Chapter 7

"What, what happened?" Michael asked in confusion, peering at his surroundings which was proving to be difficult considering his left eye was throbbing. Why was it throbbing? What happened? Where was he?

"Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital, Mikey."

"Hospital? What happened?" he asked again when suddenly he was overcome by pain and let out a hiss.

"Mikey?" Brian asked softly in concern. "What's wrong?"

If he were able to, Michael would shake his head. But it hurt too much. "I feel…I feel as though I was knocked over by a MACK truck. Was I?" he wondered, trying to concentrate on his best friend's features which were knitted in concern.

"No. Hold on, let me get your doctor," Brian told him as he stood up.

"No!" Michael vehemently protested, grabbing Brian's arm, pulling him back. "No, please. Don't go." His heart was racing in fear.

Swallowing, Brian nodded. "All right, but I swear if the pain worsens, I want you to tell me the moment it happens and I'll get the doctor or nurse."

"Okay," he said, taking a breath to calm down. "Can you uh, can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," Brian told him and he meant it.

"I'm, I'm thirsty. Is there—" his warbled voiced trailed off.

Brian found a pitcher of water and plastic cup and poured it and then he handed it to his best friend who tried to take it in his hands when he moved back, gasping in pain, as the water spilled on himself. Hazel eyes widened in fear. "Mikey, what is it?"

Michael clutched his injured hand to his chest. "My, my hand. My wrist..." He looked at it and noticed that it was in a cast.

Shit, Brian had momentarily forgotten about that. "I shouldn't have…here, Mikey," Brian said softly as he refilled the cup and brought it to Michael's lips which greedily downed it.

"Thank you," Michael told him as he leaned against the pillows, once he'd been satiated.

"Better?" Brian asked him as he pulled a stool over to the side of Michael's bed, needing to be closer to him.

"Yeah. Tell me, please," he pleaded and how could Brian refuse those big brown eyes? He was always a sucker for them.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Brian said, "Maybe, maybe I should just get your doctor."

"I don't want the fucking doctor, Brian, I want the fucking truth and I want you to tell me. Please."

Heaving a sigh, Brian agreed. But first he had to know something. "What do you remember?"

"I…I came home and was upset about what happened at Mel's with Jenny Rebecca," he admitted, not noticing as Brian flinched in remembrance of the awful scene at the muncher's house. "I was alone and I went into her room and I fell asleep in her rocking chair."

Brian nodded in recognition as Hunter had deduced as much.

"Then I woke up and it was late…early…morning I think. I don't remember the time. I heard Ben and Hunter's voices growing loud so I went downstairs and I overheard Ben." Michael closed his eyes trying to remember the conversation. "He…he was so cruel to Hunter. I told him to stop it and to apologize to Hunter. He did. I told Hunter to go up to bed."

Again, Brian knew as much. The rest though, was inferred from Hunter. Brian needed to hear it from Michael's mouth. He needed the cold, hard, ugly truth.

Michael was trying to concentrate on what happened and then he clammed up. "Do you remember what else happened?" Brian prodded him gently and Michael stuttered that he didn't.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Michael said, unconvincingly. Brian hesitated, not knowing if pressing Michael for details that he may or may not remember could do him harm but at the same time, he didn't want his best friend to bottle things up as was his general proclivity. Things were too serious right now. He needed Michael to know that he could confide in him, that he could trust him. The problem was how did he get him to realize that?

"Okay," he finally stated, agreeing with Michael. Maybe if Michael sees that I'm on his side, he'll trust me, thought Brian.

Michael was surprised that Brian wasn't badgering him for more details. As it was though, things were hazy. His head felt so full. And despite having just woken up, he felt tired, as if he'd gone a few rounds with Tyson or someone or…

Closing his eyes to try to get some sleep (regardless of Brian's presence), Michael was out of luck as his mind was on overdrive, flashing bits and pieces of the previous night. He and Ben fought—about Ben being an ass to Hunter, about Ben being out with "friends" of his that Michael had never met. It had escalated rather quickly and he had had enough and was going to bed (alone) when Ben prevented him by grabbing and twisting his wrist and when Michael put up a fight that just incensed his husband even further. Biting his lower lip, tears formed in his eyes as he recalled the moment when his own husband sucker punched him. No wonder his eye was throbbing.

