This chapter was written listening to Parce Mihi Domine and No More Good Guys by Skindive (The song that plays when Brian drops Justin off "How could you just leave like that!") on repeat. Knowing the lyrics to the songs that go with the scenes is extremely helpful in writing for the characters. Thank you so much for following this story! It was really fun to write!

Brian was silent as they got in the car. So was Justin. Both felt the weight of what they were doing heavy on their shoulders. Justin was lost in thought as they drove. Brian was lost in memories. He hated the feeling of being left alone that being without Justin had given him, but he also hated the feeling of pain that emanated from Justin as they sat beside each other. He felt like he was sitting next to a living corpse; he could feel Justin sinking, his hope capsized and drowning beneath his lost memories.

How is hurting him going to fucking help him? It's not helping me.

Brian pulled slowly into the parking space that his car had inhabited a few months before. He watched as Justin opened the door, got out. Then he took a breath and got out of the car as well.

Peering around the building that held so much pain, he nodded a bit to himself. This is to help Justin. I can do this. No vulnerability allowed. An image of blue and red lights flashed across his mind and he glanced down. Then he shifted a bit and looked up.

"You walked down with me, back to the Jeep," he remembered the laughter, the incredible smile that had been lighting up the world. He stepped towards the car. "We were, uh, goofing. Singing. And we were dancing." God, I wish we were back there again. I wish I could do that again. He touched Justin. He wanted to see that grin again. Justin backed away and Brian backed off, looking straight ahead again. "I kissed you, we said later." He swallowed, the memory making him want to go back in time. "And then you turned around and, um, smiled. Then I knew why Debbie calls you Sunshine." You were so beautiful. I didn't want to stop looking at that smile. But I haven't seen it in a while. Hobbes took it away. He stared at Justin, realized how vulnerable he had just sounded. Shit. He took a breath. This was the hard part. He didn't want to think about this.

"And then I went back to the Jeep, and….I s-saw him… in the mirror, coming after you."

'Justin!' He could hear his own voice, pitched too high, crying out a warning. The image of the kid with the bat flashed in front of his eyes, the fear filled his gut once again. He turned to one side, squeezing his eyes shut against the images on the back of his eyelids. Too fucking vulnerable, weak. No, God. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. No, no, no, no. Justin, don't die on me, don't die, hang on. Justin, collapsing. Blood running down his face, onto Brian's hands. Kisses onto clammy pale skin. Flashing red and blue lights. Justin's limp, unresponsive body in Brian's arms.

He rocked, unable to keep himself together, unable to keep the images away, unable to dull the pain. The dull ache of fear in his gut roiled. He wanted to curl in on himself, to roll into a ball and squeeze his eyes shut so the images in his head would go away. In his mind, he heard the thud of wood on bone, the clatter of a bat to the cement.

"Christ!" he let the anguish out in a yell, then softened when he realized he might have scared Justin. "Don't you…. remember anything?" I wish I didn't remember anything. I cant get that night out of my head. I cant stop thinking about it. Letting out a breath of pain and frustration, he stared at the spot where Justin had laid, still seeing his body there in his mind's eye.

He heard Justin sigh, felt him step closer. He couldn't look away from the ground, from his memories, from that night. He remembered blood on the ground, a pale white scarf on pale white skin, both marred with red. What if I'd lost him? It was my fault. Hobbes wouldn't have done that if I hadn't kissed him. God, what if I'd lost him? He breathed hard, trying to calm himself, trying to will away or suppress the fear, the despair, the pain he still felt in the pit of his stomach. He could feel the memories there, too. He felt Justin's hands pawing at him, trying to comfort him.

"I wish I could remember."

Brian opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He tried to come back to the present, and was only partially successful. 'Just- don't go. No, no, no. You have to stay here. Justin!'

"I wish I could forget." He felt Justin tugging gently at his shirt, and for a moment was irrationally afraid to look at him, afraid he'd see the bloody, slack face, all the sunshine gone. He blinked, grimaced, shook his head to clear it. He's alive, remember? It's okay. He let out a cathartic sigh and slowly looked over at Justin. He was met with concerned blue eyes.

"Brian?"

"I….I just…." He stared at the spot where Justin had once laid in a pool of blood, where he had once knelt, his legs falling asleep, where his life had crumpled in moments along with his sunshine. Shit. I cant think about this any more. "L-let's go."

Justin followed his gaze on the cement, eyes void of recognition, but full of the same frustrated pain that Brian felt. He nodded, and looked back up at him, brushing his hand along Brian's arm. Brian could tell that Justin wanted to touch him, to hug him, but was both afraid to for himself and afraid to for Brian.

