Greya's POV...

Three sessions into biofeedback and Lox is doing exceptionally well. No side effects, yet.

I've probably jinxed him now. Nothing's ever this easy for us. Some kind of adverse reaction is brewing for sure, although we have no idea what or when, so I should probably try and enjoy the peace we"re experiencing now before all hell breaks loose.

Lox is sitting at the piano in my living room. He's been here playing a lot in the past week. Any time we're not in class or at a therapy appointment, he's at the piano. I won't complain. I love listening to the music he creates and he's happy creating it. Maybe sitting in front of the piano calms his mind, maybe its sort of his own personal therapy. The best kind in my opinion.

I walk up to him as he plays a childish melody and he turns towards me, smiling as I sit next to him. "This is th...the first song m...my mother taught me. I w...was about four." he says.

"Really? you remember that?"

He nods and continues playing. He's only using his right hand as his left hangs at his side, next to me.

"I remember m...more when I s...sit here playing. Mostly of m...my mother, some of y...you."

He slightly lifts his left arm, his hand brushes against my thigh. I know he wants to use it so I help him by supporting his forearm and elbow up so his fingers can reach the keys. "Thank y...you."

He begins playing a new song and I immediately recognize it.

"Do y...you remember this s...song?"

I nod this time with the biggest smile on my face.

"I can't believe you remember. This is the first song I ever heard you play. You were so mesmerizing, you still are," I playfully nudge his shoulder with mine.

"So you've been here all week playing songs and it's helping you remember things?" This is great! What better way to help him with his past than doing something he loves and is good at. Better than any nightmare or seizure his therapist warned us of.

"I'm r...remembering my m...mom teaching me h...how to play. She also h...home schooled me. She taught m...me everything. Makes the strange m...mentally ill woman I w...woke up to in the h...hospital, seem r...real now. Still d...doesn't explain why she c...couldn't bear to b...be near me when I w...was recovering. When I n...needed her. I remember h...how kind and l...loving she was towards m...me when I was y...young, then one day th...that all stopped. Like I d...did something wrong and caused h...her to stop loving me."

He begins playing a different song. A sad song. I want to cry for him, hug him, but I'm supporting his arm so he can keep playing if this is what he needs.

"I r...remember the day she l...left us when w...we were kids. I d...didn't understand why. I w...was so lost and angry. I thought she l...loved us, me. And when she c...came back for that short t...time when I w...was in the hospital and rehab, she could b...barely look at me."

Oh God, this is why I didn't want him to remember. He has too many hurtful memories.

As he plays I can feel the pain he's suffered, through his music. The sounds are raw and pure and full of emotion. Anyone listening would be able to feel it too without even knowing his background story. The talent he has is beyond comprehension. His mom may have taught him the basics but he did the rest on his own. His ability to play this well is from within him and him alone.

I catch myself staring at him. My lost soldier, still fighting everyday, still trying to find himself.

He notices me staring at him and smiles. The song gracefully changes to something more upbeat.

"You're looking at m...me the same way y...you looked at m..me the first day I walked into y...your seventh grade c...class. You made m...me believe there w...was hope. I still feel that w...way when I'm with y...you."

The biofeedback therapy is working and I'm realizing how unprepared I really am. He's remembering important experiences that are stirring up many emotions. One thing is for sure though...

I pull his left hand with me, away from the piano's keys. He stops playing and turns his body towards me, searching my eyes.

I grab both his hands and hold them in mine. He's right, I am looking at him the same way I did that day way back in time. There's no other way. I see his pain, his courage, his strength and I love him with everything I have.

"Your parents may not have shown you what love is, but you are loved. You're loved by all of us who support you everyday. I love you. The day that tall handsome boy walked into my class and looked at me with those blue eyes that held so much inside them...I knew then I'd always love you."

"We've l...loved each other a l...long time huh?" He smirks.

"In our own corky ways," I smirk back.

"Seriously though, what ever happens with your memory, good or bad, I'm right here with you. I'm not going anywhere. And you need to know that what your parents did was never your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. They are the ones who didn't deserve to have an incredible son like you."

"I kn...know Love. Thank y...you for believing in m...me. And y...you know I'm not g...going anywhere either right? I c...can't imagine what y...you went through when y...you thought Jack killed me. I know y...you still worry about l...losing me, but I'm here n...now, always."

"I know. I guess our pasts have a way of messing with us."

"Yeah, they d...do."

"We have the place to ourselves tonight, what should we do? Order out and watch some movies?"

"Sounds g...good to m...me."

While Chase and Liam are spending the night with friends and Fynn is at Tim's, Lox and I enjoy a quiet night together on the couch eating Chinese food and watching movies.

I think we both needed a night off with some peace and quiet. There's so much going on and too much we've been worrying about. It's nice to be snuggled into each others arms, enjoying this time together.

"What would you say to moving in with me? Here with Chase and I and Fynn when he's around." My question is unexpected to him but I've been thinking of this for a while.

I'm laying half on top of him with my head on his chest while he softly rubs my arm with his fingers. He stops rubbing my arm when I as the question.

"Um. I m...mean I want to. But there's Liam and I...I am a lot ...are y...you sure y...you want that?"

I lift my head to look at him. I know exactly what he's trying to say. He thinks I haven't seen all the obstacles he goes through on a daily basis and I'll think it's too much. He's worried about Liam and doesn't want to leave him alone, but I've already thought about that.

"First of all, you're not a lot and I want you here. Besides, we're together almost every night as it is and it would be easier to live together. Also, I know you want Liam to have a better college experience since he's already missed out on so much. Why not ask him if he wants to live on campus next semester? He'll have a roommate, the whole deal."

"I do w...want that for h...him. I'll talk to h...him about it and see what h...he thinks. Only if y...you're sure about m...me living here."

"I've never been more sure. I want you with me, I want to be able to snuggle with you like this, fall asleep and wake up next to you, and face every day together. I spent too many years without you."

"I w...want that t...too."

I lay my head back on his chest and listen to his beating heart while he continues lightly stroking my arm. There are times that I'm still afraid he isn't real, that he's a part of my imagination that my tragic repressed memories have brought to life. I need him here to help me heal so I'm not afraid he'll vanish from me again. My therapist would tell me to wait, that we shouldn't rush into living together until we've both demolished our demons. What she doesn't realize is, being apart from each other would hurt us more.

"Grey?"

"B," I mimic the way he says my name.

"Y...you're my calm. Y...you always have been and always will b...be."

"And you're mine," I whisper. My ear against his sternum, listening to his heart. "You're my calm too."