This Time

Summary: Toris Laurinaitis has no memory of the life he lived before a gunshot wound five years ago sent him into a year-long coma and lost him the use of his right arm. So when seemingly ditzy interior designer Feliks Łukasiewicz appears, with a mysterious past and a secret seeming to involve him, Toris knows he has to find out more and piece together what really happened 5 years ago.

Warnings: Language, feels, slash pairings, Poland speak (which obviously merits its own warning XD), possible triggers, violence, and not insignificant waits between chapters.

Chapter One: An Unexpected Meeting

Enjoy~!


He was talking on his phone this time.

Toris Laurinaitis' face coloured slightly and he nervously brushed back a strand of chestnut hair from his face, looking away. He stood swaying on a crowded train on the way to London at eight o'clock in the morning, brown satchel slung over his narrow shoulders and banging insistently against his hip with every jolt of the rickety carriage. He wore an immaculate light grey suit which had obviously been crisply folded, but in places almost seemed a little big for him, as though he was somewhat lost inside it. A pair of smart but slightly scuffed black shoes were slipped on his unsteady feet, and his tousled brown hair hung in waves around a delicate, angled face. The overall combination of his posture and clothing gave the impression of someone a little unsure of who he was or what he was doing there.

In fact Toris was sure of who he was, and what he was doing there; but that was pretty much all.

His name was Toris Laurinaitis, he was Lithuanian by birth, and he was on the train on his way to London for work. That he knew for sure. So at least that was something.

Because Toris was twenty six years old, but could only remember the last four years of his life.


Toris looked over at the man again. Yes, he was talking very loudly and animatedly on his phone that morning. Blonde hair bouncing around his face as he spoke, green eyes shining with mischief and amusement, perfectly manicured hands gesticulating wildly.

"No way! Oh my God! She didn't! Oh my gosh! I can't believe...no?! That is just... Wow. I can't even think of what to say! And like, what did he do when he saw?! Wait, wait, don't tell me! My stop's coming up, so I've like, got to go soon. Mmm. Oh, but I am totally coming round yours to get the full story later, okay, okay? Don't protest!"

The man spoke with an odd accent - mainly Polish, something told Toris - but there was a hint of Toris' own accent in there, something that held strains of someone who had once lived in Russia.

Toris was brought from his thoughts by the man continuing eagerly.

"No, don't you even think of baking anything. I swear, Chaz, you start baking something and I will, like, come and repaint your living room again. Fuschia would just look fab. Haha, yes. Anyway, honey, I have to go now, but love you all! Tell Simon hey from me, kay? Yeah, yeah, you too. Love ya!" And he clicked his phone off, slipped it into a pocket, hoisted his satchel onto his shoulder, and as the train slid to an abrupt stop, he walked smoothly over to the doors, brushing past Toris as he did so without looking at him, and got off the train.

Toris stumbled to follow his example, grabbing his bag and stepping out of the doors, but by the time he was on the platform the stranger had been swallowed up by the crowd, and sighing, Toris headed off to work alone, mentally beating himself up for being such a coward.

This would happen every day.

Toris had to go up to London every day of the week other than sunday for his job as an accountant in the city, and the man with the blonde hair and the bright green eyes and the excited way of talking that made Toris desperately want to know what was going on, went up every day too. And it was always at the same time as Toris, always the same train, always the same stop.

Always.

It wasn't even like Toris knew the man, or his name, or what he was doing on the train, or, in fact, anything about him. He could be a serial killer for all Toris knew.

But Toris still wanted to talk to him.

The man was just so interesting, with his odd mannerisms and somewhat feminine appearance, and though Toris knew he would never be able to pluck up the courage to talk to him in a million years, there was still a pull towards him and Toris kept hoping something might make the man look up from his nails or his phone or the ridiculous vampire romance novels he had seen him reading on more than one occasion and actually see him.

Because the man didn't even know Toris existed.

He'd never made eye contact. Never said a word to him. Never glanced in his direction.

Nothing.

And that was why Toris needed so desperately to meet him.

Toris realised he'd come to the building where he worked already and changed direction quickly to walk inside.

He wasn't particularly enamoured with his job, but it paid and Toris got money and it kept his mind from dwelling on those 21 unknown years, all that time where he had no idea where he lived or what he did or who he knew.

Toris could have done anything in those years and he simply wouldn't know. Couldn't know.

Hell, he didn't even know if he was a virgin or not.

Toris just wished he could remember his other life. Because it was true, it wasn't the same life he lived now. Not at all. He'd lived a whole other life before this one, one that he had no memory or recollection of, whatsoever.

