I let the brush paint a long blue stroke across the wall. It’s going to be a beautiful mural. He told me he didn’t mind if I did this as long as it was in my studio and not the bedroom or the living room. It’s been 5 years together and I still get butterflies in my stomach when I think about him. His voice, his body, and the way his arms feel around my waist as he kisses my neck.

I’m a real artist now. And he says he has never been so proud of me. I smile and laugh as the mural comes to life in front of me. Blues, yellows and reds make up the images and feeling I am trying to relay onto the sheetrock canvas in front of me.

He is going to love it. I wonder where he is. He is working pretty late today. He’s normally not this late. But it doesn’t matter. It gives me more time to finish it before he gets home.

Brian’s POV

“Brian…” I feel a hand on my arm and I am jerked out of my trance. Jennifer, still as beautiful as the first day I met her, stands next to me. She looks so tired. I know the feeling.

“How is he today?” She asks, looking through the grated window. Where we can see him, but he can’t see us. A form of protection.

What fucking bullshit.

“He’s been scribbling on his walls with those crayons for hours.” God I wish I could have a cigarette. Who made up the fucking rule anyway that you couldn’t smoke in a mental hospital?

She watches him now, his mop of blonde hair bouncing as he frantically scribbles on his white walls. My chest aches and I have to turn away.

“Brian, it’s been four years.”

“I don’t care.”

“You really should…”

I turn around and narrow my eyes at her. “What? Move on? Stop coming here?”

“You don’t even SEE him! You just stare at him through this window all day!”

“He has no idea who I am!” I yell at her.

“You don’t know that! He knows there was someone. He said….”

“No. Just…no.”

I walk back to the window and stare in at him. I have my reasons for not seeing him. Justin doesn’t even know who HE is, let alone his mother. It took two years just to convince him Jennifer WAS his mother.

He has no memory of anything. And as sad as it is to acknowledge, Justin is now over the rainbow, toys in the attic, crazy.

Dementia.

The only thing that even glimmers of what he used to be is that he is convinced he is a famous artist. And he lives in a huge mansion with…someone. A man he tells his mother.

Well, at least the little shit remembers he’s gay.

Jennifer is convinced this man is me.

Even if it is, what’s the point of enabling his fantasy? It could make it worse. He may think I am taking him home to this mansion.

Fuck what an imagination he has.

He says he and this man are married.

I snort and Jennifer looks at me.

“It’s you, Brian. Who else could it be?”

I shrug. “It will only make it worse.”

She turns to me and takes my hand. I don’t look at her. I just keep staring at him.

“Then you need to let go, Brian. Let him go.”

My eyes finally meet hers and I feel myself start to lose it.

I shift my eyes back to the blonde haired, blue-eyed mess behind the locked metal doors. The now 22-year-old man who spends his days locked in that room, with only his imagination and crayons.

A…once amazing, vibrant, courageous person, now here…because I couldn’t save him. There was nothing I could do.

So move on? Let him go?

“Never.” I mumble. “Never.”

Justin’s POV

Is it true what I heard about the Son of God?
Did he come to save? Did he come at all?

“It’s beautiful, Sunshine.” He tells me as he wraps his arms around me from behind.

“Yeah? I used orange and blue. I know you love those colors.”

He kisses my neck in that spot that sends goosebumps down my spine. “Mmm. You know me so well.”

Brian’s POV

“Mr. Kinney?”

I’m broken from my daze as I watch Justin talking to himself through the metal bars of his window.

“Yeah?” I turn to find an ashy gray haired man, dressed in a long white lab coat, clutching a clipboard.

“Hi. I’m Doctor Swartz. I’m Justin’s psychiatrist.”

I nod.

“How’s our boy today?” He asks peering into the window.

“He’s talking to himself. But I can’t hear shit through this fucking door.”

“That’s for the patients courtesy. Some of our patients scream all night long. The soundproof rooms help to not cause a disruption.”

“Does he do that?”

He looks at me and smiles a little. “Justin never screams. In fact, he’s the happiest patient we have here.”

That makes me laugh a little. Happy? What a load of shit.

“There’s something I would like to talk to you about, Mr. Kinney.”

“Hmm?” I roll an unlit cigarette in between my fingers.

“Justin spoke of a man yesterday during his therapy session.”

I tense.

“He says he’s his husband.” He continues.

I remain silent.

“It says here in his chart, you’re his boyfriend.”

I wince. “I…” I can’t say was. He’s not dead. But I WASN’T his boyfriend.

“Mr. Kinney?”

“We were…involved.”

“He says his ‘husband’ is a very successful businessman. They live in a mansion and Justin paints all day. He says their mansion has a pool and stables. Do you know of any place like this?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” The Doc watches Justin some more as he feverishly scribbles more pictures on his walls, talking to himself and smiling.

Happy? Sure.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Kinney?”

“I work in advertising.”

“Would you say you’re a successful businessman?”

I whip my head and glare at him.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“His mother believes if Justin is going to remember anyone, it’s going to be you.”

“Oh, is that right? So tell me Doc, what’s this mystery mans name he talks too much about?”

The Doc frowns. “He doesn’t ever say his name.”

“Because he DOESN’T EXIST. He’s some made up character in his little movie that plays in his head over and over again all fucking day long! He doesn’t remember his mother or his sister but you think he remembers ME?”

“Yes. In a way I think he does.”

“Bullshit. Why the FUCK would he remember me?”

“Because he loves you.”

I wince.

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You love him.”

“I don’t believe in love.” That was the truth. How could I? Even if that one tiny moment as I whisked him around the dance floor and watched his blue eyes sparkle and that Sunshine smile radiate throughout the room, I almost did believe in it, I sure as hell don’t now.

“I want to try an experiment.”

“What shock therapy? Leave him the fuck alone.” I growl.

“No. I want to set up a session. An interaction. Between the both of you.”

“No fucking way.”

“Mr. Kinney, I think it would help him. And even if he doesn’t remember you, what harm could it do?”

What harm could it do?

I turn my head slowly and look at him. I know my face is holding every emotion I don’t want to show.

“Because if he doesn’t remember me, and I have to be that close to him and he looks at me like a total stranger, you might as well get me a fucking padded room in here too, Doc.”

l get home and meet my friends at our favorite bar.
We'll get some lighter heads for our heavy hearts.
And we will share a drink.
Yeah we will share our fears and they will know how I love them.

***

“I think you should do it.” Mikey bites into his slice of heart attack in pizza form, and nods as he chews.

I throw my piece down back onto my plate and push it away.

“Brian…”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

He sighs and scoots closer to me on the rug. He lays his head on my shoulder and takes my hand in his.

“It’s the only way, you know.”

“The only way for what?”

“To move on.”

I tense and he feels it, squeezing my hand tighter.

“If he does remember you, then you can possibly be in his life. Maybe not the way a normal relationship works, but at least you will have him back in a way. Not just through a fucking door in a hospital.”

“And if he doesn’t remember?” My voice is shaky and I curse Mikey silently for being able to somehow let me be myself around him.

“Then…you can maybe finally have some closure. It’s been four years, Brian. If he doesn’t remember, he probably never will. But at least you will finally know. For sure.”

I feel the wetness form behind my eyes and I squeeze them shut, wishing them away.

