A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful comments- all are so helpful! Brian and Justin return from the clinic to find that they don't have the time to worry. BTW: Linds is in this chap—and she's still somewhat hard to take, I'm afraid, but so it goes…! I have no beta, so again, my apologies for any mistakes! PS: I've really struggled with some of this (the writing/story/worrying if the guys are getting "OOC" etc.)-- constructive feedback is very much appreciated! ---- We get back from the clinic within two hours. I'm a mess. Brian's silent. He throws the keys onto the kitchen island, takes me by the fingers of my casted arm and leads me up to the bedroom. He strips down, climbs under the covers and looks at me. I stand at the foot of the bed staring. Almost unconsciously, I start scratching at my palm while aching panic stews in my gut. I'll hear the results in one week. One week. I may have HIV. Hepatitis. Any number of venereal diseases. Just about anything. "Shut up." Huh? "I didn't say anything...!" I stammer. "Not aloud maybe. But you're thinking too much. Come here." *I'm* thinking too much?? What's Brian been doing for two days straight? I sigh. He knows I could say the same to him- for different reasons, perhaps, but we're both seemingly possessed. I falter on my way towards the bed- fuckfuckfuck, I wish my brain was like it used to be just 3 months ago! "Shut. Up," he repeats. I'm still 'thinking too much', obviously. I fall into bed next to him, flipping off my shoes and pulling off my tee. I'm about to take off my sweats when there's a loud knock. "Ignore it," Brian says quietly, reaching to help me slip out of my sloppy sweats; I'm about ignore the knock as requested, get completely naked and lie next to my lover to snuggle (in my brain, I hear Brian's distinctive, derisive snort at that term- but until my test results come back, that's all we can do. I don't want to put him at any unnecessary risk by doing more)- then Lindsay's voice pierces the heavy front door accompanied by even more insistent banging. I try to suppress an audible groan and note Brian does the same. "Brian!! Brian, open up!!" Then we hear Gus whimpering and Brian is up like a shot, pulling on some loose-ish boxers (hell, I'm in no mood to think anything but doom, gloom and all things shitty, but fuck-all if my body still automatically responds to his natural, confident grace). He deftly snaps the elastic waistband against his taut belly and strides hurriedly to open the front door. Lindsay pushes past him, looking harried and upset. Gus is crying and immediately reaches both arms for his father to take him. "Brian, please- can you take Gus for the night? It's last minute, I'm sorry—but he won't stop asking for you and Mel called from a layover in La Guardia-- she's on her way to PITTSBURGH! She just called an hour ago to tell me! I can't believe how cavalier she's being! Leaving us to go to Canada- and suddenly she's back four months later, practically showing up unannounced at my door!" "Lindsay," Brian says calmly, "Breathe. Slow down. She must want to see how you and Gus are doing after the other night. She has every right to see her son--" "Ha!" Lindsay scoffs. "'Our' son?? Gus is OUR son!" She wags her index finger between Brian and herself. Um... whoa. "I can't believe her! She ups and leaves, taking 'her baby' as she calls JR, and she expects to be welcomed back at the drop of a hat?" I don't know what the fuck has happened between Lindsay and her wife, but from what I glean, it's been ugly. "Linds! It's her son!" Brian admonishes. "Brian, she doesn't see Gus as hers- she sees him as OURS- yours and mine!" [Gee, I wonder why...] "Mel throws that in my face all the time- she screams at Gus for having you as a FATHER!" Holy shit... "She's a jealous witch! You know that when Gus does anything she doesn't like, she calls him worthless just like his FATHER?? She's awful, Brian! It was hard at first after she left, but I was quick to realize how miserable things had gotten- for me, for Gus, for her-- even 6 month old JR was sad all the time!" Brian's face is frozen as he digests what Lindsay's so blithely revealing: Melanie screams at Gus merely because Brian's his father. "Jesus, no…" he whispers almost silently to himself. God. He sounds literally heart-broken…! My impulse is