Eternal Triangle

A Dream Come True

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March 28, 2007-Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

"Shit!" Mark jolted awake, sitting straight up in bed, his heart racing in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his bloodstream. He gazed around his bedroom, momentarily disoriented, then the memory of his dream crashed through his consciousness.

"Fuck it all!" he mumbled as he scrambled out of bed and rushed to his closet. He blindly grabbed the first thing that his fingers touched and hurriedly dressed. After sliding his feet into a pair of loafers, he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out into the living room.

Mark came to an abrupt stop as he passed his couch. He'd forgotten all about his sleeping guest. Crouching down, Mark gently shook the man's shoulder. "Hey, wake up, we need to go."

Brooke slowly opened his eyes and blinked up at the unfamiliar face that was peering down at him. It had been literally decades since he'd woken up with a stranger and, when he looked down at himself, he idly thought that he'd never woken up fully dressed on their sofa. "Umm, hi," he tentatively said as he pushed off the afghan that was covering him and sat up.

Mark grinned wryly at Brooke as he said, "You fell asleep while we were talking last night."

Brooke's lips twitched, the corners turning up in a faint smile. "Marilyn," he stated matter-of-factly and nodded. The man bore a vague resemblance to Marilyn. His curly red hair was closely cropped to his head, and he was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a faded Pittsburgh Steelers sweatshirt.

"Mark, actually." Mark stood up and walked toward the door. "We need to go and find Justin and Brian. I received a message while I was sleeping; they're in danger."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Brooke hurried to his feet, cursing his aching muscles. He was too bloody old to be sleeping on a sofa, however comfortable it might be. "What time is it, anyway?" he asked as Mark locked up his apartment and started down the stairs.

"About five thirty," Mark answered. He held the front door of his building open for Brooke then walked over to his car. "The powers-that-be aren't too worried about me getting sleep when they have a warning for me." He unlocked the doors and slid into the driver's seat, praying silently that his old clunker would start. Smiling triumphantly when the engine caught on only the third attempt, he began driving toward the loft.

Brooke looked curiously at Mark. "Where are we going?"

"Kinney's place. It's where the danger is." Mark glanced at Brooke and shrugged. "At least, I think so."

"You think so?" Brooke asked incredulously. "You mean you don't know for sure?" He shifted in his seat, uneasy with the idea of rushing off to Brian's home this early in the morning based only on a hunch.

Mark shrugged again. "Hey, the dreams don't exactly tell me to go to such and such address, you know. They're normally more vague than that."

Brooke frowned as he considered Mark's comment. "Then how do you know what this one means?" he asked. He'd never before put much faith in psychics and their so-called powers, but Mark, or rather Marilyn, had been very persuasive last night. They'd spent hours going over everything, each sharing their individual bits of the puzzle and trying to fit the pieces into one cohesive whole. Marilyn had explained about the conversation she'd had with Debbie regarding Michael and his obsession with Brian, and they'd both been concerned about the fact that both Justin and Brian seemed to be missing.

Mark flashed him a grin. "Years of experience." He turned the car onto Tremont as he continued. "Besides, I got lucky this time. I recognized Kinney's loft in the dream." He chuckled at Brooke's doubtful expression. "I was there for a party, not as a personal guest of Brian's. I'm not exactly his type, you know."

Brooke remained quiet as Mark found a parking spot near Brian's apartment building. He sincerely hoped Mark was wrong, that Brian and Justin weren't actually in danger. Frankly, he wasn't sure what he and Mark would be able to do if they were. Maybe they should call the police, but he wasn't sure how they would explain it to them if they did. He could just hear that conversation now.

"Well, you see, officer, my friend here had this dream that foretold danger for our other friends…"

"No, really, officer. We're not crazy…"

Brooke chuckled softly at his thoughts as he followed Mark down the sidewalk.

They both paused at the base of the stairs leading to the front door. "And here we go," Mark muttered quietly as he headed up the steps. Brooke took a deep breath and followed. They exchanged a troubled look when they found the building's front door propped open and resolutely stepped inside.

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"Mikey? What the fuck?" Brian asked, dumbfounded, as he stared at the gun in his friend's hand. He shifted Justin's weight in his arms, trying to get a better grip on him.

Michael waved the gun slightly as he said, "I told you, put Justin down."

Brian shook his head. "No fucking way, Mikey. He needs to get to the hospital." He narrowed his eyes at Michael as he realized something and growled, "You did this to him, didn't you?"