“I know you love him. We all know you love him. We knew…before you did. And we all love him. And we also all love you. We just want what’s best for you. Both.”

The tears finally spill over and down my cheeks and before I have a chance his hand is wiping them away as fast as they can come down. I cling to him and he wraps his arms around me strongly. It’s weird. Michael is so small but his hugs are like super hero hugs. Guess I should have known.

And I cry. I cry into his shoulder while he hugs me for how long I’m not sure. I cry for Justin. I cry for what he’s been through and what he will continue to go through. I cry for us and what could have been. And I cry for what I did to him. How none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me.

“You didn’t do this to him.”

I hate him for that. I hate how he can read my fucking mind.

His words just make me cry harder.

“You didn’t. That asshole did. And this is gonna work out, okay? I know it.”

I can’t speak. I can’t disagree or agree. So I just cry. And my best friend holds me.

***

“So I’m going to be bringing Justin in for our therapy session just like any other Wednesday.” Dr. Swartz begins. “And all I want you to do is sit there.”

“Just fucking sit here? What the hell is that going to accomplish?”

“We can’t just bombard Justin with something like this. It’s like approaching a wild animal. I just would like you to sit there and remain quiet and see how Justin reacts around you. Whether he ignores you or if he does realize who you are.”

“This is so stupid.” I mumble.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. He may have no idea who you are and I can pass you off as anyone on the staff. I don’t feel it would be in Justin’s best interest, if he doesn’t remember you, to try to explain who you are right now.”

“And…” I swallow hard, “…if he does know who I am?”

“We will take it from there.”

I nod.

“Are you ready, Mr. Kinney?”

I nod again.

Dr. Swartz walks out of the room, leaving the door ajar. I need a cigarette so bad my hands are shaking. Or maybe they are shaking for other reasons.

I hear a shuffle down the hall and I hear Justin’s familiar and cheerful voice. I can make out a few words here and there.

More paints.

Almost done.

Lunch.

And then I see him. His blond hair falling against his forehead in yellow whips. His bright blue eyes peeking out from long eye lashes. His clothes, baggy against his frail frame, still making him look so adorable. I hadn’t been this close to him in four years. We are usually separated by a large metal door and glass.

And his mind.

Dr. Swartz walks in behind him and motions for his usual seat, but Justin stands perfectly still in the doorway. He won’t take his eyes off me. I don’t move. The doc told me no sudden movements. Wait for Justin to make his move.

He cocks his head to the side. I can’t read his expression. It’s been too long. I can’t read them anymore.

My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I am sure they can hear it.

He blinks a few times and then he finally speaks.

“What are you doing here?”

They say they don't know when but a day is gonna come, when there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun. It will just go black; it'll all go back, to the way it was before.

“What are you doing here?”

I stop breathing. Literally. I don't blink. Or take a breath. Or move.

I'm literally frozen where I sit. His blue eyes bore into me, and I stare back mesmerized by him.

I see the Doc motion in the distance for me to stand. It takes me a while but I finally do, shaky on my own feet.

Justin and I continue without staring contest, and when I can finally hear again instead of the dense deafness I had for what seemed like hours, I finally open my mouth.

“I’m here to see you.”

And then I wait. I wait for a glimmer of anything in his eyes. A movement. Anything.

Suddenly his lips form into a smile and I had forgotten how fucking beautiful it was. He moves swiftly towards me and I tense as he throws his arms around me, crushing me even with his small frame.

I look at the Doc helplessly, not knowing what to do. Even HE looks surprised and he makes a motion with his hands to touch Justin back.

And so I do. I wrap my arms around him and hug him so hard that I literally lift him up off the ground. A small giggle escapes his throat and his feet dangle in the air and I bury my face into his long hair. I feel tears form in my eyes and I swallow down the chokes that want to escape.

I finally set him down back on his feet and slowly pull back from him. I search his eyes for a glimpse of the Justin I used to know. I gasp when he presses his lips to mine and I tense briefly. His lips are so fucking warm and soft and I get flashes of memories through my head and he entangled his fingers in the back of my hair.

Memories of him laid out underneath me in my bed. His smiles and laughter filling the loft as I tickle and spank him across my lap as we smoke and drink. And the kisses. These type of kisses that I could never admit back then, made my knees weak.

I open my mouth slowly and his tongue slides on top of mine. I can’t help it and I moan, tightening my grip on his waist. When the kiss finally ends, his face is flushed and his perfect lips are now red and swollen.

And he’s smiling. Fucking Christ, he’s smiling.

“Where have you been?” He asks as he nuzzles my neck. I realize I’m shaking and I close my eyes to keep from showing the pure emotion in my eyes.

I can’t answer him. I don’t know HOW to answer him.

“The mural is almost done.” He purrs against my skin. “But you can't see it until it's done,” he giggles.

I pull back and look down at him. He’s still smiling.

“What mural?” I ask.

He frowns.

Fuck. Wrong thing to ask.

“The one in my studio. The one I’ve been working on for weeks. I get a little bit done every day. The bedroom is next.” He holds me closer again and rests his head against my chest.

I look at the Doc for help.

“Justin, do you know this man’s name?” Dr. Swartz asks.

Justin turns around and smirks. “Of course I do.”

He sits in the chair next to mine, pulling it closer. I sit down gently, never taking my eyes off him.

“You must have been working a lot, huh? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” He says softly.

I look at the Doc and he nods, sitting in a chair across from us.

“Uh, yeah Sunshine. Works been very busy. But, I’m here now.” I brush his hair back from his forehead. He smiles.

“Justin, can you tell me your husband’s name?” The Doc asks gently.

Justin looks at me, cocks his head and then wrinkles his brow.

Fuck, he doesn’t know. Oh god. He doesn’t know.

He looks at Dr. Swartz and sighs heavily. “You do this all the time. You think I don’t know what I know I know.” He babbles.

“I know you know, Justin. But I want you to tell me anyway.”

He slumps down in his chair and picks at the skin around his fingernails.

“I’m not crazy.”

“I never said you were, Justin. I just asked you a question.”

He looks up at him and then at me and he has tears in his eyes. I want to reach out to him, hold him, kiss him again, but I’m not sure if I’m allowed or supposed to.

“I-“ he swallows, a single tear running down his pale cheek. “I don’t know his name. But I know him! I swear!” He screams.

“Justin-“ The Doc and I both begin to say.

“No!” He stands and starts to pace, grabbing at his hair and mumbling. “He’s my husband. We live in this huge mansion with stables and a pool and I paint all day while he works. I’m an artist.” He stops pacing and glares at the Doc. “Do YOU HEAR ME? I’m an ARTIST. A FAMOUS ARTIST!”

I want to touch him so badly. I reach out but the Doc shoots me a warning look. I slowly inch my arm back.

“Justin, I need you to sit down. No one is here to attack you.”

“YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME!” He yells.

“I believe you believe that.”

“NO!” He turns and looks at me. “Tell him! You know the truth, TELL HIM!”

I’m shaking so hard and I can barely catch my breath. I look at Dr. Swartz for some direction.

“Justin, do you know where you are?” Dr. Swartz asks.

Justin puts his hands down back at his sides, and winces, closing his eyes.

He stands like that for a very long time before finally opening his eyes back up, a blank and distant look in his eyes.

