“You think you’ve got everybody fooled, don’t you? Well, not me, honey. I’ve known you too long, and regrettably, too well. And no matter how hard you try to deny it, I can tell that you care as much about him as he cares about you. ... That little, persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire. And that’s what’s happened, huh? Admit the truth. You love him, don’t you?”

*****

The more Brian Kinney insists that he's fine, the more likely it is that he's not. That was one thing Debbie Novotny had learned in 30 years of knowing the man.

Really, she’d known him since long before he was a man -- when he was navigating that confusing and awkward time between childhood and manhood. It was a confusing time for most anyone, but for Brian, it had been further complicated by his family relationship -- if you could even call it a relationship. Technically, she supposed, it was, even though it wasn’t at all positive, and most of the time it only brought Brian pain.

But getting even a teenaged Brian to admit that the way his parents treated him hurt him -- both physically and mentally -- was difficult, if not impossible. He would always insist that he was okay, and often seemed embarrassed by the physical injuries he’d show up with. Like they demonstrated a weakness he didn’t want to show. Sometimes, though, he’d allow her to take care of him, and it made her want to cry when she’d see in his eyes and the way he leaned just a little into her touch, how much he wanted that comfort, but it seemed like he wasn’t willing to allow himself to have it. Like he thought maybe he didn’t deserve it. Like some part of him was buying into what his parents told him and how they treated him, and he was internalizing all of it. Starting to believe that all he deserved was to be cast aside and left to deal with everything alone. That he wasn’t worthy of care or comfort or love.

Debbie certainly had her share of confrontations with the Kinneys over the years, and she had to admit that she was glad when Brian turned 18 and set forth to immediately separating himself from his parents and their house, and their abuse. She’d been so proud of him when he showed up at her house one afternoon during his and Michael’s senior year of high school, holding a letter that not only admitted him to Carnegie-Mellon University, but also awarded him a full-ride athletic scholarship for soccer. She knew better than to think that Jack and Joan would ever be proud of their son, so she’d tried to make up for it, just as she had been for four years already, by letting Brian know at every turn how thrilled she was for him. What a great opportunity this was. And the unspoken part of that, for her, was how relieved she was that Brian would be getting away from his parents, hopefully once and for all.

But the effects of their treatment of Brian still lingered. In some ways, they still did to this day.

He’d rebelled as much as he could as he got deeper into his teen years -- smoking and drinking, and Debbie knew that he and Michael would sneak into Babylon occasionally with fake IDs. The start of Brian’s “pain management.” In so many ways, Brian had been a terrible influence on Michael, but Debbie was afraid to say too much about it, because she saw how much Brian meant to Michael, and how much Michael meant to Brian, even though the way they each depended on the other was very different. For Michael, Brian was someone he could look up to, who seemed strong and fearless, and played right into his obsession with superheroes. Michael needed that. And for Brian, Michael was someone he could always depend on to be there, who cared about him, and Debbie knew he needed that. Everyone needed that.

So she fought the urge to put her foot down and try to stop them from going out to the club, where she knew there was a lot of promiscuous sex going on in the back room, and it was likely Brian was partaking in it as yet another way of bucking the influence of his strict parents, who didn’t even know he was gay. She had to recognize that Brian and Michael were both growing up, and hope that she’d taught them both well -- that if they chose to have sex, they’d be safe about it. She wanted to try to remain a positive influence in Brian’s life, and it just didn’t seem like trying to restrict him or scold him would be the way to do that. Not when he was already rebelling from his own parents. Her motherly instincts wanted to keep him close and protect him, not push him away or alienate him.

That’s not to say that she wouldn’t occasionally give him a piece of her mind, but the bottom line was that she wasn’t his mother, and he was under no obligation to do what she said. She always remembered that. She had to. Her power over him was limited, and preserving the positive parts of their relationship -- and Brian’s with Michael -- was more important to her.

As a result, she’d kept her mouth shut about a lot of things she probably shouldn’t have during their high school years. But that was all water under the bridge now. And, in the end, both of her boys had turned out okay and made something of themselves. That was really all she could have asked for.

Brian and Michael’s relationship had changed over the years, as had Debbie’s relationship with each of them. But, that was life -- that was what happened as the years passed by and children became adults and started lives and families of their own. And life always had a way of complicating things even further, it seemed, by throwing up more obstacles and forcing people to change even more to work around them. Brian was one person for whom that statement rang very true. But through it all, he always insisted he was okay, even when it was more than obvious that he wasn’t.

