"Yeah you made it through in all that you do
Even when the black & blue starts to set in
Oh You can try to push it all aside
But sooner or later life will pass you by
And in the end when the pain sets in
We'll find a way to take it in stride
And we get by yeah we're getting by"

- Black and Blue, Zach Chance (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mx4r8tSCduM)

When Brian woke up he was alone. For a moment he wondered if he hadn’t dreamt the encounter with Justin but then he realized he wasn’t in his own room, or rather the room he’d claimed as his own while he was living at Mel and Lindsay’s. Exhaling with relief that it hadn’t all been a dream, he reached a hand out to where Justin had been curled up beside him what felt like only moments before, but when he felt nothing but the coolness of the sheets his chest seized and he felt a sharp pang of fear that Justin had already left without saying goodbye. The anxiety faded when his ears detected the distinctly familiar sound of padded footsteps in the hall. He peered through heavy eyelids to see the creaky door open revealing Justin, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes locking with Brian’s before he closed the door behind him and moved across the room towards the bed. Brian watched him appreciatively, drinking in the slightly tousled hair and the sleepy look in his bright, blue eyes.

“What time is it?” Brian finally croaked, squinting slightly from the bright, diffuse sunlight that was coming through the sheer-curtained windows. He felt exhausted. It hadn’t been a restful night – though it had been a highly satisfying one.

“Seven,” Justin threw back the covers and the cocoon of warmth that had been wrapped tightly around Brian broke apart, the cool air a shock to his system. He involuntarily shivered before reaching out and grabbing Justin, dragging him down and then pulling the covers up over both their bodies.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he said, draping his arm across the blonde’s chest while he nuzzled his nose against the soft hairs in the crook of Justin’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of sex, sweat, shampoo, and soap.

“Gus is up,” Justin said quietly as his fingers threaded lightly through Brian’s hair.

“It would seem my days of sleeping in until noon are over,” Brian murmured, fighting the exhaustion that was slowly trying to entice him back into dreamland. He could easily submit to it with his arms around Justin, the body heat from the other man comforting and familiar. It would not be hard to drift off once more. His eyelids were already heavy, falling closed no matter how hard Brian struggled to keep them open.

“I heard him in the hall calling for you so I got him up. He’s downstairs putting the finishing touches on his card for Lindsay,” Justin rolled to his side and kissed Brian lightly on the lips. “He’s expecting me to bring you back downstairs.”

“Fuck,” Brian groaned, laughing softly when Justin lightly punched his stomach. Forcing open his eyes he yawned, offering a crooked smile at Justin.

“Stop it,” Justin kissed him again then pulled away. “Come on.”

“We don’t have time…?” Brian waggled his eyebrows as he tried to hold Justin down.  

The younger man wouldn’t have it though, and with a strength Brian was unprepared to counter he pulled away and stood from the bed, tossing Brian’s underwear at him, “Come on.”

Brian sighed and threw back the covers, gooseflesh immediately popping up on his body. Justin stood at the door waiting as he pulled on his shorts and then they stopped by his room so he could put on his own sweat pants and t-shirt before he followed Justin downstairs.

“Hey Sonny-boy,” Brian roughly ruffled Gus’s hair as he came into the kitchen, grinning as his son squirmed away, his expression morphing into annoyance.

“Want some waffles for breakfast?” Brian asked as he watched Justin take a seat at the table next to Gus. The two of them seemed not to hear him as their heads bowed together and they conferred in quiet voices about the card that Gus was still meticulously working on. One would think they were trying to recreate the Mona Lisa with the intensity they both seemed to have for the simple get well card. Shaking his head slightly, Brian turned to the task of making breakfast.

“Waffles,” he murmured, searching the cabinets for the waffle mix and the waffle iron, both of which he knew where hidden away somewhere.

Brian felt surprisingly comfortable in the kitchen, making waffles for his two boys as they sat at the table and worked. It felt incredibly natural, and Brian was shocked to find he didn’t feel the urge to ruin it. He was pretty sure it was because he was focusing on giving Gus some sense of normalcy but even still, it felt like a big step.

In between making waffles, Brian pulled down plates and silverware and got the orange juice out of the fridge, pouring Gus and Justin each a glass and setting them on the table. Justin looked up at him then, smiling, and Brian once again felt like this could all be real. He and Justin could actually live this way. But instead of bringing him a sense of joy, it brought the illusion crashing down and then Brian ruined it completely.

“What time is your flight?” Brian asked, not allowing himself to dwell in the imaginary scenario because the truth was, Justin was leaving and thinking about how things could be different would only make his departure all the more painful. Things weren’t going to be different, at least not now and who knew if ever, so there was no sense in pretending.

Justin’s expression morphed into confusion and Brian sighed inwardly. Justin had already allowed himself to accept things were different - that what had happened last night had changed things – even though Brian had explicitly said it hadn’t. Brian almost allowed himself to regret going to him in the night…almost.

“I’m not leaving,” Justin finally said, very slowly as his wide, blue eyes bored into Brian’s.

Brian sighed and Justin rose from the table.

“Brian…,” Justin’s tone was full of warning, as if he were, by speaking his name, telling him that in no uncertain terms was he going. That there was nothing Brian could do or say that could force him to go. He’d decided. He was staying. Brian saw Gus turn to watch them with wide-eyed with curiosity.

“Justin is leaving?” Gus said then, his face betraying disappointment and sadness that mirrored what Brian felt inside, but which he kept hidden.

“Yes,” he said at the same time Justin exclaimed, “No!”

“Yes,” Brian said again, looking at Justin pointedly. He felt his stubborn insistence bolstered by the younger man’s rebellious expression.

“I want you to go back,” Brian said, frustrated that he had to explain himself again, “I need you to go back.”

“You need you to go back,” Brian added after a pause. Nothing was different, nothing had changed. What he’d told him the previous night was all still true. He tried to convey that in his expression.

Brian watched Justin shake his head, mouth agape as he stared at him with a pained expression Brian didn’t like to see. He didn’t want to hurt Justin, ever. He wanted him to be happy – and that was precisely why he had to go back.  

“Please,” Brian said softly his eyes searching Justin’s, sloughing off all pretenses to make him understand why this was so important to him. Why he needed Justin to go away now so he could hopefully come back later, and for good.

