Brian

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The psychiatrist, the one who had such an impressive resume, was admitting that he might not be helping Justin?

Brian was beginning to get angry, but suppressed his rage until he could get some answers.

"Doctor, what do you plan on doing about it?"

"That's why I asked you to come. I thought you could give me some insight."

"And how is that? I don't have a degree in psychiatry, although I should growing up in that mockery of a family of mine."

"You know Justin best," the doctor continued, completely focused on his mission. "Do you think he still wants to harm himself?"

"I don't know Doc, let me get my crystal ball," Brian said with a sardonic lilt.

"Mr. Kinney, this is a serious matter. We need to combine our efforts to help Justin."

Brian sighed in resignation and rubbed a hand over his face.

"He's been looking better and has been interacting more with his family and friends, but..."

"But something is bothering you," Dr. Vaughn finished for him.

"Yes."

"What is it about his progress that's troubling you?"

"Justin seems to be trying his best to get past this. He's putting on a brave front, but when he doesn't know I'm looking I can still see the sadness. I can only catch a glimpse of it though before he hides it behind a smile."

"You think he's having thoughts of ending his life again?"

"Fuck!" Brian exclaimed as he jumped up from his chair, agitated by the possibility of that happening.

He shook his head and confessed, "I don't know. I mean, I didn't expect him to forget about Ethan and the accident overnight, but I didn't think he'd make such a quick recovery either."

"If you have to venture a guess?"

Brian scratched the back of his head, before blurting out, "Fuck if I know. I used to read him so well, but now...now I'm not sure of anything."

Brian Kinney was frustrated. Why couldn't he tell if Justin was doing okay? Fueled by his frustration with himself he turned his fury on the professional sitting across the way from him.

"Why are you asking me all the questions? I'd like to get some answers, like why are you suddenly concerned? What the fuck's been going on in your therapy sessions?"

"You know that I can't divulge anything, Mr. Kinney. I'm sure I need not remind you that there is such a thing as doctor-patient confidentiality. What Justin tells me is just between the two of us."

"I've had it with you sanctimonious shrinks!" Brian barked. "You want me to tell you everything I know. You ask me to help you help Justin, yet I'm the one doing all the talking. If this is to be a true collaboration doc, then let's start collaborating."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kinney. I can imagine how frustrating this must be."

Fucking head shrinker. The douche bag wasn't going to tell him anything. He was going to hide behind the doctor-patient excuse, which was bullshit!

"If you want me to assist you with Justin, you better consider me part of the therapy team." Brian was so desperate to know what was going on he added, "Of course, if you do I'll be inclined to make a rather large donation to your research."

The doctor stood up, the deep crinkle above his forehead giving the only indication of the vehement of his response.

"Mr. Kinney, I realize that you're accustomed to making deals as a businessman and using money as an enticement, but I am not a businessman. In my profession, trust and integrity is everything. On that note, I think you should leave. When you are sincerely interested in working together to ensure Justin's safety on my terms, you're welcome to come back."

Brian was incensed. The little weasel was going to tell him what he could or couldn't do. Fuck this! He turned on his heels and left, slamming the door behind him.


Justin

He helped his mother set the table, trying to be the dutiful son.

"How is everything going with Dr. Vaughn?" Jennifer asked.

"Great. He says that I'm doing extremely well. He's never seen so much progress in such a short amount of time."

Jennifer smiled, tears of relief welling up in her eyes.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad. I was crazy with worry for you."

"You don't have to worry anymore, mom," Justin lied, as he rested a hand on her shoulder.

He didn't have the heart to tell her that the opposite was true. Her son was a head case and was now into cutting himself to cope with his guilt. Justin found that it was easy to make people believe something because they really wanted it to be the truth. Jennifer was no exception. She hadn't bothered to look too deep and took what he had projected on the surface to be the truth.  Denial anyone?

Her words cut into his thoughts, "Did you go to the gallery yet?"

"No, I'm going there tomorrow at 10:00, if that's alright with you."

He hated that he had to ask his mother's permission to go somewhere alone. But that was one of the rules of the game he was playing.

"Oh honey, don't you think you should wait for Brian to go with you?"

"Lindsay wanted me to look at the set-up and she's only going to be there until twelve."