Debbie didn’t know why he did that, but she figured it was because he’d had a habit ingrained in him since he was very young that he couldn’t show weakness and shouldn’t ask for help. She’d seen it right after his accident, especially -- a time when he could least afford to be fighting with himself about whether or not to accept help. He’d tried to shut down and shut everyone out, but she wasn’t willing to allow him to do that to her. She wasn’t going to go away. And she didn’t.

“I’m fine,” he’d insist, over and over again. Or, the alternative version, “I’m okay.” Both became his mantras. Debbie was never quite sure who Brian was trying to convince when he’d say those things -- the person he was talking to, or himself. A little bit of both, more than likely. Because the truth was almost always that he wasn’t fine at all -- he just didn’t want to admit that there was something he needed. He didn’t want to show vulnerability. “I’m fine” and “I’m okay” were just two bricks in Brian Kinney’s wall that he’d built to keep everyone out. The wall of protection and self-preservation, that Debbie Novotny had always seen right through.

One thing that Brian kept behind that wall was his caring nature -- if he cared about you, he’d do anything for you, regardless of what it cost him, and he never wanted or expected an acknowledgment or a thank you. Most people saw Brian Kinney as selfish, but the truth was, he could actually be quite selfless. His innate goodness, she’d once called it, as they sat in the floor of the loft and shared a joint after he’d lost his job with VanGard. She meant it when she said she’d never been so fucking proud of him in her life -- for following Justin’s lead and risking everything he had to stand up for his rights and the rights of others like him. He’d given up two things that were very important to him -- money and power. Two of the tenets that symbolized Brian’s independence over his upbringing. But he’d given them up for what was truly important. And, in a way, he’d done it for Justin. Because he cared about him.

Another thing that caring nature would lead him to do was to push his own needs aside when he got focused on something. Debbie was sure that also grew out of being told over and over again growing up that he wasn’t worth anything. While it might have looked from the outside that Brian Kinney valued himself above all others, the truth was that he didn’t value himself much at all. Not really. It was a product of the way he’d been raised. He’d always hidden his low self-esteem behind a large amount of bravado -- his “bad boy” routine that simply wasn’t true, cranked up to eleven. And the times when Brian really needed to take care of himself were when his low opinion of his own worth would come back to bite him in the ass.

This was one of those times.

Debbie got a phone call from Michael early on Monday morning. Michael was simply relaying information Brian had given to him -- retelling a story that threw her for as much of a loop as it had Michael. Justin had been driving to Pittsburgh, alone, in Brian’s car, and had apparently been involved in a serious accident. Meanwhile, Brian was working on making his way from Rochester to Pittsburgh via airplane. It took them awhile to fill in the gaps of why the situation unfolded the way it did. Not that it mattered -- what mattered was that Justin was seriously hurt, and Brian wasn’t there yet.

Debbie immediately called Jennifer, and found that she was at the hospital and had been there all night, mostly sitting in a waiting room. She had finally been allowed in the room with Justin, who was in a medically-induced coma due to a brain injury. Debbie Novotny wasn’t an easy person to shock or overwhelm, but in that moment, someone could have knocked her over with a feather. Why was the worst part of Justin’s history -- something he’d worked so hard to overcome -- happening all over again? And, she couldn’t deny that she knew it was one of the worst parts of Brian’s history was well.

She remembered all too well the state Brian had been in the first time Justin was in the hospital in a coma -- so afraid and filled with guilt that he could barely function. He’d been completely numb. They’d barely managed to get him to eat or sleep.

Justin was in the hospital, and Brian wasn’t focused on anything but him.

Debbie had a feeling that this time might be much the same.

For most people, that would be fine, and it was certainly understandable. But for Brian, this time it wasn’t fine, because he had a lot to do to maintain his own health, and making him see that as an important part of being there for Justin was a tall order. Michael was trying to convince Brian to take care of himself, and Debbie was too, but Brian was too distracted to listen.

At least he didn’t seem to be engaging in any self-destructive behavior, as Brian was prone to do. Debbie was thankful for that, at least, because that wouldn’t help him be there for Justin either.

