A/N I started writing this before the Season 2 premiere and didn't want to change what I already had. I know her name is Alice Kruger, but I like how I have it.
Kurt stood on the roof of the apartment building looking out over New York when his phone began to ring. He set his glass of bourbon down and retrieved his phone from his coat pocket. He analyzed the screen to see who was calling him at this time of the night. Bethany Mayfair. Kurt sighed and answered the call.
"Hello," he said into the speaker.
"Weller. We need you to come back in. It's urgent. There is something here that you will want to see. I can fill you in more once you arrive," Mayfair informed.
"Alright. I'm on my way," he replied before hanging up. He returned the phone to its place in the coat and grabbed his drink. He rushed down to his apartment and dropped the glass in the sink before grabbing his keys. On his way out he paused to look at the dusty picture of him and his fiance that sat on the entry-way table. He missed her tonight more than ever. It had been two years since... Kurt shook his head trying to get out of the dark place his mind was taking him. He had lived in misery for months after the incident, and he wasn't about to go back. He rushed out the door and down to his car, curious to see why he had been called in.
The moment the elevator doors began to separate, Weller was greeted by his boss.
"Thank you for coming in on such short notice and at this time of the night. Follow me," she greeted as he stepped off the elevator.
"You said it was urgent," he said walking behind the woman.
"It is. She was discovered this evening in Times Square. The bag she was found in had the words "Call the FBI" on it. We sent bomb squad down to investigate. That was when she emerged," Mayfair debriefed. She handed Weller a folder to skim through. He pulled out the images of a woman's body covered in tattoos. The one that caught his attention was the one of her back with the words "Kurt Weller FBI" tattooed on it.
"What is this? Do we have her name? Do we know who did this to her and sent her to us?" Kurt asked confused. Mayfair lead Weller into the small, dark observation room the was connected to the interrogation room. Every fiber in his body froze when he saw the woman before him in the next room. Memories and flashbacks raced through his mind as he stared at her.
"Kurt...it's Amelia," Mayfair said sadly, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Tears of anger, sadness, regret, relief, and want filled Kurt's eyes. There before him was his fiance that had gone missing two years ago. He couldn't contain it anymore. His sobs filled the room as he turned to Mayfair for an embrace. She held him close as all of his pent up emotions flooded out at once. After the wave of tears had subsided, Kurt tried to compose himself.
"Who did this to her?" he asked with a newfound anger in his voice. A fire burned in his soggy, blue eyes.
"That's the thing, we don't know. Weller," Mayfair paused before continuing, "she remembers nothing," she said gently. The hurt and pain of the past couple years came flooding back. The woman he loved, the woman he was told to assume dead, was sitting in the next room, and she remembered nothing.
"May I speak to her?" Weller asked, "Maybe she'll remember me." Mayfair nodded to the door. He reached for the button and took a deep breath. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for this moment. He pushed the button that opened the door and took a step into the bright, white room, the door sliding closed behind him. He walked over to the metal chair that faced the woman and took a seat. He stared at her, trying to come up with what to say. She stared back at him, frightened and confused.
"Hello. I'm Supervisory Special Agent Kurt Weller. I'm the lead agent on your case," Kurt said trying to remain stoic and not jump the gun. He examined her body, taking in all of the tattoos. Her delicate, soft, pale skin that he once knew was now engrossed in ink.
"Please tell me what's going on. Who am I?" she asked, longing for answers. Weller took a deep breath bracing himself for what he was about to say.
"You are Amelia Davis. You went missing two years ago," Kurt explained, a lump the size of a baseball in the back of his throat.
"What happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?" Amelia asked.
"We don't know what happened to you. Dr. Borden - your doctor - says your memory was wiped and that you are in a permanent state of amnesia. He thinks that if you encounter familiar stimuli...it might trigger a memory... Do you recognize me?" Weller asked, hoping, wanting nothing more than for her to say yes.
"Why would you be familiar?" she asked looking at the man before her confused. Kurt's heart shattered to pieces. She didn't remember him.
"Because my name is tattooed on your back," he responded sliding the photo towards her. Amelia picked it up, trying to make sense of everything. "Amelia...you were my fiance." She looked up at Kurt with wide, confused eyes.
