An uncomfortable silence permeated the room for several seconds after Brian's departure. Daphne sat next to her best friend – the man she normally felt so free to laugh with, joke with, and just be herself with. She was certainly unaccustomed to the way she felt right now – awkward and almost shy. She glanced over at Justin, whose eyes were downcast and looking at his lap. He no doubt felt the same way as she did. Usually when they were together, she couldn't get him to stop talking, sometimes to her slight aggravation. Normally he would talk nonstop about anything and everything when they were together and not even come up for breath.

As she sat there deep in thought, she recalled the only other time she could remember him being so quiet like he was right now. It was right after he had broken things off with Ethan and he had moped around her apartment; she had been surprised but not altogether shocked to find out it was because he was regretting his decision to leave Brian, not Ethan. That had lasted, though, only until they had come up with a mutual plan to win Brian back. Since the time they had been reunited, the two men had virtually been inseparable, at least until Justin had decided to try his luck at an art career in New York City. He had finally told Daphne a few weeks ago, however, that he could no longer stand to be apart from Brian and was returning to Pittsburgh to resume his career here with the man he loved, the man he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. But that was before the accident….before this.

She sighed softly, which finally got her friend's attention; at last he looked up from his lap to glance over at her. She smiled a little self-consciously at him as she said, "This is a little strange to say the least. I mean, I know you but you really don't remember me."

Justin eyes looked back at her with a mixture of curiosity and regret as he replied softly, "I…..I do remember a few things about my past." He twisted his mouth a little in a sort of silent apology that he unfortunately really didn't recall anything about her, however. "I've had a lot of dreams since the accident, mainly about Brian – and me. In all sorts of situations – here at this place," he divulged, as his hand swept around the loft, "and at Britin. Even at Babylon…..or I guess it's Pulse now. I've even remembered a few things about Gus."

He explained to her that Brian and he had spent their ride back from Harrisburg talking about some of his dreams and what they had meant. "Brian has filled in a lot of the details about my dreams, but there's so much to digest when you can't hardly recall any of it. I mean, there's 23 YEARS of memories I have to recover." He rubbed his hands over his face quickly in frustration before sighing. "Sometimes it seems nearly insurmountable, although I wouldn't want to tell Brian that," he admitted to his friend. "He's….so convinced that I will get all of my memory back soon," he told her, smiling a little wistfully. "I'm…..not so sure, Daphne. It's been almost two weeks. And in that time, it seems like I've remembered so fucking little. It doesn't make me real optimistic, to be honest." He wasn't quite sure why he was opening up to this virtual stranger about his condition and his fears; perhaps somehow he subconsciously knew he could trust her to tell him the truth. "Andrew told me there's so little really that's known about the brain by medical science, it's all an educated guess when everything's said and done."

Andrew. Justin had mentioned him earlier, and Daphne had noticed the brunet's clear irritation at the mention of that name. She knew that despite Brian's adamant vow over the years that he "didn't do jealous," she – and Justin – knew better when it came to his partner. He may not come out and say so, but the man didn't have to – his feelings of possessiveness toward his partner and his wrath at any other man that tried to come between him was clearly broadcast all over his face whenever those situations occurred. The man didn't have to say ANYTHING – his body language and his face spoke volumes. And Daphne had easily noticed the man's transparent look of jealousy at the sound of this particular man's name earlier.

"Andrew…..you mentioned him earlier. You said you stayed with him after you got out of the hospital?" she softly pressed him; she was curious to hear just what it was about this man that had gotten Brian's dander up so quickly before.

Justin nodded. "Yeah….He was really good to me. He let me stay with him after I got out – I really had nowhere to go, and he had a spare bedroom because his roommate had recently moved out, so he invited me to live there with him."

