Memories {A compilation of Britin short stories}

Story 32: Bruised {Part 11}

As Justin returned with the sandwich, Brian murmured his thanks. Slowly, his mood was shifting from numbness to anger. And he knew that soon, he would lash out at everyone close to him, no matter if they deserved it or not.

Justin sat down at the desk in the corner. He decided to distract himself by drawing. He grabbed a pencil and started drawing a sketch of Brian and how he looked when Justin had walked through the door and saw him in pain.

Brian pulled his knees to his chest and started on the sandwich. He felt so...wrong. there was a void inside of him of anger and misery and hurt and fear. And he couldn't talk about any of it. Because that would give the trick the satisfaction.

Justin focused on his work so he wouldn't have to think about his frustration and sadness.

As soon as Brian finished the sandwich, he stood and walked back into the bedroom. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to be doing.

Justin put his pencil down. His phone rang. He looked at the caller ID. It said Brian. But Brian didn't have his phone. The trick had stolen it. Justin picked up, keeping his voice down so Brian couldn't hear. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I was just checking in," the trick said, "Seeing how baby Brian was doing."

"Fuck you. You're lucky I don't turn your ass into the police."

"Who cares about some middle aged fag who got raped behind a gay bar? They wouldn't even investigate. Too bad you weren't at the bar that night. I would have loved to fuck you. Still might."

"Not even in your dreams. I know what kind of game you like to play."

Brian could hear Justin murmuring to someone, but he figured that it was just Jennifer of Daphne. After all, he had no reason to think the trick still had his phone. More than likely, he had sold it off to get more money. Jus twhat Brian needed. But what he really did need was a new phone.

"I have ways of getting what I want," the trick continued, "I wanted Brian Kinney and I got him. Now I want his little blonde piece of ass."

"You don't want to mess with me. Just try something. I dare you."

"I plan to." The phone went dead on the other end.

Justin hung up his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. What the fuck was this trick's problem?

Brian stumbled out of the bed, crossing his arms. "Who was on the phone?" he asked. The very least he could do was try to be kind to Justin. After all, he really did love Justin, and the boy ha dcome back. The idiot that he was. He would always keep coming back.

"Daphne," he lied. He didn't want to worry Brian by telling him about the trick. "She was mad because I haven't been to see her since I got back."

"You should go see her, then." He wasn't about to suggest that Justin bring her back here. He didn't think he would be able to handle it if Justin did.

"Yeah, maybe I should." But he wasn't going to Daphne's. He was going to Babylon. He was going to stop this trick from bothering him and Brian.

Brian nodded and held his hand out. He couldn't kiss Justin, he couldn't even hug him. But he could touch him before he left. "Be safe," he murmured.

Justin took Brian's hand and squeezed it. "I will." He smiled reassuringly at him and left the loft. He drove to Babylon. People were walking in and out drunk and sober. Justin got out the car and made his way to the entrance. He didn't get very far before he heard the trick call out his name. "Justin."

He turned around. "I knew I would find you here."

"I like patrolling. Babylon is the best place. So, are you coming to fuck me?"

"No, I'm coming to tell you to fuck off. Leave me and Brian alone."

The trick laughed and moved closer to Justin. "You don't get it, do you?" He slammed Justin against the wall making him hit the back of his head. "I enjoy the struggle, the chase. And I always get what I want."

Justin's vision started to go slightly blurry from the blow to his head. He tried to push the trick off of him. "Don't fucking touch me."

Emmett had seen Justin enter the club and he was more than a bit surprised. He thought that Justin would be hone taking care of Brian. After all, they seemed to still have...whatever they had. But instead, Justin disappeared.

So Emmett followed him. When he saw Justin go down, he reacted. "Hey! Get the fuck away from him!"

The trick lifted his head and saw Emmett coming towards him. He swore under his breath then slammed Justin's head against the wall again before taking off.

Justin fell to the ground on the verge of passing out. He coughed up blood as Emmett got to him.

Emmett pulled Justin into his arms, then grabbed his phone to call 911. "Come on, baby. Stay with me. Come on. Open your eyes. You're going to be fine."

Justin could see the blurred image of Emmett. His voice was muffled like he was underwater. He was choking on his own blood. He coughed up more blood then blacked out.

There was one good thing about watching more episodes of ER than Emmett could count. He moved Justin so that the boy wasn't choking and waited for the ambulance. "Come on. Think of Brian. Do something. Don't you fucking die on me, baby." Justin was family to him. He couldn't lose him.

Justin couldn't see anything. His eyes wouldn't open. The sounds around him were becoming less and less audible. He could feel someone's hands on him, but he couldn't remember who had come to his rescue. The ambulance came and hoisted Justin up onto the gurney. Once inside the truck, they went to work to try and keep Justin from bleeding out.

Since Brian wasn't there, Emmett rode in the back of the ambulance. He could only watch, tears rolling freely, as they tried to save him. There was a possibility of a skull fracture. Surgery would be required. With shaking hands, Emmett texted Brian.

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