Michael slid down in his seat in English class. It was only October, and he already felt like an outcast. Again.

English was okay - at least they got to read books, and Michael loved to read. They didn't have to partner with other kids in the class, rarely had to get in to groups for discussion, and the teacher didn't pick on him. Yet. Of course, it was only October.

Michael had started the year full of hopes. Grade nine had to be better than grade eight. He was 14 now, getting taller (though not tall enough), and his mom pressured him a little less.

Michael was confident that this year he'd meet some friends. He'd get to know other kids. He'd find someone who didn't care that he didn't have a dad. That Michael and his mom lived in a small, run down house in the poor part of town. That Michael's uncle was known by many of their parents as an outspoken homosexual - marching in parades, leading discussions, and making sure everyone knew that he was gay, and proud of it.

Last year had been awful. The few friends he had from elementary school all either moved away or ended up at a different high school. He and Joey had started out the year together, but soon drifted apart as Michael became quickly labeled as an outcast. Joey never even said hi to him in the halls anymore, never mind actually asked him to hang out.

And to make matters worse, when all the other kids were going on vacations together with their families, or being sent off for two weeks to summer camp where they could deepen friendships, Michael had to work. His mom couldn't afford to keep their house on what she made at the diner, so Michael helped out washing dishes and cleaning up. He only made minimum wage, but it helped, and he knew he had to do it. His mom couldn't do it without him, despite what she said. And Vic contributed too, but he lived the high life. He had a fancy apartment in the city, danced and drank and ate at expensive restaurants, and why shouldn't he? He was a good looking man, he worked hard, and he deserved to enjoy what he earned. He always made sure Michael had shoes that fit, new jeans for the first day of school, and a warm coat for winter.

But still - their relationship was a bit strained, and Michael didn't feel like he wanted to take too much from Vic. Although Michael loved his uncle Vic dearly - he was as close to a dad as Michael had ever got - he sometimes felt... well... embarrassed when people found out Vic was related to Michael. He had recently taken to refusing Vic's offers to take him to the new movie or the arcade, for fear of someone seeing them there together. And thinking that Michael was like his uncle Vic.

The last thing Michael wanted anyone to think was that he was gay. Because it wasn't true. It SO wasn't true. The words repeated themselves over and over in Michael's head as their English teacher instructed them to read the next four chapters of Lord of the Flies. It just wasn't.

Michael tried to concentrate on the book, tried to immerse himself in the story of the boys stranded on an island... no parents... no rules... Michael sometimes wished he could be there with them.

"Excuse me class, we have a new student that'll be joining us for the rest of the year," Mrs. Wilson interrupted the quiet in the room as the students read.

Michael kept his head buried in his book. Great. One more person to ridicule me, he thought.

"Brian just transferred from Southmont. Please make him feel welcome here," she continued.

Michael raised his eyes from his book a moment to get a look at this new kid.

Oh... God... Michael felt a flush burn his cheeks suddenly as he stared at Brian and his breath caught in his throat.

Brian looked around the class at the faces, a bored look peeling across his heavy lidded hazel eyes. His gaze tripped over Michael, but didn't stop. Brian took in the looks, and caught one girl staring at him, her mouth open. Brian was used to this reaction. He knew he was a good looking kid, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get high school over and done with. And screw his Dad for making him change schools in the middle of the year. He would prove that he could succeed where ever he went, and still fuck around as much as he wanted.

He pushed past the teacher and slid into an empty desk near the back of the room, tossing his knapsack on the floor, and pulling his jean jacket around him.

Michael had held his breath as Brian walked by him, resisting the urge to turn and watch as he sat down at the back of the class. Michael didn't understand why he was feeling the way he was. Didn't understand the rush of blood to his cheeks - the funny sensation in his stomach. Maybe I'm getting the flu? He asked himself. He just felt weird, and it all started when he looked at Brian.

The remaining 45 minutes of class dragged by. Michael couldn't focus on his book anymore, and hoped the teacher wouldn't ask him a question. All he could think about was this new kid... Brian. He ached to turn around to catch a glimpse of him. To get one more look. And yet, Michael didn't know why. He just knew he wanted to.

Finally the class was over, and Michael busied himself with his knapsack, waiting for Brian to leave ahead of him. Finally Brian brushed past him, his dark gray knapsack hanging off one shoulder. Michael quickly stood and followed Brian out. He walked behind the new boy, noticing how his jean jacket was a little too big for him, and his jeans a bit baggy in the back. His Doc Martens were scruffy and worn. Michael focused on the back of Brian's head, conscious of keeping his distance so it didn't seem too obvious that he was looking... no, staring at him.

