Justin Comes Home

Chapter 11

POV JUSTIN

Oh my God. Brian was in surgery for 24 *hours* and died on the table twice. Each time, the surgeons were miraculously able to revive him and now he's under constant supervision in ICU. I can't go in yet- they said it will be awhile as he has to be more stable.

And of course, I'm an absolute wreck. I've been curled in a ball on the floor of the fucking waiting room bawling ever since we got here- I've vaguely heard Deb's voice, Mom's too- but no one can reach me right now. Except the doctor. I'm not normally a praying man, but I am right now. I've been praying this whole time while sending all the love in my heart, soul and mind to Brian telling him silently to hang on.

What Ethan did to him is something I can't think about- I don't know the details and I told whoever approached me to fill me in that I wasn't ready to hear it quite yet. I saw Brian. He was hardly recognizable he was so tortured. The doctors were shocked Brian was alive when the paramedics got to him at Ethan's, shocked that he lasted the ride to the hospital (God, that was so hard sitting by Brian in the ambulance, the man and soul I love more than I love myself mangled almost beyond recognition)- and they were even more shocked that he was even conscious, let alone conscious and strong enough to try to warn me to stay away when I went into Ethan's apartment. By all accounts, I overheard one of the paramedics say to another, Brian should have been dead one if not two days ago.

Well, no one is stronger than Brian Kinney, so as surprised as everyone else is, I hold a grim pride that I'm not at all surprised. Well- I'm a little amazed. But I'm always amazed when it comes to Brian. Like JT is when it comes to RAGE.

Ethan's dead now. Rotting somewhere I hope. I suddenly realize I'm coming out of some sort of haze to find myself rocking back and forth in a ball like a little kid, saying Brian's name over and over and over, bawling - my eyes are practically swollen shut. This must be what Brian was saying that I was doing on the loft floor after Ethan lunged at me. I come out of this haze because a hand on my shoulder with a white sleeve is gently shaking me and a voice is insistently repeating my name.

It must be the doctor- I look up, my eyes mere slits but I see that it is. "Doctor Flanders?" I say in a meek, hoarse voice.

"Mr. Taylor, there you are!" He smiles. "Mr. Taylor, Brian is kind of a medical miracle-" my heart leaps, "-as you know, he's in ICU, but despite all that's happened; the ordeal he's been through; all the blood he's lost and torture he's suffered; all the medications and sedatives he's on- despite all of this, he woke up a few minutes ago. He whispered your name. Knowing him as I do now, it appears to me that he's worried about your safety.

"If you make it VERY brief, you can see him and reassure him you're okay; I think him seeing you alive and well will help his peace of mind greatly, which will help him push towards recovery. It will also help if you tell him that he is amazingly likely to make it; I mean, he'll have a lot of rehab and there's going to extensive follow up- and he'll be here quite awhile, not to mention that I suspect he'll need a *lot* of counseling down the road after the harrowing ordeal and suffering he's been through- but he's going to make it." He smiles kindly at me as I bawl even harder than I had been- with relief.

I've already leapt to my feet and he leads the way, knowing this time to hurry before I run him down from behind in my rush to see my Brian. I peek through the window of the room as I try to quiet my loud sobs so I don't startle him. I gently open the door. I can barely see Brian under all the bandages, tubes and equipment but I do. Paler with myriad bruises, and a bit more drawn than usual- but he's just as beautiful. His eyes are closed but all the machines are beeping proving he's alive and that makes him even more beautiful to me than ever. I walk up to him quietly and sit by him on the chair next to the bed. I take the long, strong, tapered fingers of his left hand which are the only unbandaged part of that hand; I'm very gentle and I hold them softly. I look him up and down, seeing up close the extensive bandaging covering him all over and the casts he now wears on his legs and his other arm; I literally shudder. One of his eyes is nearly swollen shut and is a deep shade of purple and his neck is criss-crossed with lacerations, probably inflicted by razors. Fuck- it *is* a miracle he survived! He looks like a torture victim of some vicious sadistic warlord…

I watch his face and finally his eyelids flutter open and he looks over at me, mostly with his one unswollen eye. "Oh, thank God." He whispers hoarsely, the relief in his voice evident despite his barely audible statement.

I smile, always amazed how Brian thinks of me first- even after having been tortured for 3+ days. My heart swells beyond the confines of my ribcage with love for this man. "I agree, Brian." I say in a soft voice. "Fuck, I love you so much- I love you so *much*, Brian!" I gently kiss his fingers as he looks at me, hardly able to move. "Brian, thank you for being a medical miracle as the doc said. I wouldn't have survived if you hadn't."

He looks a little confused and chooses to ignore me. "Jush… how are you? He didn't hurtchoo?" He's slurring from the meds and he has a fat lip.

"I'm so much better now that you're here, away from satan, safe- alive and safe, and going to be okay!"

He closes his eyes in obvious pain and swallows hard. "Water?" He croaks.

I slowly raise the head of his bed with the little button near his hip, just enough so it's comfortable to drink without having to lower his chin too far. I take the glass of water from the nightstand and point the straw carefully between his parched lips. He sips the water gratefully and quietly protests when I try to pull the straw away, thinking he's finished.

