“Shit,” Heather mumbled.

As soon as he heard her soft voice, he stirred.  He slowly sat up in his chair, the one he had been sleeping in uncomfortably for hours, and slowly made his presence known in the darkness of the cold hospital room.

“You okay?” Justin asked, ever so softly, his voice soft and sweet over the silence of beeping machines.  It was late, so there wasn’t much commotion in the Trauma Ward at 3 am.

“Y-yeah...” she whispered, slowly sitting up in a pained movement.  “My head aches.  Like I got hit by a fucking Mack truck.”  Her hands went to her head, and he watched her rub her temples in a discomforting fashion.  “What the hell happened?” she asked again.  She couldn’t see him, but she knew the voice was familiar, so she wasn’t alarmed.

“You just had a little episode.  You’ll be fine now that you’re awake,” he finished quietly.

Silence.  

“Can you come closer?  I can’t see you...” she whispered.  “It’s dark.”

He took a deep breath, hoping that they didn’t have to go through this again.  He had gotten all too used to this exercise--she would remember something, pass out, wake up, and then forget everything.  Slowly, he obliged her request, fully expecting her to not remember his face again, and mentally preparing himself for the freak out before stepping into the light.

She looked up at him.  It was silent.  All she did was stare, blinking her eyes a few times before pulling her lips into a soft smile.

“Hi,” he whispered, taking the silence as a good sign and opting to take a seat next to her bed.

“Hi,” she returned.

Hmm.  This was a strange turn of events.  Did she remember him, or did she not remember him?  She had never just sat there and stared at him before.  Usually it resulted in her screaming at him to get out.

“I know you...” she whispered.

“You do?” he asked, trying to hide the soft smile from his face.  He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I do.  I don’t know how...but I do,” she smiled, a twinge of sadness in her voice.

“Well, that’s good...” he whispered, reaching for her hand softly, instantly wanting to comfort her.  “Do you remember anything...?”

“Yes, but no.  I know it’s there...I just...I can’t....see it.”

He nodded gently.  “Don’t worry, Heather.  There’s no rush.  I’m just glad you’re okay, and that you didn’t scream at me this time,” he chuckled.

“I usually scream at you?” she asked, a soft pout on her lips.  He just nodded with a shrug  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault...” he urged.

“I still feel bad...” she nodded.

“Don’t...” his fingers slowly linked with hers.  It made her uncomfortable, but comfortable at the same time.  Even though she knew she knew him, she also knew that she had no idea who he was.  That was...unnerving, to say the least, particularly considering their hands were intertwined together.  She felt comfortable with him, though, so she said nothing.

Silence.

“What do you say we get out of here?” he asked, biting his bottom lip.  “You’re not supposed to leave, but I feel like you’ve been cooped up in here long enough.  It would be fun to get away for a hot minute and get some ice cream or a milkshake.  How do you feel about that?” he asked, hopefulness in his voice.

She took a deep breath, mulling it over in her head.  Maybe if she was around him more, she could remember who he was and why she knew him.  “Yeah...yeah, that sounds good.  I’d like to get out of here, even if it’s just for a little while.  But won’t the hospital get mad?”

“Don’t you worry about a thing.  I’m super suave, so I can get us out of here and back before anyone even knows we’re gone.”

“I had a feeling you were dangerous,” she laughed, getting over her uneasiness in the comfort of the situation.

“You’re the dangerous one,” he winked.

“Flirt.”

“You started it,” he smiled again.  “Let me go find your clothes...you’ve been in like 80 different rooms since you’ve been here, so who knows where they are...” he laughed.

She sighed at the absence of his hand from hers and waited for him to rummage through doors and shelves until he found what he was looking for.  She was happy at the prospect of getting out of this hospital room.  After setting the clothes on the bed, he gently pulled the IV out of her hand, and she stood up for the first time since she could remember.

“Turn around...” she whispered, feeling a little self conscious as she felt the wind hit her bare back from the slit in the back of her gown.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” he whispered with a groan, but obliged her by turning around.  “It’s nothing I’ve never seen before...”

“You’ve seen me before...?” she asked, nervously avoiding his first question.  He was quiet, and she sighed.  “Well, whether you have or haven’t, I don’t want you to see me like this.  That’s so gross...hospital gown?  No, thanks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” he muttered under soft breath.

She sighed, and just let it go.  She didn’t feel beautiful, but she certainly wasn’t going to argue with a gorgeously handsome man about saying so--even if she didn’t know who the hell he was or why she knew him.

She finished changing into her jeans and her t-shirt, and she gently rubbed her temple, trying to forget about the pain and the vertigo she was experiencing from standing up.

“You okay?” he asked, once she told him he could turn around.

She sighed.  “Yeah, of course.  Just...getting used to standing,” she laughed.  He moved closer to her instantly and wrapped his strong arms around her.

“I’ve got you,” he smiled sexily.  “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, a little uneasily.  “Why are you dressed like you’re ready to be a best man in a wedding?”

