New Beginning

"If you want to go look through some magazines or on the internet for bedroom furniture that you think he might like, go ahead James. Your father and I need to discuss some details about this. It would bore you terribly, I assure you. We'll be upstairs for a while, please don't interrupt us unless it's an emergency. We have a lot to talk about," Mrs. Larson said, dismissing him from the conversation.

James nodded and stood slowly. His parents didn't say anything else. They were clearly waiting for him to leave. He sighed and wandered out of the room, well aware that going upstairs was now "off limits". His parents had always done that when he was little. Whenever they had "grownup stuff" to talk about, he was banished to the downstairs rooms. They still did that every so often.

He slumped on the couch and grabbed the remote to turn it on. The blond could hear their footsteps as his parents left the kitchen and headed for the stairs.

James didn't get it. This was the weirdest coincidence he had experienced so far. He had been going to ask them to help him get Justin out! How was it that they had managed to beat him to it? Clearly someone at the hospital did care about Justin. Daniel...The name was familiar. It must have been a good five years since he had seen the man, otherwise he would have an easier time connecting a face with the name...

Justin walked down the hallway again, Nurse on his right, guard on his left. The Director had ushered him from the room as soon as the phone call was over, saying they'd work it out, and he'd be "home" before the week was up. Not that Justin believed him. Not a bit.

"I don't know why we're taking you back to your room!" Nurse Margaret complained, a tight grip on his upper arm to make him keep up with her impatient pace. "You have a schedule to keep! And it's a very tight one! But no, you're not to do anything, not a single test for the rest of the week." She huffed. "Directors orders. Hah! What a joke. I've been working here longer than he's been walking. If anyone deserves that p[position, it's me!" she exclaimed with a jab of her thumb at her chest.

The guard on the other side of Justin just walking silently, not in as much of a hurry as she was. He lagged behind them, not touching Justin. At first, he'd just thought it didn't mean a thing, but under the nurse's pull, Justin had stumbled towards him. And the guard had flinched away, not wanting to come into contact with him.

"Ugh, what am I say, he's got family." Nurse Margaret shook her head and took out the ring that held the key to Justin's room. She shoved the key into the keyhole, then shoved Justin in.

"Guess you'll be hanging out here for a couple days." was all she said, as she shut the door behind herself.

An hour or two had passed and James had managed to actually finish every homework assignment for the night. It had been a good two weeks since he had managed that. His parents were still upstairs, and it was safe to assume that he was still not allowed to go up. Which sucked, because his laptop was in his room, sad and lonely. And his video games were up there too. At least he had his iPod. He sighed and put in the earbuds, then flipped through some songs before deciding on one. The boy closed his eyes and let his mind wander with the blaring music.

This was boring.

Justin sat on his cot, legs curled to his chest, arms wrapped around. He wasn't really sure...

He wasn't sure about anything.

This was just too weird.


(I have nothing to say.)

His parents had finally come down after another hour to start making dinner.
James had managed to doze lightly for a few minutes before his dad had awoken him to eat dinner.
As they ate in silence, James casually watched his parents for any telltale signs of agitation. But his dad's face was as calm and clear as ever, and he ate with just the same cautious slowness. And his mom never ate much, so she always left the table quickly after. He got nothing from them.

And then dinner was over and he was in his room, laying on his bed, trying to piece together just exactly what was going on. But his memory was still so fuzzy, and he felt like he was missing a large piece of what this was all about. And no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't come to him.

As James stared up at the ceiling, a small crack formed. He squinted at it, and it got bigger. He blinked. Then it was a large gaping hole, with an eery light pouring through, and he had never seen anything like that light. It had a bizarre quality to it that James coudln't-this was like before when-and the hole was bigger until his whole ceiling was gone, and then his walls, and his room and he was lying lying on a bed of transparent, shimmering swirls that somehow matched the...shade of the light. And then there was a blurred figure standing over him, boring into his eyes with a look of such intensity that James couldn't look away. And slowly, slowly he could make out the eyes. And just as he felt a flicker of recognition pass through him, he crashed right back down to earth, and he was on his floor, face down, and the room was pitch-black and he could make out the sound of crickets from outside. (woo for bsed hallucination! 8D -shot-)

"Mmph." He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling again, utterly bewildered. It was smooth and flawless, as always. James blinked hard and groaned, then lifted his wrist up to his face to see what time it was.

His watch read two AM.

