Picture provided by Susan ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 4: Brian's hands were resting on the table. He'd clasped them tightly together and now Debbie put her hands on his and held them. “Did he use protection?” she asked him and Brian nodded.   “Well, thank God for that at least. Have you seen a doctor … been checked out?”   Brian shook his head. “I don't need a doctor ... I've got a few bruises, but that's about all”.   “Are you sure that's all?”   “I'm sure ... but what I can't work out is why I feel like I'm falling apart.” “It's not the beating … I've taken plenty of those and the rest … well … it was just sex. So why can't I think of it like that … as just another trick … another fuck?”   Debbie moved her chair closer in order to reach him more easily and she stroked his cheek, wiping away a tear. Brian closed his eyes; her touch soothed him, didn't threaten him and he welcomed it. She spoke slowly and gently.   “Brian, honey … what every woman knows ... but what most men can't seem to get a handle on, is that rape has very little to do with sex”.   “It's about power … control … humiliating and degrading someone. This man forced himself on you … made you fear for your life.” “He entered your body without your consent and when he did that … he took away your control … your power and right to choose. Which is why the sex you had with him is like nothing you've ever had before”.   “Does that make any kind of sense at all?"   Brian nodded. “Yeah, I think it does.”   “You should probably talk to someone about this, you know?”   “A shrink? I don't need a shrink or some counsellor ...”.   “Okay … but there's at least one other person you do need to talk to ...”   Brian sighed. “You mean Justin”: his answer a statement rather than a question.   Debbie nodded. “I know he's been worried about you ... he told me he thought something was wrong. He thinks he's done something … that he's to blame somehow. You can't let him go on thinking like that”.   “I will talk to him, I promise … but can we just keep this between us for now? Please Debbie, I don't want anyone else to know ... not even Michael.”   She stroked his cheek. “I promise I won't tell anyone. You will get through this, Brian and I'll do anything I can to help ... but Justin's the one you want to let in.” “He loves you … let him heal you.”   “Are you okay to get home ... do you want me to come back with you?”   “No, I got here on my own ... I'll be fine”.   They rose from the table and Debbie stretched up to put her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. They stood in the kitchen, the silence broken only by the ticking of the clock and they hugged each other for several minutes before pulling apart. Brian kissed her on the cheek and smiled.   “Thank you”, he whispered and Debbie watched him leave.   She had never seen Brian like this before; cowered, insecure and out of his depth. Since he'd escaped from home, he'd always been so much in control of his life and she couldn't imagine the torment he must be going through now; that control having been taken away.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     When he got back to the loft, Justin was waiting up for him. He'd thrown their meal in the trash, had cleared away the broken glass from before and made a bed up on the sofa.   “I wasn't sure if you'd still be here”, said Brian, slowly closing the door behind him.   “I made up the sofa so you can have the bed to yourself ... is that okay?”asked Justin, but Brian merely shrugged and headed for the bedroom.   Truth was, Justin had thought about leaving; wondered if Brian might even care if he had. But when it came to it, he couldn't. Whatever it was that was eating him up, he wanted to be there for Brian. In order to prove to him that he did care and that he wasn't going to bale out on him at the first sign of trouble; that he was adult enough to cope.   “Brian ... whenever you're ready to tell me what this is all about ... I'll be here”, said Justin and he sat down on the makeshift bed. At least Brian had come home; he'd been worried sick about him.   Brian hesitated for a moment halfway up the steps. Debbie was right, he should tell him. But he wasn't ready to: not yet.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     Eventually, Brian drifted off into a fitful sleep and Justin was woken in the night by the sounds of him thrashing around in bed. He heard him cry out in fear and hurried over to him. Climbing onto the bed beside him, he put his hand on Brian's shoulder and spoke his name, trying to wake him as gently as possible; the man soaked in sweat and obviously very distressed.   “Brian … Brian”, whispered Justin. Brian opened his eyes and even in just the light shining in from the street, Justin could see the fear in them. He sat up quickly and moved away from Justin's touch, breathing hard and trembling.   “Hey ... it was just a nightmare”. Justin was kneeling behind him and offering words of reassurance. But for Brian, it was as if he were reliving the assault all over again. In his nightmare, he'd felt the man's hands on him and saw him leering over him, even though he couldn't quite make out his face. And he'd felt the cold steel on his neck and heard the words, “Oh baby ... I know you want this so bad”, and he thought he was going to throw up.   “I'm okay”, he said, weakly. “Brian ... you're not okay”, Justin pleaded with him. “Whatever it is ... you can't let it go on like this ... look what it's doing to you.”   “Give me a minute. I'll be fine. I … I'm gonna take a shower”, and Brian made his way to the bathroom, wanting to put distance between them as much as needing to cleanse himself and Justin lay down on the bed, waiting for him to return, wanting to make sure he was going to be okay.   