A whole other life.

And Ivan, Raivis and Eduard - the people he lived with now - seemed determined not to help him. Toris had a feeling they knew something more than they were telling him.

The story they'd told the hospital when they'd brought an unconscious, half-dead Toris in, lying in Ivan's arms, having lost so much blood there was next to no hope of saving him, was that they'd been travelling in London and they'd used a backstreet shortcut to try and catch the train back on time, but a stranger had been hiding in the alley with a gun, and when they walked in he'd obviously freaked out and sprayed them with bullets. Toris was the only one to get hit.

The hospital just about bought it, but there wasn't much time for them to delve deeper because the rapidly deteriorating Toris needed instant help or he would have died.

And though they'd fixed him up, he'd lain in a coma for a whole year, every day more and more nurses and doctors writing him off as another lost cause, everybody simply starting to lose hope.

But something brought him back.

Waking up had been a horrible experience. Toris remembered it vividly. His mouth had been dry and everything just ached. Every single muscle was stiff from year-long disuse, his eyes stuck when he tried to blink and they didn't focus properly either, and worst of all was just the awful confusion.

The terrifying realisation that you didn't have a clue who you were, where you were, or what had happened to you. Nurses had rushed into the ward immediately and everything from then on for several months was a whirl of being checked over by astonished doctors, being asked repeatedly what he could remember in a bizarre mixture of Lithuanian, Russian, and English - to which the answer was always nothing - hearing brief snatches of information about his situation, and most of all just complete, utter. total disorientation.

It was an experience Toris never, ever wanted to repeat.

When he woke up he found he could remember early, vague things: like he found he already knew how to talk and he knew how to count and somehow he knew how to speak both Lithuanian and Russian - so even though he'd begun his new life in English, he had a Russian-style accent that showed no signs of disappearing. He could function well enough, but as he had no real experiences with which to draw on in everyday life, he was still...quite simply, a child, in so many ways.

It had been difficult for him to learn English. Very difficult. But he'd eventually got used to it, having been thrown so suddenly into the language as he had been. He would never be a poet or anything, but he got by and he don't feel like so much of a foreigner anymore. And he rather liked England, he supposed.

Not that he had anything to compare it to.

Nobody knew what had caused him to wake up so unexpectedly.

The doctors said there must have been someone, or something important in his other life, which had prompted him to wake up. Forced him to come back. Apparently Toris must have had such a strong tie to life, to someone, or something, that it had brought him back from the verge of death.

Toris had something really important to live for.

And he didn't know what it was.

Even the fact that Toris had gone into a coma at all was unusual. A bullet to the shoulder technically shouldn't have affected his brain one bit - and as most comas were induced by brain damage or head wounds, his situation was practically unheard of. And he'd lost so much blood by the time he'd got to the hospital he should really have died. But he didn't. Instead he was sent into a coma he shouldn't have been. And no one knew why. There were theories, ideas that maybe the extreme loss of blood and the shock was what had induced it, or that he should have died but was so determined to stay alive that he went into a coma instead... Nobody could be quite sure.

Ivan had told Toris the same story about the London back alley and the crazy gunman, but Toris just didn't believe him. Of course the part about the bullet being the cause was obviously true, but as for the circumstances... Ivan clearly knew something but was determined not to tell him, and it pained Toris every single day.

The bullet had gone into the back of his right shoulder (another reason why Ivan's story seemed implausible), and had effectively severed the muscles and tendons and ligaments there; resulting in Toris' right arm being sentenced to hang, useless by his side, for the rest of his new life.

He couldn't feel it, couldn't move it...

Nothing.

He had completely lost the use of it.

So no memory, only one usable arm, a fractured relationship with possibly the only people that might ever be able to tell Toris the true story, a dead end job that left him going nowhere, and something important enough to call him back from death that he simply couldn't remember.

The doctors said Toris was a living miracle.

He sure didn't feel like one.


The train was crowded this time.

It was the ride back home again the same day, and Toris had been unfortunate enough to miss the train he usually took and now had to travel on the slightly later one, which was crammed with people and jolted unstably at every available opportunity.

But evidently, it seemed Toris wasn't the only one.

