Justin

As he lay on the floor of his room and wept, something changed in Justin.   It was his darkest hour, yet it would also prove to be a turning point for him.  
 
With nothing but time on his hands, he began to think about the way he used to be, before the accident.  Notable memories of the past served to remind him that the old Justin would have never cowered in defeat and would fight with everything that he had to rise above the pain.  Gathering his inner strength, he drew upon that tenacious young man hidden deep down inside himself. 
 
Taking charge of his own destiny, Justin knew he was one step closer to beating his addiction.  He made a pledge that from that moment on, he would focus his energies on getting better.  Once he accomplished that goal, he could move on to figuring out what he truly wanted out of life. 
 
It was a coincidence, Justin thought, that the movie he watched on TV the very next day with the other clients was Rocky.  He had always liked the movie and could certainly relate to the Sylvester Stallone character, who was starting at the bottom and hoped to make his way to the top.  The amateur boxer wasn't the smartest or even the most talented, but he had a willingness and hunger to learn.  Rocky trained hard for the fight of his life and Justin realized he would have to do the same. 
 
Inspired by those thoughts, he found himself eager to begin his journey.  Justin realized that a considerable advantage he would have on his side was that he had always been a fast learner.  He prudently decided to listen carefully to what the therapists had to say, internalize it and then use it to conquer his demons.
 
 

Brian
 
He couldn't let anyone else have that painting.  His sole purpose for going back inside the gallery was to purchase it.  As soon as he secured the painting, he'd turn on his heels and make a quick getaway. 
 
The transaction went without a hitch, especially after he agreed to the hefty price the gallery owner shrewdly requested.  The man had balls to ask a ridiculous amount, but nonetheless, Brian would not waste his time haggling.  He was happy to do anything that would help promote Justin's promising career. 
 
After arranging for the painting to be delivered to his loft, Brian made a beeline for the exit.  However, much to his chagrin, his premature departure didn't go unnoticed and a distinct, stern voice sought to foil his plans. 
 
"Brian...Hold it right there, Mister!"
 
As much as he wanted to ignore it, he knew the consequences would be far greater.  Brian raised his hands in surrender to the fiery redhead.
 
"Ooops, you caught me." 

Debbie ventured closer and intentionally invaded his space while she shook a chastising finger at him. 
 
"And where the fuck do you think you're going without saying goodbye to anyone?"
 
"Didn't know I needed permission to leave...ma," Brian sarcastically quipped .
 
"Don't play fucking innocent with me.  Michael told me what happened.  Of course, heaven forbid you let anyone see that underneath that tough exterior  you're actually human."
 
Brian grew quiet and averted her steely gaze by looking down at the floor. Debbie always had a way of making him feel perpetually twelve years old.  She never failed to cut through the bullshit and get straight to the point.  Although he would never ever tell her, he admired that trait in her. 
 
His self appointed mother figure grabbed his chin and forced him to look directly into her piercing blue eyes. 
 
Debbie's voice changed and there was a noticeable softness to her tone when she said, "I know how much you still care about him, only you don't have the cojones to tell him."
 
It was unfortunate for him that Debbie had this unnerving ability to read him and call him on his shit.  Her concern and fondness for him was evident despite her blunt words. 

"Even if I did, he's in no shape to resume his life.  He needs to work through some things," Brian said dismissing her declaration.
 
"What he needs is to be home with his family not in some fucking, godforsaken nut house.  Damn gestapo won't even let us visit him."
 
For a minute, Brian thought Debbie was going to break down and cry.  Her lip was actually quivering.  It made him realize how upset and worried she was over Justin's plight.  But then, she always did have a soft spot for her "Sunshine".  Knowing how stubborn Debbie was, he could only deduce that she may have tried to get in touch with Justin.
 
Although he could truly understand her sentiments, he knew that this time she was wrong.  Justin needed far more than his family.  He needed professional help and he was in exactly the right place to get it.
 
With unshed tears brimming in her eyes the redhead finally conceded, "I just want Sunshine to be okay."
 
"Me too," Brian agreed.  It wasn't difficult for him to admit that he'd give anything for the kid to get the light back in his eyes.
 
Debbie gave him a sympathetic, understanding look and he sensed that he was being given the okay to take his leave.
 
"You take care of yourself, kiddo.  Someday Sunshine's going to realize who stuck by him and who really loves him."
 
She gave him an affectionate pat on the cheek and walked away.
 

 
Justin
 
With every day that passed he found it a bit easier not to fixate on his need to cut.  What had made a difference was his education on the subject.  He became intrigued during his one on one therapy sessions and he began to request reading material on the causes of cutting.  His shrink, a hip, young therapist named Doctor Joe, was more than amenable to obliging his sudden interest.  As a result, Justin began to gain some valuable insight about his condition.
 
Writing became an important part of his therapy.  He adhered to his shrink's advice and had taken to keeping a journal.  Putting his feelings down on paper helped him.  Justin had a inkling that some of the staff had found out about his success as an artist, because various personnel encouraged him to try his hand at painting as a means of expressing himself.  But he wasn't ready for that yet.  Part of him yearned to create something, while the other part stopped him from actually doing it.
 
During the day he was assigned menial tasks.  In between his therapy sessions he would perform mundane duties such as mopping the floor or doing laundry.  It was a humbling experience.

The nights were the hardest when images of Ethan lying in the wreckage still haunted him in his dreams, or when he had time to think about his family.  He missed them terribly and was counting the hours till he could contact his loved ones.
 
He rarely thought about Brian since he was far too busy focusing on himself and constantly suppressing the urge to self mutilate.  However, Justin was well aware that he'd have to deal with his feelings for his ex eventually, but he hadn't progressed enough in his treatment to even consider it.

Since the moment he decided to do everything in his power to become mentally fit, his mindset shifted, and he was now a willing participant in the daily therapy sessions.  He was cognizant of the fact that he had a long way to go.  Although, the Doc had praised him for his newfound attitude and assured him that he had already won half the battle.
 
Tomorrow was going to be an important day.  Justin would exercise his earned right to his first phone call.  The anticipation of it made him anxious.  Even though it had only been a week, it sure as hell felt like a lifetime.