"You don't remember?" Brian asked. "As in, you don't want to?"

"As in I can't…at all. Nothing from before eight months ago." Justin looked away, a tear falling from his eye.

Brian watched amazed. Sometimes he wished that he couldn't remember the childhood he'd had, but to actually have it happen was completely different. Because then he wouldn't remember the good times he'd had with Mikey, or the rare games of catch in the backyard. No, he decided, he'd rather take the good with the bad than to have it all taken away.

Justin spoke again, his voice low and distant. "The first thing I can remember is waking up in a room that was completely white. I remember thinking that I'd died and this was heaven." Justin eyes were dark from despair and he wasn't really looking at anything. He was just staring at nothing, his mind wandering through spaces of time that he'd tried to block away. "And sometimes I wish that I had."

"It's okay." Brian said taking the blonde's hand in his. He was shivering and it wasn't because of the weather. "Let's take this inside, okay?"

Justin nodded and let Brian lead him inside. When they entered the loft, Justin shrugged Brian's arm from his shoulder and walked over to the couch. He didn't want to be close to anybody. He just wanted to crawl away and forget. He wanted to be forgotten. Brian went to the fridge and brought over a beer. He assumed the boy had had too many between Woody's and Babylon, but who was he to talk about drinking heavily?

"Okay." Brian said, settling himself on the couch. He knew that Justin needed this…closure.

"It was actually a hospital room." Justin uttered. "My supposed heaven. When the nurse came in, I had already gotten out of bed and was walking around. I hadn't realized that I'd pulled my IV out. There was blood everywhere. I can see it sometimes like I'm back in that room. I don't even remember it hurting." Justin looked at his arm and ran his fingers over the scar. He shook his head to clear his thoughts before turning his gaze to Brian. "I…I can't do this."

Justin stood and walked towards the bedroom, but stopped only when he heard Brian's voice.

"When I was your age, maybe a little younger, I won the soccer game that took us to the State Finals. I was ecstatic, but it was all ruined when I got home from celebrating to find Jack waiting for me. It was late and he was drunk. I assumed that since my sister knew about the big game that she would explain everything to him, but she either didn't, or he just didn't care. It didn't really matter because the outcome was the same. He bruised three of my ribs that night. So much for a good day." Brian exhaled. "I've never told anyone that before."

Justin turned and rubbed his hand over his face. "Why tell me?"

"I guess I thought if you knew that I could trust you, then you could trust me."

"Brian." Justin sighed, returning to the couch and Brian's safe arms. "I do trust you, I think."

"Do you think or do you know?" Brian questioned, resting his forehead against Justin's, watching for the truth in his blue orbs.

"I know." Justin nodded his head for added emphasis. "I know." He took Brian's hand in his and intertwined their fingers. Maybe, he thought if he held on real tight, he wouldn't scare Brian away. "The doctor came in then and was very surprised to see me standing. He rushed over and with help from the nurse, got me back into bed. I didn't know why I was there, where 'there' was, or who I was, and I was fucking pissed because nobody was telling me anything. It wasn't until two days later that I found out I was in New York. I caught a glimpse of a television set during one of my trips to therapy. I was always doing that, sneaking around and trying to find answers that I wanted. It never occurred to me to ask because I figured I wouldn't be told the truth any how."

Justin stopped talking and looked around the room. Gently, Brian squeezed his hand, reassuring him that he could continue. Justin sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"The doctors told me that I had amnesia from a blow to the head; that it may or may not return. I remember laughing because that stuff only happens to other people. You know, like your Aunt's-sister's-cousin-twice removed. Everyday, I would wake up and try to remember something, but it was always the same; just a blank slate. I remember wondering where my parents were, and again, it never occurred to me to ask. I mean, I assumed I had some because I was alive and why wouldn't they be? When I was discharged from the hospital, there was a blue van waiting for me and I --for some reason-- was excited. Maybe I thought I was going to see my mom or dad, I don't remember now. I do remember that door opening and rushing up to the person asking who they were and why hadn't they come to see me." Justin brushed a tear from his eye.

"We don't have to do this now." Brian whispered, rubbing the back of Justin's hand with his thumb. "When you're ready, I mean really ready, then we can continue."

"No." Justin said adamantly. "If I don't do it now then who knows if I ever will."

"If you're sure."