Brian stripped off his clothing and got in the shower, letting the water flow over him. But his head was spinning and the trembling grew worse and he desperately tried to keep himself in check.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     Justin wasn't sure how long he'd dozed off for, but when he woke, he could still hear the water running and realizing that Brian must have been gone for some time he went to check on him.   “Jesus Christ … Brian!” Brian was curled up in a ball, sitting in the corner of the shower. The running water was now freezing and he was shaking uncontrollably.   Justin grabbed a towel and opened the door to the stall, stretching across the stricken man to turn off the water and putting the towel around Brian's shoulders, he struggled to get him to his feet.   Half-carrying and half-dragging him, Justin managed to get Brian back into the bedroom and sat him on the bed. Wrapping the towel around him tightly, he began to dry him off, rubbing his limbs to bring back the circulation. Brian was still shaking, not as much as before but still hadn't said a single word.   Once dry, Justin put Brian in his robe and back into bed. Brian no longer tried to keep him away and climbing into bed beside him, Justin held him; cradling the man in his arms until he fell asleep: letting him know he was there.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     Justin held him throughout the night, terrified of letting him go. And it wasn't until the phone rang just after 9:15am. forcing him to pick it up quickly so as not to waken Brian, that contact was broken.   It was Michael. He'd rung the office expecting to speak to his friend, only to be told Brian was off sick.   “Justin … no school today?”   “Uh … no ... I have some free time this morning”, came the reply, not wanting Michael to think that something had happened which meant Brian needed anyone around to look after him.   “Is Brian there? Only Cynthia told me he was sick ... I just wanted to check on him”.   “He's in the shower right now”, lied Justin again. He'd walked into the bathroom himself and closed the door. He couldn't whisper, Michael would want to know why, but he didn't want to disturb Brian.   “Is he okay ... shall I come over?”   “He's strained his back a little ... that's all”, replied Justin. “I expect he'll be at the office tomorrow. It's nothing to worry about.”   “Okay ... tell him I called … I expect I'll speak to him later” replied Michael and he rang off.   Returning to the bedroom, Justin discovered that Brian was now awake. “Sorry …. I didn't mean to disturb you. That was Michael … Cynthia had told him you were sick. He wanted to know if he should come over … I told him no”.   “Thanks”, said Brian, quietly. He lay looking at the ceiling, trying to get his thoughts together. The last thing he remembered was getting up to go to the bathroom, but he couldn't recall coming back to bed.   “What happened last night?” he asked finally.   Justin sat down on the bed beside him. “I found you in the shower … you were freezing. Don't you remember?”   Brian closed his eyes. He had a recollection now of a nightmare and of taking a shower, trying to wash away the trick's hands he'd felt on his skin. He also remembered a sudden attack of the shakes and of Justin wrapping him in a towel and taking him back to bed. He felt so ashamed; appalled he'd not been able to keep things together; that Justin had to find him like that. There was no way he could ever risk the blond seeing him fall apart again.   Justin put his hand on Brian's shoulder and felt him flinch slightly, but at least he didn't move away.   “Why can't you tell me what this is all about? Whatever it is ... it's killing you on the inside”. Justin waited for the answer, but he was unprepared for what came next.   “I want you to leave”. Brian's voice was low and rasping, but there was no mistaking the words.   “What?”   Brian took a deep breath and repeated himself. “I said I want you to leave … get your things together”.   “You're throwing me out? Brian, you can't do that … you need me here ...”   “I don't need you ... I don't need anyone. Now get your stuff and go.”   Justin got up and stood looking down at him. “Brian, you don't mean that. Look at the state you're in ... you can't be on your own right now ...”   “Don't tell me what I need, Justin. I know what I need and that's for you to be out of here.” And Brian pulled the sheet up over himself and turned away, refusing to discuss it further, but Christ, how his heart was breaking, sending the blond away.   Justin closed his eyes for a moment, wondering why he was so surprised. He was hurt and angry that Brian wouldn't tell him what was wrong; wouldn't confide in him or trust him and he grabbed his rucksack from the bottom of the closet and collected some of his things. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, think rationally and decided he wouldn't take much, that way he would have to come back soon and hopefully, Brian would have sorted himself out enough by then to want him to return. But until then, it seemed Brian was determined to go it alone; he would just have to bide his time.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     Justin wasn't sure where he should go. He knew he could always crash at Daphne's or even at Debbie's and it was to the Liberty Diner that he headed for.   Debbie looked at him in surprise as he walked in the door, knowing he should be in class right then, but she took one look at him and the rucksack: It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened.   “What am I going to do Debbie? He just threw me out ...”   “What did he tell you?”   “Nothing ... I haven't got a clue what's going on. He just told me he didn't need me and to get out. But you should see him Deb ... he's so screwed up right now.”   He stared at her; she was unable to look him in the eye and suddenly Justin realized Debbie must know more than she was letting on.   “You know ... don't you? When did he talk to you?” and then he remembered; that's where Brian must have gone when he'd walked out of the loft.   “For Chrissakes, Debbie … why would he talk to you and not me? Why won't anyone tell me what's going on?”   “I'm sorry, Sunshine,” answered Debbie. “Brian's the only one who can do that. I tell you what, after my shift, I'll go round and see him … see if I can talk some sense into him. If we can't get this sorted out straight away ... well, you can stay at my place, okay?” and she patted his arm.   “Now ... have you had anything to eat yet this morning?” she asked and Justin shook his head.   “No, I didn't think so. Okay ... let's get you some breakfast and afterwards how do you feel like giving me a hand today? I bet you could use the money and it'll help you keep your mind off things. Whaddya say?” Debbie knew he'd be no use at school today and offering him work, at least she could keep an eye on him.   Justin smiled weakly and nodded and then put his coat and rucksack behind the counter and sat down whilst Debbie ordered him something to eat. Doing a shift was probably the best thing right now. She was right, he was going to need the money and keeping busy wasn't a bad idea.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     Debbie's shift didn't finished until 7:00, and Justin put on his coat as she was leaving. “I'm coming with you”.   “I don't think that's a good idea, kiddo ...”   “Debbie, I need to make sure he's okay and if you talk him round ... I want to be there”, and Justin picked up his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder.   Debbie smiled, she knew he wouldn't be put off and she took his arm and together, they walked over to the loft.     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     When they arrived at the converted warehouse, the front door to the street was unlocked and they let themselves in.   “Sunshine, I think you better stay down here … let me go up and talk to him on my own” and Debbie made her way up to the top floor in the elevator.   Justin hated to admit it, but Debbie was right; she probably would get more response out of Brian if he weren't with her.   Debbie knocked. It took several minutes of loud banging before the heavy metal door was eventually opened. Brian looked passed her and out into the hallway and seeing she was on her own, he stepped back to let her in.   “Jesus, Brian ... you look like shit”.   “Don't fuck around Debbie … why don't you just come out and say what you really mean”, he answered, sliding the door behind her.   She was right; he did look like shit. He'd stayed in bed ‘til gone noon and then got up, not bothering to shower or shave and was dressed in the same tee and worn jeans he'd been wearing the day before and he'd been drinking most of the afternoon.   “Why are you here?” he asked and he followed her into the loft, walking barefooted across the floor.   “I wanted to make sure you were okay” she answered him.   “Oh really? Are you sure it's not because a certain blond came running to you?”   Debbie turned around to face him. “What do you expect ... throwing him out like that? He deserves better, Brian”.   “I know he does,” came the answer. “Why do you think I told him to go?”   “You need help…”   “Why won't anyone listen to me?” said Brian, his voice getting louder. “I don't need help. In fact ... in fact I've made up my mind, I'm going back to work tomorrow … this never happened, okay? So there's nothing for you to worry about” and he tried to walk away from her. Trouble was, no one walked away from Debbie and she followed him up the steps to the bedroom.   “Brian ... you can't just dismiss it like that … it doesn't work that way, but you don't have to do it on your own ... you shouldn't even try. You need people around you … people who care about you.”   He turned around to face her; why couldn't she just let this drop. “I don't need anyone ... how many more fucking times do I have to tell you!”   “Well then, what are you going to do about Justin? I can't believe you still haven't told him the truth ...”   “And what truth would that be, Deb? That I did what I've done a thousand times before ... brought a guy back here I didn't know … only this time that I was dumb enough to allow myself to get attacked?” “That I let some complete stranger walk into my own home to beat the crap out of me ... hold a knife against my throat and rape me?”   “Brian, it wasn't your fault … it's never the victim's fault ..”   “I don't want to be a victim, Debbie … I'm not gonna be a victim”, yelled Brian back at her, his voice breaking, trying so hard to rein in his emotions and barely believing his own words.   “No, you're hurt and you're scared because you had no control over what happened to you and you think you've been made a fool of. Is that why you made Justin leave ... because he might think less of you on account of what happened?” asked Debbie and she put her hand gently on his arm.   Brian took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Maybe”, he said quietly. “He's still a kid, Debbie … I can't bear for him to see me go through this.”   “I'm not a kid, Brian”, said the voice from behind them.     To be continued.