When Debbie first saw Brian on Monday, he already looked exhausted. Debbie couldn’t imagine the mental state he was probably in after having received a midnight phone call telling him that his husband was in the hospital. She didn’t really want to imagine it either. As a police officer’s wife, that type of phone call was her worst nightmare.

Debbie kept Jennifer company until Brian arrived, then she willingly gave up her spot so Brian could be with his husband.

Who would have ever guessed that 45-year-old Brian Kinney would be married to Justin Taylor? And for nine years now, no less? It was a possibility that had shocked them all the first time it had come up, when she’d joked that Brian must have knocked up Sunshine. But, all jokes aside, even back then, she’d been happy for them both. But she was especially happy that Brian had finally opened his heart to somebody. All she’d ever really wanted was for him to find happiness and fulfillment, like Michael had with Ben. And she knew he’d never find that in the back room at Babylon. But with Sunshine, he could.

She remembered thinking back then, that maybe Brian would finally break free of the baggage Jack and Joan had left him with.

Then, in true Brian Kinney fashion, Brian had sacrificed his own happiness for what he thought was best for Justin. And Debbie had seen every time he came into the diner after Justin left for New York, just how much Brian missed him, even if he’d never admit to it. It was like Brian was missing a piece of himself. He just wasn’t complete without Justin. He was going through the motions, and that was it. And he was back to his old pain management techniques in full force -- drinking, drugging, and tricking every night.

The next summer, everything changed for Brian in the blink of an eye. He’d be living the rest of his life in a wheelchair. It would be a devastating injury for anyone, but it seemed particularly devastating for Brian. And no matter how much he tried to hide that, Debbie saw it.

He could no longer be the same person she’d known for all those years. His whole life had changed, and he had no choice but to change with it.

The old Brian Kinney was still under there, but it seemed like it was only the not-so-pleasant parts. The parts that had never served him well, that Debbie felt had only ever gotten in Brian’s way. The self loathing and the refusal to let anyone get close or to let himself feel any sort of emotion. She knew he needed Justin, because Justin could reach Brian in a way that no one else could, but Michael had told her that Brian had refused to even tell Justin about the accident. So she just had to stand by and watch and do the best she could to keep Brian from self destructing.

“I'm fine,” he would always say, anytime Debbie checked in on him. But it was months before she saw him at the diner again, save for the one time Michael had brought him there when he was still in rehab. He didn't go out anymore with Michael or any of the others. As best she could find out by way of Ted, Brian was going to work and back home and hardly ever leaving his apartment otherwise. And that worried Debbie, because that wasn’t like Brian.

So she had a ramp installed at the back door of her house, and told Brian that if he knew what was good for him, he was coming to family dinner the following Sunday. She had no idea if he’d show up or not, even in spite of her ultimatum, but he did. Only he still wasn’t himself. He was quiet and seemed uncomfortable, and she hadn’t seen him that shrunken in on himself since he was still just a kid, when he’d show up on her doorstep after Jack beat him up and kicked him out. She never thought she would ever miss his sarcastic, smart-assed comments, but she did. And when she got him by himself and quietly asked him how he was doing and if he needed anything, the only response she got was, “I’m fine.”

Debbie didn’t know what to do to make him open up, so she just kept inviting him over. And he kept coming. Slowly, he ventured out more, and he’d at least meet Michael at the diner for lunch once a week or so. He still wasn’t himself, but he seemed to be getting better with time.

Then, Christmas came around, and Sunshine re-entered Brian’s life. She hadn’t seen Brian smile in months, but he sure did when he saw Justin again. They had some shit to talk about and work through, sure, since Michael had never managed to convince Brian to tell Justin what had happened to him, but they seemed to be working things out just fine. And at the end of the night, they’d left together. That made Debbie smile too.

The next thing she knew, Brian was moving to New York, and she could see the old Brian Kinney starting to reawaken, just a little. The good parts, this time. It wasn’t long before Brian and Justin were finally getting married. And she didn’t think she’d ever seen either of them as happy as they had been on the night of their wedding reception.

Now, nine years had gone by since then. Nine more years of memories -- of Thanksgivings and Christmases and birthdays past. And, in a way, Debbie had felt like she was watching Brian grow up again, and really come into his own, with Justin playing an instrumental part this time.