"Oh God," he moaned aloud, not realizing that Brian was looking at him in concern. Michael remembered kneeing Ben in the groin and trying to run off when Ben caught him and slammed him hard against the wall. "Oh God," he wailed again, this time being unable to prevent the tears from falling.

"Michael?" Brian's voice was barely a whisper. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Brian's voice was so gentle and so unlike him that it was hard for Michael to grasp. "No," he admitted through tears. "I'm not okay. I don't know if I ever will be."

The sound of Michael's dejected and very pained voice killed Brian. "Oh Mikey…" he stood up, not knowing what to do, how to help his best friend. He hated this. He needed to do something.

"You know what happened, don't you? You know what Ben did to me."

Nodding slowly, Brian said, "Yes. I mean, I know what Hunter told me. And I pieced together some things based on…"

"Based on my injuries," provided Michael. Suddenly, a thought dawned on him. "Hunter! Oh God is he—he's not hurt, is he? Please, Brian, tell me that Ben didn't hurt my son," Michael implored.

"Hey, hey," Brian said softly. "Hunter is just fine. I promise. He's actually at my loft right now."

Michael managed to raise his (good) eyebrow, questioning Brian's actions. Brian then explained why he thought the loft was a good choice and how he promised to call Hunter when Michael was awake. "Shit," he began. "I should call him.

Looking back over at his friend who seemed to be suffering some kind of hell that Brian didn't want to imagine, he added, "I'll go right outside and call him and then let your doctor know you're awake and I'm sure he'll come in and examine you."

"No," Michael's voice was quiet but firm. This time, Brian raised a brow at him.

"Don't go," he added softly. "Please. Don't leave me, Brian."

If his chest could explode, it would have right then and there. Michael wanted him to stay. That was pretty major. Well, Brian would do anything for him, so he nodded his assent.

"What…is there? What can I do for you?" Brian stuttered, not knowing what to ask.

"I'm such a fucking idiot."

Brian did not expect those words to come out of his friend's mouth. "What the fuck? Don't say that, Michael. You are not an idiot."

"It's true. I really am an idiot. And not just because I didn't finish college or was a manager at the Big Q for a couple of months before owning a comic book store," he snorted derisively at that, which made Brian angry (but not at Michael) because he never looked down upon Mikey for his education or his career path.

"I'm an idiot because the signs were there and yet I ignored them. I'm an idiot because I let that…person…into my life and into the lives of my children. I'm an idiot because I gave and gave and yet again what did I get for it? I'm an idiot because once again I actually believed it when a guy told me he loved me. I mean that is fucking ridiculous."

Rubbing his hands together, Brian had to back away from the bed, because he didn't want Michael to see how angry he was, but he had to convey that that attitude was bullshit.

"Bullshit. That's not the truth and you and I both know it. I'm sure the Professor fed you a bunch of lies. And yeah, you lapped them up with a spoon but not because you're stupid. You're not. He's a mother fucking asshole and I swear I will kill him."

"Brian."

"What? You don't think I'm serious? I don't care how fucked up on the 'roids he is. I'll take him."

Michael didn't doubt that, but the last thing he needed was his best friend in jail for murdering Ben. "You're not going to touch him, you hear me? I'm not letting him hurt you…"

Brian was touched at his friend's thoughtfulness, as unnecessary as it was. "Hey. It's going to be okay, all right?"

"Don't placate me, Brian. I understand why you might want to but please, I can't take that."

Sighing, Brian nodded. "Okay, I won't," he promised. "What do you want me to tell you?"

"There's nothing for you to tell. I got into a bad fight and I lost, as per usual."

Narrowing his eyes, Brian wanted to protest, but Michael wasn't having any of it. So he tried another tactic. "What, exactly, have you lost?"

Opening his eyes in surprise, Michael said, "Are you kidding me?"

Shrugging, Brian said, "I'm perfectly serious. What have you lost? An asshole that didn't deserve you in the first place? Good riddance to bad rubbish as some might say."

"But…"

"But nothing. I know you, Michael. And I know how your mind works and where it's going right now. It doesn't need to go there though."

Brian was gutted when he heard Michael mumble "You used to know me," under his breath. Did Michael really feel that way? Was he right? Was there that large of a gulf between them? Could they ever get their friendship back on track? Could there be new episodes of The Brian and Mikey Show?

