Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

Adam's victim is revealed as is his hatred of Fin.  Will he go down by himself or take anyone else with him?

 

 

 

Shocked and stunned with disbelief, Fin felt the sharp sting as the knife sliced through his shoulder and he fell to the ground from the force of the impact.  He watched through a haze of pain as he observed Dean quickly grab Adam's wrist and give it a violent twist to pry the knife from his hand; it made a sickly sort of clattering sound on the hard, wooden floor as his political opponent and former colleague wrapped his arms around the other man from behind in a vise-like hug to keep him from doing any more harm.

 

"Let me go, you asshole!" Adam snarled, devastated that his plan to take care of Brian Kinney had been thwarted; the only satisfaction he was getting was from the knowledge that he hadn't missed his goal entirely.  If he couldn't bring the queer son down, at least his actions had served to bring the queer father down.  He continued to wriggle violently against the other man's grip, trying unsuccessfully to break away as he glared down at O'Connor and Kinney, who had dropped to his knees in front of his father.  "Let me finish what I started!"

 

"You ARE finished!" Whittle growled against his neck as he squeezed the other man tighter.  "What the fuck do you think you were doing?"  He felt the other man trying to break away, but there was no way in hell he was letting him go.  In college he had participated in a number of sports, including wrestling, and to this day he engaged in racket ball games and jogged on a regular basis; he was enormously grateful for the strength it provided him at that moment as he held onto the man for dear life.

 

"Fin!" he called down to his friend in concern.  "Are you all right?"  But there was no immediate answer from his former colleague, who was being tended to by his son.  Brian had whisked off his suit jacket and was currently using it as a makeshift bandage to staunch the flow of blood coming from Fin's shoulder wound.  He could see Fin grimacing in pain from the pressure of Brian's hand, but he knew it was necessary at the moment.  "Brian?" he called out to his friend's son, but the man didn't respond to him, either; he only had eyes at present for his father.

 

"Security!" Dean Whittle called out at the top of his lungs.  "We need security!"  He wasn't sure if there was any security personnel nearby - most of the crew having left to prepare for the evening newscast - but he was desperately hoping that at least one of them was still around.  To his enormous relief, after several seconds a man wearing a navy colored uniform with a silver security badge came rushing up to them.

 

"This man just stabbed the senator!" he told the surprised man.  "We need 9-1-1!"

 

The security guard quickly studied the situation, noting Fintan O'Connor lying in a half-sitting position as his son tended to a wound in his right shoulder before he nodded curtly.  "Better let me have him," he decided, hurried assessing the situation.  "And you can call 9-1-1.  Just let me get my handcuffs out first."

 

"Gladly," Whittle told the other, more stocky and muscular man, wanting nothing more to do with the bastard who had just committed such a heinous act.  He held onto Stewart by his arms until the security guard could retrieve his handcuffs and place the metal rings around the other man's wrists before he shoved him roughly toward the other man as if he were dispensing with a distasteful piece of garbage.  Adam tried furiously to pull away from the guard once he was in his grasp, but he found that it was futile against the other man's larger bulk.  As Adam glared over at Whittle in barely-controlled fury for his part in his captivity, the security guard quickly unclipped his gun from the holster while still holding onto him with his other hand.  Only when he had the gun out and ready to use did he relax his hold on Stewart.

 

As Adam made an immediate movement to escape, the guard immediately barked out, "Don't even think about it, or you'll have a bullet lodged in your back. Stay right where you are."

 

Adam's eyes blazed with fury, but hearing the other man's steely resolve he realized the man was deadly serious.  His shoulders sagged somewhat in resignation over his failure to carry out what he had meant to do; the worst part of all was the disappointment he knew his father would feel over his ineptitude.  The fact, also, that Kinney would get away totally unscathed created a sour taste in his mouth as he looked down at father and son and spit out, "Damn fucking fags."

 

Brian normally would have rose up and cold-cocked the son of a bitch where he stood over a statement like that, but his great worry over his father far outweighed his instinct to do that.  Instead, he looked into his father's ashen-colored face and slightly cloudy eyes as he continued to support Fin's torso with one arm and press his jacket's material against the shoulder wound with his other.  He knew it was best to keep his father's upper body propped up to help stem the flow of blood, but his arm was beginning to ache from the effort.  He was determined, however, to stay precisely like he was until help arrived.  He could hear Whittle calling 9-1-1 on his cellphone as he murmured to his father, "Everything's going to be okay.  You're going to be just fine."  He wasn't sure if his words of reassurance were directed more at his father or to himself, however; inside he was scared shitless that a major artery had been nicked or severed.  He could feel the linen material of his jacket quickly becoming soaked under his fingers, but he desperately held on tight against his father's skin, praying help would arrive soon.

 

For a few horrific moments, time stopped as another unspeakable event rose to the surface, an occasion several years ago as he had knelt much like he was doing now, except it had been on a cold, unyielding cement floor in a dark, dirty parking garage instead of a brightly-lit studio, and he had been cradling the head of the young man he had managed somehow to fall in love with.  To his surprise, the fear he had felt that night was very close to what he was feeling now - a fear of potential loss, a fear born of helplessness, a fear bred from things spun wildly out of control in a speck of surreal time.  Those were feelings that Brian Kinney still felt distinctly uncomfortable with, feelings that caused him to examine his innermost self, and it made him feel way out of his element.  His enduring, deep love for Justin helped him to accept and acknowledge those types of feelings - even outwardly express them at times - but to have the same sort of emotions swirling around his heart at the moment over the father he had never really known before was a startling revelation to him.

 

"Brian..."

 

He glanced down at the pasty-looking face of his father, his brow contorted in pain, and he pressed the jacket sleeve a little more harshly against his father's shoulder.  "Shhh..." he whispered.  "You're going to be just fine, Fin.  Help will be here any minute.  Don't talk."

 

"Tony..." was the ragged rejoinder.

 

Brian peered into his father's gray eyes and shook his head slightly; his free hand sought comfort in the steadily-beating heart beneath his touch at Fin's back as he reassured him, "I'll have someone contact him, but not right now; just stay still and don't move."  He glanced up at Dean who advised him, "The paramedics are on their way, Brian."

