STORMY
PART 4 – REVISED
"You know better - I'm not
into talking," Brian said as he sat on the sofa.
"Well, that's where our problem
lies," Justin responded. "We never really talked. I mean, we talked about
people we'd fucked, people we hung out with, our circle of friends, but never
about us - simple little things like our day, the weather, or any of that."
"That's plenty of talking,"
Brian said.
"That's not enough. That's
merely conversation. We need to actually COMMUNICATE. We need to let each
other know what's on our minds, whether it's good or bad, and work with that.
Instead of just fucking me, or using your other methods of sending cryptic
messages to me, you have to TELL me what's going on. I'm not psychic, and
neither are you," Justin said.
"We're not married - we didn't
have that kind of relationship," Brian retorted.
"We didn't have a relationship
at all! You know what your problem is, Brian? You're so damn scared that
if you say what's on your mind or in your heart for once, I or someone else
you care about will take that information and use it against you! What does
that say about you?"
Brian said nothing and lowered
his eyes.
"It means you don't trust me!
And you know what's even worse? You trust yourself even less. That's why
you'd rather push people away than deal with them. That's why you pushed
me away - you wouldn't say 'I love you,' but you said it anyway when you
pushed me into the arms of someone you thought would make me happy," Justin
said tearfully.
Brian stared at Justin, stunned.
He forgot that while Michael had seen more of the inner Brian than anyone
else, so had Justin. Unlike Michael however, Justin didn't make excuses for
Brian. Justin could read between the lines most of the time, but after the
bashing, he'd lost most of that ability to read him. Realization hit, and
Brian slumped on the sofa, holding his head in his hands.
"Justin - what happened between
last week and this one that made you figure all this out? I've been the same
way since you met me - perhaps I'd mellowed a bit, but I didn't really change.
Before the Prom, you knew what I meant without me saying a word, but afterward,
it seemed you needed more and more. And now you're basically telling me
everything I've been telling you for the past two years, without words. I'm
confused."
"The day after the Rage party,
I went back to that counselor - you remember the one my mom took me to when
she found out I was gay?" At Brian's nod, he continued.
"I talked to her for two hours,
and she knew, just from everything I'd told her and the news
reports, that I was probably suffering from PTSD
- Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That not only explained the fear of crowds
I had in the beginning, but the nightmares, the rages, my erratic behavior,
and especially my losing the ability to read you." Justin noticed Brian's
face had become open and vulnerable, and curled up beside him on the sofa
as he continued his story.
"I'm nowhere near cured, and
probably never will be - that's the nature of it. I hate it, but I can deal
with it. It's a huge burden and one I wouldn't wish on anybody. I'm a lot
better than I was in the beginning, thanks to you, but I still have a long
way to go. I also talked to her about you and your role in the bashing, and
she's sure it affected you too."
"I'm fine, Justin - nothing's
wrong with me," Brian said harshly. He didn't like the idea of Justin and
some therapist psychoanalyzing him while he wasn't around to defend himself.
"Sure, Brian - keep bullshitting
yourself. Michael told me what you were up to while I was in the hospital.
I remember that look on your face when we finally saw each other after I
got out. I remember the look on your face when I freaked out at Gus' first
birthday party. Even more so, I remember you falling apart in that parking
lot when you realized your attempts to help me remember the Prom failed.
What happened to me affected you just as much, even if you don't want to
admit it. You shut yourself off from everyone, including yourself."
"It was just pain management,
Justin."
"Keep telling yourself that
when one of us has to identify your body in the morgue," Justin said coldly.
Brian rolled his lips inward,
and looked away from Justin. He thought Justin was just being a Drama Princess
as usual, but there was some truth to what he said. "Hey, stupid," an inner
voice warned. "You almost died last night, or did you forget that little
detail?" Brian looked at the floor, trying to come up with a response, but
Justin came back at him full steam before he could even breathe.
"Brian, I know I sound like
a broken record, but you need to trust me. You need to trust yourself. I'm
never going to love anyone the way I love you, no matter how many cliffs
you have to shove me off. If you were really as honest as you'd like to claim,
you'd tell me you feel the same way. I really wanted things with Ethan to
work out. I really hoped I would get everything I craved - that reassurance
that I was okay, and that I was worthy of love, but I didn't. I was a lost
cause to Ethan, as I thought YOU were. I gave up on you, like he gave up
on me. I stopped chasing, and I'm not going to anymore. I've given and given
to you, never expecting to receive, but hoping to. Now I'm going to start
asking for what I want instead of hoping."
"What do you want?" Brian asked.
"I want this to be a real
relationship.”
"I don't do
relationships.”
"I'm sure you've published
a novel tiled 'Things Brian Kinney Doesn't Do.' Have you ever once sat down
and wondered why you don't 'do' anything? Have you ever stopped after declaring
another 'I Don't Do Blank' credo, and really read between the lines? I'll
bet you haven't. I'm tired of hearing that shit. Whenever you say you don't
'do' something, my first question is 'Why?' Why don't you do it? Were you
told you weren't supposed to? Did you do it once and get hurt, like someone
who had a bad experience at the doctor and swears off doctors for life? What
happened, Brian?"
"What makes you think there's
something behind it? That's just the way I am."
"It's not! You've been telling
yourself this is the way you are, probably since you were my age! Somebody
must have really fucked you up!"
"If I wanted a therapist, there's
a good one I can find at the baths."
"Fuck you, Brian!
if you can't get past whatever it was that made
you this way, there is no way we can do this." Justin got
up, ready to leave the loft, but Brian grabbed his
wrist.
"You want the truth? Don't
say I didn't warn you when I tell it. It's not pretty, and it's something
even Michael doesn't know about," Brian said. He really wasn't ready to tell
this story, but if Justin wanted to know the real Brian, and if Brian wanted
Justin back in his life, this was important.
"Tell me Brian. Please tell
me," Justin pleaded.
"It was Lindsay."
End of Part 4