"I didn't hurt him, Brian," Michael said. "He tripped and hit his head. I swear."

Brian studied Michael, trying to gauge his actions. "You might not have hit him, Michael, but you did hurt him. You were the one who fucking locked him in here where he couldn't get any help."

Michael shrugged one shoulder. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter. Not anymore." He gestured toward the pipe and the set of handcuffs that was still attached to it. "Lock him up again, Brian."

"Fuck off, Mikey." Brian glanced down at Justin's face. He was ashen and his skin was clammy looking. He needed medical help, and soon. Brian looked back at Michael and softly warned, "Mikey, look, I've already called the police. They'll be here any time now. You need to give up this crazy scheme of yours."

"We won't be here for them to find." Michael's voice sounded eerily calm to Brian, sending chills down Brian's spine. Michael took a step forward and leveled the pistol at Justin's head. "Your choice, Brian. He can be dead when the cops get here or he can be alive and have a chance."

Brian wavered, undecided. Justin would certainly be safer if he could get Michael away from him, but he didn't want to leave his lover by himself in this condition. Maybe, if he and Michael were alone, he could somehow wrestle the gun away from him. Finally, Brian nodded grimly and laid Justin down on the floor, then shrugged off his jacket and slid it under Justin's head for a cushion. "You win, Michael," Brian said in a cool voice as he loosely reattached the handcuff to Justin's wrist and moved the water bottle closer to Justin's free hand. He slowly stood up and turned to face his friend.

"Great!" Michael grinned at Brian, seeming completely unconcerned with what he was doing. He moved backward out into the landing and motioned with the gun. "Come on, we're leaving now."

Brian edged past Michael and gave a final, worried look back at Justin before starting down the stairs. Michael trailed closely behind him, his free hand on the small of Brian's back.

"You won't regret this, Brian," Michael stated quietly. He ran his hand up and down Brian's back, enjoying the sensation of the rippling muscles beneath his palm. "I'll make it good for you, for us. I promise."

Brian jerked away from the caress, feeling repulsed by Michael's touch. He halted and twisted his head to stare back at Michael. "Don't touch me," he snarled. "Don't ever fucking touch me again."

"But Brian…" Michael began as Brian turned and walked away from him.

"Just shut the fuck up, Michael."

As they reached the last landing and rounded the corner to walk down to the ground floor, they came face to face with Brooke and Mark.

"Whoa," Mark exclaimed. "We were just coming up…" His eyes widened when he spotted the gun in Michael's hand. "Ah, fuck!" He jumped back down a step, and ran into Brooke.

Brooke caught hold of the railing to prevent himself from falling and tried to peer around Mark's shoulder. "What?" he asked then he gasped when he saw the gun pointed at Brian.

Michael's gaze shifted from Brian to Mark and Brooke, his face looking confused. The hand holding the pistol lowered for just a second, giving Brian the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Brian launched himself at Michael, his hand wrapping around Michael's wrist to force the gun down.

Michael stumbled backward and his hand jerked from the force of Brian's attack.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and Brian's vision first went white, then dark.

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June 28, 2007-Tremont estate-outside London, England

Justin crouched down next to the monument and brushed the dirt and grass away from the white marble before trailing his fingertips across the carved initials. "BK-JT, rest in peace," he murmured quietly before looking over at his companion. "It's so strange to be here now, with everything that's gone on during the past year."

Brooke nodded sympathetically at him. "You've been through a lot."

Sadness flashed over Justin's face for a second before he inhaled sharply and nodded. "Yeah." He swiped his hands down the front of his jeans and rose to his feet. Justin walked over and sat down on the blanket next to Brooke, asking, "Do you think Blaise and Jerome are finally together, and happy?"

Brooke snorted with amusement as he handed Justin his sketchpad and pencil. "I'm not the one who's 'in touch' with the spiritual world, as Marilyn would say. You'd better ask her, it's more her specialty."

Justin grinned and gave Brooke a sideways glance. "You two have certainly become friends lately." He leaned over and gently bumped Brooke with his shoulder. "So, what's up?"

Looking down his nose at Justin, Brooke said primly, "First of all, a gentleman never kisses and tells." He then smiled ruefully and continued, "Besides, we're just friends. I'm too bloody old for anything else."

Justin tilted his head to one side and ran his pencil eraser lightly along his lower lip as he studied his friend. "I don't know. I think you're kinda hot for an old geezer," he teased.