 

Brian nodded his gratitude, squinting his eyes against the extreme brightness of the hot spotlights still shining down onto the studio floor; he wondered how such a seemingly innocuous event as a civil discourse between two political candidates could have exploded into such a horrific, surreal turn of events as his eyes fell upon Stewart's face.  It was a face full of hatred and fury, eyes dark with wrath and scorn, his disdain for him and his father so obvious now.  How Brian could have missed the man's true nature was a puzzle to him; he always prided himself on being able to read others, but when it had come to this oily slime he had somehow missed the mark completely.   He locked gazes on Stewart, staring unblinkingly at him in a silent dare for the other man to look away until finally, he won the battle of wills and Stewart averted his gaze from him.  Was it possible that his failure to accurately root Stewart out as a threat would now cause Fin serious injury - or worse?

 

He looked down into his father's eyes to find them staring back at him; he tried his best to give his father a soft smile of reassurance while he felt the burn of unshed tears in his eyes.  It should have been me, he couldn't help thinking.  Not him.

 

The sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps made him lift his gaze to observe a couple of paramedics rushing up with a gurney and two large, plastic medi-kits hung over their shoulders.  Only when the two men had Fin safely in their control did he finally release his hold on him, but he caught Fin's hand and held it firmly as they began to work on him.

 

Approximately a minute later, two uniformed men from the Harrisburg Police Department came hurrying over to take possession of Stewart, taking him away for questioning with an advisory that the rest of the party would need to have their statements taken at the station later; Dean volunteered to accompany the policemen down to the station immediately to help describe what had happened.   Brian spared Stewart barely a cursory acknowledgment as he was dragged away, the bigot's voice slowly becoming fainter as he continued to spout his vitriolic diatribe of ‘homos and moral depravity' as the policemen took him into custody.

 

Taking a breath of relief that at last Stewart was out of their hair, he turned his attention back to his father.  "How is he?" he asked the paramedics anxiously, noticing the men had Fin's jacket and shirt off and now had a large, white bandage wrapped around his shoulder and his torso.

 

"It appears to be a fairly minor wound," one of the men told him to his enormous relief.  "But we need to take him down to the hospital to have him checked out to make sure."

 

Brian nodded as on the count of ‘three' the two men gingerly lifted Fin up onto the gurney and laid a lightweight, white cotton blanket over him; Fin's pressure on his son's hand tightened slightly as Brian rose along with them, never breaking their grip.  "I'm riding in the ambulance with him; he's my father," he told them firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

 

The same paramedic nodded.  "Okay, you can sit in back with me; let's roll then."

 


 

Shortly afterward - Fin and Tony's house


"You must have cheated somehow, you fucker!" Justin accused his friend as Tony laid one more winning poker hand down on the living room coffee table and grinned smugly; remains of several recipes they had tried out earlier together lay strewn around the cards:  spicy Thai glazed chicken wings, cinnamon pecan nuts, and Chinese noodle butterscotch candy to name a few.  They figured while father and son were gone they would take advantage of it and have a good, old-fashioned high-carb pig out and they had been enjoying it enormously.  That is, until Tony suggested they try a few rounds of poker, using quarters as the ante.  Somehow, despite the fact that Justin always thought of himself as a pretty good poker player, Tony's pile of quarters was enormously larger than his was.  "No one wins that many times without a little help, Cassinelli!"

 

Tony chuckled.  "You sound just like Fin; he never plays poker with me anymore for the same reason - unless we make it strip poker.  Then he figures either way he wins.  But I'm an attorney, Mr. Taylor," he added in mock indignation.  "I'll have you know that I don't cheat."

 

Justin laughed.  "Pardon me; I stand corrected," he told his friend as he reached for another handful of cinnamon sugar pecans and plopped them into his mouth.  "In either case, Counselor, you've depleted my quarter reserve, so I think it's time we call it a night."  He glanced up at the clock overhead the fireplace and frowned as he realized how late it had gotten.  "Speaking of which, I wonder what's keeping Fin and Brian?  That debate ended over an hour ago; unless Fin has a legion of adoring fans congregated around him for autographs, they should have been here by now."

 

"Yeah," Tony agreed, becoming a little perplexed himself.  Lately with everything that had transpired, it didn't take much for him to jump to conclusions each time something didn't occur as scheduled, but he tamped down the worry long enough to tell Justin, "I'll give Fin a call and see what's going on."   Justin nodded as Tony flipped his phone open and punched in Fin's one-digit code to call him; he frowned as it went directly into his message system.  "It went right into voicemail," he told Justin.  "Why don't you try Brian?"

 

Justin nodded as he, too, flipped his phone open to dial Brian's one-digit number, also receiving the same response.  His brow furrowed in concern as he looked over at Tony.  "Now that's just fucking odd," he murmured.  He could understand Brian and Fin both having their phones turned off during the debate, but it was over long ago; just what the hell was going on?  "I'm sure it's nothing," he told Tony, not sure if he was trying to convince his friend or himself more.  "They probably got caught up in talking to the media or something.  Do you have Don or Mark's phone # stored in your cell?"

 

Tony nodded in confirmation; he was about to search for one of their numbers when his cellphone suddenly rang.  Looking over at Justin, he brought the phone up to his ear.  "Cassinelli."  Justin watched as his friend swallowed noticeably.  "That's all you know?  You don't know how bad?"  There was a brief pause before Tony's mouth drew into a tight line and he replied, "We'll be right there; if you hear anything else - anything at all - you call me, you understand?"  He slapped the phone shut as he lifted his gaze to look at Justin.

 

"What is it?" he whispered, feeling a sense of dread suddenly washing over him.  He almost knew the answer before Tony told him.

 

"That was Don Meyers; he just heard an unconfirmed report that there was a stabbing at the site of the debate a little while ago; story is there's been at least one victim transported to Harrisburg General, but that's all he's heard so far.  The media of course is going bonkers at the moment."

 

Justin's mouth hung open in shock; of all the things he had imagined, this hadn't been one of them.  "He doesn't know who..."

 

Tony shook his head as he stood up and grabbed his and Justin's jackets lying draped across the back of the couch.  "No, and he hasn't had any luck getting through to either Fin or Brian, either."  Handing Justin his jacket, he found his hand trembling slightly as he placed it comfortingly on his younger friend's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  "Let's not imagine things until we know exactly what's going on, okay?"

