Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

 

April 3 (Part Two)

"So, I was right," Brian said, his hand tightening around Justin's as they both stared at Tak sitting in the chair across from them. "You do have the little asshole in custody."

Justin chewed on his lower lip; they were sitting in an interview/interrogation room again, and Tak had just dropped his bombshell, (that wasn't much of one as Brian had been saying it from the beginning), that they had Blaine in custody. He didn't know how he felt about that. On the one hand, there was relief; this person had tried to drug his husband, and would have succeeded if Brian hadn't been a paranoid bastard of late. But another part of him was uneasy for a reason he couldn't place his finger on.

Maybe it was that it seemed too easy; he'd learned the hard way, a long, long time ago, that justice rarely prevailed when you were a gay man or woman. True, it had gotten better over the years, and the attitudes he'd went up against when he had been bashed weren't tolerated these days; but bigotry still remained on every level. Frankly, they had gotten lucky when it came to Tak; he had been pursuing this with a dogged determination rather than let it fall by the wayside like what had been so prevalent during the Jim Stockwell days. Still, Justin remained cautious when it came to police matters.

He just didn't want to get his hopes up, only to have another Chris Hobbs situation slap him in the face, leaving him feeling bashed for a second time.

"We do," Tak said, his hands steepled in front of him; his intense stare made Justin feel a bit uneasy, particularly as he seemed to be trying to find the right words to express himself. "He turned himself in."

"What?" Justin asked, his mouth agape; he hadn't expected that.

"He turned himself in?" Brian asked at the same time, seeming just as dumbfounded as Justin; he glanced over at Justin, a small, confused frown on his lips. Justin shrugged; he didn't really know what to think about that either.

"Yup," Tak confirmed and Justin thought he detected a note of incredulity under the layers of wariness and fatigue. Well, at least he and Brian weren't the only ones thrown by the recent turn of events.

"But…" Justin trailed off, slowly shaking his head as he tried to make sense of it all; after all, it hadn't been that long ago that Blaine had blatantly run from Brian when he'd run into him down on Liberty Avenue. "Why?"

"That apparently is a long and intricate story," Tak sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he stared at the stack of papers on the table. "But the gist is, he became concerned about how unstable his accomplice has been acting lately."

"He should have thought about that before he ever got involved with the asshole," Brian spat, his grip tightening on Justin's fingers to a painful degree; Justin emitted a small squeak and tug at his hand, instantly alerting Brian to his grip, and his husband shot him an apologetic look and brought his fingers to his lips for a gently kiss.

"True enough," Tak nodded, ignoring the small gesture as he wrote something on his pad. "But we all get caught up in bad situations from time to time without realizing just how deep we'll be sinking; usually when we trust the wrong person's words, as he did."

"It doesn't excuse his actions," Brian insisted, his overprotective streak rising to the forefront; and Justin sighed internally. He just knew that Brian was going to be a stickler on this because it revolved around him and Sunbeam.

Not that he blamed Brian; if the roles had been reversed, he would be acting the same way, but Justin also couldn't help feeling that they had more important things to worry about than someone who was likely nothing more than a pawn in bigger game.

"Not excuse them, no," Tak conceded with a frown, tapping his fingers on the desk. "But there were mitigating circumstances that explain his actions to a degree."

"Like?" Justin asked, curious as to why this man had gotten involved; Brian huffed impatiently and opened his mouth to respond. Likely to once again assert that the why didn't matter; just that he had done it. But Justin waved him off. "Hush, Brian; I think I have a right to know why this man is fucking with our lives. And I know that you want to know as well, if you'd just admit it to yourself."

Tak's lips quirked as Brian rolled his eyes and huffed once again; but he otherwise remained silent, not wanting to get involved with the squabble. Instead, he shuffled through the stack of papers, pulled out a couple of packets and slid them over.

"It would probably be easier to read this," he said, gesturing to the packet; Justin pulled it over to him and found a photocopy of what looked like a statement or confession.

Handing one to Brian, Justin settled down to read, the ball in his stomach tightening with every word that he read. Fuck; those poor fucking kids. Although, kid really wasn't the right word in Blaine's case as he was close to Justin's age. Sighing as he finished it about fifteen minutes later, Justin set the papers aside and pinched the bridge of his nose, utterly sick to his stomach.