How the hell had he just spent seven hours daydreaming?! That hadn't even been sleep, he was sure of it. James had been wide awake, trying to figure out what his parents were up to in the back of his mind.

The house felt strangely empty.

James stood slowly and crept to his door, turning the knob soundlessly and easing it open. He felt his way down the hall by his parents bedroom and crouched down, putting his ear up to the door. His dad snored quite loudly, though he would never own up to it. And James could not make out the easily heard noise.

His parents weren't home.

He couldn't actually see that it was dark out, he just knew it was. The lights had been shut off in the hallway but Justin only knew this because the sliver of light that would shine through the crack under his door was gone. The nurses and patients and guards had stopped bustling about but that's only because he couldn't hear their footsteps or murmurs anymore. And he knew that the security alarms had been set to full power but that was only because he heard the constant whirring thrum of the wires in the walls.

Justin sighed heavily through his nose and arched his back, stretching his legs and arms. He'd been in his rooms for hours, literally hours, with absolutely nothing to do. He'd already plotted out every face and map and shape on the ceiling when he was seven, and there wasn't much else after that. His room was boring. Creamy white walls with a matching ceiling. Cold, harsh tile on the floor that made him think twice about setting his bare feet on the ground. His cot was a simple hospital bed, steel bed frame and a lumpy, uncomfortable mattress on top. A single, deflated feather pillow and on thin, woolen sheet. It wasn't like it got terribly cold in here, though, so he didn't have to worry about warmth when it came to the sorry excuse for a cover. He sighed again and twiddled with the cloth between his fingers. Wasn't like he could do much else.

...

Wait.

Justin sat up sharply, the bed protesting with ageless creaks and squeals. He quickly balanced himself to stop the noise and strained to hear the sound again...

Yes, there it was. Footsteps. But it had been at least three hours since the Institute had quieted down, way past curfew. No one was allow to be up and about, no one. And even if someone had been itching to take a walk, they wouldn't be stupid enough to walk around after curfew. The punishment just wasn't worth the small sense of freedom in the end.

Oh, holy Hell, the footsteps were approaching his room. He knew it was for his room, there weren't any other occupied rooms for at least three hallways. They didn't like him interacting with other patients because they didn't know if he was contagious or not yet. And here, you were guilty until proven innocent, so he was basically under subjective quarantine. The few nurses around him were all diagnosed with cancer and the like so they didn't have much to live for in the first place. They would die from their ailments sooner than what they might catch from him.

But back to the quickly growing closer footsteps. They were nearly outside his door now, just a few moments away. Justin moved from his bed and crouched in the darkest corner of his room, suddenly terrified. He hadn't done any tests today, so maybe it was a night test. Those ones were the worst. The saved them for the night time because they wouldn't have to worry about the risk of anyone... walking in. He didn't want another session of those, though, they would be off schedule if they did. Shit, shit, shit, he couldn't do this, not tonight.

"Justin?" came a hissed whisper from behind his door that had Justin's head shooting up. Crap, whiplash. Who was that, outside his door and calling for him? This wasn't right, no one should be looking for him. Whenever the tests were set for the night, they just barged in. Never did they ever call his name.

"Who is it?" he asked back, curling into the corner a tad more.

"It's me, Daniel, the Director."

...

Hadn't been expecting that.

"Come on, Justin, we have to go!"

The door opened and Justin had to squint to make out the Directors features. That young face with the sharp chin and jaw, oddly fluffed and soft looking dark brown hair framing his face. The Bluetooth didn't seem to be in his ear though. There was no bright green light. He rushed into the room, thought quietly enough, looking foreign to Justin outside of his blue suit. Instead he wore a simple white t0shirt with a v-neck cut and blue jeans with sneakers. Really weird. And informal. The Director placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Justin. We have to go. Please, we have to hurry."

Justin just stared at him, bewildered beyond any coherent thought process. The Director pursed his lips and finally pulled Justin to his feet, grateful that there was no real protest. He tugged the boy out into the hall.

And then they kept going.

Through hall after hall, down the elevator, through the lobby. They had to duck behind corners, hide behind desks, had to avoid the flashlights of guards and security cameras that the Director magically knew the location of. And his key, it was a master key, and it opened every door. And after each door, Justin looked back, lost.

An then they were in the lobby.

"Sir?" Justin asked timidly, looking out the glass doors into the world of the Reals. A car was outside with a man and a woman waiting in front of it, looking into the Institute expectantly. His breath caught in his throat and Justin started to fight against the grip on his arm.

