always be there when she needed me." He was worrying his bottom lip with his teeth again, and was rolling the rosary between those long graceful fingers. I rubbed my thumb along his lip to soothe it as I gripped his hand with my free one.

"It's okay, Danny, that you took a vacation for once, other parents do. Whatever the situation was when Angel was alive, your mother grew to love and accept Briana, and so do your brothers and sisters, especially Jamie and Mary Pat. Your going away for a much needed break didn't make her sick." I moved my hand around to his neck and pulled him close for a kiss. His capacity for feeling responsible for every bad thing that happened rivaled my own. He returned the kiss briefly, then rested his head on my shoulder.

"But other kids aren't Briana. Maybe if I'd been there, I would have known she was really sick sooner. Just as important, she would feel better if I were there, and ...."

"And what? Your presence would break a fever? You aren't Superman, Danny. Are you never going to take a break until she's all grown up? Hell, even your mother didn't do that; she left you with babysitters when she went to watch your brothers play soccer. I seem to recall you ending up in the hospital one of those times when Joey and I had a championship game and practically the whole O'Keefe gang was there to cheer the team on."

"But I was a teenager then, for fuck's sake, and I had Matt's wife Julie, who was practically a second mother, to watch me, not to mention my sister Mary Beth, who stayed home with me. It isn't the same for Briana, Brian. All she really has is me!" The attendant glanced over at us as Danny's voice was carrying. He shrugged my arm away and shifted in his seat so that his back was against the window, his legs crossed Indian style under him. I winced at the thought of even trying to contort myself into that position in one of these seats. First Class was roomier than Coach, but neither of us were short men and we both had long legs. I reached over and caressed his leg as I spoke calmly.

"Shh, I know you come first for each other, but Briana has a large loving family in addition to you, a family she would be even more comfortable with if you would leave her with them for more than just overnights. What do you do when you go away to model? That must involve more that a night or two?"

"I used to take her with me if I was going to be gone more than a couple of days. This didn't become an issue until Mama died. After Angel died, Mama stepped in and helped, feeling pretty bad that she hadn't done more sooner. So I could leave Briana with her or she would even come up to New York for me. After Dad was gone too, having Briana to coddle was good for her. Losing Julie, then Luke, Angel and finally Dad so close together was hard on Mama. So I moved back home, as you know, and whenever I needed to take a job in Europe or on the Coast, the two of them were comfortable together, especially with Mary Pat's help. If it was going to be a long shoot, I simply packed Briana up and took someone along to help with her. It was never hard getting one of the cousins or nieces to come along on an all expense paid trip, with spending money thrown in."

"Must have put a cramp in your social life though," I commented, watching as he tapped his knees nervously. He was so fucking wired. I tried to think of some way to calm him down. At this rate he would be climbing the walls before we were halfway across the Atlantic. I'd thought talking would help but so far it seemed to be making him more agitated. He'd been better off praying. I didn't think suggesting indulging in the mile high club would go over well, empty as the First Class section was. Public sex was not as relaxing for Danny as it was for me.

"Not really. I wouldn't have wanted to bring any tricks back to my hotel room anyway, so they gave me the perfect excuse to avoid it politely. There was never any lack of action, and I wasn't looking for any relationships then, so…" he shrugged. When his eyes met mine again, they were filled with so much pain I almost looked away. "What if she dies, Bri? What if this is my punishment for not wanting her? For all the times I resented having to take care of her?"

I practically pulled him onto my lap as I held him tight against my chest, inhaling deeply of his scent, a combination of his shampoo, cologne and something uniquely Danny.

"Briana is going to be fine. The God you believe in doesn't make little girls sick to punish people like you who love them, you know that, Danny. Maybe some fundamentalist God somewhere does that, but not the one you pray to, and sing for on Sundays. That's not the God you teach your Sunday school students about. I refuse to believe you worship a God like that."

Danny took a deep breath. "So what does my God do in situations like this?" He stared up at me with trust in his eyes, looking once again like the boy from that long ago dorm room, who thought I had all the answers, back before I'd ever disappointed him.

I held his gaze. "He gives you a friend to listen to you, and to hold you up when you stumble. And he helps you to have faith that everything will be okay when it looks like everything is dark. And more than all that, he gives you the strength to deal with whatever the fuck you have to deal with."

Danny rested his head back down on my chest, wrapping an arm around me. "Thank you, Brian. For listening. For not judging. For just being here. For everything." I stroked his hair and after a few minutes felt his breathing even out as he drifted into sleep. His grip on the rosary loosened and I caught it before it could slip from his hand. As I felt the cool marble beads, the long forgotten words came back to me unbidden. After petitioning for Briana's recovery, I commenced praying the rosary for the first time in over twenty years.

