This is the twenty-fourth story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows Give A Man A Mask...

This is really long and really angsty. I hope Curt and Brian can survive this to get back together, if not now, someday soon. But I really tried my own patience making them *this* unhappy. :(

Warnings: m/m, MAJOR angst, AU, bad language, implied spoilers for the movie.

~Silk

*****

Finding Not Keeping

By Silk

"Where is he? I want to see him! God-dammit, get the fuck out of my way! I said I want to see him!"

Jack Fairy took hold of Curt's shoulder, and Curt, wild-eyed with grief, stared at him tearfully for the longest time, his breath hitching in his chest. "I need to see him, Jack," he whispered hoarsely.

"I know. But be careful. You're not among friends here, Curt."

Jack's dark eyes softened as he studied the younger man's tragic figure. Curt had always been slender, but now he was a wraith, all style and no substance, something Jack had no trouble imagining that someone like Brian would appreciate.

Both men turned as Shannon suddenly appeared, perched delicately at the bottom of the stairs. "Hello, Curt," she said, ignoring Jack.

"Where is he? Can I see him?" Curt asked, feeling Jack's hand solid and reassuring on his shoulder. Thank God he hadn't taken the older man to his bed. He made a much better friend. *Lovers* couldn't be trusted with your heart.

"I'm afraid-"

"I came as soon as I heard," Curt interrupted. In truth, he had jumped on a plane without thinking, tears blinding him, and it was only Jack, sweet savior Jack, who had held him together this long. Curt's tongue flicked to moisten his lips, which were suddenly and inexplicably dry.

"Are the arrangements m-made?"

"For what?" Shannon asked, a quizzical look etched between her brows.

"The funeral, man. I thought-" Now it was Curt's turn to frown as he broke out in a cold sweat. "He's not here? Where did you--?"

"Oh, he's here," Shannon said, seizing the opportunity that presented itself with both hands. Her heart cartwheeling with vindictive glee, Shannon added, "He's upstairs."

Curt didn't know. Curt didn't know. Her brain chanted joyfully, but she was careful to keep what she was plotting out of her suddenly somber eyes.

"Would you like to see him? I know he'd like to see *you*."

It took a second or two to penetrate Curt's griefstricken mind. "He's not *dead*?"

Shannon chortled merrily, and Curt knew he would never forget that sound as long as he lived. "God, no. I thought you *knew*." Covering her mouth with her hand, as if she had inadvertently revealed a closely held secret, she whispered, "Oh, my, he didn't *tell* you? It was all a *joke*. A publicity stunt. To sell records."

"The fuck it was," Curt denied, shaking his head. Instinctively backing up, he felt Jack, immovable object that he was where Curt was concerned, grip the back of his neck. There was no judgment, no censure in his grasp. He simply held onto Curt as though it was the only thing he had to do in life.

"I don't believe you. He wouldn't do that...to me. Not to *me*," Curt repeated dully.

Shannon gave Curt a considering look. "Well, my goodness, Curt, you two *have* been on the outs for a while now." She steepled her hands together prettily. "I don't know why you're surprised. You know how Brian can be."

The only visible sign that he'd heard Shannon was a slight flare of his nostrils. Curt seemed to withdraw deep inside himself, and if Jack hadn't been standing so close to him, he never would have felt Curt's agitation abruptly rise to an unconscionable level.

"Fuck." It was the only thing Curt said, but it was loudly and clearly enunciated in a way that presaged disaster for anyone who stood in his way.

Curt went from complete paralysis to utter frenzy in less than sixty seconds. He bolted past Shannon and hit the bottom stair with both feet, his boots making a thunderous racket. He stopped halfway up the staircase and grabbed hold of the antique railing, but it wasn't clear if he was using it for support or contemplating how he could turn it into a weapon. "Bri-annnn!" he screamed, losing what little control he had steadfastly exerted over his runaway feelings.

