Together We Can Make It

Brian shoved Justin out of the loft and slammed the door. He knew that he was doing the right thing. As long as Justin hadn't known, he wouldn't be pitied, but now, now that he knew, it was only a matter of time. First would be Justin wanting to take care of him, then it would slowly turn to pity as he got sick due to his treatments, and once he'd gotten tired of him always being sore and sick, when he'd finally have enough, Justin would leave again. Especially once he realized that Brian was no longer whole, no longer had the perfect body. It was better to do it now. Now, while he still had the strength to possibly survive it.

As Brian slid down the door and quietly began to cry, he realized that it didn't matter, that it was already too late. He was sore, sick, and hurting, and he wanted someone, wanted Justin, to take care of him because no matter how much he deigned otherwise, he loved Justin.

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Justin finally stopped banging on the door and felt his anger build at Brian for doing what he always did, pushing people away, pushing them off that famous Kinney cliff. Gathering up his things, he began to walk down the stairs when a noise stopped him. Walking quietly back up to the door, he heard the soft sob as it continued to slide down the door. Justin followed it down until he was sitting on the ground on the other side of it. Leaning his head against the door he sighed as he placed his hand where he though Brian's back might be on the other side.

Justin sat there on the floor until the quiet crying stopped and he could tell that Brian was standing up and moving away from the door. Once he was sure he was gone, Justin stood up, took a shaky breath and wiped the tears that had silently been falling from his face. Gathering his stuff once again, he moved down the stairs. He knew he had a lot of thinking to do, but he knew that somehow he was going to figure out a way for Brian to realize that he wasn't going anywhere, that they would make it through this. He just needed to work this out.

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The next day at the diner, Justin saw Michael and felt his anger once again grow. Walking over to the table to take their order, Justin felt Michael staring at him. Justin looked up and caught Michael's look. Michael almost flinched from the look and knew that something was wrong. He also knew what it was. With a sigh, he got up and followed Justin. "We need to talk."

Justin looked at Michael. "No Michael, we don't. You've talked enough don't you think? He kicked me out Michael. He wants nothing to do with me. He won't let me help him or even just be there in case he needs help. Now why don't you stay out of it for once in your life while I try and fix the damage you've caused to my relationship. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Justin ignored Michael for the rest of the day and everyone began to wonder what was going on. When they asked Michael he told them that they were having a fight over how the next issue of 'Rage' should be. They all believed him and left Justin alone for a change.

When Justin got off of work, he looked at the clock and wondered if Brian was home yet. Picking up a sandwich for Brian, he headed over to the loft. When he got there, he didn't see the corvette anywhere and all the lights were out. Justin let himself into the loft and heard a murmur coming from the bedroom. Walking as quietly as he could, he looked in to see Brian lying in bed, sweating, tossing and turning, obviously sick. Justin reached over and pulled the blanket back up over him, before moving into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a bottle of water, which he carried back into the bedroom and placed on the bedside table for Brian in case he woke up.

Looking down at him, all he wanted to do was comfort him, but knew that Brian wouldn't allow him to do so just yet. Instead he gathered up all of Brian's clothes and put them in the bag that Brian used to take them to the dry cleaners. Going into the bathroom, he took a washcloth and dampened it with cold water. He then went into the bedroom and gently, so as to not wake him, washed Brian's hands and face. Brian turned into the touch and sighed, but didn't wake up. Justin sat the cloth down on the bedside table and looked to see if there was anything else he could do while he was there. Not seeing anything, he got up, placed the sandwich in the fridge and with a final look in the direction of the bedroom, left the loft. He knew that what he had done wasn't much, but it was a subtle start until Brian came to his senses.