“Daddy!” Gus’s shriek startled both Brian and Justin, who followed the anxious pointing finger of the little boy to see black smoke billowing from the waffle iron.

“Fuck!” Brian quickly unplugged the appliance before moving it swiftly to the sink where he dumped the burnt waffle, still smoking as it fell to the bottom of the porcelain, a stark contrast of black on white.

When Brian heard Gus laugh he turned to look and saw his son covering his mouth with his hands. Brian couldn’t help but elicit a chuckle at the sight and pretty soon all three of them were laughing together.

No more waffle incidents occurred as Brian finished making breakfast, the disagreement with Justin forgotten for the moment. Instead, when breakfast was ready the two men and Gus sat together at the table, telling knock-knock jokes and laughing. Brian tried to ignore the fact that Justin’s smile and eyes weren’t as bright as they’d been the night before.

For Brian, that breakfast was strangely one of the happiest moments he’d had in weeks; not since Justin had finally accepted his proposal - when they had stood together inside the estate he’d purchased (for his prince, he’d said), the warmth from the fire he’d built just barely reaching out its tendrils to warm the cold, dusty room. Brian still wasn’t sure he really ever wanted to get married but at that moment, in that house that symbolized the future, when he’d bared his soul to the man he loved and had been accepted for it, not rejected or laughed at, well, it had been a revelation. At that moment he had allowed himself to consider maybe he did deserve a small bit of happiness. It was short-lived of course, the happiness, as things between he and Justin changed and they both became vague shadows of who they really were, both trying to be something they weren’t for the benefit of the other.

But that moment also yielded something more. At Britin, as Justin had christened it, Brian learned acceptance. A seed was planted that allowed him to finally and truly accept another person’s love, openly and freely. He wasn’t quite aware it was there, but he knew enough to recognize that something in him had changed. Even when he tried to resist it, the seed persisted. It lingered inside, tickling at the back of his brain, attempting to take root and grow. He suppressed it, when he acknowledged it, yet still it grew stronger.

That’s how Brian knew that he would be truly capable, someday, of giving himself wholly to someone; to Justin. He hoped. Should Justin still want him.

So eating waffles and laughing with his son and his blonde Sunshine – at that moment he was happy. It was a glimpse of a possible future taking place right before his eyes. Even under the tragic circumstances that had brought them together in that place. But it was food and water and shelter for that seed – all the things required for it to survive - and whether Brian realized it or not, the seed was growing stronger.

After eating, Justin cleared the dishes while Gus showed Brian the card he had made for Lindsay. It was quite good, for being drawn and written by a four-and-a-half year-old little boy. Brian could see Justin’s hand on it too, but it was, in the end, done by Gus.

The outside boasted the typical “Get Well” slogan, the letters colored in the spectrum of the rainbow, fancy embellishments on each letter. Inside the card was a child’s rendering of Lindsay, Brian, and Gus in a park, not unlike the sketch Justin did on Gus’s cast. What caught Brian’s attention though was the inclusion of Melanie, floating in the sky above them. When Gus questioned if his mommy would like it, Brian had no doubt in answering. She would love it he’d replied, and probably cry he thought to himself.

When Brian sent Gus upstairs to wash up and get dressed for the day, he and Justin just stared at each other in silence for several minutes. Brian knew what was coming – they had an unfinished disagreement to clear up. Steeling his shoulders Brian hardened his expression and waited for what was coming.

“I know you want me to go-,” Justin started, but before he could continue Brian cut him off.

“We talked about this,” Brian said with a sigh, “you can’t have any doubts. No regrets, and if you don’t go back you’ll regret it, and this,” Brian gestured between them, “would fail.”

“How do you know? Maybe what I’ll regret more is not fucking staying!” Justin replied, his tone laced with frustration.

Brian didn’t respond. He just stared at Justin and waited for the younger man to come to the realization on his own. Brian didn’t want to voice how he knew…and everything in him hated even thinking about how he knew because when he allowed himself to think about it, it simply hurt. It hurt because every time Justin had left him in the past, it had boiled down to the younger man having doubts, and regrets, and desires that Brian wouldn’t fulfill. He couldn’t live through that again. Not now.

Brian wasn’t one to live in the past but with Justin and New York and everything going on in the younger man’s life he had too – their past informed everything between them in the present; and maybe they didn’t have to necessarily live in it, but they had to be cognizant of it. Everything between them had been shaped and formed by the years of discovery they’d lived, both together and separate from each other. For Justin, the journey wasn’t even close to being over; and while it wasn’t over for Brian either, Brian had lived through most of it already – enough at least to know who he was, and enough to know that Justin hadn’t figured that out yet for himself – at least not fully. That was why he had to go; he had to find out who he was separate from Brian and Pittsburgh and everything that could possibly hold him back. He had to realize his full potential now – had to live this opportunity out to its conclusion, whatever and whenever that was, before he could ever be truly happy coming back to Brian.

If that was even still something he would want by the time he was ready…and that was a risk Brian was willing to take. He was once again taking a chance on love.

“I know,” Justin finally said with a breathy exhale, his expression clouded as he avoided Brian’s gaze. “Fuck. I know.”

Not quite an hour later, Justin’s bag was packed and at the door while he and Gus put a few finishing touches on the card. Justin had embellished it with a decorative border, and was helping Gus shade the border with some blue crayons. Brian watched them together, marveling at how easy Gus was with Justin, and how easy Justin was with Gus.

If only…

No.

As Brian had to continue reminding himself, if there was to be any hope of he and Justin coming together again, then Justin had to do this, on his own. Brian was stubbornly certain of that, even as he continually tried to talk himself out of it. It was going to be hard as hell to let him go; already it hurt like a motherfucker to have him so close only to have to watch, willingly, as he walked away. But this time was different, and Brian tried very hard to believe it. This time it wasn’t because of a fiddler, or Cancer, or Hollywood, or future dreams never to be realized should they stay together. It was in the hope their separate paths would bring them back together again.

When the car horn honked a few minutes later, Brian felt a tug at his heart. Heaviness, unlike any he’d felt since Justin’s first departure, gripped him with its finality. He tried desperately to remain hopeful but a small part of him was certain this would be a final goodbye.

