What the FUCK is this?

Justin's POV:

What the fuck is this? What's happening? I don't know what's happened. The doctors have tried to explain it, it doesn't make any sense.

The nurses have tried to get me to go home and sleep for a while but I wont leave. Even the nursing assistants have gotten used to making his bed with me sitting here with my head resting on the edge of it. I wont leave him. I can't leave him.

Daphne's been here and gone. So has Debbie, my Mom and the rest of the family. Michael gave me dirty looks, like that would make me leave and he could take my place. No fucking way. This is my place All here, gone and then back again.

Someone brings me food to eat but I can't eat, not until he does. Can't eat. Broth, I've had a little broth and some tea. I can't stomach coffee right now but tea seems to be okay. One of the nurses brought me some jell-O, forced me to eat it, threatened me with bodily harm if I didn't, she's worse than Debbie, so I ate it.

Damn, I must have drifted off. The pinging of the machines, the steady rise and fall of the ventilator must have lulled me to sleep. He seems to be okay. The doctors said they have to keep him sedated for a while longer so that his body will heal. How much more cutting and healing does he have go through? He survived the cancer and now what the fuck is this?

Thank god I came back to the loft that night.

He left Babylon early that night. Said he had a stomach ache. Stomach ache! Some stomach ache. I stayed for a couple more hours, dancing away like an innocent fool. I should have gone home with him but he insisted, didn't want to ruin my fun because of food poisoning or a tummy ache. History repeating itself. So I stayed, danced my fucking toes off then went back to the loft.

I expected to see him laying in bed, naked waiting for me. Bitching, moaning and groaning, complaining about why it took me so long to get home. I expected to be fucked six ways till Sunday. Now, I'd be ecstatic if he'd only open his eyes.

His eyes, his beautiful eyes. Those eyes that make me weak, that speak to me, tells me everything I need to hear without a word. They're closed, glued shut in his unnatural sleep. "Please wake up Brian, please." They were glazed over when I found him. Not glazed in that lust filled way, glazed, almost like death. They said if I didn't get there when I did. "Oh god!"

He was in bed, with his clothes still on. I knew something was wrong the minute I saw his clothes. He laid down even with his boots still on. On his precious duvet. He was cold and pale. Even in the dark, all the tan seemed to have evaporated leaving this pasty white look. Cold, so cold. And he wouldn't wake up. I called for an ambulance. Then I called Emmett, I don't remember anything after that.

Can't cry now, have to be strong for him. The cancer was nothing compared to this. What the fuck is this?

Ben and Daphne spoke with the doctors and are doing the research for me. I gave them the key to the loft so they can use his computer. It's quiet there and no one will disturb them. Not even Mikey and his whining.

Daphne thinks she heard a little about this syndrome, so she's been re-reading some of her text books. Ben's doing searches online. They promised to give me the condensed version as soon as they figure it out.

What I did learn is that it's a freak occurrence for him, but it can be passed on so Lindsey is having Gus checked out. So far it looks like Gus is okay. A freak occurrence, a spontaneous mutation they call it. Huh. I always knew Brian was a freak but I didn't mean this.

He doesn't have what the doctors call the classical signs. Wont Brian be disappointed, he's not a classic. Fuck, bad joke. And he can't laugh. "Please god, let him wake up. I'd take another hit in the head if he'd only wake up."

He has some of the signs, they said, but so subtle that no one picked up on it. They said he's lucky, it could be worse. Worse? What's worse than an artery bursting, dissected they said. Dissected!? What is he, a lab rat? They said the major artery in his abdomen dissected, that's what he was feeling. It was good he went home when he did, would have been worse if he stayed at Babylon. Can't cry, not now. Have to keep a clear head, for him. Have to be strong, have to.

"Justin, sweetie, go shower. I'll stay with him."

"Hmm, oh, hi Em."

"Hey baby. Go on, I'll keep watch. You shower, you'll feel better."

"No, I can't leave him. Got no clothes, anyway."