“No.” He finally answers.

And now I have read some books and have grown quite brave.
If I could just speak up I think I would say that there is no truth.
There is only you and what you make the truth.

***

“You think I’m crazy,” he says, his head tucked into my shoulder. It still fits there so naturally, like four haven’t passed at all.

“No. I don’t.” I pet his head, his silky strands of hair flowing through my fingers.

Dr. Swartz had just explained to him that he was in Allegheny Psychiatric Hospital. That he had been here for the last four years. And that I, Brian Kinney, was not his husband. We didn’t live in a mansion. He wasn’t a famous artist. All the murals and paintings he thinks he’s painted…were just crayon drawings on the walls of his room.

He begged me to tell the Doc none of this was true. That I remember the house. Our wedding. And when he looked down at my hand, his cheeks tear stained when he didn’t see a wedding band on my finger, he fell to his knees in a heap screaming.

Now, we are lying in his bed in his room. He’s clinging to me for dear life. He keeps chanting over and over again that he knows me. That he knows who I am. He remembers everything.

“What is the last thing you remember, Justin?”

He lets out a long sigh, wiping his nose on my shirt. “I…don’t know.”

“I don’t mean the mansion or anything like that. I mean…before that. Of me.”

He pulls back a little and squints his eyes, trying to remember.

“I can't…pinpoint one thing. I just know…I know you. I’m not wrong am I? I mean…we…”

“Yes. Before you were hurt, we were…we knew each other. Very well.”

“And now?” He buries his face into my chest. I close my eyes so I don’t cry. He doesn’t need that right now.

“Now…I’m just trying to get you back.”

He sobs, soaking my shirt and I welcome it. I wrap my arms around him and watch the Doc and Jennifer through the tiny grated window outside the door. I know this isn't normally allowed. This much patient/visitor interaction. But Dr. Swartz thinks it might be best for Justin right now to have something or someone familiar to him after having all that truth told to him.

I hold him, petting his head until his breathing settles and his sobs stop. I don’t want to leave. I want to hold onto him for dear life. I could stay like this forever and be happy. But I know I can't. I know I need to leave and let Justin deal with himself inside his own head.

I gently pull away from him and rest him gently on his side of the bed. I pull the covers over him and kiss his forehead gently. And I tell him I love him.

***

Jennifer hugs me as soon as I get out of his room.

“Oh, Brian…”

I hug her back with one arm and give the Doc a pleading look.

“What the fuck do I do now?”

“We will take it one step at a time. The fact that he remembers you Brian, even your face is a huge thing. If we can get inside his mind, get him to open some more doors that he’s locked behind, maybe more things will filter through that he remembers.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Meds, maybe. Therapy. Maybe even hypnosis.”

I lean against the wall and put an unlit cigarette behind my ear.

“I want you to keep coming to see him. As often as you want.”

I nod. “Of course.”

He rests his hand on my shoulder. “This is a good thing, Mr. Kinney. Trust me. We’re gonna get there.” He heads down the hallway and I lean my head back against the wall.

“Brian…” Jennifer begins.

I don’t answer.

“I told you.”

I snort.

“I told you it was you.”

I lift my head and give her a look, shaking my head.

“Why don’t you hate me?” I ask her.

She blinks a few times. “What?”

“You should hate me. This is all my fault! If I hadn't…” I swallow hard. “…he wouldn’t even be here.”

She sighs heavily. “For a long time I did blame you, Brian. I needed someone to blame and you were the best scapegoat for me. I then even started to blame myself, as crazy as that sounds. But after a while I realized this isn't your fault, or mine, or even his father's. It's that monsters.”

I turn around and watch Justin sleep through the window. God he looks so beautiful.

“This is gonna work, Brian. We’re gonna get him back.”

“I don’t deserve him back.”

She rests her head against my arm and chuckles.

“You deserve him more than you will ever know. And he deserves you too.”

And now I don't know why,
but I still try to smile when they talk at me like I'm just a child.
Well, I'm not a child.
No, I am much younger than that.

***

We shouldn’t be doing this.

But Justin is so soft and god he feels so good.

His lips, swollen and hot against my own. His tongue gently lapping at mine. His cock hard and eager pressed against mine through denim.

This isn’t right. We should be taking it slow. But Justin just practically attacked me as soon as he walked into his room. Begging me to touch him. I’d never been able to resist him and no matter how sick Justin is, this is what we do best. How we communicate. How I always used to tell him how much I cared about him.

He goes for the button on my jeans and shoves his hand down them, cupping my hard on in his hand. He moans, and jerks me roughly.

“Justin…” More wet sloppy kisses and hard jerking.

“Justin…stop.”

He pulls back, panting, lips wet and face flushed. “W-Why?”

“We can't…”

He pouts. “WHY?”

I sigh heavily and roll onto my back, looking up, trying to think of ANYTHING to get my dick to go soft. He unzips my jeans and Jesus FUCK he needs to stop that.

I grab his hand and he pulls away. “You don’t want to?”

I groan. “Of course I WANT TO. But we CAN’T. Not…here.”

“We’re alone! No one…”

“This isn’t PRISON Justin. We don’t get conjugal visits!”

“No one is gonna care!”

“Oh, yes they will.” I climb off the bed and start pacing.

The Kentucky derby.

My mother.

Puppies.

Pussy.

Nope. Still hard.

God Dammit.

“Dr. Swartz didn’t say we COULDN’T.”

And right then I am reminded of how young he still really is.

“Justin.” I say sternly.

He pouts more and rolls away from you.

“Justin.” I sit on the side of his bed and touch his shoulder. “We need to take this slow…you don’t even remember...”

“Yes I do.”

“Then tell me. Tell me what you remember.”

He rolls over, looking over his shoulder at me. He blinks.

“You.”

“You didn’t even know my name.”

He frowns.

“SO?”

“So? I think that’s a big deal.”

“No! It isn’t. THIS IS.” He motions between us. “The way this feels. The way it’s so natural between us. That’s what matters! Not some stupid locked up memories in my head!” He hits the side of his head where his scar is and I GRAB his wrist.

“Don’t do that. Ever.” I practically growl the words.

“O-Okay.”

I sigh and lay down on the bed. He snuggles up next to me immediately.

“I was talking to the Doc.” I tell him.

“Mmm?” He’s drawing soft circles on my chest over my t-shirt.

“I told him I think it might do some good if you left the ward.”

He sits up, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. “REALLY???”

“Yeah.” I can’t help but smile at him. “Maybe seeing some familiar things will help jog your memory. But nothing too crazy. Just your Mom’s house. Deb’s house. The diner. The loft.”

He nods, his nose crinkling. “That’s where we lived, right?”

“I…well…you didn’t really LIVE there. You were just there. A lot. You lived with Debbie.”

“Oh.”

I touch his face. “You don’t remember.”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“You will, Sunshine.”

He SNAPS his head up and LOOKS at me.

“W-What did you call me?”

I tense. “S-Sunshine?”

He starts to breathe harder and grabs at his hair, wincing.

“What? What is it?” I sit up and put my hand around the back of his neck.

He keeps wincing and grabbing at his hair. He’s freaking me out and I go to get off the bed to get the Doc or one of the nurses.

He grabs my arm and looks up at me, face red, eyes wide.

