STORMY
PART 2 – REVISED
Michael and Lindsay practically
ran over to the doctor, anxiously awaiting his report.
“Once he had his nausea
episode upon regaining consciousness, he was very disoriented and weak. We
recommend keeping him here overnight until he’s stronger. He will be
fine, but he’ll have one heck of a hangover.”
“Oh, thank God,”
Lindsay sobbed, sagging against Michael. Michael held onto her to keep her
upright, his eyes repeating Lindsay’s words.
“Thank you, Doctor,”
Michael said. “Can we see him?”
“You can, but I must warn
you - it won’t be pretty.”
Michael and Lindsay looked
in on their friend, noticing the slight bluish tinge of his pale skin. He
was asleep, his deviated septum creating a slight wheezing noise, but at
least his breathing was back to normal.
He looked like he’d been lying out in the snow for an
hour.
Lindsay sat beside the bed,
and smoothed Brian’s bangs from his forehead. “You really scared
the shit out of us,” she said. “You can’t keep doing this
to yourself. You can’t keep martyring yourself to make other people
happy. I only realized today what you did to Justin. He won’t be happy
without you, you know - you won’t be happy without him. Look at what
you’ve done to yourself since he left!
If you can hear me, think about
what I’ve said, and know that we all love you.” With that, Lindsay
kissed his forehead, got up, and walked out of the room.
Michael reached down and squeezed
Brian’s hand, gave him a quick kiss on his lips, and followed Lindsay
out the door.
A few hours later Brian woke
up and opened his eyes, then quickly closed them. The light in the room was
way too bright, and made the pounding in his head thump harder. “Ohhhhh,
man,” he groaned. This was the worst headache of his life - he wanted
the heavy-metal drummer in his head to stop immediately, but telling him
was futile. He decided to try to sleep it off.
He woke up an hour later, happy
the drumming had lessened, and opened his eyes again. A nurse smiled down
into his face, and he looked around the room. “Shit - what happened?”
he asked.
“You drank a hell of a
lot more than you could handle,” the nurse said. “Were you not
paying attention, or were you trying to kill yourself?”
“What? What are you talking
about? I just had some Beam at home - “
“Yeah - your friend -
Michael, I think?” at Brian’s nod, the nurse continued. “Yeah,
Michael found four empty bottles of Beam at your side when he found you passed
out on the couch. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, you wouldn’t
be talking to me - you’d be talking to some angel.” Brian laughed
to himself, thinking how much like Deb this nurse sounded.
“That’s not necessarily
a bad thing, you know,” Brian retorted.
“Who was he?”
“Who?”
“The guy who made you
do this to yourself.”
“What makes you think
some guy is involved?”
“Well, first of all, I
can tell you’re gay; second of all, no one drinks that much unless they
are full-blown alcoholics or nursing a broken heart. Which is it?”
“I’m not about to
divulge my personal problems to you.”
“Ah, so it IS some guy!
Let me tell ya - nobody is worth drinking yourself to death. Now, get some
rest, we’ll have some food for ya later, and then if the doc permits,
you’ll be free to go.”
Nodding gingerly, being mindful
of his still-aching head, Brian settled back on the uncomfortable hospital
bed and was about to fall asleep, when a familiar voice broke the silence
in the room:
“Brian?”
Brian looked over the edge
of the bed to see a very nervous Justin standing before him.
“What the fuck are you
doing here? I figured you’d be having a floor picnic with your
fiddler,” Brian muttered.
“Lindsay told me what
happened,” Justin said.
“How the hell did she
know?” Brian asked.
“She was with Michael
when he found you at the loft. Why did you do it, Brian?”
“Why did I do
what? Almost drink myself to
death?
Don’t fucking dramatize
it.”
“I don’t mean that;
I meant, why did you do what you did to me at the Rage party?”
“You weren’t happy
with me anymore, but this kid you were with seemed to make you happy, so
I thought I’d -
“Push me away, just like
you did to Michael last year.”
Brian didn’t know how
to answer that - he knew the kid was perceptive. He stared at him, trying
to gather his wits.
“When are you going to
stop sacrificing your happiness for other people’s own
good? When are you going to realize you deserve
to be loved?” Justin cried. Brian vaguely remembered hearing Lindsay
say something similar last night, and like the night before, he had the same
answer. He didn’t know.
“No matter what you do
to me, Brian, I will always love you. I can say it now, not because of what
happened to you, but because I think you needed me to say it to you as much
as I needed you to say it to me. Ethan knows this; that’s why he dumped
me outside
“He dumped
you?” Brian asked.
“Yep.
I moved in with Daphne,” Justin responded.
“Okay, as long as you’re
safe,” Brian said.
Justin saw Brian was getting
tired, and prepared to leave. “Bye Brian - I’ll see you,”
Justin said, and walked out.
Brian went to sleep, and woke
up hours later, feeling refreshed. Perhaps the effects of his drinking binge
wore off, or the conversation with Justin eased his mind - either way, he
knew he’d be going home.
After a most unappetizing
breakfast, Brian got the okay from the doctor to leave. Michael brought the
Jeep to pick him up and take him home in silence, sensing that Brian was
not in the mood to chat.
Michael wanted to go in the
loft with him, but Brian turned him down. “I just need some time alone,
Mikey,” Brian said.
“You’ve had enough
time alone Brian, and look what happened,” Michael whined.
“I’ll be fine - now
go hang out with the Professor.”
Once Michael was gone, Brian
undressed, showered and shaved, then tossed on his robe. He went to the kitchen
and grabbed a bottle of water, not in the mood to touch any liquor for a
while. He heard the key jingle in the lock before he sat, and went over to
the door.
“I thought I told you
to go home, Mi-” He stopped in mid-sentence as he wrenched open the
door and found Justin on the other side. “What the fuck are you doing
here?”