"As best as I can." The elevator ride was uneventful and Correy got them to the lobby when he spoke up again. "I mean, you were gone for a while and I don't know what all happened then. You told me some stuff and I'll tell you what you've told me."

Jon laid his hands on the arms of the chair, feeling a little awkward in that chair and more than a little afraid to learn about his life, and yet it was his life and he needed to know. There were things that couldn't be hidden. All he had to do was read the papers or do a little digging. "How l-long was I g-gone?"

Correy pushed Jon through the large revolving door and angled him to the right. "You were gone about four, five years. You left so you could pursue acting. And you were one of the few that made it big."

Jon absorbed what Correy was telling him, putting a few of the pieces of the puzzle together. "Who's L-Lelah?" He'd seen the Golden Globe she'd left in his room, but had no idea why it was there or how it had gotten there. It must have something to do with his career, he thought.

Correy finally came to a stop at a bench. He bent over to lock the wheels of the chair so it wouldn't roll away and then sat down on the bench. A pack of smokes was pulled out and he tapped out two. "She's a friend of yours. A little crazy and she won that trophy thing for a movie she wrote and you starred in."

"I starred in," Jon repeated quietly and a little incredulously. He turned to Correy, reaching for one of the cigarettes. "W-why did she l-leave it here?"

Correy lit both cigarettes, then handed one over. "Because you've always wanted one and were up to win one of those things the night she won hers. You always said that she stole it from you." He took a hit and inhaled deeply before blowing it out. "And, she says that she wouldn't have won it without you."

Jon seemed a little surprised by that information, having a hard time imagining himself ever saying such a thing. It was like rediscovering himself and relearning who he was. "I wish I could remember," he said slowly and quietly, without a single stutter. He took the cigarette, looked at it a moment, and placed it between his lips.

Correy's eyes opened wide and he grinned brightly. "Say that again?" It wasn't what Jon had said, but how he had said it. The lack of stutter in that single phrase was an improvement and he wanted to hear it again.

Jon took a long drag from the cigarette. Like swimming or driving, even if he didn't actually remember smoking, some part of him seemed to remember how. The cigarette felt oddly familiar to him, the taste of it, the feel of it between his fingers. Almost like when Correy had kissed him. He easily blew smoke out of his nose and mouth. "I-I wish I-I could remember," he repeated, a little faster this time.

Well, it had been a start. Correy inhaled, thinking that it had been too much to expect so soon. "You will, or even if you don't, it's ok Jonny. We can make new memories."

Jon looked around at their surroundings realizing it was no longer winter, but not quite spring. The sun was shining, but there was still a slight chill in the air. "W-will it be spring s-soon?" he asked.

"There's supposed to be some cold for a few days, but after that I think we're going to be clear sailing for warmer waters." He chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette. "Are you getting cold?"

"No, I j-just..." Jon seemed to be struggling with something, a thought or a memory. "Autumn," he said quietly. "I like autumn." He looked up at Correy as if to confirm if this was true.

"We got together in Autumn." he smiled with a nod. "It was crazy and wild." He reached to take Jon's hand. "You were so handsome, always have been. And I've loved you all of my life."

Jon let Correy take his hand, his fingers cold but not freezing. "All your life?" he repeated. "W-were we....always c-close?" He linked his fingers with Correy's, oddly enjoying that simple touch, the way their fingers felt woven together.

"You were like a big brother when we were little." He nodded and laced his fingers with Jon's. "And then you went away for a while. I got sick and you came home. You told me about it. And you kissed me and that's when you knew that you loved me."

"I k-kissed you?" Jon repeated, a little incredulous once again. "W-when you were s-sick?" The cigarette was burning away in his hand.

"Yeah. You did. My dad caught you and chased you away. He told your dad and your dad kicked you out. He said some bad things about being gay." Correy shrugged slightly and gently squeezed Jon's hand. But you did come back and now I'm old enough and we know how we feel. Or felt." he gave Jon a hopeful look.

Jon furrowed his brows, listening with rapt attention, filing this all away in his brain for him to mull over later when it was quiet and he could try to put all the pieces together. Every answer seemed to lead to more questions, and he wasn't sure which he wanted to ask first. His lips moved, but nothing came out. It was the first time anyone had mentioned his father or any problems between them. But Jon had another question, as well. "How old?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"When you first kissed me?" He hand to think about that, a frown creasing between his brows. "I think you were seventeen and I was fourteen or fifteen" I think that's right."

Jon glanced aside, resting an elbow against the arm of the wheelchair and rubbing at the side of his forehead where the bullet had done its damage. There was nothing to show for it now, no scar, not even a bandage. The healers had taken care of that, at least, but had been unable to heal all the damage done to his brain. "T-tell m-me about my fa-father," he asked, nervously.

