"His name is Andrew Bradley, Dr. Andrew Bradley. He's an ER doctor at Harrisburg General Hospital downtown."

Those words kept echoing in Brian's head as he rode in the cab toward the hospital. He was thankful that he wasn't driving at the moment, because a jumble of emotions and unanswered questions was threatening to overwhelm him. What the hell had happened? There was no way that Justin wouldn't have contacted him if he had somehow survived that horrific train crash. Not unless he wasn't able to. But Coleman had told him that he had met Justin last night….at least Brian thought it was Justin. Coleman said Brian's description of his partner sounded very similar to this Jacob Martin. How positive could he be, though? Was he really correct or it was it just some desperate case of wishing thinking? Could his desperation to be reunited with the man he loved be clouding his judgment? He closed his eyes and conjured up the painting again in his head. He recalled the vibrant, dynamic swirls of the artist's strokes. The passion inherent in the painting that spoke volumes. The prevalent sadness that permeated it. How it was so like Justin's emotions to be transmitted to his works, like they were an extension of his own body. No, Brian decided firmly, as his heart began to race and his hands actually trembled. It HAS to be him. If it's not, I'd just as soon be dead anyway.

He nervously drummed his long fingers on his knee. "How much farther?" he impatiently asked the cabbie, who informed him they were about five minutes away. No doubt they would be the longest five minutes of his life.

Harrisburg General Hospital

He barely gave the cab driver enough time to stop before he shoved a $50 bill into the shocked man's hand and urgently opened the door to get out. As he hurried through the entrance, his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were clammy with anticipation. He hurried to the patient registration area, completely ignoring the annoyed glares of a couple who were in line before him.

"I need to see Dr. Bradley," he demanded breathlessly of the older female receptionist seated at the desk.

"Excuse me?" she replied somewhat testily. "Are you needing to register? You'll have to get in line." She peered up at him through her wire-rimmed glasses uninterestedly. After being employed there for 28 years, she had pretty heard it all; nothing fazed her. This man would have to wait just like everyone else.

This woman, however, had NOT met Brian Kinney. A very determined, extremely tense Brian Kinney. "I do NOT need to register," he firmly announced, bypassing the protests of the couple in front of him. He leaned in close to the woman as he towered over her and demanded, "I need to see Dr. Bradley…NOW."

"Look, Sir," the woman responded haughtily, trying to sound more authoritative than she actually felt as she again repeated, "I don't care if you need to see the Pope….you will need to wait in line."

Brian growled, "This is bullshit," before turning and walking toward the patient examination room doors. "Just WATCH me!"

"Sir!" the receptionist stood as she called out to him. "You can't just walk in there! I'll call security!" she warned him.

"You DO that," he shouted, before he roughly pushed the swinging doors open and rushed inside. As the employee picked up the phone to call for assistance, Brian quickly spied a nurses' station approximately 25 feet down the hallway. Striding briskly up to a nearby nurse standing behind the counter, he repeated his request to see the doctor.

"May I ask the reason why?" the nurse, who was slender, short and blond, asked him politely as she tried to covertly disguise the fact that she was admiring the elegant, dark-haired man. She wasn't immune to the man's classic good looks and Brian wasn't hesitant in the least to take advantage of it. It was time to turn on the Kinney charm…..for Justin.

Disregarding the butterflies in his stomach and his sweating palms, he forced himself to plaster on one of his most beguiling smiles, replying softly as if he were providing an intimate confidence, "I have an important personal matter to discuss with him. Would you please try and page him? It's very important, Mrs….?"

"Brown. MISS Julie Brown," she supplied, emphasizing the Miss part clearly as she returned his smile. She hesitated only briefly as Brian continued to smile attentively at her before she nodded and picked up the station phone to issue a page for Dr. Bradley. "I'll call his pager and indicate he needs to come to the nurses' station as soon as possible," she informed him as she reached out a manicured hand and placed it unintentionally, of course, on Brian's sleeve. "Mr…?"