Well, fuck; what the hell was he supposed to do now?

The cold hard truth was that this guy had willingly gone along with a scheme to separate him and Brian without thought to what they felt; but it was also obvious that he had gotten in way over his head and had never intended for things to go as far as they did. And with his sister to care for, (and really, the uncle situation was a whole other can of worms that he didn't know how to deal with), he'd been stuck.

Blaine was clearly in the wrong, but he hadn't started his scheme with malicious intent; he'd just been infatuated with Brian, something that Justin could understand. And when this guy had mentioned being infatuated with Justin, they'd struck a deal to try and get what they wanted. Yes, it was immature and a very high school-ish thing to do; but Blaine had genuinely believed Wolf when he'd told him that he and Justin had been in a relationship and Brian had been the interloper, not him.

Which, how the fuck that was possible when everyone on the Avenue knew was well versed in his and Brian's story, he didn't know; wires had obviously gotten crossed somewhere. Or maybe Blaine was just one of the few people on the Avenue that didn't pay attention to gossip, shocking as the idea may be. Whatever it was, while Justin was still angry about everything that had been happening, he didn't want to ruin this man's life just because he'd gotten caught in Wolf's web of lies.

Glancing over at Brian, Justin noticed that his husband was staring at his closed packet with a troubled frown on his face. And then Brian looked up and immediately scowled at the look on Justin's face, his eyes hardening a bit for the argument he knew coming. But Justin had to talk to him and see if there wasn't some way they could help this kid; even if it meant that they could only talk the prosecutor into a lighter sentence.

"Brian…" Justin said, and then trailed off when Brian's lips compressed into a thin, white line and he stubbornly shook his head.

"No, Justin," Brian said, his eyes dark and conflicted, even as he stubbornly held onto his convictions; but Justin couldn't let this go. The two of them reminded him of he and Molly to a degree and all he could think was, 'what would he do for Molly in this case?'

"Brian we can't…" Justin tried again, only to be cut off once more by the stubborn jutting of Brian's jaw as he turned to Justin.

"I feel bad for him too," Brian said, sighing when Justin just looked at him, one brow arched. "I do; but this doesn't negate what he's done to us."

Justin sighed; he knew that Brian was right, but he didn't feel right pressing charges against this kid…man when he was just doing his best to keep his sister safe and he ended up trusting the wrong person. Blaine made a foolish and rash decision, hoping to grab a little happiness after a hard life; one he now regretted. And Justin wanted to help him and his sister, not make things worse.

"We'll talk later," Justin said firmly before he looked back at Tak; he didn't want to argue about this right now; not when there were other things to address.

"Fucking sentimental twats are going to be the death of me…" Brian grumbled under his breath, hissing when Justin elbowed him in the ribs, but he too dropped it in favor of looking at Tak and saying. "Please, tell me some good came from this?"

Tak nodded. "Several leads were produced from our interrogation. The first being a sketch to go along with the description." He pulled out a sketch and slid across the table to Justin ad Brian. "Could you tell me if you recognize this person?"

Justin looked down at the sketch and sucked in a hissing breath as he studied the familiar face before him. But it was familiar in that he'd seen it before, not that he actually recognized the person; this had been one of the workers wandering around the gallery before the show; or at least Justin thought he had been. In fact, he recalled actually stopping and talking to him about one of his pieces.

"This is him?" Justin asked, still staring at drawing.

"Well, the best we could come up with a sketch artist," Tak said, watching Justin intently; Justin hissed again and cursed lowly under his breath.

"Fuck," he muttered, running his hand through his hair in agitation; he looked up and met both Tak's and Brian's concerned eyes. "I've talked to him." Justin tore his gaze away and stared at his supposed stalker's face once more. "Why didn't I notice…?"

"You've talked to him?" Brian and Tak asked together; but with different inflections. Tak sounded almost excited to hear it, likely hoping Justin might have more information for him. Brian on the other hand sound horrified at the idea.

"Yes," Justin said; he cocked his head, trying to remember as much as he could of that day, which was a bit hazy due to how busy he'd been. "He was at the gallery a couple of days before opening of my show; I found him staring at one of my pieces. But I thought he was one of the workers; so, I didn't think anything of it."