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(Setting: Wednesday morning; Third Week of July, Pittsburgh; POV/Cynthia)

I waited by the baggage pick-up area at Pittsburgh's airport. Brian and Danny's flight had landed a few minutes ago so I had my eyes glued to the escalator that brought passengers down from the shuttle trains that delivered them from where they disembarked from the planes. Rather than send a car with a driver, I came myself to drive them to the hospital. I'd checked in with Daphne a little while ago and knew that Briana was hanging in there, although the fever was still high. Keeping to Brian's orders, I didn't tell her I was picking the boys up this morning.

I knew Brian and Danny would be exhausted which was one of the reasons I didn't want them to have to deal with a strange driver. They'd left Ibiza at midnight, their time, and flew for almost fifteen hours. To them, it was five in the afternoon, although it was only eleven in the morning Pittsburgh time. Plus, I doubted they got much sleep. Jet lag was a bitch. I also just wanted to be there for them. I knew Brian would be worried about Danny, so I figured it would be up to me to worry about Brian. He would be so busy taking care of Danny, he wouldn't think of his own needs. At the very least, I could keep him supplied with hot coffee to keep him going. And maybe slip some food in there every once in a while.

It was easy to pick them out of the crowd when they finally came into view. First off, Brian is easily one of the tallest men in any group and tired or not, he carried himself with a certain aura of power. Danny, although shorter, is one of the few men who can match him for sheer presence, his grace of movement drawing all eyes to him. The second thing is, the two of them combined, both dark and handsome, would turn heads in any crowd, hell, they cause a crowd to form. They made such a striking pair, both tall, lean and hot. Brian was dressed in his usual form fitting black top and the 501 Levis he favored, while Danny had on one of those lightweight white shirts he liked so much that emphasized his tan, the sleeves rolled up to the biceps, with a pair of lowslung designer jeans, probably D&G. Together, they were enough to take a girl's breath away. Or a guy's. Danny had a beautiful guitar strapped onto his back, and was carrying just one small overnight bag, while Brian had his laptop and a slightly larger carry-on bag slung over his shoulder.

I waved to catch my boss's attention. He nodded and nudged Danny in my direction. As he looked over at me, Danny's usual warmth was missing from his expression; in its place was a mask that was much more like the boss's usual cover.

"Hey, I didn't expect you to come yourself." Brian's brow was furrowed as he bent down to give me a quick kiss. He glanced at Danny and pulled him closer to his side. "Any news?" Brian's voice was tense. Danny didn't even say hi, just stared at me. At first, I looked at the two of them blankly, wondering why the hell they were acting so weirdly about my meeting them. Then it hit me.

Shit. I hadn't thought it through. They were both afraid that I'd come to pick them up because I had bad news to give them.

"No, no, God no. I mean, I haven't spoken to Daphne for an hour or maybe two now, but the last news was that Briana's condition was the same. Serious but stable. I just thought it would be easier if I picked you up, took you straight to the hospital. I made arrangements for one of the interns to pick up your luggage and take it to the office for now. He came in a separate car."

Danny visibly relaxed at my words, his shoulders easing. He stepped forward to hug me. God, I forgot how muscular he was. He looks so slim in clothes that it comes as a shock to feel how hard his body is. Brian gave me one of his knowing looks as I flushed slightly upon being released and ran a nervous hand through my hair. I was acting like a silly schoolgirl. Damn Kinney, he never misses anything, but fortunately, Danny didn't seem to notice and under the circumstances, Brian forbore teasing. Danny gave me one of his sweet smiles, shifting the guitar to his other shoulder.

"Sorry, Cyn. I'm wound kind of tight right now. That was very thoughtful of you to think of all that. Since we don't need to stay for the bags, can we get going right now?"

Danny directed his question to Brian, who nodded.

"Yeah, let me just tell whoever it is how many bags he's to pick up and what they look like. Is that him over there? The redhead with glasses?" Brian nodded his head to the left as he looked to me for the answer.

Brian had unerringly picked out one of his more menial employees. Keith stayed in the background, as befitted his lowly position at Kinnetik but even if Brian seemed to ignore his employees, he knew everyone down to the lowliest mailroom clerk. He beckoned the young man over.

"Hey, Keith, isn't it?" The young intern flushed with pleasure. I couldn't help grinning as I watched another victim of the Kinney charm. Sometimes I wondered if there were any straight men in Pittsburgh. Danny looked away to hide his own small smile. He was impatient to get going, but he was not one to begrudge a few seconds spent making someone else feel appreciated. It was the type of gesture he usually made himself. Brian shook hands with the young man and Danny gave a friendly, if distracted nod when Brian introduced him quickly.

"Thanks for staying to get our bags. We need to leave right away. There will be six altogether, three gray Armani suitcases and two dark blue Versace, plus a matching Versace suit bag, all arriving from Flight 467. Our names are on the tags. Here is some money, use a porter as that's too much to handle yourself. Keep the extra to get yourself lunch somewhere with a friend. And again, thanks."

Danny added his thanks and we headed off to my Beemer. We stowed the bags and laptop in the trunk. Danny kept the guitar with him, holding it in his lap. He saw me looking at it.

