Justin had spent the night with Skyler in a local hotel. He hadn’t wanted to go back to confront Evan just yet, and the wealthy human hadn’t minded footing the bill for a double room at the Fairmont. But with his red-eye to L.A. due to depart in less than four hours, Justin knew he’d have to return to the studio to gather his things. So he’d gotten a ride from Skyler, the man’s Porsche slowing to a crawl near the end of the block. There were police lights flashing everywhere.

Skyler was straining his head to try and see why the street had been sectioned off. “Jesus, is this normal?”

“Little bit,” Justin mumbled. He didn’t exactly live in the most gentrified section of Pittsburgh. “It’s probably just one of the neighbors’ domestic squabbles again,” he excused, moving to get out of the car. “I can walk over from here. Thanks for the ride, and the bag.” At his friend’s worried gaze, the blonde vampire assured, “I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll call you when the flight lands.”

“Yeah,” Skyler drew his distracted gaze back to the man whom he’d fucked, then killed, then befriended. It was funny how things worked out sometimes. “Yeah, let me know when you’re set up. I’ll visit.”

“You’re just counting on me being able to hook you up with some closet A-listers.”

He winked. “You know it.”

The man pulled away shortly after that, Justin waving one last time before turning to regard the mess that his residential street had become. He stepped forward, ready to see just what all the fuss was about.

---

It was about Evan. Or really, it was more about the human—dead now—than it was about Evan.

The police had set up two patrol cars across the street from Justin’s building, an ambulance was parked haphazardly right by the front doors. And several additional squad vehicles seemed to have joined the action late, parked further down the street.  Justin approached cautiously as he began to realize that the number of law enforcement officials milling around meant that whatever was happening was more than a simple case of domestic violence. He reached the first officer, who tried to stop him from going any nearer,

“I’m sorry son, but you’ll have to back away.”

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been a murder. Now why don’t you go on home. We’ve got enough gawkers already.”

“But I am home,” the blonde complained. “This is my building. I have to go up and get my things I have a flight to catch.”

The cop seemed to change his stance at the information. He hesitated, but eventually nodded and let him pass. “Watch your step as you go,” he warned, indicating the riot of police tape and barriers that’d been put up. “Don’t touch anything.”

Justin nodded, re-shouldering the overnight bag that Skyler had gifted him. His mind was made up to head straight to the studio and pack his things, whether or not Evan was there to engage him in a confrontation, but the young vampire found his intentions unexpectedly sidetracked when he glanced over from the building’s doorway to see a man seated and cuffed on the sidewalk curb. Justin belatedly realized that it was the vampire to whom he’d been introduced that first night out at Babylon. The one named Gavin who supplied Evan with groupies. The man made eye contact with him, before Justin realized that that wasn’t the only person present with whom he was acquainted. Up ahead there stood a handcuffed Evan, a very serious-looking Aiden at his side.

“Aiden!” Justin called out the psychiatrist’s name louder than intended, and it had both of the other vampires’ attention focused on him in a millisecond. Evan looked like shit, and Aiden looked… tired. Justin walked over to where they stood in the thick of it all. “Aiden,” he repeated, “Evan? You guys what’s going on?” It was very clear that the wiry vampire was being detained for something. If the handcuffs weren’t a dead giveaway, then the officer trying to manhandle him into the back of the nearest cruiser sure was. In another moment he’d succeeded, the door to the vehicle shutting down whatever Evan might have tried to say to them.

“Justin, I was wondering when you’d show up.” Aiden tore his concerned gaze away from Evan to watch his youngest charge. “Evan said you were arrested two nights ago.”

Blinking at the reminder, Justin nodded. “Uh, yeah. I was arrested but they’re only considering filing charges so far.”

The older man looked highly displeased.  “I hope you’ve gotten yourself a lawyer.”

“What? Oh, right. My friend Mel… Melanie Marcus is representing me.” Justin’s eyes scanned the nearby street distractedly. There was a man on a gurney being loaded into the ambulance. Someone else was still lying on the pavement, looking eerily still.

“Well you might want to recommend Ms. Marcus’ services to Evan. He’s going to need them.”

Justin tore his eyes away from the scene. “What happened?” He’d only been gone for a day, for Christ’s sake. How much trouble could his roommate have gotten into?

Aiden’s features were tight as he answered, “It would seem that Evan and his friend, Gavin, played host to some human guests.”

“We’ve done that before.”

“Yes well this time it went badly. Seems there was a confrontation of sorts when one of the humans decided to leave sooner than Evan wanted.”

Justin’s breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat. Oh no, he thought, his mind flashing to the way Evan had treated the humans inside of Thrall, how he’d provoked the men outside afterwards. “What did he do?”

“I don’t think he meant to kill anyone,” Aiden was speculating, “but that’s what happened.” Glancing to the street, the handsome vampire nodded to the very still body that was lying there. “Broken neck.”

“Holy… holy shit.”