"Seriously, that's exactly what he said. No joke. Oh m- oh yeah, I know right? Like, Chaz was telling me this morning. No...? Oh, I wonder why? Pfffft, no. You are a nutter in the best possible way, Nat. Yeah, course. Still love ya. As always. Yes, yes, I wouldn't change a thing. Jake can back me up. Oh, is he there? Hi Jake! Oh, shut up! How are your wedding plans going, you two? Remember, you can rely on me to get the fabrics and stuff you need. Of course! You guys are totally, like, the cutest couple ever, I'm not screwing the decor up on your big day for anybody! Oh, and I forbid you to use pastel. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise, I will, like, come and attack them, or something. Haha! Oh God, no... Yeah. Nope. Oh, can you, like, believe I missed the first train? I'm such an idiot. Yeah, I'm on the later one so I'm gonna get home late. Yay for me!"

Toris grinned to himself. The man had obviously missed his train too.

So at least Toris had some form of entertainment for the journey.

The man's phone calls were always interesting. He talked to such a variety of people that it was hard to keep up. So many people, so many places, so many things Toris had never even heard of.

Some might have said it was rude to listen to other people's phone conversations.

But the man talked so exuberantly and loudly that it was hard not to.

Toris grinned.

He guessed this was probably actually the closest he'd ever been to him. He'd always kept his distance, shy and timid as he was, and the blonde had never noticed him. Now, this time, there was nobody else between them, and if the man turned just slightly, he would see Toris.

Toris took a breath and pushed a strand of chestnut brown hair back from his face. It was really quite long now - it would be down to his shoulders soon and probably did need cutting, but Toris liked it like that.

Raivis had once said that Toris always used to wear his hair long before it had all happened, and then stopped quickly as if he'd said something he shouldn't have.

Toris knew Raivis, Eduard and Ivan were keeping secrets from him. He just wished he knew why. What on earth was so dreadful about his past that he couldn't know about it?

The train rattled around a corner and the blonde man shrieked loudly and grabbed onto the pole in the centre of the carriage to stop his fall.

Toris had to stop himself from laughing out loud as the man giggled quietly to himself and then gabbled a quick goodbye into his phone before putting it back in his jacket and clinging tighter onto the pole.

Toris' hair blew over his face as the train turned another sharp corner and he sighed. Once the train had levelled out again, Toris lifted his hand off of the pole attached to the ceiling of the carriage to brush his hair back away from his face, other arm dangling uselessly as always, and:-

BAM.

The train swerved wildly and Toris, with nothing to hang onto, pitched forward with the train's momentum and fell none-too-gracefully into the arms of an unsuspecting man with long blonde hair and wide astonished green eyes.

"Oh!" Toris gasped, struggling to get to his feet and not succeeding as the train rocked again. "I'm so sorry-I-"

The man was staring disbelievingly at him.

And then suddenly his scent washed over Toris and he found himself spinning, falling...

That smell...Toris knew it. Something so individual, so unique, so... Toris recognised it from somewhere!

Toris blushed bright red, reached out his left hand, grabbed onto the pole, and staggered to his feet. He met the blonde's eyes again, who was still just staring at him, mouth open slightly. It would have been comical if Toris was not so mortified.

This was not how he had wanted to be introduced.

"I'm really sorry about that, I, er. I can't..." Toris trailed off and the man blinked at him.

What was he supposed to do?!

Toris didn't exactly have the usual amount of experiences to draw on, but he doubted this was a situation many people found themselves in. He had no idea what the protocol was.

"I am sorry," he tried.

The man blinked suddenly, and when Toris staggered as the train rocked again, seemed to come out of his stupor. He took an unsteady step closer to Toris, staring into his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Toris shifted back awkwardly, feeling decidedly panicky now.

The man flinched as Toris edged away, as if pained by something. There was a long pause and then he seemed to reach some decision. His face broke into a nonchalant smile that transformed his features and lit up his entire face.

"Oh, it's totally fine, don't worry," he said.

Toris frowned bemusedly and took a hesitant breath. "Yeah, I...sorry. I lost my balance, and..."

The man grinned at him. "It's fine."

There was another pause and then as if reaching another internal decision, he stuck out one of those perfectly manicured hands and beamed at him. "My name's Feliks Łukasiewicz. Nice to meet you."

Completely disorientated now, Toris shook his head, attempting to right his confused thoughts. "Um."

He hooked his feet either side of the pole to gain his balance, let go of the pole, and lifted his one usable hand to shake.

But it was the wrong one.

Feliks was holding out his right hand. But obviously, Toris' right hand was immobile.

Feliks stared at Toris' outstretched arm, then dropped his own proffered hand and lifted his left hand to shake, a confused expression on his face. He looked down at Toris' lifeless right arm.

"Is...are you ok?"