The two of them were good for each other. She had to admit, she’d had some misgivings in the beginning, but who wouldn’t when it came to a 29-year-old grown man getting involved with a 17-year-old kid? The bottom line then, though, had always been that she didn’t want to see Justin get hurt, and she knew Brian far too well. But it hadn’t taken her too long to see straight through Brian’s show of “I don’t care,” right down to the fact that he really did love the kid, even if he didn’t know how to express it. Another result of how he was raised.

And she could see every bit of that love on Brian’s face -- in the palpable relief that spread across it -- the moment Brian took Justin’s hand in that hospital room. It had been all she could do to tear her eyes away and walk back down the hallway with Michael, because it was so beautiful to see how much Brian loved Justin.

Once Brian was there, Debbie felt like she wasn’t doing enough, just sitting out in the waiting room with Michael. So she started making plans to go home and cook, because that was the way she could feel the most helpful -- making lasagnas and casseroles and comfort food. She was Italian, what could she say? They showed love with food -- it was in their genes. Michael did talk her into making some chicken parmesan and a pan of roasted vegetables, because he claimed Brian wouldn’t want any of the other things she was planning to make.

“It won’t kill him to eat some pasta every now and then, you know,” she’d said, rolling her eyes.

But she made the chicken and vegetables anyway, because now probably wasn’t the time to try to contradict Brian Kinney’s food rules, even if she thought they were ridiculous.

The next day was more of the same -- lots of time spent in the waiting room, and no change in Justin’s condition.

The day after that was when things started to change. Justin’s doctors slowly brought him out of his coma and got him off of the respirator, and Justin woke up, albeit briefly, sometime around 3 p.m. All he’d said was Brian’s name, but that simple action had brought all of them a great deal of relief, particularly Brian. Justin woke up one more time for a couple of minutes before visiting hours were over, but he hadn’t said anything that time, according to Jennifer.

They all knew it was normal for him to only awaken briefly, and that it would probably take him a few days of drifting in and out before he was able to be conscious for any length of time. Debbie could imagine how frustrating that must have been for Brian and Jennifer, to want so badly to interact with Justin, but to not be able to.

Debbie had also noticed that day, that something seemed to be off with Brian. He looked exhausted, and he seemed edgy. Like something was bothering him. So when it came time for the hospital to kick them all out yet again, she decided to ask Brian to join her for dinner, in hopes she could get him to talk about whatever it was.

“You know, Carl’s out tonight playing poker with some of the other guys from the force,” she said. “Why don’t you come have dinner with me? Keep an old lady company. Eat something other than room service or that Thai takeout you always liked so much. I made some lasagna the other day that I could heat up.”

She was half expecting him to say no, but she really hoped he’d say yes, because she didn’t want him sitting alone in a hotel room again. Debbie wished she had a way to accommodate Brian, so that he could stay with her instead of by himself. This was a time when a person needed to be surrounded by family, even if that person was Brian Kinney, Mr. I-Don’t-Need-Anybody himself.

But he ended up surprising her.

“I’d like that,” he said as he looked up at her and smiled a little. “Lasagna sounds good. I haven’t had your lasagna in a long time.”

Maybe he'd missed her just as much as she'd missed him, Debbie thought.

“Well, then we need to fix that, honey,” she said, giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as they waited for the elevator.

Debbie took Brian back to her house and heated up a couple of slices of the lasagna while Brian sat and stared at the table and picked at his fingers, occasionally stopping to fidget with the salt and pepper shakers. He’d always done things like that, ever since he was a kid, and she knew he did it more when he was nervous or upset about something. She was wondering if there was more to what was going on for Brian than just the fact that Justin was hurt, but she knew she couldn’t just come right out and ask, because he probably wouldn’t tell her the truth -- particularly if the truth would prove that he did, indeed, have feelings and emotions. He’d come a long way over the years, but he still wasn't much on talking about feelings. She’d have to be more subtle than that, and hope he might eventually confide in her. Debbie was the first to admit that subtlety wasn’t her game, but she’d try.

“So,” she said as she brought the plates over to the table and set one down in front of Brian before taking her own seat across from him at her small dining room table. “Tell me about what you were doing in Rochester. I heard you were asked to come and talk to some people.”

“Yeah.” Brian shrugged and used the side of his fork to section off a small bite of lasagna while he spoke. “I’m still not sure what it is that makes people think I’m qualified to act as some sort of an inspiration.”

“Because you’re kicking ass and taking names the same way you always did. Maybe they think there need to be more people like you out there in the world.”

