If It Made Sense, It Wouldn't Be a Mystery, Would It?

Chapter 19

POV: LINDSAY

I need answers here, boys. Something is happening and I'll be damned if someone's going to kill the father of my son. Or Justin. Or Hunter, for that matter.

But they aren't talking. "Please tell me what's going on."

Brian sighs in the back. "Okay. What the hell. A few days ago after the brunch, Horvath showed up at the loft. He said that there was something more to Kemp and Reikert's death than what the papers were saying- that he suspects Stockwell had something to do with their deaths. Something like that. He showed us some letters and photos- the letters were from Reikert to his lover, who just so happens to be Hunter's father." Whoa. "So, turns out that Reikert had a fling with Kemp. And that Kemp was Hunter's best friend. Although Reikert hadn't known that until Hunter and his dad- Reikert's lover- showed up at their door one day when Jason was leaving. Caused a little scene. I'm really not sure if that has any significance or not, but anyway, Reikert later warned Gary- Hunter's dad- that Jason was blackmailing Stockwell. Presumably about their little fling... right around the time Stockwell had put his name in the hat to run for mayor. Since Reikert had been Stockwell's partner on the force, it wouldn't look very good if it made the news that he'd had a love affair with a boy prostitute. While they were still partners. And Stockwell did nothing about it. The gay factor, the prostitute factor, the boy factor- all would be damaging. He told Gary that he believed Stockwell had Kemp killed. And that Hunter had known about the blackmailing, had been in on it, and was therefore also in danger. As was Gary, by association." Brian pauses again. I glance to the backseat to see him holding Gus' hand, stroking it with his thumb. Gus has fallen asleep with a smile on his face. I smile inadvertently. He's a good father. I swear, if I weren't a dyke… I let that thought go. Anyway, I wish Mel wasn't so unreasonable where Brian is concerned. I see Justin out of the corner of my eye watching the two in the backseat. He seems apprehensive or something, even though he's quite obviously admiring the two.

"Okay, so... go on." I say.

"Anyway, Horvath also said that he didn't believe that Reikert committed suicide. Wound wasn't consistefnt or something. He believed that he somehow got mixed up in the mess with Stockwell and had been killed, too."

"Why would Stockwell kill him?"

"Excelllllent question. I don't know. Unless it was something about the fact that it was about to hit the news that he'd killed Jason- that Reikert had killed Jason. That coming out would have a similar effect on Stockwell's campaign as Jason going public about his affair with Reikert. Although, add to it the fact that Stockwell's partner was not only a horny gay John to a boy prostitute, but a murderer as well."

"But killing him doesn't seem logical... the press would still find out."

"Maybe if it looked like suicide, it would be easier to say that the guy was imbalanced, that since he'd left the force, he'd gone over some edge. I don't know. It doesn't make sense to me, either." I look back. Gus stirs a little, opens his eyes to see me in the front seat and his Dad next him rubbing his hand; he sighs happily and closes his eyes again. "At all." Brian adds, watching his son.

"So, now he's after you? Why? How would he know you're suspicious of him?"

"Fuck, Lindsay… if any of it made sense, it wouldn't be a mystery, now would it?" Brian smirks.

Smartass.

POV: JUSTIN

Lindsay finally drops us at the loft at around 11PM. I help Brian change the dressing on his leg- the wound is nasty and deep, the stitches still fresh. Brian looks at it in disgust. "Guess I'll be out of commission for awhile…" he mutters. "And scarred for life."

"Scars are sexy. Plus, I can still suck you off, you know…" I grin. He grins back with that wicked smile I love. Our moods have lifted slightly now that we're back at the loft.

"True." He says, leaning down to give me a kiss. "My, you're such the resourceful young fellow," he winks. But then I notice him wincing as I gently rub on some of the ointment they gave us at the hospital. "Sorry…" I say, before applying a fresh bandage. He doesn't respond. "Maybe I suck you off tomorrow," I add. "Besides, I'm fucking exhausted." And I am. I've hardly slept since we arrived at the hospital. I was so scared for Brian. Fuck, I was so scared… and the goddamned nightmares. 'Course, there were some fucking great dreams too…

But the nightmares…

He just nods. "Fucking car accident."

I sigh and turn my attention to the bandage on his head. I slowly start to peel back the tape. "Yep. But, more like 'fucking car wreck'." I correct, giving a quick yank to remove the bandage.