Tak nodded and made a notation on his notepad, while Brian gaped.

"You talked to him!?" Brian demanded for a second time and stared at Justin as if he'd done something monumentally stupid. Justin huffed and barely refrained from rolling his eyes; yes, while he understood Brian's concern at being in close contact with the stalker, it wasn't like Justin had known who he was talking to at the time.

"Didn't I just say that?" Justin asked caustically, a bit irritated at Brian's attitude.

"Why the fuck were you talking to him?" Brian demanded with a scowl on his face.

"Well, it wasn't like I knew it was him, Brian," Justin said with a baleful stare. "I thought he was one of the gallery workers or associated with one of the other companies trekking in and out. He had an official looking photo ID on a lanyard around his neck. It's not like he had a flashing, neon sign that screamed 'I'm a stalker!' over his head."

"Smart ass," Brian muttered and let it go for the moment; but Justin knew that when they were alone that Brian would definitely bring it up again.

"Anyways," Justin huffed, turning back to Tak. "We just talked about the piece he was looking at; there was nothing of import discussed."

"We'll come back to that later," Tak nodded and then pointed to the sketch, obviously wanting to get on with it. "So, this is the guy you talked to."

"Yeah; and come to think of it," Justin said, still staring at the picture; he wouldn't admit it out loud, but knowing this guy had easy access to the gallery and had actually talked to him that day, made his skin crawl. "It's also possible that this is the same person that I saw standing outside the doctor's office after we did the hospital tour and when we went on that trip up to…what was the name of that place again?"

"The Lakehouse Inn," Brian murmured absently. "Geneva-by-the-Lake."

"That's it!" Justin snapped his fingers. "I saw him standing across the street; Brian had been in the candy store at the time; he'd been staring across the street, presumably at me; although, I thought he'd been staring at the candy store, so I didn't think anything of it at the time. He crossed the street and walked towards me, but then Brian came out, distracted me and I don't know where he went after that. I'm pretty sure this is the same guy; although, I didn't see his full face then; just the nose and the eyes – which are a little off here – and his hair, which is a bit darker."

"Brian?" Tak turned and looked at Brian, who just shook his head.

"I don't remember seeing him," Brian said, his brow pinched. "But I have to admit that there is something familiar about him. I just can't put my finger on why or what."

"Right?" Justin exclaimed, feeling justified that he wasn't the only that thought the man seemed familiar, even if he couldn't place him. "That's what I thought when I first saw him; it's why he caught my eye in the first place. But I can't place him."

"So the nose and eyes are off?" Tak asked Justin.

"Yes," Justin nodded, and then pointed out the differences. "The nose is a bit wider overall; and his eyes are spaced a bit further apart, and the outside corners are a bit more down-turned here. They're also a bit rounder, less of an almond-shape. And actually the jaw is softer now that I really look at it. I can do a sketch if you like?"

"That would be great," Tak said, sliding the drawing back in his pile. "We've been circulating these at the different precincts and hopefully we'll get a hit from it."

"So, you haven't tracked him down yet," Brian asked; and Justin could tell that he was disappointed when Tak shook his head in negation.

"No," Tak sighed; also looking disgruntled that they hadn't gotten their hands on the guy yet. "We were, however, given an address to one of his bolt holes; but he was gone when we got there. And it wasn't in his name."

"Of course not," Brian huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose; Justin lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his husband's neck. He knew that Brian was frustrated and disappointed with the seeming lack of information and action; but, truthfully, Justin was amazed and happy that they had gotten even this much.

It was certainly more than what had happened with the bashing or when Brian's loft had been burgled the first time around. The assholes had barely even lifted a hand on either occasion as evidenced by the reduced charges with Chris and the lack of any leads whatsoever on the loft break-in. Not that Brian had helped much by lying to them in the first place about having strangers over; the idiot.

"The interesting thing though," Tak continued, breaking Justin out of his thoughts. "Is that the cottage is owned by a Marion Buckland; who is a person of interest as she once worked for the cleaning service employed by both yourself and the gallery."

