Tuesday Morning – Jennifer's Condo

Jennifer softly opened the guestroom door just a crack to peer at her son; after she had heard him rustling around the room that was directly above hers last night, she was relieved to find that her son had finally fallen asleep. From the looks of the crumpled sheet and blanket, however, it appeared his body had fought the idea of rest for some time; his body was virtually wrapped up in the material so tightly that he resembled a mummy presently. Her son was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open as he breathed quietly. She sighed softly; at least while Justin was sleeping, he looked relatively calm and at peace.

Last night, however, had been a different story. Her son had shown up alone at her doorstep in late afternoon, the tears he had shed earlier still apparent on his beautiful but sad face. She had been surprised to see him, but one look at the desolate expression on his face and she had silently pulled him tightly into her arms and let his tears fall anew. She had continued to hold him for several minutes until his soft cries had subsided and his breathing had returned to more of a semblance of normalcy before she gently led him over to her couch to wait for him to explain his sudden appearance at her condo.

In between ragged, halting breaths, he had eventually managed to tell her about his and Brian's visit to Dr. Keller and what the neurologist had told them. Then he had described how he had persuaded Brian to give him some time alone at the loft, where he had made the heartbreaking decision to leave.

As she sat down on the couch to consider what her son had told her, she couldn't help thinking that he was making a mistake. She knew Justin was terribly confused and disoriented over what had happened to him, and she could tell how guilty he felt about not being able to reciprocate Brian's feelings toward him. She was always glad to help her son in any she could – that would never change, and she had felt relieved that he was comfortable enough to seek her out last night. But she couldn't help thinking he belonged with Brian, that only HE could make things right again. Did she really have the right, though, to tell her son that? After all, to Justin she was still a relative stranger; and even if he DID remember her, when it came down to it, it was still Justin's decision to make as to whom he wanted to be with.

As she quietly closed the door and walked back down toward the living room, she considered how this must be affecting Brian. The man was overwhelmed with grief when he had thought Justin had died; if there had ever been any question as to how he had felt about her son, his reaction to his partner's "death" would have banished any doubts in the worst skeptic. What reservations she might have had regarding the older man's intentions toward her son had long ago been swept away, anyhow, as she had observed the way he watched over and cared for Justin; she had realized a long time ago that Brian deeply loved him. She had witnessed such a dramatic change in Brian after he had discovered Justin was alive; the haunted, lost, bleak and hopeless visage he had worn after the accident had been replaced with a spark of hope and optimism. Justin's actions last night, however, must have swept that all away in an instant. She imagined that her son was not the only one who had experienced a sleepless night last night; she had no doubts that Brian was undergoing his own type of tortured pain at the moment in addition to her son.

She shook her head; it was times like these that she thought perhaps it might have been best if she had raised a son with more of a thick shell and an apathetic nature. Instead, she had managed to groom a young man who was too compassionate, sensitive and caring sometimes for his own good, not to mention stubborn with an independent streak. She knew Brian desperately wanted to help her son, for both of their sakes; if only her son would be patient and let Brian decide when he had had enough. Instead, Justin's nobility had gotten in the way and now here he was, with her but not necessarily where he belonged.

She heard a soft knock on her front door; glancing up the stairs to make sure Justin was still apparently asleep, she quietly hurried over to the door to open it. She wasn't surprised in the least to see that it was Brian; the only thing that surprised her was that he had managed to wait until morning to show up.

She noticed with concern that Brian hadn't appeared to have slept at all last night; his hair was mussed, he had uncharacteristic dark rings around his eyes and his clothes were actually wrinkled; typically on a work day, especially, the brunet would be dressed and groomed impeccably. "Brian," she murmured sympathetically. One look at the profound sadness in his eyes and she had to pull him into her arms for a hug; she heard him huff out a ragged breath of air as his own arms slowly wrapped themselves around her back in return. They stood that way for several seconds before they mutually broke off their embrace. "Come in," Jennifer softly instructed him; he appeared to hesitate for a few seconds as he looked around the living room, obviously searching for his partner, before he followed Jennifer over to the nearby couch. She noticed he had brought with him a large, black duffle bag and a flat art portfolio which he placed by the side of the couch.