 

Justin licked his lips nervously, all sorts of horrible things running through his mind.  Tony was right - they didn't even know if Brian or Fin was involved.  It was just a wild, unconfirmed rumor, nothing more, nothing less.  Why was his stomach churning in knots, then?  He always felt like he and Brian had this thin, gossamer bond running between them, something that always told him if he was in danger or hurting somehow.  Right now, though, that link was failing him miserably because he couldn't tell what was going on at all, and it scared the hell out of him.

 

"Justin?" he heard Tony softly call out to him as he turned to gaze into a face that precisely mirrored his own.

 

He shifted his attention back to his friend and nodded, pursing his lips together in determination.  "Let's go."  In less than a minute, they were out the door heading into the garage and on the way toward the hospital.

 


 

Same Time - Harrisburg General Hospital


"Well, you'll be in some pain and experience some stiffness for at least a few days, but I think the wound will heal nicely," the ER doctor was telling Fin, who was sitting sideways on the hospital bed, his long legs dangling off the side.  The wound in his right shoulder had been patched with a large, white bandage after being cleansed and stitched shut; that and a matching sling holding Fin's arm immobile to prevent further injury was the only outward evidence now of what had happened a few hours ago.

 

From his place on one of the hard, chrome, padded hospital room chairs, Brian watched the interaction with a sense of both relief and guilt; enormous relief that his father was going to be okay, but tremendous guilt that it should have been him that was sitting over there instead of his father.  If Fin hadn't deflected Stewart's knife at the last second, there was no telling where the weapon would have wound up.  Something told him that Stewart hadn't meant to just inflict a grazing wound on him; no, from the hatred that had come spewing out of his mouth afterward, the man had meant to cause much more serious, possibly even lethal, damage than that.  Only through the swift actions of his father had he been spared serious injury.

 

That knowledge made him marvel that someone would go to such lengths for him.  Certainly Justin would have done something like that for him without question - of that he had no doubt.  He had seen some evidence of that before when Justin's asshole of a father, Craig, had attacked him that one night outside the club.  And he would most certainly do the same for Justin - had done the same for him - without reservation.  But to have a father - a real father that truly cared, dare he say, loved, him enough to risk his own life over his without a second's hesitation?  That was an awesome realization that was almost too hard to even fathom.

 

He turned his attention back to his father as he heard the doctor instruct him, "You'll need to schedule a follow-up appointment with your family physician in a week so they can examine the wound.  And make sure that it's cleaned and redressed regularly to avoid infection.  If you experience any fever over a hundred degrees or any redness in the affected area, you need to seek treatment immediately."

 

Fin nodded.  "Will do, Doc.  Thanks."

 

The doctor nodded.  "I'll have the nurse come in with your discharge instructions and have her call transport to take you down to your car."  He glanced over at Brian.  "I assume you'll be driving him home?"

 

Brian nodded.

 

The doctor held out his hand to shake Fin's left one.  "Good luck, then, Senator.  Follow the instructions I gave you and you should be fine."  With that, he gave a brief nod to Brian before turning and exiting the room, leaving father and son alone for a brief moment.

 

Brian stood up, wiping his hands on his pants, not so much because they were sweaty but because he found himself inexplicably at a loss for words for a change.  He approached his father's side as he told him softly, "I'm glad you're going to be okay."  It was a profound understatement, actually; after all this time of not even knowing he had a father in the true sense of the word and then coming  within a hair's breadth of possibly losing him, words all of a sudden seemed to fail him.  "How do you feel?" he asked.

 

Fin pasted a soft smile of bravado on his lips as he told his son, "Just a little sore and stiff like the doc said.  I'll be good as new in a few days, though, probably even earlier if Tony the nursemaid has anything to say about it."  His eyes suddenly got wide as he exclaimed, "Tony!  My God, Brian, if he's heard what happened, he - and Justin - must be going nuts!  We need to call them right now!  Shit!  I didn't even think about that!"    He began to search around for his belongings, spying them in a large, clear plastic drawstring bag lying on another chair nearby.  "Hand me my cell, okay?"

 

"I will, Fin, in a minute," Brian told him.  "There's something I need to say first."

 

Fin looked flustered, knowing what was coming.  "No," he murmured, feeling odd all of a sudden at the idea of being cast in the unexpected role of hero.  "It's okay.  You don't have to say anything."  Brian wasn't the only one that was new at this father-son dynamic; there was no rule book on how to handle dealing with an adult son you didn't know you even had, much less one so much like himself.  And the thought of being thanked for doing something that any father would automatically do for his child was foreign-sounding to him.

 

"No, Fin," Brian persisted as he stood close to his father, who averted his eyes from his studious gaze.  "What you did back there..."

 

"Brian..."  He felt his good wrist being grasped as he slowly lifted his eyes to meet his son's.

 

Brian gingerly sat down next to his father; the sights and sounds of the hospital ER dissolving into the background; right now it was just him and Fin.  "We both know that Stewart was aiming for me tonight, not you.  If you hadn't interceded when you did, who knows what he would have done?  At the very least, it would have been me here with an injury instead of you."

 

Fin once more turned his gaze away to stare at the far wall.  "I should have stopped him before he even had a chance to do what he did; it was my fault."

 

Brian's mouth hung open in incredulity; that was the last thing he expected his father to say.  "YOUR fault?  How could this have been your fault?  Fin, you most likely saved my life tonight!"

 

Fin let out a heavy sigh.  "I should have been able to tell how he really felt.  I knew him longer than you did and he always did come across as a weird sort of loner.  I should have seen this coming somehow and prevented it."

 

Brian huffed out an exasperated breath.  "And just how the fuck do you think you could have done that?" he chided him.  "Listen to me.  I always think I'm a damned good judge of character, Fintan O'Connor, and if I couldn't tell he was a loose cannon, you couldn't have, either, trust me."

 

Fin turned to cast his gaze back on the determined face of his son to persist, "But if I hadn't given him the job out of a sense of loyalty to Regina..."

 

Brian shook his head; the man just didn't get it.  "Fin, that's the way the world goes ‘round; you know - quid pro quo?" he told him.  "You scratch my back, I scratch yours?"

 

"I think I might have heard of that expression somewhere," he told his son with a wry smile.

 

Brian nodded.  "Then how in the hell could you have known that the son of one of your most trusted assistants would turn out to be a damn homophobic psycho prick?  Can't you just accept my gratitude for saving my damn life and be done with it?"