"No! No, no, no!" He exclaimed, trying to go back the way they had come. He wasn't allowed to leave, why was the Director making him leave. "No, I can't leave, they'll hurt me!"

"Justin!" The Director gripped his shoulders firmly, spinning Justin to look him firmly in the eye. "You're leaving! I swore to God, the day that my father first showed you to me, I swore I would get you out! And that's exactly what I'm doing so shut your mouth and get on with a life that isn't miserable!" He stopped, breathing heavily. "I'm getting you out. Even if it's the last thing I do."

And with that, he pushed Justin out the door and into the Real world.

The Larsons jumped to action the moment Justin passed through the doors of the Institute. Mrs. Larson sent him a hasty smile as she ran up and took him by the arm.

"Sorry we have to be rushing things so much, but we need to get you out of here fast. I'm Olivia Larson and that's my husband Davis."

She gently pulled the boy up to the side of the car and opened the door for him.

"We have to go really fast. I'm sorry this must be way too much for you to handle right now, but we're taking you to our house, and you'll be safe there."

He didn't respond, just stood there with a blank expression on his face. Mrs. Larson gave him a small push in the small of his back.

"Come on we gotta go," she repeated gently.

Then he slid in.

Mr. Larson was already in the driver's seat, ready to get them away. Mrs. Larson hurried to the passenger seat and shut her door. She had her seatbelt on in seconds. Then she turned to face the boy, who looked utterly terrified.

"Have you ever been in a car before?"

He shook his head.

"That's what I thought. Okay, you need to buckle your seatbelt. It's a safety precaution."

Justin just stared at her, bewildered.

Mrs. Larson reached back and helped him, showing him how to click it into place.

She leaned back in her seat, knowing that talking was probably the last thing the poor kid was up for. Mr. Larson drove swiftly and silently, taking so many detours and turns that it was a wonder they weren't lost.

Two more hours of driving and then they were finally pulling into the driveway of the Larson's house.

Mr. Larson parked the car in the large garage. Mrs. Larson was the first one out of the car, practically running to open Justin's door.
~~~~

James twitched at the sound of the garage door opening. He had been laying on the couch in the living room, waiting for someone to return home and explain where they had been. He was tired of being left out of all the plans. And he didn't want to stay in his room after the crack in the ceiling hallucination. James strained to hear the sound of car doors slammed shut. He had heard three doors. Most definitely.

The Director smiled to himself as he watched the Larson car pull away from the curb. Finally. Finally, he had kept his promise. A promise that took far too long to follow through but utterly satisfying just the same. He sighed happily and turned around, staring down the muzzle of the gun with ease.

"Go ahead."

- - -

Justin looked up at the towering mansion in appraised awe, unable to count the windows he saw that reflected the moon like mirrors. When the car door was opened for him, and the odd fabric strapping him to the leather seat released, Justin stumbled out of the car with the woman's help again and went back to just staring.

There wasn't much else he could handle at the moment.

They walked him to the French doors that served as the entrance to this... this castle, and opened the oaken doors for him. He stepped inside and a wave of cold air hit him like a splash of water and he shivered.

"Wha... what is this..." he could only ask, dumbfound. Because never, in his wildest dreams, did he imagine that people actually lived in the castles of storybooks.

Mr. Larson chuckled softly at the boy's reaction to their house. Mrs. Larson walked ahead, probably to go prepare one of the guest rooms for Justin until they got his room situated properly.

"A family friend designed it for us. Sometimes I find myself just staring at it whenever I find myself forgetting just what a cool place it is," he said softly, leading Justin down the hall and to the stairs, only to stop abruptly when he made out the soft glow of light coming from the living room.

"Wait here for a moment."

Mr. Larson walked through the high arched entryway and raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight of his son slumped on the couch, staring at him with cold, calculating eyes that shone in the light of a single illuminated lamp.

"You're up late," Mr. Larson pointed out sternly.

"So are you."

The tone of his son's voice matched his own perfectly. Calm, precise, controlled.

"Where were you?"

Mr. Larson smiled a little. It barely reached his eyes.

"Funny that my own son should be asking me this question."

"Why didn't you bring me?"

That question surprised Mr. Larson a little.

"We didn't want to risk your safety. Now if you're done questioning me, you can go meet him. He's right out in the hall and he's really confused right now. Seeing someone his own age might help. Maybe he'd listen to you better. You can go show him to the guest room."

And then the coldness fell from his son's eyes and a look of...bewilderment? Awe?

Mr. Larson watched silently as James stood and slowly left the room, like a sleepwalker.