“Sunshine.” He repeats.

I nod.

“That’s…what people call me.”

I start to breath heavier. “That’s right.”

He looks at me, tears forming in his eyes. “I remember.”

So I will just sing my songs and I'll pass a hat
Then I'll leave your town and I'll never look back
No I don't look back
Because the road is clear
Layed out ahead of me.

***

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask him. He’s been holding my hand so tightly the entire way here; I have no feeling left in it.

He nods, biting the thumbnail on his other hand. Some things never change.

“If it gets to be too much, you tell me immediately okay? Sometimes…they can be too much to take.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I need to do this. I want to do this. I want to remember.”

He’s so fucking brave it kills me.

“Okay then. Let’s go.” I get out of the Jeep and go around to his side. I open the door for him and he falls out into my arms, his hands around the back of my neck and he kisses me.

It’s a desperate kiss filled with love and fear. And thanks.

I rest my forehead against his when the kiss finally ends, and he nuzzles his nose against mine.

“I love you.” He tells me.

I tense and grip his hips tightly.

“You…don’t have to say it back.”

I swallow.

I know I do. Why cant I fucking say it when he’s awake?

“Come on. They’re all waiting for you.” I take his hand and pull him toward Debbie’s front door.

He wraps both hands around my one and I open her front door slowly. I hear the loud chatter slowly dissipate when they realize it’s probably us.

Michael is the first person I see. Thank god.

“Hey.” He says softly, embracing me in a short hug. He smiles at Justin. “Hey, Justin.”

Justin eyes him, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. “Michael.”

Mikey’s eyes widen. “You-?”

Justin shakes his head. “You look just how Brian described.”

“Oh.” Michael half smiles and I give him a kiss on his forehead.

We make our way into the rest of the house. Emmett is sitting on the large recliner, a smile on his face, but also a look of terror. Ted sits next to Ben on the couch, trying to act normal, but again, no prevail.

But it's quiet and they are letting Justin take all this in.

Debbie and Jennifer emerge from the kitchen, holding plates full of food.

Justin looks relieved to see another familiar face.

“Mom.” Justin says breaking away from me and walking to his mother. Debbie takes the other plate and Jennifer hugs her son.

“You look so good, Justin.” She squeezes him tightly and Justin rests his head against her shoulder.

“I feel good.” He tells her.

I relax slightly.

Justin pulls away and turns around to face Debbie. I am surprised how quiet she is. But I warned them all. Justin is like a feral animal. Approach with caution.

Justin squints at her, trying to remember. He looks around the house, taking in the 70’s furniture and porcelain figurines.

“I’m sorry I-“ Justin shakes his head, a devastated look on his face.

“It’s okay, Sunshine. All in good time.” Debbie pats the side of his face and he smiles at the nickname.

“Come on, let’s sit down. Eat something.” I put my hand on the small of Justin’s back and lead him toward the couch. Ted and Ben scoot over and Justin sits next to Ted.

“Hello.” Ted says to him. They lock eyes and Justin smirks.

“Ted?”

Ted nods.

“Mmm.” Justin looks at me. “Your descriptions were very accurate.”

“I am in advertising.” I sit next to him and he immediately takes my hand.

“Hi, Justin. I’m Ben.” Ben reaches over Ted and puts his hand out.

Justin looks at me first then shakes Ben’s hand cautiously.

“It’s okay…you didn’t know him before. You’re not expected to remember.” I tell him, rubbing his leg.

Justin nods and then smiles at Ben.

“I’m Michael’s husband.” Ben explains.

Justin beams. “Brian’s mine.”

The entire room gets eerily quiet.

Justin gets a panicked look on his face. “W-What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing honey. Nothing.” Jennifer comes up behind him and pets his head. He slowly relaxes.

Justin scans the room and eyes Emmett. “Hello Emmett.”

Emmett beams. “Hey, Baby.”

The conversation slowly starts. Normal conversation. Gossip, everyday things. Justin gets into it, adding his two cents whenever he feels comfortable enough.

I nudge Michael who is sitting on the arm of the couch next to me. “Where’s Mel and Linds?”

“I don’t know they should be here.” He shrugs. I frown a little. I know they weren’t together anymore, but this was important to me. Especially Lindsay. And they both loved Justin.

Just then the front door opened and I see a familiar head of blonde hair bob inside.

“Oh god, I am so sorry we’re late. Traffic was horrible on the way back from the daycare.” Lindsay says, stepping inside frazzled. Mel is close behind her, her normal bitch face on.

Mel is carrying a now sleeping JR, and Gus is attached to Lindsay’s hand.

She removes Gus’s coat and Justin turns his head around and smiles at the girls.

“Hey, Justin.” Lindsay comes up behind him and touches his shoulder.

“Hello.” He smiles and then looks at Mel. “Hi.”

Mel touches the same shoulder Lindsay’s hand is on and there is a small glimmer of something in Justin’s eyes. He slowly stands to make his way away from the couch.

Gus barrels away from Lindsay and around the couch. “DADDY!” He screams.

He bumps right into Justin’s legs as they meet at the side of the couch.

“Oh, I sorry.” Gus looks up at Justin with his big eyes. Justin stares down at him and a small noise escapes his throat. He starts to shake and Ben stands immediately.

“Justin? You okay?”

Justin starts to breathe harder and stumbles back against Ben. I fly to him and Ben moves out of the way so I can hold him.

“Justin? Justin. Talk to me.” He’s pale white and shaking like a leaf.

Gus’s eyes widen. “Daddy what’s wrong? Is he okay? What did I do?”

“Nothing, sonny boy. Nothing. Justin just doesn’t feel good.” I try and turn Justin’s face to look at me, but he won't budge. He just continues to shake.

He tries to speak but it just comes out in strange squeaks.

“Justin, you need to calm down. Breathe.” I tell him. I pet his head softly and he relaxes slightly in my arms. That always helps.

Justin reaches out and touches the top of Gus’s head. Gus blinks owlishly up at him.

“Gus.” Justin finally says.

And you think I need some discipline, well I’ve had my share…

***

Justin fell asleep on the way to the loft from Debbie’s.

No one made a fuss about him remembering Gus, and Gus took right to him in the last two hours that we stayed. They sat on the floor and colored.

We couldn’t explain how Justin knew who Gus was. Gus wasn’t even a year old when Justin was hurt. And…he was never mentioned in the therapy sessions. No pictures had been shown. But somehow, in Justin’s mind, wherever it was, he knew Gus.

I’m not sure how I felt about that.

***

I woke him gently when we pull up in front of the loft. He yawns and blinks a few times. He gets out of the car and cocks his head looking up at the building. I don’t want to rush him so I don’t ask any questions. We take the elevator up and he comments on how unsafe it seems. I told him he used to love it. He smirks.

As I slide the loft door open, a wave of nostalgia flows through me. It had been over five years ago the first time I brought him here, and now it seems like it all over again.

He steps inside and drops his bag down on the floor. I don’t turn around to look at him because…I just can't right now. It hurts too much.

“You thirsty?” I ask going to the fridge.

“Sure.”

I got out a can of Pepsi and set it down on the counter. I prepared for him coming here.

“You have a nice kitchen.” He says smiling.

My heart breaks and I have to catch my breath, remembering he said those exact words one time before.