Brian smiled again, even though his stomach was tied up in knots and his mind, as well as his heart, was somewhere else. "Kinney," he answered smoothly. "Thank you, Julie, you've been very helpful." The woman was about to no doubt pursue her conversation with Brian further when he was spared any more useless, idle chit chat as she was called over to another part of the station. Sighing in relief inwardly, he turned his back to the station, leaning up against it, as he anxiously waited for the doctor to appear who held the answers he was so desperately seeking.

Michelle's words ringing in her ears, Andrew walked slowly but purposefully from the end of the hallway toward the nurses' station. He could not be sure of the reason why he was being summoned, but somehow he DID know…..If his instincts were right, he was about to come face to face with the man who had been haunting Jacob's dreams and visions for almost two weeks now. The man who held the key to who Jacob was.

As he got closer to his destination, he observed a tall, toned, auburn-haired man leaning against the counter, his hands clasped in front of him as he nervously wrung them. From Andrew's angle, he could only see a side profile; it wasn't until the man saw him approaching from the corner of his eye and turned toward him that Andrew knew. Knew without a doubt who this man was. After all, he had seen that face countless numbers of times in the past two weeks. The depth of Jacob's artistic talent was never more evident than it was at that moment, because the likeness between the drawings and the reality was striking. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the Brian who had captured his roommate's heart. As the man now scrutinized him intently, Andrew's own heart sank, because he knew at that instant that if this man loved Jacob as much as he loved him, he would never let him go.

There was no point in asking why he had been paged to come to the nurses' station; the reason was obvious and he was standing just a few feet away from him. Talking a calming breath, he walked up to the other man. "I'm Dr. Bradley," he verified to Brian. "You wanted to see me?"

Brian was briefly taken aback by how much this other man resembled him; same shade of dark brown hair, same color of eyes, even the same type of build, although the other man was slightly shorter and not quite as toned. Was Justin trying to replace him somehow? He tampered down the sudden pang of jealousy and insecurity that had inexplicably rose to the surface as he prepared to grill this other man on just what his role was in Justin's life, and more importantly, where his partner was and just what the hell had been going on for the last two weeks.

Before Brian had a chance to say anything, however, a security guard hurriedly walked up to the station, with the receptionist close behind. "That's him," she growled, as she pointed at Brian and glared arrogantly at him.

"Is this man bothering you, Doctor?" the security guard asked Andrew in concern as he curiously examined the other man. For a tiny second, Andrew was actually tempted to tell him yes; it would temporarily, at least, rid him of having to deal with the man who was about to totally uproot both his life and Jacob's. He knew, however, that no matter how he might feel, it would not be fair to his friend, whose most sacred wish for the past couple of weeks was to find out who he was and regain his memory. Sighing in resignation, he informed the security guard, "No, Rick…There's not a problem. It's fine…..really. We...….have personal business to discuss." Assured there was not going to be any problems, the guard nodded and left; the receptionist stood there for a few seconds more, hands crossed over her chest, before she finally let out a huff of frustration, turned on her heels, and stormed back toward the waiting area.

Relatively alone at last, Andrew turned his attention back toward the other man and stated, "You're Mr. Kinney." He didn't frame it as a question; it was more of a statement, because he already knew the answer. This man could only be one person.

Brian nodded as he continued to stare evenly at the other man. "Brian Kinney," he stated as the two rival men politely shook hands. Brian's outward calm totally belied the roiling turmoil going on inside him at the moment. Uncertainty, yearning, and desperation were mixed in with nervousness, excitement and hope. He almost felt like he was living through another dream; unlike all the other ones that had haunted him for the past several days, however, this vision actually felt like a promising one.

Andrew nodded. "I've been expecting you," he told the other man. As Brian looked at him, somewhat surprised, he explained, "Brady called his wife after he spoke to you. He figured you were on your way here by the hasty exit you made at his office. She told me what had happened…so I could prepare for it."

"Prepare for it?" Brian asked pointedly in anger. "This isn't some fucking dress rehearsal I need to discuss with you. This is about..."

