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Title: never be the same
Description: [t a g : J U S T I N]


mathias sterling case - October 26, 2011 10:21 AM (GMT)
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fall of 2006<br>
st. remigius hospital

He had initially woken up a week ago, or what he had been told was a week ago. With how often he was falling in and out of sleep it was hard to keep his days straight. Throw in an ever present ache in his body and searing pain that felt like hot pokers being scraped on the inside of his skull and it all made for a rather unpleasant hospital stay thus far. An older couple had taken to visiting him regularly- saying not only were they his parents, but they'd been present when he first woke up. Though judging from how that memory was nothing more then a child's interpretive finger painting rendition of a rainbow, Big Foot could have been there for all he knew. Regardless of his lacking the ability to recall if he'd ever seen such a piece of art, the phrase seemed to fit the memory he <i>did</i> have.<p>

Still, the red haired couple had told him his name, among other things. Which was more than what he had to go off of when he first woke. It was strange, he knew what things were- but at the same time didn't. He would look at a table, think table- say table- but it was the only image he had tied to the word. To him, as it was now, a table was the small wooden thing squished between two arm chairs in the corner of his room. Initially he'd shared a room, but at some point they had moved him and he simply woke up in the sterile single cell with a north facing window so as to minimize his exposure to any direct sun light. Which was fine by him, the rays of light made it feel like someone was setting his brain on fire. Which, again, while not something he actually knew (or anyone else for that matter) seemed to fit his proverbial needs of the moment.<p>

Propped up in his bed, thanks to a rather meticulous elderly nurse and a mechanical bed, he'd been instructed to keep movements, stress, and anything else that might be judged taxing to a minimum. Despite his assurances however, the nurse gave him a cross look and had made him feel like a school boy caught lying in church- which was truly odd considering thus far he didn't strike himself as a particularly religious person. She'd then left him with a file that his 'parents' and doctor had compiled and told him to stay put. As if he could willingly move after the way she tucked his sheets. Spending a good ten minutes slowly working the cotton shackles loose he eventually picked up the- manila? Yes, that was it- manila folder from the movable tray like thing- that didn't seem very tableish to him but apparently was one- positioned over his lap and flipped open the cover. Like his current position, the papers and photos had been meticulous compiled. Hole punched and fitted into the folder with something he could only describe as an authoritarian level of precision. He was a bit disappointed however, for he'd seen most of the papers before. <p>

The couple had said his name was Mathias Sterling Case- questionable naming creativity aside- as of October twenty-fourth he was twenty years old, was currently attending a local university as an undeclared major and had spent most if not all of his life in this town (which was apparently called Dawning). He was their eldest son and according to one of the pictures- had at least one younger brother. Justin. Brows furrowed some at the name, were they seriously that inept? Justin Case? He flipped the picture over to look at the other, shorter, readhead who- like him apparently- had been forced to pose for the picture. <br>
Something felt off about the image, as though it was showing him red and he was saying green. Setting it aside for later inspection he moved onto skimming a brief copy of what looked like his medical records. He'd broken his right arm twice, his left three times (was he clumsy or something?), and had suffered a near break of his right ankle. Adding this new information to the scars he'd noticed, and taken to inspecting once they let him do the task of bathing itself on his own (but under supervision), Mathias- or Mat as he apparently preferred to be called- could only conclude he was either a klutz, or partook in some rather contact oriented activities.<p>

A car accident. That's what they said it had been, but for being in a car accident he felt more like he'd been hit by one. Though he wasn't sure if that was simply because it fit or if he actually had been before. He'd barely been able to move at first and even now there was a marrow deep ache throughout his entire body that he couldn't seem to escape. The nurse had given him something for his head when she had come in to prop him up, but either it had yet kick in or simply wasn't working. Setting the folder aside he once again picked up the picture and stared at it, as though expecting it to change- or perhaps vanish entirely. Twenty years were simply <i>gone</i>. Somehow even he had trouble stomaching the idea. Two decades worth of memories just gone, and no matter how he tried to reach for something, <i>anything</i> it was like trying to catch air. There was simply nothing there to grab, let alone chase after.<br>
Chewing the inside of his cheek he flipped the picture over once again to look at the names on the back. <i>'Mathias (13) and Justin (8), 1999'</i>. So the age gap was five years- give or take the finer calculations of birthdays, again he turned the picture in his hand and ran a finger over the image as if it would rub off. They looked like they were in hell- or at least he did, the smaller one- who he assumed was Justin- looked like he wanted to be anywhere but under the gazebo that was the photo's backdrop. Somehow it contradicted the words the cou- Mom and Dad had been telling him. However his suspicions were likely unjustified, nothing more than paranoia born from his old roommate watching too much of some show called Law and Order.<p>