 

Fin winced as a rumble of laughter threatened to bubble to the surface.  "Ouch...don't make me laugh, Brian," he told his son as Brian's face contorted into worry and he clamped his arm around Fin's shoulder protectively in reaction.  "I'm okay," he told him in reassurance.   "Just remind me not to let Tony show any comedy DVDs to me while I recuperate a little more.  Speaking of which..."  He really needed to reach his partner; God only knows what must be running through Tony's mind at the moment.  The request he was about to utter again to have Brian get his cellphone died on his lips, however, as he heard a ruckus immediately near his room and knew it wouldn't be necessary.  He and Brian exchanged a glance as his son slowly slid off the bed and rushed over to the doorway to observe two very familiar faces contorted in aggravation and anger.

 

"Damn it!" Tony was growling as two security men prevented him from proceeding any further. "Let me the hell go!"

 

"This is Fin's partner, you morons!" Justin told them as he tried to push them aside; unfortunately between the two men they must have had at least fifty pounds on him, and the rather narrow hallway prevented him from sidestepping past them.

 

"Sir, if the two of you don't settle down, we will have you forcibly removed," the larger of the two men was telling Justin and Tony; from the moment they had arrived near the emergency room entrance, they had been met by a virtual flood of media camped outside.  It seemed that word of the rumor had spread like wildfire; the only good part to all of it was that they had been able to circumvent the ER entrance and enter through the main location unhindered by anyone who might have recognized them as key players in the O'Connor campaign.  They had threaded their way internally to the ER, only to be stopped cold just inside the doorway by two hospital security gorillas who must have been told not to let any unauthorized personnel enter.  So far, they still hadn't been able to confirm just who had been injured and how badly any injuries were, adding even more to their frustration and worry.

 

"For fuck's sake!" Justin shouted helplessly, uncaring of how much attention they were garnering with the hospital staff.  "We just need to know how the senator and his son are doing!  Can't you at least pass along a message to them?"

 

"What do I look like - Western Union?" the older of the two men sneered at him.  "There's a waiting room back about twenty feet; you can wait there for word."

 

"Gee, thanks," Justin told him with disdain.  He shook his head angrily; he was not giving up.  Thoughts of Tony trying to distract them while he ran for it filtered through his mind just before he heard a voice that made his heart leap into his throat.

 

"Justin!"

 

Justin jerked his head around the two men to see an intact-looking Brian standing approximately twenty feet way and his body flooded with relief.  "Brian!"

 

"Let them go!" Brian told the two men in as authoritative a voice as he could muster.  "They're who they say they are!"

 

Something in the tone of Brian's voice must have registered sincerity somehow, because the two security men glanced at each other momentarily before the one who was apparently in charge gave the other man a curt nod and they miraculously parted like the Red Sea.  As soon as they stood to either side of the hallway, Tony and Justin rushed from their place toward Brian.

 

As soon as he was a few feet away, Justin launched himself into Brian's arms as Brian wrapped his hands around Justin's back and held him tightly, closing his eyes to just savor the moment.  It had only been a few hours since they had last seen each other, but at the moment it felt like it had been an eternity.

 

"Brian," Justin murmured against his chest.

 

"Shhh," Brian whispered, his chin lying on top of the golden-haired head.  He inhaled the familiar scent of Justin's coconut and almond shampoo as he told him, "I'm fine.   Everything's okay."  And standing there with Justin in his arms, he knew that was the truth; everything would be okay now.

 

He pulled back reluctantly after several seconds to look down into Justin's troubled eyes, noticing others staring at them as he gently propelled Justin into Fin's room where the other two men were having a tender reunion of their own.

 

Justin gasped as he noticed Fin sitting sideways on the hospital bed, his shoulder adorned with a large, white cotton bandage.  "My God..."

 

"I'm fine, Justin," Fin told him; he and Tony were sitting side-by-side, their hands clasped together.  Tony couldn't take his eyes off his partner as Fin explained, "It's just a fairly minor wound; the doctor said it should clear up on its own without any lasting effects.  I'm going to be just fine," he reassured both him and his partner as he smiled over at Tony, whose fingers tightened imperceptibly against his.

 

Brian kept one arm curled around Justin's shoulder as Justin told them, "We tried to call both of you and the phones went directly to voicemail; and when Don called to tell us there had been some kind of incident after the debate, all sorts of things went through our mind.  We didn't know what to think...We only knew we had to get here right away to make sure you were both okay."  He shook his head in disbelief as he peered over at his father-in-law.  "What the fuck happened?"

 

"Something I never, ever expected," Fin told him curtly as Tony lightly brushed some hair back from Fin's forehead, apparently trying hard to make sure his lover was, indeed, intact and fairly well, at least under the circumstances.  "It was Adam," he told him, his lips drawn into a tight line over the thought of how he had been so soundly duped into never seeing the man's true colors.  "He stabbed me."

 

Justin's eyes widened as Tony gasped; he hadn't had time yet to find out the whole story himself.  "As in Adam Stewart?  Your aide's son?"


A muscle twitched in Fin's jaw as he nodded, still finding it hard to believe himself.  "Fucker came out of nowhere after the debate; walked right up to us and pulled a folding pocketknife out of his pants pocket."

 

Brian cleared his throat.  "What Fin isn't telling you is that the knife was meant for me, not him.  He deflected it at the last moment."  He inhaled a shaky breath before he added, "Fin was stabbed because of me."

 

"That's enough, Brian," his father told him sternly, his voice strong despite his injury and leaving no room for argument.  "We've already had this discussion and it's closed.  The only one to blame here is Stewart...Okay?"

 

Brian bit his lip, holding back the protest that threatened to emerge from his lips.  He still felt guilty about the whole thing, not to mention just a bit unaccustomed to such support from a family member - besides Justin, anyway.  He finally nodded his agreement as Fin nodded back at him in satisfaction.

 

"Where is he now?" Tony asked, still trying to digest this unbelievable bit of information.

 

"Harrisburg P.D. came and took him down to the station," Fin told the other two men.  "Dean Whittle actually helped restrain him until security came and called 9-1-1- for me."  He let out a shaky breath, still finding the whole situation hard to believe.  "Quite a departure from what Turner would have done; that bastard probably would have been more than happy to just leave me lying there bleeding to death on the floor..."