"I KNOW what this is about, Mr. Kinney," Andrew told him curtly. "And I know only too well what's on the line here. The question is….do YOU?" He continued to stare at the taller man, astonished by how much he resembled Jacob's sketches; it was as if his roommate's drawings had come to life. He imperceptibly motioned with his hand to the right before Brian had a chance to reply. "Over there….." he indicated shortly, as he turned toward a faculty lounge located nearby. At this time of day he was hoping it would be empty; as Brian followed closely on his heels, he opened the door and was relieved to find that it was unoccupied.

Closing the door behind him, he gathered his thoughts and quickly tried to determine the best way to approach this agitated, impatiently waiting man. "Please sit down," he asked Brian politely, before he took his own place at one of the industrial, hard plastic lunch tables strewn amongst the vending machines.

"I'll stand, thanks," Brian snapped, as he leaned against the far wall. "Let's cut out all this bullshit right now. I want to know what the HELL is going on here! And where is JUSTIN? I want to see him!" And hold him and kiss him, never let him go and never let him out of my sight ever again. "Just what is your part in this? I want some fucking ANSWERS from you!"

"I'm sure you do," Andrew tartly replied. He sighed in exasperation; this was not getting them anywhere. "Look, Mr. Kinney…I will take you to see him. But before I do, there's some things you need to know. For Jacob's sake."

Brian crossed his hands over his chest and huffed an angry breath, eyes flashing with barely controlled fury. His voice rose as he slowly walked toward the other man, his hands gesturing as he spoke clearly. "First of all, his name is JUSTIN. Second of all, I've known him for six years now, so don't go fucking trying to tell me that YOU know what's best for him or dictate to me when I can see him. You can just fucking get out of the way and take me to him – NOW! If you won't cooperate with me, I'll figure out where he is on my own – I won't LEAVE this fucking city until I DO! Count on it, doctor! Now what's it going to be – the easy way or the HARD way?"

Despite the man being only five feet away from him, Andrew was not going to be intimated, even though inside he was secretly fearful of the towering, raging man glaring at him. For his friend's sake, he was not going to let this man deter him from making sure Jacob was not damaged any further. "I told you already that I would take you to him," he countered evenly, holding his ground as he peered up at the man. "But as the initial treating doctor for him, I need for you to know a few things first." He watched intently as the other man's face almost instantly changed from one of rage to concern, as worry flitted across his eyes. "Now if you will SIT DOWN, we can discuss this calmly. The sooner I talk to you about his medical condition, the sooner you can go SEE him." Andrew still didn't know if this was the right approach to helping Jacob recover; he was certainly not a medical expert in neurological matters involving the brain. But he could tell this man was NOT going to be dissuaded from his intention to see Andrew's roommate at any cost. The least he could do, however, was make sure this other man knew exactly what they were dealing with; he just prayed that he was doing the right thing, medical confidentiality rules notwithstanding.

At the mention of Justin's medical condition, Brian's blood ran cold. He should have known there was something going on that would have prevented his partner from getting in touch with him immediately after the accident. Thoughts of resentment toward the other man immediately disappeared for the time being as his mind focused on more important, critical matters. He sagged slightly, his anger decreasing to a simmer, as he slowly pulled out a nearby chair and, straddling it backwards, sat down opposite the other man. "Tell me," he urged the other man anxiously, his voice slightly breaking as he nervously awaited the doctor's information.

Andrew took a calming breath; his doctor's training kicking in as he began to tell this man just what had happened to his partner. "Jacob was brought into the emergency room two weeks ago this coming Monday by a couple who had found him just outside town on Rt. 55. They told the admitting nurse that he was a stranger to them, that they had found him lying along the side of the road. They also told the nurse that when they had knelt alongside him, he was floating in and out of consciousness. The husband fortunately had had some medic training the army, and noticed he had some bruising along the right side of his skull."

Andrew heard the other man gasp involuntarily at the mention of Jacob's injury; the brunet visibly flinched as well. This man apparently must know something about Jacob's previous head injury, he surmised, reminding himself to ask about what he knew later before he continued the narration. "He luckily instructed his wife to help keep his head stable while they placed him in the back of their car and brought him here to the ER."

