Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

Thursday Morning – Pittsburgh International Airport

Brian hefted the carryon bag onto his shoulder as he glanced up at the departure screen; his plane to Toronto was running a few minutes late, which gave him just enough time to make a quick call.

"Ted? Did the construction crew show up on time this morning? Make sure they know I'm paying them to complete the job, NOT by the fucking hour. And it had better be done when I get back," he growled, "or they can kiss that bonus I promised them down the toilet." He slammed the phone shut, not even waiting for the other man's response. He didn't care how much more he had to pay them to get the job done; if he could come back to the Pitts and find Babylon completed remodeled and totally unrecognizable, it would be worth every outrageous penny. He hadn't even stepped into the club since the accident; every surface there would just remind him of him. The two of them had had far too many memories there – yes, some bad, some even painful. But most of them had been absolutely unforgettable. That was actually the problem – he couldn't fucking forget. He never wanted to forget the man behind the memories – that was impossible, anyway. But for just a while, he wanted to ease the pain of his absence.

He wasn't sure how he felt about seeing his son – truth be told, he had always looked forward to seeing Gus, despite what he might have led others to believe. But that was before. Before this week. Before the event that destroyed his entire world, and would soon turn his son's upside down as well. For as much as Gus worshipped his father, he also adored his Poppa. Gus' little-boy exuberance and Justin's child-like joy for life were a perfect mesh, whether they were working on drawings together, watching the same cartoons, swinging on the swings at the nearby park, or simply playing quietly with his son's Lincoln logs. Justin had always made sure to spend a significant amount of time with Gus – often just the two of them – and he was the first person Gus asked about after greeting his Dad. Justin would have made a great dad – WAS a great dad, actually – to his son.

Again, Brian felt the piercing stab to his heart at the use of the past tense in thinking about Justin. Even now, his brain was registering that Justin was gone, dead, but his heart stubbornly refused to admit it. God, why couldn't this all be a fucking bad dream? He was thankfully distracted from yet another painful rehashing of what had happened a few days ago by the announcement that his plane was now boarding. He was grateful, too, that his flight only took 90 minutes. If he had had his way, he would have literally drunk his way from the moment he left Pittsburgh until he reached Toronto to try and numb the pain, but he knew he wouldn't because of his son. At least he would only have an hour and a half to be alone with his thoughts – thoughts that would be concentrating on a particular man and just what he was going to tell his son about him now. He remembered the only time he had given any thought to prayer was when Michael had been injured after the bombing, and Justin had somehow miraculously emerged from the same horrifying event relatively unscathed. Now, though, as he slowly walked toward the plane, for the second time in his life, he prayed that somehow he would find a way to say the right words to his son, and perhaps more importantly, find a way to ease the aching, never ending pain he was feeling.


Harrisburg General Hospital – Same Day - Morning

"Good Morning, Dr. Bradley," Michelle greeted Andrew as he approached the nurse's station. "How's my favorite patient doing?" She smiled a little as she could have sworn a slight blush suddenly appeared on the young doctor's face at the mention of his roommate.

"Uh….favorite patient?" he answered vaguely. "I thought ALL the patients were supposed to be your favorites."

"Don't play ignorant, Doctor, you know who I mean….Jacob? Cute little blond with the baby blue eyes? The one who happens to be living with you right now? Ring any bells?" she teased. She didn't normally act so casual with a doctor, but Andrew had always been so down-to-earth and easy to talk to that she felt comfortable participating in some good-natured bantering with him.

"Oh…..THAT patient," he said grinning. "He's…doing okay under the circumstances." At the nurse's questioning expression, he explained, "Physically, he's pretty much healed. At least on the outside. But inside his brain everything is still pretty muddled."

She sobered at his statement. "You think he may never regain his memory?"

He blew a small breath out in thought. "Hard to tell," he informed her. "I'm certainly not an expert when it comes to neurology by any means, but I know enough to know that the brain is a very intricate, complicated organ. There's still so much we don't know. He has been having some dreams that I think are ground in his memory, which is a hopeful sign, I guess." He tilted his head and leaned in toward her. "He had a dream that he was at some club in Pittsburgh the other night," he confided in her. "And he did some research and discovered an event he thought he participated in DID, in fact, occur pretty much the way he dreamed it."

She raised her eyebrows. "That's promising, isn't it?" she asked him. She really had liked the personable young man she had tended to for such a short time, and was hopeful he would recover fully.

"I think so," Andrew replied. "Jacob certainly thinks so. I told him if he could wait until Saturday I would drive him there so we could check it out. Hopefully that will provide some type of breakthrough. for him."

"Do you think it's wise for him to self-treat himself like that?" she asked pointedly. While she was certainly not an expert when it came to the brain, either, she had been a nurse for over twenty years and had been witness to several occasions where one of her patients decided to diagnose and/or treat themselves with disastrous results; she did not want Jacob to be one of them.