At the table where he sat with Gus, Brian saw Justin stiffen at the sound before turning to look at Brian with the unasked question in his eyes; Are you sure? Brian nodded, watching as Justin closed his eyes before he stood slowly.

“Time for me to go,” he said softly, touching Gus’s hair with an affection that gave Brian pause.

“I don’t want you to go,” Gus said with a mournful voice.

“I know buddy, but I’ll see you again soon,” Justin said softly, looking at Brian momentarily before he started towards the door.

“Everyone leaves,” Gus said softly.

Justin was already at the door and apparently out of earshot as he didn’t react to Gus’s desperate statement. Brian did hear it though and his worry for his son, which had been easy to set aside when the house was full of people to distract him from the recent loss, renewed itself. Maybe he wasn’t doing as well as Brian had previously thought.

“Come on, Sonny-boy,” Brian gently pressed Gus, nudging him towards the open front door. Brian could see the narrow form of Justin just over the threshold, his back to the house as he waved at the cab idling on the street.

For a March day in Toronto it was surprisingly warm and Brian felt just a slight chill in the air as he came out the door. Justin turned then, wrapping his arms tight around Brian's neck and pressing his lips to his ear.

"I love you," he whispered.

Brian's gut contracted painfully and he felt the same three words form on his tongue. He wanted to say it back so badly, but he couldn't make the words take form. So he swallowed the declaration and wrapped his arms tighter around the younger man, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He memorized the feel of him, unsure of when or if he’d see him again. Unsure that when or if he did see him again that something like this would even be allowed.

Justin let go after a long moment, avoiding Brian’s gaze as he crouched down and gave Gus a hug. He whispered something to the little boy and then both of them looked at Brian with co-conspiratorial smiles before Justin stood. He looked between Brian and Gus for a few more moments before he turned and started down the walk to the street where the taxi waited to take him to the airport.

Brian felt a wave of panic, a sudden fear that this really was it - the last time he'd ever see Justin and he couldn't let him go – not without knowing...

"Justin!" Brian called out, hoping the blonde hadn’t heard the hint of desperation in his voice. He took one step down from the wood porch as Justin, halfway down the walk, turned to look at him. His name was rarely spoken but often thought, and the feel of it was sweet on Brian’s tongue.

He tried then. He opened his mouth, intending to say those three words that had only crossed his lips maybe a dozen times prior, but still no sound would emerge. Pressing his lips together, he breathed deeply before he tried again but still, nothing.

Justin stood silent, watching, a smile playing on his lips. When he nodded, flashing his trademark 'sunshine' grin, Brian exhaled with some relief. He had gotten it; he had understood what Brian was trying to say.

Knowing that made watching him get into the cab and leave somehow bearable.

After Justin’s departure, Brian secured Gus in front of the television with the promise that he wouldn’t move or answer the phone or the door, before he went upstairs to get ready for another day. With Justin gone, Brian was now the sole adult in the house with Gus and for a few moments, alone in the shower, he allowed himself to feel panic. He was now responsible, every day, all day, for feeding, and caring, and watching his young son. He’d done it before, for hours at time but never like what he was facing. He wasn’t scared, per se, rather unsure of what to expect. He realized as he dressed how much he relied on Deb, and Justin, to keep an eye on Gus – particularly during the day when Brian had work to take care of. He made a mental note to contact a nanny service to see about getting someone into the house during the day so he could at least continue making money. Thankfully, Cynthia and Ted had been incredibly helpful in keeping Kinnetik running in Brian’s absence and he felt grateful to have such loyal employees he could trust. Still, there were certain decisions and meetings and papers that only Brian could handle, so it wasn’t like he could simply beg off keeping his fingers on the pulse of his business.

Brian showered and dressed as fast as he could manage and found, when he descended the stairs, that Gus had remained glued to the spot Brian had left him. The two of them then gathered up their things, Gus cradling the card he’d made carefully against his chest, and they ventured back out into the world, off to visit Lindsay.

As he drove to the hospital, Brian tried to get Gus to spill what it was Justin had said to him, but Gus only giggled and shook his head, pulling his lips into his mouth in a way that Brian recognized instantly. Letting the secret go for the moment, Brian just smiled, enjoying the amusement his son got from having his secret.

At the hospital, Brian sat Gus in the waiting room chairs while he asked at the nurses station after Doctor Patch. While they waited, Gus just stared down at the card he’d made – opening and closing it over and over again. Brian tried to suppress the persistent worry that was starting to grow larger by the moment. Gus was suddenly very quiet, and very serious. Brian tried to convince himself the kid was just tired, that he wasn’t feeling like everyone in his life was abandoning him, one person at a time.

He waited anxiously for the Doctor, feeling unsure of what to expect from Lindsay, post-surgery. What he did know was there was a tiny bubble of excitement, struggling to rise up from within. The thought that possibly, within the next few days, Lindsay might feel something, that her legs might be returned to her, was overwhelming. He hoped for that, not only for Lindsay but for Gus and selfishly, for himself. He knew she would be okay no matter the outcome; she was strong and would find a way to live her life fully even if she never walked again. Brian though…he wasn’t sure what affect that particular outcome might have on him. Would he be expected to take her in, to care for her? It’s not that he wouldn’t do it, or that he didn’t want to do it, but it was a lot to think about. Again, selfishly, he couldn’t help but map out in his mind how Lindsay’s condition, wheelchair versus no wheelchair, would impact his life and his freedom. The weight of the responsibility he was assuming he’d be asked to take on was heavy indeed.

When Doctor Patch finally came out to talk, Brian was suitably worked up, having waited nearly 30 minutes. His imagination had run wild and it was all he could do to not shake the doctor senseless as he prattled on about the surgery itself. Brian didn’t really care about that, he just wanted to know the outcome which, unfortunately, was the one thing that no one could speak of – at least not yet.