"I haven't had a chance to get a case for it yet and want to keep it safe. Brian got it for me yesterday. It's a beauty, don't you think?" I readily agreed and again received that sweet smile in return. He was still somewhat distracted and tense, but I could see more of the old Danny the closer we got to the hospital. He'd opted to sit in the back seat and started strumming the lovely instrument as we drove along. Brian had automatically gotten behind the wheel to drive. I didn't object. Even though there were lines of fatigue around his eyes, I knew Brian was fully capable of driving without sleep, especially when completely sober. I'd known him to drive on no sleep and three sheets to the wind so this was nothing.

I reached out and touched his arm lightly in support. When he glanced over, I silently mouthed my question. "How is he?"

Brian looked in the rear view mirror at the man in the backseat then directed his tired eyes back at me. I could see the worry reflected in them. He shrugged and answered quietly. "Hanging on."

We were quiet the rest of the way. The soothing notes of the guitar from the back seat were the only sound other than the hum of the air conditioner.

*************************

(Wednesday Morning, Third Week of July, Pittsburgh Medical Center; POV/Emmett)

I gave Mary Pat a fresh cup of coffee from the thermos I'd brought from home. She took it mechanically. The poor thing, I don't think she'd gotten any sleep since Sunday. Jamie looked just as bad. He'd finally collapsed on the small sofa in the small family visiting area outside the pediatric ICU area. Since they had Briana in isolation, she was in a room by herself and the hospital had set aside an area for the O'Keefe clan to congregate. At the moment, John was in with Briana. He had the strongest resemblance to Danny, which I'd been able to maximize by slicking his hair back with gel so it looked the way Danny's did when he wore it in a braid. In her present semi-delirious state, aided by a little of his cologne and some of his favorite old shirts, it was strong enough to fool her into thinking Danny was there some of the time. The baby was half unconscious most of the time but she was calmer when John held her pretending to be Danny, and it stopped her pitiful crying for her missing Uncle. That had been heart-breaking to listen to. John deliberately spoke to her in a deeper voice than his normal pitch, which helped foster the impersonation, and even went so far as to shave his chest hair when his son pointed out to him that his own thick thatch of dark hair was a dead giveaway that he wasn't "Uncle Daddy." In the darkened room, even I had to look twice to tell he wasn't Danny.

I was surprised by how humble John had been in his efforts to comfort his little niece. It had been his idea for me to try to make him look even more like Danny. He also asked me what songs Danny usually sang to Briana so he could try singing some of them to her. His singing voice was another revelation, as he hadn't participated in the Benefit as a performer at all, limiting his involvement to legal advice. It seemed so out of character for this, the most serious of the O'Keefe brothers, and the brusque father of sons, to be so gentle with the little girl. Yet I heard him singing Disney song after Disney song to her in a strong tenor voice to keep her mind off her discomfort. He didn't have Danny's low notes but could manage the songs that fell in the higher range almost as well as Danny himself.

Thus, while the others bickered over Briana's medical treatment, and whether or not Danny should be called home all through Monday and Tuesday, as Briana's condition grew worse, John focused on doing what he could do to make her feel better.

As for me, I hadn't known what to do. I wasn't family. But after all this time, I felt really close to that little girl and certainly to Danny. He'd asked me to keep an eye on Briana for him, yet Mary Pat had given me direct orders not to say anything to him, insisting this was merely a particularly bad virus that would be gone in a day or two. But as her fever remained high and no clear diagnosis emerged, I grew more and more uncomfortable with Danny not being told. I didn't want to add to Mary Pat's stress, as I knew she and Jamie were doing everything they could to make Briana well. And I was fully conscious of my own lack of knowledge about kids. I was just a party planner; they had medical training after all. Finally, early on Tuesday, after Jamie and Mary Pat had what I'd come to recognize as a typical O'Keefe family "discussion" over whether to consent to a spinal tap, which in any other context would be an out and out fight, it was John who pulled me aside and told me to do whatever I felt was the right thing to do.

"Screw them, Emmett. You're Danny's best friend. If you think he should be called, then fucking call him. I'll deal with the fallout if they give you grief over it. But there's no way Danny would ever second guess you, or complain about his vacation being disturbed, you know that. Hell, if you want, I'll call him, but if I do it, he'll be sure to think the worst."

"I don't understand, John, why are you being so nice to...? I mean..." I hadn't been quite sure how to put it, realizing too late, as I usually did, that once again, the Honeycutt mouth had started talking before the brain had engaged.

"Why am I being so nice to you, so nice to Briana, or so nice to Danny?" At that point, the Adonis O'Keefe had given me a look worthy of Kinney.

"Well, kind of all three." I'd felt pretty foolish but then, John often had that effect on me.