"Can I get you some coffee?" she asked him, as she began to get up to fetch it.

"No, Jennifer," Brian responded quietly. "Thanks, but no. I've had too many cups this morning all ready." She watched Brian look around the room again.

"He's…upstairs in the guest room," she volunteered in answer to his unspoken question. "I don't think he got to sleep actually until a little while ago. I just checked on him a few minutes ago, though, and he was asleep then."

Brian looked down at his lap before he glanced over at her. Justin had to have told her something when he had arrived yesterday evening, but just how much had he confided in this woman who still only held the title of mom in name only? "How is he?" he asked her quietly.

Her eyes softened at his plaintive tone. "He's upset," she said simply. "He told me about your visit with Dr. Keller and how he didn't give him much encouragement that anything would change for the better. And he told me how guilty he felt about not being able to feel the same way about you that you feel about him." She sighed in frustration. "I am so sorry, Brian. I know Justin feels terrible and thinks he's somehow taking advantage of you, but honestly? I think he's making a big mistake just giving up like this." She laughed softly. "I never thought I would say this when the two of you first met, but he belongs with you. He's letting his nobility get in the way. My son has always been such a fighter, and for some reason when it comes to the most important thing in his life now, he's just giving up. What is wrong with him?"

Brian reached over to take her hand as he briefly gave it a squeeze before letting it go. "Don't be so hard on him, Jennifer. I think he's just scared. Scared of what he might never have again, and scared that he'll hurt me even more than he feels he already has." He snorted ironically. "What he doesn't realize is that I can't be hurt much more than I fucking hurt already, because he's not with ME." He rubbed his hands over his face. "How can I make him understand that I want to be with him, no matter what? Yeah, I want him to remember how we used to be – and yeah, I fucking miss it. I miss the closeness, the bond…..the love," he added softly, almost in embarrassment. "And, yeah, I'm tired, too, just like him. It's hard work rebuilding what we used to have. But we've got to try! How else will we ever know if we can be successful if he just gives up? Jennifer, you have to help me make him understand that I don't want to be with him out of obligation – I want to be with him because I fucking LOVE him!" He shook his head in disbelief that his previously persistent, stubborn, never-give-up partner could be doing just that – throwing his hands up in virtual surrender. Had Justin's accident changed him that much? He still could draw, he still was the same sensitive, sweet, compassionate person he had always been – could his determination, his will to carry on in extreme adversity have really changed that much? Brian just couldn't believe that was the case; now all he had to do was convince his partner of that. He stood up and began to pace in short strides in front of the couch; his sleepless night had somehow imbued him with a sort of restless energy that made it hard to him to sit still for long.

"Brian, I agree with you," Jennifer assured him. "Maybe he was just being impulsive when he decided to leave last night; maybe he just needs some time alone to think, to decide what he wants to do from here. He's so young – he's got his whole life ahead of him. But he's going to have to figure out how to move on with the reality that he's got, not the life he wishes he still had."

"You mean without me." Brian phrased it as a statement, not a question, because apparently Justin had already decided that noble cause notwithstanding, he was best being alone – without HIM.