Finally looking to the only other person in the room Mat stared quietly at the fellow redhead. He looked about fifteen? Maybe sixteen? It was hard to tell, but somehow he felt he was in the ballpark. They'd met before, only in the company of others mind you, but they'd met all the same. Each time the teen had lingered absently in the background simply staring at him, as though expecting him to break out into dance or song. Mat wasn't sure why, but it was unnerving and comforting at the same time. Swallowing softly he felt his mind hesitating for some reason at the idea of speaking to the other ginger. Pushing the irrationality aside Mat spoke in a voice he was still getting used to.<br>
<b>"You're,"</b> He found himself glancing at the photo then to the boy. <b>"Justin,"</b> For whatever reason he paused before adding hesitantly; <b>"Right?"</b> As if he was getting him mixed up with someone else- which was impossible considering the only faces he was familiar with at this point were those of their 'parents', his doctor and a few of the nurses. He somehow felt like he was trapped in a foreign county- he knew <i>what</i> things were he'd established that much,but he didn't know <i>how</i> they ought to be.

<p><hr>
<div style="font-size: 10; text-align: center;">let me just say <b>OMG THIS TURNED OUT LONG!! SORRY!! DON'T FEEL OBLIGATED TO MATCH</b>, that mattie is wearing <B>TYPICAL PATIENT GARB- LOOK MA NO PANTS!</B> and that there are <b>1277</b> words for <b>JUSTIE / MARZBAR</b>
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justin freider case - November 12, 2011 06:21 PM (GMT)
[dohtml]<center><DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 375PX; FONT-FAMILY: GEORGIA; TEXT-ALIGN: JUSTIFY;"><p>What were regular fifteen year olds like?
<p>Did they turn the up music as loud as they can just because they could? Did they doodle on the desks with cute little hearts because they surely didn’t care about some beef between England and France? Did they stay up all night talking on the phone about all their should have, could have, would haves? Were they all rebels without a cause dying their hair every imaginable color in the crayon box and piercing any where they see fit? Yes, no? Justin Case didn’t know, and he surely didn’t give a fuck.
<p>Anyone who would say that Justin Freider Case was just another regular fifteen year old was lying through their teeth. There was nothing regular about him, and there surely wasn’t anything regular about sitting in a hospital room with your older brother who had suddenly became a horribly pathetic amnesiac patient. How did his brother fall under such an unfortunate circumstance you ask? A horrible car crash. Ha ha ha, just kidding. That’s what everyone else If that were the case then maybe the whole situation wouldn’t be as fucked up as it would be. Maybe things could have been considered normal. But they weren’t. Dearest big brother ended up where he was because he had tried protecting his two little brothers from monsters trying to kill them all. Great job Mattie, except you now have a younger brother six feet under the ground. Not that you know. You don’t know anything.
<p>You don’t know anything.
<p>A tall, lanky teenager with cropped ginger hair and a busted lip sat in the furthest corner of the room, leaned back with arms crossed as his ice blue eyes staring right into the boy in front of him. His eyes scanning, analyzing, scrutinizing. Justin looked at him, almost expecting Mathias to throw away the hospital bed covers and tear the room apart. To leave holes in the walls and call out all the bullshit their dearest mommy and daddy have been filling his head with. Justin expected Mathias to grab him by the shoulders and look him up and down making sure he was alright with the busted lip, giving him a good right hook to the jaw afterwards for taking a hit from anyone other than Mathias himself. But Mathias didn’t do any of those things. He just sat there in his quaint little hospital bed taking looking dumbfounded.
<p>”You’re Justin … right?”
<p>The teen’s eyes tore away from the patient for a moment as he unfolded his arms, his hands wrapping around the arms of the chair. A small crack could be heard from the teen’s unsightly death grip on the chair. Yes he was fucking Justin Case, he was your own damn brother. Your only damn brother since the other one is dead. Can’t confuse him for Jayden anymore. Nope, nope, nope. You don’t even know who Jayden is because in your new world he doesn’t exist. Fuck. He hated this. He hated all of this. Justin hated his parents for not being there that night. Justin hated Mathias for putting himself in danger to save them that night. Justin hated Mathias for forgetting. Justin hated Mathias for forgetting and then believing their parents. Justin hated himself for playing in their parent’s games.
<p>That was what Justin had hated the most. He hated himself for playing along. He knew he could have easily told Mathias everything right then and there. He could have told the poor boy everything. He would make Mathias know that their parents are lying fucks and everything in that nifty little manila folder of his was fake. Shake him down until the old Mathias had awoken and then get punched out by the older boy for shaking him down in the first place. Justin could have told him, Justin could have made him remember. But he wasn’t going to; both he and their parents knew that.
<p>Justin’s eyes glanced towards the closed door. A small scoff escaped his lips, his parents had finally left Mathias alone in the room with Justin because they knew he wasn’t going to do anything that would threatened their precious new son. That’s right; with Mathias’ memories gone Mathias wasn’t a threat. He wasn’t the wild, untamable child that even they themselves feared; he wasn’t the monster that even the devil Justin Case quivered before. He was just a beautifully oblivious innocent now, which left the job of terrorizing their parents to Justin now. If Papa and Mama Case thought that they had actually put Justin Case into place then they would have hell to pay later on. There was no beating anything into the young devil, both figuratively or physically.
<p><center>_________________________</center>
<p>”Now what are you going to tell him Justin?” the man asked standing over the teen, holding him by the collar of his shirt.
<p>“Everything.” Justin said through gritted teeth looking defiantly up towards the older man.
<p>The man had glared daggers at him and without a word his fist collided straight into his son’s mouth. “Wrong answer” he had said.
<p>“I tend to be wrong most of the time” Justin sneered at his father not even bothering to wipe away the blood that was now trickling down his lip.
<p>“You and I both know you won’t say anything”
<p>“Then stop wasting my time.”