John really did remind me of Brian at times like that. He'd glanced back into Briana's room, but seeing that she'd fallen into a deep sleep for the moment, with Mary Beth and Mark keeping vigil in her room, he'd nodded his head toward the end of the hall and indicated that I was to follow him to the chairs set up down there. He'd stretched out in one, his long legs reaching across the hall. He'd folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling, then started talking. His voice didn't have the deep, resonant quality that Danny's had, but it had a musical quality to it all the same. It was easy to see why he was such a successful trial lawyer. Danny always said John had the Irish gift for weaving a story. Although he may have called it spinning bullshit, come to think of it. My Granny would have said he'd kissed the Blarney Stone. Same difference. I can't do it justice, all I know is, it was persuasive when he said it.

"I was only twenty when I found out I was going to be a father. Twenty-one when Johnny was born."

I couldn't help my look of surprise. I knew on some level that John was young to be the father of an eighteen year old, but all the O'Keefes looked so much younger than their real ages that I'd assumed that he was closer in age to Matt and Mark. I'd forgotten that there had been another brother in between him and Mark, so he wasn't that much older than Brian and was probably younger than Ted. I must have made a noise because even though he wasn't looking at me, John had snorted in acknowledgment.

"I know, I don't seem the type to knock up a girl in college, do I? It was perhaps the only reckless, unplanned thing I ever allowed in my life. But in another, deeper sense, it was probably the best thing I ever did. I've loved that boy more than life itself from the moment I held him. And I loved his mother. Still do. I didn't always show it, fucked it up royally, but my wife, my Micky, she was the best thing that ever happened to me. One of my major problems was, I let everyone convince me that I was too young to be a good husband and father. Too young to take care of a baby. So, I left it to Micky and went about my life, going to school, playing soccer, and figured my mother could help her and the baby better than I could anyway. Sure, I played with Johnny. Couldn't wait to teach him how to play soccer. I knew teaching my boy to be a soccer star was my duty as an O'Keefe father." This was said with an ironic bitterness to his voice.

"But I didn't do the doctor visits, or the staying up late with a sick kid thing. Didn't change a single diaper. All the little things that make you a real parent, the things that Danny did for Briana. Micky handled those things alone with Johnny. She stopped relying on my parents because she didn't want to be treated like a kid anymore and she knew that as long as she accepted their help, they would never respect her as Johnny's mom. She didn't want him to grow up having any doubts as to who his mom was. She wanted me to be a real dad too, to stand up to my parents, but I thought it was easier to just let them do it all. It was one of the main reasons we broke up. Anyway, you know who ended up helping her after the divorce? Danny. He was just a kid himself then, but I found out years later that he would go over and babysit. No strings attached. No treating her like she wasn't the mom as mama and my older sisters did. He'd practise his music or do his homework at her little apartment, and watch Johnny so she could go to law school at night. It's no wonder Johnny and him are so close, but for the longest time I used to be jealous, thinking that Danny was stealing him from me."

John had lowered his head and given me a piercing green eyed stare. "But, contrary to what everyone else may think, I didn't think Danny was recruiting him to be gay. I don't fight with Danny because he's gay. I fight with him for lots of reasons, partially because we're both pigheaded and we always think we're right. And part of it is, I can admit it now, because he's always showing me where I've failed and the gay thing is a surefire way to make him lose his cool and not be Mr. Perfect." For once, John's classic features relaxed into a very human expression of brotherly glee which was gone in a flash and his face was serious again. "I really regretted losing it when mama was dying, but I hated seeing what he was doing to himself. Everyone was tiptoeing around him, and it seemed so clear to me that he was in shock. I wanted to shake him out of it but I lost it instead. Then the whole thing got out of hand, with Jamie and me fighting and Danny just withdrawing into himself as he does. The end result was that we were left barely speaking to each other." John had remained quiet for a few moments. It had been so strange, sitting there with him. He looked so much like Danny that my natural instinct was to comfort him as I would my friend, to pull him close in a hug. Yet, one just didn't do that with John O'Keefe, and it had nothing to do with the whole straight/gay thing; even among the affectionate, touchy O'Keefes, he generally stood alone. It made these few days in the hospital, with him cuddling Briana, even more extraordinary.

"So is this your way of making it up to him? Doing what you can to help Briana until he gets back?" I'd waited for the answer although I wasn't sure I was going to get one. For a few minutes, it seemed like this uncharacteristic sharing was at an end. He finally answered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Indirectly. Given my own experience, I'd be the last one to say Danny isn't fully capable of being a parent simply because of his age or because he is a single parent. My son was essentially raised by a single parent and he's turned out great. Danny's far more capable than I was, and it bothers me to see him treated like he isn't Briana's real parent, after all this time. Carol used to make noises about trying to adopt Briana, as she really wanted a girl, and I used to look at her like she was crazy. It was only recently that I found out that she'd talked to others in the family about that crazy notion, and acted like I was agreeable. I had no idea that everyone in the family had this mistaken idea that I would ever want to take Briana away from Danny since no one ever thought to ask me. Briana is Danny's. Besides," John had given his wry half smile that was very much him, "I'd noticed, even if my soon to be ex-wife never did, that Joshua and Jared behaved far better for Danny than they ever did for us. I couldn't imagine going into court and arguing that we would be more fit parents than he was. Hell, he was twenty-three when he took on Briana, two years older than I was when I became a father, and he already knew how to change diapers and get bottles ready. He practiced on every one of their babies, too, not just mine." John had nodded his head toward the cluster of O'Keefes down the hall.