Brian closed his eyes in agony. MY GOD. NOT another injury to his head. "Go on," he whispered painfully, wanting to know the rest but again not wanting to know.

Andrew nodded. "He was given treatment for the more superficial, external head bruising and also underwent a cranial x-ray and MRI to check for more critical internal injuries, which indicated fairly significant swelling around the cerebral cortex area….."

"Which affects cognitive memory," Brian supplied for him, as Andrew looked at him startled. "You've had medical training?" he asked the older man in surprise.

"No," Brian whispered, his voice cracking despite vowing to himself not to show any sign of weakness toward this other man. "Some fucking asshole took a bat to Justin's head when he was 17 over philosophical differences," he disclosed as he spat it out distastefully. "Sounds like it was pretty much in the same spot." He brushed his hands across his face in frustration and disbelief. "You learn a lot from doctors about the inner workings of the brain when someone's in a coma for a couple of weeks and loses motor control afterward," he revealed to Andrew.

Andrew looked over at him, stunned. A baseball bat? My God…..what kind of person would DO that, especially to someone as sweet and kind as Jacob? "Dear God," he whispered aloud in horror. A flashback at his apartment came unbidden to his mind. Jacob's hand throbbing inexplicably in discomfort and pain. At the time he had thought it was just some residual effect from his unexplained, recent injury. "Did….did he sustain damage to his hand during that assault…..his right hand?" he asked the other man clinically.

"Yes," Brian simply whispered, trying hard not to relive that awful experience yet again. Until now, he thought that would be the most difficult, terrible ordeal of his life, even worse than when his old man had beaten him up just for kicks. Now he knew he was wrong – the past two weeks had by far been even worse. "He had to undergo therapy for several weeks for it, and even now it still acts up when he's used his hand too much." Thoughts of sitting beside Justin, gently and tenderly massaging the angrily-pulsating hand with his larger one, appeared to him in his mind before he forcefully turned his thoughts back to the situation at hand. What was this man telling him? Oh, yeah…MRI, x-rays…..Cognitive memory.

Cognitive memory. Oh, Shit….The pieces suddenly, abruptly fell into place. All his wondering, the most critical issue while on the way from Coleman's office to the hospital, instantly disappeared. His wondering why Justin hadn't contacted him after being injured. The ONLY reason there could possibly be for why the man he loved, and the man he felt sure loved him just as deeply in return, hadn't reached out to him after somehow, miraculously surviving that awful accident.

"His memory has been affected, hasn't it?" Brian asked the other man intuitively, worry again etched on his face – clearly shown in his eyes that were wide with concern, and in the wrinkled lines on his brow. As the other man nodded in confirmation, he asked hesitantly, "Just how much has it been affected? What DOES he remember?"

Andrew pursed his lips and curled them into his mouth; how much should he tell this man? Thoughts of Jacob's nightmares these past several nights, the man's agony over not knowing about himself and his past, and his constant dreams and visions of the brunet now staring back at him in the flesh, flashed through his mind. Everything…he decided. For Jacob's sake…everything. Taking a deep breath, he began to reveal it all. "Initially, his memory loss was total. He was suffering from what is known as retrograde amnesia – total loss of previous events prior to the accident. He didn't even know his name – the name he is going by now was given to him by Brady's wife, actually, who was his initial tending nurse immediately after he was admitted. She knew someone else by that name, and thought he deserved something better than just John Doe," he explained to the other man.

"He didn't know where he was from, how he had gotten injured; nothing at all prior to the trauma." Looking at the other man somewhat regretfully now, he divulged, "Of course, everyone here knew about the train accident the day before. But the devastation was so total, and the fire marshal was so adamant that there could not have been any survivors, no one here even thought to put two and two together. After all, Rt. 55 is a long highway here in Harrisburg, and the couple did not reveal exactly where they had found him that day. And naturally, Jacob couldn't tell us." He grimaced ruefully as he admitted, "In hindsight, we should have been more diligent in determining a connection there. But Jacob, of course, couldn't recall and no one simply connected the dots correctly…..until now, that is," he concluded, as he looked over at the other man, who had his eyes closed momentarily. What the other man was thinking wasn't exactly clear to Andrew; but he could easily see a mixture of emotions displayed on the man's face: grief, pain, concern, worry, realization, and….love.