Brian didn't stop for anyone, and Michael had almost forgotten where his next class was, when suddenly Dan stepped right in front of Michael, blocking Brian instantly from his view.

Oh shit... thought Michael too late as he slammed into the broad chest of the football player.

"Well look who's here... little queenie," Dan laughed out loud to his pals, who watched as the tall boy grabbed Michael by the front of the shirt. "Tell your mom to be more generous the next time she serves me at the diner, queer."

Michael held his breath, remembering that his mom told him not to honor any of their taunts with a comeback. Keep quiet Michael, he told himself over and over in his head.

"So... what have you got to say for yourself?" Dan urged Michael to say something, but Michael wouldn't oblige. If he couldn't have any friends in high school, he'd at least try to keep his self-respect. Dan pulled Michael to his toes, yanking on his shirt. Suddenly the older boy pushed Michael to the floor, and his knapsack went skidding across the linoleum into the feet of the other students that watched the spectacle. Michael landed on his ass on the cold floor, pain shooting up his tailbone.

"Go fuck yourself, queer," Dan sneered at him, kicking Michael's knapsack down the hall and out of his reach. "Go home to your fag uncle and your fag mother. No wonder your dad left. Your mom's a fucking lesbo!"

Michael sat on the floor a moment before climbing to his feet. He was so angry, but he just gritted his teeth and let out a big sigh. He knew he couldn't fight Dan - he was simply too small and had no friends to back him. But one day, one day Michael would show that asshole who was boss. And prove to him that Dan didn't know what he was talking about.

Standing up and wiping off his pants, Michael headed to find his knapsack on the floor. Glancing across the rows of lockers, Michael's eyes passed across Brian's. He'd seen the whole thing, and now stood there, taunting Michael with his hazel eyes and intense stare. He just looked at him. Michael's jaw dropped a bit, and his heart stopped. He suddenly felt so sick, he thought he was going to puke right there in the hall. Fuck... he thought, Brian will never want to be my friend, now that he knows I'm the class loser.

Michael dropped his head and swallowed hard, pushing past the other kids to pick up his knapsack. All he could think about was not looking at Brian ever again, and not puking. He didn't think he could do either one.

He made it into biology late, and sat through the whole class, holding his stomach. He must be getting something. His stomach flip-flopped, and especially when he thought about... don't think about him, he yelled at himself in his head.

Michael sat through lunch alone at the back of the cafeteria. His sandwich had been crushed when Dan kicked his bag across the hall, and all that was left was a miserable apple. Michael chewed on it slowly, trying to make it last all lunch hour. His gaze kept flicking to the door every time it opened, and he knew why... he knew who he was looking for...

He'd finished his apple, and realized he still had 20 minutes left for lunch. He snuck outside, and making sure no one was watching him, he scurried into the woods behind the school. Michael had found a secret spot there that no one else ever went to. A piece of an old water tunnel, round and made of concrete, sat there. About 8 feet long and 5 feet high, Michael found it was the perfect place to sit and be alone. Open on either end, the tunnel offered protection from the rain, and a place away from glaring eyes.

Michael sat on the cold concrete, and leaned against the cool curved wall of the tunnel. Pulling his knapsack in front of him, he carefully took out a small stack of comic books. They got a little bent when Dan kicked his bag, but Michael had made sure each of his comics was protected with a cardboard backing and plastic bag. He knew he was pretty careful that way, but lately his comics were his best friends, and he treated them as such.

He delved into the world of Captain Astro, absorbing each word, although he'd read them all a thousand times before. He didn't want to think about anything else except for the adventures of his favorite superhero. And he didn't. The 20 minutes slipped by before he knew it, and when he heard the bell ring to start class he quickly tucked his comic away and ran back.

Shit... he'd forgotten he had gym next. He hated gym more than anything else at school. Having to change in front of everyone. Having to wear his worn out sneakers, ones his mom picked up at the Salvation Army, when everyone else had Reeboks and Nikes. Having to endure running around the track over and over again.

He found a quiet corner of the locker room and changed before anyone could notice his arrival. Michael headed out to the gym floor ready to suffer whatever the gym teacher was about to dole out.