"So it's total bullshit for them to treat him like the bachelor uncle who doesn't know what he's doing when it comes to kids. Matt and Mark, Joey, even the girls, Mary Beth, Mary Fran, Mary Kate, hell, Mary Pat too, who should know better, they have good intentions, but that's like the kiss of death in this family. They all meant well when they told Angel she had to give up her baby to them, instead of just giving her the kind of help she asked for from them. Only Danny ever gives unconditional help in this family. I get pissed at him a lot, but not for the things he thinks I do. I was my father's favorite, and could never make my mother happy, but he had the opposite problem. Mama adored him, and Dad resented the hell out of him. I just want to put it all behind us now. I'm tired of the fighting and side taking and everyone having to play the same old roles. I'm tired of the stupid negotiating over every little thing. I feel like I come home from work and then the real negotiating starts. Who will watch whose kids, who will take over someone else's Sunday school class?" John gave the wry smile again. "Danny prides himself on being the best at negotiating, and sure he's good, but the truth is, he goes ahead and does whatever anyone wants anyway, regardless of the concessions he wins. He's owed more favors 'to be named later' than any four members of this messed up family put together. Yet, just try to do him a favor and he acts like a stubborn ass."

"Well," I'd grinned, trying to cheer John up, "the Benefit must have gone a long way to evening up that score."

"But that's just the point. Why should that have been just for Danny? Dusty was my classmate. I cared about her family too. I would have done that Benefit's legal work pro bono for anyone else without any favors being called in. Mama raised our family to be so fucked up with her insistence on quid pro quo. What family does that? Briana is my niece as much as Danny's, well, I'll concede she's more Danny's, hell, he's raised her, but she's mine as much as Mary Pat's. Angel was my little sister. I should do everything I can to make her child well and happy. But MP was asking me this morning what I wanted for staying the night with Briana. No one thought to ask you what you wanted. They knew you'd be insulted. Only an O'Keefe expects to be paid in kind for doing something nice for a brother or sister."

"If it makes you feel better, handsome, you can give me a back-rub to show your appreciation," I'd suggested, batting my eyelashes, still trying to win a smile. Of course, if there was one thing you learn as a gay man, the adage that it never hurts to ask is not always true; you really have to be careful who you ask and what you ask. Seeing those icy green eyes narrow, I'd worried I'd crossed the line. Fortunately, after a moment, I saw one side of those gorgeous lips curve up and he merely said softly, "Don't push your luck. I promised Danny I wouldn't kill you before he got back."

The other side of that sexy mouth twitched and I actually saw a dimple. Who would have guessed? Adonis had a sense of humor.

"Now go call my baby brother and tell him what's going on here. I've got your back, even if I won't rub it for you. If Mary Pat gives you any grief, just send her to me. For all her tough act, she'd just another baby sister as far as I'm concerned and she's out of line in this case. She might be able to kick Jamie around but I'm not as nice as he is."

"Fair enough," I'd agreed, before scampering off. I'd been relieved to have John's blessing to do what I'd been itching to do all along. It was driving me crazy to hear that little girl crying for her Uncle Daddy and not understanding why he wasn't coming to her. I left a message at the hotel, not wanting to reach Danny unless I knew Brian would be with him. Eventually I got a call back from Brian himself, with the promise that he would have Danny home as soon as possible. That was a relief, as things didn't get any better. I was a bit relieved that Brian ran interference and I didn't have to talk to Danny myself. I don't think I would have been able to reassure him that everything was okay here. It was hard enough trying to leave the perky message when that baby girl just seemed to be getting worse and no one had any answers.

As much as Mary Pat and Jamie tried to convince everyone, and themselves, that this was just a typical kid fever, I could tell that they were worried sick when Briana's condition just kept deteriorating. Daphne tried to hide it, but her sweet little face couldn't mask her anxiety.

It was shortly after I gave Mary Pat the coffee Wednesday morning that Matt came up to us. John was still in the hospital room, holding the frail little figure and crooning a Celtic lullaby to her.

"Mary Pat, the infectious disease expert wants to talk with us. He thinks its time to do the spinal tap. They can't come up with any explanation for this fever and he believes it is dangerous to go any longer without finding the cause. We really should try to reach Danny and get his consent. I know you can give your consent but with the risk to the procedure, I'd feel better if we at least spoke with him. I also think he should be brought home."

"Oh no, Matt. Not that. She's just a baby, surely there's no need. Babies get fevers all the time. Besides, I really think she's doing better."

