I Will Remember You

Chapter 1

Justin and Tee

S. Carolina, Early December 2001

Sitting back a bit on the stool, Justin surveyed his painting with a critical eye. He'd finished the mate to this one early on. It had been the easier of the two as he'd had a photo to help remember how the subject looked. The second of the set was proving more difficult as he had only his dreams to go by.

He would have said his memories, but he wasn't really sure if that's what this was or not. To him, his life had begun some six months earlier when he'd woken in a hospital bed, his right hand next to useless, his head hurting, not knowing where he was, who he was or who the people were that kept coming in and out of his room.

At first, he hadn't worried to much about it. He had drifted in and out, not really hearing what the people were saying to him. But then the day had come when he'd woken and stayed that way. Then he'd had to face those around him. The blond haired women who'd said she was his mother. The angry man who'd claimed to be his father. The loud, red headed women whose name he could no longer remember, even though she'd told him several times. There were others who'd come and gone, none recognized, none wanted.

They'd said his name was Justin. Funny, he didn't fell like a 'Justin'. But that's what they said and he had to believe them because he couldn't remember. They said he'd been hurt by a boy at school. That he and this boy had been fighting all year and it had finally come to this. 'Well, guess the other guy won this round', Justin had thought to himself.

Justin leaned forward to add a bit more color to the eyes of his subject. A bit more gold here, a little green there. Maybe a touch more crimson on the lips that smiled back at him. He'd dreamed about this man so many times, always the same dream. Dancing across the floor, being held close, the smile that was for him alone, the eyes so full of love.

But this person had never come to visit while he was in the hospital. Once he'd been released, Justin had always been on the lookout for him. Hoping to catch a glimpse of him leaving a store, getting out of a car, walking down the sidewalk. After a while, he'd come to believe that it was just a dream; the person didn't exist except in his own mind. Someone he'd created to replace all the people he'd lost when he was hit in the head.

He'd started the paintings a few weeks ago, kind of a catharsis to see if he could exercise this demon from his dreams. They were a matched set, he and his mysterious dream man dancing across from each other. He'd painted himself first. He'd borrowed a photo taken of him at his high school prom. It had looked almost right and he needed something from BB (before bashing). He didn't think he looked like that person anymore. The only thing he'd added to the picture was a white scarf around his neck and a hand twisting the scarf into a knot in the front as if about to pull him forward.

The owner of the hand was in the second portrait. The dark haired man with the hazel eyes, smiling and reaching across for him. When finished, the portraits would be hung to face each other, staring lovingly at each for all eternity. The dark haired man always reaching for the blond, but never pulling him any closer.

"Hey, I was wondering where you'd gotten too." Justin jumped a bit, started out of his reverie by his roommate's voice. "I was going to fix some sandwiches for lunch. You hungry?"

Justin laughed, he was always hungry. "Do you really need to ask that?"

The roommate laughed too. They'd only been living together for three months, but he knew Justin's habits as well as his own by now. When Justin started painted, he often forgot about food until his stomach loudly reminded him. Since he'd started on his current project, he'd been doing that more and more often. Walking into the room, Justin's roommate looked over the almost complete portrait, pursing his lips a bit in thought.

"So that's the dream guy, huh? Not bad…you think he might be real?" Justin had told him about the dream and he knew how the memory loss frustrated his friend.

Justin sighed, showing signs of that frustration as he started putting away his paints and cleaning his brushes. "I don't know…if he was real…if the way he looked at me was real…then why didn't he ever come see me? How could someone love me like that and then not even care if I lived or died?" This was the quandary that haunted Justin. Either the man wasn't real, or the love Justin saw in the dream wasn't real. He wasn't sure which reality would hurt the most.

"Does he have a name?" the roommate asked, curious. He had met Justin after the bashing so knew nothing of his life before. That was probably one of the reasons Justin had felt so comfortable with him. No hidden, preconceived ideas that Justin couldn't comprehend.

Justin shook his head at the question. "If he does, it doesn't come up during the dream dance." Justin sighed again, shaking his head to clear it of the thoughts crowding their way in. "Come on, Tee, let's go make those sandwiches."

Tee gave him a small sad smile, knowing how hard Justin tried not to dwell on this but failing miserably. When he'd met Justin, Justin had been angry at the whole world but especially at the people who called themselves his family and friends. Tee had seen them try to reach out to Justin, wanting things to be the way they had been before, only Justin no longer had a 'before' to go back to. The pressure he'd felt, the frustration at not remembering, the anger at the injustice of what had happened to him and how lightly his attacker had gotten off, all of those had nearly driven Justin right off the edge. Tee was glad he'd been able to be there to help ground his friend.

They put together their sandwiches in companionable silence. One of the things that Justin liked about his roommate, he knew when silence was preferable, and when it was unbearable. His 'family' had hit the roof when he'd told them he was moving to Carolina to live with Tee, who'd he'd only known for a couple of months at the time.