He watched Justin turn and get in the car. Letting out a few deep breaths, Brian pulled himself back into the now and joined the blonde, turning on the car and backing out, itching to get out of that place as fast as possible.

**********

Back at the loft, Brian chain smoked three cigarettes, standing beside the window, looking out at the lights of Pittsburgh. Then he decided to take a shower. He stepped into the steaming water, leaning his head against the tile. Going to that place had hurt him a hell of a lot more than it had hurt Justin. And fuck Alex for thinking that it would help. The aching he felt was now sharper, deeper, fresher than before, as if someone had untied the stitches on a wound before it could start healing.

He sighed and shut off the water. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweats and a wifebeater.

"It's Gus's birthday tomorrow," He said over his shoulder. Justin looked up at him from his book. "The munchers are having a party. Do you…do you want to go?" Justin looked down, chewing his lip. "We don't have to if-"

"No," Justin interrupted him. "I want to go. If I cant handle it, which I can, I'll ask you if we can leave."

"I….all right." Brian nodded. "Come to bed? I'm not….I wont…I'm not gonna…" He couldn't form the words to what he was trying to say.

Justin nodded. "I know."

He put the book down and stepped into the bedroom, tugging off his jeans but not his shirt. They got into bed together. Brian was careful to stay on his side, but Justin tentatively slid closer, permitting Brian to slide a hand up to rest on his arm. Brian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and allowed himself to sleep.

**********

"Are you sure you want to go?" He asked again for the millionth time. He just wanted to make sure Justin was totally okay.

The blonde rolled his eyes in the ultimate teenager fashion. "Yes, Brian. I want to go. I want to be there for Gus's first birthday. And you should be there. He's your son."

"Yeah. Okay. Why don't you clean up and we'll get going to the munchers' soirée." Justin nodded and headed to the shower.

Brian stood beside his computer and frowned at the date. Gus's birthday. And then he remembered what had also happened on Gus's birthday. He had met Justin. And the persistent little twink had stayed. For a year, now.

He almost didn't, a little voice whispered. You almost lost him. Brian shook his head and looked up to see Justin standing in the doorway, dressed and ready to go, an uncertain but determined look on his face.

***********

"Justin! Hi!" Mel and Lindz were grinning like crazy. Brian noticed Lindsay visibly restrain herself from hugging Justin. Brian had alerted them to his aversion to physical contact, and they had agreed not to touch Justin unless he initiated it.

Justin smiled crookedly and waved. "Hi, guys."

Brian gave Lindsay a kiss on the cheek and raised an eyebrow at Melanie, who gave him a rather annoyed look, then turned to take care of another guest who had just walked in.

"Go on in. Everyone's in the backyard," Lindsay told them. "But careful! There are many children running about."

"Yeah, you might get you clothes dirty." Melanie deadpanned over her shoulder. Brian sneered at her before turning back to Justin, who nodded and led him toward the back.

"Sunshine!" Debbie turned, grinning and opened her arms. When Justin shied away, she dropped them, rubbing her hands together. "Sorry, honey."

Smiling apologetically, Justin ran a hand across the back of his neck. "It's okay. Hi." She grinned at him, then hurried off as her name was called. Brian noticed Justin pinch the bridge of his nose, blinking.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Can we just…not go out there? Too many…"

"People?" Brian nodded. He knew.

"Yeah."

Melanie clapped her hands, making both Brian and Justin jump as she breezed by them out to the deck. "Okay! Time to sing to the birthday boy!" Everyone gathered around Lindsay, who held Gus on her lap as the crowd sang to them. Justin and Brian hung back, Brian on the steps leading down to the deck, Justin just outside of the doorway, his expression dark. Neither of them sang.

Everyone clapped and cheered as Debbie entered, carrying a big white and yellow cake. Brian watch Lindz and Mel blow the candles out for Gus, not sure whether to feel proud or freaked out. Mel stood up.

"You know, I would just like to say what a thrill it is for Lindsay and me to be celebrating our beautiful son's very first birthday. And how happy we are. How very happy that you're all here to share it with us." She looked at Justin, who gave her a small, reluctant smile. Brian glared at her, but she didn't see it. You think you're happy, how do you think I feel?

Debbie's loud voice cut through. "Will you cut the schmaltz so I can cut the cake?" Everyone laughed, and the party continued. Brian couldn't decide whether to keep his eye on Justin, or watch Gus. He finally decided that Justin was close enough to him, and so looked at his son.

