This is the nineteenth story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows A Torturous Hardship That Smolders. This is a missing scene that serves as a transition between Curt trashing the recording booth and Brian screaming at Curt as he leaves the building. I always wondered what they might have argued about, and this is my take on that, for what it's worth.

Warnings: m/m, major angst, AU, bad language, and spoilers for the movie.

~Silk

*****

Every Salted Tear

By Silk

"Curt! Wait!"

Curt kept walking and never looked back. Brian ran after him, suddenly realizing that Curt was serious about leaving. "Curt! Please!"

All at once Curt stopped, so abruptly that Brian almost fell over him, "You've got no right to stop me, Brian."

"I have every right, Curt. I love you."

The look on Curt's face was tragic. "You've got even *less* right to tell me that, Brian."

"Don't say that, Curt. I know I screwed up. But you don't understand. Jerry *lied* to me. He showed me *proof*. I had no idea it was fake. I swear."

Curt's eyes grew even bleaker, if that were possible. "You could have *asked* me, Brian. You could have *told* me what he said."

"I wanted to."

"But you didn't. You didn't fucking *trust* me, Brian. Do you know how much that *hurts*? Do you have *any* fucking idea?"

Brian didn't know what to say. He wanted to beg Curt to stay, but words eluded him.

"I didn't think so," Curt said. His outward calm was a lie. Inside he was shaking so badly, he felt like he was coming apart. He had to leave *now*. Before he gave in to the silent entreaty in Brian's eyes.

He turned away again, intending to go, but Brian's hand reached out and grabbed his hair. Curt swung his head around with an irritated frown, and Brian captured his mouth, kissing him with quiet desperation. Curt fell back against the wall with a thump and all of his earlier resolve faded away to nothing. Against his better judgment, Curt began kissing him back, heartache making Brian's lips taste bittersweet, not unlike his betrayal.

Brian mistook Curt's response for forgiveness, and he wound his fingers through Curt's hair, pulling him closer. Finally coming to his senses, Curt shoved ineffectually at Brian's chest. "You can't solve every problem like this, Brian. Fucking won't make this go away."

"We can talk about it, Curt."

"There's nothing to talk *about*, Brian. If you don't *trust* me, how can you still say you *love* me?"

Brian drew back, stung. "But I *do*, Curt," he said, as if that were the only answer to every question.

"Not good enough, Brian, and you know it."

Curt sighed and levered himself off the wall. "I love you, Brian, but I'm not willing to give up being *Curt* anymore just so I can be Brian Slade's kept boy."

"I never asked you to-" Brian protested.

"Not in words maybe. But you expect it."

"So that's it? Just like that, you're going to take off for God knows where? Like I don't...*matter*?" Brian choked on the last word, the comfortable numbness of his initial shock over their imminent break-up wearing off rapidly.

"I have to go," Curt said again.

"You promised! You promised you wouldn't leave me, Curt, but you're just like everyone else!" Brian screamed, his eyes burning with tears he refused to shed.

"I promised I wouldn't go *willingly*, Brian, but you're pushing me out the door with both hands! Don't you get that? Cause until you *do*, we've got nothing to say to each other!"

"Fuck you, Curt!"

Driven beyond the limits of his already battered control, Curt drew back a fist to punch Brian, but he couldn't do it. Brian laughed bitterly, but it was the raucous sound of hysteria, not amusement.

"Hit me! Go ahead, Curt! If violence will make you feel better, go ahead!"

Curt seemed to fold in on himself, his entire body shrinking into a compact black shape. "Unlike you, Brian," he said huskily, "I never *meant* to hurt you."

"Fuck you!"

"I don't want to remember you this way-"

"I don't want to remember you at all!"

"Goodbye, Brian."

"If you walk out now, I'll sue you for breach of contract, Curt!"

"Go ahead, Brian, Everything good I ever had was here with you. Maybe someday you'll realize just what you're giving up to be where you are."

Before he could change his mind, Curt made his way down the narrow corridor and quickly found his coat. Drawing the black leather around his suddenly shivering body, he exited the building and entered the courtyard directly behind it.

Eton and his assistant were smoking at the end of the dark expanse and laughed when Curt passed them without a word. Brian flung open the window and aimed the frayed remnants of what should have been anger but felt like torment at Curt's retreating figure.

"Piss off then! Go on, go back to your wolves and your junkie twerps and your bloody shock treatment, and fuck you, too!"

Whatever catharsis Brian expected to feel didn't come. If anything, he felt more wretched than ever. Curt was gone.

Appalled at what he'd said, supposedly in the name of what he'd most fervently believed to be *love*, Brian stared into the darkness, his beautiful face distorted by fear and grief and his own inability to forgive himself for what he had done.

Mandy stood directly below Brian's window and looked up at her husband. For one moment, Brian was nakedly vulnerable, and she knew that he hated her for seeing that. Their eyes met briefly, then Brian ducked his head inside and closed the window with a slam that reverberated throughout the surrounding walls.

Brian sank below the level of the window, where he knew Mandy couldn't see, and slumped against the wall. It wasn't worth it. He hadn't even begun to deal with losing Curt, and it wasn't fucking worth it. Why had he thought his image, his career, was more important than what he had with Curt?

He'd gotten lost in the lie. The lie that Jerry told, the lie that he was a big fucking star who treated people like they were pawns to be bent to his will, the lie that he didn't need *anyone*, not even *Curt*.

But he wasn't even close to appreciating any of this. Not really. He hadn't reached bottom yet. He still thought, in his arrogance, that Curt should have *understood*, should have *believed* in him, even though he wasn't willing to admit that *he* hadn't trusted *Curt* the same way.

"I won't fucking beg you to come back," Brian whispered to himself, unaware that tears were slowly rolling down both cheeks. "I can make it without you."

But his body thought that was just one more fucking lie.

End