The Suffering Of Fools (IJ Fanfic, Sal Vulcano X Brian Quinn)

Part 30

He felt numb after saying it, and didn't understand why he had to tell Q the way he did; the words just fell from his lips in a tumbled mess.

Brian stood, frozen in the doorway - processing the shadows of the words that littered the thick and uncomfortable silence between them.

Neither man said anything, and the air became thick and weighted around them.

Finally, Q moved.

He stepped slowly back into the house, and clicked the door shut without turning back to face Sal.

Leaning his heavy forearms against the door, he rested his head upon them - and soon his broad frame began to shake with gentle and silent sobs.

Sal gazed at him with guilt from across the room, and watched as pains of the heart wracked the other man. He watched him, unable to drag his eyes from the lightly shuddering form; judging how to react.

He had never known Q to cry; not even in the deepest depths of his depression; and hated how he had caused those glistening beads of the soul to surface.

Pulling himself to his feet, he softly and carefully crossed the space between them - soundless.

He stood beside Q, and stared with pity at the now motionless body supported only by the door upon which he leant; face still buried. Tentatively and with great caution, Sal reached out a hand, and placed it comfortingly on Brian's shoulder.

He expected to be shaken off; to be rejected, and told of how they should never meet again; but instead Q simply shifted against Sal's chest; to be held in his arms, face still hidden.

With this, Sal's soul melted: for he had broken and bruised his dearest friend beyond the depths of anger into which he seldom grasped, to leave only a hollowed and shadowy whisp of the man whom he loved.

Still holding Q, he slid onto the floor; with Brian now leaning against his shoulder rather than his broad and plentiful chest. They sat there like that for what felt like eternity, before the silence was broken by Q's cracked and wounded words, all malice now lost.

"So, that's it then? We're done?" he asked, sounding tired and quite aged.

"No, Brian, no" he choaked, sickened by how he mirrored Clarabelle's now betrayed words. "No - Not if we try."

"How?" he asked, but the question was merely rhetorical - for he saw no way in which their love could prevail. "You've always wanted a kid, and now you've got your chance. With her."

"I know I want the kid," Sal cried, "but I don't want her, Brian, I want you."

Q looked at him, surprised by his words.

"Q, I love you." he pleaded, urging him to see the honesty in his tone, fresh tears welling up inside him. "I'm only with her because of the kid, Bri. I don't want her, I don't want Jamie, I don't want any of it. I'm only staying because I can't bear the thought of her raising my kid, with me never being able to hold it, rock it to sleep, watch it take its first steps. Q, I don't know what to do - I only know I want to do it with you and my baby."

Q was silent, and shifted round to look Sal in the eye, and in that moment, they both understood.

Leaning, forehead to forehead, they held eachother; safe in the knowledge that no matter what, they cared for eachother more than life itself.