"No, that's not what I mean at ALL," Jennifer insisted, as she stood up and walked over to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders to try and get him to be still long enough to listen to what she was trying to say. "Listen to me, okay?" She waited until Brian raised his head finally to meet her gaze and nodded. "I don't mean that he will decide to go it alone – but if he doesn't ever get his past memories back, he'll have to move on with what he has retained only since the accident. That doesn't mean he won't want you in his life still. The two of you might, unfortunately though, have to become familiar with each other all over again." At his look of dismay, she hastily tried to add, "That might not necessarily be a bad thing, Brian. Just think of all the mistakes the two of you made in the past that you could work on correcting now." She had meant for her statement to come out as a teasing remark, but she found that there was a kernel of truth to it; perhaps if Brian felt he had to prove his love to Justin all over again, maybe he would learn to be more upfront and just a little more outspoken about his feelings. Although she knew her son shared part of the blame for their sometimes rocky relationship in the past, it had still been Brian's reluctance to tell Justin how he really felt about him that had helped push her son away in the first place when he had left with Ethan temporarily in a quest to find what he already HAD; it just hadn't known it at the time.

What Jennifer didn't know, however, was that Brian had begun to do just that once he had been reunited with his partner; he had been trying hard to not only show Justin how he felt, but TELL him, also; unfortunately, it hadn't appeared to be enough to keep them together.

Jennifer stared sympathetically at this man who still loved her son deeply, and was clearly distraught over the two of them being apart; it was obvious that Brian had hardly slept last night, not only in his dress but also the exhaustion in his voice. At least her son and Brian had that in common at the moment. "Brian," she whispered softly as he reached up to lightly caress his cheek. "Why don't you go back home and try to get some rest?" she suggested. "I think you both could use some of that right now." As she noticed him opening his mouth, no doubt to protest, she assured him, "I promise I will keep an eye on him while he's here. I can work at home most of the time except for an occasional showing."

Brian wasn't sure he liked that answer; deep down what he had been hoping for was to come over here and get a chance to talk with Justin, perhaps even convince him to come back home; because to him, his loft was just a cold, foreboding place without his partner in it. That was the main reason why he couldn't go back there after he had thought that Justin had died; it held way too many memories of the two of them together. Finding himself alone again in that space last night after Justin had left had brought back all those horrible memories of before, and it was all he could do to stay there without his partner. And there had been no fucking way he could sleep in their bed; not without feeling that warm, familiar, sweet body lying spooned up so perfectly against him. He had sat on the couch last night after finding Justin's note, his body literally aching for his partner's touch, for the sound of his gentle voice, for those blue eyes that could always say so much with one intense look. All he heard or saw, however, was the harsh light of Pittsburgh's skyline at night and the cacophonous sounds of an occasional siren blaring below. And now Jennifer wanted him to just go home and try to rest? If the situation hadn't been so bleak looking at the moment, he would have almost found her well-meaning statement funny. He definitely didn't feel like laughing right now, however. "Jennifer….." he tried one more time to make her understand. "I need to talk to him." Talk to him, hold him, convince him I love him and will go ON loving him until I no longer have any breath left in me. Brian was a proud man, but that did not stop him from whatever he needed to do to see his partner. "Please….." He knew he sounded desperate, but damn it, he was. He could feel Justin slipping away from him, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute like the sands in an hourglass; and the prospect of that filled him with an insurmountable amount of pain and grief, almost as if Justin really HAD died that day.

Jennifer hesitated at the sound of distress in Brian's voice; she was torn between her son's request for space and some much needed rest versus this man's desire to see her son and talk to him, even touch him. She knew how devastated Brian had been when he had thought Justin had died; could she handle disappointing him yet again by keeping him away from her son? She almost caved in as she looked at the urgent look of longing in his face; but she had to protect her son's health and honor his wishes, which he had made clear last night. He had adamantly told her that he needed to be alone to think, to consider what his next step should be. He had made her promise that if Brian happened to come over – which he told her he had no doubt that he would – she should politely but firmly turn him away until he had time to think about what he needed to do. He had told her it was time to face facts and decide what he should do with the rest of his life, and that he couldn't keep leaning on Brian for support. He had also told her he could not deal with Brian feeling like he had to stay with him out of a sense of obligation, although she doubted that was the real reason why Brian wanted Justin to stay with him. Simply put, this man loved her son and couldn't consider a life without him. She let out a sigh; when did her son's relationship with the man he had adored for so long get so complicated? And when would the two of them be able to be truly happy together without this latest chapter of melodrama interfering with their lives?