 

"Fin," Tony murmured, unable to even think of that outcome.  "Don't..."  If Brian and Whittle hadn't been there when the whole thing had happened...

 

"Hey, Counselor, come back to the bench," he heard Fin say as he swallowed hard and turned to lift his gaze to meet Fin's.  "I'm fine," he reiterated to him firmly as he squeezed his partner's hand with surprising strength.  "But I AM tired of this fucking hospital; where is that damn wheelchair?  I hate this policy; if someone doesn't get here in the next few seconds I'm going to walk out of here on my own power."

 

"That might be easier said than done," Justin told him, still savoring the feel of Brian's hand on his shoulder.  He drew his own strength from that as he told them, "The media is parked right outside the ER doors; as soon as you pop your head out they're going to be on you like bees on honey."

 

"Shit," Fin muttered, somehow not surprised by that but hoping that wouldn't be the case.  "I am NOT in the mood to deal with them right now.  Did you and Tony come in that way?"

 

Justin shook his head.  "No, we took one look at all the jackals waiting outside and walked around to the main entrance to come in the other way."  Fin nodded as he added, "We'll have to have someone either run interference for you or hope there's some other way to get you out of here unnoticed.  Maybe there's a back employee entrance or something."  Just then a clanging sort of noise alerted them to another's presence as a hospital transport employee entered with a wheelchair, followed by a nurse.

 

"All set, Senator?" the nurse asked Fin, noting his valuables packed up.  "I can assist you with putting your shirt back on; it's getting a little chilly outside."

 

"It's all shredded," he told the nurse as Tony slid off the bed and walked over to his partner's bag of valuables, plucking out Fin's suit jacket and walking over to gingerly drape it over his shoulders.  The two exchanged a loving look as he informed the nurse, "The senator needs some other way to leave the hospital with all the media outside.  Is there some back entrance he might be able to use?  He's in no condition to deal with them right now."

 

The woman considered that for a moment before she nodded.  "I suppose we could take you down a floor to the lower level and let you out through the freight entrance.  It's highly unorthodox, but considering your stature and the media circus I saw for myself a few minutes ago, I think we could make an exception."  She eyed Brian, who she recognized from earlier.  "You'll be driving the Senator home?"

 

"No," Tony immediately piped up, unable to stand the thought of being separated from his partner anymore.  "I'm his partner; I'll be driving him home."

 

The nurse paused for a moment, not too surprised by that statement.  She had been following the gubernatorial campaign closely lately and knew the senator's sexual orientation; she had also viewed the press conference a few months ago when his partner had been introduced to the public and recognized him now.  "Fine," she told them with a nod.  "I just need you to look over your discharge instructions and sign them, and then you'll be free to leave.  Sheila here knows the way."

 

The other woman standing behind the wheelchair - a tall, imposing woman with dark black hair and piercing eyes, nodded.  "Won't even need GPS," she joked as she cracked a piece of gum in her mouth and grinned.

 

Fin smiled at her gratefully as the nurse approached with a green folder, opening it to pull out four pieces of paper.  After several seconds of explanation as to what the papers signified, Fin managed to sign the paperwork with Tony holding the paper securely for him before his partner slid his hand under his shoulder for support and he slowly slid down from his perch, groaning a little as his feet hit the hard, linoleum floor.

 

"You okay?" Tony asked softly, knowing how proud - and stubborn - his partner was.  Fin gritted his teeth as he nodded, standing there for a few moments to catch his bearings before he slowly shuffled over to the wheelchair and, using his good hand, managed to plop down into the seat with another soft moan.  "I'm fine," he told the other three men, who all looked at him warily.  "Let's get out of here."

 

Sheila nodded as she walked around and pushed the foot rest supports down for Fin to place his feet on.  Standing up, she told them, "This way, gentlemen," as she deftly turned the wheelchair around and began to wheel Fin out of the room.

 

"You'll need to bring the car around," she told Tony as they began to walk toward the elevators.  "Just look for the service entrance sign directing you to the access near the main entrance of the hospital and follow the arrows.  You'll see three semi loading and unloading bays right next to the service door with a ramp there.  By the time you bring the car around, the senator should be ready to meet you."

 

Tony nodded, hesitant to let his partner's hand go but knowing he must.  He gave Fin's hand one last squeeze before he released it; Sheila instinctively stopped the wheelchair long enough for Tony to lean down and whisper in his partner's ear, "I'll be right back, okay?"

 

Fin nodded back at him as Tony placed a quick kiss on his cheek before standing back up to look at Brian.  "Where's the car?"

 

"Still back at the studio; I came with Fin in the ambulance."

 

Tony nodded.  "I'll have one of Fin's staff come back tomorrow and get it.  I'll be right back, then."  The other three men nodded as he hurried off to retrieve Fin's SUV.

 

Brian and Justin hung back a little as Sheila led them over to the elevators, punching in the button to descend to the lower level; their hands remained firmly clasped together, each obtaining much-needed emotional sustenance from the gesture.  Brian idly caressed the top of Justin's hand with his thumb, perhaps not even aware he was doing so as the door opened and they all entered the elevator car together.

 

A few minutes later they emerged to find themselves waiting in a rather narrow, bland-looking hallway near a single door, watching for Fin's SUV to arrive.  Soon a single set of headlights approached from the east side of the building, coming close enough for Fin to instantly recognize them as belonging to his own personal vehicle.

 

"That it?" Sheila asked him as Fin nodded and began to rise from his place in the chair.  Only then did Brian finally break his handhold with Justin and grasp Fin's good arm under his bicep to help him stand, Justin walking over to do the same on the other side, only he took care to slide his arm around Fin's upper back to assist him instead.

 

Sheila opened the door to see the senator's partner emerging from the driver's side of the vehicle to walk up to them.  She continued to hold the door open as the trio began to exit to the outside, telling Fin sincerely, "Good Luck, Senator.  I'll be voting for you, by the way."

 

Fin twisted his head to bestow a trademark smile and a nod on her before he turned and slowly ambled down the ramp with his son and Justin's help, Justin willingly conceding to let Tony replace him at Fin's side as he walked up to them.