~~~

James moved like he was in a dream. Because that's all that this could be.

He stared at the boy before him. The hall was still dark, nobody had bothered to turn on the lights. But he could make out the dark silhouette, and James knew it was him.

He breathed, "It's really you, isn't it?"

Justin jumped violently and practically rammed himself into a wall because there was no more room to run. He looked to where he heard the voice and froze. The blond kid. The one who'd met him. The one that he dreamed with. Camden. Camden. Camden.

James?

"James?" he whimpered, eyes wide with fear. He remained, pinned to the wall by his terror, hands and legs shaking like he'd seen his death. "James, is that you?"

That got James to snap out of it pretty quick.

"Yeah it's me," he replied softly, approaching cautiously. Justin looked ready to bolt.

"It's alright, we're going to take care of you now. You're safe here. Nobody's going to hurt you."

Undeniably one of the most cliche things he had ever said, but Justin looked like he needed to hear that.

"I'm going to show you to one of our guest rooms upstairs, okay? There's more privacy up there," he said, gesturing to Justin to follow him as he started walking down the hall towards the hated staircase.

Hated because the steps were glass and there was a bizarre half-wall/railing that went up with it. Except it was glass too. And for someone who despised heights, it had taken a looong time to get used to.

(had to throw in that detail even if it's completely irrelevant to this dramatic reunion -shot-)

Justin practically lunged forward to grab James' hand desperately. He clutched the palm like a drowning man and hid behind the blond, peaking over his shoulder at whatever was ahead and whipping his head around to check behind. He was practically glued to James' back, shuffling behind him warily.

"I'm sorry..." he mumbled, suddenly feeling pathetic for being so scared about being... out of his element. He wasn't sure but in the dream realm Justin was pretty sure that he was the more headstrong of the two. Or at least the stronger. It's what it had seemed like to him.

But now he was acting like this stupid little kid that had been kidnapped or something...

Granted, generally, anyone would be flipping out. But, technically, Justin had passed all his stress evaluations. He should be handling this better.

Not hanging onto James like a war-torn soldier to his last cartridge.

James tried to calm his now suddenly frantic heartbeat as he replied, "Nonono, it's fine Justin. Really. You're safe."

Well he hadn't exactly expected to be nearly tackled from behind, so all things considered he was doing an excellent job of keeping calm.

Not really.

He linked his fingers through Justin's in the hopes that Justin would A. maybe stop gripping it quite so hard because right now it felt like his hand was slowly being squeezed to death and B. to try to calm the poor guy.

He led Justin up the stairs slowly, glad that it was dark because that meant he didn't get a view of the floor beneath them as they ascended.

"We didn't have time to get your room together yet, so you'll have to bear with the guest room for tonight. I'm sure Mom will take you furniture and clothes shopping tomorrow. Anyway, your room is just a few doors down the hall from mine."

"My room?" he asked brokenly, mind flashing back to his dim little white room with the cold squeaky bed. How was his room here? Were they going to take him back to the Institute?

So far, this placed seemed just like it, only nicer. But it had the same walls that kept him safe and caged, which was comforting enough. Maybe it was just a change of scenery to see how Justin handle truly different environments?

James saw the fear flash in Justin's eyes.

"It's a really nice room, I promise. Mom really spares no expenses for interior decorating."

...Yeah the brunet really didn't look like he liked the idea of that.

"...If you want you can sleep in my room the first few nights. It's a mess but I could always shove some stuff out of the way and grab one of the pullout beds for you. If that sounds better to you," he suggested softly as he pulled Justin down the hall.

"Please." Justin whispered.

The floor wouldn't be bad. Messy meant that it was a different room. And James was a Real, they wouldn't make him sleep in a room like his. That wouldn't make any sort of sense.

"I'd like that..." he mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment. Hopefully he wouldn't bother James too much by being there.

James smiled reassuringly then opened the door to his room and reached in to flick on the lights.

"So here's my room...It might take a bit of work to clear enough space to fit another mattress in but I think we can manage."

The walls were covered in various band and video game posters, and a few small picture frames hung here and there. The floor was...well it was difficult to make out the color of the floor because it was so covered in piles of books, video games, electronics, CD cases, and various other junk.

