A/N-so sorry this took so long!! it was really hard to write, i couldn't find the words or anything right, also my husband got food poisoning from my dad's cooking, so ive had to deal with that on top of this, so forgive me and review!!!!! Justin’s POV What the fuck? I thought Brian would be happy for me that I got out of that hell hole, he saw it first hand. Fucking drama princess. I guess everything is just hitting him all at once. I guess now is not the time to tell him about the art show. But god, everything is going so good for me now, can’t he just be happy for me? And he’s going to be fine! The doctor said so. If Brian works hard he’ll play again, so everything is great. Things sure could have been a helluva lot worse. I stab the cash register buttons angrily, taking out my frustration on them. God I want to shake the boy, why is he so angry? I just don’t get it. Jack Kinney’s POV Opening the mailbox I sort through the usual ads and bills, but there’s one envelope that grabs my attention, shit. It’s from Penn State, and with a closer look, the scholarship board. I open it, finding out the worst. That “you will be required to take another athletic ability test in four months time. If you cannot maintain your previous standards, your scholarship will be reviewed by the committee, which may result in its termination.” I let my head fall, how the hell am I going to tell Brian? I’ve never kept anything from him, and this is way too big to hide. I step in the front door and groan at the sight of broken glass, what the hell happened? Did Brian fall? I decide to save the shouting for later and grab a dustpan. It looks like Brian threw his crutches against the wall, a lot of good that will do sonnyboy. I'm guessing his first day back at school didn’t go so well. Finishing sweeping up the glass, I dump it in the kitchen garbage, only to find white dust everywhere. Shit, no it couldn’t be…. I inspect it closer and it looks like smashed up pills. Bending down, I find an open pill bottle, pain meds, Fuck. I immediately spring into action, calling Brian’s name and searching the house. I run up the stairs, trying to figure out how he could have gotten up here without his crutches. “Brian?!” I hear a groan from his room and I run in. He’s on the bed, curled up on his side. “Brian, are you okay? What the hell happened downstairs?” He rolls over to face me giving me a clear look of annoyance, but there’s something else there. Maybe something that relates to the tear stains on his face and his bloodshot eyes. Christ, he didn’t even see the letter yet. “Nothing” he croaks. I don’t really know how to react to his dismissal, I take a deep breath and say calmly, “Well, you better cut this ‘nothing’ out, you’re going to hurt yourself even more. We’re having pork chops for dinner,” and I decide to take a page out of Deb’s book, “Drama princess.” I smirk and I get a little smile out of Brian. “I’ll bring your crutches upstairs bud.” And with that I leave, letting him think about what happened and for him to collect himself. Justin’s POV Using my sunshine smile and puppy dog look I manage to get out of my shift at the diner tomorrow so I can go see Brian. I don’t know if I'll have a smile for him when I see him, but I will try to see what's going on in is fucked up little head. All night I mess up orders and almost drop plates thinking about what to say. Deb gets annoyed, but I just look sheepish and write “trainee” on my name badge, which she gets a kick out of. Unfortunately, that addition made every leather-clad guy in the diner propose different ways they could “train” me. Win some and lose some I guess. But that still leaves me tossing and turning right now, unable to get back to sleep. Never in the history of time has Justin Taylor woken up, at will, at 8 in the morning. But here I am, rubbing my eyes and trudging down Debbie’s orange-carpeted stairs. I wander around the house, looking for something to do before plopping on the couch with a brick of cheddar cheese and a butter knife to watch reruns of Jimmy Neutron. A little while later Deb schleps down the stairs, mumbling and scratching her head, reemerging from the kitchen a half hour later, coherent. Hugging a big tyedye cup of coffee Debbie eases down next to me on the couch. With two red fingernails she steals a piece of cheese and smiles at me. “So. What's eating you up so much that you feel the need to scarf down two pounds of stale cheese?” Huh, I didn’t even notice it was stale. I look up at her a shrug my shoulders. “I guess I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.” Try for my entire life. “Cut the crap, family issues or Brian?” Damn she’s good. I turn down the volume on the TV a bit and tuck my knees up against me, “The latter.” She grabs another slice of cheese, “You know, you both are two of the strongest people I know, stubborn as hell, but both of you guys’s inner strength fuckin blows me away. And both of you are goin through some pretty rough shit. Brian has the strength, but you, you’ve been practicing pain management all your life, you’ve learned when to turn off your emotions and when to just block shit out.” I guess she’s right, I don‘t remember a lot of my childhood, except for some parts with Molly. Self defense I suppose, I had to, or else I wouldn’t be able to survive. “And you know I’m right. Now, Brian’s a tough kid, but his shell hasn’t been hardened like yours. I’m not saying I'm happy you’ve had to build a fuckin wall around your heart, but if it’s the only thing to get you through the day, so be it.” It just became normal for me not to trust anyone, or accept anything at first glance, well, until Brian came along and blew that idea to hell. “Now Brian needs your help, he’s finding his own pain management tactics, and someone has to be there to help him when they don’t work. It won’t be easy or fun, he can be a stubborn little shit, but I’ve got a crazy feeling that you love him, and he sure as hell loves you back, so I think you’re the one he needs, not his mommy or so-called ‘best friend.' You gotta call him on his shit, and hold his hand, when he lets ya.” Thanks I already have a copy of the Kinney-operating manual. Christ she’s making it sound like he has cancer or something, she was the one who said it would all be okay. Even though I think she’s being a bit catastrophic, I reply with a simple “Thanks Deb.” We sit together quietly for another hour or so, watching cartoons and talking about weird people at the diner, polishing off the cheese brick. I’m tired already and the day hasn’t even started yet, but I think it needs to. And with that I toss off the zebra print blanket and walk up the stairs to shower and get dressed, preparing myself for a marathon conversation with Brian.