Do Unto Others

Chapter 3

Warnings: Rape

Note: All past happenings are in italics.

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Brian…

"Brian, Brian…." I can hear Michael calling my name, but his voice is far away.

I look into his eyes and realize that he is serious, dead serious. "Okay," I tell him. "If anything happens to you… I'll be there, every step of the way." He smiles and presses his lips to mine. I let my hands rake through his hair as he grinds his ass into me.

"Promise me," he says as he bites on my bottom lip, just enough to cause the slightest bit of pain.

"Promise you? What are you… eight?" I ask. He sits up and looks at me. "I said I'd be there," I tell him.

"I know, just… just, promise me, okay. Do you promise?" he asks. I slide my hand behind his neck and pull him close to me before flipping us over.

"I promise."

"Brian," Michael says again. I look up at him and smile weakly before staring straight ahead. "How is Justin?" I feel a tear make its way down my cheek and I don't bother to wipe it away. "What happened?"

Michael asks me question after question, until they're all one big jumble in my head and his voice is just a blur.

"Michael," I say softly and he stops talking to look at me. "Can you go to the loft and get me something to wear?" I don't look at him. He takes in a deep breath and I can feel his eyes as they comb over my body, taking in my appearance for the first time. I let him look, let him see.

"I… I thought you wanted to go to the loft and get cleaned up," he says confused. I nod and turn my head to look at him. He looks into my eyes and I know he sees. He sees the things that I need to say… but can't.

"I can't leave him, I just can't."

Michael nods his head and puts his hand on my arm as he stands up. I clamp my hand down on his wrist as he moves to step away. He stops in his tracks, frozen in front of me. I use his wrist to help me pull myself up.

We both look at my hand. The blood is still staining it, transferring the reality of Justin's situation from me to Michael. We both stay silent as I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight. He hugs me back and after an eternity we let go of each other.

"I'll be back as fast as I can," he says. I give him a sad smile and watch as he takes off down the hallway. I let my body relax into the hard chair as I take in the few moments of quiet that have washed over the hospital. The only sounds are the beeping of machines and the soft shedding of tears.

I look down the hall and past the nurse's station. The large window at the end of the hallway tells anyone who looks that it is a whole new day. I look up at the large clock and note the time. It is past ten o'clock in the morning.

Where did all the time go? Over seventeen hours have passed. It feels like fifteen minutes.

I sigh as I look at Justin's hospital door, but I stay where I am, and let Jennifer have her time.

She needs her time. I can give her that.

I don't know how much time has passed when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes and look at Michael. He has a small black duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. "I brought you extra, in case, in case you needed it," he says hesitantly. He doesn't know what to say, or what to do.

"Thanks," I say. I don't have the energy to make a witty comment or try to cover up my emotions. I take the bag from him and walk over to the nurse's station. I tell her my situation and she leads me to a visitor's bathroom, lined on one side with a bank of showers, each one separated by a thin white plastic shower curtain.

I stand in front of the mirror as the time ticks away. I look at all the blood, Justin's blood. It's dark red, drying, and turning brown along the edges. I struggle to swallow down the acid that creeps into my mouth, tracing a path back up through my esophagus. I can't win the fight.

I lean down and empty the putrid acid into the sink, gripping the sides of the porcelain fixture so tightly it feels like it may crack. I rinse the bile from the sink and stand up straight, zipping open the duffel bag and looking through its contents.

I pull out the toothbrush that Mikey packed and brush my teeth. He forgot the toothpaste. I finish the everyday task… that today seems like the hardest thing in the world to do. I start to strip out of my clothes, piece by piece.

I pile the clothes in a heap on the floor and step into the dry shower, turning the water on.

I adjust the temperature of the water and watch as the blood starts to separate from my skin. I grab a wrapped bar of soap off of the holder in the stall and open it, working up a lather and letting the paper fall to the tile below.

I ignore the cardboard smell of the small bar as I coat my skin in the cleansing agent.

"This soap doesn't smell like anything," I say as he steps into the shower. He looks at me like I grew a third eye and shrugs his shoulders.

"So," he says as he takes it from me and sniffs it. "Who cares if the soap is odorless?" He asks as he starts to wash himself.

"Me," I tell him. "What's the point of having soap if it doesn't smell like anything?"

"Are you sure you're not a girl?" He asks with pure sincerity. I stick my tongue in between my top lip and my gums, smirking at him as he fills the shower with soft laughter. "It doesn't matter what the soap smells like, plus, the unscented is cheaper."

"Cheaper?" I ask as I take the full bar of soap and let my eyes focus on the brand name pressed into the milky white bar. I have never heard of the brand before. "Fuck that shit," I say as I see the name. "I'm not using it."

"Fine, you don't have to."

I go through the motions as fast as I can and turn the water off, shaking down past memories.

