Justin Comes Home

Chapter 6

POV BRIAN

I wake up to a very tired looking Justin propped up on an elbow, watching me. "Justin, did you sleep?"

"Er… no, not really."

"Justin you need to sleep. Sleep helps you heal." I kiss him on the forehead and I gently caress his battered torso. Then I get up and pad over to the phone, not bothering with a robe yet. I call Cynthia and get an earful about the account meeting I missed yesterday because of finding Justin. I tell her briefly that a good friend was having trouble and it couldn't be avoided. I then tell her I'll be taking the rest of the week off at least and hang up, not bothering to wait for the next earful about that. I love her dearly, and she's been my assistant so long, I can forgive her for sometimes getting impatient. But, I *am* her boss.

I walk back to the bed to find Justin staring at me. "Justin, you've seen me naked a million times. Quit staring!" I admonish.

"Maybe, but I never tire of it. And I've missed it. Terribly." I roll my eyes and climb back under the covers. "Hey do you have any food in the house?"

I sigh. "Some. And we have delivery." Justin nods and squirms closer to me. "How do you feel this morning?" I ask gently.

"Tired. Sore. Scared. Terrified, actually."

He's nothing if not honest, I think to myself. "Well, take a nap, take a hot shower, and don't be scared or terrified."

Justin gets a small smile on his face. "You're always so practical. I've missed that too." He whispers. He then gets up and goes into the kitchen. I roll my eyes - of course it's food first regardless of my 'practical' suggestions. I hear the refrigerator door open and Justin groaning. "You have a wilted head of lettuce, guava juice, some stale carrots and rotten peaches! Brian, you have to clean this out!" I then hear the bread box open. "Well, at least you have bread…" He calls out to me. "But not much to put on it!" About five minutes later he comes into the bedroom with a tray. He's made toast with peanut butter and there are two glasses of guava juice. He sets the tray between us on the bed. "Here." He says, holding out a piece of the toast. "Eat."

I take a bite of the toast in his hand and take a drink.

"Good?"

"It tastes like peanut butter on toast, Justin."

He sighs. "Okay, whatever. So what do we do today?"

"Rattle around, sleep, watch TV, call people. I need to talk to Carl and Mel for a status on the restraining orders and the case against Ethan in general."

"I definitely want to talk to Debbie. I've missed her."

"She's missed you. And you need to talk to your mother."

He nods, munching on his toast. "I have spoken with her - she thinks Ethan is God's gift to our family. He acts like the perfect son-in-law around her."

I snort. "Yeah, and he's a mostly successful artist, more age-appropriate for you than I am, he gives you rings and romance, and probably never swears around her."

"Yeah. Pretty much. And as you know, he never hits me where I can't hide it."

I cup his cheek and look at him a moment. "Again, I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I wish I had known. And use 'hit' not 'hits'. He's never hitting you again."

"*Hit*." Justin corrects himself, turns his face in my hand and kisses my palm. "And there's no way you would have known."

"Sunshine, of all people who should recognize someone who's being abused, it's me." And that's true.

"Brian, you *did* recognize it. When you saw me, you knew."

"No. I only had bad dreams about it. I saw you last week at Woody's. I saw you moving stiffly then - at least until you saw me and then you started moving naturally again."

"Hmf. That was several days before he caught me sketching you at school. That's when this happened." Justin gestures to the extensive deep muscle bruises on his torso. I wince.

"So I could have helped prevent that. See?"

"Stop it, Brian. Had it not been for this," he gestures again to his body, "I would never have walked stiffly at McDonald's and I'd be at Ethan's right now, miserable and wondering when he'd lay into me next. I'd be at Ethan's and thinking of you- not being with you. Brian, I thought of you all the time. You were my only safe place. Inside."

I sigh and take a bite of toast. Some safe place, I think to myself.

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

The day passes pretty uneventfully; a lot of making out; some eating, mostly on Justin's part; some drinking, mostly on my part; some talking including some schmaltz despite my hatred of that tripe; and a lot of simple touching. And two showers.

It's about 7PM and my stomach growls. "Hey, mind if we order some food? Soup and peanut butter sandwiches are getting old."

"Sure! Thai?"

"'Kay." I take a bottle of wine from the rack on top of the fridge and put it on the counter. Then I pull out the menu. "Want your usual?"

Justin grins. "You remember my usual?"