"Brian," she whispered fondly; she had eventually grown to love this man just like he WAS her son-in-law; it didn't matter anymore if he and Justin had an official paper saying married or not. "I'm sorry, really I am, but Justin made it clear he wants some time alone, and I promised to honor his wishes. He just needs a few days to think things through and decide what to do from here." She pressed on as Brian gave her a look clearly broadcasting that he found that possibility completely unacceptable; his need to see her son was almost palpable in its intensity. She wouldn't back down, though; call it a mother's protective instinct, regret over not spending enough time with Justin before, or her hope of re-establishing her bond with her son – she really didn't know what it was. She only knew he had asked her for this one wish, and she was going to obey it, despite the fact that she didn't necessarily agree with it.

Brian huffed out a sound of frustration; he could just push by her and walk up the steps to Justin's room to demand he talk to him and get this whole ridiculous situation straightened out. However, he somehow knew this would make things worse; when Justin was stubborn and Brian pushed him on his feelings, it always made Justin push back harder. He had a good idea this would not be an exception, lost memory or not. He nervously pushed back a lock of errant hair out of his eyes and bit his lip, trying to gauge what his next move should be.

He sighed in resignation finally as Jennifer gazed back at him intently, not entirely immune to his indecision; she had to know this wasn't sitting well with him, but he also knew like a lioness defending her cub, she wasn't going to back down. "Okay, Jennifer," he eventually agreed. "We'll play by your son's rules for now. But you tell him that just because he doesn't want to talk to me right now DOESN'T mean I'm giving up on us. That is NOT going to happen." He glanced up the stairs one more time, hoping in some way that Justin would miraculously appear right now at the landing to tell him he had changed his mind, that he wanted to see him and even better, go back home with him; he was not surprised but disappointed nonetheless to see that no one was there.

Jennifer grasped one of his hands as she leaned up to hug this man who had changed so much since he and her son had first met. Had he really changed, though? She thought perhaps he had always cared about and even loved his friends before – he had just had a difficult time showing it and admitting to it. What Justin had done, though, was something beyond that – he had shown Brian Kinney was it felt like to be in love; now there was a chance that the special relationship the two of them had forged so strongly might be in jeopardy. She somehow had to help ensure that didn't happen.

"I won't give up on you two, either," Jennifer whispered softly in his ear, "I promise, Brian."

As the two broke their embrace, Brian looked down at her, his eyes softening a little in affection for this lady who had come to accept him as a member of her own family. He pondered how their relationship had changed over the years, from wary combatants to a deep respect, admiration and even love for each other. Of course, the one element that had helped create this stronger relationship was the one part that was presently broken; he vowed, though, partly with Jennifer's support, to change that.

He nodded at her and smiled sadly. He walked over a few feet to pick up the duffle bag and art portfolio he had retrieved from the loft; he knew that Justin wouldn't have remembered to pack any additional clothes in his haste to leave, and he figured his partner no longer kept any art supplies at Jennifer's condo. If Justin was determined to be alone for a few days, he could at least make the time for him easier hopefully. Also, he knew what Justin normally gravitated to in times of stress or pain – his art. He knew that Justin would need that to rely on right now. He only hoped that when his partner's self-imposed period of reflection was over, he would make the right decision – the ONLY decision in Brian's mind: to come back to him and work toward repairing their relationship.

"Here," he said, placing the two objects in Jennifer's hands. "He'll need this," he said softly.

She nodded appreciatively. "That was very thoughtful of you, Brian. I'll see that he gets it."

Just before he turned to go, he added one more thing. "I'll be over at Kinnetik for a while. Tell him to call me, though, okay?"

Jennifer's heart broke a little at the sad but hopeful tone in his voice. "I will," she told him. But I can't promise you anything right now, Brian. This is a journey my son has to decide how to take on his own.