“The one in the ambulance has multiple contusions and lacerations consistent with a physical fight.” Aiden shook his head angrily at the blonde before him. “Evan finally found his big thrill. I’m just glad you didn’t end up a part of it.”

Justin glanced to where the other man had placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. A cold feeling swept over him at Aiden’s words. Justin realized that, had he not pulled away from their adventure in Thrall, he very well could have been around to be a part of Evan’s last ‘big thrill’. He watched in shock as the other man in handcuffs—Gavin—was unceremoniously stuffed into the back of another police vehicle. Justin swallowed. That could’ve been him. Charges pending for simple assault suddenly looked damned rosy next to what Justin figured Evan had coming his way. He watched with a degree of regret, as his first friend post-change was driven away in the squad car.

Then his eyes slid over to where the still person lay on the ground. Justin hadn’t considered the possibility that the person might be dead until just then. Didn’t they always cover the bodies with blankets? That was always the way it seemed to go on television… But not here.

Justin stopped in his tracks from where he’d been approaching the person, eyes blinking in shock. Blonde hair even paler than his own fanned out as a white shock against the black of the asphalt, scuffs of skinned cheek and chin giving red splotches to the face. It was the face that had Justin gasping. He recognized that face.

It was Nathan. His grey eyes—one’s that’d shone with such life when they’d danced together at Babylon—now stared out soullessly from his face. His head was turned at a wrong angle from his body. Justin shuddered at the chill that swept him. He’d danced with that man, been sucked off by him, fed from him. He’d been Justin’s first…

“Justin?” The gaping blonde jerked at the light touch to his shoulder, and Aiden pulled gently, “Come on, you don’t have to see all of this. Let’s get you inside.” Apparently Aiden understood how rattled the younger vampire was, because he led him considerately all the way up to the twelfth floor, never abandoning his comforting hold.

---

“I just can’t believe it.”

Justin was sipping at the cup of tea that Aiden had brewed for him, the other vampire nursing his own. He’d dumped his overnight bag by the front door, not yet having thought about the task of packing his possessions. Instead, both men stood by the kitchen counter that abutted the studio’s large windows. The view to the street far below was mostly unobstructed, and they watched solemnly as the remaining police officers flitted around like agitated bugs, photographing and tagging every inch of the block.

“He was troubled,” Aiden murmured. “In a way I’d always hoped that he wouldn’t leave the home. As long as he was there, I could keep an eye on him.” The dark-haired man glanced to the blonde whom he’d saved from death so recently. “It was doubly upsetting to me when he attached himself to you.”

Justin smirked at the lip of his mug, sipping slowly. “Why? Because I was so special?”

“Yes. You were—are—so full of promise. He was a shell of a person.”

“Hell of a thing to say about your own patient.”

Aiden shrugged. “I’m not rejoicing. It’s just the truth. You on the other hand…”

“I’m not so much better.” Justin’s voice came out forlornly. “Maybe worse.”

“What? Justin that’s not true! You’re completely different. Adaptable, able to integrate, and well… fixable.”

“But I’m not!” Justin had set his drink down, not finding whatever comfort in it that he was supposed to.  He stepped agitatedly away from the window and the other man. “I haven’t been able to remember anything Aiden. I haven’t gotten better. And what small fragments of relationships I had with the people from my old life have pretty much been obliterated by… this.”

“ ‘This’?” Aiden frowned. “But I thought you’d made progress? You told me that you wanted to go further! And Brian said—” he cut himself off at that, sudden change in facial expression showing that he knew he’d gone too far.

“Brian said?” Justin squinted at his creator and mentor, realization quickly dawning on his face. “You talked with him, didn’t you?” Aiden didn’t have to respond for Justin to know the answer. He shook his head in disbelief. “I should have figured. He knew too much about my circumstances, too much about everything.” He scoffed again, “Fucking memory loss recovery methods. I should have known he’d get to you.”

“He didn’t ‘get to me’. I… made my own choice to give him information that might help you. It was unethical and I shouldn’t have done it. But I never meant to go behind your back,” Aiden apologized. He didn’t want to drive a wedge between himself and his youngest charge in this troubling time. “Justin I’m sorry if you think—”

“I don’t think anything. I’m not upset. I don’t really care at this point.” He sighed, stepping over towards the couch and television. “It doesn’t matter anymore anyways. I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?”

Justin nodded, having come to stand in front of the easel that held Brian’s long-procrastinated portrait. He stared at it, finding it ironic that he’d finally finished the portrait, just as he’d finished with the man himself. “I’m going to L.A. My flight leaves in a few hours.”

“But Justin, that’s such an upheaval!”

“Is it?” The blonde vampire blinked at his painting, wishing that he’d thought of something meaningful to do with it, someone to give it to. Now he’d have to leave it here to gather dust until he came back. If he ever came back. “It’s not going to be any more difficult than lingering here,” he continued. “This place, this whole entire place and the people in it; it’s just a dream world.” Justin’s fingers thoughtfully traced the lips of his ex-lover on the canvas. “A dream that I thought I had once, but can’t remember anymore.”

