Alcatraz, people say, is impossible to escape from. Emerson Hauser has only been inside the prison once, when it was already dark and empty, and that statement couldn't possibly be true anymore. Except that it was. Emerson (though now he is agent Hauser for everyone) still feels lost inside those walls, looking, but never finding.
Government, of course, is taking care of it. Has been taking care of it for years now. May be, they've already solved the mystery, and Emerson just doesn't know it. "We have our best people working on it", he was told the day after he reported the disappearance of all those people (it's strange how his life is now so easily divided by that event).
Agent Emerson Hauser has the best case solving rate in FBI San Francisco office, is frowned upon because of his methods, can't hold unto a partner for longer than sixty two days and his top secret hobby is Alcatraz mystery. Emerson gives government another year to realize he is more than good enough for them. After that he plans storming Quantico, Langley, Pentagon, and whatever else needed, not excluding White House, to prove how serious he is. And he is deadly serious.
Luckily enough Emerson is sitting, when one of his agents announces they might-may be- probably have found someone from Alcatraz. "Lucy", is Emerson's first thought, and he'd already be running, if only getting out of that stupid chair didn't take that much time. Time needed for him to focus and start thinking again.
Time and time again he had told himself, it wasn't all about Lucy. Sure he knew her for two and a half years (loved her for two and a half years, but Emerson almost hates to be that precise), but there are more than three hundred other people involved in the Alcatraz incident. Wanting to solve this mystery only because he wants (needs) Lucy back, makes Emerson feel too selfish, too unworthy.
Still, he can't help the deep disappointment he feels, when after four long minutes he is taken to see their first (not last) returnee.
"Dr. Beauregard", - Emerson greets their guest and somehow manages to stop himself from asking any questions yet. It's more than they'd gotten in forty one years (forty one years, two month and eight days, but it is stupid to count). Emerson had waited for a long time, he can wait a little bit more. Beauregard will be a good doctor and answer all of his questions, and then they'll somehow find a key to solving this mystery. It simply takes time, and work, and patience and whatever else needed.
Clearly, he is not the first one to know Lucy is back, but strangely enough at that moment Emerson doesn't care as much as he probably should've. The only thing that matters is Lucy (his Lucy) standing a few feet away from him, not a day older than when he last saw her. Emerson had imagined this moment so many times and yet he has absolutely no idea, what to do now. Lucy makes a few steps forward and stops. They are standing at arm length now, just looking at each other.
"I think there is "Welcome back" somewhere in this silence", - Beauregard comments, suddenly making all of this breathtakingly real. Emerson knows there are forty four (forty five in a month, but it sounds easier this way) years he'd spent without Lucy, and yet, nothing had changed between them. It's a strange feeling, as if he'd also been gone, except that he wasn't.
"It's good to be back", - smiles Lucy, still looking into Emerson's eyes. He has to remind himself, he is too old to be feeling like the twenty-something youngster he once was. It helps, but not a lot.
As it was in Dr. Beauregard's case, Lucy knows the future without knowing it. She has no idea about how the world changed, yet at the same time she isn't surprised by anything. Lucy is quite taken by this memory phenomenon, and Emerson considers whether he has the right to be jealous, given the amount of time she (he's not sure he can call Lucy his girlfriend, and there still paperwork to be filled for her to officially become his colleague) spends comparing notes with Beauregard.
Unlike their resident doctor, Lucy gets a new identity, an official job offer and an apartment, opposite of Emerson's (Lucy is the only one who dares to ask how many strings he pulled for that, but even she doesn't get an answer). Not quite a fresh start and a new life, but Emerson is selfishly glad, that Lucy had asked to stay with the task force even before she was told there was really no other option for her. He hardly dares to dream she did it because of him, but having a common goal sounds really nice.
"Tell me something you did, while I...wasn't here", - Lucy asks one evening curled on a sofa in Emerson's apartment. "I got old", he thinks, but doesn't tell. He has changed, she hasn't (which means she is still the mature one in whatever passes for a relationship between them), but Emerson is not quite ready yet to phrase it that boldly.
"I learned Korean", - he says instead. - "And Hindi. And Chinese. Mandarin and Cantonese varieties of it, at least."
Lucy almost laughs at that, and Emerson smiles back at her. Personally, he doesn't find his hobby all that funny, but right now this is pretty much last thing he wants to argue about.
The glasses Lucy gets herself are stylish, simple and obviously belong to the twenty-first century. In them Lucy looks every bit the lab technician she is on the paper. At the same time glasses don't change her one bit (Emerson sometimes thinks Lucy hasn't changed at all since he first saw her).
"In the 1960s you wouldn't have to deal with computers so much", - Emerson jokes, finding that it does actually get easier with time to talk about past. It still hurts. So much time wasted without Lucy. But he'd long ago learned to live today and wait for tomorrow (remaining stuck in the past had been very tempting once, but the past just wasn't enough).
"I still almost lived at work then", - Lucy shrugs, and this is true. Emerson remembers how he foolishly wanted to get her away from Alcatraz Island, when they'd first met (or not so foolishly, considering what soon happened to those who lived on the island). – "Besides, it was worse before. Lonely."
