Going or Staying

Chapter 12

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When the doctor entered Justin's room late the next morning, he wasn't alone.

"Michael," Justin said warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Boy Wonder," Michael greeted him, choosing to ignore the suspicious look and tone. "Thought I'd help facilitate your escape from this place."

Justin snorted. "Didn't think you knew words like facilitate," he grumbled.

"I married a professor, remember?" Michael grinned.

Though he tried hard, Justin couldn't resist a small smile as he shook his head. Looking up at the doctor, he asked, "So, can I get out of here?"

"I don't see why not," Dr. Carstairs told him cheerfully. "But I would like to see you as an outpatient in a couple of days, just to make sure those headaches are gone and things are back to normal."

"Fine," Justin agreed.

"And I think it's a good idea to have someone stay with you for the next 48 hours, just to be on the safe side."

"Doc, I don't think.."

"That's all taken care of, Doctor," Michael assured him, risking a quick glance at Justin.

"Michael," Justin began, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. "I don't need…

"Yeah, right," Michael scoffed. "You want to be me when my mother finds out we left you out here alone with a concussion? I'd be served up as the next pink plate special."

Justin took note of the twinkle in the brown eyes and managed a small, grateful smile. "Wouldn't want that," he acquiesced.

"Well, then, I'll go get the discharge papers in order," the doctor announced, leaving the room.

"He's downstairs taking care of the insurance forms," Michael told him with a mischievous smile once they were alone in the room.

Justin blushed, dismayed that he was so transparent. "He doesn't have to do that," he mumbled. "It's not his responsibility."

"He said you're still under his insurance," Michael replied with a small shrug. "It just makes sense."

Justin studied him for a moment. "So, you're just going to stay out here two more days to watch over me," he said warily.

"Well, actually," Michael hedged, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I have to get back, but Brian…

"No," Justin said forcefully, his eyes wide with panic. "Michael, I can't."

"He cares about you," Michael reminded him. "He wants to make sure you're OK."

Justin shook his head slightly, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm not OK," he hissed. "I haven't been OK since he looked me in the eye and told me it was over." He took a deep breath, managing to rein in his emotions before the tears spilled over. "And I won't be OK when he leaves again in two days without any intention of looking back." His voice cracked on the last words and he had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could continue. "I can't do it again, Michael," he whispered. "Please, I just can't."

Brian had been about to enter the room when he heard Michael's words. He'd taken a step back, remaining hidden while he waited for Justin's response and when it came, the words tore through his heart like a blade. He'd always considered Justin the strongest person he knew, but Michael had been right. He'd broken him. To hear him pleading not to have to go through the pain again was more than Brian could bear. Silently, he retraced his steps down the hall to the nearest restroom where he lost what little he had in his stomach for the second time in as many days.

If only the pain in his chest was so easily expelled.

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It was another half hour before the doctor returned to the room. "All set," he announced with a smile. "Mr. Kinney has taken care of things with administration so you're good to go." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, he left this for you at the nurses' station."

Justin frowned but took the bag the man was holding out to him. "What's this?"

"He thought you'd want something clean to wear out of here," Michael explained, slightly puzzled. Brian was supposed to take care of the insurance and then meet them in Justin's room to tell him he was staying to help. The change in plans had him concerned.

"So, why don't you go ahead and change. I'll just go over a few things with your friend," the doctor suggested. After looking from the doctor to Michael and back again, Justin nodded and made his way toward the adjoining bathroom.

"Where's Brian?" Michael asked with a frown once Justin was out of earshot.

The doctor drew him out into the corridor where Brian stood waiting and left the two men alone. Silently, Brian handed his friend a wad of cash, a slip of paper and a card key for a hotel room.

"Brian?" Michael questioned. "What's going on?"

"Take care of him, Mikey," Brian said huskily.

"You're leaving?" Brian looked worse than he had at the morgue and it was beginning to scare him.

"I have to go," Brian choked. "I'll call you at the hotel."

With that, he turned and hurried away from his worried friend.

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Michael and Justin rode the taxi to the hotel in silence. The former was concerned about what was going on with his best friend and the latter was wondering how he'd get through two days with a man who seemed to barely tolerate him most of the time. Maybe that was being a little unfair. While Michael had resented him in the beginning, things between them had greatly improved over the years to the point where Justin was now able to consider him a friend. He had no doubts, however, that even Michael's tentative friendship would be withdrawn if Justin ever hurt Brian again.

But he had, hadn't he? He'd told the doctor in front of both Michael and Brian that they were no longer partners. He hadn't been able to look Brian in the eye at the time, but he knew how much those words must have hurt.