Daphne digested that little bit of information. Hmm. Spare bedroom. So apparently Justin wasn't sleeping with the guy at least. She supposed that was something to be thankful for – if Brian had found out that Justin and this Andrew guy had had sex that would have definitely rankled the man, and it would have no doubt made it doubly difficult for her friend and him to get their lives back on track. She briefly thought of how ironic that was, in light of how Brian used to fuck any good-looking trick that came within 2 feet of him; now from what Justin had told her, since they had committed themselves to a more monogamous relationship, his partner never engaged in that type of activity any more out of respect for Justin. She silently thanked God that Justin had apparently kept his part of their agreement somehow, even if it was unknowingly.

"He's a doctor at the same hospital you were treated at?" she asked her friend curiously.

Justin nodded again. "Yeah – he's an emergency room doctor there. Kept kind of strange hours, too, because of it. I tried to thank him for letting me stay with him by cooking some meals for him." He smiled a little at his recollection of Andrew's brief, failed attempt to help him bake a cake. "I found out he's not real adept in the kitchen."

Daphne eyed him intently; Justin seemed almost animated as he spoke about this other man. For the first time, his eyes had actually lit up a little as he talked about this doctor. She wondered awkwardly if Justin had developed feelings for this other man, even though at the time he had no way of knowing he was already deeply involved with someone else.

"Uh…..Justin. What does this man look like?" That seemed like a fairly safe way to try and gauge just what was going on between the two of them.

"He's a little older than me, dark hair, green eyes, a little shorter than Brian," he told her almost analytically. "He's got a good sense of humor – has sort of conservative taste, though, compared to Brian," he further added as his eyes took a quick sweeping glance around the loft, noting again the clean, modern lines of his partner's living space as opposed to the more traditional, antique style that Andrew's apartment had.

Daphne nodded as she studied her friend. This Andrew sounded almost like a carbon copy of Brian, only apparently a little younger and a little shorter. Had Justin subconsciously been drawn to this other man because he knew somehow he reminded him of Brian?

"He…sounds nice," she answered somewhat noncommittally. "He also sounds a lot like Brian," she observed to him.

She noticed Justin actually flush a little; apparently the same thought must have occurred to him as well. "Yeah…..I thought so, too, after I starting drawing pictures of Brian and seeing him in my dreams. Maybe somehow that's why I felt like I could trust Andrew when he suggested I move in with him. I mean, he was a doctor and all, but I really didn't know much about him when he asked if I wanted to stay with him for a while."

Daphne nodded as she listened to him. "Yeah….But he didn't really know you, either," she pointed out. "Why do you think he would agree to let a virtual stranger with no known background and no apparent means of support move in with him?" she asked him curiously.

She again saw Justin's face redden a little as he softly admitted, "I think it was because he was attracted to me." He recalled Andrew's previous admission to him about how he felt toward him, how he had comforted him after his bad dreams and about their one, brief surprising kiss that one night. He had not exactly rejected Andrew's kiss that night, at least not for a brief period of time – it had actually felt good to feel the other man's lips on his, even if it was probably more out of a need for comfort than anything else. During those times, was he subconsciously reliving similar moments he had had in the past with Brian and not realizing it at the time? He noticed with a start, just a little embarrassed, that Daphne was still looking at him as if she were waiting for him to continue. "I don't know, Daphne," he responded to what he thought was an unspoken question from her. "Maybe I was really thinking in the back of my mind that it was Brian and I didn't realize it at the time."

She nodded perceptively – I thought as much, too. "Makes a lot of sense to me," she assured him, trying to make him less self-conscious about his actions. "I take it, though, that this is why Brian doesn't exactly seem too happy at the mention of his name?"

Justin sighed, nodding. "Yeah….they sort of had an unpleasant encounter just before I left. Andrew wasn't convinced it was best for me to return here to Pittsburgh," he offered in explanation. "He thought it might actually do more harm than good somehow. But Brian convinced me otherwise. He thought since I was already processing some information in my head through my dreams and sketches that it would be best for me to return to the place where I was most comfortable and be surrounded by my friends in a familiar environment. When we got back, I offered to go and stay with my mother if it would be easier for Brian, but he wouldn't have any of that. He's insistent that I stay with him instead."

Daphne lightly slapped her head with his forehead in an aha moment. "Shit! Your mother!" She had completely forgotten temporarily about her. "I forgot! Your mother knows?"