 

"I'll drive," Justin decided.  "You and Fin can sit in the back together, then."  He knew how much he craved being next to Brian at the moment; he assumed Tony was feeling much the same way as he was.  His suspicions were confirmed as Tony flashed him a grateful smile as they arrived at the SUV and he reached over to open the back passenger door for his partner.  Waiting patiently for Fin to use the overhead handle to help slide himself inside, once his lover had managed to swing his legs around to the interior of the vehicle he shut the door and walked over to get in beside him from the other side.

 

A few minutes later, all four men were finally safely inside the SUV and on their way out of the hospital, thankfully leaving the tenacious band of insatiably curious media personnel far behind them.

 



Forty-Five Minutes Later - Fin and Tony's Home


Justin sighed as he fell heavily onto the couch, feeling utterly drained after the past few hours.  He closed his eyes briefly in relief, savoring the quiet and solitude.  Brian had had to field several calls from Fin's staff on the way home, ensuring them that their candidate was fine and beseeching them to field any other calls needed from the media in the meantime so his father could get some much-needed rest.  He had also arranged for all of Fin's home phone calls to be forwarded to Mark Leon to handle.  Tony had insisted on taking Fin back to their bedroom to lie down as soon as they had arrived, even though Fin had offered up a half-hearted protest that he was fine, only to be met with an unyielding, defiant stare from his partner that he was not going to back down.  Wordlessly, then, Fin had allowed his partner to lead him toward the rear of the house toward their master bedroom to do precisely as he was told, a silent admission that this man was the only one in the world who had command over his heart and his typically stubborn will.

 

Justin, for his part, had spent several minutes of his own phoning everyone he could think of in their immediate circle of family and friends to let them know what had happened and that everything was under control; he had been immensely relieved to find out that Gus had already gone to bed at Sean and Kathy's house and was oblivious to what had happened.  Now, he slowly opened his eyes as he felt Brian's fingers softly feathering the hair at the nape of his neck; turning his head, his smiled lovingly at his husband reclining beside him as Brian curled his hand around Justin's neck and gently pulled him closer for a tender, soft kiss.  As they pulled back, Justin whispered, "That was close, Brian; too close.  For both of you."

 

Brian swallowed, knowing Justin was right but hating to admit it.  "Everything turned out okay..." he tried to counter, but the words sounded hollow even in his own throat.

 

"This time," Justin told him as their hands came together once more to intertwine; since the events of earlier he found that he couldn't stop touching Brian, reaffirming to himself that his husband really was okay, that THEY were okay.  "What about next time, though?"

 

"Stewart was a whack job, Sunshine; there's no reason to think there will BE a next time," Brian told him as he stared into the concerned pools of blue.  "You can't place yourself into a perpetual bubble; that's existing, not living."

 

Justin huffed.  "I know that, Brian; I of all people know that," he reminded him as Brian nodded silently.  "But there's a line you sometimes need to draw between living the life the way you choose and demonstrating common sense.  If you expose yourself to bigots and ‘whack jobs' as you put it on a frequent basis, the vermin are all going to crawl out of their slimy holes just like Stewart did.  Those kind of people don't think rationally OR logically."

 

Brian studied Justin's face carefully before he replied, "So...What?  Are you saying Fin should turn tail and run now, Justin, because of this idiot?  What would that prove?"  Despite his own great guilt over what could have been, that seemed like the worst solution to him.  He had never shrunk from a battle and he had no intention of doing so now.  Besides, it wasn't his decision to make; it was his father's.

 

Justin sighed as he looked down at their intertwined hands, so familiar and so comforting; even so, his heart was beating wildly at the thought of what might have happened earlier tonight.  "I know," he whispered in the face of painful reality.  "My head knows it wouldn't prove a damn thing, and it isn't something that either you OR your father would do.  My heart, though, is telling me to pull you somewhere into a secure, protected sanctuary, throw away the key and never let you out again."  He slowly lifted his eyes to meet Brian's as he added in a choked voice, "If anything happened to you - or Fin..."

 

Brian reached over with his other hand to cup Justin's cheek and softly caress it.  "It works both ways," he murmured in a heartfelt response.  "But I believe in what we're doing here, Justin.  And I know Fin does, too, or he wouldn't be subjecting himself to all this.  He's a strong-willed man, Sunshine.  He can confront this - and come out victorious in the end; I know he can."

 

"Yes, I agree," Justin replied softly, leaning instinctively into Brian's touch.  "I just hope it doesn't cost all of us too much in the process."  He sighed as Brian's fingers slowly caressed his skin.  "You know I believe in Fin, too, and I'll support whatever you and he decide.  This whole climate still scares the shit out of me, though, and I'm sure Tony feels the same way, even more so after tonight."

 

Brian leaned over until they were touching head-to-head, shoulder-to-shoulder as he replied, "I know you will, and I love you for that."  He smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation.  "We sure pick extreme ways to get some private time lately, don't we?"

 

He heard Justin's soft chuckle beside him as his husband answered, "You might say that.  I say we enjoy it while we can, then."

 

Brian sighed in contentment, relieved that everything had turned out relatively all right and he could at least relish a few moments alone with the man he loved.  "I couldn't agree more," he whispered as he slowly closed his eyes in mental exhaustion, forcing himself to concentrate for the time being on the here and now.  There would be more than enough chaos tomorrow; for now this was exactly what the doctor ordered.

 


 

Same Time - Master Bedroom


"Tony..."  Fin didn't have to open his eyes from his supine position on the bed to feel his partner's eyes boring into his.

 

"What?" Tony replied sheepishly as he continued staring into Fin's face for any sign of discomfort.  He was lying on his side facing Fin, his elbow bracing him up as he gazed over at his partner's form.  Fin had practically fallen into bed once they had arrived there, exhausted and drained from his ordeal a few hours ago, not even bothering to remove any piece of clothing.  Tony had managed to dislodge his shoes and belt, electing not to disturb him any further at the time before Fin had slowly closed his eyes and softly moaned over the slight discomfort presented with the shoulder wound.

 

Fin opened his eyes to turn his head and find his partner doing exactly what he thought he was doing - keeping careful vigil over him, even though he had already told him several times that he was stiff and sore, but okay.  He sighed as he gazed over at Tony affectionately.  "Will you please stop already?"

 

"Stop what?"

 

"You know what; doing that Mother Hen routine you always do when you're worried about me."

