For Love of Justin

Running Uphill, Swimming Against the Current

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Ellie looked at the sad faces on the three young people huddled together on her sofa but wisely said nothing. She placed a basket of fresh bread and a big bowl of tossed salad on the coffee table. Ben followed her into the room carrying a heavy tray laden with steaming mugs of homemade soup, plates, utensils, and glasses filled with juice. The dejected runners just stared at the food, no one making a move toward eating.

Ellie sneaked a look at Ben. Unfortunately, the big man didn't appear as though he felt any more capable of taking control of the situation than his three young charges. The old woman got a militant look in her eye. This defeated attitude was something she just couldn't accept. For a moment, she wished that smart ass Kinney were around. He might be brash, but he wasn't one to back down from a challenge. Not if she knew her men, and if there was one thing Ellie prided herself on, it was her ability to read men. Ben Bruckner was a good man; she had no doubt of that. But some situations called for someone who had a bit of a devil in him, and Brian Kinney fit that description to a T.

However, in Kinney's absence, Ellie was confident, and any one of her former husbands would concur, that she had more than enough devil in her for any situation. And that included facing down gun toting, hate mongering, homophobic stalkers to protect a bunch of nice kids. She brought herself to her full height of four foot ten, placed her hands on her hips and addressed the runners in her deep drill sergeant voice.

"Well, a sorrier bunch of future Olympic heroes I never want to meet. I thought it was Justin who got shot out there, but he's going to be fine so there's no reason for this hunger strike! I can tell you one thing, a little graze from a wacko's bullet wouldn't be enough to hurt that boy's appetite so it sure shouldn't hurt yours. Now eat up!"

Daphne, George, and Kelsey looked at each other, then at the food, but no one made a move toward eating. Ellie huffed in exasperation.

Ben smiled faintly. "I think they're just a little shaken from the day's events, Ellie. I can't say I blame them. I'm feeling a bit unnerved myself."

Ellie turned toward Ben, happy to have a target she felt more comfortable abusing.

"You! You should be setting these children a good example! When was the last time you ate? Do you think you can keep that big gorgeous body going on good intentions alone? It was just for you that I made that salad without any meat. Normally I would have fixed a nice chef's salad with roast beef and ham, a little turkey, as well as cheese, but just for you, it has three kinds of cheese and not a bit of anything a good vegetarian would turn up his nose at, so both the soup and salad are good for you too. So, dig in! NOW!"

With that final word, Ben meekly sat down and started scooping salad onto a plate. At an encouraging nod from his coach, George forced himself to pick up a bowl and ladled some soup into it, pulling off a hunk of the fresh bread while he was at it. Ellie smiled approvingly at the redhead as he took a bite of the soup.

"Hey, it's good!" George exclaimed.

"Of course it's good," Ellie mocked him. "I've been making soup for three quarters of a century, boy! Did you think I got all those husbands on my looks alone?"

George looked helplessly at Daphne and Kelsey, unsure how to answer that loaded question. The two girls were no help, however, as they were finally releasing some of their tension in giggles at his predicament. Ben took mercy on him, chivalrously interjecting, "We have no doubt, Miss Ellie, that each of your husbands fell captive to your charms, and your culinary talents were a mere bonus."

"Well, I'm sure the cooking counted as more than a bonus with the one who played for your team!" Ellie cackled. Privately, she rejoiced to see that her nonsense was succeeding in getting all of them to relax. Ben's nonplused expression reduced the students to roars of laughter before he too gave in to the laughter. After that, all of them were able to do justice to the simple meal as Ben brought them up to date on Justin's condition. He gave them an expurgated version of Carl's report, not wanting them any more worked up than necessary until he had a further chance to discuss what should be done with Brian. He underestimated Daphne's ability to read between the lines. She put her empty soup bowl down and folded her arms across her chest as she looked him in the eye.

"So, what you're saying is, there's an organized group of crazies out there actively targeting any homosexual athlete? So what are the college and the police commissioner planning to do to protect us?"