Brian didn’t understand everything the doctor told him, but he understood enough to know that Lindsay had a long road ahead of her. Her L5 had been partially separated, but according to the doctor it wasn’t a complete injury – meaning the spinal cord had not been severed - and so there was hope for recovery. He was quick to assure Brian that because it was the L5, the bottommost vertebrae that rests at the base of the spine, there was a high possibility for Lindsay to recover some mobility, and a slightly lower possibility that she would recover all mobility. Doctor Patch refused to give figures or percentages or provide any measure of probability of successful recovery, which annoyed Brian greatly. But – he held on to the hope that she very well could walk again, as if she’d never been injured. The doctor reminded Brian that the fact that she had felt some tingling in her hips prior to the surgery was also a good indicator that she may yet regain use of her legs. Doctor Patch was careful to express cautiousness in his optimism, but Brian didn’t need that kind of handling – he was not an optimist at heart and so any good news that he received would be taken with at least one grain of salt.

The last thing the doctor told him was that as of that morning, Lindsay had not yet regained any feeling in her legs. But - the doctor was adamant it was not a reason to lose hope. It was still very early, and they should know within the next week or so, if the surgery had repaired any of the nerve damage. It would be much longer before they’d know if she would recover any use of her legs. That, he told Brian, would depend on Lindsay’s motivation to walk again, and how hard she was willing to work. Doctor Patch strongly suggested Brian encourage Lindsay to continue to be hopeful all through her recovery. He also told Brian he was convinced a positive outlook could have beneficial effects on the patient. Brian tried not to roll his eyes, but he agreed to do his best to keep Lindsay’s mood positive and her outlook hopeful.

Doctor Patch then recommended Lindsay begin her physical therapy and rehabilitation with the specialists at Toronto General, and after a few weeks she would be strong enough to safely travel back to Pittsburgh where she could be set up with a more permanent physical therapist at a residential rehabilitation center.

Brian listened to all of this with a growing apprehension. It was a rare thing, for him to have to be the adult, the responsible party. But he was. Truly, now he was. Justin was gone and it was only him. He had to take care of Gus, and now he had to take care of Lindsay. He fought the urge to bolt – to seek comfort and escape in sex, fucking as many nameless men as he could find. That wouldn’t make what he was now dealing with go away, and he was a fucking 33-year-old man who owned a successful business. If he couldn’t manage to keep his shit together now then there really was no hope for him. Swallowing his flight response, Brian thanked the doctor and with Gus in tow, headed to see the mother of his son, and his best friend – other than Mikey of course.

Brian could hear her from the hallway as they approached her room. He looked down at Gus, walking beside him with his uninjured hand in Brian’s, his other hand gripped the card he’d made.

Brian could only hope she wasn’t too upset because at this point there was no way he could deter Gus from getting to his mom and delivering his special card. Bracing himself for what could be a potentially upsetting scene, he and Gus came upon her room and crossed over the threshold. Brian exhaled with some relief.

She was obviously upset, but it appeared they’d missed the worst of it. Her eyes were red and she held a crumpled tissue in her hand but there were no more tears, at least at the moment. She raised her head to look at them as they entered and Brian watched her face break out into a brilliant smile that quickly contorted into tears.

Brian felt Gus begin to pull away from him, but he held on to his hand, holding him back.

“Mommy?” his voice was scared, and Brian cursed inwardly.

“It’s alright Sonny-boy, she’s just happy to see us,” Brian leaned down and scooped Gus up in his arms, “right Lindsay?”

Apparently she was of a sound enough mind to agree, because she grinned wide again before nodding and pulling new tissues from the box that rested on her stomach and wiping her eyes. Brian watched her, plainly seeing her struggle to regain her composure. He wanted to laugh because he knew as soon as she saw the card that Gus had made for her she’d be in tears once more.

Brian approached the bed, taking in Lindsay’s still form. She was still lying back, though her upper body was slightly angled. There were no signs, other than a heart-rate and pulse-ox monitor, that she had even been in surgery a first time, let alone a second time.

“Remember, no climbing or laying on mommy,” Brian said softly, setting Gus down on the edge of the bed, his tiny legs hanging over the edge.

He nodded at Brian before turning to flash his brilliant smile at Lindsay.

“I made this for you,” he said proudly, thrusting the card out at her while kicking his legs in the air.

“Oh,” Lindsay’s eyes widened as she gingerly fingered the card, holding it as if were made of spun glass and would break if held too tight.

“It’s beautiful,” she added. Brian could see pools welling up in her eyes and smiled, shaking his head. He wanted to tease her, to provide his own brand of “Brian Kinney distraction”, but it was too sweet. He didn’t want to spoil the moment for either mother or son.

When she opened the card though, Brian saw her strength fade a bit, flicker. Her eyes welled over and tears silently fell as her dark brown eyes absorbed the scene Gus had drawn.

Looking to Gus, Brian observed his son watching Lindsay closely; expectantly.

“It’s mama,” he said finally, crawling up on the bed and laying down beside Lindsay. Brian felt a moment of terror, his son moving so fast he didn’t have time to stop him. He breathed a sigh of relief when Gus didn’t attempt to crawl on top of his mother, instead curling up against her shoulder.

“She’s an angel now, right mommy?” Gus ‘s hair, brown and wild like Brian’s, was a stark contrast to the soft, muted hues of blond that framed Lindsay’s head. They both turned to look at each other and Lindsay smiled.

“Yeah buddy, she is,” her eyes met Brian’s for a brief moment before going back to the card.

“This is the best medicine I could possibly have,” she said after several long minutes.

“My two favorite men,” she turned her head to smother Gus with messy kisses, and Brian tried to ignore the pained expression on her face. No doubt she was sore as hell, not just physically - having endured two surgeries - but emotionally too. She had barely had time to deal with Melanie’s death. Brian could only assume that all those emotions were beginning to catch up with her.

“Stop it!” Gus exclaimed, laughing. Brian couldn’t help but smile too – his son’s protestation not quite fierce enough to be believed.

“Where’s Justin?” Lindsay asked then, her eyes on Brian, the smile on her face slowly fading.

“He’s gone back to New York,” Brian tried to act ambivalent, but was pretty sure Lindsay could see through it.

“Why?”

“Because I told him too,” Brian shrugged as Lindsay sighed.

“Brian-,” she started but something in Brian’s expression must have given her pause because she stopped herself, shaking her head. “I wish you wouldn’t do that to him.”

“I’m not doing anything to him. He needs to live his life. I’m letting him.”

“Speaking from a place I hope you never find yourself – his life is you. Everything else is just…,” Lindsay’s eyes shifted from Brian to Gus and back again, “just bull s-h-i-t.”

