Disclaimer: Don't own them! Chapter 5 – Seasick 'And that’s the end and that’s the start of it, that’s the whole and that’s the part of it.' Justin “You know what happened. Tell me,” Michael urged. “Michael, for the last time, I don’t know!” Justin exclaimed, putting down a stack of plates on top of the counter. “Now, I need to do my job, so will you please stop asking?” Justin tried to move, but Michael blocked his way. “Justin, you know Brian won’t tell me. He thinks I can’t handle when bad shit happens to him. But, I need to know.” Michael lowered his voice, looked at Justin with earnest eyes. “Please, tell me. I mean, I didn’t see him for a week and a half, and then he didn’t call for ages, and suddenly everything’s ok? It’s not. I know it’s not. Please, tell me what happened. I heard him take a call from a doctor yesterday!” Justin sighed. He hated Michael’s puppy dog eyes, because they just made him feel so guilty. He knew if Brian found out, he’d kill him, but Michael had a right to know; even if he was a bit annoying at times, he loved Brian and he worried about him. “Brian collapsed last Friday,” Justin began. Michael gasped. “I found him passed out in his room, because of exhaustion. I called an ambulance, and he was in the hospital for a day. He’s totally fine now, he just has to take better care of himself,” Justin assured Michael. “Fuck! That asshole!” Michael shook his head. “He was probably exhausted because he was working nights at Babylon, right? Why was he working there in the first place?” “Well… Brian took the job in Babylon because he wanted to help out with Vic’s hospital bills,” Justin answered after a moment’s hesitance. Michael said nothing, apparently in shock. He opened his mouth, but closed it, and turned to leave. Just before opening the door of the dinner, he turned back and said, “Justin, thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Fuck. If Brian found out, Justin was going to be in deep shit trouble. But fuck him, he should know there are people who care about him, who worry, and who deserve to be informed when things happen. + Justin walked quickly to his Sculpture class. Truth be told, he was sort of avoiding Ethan. He had no idea how to act around him after their date. Maybe Ethan was expecting kisses and shit like that, and Justin wasn’t really ready for public displays of affection yet. “Jus! Hey, Jus!” Fuck. “Oh, hi Ethan!” Justin called back, not slowing down. “How are you?” Ethan ran a bit to catch up with him. “I’m good, thanks, you?” “Good.” Ethan looked at him for a moment, and said, “Listen, Jus, you don’t have to feel awkward about our date. I had a great time, but I know you’re new at this whole thing. So, we’ll take it slow, you call the shots. Ok?” Justin smiled, relieved. “Ok. Thanks, Ethan.” In Sculpture class, Justin told himself that Ethan was being really fucking understanding about the whole dating thing, and that his patience probably deserved a second date. He ignored the part of his brain that told him Ethan had been just a bit condescending, and he was so busy arguing with himself, he didn’t notice the figure he was slowly forming with clay. It was the figure he always drew, painted, and sculpted; it was Brian. + 'That’s the hide and that’s the heart of it, that’s the long and that’s the short of it.' Michael “Are you sure you want to quit, Mr. Novotny?” Principal Thomas asked. Michael bit his lip. He had to do this. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure.” “Very well. I’m sorry, then. I wish you luck in whatever you do,” the principal said, extending his hand. “Thank you very much, sir,” Michael replied, shaking his hand. Michael stepped out of Allegheny Community College, and paused outside the door. He looked back, taking in the building where he’d once thought he’d study a career, become someone, get a great job. But as his mom liked to say, life had a way of fucking around with your plans. With a sigh, Michael went down the steps and headed to the Big Q on Butler Street. After dropping off his job application and having a small interview with the assistant manager, Michael headed to the Liberty Diner. He peered inside, and since he didn’t see his mom, he went in. He really didn’t feel like dealing with Debbie’s questions right now. “Honey!” Shit. Debbie had just come out of the bathroom. “Come give your mother a kiss!” Michael hugged her, and Debbie patted his cheek affectionately. “What are you doing here at this hour? I thought you had class.” Michael cringed. “Um… yeah… I quit school.” “You what?!” Debbie dropped one of the plates she was holding, which resulted in a man who was sitting nearby being splattered with spaghetti sauce, and complaining. Debbie turned to him, “Shut the hell up, will you? It’s sauce, it washes out. Jeez.” She rolled her eyes, and returned her complete attention to Michael. “So, what do you mean you quit school?” “I did,” Michael shrugged. “You and I both know I’m no good at school stuff, Ma. It’s just the way it is. I was nowhere near graduating, and it’s time I moved out of your house, started making