I'm overwhelmed with the positive feedback :) Really. Thank you all so much - and thanks on the positive comments on ID - I hope to finish it this year ;) Now the bad news: My laptop broke down and I don't know if and when it can be fixed, so I have to use the family computer - the rusty old, family computer. I don't like writing on it as much as I do on my laptop, so the next bit might take a few days. No worries though, it's all finished on paper. Thanks so incredibly much to Sheila, who beta'd this :) *smoooches* _________________________________ Faintest Spark, II Long before Justin opens his eyes he can hear the hushed whispers from one side of his bed to the other. It's his mother's voice and he smiles when he recognizes it. “Justin?” A hand touches his forehead gently and he nods but struggles to open his eyes. The lids feel heavy as if he'd been asleep for a long while and the neon-light stings in his eyes. “Justin!” he turns his head to the right side weakly, and he freezes. The girl's name is on the very tip of his tongue but he doesn't dare saying it, afraid he's imagining things. But then his mother says it, “Molly, go get a doctor!” and Justin wants to ask why? How? but tears burn at the back of his eyes and he's not going to cry, he's not weak, he's not going to break down after just waking up. Before he can ask anything at all, his mother and the girl, his sister, are swept away. He's on his own amongst the medical personnel of the hospital. And how did he end up in there anyway? They prod him with instruments and a large, beefy man poses all kinds of questions to him, questions Justin can't answer, won't answer because if anything, he's the one who should be allowed to ask them. He's the one who's been out of it for -- how long? It seems he should ask. But all the nurses do is check his vitals. They ignore his confused glances, the way he opens his mouth to speak when a silence occurs and it's hard, so hard to concentrate on what they're saying because he is still so tired. And he's just woken up and really shouldn't be tired at all. He fights sleep, fights with all the strength left in him but as his eyes fall shut, he knows he can't do anything about it, and so, he lets himself drift off. The next time he wakes up, someone is squeezing his hand. And a male voice whispers his name, gently coaxing him to finally wake up. Justin revels in the thought that it might be Brian beside him but the touch of the hand is different and the voice doesn't have the right timbre. “Justin?” As he opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is that he has been moved into a different room, away from the white, stark cleanliness of the ICU. He's in a soft yellow, single room now with light that isn't quite so harsh to his eyes. The gentle, warm hand comes up to his forehead and tucks a stray strand of hair back behind his ear – when did his hair become so long? And then there is the voice again. “Justin?” When he can finally bring himself to turn his head to his side, all the muscles in his body throb with pain. He bites his dry lip to suppress a painful moan but then he gasps in surprise anyway. The man to his side is stunningly handsome. Delicately chiselled features, high cheekbones, dark, warm eyes, short-cropped hair, slightly tanned, a sincere smile playing on his lips which is directed at Justin and has him wondering, wondering who that man is. The guy seems as old as Brian, moves as gracefully – yet, he isn't Brian. But they seem to know each other well because his hands keep touching Justin, petting his hair and then the man moves in close and press his lips to Justin's cheek. Justin struggles to move away; the stranger is getting too close and only Brian is entitled to get this close. He loves Brian, he only loves Brian, doesn't he? “Justin, I... okay. I'm just glad that you woke up,” the man says. “How – how long was I in a coma?” Justin mutters. His throat feels dry and so do his lips. “Can I have some water?” His visitor gets up and fetches the pitcher of water from the table, then helps Justin to gulp down a few sips of water through a straw. “You have been sleeping for three day. Your mom and everyone have been very worried.” Justin nods and closes his eyes. Three days, three fucking days and everything is different. “What happened?” “You got hit by a bus. It knocked you over hard. Debbie said you wanted to take her - “ “Wait – Debbie was there? Is she okay?” Justin sighs. At least Debbie is still around. His companion clears his throat. “She’s okay. She was on the other side of the car. You don't remember, do you?” Justin shakes his head, causing another lock of blond hair to fall on his forehead. He still can't get his head around the idea that it has only been three days. There's the hand again, combing hair behind his ear and then running aimlessly through the strands. Justin tries so hard to bite the words back but they slip out of their own volition. “I don't remember you.” The hand which played idly with his hair freezes and when Justin looks at the foreign face which should be familiar, which is probably the first thing he sees in the morning, it is blank, lips pursed tightly. Kevin hopes disappointment doesn't show on his face but it shocks him to actually hear Justin say