“Mommy, you spelled shit,” Gus smirked and both Lindsay and Brian burst with laughter.

“Smart kid,” Brian grinned.

His heart was heavy, though, Lindsay’s words rolling around in his head. He was still convinced he’d done the right thing, sending Justin back to live out his dream, or fantasy, or whatever it turned out to be. But what if he wasn’t right?

“I love you, Gus,” Lindsay said then, “and I love this card. I will keep it forever.”

Gus looked at Brian then, his face beaming with joy. Brian pushed thoughts of Justin and New York out of his head, focusing on his kid instead. Offering a wink Brian reached out to ruffle Gus’s already wild hair, earning another giggle for it.

Ten minutes later Gus was seated in the chairs under the windows, working on the coloring book that Brian had left in the room as a distraction. He had moved a chair up next to Lindsay’s bedside and they were talking in hushed tones. Brian kept casting furtive glances towards Gus, hoping they really couldn’t be overheard by his small ears.

“It hit me today,” she said, her red were eyes swollen and still leaking tears. “She’s really, truly gone. I just,” she stopped then, her eyes searching Brian’s for…he didn’t know what. Comfort? Assurance?

“I can’t really believe it,” she finally finished.

“I didn’t want to leave Pittsburgh, you know,” she smiled sadly at Brian, and his stomach churned unpleasantly.

“I knew it was important to Mel, and a part of me thought it might be the best thing for us,” she paused to wipe her eyes. “That it might be best for the kids.”

Brian bit back the anger that was stirring within him. If he’d known Lindsay had been having doubts he wouldn’t have been so quick to succumb to her entreaties that he let them leave. He wondered, fleetingly, how hard he would have had to push back in order for the munchers to have remained. Of course, that wasn’t the Kinney way. He never wanted to be the reason anyone held back from doing what they wanted to do…but if it had meant keeping Gus close to him would he have made an exception?

“I didn’t know that,” he said quietly, and Lindsay must have heard something in his tone because her eyes widened slightly and she smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I had made up my mind before we ever talked to you and Michael. When you said you wanted Gus to stay a part of me was glad. I didn’t want to leave everyone. I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to take Gus from you.”

Brian nodded, cocking his eyebrow and posing the question silently, then why?

“Mel convinced me, after you guys left,” she shook her head. “That’s all I can offer. And it hurts to think that if I’d just held my ground, gone with my gut instinct, this accident might not have happened. Mel would be here with us, I wouldn’t be in this damn bed unsure if I’m ever going to walk again. Gus wouldn’t be,” her voice caught and she paused, breathing deeply. “Gus wouldn’t be hurt.”

“No regrets,” Brian murmured, biting back a smile as Lindsay rolled her eyes.

“Fuck you,” she breathed, but Brian thought he saw a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“It’s just all so fucked up,” she sighed, “and it’s kind of my fault.”

“Fuck that. No,” Brian reached a hand out to stroke her hair, “this is not your fault. It was an accident, Lindsay. Pure and simple and no one’s fault.”

“Everything was coming together for us. We found a great house, I found the perfect job at a gallery downtown, Mel was just about to start the process of getting her legal license validated here,” she looked away from Brian then, her eyes flitting to Gus. Brian followed her stare and they both watched him, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he focused on what he was doing.

“Gus and JR,” Lindsay stared up at the ceiling. “Fuck. JR will never know her mother.”

“She’ll have you, though,” Brian countered. He was not the typical go-to guy for comfort and affirmations, but this was Lindsay, and this was more than just hurt feelings or petty arguments. She’d lost the love of her life and it was understandable that she was struggling. Hell, if Brian lost Justin…fuck, he would be worthless. Just the thought, the idea, of a world without Sunshine in it was enough to put a vice grip of pain on Brian’s heart.

No, Lindsay had every right to feel lost and hurt and alone. And Brian had to do whatever he could to help. No matter how uncomfortable or unprepared for the task he felt.

“Will she have me though?” Lindsay asked, her brow furrowed in concern.  “Are you sure about that?”

Brian shrugged and nodded, “Yeah, why not?”

“Michael?”

Brian sighed. He had to believe that after the ridiculous fight over JR that had occurred only months earlier, that the two of them could manage to come to an agreement; could manage to work together for the best interest of JR.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Brian shrugged off the concern, hopeful that Lindsay would buy into his nonchalant attitude. “You should put this energy into healing.”

“Will you talk to him?” she asked, undeterred.

“Yes, I’ll talk to him,” he replied, lifting her hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the smooth skin.

She laughed then, squeezing his hand. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Lindsay’s smile slowly started to fade. Brian could sense there was more she wanted from him, and he immediately grew slightly nervous.

“Can you do something else for me,” she pulled his hand to her chest, trapping it with her other hand. “Can you call my parents?”

Brian couldn’t help but express shock at the request. As far as Brian knew, Lindsay hadn’t talked to her parents, or her sister, since just before JR was born. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms.

“I know,” she closed her eyes and sighed. “But they don’t know what happened and…shit…I feel responsible to at least notify them.”

With a barking laugh Brian shook his head. “Sure,” he could only imagine the way the conversation would go and he wasn’t sure which elder Peterson he’d rather talk too, Lindsay’s bitch mother or her spineless father.

“I love you, Peter,” she said softly then, pulling Brian’s hand to her mouth and returning the affectionate gesture he had bestowed upon her moments before.

“You too, Wendy,” Brian smiled.

Brian hadn’t known what to expect when he called The Peterson’s later that night. He had expected some push-back as he knew neither of Lindsay’s parents had ever liked him very much. Though there had been that moment in the summer of 1992 when he and Mr. Peterson had bonded briefly over soccer in the Summer Olympics. Brian had played all through high school as well as on the club team at the University. It was just for fun, soccer wasn’t a big scholarship sport which was unfortunate because Brian truly believed he had been good enough he could have earned a scholarship.

When the USA soccer team failed to make the finals, losing to Italy in the first round of play, Brian had thrown his support to the home team, Spain. When Lindsay invited him over to her house to watch the Gold medal match he and her dad, who had also apparently played some high school and college soccer, had spent the entire game talking strategy and lamenting the status of soccer in the US. When Spain won the Gold Medal match, Brian and Mr. Peterson had shared a moment of joy. It was the first time in Brian’s life that any adult male had shown any kind of interest in the one sport he played, and played well. And it hadn’t even been him playing. It had also been the one and only time Brian had felt any kind of kinship with either of Lindsay’s parents, and now a part of him hoped it was Mr. Peterson who answered.

