Brian parked the car in front of Michael's store and walked to the passenger side door.  The street was quiet since it was very early in the morning and Liberty Avenue didn't really start to wake up before 3:00.  He often wondered why Michael didn't wait to open the shop till 2:00, but he knew there was always inventory to unpack and other duties that couldn't be completed when the clientele started coming into the shop.  Michael seemed content and the shop was making money, especially with Rage figures and specialty items. 

As they walked to the door, Justin looked at the life size Rage cutout in the front window.  Justin immediately saw the resemblance between Brian and the cut out and then a flood of memories hit him.  Brian was Rage. He saw himself and Michael working on drawings in Brian's loft and then saw the two of them in bed, exhaustion finally winning over their need for sleep.  He remembered the Rage Party where he and Michael were the guests of honor, but then he saw Brian fucking a guy, his Rage mask firmly in place.  He saw himself as he walked out of Babylon with another guy.

Stopping short, he looked at Brian.  "That's Rage?  You're Rage?"

"Got it in one," Brian said flippantly, looking at Justin for more memories to come back, he cautiously waited for his reaction.

A frown developed on Justin's mouth as he said, "Ethan."  Justin saw Brian wince at the fiddler's name; he knew he was remembering events of the past.  Visions of a small apartment with few furnishings and Ethan playing the violin ran through Justin's mind.  "I lived with him?" he asked as he saw his sketch pad and pencils on a bed in the middle of a room.

"Justin...." Brian started to answer.

Eyeing a bench on the side of the street, Justin walked to it and sat down, putting his head in his hands.  Making his way to Justin, Brian sat down next to his partner and stroked his back with his hand. 

"You're here."  Justin said as both a statement and a question.

"Yes."

"You wouldn't talk to me.  I wanted to talk about the bashing and my feelings?"

Justin sat up and looked at Brian, seeing the pain in his eyes at Justin's questions.  "You fucked Rage and I left?"

"Yes."

"Brian, did we ever talk about that time?"

"Not really, other than to tell you that you were never to play violin music in my presence."

"I was never to play violin music in your presence," Justin said in unison with Brian.

Brian smiled for the first time this morning as Justin remembered the quote from their reunion.

"Can we talk now?"

The smiled quickly faded to a slight grimace.  Before he could sensor his words, he said, "Do we really need to talk about all that shit now?"

Justin bristled at Brian's angry words, especially after their talk this morning.  He was hurt by the obvious anger. Needing to get away from the situation he turned and started running  toward the next block.  Brian watched as he quickly ran out of steam a few minutes later.  <i>Damn, things have really changed.  I'm going to go get him. <i/>Brian walked toward Justin who had stopped and found another bench to sit on as he caught his breath.

"Some things don't change.  You still don't like it when things don't go your way," Brian said as he watched Justin heave as his chest tried to draw in the necessary air from his jaunt.

Waiting till his breath was more even, Justin continued to look at the ground instead of directing his comments toward Brian. "Brian.  Obviously we have a long history and the fact that you're still here means something.  The Brian Kinney I knew after Prom was a pompous ass at times and never did anything he didn't want to do and never broke his promise.  Are you still that Brian Kinney or has that changed too?"  Justin turned toward Brian as he sat next to him, acting as if his recent behavior was nothing to address.

"Still the same asshole.  Ask anyone.  I'm still a cruel heartless bastard, except when it comes to you and Gus."  Brian said and then regretted his words immediately as he acknowledged Justin's importance in his life; but fuck, it was killing him not to tell Justin something of what they actually did mean to each other now.

"So, I'm important to you?"

"Yeah.  Very." Brian said as he smiled.

Seeing the smile, Justin thought about his earlier memory. "That's why you're still here?" Justin asked and hoped that Brian would give him this piece of the puzzle.  Justin reached out to touch Brian's hand, the first time he'd done that since his accident and found the touch comforting.

The electricity from his lover's touch was not lost on Brian and his body craved more, but he wasn't going to push the reunion.  There had always been a physical reaction between the two men and he was slightly surprised that he was able to tamper the connection and not throw his lover on the nearest surface to fuck him to the wall.

