So, a while back, I wrote an original story about a little girl who could talk to dead people called A day like any other day.
Someone asked if I could do something similar with Justin and Brian, so, here it is.
It takes place during episode 101.
It's dark, and angsty but there is no character death.
Except for Jack.
Timeline: During episode 101.
Warnings: Dark themes, Jack is dead, insane!Justin
Summary: Justin, who can talk to the dead, keeps getting bothered by Jack who wants to make amends with Brian.
Note: Jack died a whole year earlier than in canon.
numb adj: 1. devoid of emotion; indifferent. 2. devoid of sensation
"Who were you talking to Justin?" Jennifer asked her twelve year old son.
"Grandpa," Justin shrugged.
"Oh honey. Your grandfather has been dead for four years."
"Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I don't talk to him still," Justin said.
"That's so sweet baby," Jennifer cooed as she smoothed the blond hair from his head. "Honey, you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I feel great," Justin smiled half-heartedly.
"You know I'm always here honey. You always have a shoulder to cry on," she said as she walked out of the room.
"See? She'll never believe me," Justin said to the thing in the room.
"A shoulder to cry on?" the old man queried. "I think I've never seen you cry."
"You have to feel to cry. I'm numb," Justin replied back.
"I think he needs help."
"Craig, Justin's fine. He doesn't need help."
"Jennifer, he talks to himself."
"Everyone talks to themselves once in a while," she said back distractedly.
"He laughs at himself too."
"I laugh at you," Jennifer said as she shook her head and pointed to Craig.
"I don't know," Craig said as he ignored his wife's comment, "I worry about him..."
"We need to talk Justin," Craig said as he sat on Justin's bed.
"It's not the talk, is it? Cuz I gotta tell you, it's a little late. I'm fifteen and well, ewww."
"I'm worried about you." He really didn't want to have this talk but he was seriously contemplating having his son committed.
"Don't. I'm fine."
"You're so secretive, you disappear for hours everyday. We don't know where you go..."
"Sounds like a normal teenager to me dad."
"You've been this way since you were eight dammit! You talk to yourself. You're so withdrawn."
"I don't talk to myself," Justin said too quickly as he stared his father down.
"Justin, we can hear, your mother and I, in your room..."
"I'm...I'm talking to people."
"You wouldn't understand," Justin said. As he turned around, he caught sight of the thing sitting on his bed, it's wrists slashed, that haunted look in its eyes.
"Oh great. This is all I needed," Justin said while throwing his arms in the air in defeat.
"What was that Justin?" Craig asked.
"Nothing dad. Could you shut the door on your way out? I'm about to talk to myself again," Justin sneered. As the door shut behind his father, Justin looked back at the thing on his bed in contempt. "Don't tell me, let me guess. No one understood you, right?"
"I need to talk to you about something."
Craig breathed in and let out a long, slow breath as he looked at his seventeen year old son.
It was finally time.
"What is it Justin?"
"I talk to people. They're dead. I talk to dead people," Justin said as he nodded his head.
Craig looked around at his home. His very pretty and perfect home. With its perfect and pretty people. A perfect wife. A perfect daughter.
And his perfect and beautiful yet insane son.
"Justin," he started.
"It's true dad. They find me. They come to me. They always want something. To tell me something, something I need to tell their loved ones," Justin finished, saying 'loved ones' as if it were a dirty word. "They've been coming to me since I could talk. They always get what they want in the end. I always help them. I'm so tired dad."
Justin finished and knew it was all for nothing.
He would always be alone with his burden.
Craig stared at his son. He knew Justin wasn't lying.
Because he believed Justin believed it to be true.
He was not prepared for this. And as all things he was in no way prepared for, he put a lighter spin on things. "And here I thought you were gonna tell me you were gay," Craig chuckled.
Justin laughed coldly, "well about that..."
"What do you want?" Justin asked the thing standing in the middle of his room.
"Name's Jack," the thing said as it stepped forward.
"Nice to meet you," Justin started and then sneered. "Oh wait...no it's not."
"I need your help sonny boy."
"I'm not your 'sonny boy.' I'm not your messenger boy either. Come back later."
"When's a good time?" the thing asked.
"How 'bout never?"
Justin didn't know why he bothered.
They always came back.
"I need to talk about my son."
"What am I, your fucking priest?" Justin snickered.
"You're a little shit, you know that?" Jack said.
"Oh, you hurt my feelings old man," Justin mocked as he clutched his heart.
"I'd say I did but you haven't got any do you?"
"I'll be back."
And Justin knew he would.
"Well, at least you know my name."
"I really need your help."
"How can you not care?"
"I don't feel. I'm numb."
"That's no way to go through life sonny boy."
"It is if you want to survive it."
"Persistent fuck, aren't you?"
"Watch your mouth sonny boy."
"I told you I'm not your...fine, what do you need? What do you want?" Justin sighed.
"My son...I called him something before I died. I want him to know I loved him. I love him. I still do."
"Oh wow. How original," Justin sneered. "And here I thought you were gonna tell me about a fortune in gold doubloons buried somewhere." Justin sighed. "So old man, spit it out, what did you call him?"
"A fairy. I said he should be the one dying, not me. He had just told me he was gay," the thing said as it looked down in shame. "I shouldn't have left it off at that. I planned on going back but it was too late."
Justin laughed during all of Jack's confession. "Oh this is rich," he said as he leaned back in his chair.
"You'll help me, right?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, I don't wanna see your ugly face anymore so, yeah."