"Mary?" Brian shook his head in disbelief; and Justin had to agree with his assessment. Mary had been like family and he knew she'd never knowingly do anything to hurt Brian. "She used to clean the loft; I've known her for years. There is no way that she is involved with this; I trust her implicitly."

"And she might not have been," Tak conceded with a nod. "At least not knowingly. According to her neighbors, she had a granddaughter, Ellen Hamilton; that lived with her in the main part of the house. Our mystery man, who Blaine simply referred to as Wolf, rented out the apartment above the garage for some additional income. It could have been the granddaughter or he might have made her an unwitting accomplice when he stole her keys. Unfortunately, she and her granddaughter are out of the country and can't be reached."

"Yeah," Brian agreed, cocking his head thoughtfully. "She mentioned that; said she was going home to England to visit family, before she settled down in Scotland near one of her kids. She was leaving the house to her granddaughter, who took the semester off to accompany her for an extended visit. She was planning to come home by the end of July to get ready for fall classes. She's enrolled at Carnegie."

"That's what we were told too," Tak hummed and jotted a fe notes down on his pad. "You wouldn't happen to have hers or her granddaughter's number, would you?"

"I do have a home and work number for Mary," Brian said with a frown. "Nothing for the granddaughter though; but my guess is that it would be the phone to the cottage. I can give them to you though and you can check them out."

"Might as well," Tak nodded, making a notation on a post-it note to call Brian about the numbers later and then setting it aside. "It may lead nowhere, but better to eliminate that avenue. The real interesting thing is though, according to her neighbors; is Ms. Buckland was violently ill just before they left for their trip."

Brian and Justin frowned and shared a worried look between them; they hadn't heard about that.

"In fact," Tak continued, reading from his notes. "It led to a brief hospitalization due to dehydration and as a result, she missed the last few days of work and her granddaughter had to turn in her keys to her work. But it took the granddaughter a couple of days to do so. The granddaughter told the company that it was because she was staying with her grandmother in the hospital; but that does leave about a forty-eight hour window where the perp could have had access to them."

"That still doesn't explain his knowledge of our codes," Brian pointed out. "I doubt that Mary would have given those to anyone."

"I can't tell you how he might have obtained those yet," Tak admitted with a single nod of acknowledgment. "The building code and the loft code were different, correct?"

"Yes," Justin said, beating Brian to it this time. "They weren't even remotely similar. Brian and I usually take turns choosing the codes; and it was my turn to chose this time. I can guarantee that I only gave the code to Brian, our friend and CFO Ted Schmidt, our friend and COO Cynthia Moore, and my mother and our property manager, Jennifer Taylor; the security company and the cleaning service also had access to the codes."

"And don't forget Deb," Brian pointed out unhappily. Justin frowned; he had completely forgotten about that. And based on his expression, so had Brian. They definitely needed to have a talk with Deb on that. "I know that you didn't give it to her, Sunshine; but, the fact remains that she got it somehow. My bet is on Mikey in that case, but he isn't talking. That is definitely something I'm still curious about."

"I recall that from last time," Tak said, tapping his pen against his notepad. "We are trying to track Ms. Buckland, and her granddaughter, Ms. Hamilton, down. Hopefully they might shed some light onto the key situation; especially that of Ms. Hamilton, since she is the last known person to have access to the keys."

"I'll look those numbers up for you when I get back to the office," Brian promised, typing a reminder into his phone. "And then I'll give you a call or email them to you."

"Good," Tak nodded and then jotted a few more notes into his pad. "There are a couple of more things that we should discuss about the house."

And then he paused, noticeably hesitating, and Justin's heart sank into his stomach at the conspicuous lull in the conversation. In his experience, a cessation in conversation usually preceded something the other party knew you wouldn't want to hear; and given the current topic, Justin had a good idea he wasn't going to like this one bit.

"Well?" Brian prompted impatiently.

"Brian…" Justin rolled his eyes and swatted at his husband's arm before shooting Tak an apologetic smile. "Sorry, patience has never been his strong suit."

"It's perfectly fine, Justin," Tak said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "I'd react the same if I were in his place. When we got to the place and were able to search it, we found a few disturbing things. It had been obvious that he was in a rush when he left, and as such, he left quite a few things behind; one of those being a shrine to Justin."