"Daph, you're not a lesbian." George quietly reminded her, his face somber for once as he looked down at his feet. Ben noted that the young man made no such disclaimer about himself, nor did Kelsey issue a denial. She sat with a stoic face, not making eye contact with anyone. While he and Brian had thought George was at least bi, since the young man was not "out" as Justin was, and had been known to date women around campus. Kelsey's orientation had never come up. She was generally a solitary young woman, although she had gravitated toward Brian's runners. Daphne continued talking vehemently,

"How do you know? How does a gunman know? And what fucking business is it of his or hers what I am or what you, or Kelsey, or Justin is, anyway? What do you think? I'm going to start wearing a fucking t-shirt that says, 'I'm straight' or start hanging out with an asshole like Hobbs? I'd rather be shot! I don't abandon my friends. Besides," she added a little more thoughtfully, "I don't know that I know what I am."

Kelsey smiled wryly at her friend's sudden mood shift while George and Ellie laughed. Ben, however, still looked concerned. He hadn't really wanted to get into all of the ramifications of the friends staying together until Brian got back, but it looked like this conversation wouldn't keep. Brian and he had spoken only briefly at the hospital. Although Justin was the main target, there was no doubt that, as Daphne pointed out, all of the homosexual runners, and those believed to be homosexual, were at risk. This left the coaches with a couple of difficult choices. They could stop the summer running program altogether, which would undoubtedly lead to complaints and possibly lawsuits from the straight runners, some of whom were on scholarship. They had to consider whether it was worth the risk for Justin and the other "out" runners to continue. Ben's own status as coach was in question as well. If the gay and lesbian runners had to leave for their safety, he too may have to leave, as his presence might put all of the runners at risk, a choice he could not make for the others even if he was willing to make it for himself. Ben leaned toward taking the more prudent route, at least for the summer, whereas Brian, surprisingly, was adamant that only the runners had the right to make the choice as to what risks they were willing to run...in order to run.

Ben tried to explain this now to the runners, as Ellie listened in. When he finished, George looked up at him, his expression as intense as that normally cheery face was capable of looking.

"I don't care what anyone says, I'm going to keep running, Ben, and I hope you'll keep coaching me, either on the Carnegie Mellon team, or on my own if the school won't support us. I know I'm not as out there as Justin, but I'll be damned if I let him train alone just because he has more guts than I do. Plus, hell, I need that stupid front runner to get my best times!" By the time he finished speaking, George's trademark grin was firmly back in place even if his eyes were overly bright with the tears he was holding back.

"Me too, Ben. I hope I can stay on the team, but if it comes to a choice of staying in the closet and safe, or staying with my friends and able to live with myself, whatever the risk, I have to choose being true to myself. I guess I'd better warn my parents first though." Kelsey bit her bottom lip after making her announcement. "I'm not sure how they'll take it, but better they hear it from me than on the news."

George and Daphne gave the cool brunette comforting hugs. The three musketeers seemed to have picked up a fourth, Ben thought with an inward smile. At least something good had come out of this nightmarish day.

"Don't worry," George was assuring Kelsey, with an impish grin at their hostess. "Ellie has a million rooms in this place and the rent can't be beat so you can always move in with us! Then when Daphne is ready to experiment, you'll be right there to help her out!"

Both girls started pounding on the hapless redhead. Suddenly, Daphne stopped, with an appalled look. She stared over at Ellie, who had been smiling indulgently at George.

"But we aren't thinking of Ellie! She may be at risk too, having us here! What if these nut cases take a pot shot at her merely for giving us shelter? Maybe we should move out?"

Before the others could react, Ellie exploded. "Over my dead body!"

Ben shook his head sadly as the young people shuddered. "Perhaps not the best image to evoke, Ellie, although I know it is well-intentioned. Daphne has a point. We were grateful to you for providing the kids with a sanctuary when we hoped to keep their orientation private and let them focus on their training. But the truth is, after today, a firestorm of publicity is about to descend upon them and you didn't sign on for that. We can't expect you to put yourself at risk. We are appreciative of all you've done but this isn't your battle."