<p><center>_________________________</center>

<p>Papa Case could give Justin a busted lip any time, hell he could get creative and actually stab him in the back one day. Just because Justin was playing the game didn’t mean he was following the rules.
<p>Licking his lips, the lingering taste of blood still in his mouth Justin finally returned his gaze towards Mathias. He gave an innocent smile as he stood up. “No, my name’s Jayden” Justin had said proceeding to take his jacket off only to reveal purple bruises trailing along his pale arms. He watched Mathias in the corner of his eye as he went to hang his jacket up on the coat rack, waiting at the slightest response at that name but to no avail Mathias just seemed to remain unphased. “Kidding of course. Except I don’t think you would get it. You don't even remember me.” Justin had said strolling over to Mathias’ beside. He looked down at Mathias, probably the first time he had ever, and an empty smile graced his lips. “You don't remember a thing.”


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mathias sterling case - November 16, 2011 06:56 PM (GMT)
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Mathias never once too his eyes off the teenager, some primal part of him not wanting to look away. He couldn’t put his finger on why however. For he knew it wasn’t a fear—his heart was thudding away in the same lackadaisical manner it had been since he’d woken up. So what <i>was</i> it then? Ginger brows knitted together in frustration as the words he wanted, no needed, in order to describe the feeling simply weren’t there.<p>
Or more accurately they were, but the connotations they brought, that they should have had, were gone. Giving labels such as ‘anger’ as much impact as the ‘table’ that was squished between the two armchairs across the room. His mind oblivious to what such words had once meant, not just to him, but to the teenager who was in the room with him. Still, it wasn’t as though there was nothing as there had been with the adults he’d simply stared at in dumbfounded wonder. There was tension in his stomach when he looked at the teenager, and all he could think of was the need to apologize to the boy. Again however the why he felt that way was gone.<p>
Hazeled blue-green eyes, once consumed with emotion a little over a week ago now peered indifferently at the youth who seemed to be anything but content with the situation. <i>Get in line,</i> Mathias thought bitterly, for one could hardly enjoy not knowing anything. The Doctor had said his fluctuating emotions were normal, however that hardly made him feel better as Mathias felt a growing annoyance with the boy. Though it didn’t seem to have anything to do with the youth in particular, or did it? His mind was getting lost as it swam through the possible roots of the heated knot that was forming in his stomach and throat. The hot pokers on the inside of his skull growing steadily stronger the more he tried to think.<p>
<i>Jayden?</i> His mind repeated, the name coming out in a soft murmur that only Mathias himself heard. Again brows drew together, that name didn’t fit the boy somehow, it was close but Justin seemed to fit bet—the explosion of light in his vision caught Mathias off guard. What little light the room had was erupting in white flares, burning with an intensity he could only think of comparing to the sun. Triggering a sharp intake of air as Mathias pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes as the searing heat of the flare continued to burn into his optic nerve. So much for those bloody painkillers.<p>
<b>”Of course I wouldn’t <i>get it</i>,”</b> He found himself almost snapping, hands still pressed to his closed eyes. His head felt like it was between to cinder blocks as spots danced amongst the pitch black underside of his eye lids. Nevertheless Mathias didn’t need to have his lacking memory pointed out to him. Dropping his hands carefully he cracked his eyes. It still hurt but it wasn’t blinding anymore. Dragging his stare back to the youth he was greeted by the discoloration of the boy’s skin as the jacket was removed. <p>
It almost made the teen appear sickly, the way the purple rimmed in a healing greenish blue contrasted with the pale skin. Had he been in the accident too? No—that couldn’t—Mathias broke his gaze away from the frame and flipped through the useless pages. The irritation within him slowly climbing as the sheets of neatly types letters yielded nothing he deemed useful. Glancing once more to the teen who he could only assume was Justin since the boy seemed to ignore his initial question. Justin Case. Justin. Jus- his mind struggled with the ending that resided on the tip of his tongue.<p>
<b>”Sorry, but you’re right. I don’t remember <i>a thing</i>,”</b> He confirmed <b>”So I wouldn’t be taking it so personally if I was you.”</b> The tone still felt a bit off on his tongue, which did nothing to improve his mood as he looked up at the teen standing beside his bed with a smile that seemed fit for a doll. Listless, empty, <i>fake</i>. But couldn’t that just be how the boy was? No… There was something off with the boy as well, but Mathias just couldn’t name it. Couldn’t place the origin of the bruises or the split lip- none of it.<p>