“Justin I think it’s a little rash to just cut and—” Aiden paused, staring down to the street once more as police lights began flashing again. “It looks like they’re clearing out down there. Justin I think I should go down and ask if any of the officers need a statement from me, or from you. Will you be alright for… Justin?” Aiden noticed the lack of response he was getting. The blonde was still standing by his easel, but a quick glance told the older vampire that whatever he’d just said, Justin hadn’t been hearing it. Justin’s eyes were glued to the painting in riveted shock, and he stood stock still. “Justin?” Aiden repeated in confusion, hesitant to approach the frozen man. “Justin?” His words evoked no answer. Justin remained just as he’d been. It was as if he’d never seen the painting before in his life, with the way he looked at it.

It was as if he’d seen the face of God.

---

It was the lights that did it.

The blue and red lights from the myriad of police vehicles below came shining up to the studio’s windows, magnified and scattered wildly through the glass. Like the lights of Babylon they swarmed the room, transforming and transmuting. They swept across the furniture, the floors, the pale of Justin’s own skin and hair, and they swept across the portrait of Brian. And that was exactly what did it.

Justin felt a jolt run through him as if he’d been dunked into cold water, the breath smashed out of him in one, overwhelming rush. He felt his world constrict violently fast, zooming in until all he could see was that canvas, that image of Brian with the red and blue lights pulsing over it. Brian’s face, red and blue. Red and blue, and Brian staring right at him. There was something to that, there really was. But what? Justin’s mind teetered on the edge of some unfathomable realization, and then he fell from the precipice, and everything came flooding back.

Brian, panicked and ash strewn from only a brief time in the thick of it all. The relief of a thousand worlds lifted from his shoulders as he caught sight of Justin standing there, alive. The feel of his body-crushing embrace, his panting breaths, his grasping hands. And the reflection of all the red and blue lights that slashed through the night to illuminate his crumpling features, as he breathed the only words that had ever mattered, and never been said:

“I love you.”

Only to be repeated a second time, when Justin was already floating away on the first.

“I love you.”

Justin’s eyes widened as he stared blindly at the portrait, his mouth opening as if in a gasp as the memory of that fateful night outside of Babylon came rushing back… with every solitary emotion attached to it.

A chain reaction was set off, and Justin left the room of the studio completely as he was sucked into some long-unused space in his mind. Love. Brian loved him. And the best words he’d ever heard ranked as such because… because he loved Brian. Every touch, every kiss, every soul-crushing embrace that he’d ever endured flashed by right in front of him as if a flipbook projected to astronomical proportions. And each memory was relived with the emotions that he’d been without for so long. In the apartment, Justin’s eyes fluttered as if in seizure as the mental barrage kept on coming, every poignant moment bringing something new back:

There was Brian, finishing the Liberty ride with a grimace, his eyes determinately locked on Justin’s own. There was Brian, weak from radiation and falling to the floor as they fought. There was Brian, holding him proudly as they opened Kinnetic. Brian, kissing him against propaganda posters. Brian, fucking him against beds and floors and walls. There was Brian throwing him out, taking him back, and allowing him to walk away with Ethan. Brian dancing with him at Pride. Brian guiding him through panic attacks. Brian dancing with him at prom. Taking his virginity. Taking him home.

There was Brian, rushing to him in the aftermath of the bombing and saying those words. Ash-strewn, terrified, and illuminated in red and blue police lights…

Justin blinked frantically at the multicolored portrait that reappeared before his very eyes, his world expanding outwards once again. He gasped, stumbling over his own feet as if he’d been physically tossed from the memories. Aiden was at his back in time to catch his fall, and the blonde could only breathe heavily while he regained his bearings. Oh. my. god. It was back. All of it.

“Justin, what the hell—”

The handsome vampire hardly had the chance to voice his baffled concerns before the man in his arms was pushing away to stand on his own two feet. “I remember,” he shot out, eyes fixed to where the painting—merely a simple painting once again—stood before him. The blue and red lights were still swimming across it, but they did nothing to him now. The trigger was over, and Justin was whole once again. He stared a moment longer before realizing what he had to do. Swallowing, he nearly ran for the apartment’s door, no mind paid to the overnight bag abandoned there. No mind paid to the boarding pass hidden beneath the microwave.

“Justin, wait! What are you doing?”

He glanced back to Aiden, to the man who had always told him that he’d be able to recoup what he’d lost. “You were right,” Justin said breathlessly. “And I have to go. I have to go!” He rushed out the door before any other words could be exchanged, and Aiden watched in growing suspicion of what had just occurred. All he knew was that he hoped that suspicion was true. And all Justin knew as he practically flew down the eleven flights of stairs and out onto the street, was that he had to get to Brian and tell him. Every second that passed before he could end this—this miserable odyssey they’d both had to endure for months—was a second he couldn’t stand.

Justin had never tested out the theory of whether he could run clear across Pittsburgh at a twelve mile an hour pace. That night he did.