"Anyway," the doctor continued, as Brian finally opened his eyes again to follow his narrative. "He was well enough after a couple of days – outwardly, at least – to be discharged. He couldn't very well be dismissed from the hospital on his own – not even knowing who he was or anything – and his condition was going to have to be closely monitored, even with outpatient treatment. My roommate had recently transferred out of town, and I had an extra bedroom, so I offered to let Jacob stay with me for a while until he improved and was able to get back on his feet. He's been there now for almost two weeks now," he advised the other man.

Brian shook his head, still in shock and overwhelmed by the information overload. In less than twenty-four hours, he had gone from being emotionally distraught and at the lowest fucking point of his entire life to a feeling of hope and then extreme exhilaration at the discovery that the man who had totally captured his heart so firmly and had turned him into the man he kept so hidden deep himself was... alive. Broken, yes, but ALIVE. He had had enough talk. He knew enough. He knew what he was facing – what they BOTH were facing. But they would face it together now. Pushing himself back from the table and standing up, he announced, "I've heard enough, doctor. I need to see him – NOW."

Andrew reached out and firmly placed his hand on the man's arm that was supporting his weight against the table. "Wait," he implored the man urgently. "I WILL take you to see him – soon. But you need to hear just a little more. If you truly want to help him – and I believe you do – you need to know as much about his condition as possible."

Brian turned his eyes to the ceiling, indecision warring within him. His need to see Justin so fucking badly was battling with his innate sense that this man – this doctor – was probably making sense. He did need to know everything – in order to help Justin. "Okay," he finally conceded, refusing to sit down, however. "I'm listening," he acknowledged, as Andrew removed his arm. "But make it fast – I need to SEE him." He stood up fully now, his hands on his hips impatiently.

Andrew nodded his understanding. "I already knew who you were before you got here. Even if Michelle hadn't told me about Brady's call," he advised the other man, who merely raised his eyebrow curiously. "I noticed Jacob drawing something for a little girl here in the hospital when he was waiting to have one of his tests done, and I was floored by his artistic talent. A few days after he came home to stay with me, I bought him a sketchpad and a couple of canvasses for him to work on while I was at the hospital to pass the time. Until he started drawing in the sketchbook, I would have never known about you. But somehow despite his memory loss, Jacob still remembered you."

Brian looked at him in shock. He thought the man had told him he didn't recall anything. "I thought you told me he didn't remember anything prior to the accident."

"Not outwardly in the traditional, medical sense," Andrew explained. "But every drawing he made, even the second painting he worked on, focused on one subject: YOU. He even dreamed about you – called you by name. That's how he somehow knew the name of the man he was constantly thinking about was your name." Andrew swallowed a lump in his throat. He cared so much for Jacob; it hurt to know that even if Jacob couldn't remember much of his life prior to the accident, somehow he still remembered this other man who was now looking at him with a sense of renewed hope.

Brian's heart soared; so Justin hadn't forgotten everything. He just needed to be reminded of what he had lost. And Brian was determined to see that his partner remembered it ALL. He suddenly recalled what Blake had told him – could the man actually have been telling him the truth? "Did you and Justin travel to Pittsburgh the other day? To my club? That was YOU?"

Andrew gazed at him, shocked. "Yes. Jacob had had a dream – a nightmare, more accurately – about being involved in the bombing that occurred about a year ago, and was convinced he was part of the event. He found out the bombing he imagined in his dream had, in fact, actually occurred and was insistent on traveling to Pittsburgh to find out more. He can be very persistent, as well as stubborn," he added.

Brian actually smiled a little at that comment; apparently some things hadn't changed, despite Justin's significant issues with his memory. "I know," he breathlessly whispered, as he tried hard to not revisit that terrible night at Babylon when Mikey was critically injured and he was scared out of his fucking wits over where Justin was. After all, that was the first time he had admitted to Justin what the blond actually knew all along – that he loved him with all his heart.