He stood at the back, staring at his shoes, listening to the jock talk and watching the girls crowd together at the other end of the gym, laughing and gossiping amongst themselves. Michael always imagined they were talking about him. Talking about how skinny he was, how short he was, how much he didn't fit in with the rest. Michael knew none of them would ever go out with him, not that he wanted to ask one... he just hadn't seen the girl he liked yet... but he knew he would. He knew he'd find someone to ask out. He would. He would. He would.

"Okay class, start your laps," Coach bellowed.

Michael joined the others as they began their laps around the class gym. He tried to go slow so he wouldn't have to do as much, but that never worked.

Then he saw him, jogging out of the change room to join the class running around the gym. Brian.

Taking to the wooden floors, Brian took the lead, running faster than anyone else. Michael watched his long legs striding in an easy pace, but still overtaking the jocks that suddenly quickened their stride to keep up with this new boy. Brian was obviously a natural runner, his lean form built for speed.

All eyes were on Brian, as he sped around the gym, ignoring the unspoken rule of passing Dan and his jock friends. Unaware of the admiring looks of the girls, Brian continued his pace, a look of contentment and satisfaction clear on his face. He was enjoying this.

Michael braced himself as he knew Brian was coming up behind him, ready to overtake him. Why did he feel like this? Why did this Brian make Michael feel so funny? His thoughts left him as he watched Brian take another turn in front of the class, and he smiled. Wow... this kid would be someone to know, he thought. Doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything, by the looks of it.

"Okay everyone, enough," Coach hollered after the class had run for 15 minutes. "Get out the basketballs and practice shooting hoops."

The kids started lining up to toss basketballs into the net. Michael watched as the coach came up to Brian, and lightly took his arm, pulling him aside. The two had a brief conversation, smiling and laughing. Michael's concentration was on Brian, and not where he was walking, so he didn't notice as Dan stuck his foot out in his path.

Michael tripped over his foot and fell face first to the floor, his chin banging the ground sharply, and his knee sliding across the shiny flooring. Oh God... twice in one day. Tears threatened at his eyes, and Michael begged himself not to cry. At the noise, both the coach and Brian looked to see what had happened, and Michael knew that once again, those hazel eyes would be judging him. Watching him, and seeing what a loser he was.

"What's going on, Novotny?" Coach bellowed, as the class stared Michael, splayed out on the floor.

"N-Nothing Coach," Michael pulled himself to his feet, the skin on his knee pushed away and the raw flesh starting to bleed. "I just tripped."

He heard Dan snort behind him. Michael knew he was being laughed at - not only because he was such a wimp and let himself be picked on in the first place, but also because he lied to protect those that were tormenting him. He couldn't win.

"Can I be excused? I think I need a Band-Aid," He limped towards the change room, his chin aching and his knee starting to bleed now too. At this, Dan burst into laughing, and the rest of his crew followed suit, sniggering and snorting at Michael.

"Cut it out!" Coach bellowed at the jocks, and Michael heard them stop as he walked into the change room.

I can't do this anymore... Michael thought. I can't live like this... He stood in from of the sink, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. He just stood there for a moment. Not wanting to cry so badly. Not wanting any of this to affect him anymore. He was a nice guy... why couldn't anyone see that?

Michael wiped up the blood from his knee with some paper towels, and quickly opened his locker and changed into his regular clothes.

Fuck it! I'm not dealing with this today, he decided, and slipped out the back door of the change room and headed for his secret place in the woods.

It was quiet, and Michael felt a little guilty for skipping school. He'd never done it before, and knew he shouldn't because he needed all the help he could get with school, but he didn't care today. Didn't care anymore. The cool concrete pressing against his back was all the comfort he needed right now.

Finally feeling a little secure, he let the tears fall from his eyes. Why, why, why... the questions kept rolling around in his head, and a sob escaped his lips. It just wasn't fair.

The bell rang for the next class to begin, and Michael held his breath, feeling like he needed to be extra quiet in case someone found him. Which they wouldn't. As if they'd even look for him.

He took a deep breath, and wiped the tears from his face, more threatening to fall. And then there was Brian. God... why did he keep coming into Michael's thoughts? Maybe the taunts were true. Maybe he was-

Michael's train of thought was interrupted as he heard the soft crunching noise of someone crushing leaves beneath their feet as they approached. Someone was coming. Michael pushed himself closer to the center of the tunnel, but as it was open from both ends, there wasn't much room to hide. He sucked in his breath and waited to hear if the steps came any nearer.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice echoed in the small chamber.