As luck would have it, it was Mr. Peterson who answered the phone. Brian started off by assuaging his fears that Lindsay or Gus were seriously hurt (Lindsay didn’t want them to know about the spinal cord injury just yet) before he told him of the accident, and Melanie’s death.

To his credit, Ron Peterson was receptive and cordial to Brian, though he thought he sensed an undercurrent of animosity which only grew when Brian passed along the rest of Lindsay’s message. She didn’t want them to come to Toronto. She would see them when she was back in Pennsylvania in a few months time.

Brian could tell her dad wanted to argue, but he held back. Thankful he wouldn’t have to play the asshole, Brian promised to relay to her the message that they would like to talk to her, and he hung up the phone as quickly as he could.

The diner felt familiar, it was a place not unlike the Liberty Diner. The vinyl covered benches the same shade of green; the cheap Formica table tops the same shade of red; the servers the same breed of flamboyant queer.  Brian felt immediately comfortable and safe within its bright blue walls which featured old Toronto tourism posters, all of them faded and yellowed from the passage of time.

The place was called Rosie’s, apparently named for the grandmother of the owner , who was the first gay man to successfully navigate, and survive, the shark infested waters of restaurant ownership. It was difficult to open, maintain, and succeed in the business regardless of sexual orientation – but add being gay into the mix and it really was a Cinderella story. The original owner, Rosie’s grandson, was long since gone from the world, but the name of the diner remained as ownership of the diner passed to the next gay man willing to take on the challenge; it was a form of celebration, a way that those who followed could honor the man who had blazed the trail. There had been four owners of Rosie’s diner through the years, and though the furniture might leave much to be desired there was nowhere else that could beat the welcoming warmth that greeted Brian when he first stepped inside; not even the Liberty Diner felt as cozy. The place was obviously a safe haven, a communal gathering spot for the gay community of Toronto.

Lindsay and Melanie had discovered the greasy spoon their second night in Toronto, taking it upon themselves to seek out as many places as they could that would remind them of home and help make the transition easier. Thus, when Brian asked Lindsay for any suggestions of places to take Gus that weren’t the ridiculously terrible pizza place with the plastic, singing animals, she’d laughed then told him of Rosie’s.

It didn’t hurt that Gus loved going, and so Brian started taking them there every evening. After working through the morning while the nanny he’d hired kept Gus occupied, he and Gus would have a small lunch at the house then go to the hospital to visit Lindsay before her afternoon physical therapy session. Leaving the hospital, Brian would then take Gus to the park where he’d watch him play, sometimes with other children and sometimes alone. Hell, sometimes Brian would bring along a soccer ball and the two of them would kick it between them. Those were his favorite afternoons.

Finally, after expending enough energy to compensate for the extraordinarily high-caloric food that was always served in diners, he and Gus would head to Rosie’s. Some nights they would bring a piece of the infamous Rosie’s Chocolate Cake back to the hospital for Lindsay and share it between them; she was addicted to it, or so she told Brian.

On the fifth night of this new schedule Brian took Gus out to the diner once again.  Brian and Gus were quickly becoming known to the staff of the diner. The pink-haired twink that had served them their first night there led them to a booth before leaving them with a wink. The twink was just a kid, probably not even 18 yet, and definitely not Brian’s type, but he always appreciated the flirtatious efforts; or at least, he appreciated it most of the time.  

Gus, who always ordered the chicken fingers from the kid’s menu, immediately began coloring on the back of the paper placemat he was given. Brian, perusing the menu and deciding to give the seafood platter a try, set aside his menu just as he noticed a man intently staring at him.   Brian, who wasn't above picking up a trick when out to dinner, was certainly not in the mood to do so when his young son was with him. Sending a patented 'I'm not interested' headshake accompanied by an icy stare, Brian was surprise to see the man just smile. He was even more surprised when the man stood and approached their table.

Gus, involved in the puzzle game on the back of his placemat, paid no attention as the man approached. Brian however, stared at him with a look he knew conveyed nothing that could be considered in the least bit friendly.  

“What?” He asked, obviously agitated and trying to be as unfriendly as possible without scaring Gus or outright cursing at the stranger.  

“I was hoping I'd see you again,” he said, still smiling, though there was something in his smile that gave Brian pause and reason to doubt the actual validity of that sentiment.  

At the sound of the new voice Gus glanced up. He examined the man with a curious look while Brian just narrowed his eyes with irritation.  

“Cute kid,” he said, smiling at Gus. Brian glanced at his son and silently agreed but didn't bother to answer out loud.  

“Do I know you?” Brian finally asked as he returned his gaze to the man who was now looking back down at Brian.  

“We met about two weeks ago,” he paused, glancing quickly at Gus before continuing, “at Vertigo.”  

Brian remained silent but was somewhat strangely relieved to have at least one face to put to the likely several guys he'd fucked that night; as sore as his dick had been the following day he knew he had to have done several guys. The thought brought him a moment of shame before he shrugged it off. What was done was done. Instead of lamenting his irresponsible and stupid behavior he shifted his eyes and examined the man who stood before him, not bothering to hide the fact that he was essentially checking him out. He was fairly tall and older, in his mid-40s maybe. He was thin, with lean legs, a narrow torso, and he had a nice face with a head of thick, dark brown hair - so dark it appeared nearly black. Not bad, Brian thought. Though he was older than what Brian usually went for, he could see why he’d gone after this guy – especially in the dark, flashy-lighting of a dance club. Everyone looked younger and more attractive in that environment. While Brian conducted his once over the smile slowly slipped from the stranger’s face.  

“Sam Fairfield,” he held out his hand and for a moment Brian just stared at it before ever so slowly he reached out to shake it. H didn’t offer his own name.  

“What did you give me that night?” Brian asked instead, his tone accusatory.  

Sam just shook his head, “You were already flying high when I approached you.”  