Justin smiled at her. "Yeah – she was the first person Brian called to come over when we got back. He thought it was only right that she knew first. She…..was so happy to see me, Daphne." His smile faded somewhat, however, as he confided to her, "But I still didn't fucking remember her – my OWN mother, for God's sake!" He placed his head in his hands briefly as his body sagged and he supported himself on his knees. "She handled the news about my memory loss fairly well, but I could tell she was still disappointed. Even though I didn't remember her, it wasn't hard to figure THAT out." He shook his head now a little tearfully as he looked over at her, forlorn. "Sometimes it just gets so…overwhelming. The idea of it all; that I have so much to remember. And I remember so fucking little!" He continued a little more softly, "Sometimes I think Brian's going to get tired of dealing with it." He closed his eyes to try and prevent more tears from falling – he was so sick of feeling like a damn, scared little boy.

He felt a small, warm hand on his back as he looked up into the sympathetic, warm brown eyes of the woman he should recognize as his best friend, perhaps on some subconscious level did recognize as his best friend; after all, he had just told her some things he hadn't told anyone else, even Brian.

"Brian would NEVER get tired of dealing with you," she strongly advised him with conviction. "He loves you too much to ever do that – trust me." She continued to rub her hand softly up and down on his slender back, which she could feel trembling a little. "You didn't see him after he had heard the news about you," she told him. "His face, Justin. It was a haunted face, a lost face. A face full of hopelessness and despair, desolation. Shit, I don't think I have the words that are adequate to express to you how he looked and felt. God – I really think if it hadn't been for Gus, he would have done something drastic. Something irreversible – just to be reunited with you."

Justin looked over at her as he bit his lip in shock. His voice shook a little with emotion as he stammered out, "You mean…?"

He didn't have to finish the sentence. "YES," she replied, nodding. "I mean fucking kill himself. He didn't want to live without you, Justin. That's how much he loved you. How much he STILL loves you," she corrected herself. "If his love is enough to bring your memory back, then you have no problem," she stated flatly. "That man loves you like no one else – like no one else can."

Justin nodded, some tears now falling involuntarily down his cheeks as he whispered to her, "I know. Somehow I know. But will it be enough?" he asked her shakily, uncertainly.

She smiled at him tenderly, admitting, "I guess no one really knows. You just have to have faith that it will be, okay?"

Justin nodded, smiling back at her a little. He still didn't remember their past together, but he felt so comfortable around this petite, caring woman. It was no wonder they had bonded and become best friends together. Despite his loss of their past history, at that moment he felt so grateful that she was here with him and listening to his deepest fears. "Daphne?"

"Yes?" she answered gently, her eyes never leaving her friend's soft blue ones.

"Thank you for being here. You really are a good friend."

She smiled a little more broadly as her own eyes misted up now. She was confident that no matter what happened going forward, they would always be best friends somehow. "Anytime, Jus. That's what best friends are for."

Kinnetik – early Friday evening

"Hey!" Brian heard his assistant call out to him as he entered the building. "What are YOU doing here?"

He turned to see Cynthia walking out of his office. "What – I leave for a couple of days and you move into my executive suite?" he growled good-naturedly. He knew his loyal assistant of so many years would never do something like that; he actually trusted her implicitly by now.

Cynthia, of course, didn't take the bait; she knew her boss far too well for that. "Yeah – the interior decorators just left with some swatches for the new, lacy curtains I'm planning on putting up," she retorted smoothly. "The old boss was far too Spartan for MY taste."

Brian grimaced, twisting his face. "Yeah, I heard he can be a regular fucking tight ass," he cracked, smiling in that self-deprecating way he had on occasion.

Cynthia looked back at him shocked; this was the first time Brian had smiled or made any kind of joke since Justin had died. Since that time, her boss had looked more like one of the living dead. This man standing in front looked more rested and the light had actually returned to his hazel eyes. The fleck of gold was back in them, and his haunted, lost look had vanished from his face. What the hell had happened? "Brian?" she asked him questioningly, that single word encompassing so much in her tone. What had changed? What's going ON?