what he feared all along. He's merely a stranger to Justin, face without a name, not even a faded memory of the past, just no one. The door opens without a knock and they hear Debbie's voice before she even sets a foot into the room. Instantly, the confused look is wiped from Justin's face and his lips curl into a smile. “Sunshine!” Debbie exclaims and a laugh bubbles from Justin's throat. She's the same, still the same and maybe, he thinks, this all is just a joke, a bad joke and Debbie has come to clear it all up. The man who'd sat so patiently at his side scrambles to his feet and almost leaves the room without looking back. Justin wants to call him, say something but he doesn't know how to address him without a name. Debbie jumps in for him. “Hey, Kevin!” she says, “I think Sunshine here has something to tell you!” Kevin turns and Justin thinks that he is definitely the kind of guy he'd go after and would want to draw and he wonders if maybe Kevin has replaced his long favorite object: Brian. “I'm sorry,” Justin says, “maybe in a few days?” Kevin raises his hand and stops him. “I'll be back tomorrow, Justin. We'll talk then.” Debbie waits until the door is closed. Her initial happiness at seeing Justin has worn off during the scene she just witnessed. “They say it's only temporary. You'll be back to yourself faster than you know,” Debbie says. Justin makes room for her to sit on the edge of his bed. “The last thing I remember is standing outside the back of your house, smoking with Brian.” He speaks slowly, revelling in the memory. He can smell the smoke and feel Brian's arm around his shoulders. Debbie puts her hand to his cheek tentatively. “Oh Justin, that's been so long ago.” “I don't live with you and Vic anymore, that's all I know.” “No, Sunshine,” she says slowly and wonders how much she should tell him, “Vic – he's... he died a couple of years ago.” It's all too much for Justin. Within seconds his world seems to crumble even more. “Dead? A couple of years ago?” Tears spill down his cheek and he holds onto Debbie's hand for dear life. Justin doesn't know whether he stopped crying or if he drifted off from the exhaustion of the afternoon but it is dark when he wakes up and the hallway outside his room is quiet. The hospital gown is sticky on his skin as Justin sits up, slowly, and then moves his legs over the edge of the bed and God, does every muscle ache. His feet connect to the cold ground and he pushes up to stand but when he does, he almost falls face first to the ground, suddenly feeling dizzy. As he holds onto the nightstand before him, he pants heavily, praying he won't throw up what little is left in his stomach from lunch- that would be really embarrassing. His hands find the light switch and it takes a few moments until his tired eyes adjust to the sudden light. Determinedly, he moves over to the small closet and pulls out whatever his mother brought him over earlier that day. Justin takes his sketchpad and a few pencils with him, just in case, and when he's settled down in bed again, clothes changed, he flips through the pages, just to see whether they trigger anything. But he remembers absolutely nothing. There are a couple of drawings of that man. Justin has to remind himself to call him 'Kevin', and if they're not completely made up, and Justin doubts they are, then his partner is beautiful. But still, he feels completely indifferent about him. Kevin is not Brian, he's not who Justin wants to be with, not until he remembers. However, he must be something to Justin – after all, Justin left Brian or Brian left him. He has no idea but Brian and him are apparently nothing anymore. God, Justin thinks, Michael must be out of his mind with joy. .................... By the time Jennifer calls Brian in his Kinnetik office, Justin has been awake for three days. She assumed Brian would pick up his routine of feigning ignorance but going to see Justin at night again. But even that – he doesn't do. Jennifer thinks he should have moved long past this stage, after all Justin and him have been through, but apparently, that's not the case. She calls to commandeer him to visit Justin, immediately because her son needs him. “I'm sorry, Mother Taylor,” Brian remarks, “but I am in not was the one to care for Justin anymore.” “Brian, please. I – it might trigger something inside him, help to heal him faster. It's not like I’m asking you to take him in again.” Brian rejects the idea, “I really don't see how my presence will heal a concussion. It'll go away on its own. He'll breeze through it, like always.” Jennifer smiles, she can sense the slightest hint of hurt pride in Brian's words, however, he's unaware of the fact that all Justin knows is him, Brian. There's no New York in Justin's mind, no millions in his bank account, no Kevin. “Oh Brian, no one told you?” she asks. The tone in which Jennifer says it fills Brian with fright. Something is wrong. “I – Brian, Justin's okay, physically anyway, but he lost – he lost his memory. A couple of years are missing.” Brian swallows noisily around the lump which had been forming in his throat. It could be worse but it's bad enough as it is. “How many?” “Most of the last seven years, he remembers the two of you in your early days. He thinks he's seventeen and