"Bri-annnn!" He ran the rest of the way upstairs, shouting Brian's name in that hoarse, anguished voice.

It sent a chill down Jack's spine to see Curt return to that empty, aching void that could never be filled inside him. But he made no attempt to follow him. It wasn't his place. This was between Curt and Brian. For better or worse.

All he could do was pick up the pieces after Brian discarded Curt. Again.

Shannon let her eyes drift in Jack's direction in what Jack assumed was an invitation to conversation. "I should call someone," she mused out loud. "Security," she added by way of explanation.

Jack cocked his head at her. "But you won't. You're enjoying this too much," he correctly surmised.

"Well," she said almost huffily, "you say that like it's a bad thing. If Curt would just *stay* out of the picture, Brian would have room in his life for other...things."

"Like you?"

Shannon chuckled. "Aren't *you* quick on the uptake?"

"Not half as quick as *you*, I imagine." Jack studied her, his face impassive. "*Brian* didn't do this. You did."

"I work for Jerry."

"Is that what you call it?"

Shannon shrugged angrily, prepared to intervene between Curt and Brian, if need be. But Jack refused to let her go. He would be disappointed if Curt went back to Brian, but it was his decision. He wanted them to have whatever time and space they needed to work things out.

Even if he had to rip every phony blonde hair from Shannon's head to do it.

Frankly, it would be his pleasure.

*****

Curt stood uncertainly on the landing, blinking back tears. Were they tears of joy because Brian was *alive*? Or were they tears of pain because Brian had fucked him over *again*?

Slowly he approached the door to Brian's office, vaguely wondering why Brian hadn't answered him. "Brian?"

He tried the door. It was locked. He had no real idea whether Brian was behind that door, but his gut told him that he *was*.

Resting his cheek on the cool mahogany surface, Curt called, "Brian? Are you in there?"

"It's me. Curt." Curt winced. He didn't expect Brian to welcome him with open arms, but he didn't think Brian had actually forgotten who he was.

"Open the door, man," he said softly. "I want to talk to you."

*****

On the other side of the door, Brian began chewing his fingernails. This was a double-edged sword. It was what he desired most. But it was also what he *feared* most.

Curt didn't sound angry anymore. Just weary. But now that the moment was upon him, Brian wasn't sure he was ready to face him.

"Curt."

"Yeah, Brian. I'm here."

The pit of Brian's stomach burned, but his hand reached out and unlocked the door.

*****

Face to face again after what was undoubtedly the worst weeks of their lives, they stared at each other helplessly.

"Curt."

"Brian."

They spoke at the same time, the moment both awkward and sweet. "You go first."

Curt's eyes feasted on the sight of Brian. He was *alive* and apparently well, if a bit pale and thin. His earlier outrage faded as suddenly as it had come into being. All at once Curt felt tongue-tied. What could he say? Heard you missed me, I'm back?

"I thought you were dead."

Brian shivered uncontrollably. "Are you glad I'm...*not*?"

Curt closed his eyes for a moment as a blinding wave of pain stabbed through his head. "Yeah. I'm real glad you're not...dead."

Time seemed to stand still. Or some other awful clich. Brian swayed towards Curt, his eyes flickering over his lover's body as if he was committing it to memory. "How have you been?" Now it was Brian's turn to wince. What was Curt supposed to say to that? Actually, my life's turned to shit since I left you, but it's okay now that I know you're not really dead?

One of them had to make the first move. But Brian felt like he was rooted to the spot. He was so damn afraid of fucking things up. "I-"

"I missed you, babe," Curt said quietly, his voice throbbing with subtle undercurrents that Brian couldn't quite read. But the sound of that familiar name on Curt's lips was Brian's undoing.

"Baby..." Brian whispered, his own lips already anticipating Curt's kiss.

Curt's lambent gray eyes filled with tears. "I thought you *loved* me."

"I do."