Brian smirked, about to see that look again on another one of Justin's friends. He knew how much his "death" had affected his assistant. In her own way, Cynthia had loved Justin just as much as HE did; not only that, he knew she respected his partner as well. His death had affected her almost as much as it had him.

"Are you the only one left here?" he asked her, not wanting for them to be interrupted.

She nodded. "Do you really think anyone else would be sticking around here this late on a Friday afternoon?" she retorted. Truth be told, she had been about ready to leave when Brian had unexpectedly arrived a few minutes ago; she was just wrapping up the results of Kinnetik's ad campaign pitches to Brown Athletics and Roadway Sports Equipment. At least, thank God, the meetings earlier had gone well, thanks in large part to Ted's assistance. She wasn't looking forward to Brian's reaction if they had managed to fuck them up in his absence; fortunately, she wasn't going to have to worry about that.

Brian grinned at her saucy comeback, which was pure Cynthia. "Come and sit down for a minute, then," he asked her, motioning toward his office with his hand. He made a mental note to arrange for a time later to talk to Theodore about this – and to apologize to his significant other, Blake. God, he hated apologies. He normally didn't even believe in them. But this was a special case – he would not be able to get out of THIS one this time.

"There's…..something I have to tell you. Something fucking incredible," he told his assistant, smiling more broadly now at her perplexed look. She continued to look at him in stunned amazement as she nonethless followed him into his office, at a complete loss as to just what had caused this unbelievable transformation in him.

As Cynthia sat down in a chair facing his desk, Brian diverted his path over to his nearby bar table and hurriedly fixed a shot of Beam. "Here," he said, bringing the hastily-made drink over to her and practically pushing it into her hand. "I think you're going to need this," he cracked.

As he sat down in his leather office chair, Cynthia's eyebrows narrowed in contemplation at his 180-degree turn of behavior. You could almost see the thought wheels turning over rapidly while she analyzed her boss to try and figure out just what was the cause of this miraculous transformation in him.

"Trust me, Cynthia, you're never going to figure THIS one out," he assured her as if he were reading her mind. "It's best I just come out and tell you what's going on instead, believe me."

Thirty minutes later, Cynthia had drunk the entire glass of Jim Beam and tears were falling down her cheeks in stunned but grateful disbelief. She finally found her voice after several minutes of merely being able to gasp at Brian's news and utter occasional I don't believe its and Oh, my Gods to say,"It's a miracle, Brian, an out and out fucking miracle," she told him, shaking her head as she tried to digest the incredible news. Brian had been right – she never in a million years, even a gazillion years, would have been able to guess what he had told her. But she was so thankful that she couldn't. She was also so thankful that a man she had come to admire and love for his creativity, passion, honesty and kindness had somehow been spared and would be on this earth hopefully for years and years to come. And she was also grateful – perhaps most of all – that her boss, her friend, wouldn't have to endure the rest of his life being separated from the only man who had been able to capture his heart and firmly hold onto it.

"What do they say are Justin's chances that he can regain his memory?" she asked him with concern. Justin was relatively young still, but she couldn't imagine literally having 23 years of your life just swept away in a virtual instant.

She saw Brian flinch a little at her question; apparently, this was also a concern of his as well. He sighed softly, his face more serious now as he told her truthfully, "They…don't know, Cynthia. No one seems to know. To quote the doctors, there's so little we know about the brain still," he replied, mockingly. "Fucking drivel if you ask me," he snorted. "I don't care what they think – he's going to regain his memory – I just know it." Internally, however, tendrils of doubt swirled around his mind. Please – let him remember everything. Let him remember what we mean to each other.

Cynthia looked over her boss, her friend, in sympathy. She could tell that despite Brian's strong words of bravado, he really wasn't any more sure of that than the doctors were. What she was really hearing was hope, not confidence. She wasn't going to point that out, however; she figured Brian needed all the encouragement he could get right now. At least, though, they were together. And Brian and Justin always were virtually unstoppable together. Silently she pleaded, let that be the same NOW – for BOTH their sakes.