"Don't you tell me what battles are mine! I'm an old woman, and as far as I'm concerned, you and pretty boy Kinney are every bit as much kids as these three children. I'm well aware of any risks, and I'll have you know that I've lived through far more troubling times than these. My first love was a concentration camp survivor, my first husband was on the front lines of the civil rights movement and I was right by his side. Who are you to tell me what battles are mine, when people with guns try telling other people in this country how to live their lives? That is the battle of every decent person."

"But, your family..." Ben tried once more to reason with Ellie, his conscience balking at the idea of placing this wonderful old woman in danger. The dark eyes snapped at him.

"But nothing, Ben Bruckner! I have a very large, very loving family, Ben, but not one of them would ever dare to tell me how to live my life, and none of them would ever want me to walk away from doing the right thing. I've raised a fighting family, children, stepchildren, grandchildren and on down. My maiden name was Muller, a good German girl. We learned the hard way the price of turning away from a battle. You're a professor; perhaps you are familiar with the words of Pastor Martin Niemoller?"

Ben nodded, as Ellie recited quietly, but forcefully,

"Als die Nazis die Kommunisten holten,

habe ich geschwiegen;

ich war ja kein Kommunist.

Als sie die Sozialdemokraten einsperrten,

habe ich geschwiegen;

ich war ja kein Sozialdemokrat.

Als sie die Gewerkschafter holten,

habe ich nicht protestiert;

ich war ja kein Gewerkschafter.

Als sie die Juden holten,

habe ich nicht protestiert;

ich war ja kein Jude.

Als sie mich holten,

gab es keinen mehr, der protestierte"

After Ellie fell silent, it was George, to the others' surprise, who quietly spoke the translation.

"First the Nazis came…

Then they came for the communists, and I did not speak out-

because I was not a communist;

Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out-

because I was not a socialist;

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out-

because I was not a trade unionist;

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out-

because I was not a Jew;

Then they came for me-

and there was no one left to speak out for me."

George got up and walked over to give Ellie a kiss on her wrinkled cheek as the others stared in amazement at the group clown, no sign of his trademark grin. He knelt by the old woman's side.

"It was a terrible time. They came for the gays then too, and the Christians. My great-grandfather died in Auschwitz, along with my grandfather's three brothers and two sisters. No one knows what happened to my great-grandmother, but it's believed she died on the way to the camp. Only my grandmother survived but she was always sickly and kind of sad. My mom said Grandma married my grandfather, a happy go lucky Irishman because he brought joy into her life. Grandma always said that if people had spoken out when it started, it never could have happened. Such horrible things were done right under people's noses, but the people all said it wasn't their business. I vowed never to be that kind of person who stays silent when wrongs are done. Thank you, Ellie, for standing by us now. I promise you, I will do everything I can to make sure you are kept safe and the others too."

Looking at the young man's serious expression, Ben felt his chest tighten with emotion. There was pride mixed with something else. When had the young redhead become so important to him? At that moment, while he was still trying to cope with these strong new feelings he'd just become aware of, he felt his phone vibrate. He realized guiltily as he saw that it was Michael that he hadn't thought to call his boyfriend since he left the hospital hours ago. Excusing himself, he walked into the kitchen to answer.

"Hello, Michael, I'm so sorry, I'm at Ellie's with..."

"Why the hell haven't you called me? I've been going crazy here! I've called Brian like a million times and he hasn't answered! What's going on with him, where is he? Is he okay?"

Brian. Michael was worried about where Brian was. Well, at least Michael hadn't been worried about his own boyfriend, Ben thought, his guilt feelings fading as his annoyance grew.

"Brian is still at the hospital with Justin. You know a person has to leave his cell phone off inside the hospital. I'm sure he'll return your call when he can."

