Who Brendan Prince and Dylan Hayes
What Finally, the kid gets what he deserves.
Where Dylan's apartment
When After Brendan stops in to see the unconscious William to see the damages and silently rage.
Rating/status Oooh, R. Brendan says R. For violence. And mentions of suicide. And crotch punching. Don't ask. / Done


The moment he hung up on Dylan, Brendan started to scream. Flat out wail. He couldn't take this. He was standing by his coffee table and it was thrown over on it's side as he yelled out profanities and began to cry. William was hurt. Critical. Dylan. He went to see Dylan. After he said he wouldn't, after Brendan got involved with that damn Elkins, after he tried so hard to keep the man interested, after everything. Hurt. Critical. Dylan.

He thought of calling Carson, but he didn't want to be calmed down. He didn't want to be told it would be okay, or anything. He wanted to rage. He deserved it. He had been holding it in for months now, and now...Now he was going to let it out.

He got to the hospital and didn't even try to get in to see William on honest grounds, going up to the desk and saying, his power flowing out in his words, strong with his anger and anguish, "Take me to see William Biggs-Turner, please," Even with the polite word, it wasn't a suggestion, it was a command, and the nurse didn't even stop to blink before she was leading him to the room William was in, barely in the door before Brendan said, "Go back to your desk," And she left, confused when she arrived at the desk, wondering what just happened.

Brendan stood over William's bed, looking down at the man that he loved, yet who kept kicking and screaming over their relationship, hurting Brendan again and again. A child. HIV. A deal with Elkins. Two deals with Elkins. Paying for an apartment for the little cretin. Never letting Brendan talk about his parents with him and cry. And yet now. Now Brendan was forced into a hospital, which always made him think of his parents, of their deaths, of how they looked when they arrived here-probably this same hospital-of what happened, of how long it took before his mother passed for his father to give up, and of how long it had taken for someone to call him. Two hours too late. And now he was here again, tears in his eyes as he stared down at William.

His fingers ran over the man's hand and he sighed, "I can't let this happen to me anymore, baby. I'm sorry," He choked a bit on the words, more tears spilling out, sobs filling his throat, "I haven't even finished mourning mom and dad. I can't mourn you yet," He patted the man's hand before stepping back, unable to stay close, hurt and pain and anger still swelling in him. This man kept going to a child. A child. For what? Did they kiss before Dylan did this? Did they have sex? Did they touch? Brendan didn't know. If William died, Dylan would be the last person he saw. That thought made Brendan take off running out of the hospital, the nurse calling after him, asking if he was all right. No, he wasn't all right.

He went back to the house. He was looking for something. Something to tip him off to where Dylan was. He had to find the kid. He had to find out where he was living. So, he rooted through William's drawers. He hadn't ever snooped in his lover's things, that wasn't like Brendan, even if William thought him nosy.

"I wonder what lovely epithets they had for me today," He spoke out loud to himself, noticing Trinket whining by the door by ignoring it for his task, "'Queen Brendan doesn't know I'm here. you look bloody sexy in that speedo'," He said with a sneer, shaking his head, "'Is that a knife in your suit or are you just glad to see me? Oh, it's a knife,'" He choked on the words, eyes blurring with new tears as he threw William's clothes out of the dresser, trying to find papers or anything. The bedside table was last, and there he found what he wanted. A lease. To an apartment.

Lease in hand, Brendan ran out of the house, hopping in his car and taking off. His eyes were dark with his intentions, and when he got to the apartment, he knocked on the door loudly, calling through it, his power already lacing his words, clouding them with his ability for persuasion.

"Dylan, open the door and let me in, and don't you dare touch me!"