Aiden watches Axe putter around their tiny kitchen and wonders if he'll ever remember who he once was. Mikhail had said sometimes after terrible shocks, people just lost their memories and didn't get them back, and said, trying to cut out all the medical terminology, that he wasn't particularly surprised that Axe had no recollection of his past. "Think about it," the doctor had put it during a phone call two weeks previous. "If you were him, would you honestly want to be that person again?"
He hadn't had a response for the doctor then, and isn't sure he has one now. Axe's former life had been pretty luxurious, and if things hadn't turned out the way they did, the redhead could be one of DC's most eligible bachelors. Instead, he is living in a cheap apartment on the other side of the country with someone he doesn't realize is there to protect him from his past. Aiden supposes it's for the best that Axe doesn't remember, it makes hiding that much easier. His own identity had been destroyed and remade, even though it was highly unlikely that people from Axe's old life would think to trace the rookie bodyguard who had barely any ties to the missing scion of a fortune. So unlikely, that the same people who had relocated Aiden and Axe hadn't bothered to change his twin sister's name or location.
He expects that it's best Axe not return to DC, as, while he had money enough that he would never have to work, there were enemies of his parents still around. "Until they are all gone or sufficiently believe he is no threat," Aiden remembers Axe's grandfather saying, "you are not to bring him back here or let him have any contact with any of us. Do not call me."
"Hey. Argos." Axe is suddenly in front of Aiden, touching his forehead. "You sick? I've been calling you."
Argos. That's who he is now, and will be for the foreseeable future. Aiden bats Axe's hand away lightly. "What is it?" he asks, almost warily. Axe has been reading up on current events and asking rather interesting questions. Such as what everyone's problem was with same sex marriage, and who are these idiots running for the presidency who want to pull out of the Middle East right now and completely destroy everything that they've managed to get somewhat right over there.
Axe points out the window at the setting sun. "Shabbat."
Argos hides a smile, wondering what Axe's Bible-thumping devoutly Baptist grandmother would say if she knew her grandson had decided to be Jewish right along with who he thought was a complete stranger. He sets down the computer parts he was fiddling with, and leans back in his chair. "So it is."
This isn't the way Aiden pictured his life going at all, but now that it is, he's rather curious as to how it will all turn out. Judging by his companion's outlook on life-Who I was has nothing on who I'm going to become- he's in for one hell of a time.

For a moment, Brandon is seven years old and alone on the playground. He is approached by a boy who says, "Hey, let's be friends" and "Are you any good at racing? Ev and me, we're the fastest people in the world! Well, just on the playground, but someday, someday..."
What the hell's going on?
"Brandon?! Fuck, somebody help!"
Brandon is eight years old for half a moment, giving into an older boy's order to punch at him and actually making it through the other boy's defense. His name is Justice, and Brandon lets himself be semi-adopted by Justice, and Justice is welcomed into the fold.
"Hold on, buddy, the ambulance is coming, just hang in there, okay? Goddammit, Mal, what the hell happened to him?!"
"I don't know! Ev and I kept going, he was right behind us-"
"No one's blaming you, Mal-"
"The hell no one isn't! Donny? Donny, stay with me, c'mon!"
I'm not going anywhere, Brandon distantly thinks. Am I?
Twelve years old again, Justice is starting high school and Brandon wonders if that means he won't be hanging with the trio of seventh graders he left behind. "Moron," Justice says affectionately, ruffling Brandon's hair. "No way I'll leave you behind."
It's not hard to believe him.
"Justice, you have to get out of the way, let the paramedics do their job-"
"Damn you, Evan, I'm not leaving him. I fucking promised-"
"No one's asking you to break that promise, you bastard, just move and they'll let you get in the ambulance with them. Ev and I'll bring your car. You just stay with Brandon."
Year fourteen is full of awkward limbs and changing voices and sneaking out to take advantage of the fact that that Justice now has his driver's license. "Don't worry," Justice assures him, laughing as Brandon trips over his too-big feet again and Evan's laugh makes a funny sound. "It'll be over before you know it."
Fifteen and he learns to drive while he and his best friends aren't talking and are trying to live without each other. Gets his first kiss and wonders why everyone thinks it's such a big deal. Goes back to being best friends with the others again and spends what's left of summer wreaking forgivable havoc. Sixteen and watching Evan's football games, Mal's concerts. Watching Justice pack up to leave, but "I'll be back, and we can work together if you want."
"We're losing vitals!"
"Sir, we need you to wait here."
"Donny, I'll be right there when you wake up, okay?"
For a brief moment, Brandon is seventeen and not quite fast enough to avoid the incoming car and dying.
And then nothing at all.
Brandon opens his eyes and gags a little on the scent of lemon cleaner and antiseptic. Justice is in a chair next to the bed, hand close to but not touching Brandon's own, fast asleep. Mal and Evan are sitting against the wall under the window, Evan asleep with his head on Mal's shoulder, Mal plucking idly at his violin. "Just missed him," Mal says, tipping his head towards Justice as much as he can without dislodging Evan. He smiles that too everything-but-the- truth smile he has. "Scared the shit out of us, you know. It's been over a day."
"Here...entire time?" Brandon asks hoarsely. He tries to be quiet because Justice looks like he's had a hell of a time just waiting and needs all the sleep he can get.
Mal looks at him oddly. "Where else would we be?"
Brandon turns his head a little and finds Justice watching him tiredly. "Welcome back, Donny."
The smaller teen closes his eyes and twitches his hand so it's touching Justice's. "Good to be back."