Justin Comes Home

Chapter 3

POV: JUSTIN

Yeah, I'm scared. Scared that Ethan's going to make good on his threats once he realizes I'm not with him anymore. I don't know how all this started - it was like a week after the RAGE party when it first happened. I guess I'd called out Brian's name during a dream or something, and I was suddenly awakened to a searing pain in my gut and found Ethan, a look of complete fury on his face, pummeling me. He was screaming how it was the 'last time' he'd hear me call out 'that bastard's' name. I was shocked and tried to get away from him - but it was like he had fifty fists and I couldn't escape them.

Yeah. That was when it started. When he finally stopped hitting me that night, he yelled at me to go take a shower and clean myself up - he said that I was disgusting. I was going to leave right then, except for the last thing he said before rolling over and going back to sleep: 'If you even think of leaving me, or telling anybody, keep in mind that I have a gun. And I'll kill your precious Brian Kinney. I'll kill him. Then I'll kill you after showing you Kinney's head.'

That stopped me cold.

And it still stops me cold, and now that Brian has found me at McDonald's - completely by accident - I know he won't let me go back to Ethan no matter what the fucker's threatened. We're at the loft now and I'm shaking and crying like a fucking child. He holds me gently, not saying anything - he doesn't have to. He knows. He's been through it for a near lifetime with his father. He simply hugs me, careful not to hurt my bruised body as he kisses the top of my head.

I cling to him, my fear overwhelming any semblance of pride that I have. Hell, who am I kidding. I have no pride. Not anymore. None. I let some dirtbag fill me with romantic notions, drag me away from the only man I could ever really love, then beat the shit out of me. Repeatedly. Sure, after a beating Ethan would get all lovey-dovey, beg for forgiveness, say it would never happen again. But it always did happen again. Sooner or later, it always did. And stupid me: I stayed. He threatened my life if I didn't. Worse, he threatened Brian's. And again, now that Brian knows, I'm certain he won't let me anywhere near Ethan. What terrifies me is what Ethan is going to do about that.

"Brian..." I whisper.

"Yes?"

"I have to go back to him, Brian. He's going to hurt you."

Brian sighs. "We've been through this, Sunshine. You aren't going back to him and no, he's not going to hurt me."

I knew that's what he would say. It's just about the same as he's said the last 50 times I've brought Ethan up. "Brian, I told you - he's got a gun. And he's sick, Brian - I know he'll try to kill you. Me, too. He won't stop 'till he's killed us both. I can't put you in danger..."

"Justin, my God. Listen to yourself! Do you think I would actually allow you to go back to that sick fuck?"

My anger flares. "You can't 'allow' me to do anything, Brian!"

He sighs. "That's not how I meant it. I meant that I'm not going to have him hurt you ever again. Ever."

"What are you going to do? He'll come after you, Brian. And me. I know he will."

He sighs again. "I'll talk to Carl and Mel. See what we can do." With that, he pulls me gently towards the bed. "Come on. Let's get some rest. It's been a long day."

And even though it's only 4:30 in the afternoon, I would have to agree. I feel like someone's sucked all the energy out of me. I watch Brian strip and climb under the duvet, yawning, and suddenly, I feel like I have the energy of 10 men. I'm home. And I can't believe my home took me back. Brian took me back.

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

I wake up and it's dark out. Brian's not in bed anymore but I notice the glow from his laptop against the wall. I sit up and watch his silhoette through the frosted glass panels. I watch him for a long time. He's almost motionless, just clicking the mouse and scrolling every so often. I wonder to myself what he's looking at or working on. I finally get up and pull on my briefs, wincing slightly from my bruises. I shuffle out of the bedroom and make a slight noise so as not to startle him.

"Bri?" I whisper.

He looks over and smiles. "Hey, bedhead..."

I grin back. "You're one to talk. You've perfected the 'just fucked' look."

He motions for me to come over so I do, sitting on his lap. "What are you--" It's then that I see the words 'abuse' and 'domestic violence' on the screen. "Brian! Ethan and I... that wasn't domestic violence!"

He rolls his eyes. "Like fuck it wasn't! Just because you and Ian aren't breeders doesn't mean that what you went through wasn't domestic violence. Here, read this." Brian clicks on one of the sites. As I read the stories of several women, I realize that he's right.