Matt took hold of Mary Pat's hands.

Just then, we heard John call out for help and then the alarms went off in Briana's room. Before any of us could go to him, we were pushed aside by rushing hospital staff and within moments John was sent from the room and the curtains around the crib drawn as the medical people worked on Briana. Mary Pat's face had gone white and Matt had to literally hold her up.

"What happened?" The oldest O'Keefe asked John, who leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed. John compressed his lips for a minute, composing himself. I reached out to touch his shoulder. He surprised me by reaching up and squeezing my hand briefly in acknowledgment. Jamie and Daphne rushed up as he started to speak, their faces somber. They looked toward the door, but seeing it shut, didn't try to use their status as medical professionals to enter. Instead, they waited to hear what John said and left it to the medical team inside with Briana to do their jobs.

"She seemed perfectly fine, still really hot with the fever though. Then...then she started to go into a seizure, her body went rigid in my arms and that's when I started yelling for help as I couldn't get a hand free to reach the call button. I think her heart rate did something....that's when the monitor went nuts..." John opened his eyes and looked at Jamie. "I'm sorry, you know I'm useless when it comes to this stuff. Her heart didn't stop, I'm sure of that, but I think it was racing way too high, and she, she..." His voice broke and he slumped to a crouching position on the ground.

"God, I'm so sorry, I didn't know what to do. She's so frail. One of you would have been better, I didn't...I...I'm sorry..." He hid his face in his folded arms, which rested on his knees. His shoulders shook.

Matt looked helplessly at him. His arms were full of a weeping Mary Pat so he was unable to comfort his brother. Daphne's face was full of tears but I pulled her over to me and held her against my chest so Jamie could kneel down next to his older brother and pull him close, resting his own head down on John's shoulder as he too cried.

Matt spoke somberly. "I think it's time we call Danny and get him home. Damn, it's going to take him almost a day to get here. I pray that..." He didn't finish the thought but he didn't have to; it was in everyone's mind. He hoped that Danny could get here in time. I was so thankful I'd taken John's advice and called Danny yesterday. He should be arriving within the next hour. I just hoped it was in time.

Danny still hadn't arrived when Briana's doctor came out to give us news.

*************************

(POV/Brian)

I couldn't believe the amount of traffic we hit coming from the airport for a mid-week morning. It figured. Anytime you really wanted to get somewhere in a hurry, traffic crawled. Danny had retreated to some inner place with his music and the last thing I wanted to do was disturb him by cursing at some idiot in the lane ahead of us. So I kept a grip on my temper and told myself that nothing was likely to happen in the next hour that hadn't already happened. I was glad Cynthia came to get us. There was no need to make small talk about our trip. She had too much sense to ask inane questions when Danny was scared shitless worrying about his niece and I was in pretty much the same condition, worried about Danny. Not that I would let him see that.

We finally got there. I pulled up in front and left Cynthia to park her car. I asked her to stow the guitar someplace safe or bring it in with her. Knowing her, she would manage to find a case for it and secure it suitably. No task ever fazed her. Danny and I went inside, walking as quickly as we could without running.

"Bri, could you?" He looked at me, the first words he'd spoken since the airport. He didn't need to explain. I knew what he wanted. I'd been in his shoes.

I walked up to the front desk, where there were two elderly ladies, wearing volunteer smocks. They greeted us with big smiles. I gave them my "charming" smile back.

"Girls, we're here to see a patient. Briana O'Keefe. I believe she's in the pediatric ICU. Could you direct us where to go?"

The first little old lady looked concerned as the other one started to type the name in the computer. Danny was practically thrumming with tension.

"Oh dear, what a shame. The ICU? How old is she? Was it an accident?"

"No, she's ill, can you please just tell me..."

The other lady had finished with the computer. She looked up, much more businesslike than her partner.

"She's in Bed 2, but that's an isolation room and there are already more visitors there than the hospital allows for ICU rooms. I'm sorry but you'll have to wait until some of them come downstairs. We have a lovely waiting area right over there behind you and to your left."

I put my hand on Danny's arm to stop him from losing it. I smiled again and leaned my arms on the counter. There was a security guard at the other end. He was busy talking on the phone but the last thing we needed was to be thrown out of the hospital.

"Would it be possible to call up to the nurses' station? My friend here is the patient's father and he just got back from overseas." Let them think he's a soldier or something, with his hair pulled back, they wouldn't see its length until he was walking away. "And it's urgent he see her as soon as possible. He's been traveling all night, and won't rest until he's assured that she's okay. I'm sure that the others are the rest of his family." I didn't mention Jamie yet as I couldn't recall if he was on staff here or not.

"Oh, is her mother up there?" The more easy going one asked the question while the other one appeared to be reading the computer. I wondered what it said.

"Her mother is dead," Danny answered, his deep voice rougher than I'd ever heard it, even after the Benefit. It was as though he could barely get the words past his tight throat. The two women looked at him directly for the first time, and his voice and face were so bleak that both of them looked away quickly.

