It's only time. Brian repeated those words in his head over and over, but they didn't make him feel any better. In time, the world might right itself. Or not. But Brian would remember, and, maybe, in the next life, they'd fare better. Christ, had he just thought that? As if he and Justin were soulmates. Star-crossed lovers. Fated to be together in some way in every life.

Thanks to Chris Hobbs, Justin had lost his memory of the last year. As Brian and Daphne had sat on the hard waiting room chairs, the doctor had declared, in a cruel, inhuman monotone, that Justin's chances of ever remembering were one in a million.

The doctor had come and gone hours ago and Justin was peacefully sleeping, but Brian continued to sit in the waiting room, thinking. Thinking about a beautiful, innocent, yet bold twink standing against a lamppost, a dozen of his firsts, all starring Brian, ecstasy-induced sex marathons, hundreds of brilliant drawings, ice cream kisses, endless dancing that looked more like fucking, touching foreheads, nose nudges, the hundred or so mornings he'd waken up holding the blond, the even greater number of shower blowjobs (Christ, Justin gave the best head), slow, but passionate French kisses…Then, his mind took a dark turn, and he remembered angst-filled mind games, the hundreds of nameless, faceless tricks he'd fucked or been sucked by over the last year, many times while Justin watched, his heart breaking, the countless times Brian had said he didn't want or need the boy, that they weren't together…Whatever they may have shared, it was gone, as was the pain Brian had caused the boy. What now? Should he leave well enough alone? He could guess what everyone would tell him when they heard the news.

Mikey: "You're finally free. Just walk away."

Jennifer and Deb: "Just let him go. Let him be happy."

What he never would have guessed was what Daphne actually said. "This is your chance. Start over with him. And don't fuck it up!"

Could he? For a moment, he let his mind wander…go where it wanted. He had known that night, as he dressed for Justin's prom, that he loved the little twat. Brian hadn't spoken the words, but he hoped Justin had heard them anyway. Not that it mattered now. But…knowing that he loved him…having admitted it to himself, would he do things differently if given the chance? Would he take him on dates, give monogamy a try, and/or say the words the boy had been longing to hear before the bashing? Would Justin even fall for him again? Or had it been a fluke? A combination of serendipitous conditions that couldn't be replicated? Would it be easier to simply walk away?

Brian remembered what Justin had said when he'd been packing for New York City.

"Don't go. You can't go. What are you going to do without me?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll survive."

"Doubt it. What about me?"

"I'm sure you'll get along fine on your own."

"No, I won't."

Walk away. The words sent his heart plummeting into his stomach. That was no longer an option.