"Justin it's been 2 months not 2 years." I pick up the phone and hit speed dial. I order and ask for Steven to deliver - I know his voice and I'm not letting anyone in whose voice I don't recognize. Not after Ian's visit yesterday. Justin gets out some wine glasses and sets them on the counter near the wine. We go sit on the sofa to wait for the food; Justin turns on the TV and immediately switches to a Law and Order rerun. I roll my eyes. "How can you watch this crap? They play it interminably. I mean, good lord…"

Justin crinkles his nose and snorts at me. "I like it. I spent a lot of time watching this show in the last 2 months - at the café on campus."

"I thought they only played sports and shit."

"Not at the café on campus. Some of the law students from University of Pittsburgh frequented that place and they kind of dictated what was on the TV since we PIFA students really couldn't have cared less. So in my attempt to keep away from Ethan by staying on campus and sketching you, a lot of my time was spent at the café watching this show. Besides, Ethan hated that café so I was pretty sure I'd never run into him there."

I don't say anything but Justin nudges closer to me and puts his head on my lap, turning to face the television. I absently comb my fingers through his silky strands and resign myself to watching Jerry Orbach and Sam Waterston for the next hour.

Just then the buzzer sounds and I gently get up from under Justin's head. I go over and call down to see who it is. I'm being extra cautious from now on - before yesterday, I'd just release the door. No more. It's Steve from the Thai Garden. I buzz him up and when he knocks I open the door as I glance over at Justin who has sat up and is looking at me from the sofa.

I look over to get the bag of food and behind Steve is Ethan, grinning. Steve smiles and holds out the bag of food to me before Ethan pushes him aside - it's apparent that Ethan was waiting at the door or just inside having been buzzed in by another tenant for someone coming to my apartment - and apparently, Ethan knows my voice. Steve frowns and huffs out a 'hey', having been unaware anyone was behind him. I immediately go to grab for Ethan but he holds up a gun and I back up. I vaguely hear a paper bag being dropped and what must be Steve's quickly retreating footsteps.

"Ethan! No!" Justin's voice behind me is panicked and filled with fear.

"Justin!" My voice on the other hand is filled with warning. "Justin, duck down behind the sofa!"

But Justin isn't listening. "Ethan, stop! Don't do this!" He pleads. "Please! I'll come with you!"

Ethan has this maniacal grin on his face and I smell that he's been drinking. He swings around to aim the gun at Justin. "So, has Brian's 'Sunshine' come back to his true love for good? Or is this just for a good fuck with the Stud of Liberty Avenue - the whore of Liberty Avenue - who is everybody's idea of the best fuck in Pittsburgh? The one you're 'lucky if he'll have you'? The beautiful, successful asshole?" He takes a step towards Justin, holding the gun up at him.

"Ethan… don't…!" I seethe.

"Whore!" He says over his shoulder. "I was going to kill you first and have Justin watch - but right now, I think I want to see you suffer and shoot Justin first…!"

I look at Justin and see the utter terror on his face as he cowers behind the sofa; I wonder if he might faint or go into shock again but his eyes are wide and trained on the gun in Ethan's hand.

Ethan starts this weird, crazed laugh and he takes several more steps towards Justin. It's obvious he's going to shoot Sunshine and I have to do something to stop him. But what? Ethan is slowly heading to the other side of Justin apparently so he can watch the pain in my face as he shoots Sunshine.

I spot the wine bottle on the counter and as quietly as possible, I grab it. "Ready, Justin? Time to meet your maker, 'Sunshine'!"

I creep up behind this fucker as he continues to slowly proceed to the other side of the sofa; I raise the bottle over my head and am ready to swing it when Justin's eyes inadvertently give me away. Ethan turns abruptly as I bring the bottle down with a crack and I hear a popping noise at the same time.

"Brian! Oh God oh God oh God! No no no no no no no!" Justin is immediately at my side, inadvertently kicking the dropped gun fully into the kitchen as he ignores Ethan's passed out form. I have no idea what the fuck he's going on about until I look down.

A crimson stain on my white wife beater is spreading rapidly and I look at Justin in shock before doubling over in sudden pain. I fall back against the kitchen island and slide down the side to the floor in a slump. Justin is on the phone, frantic. He gives our address and holds my hand tightly. "Stay with me, Brian. Stay. I love you! Stay! Please!" He screams between words to the operator. The last thing I remember is the pain from Justin applying pressure to the wound and his panicked voice telling me he loves me. And I remember the color of deep red, vaguely realizing how much blood I'm losing. I also remember the sickly smell of blood mixed with the smell of the Thai that Steve dropped at the door moments before. Then everything goes white, then black.

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