Justin gave a tired nod when his Uncle Sam was there beside him. Despite how messed up he could be with the bipolar, one thing he did know now was that he was very much loved and very much cared about. After spending years with a mother who didn't give a fuck about him, and grandparents who didn't know how to care for him in the way he needed to be cared for, he didn't take any of this for granted. It was just that after these episodes, he didn't really want to be touched or analysed. He needed time separate from everything so his mind could shut down and reboot itself. It was the only way he could cope. As much as people wanted to be near him and see for themselves that he was still breathing, it was just too overwhelming for him.

"I'm sorry I scared you, Uncle Sam," he finally said, the words barely more than a whisper. "I don't remember it all, but I remember when you held my hand. You held it, and you told me I wasn't alone, and you weren't going to let go. I wish I could stop it when I get sick like that. Everything in my head is just... going all so fast, and I want it to stop. I want everything to stop."