"Hrmph," Brooke answered. "Show some respect for your elders."

"Whatever you say, Brooke." Justin peered down at his sketchbook and added a few finishing touches to his drawing. Once he was satisfied with the sketch, he closed the pad and slipped it into his backpack. Justin then lay back, propping himself up on his elbows and lifting his face up to catch the last rays of sunlight. "It certainly is peaceful here. I'm glad we came."

"Indeed." Brooke checked his watch before getting to his feet. "It's time we head back to the main house, Justin. We don't want to miss our ride."

"Do you think there's enough time to go back to the cottage?" Justin sighed before standing up. He grabbed the blanket off the ground and shook it out before folding it into a neat square. "Just for a moment," he added as he picked up his backpack.

Brooke nodded and walked toward the edge of the clearing, where an overgrown trail was barely discernable. Both he and Justin were quiet as they walked along the path as it wound its way through the forest. It was getting darker, and Brooke shivered when he recalled the last occasion he'd been on this particular path. Fortunately, he didn't sense the angry entity anywhere around him this time.

As they entered the front yard of the cottage, a warm breeze began wafting around them. Justin laughed as his bangs lifted from his forehead, feeling as though gentle fingers were tangling themselves in the strands.

Justin turned to look at Brooke with a broad grin. "They are together, Brooke, I can feel it."

Brooke smiled, pleased to see the happy expression on Justin's face. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, allowing the tranquility of his surroundings to flow through him. Opening his eyes, he nodded and said, "Yes, you're right, Justin. They're content, at long last."

Justin hitched his backpack higher onto his shoulder. "I'm ready," he announced. He began walking toward the manor house then paused, turning to allow his eyes to sweep across the ramshackle cottage and overgrown yard one final time. With a faint smile, he turned again and walked away.

Ten minutes later, Brooke and Justin were stepping into the small, formal garden located at the side of the house, their footsteps crunching loudly on the gravel pathway. Marilyn was seated on an ornately carved bench and she looked up when she heard them approach.

"Thank heavens you're back," she exclaimed as she picked up her bookmark from the bench beside her and placed it in her book, marking her place. She stood and stretched before walking over and hugging both Justin and Brooke. "I hope you had a better afternoon than I did."

"Rough time, huh?" Justin asked as he gazed around the garden.

Marilyn snorted and shook her head. "He's been… his usual charming self."

"Oh." Justin grinned over at her as he asked, "That good, hmm?"

"Hey, I'm always good," a quiet voice stated from behind them. Brian rolled his wheelchair around the edge of the fountain and stopped, reaching over to apply the brake.

Justin hurried over to Brian. He leaned down, being careful of the metal framework surrounding Brian's left leg, and kissed Brian on the forehead. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

"Tired. Bored." Brian crossed his arms over his chest and thrust his chin out in Marilyn's direction. "And she kept telling me all afternoon that I couldn't come after you." He glared up at Justin, who merely smiled at the near-pout on Brian's face and carefully sat down on Brian's good leg.

"Poor baby," Justin teased as he stroked Brian's cheek. "You would never have gotten your chair over the rough terrain. You were better off staying here." He leaned over and kissed Brian gently on the mouth. "You ready to head back to the hotel?"

Brian nodded and wrapped one arm around Justin's waist, hugging him close. "Thank God we're leaving here tomorrow. I can't wait to get this fucking contraption off me."

Justin laid his head on Brian's shoulder. "I know you're anxious to get home, but I'm going to kinda miss this place." He placed his hand on top of Brian's where it rested at his waist, and said, "You wouldn't believe just how cool the monument was." Justin paused for a second before whispering in an awed tone, "And the cottage. Fuck, Brian. It was like Blaise and Jerome were all around me, showing me how happy they were now that things are better between us."

Brian pushed Justin's hair out of his eyes with his free hand then tugged on his head until their foreheads met. "I'm glad you had a good time today, Sunshine," he said softly so only Justin could hear his words. "You needed something to cheer you up after all of Mikey's bullshit."

Justin pulled back a little so he could look at Brian. "You've had more to deal with than I have." He gestured vaguely at Brian's leg before saying, "You've been stuck in that thing for three months now, and you have months of physical therapy to look forward to when we get back to Pittsburgh. Plus, your best friend has been indefinitely locked up in the nut house."

Shrugging, Brian murmured, "At least we're both alive, and together." He stared off into the distance as he thought about Michael and the events that had taken place over the past three months.

