Going or Staying

Chapter 11

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Michael watched Brian standing in front of the hotel room window for what seemed like hours. Finally, unable to take the silence any longer, he spoke.

"Brian, I'm sure…"

"Don't say it, Mikey," the taller man cut in with a low, warning tone.

After ten more minutes of silence, Brian turned from the window to face him. "I never knew how it felt, Mikey," he said quietly.

Michael's brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but he didn't question his friend, he merely waited.

"Since we've been … partners," he said the word in a slightly shakier voice, "I've told him twice that he was no longer my partner." His voice cracked and he turned away toward the window once again. Without facing his friend, he continued. "I didn't know how that must have felt to him until today."

Michael was silent for a moment. "Well, maybe it's good that you know now," he said, trying to offer comfort without condoning Brian's actions. Brian had always been another of his heroes, and, like Brett Keller, Michael was finding out that he was human and made mistakes.

And he'd made a big one with Justin.

"Yeah," Brian laughed gruffly. "So now we can both feel like fucking shit," he scoffed. He hung his head, staring at the carpet. "He doesn't want me anymore, Mikey," he said in a small voice. "I've really lost him this time."

He was surprised when Michael actually burst out laughing at that. Whirling from the window, he glared at his friend. "What's so fucking funny?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry," Michael apologized, reigning in his mirth in light of his friend's anger. "But do you know who you sounded like just then?"

Brian's eyes narrowed, but he didn't take the bait.

"Justin," Michael answered anyway, his tone more serious.

Brian was about to tell Michael he was full of shit, but he knew he was speaking the truth. How many times had Justin felt just like Brian did now? Brian knew it was more than once. He also knew the last time was less than a week ago when he'd told Justin they were no longer partners and walked out of the loft, telling the blond to be gone when he got back.

Without saying a word to his best friend, Brian grabbed his wallet, his jacket and his cell phone and headed for the door. "Don't wait up," he growled over his shoulder as he left.

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Though he'd cited sleep as the reason for wanting to be alone, Justin hadn't actually had any since Brian and Michael had left the room. Initially, he'd been glad to see them, especially Brian, but then he'd remembered that they were no longer partners and couldn't stand the look of concern in Brian's eyes, knowing that it was just for his physical well-being. His heart hurt worse than his head, and if Brian wasn't concerned about the emotional pain he, himself, had inflicted, he didn't need to worry about the physical injuries that were not of his doing.

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts and he turned to see Detective Myers standing there. "Hey," he greeted the older man.

"I thought, if you're up to it, I might as well get your statement while I'm here," Myers informed him.

Justin pulled himself up to a semi-reclining position, leaning back against the pillows. "Sure," he said quietly. "But I really don't remember too much."

"Let's start with the party," Myers said, taking out a notebook and pen. "You were there as an invited guest?"

Justin nodded slightly, the movement causing his head to throb. "Yeah. Brett thought I should celebrate my new job and invited a few people over."

Myers nodded. Only in this city could 340 guests be considered a few people. "And where were you when the trouble started?"

Justin thought back. "We were on the balcony. I remember it was getting chilly and I was going to go up to my room to get a jacket, when one of the guys offered me his. We'd been having a pretty good time talking and joking around, so I accepted it and put it on."

"Do you know this man's name?" Myers asked.

"Kevin something," Justin answered, trying to remember. "It must have been his ID they found on me."

Myers nodded again as he made notations on his pad. "It was an unfortunate mistake, but an honest one," he said. "You had the same coloring, roughly the same height and weight."

Justin nodded. "It was kinda freaky," he admitted. "Everybody was commenting on it. We were all kinda joking around about it especially when…" He blushed slightly and left the sentence unfinished.

"Especially when what?" Myers pressed.

Justin sighed. "This older guy was hitting on me," he said with a small shrug. "I kept telling him I wasn't interested, and then Kevin said he was. Said he was my stunt double and that he filled in for me a lot when…"

"When guys would hit on you and you weren't interested," Myers finished for him, a touch of an amused smile on his lips.

"It was all just a joke," Justin nodded, hoping the other man understood that. "The guy knew Kevin was no stunt double, but he played along, thought it was funny. He was asking Kevin how much stunt doubles made and what kind of benefit packages they got. Like I said, we were just fucking around. It was all in good fun and everybody knew that."

"Then what?"

Justin blushed again, hating to reveal the details even though they didn't concern him directly. "The guy took off Kevin's shirt. They were making out for a bit on the balcony, then they went inside."

"Did you see them again?"

"Yeah," Justin replied with a nod. "About half an hour later. Kevin came back out looking for his shirt. He was in a good mood, still joking around." Justin frowned. "Then this guy came out of nowhere and started yelling at Brett. He was saying stuff like 'that job was mine and you know it'." He grimaced wryly. "At the time I didn't even realize he was talking about my job."

"And when did you come to realize that?"

"Brett said something about Rage being my baby and if anyone could do the job justice, it was me."

Myers finished writing and looked up at Justin again. "Did this man know, then, that you were the one who had allegedly taken his job?"

Justin shrugged. "Brett kinda nodded in my direction when he was talking about me and I think that's when he figured it out."