He nodded in acknowledgement of her agreement before he turned and headed toward the door. As Jennifer watched him go, she shook her head sadly, her thoughts in a jumble at she thought of the complicated, entangled mess that had abruptly reared its head.

Justin stood at the bedroom window as he watched Brian leave; he had awakened several minutes earlier to the sound of quiet conversation filtering up from downstairs. He didn't have to hear what was actually being said to know who was speaking; he had half-expected Brian to march upstairs and demand to see him. He was half-disappointed, half-relieved to see that he had been incorrect. He longed to see his partner again, to be held in his strong, comforting arms, but he also needed some time to himself, and with Brian nearby that was almost impossible. Brian had been so wonderful to him, and so supportive; but he was becoming almost TOO protective, shielding him to the point where he couldn't think. And there was so much to think about. Where he was going to live, what he was going to do to support himself, where his life was going to take him - a life that now seemed destined to proceed without the advantage of his previous memories to shape it.

Oddly, once he had finally been able to get to sleep in the early pre-dawn hours, he had slept fitfully but dreamlessly; ironically, any other night and he would have had at least one dream that was tied somehow to his repressed past; last night, however, perhaps because he couldn't get his mind to fully rest, he had awakened without any recollection of having dreamed anything at all. He continued to stand at the window for a few minutes after his partner had grudgingly left; he could tell by Brian's slow walk to his car and his hesitation in opening up the driver's side door to get in that he really didn't want to leave. Justin recalled the moment last night when he had finally made the painful decision to write Brian a note and leave; he knew it was a cowardly way to do it, but he also knew that if he had waited for Brian to return to the loft, he never would have had the strength to leave. One look at Brian's reaction and his willpower would have evaporated instantly.

He was thankful when he had shown up at his mother's condo that she hadn't peppered him with a lot of questions, but had instead waited patiently until he was ready to talk. And once he did open up, talk he did; the emotions and worries had poured out of him like a cascade of sorrow, guilt and regret. After he had finished, he hadn't really resolved anything - he still felt terribly tortured for what he was putting Brian though, especially - but in an odd way it had been somewhat cathartic. Just having a sympathetic ear in the form of his mother had made what had seemed an unsurmountable situation just a little easier to bear. Nothing was solved, but at least at his mother's he could have some space to reflect and contemplate how to move on in his life which was virtually at a standstill at the moment.

Justin emerged a few minutes later from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist; as he re-entered the bedroom, however, he noticed a large, black duffle bag sitting on top of the bed. Walking over to unzip it, he realized it contained several items of clothing that, judging from their size and the relative inexpensive look of them, must have belonged to him. He smirked a little - there was no way that Brian would have been caught dead in these brands of clothing. Assuming he would have to rewear the same clothes he had left in last night, he gratefully searched through the clean, fresh clothing to locate a long-sleeved tee shirt, blue jeans, briefs, and socks before slipping his sneakers back on.

Dressed now in a clean assemble and newly-showered, he still didn't feel very uplifted but at least the change in apparel and shower had served to help him feel a little more at ease. He opened the bedroom door and quietly walked down the steps to find his mother in the open kitchen, pouring herself some hot, steaming water into a mug for tea.

Jennifer looked up at her son's approach to smile at him softly. "You're awake," she greeted him. "I thought you would sleep in a little later." She knew he hadn't fallen asleep until just a short while ago and was surprised to see him up so soon; she knew how emotionally upset he had been last night and how hard it had been for him to get to sleep eventually. "Would you like some tea or coffee?" She grinned a little self-deprecatingly. "I sound kind of like a stewardess, don't I?'

He shook his head but smiled at her in return. "That's okay...I WILL take some coffee, though."

"It's right over there," she answered, pointing over to a nearby coffeemaker with an extra mug nearby. Justin walked the few feet over to the coffeemaker to pour himself a cup and scoop some sugar and a little creamer into it. As he stirred the contents with a spoon, he said softly, "I saw Brian leave a little while ago."

