Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

"Hello, Brian," Justin said as he recognized the caller ID.  Justin didn't want to ask how things were as he was fairly certain that this was not a social call. 

 

"I want a drink," Brian said.

 

"I'm glad you called.  Tell me what is going on."

 

"I had a for shit today.  When I went to pick up Gus, his mom was all up in my face about why I didn't tell her that I had an accident. She would have come over and helped me, yada yada.  The fucking accident was two weeks ago and I did just fine.  I don't need anyone to ‘help me'. She was so fucking condescending like I was some kid who needed to be coddled since I had an accident.  Then when Gus and I get home, we are playing the new Xbox game I got him and my buzzer to my building rings.  I figure it is either Mikey or Debbie, his mom.  I had already told Mikey that I wasn't free tonight but he wouldn't take no for an answer.  He practically barges into the loft and walks right in my bedroom. He fucking goes into my closet and picks out 3 shirts for me to choose from.  Then he has the balls to tell me that I should go shower and get ready as his mom is coming over to watch Gus while we go see some fucking drag queen at Babylon."

 

"You've been bombarded."

 

"Yeah.  I'm so fucking angry.  I remembered that whole conversation about anger and people drinking.  I don't think I drink because I'm angry but I do know I really want a drink."

 

As Justin listened without making any judgments or accusations, Brian appeared to calm down.

 

"Ted gave me these fidget things after my first meeting, he said that they help distract him.  I thought they were silly but I put one by the liquor cabinet. When I walked over there tonight, I saw it.  Instead of reaching for the bottle I reached for my phone and called you.  Not exactly sure what the hell you're going to do.  I could easily go over and pour myself a drink as we talk, not that you could really stop me."  Brian's urge to drink was strong but he figured that talking to Justin might help.  He didn't want to analyze the situation too much.  He wasn't one to ask for help but he recognized the need to reach out tonight or he would have most likely finished the entire bottle of Beam that was in his liquor cabinet.

 

"I'm glad you called.  You made the right choice."

"Explain to me how talking to you is the right choice,"  Brian's voice was slightly agitated; he appeared to be escalating again.

 

"You had a choice between drinking or calling me.  You made a conscious decision not to drink.  If you want to work the program, you need to make the choice not to drink."

 

"So... Are you the fucking equivalent of an angel on my shoulder?" The image made Brian smile when he thought about Justin as a small angel sitting on his shoulder.  "Whispering in my ear, you don't want to drink.  You don't want to drink."

 

Justin smiled at the image, remembering the various cartoons and shows he'd seen through the years with those images.  He'd never thought of himself as an angel and the depiction was amusing.

 

"No, Brian.  I'm not your conscience. I'm here to listen to you and to help you.  One of AA's prime principals is that we accept that we cannot do this alone.  There is a higher power that we sometimes need.  I know you don't believe in G-d and we talked about that issue.  Basically, it means that we realize that willpower alone is not enough to stop drinking."

 

"So what do I do now?"  Brian hated this back and forth, but he realized that just hearing Justin's voice and accepting that he was in his corner was actually helping.

 

"What do you want to do?"

 

"Justin....  If I fucking knew that, I wouldn't have called you. Quit your mumbo jumbo and tell me what I should do so I don't take a drink.  That bottle of Beam in the cabinet is really calling my name."

 

Justin took a deep breath.  This was probably one of the most important conversations he was going to have with Brian.  If Brian failed and took a drink, he would really question the value of AA and Justin's sponsorship.  He'd seen many people through the last year and watched their struggles and listened to their stories.  Time and time again people shared their breakthrough moment and he was always inspired by their stories.  He had been there and done that, now was his chance to help another person succeed in this difficult journey.

 

"Brian, Gus is there.  Right?  You said you were going to have him tonight.  That's why you went to the meeting in the afternoon?"

 

"Yeah, Gus is here."

 

"You said you want to stop drinking because of Gus."

 

"Right."

 

"Do you want to drink knowing Gus is in the other room?"

 

The question stopped Brian in his tracks.  While Gus was unlikely to wake up, he usually slept soundly, if Brian started to drink he would most likely drink the entire contents of the bottle.  He'd done that more times that he could count.  He'd start drinking and his next memory would be that the bottle was empty.  Unfortunately, there were way too many times where he just grabbed another bottle in an attempt to stop his brain from thinking about whatever situation he was dealing with at the time. He didn't want Gus to wake up in the middle of the night or in the morning and find him sprawled out on the couch where he passed out from the alcohol.

 

"No.  He's seen me drink a few beers at his soccer game or have a beer at Deb's but, he's never seen me passed out on the couch.  The way I feel right now, I'm pretty certain that he would find me here in the morning, passed out after drinking a bottle or two.  That is not a sight I ever want him to see."

 

When Brian said the words out loud, he looked toward his bedroom, saw the sleeping innocent child in the middle of the bed and the urge to open the liquor cabinet lessened.  He never wanted to hurt that little boy and he would do everything in his power to not cause him pain.  He did not want him to ever see his father drunk or hear about some horrible accident that was a result of his drinking. 

 

"Gus shouldn't grow up with a drunk for a father.  If he weren't here I'd probably already be through at least half that bottle of Beam, but I won't do that to him.  I won't have him wake up to his father passed out in the living room,"  Brian said.  Justin could hear the resolve in Brian's voice, but he also heard something else, but he wasn't sure what it was. 