I quickly get dressed, every movement made with purpose. "Brian," I hear as I am stepping into my shoe. I stand up straight and zip up the duffel bag. I turn to Mikey and wait for him to say something.

"Jennifer said that Justin is awake. He's asking for you." I take off out of the bathroom before he can finish delivering the message.

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Justin…

I open my eyes and wince as the light assaults me. I can barely remember anything. I see my mother in the chair next to my bed. She is holding my hand and staring straight ahead. I close my eyes and will my left hand to move, to get her attention. I feel her grip on my hand tighten and my eyes flutter back open.

Everything is in slow motion.

"Justin," she says as she stands up quickly. She looks over my body and smiles weakly. I don't want the tube in my throat. I don't want to be here. I don't want to cry, but I can feel the tears as they start to pool in my eyes. I grip her hand again, pleading with her. I love you mom, but where is Brian? Get him for me, please, okay.

I try to say something, anything, but no sound comes out. I lay there as the oxygen is forced into my lungs and the tears stream from my eyes. I look at her and then shift my eyes over to the door as I flex my hand. I watch as she wipes the tears away from her eyes and it all clicks into place for her. "Brian?"

I nod my head, as best as I can, and squeeze her hand. "Mmm," I moan over the rush of air that is pulsed into me.

"I'll get him. I'll get him," she says. Thank you, thank you. I know that she wants to be here with me, but she is not who I want. It is so cold in this room, so cold. I can feel the tremors as they run through my body. The thin blanket that I can feel on my skin is doing nothing to keep me warm.

I stare at the ceiling as the tears on my face start to dry. I start to count the beats of my heart as I lay here and wonder what happened. Everything is in bits and pieces, there is no full picture. I try hard to fight off the panic that wants to settle in my chest.

I hear the door start to open and I look over. I recognize the hand on the door before I see the rest of him. "Hey," Brian says as he closes the door and slowly walks over to the bed.

Hey, I want to smile and tell you I am fine, but I can't. "They have a tube down your throat to help you breath," he tells me. I feel the tears renew themselves. He bends over and places a tentative kiss on my forehead and we both listen as the action causes my heart to speed up. He smiles shyly at the noise and sits down in the abandoned chair.

He holds onto my hand and I can feel all of his strength and resolve falling away. I can't reassure him. I can't pull him close and hold him tight, but I hold onto his hand like it is my last link to living. The same goes for him… and I watch as he starts to cry. He holds onto my hand and let's go of everything.

"You're crushing my hand. Why are you so nervous? Been fucking around without a condom?" Brian asks me, his eyebrow raised into the air.

"No asshole. I just… don't like needles." I watch with wide eyes as the doctor turns around with the needle.

"Oh, it won't be so bad," the doctor says. I close my eyes and tighten my grip on Brian's hand. I barely feel anything. I have his strength. "Okay, that's it. You should get your results in about three days."

"Brian," the doctor says as he walks into the room. "Justin, you're awake. I'm Dr. Salas," he says as he focuses his attention on me. Yeah, I'm up. What's wrong with me? He walks over and stands on the other side of the bed, across from Brian.

I look at him and make a grunting noise as I pull my hand free from Brian's and gesture at the tube that is restricting my speech.

"You were assaulted yesterday… and stabbed multiple times. When you arrived in the emergency room you were immediately sent to surgery to stop the bleeding." My heart starts to beat faster as he gives the reason for my pain. "You had a collapsed lung. We were able to get it re-inflated but we kept the tube in to make sure you had peak air flow," he tells me, slowly so that I can absorb everything.

"There was a severe amount of rectal tearing and inflammation. Your jaw was also displaced and your wrist was fractured… most likely while you were trying to defend yourself. I can feel my body tremble as the shaking gets worse. He puts the chart down and moves closer to the bed.

"Justin, do you want me to stop?"

I move my head slightly from side to side. I need him to tell me everything, everything. Tell me now. Brian gets up and stands next to me.

"Just tell him everything," Brian says.

I feel Brian's hand on my shoulder and I move my left hand up and lace our fingers together. "You have a couple of broken ribs, that's why it's hard for you to move. There is a brace around you to help keep the ribs from moving around. There is quite a bit of swelling, some missing teeth and multiple bruises," he tells me, saying the last part quickly.

"What are you watching?" Brian asks as he walks into the loft. I turn to look at him before quickly focusing my attention on the television again.

"Discovery Health," I tell him. He walks over and stands behind me on the sofa. I look up at him and he leans over and presses his lips to mine. I break the kiss and look back at the screen. "This lady was in a gang fight."

"That's all? A fight and she looks like that?" Brian asks in surprise. I tilt my head slightly to the side and roll my lips into my mouth.

"Yeah, well, the human body is really, really fragile. It doesn't take too much to really get hurt. I mean you can die from falling down the stairs," I tell him.