Jennifer looked over at her son and asked him quietly in a neutral tone, "You did?"

"Yeah. I heard the two of you talking earlier and walked over to the window to make sure it was him I had heard."

"I'm sorry if we woke you up," she told her son, not really sure how he felt about Brian coming over this morning. "We were trying to be quiet."

He shook his head as he carried his mug over to the nearby kitchen table and sat down. "It's okay...Actually, you weren't that loud. I guess I wasn't really sleeping that soundly," he admitted to her. Justin had far too many things on his mind to really be able to sleep well lately, especially after leaving Brian's loft last night. "Is Brian okay?" He almost was afraid to ask, but he had to know.

Jennifer pondered her answer; Justin was already feeling quite guilty about his decision to leave Brian, and was filled with regret over his inability to reciprocate his partner's feelings equally. How much, then, should she divulge about her conversation with Brian earlier? Too much and Justin would feel even MORE guilty; too little and he wouldn't really appreciate the depth of Brian's feelings for him, as well as his determination to repair their fractured relationship. She finally decided on an honest, however shortened version.

"He's worried about you. And...he still loves you and wants you to come back. He misses you, Honey. But he's also willing to give you some time to think things over, if you feel you need that." I just hope you don't take too long - for BOTH your sakes. She bit back her opinion that she thought her son was making a big mistake leaving Brian; she was afraid if she tried to influence her son TOO much, he would wind up resenting her intrusion and regret his decision to come and stay with her. If he wasn't comfortable staying with Brian, she much preferred Justin be here with her than living somewhere else out of her sight.

Justin inhaled a shaky breath; he figured that would be Brian's response to his leaving, and it just served to make him feel even more terrible about what he had done. But he felt it was necessary; he HAD to figure out what to do, now that his memory was apparently gone forever. Despite his fervent wish to regain his past history, it appeared in all probability that that was now just a fading dream. If he was to move forward, it would have to start in the here and now, NOT the past.

"I know he's worried about me, Mom. And I DO care about Brian. He's been wonderful since I returned to Pittsburgh. It's just that..." he was finding the right words difficult to come up with. "It's not right for me to depend on him for everything. It's not fair to him OR to me. If this is the way it's going to be - if I'm never going to get my past memories back - then I have to figure out how to move on from HERE. Begin fresh."

She sat down opposite him at the table. "You mean without Brian?" she asked him pointedly, almost dreading his response. If her fiercely independent son was determined to move on wihout his partner, she would have to make her opinion known, because without this man, she truly thought her son's life would be empty. Justin may not realize that yet, but SHE did. Or was she simply looking at his situation from their previous standpoint? Could he be happy without Brian if he really didn't understand what the man had meant to him? Whose standpoint was she looking from - her son's or Brian's?

Justin closed his eyes for a few seconds, afraid to look his mother in the eye. "I...don't know," he answered honestly. He sighed. "I honestly don't know. But ever since I got back, Brian has practically been glued to my side. He's barely left me and has been virtually ignoring Kinnetik. And in spite of what he says about his other employees taking care of his company, his presence is necessary to its success. I'm sure when you're a big, influential client, you don't want to be seen by some flunkie - you want to be taken care of by the President and CEO - BRIAN." He looked across the table at his mother, who was listening intently. "I don't want to be the cause of his business tanking because he feels this need to take care of me. I won't have him jeopardizing his success at the expense of watching over ME." Justin already felt guilty enough - if Kinnetik started to go over because of him, too, he could never forgive himself.

Jennifer looked at her son sadly - her poor, sensitive, guilt-ridden son. Such a heavy burden to carry on such slim shoulders. How could these two ever repair what they had lost? There didn't seem to be any starting point to draw upon - the whole situation was so messed up. Maybe the only thing she could do was just be there for both of them. "I wish I had all the answers for you," she told him truthfully, "but I don't. No one does, Honey. You just have to take things one day at a time and do what you feel is best for you -for both of you." She reached over to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "I will help you anyway I can. Just...don't make any hasty judgments, Sweetheart. Give it some time. You can stay here as long as you need to."

