"Dad, why do people kiss?"

"People kiss when they're in love, Bill,"

**
"Dad, why do people call me dumb?"

"They don't understand how you think, Billy,"

**
"Dad, today my teacher was telling us about marriage. Can you marry your best friend?"

"You should always marry someone who's your best friend,"

"Cool! Can I marry Ted?"

"No, Billy. Marriage means you spend the rest of your life with someone you love,"

"But dad, I love Ted. I'd like to spend my life with him. That would be awesome!"

"You'll understand when you're older, Billy,"

**
"Dad, why does Ted's dad hit him?"

"That's not our business, Bill,"

"But he comes to school and he's got bruises. I'm scared he's gonna start to...to...infest... and then he's gonna be sad,"

"Just try to be there for him, Billy,"

**
Bill had been having these vivid flashbacks all day. They would come, then slip from his mind like a dream right as you wake up from it.

He couldn't think of the details, just vague images and voices, his dad answering all the questions he had as a kid, Ted being sad...

He knew it was real, though. He remembered one day in second grade, Ted came in to class with a bruise on his cheek. He was really upset and said his dad had hit him. Bill was angry; as angry as a little second grader could be. He went home to ask his dad about it, but his dad made him drop the subject. He told him to be there for Ted.

Be there? He was always there for Ted. They had the same class. He was always there.

Then slowly, like waking up from a dream, Bill forgot what he had said to his dad, forgot what he told Ted, forgot about the way his friend trembled back in second grade.

He remembered, instead, an incident in fourth grade, when Ted came to school. They changed for gym class, and his back was red and welted. Ted told Bill that his dad pushed him, and when he fell, he crashed into a table and had to run from the house.

Bill had never liked Mr. Logan, and now he had a good reason. He went home to his dad to ask why Mr. Logan did these mean things.

Bill was a kid full of questions, as younger kids often are. He found that this was true now, as he lost his memory. He was asking Ted a whole lot more than he usually did.

***

Bill stayed with Ted the night after he passed out, not wanting to miss a moment with his friend if he truly only had a month left.

He found himself dreaming, and with every memory he was losing, it made him more confused. What was just a dream, and what was reality?

He finally realized why he was awake at 2 in the morning, everything hitting him like a light switch being turned on.

Ted was awake. Ted being awake woke him up, because he felt himself being watched. He slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Bill, you're awake!"

Bill looked over at Ted, who had bags under his eyes. He was sitting on the foot of his bed with a journal in his lap, squinting through the moonlight to try and write something down.

Ted snapped his journal shut and turned to Bill. Ted was sitting up without a shirt on, and it looked like he'd been sweating pretty hard.

"Yeah dude... what are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Every time I went to sleep I dreamt that you were erased from time. I was try'na get people to remember you, but no one did...," he mumbled to himself.

Bill put a hand on Ted's shoulder, "I've been having dreams, but I'm not sure if they're dreams or memories, dude..."

Ted looked over at his friend, "Maybe I can help. What happened?"

"Well there was this one dream where I drove to this freak show, and this guy totally mutated the side of my face. I don't think it's real, but it felt really... real, dude."

Ted shook his head, happy to help. "Definitely false, Bill."

"Then there was this time in fourth grade...," Bill kinda looked at his feet, avoiding saying what the memory was, for fear of it being true, "You came to school all bruised 'cuz your dad pushed you into a table."

Ted hung his head, "That was real."

Bill furrowed his eyebrows.

"Does he still do it?"

Ted couldn't look Bill in the eyes. He snatched his lower lip in his teeth, then nodded slowly.

Bill went red with embarrassment and anger. "You're dad's a jerk, then. I forgot that he could be mean. I'm sorry, Ted."

"Don't be," Ted dismissed, "you've always been there for me."

At least that's one dream he didn't have to ask about. His dad really did tell him to support Ted.

"Sorry I gotta ask all these questions, dude. My timeline is most scrambled,"

"It's okay, dude. When Deacon was younger, he always pestered me with questions. This is much less pestering, more informative," Ted nodded curtly.

Bill tried to bury himself under the blankets in Ted's room. No matter what people said, Bill had never once in his life cared about sleeping at Ted's. Any other dude: no way. But Ted was... different somehow.

"Go to bed, dude. Rufus is figuring this all out, and I'll be right here if you need me," Bill said lazily, pulling the blanket over his chest.

Ted looked around the room, then stashed his song journal under his bed where no one looked. He stared out the window for a moment longer, then shivered as the sweat on his back finally dried.

He, almost reluctantly, pulled his Led Zeppelin shirt over his head before getting under the blankets, making sure to leave room between him and Bill.

He was just about to go to sleep, when Bill asked another question. Embarrassment made his voice crack and shake.

"Ted? This one last one is bugging me because I can't remember. I'd totally remember something like this, but I just... can't! Did we ever.... ugh.... did we ever.... kiss?"

Ted shook his head hard and fast, redness apparent on his cheeks in the moonlight.

"No way, dude. That's definitely a dream."

"Thought so," Bill said quietly. "I'd most definitely remember that."

"Go to sleep, Bill," Ted said quickly, blushing slightly and hoping Bill didn't see. "Don't worry about dreams. Or the future, either. We're Stallyns. We can do this."

Bill shut his eyes but didn't sleep, and Ted turned over to stare at the moon again.

What on earth was he going to do in a month, when none of this was real?