He knew only too well.

Yet, instead of tearing a strip off him like he had when Justin had left Brian for Ethan, Michael was offering to stay with him, was being kind and considerate… even nice to him. By the time the taxi dropped them off at the hotel, he was still trying to figure it out.

"Wow, this is nicer than the room we had last night," Michael exclaimed upon entering the suite. Along with the cash, Brian had given him a slip of paper with the hotel's address and room number on it. The first night, it had been about convenience, since the hotel chosen was close to the hospital, but the second choice was obviously all about comfort.

Justin slowly walked through the rooms. There was a small kitchenette, a sitting room and a large bedroom with two queen sized beds. Even the bathroom was larger and more elegant than most hotels he'd ever been in. "Yeah, it's nice," he said, feeling he needed to reply to Michael's comment.

"How do you feel?" Michael asked, watching the other man sink wearily into a heavily upholstered chair. "Can I get you anything?"

Justin looked up at him and couldn't resist a smile of amusement. "You don't have to hover, Michael," he teased gently. "I'm OK."

Chuckling in relief and slight embarrassment, Michael moved to sit on the sofa opposite the blond. "Sorry, but I come by it naturally."

Justin laughed. "That's for sure."

The moment of levity over, they both sat silently for a moment. "I didn't leave him, Michael," Justin finally said quietly. "I don't know what you heard, but I didn't just walk out on him to come here."

"I know," Michael replied. "Brian told me what happened."

Justin stiffened slightly at that. Brian always could talk to Michael easier than he could talk to his own partner. Then again, he talked to Daphne about things he could never tell Brian. Maybe it wasn't really all that different.

"I suppose you're going to tell me I should have waited it out. Talked to him before I left," he said, his tone bordering on defensive.

Michael only shook his head, staring at Justin with those puppy dog eyes. "Actually, I'm not," he said, sounding surprised at his own words. "I probably would have done the same thing in your situation." He paused for a moment. "I thought he made a big mistake and I told him so."

"You did?" Justin asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, I did," Michael answered, allowing a sly smile. "I think my exact words were 'fuck you'."

Justin laughed, shaking his head. "I don't imagine that went over too well," he mused thoughtfully.

"No," Michael agreed, "but it needed to be said. I couldn't believe he did that after…"

"After throwing me out the last time?" Justin finished the thought quietly.

Michael nodded, regretting that he'd brought up the incident, but Justin just brushed it off, getting to his feet and moving into the small kitchen for two bottles of water. Returning, he handed one to Michael, opened his own and took a long drink. For a few quiet moments, he just stared at the bottle in his hands.

"I try so hard, Michael," he finally said quietly. "I know I hurt him with Ethan, but I've tried so hard to show him how much I love him and it just doesn't matter. It's all for nothing."

"No, it's not," Michael assured him. "He just has a hard time expressing how he feels."

"Bullshit," Justin smirked. "He tells you, he tells Lindsay, he tells Gus." Ok, so Gus was different and he knew it, but still, it hurt to hear him able to say the words to others, knowing he'd never say them to him. "It wouldn't hurt so much if he just couldn't say them, you know?" he tried to explain. "But to hear them come out of his mouth and know they're never going to come in my direction is just too hard." He took a deep breath. "But that isn't really the point," he continued. "It's not like I don't know he cares about me, but I get sick of hearing people defend him by implying he can't say the words. He can and he does, to everyone who matters except me."

"Because it's different with you," Michael said, not sure he even realized that until the words came out. "He can't say the same thing to you that he does to me or Lindsay because he doesn't feel the same way about you that he does about us."

"Yeah, it's different," Justin said in a tired voice. "I'm the only one he throws out of his life on a continuous basis." He began massaging his temple with two fingers. "And I know it's because he's scared of being in love, of being hurt, but the truth is, I just can't take it one more time. I'm a fucking wreck when we're together because I never know how long it's going to last. And then I'm a wreck when we're apart because I just miss him so much." He closed his eyes wearily. "I'm just tired of feeling that way."

Michael listened and watched while the blond continued to idly rub the side of his head. "Headache?" he asked.

Justin nodded, but didn't say anything. Getting to his feet, the dark-haired man retrieved the bag they'd picked up at the hospital pharmacy and took out the small bottle. Extracting two capsules, he handed them to Justin who took them without comment.

"Thanks," he murmured after he'd washed them down with the rest of the water.

"Maybe you should try to get some rest," Michael suggested. "The doctor said the pills would make you sleepy."

Justin nodded and got to his feet. "Yeah, good idea," he sighed, heading for the bedroom.