The cops and the ambulance had shown up just minutes after Brian's left femur had been shattered by Michael's bullet. Brian had been drifting in and out of consciousness, and he kept muttering Justin's name under his breath.

The police arrested Michael, who was kneeling on the floor at Brian's side, wringing his hands together and moaning as Brooke frantically tried to stop the bleeding. Michael had been pulled away so the paramedics could get to Brian and work on his injury.

Brian had come to as he was being strapped to the gurney. He'd managed to let the paramedics know about Justin and where he was before Brian had lost consciousness again.

The next time Brian had woken up, he was in the hospital, his leg enclosed in metal. He turned his head and saw a pair of intense blue eyes staring at him from the other bed. He'd grinned over at Justin before drifting off again.

Justin had been lucky. His fever had broken quickly, and after several days of being treated for dehydration and concussion, the doctors had released him from their care. He'd stayed in the room with Brian, however, refusing to leave the hospital until Brian was discharged two weeks later.

The gang's reaction to the situation had been mixed.

Emmett, Lindsay and Ted had all been supportive of Brian. They'd seen for themselves just how unbalanced Michael had become, and had sympathized with the way Brian had tried to handle him.

Lindsay brought groceries over to the loft and cooked huge meals for Justin and Brian. Gus came with her, and he'd entertained everyone with his antics. Ted and Emmett would simply show up and hang out with Brian and Justin. They rented movies and popped popcorn while sharing the latest gossip about all the hot new guys at Woody's and Babylon.

Mel, of course, had tried to twist everything in her mind until it was Brian's fault; she'd even volunteered to be Michael's lawyer for his trial. He'd been facing a myriad of charges, ranging from illegal possession of a firearm to kidnapping and attempted manslaughter.

Debbie, however, had been the worst. One minute she was railing at Brian, blaming him for Michael's condition; the next minute, she would be crying and thanking him for trying to help Michael. It had gotten to the point where Justin almost refused to let her into the loft.

After Brian had been home for two months, he'd had Justin take him to see Michael. Justin had pushed the wheelchair into the lobby of the institution, then went back outside while Brian went upstairs to visit with Michael.

Michael ultimately had been judged to be incompetent to stand trial. The state had placed him in a mental hospital located in the outskirts of Pittsburgh.

Brian had rolled into the third floor dayroom, where he found Michael sitting quietly near one of the large windows that faced out onto the grounds of the hospital. He'd wheeled over to the window and stopped, briefly studying Michael before softly saying, "Hi, Mikey."

Michael turned his head and calmly smiled at Brian. "Hi yourself." There was a moment of silence before he added, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Brian glanced down at his leg as he admitted, "You almost didn't." Looking up, he met Michael's gaze steadily. "You really fucked up, Mikey."

Michael nodded in acknowledgement before turning to look back out of the window. "How's Justin doing?" he asked quietly.

"Do you care?" Brian said before he could stop himself. At Michael's flinch, he sighed and apologized, "I'm sorry, Mikey. Justin's doing well, but I refuse to talk about him with you."

"I can understand that." Michael leaned forward and pointed out the window at a huge oak tree in the middle of the grassy lawn. "See that tree over there. They sometimes let me go out and sit underneath it. It helps, you know."

Brian asked curiously, "Helps with what?"

Michael shrugged as he answered, "It helps me feel better about myself. I just sit there and think about things, about how I would do things differently now." He gazed at Brian with a sad look in his eyes. "About how I would now accept that you just want to be friends. Are we still friends, Brian?"

Brian paused before answering honestly, "I really don't know right now, Mikey. Truthfully…" He rolled his lips inward for a moment then continued, "I don't think so. Maybe with time, but…"

Smiling faintly, Michael said, "Thank you for not lying to me, Brian." He stood up and held out his hand. "I'm going to go now. Take care of yourself, Brian."

Brian took Michael's hand then pulled him down into a hug. "You take care of yourself too, Mikey," he whispered before releasing Michael. He watched as Michael walked out of the dayroom, ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes. "Goodbye, Mikey," he said quietly to himself.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Justin's soft voice pulled Brian's thought back into the present.

Brian looked over at Justin with a small shrug. "Nowhere important."

Justin searched Brian's eyes for a second and then, satisfied with what he saw there, leaned over and gave him a tender kiss. "I love you, you know."

Brian touched Justin softly on the cheek as he said, "I love you too." He glanced at Brooke and Marilyn before turning back to Justin. "Let's go home."

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