Once everyone had had their fill of cake, Mel's voice called out, "Present time!" and everyone gathered again. Brian watched with a sort of faint disgust as Gus's presents were opened. He'd always hated birthdays. They were stupid and just meant you were another year more ancient. Another year closer to wrinkles and grey hairs and…ugh, he didn't want to think about it.

"Ooohhh!" Everyone's voice pitched higher as Lindsay pulled a miniature, sunshine yellow plastic baseball bat from the newest box.

"Let's see!" Lindsay put the bat in Gus's tiny hands, wrapping her own around his and using his arms to wave the bat around. "Yes, oh, look!" She turned to Brian, who was watching the proceedings, slightly amused at his little son. "You're son's gonna be a baseball player."

"Yeah, well, if you make a man out of him, I'm gonna hold you personally responsible." He quipped with a smirk. She and Mel rolled their eyes and turned their attention back to the little boy.

"Oohhh!" They waved the bat around, showing Gus how to hold and swing it. "Baseball!"

Brian watched, not really interested, but he liked watching his son, even if the women and Emmett were coddling him. He smirked.

A small groan from Justin made him turn, in time to see Justin's head jerk to the right, eyes shut tight, as if being hit by something. A bat.

"Justin." He got up, eyes wide. Fear was scribbling away in his gut again. Shit. Not again. No.

Justin's eyes opened wide and he let out a breath, holding out his hand to ward Brian away from touching him, but Brian ignored it and wrapped his arms around the blonde, clutching him to his chest. For a moment, Justin resisted, then wrapped his arms around Brian, holding on to him. Brian held him close, rocking him gently as they stood in the doorway, then, still clinging to Justin's small frame, Brian pulled them both slowly inside. He pulled gently away and looked at Justin, whose eyes were closed, his hands clutched to the fabric of Brian's shirt, face contorted with pain. Brian slowly guided him outside, helping him into the car. They drove in silence, Justin leaning his head against the cool window, eyes still shut tight, his right hand held protectively against his stomach, his left cradling it gently.

Brian got out of the car and walked around to the other side. He slowly opened the passenger side door. "Justin." Justin looked up at his name, but his eyes were dark and far away. Brian slid his arms around the blonde and helped him out of the car and up the stairs to the loft. He was silent and unresponsive as Brian pushed him gently into the bedroom and onto the bed, pulling off his shoes and socks and jeans. Is he going to say anything? What's wrong with him? God, is he going to be okay? It wasn't until Brian pulled the jeans free that Justin moved, curling into the fetal position on top of the sheets, still cradling his hand. Brian stood and switched off all the big lights, leaving Justin alone to sleep.

Brian paced the darkened loft, thinking. Which, of course, was never a good sign. But he didn't know what the fuck was going on. What was that? Is he all right? God, it was like the bashing all over again, but this time he's still awake. What's wrong with him? If he's hurt, I'm gonna…. Shit, what the fuck just happened?

He moved to the phone, for a moment thinking of calling Alex and asking him what the hell just happened, but he really didn't want to talk to the guy. He didn't want to hear another voice right now. So he paced, until he had to do something with his hands, so he quietly turned on the kitchen light and made himself dinner to eat, even though he wasn't really hungry. He finished making food and then realized he really didn't want it at all. He put it in the refrigerator.

The brush of fabric from the bedroom caught his attention, and he decided to check on the sleeping boy. He switched off the rest of his lights, walking slowly up to the bedroom. He stopped when he saw that the blonde was awake, nervousness and uncertainty flooding him. Justin looked at him, through him. Brian tried futilely to hide the fear in his eyes.

"Better now?" Are you okay? Shit, you scared me. Justin nodded.

"Mhmm."

Brian didn't know what to do. He scratched at his back, uncertain, then moved slowly to sit on the edge of his bed. He rubbed his hands along his bent legs, looked at Justin. Fuck. He didn't know how to be dishonest in front of Justin, not when it was his fault, not when they were both so vulnerable.

"You really freaked me out."

Justin smiled a bit, chuckling, "What, you?" Sunshine, you have no idea how scared I was.

He scratched the back of his neck, nervous, shaken. I never want to see that again. What happened? Christ, it…I was so freaked. "It was like you got hit, all over again." He looked at Justin, who took a small breath.

"I remembered walking away, and….suddenly hearing your voice call my name. To warn me." He looked at Brian. "You never told me about that." Because it didn't help. It just made things worse. "You tried to save me."

He looked away. "Guess I forgot." I couldn't tell you…that was- I was too vulnerable already. Justin moved closer, so their legs were touching. Brian looked up at the contact as Justin's hand moved to his shoulder.

