Maria (slave_o_spike) wrote,

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QaF Standalone "Pictures in Color"

_alicesprings had asked people over at qaf_bunnies (I think it was there) about Craig and if he still loved his son. I think she wanted something regarding their future. I'm not so sure.

But this was something that came to me. What was going through Craig's head when he first learned about Justin and Brian. I'm looking at it from the point of view of a mother or a father of a 17 year old daughter when she/he discovers for the first time that their daughter is having sex. There is a huge loss and I think that the first time Craig learned about his son and his preferences, he might have felt like this.

I think at first it didn't really have anything to do with him being gay but how he first perceived of what Justin was actually doing.

I don't know. You can tell me if I'm full of shit or not...

Title: Pictures in color
Pairing: Brian/Justin
POV: Craig
Timeline: Just after the 'revelation scene' in 107 but before all the 'madness' in that same episode.
Warnings: none
Rating: R
Summary: What exactly made Craig mad enough to accost Brian?
Genre: Angst

Note: No - this is not crack!

Disclaimers: I don't own Cowlip or the boys.

As Craig fingered the t-shirt he had purchased at the local discount store, a shirt that was one size too small for him, the utter starkness of the white shirt recalled a time to him.

A hospital room.

The hospital room that Justin was born in to be exact. If he thought about it long enough, he could almost recall the way it had been impossible to keep the goofy smile from forming on his lips as the nurse had handed him his baby boy.

He remembered how crisp and clean and white his christening gown had been as he had been baptized. That combined with the gown, the lighting of the church as it came in through the stained glass window and the pale skin of his son, had made it seem to appear that the child was glowing.

He burned the memory into his brain as he could never in a million years capture that same effect on camera, no matter how many filters he would or could use.

Craig made his way through the line, pushing past all the other men hoping to get into the club, stepping on someone's foot.

"Hey! Watch it!" The man turned to Craig while giving him an appraising look. The man winked at Craig and turned around.

He felt so wrong here. But he had to know. He had to see.

That was the whole reason he was in this ridiculous shirt, in a pair of jeans that had fit him fine last year but were one size too small now. He didn't want to stick out when he went in.

When he went in to find his son. He didn't want to make a scene. He didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to see.

One part of him hoped Justin was there so that this whole charade was not in vain.

Another part of him hoped he wasn't.

He waited his turn in line like everyone else and as everyone else chatted around him about actually pretty mundane things, he stared at the green shirt of the man in front of him.

He remembered that Justin's first bike, given to him at the tender age of six, was the same shade of green. Things had been a bit tight for them back then, but he had saved for quite a while so he could get that particular bike for his son.

He remembered how he had held the back of the bike for Justin after he had taken the training wheels off and Justin rode off, exclaiming to 'let go daddy!' Craig had let go and Justin had teetered for awhile before he rode in a circle for his dad's benefit.

Justin had stopped the bike, looked at his dad, smiled his almost toothless smile (how many teeth had he lost that year anyway?) and said, 'see daddy, I can do it all by myself! You can let go now!'

Let go

Those words would echo in his head all night, just as surely as the beat of the music playing would echo in his head until the morning.

Craig took a look around, looking for him. He knew if he found him, then Justin wouldn't be too far behind. Craig walked to the bar and leaned against it, trying hard to fit in. There was a group of men talking to each other next to him. It reminded him of the lunchroom at his business.

"Hey Craig! How's that son of yours? Justin, isn't it?" Kyle asked.

"Great. Last year at St James," Craig replied, not wanting to expound any further.

"Bet he's got the girls going after him. Probably have to turn the phone off at night just to stop them callin', huh?" Kyle said and winked.

Craig laughed while turning away, "yeah."

"My Mandy, I gotta keep an eye on her all the time. She's an easy mark for any guy who knows just how to say the right thing, ya know? Aw, whaddya know about it've got a son. I envy you. You'll never have to worry about anyone nailin' him."

Craig shuddered as he recalled the conversation in the lunchroom a scant eight hours ago.

Kyle's words and that insufferable wink remained in his head all day, making him want to come here.

Here of all places just to see.

"Oooh, sweety, I just love that color on you. It's perfect," someone said behind Craig.

"Do ya think so? What do you think Dave would say?" asked the other man.

