Brian did his homework on Justin Taylor. It was easy to obtain information from the guards, who seemed to enjoy giving the lowdown on the inmates. He ascertained that Justin was viewed as a loner. He had few friends, and preferred to stay in his cell and draw during his free time, rather than partake in sports, or associate with the other boys. His only infrequent visitor was his mother, and their relationship, according to several sources, appeared to be estranged. Over the next couple of sessions, Justin barely spoke to Brian, but he listened intently. A few times he looked like he wanted to say something, but held back. Brian was beginning to get discouraged. Studying the boy's files, it spawned an idea of sorts. Although the warden gladly gave his stamp of approval, he still wasn't sure how Justin would react. "Good Morning Sunshine", Brian said as he leaned back against the edge of the desk. Justin walked into the room, and acknowledged what was now the usual greeting, with a nod of his head. He thought Brian looked like a chesire cat, when he noticed the grin that was currently adorning his face. Justin sensed that this was not going to be one of their usual sessions. Brian observed Justin closely, as he explained to his ward that he was being given special permission to use his artistic talents to improve morale and decor in the detention center. Justin's assignment would be to paint a mural in the cafeteria. The boy seemed deep in thought, and Brian couldn't gauge his reaction. A smile slowly crept onto Justin's face, and his eyes had a gleam to them as he asked, "You mean I can paint whatever I want, and order any supplies I would need?" Brian smirked and raised an eyebrow when he replied "The only condition is that I have to approve a preliminary sketch for the mural. And as for supplies, you can order anything within reason." Justin's elation confirmed to Brian that he had finally done something right. When Brian had first expressed his plan to Justin the other day, the boy had been surprised and touched. Brian actually seemed to give a shit, and appeared to be concerned with Justin's well being. Watching Brian interact with his fellow inmates over the past two weeks, Justin had been pleased at what he had witnessed. Brian handled situations with humor and kindness, instead of cruelty and admonishment. He talked to the boys, not down to them. Justin made a crucial decision to go with his instincts. He would no longer deflect Brian's attempts to form some kind of bond with him. The next week was very encouraging to Brian. Justin's attitude had changed. He was enthusiastic about the project he was undertaking, and started to talk freely to the counselor. They would discuss the mural in their sessions, in addition to other non threatening topics. Brian celebrated this minor victory, as he felt their relationship was progressing in the right direction. He also derived a personal satisfaction, knowing that he was responsible for the kid's modicum of happiness. Brian gave the final approval on Justin's sketch. He stood there watching, as Justin began diligently outlining his mural in the lunchroom. The counselor couldn't help but offer words of praise in awe of the kid's amazing work. Justin appeared uncomfortable with the compliment, as he dismissed Brian's words, and made a negative remark instead. Brian frowned as he couldn't believe how critical Justin was of himself, and his obvious denial of his remarkable creative abilities. Brian went to put his hand on Justin's shoulder when it happened. Justin flinched, moving away from the contact. Brian's heart dropped as he saw the panicked look . The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together. He now had a good idea of what could have been traumatic enough to make the kid retreat so far into himself. If Brian's suspicions were correct, although he hoped they weren't, it all made sense. Justin claimed to be exhausted and promptly exited the cafeteria. He avoided looking directly at Brian as he scurried by him. Fuck! Why the heck did he flinch like that? Brian's perturbed gaze told him that he knew. Justin felt sick to his stomach. His self-loathing was surfacing again, as he started to recall the repressed events of his past.