Emerson can't contain a smile, knowing she is referring to him. He does make a difference it her life. Something he is used to by now, but that still doesn't fail to create a warm feeling in his heart.
Then again, they are probably going to spend a lot more time at work very soon. It is all about numbers. Lucy had returned (to him) four years after Dr. Beauregard's reappearance. Tommy Madsen had appeared two years and five months after Lucy. Jack Sylvane - six month after Tommy. Emerson knows this profile: serial criminal, who needs to act more and more often, consumed by his endless need. The problem is, they still have no idea, who they are dealing with. But if all this continues, they are going to have to handle a new returnee every few weeks, then every few days. And there are three hundred inmates left, not counting the guards.
Emerson would have said, it is going to be a nightmare, except that he knows, what real nightmare feels like (he had forty five years and ten months to get used to that feeling).
Reality is still slowly sinking in, and Emerson tries to act as if it is just another day and just another job. Except, that Lucy is at the hospital, and as much as diving into work helps, it's still not the same. Not by a long shot.
Emerson even tries to lie to himself, strategically placing Lucy's things that doctors returned to him as if she's still here somewhere, just stepped out for a minute. The lie is unconvincing and no help at all (neither was his attempt to bury all his past in one big suitcase and never take it out, he should know better by now).
It's almost a déjà vu. Emerson can't decide whether he feels worse or better than forty nine years ago. He knows what had happened now, there are doctors looking after Lucy, it's a simple human problem (may be not so simple, but still a lot more human than mysteriously disappearing without a trace). But now it's somehow more cruel, more unfair, more wrong. Lucy doesn't deserve this (the two of them don't deserve this). And he's not sure he has enough strength to go through this once again (lie, because he has strength enough to do whatever needs to be done for Lucy).
Emerson had been wrong in his earlier estimations. It is indeed a nightmare.
At some point, Emerson knows, anger won't be able to block the pain anymore. But for now he is still angry: at himself for sending Lucy out there, at Cobb for shooting her, at Rebecca and Diego for not being quick enough, at Sylvane for not providing any answers, at doctors for doing close to nothing, at himself because he should've been smarter, more effective, should've taken capturing the sixty-three's more personally. Well, it doesn't get more personal than now.
Emerson is angry at the whole world, but this is good. The anger can be channelled into something constructive, like capturing the sixty-three's (it's not about Lucy, he's been doing it long before literally needing their blood) or solving the Alcatraz mystery (which is also not about Lucy, and at this point the mantra starts to sound a bit like an old, broken record). Whenever Emerson allows himself to stop and catch a breath, he unmistakably finds himself at Lucy's bedside.
Lucy has always been a light sleeper, and Emerson knows how quickly and easily she wakes from the slightest touch. He tries to stay away from her, to resist the temptation to touch her. He also already knows, how it hurts, when she doesn't wake up, doesn't react at all (he half-expected Lucy to awaken, when he got her out of that hospital bed).
It's the strange mix of helplessness and determination. Emerson has been through this before. There is no way he is going to let this story have any other ending than Lucy coming back to him (may be also a white picket fence and a dog, but he'll have to run it by Lucy, she might prefer a cat). He is just going to have to figure out details as he goes.
Zebra is said to be black-and-white, just like life. The question remains, is zebra actually white with black stripes, or black with white ones? Emerson never actually believed this stuff, but his life to have a habit of dividing itself into times with Lucy and times, when he can only wait and hope he didn't lose her forever. Emerson desperately needs for his zebra to be white.
Doctor Beauregard had warned him, repeatedly, that colloidal silver was an unknown factor. But so was everything in their lives and frankly, they'd exhausted all other options (except for Snow-White-style solution, and Emerson still can't decide what is scarier, that he even thinks about it or his disappointment when it won't work).
"It went well. She's sleeping without dreams now", - Beauregard said and left Emerson alone with Lucy. That was thirteen hours ago, and Emerson actually started re-reading Ovid aloud to keep himself from falling asleep (and not because he believed his voice could awaken Lucy now, even if it failed to do so before).
Rebecca must've been right and he is only human anyway, because Emerson can't remember the moment Lucy takes his hand. He is almost afraid he is dreaming, except that in his dreams he always knows what to do and to say.
"You look awful", - Lucy says and Emerson actually laughs. After chasing one of the sixty-three's in a swamp of all places, then spending hours looking over Beauregard shoulder and waiting for Lucy to wake up, "awful" might be just the right word. It doesn't matter.
"I look worse, than I feel", - Emerson promises, almost physically feeling the fist, that has been gripping his heart for the last seven weeks, unclenching itself.
"Did we get Cobb?" – Lucy asks, and Emerson finds he can't stop smiling, no matter what they're talking about. Right now, he doesn't mind.
"Him and others. You had quite a sleep". Also had him scared for a while, but that's fine. Lucy is fine now, and everything is going to be all right. Nobody, but a two of them, have a say in this matter.