He walks to me and pulls the can of soda toward him. He’s silent, and his brow is wrinkled.

“It feels…” He begins.

I run my fingers through his hair, pushing it back. He looks at me with big blue eyes.

“It feels what?” I ask softly.

“Good.” He finally answers.

I smile gently and pull him to me. He wraps his arms around me and rests his head against my chest. I know my heart is racing but he just nuzzles his nose into my shirt.

His cock is hard, I can feel it pressed against my leg, but I ignore it.

Until he starts to hump me like a dog in heat.

“Justin…” I warn.

“Brian...” He whispers and fuck I almost come right there. “Please.” He begs.

I close my eyes and bury my face in the top of his head.

“We shouldn’t…it's too soon.” I tell him.

He whimpers and pulls away from me.

“I’m not BROKEN!” He yells, throwing his arms in the air.

“I know that.”

“THEN WHAT!? I mean…I’m healthy! My body is FINE. I’m 23! My dick still works!” He’s pacing now.

“I’m sure it does, Justin. But…your mind…”

He turns to me and glares. “My mind? The mind that only remembers YOU? And now I’m here, with YOU and all I want is for you to touch me.”

“I want to touch you too.” I tell him quietly.

He walks to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looks up at me. I don’t look down. I can't.

“Then do it. Touch me. Please.”

I’m shaking now and god dammit how does he do this to me? We shouldn’t do this. It isn’t right. He isn’t well. How do I know that if I fuck him it won't mess him up even more? I can’t take that chance. I just…can't.

“No.” I finally tell him.

He yanks away from me and stomps over to the couch.

“Fine. I’ll sleep on the couch then.” He lays down, curling up in the fetal position.

I walk to him slowly. “Don’t. Come on. Sleep in the bed.”

“Get away from me.”

My chest aches a little. “Justin.”

“GO AWAY!”

I do as he asks, coming back only once to put a blanket over him. He’s hurt. I get that. I am too.

But I’m doing the right thing. We can’t rush this. As much as I want to be inside him, taste him, consume him…I just…can't.

***

Hours later after many failed attempts of trying to sleep, I feel the bed dip slightly and the blankets move as he crawls in bed with me.

His hand touches my shoulder gently. I sigh.

“I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“No. It’s okay. I understand.”

“Do you?”

I roll over and look at him in the darkness. He’s been crying.

“I’m trying.” I tell him.

He shakes his head a little. “You don’t understand. Everywhere I look, everyone I see…I remember nothing. My own mother…I don’t remember a goddamn thing about her. Or my childhood. Nothing. But…I look at you…and I feel safe. And I remember things…some true…some not. And Gus…”

I nod. “That I can honestly say I don’t understand.”

He bites his lower lip and lets out a huge sigh. “In my…fantasy. The world I made for myself in my head as Dr. Swartz says, Gus is…ours. He lives with us in the house.”

I just stare at him.

“I don’t know why I remember him, Brian. But I know why I remember you.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Yeah. Because…you love me.”

I say nothing, just staring at him. “A lot of people love you Justin.”

There. I didn’t deny it. But I didn’t say it out loud.

“Not like you do.”

The air between us suddenly changes. I see the want and need in his eyes. The desperation for something…real.

I’m sure my eyes mirror his.

Without any more hesitation I pull him to me, probably more roughly than I should have, and kiss him. I devour his mouth, sucking on his tongue and licking every inch of the inside of his mouth.

He moans and whimpers and wraps his arms around me as I roll him onto his back and slide my hands up his shirt. His skin is warm and soft and fuck I missed this. I missed the way he felt underneath me. His smell…innocent…but experienced. He was. I had taught him everything.

He clutches at my arms, running his fingers softly down my biceps and I moan into his mouth. He nibbles my lower lip and dry humps my crotch.

He breaks our make out session and looks up at me. He touches the side of my face and runs his thumb over my now swollen lip. Fuck. He’s almost too beautiful to even look at.

“I want you inside me.” He whispers.

And if I dried his feet,
with my dirty hair,
would he make me clean again?

***

“I want you inside me.”

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his. I feel so…full right now. I can't breath. I can’t think. All I can do is feel him.

He’s breathing hard; I feel his warmth covering me. His hands on my arms. His skin touching mine. It’s all too much.

I can’t handle it. I literally cannot take how this feels. And when I feel the wetness form in the corners of my eyes, my whole body starts to shake. His arms wrap around me and he presses his mouth to my neck.

“Brian…?” He whispers.

I shake my head violently, begging him not to talk.

I should know better.

He pulls back and I turn my head so he can’t see my face.

“Brian.”

I bury my face in his shoulder. He pushes my chest up gently away from his body and I keep my head turned.

“Please look at me.” He asks.

I blink a few times, trying not to totally lose it.

I finally look at him and his expression softens. Then I see it.

He’s crying too.

He touches my cheek gently and I push into his hand.

“Brian…it’s okay.”

“No. It’s…not.”

“It will be. I mean…I know I don’t remember but…”

“No. Not that.”

He blinks.

“I…” Fuck spit it out, Kinney. JUST SAY IT.

“I’m…sorry.”

He wrinkles his nose. “For what?”

“For everything I did to you.”

“Huh?”

“You…don’t remember it. But you might…one day. And you need to know how sorry I am.”

“What…did you do?” He looks scared now.

“I didn’t treat you…the best I could have. I…told you things that weren’t true.”

“Like what?”

My breath hitches and I look away again.

“Brian…tell me.”

I look back at him, right into his eyes. Fuck, he is so beautiful.

“That I didn’t care about you. That you were nothing to me.”

“T-That wasn’t true?” He asks hopefully.

“No.” I reach up and brush his bangs out of his eyes. “You’re…everything.”

He bites his lower lip and I see new tears brim in his eyes.

“I…waited four fucking years to have you back. I waited…everyday. I watched you…”

“You watched me?”

I nod.

“Why didn’t you…?”

“I didn’t want to make it worse. I thought…”

He pulls me close to him and brushes his nose against mine.

“You help me remember.”

I don’t say anything.

“I remember you.” He whispers.

“It's my fault.” I tell him.

His eyes find mine, a hurt look in them.

“What? No…”

“You got hurt because of me.”

Anger flares in his eyes.

“No. I didn’t. They told me what happened. You saved me.”

I snort.

“You did. My mom told me.”

I shake my head. “No, if I hadn’t of come…”

He GRABS my arm hard. “Don’t say that.”

“Justin…”

“NO!” He’s freaking out now. “Okay, so I don’t remember it…but I FEEL it. I feel…how it must have felt to have you there. To dance with me.”

I sigh. “You looked…”

“What?” He whispers.

I nuzzle the side of his face, my lips on his ear.

“Beautiful.”

He trembles under me. His legs intertwine with mine. I can feel his still half hard cock against my leg. I try and ignore it.

“Do you love me?” He finally asks after what seemed like hours of just holding each other. Breathing each other in.

Now it’s my turn to tremble.

“Why can’t you say it?”

“How do you know I do?” I ask.

“I told you. I feel it.”

“Then why do I have to say it?”

I feel him smile against my neck. “Who doesn’t like to be told they’re loved?”

I tense.

He rubs my back. “No one told you, huh?”

I bury my face deeper into his shoulder.