I smile and let him know to let me know when he's had enough. Then I frown, knowing that he probably hasn't had water in days, at Ethan's and then going through surgery. I watch him as he drinks more greedily now, eyes closed, until the straw slurps the last drops at the bottom. "More?" I flash to Oliver Twist and smile at him.

"Let's see what Doc Flanders says- you're getting fluids, though, Brian. You have an IV." Still, I know: an IV replenishes the body, but does nothing to slake thirst. "Do you want me to go ask the Doc real quick if it's okay?"

He nods slightly.

I go and the doc says one more glass, but then only ice chips. Normally, it would be only chips but the doctor had noted how terribly dehydrated Brian was, and even the heavy nourishment of the IV could be supplemented with some water. "Just make sure he goes slow and doesn't gulp it or inhale any water or he'll aspirate." Doctor Flanders warns.

I hurry back in and halt in my tracks at the sight in front of me. Fuck me. No one, especially Brian, should be in this much pain. No one, especially Brian, should have been through what he has and is going through. No one, especially Brian, should be basically mummified in a hospital bed. It infuriates me and I hate Ethan more than I have ever hated anyone or anything in my entire life. I shake my head to put these thoughts and feelings behind me for the moment and go back to Brian's bedside.

I tell him what the doc said and pour more water. I put the ice chips I brought in beside the pitcher of water. As I lower the straw to his lips he refuses its entry into his mouth like he has something to say. I pull away and wait. "Sunsh, you're so shtupid…" he slurs.

Surprised at this, I ask him why.

"You fuckin' tried to save me from fuckfayshe by going to him. I would've rather died on that bed than shee you anywhere near him again."

I look at him, startled. "There was NO way, Brian, that I wouldn't have done everything in my power to get you free from that sick fuck! How could you say that? As I said, I wouldn't have- can't ever- survive without you. Our souls are intertwined- our hearts are intertwined- our existence is intertwined. And I think you know that- you certainly demonstrate it. Brian, you would have done what I did if I had been in your situation and you know it! So don't call me 'shtupid' unless you're willing to wear that label yourself. Now, here!" I lower the straw towards his beautiful if not overly swollen lips.

He rolls his eyes at my 'schmaltz'- to the best of his ability- but accepts the straw.

"And drink it in small sips, slow. It's all you get for the moment."

He pulls back. "Don' mother me, Sunsh. I hate that."

I just gently put the straw back between his lips and sigh. While he's slowly sipping his water, I decide to tell him what little I know about what to expect.

"You're going to have a lot of work ahead of you- after staying here awhile- in rehab and counseling and everything… but you're going to be okay." This whole fucking time, tears are spilling from my eyes onto the sheet by his hand.

"You're okay, though?"

"I am now."

"How long was I with that torturing fucker?"

"Three days. I was in a coma- I didn't know; and the cops didn't know where he'd taken you. Ethan's apartment wasn't under his name- they couldn't find you."

"But you knew." He rasps.

"Shhh- no more talking okay? Yes, I knew. I could feel you and I was terrified; the day I woke up we went to get you."

"He shot me again, didn't he?"

"Shhhh! Brian, the doc said I could only be here very briefly and you need to save your strength. Please- for me." Cheap shot, but I knew it'd work and he'd stay quiet. "He did shoot you again in the hip area; they put in pins I think but I didn't hear the rundown of what all happened. I'll ask the doc later and when you feel stronger he or I will tell you. Right now, focus on healing and resting and doing what the docs and nurses tell you to. I may not be able to be in here with you very often, but I'm not leaving this hospital-"

He starts to protest and I raise a finger to my lips. "-I'm not, so fuck you and get better."

"Mr. Taylor, you need to come back to the waiting room now." The doctor says, poking his head in the door.

I sigh. "Brian, I'm here with you, I love you, and we'll get through this together. I'll visit as often as they let me- and they know best."

"Mr. Taylor, please…!" The doctor pokes his head back in and sounds annoyed but doesn't raise his voice.

I kiss Brian's hand, tell him I love him again, and reluctantly leave. As soon as the door closes behind me I break down. The doctor comes up and gives my arm a reassuring squeeze before going in to Brian's room to monitor his status. Before he gets all the way in I grab his sleeve and ask him quietly if Brian's in pain.

"Shouldn't be right now, Mr. Taylor. There will be a long row to hoe, but he seems very resilient. And the bond you two share I think has helped him deal with a lot of the pain and ordeals he went through." He goes into the room and I watch through the window. It appears Brian's fallen back to sleep. Good.

With heavy feet I go back to the waiting room where the others anxiously await news.

"He was remarkably lucid- groggy of course, but for what he's been through… which I can't and don't want to imagine… he's strong and going to make it. The doc called him a medical miracle." I'm sobbing, so I don't know how much everyone understands of what I am trying to tell them, but I don't much care.

I feel hugs and hands all over me and I want to run and hide and get away from everyone, even if they mean well. I find myself shrugging them off and running down the hall to the exit. I want a smoke and be alone.

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