In the following days, Tristan found that his injuries were improving. His arm remained in a cast, but his legs were healing, and he'd been able to very gently wash part of his hair. As much as Caleb wanted to help him, he found that Tristan was keeping more and more to himself. Aside from meals, he'd often remain in his room. 

"I'm sure you have work to do" he'd said in defense of his isolation, "It's better if I stay out of your way."

It wasn't too dissimilar from those last few months with Jed. Except that Caleb would still try to talk to him.

Every day he would cook, and remind him to take his medicine; every day he would hold back the desire to push him further. From Caleb's perspective, as long as Tristan remained in his apartment, he was willing to be patient. It was strange that his memories had still not returned; Caleb was grateful of course, but he couldn't help but worry that Tristan was hiding his recovery and secretly plotting his escape. 

Occasionally he would test him with mistruths about their shared past, watching him closely for any glimmer of recognition. "Oh" Tristan would say without a second thought, "If you say so."

Since Tristan had been given a phone to use, he had wasted no time in researching how he could remain in Modesh if he left Caleb. The truth was that he couldn't. Even if he found a company to sponsor his stay, he would still have to leave and come back again. 

He was biding his time until he could at least discern the truth behind Caleb's motives. Whatever reason he had for abducting him, if they could work out some kind of deal between them, then maybe there would be a way for both of them to get what they wanted. The only problem would be having to admit to Caleb that he knew he was a fraud, and he wasn't sure what kind of reaction he would get in return.

'I remember the truth, but I want to stay in Modesh. What is it you want from me? Maybe we can help each other.' He could either accept or panic. Tristan didn't really know him at all, there was no telling whether calling him out would lead to much bigger problems than he was prepared to face. As long as he played dumb, Caleb seemed to leave him alone for the most part. 

Tristan was too scared to search anything on his new phone that could be traced back to his past. The few messages he sent to Tibur and Millie were innocuous enough, always aware that Caleb could be monitoring their conversations. As Caleb had begun to test Tristan's memory, Tristan began to test the limits of Caleb's patience. 

"I'd like to go back to work" Tristan announced at breakfast. 

Caleb put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

"When?" he asked him simply. 

"As soon as possible. I'll ask Tibur if I can stop by this afternoon and take a look around the store. Even with my arm like this, I'm sure there's something I can do there." 

Caleb picked up his knife and fork and continued eating. 

"Okay" he said, "I'll drive you over after lunch."

"You don't need to stay after you drop me off" Tristan declared boldly, "Just pick me up at the end of the day..." 

The request was reasonable. Not too challenging to Caleb's control, but granting him the freedom to be left outside alone. There wasn't much chance of him keeping watch on the store's CCTV... was there? Caleb agreed easily enough. 

"But if you're having a hard time and need to rest, give me a call and I'll pick you up early." 

After breakfast, Tristan went through his pre-shower ritual; carefully covering his cast and bandages with waterproof covers. Caleb had gone out and bought everything Tristan could possibily need, after the upsetting realization that his assistance would not be accepted.

Tristan finally faced himself in the mirror. He hadn't shaved in days, and his stubble had grown in odd directions. His eyes were tired and lifeless, his broken body covered in wounds and plastic, and his dark wavy hair was greasy and matted. No wonder Jed Left... Tristan showered and shaved, but his hair remained a problem he could not easily solve. Remembering the fear he had felt when he closed his eyes above the bathtub, he was curious; could he really trust Caleb to wash his hair?

His slippers dragged across the stone tiles as he shuffled into the living room. 

"Everything alright?" asked Caleb, surprised that Tristan would approach him unbidden. 

"My hair... Can you help me?" 

Caleb shut his laptop and followed him into the ensuite bathroom without a word. The bandage was unwrapped and the dressing examined. Tristan winced as Caleb's fingers gently touched the area around the wound. 

"We'll be back to have the stitches removed soon, then you should be able to wash your hair as normal, but for now I'll cover it." 

The hair around the cut had been shaved away, and after Caleb ran the water to a comfortable temperature, he cleaned it carefully and blowed it dry. His breath was warm, and the sensation was unnerving. 

The wound covered with a waterproof band-aid, Caleb began to gently untangle the knots with his fingers. Not since he was a child had someone pulled at Tristan's hair. 

"Sorry" said Caleb, "Am I hurting you?" 

Tristan shook his head. It didn't hurt, it just felt strange. The water ran warm across his scalp, and the days of filth and grime were washed away under Caleb's careful guidance. There was a sense of liberation when he closed his eyes, allowing Caleb to take control regardless of the risk.

The fingers running through his hair were firm and strong, massaging his scalp as he lathered, and causing his body to shudder uncontrollably.

"It's getting long" said Caleb, "It used to be so much shorter in Cabi..." 

Tristan's eyelids flicked open, and a stream of soap bubbles ran into his eye. 

"Oh, shit! Sorry" Caleb cried, rushing to grab a towel and wipe his face. 

Tristan reached out to take it, his fingers grasping hold of Caleb's wrist in the process. He could feel the pulse quicken under his touch.

