Jerking awake, Justin sits up, gasping for air. “Brian?” Looking around, his heart falls and the tears begin to form in his eyes. “Shit,” he mutters, wiping his face with his hands. Swallowing hard, he stares at the clock. Where was Brian? Why hadn’t he called? Justin slowly gets out of bed, hobbling to the bathroom. His joints were sore and his body screamed for a cigarette. Funny how he hadn’t smoked as much as he thought he would since the whole ordeal began. Thinking back, Justin realizes he hasn’t smoked at all since the morning client meeting at Vanguard. Relieving himself, Justin turns on the water and washes his hands, staring at his palms and down to his wrists. It could be so easy, just cutting open a few vital veins… so easy. Life was fragile, and he wasn’t sure if he could go on if Brian was dead… if Brian had died trying to save him and Molly. His only saving grace in all of this was his sister. He would never leave his sister alone. Death would have to wait. Closing his eyes, he chuckles softly to himself, scolding those thoughts away. No one was going to kill Brian. Brian was like Teflon. He was… he is… Rage. Yes, Brian was/is fine. Opening his eyes, he turns off the water and studies his reflection. He looked exhausted, his eyes were dull and his lips were dry from crying in his sleep. Having a sudden urge to call his mother, more tears emerge. “Shit,” he tells himself, “this isn’t happening… I can’t do this…” he hurries back into the bedroom before his legs give out and hides under his blankets. Images of his parents dance across his eyes and he tries to remember the last decent thing that occurred between his father and him… and nothing comes to mind. Exhaling, he chokes back a sob. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. His family was gone. They were dead. It was just him and Molly… and everything was on him. He needed to make sure Molly was happy. He needed to make sure Molly was safe… safe and happy. That was his goal. Brian. Brian was his anchor. Brian was his everything. Without Brian… “Oh God…” he sobs openly now, knowing full well that his sister is a deep sleeper. “Brian…” he moans. Was he gone forever? Would he ever see him again? And if he was alive, would he ever be the same… what did he have to do in Birmingham? What was the deal?... “Brian… please be okay… oh God, Brian… I love you so fuckin’ much… please don’t leave… don’t leave me…” rocking himself under the covers, he presses her face against the pillow, trying to breath in his lover’s scent. “I need you so much… please don’t leave me….”