Justin smiled at her thankfully. "Thanks...Mom." The endearment still sounded stiff and awkward, but the beaming smile he received in return made it a little easier to say at least. "I appreciate that." He looked around the room thoughtfully. "I think it's time I find a way to support myself, though. What did I used to do before I left here?" he asked her curiously. From what Brian had told him before, he had been fairly self-sufficient, successful even, with his art once he had established himself in New York; but he couldn't just live off his accumulated savings forever. He needed to at least find something to occupy his time in between his paintings being sold and new ones being created. And truthfully, he needed something to occupy his mind - this constant agonizing over his current situation was counterproductive and mentally exhausting.

"Well, I think you have more than enough to live on for several months, maybe a few years even, but if you really want to work, you've had experience working at the Liberty Diner waiting on customers and you and Michael worked on a graphic comic before - he came up with the words and ideas and you provided the artwork."

Justin frowned, surprised. "I did?" he verified; this was the first he had heard about either job - they both seemed like such opposites of each other. "Was I any good at them?" he asked curiously.

She smiled. "Yes, actually, you were; I would expect nothing less of my son," she teased gently. "You were quite popular with the diners at the deli - especially the guys, of course, but the ladies didn't complain, either. And Rage was quite successful - you and Michael almost managed to get it turned into a movie."

Justin was stunned. Their comic had been so good that someone had wanted to make a movie out of it? "Rage - that was the name of the comic book? And someone actually wanted to make it into a movie?" He was floored by that revelation; he couldn't believe something amateurish like that could have warranted the attention of a movie producer.

"Yes - the two of you were billing it as the first gay comic on the market. And the Hollywood guy who got wind of it was so interested in turning it into a movie that he had you come out to Los Angeles to help produce the storyboards for it."

"Wow," Justin was shocked and in disbelief. "What happened?"

"He eventually lost funding for it and had to scrap it," she told him regretfully; she had sorely missed her son while he had been gone, but she was also disappointed for him when he had had to return to Pittsburgh without the movie being done. At the time, he had told everyone how artificial everything and everyone was in LA, but he had told her the truth privately - he had absolutely loved it. The only part he told her that he had missed was Brian - the man he now was estranged from in an ironic twist of fate.

As Justin tried to digest that new piece of information regarding his past life, he tried furiously to force his mind to recall any of the time his mother was alluding to; again, to his profound disappointment, nothing surfaced. "What about the diner?" he asked abruptly, trying to change the subject to avoid torturing himself over yet another unsuccessful attempt to remember his past.

Jennifer replied, "Well, the comic and the potential movie obviously were more lucrative, but you pretty much were a favorite at the diner - you told me you always made good tips there. And received more than your share of "attention." I imagine if you really wanted to go back to work there, Debbie would be more than happy to put a good word in for you." Justin apparently didn't fully comprehend just how successful he had been in New York over the past year; he had more than enough to live on quite comfortably for the next year or two. But if her son felt he needed something to occupy his mind which was no doubt churning with all sorts of emotion, perhaps the diner might be a start. The only concern she had, however, was how his sudden appearance would affect the diners. Could Justin handle the tremendous notoriety his miraculous rise from the dead would no doubt generate?

"Justin..." she began hesitantly. She knew her son was getting tired of being coddled, but this was important. "You realize if you ask Debbie to come back to work at the diner that you're going to run into all kinds of people who will be shocked by your reappearance. Are you sure you're going to be able to handle that? You DID tell me that Dr. Keller warned you about not overwhelming yourself." She noticed her son's resentment beginning to appear on his face as she hastily added, "I'm just trying to be proactive here. I know how much you were hounded before after the Prom. You had a really hard time dealing with that." At least without Brian's help, the though came unbidden to her mind.