Michael stayed quiet, hoping the person would go away.

"Are you okay?" Any thought that Michael might have had that he would left alone shattered as the person stepped into view. Oh shit... he thought. It was him. The new kid. Brian.

Brian bent his tall frame into the small tunnel. "Are you alright?," he asked again, genuine concern crossing his brow.

"Yeah..." Michael kept his head down, trying to hide his tear stained eyes. "I'm fine. Listen, you better not let Dan and those guys see you with me - you'll never make any friends here." Michael warned Brian, as he pushed himself farther away from where Brian stood at the entrance to the tunnel.

"Those aren't the people I would want to be friends with," Brian said, pulling himself into the tunnel and plopping himself down on the cool cement across from Michael. "And I couldn't give a shit if they see me."

Brian pulled a package of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, and offered on to Michael, who shook his head 'no'.

He watched as Brian carefully lit the cigarette, sucking back the smoke into his lungs, savoring the sensation.

"Aren't you a little young to smoke?" Michael asked, trying not to sound like a wuss, but not doing a very good job of it.

"Aren't you a little old to be reading comic books?" Brian retorted, motioning to the plastic-wrapped comic peeking out of the top of Michael's bag.

Instantly, Michael's face flushed with embarrassment, but a big grin spread across Brian's face.

"I'm Brian," he smiled at Michael, stretching his long legs out to rest beside Michael.

"I know," Michael said miserably, so uncomfortable by the closeness of this new boy, but so unsure why.

"I know you know... but I was trying to get you to tell me your name!" Brian laughed, shaking his head at Michael as he flicked his cigarette away.

"Oh... Michael," he replied. No wonder he didn't have friends. "I'm sorry - I'm not a dork... I'm just not used to people coming up and talking to me... I guess-"

"Whatever," Brian brushed away the apology, and slid over beside Michael, reaching in his bag to pull out the comic. "I was just shitting you about the comic. Comics are cool," Brian slid the book out of the plastic, holding it carefully, one eye on Michael to make sure he wasn't going to freak out.

"Really?" Michael's face lit up, and he leaned over Brian's shoulder to see what page he'd flipped to. "Oh, this one is really good. Captain Astro like goes all evil and... shit... and it's cool," Michael finished, his embarrassment from before almost vanished as he discussed his favorite topic - comics.

"You're really into them, hunh?" Brian asked, looking at Michael.

Michael couldn't tear his eyes away from Brian's gaze. "Um, yeah. I... well, I don't really have a lot of friends at school, so... well, sometimes the comics make up for, I guess." He thought he would fall into Brian's eyes, his stare was so intense, his hazel eyes taking in everything about Michael.

"Hmph," Brian returned his eyes to the comic, reading quietly as Michael read over his shoulder.

"Why are you here?" Michael suddenly asked Brian, curiosity about this new boy overwhelming him.

"Because I hate Math, and I decided to skip it," Brian replied, not taking his eyes off the comic.

"No... I mean why did you have to change schools?" Michael pressed again.

"Why else?" Brian looked at him. "My dad."

"Oh." Michael said quietly.

Brian sensed Michael wouldn't be satisfied with that answer. "He got a new job, and he decided to rip his family out of their happy home across town and bring them here," Brian finished. "We used to live in an apartment, but with this new job, he could afford a house. So he bought a shitty house in this neighbourhood, and he told me I had to change schools," Brian looked at Michael to see if the answer was enough for him.

"Oh," Michael repeated, a bit taken aback at the sudden outburst. "I don't have a dad... so, I don't know about stuff like that," Michael said.

"Having a dad or not has nothing to do with it. Having a shit for a dad does," Brian said, his voice harsh. "Whatever," he shrugged suddenly. "I guess I'm here now, so fuck it." He turned back to the comic, and Michael kept his mouth shut reading over Brian's shoulder as he flipped through the comic.

Soon the boys heard the chime of the end of day bell, and Michael started to pack up his bag, pulling the comic from Brian's fingers.

"Sorry Brian, but I have to go to work now," Michael said. "My mom expects me at the diner exactly 25 minutes after she hears that bell."

Brian laughed, then saw how serious Michael's face was. "Really?"

"Really," Michael said, as he pushed himself out of the tunnel. Brian followed, stretching his arms over his head, his t-shirt lifting to reveal a small patch of white tummy to Michael. He quickly turned away, hoping Brian hadn't seen him look.