"How…..how did you know?" Andrew asked him now, surprised by the man's knowledge of their visit.

Brian sighed as he rolled his eyes in guilt. How could he have known that Blake would be telling the truth? Justin was supposed to be DEAD. How wonderful it felt now to know that he was WRONG about that. He resolved at some point to tell Blake just how wrong he had been…..he would be more than HAPPY to tell the man that. AFTER he took care of what – whom – was most important. "Someone who knew Justin told me he had seen him with another man in front of the club. I just couldn't believe him…I mean, how could I? Justin was supposed to be dead by then. It was impossible…or so I thought." He shook his head – if only he had chosen to believe the impossible back then – he could have been that much closer to being with Justin. Impatiently now, he urged the man, "Are you done now, doctor? I need to fucking SEE him."

"Almost," Andrew assured him. "Speaking of the club, you need to be aware that he injured his hand when we went to Pittsburgh. His left hand," he hurriedly clarified, as he noticed Brian's face turn white. "He was…understandably very upset by the club being closed for remodeling." Almost apologetically, he revealed to the other man, "He became extremely frustrated by not being able to get some answers that he smashed his hand into the metal door and sprained it. It's in a sling right now and a temporary cast. He didn't do any permanent harm to it," he assured the other man, who had closed his eyes again in pain. "But it hurts occasionally still, so he takes a pain pill for it when it does." Before Brian had the chance to dismiss their conversation, he added one more word of caution; he knew the other man's patience was up several minutes ago; hell, from the second they had entered the room, actually. "One last thing," he warned him. "I'm not sure my letting you see him is in his best interests, medically speaking," he advised. "Let me finish," he insisted, as he noticed Brian about to utter a strong, angry and vehement protest at his words. "I promised I would take you to see him, and I will. You just need to realize, though, that this may be a major shock to him. I'm not sure just what his reaction will be, or how it will affect him. So before we go, I need to get your word that you will give me a few minutes to see him alone. To prepare him for you."

"PREPARE him for me?" Brian spat out. "This is my PARTNER we're talking about! Do you think I would do anything that would hurt him? Do you have any concept as to how much HURT I've been through in the past two weeks, thinking that he was dead?"

"Yeah," Andrew answered him truthfully. "I think I do," he added softly. Probably as much hurt as I am about to go through when you take him AWAY from me. If he were being honest with himself, though, he couldn't have something taken away from him that never actually belonged to him in the first place. Aloud, he resolutely told the other man, "If you love him as much as I think you do, you will do this – for HIM. If you want him back anywhere near the way he was before, you will at least give me a couple of minutes to try and cushion the shock over seeing the man in person that he has been constantly dreaming about and sketching over and over again. Only then will I let you see him. Are we in agreement?" he asked the man, staring at him defiantly.

Brian challenged his authority for several seconds as he boldly returned his stare; the gall of this man, teling him what he could or couldn't do when it came to Justin. When the doctor did not back down, however, Brian concluded, reluctantly, that he was probably right. As desperately and as badly as he needed to see his partner – his ALIVE partner – God, how WONDERFUL that sounded! – he knew deep down the man was correct. In his condition, Justin needed a little advance preparation for their reunion from someone he had come to depend upon in the past couple of weeks. The man's help toward his partner, however, was about to come to an end. Brian would make sure that Justin received whatever he needed – medical help, time, money, and plenty of love – whatever the fuck he possibly required, in order to recover from his memory loss. He would see to that – no matter WHAT it took.

He took a deep breath; he was about to have the most important encounter of his life. His body thrummed with excitement now and urgent anticipation as his heart finally swelled with hope and joy. "I agree," he finally announced.

Andrew nodded, satisfied that this man would, indeed, keep his word. "Then let's go," he simply indicated, as he sat up from his chair and walked toward the door. "I'll tell the nursing staff I need to take a quick break – I only live a few minutes from here," he advised the brunet.

One SECOND is way too long, Brian concluded, as a warm, bathing light finally poured into him. Hang on, Sunshine – I'm coming.