 

Deciding to take a chance, he asked, " You said your father was an alcoholic and your mom drank a lot as well.  I take it that you found them passed out on more than one occasion?"

 

Brian said, "My dad was a mean drunk.  He would come home from the union hall almost every night and he was usually drunk.  I'd be watching tv or sitting on the couch; it didn't matter because my presence always made him angry.  He would hit me for some random indiscretion that only he knew about.  Sometimes I'd stay in my room in the evenings so he didn't see me, but he often times went there to find me so that he could hit me.  If he passed out after doling out my punishment for some unknown transgression, I don't have any idea.  I never went looking for him, staying clear to lick my wounds as it were."  The words came out of Brian as if he were telling about someone else's experience as if they didn't happen to him.  It was like he was an observer in the family's home and not a participant.  There was little emotion shared. 

 

"As for my mother,  I never saw her passed out either.  She was always drinking Sherry to calm her nerves. She was probably always a little tipsy.  Sort of hair of the dog thing.  I imagine she has never been really sober.  She just didn't drink into oblivion.   Not sure pops did either, but he was a mean drunk and I tried to stay out of his path."

 

"I'm sorry you had such difficult parents," Justin said, getting a glimpse into Brian's past and some knowledge of his drinking behavior. 

 

"Sorry's bullshit.  No apologies.  No regrets,"  Brian said, using one of his mottos. 

 

"Ouch.  So you have no regrets in your life?" Justin asked, wondering how anyone could go through life without wanting a few ‘do overs'.

 

"Doesn't do anyone any good.  You can't change the past and think about the crap that happened that can't be changed is just wasted thought."

 

"So wrapping your car around a tree is not something you regret?" Justin asked, trying to help this man and understand how his mind worked.

 

"No reason to waste thoughts on wishing it didn't happen.  Besides, it finally gave me the reason to stop drinking.  If this AA shit works, I won't regret wrapping my car around a tree.  My kid will never have to worry that he is taking his life in his hands any time he's with his old man; and I won't have to worry if I managed to balance the number of drinks that I had at his soccer game with my ability to safely navigate the road back to his house."

 

"So do you still want that drink?"

 

Brian did a quick check on his thoughts and realized that he didn't feel that overwhelming need to drown them in liquor. "No, I think I'm good.  Gus means more to me than the liquor in the cabinet."

 

"Good.  I'm glad I could help," Justin said, a small smile coming across his face as he realized he might really be able to help Brian, be a successful sponsor.  He already could tell from the few conversations they had in the last week that this man was complex and it appeared that he used alcohol to deal with difficult situations rather than face unpleasantness.  True, every alcoholic he'd ever met had a ton of emotional baggage as did most people.  The key was unraveling the baggage and discovering new ways to handle the uncomfortable parts of your life.

 

"Are you coming to the meeting tomorrow night or are you going to a different one earlier in the day?  If I remember correctly, you said you usually have Gus during the day on Saturday, but tomorrow will be different.  Doesn't he have something to do?"

 

Brian's first thought was to bristle at the question. After all, Justin was not his keeper; he didn't need to account to anyone about his plans or whereabouts.  If he didn't know better, it almost sounded like Mikey and his constant desire to know Brian's every move and commitment.  But he recognized the question for what it was, a way to change the topic and to offer something for Brian to look forward to and another chance to work the program. 

 

"Tomorrow night works.  After tonight I still don't think my presence at Babylon or Woody's is a good idea.  I might even be willing to be talked into tasting more than the coffee at the place down the street," Brian said tongue in cheek.  He realized he was actually looking forward to the meeting since he was fairly certain Justin was planning on being there. He still wanted to get into the man's pants, but his desire to do so had lessened in the week.  He was beginning to see that sex would complicate the situation and he could get his dick sucked anytime by anyone.  He was still very leery sharing his turmoils with people, but he was beginning to trust Justin to have his back. 

 

"Okay.  I'll see you tomorrow night."  There was a brief moment of silence and Justin added, "And Brian, I really am glad you called.  Have a good rest of your evening."

 

Brian heard the click on the phone, signaling that Justin had disconnected the call.  Brian looked toward the liquor cabinet, checking to be sure he really was over the strong desire to drink himself into oblivion and was somewhat surprised to feel that the urge was gone.  He would have to be lying to himself to think that he did not want a drink, but the almost uncontrollable urge to drown in a bottle was gone.  Glancing at Gus asleep on the bed, he whispered a quiet, "Thank you."

 

It was too early for him to retire, so he clicked on the TV, flipped the channels until he found  Rebel Without a Cause, and watched the movie. As the movie played, he allowed his mind to wander, not focusing on any area in particular.  Thoughts of Gus, Lindsay, Ted, Mikey, Blake, his accident, his first AA meetings, the call to Justin tonight all flitted in and out of his consciousness. 

 

When the movie was over, he yawned, realizing that he was actually tired.  As he readied himself for bed, he was taken slightly aback when he acknowledged that up until a few weeks ago, he often collapsed into bed, often due to inebriation rather than fatigue.  He was intrigued that he was beginning to hear the signals from his body, recognizing hunger, fatigue and even a little anxiety.  Deciding that this was something to examine at another time, he got into bed and went to sleep. 

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

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