"I am." Justin whispered. "The woman was probably in her thirties; too young to be my mother, too old to be my sister. She had brown hair and a mousy face. She said her name was Olivia and that she was going to take me to a foster family. I didn't understand why I wasn't going with my parents. She sat me down and told me everything that I couldn't remember. Everything that'd happened to make me this way. It was a fire, she said, that had taken my home, my family, and my life. I had a little sister once, but I don't even know what she looked like because everything that was in the house burned. I have no pictures, no family albums, or videos. Nothing to remember them by because I was hit in the fucking head by a falling object. They don't even know what it was, a beam, a door, or a fucking vase. They don't know, I don't know, and I hate them for that. I hate that I only know my name because of my wallet. That I'm going through life with a big fucking hole."

Justin rested his head against Brian's chest, willing himself not to cry because he didn't want to, and Brian wouldn't want him to. "I have dreams late at night and I'll wake up too scared to open my eyes, but too worried not to. It's in those first moments that all I can see is a green balloon. It sways softly from side to side and bobs up and down. That's all, just a fucking green balloon."

"I wonder what that means." Brian uttered under his breath. Justin knew more than he was saying, Brian was sure of that, but if the boy didn't want to share, he wasn't going to push. In his own time, Brian thought, in his own time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Justin sat in bed with his chin resting on his knees. He wasn't exactly thinking about anything in particular, just a lot of things at once. He'd told Brian a lot of shit the night before, but he'd saved some details that he didn't want anyone to pity him over. Pity made his dick soft. His mind wandered between thoughts until he decided that he couldn't just sit there and think anymore. That wasn't something he was used to and he didn't want it to be. Instead, he crawled out of bed his head throbbing and his stomach queasy, and got dressed, hoping that he looked somewhat presentable.

"Excuse me." Justin mumbled, tapping slightly on the outside of the hard wooden door.

"What is it? My office hours are posted on the door as well as on my syllabus." The man didn't even bother to look up and see who was wrapping on the door.

"Professor." Justin started before backing off. "Ben."

Ben looked up at hearing his first name and was stunned to see the young blonde in his doorway. "Justin, I apologize for my rudeness. Here have a seat and I'll be with you shortly."

Justin entered the beige colored room and sat in the blue plastic chair in front of Ben's beaten up desk. He scanned the room and saw the usual diplomas, publishing's, books, odds and ends. There was nothing that would give the slightest hint to Ben's soft demeanor or home life. It was cut and dry, business and nothing else, but Justin knew the man, not the Professor, and for some reason that comforted him.

"So, what brings you all the way out here? And when you should be in school? Not the best way to impress a teacher, mind you, but I'm sure you have your reasons."

Justin blushed and then worried that maybe he shouldn't be here at all. Maybe this was a stupid idea and it'd backfire, leaving him covered in dirt and debris. Quickly, he pushed that idea back towards his subconscious and forged ahead with his original plan. "I wanted to talk to you about my chances of going to college."

Ben looked at him, questioningly, and decided that he was serious. That surprised him because all Justin had ever talked about was wanting to leave and get as far away from the Pitts as possible. Maybe he was growing up, or maybe he was falling in love. Which was more believable, Ben wasn't sure, but he wanted to see where this could go. "Well, we'd have to see about your test scores and grades. You have a rough background, but overall seem to have a pretty good demeanor. I'm not going to lie to you because you'd see right through it, but I really don't see you as college bound."

Justin sighed. "I never really thought about it before because I didn't believe I'd have the strength, the patience, or the heart to stay in one place for so long. I'm use to running -that's all I've known- but Brian showed me that it's okay to stick around. It's okay to have relationships with people because those ties will be with you always. I never thought about that before, and I'm kind of liking the fact that I do now."

"Well, have you taken your SAT's because that's a immense component of getting accepted?"

"Things get a little complicated there." Justin admitted. "Okay, I took them and received a 1500, but that wasn't the me that you know. That was somebody else."

"Somebody else?" Ben was rightfully confused. "Did you have somebody take the test for you?"

"No, no, no! I took it, but there was an accident." He trailed off, knowing that he would most likely have to tell the whole story and he didn't want to do that. It had been hard enough telling Brian and trusting Brian, but to tell Ben was something he hadn't even thought about. He didn't want to open that Pandora's box full of questions and sideways glances. "This wasn't a good idea."

"Justin." Ben started. "If there's something wrong then I'd be happy to do whatever I can to help, but you have to trust me."

There was that word again, trust. He hadn't had it for so long and suddenly everyone wanted it from him. "I'm fine." Justin murmured before dashing out of the office and down the hall. He leaned against the stair railing to catch his breath before running to the diner.

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