"Why is he still there? Carl said the kid was fine, that all he had was a graze to his arm."

"They kept Justin for observation since he struck his head. Brian stayed to keep an eye on him, make sure he was safe," Ben spoke patiently. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table and covered his eyes with his hand, propping his head up with his elbow, which rested on the table. He could tell this was going to be one of "those conversations," where it took ages to talk Michael out of near hysteria over perceived neglect by Brian. Suddenly he felt a pair of warm, firm hands massaging his tense shoulders. Without looking, he knew it was George. He bit his lip at the rush of pleasure that flooded his body. It felt too good, and he knew he should stop the young man, yet it was just a massage, he told himself. It wasn't like he would let it go too far.

As he felt lips touching the back of his neck, Ben knew he was going to have a very hard time stopping short of too far. Almost as if the hazel eyed man were standing there smirking at his predicament, he imagined he could hear Brian's voice whispering to him, "A very hard time, Professor."

Ben stifled a groan as he listened to Michael's litany of complaints while his own sweet torture continued.

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Brian stood just outside Justin's hospital room, and leaned wearily against the wall. The police officer on guard, Officer Mann, looked up and silently offered him a chair. Brian shook his head, smiling slightly in acknowledgment of the offer. It had been a hell of a long day, for both him and Mann, who, Brian had heard from Carl, had been on duty since eight that morning. Brian had done an early run with Justin at six that morning, which seemed like a lifetime ago now.

It was well past midnight. Mann had gone home briefly to grab a meal and a change of clothes. He'd volunteered to come back for guard duty when Carl's chief had balked at pulling another officer off patrol to do it. Brian narrowed his eyes as he looked at the officer, who appeared to be about his age. He hadn't cruised Brian and wasn't registering on his gaydar. While Brian didn't strictly hold to the view he'd often expressed that there were only two types of straights, those who hated you to your face and those who did it behind your back, a gay-friendly straight male past a certain age made him nervous. When they were armed, they made him doubly nervous.

"So, why are you here?" Brian asked, his voice pitched low so as not to carry to the sleeping blond in the hospital bed ten feet away.

Mann gave him a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised. Brian had to hand it to him. That was one of his own patented looks. As Mann shrugged, the same small shrug he'd given his partner, Perez, out at the track earlier, Brian's lips twitched in amusement. The guy certainly had the cool thing down pat. But it still didn't explain why he was here, working an extra shift, possibly pissing off his commanding officer, who wasn't convinced a gunned down gay runner needed all this protection.

"It isn't the coffee, that's for damn sure," the officer said dryly, making a face at the cup in his hand. "But to put your mind at ease, it isn't because I have designs on either you or your boy in there, sexual or otherwise." He smiled suddenly and it transformed his rather angular face into something charming. It was Brian's turn to raise an eyebrow quizzically.

"Pity," he said, just to provoke a reaction. "I can recall a few good times with policemen...on stakeouts. I'm Brian, by the way." He held out his hand.

Mann laughed and took the proffered hand, shaking it firmly. "I know, but it's still nice to be formally introduced. I'm Tim, and forever thankful my father talked my mother, an English lit major, out of naming me Thomas. And your 'stake-outs' are a bit legendary on the force to those of us who are open to such stories."

Brian raised both eyebrows this time and made a tsking noise. "To think that cops would kiss and tell. So I take it you are one of those open to listening to such stories, but..." He waited expectantly.

"But I'm not gay, correct. My brother is though. He lives in California now, San Fran, with his partner. And I believe you know my step-grandmother."

Brian thought for a moment, then smiled. Ellie. Tim Mann grinned as he saw the look on Brian's face. His cool facade was dropped as he talked about the indomitable Ellie.