"Want me to order something for when you wake up?"

Justin turned and wrinkled his nose slightly. "No thanks. I'm really not very hungry these days." On that telling note, he went into the bedroom and closed the door.

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Justin had been asleep nearly an hour when the phone rang. Michael answered on the first ring, hoping it wouldn't wake the sleeping man. "Hello?"

"Mikey," Brian's voice sounded over the line, stronger than it had been when last they'd spoken. "How is he?"

"He seems all right," Michael answered, casting a look toward the closed bedroom door. "He had a headache and took a couple of those pain pills the doctor ordered. He's been asleep about an hour now."

"Good," Brian replied. "That's the best thing for him."

"Where are you?" Michael asked.

"Room 504. Just down the hall."

"Oh." The relief in that one word was almost palpable.

"What? Did you think I took off back to the Pitts?" Brian asked, obviously irritated.

"No," Michael said not very convincingly, "It's just, after the hospital, I didn't know what was going on. You were the one who was going to stay with him, then all of a sudden you're gone."

Brian was silent for a moment. "I heard what he said to you, Michael," he finally admitted quietly.

He'd been afraid of that. "He's just upset, Brian," he pointed out. "He was already hurting, and then he goes through a traumatic experience like that. Hell, you can't blame him for not thinking straight."

"I don't blame him," Brian clarified. "I just don't want to put any more pressure on him right now."

"Pressure?" Michael repeated. "What kind of pressure?"

Brian debated whether he should disclose his plan, and then realized he might need the other man's help. "I want him back, Mikey," he said softly. "I don't care what I have to do, or whether he wants to stay in L.A. and work for six months or six fucking years, I just want to be a part of his life whatever he's doing and wherever he's doing it." He swallowed hard before continuing. "I just can't lose him again."

Michael grinned into the phone and was glad Brian wasn't there to see it, though he was sure it would be evident in his voice. "I don't believe it," he teased. "What happened to 'don't ever go after anyone, Mikey'?"

After a brief silence, he was able to hear the smile in Brian's voice as well. "He's not just anyone."

"Yeah, asshole, I know."

"Take care of him, Mikey. I'm just a few doors down if you need me, but don't tell him that, OK?"

"OK," Michael agreed. "I'll call you later with an update."

He hung up the phone feeling better than he had in days and it wasn't even his relationship. Suddenly, he suspected the next couple of days would be very interesting.

His relief was short-lived, however, when he heard screams coming from the bedroom a short time later. Rushing into the room, he found Justin in the throes of a violent nightmare. "Jesus," he breathed, rushing to the younger man's side. "Justin," he said gently, not wanting to startle him. He tried placing a hand on his arm, only to have the blond jerk away violently. It didn't take much to know he was out of his depth in such a situation.

Grabbing the phone by the bed, he quickly dialed room 504. "Brian!" he said desperately.

"What's wrong?" Brian demanded, his voice laden with concern.

"It's Justin. He's having some sort of nightmare or something and I can't wake him up. I don't know.."

"I'll be right there," Brian said and hung up the phone.

Michael ran to the door and opened it just as Brian arrived. Without a word, he ran to the bedroom where Justin remained locked in the terror of his dreams. Slowing his pace, he slipped the sling off his arm and approached the bed, speaking quietly. "It's OK, Justin, it's just me," he said as he sat down beside the younger man and took him in his arms. Justin fought him at first, but Brian's hold was unrelenting. He whispered softly and stroked the distraught man's hair gently with one hand while the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

Michael watched in awe as Justin gradually calmed until he was merely shuddering in Brian's arms. "Bri?" the blond croaked through dry lips.

"Yeah," Brian breathed gently. He turned to his friend and mouthed 'water' before turning his full attention back to the man in his arms. "I'm here. It's OK."

Justin drew comfort from the embrace for only a few seconds more before pulling himself roughly away. "It's not OK," he hissed.

The anger and frustration in his voice was undeniable.

"Want to talk about it?" Brian asked quietly.

"No, I don't fucking want to talk about it," Justin snapped getting angrily out of the bed.

He nearly bowled Michael over as he stormed from the room toward the bathroom.

Michael looked at Brian questioningly, but the latter only shook his head and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. After a moment, he began to speak. "He had them after the… after the prom," he explained, still unable to say the 'b' word. "Sometimes two or three times a night for months."

"Jesus," Michael breathed.

"Even though he couldn't remember anything when he was awake, his mind relived it every night in his sleep."

Michael considered that for a few minutes. "You think he's remembering the fall?"