~&~&~&.~&~&~&~

"What is taking so long?" Debbie whined to Carl. "Why hasn't Michael woken up?"

Shaking his head, the detective said, "I don't know, Deb. It must have been quite the blow to his head."

Eyes widening, Debbie put her hands on her hips. Shit, thought Carl, he hadn't meant to say that.

"How did this happen to my baby?"

"I don't know, but I promise you, I will find out and make sure that whoever did this," his voice trailed off, seeing the pain on his lover's face.

"I," she began, shaking her head. "I just can't. It couldn't have been Ben. Brian is wrong."

Carl just stared at her, wondering if she was being serious.

"Ben must be back on steroids," offered Carl. "I've seen what they can do to a person." As a cop he had seen just about everything.

Shaking her red wig, Debbie refused to see the truth. "No. Ben is not back on drugs. He did not do this to my son—"

Carl began to protest but Deb held up her hand to stop him. "No. He wouldn't. He loves Michael. He would never hurt him like that, never." Her eyes flared in resolve, daring him to argue with her. Her boyfriend just stood there and sighed. She was the most stubborn woman he had ever met.

Changing her tone to a softer one, Debbie whispered, "I know my son-in-law. I know my son. Brian is wrong. He has to be. Ben did not do this."

Carl wanted to ask her why she was so willing to disbelieve Brian, the man she had known two-thirds of his life, the man who grew up with her son and for so long was another son to her, but he didn't get the opportunity as they heard footsteps walk towards them and faced a very upset teenager and Brian's…well Carl did not know how to classify Justin and Brian's relationship…lover.

"You're wrong. Brian is right. Ben did this to him," Hunter was adamant.

Shaking her head, Debbie vainly tried to plead with him. "He wouldn't."

Biting his upper lip, Hunter spit out, "You don't fucking know what he would do. You weren't there. I was. Ben was all hopped up on 'roids and he did this. He put your son in that hospital bed!"

He was yelling now and people were beginning to stare but Hunter didn't give a damn. He was not about to let Debbie railroad them by saying that Ben couldn't do it. Ben did do it.

"Hunter," Justin whispered, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder to which Hunter shrugged off. He didn't need or want the twink's sympathy.

"I don't care what any of you think. None of you were there. I was. Ben did this and I will swear to it in a court of law," he said, focusing his intent gaze on Detective Horvath.

Her body shaking, Debbie moaned, "I…Ben…Michael…I…"

Justin rushed to her side and placed a warm arm around her waist. "Shh," he soothed, "it's going to be okay."

Hunter glared at him. "Easy for you to say. You weren't beaten by your lover."

"Hunter!" Deb reprimanded. "Need I remind you…?"

"Yeah, I know. Justin got bashed in the skull by a homophobe. I've been told the story plenty of times. And it sucks what that coward did to him. But this was worse for one reason: it was by the man that Michael loves and who claimed to love him."

~&~&~&.~&~&~&~

"Mikey," Brian began, trying to get his best friend to listen to him. But Michael just lay perfectly still in bed and didn't say anything. He was tired. It wasn't long before they heard loud voices arguing outside. Running a tired hand through his hair, Brian sighed. Deb. And Hunter. Fuck, can't they keep it down?

Instead, the voices grew louder and Michael clearly grew agitated. "God damn it can't they give it a rest while I'm in the hospital for fuck's sake?"

Brian gave him a look. "You know Deborah Jean."

Rolling his eyes, Michael tried to lift the pillow to cover his ears, but he was in too much pain and winced when he tried. With a defeated groan, he closed his eyes but the yelling was only growing louder.

Brian had enough. "Fuck this shit," he snarled and stomped off. Hearing his footsteps, Michael weakly called out, "Wait, don't go…please…"

His tone nearly did Brian in. "I'll be right back." With that promise he exited the room and walked into the hall where Debbie and Hunter were verbally sparring, Justin and Carl throwing in a few words when they had the opportunity.

"Christ will you four shut the fuck up?" he yelled at them. Four pairs of eyes landed in surprise on him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Debbie asked.

Hunter rolled his eyes; it was pretty evident that Brian had been in Michael's room.

"Brian," Justin called out.

Nodding in Justin's direction, Brian said, "Sunshine. How did you find out?"

Hesitating, Justin explained that he went to the loft and was surprised to find the teen there. Of course Brian wondered why Justin was at his loft…was he going to have to get the locks changed? He didn't say that though, this was neither the time nor the place for that discussion.