Brian awoke in the night, thirsty and sore. He sat slowly up in bed to go get a drink when he noticed the bottle of water on the nightstand. He didn't remember setting it there, but as it wasn't too cold, and as he had taken his medication before leaving the office, he could have easily done it. Drinking the whole bottle, along with taking more of his medication, he slowly laid back down and waited for the meds to take effect. He couldn't help but roll over and pull the Justin's pillow to himself for comfort, and wished that it was Justin there instead. As the medicine began to lull him to sleep again, he couldn't help but feel the single tear which rolled out of his eye.

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Brian made it to the office and was feeling a little better. He had another treatment scheduled for later in the day and knew that afterward he would be feeling like shit again. He didn't know how he was going to pull this off. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at his schedule and tried to figure out how he could get all his work done in the morning up to his appointment, so that he could take the rest of the time off. Sighing, he realized that he wouldn't be able to work it out, and that he'd have to come back to the office. Looking over the next few days, he quickly began to rework his schedule for the rest of the week.

Brian worked steadily through the day getting as much done as he could. He was able to call and reschedule the presentation he had for the afternoon, and it looked like he was going to be able to go home after all. Gathering his things, he informed Cynthia that he was going to an appointment and wouldn't be back for the rest of the day.

Justin watched as Brian left. He made sure to keep out of sight until he knew for sure that he was gone. Walking into Kinnetik he called out to Cynthia, "Hi Cynthia."

Cynthia waved at Justin. "Hey Justin, you just missed him."

Justin smiled and stopped by her desk. He was glad that Brian hadn't said anything to her about them yet. "Oh, that's okay. I left one of my sketch pads here the other day and I'm just going to grab it, and then check my email before I head over to my studio to work."

Cynthia smiled, "Oh, ok. Any message you want me to give his highness?"

Justin laughed. "Nope, he already knows where I'll be. I'll talk to you later."

Justin turned and walked into Brian's office. Booting up the computer, he quickly printed out Brian's schedule for the rest of the week, and then made a list of things he would need. Shutting down the computer, Justin went over to the little refrigerator to see if it was filled with things that Brian would be able to drink and eat. Inside he found it filled with bottled water and nothing else. Justin added some more to his list and left, calling out to Cynthia as he left.

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Brian walked into the loft feeling like shit. He knew he was going to be sick soon, and if he had been smart, he would have had a cab just take him to his appointment and then home afterwards. He didn't think he'd find anything in the fridge since he hadn't been to the store, but he hoped that he at least had some water.

Opening the fridge, he was surprised to find not only water, but several containers of soup, different flavors but all easy on the stomach. He didn't remember them being in there yesterday, but figured they must have been put there by Justin before he had kicked him out. He immediately squashed the thoughts of Justin that where trying to fill his head.

Grabbing a bottle of water, he made his way up to the bedroom and began to remove his clothes, once more wishing that Justin were there. He knew it couldn't be helped though. He had done the right thing. Justin wouldn't want a sick man, a man who was no longer whole.

He was all set to crawl in bed when the first wave of nausea hit and he rushed as quickly to the bathroom as he could before he lost what little was in his stomach. Knowing that he wouldn't make it back in time if he laid down, he went to grab the trash can but it wasn't where he usually kept it. Walking back to the bedroom, he saw it sitting beside the bed, ready for use. Again, he didn't remember placing it there, but he must have had the previous night.

Crawling into bed, he sighed, grabbed the pillow that used to be Justin's, and once again cuddled it to his chest, refusing to acknowledge the tear that slipped down his cheek as being due to anything other then him feeling like shit.

After being sick off and on for a couple of hours, he finally fell into a fitful sleep. An hour later, Justin opened and closed the door to the loft as quietly as he could and took off his shoes. Walking into the bedroom, he saw Brian tossing fitfully in his sleep; a dirty trash can by the bed, washrags thrown on the floor, and an empty water bottle. As quietly as he could, Justin cleaned up the trash can and removed the washrags. Placing the clean can back by the bed, Justin placed some clean washrags on the bedside table and took the empty water bottle.