"I'm a fucking battered woman?"

Brian puts his hands on my cheeks; his palms are warm. "No, Justin. You WERE a battered PERSON. There's a big difference." He clears his throat. "We need to get a restraining order. I called Mel and she said she'd help us."

"'Us'?"

"Well, she seems to think that given his - Ian's - threats against me, that I should get one, too."

I look down. "Sorry."

"You aren't the sick fuck. Ian is. There's nothing to be sorry about."

"I wish I'd never met the bastard."

Brian smiles softly. "Me too. But we can't rewrite history."

I put my hands over his on my face. "At least it IS history." Brian says nothing and he looks away, his expression suddenly pained. I'm puzzled by his reaction. "Brian?" He pulls his hands away and logs off the computer.

"Brian? What? What's wrong? You believe me, don't you? I'll never leave you again."

"There are no locks on the door, Justin. Just get away from Ian, that's all I want for you. You leave me if you nee--"

"Oh for fuck's sake, you're kidding me, right? Brian, even if you shoved me out of the door, I'd wait for you on the other side! You're never getting rid of me! That is, if you'll have me." I add. I can see the wheels turning and the doubt in his eyes. "I'll never leave, Brian. Never. Brian: never."

His expression becomes unreadable and he shrugs. "Never say never, Sunshine."

"What has gotten into you, Brian? Is it that you don't want me? What's with the sudden mood change?"

He rakes his fingers through his hair and gently pushes me off his lap. I kneel on the floor so I can look him in the eyes. He doesn't say anything for a long time. Then he takes a deep breath: "You know, I'm still going to trick. And I'm not going to give you roses or floor picnics. I may have changed a little since you left that party, but I'm never going to be some kind of romantic dipshit no matter what. If you can't handle that, we can be friends; I'll still help you with this... with this mess." He gestures towards the computer which has been turned off but which moments ago displayed sites about domestic violence. "But I don't have a lovey-dovey bone in my body. If that's something you're still wanting, we should call it quits now. Before I.... before it goes too far."

My jaw has dropped. "Brian, I don't want you to change! Look where romance landed me! Black and blue and broken with a madman threatening to kill the man I love - and me, as well! Brian, I have never wanted you to change - I never did. I just stopped understanding how you communicate. And the way you communicate is more romantic than all the flowers and chocolate in Pittsburgh! I'll never stop understanding how you say things again. Believe me.

"And I want it to go 'too far'. More than anything."

Brian eyes me, apparently weighing my words. After a few moments, his expression relaxes. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding and I grin at him.

Just then the phone rings, startling both of us. "Fuck!" I mutter as Brian lifts the receiver.

"It's your dime. Speak." Then his expression changes and he's quiet. His eyes widen and then narrow in anger. "Listen you fucking piece of worthless shit, you come anywhere near Justin, I will turn you into a nasty stain on the sidewalk!" With that, Brian slams the phone down, seething.

"It's started, hasn't it..? He's found out already..."

"Justin, nothing's started."

"Shit! He probably called my work. He does that at least 20 times a day. You know, checking up on me. They probably told him I left with a tall, handsome guy. He's cruel but he's not stupid. He can put two and two together. Fuck!"

"Justin, calm down."

"What did he say?"

"Not much. Something about knowing where I live. Hackneyed, empty threats." Brian stands up and goes to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge.

I shudder. "Those threats are anything but empty, Brian." I hug myself, feeling cold all of a sudden. "Anything but!" I repeat.

"Justin, for fuck's sake. That piece of shit can kiss my ass, but he can't kick it. I can take care of myself."

"With a gun he can, Brian. With a gun he can kick your ass. With a gun, he can kill you."

"No one's killing anyone. Except me killing him, if he hurts you again."

I find that I'm shaking and that now familiar fear grips me as though Ethan were actually in the room. Brian hands me a water and notices that my hands are shaking.

"Hey... calm down, Justin! No one's going to hurt you…" He pulls me into a hug. "God, you're shaking like a leaf, Justin!" But I can't help it; it's as though the quaking starts in my core and radiates out. He holds me, trying to still me . "Shhhhh. Don't let him do this to you. He can't hurt you anymore."

I wish I could take his words to heart; I really do. But it's not me I'm worried about. It's Brian. And it's how crazy Ethan is.

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