"Then what happened?" the detective prodded.

Frowning, Justin tried to remember. "There was yelling, and … that's it. The next thing I remember is waking up here."

With Brian's fingers gently stroking my forehead, his hazel eyes glassy with unshed tears.

The memory triggered another thought. "Wait a minute. If you didn't know who I was and Brett was hurt, how did you know to contact Brian?" Brian's name was still listed as his primary contact in case of emergency, but they couldn't know that since his wallet was likely still in the nightstand beside his bed.

"We didn't," he answered. "He contacted us. Seems he saw a news report about the shooting and when he didn't hear from you, he called the station."

"And you asked him to come?" Justin queried, slightly disappointed.

"No. He gave us your description and we told him it matched one of the victims and we'd contact him when we knew for sure. Next thing I knew, I'm getting a call from a beat cop at the airport saying he's here in L.A. ready to identify the body."

"Shit," Justin breathed.

Myers grimaced. "Yeah. It was hard on him, that's for sure. Luckily, the guy we had wasn't you."

Justin nodded slowly, trying to take it all in. He felt a pang of guilt as he realized how Brian must have felt waiting to see 'his' body at the morgue. Trying to push the disturbing thought from his mind, he cleared his throat. "How's Brett?"

"Took a bullet in the shoulder. They operated; he's going to be fine," the detective answered as he put his pen and notebook away. Holding out his hand, he added, "I appreciate your cooperation."

"Sure," Justin said, shaking the man's hand.

Once alone in the room, again, his thoughts kept turning to Brian. While he felt bad about what the man must have gone through in the last day or so, he wasn't sure it really changed anything. Sure, he'd flown half-way across the country when he thought Justin had been killed, but did it mean anything more than that? It was evidence that Brian cared about him, but he already knew that much.

But was it enough?

The answer came to him as he recalled the words he'd said to Brian their last day in the loft. He'd been wrong. Sometimes it did have to be all or nothing. And if he couldn't be what he wanted to Brian, he chose to be nothing at all. He didn't want him flying half way across the country just because he thought he was dead or dying. He didn't want him telling hospital staff they were partners just to gain visiting rights.

And he sure as Hell didn't want to have to watch him walk away again once the crisis had passed.

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Brett Keller was surprised to see the man walk into his hospital room. "Brian!" he exclaimed. "How's Justin?"

"He'll be OK," Brian answered flatly. "No thanks to you."

"I'm sorry he got hurt," Brett said sincerely. He paused, trying to gauge the other man's mood. Had Michael told him that Justin had been hurt because Brett was trying to save himself? "But if things hadn't happened the way they did, he might have been killed."

An image of the young man on the morgue table flashed through Brian's mind and he grimaced inwardly. He knew exactly how things might have turned out. That didn't mean he had to forgive Keller for hurting Justin.

"That's the only reason I'm not tap-dancing on that shoulder of yours right now," Kinney grated. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Justin's alive. I'm grateful for that, but I'm not about to extend any fucking gratitude to the man who pushed him off a balcony to save his own ass. Do we understand each other?"

Brett winced. "Michael told you."

Brian took a step closer. "Mikey didn't tell me anything," he clarified. "I know your kind, Keller, and I don't like you, but I'm not Justin. He wants this job. He's earned it." He studied the other man's face for a moment. "What I want to know is, does this change anything?"

Brett couldn't help but admire the man standing before him, even if he did think Justin could do better. "Strangely enough, I didn't offer Justin the job because I thought you liked me. Truth is, I couldn't care less how you feel about me or this movie. You're right. He's earned this and the job is his, if he still wants it."

Brian looked into the injured man's eyes and saw that he meant what he was saying. "Good," he finally said with a small nod. Then, leaning closer, he whispered. "But if you ever put him in a situation like that again, I'll come out here and kill you myself."

Without waiting for a response, he straightened, turned and left the room.

After the initial shock wore off, a wry smile spread across the director's face. He wondered if Justin knew just how strongly Brian felt about him. He had the feeling if the blond found out, Brett would find himself short one assistant art director.

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Brian had to physically restrain himself from going into Justin's room. He was sure the younger man wouldn't want to see him yet, but he was determined to change that. In the meantime, he could still keep track of his progress. Walking up to the nurses' station, he saw Dr. Carstairs writing in a chart.

"Doctor," he said, getting the other man's attention.

"Mr. Kinney," Carstairs replied. "I thought you'd left."

"I had someone else I had to see," Brian said absently. "How's Justin doing?"

The doctor studied him from beneath furrowed brows. He didn't know the situation between the two men, but it was obvious Kinney cared about the young man. He could see no harm in telling him the truth.

"Much better," he said. "Now that he's passed the danger stage, we're able to give him something for the headaches. I'm afraid they tend to put him out, but the rest will do him good at this point."

"Are you still planning on releasing him tomorrow?" Brian asked.

"I see no reason why not," the doctor answered. "Of course, it would be best if he were to have someone stay with him for a couple of days, in the event the headaches worsen or he experiences any further problems."

Brian was nodding slowly, his mind already working on a solution. "Thanks," he said distractedly as he walked away.

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