Justin moved into the kitchen and threw the empty bottle away before moving to the fridge to grab a full one. He noticed that none of the soups had been touched, and began to worry about Brian not eating when he knew that he needed to. Since he had found out about the cancer, Justin had been researching it, and knew that the treatments Brian had been undergoing were making him sick, but that he needed to eat to keep up his strength.

Justin heard sounds coming from the bedroom, and cautiously moved toward it to see if Brian was going to need anything, or if he was just mumbling in his sleep. Brian tossed some more and cried out a little from whatever he was dreaming about. Justin walked up the stairs and placed the bottle of water on the bedside table before sitting on the platform around the bed.

Gently he began to run his fingers lightly through Brian's hair as he talked quietly to him. "Shhhh, it's okay. You're going to be okay Brian. I'm going to take care of you and continue to love you whether you want me to or not."

Brian opened his eyes. "Justin?"

Justin smiled down at Brian. "Shhh, it's okay. Go back to sleep."

Brian licked his lips. "Thirsty."

Justin opened the bottle of water and handed it to Brian. "Here you go."

Brian took the water and drank deeply from it before handing it back and closing his eyes. Justin took the water and placed it back on the bedside table, then carefully climbed into the bed with Brian where he was immediately wrapped in his arms.

"Brian? I want you to listen okay? You need to eat something when you get up in the morning. I know you feel like shit but you have got to keep your strength up to fight this." Justin whispered intently.

Brian, with his eyes closed, knew that he was dreaming, but didn't care. He heard what Justin was telling him and squeezed him closer to him. Slowly he drifted deeper into sleep, and didn't wake up until the alarm went off the next morning.

Turning off the alarm, Brian opened his eyes and looked around for Justin. Just as he figured. It was all a dream. Justin was nowhere to be seen. Climbing slowly out of bed, he stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stepping in, he thought about his dreams of the past night and realized that dream or no, Justin was right. He needed to eat something, or he would never be able to keep quiet the fact that he was sick.

Sighing, Brian got out of the shower and dressed for work. He stopped and pick up a bagel on the way to the office, and even though he really didn't want to eat it, he made himself do it anyway. As he ate, he realized that regardless of how sick he had felt when he got home last night, he had actually slept better then he had the night before. He knew that it was because he had dreamed that Justin was with him, taking care of him. Of course he knew that this wasn't true, as he had push Justin off yet another cliff.

Brian finished his bagel and got back to work as he had a lot to do before he left early again for his treatment.

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Justin watched Brian leave, and then made his way back into the loft. He had barely made it out of bed this morning before the alarm went off. It was too soon after Brian kicking him out, and he knew that Brian would have been pissed to find him there this morning. Walking back in, he went and took a shower and changed his clothes. Brian still hadn't thrown his clothes out and that was a good sigh that he really hadn't wanted him gone. Gathering up his and Brian's dirty clothes, he ran Brian's down to the dry cleaners and took his own back to his apartment before heading over to PIFA for classes.

Once classes were over, he rushed back to the loft, and took out some of the soup, which he heated until it was too hot to eat. Pouring it into a container from the diner, he placed it outside the loft door. Looking around, he straightened the bed, made sure the trash can had a good liner and that clean washrags were beside the bed. Taking a deep breath, he left and locked the loft behind him, on his way to work at the diner.

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Brian had the cab pick him up outside his loft and drop him off there again after his treatment. Taking the elevator up, he thought about how tired he was, and how he was again going to be alone having to take care of himself. He was beginning to regret sending Justin way. He knew deep down that Justin wouldn't have left him, at least not while he was sick. He just hadn't wanted to get used to being taken care of by someone, only to have them leave when it was over. He didn't want to see the love turn to pity and sadness.

Stepping off the elevator, he walked to the door of the loft and saw a container sitting at its foot. Bending down carefully, he picked it up and smelled chicken soup waft from the lid. Walking into the loft, Brian set it down on the counter and wondered if he'd be able to eat it. He was surprised to find that it was still hot and figured he must have missed Mikey by only a little bit.