money…” “Move out? You’re moving out?!” Debbie sat down heavily on one of the booths. Eventually, she asked “How are you gonna pay the rent on an apartment?” “I just got a job at the Big Q over on Butler,” Michael explained. “I’ll be starting with a small salary, but if I work hard I can get a promotion pretty soon.” He sat down next to his mother and took her hand. “Listen, Ma, it’s time for me to do this. It’s my choice, ok?” “Ok, darling,” Debbie nodded, blinking the tears away. The moment Michael was gone, Debbie went to the phone. “Brian? Michael just quit school.” + Michael was deeply absorbed in an issue of Captain Astro when Brian found him. He should’ve known Debbie would tell Brian, and that of all people, Brian would know to find him in the comic book store. “Mikey, what the fuck?” where the first words out of his mouth. “Your mom just called me to say you quit school.” “I did,” Michael admitted, putting down the comic book. “Why?” Michael sighed. “I have to start making money, Brian. I can’t live off of my mother anymore, going to school and pretending I’m any good at it,” Brian opened his mouth to protest, but Michael went on. “Don’t, Brian. I passed high school thanks to you, and that’s the truth. I got a job at the Big Q, and I’m gonna move out of my mom’s, get a place of my own.” “Listen to me, Mikey. Are you listening?” Brian leaned close. “I’m listening.” “Don’t ever, ever, dare to say you’re stupid, or not good enough. Now, this is your choice to make, and I respect that. But why quit school? Why not work and study?” “Because I can’t afford to work part time, Brian!” Michael exclaimed. “I mean, shit, you almost died ‘cause you were trying to help my mom out with the bills, and that shouldn’t have been your job in the first place!” The moment he finished speaking, Michael knew he’d fucked up. He didn’t even need to see Brian’s face, the silence was telling enough. “How do you know I collapsed?” Brian asked quietly. “I – uh, I forced Justin to tell me,” Michael shrugged, biting his lip. “Justin,” Brian repeated, his jaw tense. “He didn’t want to, but I just knew something was wrong. And you refused to tell me, Brian… I was worried. Don’t take it out on him, ok?” “What I take or don’t take out on Justin is my business.” Brian seemed to pull himself back into the moment, and he examined Michael for a moment before speaking. “Listen, Mikey, you know that I’m happy to help Deb and Vic out. I didn’t do it ‘cause I had to. I did it ‘cause I wanted to. And if you need me to-” “I know,” Michael interrupted him. “But she’s my mom, Brian. It’s my job. I have to do this.” Brian nodded. “Alright. Well, then, how about I buy you a drink at Woody’s, to celebrate your induction into the working world?” Michael grinned, and they left the store to go to Woody’s. They sat down by the bar and Brian ordered the drinks. He handed Michael one of the beers and clinked it with his own. “To the real world,” he toasted. “Oh, how it fucking sucks.” “I’ll drink to that,” Michael said. After two more beers, Brian said he had to go take care of something, but Michael decided to stay. He thought about his choices, his future. Things were so muddled, so fucked up. When he’d graduated from high school, he’d figured it was as easy as going to college, getting a job, and, bam!, your life started. A wonderful life. Somehow, no teacher and counselor had ever thought to mention how scary it actually was, going out into the world; how fucking complicated. “Well, you look like somebody ran over your pet goldfish, honey. What’s wrong?” a voice said, with the faintest hint of a Southern accent. Michael looked up to see a tall, thin guy dressed in a sheer, hot pink shirt and tangerine leather pants. He stared at him for a moment before remembering his manners and answering, “Um… I had a bad day.” “Well, tell me all about it,” the stranger sat down on the booth next to Michael. “Oh! But where are my manners! I’m Emmett Honeycutt.” “Michael Novotny,” he replied, shaking his hand. “So, why did you have such a bad day, sweetie?” Emmett asked. Something made Michael feel like he could trust this man. “Well, I quit college. I had to start working to help my mom out with the bills, and I have to move out of her house… so I need to find an apartment, which I doubt I’ll be able to afford.” “Aw, I’m sorry. But it could be worse,” he pointed out. “Really?” Michael huffed. “How?” “Your apartment building might have been burned down by the hooker that lived down the hall,” Emmett said. “What?! You’re just saying that to make me feel better. As if that would happen.” “Oh, trust me. It can certainly happen,” Emmett said, giving him a small smile. “You mean-” Michael pointed at Emmett, eyes wide. “Honey, why would I be wearing my fabulous club outfit at this hour if most of my worldly possessions weren't gone?” Emmett asked in dramatic a whisper. Michael had no idea. “Well, since your day seems to have sucked as much as mine, do you want to get shit-faced?” “Sure,” Emmett agreed, and asked the bartender for a Cosmo. + Brian 'If I could leave here today, then