He had a queen sized bed that really didn't seem to take up much room, but that was probably because his room was far larger than the average teenager's bedroom. The headboard was black and attached into the wall and molded into simple shelving that curved out to the sides to serve as nightstands. The mattress was low to the floor and there was clearly no space under the bed to shove stuff under. That was probably good, all things considered. His sheets were a simple dark blue and the pillows were a paler shade.

A large desk stood next to a window that took up nearly a third of the room. It, like the bed, was very modern and almost art deco in the design. It was difficult to make out much of it because it was covered by another heap of junk, on top of which a laptop balanced precariously.

A large dresser that matched the design of the bed stood in another corner, and two more doors stood on the right wall that was perpendicular from the door they had come through. It could only be assumed that one door led to a large walk in closet, and the other to a private bathroom.

"You can start shoving stuff to the sides of my room while I go hunt down one of the mattresses, okay?"

Justin gazed around the room in awestruck wonder. How could someone own so much? And keep it all here in this room? How does this happen?

"There's so much here..." he said, falling to his knees and picking up some random magazine. He flipped through it, grateful that they'd at least taught him how to read, but furrowed his brow. What was a "highschool musical three"? It looked... odd.

James left the room silently and marched down the hall. He stopped in front of the third door down and yanked it open. It was a little bit smaller than his own bedroom and had been turned into a storage closet/room to put unwanted furniture.

The blond switched on the lights and made his way to the back corner of the room, where three twin-sized beds were stacked neatly. James was just glad they weren't kings. He didn't think Justin was up for helping him heft a mattress of that bulk into his room. Twins he could manage on his own.

He pushed the top mattress off the pile and let it land on its side with a dull thud. He then proceeded to drag it out into the hall, trying to be a quiet as possible. His parents' bedroom was on the other side of the staircase, and he was pretty sure their door had been soundproofed. But still. One never knew who was within earshot.
Finally, James was able to lean it against the wall by his door and peak his head in to see how much Justin had cleare-

Justin was kneeling on the floor, captivated by one of his old magazines. His room was still a disaster.

That was weirdly adorable.

Justin looked up as he heard the footsteps, dropping the magazine like it was on fire.

"I'm sorry! I didn't ask, that was wrong of me! I'm so sorry!"

He looked back at the floor guiltily, threading his shirt between his fingers.

"I won't do it again, I promise..."

"No, no it's fine! Seriously! You can look through anything you want. Hell, take the magazine if you want it. Really Justin. It's okay," James said, walking through the door and eying Justin with concern.

"I just wanted to start clearing some room for your bed. The mattress is right in the hall."

Jeez, what had they done to the poor guy? Who would make a kid believe that it was...sinful to just pick up a stupid tween magazine?

He sighed and dropped on the floor next to Justin and began shoving stuff away from the center of his room.

Justin didn't look up, only pushed things around, though he wasn't sure to where. He didn't meet James' gaze, even when the blond looked up to him worriedly. He had screwed up and James was only being nice because he knew him.

Oh, this was going so very well.

James continued clearing junk away, looking up every so often at Justin, just to see if he was okay. Which he clearly wasn't. And-...he was still in his hospital clothes. Had he seriously not noticed that before?

"Hey, do you want to change out of the hospital scrubs? I can lend you a pair of pajamas that I got last Christmas. The pants were way too long on me, but they'd probably fit you. They just might be a bit too wide around the waist...Well it has drawstrings, so we can make it work."

He stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. Why had there been so much dust? Had it really been that long since he'd used most of this junk?

...Yeah probably.

Justin scrunched his brow in confusion. "What are they like?"

He'd never worn anything besides scrubs before. Didn't see any sort of clothing that wasn't white, really, save the Director. The doctors wore white scrubs under their white coats, the nurses wore them too, and he was pretty sure that guards didn't wear what would be described as "clothes". Probably armour. But anyways.

"I've never worn those before." he stated simply, just in case James minded him asking.

James blinked. He should have expected that, the kid had been raised in a hospital after all.

"I'll go get them for you and you can see for yourself. It would be pretty hard to describe it if you've never worn any before," James said, making his way to his dresser and sliding open the top drawer. He rifled through the neatly folded contents, muttering a little, before pulling out a pair of red plaid pj pants and a simple black t-shirt.

For a split second he considered tossing them to Justin, then thought better of it and instead walked over to him and handed them over.

"You can change in my bathroom, it's the second door on the wall by my dresser. I'll change really fast while you're changing, and then we can get the mattress in here."