"Go on up, second floor, make a left." Another security guard had come over, unnoticed. "You're one of the O'Keefes, aren't you?" Danny nodded. He was gripping my arm so hard I almost winced. "Come on, I'll take you. They're expecting you. It's okay, ladies. They're VIP."

I looked at Danny but he didn't seem capable of asking the question. So, as we headed to the elevator, I asked it. "Did anything happen? Is Briana okay?"

The guard gave us one of those deadpan police officer type looks.

"I'd better let the doctor talk to you, sir. I'm sorry."

Fuck. Danny stiffened next to me.

I put my arm around his waist and pulled him close, ignoring the security guard's sidelong look. When the elevator came to a stop, we followed the guard through double doors into the kid ICU. There were the usual small clusters of distraught, tired parents huddling in doorways. The hospital smell hadn't changed since Justin had been here so long ago. ICU's had a more serious feel to them than other floors. A pediatric ICU is a terrible place, despite the pathetic efforts to make it look cheery with the bright colors and animal decals. All those tiny bodies hooked up to machines. Because of his age and the fact that he was still in high school, this was where they'd brought Justin after his surgery. I think part of it was also because he was so small and young looking. He didn't seem to belong with all the old dying people in the regular ICU, filled with stroke victims and heart attack patients; people whose bodies were failing them after too many decades of life. He'd been a kid at the beginning of his life.

They could paint the walls any fucking color they wanted, but the sounds of the machines were the same. The staff wore cheery uniforms but their faces still bore the strain of caring for seriously ill children. If it weren't for the fact that Danny needed me, I'd have been back out those double doors in a flash and on my way to the nearest bar. Or the nearest backroom. The memories were choking me.

The O'Keefes were in a small room at the end of the hallway, right next to a patient room marked "infection precautions".

"Oh God," Danny murmured. He stopped dead. A nurse was wheeling what looked like one of those crash carts out of the room. I steadied him, my arm around his waist. Just then, Mary Pat looked up from where she stood next to Matt, between the side room and what I assumed was Briana's room, the "infection precautions" room.

"Oh, Danny, you're here. I can't believe it. You're here now. I'm sorry, baby, so sorry. Please forgive me." She stumbled over and grabbed him in a tight hug. He pulled away from me in order to wrap his arms around her, and make soothing noises, but his eyes were stricken as he stared over her head at me. I swallowed hard as I clasped his shoulder, trying to give him support, even as I looked past him toward Briana's room.

Briana's room. I could see the little dark curly head in the oversized crib. I let go of his shoulder and took a few steps closer. Jamie and Daphne were huddled together in a big chair, looking up at a monitor, talking quietly. The monitor sure as fuck showed a heartbeat. From what I could tell, it showed a strong, normal one.

"Danny." He didn't hear me over his sister's weeping. Either that or he may have zoned out as he tended to do when he couldn't handle things. I looked to Matt.

"Matt, get her the fuck off him. She's scaring the shit out of him. Briana is alive, right?"

Matt had slumped against the wall, eyes closed, praying or something, but at my snapping at him, he jumped up.

"What?" He looked confused. The poor guy looked like he hadn't slept in days so he may have been sleeping rather than praying. In any event, he was no help at the moment. Fortunately, John and Emmett came out of the visitors' room just then. John took in the situation at a glance. He walked over to Danny, and pulled M.P. away. He spoke with his usual tact, which was about on par with mine, although he was gentle as he held his weeping sister in his own arms.

"Mary Pat, cut it the fuck out. Danny needs to go in to Briana, and see for himself that she's okay, then we need to tell him what the doctor says, and then you can have your orgy of guilt. Em, here, you take her and for God's sake, no more coffee. Make her drink tea or something, anything so long as it's decaf."

Emmett, with his usual efficiency, managed to drop a quick kiss on Danny's cheek, hug me, and usher Mary Pat away before John could take a second breath. No wonder he was such a good wedding planner. Multi-tasking and handling hysterical women seemed as natural to him as falling to his knees and opening his mouth. Mouthing "later" to us, he herded Mary Pat on down the hallway. John grabbed Danny by both shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"Danny, listen to me, Briana's okay. She's going to be fine. There were some hairy moments, but the worst is over now, she pulled through. She's just really weak and missing you tremendously."

Between us, John and I managed to catch Danny as he almost crumpled then. He'd held up when hit with what seemed to be the worst of bad news, but upon learning that Briana was okay, his facade of strength gave out. Leaning back against me, he looked at John, seemingly afraid to believe the good news was true.

"She's really okay? I thought...the guard said...." Danny looked lost.

John smiled. "Come hold her. She needs her sleep but I think she needs you more. Let me just kick the lovebirds out of the way for you. Do they ever sit in separate chairs, by the way? At least you and Kinney don't make me watch that nauseating romantic stuff all the time. It's like being in high school again."