“Uh...this is how I dress?” he asked, cautiously, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Hmm...” she uttered, obviously letting her thoughts run wild as she stared questioningly at him.

“So...you ready?  Or you want to stare at my outfit a little more...” he winks.

“Maybe,” she smiled abandoning her thoughts and letting her arm wrapping around the small of his back in response to his. She knew there was no way in hell she was walking anywhere without his help.  “Lactose overload, here we come.”

With that, he snuck them through the halls of the hospital slowly, taking the time to make sure she was alright and that they avoided any hospital staff until they got to the parking lot.  Once there, he could tell she was still in a little pain, so his arms grasped her back and behind her knees, and he lifted her effortlessly, making it to the car in a breeze.

“Hey...” she groaned, surprised by the gesture.

He just laughed and carefully put her in the seat of his car. “I could tell you needed a hero,” he smiled as he winks at her before getting in on his own side.

She was about to say something, but she was distracted by the car.  “Damn...what kind of ride is this,” she asked.  She peered around, noticing the shiny knobs and buttons adorning every surface and crevice.  She reached over to touch the first shiny thing that called to her like a siren.

He immediately slapped her hand away.  “Don’t touch that.”

She immediately pouted a little and rubbed her hand.  “What is it?”

“Just don’t touch it,” he laughed, but there was a serious edge to his tone.  He didn’t mean to slap her, he just didn’t want her to get ejected into the air.  He was certain that wouldn’t bode well for her memory problems, let alone with the progress he had made with the hospital thus far.

She huffed slightly and crossed her arms over her chest, a soft pout remaining on her face as she felt the engine start to rev and shake with power.  Justin felt bad, but decided just driving would be the best solution.  Soon the city traffic was passing them by until they got to a quaint little diner, and she looked at it curiously.

“Have I been here before?” she asked.

He smiled a little before speaking, gently clearing his throat as he parked the car.  His forearm slightly bulged as shifted the gearshift into park expertly.  “Yes, you have.  It’s where we had our first date....well, kinda,” he laughed.

“Oh...” she trailed. Feeling a sense of remorse wash over her, she couldn’t help but look down at her hands.  She really wished that she could just remember something!  Fucking anything at this point would be fantastic.

She felt his nimble fingers slowly wrap around her wrist gently, caressing the soft, pale skin where a few bruises had formed from IV’s.  “It’s okay that you don’t remember, you know?” he muttered, pulling her delicate wrist to his lips before pressing them to her skin.

Her eyes fluttered ever so softly, her resolve wavering as she felt the shudder slide throughout her body.  And then reality came back with a vengeance.  “It’s not okay.  I don’t even fucking know your name!” she squealed, the hot tears coming to her eyes.  “I don’t know anything about you...about us....about how we got together, why you’re sitting in my hospital room, or even why I can’t remember a fucking thing, and it’s really....it’s really unnerving!  I don’t like feeling like this!”  

He could see the pained frustration taking over her facial features, and he sighed as he gently released her wrist from his gentle grip.  This is the part where the guilt started to nag unwillingly at his chest and he looked down.  Taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, he turned to her and smiled.

“Baby...”

“Don’t call me that.  I can’t possibly be your baby if I don’t even know who you are,” she whispered tightly.  She didn’t want to be so biting, but she was just frustrated at this situation, and she really didn’t feel right with it.

“Heather...” he trailed.  “Look...it doesn’t matter whether you remember me or not.  Why not look on the bright side--you’re slowly getting your memory back, and even if you don’t, it’s a way for us to relive all the fun over again, “ he smiled, trying to win her over.

She scoffed at his optimism.  “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Look, I know this isn’t easy,” he muttered. “But you’re getting better.  You’re starting to remember things.  You just have to be patient...”

“I’m tired of being patient,” she sighed morosely.

“Well, I don’t know a lot of things.  But I do know this,” he nodded.  “We’re here, at the diner.  We should be at the hospital, but we’re not.  We’re here.  And I’d really like to take you in there and get a milkshake.”  She opened her mouth to interrupt him, but he continued.  “And I also know, from talking to your doctors, that you’re not going to remember a damn thing by being upset like that.”

She huffed again and finally agreed.  “Okay.”

Before she knew it, she was whisked inside where she was met with an overwhelming feeling of deja vu.  The waitress seated them, and she sat across from him and fingered her menu.  Her eyes dropped to the page, and she noticed a slight burn mark on the bottom right hand corner, which piqued her interest.

“What’s the matter?” Justin asked.

“Hmm?” she asked.  “Oh....nothing.  Nothing....” she mumbled, her thumb running over the burn mark again.  She slowly moved her eyes to meet his, but when she did, she noticed a bullet hole in a painting above his head, and she scratched her temple.

“You said this was where we had our first date?” she asked again, starting to peer around.  She hadn’t really taken in much when she walked in, just felt the nostalgia.  But now that she made the effort, she remembered the red pleather booths, the chipped boomerang white tabletops, and the bar to the right.  She also remembered the pie counter.