His 'mother' hadn't understood why he wanted to go so far away. His 'father' had literally disowned him. His 'friends' had acted hurt that he was leaving so soon after his accident. What they hadn't comprehended was that, to Justin, he'd known Tee as long as he'd known any of the rest of them. Molly was the only one who had really tried to understand.

Ever since Justin had meet him, Tee had been his lifeline. He never expected anything from Justin, other than the chores around the apartment. He didn't question why Justin did things the way he did, or worse, question why he did things differently than he had before. He didn't expect Justin to respond with friendship, love, affection or whatever else he might have felt . There was no BB with Tee to worry about.

As for moving to Carolina, the further away the better was what Justin had been thinking. Tee's family was all there and they had welcomed Justin with open arms, all fifty-seven aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Justin couldn't believe how many of them lived within a two hour radius. He'd learned that Southern families tended to be large and not migrate much from their birth place.

Both boys were living in the basement of Tee's grandparents house. The basement was huge and had it's own entrance from the outside as well as a door into the house upstairs for access to the kitchen. They had a microwave and a small fridge downstairs, but for real food, they still went to the 'real' kitchen.

Tee's grandfather was a retired senior partner in a law firm and enjoyed doting on his children and grandchildren. Tee was an special favorite of theirs as he had lived with them since just before he turned 16, when his mother had died in a car accident. When Tee had shown up with Justin just two weeks before school had started, Tee's grandparents had unofficially adopted Justin and treated him just like they did their own grandchildren. Thanks to Tee's grandparents, both boys were attending the local community college that fall while working part time to cover their personal expenses.

Justin ate in silence for a few moments before remembering the call he'd gotten earlier this morning. "Mother called." Tee looked up, arching his eyebrows in a silent question. "She wants me to come home for Christmas, even if it's just for a few days."

Tee nodded. He felt a little sorry for Justin's mother. She desperately wanted her son back, but he might as well have died that night. The son she knew was gone. The stranger left in his place neither wanted nor needed a place in her life and didn't really want her in his either. That had to be hard to bear. Tee knew Justin would go back though, if only to see Molly, but he played it out anyway. "So, you planning on going?"

Justin took a deep breath and let it back out, "Would you come with me?" he asked in a small voice. He knew he wouldn't be able to face this alone.

Tee smiled, "Of course. You know I'd do anything for you, sugarplum." The last was said in a super syrupy voice, meant to lighten the mood a bit. Tee could never stay serious for long.

Justin rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh, but not succeeding. Only Tee could say something so corny and actually make it sound funny. Justin didn't know what he would have done if Tee hadn't come along when he had or what he would do without him now. He only hoped he'd never have to find out.

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Carolina, December 30, 2001

Justin drug his suitcase down the stairs and tossed in onto his bed with a grunt. Tee followed at a slightly slower pace, knowing his friend was in a shitty mood and that he was bound to explode as soon as they were alone. He wasn't disappointed.

"If I ever even suggest doing something as stupid as visiting the Pitts again, handcuff me to the bed until I come to my senses." Justin was in full drama princess mode, so Tee just sat back and rode it out. "Why can't they just accept that their 'Justin' doesn't exist anymore and isn't coming back?! Why do they insist on telling me stuff that happened BB? It's like listening to people talk about someone else and that someone else isn't someone that I'm real interested in to begin with. Why can't they just let it go and move on?! I have!"

Tee could have disagreed with that last statement, but was smart enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. Their visit to Justin's Mom's hadn't gone very well and Justin was still upset by his mother's constant attempts to regain the son she remembered. It frustrated Justin to no end that he couldn't remember anything before the bashing. Well, anything except a dance with a tall, good looking man that may or may not be a real memory.

Justin started to empty his suitcase then took the dirty clothes over to the hamper. Coming back, he passed by the paintings he'd finished a couple of weeks earlier. The first, a picture of himself, dressed in the tux with a white scarf hanging around his shoulders. The second, a picture of the tall, dark haired man from his dreams. He stopped and stared at the two pictures, his eyes clouding with tears. He walked away from them, the tears threatening to overrun. "Tee, please, put them up somewhere. Someplace where I don't have to look at them."

Tee gave him a quizzical look, but moved to do as his friend asked. He could see the pain in Justin's face. He covered both pictures, then put them in the back of his closet. He'd find a way to store them later that would protect them better. Once finished, he walked over to where Justin was sitting on his bed and sat down next to him, putting an arm around his friends shoulder. "No more dream guy." He said simply.

Justin looked at the ground, not sure if he wanted to cry or throw something. "He wasn't real anyway." Justin mumbled. "Neither of them were."

Tee understood. The whole time they'd been in the Pitts, Justin had constantly acted as if he were looking for someone. They couldn't walk down the street without him searching the faces they passed, hoping to see something he'd only seen in a dream. Something that had never appeared. Tee thought that had caused more of the pain than anything else. Letting go of that dream was proving harder than either of them had expected.

By putting the paintings away, Justin was releasing the last bit of his past he had tried so hard to hold onto. It was over. There nothing and no one there he wanted to see again. He wasn't ever going back. Justin Taylor was officially dead. It was time to move on.

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