"I don't understand any of this," she responded shaking her head.
"Amelia...I know it's overwhelming...but please: just try. Look at my face. Maybe something will come back." The woman examined Kurt's features, then slowly raised her hand to touch his face. She traced his jawline with her fingertips, trying everything she could to remember this man. Kurt's body stiffened to her touch. It had seemed like an eternity since he had felt her touch, but this time, it was different. This time, her touch was cold. It didn't carry the same loving and affectionate touch that it used to. Amelia lowered her hand. "Anything?" Kurt asked hopefully.
"...no," she replied crestfallen. His shoulders dropped at the answer.
"That's okay," he replied calmly. It's not okay. Nothing about this was okay. The door behind them slid open as Mayfair walked into the room.
"Hello, Amelia. I'm Assistant Director Bethany Mayfair. I know this is a lot to take in. We will work with you and help you try to remember your past. For now, we have a safe place for you to stay and rest," Mayfair said. Amelia nodded her head slightly. "Agent Weller can take you there and make sure you get settled."
This is a safe house we use for people we're holding under protective detail. It has a TV, fridge, bed... everything you need. I know it's not much," Kurt explained as Amelia walked around the house, taking everything. It was hardly a house. It contained just the bare necessities of living.
"The four guards outside...are they to keep people out or me in?" she asked pointing towards the closed front door.
"It's just for now. They'll escort you to the FBI building in the morning," he said turning to leave.
"Wait. You said we were engaged. That means you know who I was before...before all of this. I want you to tell me who I was, what I was like...what we were like."
"Amelia, I don't think now is a good time."
"Please. I don't know who I am or what happened to me, and you're the only person who does," she pleaded with him. Weller sighed. He was never really good at saying no to her.
"Tomorrow...I will bring in some pictures for you to look at," he said blankly, trying not to make eye contact with her. If he saw her broken face...he'd lose it. "Goodnight." Weller opened the front door and left, leaving her there with so many questions. Questions he knew how to answer, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
Amelia wandered through the house. She located the bedroom the had been thrown together. She made her way towards a full-length mirror. She studied the woman staring back at her. This was the first time Amelia was able to view the tattoos for herself. She pulled at the neck of the white tank top she had been given. Everything ached. She ripped her clothes off frantically, throwing the articles aimlessly to the side. She turned back to the mirror and stared at the naked reflection of herself. Tears stung her eyes as she viewed the intricate designs. She faced away from the mirror and careened her neck to see the reflection of her back. There, outlined in black, were three words: Kurt Weller FBI. Amelia collapsed onto the floor in sobs, pulling her knees to her chest. All of the night's events flooded into her head at once. Everything had happened so fast. She didn't want any of this. She just wanted answers. Who was she? What had happened to her?
Weller's hands trembled as he fumbled with his keys. Finally, he found the right one and inserted it into the lock. It clicked open and he entered the apartment. He tossed his keys onto the entryway table. They clanged as they hit the picture of him and Amelia. Kurt turned around and picked up the picture, staring at the moment that was captured. Tears stung the corners of Kurt's eyes as his thumb moved over the glass to wipe off the dust. It had been taken on their ski trip, the trip he had proposed to her on. They had been so happy. Now everything was gone. All their memories and good times: gone. Tears now fell from his eyes, clouding his vision. He made his way towards the spare bedroom. Weller rested his hand on the cold handle. He hadn't been in here for months. He pushed the door open and entered the room, staring at the boxes that contained Amelia's possessions. Every nerve in his body raced with pain. He threw the picture against the wall, glass shattering into tiny, fragmented pieces. Kurt stepped back until he hit the wall, and he slid to the floor in sobs. Everything before him, all of the memories and emotions boxed up, were gone.
"If only I had driven her that day...none of this would've happened!" Kurt said through sobs. "If only I had driven her..." His mind raced with everything he had been told after the incident, but he could only think about how it was his fault. He couldn't stop thinking about what he could have done better. Maybe if he had searched longer and harder. Maybe if he had questioned more people. Maybe he could have saved her from the terrible fate she had obtained. Nothing like that should have happened to anyone, especially to his Amelia. Where had she gone? What had happened to her?
