Fusion


A/N Lots of thanks to my Beta’s Kris and Thyme You both are the bestest ever! Thank you for making my stories look good and readable. Another huge thank you to my wonderful readers who have written me and encouraged me to start to write again. (((Hugs))) to you all

This story is dedicated to my dear sweet Sarah who brought me out of the darkest place I have ever known and showed me how to live and love again.


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Preface

 

To be honest I do not even know where to fucking begin. Who would have thought Brian fucking Kinney would be writing his story? But here I am at my laptop, deep in thought as Justin gently rubs my back, in encouragement. I know in my heart if it were not for him I would be dead now. I would have taken my own life so I could have followed the only man I’ve ever truly loved into death. Justin was murdered fifteen years ago to the day, and though this is the anniversary of his death, it is also the anniversary of his life. If it were not for the physical proof of him sitting beside me now, I would think that I had spent the last year suffering from insanity. But I digress, let me start from the beginning.

 

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Chapter one: Dying on the Inside

 

I sit on the floor with my back resting against the side of my bed. My thoughts are deep in the past, and my heart still aches for what could have been. Unfortunately I can’t turn back time; no one can. After all these years I still long for Justin, the young man who touched my life, and made me whole, so many years ago.

When I think about him I can still taste him on my lips, and smell his scent all around me. We were so young and innocent, and even then the world was already trying to rip us apart.

Justin and I met when we were both ten years old. I was the boy from the wrong side of the tracks, and his family had money so they were considered to be in a higher class. My father was a factory worker who drank and could barely even hold his job, let alone, raise a family. While Justin’s father was obviously able to support his family, it does not mean he was a good father. Though we lived in two different worlds, one thing cemented us together; the marks of abuse. We both were suffering, and neither one of us ever fit in with the rest of the world around us. Justin endured so much pain, yet he was always able to see the positive in the worst of situations, and I was the cynical one. How I longed to be able to put a positive spin on the world the way he saw it.

I tilt my head back and blow out the smoke that lingers in my lungs from the joint I am smoking. My heart aches when I think of sweet Justin. One day he was so deeply imbedded in my life and the next day he was gone without any warning. His family said he fell down the stairs, but I knew he was pushed. The problem was, I had no proof. Who would have ever believed a punk ass kid like me?

Even though professionally I have surpassed what my father could have ever accomplished with his life, I still feel as though I have failed, because Justin is not with me now. I look down at the photograph laying on my lap. It was taken a week before Justin passed away when we were both 16. God he was so beautiful, with blond hair and blue eyes that always seemed to be able to look deep into my soul. He knew me better than anyone ever could, and now I feel so lost. Not even my best friend knows about Justin.

I met Mikey about a month after Justin’s death. Michael and I became friends instantly. We shared almost everything with each other, but I have never felt it was a necessity to tell anyone about Justin, not even him. I simply built a wall deep around my heart, and let everyone think I was a cold, heartless asshole with no compassion. The funny thing is, none of that is true, it is all a fucking façade, because if you looked deep into my heart you could see it was made of glass and easily broken. In fact it has been broken, and still is.

There is, actually, one other person who has seen my walls down, and that is my son Gus. He is only two, yet when he looks into my eyes I know in my heart that he sees the real me, and that scares me more than anything. That is why I have been slowly distancing myself from his life. I only see him when his mothers bring him to my loft. Even though I know who I am, I know where the façade ends, I still fear as a father that I will be like my own father. Gus deserves better than that. He deserves the whole world and everything in it.

Taking in a long drag from my joint I realize that I don’t even want to be here; breathing, barely existing. I long to take pills, slit my wrist, or maybe even scarfing. That would be the way to go! Fuck myself into a blaze of glory. I could be forever young and beautiful. I exhale the smoke and put out the joint in a nearby ashtray. I close my eyes, letting the tears slide down my cheeks as I get lost in my own misery.

Even as I wish for my own death I know I could never do it. I couldn‘t do that to Lindsay, Mikey or especially Gus. I can‘t even begin to think what it would do to Michael’s mother, Debbie, who has been so much more of a mother to me than my own could ever manage. I could never hurt them the way I was hurt. I could never put them through that kind of pain. But I can’t do this anymore either; it hurts too much to even breath. I wish there was a way I could leave this world without it hurting anybody.

Suddenly, I find myself calling out to a God I have never believed in. “Dear God! Fuck! I can't even think straight, but I can’t deal with this anymore. I can’t handle knowing my love is in another place without me. I am begging with everything that is in me to please release me from my sorrow. Please replace my spirit with another. I wish with all my heart and soul he could be with me now. That I could once again feel whole in this fucked up world. Without him I am nothing, and I know the longer I live this façade I truly will become a heartless asshole. I already feel it starting to consume me.”

I remain in the darkness with only the blue glow from the neon light over my bed reflecting shadows on me, and just for a moment I find solace in my own pain, letting it consume me. I bow my head and finally let loose the sobs that have been just below the surface. My chest is so heavy as I finally give into all the emotions that have been roiling inside me since Justin was killed, and I fervently wish my plea to God could really happen. I wish I could be with Justin again, but I know it is only an empty dream. I will simply have to continue on as I always do, slowly falling apart from the inside out.

I am startled out of my thoughts when I hear the door to the loft opening.

Mikey’s gentle voice travels to my ears. “Brian, are you in here?”

My whole body is shaking and I quickly try to stop my tears. I don’t want Mikey seeing me like this. I look down at the photo in my hand and I tuck it under my bed. I want to ignore him so much, but I know it’s not possible because he knows I’m here. I try my fucking damndest to hold as still as I can, but he still finds me in my room and I know he is startled by the sight of me.