"Yeah, Ellie is part of the extended family, thanks to Granddad getting married again after he was widowed in his sixties. She made him a very happy man for the last ten years of his life. He was her third husband, I think. Or maybe her fourth, I can't keep track. I'm not sure even she knows, to tell you the truth. But she's something, isn't she? Quite frankly, it was a toss-up whether I volunteered for duty here or went there and watched the house since you've got those other kids staying with her. She settled it, ordering me here to keep an eye on Justin, saying he was a magnet for trouble. Pete, that's Sgt. Perez, promised to make sure squad cars stayed close to her place all night in case she needed any help. So here I am. Besides, Granny Ellie can outshoot me any day."

"She has guns out there?" Brian wondered why he was shocked.

"Of course she does. Knows how to use them, and how to make sure they're safe. Don't worry. She won't be shooting any of the kids by accident."

When he thought about it, it made sense. A woman that age living alone in a relatively isolated area. One of the knots of worry that had been lingering since Ben had left to take the three other runners back to Ellie's dissolved. He wished he'd relaxed enough to talk to the officer hours ago. Mann was giving him an understanding look.

"You willing to sit now if I go get another chair? I think there's one right inside the room we can borrow."

"Yeah," Brian glanced toward the sleeping blond again. "I think that would be a good idea. It's going to be a long night. I'll get us both another cup of that crappy coffee from the nurses while you get the chair."

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Justin smiled as he looked at the rumpled man sleeping in the recliner chair placed next to his bed. Brian's auburn hair was sticking up every which way, and his long legs stretched out past the leg rest on the chair. His chin was covered with stubble, and he was wearing a set of ugly green scrubs that one of the staff must have loaned him. Justin thought he had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

"Amusing, eh? Like what you have reduced me to, brat?" Justin started. The full lips spoke without the eyes ever appearing to open.

"You're awake?" Justin immediately cursed his own stupidity. Duh, of course Brian was awake. Rarely was sleep-talking that much to the point.

Brian smiled slowly, and Justin stared open mouthed at the sexy sight. How did the man manage to look so good in borrowed generic clothes, unshaved, after what was probably a horrible night's sleep in a chair? He could feel his body respond and wished he had more than a thin hospital gown and sheet covering his own body. Brian immediately noticed.

"Well," he drawled, "I was going to ask how you were feeling, but it seems you are feeling fine this fair morning. All parts in working order, I presume? Shall I come over there and take care of that for you?" He grinned wolfishly at the smaller man as Justin turned bright red and looked toward the door nervously.

"Brian! There are all windows over there! Anybody can look in!" He practically squeaked, yet at the same time, he edged over in the bed, in an implicit invitation for Brian to make good on his offer.

"Good point, I guess I'd better be quick, huh? Or sneaky." With that, Brian got up with a graceful movement and strolled to the side of the bed closest to the windows into the hallway. Using his body to block the view of Justin on the bed, he bent down and kissed the blond, his hand sliding under the sheet to stroke the young man's swollen cock.

"God, Brian," Justin gasped. Using his free hand to whip the privacy curtain closed around the bed, Brian quickly pulled the sheet back and Justin's hospital gown up, exposing the erect cock nestled in its bed of blond hair.

"I do think this needs prompt attention," Brian told him, eyes gleaming. Justin panted, his full lips falling open as Brian kept up his steady stroking for a few moments, watching him with his intense hazel eyes. The idea that one of the nurses could come in at any second only added to Justin's arousal. Just as he was about to explode, Brian bent down and took the head of his cock in his mouth, sucking firmly.

"Fuck, Brian," Justin breathed, biting his hand to keep from screaming as his orgasm ripped through his body. The sight of Brian swallowing every drop of his spunk made his climax last even longer.

Brian sat back up and primly pulled Justin's gown back down just as they heard the sound of someone entering the room There was a discreet cough before the curtain was opened.

"Hello, may I speak with...Mr. Taylor is it?" An Asian woman in a labcoat, accompanied by a half dozen other younger labcoat garbed men and women glanced down at a clipboard in her hand. "My name is Dr. Mantino, I am your doctor. May I take a look at your wound please?"