"I'd rather die fucking," he says as he walks over to the bedroom and starts to undress.

I watch the woman's family as they wait for the doctor to tell them something, anything. "Knowing you, you probably will."

"I am going to check your injuries and make sure that none of them have gotten worse." I close my eyes and hold on tight to Brian's hand as the doctor gets closer to me. He moves slowly as he checks over my injuries.

"How long is he going to have to be here?" I hear Brian ask as Dr. Salas looks at my ribs. I feel the increased pressure as the brace is secured back into place.

"Well, provided there are no complications… he'll probably be released in a few days." I shake my head from side to side as quickly as I can. I can't stay in the hospital that long. Not again, not again. I can't.

"Justin," Dr. Salas says. "You have suffered severe injuries. We'll give it a couple of days, make sure you're okay, and then we'll see about getting you released." I don't want to stay here. I don't want to stay here alone.

"What's wrong with the cute blond in 453D?" Nurse Sally asks as she walks into the supply closet. Elaine finishes counting the syringes and writes the number down on the inventory sheet she is filling out.

"I think he's waiting for someone," Elaine says.

"Must be someone pretty special," Sally says as she grabs some saline drips.

"There is one more thing," Dr. Salas says as he looks at Brian and then at me. He looks back down and writes one more thing in my chart. When he finishes he holds the metal clipboard close to his chest and steps closer to the bed.

"What?" Brian asks. He says the things I want to say.

"You're going to have to go back to surgery to…."

"For what?" Brian asks.

"We have to repair the fractured wrist and set your jaw. If they are not repaired… you run the possibility of the bones not healing properly, which could result in disfigurement and/or loss of mobility. Will I be able to talk after the surgery?

"How long will it take?" Brian asks.

"It's a fairly simple procedure. The jaw will be set with a metal plate and then the jaw will effectively be… wired shut," he says as he looks at me and Brian. Oh my God. "The wrist will be the same type of procedure. It should be somewhere around two hours, tops." I listen as he talks more and more about my injuries.

I start to zone out, leaving him and Brian to talk. Until I hear him say police.

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Detective Jorge Ramirez…

"Has the place been taped off?" I ask as I walk toward the building. There are people everywhere, trying to see exactly what is going on in the building.

"Yes sir, we taped off the area as soon as we got here. We've been waiting for you to get here before going into the actual unit. We have a list of all the tenants in the building and we are questioning everyone about their whereabouts between the hours of five o'clock and nine o'clock last night," Officer Josh Hilling tells me.

I nod my head as we get off the elevator on the fifth floor. There are officers everywhere, waiting to go into the unit. "Where is the photographer?" I ask. A short woman steps up to me and shakes my hand. "Detective Ramirez," I say.

"Officer Marie Gloss," she says. I lead her into the loft and look around, careful not to touch anything as she snaps pictures of everything, even the trashcan. I let the click of her camera lull me into a trance as I take in every inch of the space.

I notice a blood red piece of material sticking out from under what appears to be a shirt. I look up at her and point to the articles of clothing. "Did you get pictures of this?" I ask.

"Yeah, I got the whole place." I nod my approval and pull two rubber gloves out of a holder on my belt loop.

"Good, make sure you get the hallway," I say as I move the ripped and bloodied shirt to the side and pick up the discarded piece of material. It is silk, strong… and cut, leaving the knot still intact. Officer Hilling comes up behind me as I am looking at the material and squats down next to me.

"Find something?"

"I think so. This scarf looks similar to the scarves that have been found over the past few years in a number of rape and murder scenes. Clear out the hallway, I want only essential people up here. No one comes in here without gloves, no one."

"Yes sir. I'll get right on it," he says as he stands up and hurries out of the loft.

Twenty minutes later and my small team is combing through every inch of the space, looking for any sort of clue and collecting all the evidence they can; hair, blood, semen, everything.

"What do we know about the victim?" I ask Josh as I pull off the rubber gloves and toss them into the dumpster outside the building.

Josh flips open his spiral pad and reads off the information he collected. "Twenty-four year old, white male, used the unit as a studio. He lives off of Tremont with his boyfriend." I listen as he goes through the rest of the information.

"Where is he now?" I ask as we reach my car. Josh turns the page of his notebook and taps his pen against the roof of my car.

"He was taken to the trauma unit at Pittsburgh Mercy Hospital. He was in pretty bad shape," Josh says.

We get into the car and slam the doors closed. "Has he been questioned?"

"I don't believe so."

"Get some units over there, now. I want all the evidence we can salvage before the hospital's housekeeping staff destroys everything… and I am gonna want to talk to him as soon as possible."

"You got it," Josh says as he starts relaying my requests into the police walkie talkies. I turn on my lights and speed through the traffic.

"Something tells me that this kid is lucky to be alive."

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