“Well I do. I love you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do.”

And that is what still amazes me about Justin. He’s so…fearless. Willing to put himself out there. His feelings. His words. His actions. He doesn’t care. He does what he wants. No apologies. No regrets.

How ironic. Wasn’t that my motto?

And now I can't say the one fucking thing I know is more of the truth of anything in my whole worthless life.

“You may not believe me now. But one day…you will.”

“I do…” I whisper.

“You do what?”

“I do believe you.”

He kisses my neck. “Good.”

I kiss him, savoring him. He moans underneath me, dry humping my leg gently. I taste every inch of his mouth, his chin, his neck. I suck on the spot underneath his ear; I remember used to drive him crazy.

It still does.

He groans loudly and clutches the back of my shirt. I suck harder, knowing I am leaving a mark and a small growl escapes his throat.

“Please, Brian. Please.”

I’m totally gone.

“Please what?”

He whimpers.

“Please fuck me.”

Now it’s my turn to growl against his pale skin.

“You want me to fuck you?” I nibble his soft neck more and he writhes underneath me.

“Please. I…need you.”

And that’s when it hits me. Like a ton of bricks crashing down on top of me.

I need him to. I need him more than I have ever needed anything in my life.

I lean up onto my arms and look down at him. His face is flushed and lips swollen and red. His eyes sparkling in the still blue lights above my bed that I never had the heart to take down.

He blinks a few times, waiting for me to do something. Anything.

I swallow hard.

I slide my hand down the front of his shirt and undo the button on his jeans. He moans softly.

“I waited four years for this…” I moan against his lips.

Justin's POV

His hands roam over the skin on my stomach gently, but I’m breathing so hard I feel like I may pass out. He says he’s waited four years for this. In my mind, my locked up little fantasy world, we have sex all the time.

But I know the truth. No one has been inside me for four years. I also know in the real world, he was the last one inside me.

Who knows how many men he’s fucked since then. Since I was hurt. Since I’ve been locked up in that ten by ten white room. Locked up inside my mind.

Hundreds probably. Thousands.

But he’s waited for four years for me?

Why?

If my dream world isn’t true…if we aren’t married. Aren’t…anything. Why is he here?

His lips are on my neck, sucking on the spot right below my ear and I feel like I’m already about to come. I moan his name and he breathes heavier against my skin.

He lifts off me just enough to remove my shirt and his eyes wander down my chest and stomach.

I bite my lower lip. I know I’m scrawny. I know I’m too skinny. And I haven’t seen the sunlight in years. I’m pale. And fragile.

In so many ways.

“Fuck…”He breathes out.

“There’s no gym in mental hospitals.” I tell him.

He chuckles at this. His eyes meet mine. “No. You’re beautiful.”

My heart skips nine beats and I pull him down to me in a feverish kiss.

His hands go up into my hair and he moans into my mouth. My fingers trailed lightly over his biceps, and he breaks the kiss, moving down my neck and chest. His tongue laps at my nipple and I arch up off the bed so high, I almost knock him off me.

He snaps his head up.

“S-Sorry.” I’m embarrassed.

“You’re nipples were always sensitive.” He groans and licks it again.

He’s right. When I have my “alone” time in my room, I always squeeze my nipple right before I come. I always imagine it’s his mouth.

And now it is.

He finally slides the unbuttoned jeans down my slim hips and my cock bobs out into the cool air. It hits his cheek with a soft slapping sound and I see the small glint of precome that has marked him.

He smiles against my cock, pressing his cheek into it. He’s…worshipping it.

Me.

I slide my fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it. He locks eyes with me and gently, ever so gently, licks the tip of my cock.

I moan, fisting my hand in his hair. His mouth hangs open for a moment and I’m afraid I yanked too hard on it.

And then, without warning, in one swift movement, my entire dick is in his mouth and down his throat. I gasp, thrusting my hips up. He grabs them, pushing me down back onto the bed. He sucks, and hums, and licks every centimeter of my cock all the way down to my balls. When I have finally settled back down onto the bed, he reaches one hand down and gently rolls my balls with his fingers. I start to lift up off the bed again and he uses his free hand to push my back down by my stomach.

I have faint memories of sex with Brian. Images that flash before my eyes from time to time. But…I don’t remember blow jobs. I don’t remember his mouth on my cock like this. I don’t remember his tongue lapping and sucking my orgasm out of me.

Honestly? Because I don’t think he did it much. If at all.

He deep throats me, and I feel the tip of my dick hit the back of his throat and I whimper, grunt, thrust, arch and moan his name, releasing into his mouth. I grip the sheet with one hand, his hair with the other. I come for what seems like minutes and he swallows, over and over, never missing one drop as it pours out of me.

When I’m finally done, he pulls up, my now semi hard cock sliding out from between his lips and slapping against my stomach. I look down at him, and his eyes are dark but glassy and I don’t know if it’s spit or come still pooled on his lower lip.

Either way, it’s so fucking hot.

I grab at him, pulling him up my body. I kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue and I moan and writhe underneath him. I wrestle with his sweatpants to get them down off his hips and he helps me with one hand, the other in my hair.

I fucking love that.

I feel his cock hit my upper thigh and I grunt and smile against his mouth.

We kiss in desperation, hands everywhere, and lips leaving spit everywhere.

“Please…”I whimper. He groans and ruts his cock against mine, bringing it back to life.

Then suddenly, the feeling in the air changes. He stops rutting. He stops kissing me.

He just stops.

Fuck. Is he changing his mind? No. No. No.

I pull back and grab the sides of his face, making him look at me.

“Brian…?”

His eyes…I can’t make out the look in them. Is it fear? No.

Anger? God no.

I can’t…

“Justin.” He says firmly.

I blink.

“It’s been four years since…”

I know what he means.

“I know.” I pet his hair.

“And I…” He begins.

“You…what?”

“I’ve been with guys…”

I swallow and nod. I knew this.

“I know. It doesn’t matter. I was…we weren’t…”

“No. Listen to me. Shut up and listen to me.” He says firmly.

I shut my mouth.

“Since…we’ve been doing this. Seeing each other again…and for a while before that…I haven’t…”

I cock my head.

He sighs heavily. “I haven’t slept with anyone in almost seven months.”

My eyes widen.

“Why are you telling me this?” I finally ask.

“Because I...” He can’t bring himself to say whatever it is he wants to say.

“You…?”

“This is like our first time…all over again.”

My eyes brim with tears. I nod.

“I want it right this time.”

“I have a feeling it was right the first time.”

He shakes his head. “No. But this time it will be.”

He kisses me, and this time it’s different from all the other times he has kissed me. It’s slow. And it tells me things he can’t say with his voice.

I wrap my legs around him, signaling to him that I’m ready. I want him in me.

I feel his cock ever so loosely at my hole and I break our kissing to look to the side table. I see the bowl of condoms and I reach for one. He grabs my wrist.

I slowly look back at him. My heart is hammering in my chest. He is changing his mind.

“No.”

FUCK.

“Brian…I’m really okay. I want this.”

He smiles gently and nuzzles his nose against mine. “No, you stupid twat. I told you. It’s going to be right this time.”

And then like a light switch being turned on in my head, I understood what he was trying to tell me.

He wants it right. Perfect.