Brian shrugged. "Or the gunshots, or the bat again, who knows."

"What do we do?" Michael asked.

It didn't seem like Brian was going to answer at first, but when he did, his voice was filled with determination. "You're going home," he said. "I'll stay with Justin."

"But he said…"

"I don't care what he said; I'm the only one who can handle him when he gets like this."

"And what makes you think I want you to handle me?" Justin demanded angrily from the doorway. "Who fucking died and made you my keeper, Brian?"

Brian looked at him, careful to keep his expression calm and neutral. "You need someone to stay with you and I'm the one with the nightmare experience, so it makes sense it should be me."

Justin fumed at that. "Well it doesn't make any fucking sense to me!" he yelled. "I don't want you here, Brian, and I sure as hell don't need you! So just get the fuck out and go home!"

Brian got to his feet, eyes narrowed. He stood looking at Justin for a moment before turning to Michael and handing him a card key. "We're trading rooms," he said, his tone brooking no argument.

Michael hesitated where he was, looking from Brian's determined expression to the furious one on Justin's face and back again. "Uh…"

"Go, Mikey," Brian said firmly. "I'll call you later."

Michael nodded and left the room. A few seconds later, they could hear the door to the suite open and close.

The two men stood facing one another, neither willing to back down. Finally, silently acknowledging Justin's recent hospitalization, Brian relented. "How's the headache?" he asked.

"Fuck the headache," Justin replied, glaring at him. "I told you I don't want you here."

"I guess I didn't hear you," Brian retorted, trying to hide a smirk. "You tend to mumble a lot."

The words caught Justin totally off guard and his eyes widened slightly before he let out a sigh and turned away. "It won't work, Brian," he said wearily. "I don't want to fight with you, but I don't want to do this again."

"Well, Sunshine," Brian replied. "Seeing as we're stuck here together for the next couple of days, I suggest we try to make the most of it."

The implication that he had no choice in the matter only served to fuel Justin's anger once again, despite the fact that his head was beginning to throb. Whirling around to face his lover, he raged, "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

"Because I'm your fucking partner whether you like it or not!" Brian yelled back, having reached his limit.

Justin barked a harsh laugh. "Yeah? For how long, Brian? Until the next time something comes up that you can't fucking deal with? Until the next time I make a mistake and forget to set the fucking alarm? Until I don't run right up and tell you I overheard one of your fucking phone messages? Until I get another job that doesn't fit into your fucking life plan?"

His head was reeling and he had to take a step back to steady himself. Brian was there in an instant with a hand on his arm.

"Don't," the blond hissed, pulling away harshly. "You don't have the right to touch me anymore."

The words hurt, but Brian took a step back. "Justin," he began quietly. "You're not helping yourself getting so worked up. Why don't you lie down, get some rest and when you're feeling better we can … talk."

"Talk?" Justin railed. "We don't fucking talk, Brian. We talk by fucking."

"Maybe it's time to remedy that," Brian suggested calmly.

Justin could only look at him incredulously. "Ok, Brian," he finally challenged. "You want to talk? Let's talk. Why don't you start by telling me how little I obviously mean to you if you can throw me away because you don't like the career choices I make. Or maybe you can remind me again that I'm more than just a fuck-buddy, but don't forget to make it clear that I'm not *too* much more. Oh! I know! We can talk about the old classic! How you don't believe in love!"

"Justin, you know I…"

"Yeah, I know," Justin sneered, angry tears tracking down flushed cheeks. "You don't believe in my kind of love, but do you want to know something, Brian? I'd take any kind! I'd take the kind you feel for Michael, or Lindsay or Debbie!" His shoulders shook as sobs wracked his body. "You can't even say you love me as a friend!"

"Because that wouldn't be enough!" Brian shouted back. Instantly, he regretted his loss of control. "It would never be enough," he said more quietly. "You're… you're more than a friend."

Justin digested those words, words he would have given his right arm to hear such a short time ago. In his current mood, all he could do was hold his hands out at his sides in a gesture of surrender. "If this is more, I don't want it, Brian," he whispered brokenly. "I'd rather be a friend you'll always want than a partner you won't."

He didn't know if it was the words or the look of complete desolation on the blond's face, but Brian pulled the man into his arms before he even realized what he was doing. Justin tensed at first but then his body began trembling as he lost the little control he had left of his emotions.

Brian could only hold him while he cried, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against his own tears. "It's gonna be OK, Justin," he whispered. "I'll make it right. We'll make it right together." He wasn't sure if his words had managed to get through his lover's tears, but it didn't matter. He'd meant them and that's what counted.

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