A Weird, Forty-Nine Day Period by Suz Disclaimer - Showtime/CowLip own them, I don't, etc etc. Totally self-indulgent. Totally implausible. But hey, why not read it anyway? ;D Brian/Justin, future fic set post-513. Humour, silliness, rated R for language. Many thanks to my nel :) Feedback would be great! * There's a weird, forty-nine day period during their fifteenth year together (well, for Justin it's the fifteenth. Brian would still argue it's the eleventh). There's a weird, forty-nine day period during their fifteenth year together where Brian gets all...clingy. And needy. It's weirder - and more worrying - than the post-bombing, panic-induced marriage proposal, although it admittedly doesn't come close to Brian's cancer scare three years previously. After one day of weirdness, Justin decides he'll let it slide. It's clearly just a blip - even Brian Kinney is human, after all. Besides, being under all that intense focus from Brian outside of sex isn't all *that* unpleasant. Halfway through the second day of weirdness, Justin demands to know what the fuck is going on. Brian claims ignorance, that he's doing nothing out of the ordinary. Disturbingly, he genuinely seems to believe it. So Justin investigates. He knows for a fact that Brian's last check up two months ago came out clean. He knows for a fact there's been no STD scares, because they only trick together, now, and if Brian had heard anything about one of their tricks he would've told Justin about it ASAP (he asks Brian about it, anyway, and gets an eye roll and an arm slap for his trouble. It's somewhat comforting). He investigates Brian's body even more thoroughly than usual and it's exactly as it should be - wearing a little with age, but still beautiful despite it. No unusual lumps or bumps, and one-bad impression of Brian on the phone later, he knows there's been no recent doctor's appointments whatsoever. Things are still fucking weird the next day, too, with Brian asking in great detail exactly when and where Justin's going to be that day, and just as Justin is plotting ways to get Brian to 'accidentally' get a CAT or PET scan done, Michael calls. "Hey," Justin greets distractedly. "What the fuck did you do to Brian?" He's a little affronted, but mostly relieved. For privacy they meet someplace that isn't the diner (and vow to never, ever mention it to Deb) and exchange mutual Brian horror stories over a large plate of fries and two chocolate milkshakes. Justin pretends not to notice the anti-acid pill Michael pops right afterward. It seems that while Brian isn't being clingy towards Michael, he is being...well...nice. "What do you think it is?" Michael asks eventually, sounding completely freaked out. His worldview has always completely shifted when Brian does something different. Justin elects not to mention that. "I don't know," he sighs, playing with his straw. "The last time he got really weird was-" "-after the bombing," Michael nods. "Right. But there's been nothing like that at all. Not even close." "What about..." Michael hesitates, glancing at him. Justin knows exactly where this is going. "It's not the cancer," he shakes his head, believing it completely. "It's just been a perfectly normal, good, un-scary life for the last few years." Michael stares at him. "Maybe that's it." The theory isn't bad, but not fitting for Brian. "That's not how Brian fucks up when he freaks out that things are going well. Come on, Michael - you know how he works. He becomes even harder to live with, not easier." "I know, I know," he huffs, sitting back on his seat. "Maybe he'll...just get over it?" The next morning, Brian wakes Justin up with breakfast in bed - and it isn't a roll he's grabbed from the coffee shop around the corner and lobbed at Justin's sleepy head. It's over-cooked bacon and under-cooked eggs, served with orange juice and a vase holding a single red rose. Perching on the edge of the bed, Brian bites his lower lip and hesitantly holds the tray out. Justin freezes for a good ten seconds before pinching himself. Fifteen minutes later (he didn't see any reason to let the bacon go to waste) he starts calling psychiatrists. When Brian realises what he's doing, he doesn't even ask why. "I know someone," he offers instead, quietly. "He helped me help you after the bashing." Justin hadn't thought there was anything that could shock him even more than the rose, but that did it. * There's no pretence - before they leave, Justin tells Brian flat-out that he's worried about him and he thinks a psychiatrist might be able to help. It's his first step, anyway. There's a part of him that's seriously considering the CAT scan. Brian insists there's nothing wrong with him, but holds Justin's hand and says that if this is what they need to do, they'll do it. Justin asks if Brian's friend can see them within the hour. * Alex seems a nice enough guy who lives in a nice enough place, but Justin doesn't give a shit about any of that. He clearly has a long knowledge and history of Brian and wastes no time getting down to business after Justin explains why they're there. After a few initial questions, he asks to speak to Brian privately. Justin sits on Alex's porch for what feels like forever, before the front door finally creaks open and Alex peers outside, smiling. "We're ready for you." He expects more questions, but that isn't it at all. When he's situated once again on the sofa, next to Brian - who smiles at him gently - Alex speaks. "Brian's given me permission to share with you some of what I discussed with him, as well as my own opinion." "Okay..." Justin begins uncertainly, glancing over at Brian, who places his hand on Justin's thigh reassuringly. Justin shivers. "First, I should make it clear these are only my initial impressions made after a single session. Normally I wouldn't volunteer anything this quickly, but given the circumstances..." he smirks towards Brian. "Anyway, you should most definitely get a second, more-thorough opinion, and my own thoughts at this point are exactly that - my own thoughts, and in no way an official diagnosis." "Look," Justin interrupts quickly, "your ass is covered and I promise we're not going to sue you. What the fuck is going on with Brian?" Alex looks from Justin to Brian, before focusing back on Justin again. "Based on what I've seen and heard during this initial session, I believe Brian is suffering from a mid-life crisis." Oh. Slouching back against the sofa, Justin quietly absorbs the information and its implications. Most people going through a mid-life crisis completely change their wardrobe, or buy a ridiculously expensive car, or fuck around, or dye their hair... ...oh. Mid-life crises don't go on forever though, right? Which means Brian will go back to normal, right? Eventually, he turns his head to face Brian. "You literally can't do *anything* the same way as everyone else, can you?" And wow, he's going to be pissed when he's back to his usual, crabby self, that anyone even implied that he was anywhere near to 'mid-life'. Justin made a mental note to mention it as often as possible. "He won't be like this for long, right?" Justin asks, turning back to Alex. It's still disturbing how quiet, accepting and compliant Brian is. "It varies from case to case," Alex shrugs. "Therapy would help it pass faster, though, as well as working out the issues that brought the crisis on in the first place - usually fear of old age, or dying." Hmm. Brian could work it out on his own - with Justin's help, of course - and for a while longer he'd be nice, and sweet, cooking terrible breakfasts, looking at Justin like he was the last man on Earth (although, frankly, he usually did that during sex anyway), calling Justin every hour on the hour to ask him how he was and what he was doing... Therapy. Definitely. * It only takes a few weeks for Brian to get less strange, and within a couple of months he's almost completely back to normal. Justin knows it's true when a muffin to the head wakes him up on a Sunday morning. He grumbles and complains as Brian grumbles and complains about being 'tricked' into seeing a shrink, then logs onto his computer with the clear intent of ignoring Justin for the rest of the day. Fumbling around for the muffin, Justin tells him to shut the fuck up, then smiles as he brings the muffin closer to his face. Blueberry. His favourite. ~FINIS
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