The examination was conducted quickly, with Brian asking all the questions, and receiving assurances from the doctor that the wound was healing well and would not present any reason for keeping Justin in the hospital. He was to follow-up with a family doctor for outpatient care in a few days, just to make sure the arm continued to heal cleanly, without infection. As long as the neurologist agreed, Justin would be discharged that day. The neurologist was expected to see him within the hour to conduct his own consult. Until then, the police guard and bar against visitors would remain in effect, the doctor promised.

Once Dr. Mantino and her entourage left, Brian looked at Justin somberly.

"So, how do you feel? No bullshit."

"As I told you and the doctor, I feel great. Better than great after my early morning wake-up treatment." Justin gave Brian a shy smile. Brian raised an eyebrow and Justin rushed to be more specific. "Seriously. My arm hardly hurts and my head has just a slight headache. Nothing more than I get half the time since the bashing. I was lucky."

"Yes, you were. We're going to talk about that. What in the hell were you thinking of? Running off by yourself like that, Justin? You knew there were threats made. Not that any of us ever thought someone would take a shot at you, but still, you know the drill! No one was to head off on their own like that and most especially not you."

Justin looked at Brian wide-eyed, startled by his sudden change. Gone was the teasing banter from the lover who brought him to ecstasy so easily. Brian's voice was quiet but cold. This was the stern coach whose rules he flouted at practice. Justin flushed as he recalled the events from the previous day that led up to the shooting.

"I was upset. You set me up to look bad in front of those others, in front of Pilcher," he began sullenly.

"I set you up?" Brian repeated. "Who decided not to run the pace he was told to run? I tried to help you win, the way I know you can. You are the one who decided to run a completely different kind of race. One that led to failure. So who set you up to fail?"

"You knew I would lose, that was why you had us race."

"And how would I know that, Justin? You are the fastest runner on that team? How could I possibly know that you would choose to ignore my advice and let slower runners beat you?" Brian folded his arms and waited.

Justin just hung his head.

Brian spoke softly. "Even worse than losing a practice race because you lost your head and ran an unsmart race, Justin, was that you lost your head afterward, and ran off on your own, putting yourself at risk. Someone was lying in wait, counting on you doing something like that, if not yesterday, then one day. Someone wants you to stop running, Justin, and is counting on you being alone, a solitary runner, so that he can stop you. Are you going to play right into his hands like that?"

"What choice do I have? I am alone." The blue eyes looked back at Brian, filled with tears. "I have to run, Brian. It is the only thing keeping me sane."

"But you don't have to run alone. You have me. And from what Ben tells me, you have at least three very loyal friends who demand to stay by your side. Hell, Daphne is insisting she'll become a lesbian if she has to. You have Ben, and Ellie, and trust me, when you have Ellie, you have an army. The woman is related to half of Pittsburgh. So you are far from alone. But we all need to know that we can trust you to stay with us too. We're going to be running uphill on this one, baby, swimming against the current a lot of the way, and we'll all be drafting on each other some of the time. No one of us can afford to do this alone. You may be the front runner, but from now on, you've got to learn to be part of the team. All for one and one for all. Got that?"

The tears were spilling from the blue eyes by this point, but at least Justin was nodding. Brian let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't reached the stubborn kid, if Justin hadn't agreed to go along, but he felt fairly sure that once the blonde's word was given, he would keep to it. He pulled him close now and let him cry. There was time enough to get into all that Carl had told him once he was back with his friends. There was still a press conference to prepare the runner for, and that would take most of the morning. Brian suspected it was going to take all of his advertising expertise to handle this situation.

First things first. Brian needed to call Cynthia and get some power suits delivered before anyone saw him or Justin. Then he had to contact Ben. They had a college administration to coerce.

Fucking Ben Bruckner. This was the last time Brian did him any favors, he thought ruefully, not for the first time. But as he held the small blond close, Brian knew he was full of shit. Ben probably did Brian the biggest favor of his life when he brought Justin Taylor into it.

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