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“Brian!”
Without a second thought, Sway took off in the other direction. Moving blindly through Brian’s home.
“Brian, where are you?!” Sway yelled. He knew Brian couldn’t answer him but at least he’d know Sway had heard him and he was coming. Dammit, why didn’t I get the ten-cent tour before I took a nap?
He ran through what appeared to be a den, and up two steps before making a sharp right. He was getting more afraid by the second. If Brian had been okay he would’ve came out by now.
“Brian, baby. Where are you?!” Sway busted through the door to a spare bedroom, then a bathroom, then another half bath. He hurried back towards the front, swiveling his head back and forth when he got to a fork. Shit! Did I come from that way? There was an opening blocked off by an Oriental-style room partition but there was no light on in that room either. How many rooms are there? Sway stopped. He was getting frustrated and he felt he was failing Brian for every millisecond that he couldn’t find him. His heart was beating so frantically, he inhaled sharply through his nose in an effort not to pass out. He knew something was wrong. Had to be. Sway took a deep breath and tried to focus. He had to calm himself. Brian needed him. He stilled and listened. After a couple of shaky breaths, he finally heard soft music straight ahead.
Moving as if his ass was on fire, Sway nearly shouldered open the door, exploding through it, not caring if he was barging into a dangerous situation or not. He had to find Brian. Sway realized he was in the garage, or a room that had once been a garage. It was a big space full of lumber, slabs of woods, tools, complex machines and anything else that was sold in Home Depot.
“Brian?!” Sway moved through the high-stacked columns of wood until he found Brian curled up—as tight as his big body would allow—with his hands over his ears and sweat on his brow.
Sway dropped to his hands and knees and tried to pull Brian into him, but he was refusing him. Fighting him. He had his hands over his ears, but Sway didn’t know what sound could’ve triggered this reaction. He wasn’t sure what to do as Brian rocked and squeezed the sides of his head. His lips moved but Sway couldn’t make out what he was mouthing.
“God, baby. What do I do?” Sway felt so fucking helpless. There was no medical treatment he could perform right now. He was pretty sure Brian was experiencing a flashback. He knew what they were, his mom had battled them after the accident. He reached for Brian again, touching his hands but Brian yanked them away as if he’d been hit, his eyes squeezed closed so hard they had to hurt. Did he call his brother? Or, should he call Dana? He didn’t know.
“I’m here, Brian.” Sway got down even lower, putting his face so close to Brian’s he could smell the wine still lingering on his breath. His pulse beat rapidly beneath the strained skin on his neck. Brian’s body was strung so tight, Sway wanted to do nothing but touch him and massage it all away. He stared at Brian’s mouth, watching the repetitive movement.
“What are you saying, baby?” Sway whispered, his voice breaking at the sight before him.
When he got it he jumped up, almost knocking over a tall ladder that sat underneath a partially completed light fixture. Sway didn’t have time to care. He hurried over to the small radio, frantically searching for the off button. All he could see was Brian’s dry lips mouthing, ‘stop singing’, ‘stop singing’ and knew right then that’d it’d been the music. Sway didn’t know what the hell Marvin Gaye had to do with his past, but it was causing Brian pain, so Sway yanked the damn cord out of the wall when he couldn’t find the on/off switch.
He rushed back to Brian’s side and curled up on the floor with him. With the music gone Sway continued to murmur gently in his ear. It was a while before he felt Brian’s body start to slowly relax. “I’ve got you, now.” Sway said softly, wiping at the sweat on Brian’s forehead and down his temples. He pushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen to the front. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Sway thought he heard the faintest whisper of his name, or he might’ve just wished for it.
Brian
Why didn’t I just leave the fuckin’ radio off? Brian leaned his forehead against the hot tiles, letting the scalding water beat on his tense shoulders. He wanted to smash his fist into the steamed-up glass, but destroying his bathroom wouldn’t take away his humiliation. Brian wanted to sink down in the shower and stay there until he wasn’t ashamed anymore.