He pulled out a handful of photos and laid them out on the table; Justin scooted forward as much as his stomach would allow and looked at them, shuddering at the dingy and wrecked room in the shots. It looked like a hurricane had hit the room. Sifting through the photos, Justin shuddered at the multiple shots of a wall dedicated to picture of him, interspersed with other paraphernalia that he presumed had to do with him.

"That's not creepy at all," Justin rasped softly, shuddering again as he recoiled and curled into Brian's side; Brian pressed a soothing hand to the back of his neck and squeezed, grounding Justin as he continued to stare at the photos.

"But expected," Brian said softly, his eyes riveted on the photos as his hand tightened on Justin's neck; Justin frowned. "What, he's fixated on you. Hell, Ted had one of Michael when he believed himself to be in love with him and he's not even psycho; much."

Justin rolled his eyes at the dig at Ted; he knew that Brian was just trying to lighten the moment and make Justin feel better, but he didn't think that anything could make him feel comfortable at this point. Those photos creeped him out. Justin squeezed Brian's hand and scooted forward to view the pictures again.

"Along with the typical pictures," Tak said pointing at the photos. "There were also newspaper and magazine articles, brochures, fliers and tickets from your shows, as well as a couple of articles of clothing."

"Clothing?" Justin asked faintly, his skin pebbling as gooseflesh broke out across it.

"A scarf and a shirt," Tak said, pulling a photo out of the batch; it was a close up of a burgundy shirt and a familiar blue, cashmere scarf. "This is a picture of them."

"I remember that scarf," Justin said, shivering as he stared at the scarf he'd gotten for Christmas; it was a favorite as Brian said that it matched and brought out his eyes. "I got that from Jenny at Christmas; I thought I lost it. The shirt, I can't place. But that doesn't mean it wasn't mine; I just don't remember it. It does look like something I'd wear when I would go out to Babylon though."

"And you do have a bad habit of stripping off your shirt when you're dancing," Brian huffed, a disgruntled moue on his face. "Actually, do we even know what happened to the shirt you wore when you did that strip-tease contest during Christmas. I don't remember if we ever went back for those."

"I don't know," Justin shrugged; he knew that he had gotten the pants back, but he had three or four burgundy shirts; so who knew? "I don't remember getting it back; but, we were kind of distracted that night and I know we didn't stop for my clothing after the contest. If I remember correctly, while it too was a deep burgundy button-down, it wasn't this one. Can we even be sure that it was mine?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Tak said, his eyes filled with compassion; he likely knew that Justin was trying his best to distance himself from the shrine as much as possible. "At the very least; he believes that it is yours since it was part of the shrine."

Justin shuddered again and looked away; the thought that someone was this obsessed with him left him feeling helpless and scared; he couldn't even begin to comprehend why this person was so fixated as he'd swear up and down that he'd never seen this person before, he'd never interacted with them outside the gallery and he was fairly certain that he'd never been in an intimate situation with him.

"Yeah, not creepy at all," Justin muttered again, mostly to himself.

"It gets worse," Tak said a bit hesitantly.

"How could it possibly get worse?" Brian demanded incredulously; he wrapped an arm around Justin's back and cinched him protectively into his side.

"We found several unfinished 'love letters' addressed to your husband," Take explained quietly, pulling out about a dozen pieces of paper.

"What?" Brian chocked, staring at the sheaf of papers as if they were a snake about to strike; Justin stared at them too, a tricked of fear sliding down his spine.

"They are all hand-written and were found in a drawer by the shrine," Tak said, he clasped his hands and laid them on the stack.

"Can I see them?" Justin asked, pointing to them.

"I don't know that you should," Brian began, but then trailed off when Justin waved him off and scooted forward.

"I might recognize the writing, Brian," Justin huffed, trying not to get irritated at his husband's over-protectiveness. "Plus, I'd like to know what this person is thinking."

"Justin, your stress levels…" Brian tried again, but then trailed off into a scowl when Justin huffed and glared at him. "Fine; would he be able to look at them?'

"Of course," Tak said, laying the stack in front of Justin. "Keep in mind these are just copies of the originals. And as such, they are a little smudged in areas; although, that isn't a copier issue, but due to some smudges on the originals."