"Your mom must be a real hard ass," Brian said.

"No - she just loves me," Michael replied matter-of-factly, then started to push through the trees to reach the sidewalk.

Brian followed Michael and started to walk towards the diner with him, which was in the same direction as his home. When Brian proclaimed they'd reached his street, Michael was startled to discover they only lived a few blocks apart. Brian started to walk down the road to his house, then stopped and turned around.

"Hey, do you want to hang out again?" he asked Michael.

Michael wanted to yell 'are you kidding? Yes!' but kept his cool, and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure... as long as you don't care about what everyone else thinks..." Michael trailed off.

"I don't care," Brian said, smiling at him and turning to walk towards his house. "See you Mikey," he called over his shoulder. Michael felt a twinge of excitement in his stomach. Nobody had ever called him that before. Mikey. He kind of liked it.

Michael stood for a moment, watching Brian walk towards his home. He tried to tear his eyes away but couldn't. Just couldn't. Finally Brian started to turn up a driveway, and Michael realized that Brian could see him standing there, so he quickly picked up his pace and headed for the diner.

Hiking his knapsack on his back, Michael smiled to himself. 'Mikey', he thought. I like that.

The smile was still on his face when he reached the diner, which was packed full as usual with the after school crowd.

"Baby!" Deb hollered at from behind the counter. "You're on busboy duty today - Johnnie's sick!"

Even the thought of picking up people's dirty dishes couldn't wipe the silly grin from his face. He had a friend. A genuine, bona fide friend. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

He dumped his knapsack in the backroom and quickly grabbed one of the aprons that hung there, as well as one of the dish trays so he could start collecting the dishes. Deb caught a glimpse at the smile plastered across his face and quickly grabbed his arm before he could get away.

"What's the grin for, son?" she smiled herself, so happy to see her little boy with some joy in his face.

"Nothing, mom..." he started, then stopped. "Actually, there was this new kid that started school today... Brian Kinney... he's my friend." It sounded silly to say it, but it was the truth. He was Michael's friend. And he was by far the coolest guy in school. Michael was so looking forward to this year.

They worked through the after school rush right into the dinner rush, then even into the after dinner dessert and coffee crowd. Michael didn't mind. He'd be making enough tonight to even keep a few bucks to himself. Maybe he'd get a couple of comic books. Then again, he thought... maybe he'd stash it away and save up for a cool jean jacket like Brian's.

Finally when 8:00 rolled around, it was time to for Deb and Michael to call it a night. They hadn't spoken much with the rush, but Deb was so pleased to see Michael doing his work well, and with a grin on his face that couldn't be wiped off for anything.

They were just getting ready to head out the door when Vic popped his head in. "Heya, sis!" he cried when he saw them leaving. "I was just coming to get you two."

Vic held the door open for them as they walked out. He gave Debbie a big hug, then pulled Michael into his warm embrace. How badly Michael wished he could pretend this was a hug from his father, and not his uncle. But he was still on cloud nine, and so looking forward to going to school tomorrow to see his friend. To hang out with his friend. To eat lunch with his friend. He tried not to think about how pathetic he really was.

Vic threw his arms around Deb's shoulder, then Michael's. "Okay kids, I'm taking you out," he laughed, always in a good mood, always wanting to share his happiness with his family.

"Sure," Debbie laughed back. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. Just happy to be with my favorite sister and my favorite nephew," He squeezed Michael's shoulder. "How `bout it, Michael? Do you want to go out somewhere interesting for dinner tonight?"

"Sure, uncle Vic," he smiled, his usual apprehension brushed away with everyone's good mood. "Anywhere but the diner would be a welcome sight right now."

"Hmmm... where can I take my family," Vic pondered, as they wandered into the busy streets and close to Liberty Avenue, the gay district of Pittsburgh. "I know... there's a really great new Japanese restaurant that Stephen and Eric opened up. You know them Deb - Stephen does that amazing Madonna impression - he led the gay pride parade last year."

"Oh, right!" she laughed remembering Stephen's over the top costume that mimicked Madonna in her "Like a Virgin" phase. "The wedding dress - like a virgin my ass!" Deb and Vic burst into gales of laughter as they recounted the event. "Sounds great... Michael sweetie..." she leaned around Vic to look at her son, trying to read his face. She knew that since starting high school last year, Michael had started to act a bit differently around Vic and some of his gay friends. She suspected she knew why, but wasn't ready to confirm her suspicions yet. Until then, she let him call the shots and gauge his own comfort level over where they went.