Brian chuckled. “That’s a scary thought.”

“Maybe so, but I think you’re a pretty good example of how you can still live your life -- and a full one at that -- even though it’s different than it was before.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Not sure I’m a good example for anything, really.”

“Well, I’m sure about it, honey. You run a successful business, and you spend your spare time trying to help make things easier for other people who don’t have it quite as easy as you do. And I know you don’t have it easy, but you know what I mean.”

“Fuck, the last thing I want to be is inspiration porn, even for other paraplegics. I’m just doing what’s right, that’s all. Just living my life.”

He really had turned out to be a good man, Debbie thought to herself. Even in spite of Jack and Joan’s best efforts to hold him down and leave him jaded.

They talked about Gus and Kinnetik and Brian’s friends in New York, and Debbie could see Brian loosening up a little as his mental focus moved away from the situation Justin was in and more toward other aspects of his life. That was exactly what she’d been going for when she invited him over -- she wanted to give him a mental break as much as she’d wanted to give him some company, and she also wanted to try to keep him from stewing too much about what was going on at the hospital. Providing a little distraction. But even though he seemed to be relaxing a bit, she could also see him constantly shifting positions like he was in pain, which led her to encourage him to lie down for a little while on her couch, while they kept talking about everything that had been going on in Brian’s life. It felt good to catch up with her surrogate son, and it made her wish that they talked more often.

She got up and left the room for a few minutes to use the restroom, and when she came back, Brian was snoring softly. Debbie smiled to herself as she took the crocheted afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over the sleeping man. It reminded her of when Brian and Michael were teenagers, and Brian would come to their house to escape from the toxic environment that he was forced to live in. She'd tuck him in and mother him a bit, and he'd usually let her. This time, she knew she should probably wake him and take him back to his hotel, but she didn’t have the heart to do it. He’d looked so exhausted, and could probably use the rest. So why not let him sleep for a couple of hours, and then take him back?

Carl probably wouldn’t be home until much later, so Debbie decided to give Brian some privacy and go upstairs to her room for a bit. It was around 8 p.m. when she settled into her armchair with a book and propped her feet up. And it was around 10 when a terrorized scream from downstairs jolted her out of the nap she hadn’t even realized she was taking. Shortly after the scream, came a soft thump. At least, it sounded soft from upstairs.

The book that had been resting haphazardly in Debbie’s lap fell to the carpet as she jumped out of the chair and started down the stairs as quickly as her legs would carry her. She found Brian on the floor in front of the couch, lying on his side, obviously disoriented. He blinked and looked around, practically looking right through her as she knelt down next to him. His eyes were wild, his face shone with sweat, and he was breathing hard.

“Shit,” Debbie said frantically. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She cursed herself for not waking him earlier and taking him back to his hotel, but then wondered what would have happened if he’d been alone and fell out of the bed instead of off of her couch. So maybe it was better that he was here, with her.

“Where am I?” Brian mumbled, still looking around with unfocused eyes and breathing way too fast. He pushed his palms into the floor and sat up a little, as if he was trying to give himself a different perspective. He looked like he was trying to figure out if what had been happening in his dream was really what was happening around him.

“You’re at my house,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice calm, even though her mind was racing, trying to figure out what she needed to do.

Brian rolled over onto his back, squeezed his eyes shut, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. The grimace on his face made it look like he was in pain.

“Brian, look at me, honey,” Debbie said. She was starting to get worried, and that worry was beginning to bleed through in her voice. “I need you to tell me if you’re hurt.”

He took a few more unsteady breaths, and for Debbie, the wait for a response was agonizing. Finally, his breathing started to slow, and he shook his head a little, as if he was trying to clear his head.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he blinked his eyes open. Realization seemed to have finally dawned in them. “Was I screaming?”

“You were. Has this happened before, honey? Recently?”

Brian looked down and didn’t answer.

“What’s going on, Brian?” Debbie tried to keep her tone as gentle as possible. “Why are you screaming in your sleep?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

It had been a long time since she’d been awakened by a scream like that. She wondered if Brian even remembered the way he’d occasionally have nightmares when he’d stay the night with Michael back when they were teenagers. Sometimes they’d make him scream, and sometimes he’d be crying and whimpering like a kid much younger than what he’d been at the time. She’d always wondered what his dreams were about, but he never would tell her. He’d only tell her that he was fine. Knowing what his home life was like, though, she had a pretty good idea what the nightmares contained, and the thought made her hurt for Brian and want to rage at Jack and Joan. She wondered if it was the same thing, even thirty years later, or if something different was haunting Brian now.

