Curt buried his face in his hands, the only sound inside the car his increasingly uneven breathing. The car phone rang, but he ignored it. Who would be calling him here?

But its insistent call refused to be denied. Curt wearily raked his fingers through his unkempt blond hair and lifted the receiver to his ear.

"What the hell are you playing at?" the voice demanded furiously.

"I-"

"You shouldn't have gone there. You know that."

"I had to see him," Curt whispered brokenly.

"You'll pay for that."

"Don't hurt him. Please..." Curt blinked away tears and bit his lip. It was such a trial to think straight. "I'll do anything you say."

"I know you will," the voice said, sounding more pleased now that it had driven him to the very edge of sanity.

"Now...you'd better get on that plane. If you don't...I'll know."

Curt glanced out the window. The sign said: Heathrow Airport, 5 km. "I'm almost at the airport," he said.

"Good. You know what to do."

Curt nodded and hung up the phone. He did know what to do. He just hoped he had the courage to go through with it.

*****

"I want out. O-U-T, out."

Jerry shook his head even though he knew that Brian couldn't see him. "I'm afraid that's totally out of the question, Brian. You've got a contract. You have to finish the tour as Maxwell Demon."

"But I-"

"I know what a strain you're under, Brian," Jerry continued sympathetically. "But you'll get over this."

Him, you mean, Brian mentally corrected his manager. I'll never get over him. I don't want to.

"You don't understand, Jerry. I have to go after him. I have to find him."

"Oh, Brian," Jerry sighed. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"Where he is. He went to Berlin. He's with Jack Fairy."

"H-he wh-what?" Brian frowned. It was so hard to think. So terribly hard. "But why?"

"I assume he went to cut a record there."

"You knew? You let him go?" Brian accused, his voice rising with fear as well as pain.

"It wasn't really a matter of letting him do anything, Brian. His contract was up. There was simply no possible way I could renew it." You knew that, Jerry added silently. You knew it yesterday, and it's just as true now.

"Brian? Are you still there?" Jerry asked.

Dead silence. Not even the sound of breathing broke the almost eerie quiet that reigned. A few moments later, the dial tone returned and Jerry realized that they had been disconnected.

Jerry hung up the phone before allowing himself an extremely self-satisfied smile. "That was almost too easy, Master Demon."

*****

Brian gazed blindly out the second-floor window at the Bijoux Music townhouse. It was the last place he'd seen Curt, and the way Brian waited without moving for an hour at a time made Mandy think that Brian believed that eventually Curt would reappear. In that exact spot.

"Brian?" she inquired softly. Brian looked even more fragile than before, his natural pallor markedly pronounced. Things hadn't been the same between them since Curt came. Part of her was still outraged that she was so easily replaced. But part of her, the part that once loved Brian with all of her heart, knew how badly he was suffering and longed to comfort him.

Brian showed no visible sign that he'd heard her, but Mandy continued. "Are you all right? Would you like a sweater? You look cold."

Brian turned slowly, his normally vibrant blue eyes reflecting a grief that she couldn't begin to comprehend.

"He's not coming back," he said, his frayed emotional control evident in every single syllable.

She supposed that she should feel jealous. Here was her husband virtually admitting that he loved someone else more than he loved her. But she and Brian hadn't been real to each other in a very long time, if in fact they ever had. The truth was, they made better friends than lovers.

But this, this devastating sense of loss she saw in his eyes, this was real in a way she could never have contemplated. And she felt compelled to do whatever she could to help. She couldn't help resenting Curt and his intrusion into their lives, but since it came at Brian's behest, she couldn't lay that one at Curt's door. Maybe she could never see Curt's side of things.

But she could see Brian's side.

And maybe, just maybe the why of all that pain didn't matter this once.

"Come here," she said, opening her arms wide.

Brian hesitated, his entire body quivering uncertainly, and then, suddenly, he was there, in her arms, being held by a woman he had rarely given enough credit.

He'd never cried for her. That stung a little. But then, she'd never hurt him the way that Curt did.

*****

"I don't care about the fucking record," Brian shouted, flailing his arms. When they connected with the cup of espresso that Jerry was trying to drink, however, Jerry lost his patience.