missing school.” Pictures flash past Brian. Justin doesn't remember Ethan, Stockwell, cancer, the almost wedding, New York, their break up, the bashing and the bitter months of rehabilitation and physical training afterwards. He doesn't remember how Brian had hurt him on several occasions – and maybe, Brian thinks, that is how it should be, that they're not made for each other and Justin's memory has been wiped out for a reason. “Brian?” Jennifer asks and he's pulled back into the present. “Is that so? I don't see how my presence will be of any help then. I'll fill him up with all his memories only to tell him that he's living with someone else now in the end? It will only confuse him more and once he remembers, I'd rather not be around.” Jennifer had known it would be hard to convince Brian but she never expected it to be this hard. “I understand your point – but Brian, if you don't want to help him, maybe you can at least visit him once because you – you love him.” Brian doesn't give in yet. “Jennifer, I'm glad you filled me in on his current state. But it's time for me to get back to work.” “Okay, I'll see you for lunch next week.” Brian has barely ended the call when he asks for Cynthia over the intercom. “Cancel the pitch tomorrow at two and reschedule it for later this week.” “Brian – that one's important,” Cynthia tries to protest. “Say it's an emergency, family.” Cynthia nods, understanding perfectly well that Brian is talking about Justin and she's glad because Ted had already worried that Brian might fall back into the habits he developed the first time around. .................. As the nurse wheels Justin back into his room after his daily check up, he's there. Sitting in the chair next to Justin's unmade hospital bed is Brian in a charcoal designer suit and a blue shirt. He looks so terribly out of place that Justin has to crack a smile despite the shock. “Hey?” he says but it comes out like a question. Brian nods and watches silently as Justin gets out of the wheelchair and thanks the nurse. He walks over to the bed and sits down carefully. When they're alone, Brian finally speaks up. “I hear you're doing fine, mostly.” “As fine as one can do with the most significant years of his life missing from his memory.” “I heard about that, too.” “The last thing I remember is you and me, in Deb's garden. After that it gets a little blurry and then there's nothing. Have you seen my sister? She's almost grown up now. And she's going out with a guy.” Brian nods. “I still see her,” he says, “your mother and I have lunch together sometimes. She brings Molly along from time to time. She's as persistent and ambitious as you.” Justin smiles proudly and tells Brian, “I'm glad you still look out for them.” Brian shrugs in reply and almost lets slip that they were almost family to him. And maybe they actually are. There are so many questions Justin has in his head but he doesn't dare asking all of them at once. Of course, he wants to know why he left for New York, how they broke up, how they were doing afterwards. But he doesn't know just how much Brian wants to share. He's a different person to Justin. He looks a little older than Justin remembers and he seems much more – Justin thinks 'mature' but he knows that would only earn him a funny look from Brian. But most of all, Brian has changed in the sense that Justin can't read him anymore. Brian pulls him out of his thoughts. “Listen, I've still got an appointment later on today. If you want to talk about anything, we'd better talk now.” They stare at each other for a long moment before Justin gives in and asks, “Just – how long were we in a relationship and did you ever tell me? That you loved me?” He smirks at Brian's displeased expression. “Close to five years. And I did. We... we almost...,” he trails off, knowing that telling Justin all about their mutual past when there's no time to explain is a bad idea. “I did.” “You did, huh?” Justin smiles, “Apparently, you never managed to get rid off me.” Brian wants to say 'Yes, eventually I did and it was the biggest fucking mistake of my life' but he presses his lips together tightly and looks away. Justin reaches out to cup Brian's cheek and make him face Justin again. He doesn't know where the urge to tell Brian that he probably never stopped loving him comes from but then their moment is gone because the door opens and Justin's partner enters. Brian lets out a sound close to a groan and Kevin looks rather unamused. Justin wonders at what kind of connection the two have and if they know each other at all. He wonders if Brian fucked Kevin, too. He's just too handsome for Brian to let the chance pass. “Hey,” Justin finally says and forces a smile on his face. Kevin nods, then gestures behind him. “I can wait outside if...,” “No, no. I have to go anyway.” Brian gets up and straightens out his slacks. “I hope you get better soon, Justin.” “Brian - “ Justin calls. He fears Kevin won't appreciate what he has to say but he loves Brian, doesn't he? “Will you be back?” Justin knows Brian is not one to make promises, at least that's how he remembers him, but Brian surprises him and says, “I guess.” Justin's face lights up and Brian wonders how he ever, ever let Justin go. It's then that Kevin knows he has probably lost Justin.