“Brian…” Debbie paused for a moment to try to figure out what to say, but Brian interrupted her thoughts.

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it. Shit, why am I in the floor?”

“I think you fell off the couch.”

“Fuck,” Brian groaned.

“That must have been a pretty bad dream.”

“I don’t remember,” he said, looking away from Debbie.

She knew just from that simple action that he was probably lying, and she could see exactly what he was doing -- shutting down. She’d seen it many times before. When he’d come over to her house with unexplained bruises or cuts or a split lip or a black eye, and he’d just shrug and look away when she asked him about it. He never really wanted to talk about it -- it was like he was just shoving it all off into some hidden compartment, or at least attempting to. When his eyes would get dark, and Debbie could tell there was pain behind them that Brian was trying desperately to hide.

“You’re not hurt are you?” she asked again.

“I don’t think so,” Brian grunted as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He paused for a moment, seemingly to collect himself, before he started scooting toward his chair. He lined himself up in front of it, then bent his legs at the knees and pulled them in close to his body before grabbing the frame of his chair with his left hand, then simultaneously launching himself upward and rotating his body so that his butt landed perfectly in the seat. Debbie was impressed with the maneuver, and how easy it looked, even though she knew it was anything but.

“You’d better not be lying to me, Brian Kinney.”

“I’m not, mom,” he said. She’d always loved it when he called her mom, even when it was sarcastic. “I promise. I’m fine.” There it was. His mantra. She’d known it was coming eventually, even though it was obvious that he was not fine. He might be fine, physically, but there was clearly something going on inside his head. And Debbie wanted to know about it, so she could help him. But she knew if he was going to tell her, she had to let him do it in his own time. All she could do was let him know she was there if he needed her.

Brian excused himself to go to the bathroom, and was in there for what seemed like a very long time. Debbie had to fight to resist the urge to check on him more than once, but she knew exactly what would happen if she showed too much concern -- Brian would shut down and shut her out.

He looked okay when he came out, but the first thing he said was, “I guess I’d better get back to the hotel. Going to be another early morning tomorrow.”

She’d known that would have to happen eventually, because Brian would need to be able to take a shower, and she was sure there were other things he’d need to do that he couldn’t do in her tiny downstairs half bath in her very-old townhouse. And after that dream he’d had -- no matter it was about -- she wanted even less to drop Brian off at that hotel to spend the night by himself. But she didn’t have a choice, even though her motherly instincts were telling her that it was a bad idea.

They rode to the hotel without saying much. Debbie spent most of the time thinking about how she was going to get to the bottom of what was really going on with Brian. She made up her mind to call Michael first thing in the morning. If Brian wouldn’t open up to her, maybe he would with Michael. Either way, her main focus was making sure Brian was actually okay, and not just saying he was.

Meanwhile, Brian was staring out the window, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

When they got there, Debbie started to get out of the car so she could help Brian, or at least make things easier, but he stopped her the second she put her hand on the door.

“Don’t get out, mom,” he said. “I’m fine.”

So Debbie just watched him as he retrieved the pieces of his chair from the backseat and assembled it right there on the pavement. He made quick work of it, even though it was obvious that he was tired.

“I love you, kiddo,” Debbie said as Brian slid his body from the car seat and into his chair. She needed him to know that, especially tonight.

He looked up at her for a moment, gave her a small smile and said, “Me too.” Then, he backed up and shut the door without saying another word.

She watched him go through the front doors of the hotel, then disappear out of sight.

Debbie still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if that dream would revisit Brian whenever he finally made it back to sleep. Or if he would be able to sleep at all. She hoped he would at least try, because he needed it. And Debbie hated that she couldn’t be there to help him feel safe, because even though he was a grown man, she still worried about him, just like she did with Michael. They were her boys. And even though they were grown, she knew she’d never stop being a mother. Mothers worry. It’s what they do.

She’d been worried about Brian physically taking care of himself, but now it was looking like her concern needed to be focused on his mental health instead. She felt like her hands were tied, though, and it was frustrating.

But there was one thing she knew for sure -- Brian Kinney wasn’t okay.