Harrisburg General Hospital – Early Afternoon

Justin lifted his head as he heard a quick knock on his door; looking toward the sound, he noticed a slightly older man entering the room. He was an attractive brunet with hazel-colored eyes and a lean, toned frame. The other man smiled slightly at him as he reached out a tanned arm to shake Justin's hand; Justin noticed that the other man's hand was surprisingly soft but firm. "I'm Dr. Bradley," he advised fluidly, as he sat down next to the bed on one of the visitor's chairs. "I understand Michelle has taken it upon herself to name you," he added with amusement.

Justin found himself unexpectedly blushing at the other man's pointed stare. He took a few seconds to calm himself before verifying, "Yeah – she thinks I look like a Jacob Martin, whatever that means." He found himself smiling back at the other man, despite his predicament. For some reason, this stranger resonated with him somehow and gave him a puzzling sense of déjà vu. Registerng that in the back of his relatively empty mind (at least when it came to his memory), he tried to concentrate on what the doctor was saying.

"I'm actually a resident here," Dr. Bradley explained. "I'm assigned to do rounds for patients from the emergency room. I have ordered a CAT scan and MRI of your brain to try and hopefully pinpoint the cause of your memory loss. I have also asked one of our neurosurgeons, a Dr. Michaels, to consult with me on the results of your tests. With your permission, I will go ahead and schedule the two tests for later today." Dr. Bradley peered at the patient with interest; not only because of the relative rarity of his medical condition, but also if he was honest with himself, because he was unexpectedly attracted to the blond-haired, blue-eyed man staring back at him intently listening to his every word.

He deliberately pushed his personal feelings aside and tried to concentrate on his conversation with his patient, he reminded himself. "If you're okay with that strategy, Mr. Martin, I will need your signature on these consent forms." He reached out his clipboard to steady it for the other man to sign; as their hands brushed against each other, the doctor felt a slight jolt of electricity pass between them. Clearing his throat as his patient signed the form under his pseudo name, he nodded his head slightly in satisfaction. "Good," he replied, as he stood up to make initial preparations for the tests. "As soon as I get the results, I'll come back up to discuss them with you. Mr. Martin," he acknowledged, nodding, as he turned and walked briskly out of the room. What the hell is wrong with me?, he wondered. He never had that reaction to a patient before. He shook his head in an apparent attempt to erase the brief surge of electricity he had felt earlier when they had accidentally touched before he sought out Michelle to instruct her to schedule his patient for his tests.

Pittsburgh – Early Afternoon

Brian stood tentatively at the door to Jennifer's condo before he drew a deep breath and let it out. Knocking, he waited anxiously for her to open the door. After several seconds, he heard a lock being slid back before the door opened; Jennifer's red-rimmed eyes mirrored Brian's own as the two wordlessly embraced at the entranceway for several seconds before Brian sighed and broke their hold. Jennifer reached up both of her slender hands, so like Justin's, to tenderly cradle Brian's cheeks. She gently used her thumbs to wipe away tears that had abruptly freed themselves from his eyes; once he had locked eyes with his lover's mother, he was now helpless to prevent them from falling.

"Come in, Brian," she softly whispered with a slight smile of affection. She gently grasped his hand and pulled him slowly into the living room. "Sit down….please," she beseeched him, her cultured manners instinctively taking over, despite her grief. He looked around tentatively before accepting a seat at the far end of the couch near the stuffed chair Jennifer had chosen to sit on.

They sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence for several seconds, both unsure what to say or do, before Jennifer finally ventured to speak, barely above a whisper. "Molly's gone to stay with my parents for a while," she volunteered in answer to Brian's unspoken question about how quiet it seemed in the condo. Brian merely nodded his head in understanding, but continued to remain silent. "I think it's for the best," she finally added. "She's pretty broken up over…this," was all she could say. She hung her head in her hands, elbows on her knees, as she looked down at the floor to try and compose herself. Since hearing about Justin yesterday, she had cried what had to be a million tears over his death; even so, she still felt numb when she tried to accept the reality of the situation; the reality that she would never see her fun-loving, effervescent son again. Never see his beaming smile or see his face light up when he had finished a painting that had no doubt once again been inspired by the man sitting a few feet away from her. The man who was certainly in as much, if not more pain, than she was at the moment. The man who had changed her son irrevocably forever, and who had been changed by her son as well – for the better. Now, she didn't know what would happen to either one of them without him as their anchor.

"Would you like some coffee or something to eat, Brian?" she asked him softly. "I have a feeling you haven't eaten anything since yesterday." Brian simply shook his head no; the last thing on his mind right now was food, even though his stomach had been complaining of an empty feeling since the awful news had been reported yesterday; he just wasn't sure if the empty feeling was due to lack of food or the loss of his partner. In either case, he certainly couldn't bring himself to eat at the moment.