Andrew let out a worried sigh; he had pretty voiced the same concern to Jacob already. "To be honest, I don't know," he finally answered. "I've read and been told that sometimes you have to trigger the memory to help regain it. But each person is different, and each situation is different. If it makes you feel any better, I'll confer with Dr. Michaels before we leave Saturday to get his opinion. If he thinks it's a bad idea, I'll have the distinct pleasure of telling that to Jacob," he said sarcastically. He had no doubt what his roommate's reaction would be if that turned out to be the case, and it definitely wouldn't be a pleasant one.

Michelle laughed softly. "I'll leave that privilege up to you if it comes to that," she said. "Something tells me Jacob wouldn't be too thrilled by that decision."

"No, I don't think so, either," Andrew agreed, smiling softly. He had only known Jacob for a few days, but he already felt like he knew the man's personality quite well. He had a feeling that his roommate could be quite the independent, stubborn sort, at least when he didn't get his way.

He glanced up behind the nurse at the clock and noticed to his consternation that he running late; ever since Jacob had come into his life, it seemed like he was always running late now. "I've got to go," he announced, as he picked up a nearby chart and turned to leave.

"Tell Jacob I said hello," Michelle asked as Andrew nodded in acknowledgement. As the nurse watched the doctor rush off, she thought to herself with a knowing smile, You're NOT fooling me doctor – I think I know a man who's been hooked, and you're in deep, fella – hook, line and sinker.


Calhoun Street Apartment

Justin tried to suppress yet another yawn as he finished washing the rest of the breakfast dishes. Despite Andrew's insistence that he not play cook for him, Justin felt it was the least he could do after all the other man had done for him. He had even loaned Justin some of his smaller-sized clothes to wear temporarily; after all, he had had only one change of clothes when he had been brought into the hospital, and they had literally been the ones on his back. While Andrew's clothes were fairly baggy on him, Justin had managed to cuff enough of the extra length to at least make them somewhat presentable.

He had had yet another restless, fitful slumber last night; he tossed and turned throughout the night. And again, the same, dark-haired, sexy man occupied his dreams. Even now, he could still hear the rich, husky tone of the man's voice as he spoke tenderly to him. He desperately hoped that the man would somehow call out his name during the course of one of his dreams, but so far he had been totally thwarted; he remembered the man calling him Sunshine the other night. Surely that wasn't his real name? Even so, he wondered how in the world he had been given that name. It seemed like such an odd nickname, especially for a man; but in his dream, he had reacted to it as if it were the most normal name in the world.

He replayed the most vivid dream of last night in his head as he wiped his hands on a nearby rag and walked over to the couch to sit down. Unlike the horrific dream of the other night, when he was surrounded by death, pain, and mayhem, this one was totally different. He and that same man were together again, but this time they appeared to be in a house. And it wasn't just any house – this one was absolutely awe-inspiring in its impressiveness. It had high ceilings and walls drenched in dark, luxurious hardwood. It was an absolute mansion, the kind that a celebrity might live in. In the first part of his dream, he and the other man were lying, nude, in front of a roaring fireplace, making love. The tanned, dark-haired man was leaning over him and looking at him with the most loving, tender expression on his face as he slowly and gently kissed him. The other man caressed him everywhere as he smiled softly at him. It seemed like time had stood still and they had all the time in the world as the man worshipped him with his lips, his hands, and his eyes. Justin shivered even now as he thought about the intense looks the other man had been giving him; it made him feel like the most cherished man in the world. After they had made love for what seemed like an eternity, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms in front of the fire.

In the second part of his dream, it looked like morning. He and the other man appeared to be in the same house still, but this time they weren't engaging in languorous, tender lovemaking. This time, they were out and out fucking frantically - fucking in the shower, on top of the kitchen counter, on the dining room table, in the bedroom on the plush rug, against the refrigerator, even on the staircase, and in every conceivable position. And when they weren't fucking, they were giving each other unbelievable blowjobs that had them both climaxing multiple times over what appeared to be several hours of activity. Justin blushed even now as he relived their heart-stopping, aggressive, almost violent multiple couplings. He and this man obviously knew each other so intimately that they realized instinctively how to derive the most pleasure from each other, and just what drove each other crazy in a heartbeat; it was readily apparent in their mutual moans of pleasure and cries of ecstasy that were torn from their lips. Afterward, as their sweat-slicked bodies lay shoulder to shoulder, their hair pasted to their foreheads from the exertion, they both sought to control their rapidly beating hearts as they panted breathlessly in unison. He closed his eyes briefly, however, and groaned as he recalled that he was unexpectedly jolted awake just before it appeared the man was about to catch his breath and speak to him again.