Jennifer had thought scheduling her overdue mammogram appointment would be okay since Molly said she would be around doing a school paper. But now, she wasn't so sure.

"I could cancel my appointment and go with you," she volunteered.

"Mother, I'm perfectly capable of traveling to the gallery on my own. I'm going to be with Lindsay the entire time I'm there. Besides, how would it look for the famous artiste to be accompanied by his mommy?"

This was an important step for Justin's career, as well as his overall well-being. It's not every day your son has a solo exhibition in such a highly regarded venue. Jennifer remembered the doctor had stressed that Justin needed them to trust him. He could only do that by regaining their trust in small increments.

"Well, I suppose it's okay. But you'll call if you need me?"

"Yes mother, I will," he assured her.



Brian

The visit with the doc was nagging at him. Could Justin be in trouble again? Would he be that adept at hiding his deteriorating mental state? Damn the kid!

He decided to call Jennifer because he couldn't focus on his work. She was Justin's mother, maybe she had picked up on something.

When Jennifer Taylor didn't answer her cell, he decided to call the house. Molly answered sounding a little miffed.

"Taylor residence, who is this?"

"Hey Squirt, it's Brian. Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?"

"Nah, I was just working on a project for school and it's driving me bananas."

"Far be it from me to keep a young mind from expanding her knowledge. Is Jennifer there?"

"No, she's at the medical office getting a mammogram. The doctor said she had to go this week. She hasn't been taking care of herself because of everything that's been going on with my brother."

"Oh, I see. What's Justin doing, can I talk to him?"

"He's not here either."

"What do you mean, he's not there?"

Brian's blood pressure starting rising and the alarm in his voice was evident.

"Mom said it was okay for him to meet Lindsay at the gallery. You know, to set up for the show. Is something wrong?"

Justin was probably with Lindsay, who had always considered him a protege of sorts. Maybe he was overreacting about this.

"No, not really. Just tell Jennifer to call me when she gets home."

"Sure. Goodbye, Brian."

"Bye, Freckles," he said, unable to resist the urge to taunt the youngest Taylor one last time.



Justin

He wasn't all that excited about the show. He hadn't painted anything new in months, since before the accident to be exact. Everything on display would be pieces he had done in Italy.

He had said yes to Lindsay only to keep up his facade. But now he was beginning to regret it as he walked through the entrance of the gallery. Lindsay's eyes lit up when she saw him. She came over to embrace him and planted an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek.

"I'm so thrilled for you, Justin. Come, take a look at everything and let me know what you think."

As she dragged him around to each painting, his anxiety began to mount. He had a vivid flashback of Ethan smiling and saying, "This is your best one yet, Jus. You're a genius!"

"Justin, did you hear me?" Lindsay repeated.

"What? Oh, um sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you thought the lighting was good for this one. I wasn't sure. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed with the thought of a solo show in my home town."

"Have no fear. It's going to be absolutely fabulous!"

They were finishing with the staging of the last of the paintings when Lindsay glanced at her watch in horror.

"Oh good grief, I have to run. Don't want to be late for a lunch date with a prospective client."

Justin eased her mind by saying, "Don't worry Linz, I'll finish up here and then head home. Thanks for everything."

"No need to thank me. It's my privilege to introduce you to everyone in the Pitts as our local prodigy. They're very lucky to get to see work of your caliber. It's just a matter of time before New York, the artistic mecca of the world, beckons."

She made him blush and he suddenly felt intense pressure from her little speech. "Bye, Sweetie," the willowy blonde said while she pulled on her coat. She blew him a kiss as she flitted out the door.


Lindsay

Damn it!

She had been in such a rush to be on time for her lunch date that she forgot the car keys in her office. Now she'd have to waste more time walking the two blocks back to the office to get them.

A flustered Lindsay traipsed into the gallery, intending to get in and out as fast as she could. She pushed open the door to her humble office and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Justin... What are you doing in here?"

The scene didn't register at first. It took a moment or two for her to process the guilt ridden face, the knife in his hand and the bright red line on his arm. All she could do was gape in disbelief as he started to frantically wipe at it with a tissue.

"Oh my God! What have you done to yourself?" she finally managed to gasp.