to rush to him and hold him, but I just bite my lip and blink away the film of tears starting to form in my eyes. Then he quickly snaps out of his unhappy reverie. "Lindsay!" he barks harshly. But she's on a tear, oblivious to anything but her own drama. "…And Mel's not coming to see how Gussy and I are!" Brian scowls and finally takes his wriggling son from Lindsay's arms; she hardly notices. As soon as the toddler is wrapped snugly in Brian's embrace, he calms down and happily runs his pudgy hand across his Daddy's bare collar bone then traces his stubby finger down the hard cast. "She's not!" Lindsay emphasizes. "I didn't tell her!!" I gasp and Brian actually snarls. "What?" he bites out. But Lindsay has heard my gasp and turns to see me standing at the top of the bedroom steps. "YOU!" she hisses viciously, narrowing her eyes. "YOU! What are you still DOING HERE?" At the risk of sounding like the teen-ager I am, I want to snap at her to take a fucking CHILL PILL. She's talked with Brian since this all went down- those phone conversations were the only times in the past two days Brian's strung together more than three sentences. It was always all about Gus. I wasn't mentioned- at least not on Brian's end, but there were a few silences that were more like Brian getting his temper under control than him listening to a rundown about Gus' moods. I chose to pretend it was nothing. Or at least, none of my business. Which was true. 'Til now. "Lindsay, Justin's staying here for awhile- lay the hell OFF. I swear to God, since this all happened a few days ago, you've completely unhinged; it's like I don't know you! The fuck?!" He pauses, taking a deep breath to calm himself for Gus' sake. "Linds, why didn't you tell Mel what's going on?" he finally asks. But Lindsay's focus is completely centered on me now. "You!" she hisses once more, seething, not hearing Brian at all. "You-- you-- you kidnapping delinquent!" She stalks over to me, pointing an accusing finger at eye level. I back away unsteadily as she nears, genuinely afraid she's going to slug me. "LINDSAY!" Brian growls, Gus or no Gus. "STOP IT! Stop it! I mean it! Don't you DARE attack Justin! You're blaming him for something he had NO CONTROL OVER! JUSTIN ESSENTIALLY RESCUED YOUR SON! Jesus Christ! "You're fucking strung out, Lindsay- go home! Sonny Boy is fine with me for a few days if necessary- longer if you need it! Go rest and then deal with Mel-- whatever the hell's going on between you two, I don't want it going on in front of my son! And I do not want him around her if she's going off on him because I'm his father!" Fuck, damned straight! I don't know much, but I already know that Brian's done a million things putting Gus before himself- and that has included putting both Lindsay and Melanie's happiness before his own. Luckily, underneath it all, Lindsay knows this. "GO!" Brian commands. "And," he adds in a quiet but ominous tone, "if you ever trash Justin again, I want you to understand this because I mean every fucking word: I WILL NOT TOLERATE IT ONE GODDAMNED SECOND." Guh... I don't know what he means, exactly. What would he do? Whatever it is, were his words being directed at *me*, I wouldn't want to find out. Deep down, I'm strangely thrilled at how protective he's being of me; I don't need it, but it's damned reassuring. Lindsay is still grimacing at me but she hears Brian this time. I'm not sure whether it's his deadly serious tone, his vague but meaningful threat, or his language (I don't think he EVER swears like that in front of Gus- unless it's critically important. Like now), but she shakes her head and looks at Brian holding her child. "Fine," she finally sighs, defeated. "I suppose I do need to pull myself together," she adds in a whisper. "But," she wags her finger at Brian menacingly, "do not for one second leave our child alone with this stranger!" "He's NOT a stranger!" Brian barks. "He is to me, Brian! Get rid of him! I don't have a clue what this is all about between you and this… this JUSTIN…, but he's BAD NEWS." I suck in a breath. She's right, in a way. But I'd never ever intentionally hurt Brian or his son. Never. And Brian knows this; that's all that matters to me. Fuck Lindsay. Brian chooses to completely ignore what she's saying. "Go," he urges quietly, holding his son's head to his lips, kissing