Memory

A X-files/Memento Crossover

By: Attila

Prologue

March 22, 1998

Carson City, Nevada

Leonard awoke when his wife shifted her head where it rested atop his chest. He opened his eyes and squinted from the blinding light that fell from the window adjacent the foot of the bed, the heavy shades tossed and shifted from the air that blew from the air conditioner; making a low electric hum. He had had a strange dream; he couldn't recall what had happened in the dream, only that he had found it strange and frightening, whatever it was.

During the night he must have found comfort in the warmth and softness of Catherine's skin, for he found that he was clutching her shoulder tightly. He ran his hand down the curves and contours of her body, over the length of her arm and down across her waist and hips. He looked down at her adoringly and suddenly came to the realization that...he didn't know this woman. Her hair wasn't a rich brunette color like Catherine's, it was a light red that fell nearly to her bare shoulders. And then it all came back to him...the last thing that he remembered: Catherine's death. But why couldn't he remember anything beyond that? He had the sudden inclination to look at his hand and found a small black tattoo that said "Remember Sammy Jankis" on the area between his index finger and thumb.

That's right...Sammy Jankis. I have the same condition as he does...

He slipped away from the red-haired woman and stood, slipping on his white boxers that sat on a nearby chair. He walked to a nearby mirror and looked at all the tattoos that were stamped across his chest, but the one that drew the most attention was the one that was bold across his chest: "John G. raped and murdered my wife".

That...bastard.

He walked to the bedside stand and found an assortment of items that were arrayed across the top of it. A couple of black bic pens, a few notes in his own handwriting, a small gold crucifix on a fine chain, and a few nickels and quarters. He looked in the drawers and knew that he would find the Gideon bible even before he laid his eyes upon it. He was surprised, however, to find a pile of Polaroid's.

That's right...Sammy Jankis used notes and it didn't work, so I use Polaroid's and tattoos.

He looked through the pile, hoping to find a picture of the woman; one that would give him a clue as to why he had awoke to find her naked in his bed. Well that's obvious enough...but why?

There were several pictures with notes on them. One of them was a picture of a big red Cadillac with "My Car" written on it. Another had a picture of a motel sign for the Best Western Inn with a note that said, "My motel. Don't let them charge you for two or more rooms." He finally found a picture of the woman, unsmiling and looking tired; wearing a black suit with a white shirt. There was a note underneath it that was crossed out, looking to start with an A. Below the crossed out words was another note: "Dana. Make her smile." He looked up at the woman, still sleeping in the bed, a thin sheet clinging to her nakedness.

He shuffled to the next picture, it was a tall man with black hair and a dark suit and tie. His caption read, "Agent Mulder. Don't trust him, he will keep you from your vengeance."

He placed the pile of Polaroid's on the table and picked up the golden crucifix. Is this mine, or hers? He asked himself. He didn't know if he had ever been religious but he assumed that it must be hers. He put it back and began looking through the notes. He paused on the one that read,

John G's License Plate Number: 186G- 0193

Get his full name at the DMV and track the bastard down.

He found his tailored tan suit and blue shirt atop a table that looked out a window onto the dusty, hot streets of Carson City. He dressed quickly and pocketed his things. He opened the door, took one last look at the woman, and closed it quietly.

It was a warm day, and a moment after closing the door he took of his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder. He rolled up his sleeves and jogged down the steps two at a time. Before leaving he approached the front desk and paid the clerk, handing over his key and telling him not to enter the room until the woman inside had left. He found the Cadillac and opened the door, plopping into the comfortable red-vinyl bucket seat and starting it up. He placed the note (which was on yellow post-it) on the dashboard so he wouldn't forget where he was going halfway through the drive.

I need a weapon.

He looked through the interior of the car. He checked in the glove compartment and found, to his surprise, a small black handgun. He grasped it, handling it with surprising ease. He checked the chamber and clip. The chamber had a round, the clip was full.

Payback time you sonofabitch.