"Your dad," he sighed and scratched his head. "I think it's in the genes of our fathers to be jerks. Your dad kicked you out for being gay. Your sister, Helena stayed behind and suddenly became his favorite. But I think she was afraid of him, too. And I know she missed you very much."

"He k-kicked me out for be-being gay?" Jon asked, arching both brows. "W-why....am....am I....gay?" He wasn't asking why he was gay but why his father would kick him out of the house for such a thing, but he was having trouble getting the right words to come out. The cigarette was all but forgotten.

If Jon had any other expression on his face, Correy might have laughed. But the question was asked in such earnest that Correy took him quite seriously. "Because there are people who think it's wrong for two men to love each other." Somehow Correy had completely understood what Jon was asking.

"My f-father thought it was wrong." It was not a question this time, but a statement of understanding.

"Yes, he did." Correy nodded, then tossed the cigarette to the side, into an ashtray. "But that doesn't matter. Nothing matters but you and me. I know it sounds selfish, but we can't let people who hate because they're ignorant to come between us."

Jon let what was left of the cigarette fall to the ground and he reached for Correy's free hand so that he was holding onto them both, an almost pleading expression in his eyes. "H-help me to remember. I....I want to remember." It wasn't so much the past he wanted to remember, but his love for Correy.

Correy squeezed Jon's hands and gazed into his eyes. He didn't know how to remind Jon of something that they both had felt not so long ago. The only thing he could thing of to do was to kiss him. Leaning forward, his eyes closed as his head tilted and he pressed a kiss to Jon's lips that held within it everything Correy was feeling and had ever felt.

Jon could feel the love in that kiss and it brought tears to his eyes, his heart swelling with the first stirrings of affection, compassion, sympathy, hope. He returned the kiss, closing his eyes, blocking all thought from his mind and just letting himself feel whatever it was he was meant to feel.He released Correy's hand and brought his fingers to Correy's cheek, uncaring of any who might be watching, letting that kiss linger as long as Correy wanted it to.

Correy's right hand left Jon's left so he could cradle and support Jon's cheek with his palm. He scoot closer and his lips parted, his tongue softly traced over Jon's in a familiar tease, meant to induce Jon into doing something similar. His heart was beginning to hammer in his own chest and he sighed through his nose at the touch of Jon's fingers to his cheek.

Jon's fingers strayed from Correy's cheek to slide back through his hair, liking the soft, sleek feel of it in his fingers. It was the first thing he'd touched when he'd first awoken to find Correy sitting beside him. He hadn't yet told him that he knew in that moment that he must be someone important to him.He slowly drew back from Correy's lips, leaning his forehead against his, a little breathless.

Correy ignored the nagging that had begun in his back at the awkward position that he was in for as long as he could. But when it got to be too much, he slowly drew back. His chest was heaving as he gazed into Jon's eyes. He didn't smile, the situation, the moment too serious for that. "Love you," he whispered and leaned forwards once again and kissed him again.

Jon didn't fight it, didn't want to fight it. He knew all of this had to be hard on Correy, maybe even harder than it was on him. He wanted to remember, he wanted to return that love and he hoped one day he would. Jon's hand dropped from Correy's cheek and curled into his jacket, pulling him close and surrendering himself to that kiss once again.

Correy began to crumble. The kiss was intense and it heightened his emotions even further. He began to tremble and tears wet their faces as he cried softly. "I love you, so much," he whispered against Jon's lips.

Correy's tears melted Jon's heart, and he found himself crying, weakly reaching to pull Correy into a hug and hold him close. Correy's declaration of love tugging at his heart and touching him deep inside. There was so much he wanted to say; words seemed to fail him.

Correy slid into Jon's lap and his arms went around Jon's shoulders. It was definitely a good start and when Correy pulled from the kiss this time, he smiles and even laughs softly.

Jon's legs, though weak, supported Correy for now, but his head was starting to ache from trying to remember, his face slightly pale. He smiled, nonetheless, and brushed the tears from Correy's face, hearing his laugh for what seemed like the first time. "Y-you won't g-give up on m-me?"

"Never," he got out of Jon's lap then and moved to unlock the wheels to the chair. "Time to go inside, lover boy. It's cold out here and it's my job to make sure that you stay happy and healthy." Within a few moments he had Jon back inside and towards his room.

Jon wiped the tears from his own face and adjusted the blanket on his lap, not wanting anyone to see him crying and have to ask him why. His hands were cold, but for the first time since waking up, he felt hopeful.