"I brought some. I saw Daphne and the professor at the loft. Daphne gave me your clothes. She's the best little fag hag next to Debbie, of course. She knew what to pick out. Now, the shower is right in here. I promise I wont take my eyes off him."

"You promise."

"I swear baby. Now go. You don't want to be all icky and stinky when he wakes up, do you."

"You're right."

"I'm always right. It'll be okay Justin. He's strong. He'll be back to his old snarky, asshole self in no time. You'll see."

"Okay. Call me if anything happens."

"I will."

The water feels good. Emmett's right. I'll feel better when I'm clean. Will we be able to shower again together. Will we be able to make love again. Will he? No, he will wake up. He has to wake up. Has to. Clean. He hates the smell of hospitals, so do I. I thought I'd never get that smell out of my nose. I need to smell him, not the hospital. Not the antiseptic. Need to smell him. His hair, his spicy cologne, his musk when I suck his cock or eat his ass. His scent, not the hospital, not the scent of ...

No, I will not do this again. He will get better. And he'll yell and grumble and tell me to leave but I wont leave. Never.

"Any changes?"

"No, sweetie. Sleeping beauty is awaiting his princess to awaken him with a kiss."

"Thanks Emmett. I feel much better. You can go."

"I'll stay for a while. Why don't you try to sleep. You know how cranky he gets when he thinks you over do. Those bags under your eyes don't go with your pretty blue eyes."

"Can't sleep."

"Yes you can. I got them to bring you a cot. An hour, Justin. Just an hour. I'll stay put, then wake you."

"Okay, but just for an hour. He needs me."

"I know he does. Think of how much more use to him you'll be when you've rested."

"Okay. Thanks. You'll wake me if anything changes?"

"I promise, baby."

Poor kid. Daphne and the professor did their little research. This thing is called Marfan's Syndrome and no, Brian doesn't have all the classic signs. Oh, he's tall but so am I. And he does have big feet, those long graceful toes and those long sexy fingers of his. They mentioned something about his chest. I've never noticed but it does sink in just a tiny bit. But that's it, no other signs. And his father certainly didn't have it. A spontaneous mutation, that's what this is. And Gus is okay. I'll tell Justin after he sleeps for a while. Poor sweet kid. Poor Brian. What else can life throw in their direction.

"Justin."

"Brian?"

" No, baby, it's Em."

" Is he okay?"

"Yes, honey, he's fine. The doctor just left. They're easing off the sedation so he'll be coming around soon."

"How long was I asleep?"

"About four hours."

"Four hours!"

"Now don't get your whitie tighties in a bunch. You needed to sleep. It was that or I was going to get the nurse to spike your tea. Don't you give me that Kinney glare. You don't do it as well as he does. I'm going to leave and I'll update the family."

"Okay. Thank you Emmett."

"Hey, that's what a good fairy godmother is for. I'll be back later."

"Later, Emmett."

"Bye, sweetie."

He's awake! Well, sort of. He's still on the ventilator but they're going to take him off it soon. And he's pumped up with a lot of drugs but not the ones he likes. Medicine for the pain. Medicine to keep his blood pressure as low as it can be without killing him and medicine to thin out his blood. Shit. So many tubes. I've never seen so many tubes stuck in a person in all my life. And the incision. Oh I can just hear it now. The scar. Oh my god! I will never hear the end of it now. The scar. Bitch, bitch, bitch. Not perfect anymore. I love him and his scar. I'll tell him every day, every hour and I don't care if he never says it back. It doesn't matter, he's going to be alright.

Alright! More tests. CAT scans, echocardiograms, EKGs, blood tests. They started to remove some of the tubes and he's breathing all on his own. But he can't talk just yet. And he's still kind of out of it. But that's okay cause he's going to be fine.

I kissed him and he woke up. My prince woke up and looked at me. Looked into my eyes. His eyes smiled at me. He's in there, my Brian is in there and he loves me. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes. We'll be okay now. We can do this. I can do this.

When he's better and gets the all clear I'm going to make love to him every night and every day, for the rest of our lives. Because whatever the fuck is this, we're going to beat it together.

http://www.marfan.org/nmf/index.jsp

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