He gasps out my name “Brian!”

I duck my head down, not wanting him to see the sorrow in my eyes.

Mikey sits down on the floor next to me and places a gentle hand under my chin, lifting my head so I can look him in the eye. “Brian what’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in days. You look like…” He pauses and takes a deep breath and gasps. “My God you look like your best friend just died. But I’m here, Brian, I’m here.”

I can’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah you’re here Mikey, you’re always here.” I can see the pain in his eyes from the harshness of my words. “That’s not a bad thing though.” I lean over and kiss him soundly on the lips, trying to distract him from asking questions. I am relieved to see his smile. Then his words hit me again. You look like you lost your best friend. Those words are more true than he will ever know.

 

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Mikey talked me into going to Woody’s, not that I protested too much. I needed to fuck a hot and willing trick long and hard to keep my mind occupied. No matter how down and depressed I may be, it's always a great satisfaction to see the look on my friends, Ted, Emmett and Michael’s faces, when I walk out of the bathroom yet again. I get so much joy out of it because it just confirms my great façade. I truly can be a heartless insensitive asshole, in their eyes anyway. As long as they think that, then my heart will be protected from breaking again.

When I walk out of the bathroom behind the trick I just fucked I am actually surprised to see my friends are not shooting me disgusted looks this time. In fact they are not even looking my way at all. They are sitting at a table with that fucking dried up tranny, Mysterious Marilyn. “What the fuck?!” I mumble under my breath. When in the hell did they all get into that psychic nonsense? She has tried talking to me in the past. I know she just wants my money and now she is fucking scamming my friends.

I walk over to the table and stand right next to Michael. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Michael, Emmet and Ted all jump a little and I can’t help but chuckle, because they all look like they’ve been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Mysterious Marilynn looks at me quizzically and then smiles while giving me a wink. “Well, well, look who we have here; the devil himself. Your friends happen to be worried about you.”

“Shit!" I mumble under my breath and glare at Michael. He shrinks back just a little and that is when I notice Marilyn has gathered up the cards she had on the table and she begins to shuffle. Then she starts to lay them down on the table in front of her, one at a time, placing them in a precise pattern. “Hmm, hmm…yes, yes that would explain a lot now wouldn’t it?” She looks up at me. “You have been hurt.”

“We’ve all been hurt,” I scoff.

She furrows her brows. “Yes, but your pain goes deep into you soul. You lost someone very close to you when you were a teenager. It says here that you were only sixteen, and he was your world, your everything.” Suddenly she gasps and then quickly gathers up her cards. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t continue.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I bite out, but inside my stomach is roiling. “Why the fuck would you say something so ridiculous? You’re a joke! All you want is to bilk everyone out of their hard earned money!”

She looks me straight in the eye and laughs. “Did I ask you for your money? You know I speak the truth.” She points her finger at me accusingly. “You don’t want anyone to know the truth of your heart. You think if you hide behind the persona you have created, that your heart will never be broken, again!”

I close my eyes tightly trying not to let her truthful words affect me but they do anyway. They fucking hit me in the core of my being because she’s so right. I open my eyes and glare at her. “ Fuck off!” I grab Mikey’s arm and he looks confused and hurt. “You coming, Mikey?”

Before he can answer I feel Marylyn’s hand on my shoulder, and I have no idea how she got to me so swiftly. She speaks very softly so only I can hear her. “I will not embarrass you any more in front of your friends, so I stopped the reading. I will tell you that the wish you made earlier tonight will come true; just not in the way you expect it.” Her eyes hold an expression that speaks of so much truth and personal experience. She takes a deep breath. “If things confuse you, or if you get scared, come talk to me. In fact, it is urgent you seek me out. Believe me, I know what you’re going through.” There is so much emotion in the last words she speaks that for the first time I feel I can truly relate to her somehow. She hands me her card before she walks away.

I flip the card in my hand and my head is swimming in confusion. How could she know about Justin, and how could she possibly know about my wish? I think about my earlier plea and laugh to myself. Like that is even fucking possible…leaving my body without actually dying, how absurd. But for some reason instead of tossing the fucking business card, like my better judgment is telling me to, I tuck it in my pocket.

I turn towards Michael and the others and see the perplexed looks on their faces. Thank goodness the others know not to talk, even though Emmett is shooting me a knowing look.

Mikey can’t let anything drop, though, and he instantly starts in on me. “What was she talking about, Brian? Who did you lose? What are you hiding?”

I look into his eyes and for the first time I see that he knows my persona is more of a façade than he could have possibly imagined. I laugh it off and put my arm around Mikey. “You don’t actually believe that shit, do you? She’s a fraud. She makes up stories so people think they are getting their money’s worth with all that fucking BS she is blasting.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“Michael tilts his head and looks at me intensely for a very long time. “Then why did you look like you saw a ghost?”

For a moment I am not sure what to say. I move my arm from around his shoulders and turn to face him. There is so much anger and confusion inside me that I can’t even explain everything that I heard just moments before. I place my hand on my best friend’s shoulder firmly, and look him directly in the eye. “Michael, listen to me. Are you listening?” He nods his head and swallows. I nod my head and growl gruffly. “Drop it! I don’t want to hear any more about the psychic cunt, got it?!”

When I start to walk away I am thankful for Emmett. He is very perceptive when it comes to noticing what’s going on in the world around him. He gives me a knowing nod and then walks to Michael, putting his arms around him. “Now, now, baby, let the big bad wolf go brood by himself while we go get you something yummy to drink.”

For the first time tonight a smile crosses my lips as I walk away. Maybe. I think, I’m wrong…but maybe Emmett does see the true me, too. He just knows enough to let it be.

 

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