Justin nodded and pulled them over to him and began to read the first one with Brian leaning over his shoulder to do the same.

Dear Justin,

Have you ever looked at a person and thought, 'I was made for this person and he was made for me? That he is the other half of my soul and I would do anything to be as close to this person as physically possible. That you want nothing more than to meld with them until you couldn't figure out where you began and they ended?' That is what I feel when I look at you. I see you and see perfection, someone I would live and die for…

Justin shuddered and shoved it aside; yes, he did know what that like. He had thought something similar not long after meeting Brian for the first time. He'd known even then that Brian was going to be significant in his life, not that he'd ever actually use the word soul-mate. So, it was disturbing to see those words written in another's hands and know that this person was… well it made his skin crawl.

Flipping through the next two or three, all seeming to be alternate versions of the first one, Justin stopped when he reached one that made his blood chill:

Dear Justin,

I touched you for the first time in years today; and it was still as magical as it was the first time we touched. I remember that day so vividly. I was so surprised when you talked to me that day; I'd always thought you were beautiful, but somewhat untouchable for more reasons than I care to go into. And then when you touched me for the first time, it was like I'd come alive for those far too brief moments. I long deeply for those touches…

Jesus Fucking Christ.

The letter slipped from Justin's numb fingers and slid onto the table with a soft hiss; Justin just shook his head and stared at the letter, completely uncomprehending as to what the hell this man was talking about. He'd only recalled two, maybe three times he'd knowingly encountered the man and he didn't recall a time they'd touched. Did it really happen? Or was this something that the man had made up in his head? And if he had made it up, fuck…how fucking delusional was this person?

Shuddering again, Justin shook his head violently to clear it and then tore his eyes away from the paper just as Brian reached for it and shoved it away with an angry swipe of his hand. Justin looked up and met furious and terrified hazel eyes, and wished he had the strength to soothe his husband, but he was feeling the same – angry and terrified and panicked and violated. That was the prevalent feeling. He felt violated.

Shuffling through the papers, he read a third one, dreading what he'd find.

Dear Justin,

Hello, my love. It was so good to see you today, even if you didn't know it was me. You really need to be careful; I don't even want to think about what might have happened if I hadn't been there to catch you before you fell over. Next time ask an employee to get you whatever it is you need if you can't reach the top shelf. Although, I suppose I can't complain as it gave me an opportunity to hold you in my arms for a time. You've always fit there so perfectly and I can't wait for the day that we're reunited…

And fuck! He'd had a feeling that grocery store man was the stalker, but to have confirmation of the fact had him breaking out in cold sweat. To know that the man had indeed touch him at least once…Justin shuddered, his breath growing harsh and ragged around the edges as he tried to fight back the icy panic washing over his body.

Dropping his head, Justin closed his eyes and drew in several deep, measured breaths, focusing his mind on the counts of each breath in the hope of easing the turmoil in his mind. Leaning his head against Brian's arm, Justin stayed that way for another minute or two, drawing strength from his husband as Brian rubbed soothing circles on his back.

Inhaling sharply, Justin pulled away and picked up the sheaf of papers that had slipped out of his hands, determined to get through them.

Dear Justin

Tonight was amazing; the feel of you beneath me. I never imagined that sex could feel this good; but with you it's transcendent. And God, the way you smelled; I'm so happy that you started using those products again. I never understood why you changed your shampoo and soap; it made you smell wrong. But now…

"I can't…" Justin choked out, his voice thin and shaky even to his own ears; he shoved the rest of the pile away with wild eyes. "I can't read anymore. Jesus fuck; where is he getting this shit? I know for a fact that I have never had sex with this person."

Tak gathered up the papers and somberly stuffed them back into the folder; and Justin could see that the man was equally shaken by the contents. Justin clung to Brian's hands; and when he had grabbed them, he didn't know, but he needed something to ground him after reading that sick fuck's last letter. That he thought for even a second that he and Justin had any kind of…Justin shuddered and felt ill.

Licking his lips, he shakily grabbed the glass of water in front of him and took a long swallow, hoping that it would quell the urge to vomit.