Just then a wave of nausea hit him and he rushed to the bathroom. After he was sick, he stood at the sink washing out his mouth. Glancing up he caught his reflection in the mirror. He stared intently at it, looking to see if there was any sigh of illness in his face. He saw some dark circles under his eyes and they were bloodshot. His skin was pale but other then that, he looked okay. Just then nausea hit again and he was once more sick. Again, he washed out his mouth. When he caught his reflection again, he grew angry.

"Fuck!" he yelled and raised his fist and smashed it into the mirror.

He was surprised when it shattered, and looked at his hand. Except for a small cut on the side of his hand, there was no other wound. Stepping out of the bathroom, he walked into the kitchen and washed it out. Sighing, he leaned against the counter. Looking at the soup container, he knew that he wouldn't be able to eat it, at least not right away but maybe later. Right now he was exhausted, and wanted nothing more then to go to sleep and maybe dream of Justin. Going back into the bedroom, he changed out of his clothes and climbed into bed. He didn't pay any attention to the fact that once again his trash can was clean and that there were washcloths on the bedside table. Within minutes, he was asleep.

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As soon as his shift was over, Justin rushed over to Brian's. He figured that Brian would be asleep already, and wasn't surprised to find that he was right when he walked in the door. Quietly, he checked on Brian and found that he hadn't been sick more then a couple of times from the trash can. He was upset though to not find an empty water bottle by the bed and knew that Brian could get dehydrated if he wasn't careful. It was after he had cleaned out the trash can and was going to get fresh washrags that he noticed the mess in the bathroom.

Shutting the door so as to not wake Brian, Justin began to clean up the mess. He carried the broken glass out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where he threw it away. Opening the fridge, he pulled out not one but two bottles of water, and took them with the now lukewarm soup and a spoon into the bedroom. Setting them down on the bedside table he looked down at Brian and resisted the urge to touch him. He knew that he couldn't take the chance that he had the night before. With a sigh, Justin turned, gathered his things, and as quietly as he had come, left.

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Brian woke up an hour later, very thirsty. Sitting up, he was about to get out of bed when he saw the soup and water sitting on his bedside table. He didn't remember setting them there. He had planned to, but he didn't think he had done it. Shaking his head, he decided he wasn't going to question it. Opening one of the bottles, he quickly downed the entire thing. Setting it down with a sigh, he got up to warm up the soup. While he waited for the microwave to ring, he went into the bathroom. He knew he was going to have to be careful where he stepped, as he hadn't cleaned up the mess he had made earlier yet.

Brian stopped in the doorway in surprise. He knew he hadn't cleaned up the mess, yet it had been done. Shaking his head, he tried to figure out what was going on as he went to the bathroom. Washing his hands, he looked at the mess that was still on the wall and knew his moment of anger was going to cost him a few days without a mirror. The bell on the microwave went off and Brian went and got his soup. Taking the soup into the bedroom, Brian climbed back into the bed and quietly ate it as he contemplated what was going on. Placing what was left of the soup on the bedside table, he laid back down and with the decision made to talk to Mikey, he fell back to sleep.

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Justin opened the door to the loft and carried the dry cleaning in and put it away. He checked the fridge to see if anything more was needed. He wasn't worried about straightening up the loft today because the cleaning lady was due before long. Looking around, he sighed as he again left, locking the loft up behind him.

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Brian walked into the comic book store and smiled when Michael came running around the counter to hug him. "What's that for?"

Michael looked up at Brian. "I just felt like it. I hadn't seen you in a couple of days."

Brian looked at Michael. "I just wanted to say thanks for dropping the soup off yesterday and then for checking on me later and cleaning up the mess I made in the bathroom."

Michael looked confused. "I didn't drop anything off yesterday. I haven't been by the loft for a couple of days. You told me not to come, remember? You even threatened me with my life if I so much as called for the rest of the week."