<b>”Where did you get the bruises?”</b> The tone he could only think to call cold anger surprised Mathias, even more so in how naturally it seemed to come from his lips without so much as a brief hesitation. <b>”And the lip.”</b> It was like being trapped on a rollercoaster at night. Even if he’d ridden it countless times before, somehow all the turns, dips and risings were catching him off guard in the pitch black, throwing him every which way. The words coming of their own accord as the boy looked down on him from beside the bed. <p>
Down. Mathias felt his nose wrinkle. He didn’t like that word for some reason. Didn’t like how it seemed to make him feel small before a teenager he instinctively knew was smaller than himself. Again he felt something shift, so deep within him it was hard to tell if it was a biological trigger, or if it was part of his old self. Muffles whisper that rose up making his skin tingle, but it was still too muffled for it to mean anything. However it hadn’t been there when their parents had spoken with him, nor was it there when the doctors were prattling on and on…<p>
Hazel eyes narrowed as he continued to study Justin who was so familiar yet so much a stranger all at once. It was strange, memory or not he knew it was, to feel so distrusting of someone yet at ease. <b>”There’s nothing here saying you were in the accident,”</b> He said motioning to the papers he was starting to truly harbor a hatred for. <p>
<b>”So what was it?”</b> Then again perhaps he was over reacting? Didn’t all teenagers roughhouse? He knew the marks were fresh, or at least nothing too old- how? Mathias didn’t know. Aside from the flicks of blood from the lip that’d gone unchecked from the spit lip there were no signs, but something simply told him they were and Mathias was quickly learning his gut feelings seemed to be good enough to follow with a blind faith.<p>
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justin freider case - December 4, 2011 04:23 AM (GMT)
[dohtml]<center><DIV STYLE="WIDTH: 375PX; FONT-FAMILY: GEORGIA; TEXT-ALIGN: JUSTIFY;">”Where did you get the bruises?”
<p>For a slight moment Justin’s face had fell from hearing his brother ask that in that specific tone of voice. Justin couldn’t help but stare at the twenty year old patient for a moment, his eyes narrowing down on him, an almost concerned look washing over his face. A sudden memory had begun to flood into Justin’s head.
<p><center>____________________________________</center>
“Stay still.”
<p>A slight sniffle emitted from a young ginger-haired thirteen year old boy as he sat on the bathroom counter. He winced as his identical twin brother pressed a wet cloth against his swollen black eye. The frail boy bit his lip to try to hold back his sobs but as soon as his brother pulled away tears began to stream down his face. He rubbed at his eyes furiously making hiccupping pathetically.
<p>“For fuck’s sakes Jayden, stop crying. We don’t have time for this!” the other boy hissed. “We need to hurry and cover that black eye up before he comes home”
<p>“You shouldn’t have done it Justin” Jayden whimpered at his bottom lip quivered. He watched as his brother rolled his eyes at him turning his attention towards the makeup bag that Justin had stolen from their mother’s room. “Justin” Jayden said gripping the edge of the counter. He pouted slightly as his brother continued to ignore him. “Justin listen to me” Jayden whined.
<p>God Jayden. Just shut the fuck up. Justin sighed quietly as he continued to keep his attention trained on finding what they had needed. Why did they have to be pale anyways? Does no one realize how easy a fucking bruise shows up when you’re pale? God, to think that their mother would at least have some foundation. She was a woman after all, wasn’t she? Justin pawed through the entire bag.
<p>“Justin you could have killed him!”
<p>“It doesn’t matter if I could have killed him!” Justin yelled finally fed up with his brother’s annoying cries. He threw the makeup bag across the bathroom, seizing his twin by the shoulders. “I didn’t kill him, but Mattie will if he finds out what he did to you. So if you want the fucking asshole alive then you better listen to me and shut the fuck up.” Pulling out a knife after he had found out a boy was beating up his own twin brother was nothing compared to what their older brother would do. Justin would have simply sliced the kid up some and left it at that. But not their older brother. Their older brother would have torn him apart and have left nothing to the imagination. He was insane. He was wild. He was the very thing that struck fear in not only Jayden’s heart, but Justin’s.
<p>Glancing towards the spilled contents of the makeup bag Justin spotted the foundation he was looking for. Finally. Tossing the small compact towards Jayden, Justin turned towards the sink spitting out the remaining blood that collected in his mouth from his own busted lip he earned during the fight. “Justin I-“
<p>Jayden’s sentence had cut off from the sound of a slammed door. The twins both looked at each other, a shared fear growing in their eyes. Justin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t come out until you covered your eye, and keep your sleeves down” Justin whispered hurrying towards the bathroom exit.
<p>Mattie was home.