"You'll help me," Jack sighed. "You're my only hope. You're okay with him being," he swallowed, "gay, right?"
Justin laughed again. "You ever heard the term 'poetic irony' Jack..."
"Bye Justin!" Daphne said as she turned the car around and drove away.
"So, this is Liberty Avenue. I'm told our kind all hangs out around here. You see him?" Justin asked as he walked along the sidewalk next to the thing.
"Not yet. I'm not exactly sure where he hangs out..."
Justin knew this was a bad idea. He stopped to lean up against a lamp post.
"Oh God. There he is," the thing said.
Justin lifted his head to where the old man was pointing.
If he weren't so numb, he would have been able to identify that thing that was stirring deep within himself.
The man was a living god.
The guy must take after his mother.
"I think he likes you," the old man said. "His name's Brian, by the way."
Justin stood at attention when he noticed Brian staring right back at him.
Now what was this all about?
Did he see the old man too?
Brian walked up to Justin and backed him against the post.
"How's it going? Had a busy night?"
"Always," Justin sneered. "Does that line really work?"
"It has its uses," the man said and snorted. "Where you headed?"
"Hell, no doubt," Justin said sarcastically and then sighed. "No place special."
"I can change that."
"I highly doubt that," Justin said under his breath and followed the man to his Jeep.
"How old are you?" Brian asked as he got dressed.
"Seventeen," Justin answered, not a hint of hesitation in his voice. "So where we going?"
'Seventeen?! Christ kid! You gonna tell and get me in all sorts of trouble," Brian asked.
"I'll never tell. Unlike most people, I usually keep my word when I say I'll take my secrets to the grave and they'll actually stay there," Justin said.
"Usually when someone says they'll take their secrets to their grave, then it means it'll stay there, since they're dead," Brian laughed.
"You'd be surprised."
The dead never shut up.
"The hospital?" Justin asked nervously while keeping up with Brian and Michael running down the corridor. "You didn't say we were going to the hospital."
Justin continued to run, dodging all the bodies along the corridor, all pushing into each other, seeking to capture an audience with him.
"What's wrong with you?" Michael sneered.
"Don't like hospitals," Justin mumbled, side stepping another body trying to reach out to him.
They reached a room with a swarm of women standing around a bed, all cooing over a baby that was currently being held by a pleasant looking woman.
"I'm a grandfather," Jack said.
"You're dead. You're not anything anymore," Justin whispered back.
"We've been thinking of names. Mel wants to call him Abraham after her grandfather, but ... I like Gus," the woman holding the baby said.
"What do you think?" Brian asked Justin.
"The kid won't last a day on the playground with a name like Abraham," Jack scowled.
"Gus," Justin said.
He didn't want to elaborate.
He just didn't give a shit.
"What's he high on?" Justin asked Michael.
"E. It's a club drug wonder boy," Michael deadpanned.
"You shouldn't do drugs not prescribed to you by a physician. You could OD," Justin said while looking at Brian seriously.
"Aw, listen to the kid. He's like a public service announcement. Isn't that cute Mikey?"
"Okay fine," Justin pouted, "but if you die, don't come back bitching to me or I'll tell you I told you so."
Brian laughed hysterically while he climbed into the Jeep.
Justin gripped the sheets under him as he rode the pleasure and the pain as Brian rammed continuously into him. The first time they had done it, Brian had been slow and careful, but by the third time, Brian had abandoned all control and was driving into Justin mercilessly.
"God, I could stay in here forever," Brian groaned out as he slowed down a bit. Brian leaned over and covered Justin's mouth with his own as he plundered within.
The sensations were once again too much for Justin. Brian managed to hit that spot continuously on each stroke. Justin didn't know what the spot was, but he would look for it more often when he was alone. He exploded as he felt his orgasm literally ripped out of him. His body clenched Brian and the vice-like grip elicited a scream from the man above.
Justin could feel Brian's orgasm throughout his body as the man shook violently while holding on tightly to Justin.
"Fuck, that was intense," Brian gasped out. He leaned down for another passionate kiss, surprised by his reluctance to let the boy go.
Justin looked over and noticed the thing standing in the corner. "Enjoy the show Jack?"
"No don't say anything now," the thing said, trying to indicate this wasn't the time.
"Jack?" Brian asked, looking down at Justin. "Did you just say...?"
"Yes, you heard me." Justin started laughing. "Your dad, before he died...called you a fairy and said you should be the one dying, right?" Justin asked casually.
"But how did you know? No one knows," Brian started, inching his way back from the enigma that lay below him.
"I can talk to the dead. Your dad is dead. Ergo, I can talk to your dad. You're a college graduate, right?" Justin asked puzzled. "Oh and he says he loves you. Innit that right Jack?" Justin asked the corner of the room. Justin laid trapped beneath Brian's arms as his fit of laughter started up once again.
Brian looked down in horror at the laughing boy. "How can you...why are you like this? Does he...how can you be so cruel?" Brian implored.
"I can't feel," Justin said as he shook with more laughter and then stopped. "But I felt you," he whispered. Justin continued to laugh until the laughter turned into whimpers and then into full heart-wrenching sobs.
Brian at a loss as to what was going on, held onto the weeping boy in his arms, rubbing small circles on Justin's back, an occasional 'I've got ya' could be heard.
They stayed just like that for a long time after.
"Hmmm," Jack said, "maybe, not so numb after all."
*runs and hides*
Feedback is welcome and loved.
Kinda dark, I know. I know.
Don't hate me.