"How are you doing?" Brian finally asked her gently; he wasn't really sure why he had felt a need to come here; perhaps it was due to some irrational hope that he could somehow sense Justin's presence in this place, even though his partner hadn't ever lived here after his parents had split up and he had moved in with him at the loft instead. Perhaps it was more like he needed to be with someone who had loved Justin as much as HE had. Only someone like that would truly understand the depth of his despair right now, and the piercing, stabbing pain he was constantly feeling that tortured his every waking thought and restless dream.

She grimaced slightly. "Probably about the same as you," she observed candidly, as she scanned his haggard, drawn face and bloodshot, listless eyes that would normally be full of fire and spark. "I haven't slept a wink since yesterday," she admitted tearfully. "Every time I close my eyes I see him. I hear him. His laugh. His smile. His voice." She sniffled as she reached over to pull out what must have been the hundredth tissue out of a nearly empty Kleenex box. Dabbing her eyes slightly, she looked over at Brian's defeated posture and added pointedly, "I imagine you've been doing the same."

Brian swallowed the lump in his throat; it had constricted severely as Jennifer had mentioned her son's smile, voice, and laugh; these were all things Brian was desperately missing as well, along with the feel and smell of her son. His touches and kisses. His passion for love and for life in general. All those things that were distinctly and uniquely Justin. All those things he would never have, and would miss for the rest of his life. He took a ragged breath and sighed. What had Debbie said earlier? Take one step and put one foot out in front of the other. Go on – in tribute of him. What a fucking tribute, he joked inwardly as he shook his head dejectedly.

He was so intent on thinking about Justin that it startled him somewhat when he heard Jennifer speak softly again. "I've been thinking….." she tentatively began. She glanced over a little hesitantly at Brian before continuing. "I think it would be fitting if we had some type of memorial service for him." She just couldn't bring herself to say Justin's name out loud; it was as if not saying it would somehow still make it all a bad dream that he wasn't actually gone, even though she knew logically that he was. It was still just too painful to acknowledge it out loud. "What do you think of that?" she asked her son's partner, keenly interested in his opinion. Obviously there would be no funeral without a body; but the least they could do was conduct some sort of celebration of his life.

Brian bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. He knew rationally that it made sense to hold a memorial service of some type for Justin; but his heart still refused to accept that he was actually gone. How could he sit through a memorial service, then? How could he sit there while Justin's family and friends all stood up, one by one, to point out his partner's good qualities and say how much they'll miss him? It was all too much, too soon. There was no way he could sit through that, no way that he could find himself left with a blown-up, enlarged picture of the man he loved on an fucking easel next to a preacher's pulpit, no way that he could mourn in public for what he would never have again. Agitated for some inexplicable reason, he abruptly stood up as Jennifer gazed up at him, puzzled. "Brian?" she simply said, as she reached out to clasp his hand. After a couple of seconds, Brian returned her grasp.

"You do what you need to do, Jennifer," he responded softly. "I respect your wishes. But I just can't sit through that. I just can't," he repeated, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I…I think I'd better go now," he added, as he gently separated his hand from hers. "If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know. You have my cell number," he advised. "Any time….you call me, okay?"

She smiled slightly in affection for this man who had captured her son's heart so deeply. She knew how much he was hurting as well. She also understood that Brian had to mourn in his own way, just as she had to mourn differently. Nodding, she simply replied, "Thanks. You do the same." She stood up briefly to place a quick kiss on his cheek. "I worry about you….You know, I think of you as my son-in-law. It never had to be written down on a piece of paper," she solemnly stated, echoing a similar statement her son had once made to him, just before he left for New York.

He curled his lips under to try and prevent more tears from flowing at her unexpected show of compassion in spite of her own deep pain. He merely nodded, too afraid to try and verbally voice his gratitude, before he slowly turned and walked toward the door to leave. As he opened the door, he turned around for one more brief look at her before he slowly closed it and walked back to Michael waiting for him in his 'Vette. One foot in front of the other…..one step at a time. Sighing, he straightened his shoulders slightly before entering the passenger side of the car.

Justin waited somewhat impatiently in the patient waiting room for his name to be called for the CAT scan and MRI tests. The room was adjacent to what appeared to be a children's playroom for the younger patients housed at the children's ward of the hospital; as he peered through the windows of the swinging double doors, he could see several children engaged in either playing games or drawing and coloring pictures.

He restlessly swung his crossed leg on the chair as he sat back down briefly; the receptionist had informed him that it would probably be 30 minutes or more before he would be the next one summoned to the back testing rooms; the vibrator in his hand would indicate when he was to return to the registration desk.