"Yeah mom... Japanese would be awesome," Michael was in another world, long having tuned out his mom and uncle Vic and their reminiscing about his friends.

The three hit the restaurant and had an amazing dinner. Vic's friends Stephen and Eric sat with them, and they laughed all evening, as much at the jokes they told as at the innuendo they hinted at, in an effort to shield Michael from some of the cruder tales. He was only 14 after all. But Michael knew more than they could ever imagine. Michael was just curious about what he was going to look like when he got older... that's why he looked at Uncle Vic's magazines. That's the only reason why... he didn't want to think about that now. He just feigned innocence and smiled along with everyone as they burst into laughter.

Soon the clock turned to 11:30, and Deb realized that it was a school night. "Gosh! We'd better get this boy home," she announced, sipping back the remainder of her wine. "It's past the time he needs to get to bed."

"Come on, I'll get you a cab home," Vic pulled his long legs out of the small sitting area, stretching after sitting so long.

They said their good byes to their friends, and with promises to return soon, hit the cold outside air.

"Let's just walk a bit," Deb said. "It's a beautiful night, and I think I need a shot of cold air after that wine."

Vic and Deb held hands as they walked down the quieter side streets. With Liberty Avenue to their left, every once in a while they'd hear a hoot or loud blast of music as a car drove down the busy street.

Michael still smiled to himself, his stomach full of teriyaki chicken and rice. Who'd of imagined that a day that started so miserable could end up so good?

As they passed one of the alleyways, Deb let out a whoop of laughter at something Vic said, and a sudden movement down the lane caught his eye. Michael quickly turned his head and saw someone sitting in the alley, jean jacket pulled tight across their chest. At Deb's laugh, a face turned to look at them, and Michael suddenly stopped in his tracks. It was Brian.

"Hey... what are you doing here," Michael approached Brian smiling at first, pleasure at seeing the boy again coursing through him. But in moments, Michael realized something was wrong. Brian was hunched over, holding his stomach, and leaning against the corner of the brick building lining the alleyway. As Michael approached, Brian turned his face away from him, looking in the opposite direction.

"Go away," he whispered quietly, his voice cracking.

"What?" Michael stepped nearer to his friend to hear what he said.

Brian's face flashed towards Michael suddenly, tears streaming down his bruised cheeks. "I said go away!" he yelled loudly, trying to stand, but crying out as he did so.

"Michael, honey what's wrong?" Deb and Vic came to his side quickly as they heard the outburst.

As soon as Deb saw the battered boy, she gently pushed Michael aside and knelt in front of Brian.

"What happened to you, honey?" she said, putting her hand on the boy's forehead, not knowing who he was, or caring either.

"Leave me alone," he said harshly through tears, trying to cover his face with his hands, but every movement causing him more pain. Vic rushed in to grab him as he looked about to fall over. He caught him in his strong arms as Brian slipped into unconsciousness.

"Do you know this boy?" Deb asked of Michael.

"Yeah," Michael whispered, in shock. "That's Brian Kinney," he swallowed hard, feeling as though he'd just been punched in the stomach. "My friend."

Vic had hailed a cab, and the four of them piled in, Vic holding Brian in his arms. Brian drifted in and out of consciousness. He wrapped his arms around his chest, and let Vic cradle his head against his shoulder. Despite Brian's height, he was lean, and Vic was strong, able to easily support the boy's weight.

Michael sat in the front seat, so unsure of how to feel or what to say. He didn't know. He just didn't know.

He was terrified that Brian had been beaten up by Dan and his dick friends because they found out he was hanging out with Michael. He was so convinced of this, he made himself believe it was true, and it just made him feel miserable.

He had a friend. For a day.

Once at home, Vic carried Brian's limp body upstairs to Michael's room, putting him gently on the bed. Brian seemed to wake up, and tried to sit up, but bent over in pain, rolling on his side on the bed.

"Fuck..." he whispered, his eyes squeezed tight despite the angry dark bruises on his face. "I feel like I can't breathe."