"Damn it!" he cried to himself in frustration, as his eyes welled up with tears. Who WAS this man that kept invading his every dream at night? And where WAS he? Was he dreaming about him, too? Did he go to bed at night aching to hold him in his arms as Justin did? He hugged his arms around his body, trying to imagine how it would feel to be lying in bed, spooned against the man's long, lean, warm body.

He sighed in sadness. With Andrew gone to the hospital, the apartment was especially quiet and lonely. His eyes fell upon the sketchbook and pencils that the other man had purchased for him yesterday. He had been touched by the other man's thoughtfulness and generosity; and while he was grateful for the Andrew's friendship and companionship, he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he discovered who this hauntingly familiar man was who possessed his dreams at night.

He reached over to pick up the sketchpad and opened the cover. Balancing it on his knees, he retrieved one of the charcoal pencils and began to tentatively reconstruct the face that belonged to the man in his dreams. As he continued to draw, his hands moved over the paper as if he were in a trance, his pink tongue darting out slightly in concentration. Periodically, he would close his eyes to try and hone in on a particular feature of the man to try and make his drawing as accurate as possible before resuming his work.

Finally, after a couple of hours, he placed his pencil down and gazed at the man staring back at him with a penetrating look. The man's slightly tousled, dark hair fell softly over his forehead as his large, dramatic eyes peered intently back at him. He had been drawn from the chest up, and was wearing a black, sleeveless, wifebeater shirt, the top two buttons casually undone, offering just a touch of his toned chest beneath. Justin placed his slim hands over the man's chest, imagining how it might feel to actually be able to touch the warm, soft skin exposed there. His hands clenched into fists as he again felt the waves of helplessness and frustration bubbling up inside of him. Who ARE you? Help me find you, he pleaded silently.

Just then, he was distracted by the sound of the front door opening. Glancing up, he noticed Andrew entering. "Hey, Jacob," he greeted the blond amiably.

Justin was startled temporarily. "Hey," he answered in turn. "Is is lunchtime already?" He turned around to look at the clock and was surprised to see that it was, indeed, almost 1:00.

"Yep," Andrew confirmed as he walked toward Justin curiously; he noticed the sketchpad he had purchased for his roommate was open on the coffee table and that Jacob had been drawing in it. "Can I see?" he asked tentatively, extremely interested in seeing what the younger man had sketched.

Justin was inexplicably bashful all of a sudden; he wasn't sure if he wanted to share the man of his dreams with anyone, even the man who had been his lifeline lately. Reluctantly, however, he nodded imperceptibly as he pushed the sketchpad toward the other man, who had taken a seat next to him.

As Andrew picked up the sketchpad to peer at Jacob's work, he was stunned. He had thought the house Jacob had drawn before was terrific, but that drawing paled in comparison next to this masterpiece. The handsome man peering back at him was at once both formidable but also vulnerable somehow. He was stunning in an elegant, classic way but was dressed casually and wore his hair in an almost haphazard way. The most mesmerizing part of this man, however, was the eyes – dark, piercing ones that seemed to look clear to your very soul. Without asking him, Andrew knew this had to be the man who had been occupying Jacob's dreams at night. For a few moments, Andrew felt a stab of jealously over this other, as-yet-to-be-named stranger who had so captivated his friend's visions and, quite possibly, his heart as well.

Justin looked over at Andrew nervously, waiting for his reaction. Andrew's mouth hung open slightly as he continued to stare at the drawing. Finally, he answered softly, "Jacob…..This is incredible."

Justin bit his lip, still not totally convinced. "You really think so?" he asked the other man uncertainly.

"Are you kidding me? This is fucking unbelievable. It's so real – almost as if the man is about to leap off the page." He looked over at the blond with considerable admiration and awe. He knew becoming a doctor had not been an easy task for him, but he also knew he would never have one tenth of the innate talent this beautiful man sitting next to him obviously had.

Justin beamed now at the compliment. "Thanks," he said simply. As Andrew returned the sketchpad to him, Justin continued to stare at the man he had drawn. It was an extremely accurate likeness of the man in his visions; now all he had to do was find him.

"Andrew," Justin whispered. "I have to find this man. I know he's the key to finding out who I am."

Andrew bit back his disappointment. He had begun to hope that somehow Jacob would eventually develop the same feelings for him that he was beginning to feel. He knew deep down he was starting to fall hard for this creative and intelligent man. But he also knew that until Jacob found out who he was, and more importantly, who this mystery man was, he would never be free to reciprocate those same feelings for him.

"Andrew…." Justin began.

"Yes, Jacob?" the other man asked gently. He already knew what the other man was going to ask before he said it.

"Did you have a chance to talk to Dr. Michaels today? The neurologist?" The blue eyes peered at the other man anxiously.