Brian nodded, trying to cover his confusion. "Right and you're doing good too. The last thing I need when I get home after my treatments is me getting sick and hearing your voice over the answering machine wanting to know how I am."

Michael studied Brian carefully. "How are they going? Are you doing okay, need anything?"

Brian shook his head no. "I'm doing okay. Once these treatments are over, I'll be back to my old self again."

Michael smiled. "That's good to know. Regardless of what you tell me, you know it doesn't keep me from worrying and I'm not the only one. Have you talked to Justin?"

Brian looked down and didn't say anything.

Michael sighed. "You know you shouldn't have kicked him out like that. It's not like he found out on purpose, and you were going to have to tell him sometime."

Brian turned away from Michael. "Stay out of it Mikey."

Michael put his hand on Brian's shoulder and tried to turn him back to face him, but only succeeded in stopping him from leaving. "Did you really think you were going to be able to hide this from him the whole time? How were you going to explain about being sick? You would have had to eventually tell him. Thank about it Brian. You really need to make up with him. He…he loves you."

Brian turned and kissed Michael again. "I've got to get back to the office. Lots of work to get done. Later Mikey."

Michael watched Brian walk away and shook his head. He hoped Brian would think about what he said and talk to Justin.

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Brian sat at his desk without looking at the work on it waiting for his approval. He was thinking about his conversation with Michael. If Michael wasn't doing these things, that left only one person. The person who he had treated like shit when he found out that he was sick. Justin.

Brian continued to think about Justin, and what he had been doing for him, for the rest of the day. He thought about him at work, in the cabs, at his treatment, and then on the way back up to the loft. As he opened the door, he noticed another container of hot soup. Gingerly bending down to pick it up, he smelled vegetable soup this time and felt his stomach clench. Carefully he walked inside and set the container down before rushing to the bathroom. Once he was done, he carefully walked back into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and shook his head. It was Justin. But what do you say to someone you don't see. Taking a spoon, the soup, and his water into the bedroom, he began to undress. He noticed the clothes hanging in the closet and the fresh washcloths on the bedside table. Climbing into bed, he fell asleep thinking about all that Justin was doing for him. Taking care of him, loving him even while he was making himself scarce, all because of his foolish pride, and stubborn sense of what he now saw as him being no longer perfect, no longer whole.

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Justin walked into the loft a couple of hours later and began to go through his routine. As he was placing fresh water by the bed, he felt a hand wrap around his arm and looked at Brian in surprise.

Brian looked up at Justin and smiled weakly. "I figured it was you."

Justin smiled back. "How?"

Brian patted the bed on what was known by both of them as Justin's side. Justin looked carefully at him before pulling off his clothes and climbing into bed with Brian. "How did you know it was me?"

Brian sighed and looked into Justin's eyes. "Well, it could only have been one of two people. You or Mikey, and Mikey just isn't the quietest of people. So that left you."

Justin shrugged and moved closer to Brian while he continued to study Brian's face. "You're not mad?"

Brian shook his head no and placed an arm on Justin's waist, but didn't pull him any closer. "No, I'm not mad. I was a stupid asshole and thought I could do this alone without anyone finding out. I now know that that would have been impossible, and despite how I treated you, you continued to care and love me anyway."

Justin studied Brian carefully. "You know, it's not the end of the world. So what if you have cancer. So what if you no longer think you're perfect. You're still the man I love. When will you get it through your thick stubborn skull that I love you and that together we can make it through this, you and I together!"

Brian pulled Justin into his arms. "You're right, but if you ever repeat it…"

Justin laughed and kissed it. "Don't worry. I won't. Just don't push me away again."

Brian kissed Justin gently then lay back down, drawing Justin tightly against him. "I won't."

As they began to drift off to sleep, Brian and Justin both thought about the past few days and what they had gone through. Justin knew that now they just might make it. And Brian, Brian knew he was going to make it, because he had the one person he needed to make it with.

The End

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