"Well, you should care, my son. There's a great deal of money riding on this. So pull your head out of your arse and finish the damned thing!"

"The only thing I care about...isn't here," Brian snapped sullenly. He was too thin, too tired, too fucking lost to care about the record.

"That's hardly my fault," Jerry retorted. "Now get to it, you little primadonna."

"Fuck you," Brian said dispiritedly. "Fuck the whole lot of you," he continued, including Eton and the rest of the band.

"Hey, I don't have to take that crap from you, you bleeding wanker. I've got offers," Trevor growled.

"From who?" Brian sneered. "From whores?"

"Women like me. Which is more than I can say for you, you bloody poof."

"Get out," Brian said without raising his voice.

"In your dreams," Trevor scoffed.

"Jerry...I want him out," Brian said matter-of-factly.

Jerry gave Brian a long, considering look. "Out of here or out of the group?"

"Out. Fucking out."

"As you wish, Master Demon. As you wish," Jerry said smoothly. He wondered if Brian had any idea that he was very much living on borrowed time.

"Eton, roll the tape back," Brian demanded, hands on hips. That only served to emphasize how frail he'd become. His face was still beautiful, but it was the beauty that came from angular features and hollowed cheekbones that owed nothing at all to cosmetics any longer.

"Please."

"Please what?" Brian asked with a frown.

"Eton, please roll the tape back," Eton returned with something bordering on animosity.

"Fuck you, too," Brian said, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. He didn't have to take anyone's shit anymore. Not even from obsequious little toads like Eton.

"Oh," Eton replied. "Well, good luck finishing the record without me," he said cattily.

That was when Brian smiled. "I've already said that I don't care about the record. So give me one good reason why I should care about you."

"I-I..." Eton subsided with a pained sigh. He wasn't being paid enough to take this sort of thing. He really wasn't.

"Give up?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

*****

When it became obvious that Brian wasn't going to cooperate wholeheartedly with the recording process, Jerry took matters into his own hands. "Look, Brian, firing Trevor didn't get this record done. Lashing out at Eton didn't help either. If you want to go halfway across Europe searching for Curt Wild, then so be it. But finish...the goddamn...record first."

For the first time in weeks, Brian had some color in his cheeks. "Okay."

*****

They were nearly done with the record. But the last song became a major problem. Not just for Brian, but for everyone involved. For one thing, Curt had written the song for Brian to sing. Invariably Brian made it halfway through the song only to have his voice break.

"Jesus, Brian. What's so fucking hard about this particular song?"

Brian looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't know." Yes, you do, Brian told himself in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Curt's.

"It's Curt again, isn't it?" Jerry sounded exasperated. "It always comes back to Curt."

Yes, it does, Brian answered in his head. "He wr-wrote it f-for me."

"So? It's not exactly a love song, Brian."

Yes, it is. That's exactly what it is, Brian contradicted silently. Only things didn't turn out too well for anyone in the end.

The parallels were there for anyone to see. Maybe Curt had been prescient. Curt had a strangely intuitive streak that made him a natural empath. It was Curt's feelings that had drawn Brian to him in the first place.

No one could make him feel the way Curt did. Before Curt, Brian had gone around in a pleasant enough buzzed state, his heart and mind clouded but happy, albeit in the blandest possible way. It was not unlike being numb.

Comfortably numb. That was how he felt most of the time. But Curt had changed all that. You couldn't be around Curt Wild and not feel his energy. It poured off him in waves.

And now that Curt was gone, Brian could admit that he missed being the recipient of all that energy. All that caring...all that love...just for him.

He had to get him back. He had to. Because he didn't think he could fucking survive without him.

*****

"It's done." Jerry listened for a moment, then he leaned back in his executive recliner and put his feet up on his desk.

"Yeah, that's why I called. He's not giving up the way we thought."

"He's going to Berlin. To find Curt."

Jerry laughed. "Yeah, I know Curt's not that hard to find these days. But you might have to share him with-okay, okay, no sharing. Bad idea."

"He should be there tomorrow."

"I know it's not much time, but he didn't exactly consult me when he decided to go," Jerry snarled.

"I'll call you before he leaves."

*****

tbc