Justin was about to retort with a snappy comeback, but he reconsidered. He hated being reminded about his so-called fragile state; it made him sound like a little, handicapped child rather than a successful, up and coming artist. But as much as he hated to admit it, his mother had a point. If he started working at the diner again - a place where he was apparently very well-known - he was bound to be the center of attention. Did he really want to re-emerge into Pittsburgh in that obvious a manner? Yet again it seemed like a perfectly reasonable plan had been shot to hell in a heartbeat. Would he ever be able to return to any sense of normalcy?

He sighed. "Maybe you've got a point," he reluctantly admitted. "But what am I supposed to do? Just sit upstairs in my fucking room, praying that somehow my memory will miraculously return and I can just go back to life the way it was? That's NOT going to happen, Mom. What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

She silently stewed over that dilemma until she came up with an idea. "Maybe what you've always done, Honey, when you've needed to express your feelings...Paint." She stood up and walked over to the side of the couch to pick up something. As Justin watched, she returned with an object he immediately recognized as an art portfolio holder. "Where did you get that?" he asked her curiously; he knew it hadn't been there last night. Of course, the words were no sooner out of his mouth than he already knew the answer: Brian. "HE brought that over this morning, didn't he?" he asked his mother softly. "Along with the clothes."

She nodded as she placed the portfolio on the table. "Yes," she verified softly. She smiled wistfully as she gazed at him. "He loves you so much, Justin. Give him a chance, won't you? Give both of you a chance." She had promised to try and stay impartial but she couldn't help it - she knew somehow that Brian held the key to her son's happiness, whether he realized it or not.

"Mom..."

"I know, I know...I promised myself I wouldn't intrude or influence you...at least I promised that to myself. But if you could have just seen him, Honey..."

"Mom, I know what this is doing to him, okay? I fucking know...Don't you think it's affecting me too? But I'm trying to see the bigger picture here - I need some time to think and HE needs time, too. To keep his company afloat and to consider what's best for him. Please try to understand," he beseeched her. He felt bad enough without her reiterating to him how this was affecting his partner - he already painfully knew that.

Jennifer bit her lip in frustration; she wanted to help Justin AND Brian so much, but unfortunately it was out of her control. She sighed then. "All right, Honey. I'll back off - for now. I can't promise, though, that I won't throw my two cents worth in from time to time, okay?"

He grimaced a little before just the hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Okay," he told her somewhat hesitantly. "As long as you realize it's MY decision to make...deal?"

"Deal." she said, but she noticed her son wasn't listening to her; it was as if he had zoned out or something. "Justin?" she asked him, concerned; her son had a sort of faraway look on his face as he tried to concentrate on something. "What is it?"

But Justin wasn't listening to her; instead, he was listening to a conversation taking place inside his head between him, Brian, and another man he recognized by now as Michael, Brian's best friend and his apparent co-hort on the Rage comic book. In his mind's eye, he could see the three of them inside Brian's loft. There were papers everywhere - white sheets of paper that were on the floor and hanging up by wooden pins as if they were items of clothing held up to dry. Only these items contained drawings and cartoon bubbles. In his vision, Brian was telling the two of them that he would provide them with an internet advertising campaign for Rage that would make every gay fag in Pittsburgh want one. He had ended his sales pitch by asking them he would do that if they wanted him to, and then he had asked them simply, "deal?"

And in his mind, he could clearly hear himself and Michael echoing the same word back at him: "deal." Just like his mother had just asked him. He had remembered that, as clearly as he was standing there right now.

"Justin?" He slowly realized his mother was speaking to him and he came back to the present with a start. "Are you okay?" she asked him, staring at him intently.

He smiled then. "Yeah," he assured her. "Yeah...I'm okay." He slowly rose and reached over to pull the portfolio toward him. "I...think I'll go paint for a while."