"Then how could you do that to me?" Curt asked, his expression so heartbroken that Brian realized that things had shifted yet one more time.

"It...it was Shannon, Curt. She-"

"I know what a bitch she is, man. But why didn't *you* call me?"

Brian sighed and struggled to meet Curt's intent gaze. "I...I guess I didn't think you wanted to hear from me. Now that you have Jack and all."

"You think Jack and I are lovers?" Curt exclaimed incredulously.

"Aren't you?"

"I won't dignify that with an answer."

"Wrong again, huh?" Brian sniffed. His feelings for Curt had lost none of their former intensity. If anything, he was more deeply in love than before. Only now it seemed that there would be no heartfelt reunion.

Curt took a step forward and rubbed his lightly stubbled cheek against Brian's. "I loved you, Brian."

"*Loved*? You don't love me anymore?" Brian didn't mean for it to come out the way it did. He sounded like a young boy in the throes of his first crush. But then...his relationship with Curt had always possessed a bit of that quality. Only the infatuation never wore off.

"Brian..." Curt's voice rasped against his face, his breath both sweet and warm, and Brian yearned for Curt's kiss.

"Please, Curt..." Brian murmured.

Curt pressed his mouth to Brian's, and Brian melted bonelessly against Curt's lanky frame. "Give me more," Brian pleaded softly.

"I shouldn't even have given you *this*, " Curt replied sadly.

"You can't find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Dammit, Brian-"

"I gave it up for *you*, Curt."

"Too late, babe. All you had to do was ask me to stay. Do you know what it took to walk away from you, Brian?" Once again, Curt's voice pulsated with a pain that Brian was growing accustomed to hearing.

Brian reached for his cigarettes and fumbled getting one out of the pack.

"Brian, if you light that cigarette, you'll never fucking see me again. I mean it."

"I don't know what you want from me, Curt," Brian whispered.

"Ah, but you see...that's the problem."

"Stop being cryptic, Curt. We *love* each other. Why can't we work this out?"

"You *found* me, Brian. But you've never really been sure you want to *keep* me."

"That's not true," Brian choked out.

Curt stepped back again, frustrating Brian's desire to take him in his arms. "All I wanted a month ago was...for you to tell me to stay."

"I-"

"You could have told Jerry to go fuck himself, babe. That's all you had to do. But instead you had to spit shine your fucking image at my expense. And this? This whole fucking drama doesn't do shit for me, Bri." Curt looked as though a strong wind would blow him right over the edge.

"Cause you know why? I wasn't fucking in on it. I never was, babe. And I just can't do that anymore," Curt finished huskily.

Brian closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was to walk away from Curt, his movements awkward and out of synch. A warning bell went off in Curt's brain. "Brian?"

Brian glared at his former lover with wounded blue eyes and entered the bathroom, slamming the door shut between the two of them.

Acting on some kind of sixth sense, Curt rattled the doorknob and found it locked. "Brian! Let me in!"

Brian pressed his back against the door and slumped to the floor. "Not this time, Curt," he said in a curiously disembodied voice.

Curt began pounding on the door, battering it with his fists. He didn't know why he was so worried, but suddenly it was imperative that he see Brian. "Don't fucking do this, Brian."

Curt was right. He was much better off without Brian.

"Let me in, dammit!"

"Let me in? Please?"

"Brian, I love you." Now Curt was crying and shouting and whispering all at the same time. "I love you, dammit, doesn't that fucking mean anything to you?"

"Let...me...in!!!"

When there was no response, Curt's legs gave way and he found himself sitting on the floor, his back against the door. Banging his head against the door, he wrapped his arms protectively around himself. "I love you, Brian. Please...please...let me in."

On the other side of the door, Brian drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his hands. Listening to Curt sob was breaking his heart all over again. He was right the first time. He didn't have any idea how to fix this.

Maybe he never should have tried.

Maybe Curt could find it in his heart to forgive him.

Someday.

Maybe.

End