"Let's get a look at you, kid," Vic took Brian's hands in his, and pulled them aside, so he could see what damage had been done to the boy's face. There was no blood, but a sickening rainbow of colors bloomed across his pale skin. Purples and blues and yellows... the bruises covered one of Brian's cheeks, slid up towards his eye, and rested on his bottom lip, making it swell. Hands... no, fists did this to the boy, Vic thought, shaking his head in disgust at the thought.

Brian opened his eyes and looked at Vic, momentarily taking the older man's breath away. This boy was beautiful... how could anyone...? Vic took a deep breath, trying to coax a wave of nausea to pass.

Tears streamed from Brian's hazel eyes... Vic suddenly realized it wasn't physical pain causing the sorrow... it was something more. Someone had hurt this boy in more ways than one.

Vic wanted to cradle him in his arms, draw the boy to him, and hold him tight. Tell him he was loved. Tell him he was so special... but he didn't feel it would be appropriate. Somehow didn't feel right. He felt tears threaten at his own eyes, and he swallowed a lump in his throat as he stared into Brian's telling eyes. He said so much, yet nothing at all.

Debbie came in quickly with a face cloth dampened with warm water, and lightly touched Brian's cheeks with it to wipe away the tears.

Michael just stood in the corner, horrified at the scene before him, sick rising in his throat as he gasped for breath, hiccupping in his panic, his fear, his pure sense of not understanding of what was happening before him, and what was happening inside of him.

Vic slowly lifted Brian's shirt to reveal a large purple bruise on his stomach. "Jesus Christ," Vic whispered under his breath. Brian looked like he'd been kicked repeatedly.

"Who did this to you?" Vic asked of the boy on the bed.

Fear jumped into Michael's stomach. This was his fault. All his fault. He didn't want to hear what Brian was going to say and he panicked. His feet were frozen to the floor. He didn't want to hear it, but he also needed to hear it. To make it reality.

"Nobody," Brian whispered harshly, turning his face away from both of them, pushing his shirt down to hide the marks.

"Come on kid," Deb knelt beside the bed, brushing Brian's long bangs out of his face softly. "Vic and I will call your mom and dad-"

"No!," Brian yelled loudly, sitting up on the bed, despite the pain. "Nobody is calling my fucking parents," the boy gritted his teeth through the pain. He gasped to gain his breath, his stomach muscles quivering still from the beating and making it difficult for him to inhale.

"Whoa..." Deb put her hand on his shoulder to calm him down, as Vic stood, ready to catch the boy again if he fell. "Now, now... there is nothing to be embarrassed about... Lord knows Michael's come home with a black eye or two-" she looked to her son, who had pressed himself against the wall as if trying to pass right through it.

Michael was pale, his eyes opened wide. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd never seen anyone this beaten up before in high school. Never seen a kid able to inflict this much pain on another.

"There is no one to call. There is no one to blame," Brian whispered, attempting to stay in the sitting position. "I'm okay..." he tried to take a deep breath, but shuddered as he sucked it in. "I'm alright." As he said it again, the others in the room realized that Brian wasn't talking to them, but to himself.

He slowly raised himself to his feet, arms out in an effort to keep his balance, as Deb stood to one side and Vic to the other.

"Mom... maybe we should just let him go home," Michael said, his voice ragged. He knew that the last place Brian would want to be right now was in Michael's home. In his room. Where the person that was all to blame for this slept. Who could blame Brian for wanting to go?

"Where do you live, Brian?" Vic asked, arms open ready to catch him if he fell. Vic knew that teenage boys couldn't be told what to do... they'd inevitably want to do the opposite. He thought it best that he try to get as much information as he could out of Brian, and see if he couldn't let the boy decide for himself that it was best that he go home.

"Just a couple of houses..." Michael started to answer, then stopped as he saw the glare Brian was giving him. He shut his mouth with an audible clap.

"Can... Can I just talk to Mikey for a minute?" Brian asked, now standing in front of the bed, but obviously putting on a show for Vic and Deb. He looked like he was ready to keel over again, and his breath came ragged.

"Listen kid, I would like to take you to the hospital," Deb said, watching him closely.

"No, really... I'm okay. I just need to talk to Mikey," Brian attempted a smile, which came out grotesque under the dark purple bruise on his face.

Michael was terrified at what Brian would say to him. How could Michael ever apologize for getting Brian into this mess? How could he ever...

Vic and Deb left the room at Brian's insistence and promises that he was feeling okay. And an assurance that he wouldn't try to climb out the window to escape. Deb wanted to ensure the boy was all right, and if he wouldn't go home, he was certainly better under her roof than on the street.