"Sweetie," the man replied as he put his arm around his friend, "Doctor Dreamboat would love the color, right after he tore that shirt off you and devoured you whole."

Both men laughed.

Craig decided now was the time to see if he could find who he was looking for so he could get out of this place, go home and forget this night ever happened.

Maybe he would fire Kyle tomorrow morning. It would make him feel better.

"Um...excuse me," he asked, interrupting their conversation.

The tallest of the trio looked at Craig and smiled at him. "Well aren't you a sweetheart!" the man cooed.

"You really think so?" Craig asked uncertainly and then shook his head clear. "I'm looking for someone."

"Aren't we all," the dark haired man deadpanned while sipping his drink.

Craig continued, "his name's Kinney."

The trio became very quiet. The tall one then leaned over and put his arm around Craig while the dark haired man snickered.

"Oh honey, trust me, you don't want that one. I'll help you find someone more in your league...," the tall man continued as he looked around the club, no doubt looking for someone in Craig's 'league.'

"Yeah, besides," the man said who was asking about his shirt earlier, "he's with his boy-toy in the backroom right now and I don't think you want to disturb him."

"His boy...boy-toy?" Craig asked worriedly.

"Yeah," the man with dark hair said as he came up to Craig. "You know, young, too young if you ask me, tight, innocent. Would you like me to go on?"

"No, actually I don't...," Craig broke in while trying not to get sick.

"Brian's the only one who's fucked him. What guy could turn that down? Ya know," the man with the shirt said. "If you ask me, once he gets tired of the kid, he'll get rid of him."

"Now Michael, I think our little Sunshine isn't like that..." the tall man started.

"Sunshine?" Craig asked.

"An endearment," the dark haired man said. "Actually, how could Kinney pass that up? Here's to tight, virgin asses," the man said as he lifted his glass.

"Fuck it, I'll drink to that," the tall man said as he lifted his glass.

The man named Michael laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, alright. To tight asses!"

All three men laughed and clinked glasses. "Honey are you okay?" the tall man asked. "You don't look so good."

"Where...where's the backroom?" Craig asked.

"Um...maybe you should use the bathroom," Michael said, looking a bit concerned for the man.

"Please...the backroom?" Craig asked again.

"Straight through there. You'll know it when you hearing the groaning and the grunting," said the dark haired man.

Craig pushed himself away from the bar and headed in the direction the man had pointed. As he looked around, he noticed all the blue.

So much blue.

The same blue as Justin's eyes when he first opened them in the hospital. The same blue of his eyes when he first walked toward him on that night when Jennifer was at the market shopping.

He never told Jen that that was the first time Justin had walked. His son had walked again when she came home that night and Craig acted dutifully surprised as Jen screamed about their son's first step.

He remembered how blue his son's eyes were when he cried that time he had fell on the pavement when trying to learn how to skateboard. How blue they were when he laughed as they watched cartoons together on some of the rare Saturday mornings he was home.

Craig stopped when he came to the section the man had indicated with a hallway leading to another room. He heard the sounds of the men reaching sexual gratification.

This must be the place, Craig thought.

Craig walked through the maze of men in various positions, twisted around each other. Normally he would have been repulsed, but he was here for one thing only.

To find Justin.

But looking at the men in their various states of pleasure, he just hoped he wouldn't find him. Maybe he really was at Daphne's tonight. Maybe those men were wrong.

He stopped as he came upon two figures against a wall.

Yeah and maybes are for chumps.

Against the wall, a figure with a shock of blond hair (hair that shone in the sun that day on the bike) was splayed out, moaning and making sounds, sounds Craig had never heard coming from Justin's mouth, as the man behind him continued to move against him.

Craig took in the face plastered against the wall, with his eyes closed (when his eyes were closed in sleep, people always said he looked like an angel), that look on his face. He looked at the man behind him, possessively trapping the body beneath him, the look, that look, on his face mirroring his son's.

You'll never have to worry about anyone nailin' him

As he watched both the men (men, Craig told himself, Justin was no longer a boy), he had seen what he had come to see.

His little boy was gone. Lost to him, never to come back.

Let go daddy!

Craig couldn't see the pictures anymore of Justin's childhood. All the colors were gone now, gone like his son's innocence.

The only color he could see was red.


Feedback is welcome - as I said before - if you don't agree, or if you do, or whatever, let me know. I won't be offended.

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