Toris felt himself flinch. "Yeah,

I... I just..." He took a breath. "I can't use my right arm."

"Oh!" Feliks' mouth dropped open and his eyes flitted to Toris' shoulder, then he looked away as if he'd done something wrong. "What...what happened?"

Toris was sure he was bright red by now. "Bullet to the shoulder," he mumbled. "I can't use my right arm anymore."

Feliks' eyes widened. "Bullet to the shoulder? You must have...did you lose a lot of blood?"

Toris stiffened. Was it normal for strangers to be so curious?

"Uh, yes. I guess. I, er, spent a year in a coma afterwards," he admitted, looking away slightly.

If Feliks' eyes widened any more Toris reckoned they were going to stay stuck like that. "A year? Wow," he breathed.

Toris shifted awkwardly and wished he could hide his arm behind his back.

"How did you...get...shot?"

That was it. The question Toris had been dreading. How was he supposed to answer? He took a breath and subconsciously lifted his hand to brush his hair away from his face.

"I don't know," he answered finally.

Feliks' mouth opened slightly. "Tor- You...you don't know?"

Toris squeezed his eyes shut briefly. "I don't remember. I lost all of my memories. The doctors don't know why, but I...I can't remember a thing before the day I woke up."

Feliks' hand went to his mouth and he gasped quietly. "Wow. That's like...that's pretty major, that."

Toris found his mouth pulling into an unplanned grin. "Yeah."

The train jerked suddenly and then slid to a slow, shuddering halt. Toris looked around wildly and realised it was his stop. "Uh, this is me."

"And me," Feliks said. Toris just managed to stop himself from saying- "Yes, I know."

Instead he smiled tentatively. "So I...I guess I'll see you."

Feliks flashed him a white-toothed grin. "Yeah. Do you take the train everyday?"

Toris nodded a breathless affirmative and then the train doors slid open and the people surrounding them moved towards them to get off, swarming around him and pulling him away him Feliks. Toris stumbled off the train and when a last the swirling crowd started to disperse, he looked around, but couldn't find the Pole.

"See you tomorrow Toris!" he heard Feliks' voice cry over the busy noise of the station. Toris looked up and spotted the blonde's mischievous face and jaunty grin sticking up above the crowd.

"Uh-yeah! See you... Feliks..."

And as he started walking back on his way home, he felt like there was something wrong that he couldn't pinpoint.

Something not quite right.

As he finally got to his door, after several minutes walk and a nervous, darting sprint past a particularly aggressive dog in one of the gardens he passed, fumbling for his keys, Feliks' words swam again to the front of his mind.

"See you tomorrow Toris!"

That was strange.

Toris turned the key and pushed open the large, ornate door that marked Ivan out as being wealthier than most of the other inhabitants in the surrounding houses put together.

That was strange.

He didn't remember telling Feliks his name.


A.N

Hey guys! My name is Charli Petidei, and welcome to 'This Time'.

I shall now christen it 'TT' for short XD.

This fic is another of my favourites in this particular AU (people that have read my other fics will know all about this massive AU thing :D), and I love it because... Poland. Yup. He's like my favourite character.

But anyway! This new fic is kind of dark, I guess, but there are no serious issues in it like there are in many of my other fics. It mainly deals with memories, secrets, and trust. It is also kind of my shot at trying a 'mystery' style fic, where the main secret of the story isn't revealed for a while.

And this fic is also quite closely attached to another, a RoChu one called 'Somebody I Was Never Meant To Be'. It's not uploaded right now, but should be soon. The stories intertwine and though you don't have to read both, the same characters and some of the same key events appear in both.

Thanks to any of my followers who have read this fic as well! I love my followers and favourite-ers, thank you so much 3 I promise TSAICS will be updated soon and sorry for the wait!

So guys! I hope you're having a great summer so far! My 15th birthday is on the 30th August, so I'm really looking forward to that myself, and I'm sure you guys have other fun stuff to look forward to yourselves as well! And then in September I go back to school for my last year of school before sixth form! Whooh! That's like the final year before college, for any confused Americans :D Happy summer everyone, don't party too much!

So, anyway! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of TT, and I hope to see you all soon. Reviews are majorly appreciated!

Love y'all!

Keep dreaming,

Charli xxx

P.S. And a brief apology to all the people who read 'Terminal' I DID NOT REALISE SO MANY PEOPLE WOULD BE BAWLING BECAUSE OF ME. I feel so horrible guys! I'm sorry! *Big group hug* I promise I won't do anything like that again... Well...for a while...at least...

Heheh.