Deb pulled the door shut, but didn't latch it. She kept this trick from the days when Michael was a little boy and had nightmares. She could push the door open ever so lightly and check up on Michael without making a sound.

As soon as the boys saw the door shut, Brian promptly collapsed back on the bed, a huge sigh escaping his lips. He lay sideways on the bed, his long legs draped over the edge, touching the carpet.

Michael pressed himself harder against the wall, not looking at Brian. Could he disappear if he wished it hard enough?

The room was silent for a moment, then Michael heard sudden wet gasps. He realized Brian was crying again, and his instincts took over. He sat on the bed beside Brian, then leaned back on the bed to lie beside him, his short legs hanging over the edge like Brian's, but not touching the ground.

Brian's hands covered his face, and Michael could see hot tears streaming down the sides of his face, wetting the dark bruises on his cheeks, making them glisten in the light.

"Was it Dan?" Michael whispered to Brian.

Brian suddenly snorted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Are you kidding? No." He turned his head and looked at Michael, revealing his red-rimmed wet eyes. "Fuck no," he repeated, sighing heavily again in an effort to catch his breath, which had now started to come back.

"You can't figure it out?" Brian asked.

"N-no..." Michael replied. "I just figured it was because they saw you with me... it's my fault."

"Mikey... it..." Brian started then stopped. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand," he finished, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. "It doesn't matter. And it definitely wasn't your fault."

He paused, then changed his tone. "Your mom is nice. Who's the guy?"

"Oh... my uncle Vic," Michael answered, but not ready to let Brian drop this. "Listen Brian, you can tell me anything... I won't tell. I have lots of secrets."

"Mikey... I don't know you. You don't know me. You don't need to get involved in my shit," Brian closed his eyes, his tears now gone, his cool exterior returned once again. Despite the bruises on his face and his swollen lip, Michael thought Brian was the most beautiful person he ever saw in his whole life.

"Brian... I don't have anything in my life. All I have is my mom and my uncle Vic and my comics. I have room in my life for your shit. For a real friend. Tell me who did this," Michael said, his heart open to Brian. He so wanted to help him. So wanted to be a part of his life in anyway he could.

Brian slowly raised himself to his elbows, then pulled his legs up to the bed, and sat cross-legged, facing Mikey, who replicated the position. The boys faced each other. Brian held his head down, his soft brown hair falling into his face, covering his eyes, protecting him. Michael's open, welcoming gaze held Brian... he watched every movement. His relief at it not being his fault was forgotten and replaced with caring, empathy, and a sincere desire to listen and help.

Moments passed. Brian sighed again. Michael sat silent. He knew how to listen. How to be a friend.

"I didn't really do anything, you know," Brian whispered finally, his voice cracking a bit. "He just came at me... he just decided it was my turn... he just-" he stopped suddenly holding his head down, not looking at Michael. Brian squeezed his hands together tightly, balling them into fists, then releasing them over and over.

Michael waited.

"And I tried to get out of the house, and my mom didn't do anything... and my sister just laughed at me... and..." Brian raised his head and looked at Michael, his eyes glistening with tears. "He fucking beat the shit out of me. Again."

"Your dad," Michael said quietly. Not a question, a statement.

Brian dipped his head, holding his breath, trying not to cry. It wasn't the pain of the beating that hurt him. It was the pain of being hated by his father. It was the pain of having to leave his home, be picked up by people he didn't even know, and sit here in their house at 1:00 in the morning because he had nowhere else to go. Because there was no one that loved him. Fuck that.

Michael waited a moment, waiting to see if Brian had anything else he wanted to say. More than anything else Michael wanted to show Brian that he cared. He tentatively leaned towards the boy, then reached around Brian, hugging him tightly. Michael half expected Brian to push him away and call him a queer, but he didn't. Instead, he put arms around Michael back, gripping him, holding on to him for dear life. The tears came despite his attempts to stop them.

Deb couldn't sleep knowing the boy was in her home, hurting, aching for something. She was confident that Michael would be there for him - he was a natural listener, with an open heart. He had so much to give. He would be the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Michael would give his life for you.

She used her old trick to push her son's door open a crack so she could see if the boys were all right. The two of them lay side by side on the bed, eyes shut in sleep.

Deb closed the door and smiled. Her son had a friend. Things would be better now.

Thank God for Brian Kinney, she thought, as she headed back to her own bed.