"Ouch! Shit! Be fucking careful!" He says, pulling away slightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up late- my ribs ache a little and even though I was exhausted and it's late, I really didn't sleep very well. I kept waking up with these fucking images in my head- I'd wake up with a fucking hard-on one minute and the fucking cold sweats the next. Dreams. Too many dreams. I look over at Brian. He's still fast asleep, breathing deeply. We aren't entangled like usual this time. I reach over and lightly brush a wisp of hair from his brow- the un-bandaged side. Sighing, I decide to get up and start some coffee.

As I pad down the steps, I notice that the message light on the answering machine is blinking. I carefully turn down the volume and hit the play back button. "Kinney. It's Carl. Listen, I thought you should know that Hunter's mother…. She was found dead on I-95. They don't know if it was an accident or not, but… well, I've told Debbie. And Michael knows. I don't know if Michael will be telling Hunter yet or not- but, anyway - I thought I'd warn you about that in case he does call and is really upset. Give me a call when you get this- especially if you've heard from Hunter and know where he is."

Old news, I think. Then there's another beep. "Hey, Brian- it's Michael." I immediately look over to Brian's sleeping form, my heart leaping in my chest- but I wait and hear it out. "Fuck… listen, Hunter ran away after you talked to him- I looked everywhere- everyfuckingwhere! I can't find him, and so I took the car out to find him, and I'm stranded! The car's shot to hell- do NOT KILL ME. I'm getting it fixed- it will be just like new by Wednesday, the guy said. Anyway, I'll be coming home in case Hunter's gone back to Ben's- I'll be stopping at the rest stop first of course, although I doubt he's there. I waited for hours…----BEEP!"

The tape cut him off. Still: 'Hee heeeeee!' I think, gleefully. I bound up the steps and sit on the bed next to Brian. "Brian!" I whisper. "Brian! Wake up!"

"Hrmph… G'way…" Brian mumbles groggily.

"Brian!"

"Jusss… sleepin'…!"

"Brian, there was a message from Michael- he's okay!"

Brian sits straight up, eyes wide open- and suddenly winces and reaches for his head. "Fuck me…!" He shakes his head as though he's suddenly dizzy. "Mikey?" He manages to say, his voice still thick from sleep.

"Yeah! Mikey! He'd gone out in the car to look for Hunter after he'd run off- and the car broke down. He says it'll be fixed-" I look at the clock. Like that will tell me what fucking day it is. Duh. I think a second. "It's supposed to be fixed by today- today's Wednesday, right? And he's coming back here, in case Hunter is at Ben's!"

Brian flops back onto the bed, sighing deeply. "Fuck." Is all he says. He raises hand to his face and massages his eyes with his fingers. I lean down and curl up against him, my head on his chest.

Then I feel a sudden shudder wrack his frame.

Jesus Christ.

He's crying.

Softly.

Quietly.

But he's definitely crying. I just wrap my arms around him and lay there.

He takes a deep breath. "Call Debbie." He says quietly. "Or, no. Wait. Call Ben. Or…"

"Brian, shhh." I squeeze him tight. I don't think I've ever seen him cry. In the loft… in the parking garage at the hotel, when he was trying to get me to remember the… the bashing. That was probably the closest I've seen. He's always so goddamned strong. He was so strong in the waiting room. I shut my eyes hard. I was such a fucking wus.

Although, he didn't make me feel that way at all.

But God. All those fucking dreams I had there. How can you sleep only like 5 minutes max in 2 plus days and dream like I did? I put it out of my mind and look at him, his hands over his eyes- I can barely make out the traces of moisture around his fingers. Brian. The so-called unfeeling, selfish son of a bitch. Always, always the one cleaning up everyone else's messes, always putting on a front - and I know for sure now it's a front - like he's immune to everything. Like he doesn't care.

Fuck me if he isn't actually the most sensitive person I've ever fucking met. 'Course if I told him that, he'd probably strangle me. But I can read him now. No one else seems to be able to- except Mikey and Linds, I guess. Sort of Deb- but that's clouded a bit by her mother-hennishness in connection with Michael.

Jesus.

"Justin."

"Yes?" I hug him harder. I want to be here for him. I think again about how tender he was with me after the bashing. How… fuck, he seemed to have suffered more post-traumatic stress than I did… which shows again… how much he--

"Get off me. Run a shower. Make some coffee. Pour me some guava juice. Oh- and toast me a bagel."

I sigh slightly, although I really can't help but smile a little.

Brian's back.

Although I love both Brians. All Brians.

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