"We think that he's referring to Blaine in that letter," Tak said quietly, reassuringly, as if he were trying to soothe Justin; but Justin didn't care that it wasn't actually him that the sick fuck was talking about. The fact that he was so delusional that reality and fantasy had blurred for him to that degree…it left Justin paralyzed with terror.

"As you recall," Tak continued as calmly as possible. "Your toiletries went missing after the loft break-in. Immediately after that, Wolf gifted Blaine with a set of toiletries and demanded that he use them each time they were together. It was also then that Blaine noticed that the lines of reality and fantasy started blurring for Wolf. He started calling him Justin all the time, and the blackout rages were becoming more frequent; and Wolf often entered an altered state of consciousness that left him dazed and disoriented and unable to recognize Blaine when he came out of them. It was what led Blaine to finally coming clean. He was scared that Wolf would hurt his sister."

"Fuck," Brian hissed, and then swore violently and creatively under his breath, his own body shaking and muscles coiled, as if ready to go on the attack as he kept Justin firmly clutched to his side. "And you don't have any idea where this asshole is?"

"Not yet," Tak said regretfully. "But we are still going through the evidence; hopefully something will turn up."

"What about his mail?" Justin asked a touch desperately; after all, if the guy had been living there for a while, surely there had to be some sort of mail delivery where they could get this assholes name. "Surely that could have given you a name."

"There was nothing there," Tak said unhappily. "And according to a couple of people that knew him, he had his mail sent to either a PO Box or another residence as he always brought it home with him."

"Why does this asshole always seem to be one step ahead of us?" Brian spat, his hands clutching tightly around Justin's, making Justin cry out as they pinched and Brian relax his grip, swiping his thumb over the bruised skin.

"He's hidden for a long time," Tak said, his own frustration bleeding through for a moment. "And he's gotten very good at making sure that he's not found. But, we are closing in on him; he's been making mistakes recently as he escalates and it's only a matter of time before we pin him down."

Justin nodded; he knew that. Tak had mentioned it several times; pointing out that his stalker had been actively stalking him for at least a couple of years, if not more. And that they didn't know why he had waited so long to escalate. He only hoped that now that the asshole had, they'd get him the fuck away from him and his family.

Scrubbing a hand over his head, Justin stared at the pictures on the table blankly and tuned the continuing conversation between Tak and Brian out; he didn't think that he could handle anymore. His mind was on overload and he really needed to process what he'd been told before he took in more. Plus, he knew that Brian would fill him in if they covered anything important while he was checked out.

Sighing, Justin continued to study the photos; or really, one in particular. Something about this picture disturbed him, but he couldn't place just why. He pulled the picture over to him and studied it carefully, his eyes taking in every detail and then widening as he realized what had caught his eye. Inhaling sharply, Justin picked up the photo and pulled it closer to his eyes, trying to make sure he was seeing what he was really seeing.

And when he discovered he was, a chill slid down his back; he looked up to find Tak and Brian quiet and watching him with twin concerned frowns.

"Uh, not to get too off track," Justin said in a strangled tone as he set the photo down on the table. "But I have a question."

"What's that?" Tak ask, looking at the picture as well.

"Where was this picture taken?" Justin asked, pointing to the picture in question, which showed a table top covered in papers, pictures and other things.

"That was in his apartment," Tak said, spinning the picture around to look at it; but Justin didn't expect him to catch what was wrong with it. "It's of a table near your shrine."

"His apartment?" Justin muttered to himself, staring at the picture; or really, staring at the pictures on the table in the photo. "What the actual fuck?"

"Justin?" Brian asked as he grabbed the photo and began to study it. "What's wrong?"

"Take a good look at that picture, Brian," Justin said, growing more and more pissed by the second. "The table in particular; and tell me what you see."

"Uh, looks like a few receipts, some papers and a couple of pictures…." Brian said, ticking things off without much comprehension until he got to the last item and then he froze, staring at the photo in disbelief. "Son of a bitch! Is that a picture of...?"

"Yes," Justin hissed, beyond pissed now; it was one thing that this asshole had pictures of him out and about; and it was an entirely other thing altogether that he had pictures of the inside of Britin. That…that was going too far. "Why…how…why the fuck does this asshole have pictures of my nursery!?"

 

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