<p><center>____________________________________</center>

<p>Brought back to reality as Mattie mentioned the manila folder Justin’s sense had eased. Thinking about it now, the reaction was natural. Obviously if someone saw another person with bruises like Justin they would begin to question. It was natural. A natural response for a normal person. Phew. For a second Justin almost thought that the old Mattie had awoken. But he didn’t. He was still dead asleep somewhere deep down in the New Mattie’s head. Or maybe he was just dead entirely and this new Mattie was all there was left. It was beginning to look like that anyhow. A laugh escaped Justin’s lips at the idea that the older brother he had lived to fear who had seemed immortal was killed by amnesia. Simple amnesia.
<p>Justin wondered if this new Mattie would catch on as quickly as the old one did. Justin turned around, a smile continuing to plaster his face as he had remembered the rest of that day. Jayden had walked out of the bathroom, sleeves down and makeup done so well that even Justin couldn’t see a trace of Jayden’s black eye. Mattie had walked right past Jayden, and for a brief moment the twins had thought they were safe until Mattie had turned around throwing Jayden against the wall demanding to know what had happened. Justin never figured out how Mattie knew, but then again Justin was convinced Mattie knew everything back then. Now he knows nothing. Ha ha ha. What, was that not funny?
<p>Justin contemplated the response he was going to give Mattie. He fell? Pfft. Where did Justin fall from, a fucking cliff? Mattie may have been oblivious, but he was still his brother. He deserved some type of respect. ”It’s hard to believe, but not a lot of people like me” Justin said with a shrug. This was fact.
<p>Hearing a knock at the door Justin went to open it, stepping aside for the nurse and her little trolley of food. She looked at Justin and then at Mattie. “Awh, I’m glad to see you two darlings together again!” She said as she set Mattie’s tray of food on the table by his bedside. “You’ll return to being attached at the hip in no time, just like I remember!” the nurse giggled bidding her farewell. Justin waved a polite wave seeing her out.
<p>Bitch, you moved here last month, you don’t remember anything. Justin closed the door wondering how many people exactly did their parents get to play their little game. Ho hum. Turning around Justin made his way over to Mattie again, taking it upon himself to get comfortable. He sat on the foot of Mattie’s bed his legs crossed sitting a position where he was facing Mattie directly. He also took it upon himself to take Mattie’s piece of cake the nurse left him as his own. “You hate sweets” Justin informed taking a bite. This was also fact. See? Justin was being honest.
<p>“So come on Mattie” Justin said in-between bites now moving onto Mattie’s pudding cup “Forget the manila folder, ask me anything.”
I dare you


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