"Guess it's a good thing one of us remembered." So you're okay? He watched Justin move closer, lips automatically parting to kiss him. The kiss was tentative, gentle, loving, almost. Nothing like their usual make out sessions. He pulled back, watching Justin, aware of his left hand at the open hem of his shirt. He felt the slide of silk on his skin, and Justin was looking down at the bloodied scarf as he pulled it from concealment.

They both stared at it. For some reason, Brian felt as if Justin had just uncovered an enormous, painful secret, even though the did not remember the complete significance of the scarf. He realized could no longer remember the white silk in its pure form. Now it was just a stained, damaged memory that he couldn't get rid of. Justin's eyes held no recognition or realization to the hurt it held. But he looked questioningly at Brian, as if realizing that Brian was in as much pain as he was, just different.

Yeah, Sunshine, he hurt me just as much as he hurt you. I haven't been able to let go either. You cant ever know what that did to me. How fucked up I was. I'm sorry.

He watched Justin glance at him, then drop the scarf onto the floor, out of sight. Somehow, Brian felt like something had just detached itself from his chest and fallen away. Justin scooted closer, putting his hand on Brian's leg, his face close to Brian's, their foreheads nearly touching.

"I want you inside me." Brian looked up. At first he thought he had imagined those words. The words of Justin letting go, allowing himself to be touched again. But he looked at the boy's face and saw the fear, the determination, the trust there.

He shrugged, uncertain. What if I hurt him? "Are you sure?"

Justin nodded. "Yeah. Just…take it easy."

I'm scared I'll hurt you. But, wait….you don't blame me. It's not my fault? I don't want to hurt you. I just want you to be okay. Go slow…"Like…the first time?"

Justin smiled slightly. Brian guessed that he, too, knew what else had happened today a year ago.

Justin slowly slid Brian's shirt off his shoulders and ran a hand across his back, leaning in to kiss him. There was reassurance in the kiss, a reassurance that he was okay, that it wasn't Brian's fault, that it would get better. Justin pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, then gently helped Brian pull out of his jeans. Brian moved away, scooting back on the bed and sliding off his boxers. He made sure to keep all his movements slow, fluid, in case Justin freaked out. Justin moved with him, and Brian craned his neck slightly, needing the contact, afraid to initiate it. But Justin moved close to him, kissing him as he pulled off his own boxers.

For a while, they just kissed. Soft, chaste kisses that moved to gentle exploring when Justin initiated it. Then Justin was pulling away, leaning their foreheads together.

"Please." The soft, nearly broken, imploring sound made Brian want go back in time and reverse everything. But instead he ran a gentle hand down Justin's side as the blonde lay down on his stomach. Everything was going to be all right. If Justin was letting go, he could, too.

He lay down on his side beside Justin, and pulled the boy's body flush against his. For a moment they just lay that way, breathing together, savoring the still contact. First Brian just moved against Justin, simply rubbing their skin together, the soft contact a reassurance that they were both alive and okay. The brush of their skin made his senses tingle, and he felt himself grow hard. He looked at Justin, who nodded slowly.

Gently, he lined himself up with Justin's hole, moving his body slowly. He felt Justin's hand on his thigh, heard his soft sigh of release, and kissed his neck tenderly. The pulse beneath his lips was yet another wonderful reassurance. Brian's body tingled, he felt a soft warmish glow start in his stomach and spread. If this was what letting go felt like, it was incredible. Brian had never felt this way before. He let his emotions out through the kisses he placed on Justin's neck. Justin's hand reached up and carded through his hair, a gentle signal of allowance.

Slowly, so slowly, Brian pushed in, capturing Justin's lips in a soft kiss, allowing him to tangle their fingers together. He stopped, letting Justin to adjust to him, he himself adjusting.

"Brian." Just his name, soft, barely audible. Brian kissed the side of Justin's neck, and began to move, slowly, gently. He kept one hand on Justin's hip, the other clung to Justin's fingers.

Justin's soft sighs, the gentle breaths he took, calmed Brian. They held hands beneath Justin's head, the side of his face where the newly-healed scar was, brushing softly against their entwined fingers as his sighs allowed them to let go of the pain. Brian leaned over, and when Justin pulled his head down, he knew the boy was all right. He kissed Justin gently, telling him without words that he, too, was letting go, and that he understood that he was not to blame. And assuring Justin that they would get through this.

The stained white silk lay on the floor, forgotten. The hurt and pain and fear were still there, but like the stains of blood on the pearly cloth, they were slowly fading. Though Brian knew in his heart that he would never be able to throw the scarf away, it had fluttered to the ground, released.