 

Tony twisted his lips ruefully, knowing he had been caught red-handed.  "You know I can't help it when it comes to you," he grumbled in embarrassment.  Only Fin could make him falter a little in his self-confidence.

 

"I know," Fin told him, his eyes full of love for this caring, compassionate man.  He reached over to take his partner's other hand and cradle it against his chest with both of his.  "But you need to let it go, Tony.  It's over and we persevered just like we always will."

 

"Will we, Fin?  Persevere, I mean?  Just because we have right on our side?  Because trust me, I've tried enough cases in my life to know that it doesn't always work that way and justice isn't always served.  I've represented clients that I know were sent to jail for a crime they didn't commit, but because of extenuating circumstances or something else out of their control they were found guilty anyway.  What happens when our own luck runs out just like theirs did?"

 

Fin pretended to look affronted by the idea, but he knew what Tony meant.  "What happened to your faith in me, Counselor?  I hear some doubts trickling in there."

 

Blue eyes flashed in irritation as Tony countered, "You know better than that, Fin!  You know I back you one hundred percent no matter what you decide.  But this isn't a game; this was your life at stake tonight!  That fucker could have killed either you or Brian!  Would it all be worth it then?"  He swallowed the hard lump in his throat at the thought of something like that happening as he added, "It wouldn't be to me; nothing would be worth losing you."

 

Fin softly rubbed Tony's hand, his heart full of love for his staunchest of defenders.  One side of his mouth turned up fondly at his lover as he told him in all seriousness, "I know what could have happened tonight, Tony; I recognize the stakes all too well.  But that psychopath was gunning straight for my son.  I couldn't let that happen," he told him, realizing now how much Brian meant to him.  He gazed into his partner's eyes as he admitted, "You remember how scared I was at the thought of even meeting Brian before?"  Tony nodded as he continued, "Well, tonight - when I saw that flash of metal reflecting off the spotlights above the studio and realized in one horrible moment what Stewart was about to do - I only had one thought on my mind:  getting to my son to protect him."  He shook his head, hardly able to believe it even now.  He blew out a breath between his lips.  "Wow, how things have changed, Tony."

 

Tony stared into his lover's face, noticing the change in expression that came over him; his fingers curled over Fin's hand to give it a squeeze as he murmured, "Yeah, it has.  You really do love him, don't you?"

 

Fin gazed into Tony's eyes a moment before he nodded.  "Shit, God help me but I do, Tony, I really do.  I'm glad he's in my life - and I'm glad you're in my life, too."  Tony smiled at him as he added softly, "Have I told you lately just how much I fucking love you, Counselor?"

 

Tony replied with a smile as he told him huskily, "I'm sure you have, but I never get tired of hearing it."

 

Fin nodded as he brought Tony's hand up to his mouth to kiss the knuckles.  "Well, that's good because I never plan to quit telling you."

 

Tony's smile faded a little as he told Fin, "And you know how much I love you, too - and worry about you.  But I know how important this campaign is to you, too.  Isn't there some happy medium that can be reached, though, between still being accessible to the voters while ensuring your safety a little more?"

 

Fin dropped their clasped hands between their bodies as he pondered that question.  "Maybe," he conceded to Tony's relief.  "How about Brian and I talk to Don about that tomorrow?  At least we're done with the road trip and the first debate; the second one won't be until next week.  We'll have some much-needed time to regroup in the meantime."  A sudden thought occurred to him as he murmured, "Poor Regina."

 

Tony was dumbfounded.  "Poor Regina?  Fin, her son almost killed YOUR son - stabbed you in the shoulder on top of it, and you feel sorry for her?"

 

"Tony, she couldn't have known what he would do; I'm convinced of that.  Regina has been more than supportive of me for years and has had no problems with my sexuality.  I'm sure she had no idea what her son was capable of doing.  She will be devastated when she finds out, if she hasn't heard already."

 

Tony shook his head, not exactly surprised by Fin's compassion but not sure if it was misplaced.  "Well, that may be, Fin, but I would watch her just the same.  What's the saying?  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

 

Fin laughed softly.  "Why, Counselor, what a cynic you've become all of a sudden!"

 

"No," Tony disagreed.  "Just cautious when it comes to you and your son."

 

Fin nodded.  "Well, at least I have a worthy opponent now; one that is ethical for a change.  Did I tell you that Dean even helped hold that asshole at bay until security got there and then called 9-1-1 for me?"

 

Tony nodded thoughtfully.  "I have to admit I'm impressed; whatever happens in this election, I'll be grateful to your friend for that."

 

"Tony, we have a real fight on our hands now," Fin told him truthfully.  "Turner's efforts were almost laughable compared to Dean's credentials.  He is going to be tough to beat."  At Tony's look of incredulity, he corrected himself.  "I said tough - not impossible; we'll come out on top in the end, I'm sure of it."

 

"That's more like it," Tony told him with a smile.  "I have no doubt you will prevail, my love.  No doubts at all."  He gazed into Fin's tired eyes as he implored softly, "Now will you please get some rest, Senator?  For me?"

 

Fin nodded at him.  "Yes, Nurse," he said as Tony scooted over closer to him to lay his head against Fin's unaffected shoulder, needing that connection between them.  "Only if you do, too.  At least I'm sure my bed will be a lot softer than Stewart's tonight," he added just before he closed his eyes and allowed slumber to overtake him.

 



Same Time - 14th Precinct Police Headquarters - Downtown Harrisburg


Joe LaTaglia was your stereotypical detective - portly, 40-ish, slightly shorter than average height and carrying way too much weight around his girth - born of a love for his mother's homemade lasagna, Krispy Kreme donuts, and sticky slabs of meat from Bucky's Ribs House down the street.  He had long ago given up doing a comb over of the few tendrils of graying hair he had left, also, choosing instead to just smooth it down as best he could.  He also loved to chomp frequently on the butts of way too many cigars, casting a decided stench around the precinct interrogation room, partly because he enjoyed inhaling the aroma but also in an effort to unsettle whatever suspect he was questioning.

 

The desired effect seemed to be working on his present subject - a man who had been booked into the precinct after being arrested for trying to assault the son of Senator Fintan O'Connor earlier tonight.  Whether the son, Brian Kinney, was the intended target or the senator himself was one issue he was about to try and discern as he stared down at the wiry-looking man who was fidgeting in his chair, his hands curled into fists on top of the scuffed, wooden table.  He remained silent and motionless as he stared down at Stewart, knowing that typically his unyielding stature was normally more than enough to get a somewhat rattled suspect to reveal more information than they normally would.