He wants us.

Raw.

I've grown tired of holding this pose
I feel more like a stranger each time I come home.

Brian’s POV

I wake to coldness on my body. The sheets are down in a heap at the end of the bed and I am alone.

I lift up onto my elbows and scan the dark loft. I see a faint silhouette in front of the large window. I see smoke making patterns in the air and I know if I Justin could see it, he’d see the artistic beauty in it.

He’s naked and when I reach him, my warm hands slide around him and caress his taught stomach.

“What are you doing?” I whisper against his ear.

My cock is pressed against his bare ass and I can still feel the wetness there. I harden slightly knowing it’s my come making him wet.

I can’t believe we…I…

I fucked him. Raw.

I came inside him. I possessed him. Owned him. He writhed and moaned and clawed at me as I fucked him.

But it wasn’t fucking.

It was…

Perfection.

How the hell did I become such a lesbian?

“Mmm. Couldn’t sleep.” He finally answers, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

I steal it from him and take a drag. He turns his head and smiles at me.

“You…alright?” I ask.

He nods, staring out into the quiet of the city below.

“I…had a flash of something.”

“Huh?”

“While you were…fucking me. I think I remembered something. But…it could just be…”

“Your imaginary world?”

He nods.

“Tell me.” I say against his neck.

He sighs.

“It’s not completely clear. Just…small flashes. The feeling of you on top of me. The way you smelled…”

“Anything specific?” I ask hopefully.

He swallows. I feel it against my lips.

“Tell me Justin. I don’t care how stupid you may think it sounds.”

He turns in my arms and looks up at me.

“You said…” He licks his lips. “…You said, ‘I want you to always remember this.’”

I freeze. He pulls back a little.

“Brian, what?”

“That’s not…your imagination.”

“It isn’t?” He whispers.

I shake my head. “No. I said that to you…the first night…we…”

His eyes widen slightly. “I…remembered something?”

I smile and kiss him deeply. We rock back and forth as we kiss, him giggling against my lips.

“Tell me more, Sunshine.”

He giggles more. “Um…You smelled like…sandalwood.”

“That was my old cologne. You used to tell me I smelled like a lumberyard.”

His eyes sparkle in the darkness. “But you told me I had never even been to a lumberyard.”

I press my tongue against my cheek. “That’s right.”

He throws his arms around me, and presses his face against my shoulder.

“I remember something else.”

“Oh?”

He nods. “Something…bad.”

I tense.

“My…father.”

I run my fingers through the back of his hair.

“What about him?”

“I killed him.”

I said "love is waiting and better days.”

***

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since Justin had had his overnight trip with me at the loft. Two weeks since I…well you know.

And two weeks since his confession.

And two weeks since Dr. Swartz told me it was in Justin’s best interest for him to return to the ward.

The Doc thought that even though being with me and around his family and friends had broken through some barriers with his memory, he also believed it brought through some other memories, false memories, which could be detrimental to his progress.

So in English? I helped him, but I fucked him up even worse.

I didn’t tell anyone what Justin and I did. It wasn’t anyone’s business but ours.

But if I missed him or wanted him before, now, after that, being away from him was almost unbearable.

“What’s with you?” Michael asks, across from me at the diner, mouth full of French fries.

“Oh. I do not know. What could POSSIBLY be wrong with me, Mikey?”

He frowns and takes a drink of his soda. “Right. Sorry.”

I stir the sugar into my coffee.

“It's just…you seem even more on edge.”

I slowly look up at him. “They won't let him come home.”

“You really thought they were GOING to, Brian?”

I shrug.

“Brian, as much as I love Justin, and you know I do, we all do, it’s just…” He lets out a huge sigh. “He’s sick, Brian. He belongs there with people who can help him.”

“I can help him.”

“But…”

“If you say one fucking word…”

Michael raises his hands up in defeat. “Okay. Okay.”

I push my coffee away, suddenly not wanting anything.

“Brian, I know…you love him.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Are you still denying it?” Michael looks worried.

“No. I’m not.”

“Then what don’t I know?”

I can’t even tell my best friend.

“Well?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Never mind.”

“Brian. WHAT?”

I LOOK at him. “I fucked him.”

He slowly smirks. “Is that all? Come on Brian. I knew that would happen. We all knew-“

“Bareback.”

“-that would happen.” His eyes WIDEN as round as dinner plates. “WHAT?”

I sigh heavily.

“You’re joking, right?”

I say nothing.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?”

“No, Michael.”

“How could you do that!? I mean, not just YOU but to HIM?”

He was right.

“You don’t know what that’s going to do to him, Brian. He thinks you’re MARRIED. With this MANSION. For he knows he might think he’s pregnant now!”

“Okay, calm down. It isn’t that serious.”

“NOT. That. SERIOUS???”

I bury my face in my hands. “This is why I didn’t tell anyone.” I mumble.

Michael pulls my hands away from my face. “Why? Why did you do it, Brian?” He looks more…serious now. More…sad.

“I guess…” I roll my tongue on the inside of my cheek. “…to make it real. To make him…”

“Yours again?” Michael asks softly.

I nod and then he follows.

“I get that.”

I know what he’s thinking. He and Ben could never do that. They could never be as close as Justin and I are now.

Ben is HIV positive.

“Michael…”

“No. It’s okay. I’m just surprised.”

“Yeah, me too actually.”

“You must really love him.”

I say nothing and take a sip of my now cold coffee.

Love wasn’t even…the word.

It wasn’t enough to describe it.

There are no words. And even what we did…even…being with him…bareback…it still wouldn’t show Justin…or anyone…how I really felt.

That I would do anything…be…anything to make him happy.

And I had to do something. He couldn’t stay there. I can’t…be without him, as selfish as that sounds.

Not after…everything.

He needs me.

And for the first time in my life, I need someone too.

There is no pain, you are receding. A distant ships smoke on the horizon. You are only coming through in waves. Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying. When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look but it was gone. I cannot put my finger on it now. The child is grown, the dream is gone. I have become comfortably numb.

***

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Jennifer sighs. “Brian, the doctor thinks…”

“I don’t give a FUCK what he thinks.”

“He THINKS it may help Justin realize…”

“No way. No fucking way.” I get up from the small table in the visitor's room and start to pace.

“Brian, nothing else is working…”

I turn and glare at her? “NO? So everything that has happened in the past few weeks…”

She looks down at the table, staring into her coffee. “Brian…I know he seems better. And yes he remembers…some. But he is still trapped in this world…full of false memories. It’s not good for him to exist there. To continue to believe…”

“That we’re married? That we’re in love? Together? HAPPY?” I’m screaming. People are staring. I don’t care.

“No. That his father is dead. That HE killed him.”

“So you think bringing him HERE, to see Justin, is going to HELP? Are you NUTS? He hasn’t ONCE come to see him the entire time he’s been here!”

“I know that, Brian. But…I really think…”

“Well, you know what? I don’t care what you think.”

She stands from the table, a challenging look in her eyes. “Well you don’t have much of a choice. Now, I’ve accepted you. I’ve taken you into my life, I have even grown to love you Brian, but this is MY decision. Justin is still MY son, and I am his guardian. I make the decisions. NOT YOU.” She walks off, leaving me standing there, mouth open.