"I'm sure you're right," Cynthia responded smoothly, smiling at him as she tried to convey her confidence in his statement. "It might just take a little time, that's all," she pointed out reasonably.

Brian nodded. "Just don't let Justin hear you say that," he cautioned her, twisting his lips under in amusement. "You know patience is not one of his strong points. Apparently that hasn't changed through all this."

Cynthia grinned. "No, I guess not," she agreed. "He won't hear it from me, then," she assured him, as another thought suddenly popped up in her head. She sat up in her chair straighter, almost as if she had been struck by lightning. "Blake!" she cried out in epiphany. "He was RIGHT, wasn't he?" she asked her boss perceptively. "Justin was here before? In Pittsburgh outside your club?" she added.

Brian nodded reluctantly. Cynthia never did let anything escape her notice – he supposed that was why she made such a good executive assistant. "Yeah…..," he admitted grudgingly. "It turns out he was right. It seems Justin had a bad dream one night about the bombing at Babylon and managed to persuade the person he was staying with to drive over here from Harrisburg to check it out. He got frustrated, though, when he arrived at the club and found out the name had been changed." Brian grimaced somewhat angrily at himself as he added, "I had changed the club's exterior so fucking much, Justin didn't even recognize it. And it was locked up tighter than a virgin on her wedding night," he cracked. "There was no way to get in the front and he had no memory of how to go around to the back. Blake just happened to see him just before the two of them left to return back to Harrisburg. Of course, at the time I thought there was no fucking way Blake could have possibly seen what he thought he saw." He shook his head at the knowledge that he had could have found out about Justin's survival that much sooner if he had only checked out Blake's impossible claim. "I guess you should never say never," he advised her softly, internally berating himself for not checking it out. "Looks like I'm about to do something I fucking hate," he admitted to her. "I'm going to have to apologize to him for that," he spat out somewhat distastefully. He felt he owed the guy that much; perhaps if Blake hadn't planted that impossible belief in his head, he would not have followed through on his gut feeling that the painting he had seen in Coleman's conference room was painted by his partner and not by the pseudonym name Justin had been using at the time.

Cynthia smiled at little at her boss' discomfort at having to apologize to Blake; she knew deep down he really didn't care, because the news behind his apology was so incredibly wonderful he wouldn't mind telling Blake and Ted the reason for his abrupt change in demeanor. She shook her head a little, still not quite believing what Brian had just told her. But one look at the spark back in his eyes and his more relaxed face told her it was true. "Brian, I can't begin to tell you how happy I am for you. How happy I am," she added, smiling. "That's just…incredible. Fucking miraculous."

Brian smiled back at her in return; yes it was fucking miraculous. And he would be grateful and astounded by that fact until the day he died. "I know," he told her softly. "I know."

The two shared a mutual look of friendship and gratitude before Brian rose from his chair and glanced at the clock above his door. "I'd better let you get out of here," he told her, motioning with his hand for her to get up. "Shit – it's almost 7. Go!" he gruffly scolded her, but there was almost affection in his voice. "I….need to get back to Justin anyway," he explained. "Daphne's with him, but I don't like to stay away from him for too long, just in case…you know." He was somewhat at a loss for words – he wasn't even sure himself what he was afraid of. He just knew that now that Justin was back where he belonged –alive – fuck, how long would it take to get used to that again? – he didn't want to be away from him any longer than he had to be.

Cynthia stood up now, too, saying, "Of course – I can understand that. But, Brian…..tell him I am so happy to know that's he alive. And tell him that he will recover completely, I just know that." Silently she prayed for both of her friends that that would be the case. But she also knew that no matter what, as long as they were together, somehow things would turn out okay for them. It always did.

Just before she turned to go, she heard her friend say, "I will, Cynthia. Thanks. For everything," he added sincerely. She nodded silently and quietly walked toward the outer door, leaving Brian standing in his office alone. He stood there in the hushed, still office for several seconds, the only sound coming from his breathing, before he, too, quietly walked toward his suite and closed the door. It was time to get back to the loft – back to what really counted.