Pulling on Danny's arm, and bitching the whole time, John dragged him into the room. A nurse came over and looked like she was going to complain about the number of people in the room, but I glared her away.

Jamie and Daphne jumped up with hushed exclamations as soon as they saw Danny and me. We all stood back as Danny walked over to the bed and leaned over the side rails. He just stood there for a long moment, staring down at Briana's face. She looked thin, far thinner than just two weeks ago when she'd danced with Gus in the Benefit, but her color wasn't terrible. Her breathing was steady. Danny stroked her cheek lightly. I could see his lips moving. I turned to the others, to give him the time he needed, alone with Briana.

"What was it?" I asked Jamie quietly. He and Daphne had moved into the hallway, next to where John and I stood near the doorway, guarding Danny's private time.

"We may never know," Jamie answered. "She'd gone to the zoo with Mary Pat the day before she became ill. Gus and Melanie had gone too, though, so it was unlikely that it was something they ate at the concession there, as Gus ate everything Briana did. But, they'd gone into the petting zoo, and sometimes a child will pick up an E Coli infection from one of the animals. Most shake it off, but Briana has always had a funny immune system. And kids can get really sick from something like that, simply from not washing their hands. Mary Pat is feeling guilty as she's afraid she didn't watch Briana closely enough. But it may not even have been that. Hell, it could have been something from bird feces at the park, or any number of things. For a while, the infectious disease guy was positive it was meningitis. All we knew was that she had a fever that wouldn't break and her white blood cell count was sky high. None of the antibiotics were helping. All we could do was try to keep the fever down and keep her from dehydrating. This morning, she hit a crisis. The fever spiked, she went into seizures, and her heart went into arrhythmia. She has a murmur anyway, and they feared it would stop, or that some damage would result. They're going to have to keep her a few days to check on that. See if the fever did any long term damage. But after about three minutes of the convulsions, the fever broke, and she's been improving ever since."

Danny looked over. "So there may be permanent damage?" He must have been listening to everything being said. Well, he had to know, although I wished there was some way to spare him more bad news right now.

Jamie looked as though he would have preferred to keep the news from him completely. John shot him a look and spoke in a firm voice that brooked no argument.

"Danny is Briana's parent, Jamie. As such, he is entitled to a full report on her condition. But," John looked over toward the crib and his look softened. I didn't think he had it in him to look that gentle. "It looks like someone heard your voice so the update might need to wait a bit."

Indeed, matching green eyes were looking up at Danny's and frail little arms were trying to reach up, hampered though they were, since one was still taped to a board to hold it flat for the IV in it and the other tangled in the wires from the heart monitor.

"Princess," Danny's rich voice murmured, with just a small catch in it, as Daphne hurried forward to help him untangle the various wires and tubes so he could pick Briana up and hold her close. I had to blink quickly to clear my eyes. The child had wires stuck to her everywhere, and needles running into her arm, but just as he had described her looking when a baby, her eyes were filled with total trust as she looked at her "Uncle Daddy." He was whispering in her ear and she smiled as she tucked her head under his chin.

"He's incredible with her." John was still next to me. He had a funny expression on his face, one I couldn't quite read, but I would almost call it wistful, if such an emotion didn't seem completely alien to the John O'Keefe I'd known for over fifteen years. But then, I wasn't the Brian Kinney everyone thought they knew so well either. Obviously a lot had gone on during this whole drama. I would have to get Emmett to fill us in. Whatever it was, it seemed to have realigned O'Keefe family loyalties a bit. Danny had trusted Mary Pat implicitly with Briana, and while he'd never blame her for the kid's illness, hell, that could happen during anyone's watch, an important part of that trust meant she was to call him home if something serious happened. Danny should have been brought back here days ago. No wonder she'd been begging for forgiveness. For that error in judgment, Mary Pat was to blame.

I thought Jamie was at fault as well. He admitted knowing that this could have been serious. Hell, you read in the papers all the time of kids getting these types of infections and dying, with almost no warning. I was going to have a little talk with Daphne when I had the chance. She could have done what Emmett did, and taken matters into her own hands and called Danny. Hell, she could have called me. We were friends. At least I thought she and I were close friends. She'd never been afraid to call Jamie on it before when she thought he was wrong; why the hell did she let this go on unchallenged? I never wanted to go through sixteen hours like the ones I'd just gone through with Danny. It would have been rough being here, but it was hell on him not being here for Briana. I was realizing more and more that what was hell for him was hell for me too.

But, now wasn't the time for fighting. Watching Danny rock Briana and sing her back to sleep, it was enough to know everything was okay. As John had noted, there would be time enough for the full update later. Danny looked up, catching my eye, and his smile was filled with relief, gratitude, and, yeah, love, was there too. I walked forward and knelt by their side, reaching out to touch the sleeping child's arm.

"Thank you, Bri, for holding me up. For getting me here. For everything."

"No thanks needed. I made you a promise. I intend to keep it."

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