Brian just nodded, intrigued. So? This guy had approached him. That wasn’t unusual but the mood he’d been in that night had been predatory so he was a little surprised he had allowed himself to get picked up.  

Brian moved his eyes to his son, watching as he used a bright orange crayon to trace his way through the simple maze that was the centerpiece of the placemat the pink-haired server had set before him.  

“Look, I have to tell you something,” Sam started. His expression had lost any pretense of casual pleasantries and his tone was suddenly, unnervingly serious. Brian felt a tiny wave of uneasiness swirl in his gut.  

“Now?” Brian questioned, trying to sound unconcerned but not sure he’d pulled it off convincingly. Of course this man was a stranger and he didn’t know Brian from Tom, Dick, or Harry so maybe he did sound convincing…  

“It’s important. I've been looking for you since that night but you haven't been back to the club,” the guy, Sam, said. He shuffled on his feet and the tug of nervous anxiety grew stronger in Brian’s belly. He looked at Gus then. He seemed to be paying no attention to the two men, now engrossed in a connect-the-dots drawing game.  

“Priorities,” Brian replied vaguely as he looked back up at the other man.   Sam nodded in apparent understanding.  

“The day after we…you know,” he paused and motioned between them with his hand, “my ex informed me that he had been with someone else.”  

“So?” Brian cocked his eyebrow and waited expectantly for the part that had anything to do with him. He really didn’t see how what the ex of this one-time trick did had anything to do with him.  

“So this someone was positive,” Sam’s eyes shifted from Brian to Gus and back again. He half-shrugged as if to apologize.  

Brian maintained his expression, still not quite seeing what this had to do with him.  

“They were together au naturale,” Sam continued, “and then he and I had a…well, we were together in what I can only call a colossal mistake of epic proportions. But both of these times were before you and I…”  

His voice trailed off and Brian closed his eyes, clearly seeing now where this was leading.  

“Your friend?” Brian opened his eyes and asked softly.  

“Tested and waiting for results,” Sam sighed.  

“You?” Brian asked.  

“Same,” Sam shrugged.  

Brian grinned then. This was most unexpected and he knew if he didn’t laugh, he might go into a fit of rage instead - ironically. The last thing he needed was to create a scene, and certainly not in front of Gus.  

“Look, I know this is a shitty thing to tell someone, especially here,” both men looked to Gus, “and even though the chances are very slim since I always use a condom and always require my partner to do the same, you should still probably get tested. I’m just glad I saw you, and recognized you. Though in fairness, you are quite hard to forget.”  

Brian barely heard him, instead the movie in his mind replaying over and over the last night he’d spent with Justin.  

Fuck. Justin.  

“Right,” Brian said absently, not in the mood to hear how he was God’s gift to gay men, and the best lay this guy had had, blah, blah, blah, the song remains the same.  

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, “and if circumstances were different I’d ask to see you again...-,”  

“Sorry’s bullshit and I don't do repeat appearances. Even if it were different circumstances,” Brian interrupted, practically spitting the words, his mood sour. He wanted nothing more than for the guy to leave them the hell alone. He diverted his attention back to the menu - even though he knew what he was ordering. What felt like several minutes but what was probably only 30 seconds passed before Brian heard Sam walk away.  

“Daddy, my arm itches again,” Gus said then, oblivious to the conversation that had taken place over his head. He looked at Brian, his brow drawn in concern. Brian suppressed a grin as he picked up the large soup spoon from beside him.  

“Hold out your arm,” Brian reached out and grasped the tiny fingers that were protruding from the bright blue cast, “where?”  

Gus pointed to the top of his forearm, right in the middle of the cast.  

“Okay, ready?” Brian forced a grin as he cocked an eyebrow. Gus grinned back in response, nodding.  

With a wink, Brian gently tapped the round underside of the spoon against the cast, the tapping noise attracting a few looks from the other customers around them. Brian ignored their curious stares as he watched Gus open his mouth wide and giggle.  

“Me now,” Gus held out his uninjured arm and Brian passed him the spoon.  

“Remember, not too hard,” he said, bemused as he watched his son nod before lightly tapping the spoon against the cast.  

With a sigh, Brian casually turned his head to look at the people around him. Most of them had turned their attention back to their meals or their conversations; most of them except a man in a booth seated across the room; Sam. His eyes remained trained on Brian, and with another heavy sigh it all came crashing back.  

Gus, done tapping the spoon had resumed his coloring and so Brian turned his attention to the newspaper he had brought with him as he spread out before him.  

To anyone who might be looking, it would seem he was engrossed in learning about all the current events within the greater Toronto area, and though his eyes were trained on the paper in apparent concentration his mind was really elsewhere, thinking about the phone call he had to make, and the appointment he had to schedule.

Brian considered his options for a few days.

In between work,  visits to Lindsay, and taking Gus to the park, and then to the library when a heavy spring snow made going to the park impossible, he let what Sam had told him bounce around in his head. Truth be told, he was feeling a little disgusted with himself. He had fucked hundreds of guys, of that there was no doubt, and a part of him was a bit frightened to consider what the actual number might be… But the one thing he prided himself on was that he was always safe, and because he knew accidents happened and condoms weren’t 100% effective against certain STDs, he was always regular in getting tested for everything, including HIV. He knew things would be a lot less complicated if he just stopped fucking around – but he didn’t want too.

Brian never did anything he didn’t want to do; not even when his health was on the line.

He wasn’t due for his next HIV test for a few more months and if not for the real fear of potentially hurting Justin with his stupidity, he would seriously consider just blowing off the warning and waiting anyway. But that would be the stupidest thing he could possibly do, especially after Melanie’s death and with Lindsay bed-ridden for likely months herself. He had to be there for Gus, and wholly there for Gus – no distractions.

Plus…Justin.

So Brian called the hospital and scheduled a blood test to coincide with his visits to see Lindsay. He could leave Gus with her long enough to get his blood drawn. Surprisingly, they were able to get Brian in the following day.

That morning, as he sat eating breakfast with Gus, his phone chirped to remind him of an appointment. He couldn’t recall that he had anything scheduled for the day; his calendar for Kinnetik was uncharacteristically empty for the next few days. Thus, when he looked at the phone he felt startled at what the reminder was telling him.