Brian hated all this talk, but he'd told Daphne that he'd do whatever it took; therefore he answered Justin, not diverting the question with his usual answer, a kiss or quick fuck.  "Yes.  Got it in one.  Told you that you were smart."

<i>I'm important to Brian and he cares for me.<i/>  "When did I stop seeing Ethan?"

"What do you remember?"  Brian would have been willing to spend the entire day bringing Justin up to speed, but he didn't think that was a good idea.  He caressed Justin's hand and then massaged it some more.

"I don't remember," Justin said after a few moments of thinking. He was enjoying Brian's touch, realizing that his hand was starting to uncramp.

Brian rejoiced at the words.  <i>Justin didn't remember the fiddlefuck.  There were some advantages to this amnesia thing after all.<i/>  Before he could really absorb the thought, Justin continued his relentless questioning.

 "I know I'm not with him anymore.  Brian, will you answer one question for me?"  Justin asked, hoping Brian would be his honest self.

Brian hesitated before he answered.  <i>What if he asks about us?  What should I tell him?  Should I be truthful?  He appears to trust me, but will answering him about our relationship harm him?  Fuck! Justin why the hell were you in that restaurant dancing for fucking birthday parties?  If you had been where you were supposed to be this would not have happened. He's going to figure it out sooner or later- the gang is going to say something and he's a smart fucker.  I better be the one to answer him.  Doesn't change the fact that his memories are gone, but maybe we can work on that together.  I so wish that Justin came with an owner's manual.<i/>

"Yes.  But Justin, think about the consequences.  Do you really want to know the answer?"

"I want to know so that I can move on with my life.  Brian, I remember we fucked a lot when I was in high school and seeing the Rage cutout... I remember going to live with Ethan.  I don't remember leaving him, but I know that I had to or you wouldn't be here.  Am I right so far?"

Brian nodded his head, wishing he could use that as Justin's one question, but he knew he couldn't do that to him.

"Brian did I go back to live with you after I left Ethan?" Justin asked, the hesitancy obvious.

"Not exactly.  You went to live with Daphne, but we spent a lot of time together." Brian answered honestly. 

A silent tear ran down Justin's face as he looked at Brian.  "It's like you're telling me a story about someone else.  Thank you for giving me an honest answer; I just wish I could remember."

Brian felt for Justin.  Having the information was only half the battle; he needed to remember so he could have the feelings that were associated with the events.

"Give it time.  You're remembering a lot more than a few days ago."

Justin looked eagerly at Brian, smiling a little at his attempt to comfort him. "It appears that I have all the time in the world.  Is there somewhere I need to be?"

"No.  Let's go see Mikey.  I think he caught a glimpse of you running in front of his shop.  He's probably thinking you're mad at him."  Brian teased, hoping to spark a memory for Justin, but Justin just smiled.

Brian stood up from the park bench and pulled Justin's arm to help him to a stand.  They walked toward the Comic shop; one hoping that the shop would bring back memories and the other fearing the memories that might be trigged.

The bell jingled as the door opened and Michael came out from the back area.  Walking up to Justin, he reached out to hug him and Justin allowed the hug but did not embrace him fully.  "Justin, do you know who I am?"  Michael asked at the cool greeting.

"Sure.  Ask Brian. I told him I didn't want to stay inside all day and asked if you still had your comic shop."

"So you remember the shop?" Michael asked as he swung his arm in an arc to encompass the store.

Justin's eyes flitted over the small shop, looking for familiar objects but didn't recognize anything but the front display case.  "Sorry.  Not really.  I saw the cut out of Rage in the window though.  That's cool.  Did we write more than one issue?"

"Yeah.  We've been putting out one issue every two months since you moved to New York," Michael answered eagerly. 

Leaning against the glass display case he swallowed hard at the information.  "So we have how many?"

"You've been gone three years so about 18 issues.  Isn't that right, Brian? The last issue about the go-go dancer sold really well." Michael beamed at Justin, proud of what they had accomplished in a short period of time.