***

I’m watching through the window as Justin is brought into the small what could only be called interrogation room.

He looks nervous. He looks scared.

Assholes.

His mother is in there with him and hugs him and holds his hand on the table as they wait. Dr. Swartz is saying something to him, I can’t hear through the window only see.

This was all I was allowed to do.

I can’t take my eyes off Justin. All I want to do is go in there and hold him. Tell him everything is going to be okay.

The door opens and I watch as Dr. Swartz walks back in and Craig follows close behind.

Justin immediately tenses. His mother rubs his shoulder and Justin backs up from the table, knocking the chair over in the meantime.

Dr. Swartz says something to him, holding his arm out as if to calm him. Craig says something and I watch as Justin starts to shake violently and backs against the wall, trying to get as far away from him as possible. Jennifer tries to comfort him, hug him but he cowers away. Craig steps forward, trying to speak to Justin and Justin just starts to scream.

He is screaming so loud I can hear him through the soundproof window.

He is red and shaking and clawing and pushing his mother away.

I told them. I knew this was a mistake. I knew Justin couldn’t handle this. I know him.

FUCK. I try to get out of the room I am in to find it’s locked from the outside.

Assholes.

“JUSTIN! Get me the FUCK out of here!!” I’m banging on the door.

I look back at the window to find Dr. Swartz pulling a syringe out of his lab coat and I wince as he sticks it quickly into Justin’s arm.

He quickly calms, closing his eyes and collapsing into Dr. Swartz’s arms.

***

I feel like my whole life is spent watching through windows.

Justin is lying in bed, his mother and Dr. Swartz talking quietly beside him.

Justin is non responsive.

His brain activity has slowed.

He isn’t speaking. He isn’t talking.

He’s barely blinking.

He’s awake, but comatose for all intents and purposes.

Jennifer emerges from his room and looks at me with red swollen eyes.

“There’s no response. Nothing we say or do. He just isn’t…there.”

I close my eyes and try to remain calm.

“You were right…” She starts, her voice quivering.

“Stop.” I open my eyes. “Just don’t.”

She nods and looks into the window as Dr. Swartz takes Justin’s vitals one more time.

“Maybe you should try.” She whispers.

“I…can't. I can’t see him like that.”

She touches my arm. “I’m sorry, Brian.”

I don’t answer her.

There’s nothing left to say.

Lay where you're laying, don't make a sound
I know they're watching, they're watching
All the commotion, the kiddie like play
Has people talking, talking.

***

I had to plan this perfectly. It took a lot of preparation. And a lot of guts.

But, this was the only way. The only way…

I opened the door gently to Justin’s room. He was perfectly still, lying on his back on his bed.

I walk slowly to the bed and take his hand in mine.

He doesn’t even flinch.

“Sunshine…”

Nothing.

I lean down and brush my lips across his forehead.

Lifeless.

Motionless.

The same as it’s been for three weeks.

“Justin…” My voice is pleading. “What happened?”

He’s breathing, but he has no life left in him.

Dr. Swartz said it’s a type of shock that he is in.

Shock from seeing his father, after he thought he was dead. After he thought HE had killed him.

I know Justin is in here somewhere though.

I can feel it on his skin. The way he smells. Still like a mixture of the two of us together.

This is the only way.

You, your sex is on fire

I carefully lift him up and put him in his wheelchair. He sits nicely, but never even makes a sound or movement. He’s like a puppet.

I wheel him out of his room, and nod as the nurses who know me, who have known me for months…years…let me wheel him out into the courtyard for some “fresh air.”

This is the only way.

I wheel him to the edge of the garden outside and lock his wheelchair in place. I circle him and kneel down in front of him.

I look into his eyes.

They're vacant.

“Justin.”

Nothing.

“Sunshine…I need you…to work with me here, okay? We need…to leave here.”

He blinks, but doesn’t focus.

“Can you hear me? You’re gonna…be free.”

He blinks again.

“I need your help though. I need you to stand up.” I take a hold of him, under his arms and help him to his feet. He’s wobbly but he gets it after a few seconds. I hold his hand and pull him into me a little.

“Trust me, okay?”

Nothing in return.

I take his hand and pull him away from the garden, down the path that leads to the parking lot.

He follows me, half holding my hand, staring straight ahead.

“Keep walking, Justin.”

Nurses and Doctors don’t even give us a second glance as we maneuver through the crowd. When I see a chance, I break into a faster run, pulling Justin with me.

“Run, Justin. For God Sakes, run.” I whisper loudly.

He listens and picks up the pace.

We walk briskly, almost in a run to the car and I push him so swiftly into the car, I can’t believe I didn’t hit his head on the way in.

The dark of the alley, the breaking of day
The head while I'm driving, I'm driving
Soft lips are open, knuckles are pale
Feels like you're dying, you're dying.

I drive so fast that I’m not even sure how I ended up on the freeway.

This was the only way…

He is beside me, looking out the window. I take his hand in mine, but his fingers are limp.

He’s stiff. And cold.

His skin is so pale, even in the sunlight coming in through the sunroof. I reach up and brush his blonde hair out of his face.

He blinks.

This has to work. We have to work. I won't let him just drift away. He’s too beautiful. He’s too perfect.

I won’t throw it away.

I drive and drive, saying goodbye to the life behind me. Saying goodbye to what was, and giving in to what will be now.

Hot as a fever, rattling bones
I could just taste it, taste it
If it's not forever, if it's just tonight
Oh, it's still the greatest, the greatest, the greatest.

When I finally pull in, I’m so nervous and scared I can barely get the car door open I am shaking so badly. I help him out, his eyes still vacant.

I turn him around and face him toward our new life.

I hope I got it right. I was only taking the image from drawings he had done of the life he made up for us in his head.

I showed it to a real estate agent and when he brought me here…I just knew.

This was it.

He blinks, over and over. I feel him slowly relax beside me and I feel the knot in my stomach slowly dissemble.

His eyes that were vacant and hollow for weeks now show a glint of sparkle in them.

He takes a step forward.

I follow him as he makes his way ever so slowly up the stairs to house. I put the keys in his hand and he stares at them for a long time.

He finally unlocks the door, and my heart.

He steps inside and explores every inch of his…our new home.

But I know he has lived here before. For a long time.

For four long years. Alone.

He finally collapses onto his knees in the living room and I fly to his side.

“Justin.” I touch his shoulder and he looks up at me, tears streaming down his face.

“Brian…I…”

Oh god. Yes, he’s speaking.

“Sunshine.” I brush his hair out of his face.

“You’re finally home. I…I waited so long.”

My heart races and I pull him into my arms. He clings to me, sobbing into my shirt, soaking it.

I don’t care.

It took work, and a lot of imagination and knowing Justin, but I got the mansion perfect.

The mansion he wanted.

Our mansion.

I had made a decision.

If I couldn’t get him completely back in my real world, then I’d live with him in his imaginary one.

At this point, it didn’t matter.

I want to be with him. And I’ll do anything to have that happen.

He's in there, somewhere. I know it. I can feel it.

I don't know when but a day's gonna come when he wakes up from his nightmare and he remembers. He will remember that night and how beautiful we are.

Until then, this house, this life that he made up, will have to do.

It's a small price to pay to have him with me.

This is the only way...

Consumed with what's to transpire.