the boy's ruffled, soft hair. I can see him inhaling Gus' scent: Baby shampoo, playdoh, soap, talcum... clean and simply Gus. I can faintly smell it from here, combined with the subtle, crisp, masculine scent of his father. Lindsay eyes Brian, then gives him a kiss. Then she leans down and kisses their boy. "I'll see you soon, Lambskin. You be good with Daddy, okay?" Gus nods, grinning. "Daddy!!" She smiles tiredly, all the fight and mania that was driving her raving episode seemingly gone. "Yep. Daddy." With that she walks slowly to the door and is about to close it behind her, when, "Brian?" she asks softly. He raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. This DOES have me unhinged. I can tell you care about this Justin—" [I'm always 'this' Justin. Hff.] "And I DON'T know him, you're right. It's just, he scares me. This all scares me. I can't lose Gus. I can't lose you. You two are all I have." Brian looks dumbfounded a split second and then he smirks. "We're not all you have, you aren't losing Gus, you would find Justin gaggingly adorable if you'd quit with the snap judgments, and:" he glances at me over Gus' head with a weary smile, *almost* apologetic, "Go. Home." She laughs softly. "Thanks," she mutters in an unsettlingly wistful tone as the door clicks shut. Guh! Phew. "Daddy!" Gus exclaims giddily once she's gone. "Candyland, Daddy!" Brian rolls his eyes, puts the kid on his own two feet and crouches down to talk to Gus eye to eye. "You know where the games are, Sonny Boy. Why don't you go get Candyland and some others? And we can see if Justin wants to play. You remember Justin, right?" I cringe inside. The poor boy only knows me as the staggering, crying freak taking him from that dark, dusty, rarely-used room at Andy's the other night. Gus nods shyly, peeking at me from under his lashes. "Justin helped us a lot the other night, didn't he?" Gus emphatically shakes his head 'no', surprising Brian. And admittedly, me. "Gus, he found you! He took you away from that scary place--" "--I t'ought so, too, Daddy.... I did!" Brian waits a beat. "...But...?" he prompts. "But Mommy says it's Dus' fault I got took!" Brian groans. "Mommy's wrong, Gus. Incredibly WRONG. Justin had no idea those mean men were after you. He didn't. But he helped us find you. Without Justin, we would never have known even where to START to look for you, Sonny Boy," Brian tells him gently, planting a small kiss on the child's temple. Gus automatically smiles at the kiss and is thoughtful a few moments, looking at his feet, holding himself up by leaning on his Daddy's naked shoulder. Then Gus looks up at me and I hold his gaze hopefully. "T'ank you, Dus..." he whispers. "T'anks a lot," he repeats with a toothy smile, his voice much more certain this time. Brian grins broadly, proudly. "Good boy, Gus. You're such a well-mannered little gentleman, ya goofball!" Gus giggles happily and runs off to get some games. I exhale a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Brian doesn't stand out of his crouch right away. He just smiles a little and finally looks up at me. "Sunshine," he says softly, "This has been one fucking kick-in-the-head day for you. Are you doing okay?" His voice is so overtly concerned, my stomach flip-flops a little. I beam at him, nodding. Despite ALL THIS: The kidnapping, killing a man, Lindsay's condemning me, scary blood tests, brain-damage, pancreatic issues, bone freezing concern for this unusual man I love, etc. etc.- right now, the answer is: "Better than okay!" I hop down the steps- and promptly fall on my face. I can't seem to remember my lack-of-balance issues at important moments, but you know? For once, I decide not to get all worked up about it, or self deprecating, or self pitying-- instead, I just pick myself up laughing a little, and go over to join Brian on the floor. He's still smiling; I think he's glad that I'm not going into a mini-tailspin over my fall; that for once I'm genuinely laughing it off is a relief to him. You know what else? I'm happy. Despite the unbelievable amount of shit coming down around my ears: I'm truly happy. I've never been *truly* happy. For the moment, I feel able to put my snarled tangle of worries into a box and shove it to the back of the closet. Tonight, I'm gonna let myself be happy, quietly in love and worry-free.