After a few minutes of listlessly leafing through a nondescript magazine, he finally decided to stand up and stretch. He found himself drawn toward the double doors as he heard the distinctive sounds of children playing together. He looked again through the small panes of the door's windows before he slowly swung them open and walked inside. At least this was an area he hadn't seen yet. He ambled around the room, observing children in various activities to hopefully help keep their minds off the actual reason why they were there, either due to sickness or some more serious illness.

He noticed a small, blonde, curly-haired little girl who appeared to be about 6 years of age sitting rather dejectedly at a small table and chairs. He cautiously crept toward her and smiled back at the curious stare he received from the green eyes. "Hello," he greeted her. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a while?" he asked.

She looked him over for a few seconds and apparently decided he seemed harmless enough. "Okay," she eventually answered him. Justin smiled again and sat down rather awkwardly in the small, hard plastic chair that was typically reserved for primary school rooms. He glanced down at the blank piece of paper directly in front of the little girl and the pencil she was holding in her rather chubby hand. "You seem sad," he observed. "Is something wrong?" he asked her gently.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she answered sadly, "I wanted to draw a sun and a house to put my mommy and daddy in, but I don't know how."

Justin worked hard to prevent the smile from creeping onto his face; to this little girl, this was a serious calamity. "Maybe I can help. Can I try and draw it for you?" he offered her.

The little girl's face lit up. "Would you? I can draw my mommy and daddy if you do the other stuff. Can you make the sun with a happy face on it?" she implored.

Justin didn't understand, but he somehow knew he could draw exactly what she needed. "Sure I can," he confidently informed her. "It will be the best-looking sun you've ever seen. And we'll draw a really fancy house for your mommy and daddy, okay?"

"Yeah!" the little girl agreed. She handed him the pencil as she looked at him pointedly. "What's your name?" she asked him. "Are you sick, too, like me?" she wondered.

Justin felt a slight twinge of awkwardness; he wished desperately he knew exactly what his name was. But for now, Michelle's chosen moniker for him would have to do, he supposed. Making up his mind, he smiled at the girl as he told her, "My name's Jacob. What's yours?"

"Kayla," she answered him in a grown-up tone. "I'm six. I'm getting my toesils out tomorrow. Right here," she said, pointing to her throat, as Justin stifled a laugh. "My mommy and daddy are talking to my doctor. They said they'd be right back and for me to wait here. Can you draw my picture for them before they get back?" she beseeched him with just the hint of a little pout beginning.

Trying to stem another tide of waterworks, Justin assured him, "I'll start on it right now," before placing the sharpened pencil against the paper and beginning to draw a Tudor-style mansion in the center of the paper with sure, skilled strokes. Kayla watched, entranced, as a big, elegant house began to take form complete with pillars on the front porch and numerous, pointed spires atop. He adeptly shaded the house as it began to take shape, adding in several trees and bushes outside for good measure, along with a sloping, curved drive.

"Wow, that's pretty!" Kayla exclaimed as he clapped her hands in delight. Her previous tears had long been replaced with joy as the green eyes shone. "Now draw the sun, Jacob," she requested, as Justin smiled at her tenderly. The little girl climbed down from her chair to perch herself suddenly in Justin's lap as she intently continued to watch him draw.

As Justin moved toward the upper right corner to draw Kayla's sun, he did not notice Dr. Bradley interestedly watching their interaction from the far corner of the room. He couldn't help observing Jacob's easy rapport with the little girl, as well as his apparent confidence when it came to drawing. He quietly crept toward the pair from the rear to peek over his patient's shoulder to note what he had drawn; he was stunned by the obvious creative talent Jacob had. This man has to be an artist, he decided. He is too talented at it not to make a living from it. He filed this fascinating tidbit of information away in the back of his mind as a possible help in determining just who this man was before he looked at his watch and noted he was due to make his rounds on the 2nd floor. He walked quietly away, unnoticed by the pair still absorbed in their project together.

Justin finished up the cheery, smiling sun for Kayla just before he felt his vibrator going off to advise him it was time for his tests to begin. He tenderly placed Kayla down to stand on the floor as he handed her the completed picture. Somewhat regretfully he told her, "I have to go now. It's time for them to give me some tests." He smiled at her as he said, "It was very nice meeting you Kayla. I hope they take good care of your toesils tomorrow." He was surprised a little when his new friend reached up her hands, indicating she wanted him to lean down, before she bestowed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Jacob," she said somewhat shyly. "I love my picture you drew. My mommy and daddy will be so happy," she replied proudly. Her parents must have arrived, for Kayla quickly took off running toward the swinging doors and ran headfirst into the outstretched arms of an older version of her, complete with the same, curly blonde hair and green eyes.

Justin smiled as he walked by her, winking at her slightly before turning toward the registration station to begin his tests. He mentally crossed his fingers that these tests would be the starting point in his discovery of his true identity and restoration of his lost memories.