Andrew sighed softly; he knew how important this trip was to Jacob. "Yes, I spoke to him," he confirmed.

"What did he say?" Justin asked urgently. "Can we go?"

Andrew looked at the other man waiting with great anticipation for his answer. "Yes," he said softly. "He said it would be okay as long as I'm with you. BUT….he told me the same thing I told you. If there is any sign of discomfort or trouble, you are to be checked out immediately at the closest urgent care center or hospital and we are to abandon our trip right away. Do you understand, Mr. Martin?" he asked the other man pointedly. He still had an uneasy feeling about this, but he knew how much it meant to the other man.

Justin was elated. "Thank you!" he cried jubilantly, as he impulsively threw his arms around the other man's neck and hugged him.

Andrew was overwhelmed with the unexpectedness feeling of having Jacob's slender body melded against his. At first, he tentatively wrapped his arms around the other man's waist to return the embrace, but then held on to him more firmly. He relished the warmth of Jacob's skin and his soft, blond hair brushing against his face before Jacob evidently realized their position and slowly pushed himself away from the other man, embarrassed.

"I…..I'm sorry, Andrew," he said as he looked away awkwardly. He was just so excited about the prospect of perhaps finally finding out something about his identity that he let his enthusiasm get the better of him.

Andrew smiled reassuringly. "No harm done," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant while he tried to calm his quickly beating heart. Just the brief chance to hold the other man in his arms had caused his pulse to speed up and his body to go into overdrive with the sensation. His pants felt too tight from where the blood had rushed to a particular part of his anatomy, also; he was thankful that he had his jacket still on to hide the obvious hard-on that had suddenly appeared.

"Uh…" he stammered uncharacteristically. How in the world does this man do THAT to him? He had never been this unsure before around anyone else. He cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm going to grab me something to eat real fast and get back to the hospital," he stated as he walked into the kitchen, his back to the other man. He furiously tried to think of something clinical and totally boring in his head to try and curb his attraction to Jacob before it became obviously apparent to him. "Would you like a sandwich?"

"That sounds good," Justin responded. Unknown to him and despite losing his memory, the man's normal appetite was still very much intact. "I still feel bad about you taking care of me and buying everything. Surely there's something I can do to earn a little spending money at least, and help pay some of the expenses around here," he insisted.

"You could peddle your ass," Andrew joked. He certainly had a cute one, he thought silently as he looked over at Jacob. The blond, however, had one of those strange looks on his face again. "Jacob?"

Justin shook his head slightly, as if he were trying to reorder his brain to function properly. "It happened again," he said wincingly. "It was almost as if I had heard that before somewhere. I am getting SO tired of this!" he exclaimed, his expression one of disgust.

Andrew looked at him sympathetically as he slathered some mayonnaise on a couple slices of bread. "I know," he replied softly. "Let's hope we'll find out something Saturday. In the meantime, why don't you keep drawing? I think that's a good way to try and jog your memory. And I think it can be very therapeutic."

Justin smiled. "Spoken like a true doctor, Mr. Bradley," he observed, as the man brought over two plates containing a ham and cheese sandwich with some potato chips and again sat down next to him. Thankfully, his problem from before had now diminished.

"No, really," Andrew persisted. "I think it's a good way for you to try and retrieve some of your memories while at the same time helping your body to relax and heal. You could also, no doubt, use a long nap while I'm at work – I know you didn't sleep well last night."

"And how do you know that, Doctor," Justin pressed. "Why weren't YOU asleep?"

"I…..I was worried about you," the older man admitted. "Besides, you were tossing and turning so much, I could practically hear it from the next room," he teased.

"I'm sorry if you didn't sleep well last night," Justin said sincerely. "Listen….if this isn't working out, I'm sure I can find some other place to stay until I can find a job or something."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jacob!" Andrew vehemently retorted. "It's really been no trouble. And I've told you….if I wasn't watching over you, you would undoubtedly wind up having to stay in the hospital while you're undergoing treatment. And you've already made it clear how much you hate hospitals."

"You're right there," Justin confessed. He wasn't really sure why he was opposed to them so adamantly, but he detested them with a passion for some reason. He would be forever grateful to Andrewfor allowing him to stay with him during this troubling time.

Andrew rose after several minutes and threw the now empty paper plate in the trash. "Duty calls," he said mockingly. "Another day, another sick patient," he pronounced with a smirk. "Don't forget," he admonished the other man. "Call me if there's any sign of a problem…..okay?"

"Yes, Doctor," he was reassured. "Go….I'll be okay."

As Andrew nodded and walked to the door, just before he went to open it he turned and peered over at the other man, who was once again absorbed in drawing yet another sketch of his mystery dream man, no doubt. I hope you find what you're looking for, Jacob. Whatever that is, he thought, before quietly closing the door behind him.

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