"Now that I have your attention, I'd like to say one thing and one thing only: shut the fuck up."

"You already said that when you got out here," Justin pointed out to Brian's aggravation.

"Yeah well I mean it. You could wake the dead with your yelling. I don't think the patients or this hospital needs it—"

Debbie cut him off at the quick. "Yes because you're Mr. Altruistic when it comes to perfect strangers."

"No," admitted Brian. "But I am when it comes to your son. He's awake now."

All four gaped in shock. "What? How? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell us? Why aren't his doctors in with him?" All four cornered him for information that he was unwilling to give. He simply turned on his heel and went back into Michael's room.

~&~&~&.~&~&~&~

"I'm coming!" yelled a flustered Melanie Marcus as she ran downstairs into the livingroom with the baby in her arms to answer the doorbell. Whoever it was better have a good reason because the ringing door woke up the baby who was still fussing.

After unlocking the latch she flung the door open (without asking who it was) and let out a lackluster, "Oh, it's you."

"And a nice hello to you too, Melanie," greeted Ted, his focus not on Melanie but on the baby…Michael's baby.

Melanie looked at her friend in confusion. They didn't have a "date" to meet, why was Teddy on her doorstep with a forlorn look on his face as he stared at her daughter?

"You woke her up, you know."

"I thought she was up pretty early?" he wondered, from his recollection.

"Yeah well she's having trouble sleeping because she's teething."

"Oh," Ted said, not uninterested just unsure as he didn't know all that much about babies. He liked them fine enough but wouldn't call himself a natural, not like Michael was. Even when he took the time, Brian was pretty decent; at least he seemed to be with Gus.

Sighing, Melanie asked him if he was going to stand on her stoop all day or tell her what was up. He asked if that was her way of inviting him inside so she did, hoping for some answers.

"It's not a legal matter, is it?" Melanie asked once they were back inside.

Shaking his head, Ted said it wasn't. He continued to stare at the baby. She was so pretty and resembled both parents but she favored Michael more, especially her long lashes.

Growing concerned by Ted's attention on her daughter, Melanie held Jenny Rebecca tightly to her chest. "I think I know why you're here and I want you to leave."

Taking his eyes off the baby and back onto his friend, Ted wanted to know why she was going to kick him out before he even told her why he was there.

"Because, I don't want to argue with you about Michael's visitation with Jenny Rebecca."

"I'm not here to—" he began but she cut him off.

"Look, I'm sure he told you how big bad evil Melanie was a bitch to him yesterday and wouldn't let him visit with her because the social worker didn't show up."

"What?" Ted asked, thoroughly confused.

"Come on, Teddy. I'm sure Michael confided in you and Emmett about what happened."

"Actually, he didn't. I'm not coming here to talk to you about that."

"Oh," Melanie said her voice quieter. "Then why?"

"I am here to talk to you about Michael. To let you know…" his voice trailed off, not knowing how to share the news, not knowing if she would even give a damn what happened to his best friend, a man she used to care about—enough to create a child with him.

Swallowing, Ted found his voice. "Michael is in the hospital. I thought, well as the mother of Michael's child, I thought you should know."

"Hospital?" Melanie asked in disbelief. "Was he in a car accident?" When Ted shook his head, she briefly wondered, "Overdose?" to which his eyes widened in horror.

"Michael wouldn't." Melanie bit back the retort that no one thought that Ted would overdose but he had. She instead pressed him for details.

"Look, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but again, you're Jenny Rebecca's mother. He was assaulted last night."

"Assaulted?" she whispered in horror. "Like Justin?"

Shaking his head, Ted whispered, "Not quite. It was…a domestic situation."

Alarms rang off in her head. Domestic? Then that meant…Ben? Professor Benjamin Bruckner, Mr. Zen Buddhist?

"Ben put Michael in the hospital? Jesus."

"Anyway, I thought you should know. What you do with that information, it's up to you. I can't tell you what to do about your custody situation. I do know that once he's feeling better, nothing would make him happier than seeing his daughter."

Melanie looked deep in thought and Ted worried what she might say. "And in case you were wondering, he did not put me up to this. Michael's still unconscious."

Fuck! What was she supposed to do with this?

~&~&~&...TBC...~&~&~&~