I would. If I could change my face and my name, then I would. If I could run to some Technicolor place, then I would. If I could learn from my mistakes, then I would.' Brian paced the length of the living room back and forth, waiting for Justin. He’d had enough beers and shots of whiskey that he was concentrating on walking straight, but his anger kept him from being totally drunk. How dare Justin? How dare he tell Michael? Finally, Brian heard the sound of the lock turning, the door opening. He watched Justin come in, take off his jacket and hang it by the door, dropping his goddam bag on the floor and, Brian was sure, scattering his shit all over. “Brian!” Justin exclaimed when he noticed him. He clutched his chest. “Fuck, you scared me! Why are you standing around in the dark?” Brian said nothing, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. Justin turned on the lights and approached Brian, looking at him almost cautiously. “Brian? Are you okay?” “No, Justin. I’m not okay,” Brian answered at last. He turned his back on Justin and took a deep drag from his cigarette. “Um… does this have to do with me telling Michael about you collapsing?” Justin asked quietly. Brian rolled his eyes, but didn’t turn around. “Because I know I shouldn’t have, but he just kept asking… and he had a right to know,” Justin said. Brian whirled around, his face furious. “The fuck he did! I told you not to tell anybody, Justin. Especially him!” Brian shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. “You know what he did, after you made your fucking confession? He quit school!” Justin’s eyes widened. “Shit.” “Yeah, shit doesn’t even begin to cover it. He quit school because you didn’t just tell him I collapsed, you had to mention I was trying to help Deb out,” Brian was pacing again, his entire body tense. Justin watched him, saying nothing. “So of course, Michael felt bad and decided quitting school and getting a job at the Big fucking Q was the right thing to do.” “I really am sorry, Brian. But that was Michael’s decision, and his choice is not my fault,” Justin said, shrugging. “Yes it fucking is! He wouldn’t have quit if he hadn’t found out what happened!” Brian leaned close to Justin, pointing a finger to his chest. “But of course, little Sunshine doesn’t give a damn about the consequences of his actions, does he? No, he’s far too busy dating left, right and center, going to romantic concerts with that fiddle fuck to care about anybody else,” Brian spat out, voice mocking and vitriolic. “Oh, fuck you, Brian. Fuck you,” Justin said quietly. “It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking worried about being seen as anything less than invincible that you couldn’t even tell your best friend of nine years that you were stubborn and stupid enough to exhaust yourself into unconsciousness.” Justin gave him a bitter smile. “Oh, but of course Brian Fucking Kinney couldn’t. Why, he’s not a mortal like the rest of us. He doesn’t hurt, he doesn’t get tired, he doesn’t get sick, he doesn’t date… he doesn’t love.” Brian didn’t reply. He simply stared at Justin, his cigarette forgotten and turning to ash in his hand. “What, no witty comeback?” Justin asked. “Just as well. I had a very long day, and I want to go to sleep.” With that, he walked to his room and closed the door. Brian heard the lock being set. Justin had never locked his door, not in two years of living together. “Fuck,” Brian whispered. He didn’t know why he’d gone off like that. He was pissed at Justin for telling Michael, yes. But he’d figured that Michael would find out eventually, he’d already imagined the possibility. Michael could wear down a rock, and Justin wasn’t as patient as one… fuck, if Brian had been in the same situation, he knew he wouldn’t have made it for more than a minute of Michael’s pleading eyes and demanding questions. So why the fuck had he yelled at Justin like that? Brian headed to the window, stared out at the darkened street. It hadn’t been this thing about Michael, not really. Brian had been pissed off before that, ever since… the date. The date that didn’t suck, the date with fucking Ian. Shit. And Brian had brought it up, had acted like a jealous fucking lesbian. Justin hadn’t taken any of his shit, though. He never did. He was probably the only person in the world who could humble Brian, because while Brian put up a good front, while he acted like he was always sure and in control, he was scared shitless so much of the time. Justin, well, Justin admitted when he was scared; he accepted the fear, and thus conquered it. Justin was so much more comfortable in his skin, so fully himself. If only… “Enough,” Brian told himself quietly. There was no use in going down that road, no use in remembering that first night, or thinking of ‘if only-s’. The past was in the past, and Brian was no good for a present, let alone a future. 'You make it look so easy. You make me seasick.' TBC A/N: Title from song by Something for Kate. Songs quoted are Twenty Years by Placebo and Seasick by Something for Kate. Thanks SOOOO much for your reviews!