“Well...not officially.  But kind of,” he laughed.

“Coconut cream,” she mumbled, not even hearing him.

“Heather...?” he asked.   “Heather....are you okay?”



*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



“You don’t understand,” Heather said, hushed and exasperated.

“Don’t understand what, Heather?  You were in a plane crash, what more is there to it than that?” Jake asked.  

“Wow, don’t sound so worried or upset about it,” she rolled her eyes.

He rolled his eyes mockingly, taking the time to watch the gorgeous waitress walk by.  They had stopped at their favorite diner for a quick bite at Heather’s request.  She had said she really needed someone to talk to, but he wasn’t really that sure about meeting her.  Heather had been acting really strangely since she survived the plane crash a few weeks ago.  Obviously, at first, he had been there for her for every second.  But now, he just thought she was being strange and border line psychotic.

“Heather.  Please.  Don’t act like me, or any of the rest of your friends and family haven’t been there for you through this whole ordeal.  And especially don’t act as if we don’t care about you.  We do...I do.   But....I think this has gotten to your head a little.”

“But Jake, you don’t understand.  There’s this guy.  I wasn’t...” she sighed, frustrated.  She reassessed her volume control and leaned in, keeping a hushed tone as to not disturb the other patrons.  “I wasn’t supposed to be on that plane.  I...I wasn’t.  And...there was this guy...”

“A guy?” Jake asked, incredulously.  “Look...is this about Stephanie getting engaged to Matthew?

“Yes!  I mean...no!  Of course this is not about Stephanie, or my ex.  I know she’s my best friend, and you all think I’m some dating miscreant, but for once this is not about me, or anyone else.”

“It’s okay if it is, you know.  I mean, you’ve been acting really strangely...” he interrupted.

“I’m acting strangely because I’m in a strange fucking situation and no one will listen to what I’m saying!”

“Fine...just tell me your story,” he mumbled.  He stopped the waitress to order another coffee, and let Heather ask for a slice of the coconut cream.

“Thank you.  So...anyway....I was not supposed to be on this plane.  I had missed my earlier flight because of security, and this guy bumped into me, and he got me on like the only flight out.  I thought it was just sweet, right?  But...while I was in the bathroom freshening up, he ended up killing everyone on the plane!  And then we crashed!  And he’s been like...following me around ever since!” she mumbled.

Jake just stared at her.

“Did they check your head at the hospital?  I think that crash did some damage,” Jake said coolly, stirring his spoon in his coffee mug.

Her arms went up in a flailing fashion, and she almost lost it.  No one would fucking listen to her!  Just as she was about to say something, she heard the door bell chime, signaling a new patron.  When she looked up out of habit, her eyes widened.

“Oh my God.  Jake....Jake, that’s him!” she whispered, watching the murderer from the plane near her with a smile on his face, waving goofily at her.  He looked ridiculous, wearing a touristy t-shirt and a foam finger on his hand.  He even had sunscreen on his nose.

Jake pulled out his phone.  He was seriously about to call the psychiatry ward, certain she should be committed.  But he stopped when the man sat down.

“Jake!  This...this is the guy!” she uttered furiously.  “Do...do something!”

 Justin smiled cheekily and nodded to him.  "Hello..."

The waitress walked over and gently set down the slice of coconut cream pie that Heather had ordered earlier.  She gave Justin a strange look, but just set it down with a smile.  “Coconut cream...” she smiled.  “Will there be anything else?”

“No, we’re fine.  Thanks,” Jake responded disinterestedly.  He was far too amused with this man that just sat down.  “I’m Jake...”

Heather hissed at him.  “Don’t tell him your name!  He’s a murderer!”

“I’m not a murderer,” he interrupted.  He then looked back at Jake.  “I’m not a murderer,” he stated again, as if clarifying the correct way to pronounce his last name.

Jake just stared.  “Okay.”

Justin turned to Heather.  “Look...I don’t know if I’ve made this clear, but you and I...we have a little unfinished business.  So...I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Heather’s eyes widened.  “I’m not going anywhere with you...” she growled.  “You almost killed me once...you think I want to get killed again?”

“Unfortunately, darling...I don’t think you have much of a choice,” he winked with a cheshire grin.  “Jake, pleasure to meet you.”

Jake just stared up at him, clearly thinking that he must have just come from the psychiatry ward by his initial appearance.  He was about to say something, but by the time he did, he had grabbed Heather by the shoulders and held a gun to her head.

“Nobody move, or I shoot the girl...” he called out loudly, gently dragging her to the door, meandering his way through the tables and chairs.

The entire restaurant squealed with terror, fear, and excitement.  Jake stood up to stop him.  “You can’t take her anywhere!”

“Sorry, kid.  It’s not up to you,” he nodded, raising his gun up and shooting a bullet warningly.  Unfortunately, it ricocheted off the ceiling and hit the oven, making a small fire near the menus.

Jake just watched on in horror.  “Oh my God, he is a murderer!”

“Someone call 911!”