“Justin’s birthday,” Brian whispered; how could he forget? Precious few dates were etched into Brian’s memory; Gus’s birthday, his birthday (though for reasons other than celebratory), and Justin’s birthday were just a few that were stuck in his head, permanently marking the passage of time each year when they rolled around.

“It’s Justin’s birthday?” Brian saw Gus turn to him, his eyes wide. “Can I call him and tell him happy birthday? Can I?”

Brian couldn’t resist smiling as he nodded at his son, “Later.”

Gus grinned and bounced in his seat, “I’m gonna make him a card, too. Will you help me, daddy?”

“Yeah, sure thing Sonny-boy,” Brian answered, distractedly. What a day. Justin’s birthday…and Brian’s HIV test.

“Daddy?”

“Hmmm,” Brian watched Gus seem to contemplate asking what looked to be a very serious question.

“Is Justin as old as you now?”

Brian barked laughter, feeling some of the tension of the last few days ease up just slightly with the release.

“Not quite,” he replied.

“Oh,” Gus nodded, stabbing his fork into the half-eaten waffle on his plate.

“Is he gonna have a birthday party?” he asked then, his expression seeming to betray some serious concern.

“I doubt it,” Brian shrugged, suddenly not sure he wanted to know what Justin might be doing to celebrate. He was 22 years old now. Damn. Brian couldn’t help but grin. That little blonde twink was growing up – becoming a man.

“I wish he was still here,” Gus said sadly. Brian bit his lips, suddenly losing his appetite. He stood then, taking his plate to the sink and dumping his half-eaten breakfast down the drain. He could hear Gus singing Happy Birthday under his breath and he couldn’t help but smile. There was no joy in it, though because as much as Gus missed Justin, Brian missed him that much more.

At the hospital, Lindsay had given him a curious look when he’d excused himself for his appointment at the lab. He didn’t expound on why he needed to step out for a moment, and she didn’t ask.

He knew it would be a quick and relatively painless procedure. A simple blood draw, and a few days to wait for results. Brian was certain everything would be fine. Offering his most reassuring smile to the mother of his son, he ducked from the room.

The nurse who drew his blood was friendly, but efficient, and didn’t waste any time with idle chit-chat. Thus, Brian was in and out of the lab in less than ten minutes. He was told to expect results within five business days and reminded that he would need at least three more follow-up tests, in one month, three months and six months. Brian acknowledged the advice and bit back the snarky retort.

He was all too aware of what he needed to do.

“Hello?” Justin’s voice sounded tentative, cautious.

“Hey,” Brian grunted.

“Hey,” Justin sounded uncertain, “is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Brian blurted out a little too quickly. He heard Justin sigh with resignation; he could tell everything was not okay. Hell, the simple act of Brian calling him probably told him that things were not okay…

“Did you get Gus’s message?” Brian asked, prolonging the moment of truth a bit longer.

There was a soft laugh from the other end of the line and Brian felt a smile play at his lips.

“Yeah, tell him thank you,” Justin’s voice had resumed its easy nature, “I loved it. He really is the best kid, Brian.”

“I know,” Brian murmured, “I’m fucking lucky.”

He could only hope his luck would hold out in this regard as well, as he braced himself to tell Justin the one thing, the very one thing he never wanted to have to tell him – or anyone.

“You need to get tested,” he blurted, biting at his cheek as the copper taste of blood filled his mouth.

There was nothing but silence on the other end of the line.

“I need……what?” Justin finally replied. He sounded confused, like he had misunderstood the punchline of a joke. If only it was a joke. Brian could imagine his expression, his eyebrows raised and a sort of half smile, half frown on his face. Fuck.

“You heard what I said,” Brian closed his eyes and rested his forehead in his free hand.

Fuck, this was even more degrading than the syphilis ‘incident’…

“I heard but I don’t...,” he sighed, then, and Brian heard the disappointment in it.

“Okay. Tested. For what, exactly?” Justin spoke slowly and Brian could hear the hard edge creeping into his voice now, along with a panic brimming just beneath the cool, calm he was trying to exude.

“HIV.”

Brian heard a sharp intake of breath and his gut twisted painfully.

“What the fuck, Brian!” Justin’s voice rose in volume and now there was panic; full, terrified, panic. “What the hell did you do?”

Shit.

“It’s probably nothing. A guy contacted me, he was exposed before he and I…,” Brian sighed, “and this was right before you and I…,” Brian paused again, “I’m sure it’s fine. Everyone wore protection, except the guy’s ex who started it all.”

“This is un-fucking-believable,” Justin was pissed, that much was easy to decipher. Brian just closed his eyes and accepted the anger – even through the telephone line he could feel it, radiating at him in waves.

“Will you get tested?” Brian asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Yes! God. What the fuck do you think?” Justin was full out yelling now. “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he added with a barking laugh.

“Justin, I -,” Brian started, but he wasn’t given the opportunity to finish.

“Fuck off, Brian,” Justin spat and Brian flinched. He had never felt this kind of vile anger from Justin before, and while he knew it was deserved it still hurt; this wasn’t the same type of anger he’d gotten after the Cancer (hurt anger), or even after the syphilis (disappointed anger) - this was borderline hatred. Brian understood there was a fine line between love and hate, but he also understood being the subject of someone’s hatred. He’d lived his entire life the subject of his parent’s hatred and now, feeling that coming from the one person he least wanted to hurt or give reason to hate him…it hurt like a fucking son of a bitch.

“Will you let me know your results?” Brian asked after a long pause, flinching again when Justin laughed humorlessly on the other end of the line.

“Sure, Brian. I’ll let you know,” he replied flatly, the change in his tone scaring Brian. He no longer sounded angry. He no longer sounded hurt. He sounded like a complete stranger, his voice unrecognizable. Brian would rather hear vile hatred lacing every word coming from Justin’s mouth than this disconnected, unemotional, detached voice.

Brian opened his mouth to offer what he knew would be a pathetic apology when he noticed the silence coming through the phone line was different, heavier.

“Hello?” Brian asked but he got no response. Justin was gone. 

Shit, fuck, and goddamn I’m a big fucking asshole, Brian thought as he tossed his cell onto the tabletop, watching it skid across the grainy, wood surface. He sat in the quiet, dark kitchen for nearly a half hour, wondering how the hell things had turned so bad, so damn fast.