Looking for the nearest chair, Justin saw the stool behind the counter and made an immediate beeline for it.  <i>Michael just told me that I live in New York.  What the fuck?  Why would I live in New York if Brian and I are a couple?  This makes no sense. <i/>

"I've lived in New York for three years.  I don't remember, " Justin said, hoping that his words would trigger a memory for him, but disappointed when they didn't.

"After the prom, Daphne told me all about the dance and Brian dancing with me but it took a really long time before I remembered the events.  I remember you taking me to the garage and even trying to play that stupid song in your Loft...."  Justin was quiet as he saw them in the Loft. 

Looking at Brian, he said, "You tried to help me remember.  You have that same look in your eyes this time.  You're sad that I don't remember.  I'm sorry."  Justin looked down on the floor, not wanting to see the hurt in Brian's eyes.  "Brian can you take me home?  I have a headache and I want to take some medicine."

Brian was furious with Michael for mentioning New York and he'd forgotten the go-go dancer in the last issue.  Rage usually mirrored parts of his and Justin's life and he mentally kicked himself that he didn't see signs before he came to New York.  He could have confronted Justin about his dancing and they would have avoided this whole debacle.  "Sure.  You've had a lot of stuff thrown at you this morning."  Turning toward Michael, Brian started to say something but changed his mind.  He wasn't in the mood to have another discussion; he'd had too many and it wasn't even noon.

They walked to the car and Justin looked at Liberty Avenue, taking in the sights and sounds that were unique to the area.  Small street vendors were setting up their kiosks and he stopped to look at one where jewelry was sold.  Eyeing a small bracelet, he looked at his wrist, expecting it to be there, but was surprised when it wasn't.

"Lose something?" Brian asked as he watched Justin.

"I don't think so.  I remember these bracelets that Daphne and I bought.  They were friendship bracelets and we picked them up at this kiosk."  He looked around and saw the intersection behind the stall.  "That's where I met Mel and Linds the second time.  They'd been shopping and I offered to take their packages to their car.  Then they took me home and I drew Lindsey and Gus." Justin listened to his words ‘I drew Lindsey and Gus' and something niggled at his brain, but it was just a little too far to grasp.

"I remember that day.  I came over to see Gus and there you were drawing in their living room.  Lindsay told you what a great talent you had and encouraged you to be in the GLC show."  Brian realized what he said after the words came out.  <i>And here I was worried about one of the gang letting stuff slip.  Justin hasn't said a word about his art. Shit!<i/>

Justin stopped short of stepping into the street. "My mom came to the show."

"She did."

Justin pinched his nose, the pain from his headache starting to throb.  "I need to lay down."

"Let's go."  Brian lead Justin to the car and without thinking drove to the Loft.  When they arrived, he looked at his partner, the pain obvious on his face.  <i>Screw the docs.  Maybe the Loft will spark some memories for him.<i/> "Come on, let's get you a drink and you can lie down.  Did you bring any of your pills with you?"

"In my pocket.  You always said I was a Boy Scout."

Brian motioned for Justin to lie on the couch and he went to the kitchen to get him some water.  Bringing the water back, he gave the glass to Justin and Justin took a pill.  Closing his eyes, he welcomed the dark and quiet.  His brain really did hurt.  Brian grabbed a light blanket from the closet and draped it over Justin.  Sitting on the chair he watched as Justin's chest moved up and down in an even pattern. 

<i>I wish I could make it all go away for him; be his prince charming and kiss it away- like those silly story books that Gus reads.  No wonder his head hurts; he's been pushing his memories all morning and trying to fit six years of living into 3 hours.  My head would hurt too.  He remembered sketching Gus and Lindsay- I wonder if that means he'll remember his art.  It kills me to think he thought he was a damn waiter. 

I miss his touch.  So close, in my Loft, but not in our bed.  It lies empty, waiting for his alabaster skin to lie on the dark sheets as I caress, kiss, and then fuck him into tomorrow.  His moans, grunts and demands as our bodies entwine with each other. The talks we have as we enjoy a post coital respite. Maybe when he awakens- maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, next month, whenever- I will wait.<i/>

TBC