 

To his disappointment, however, Stewart met his gaze unflinchingly with a similar expression of his own as he growled, "You can try and stand there and intimidate me all you want, Columbo; I'm not saying a thing until I have an attorney present.  I know my rights."

 

"Well, bully for you, Stewart," LaTaglia replied, his latest cigar clenched tightly between his teeth.  "No skin off my nose," he told the other man who peered up at him with thinly disguised disgust.  "I have all night.  Let's see how comfortable you remain sitting in that chair until he gets here, then."  He glanced over at another policeman standing silent sentry by the door.   Walking over to approach him, he asked nonchalantly, "Ready for some more coffee?  I feel a sudden urge for another latte from Starbucks."

 

"Sure," the other man told him with a smile, knowing LaTaglia's routine well.  His main goal was to unnerve the suspect into singing like a canary by making him as uncomfortable as possible.  Just because LaTaglia had to adhere to upholding the other man's rights didn't mean he had to make him feel like he was staying in a hotel, though.

 

"The usual?" LaTaglia asked as the other man nodded.  "I'll be back in a few minutes, then. He glanced over at Stewart as he added, "Take good care of our guest."

 

"I need to piss and I demand to call my attorney," Adam snarled from his place at the table.  "I've been sitting here for the past two fucking hours."

 

"Poor thing," LaTaglia snapped unsympathetically, unable to hold his patience back any longer with the other man.  He sighed heavily, however, knowing he could push things only so far without running the risk of being accused of trampling on his suspect's civil rights.  Turning to the other policeman, he advised him, "Take him to do his thing and park him back here.  I'll be back shortly."

 

The other man nodded as LaTaglia slipped out the door and headed to his office; he had no intention of going anywhere, but he wasn't going to tell Stewart that.  Let the fucker squirm a little more, he thought with disdain.  He didn't pretend to understand what it meant to be gay - being a big fan of political races and all the intricacies it entailed he had listened to O'Connor's public acknowledgment of his sexuality earlier as a mere interesting turn of events but it had meant nothing more to him personally - but he also had no room for intolerance, either.  And to stab someone merely because they didn't believe in the other's lifestyle?  If he lived by any credo in his own life, it was let bygones be bygones, and this type of moron really grated on his nerves.

 


 

Thirty minutes later, he brought a cup of the half-fresh coffee from the precinct's nearby coffeemaker to his colleague as he opened the interrogation room door and stepped back inside, observing Stewart now running his hands through his hair in agitated frustration.  There was still no sign of the man's attorney, he noted with interest.  He wasn't sure if that meant the man couldn't afford one or there had been some sort of delay.

 

Deciding to use it to his advantage in either case, he gave the other policeman his coffee before lumbering over to stand across from Stewart at the small, rectangular wooden table, the only illumination coming from two strips of fluorescent  light bulbs hanging overhead.  The garishness of the lighting cast a pallor over Stewart's face as LaTaglia loomed over him and stared down in disgust at the other man, his latest cigar butt clenched between his teeth.

 

"I told you," Stewart snapped as he lifted his gaze to glare up at the detective.  "I'm not saying a word until my attorney gets here.  You're wasting your time."

 

LaTaglia shrugged as he removed the remnant of his cigar to hold it between two stubby fingers.  "Your call.  But there were witnesses to what you did.  It's going to be an open and shut case, if you ask me.  You sure you want to be the only one to take the fall for something like this?  You're looking at some real serious jail time here, fella; and a pretty boy like you will be real popular in jail."

 

"Well, I didn't ask for your holier-than-thou opinion," Stewart told him tersely, feeling his brow breaking out into a cold, nervous sweat as he wiped the perspiration away from his face; the thought of being someone's ‘object of interest' in prison made his blood run cold.  He had never been inside a prison OR a police station before in his life, and having to call his father earlier to tell him where he was and the reason why he was there had been one of the most humiliating experiences of his life.  What he had initially hoped would be a huge pat on the back for his efforts had instead turned into a tongue lashing over his failure to carry out his initial plan; if he had succeeded his father would have been praising him lavishly for what he had done.  Instead, his father had berated him over his inadequacy to get the job done and his need to scrabble up enough money to provide him with counsel so his ass didn't wind up in a jail cell forever.  He sighed in disgust; how did such a lofty goal turn into being such a dismal failure?  And where was their family's fucking attorney?  Was his father purposely delaying coming here with the attorney just to punish him?

 

He watched as LaTaglia pulled back a hard, wooden chair on the opposite side of the table with a decided scrape and dropped his rather large girth unceremoniously onto the seat, his barrel-shaped legs hanging off to either side.  Although the idea to attack Kinney had been his idea and his alone, he had to grudgingly admit - the detective had a point.  If he was going down for what he did - if he was going to be subject to any jail time at all and it was beginning to appear that he very well might - there were still some players in this sordid game that had not risen to the surface; one in particular.  Perhaps it was time that this haughty, arrogant detective realize that his own ranks weren't so lily white, either, when it came to corruption.

 

"What would be in it for me?" he suddenly asked LaTaglia.

 

The detective slowly raised one eyebrow to eye the other man, purposely appearing nonchalant but celebrating his victory internally.  He had been around enough suspects before to know when they were going to crack, and this one was about to start singing like the jailbird he was.  "I'm promising nothing," he told him flatly as he reached over to grab a heavy, glass ashtray from the corner of the table to flick some cigar ashes into the basin.  He knew better than to promise any deals that might not be forthcoming; that could quite possibly backfire if he did.  His normal experience told him, however, that just dangling the idea out there typically was enough.  "But if you were to give us some information that might be helpful in some regard, well, then...it could only be to your advantage."  Wait for it, he silently told himself as he took a drag of his cigar and glanced off to the side, feigning disinterest.  Wait for it...


A few seconds later, he heard Stewart saying, "I'm not the only one who needs to be sitting here," and he knew he had him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

Thank you for your patience in my update to this story, as well as for all the well wishes for my recovery.  I am doing much better and I think it's in no small part to everyone's kindess on this site.  Thank you again.  I will get this updated again soon.  In the meantime, I hear two conniving twins calling my name....! 

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