"Let me finish up" said Caleb, regaining his calm, "And then I'll make us lunch. It's almost time for you to take your medication again."

No less careful, but infinitely faster than before, Caleb washed Tristan's hair and gently dried it. Tristan was quiet throughout. Either Caleb had seen him in Cabi, long before he came to Modesh, or he must have seen photographs. There wasn't much on social media; he'd taken a few pictures of the sea, but Jed wasn't a fan of selfies. The only pictures of them were in group shots at Sarah and Carl's parties. 

He'd forgotten how much it had upset him; the first time he held his phone up to take a picture, Jed had batted it away. 'I didn't think you were one of those people, Tristan... do you have to document every little thing?'

Of course, there was also the alternative; that Caleb was so delusional that he simply imagined Tristan's hair had been shorter. It wasn't impossible either.

When Tristan was ready to go, they took the elevator down to the parking lot, and traveled the short distance to the store in Caleb's car. The streets were quiet, with everyone at work or at home, and avoiding the midday sun as it beat down on the yellowed streets of Modesh. Caleb reminded him to message him if he got too tired, and handed him off to Tibur. Tristan didn't feel comfortable until he saw him driving away.

"I'm surprised you wanted to come back so soon" said Tibur, "If I were you I'd have waited until my cast was off, you know, if I didn't have bills to worry about." 

Tristan looked down at his broken arm. 

"Will I make it harder for you, my coming back like this?" he asked. 

Tibur laughed. "It's harder with no-one to talk to! You can at least keep me company while Millie's out on deliveries. Let me show you around." 

Tristan remembered it all, how to work the cash register, where to hang his bag... but he allowed Tibur to show him all over again.

"Do you mind if I use your phone to look something up?" asked Tristan, "I think there's a problem with mine." 

Tibur reluctantly took his cellphone from his pocket. It was an old model, and he was on the cheapest data plan he could find.

"You're not going to stream anything right?" he asked. 

Tristan gave a reassuring smile. "Nothing like that, don't worry." 

The first thing he did was search for Caleb Black. The profiles he found didn't match the tall, bespectacled man in the Phoenicia. He took a breath, and typed his own name into the search box. His profile was private, there was nothing public there that Caleb could have seen. His finger hovered over the keyboard... but he couldn't bear to search for Jed. 

Carl was always the least active, only posting on anniversaries or special occasions. On his profile were several pictures taken with Sarah, and a couple of shots of his car, but nothing of himself. Sarah's profile would be the next logical place to look, and yet Tristan couldn't bring himself to visit it. Even seeing her smiling face in Carl's pictures was making him anxious. 

"Thank you" he said to Tibur, deleting the searches and returning the phone to its owner. If there were no pictures online, that left fewer possibilities as to the root of Caleb's comment. 

"All good?" asked Tibur. 

"I was just curious about something I thought I remembered."

"Well that's a good sign, right?!" Tibur exclaimed. "If you weren't still recovering, I'd say we should have a drink tonight to celebrate." 

Millie walked in from outside, just in time to catch the end of his sentence. 

"We're celebrating..?" she asked, "Count me in! I can't afford it, but I'm going anyway if you two are." 

Tibur sighed. "We're not going anywhere. Tristan is still recovering." 

He hadn't been invited out since the night Jed lost his promotion. 

"Can I go and not drink?" Tristan asked, "Soda would be fine." 

Millie was overjoyed, "Of course you can! It's cheaper that way."

Tibur was less than convinced it was a good idea. "Will um... will your husband be okay with that..?" he asked.

"It's fine" said Tristan, prepared to test Caleb's leniency even further, "It's not like I'll be drinking." 

Caleb had given him a little cash in case of emergency, and so with his funds and plans secured, all that remained was to let his 'husband' know that he'd be late coming home. He sneaked into the breakroom in the afternoon and fired off a message. 'Back late tonight. No need to pick up from store.' Without thinking, he almost added the kiss emoji that he'd often sent to Jed. He shook his head and pocketed the phone, too afraid to wait for Caleb's reply.

As they switched off the lights and grabbed their bags, Tristan began to feel tired. Although Tibur had told him to sit and rest, he'd insisted on finding jobs to do, and all his helping had led to some serious fatigue. 

"Still want to go?" asked Millie, noticing his eyes were beginning to close. 

"Yeah" said Tristan, determined to see things through this time, "Even if it's just for one. I'd still like to go." 

The bar was only down the road from their store. It was unassuming, and Tristan realized he'd probably walked past it dozens of times without knowing they served drinks there. The bartender greeted them warmly, and after a few words from Tibur in Modeshi, they climbed the narrow stone steps to the terrace upstairs. Beyond the fence strewn with fairylights, lay a view above the alleys and rooftops of the old Modeshi houses. A man was watering his plants, and lines of laundry were fluttering in the warm early evening breeze.

It wasn't as impressive as the rooftop view that Sarah had paid a premium for at the lounge, but it was peaceful and intimate. A window into a world that he'd always felt so detached from. 

"Not bad hey?" said Millie. 

"No" Tristan replied, "Not bad at all..."