The woman looks around at the beach. It's odd, she thinks. It's like I've been here before. She can't place the feeling of familiarity, though. The rocky coastline doesn't bring back any memories. She wonders why the man has brought her here, of all places, and why now. Winter isn't the time to be out on a beach. Even with all her layers, the icy winds chill her to the bone.
She sits down beside a post. It feels like the thing to do, and it brings even more feelings of familiarity. She looks down and sees letters carved into the rock. They aren't carved very deep and were obviously made long ago, so she can't make out the words with just her eyes. She runs her fingers along the lettering. It spells out Audrey Parker. That name feels even more familiar.
She sits next to a post and talks to herself, though she directs her speech at the sky. She doesn't understand who she is. A man, older than she is, comes and skips rocks. There is a calm demeanor about him.
"And where do you need to be?" she asks the man.
"Where I am. It's always where I am," the man replied. She nods and escapes again into her own thoughts. She carves her name into the rock mindlessly, even though she isn't even sure that's hers anymore.
She gasps. Audrey Parker. My name is Audrey Parker. She went over it in her mind. Yes, that feels right.
"Is my name Audrey?" she asks the man who is here with her now. He's a different man, younger than the one she just saw, but his eyes have all the youth stolen from them. He nods, and she looks away again. She doesn't like to look at him. He's always sad. When he first saw her, he was so happy. Until he saw that she doesn't know who he is.
She uses the post to pull herself up. "I want to go into town," she states plainly. She can see one nearby, and she wants to remember more. This place feels key to that. Blood trickles lightly from her nose, but she brushes it away with her sleeve and thinks nothing of it.
"So do I." He starts off in the direction of the town. Nether have cell phones or vehicles, so it will be a while before they hit civilization. If he notices her nosebleed, he says nothing. She wonders if he noticed her remembering. Most likely not. He doesn't like to look at her either. She makes him sadder. He remembers all the things she should remember, and it hurts him that she doesn't.
.:.
It's nearly nightfall when Audrey and the man finally reach the town. Her legs ache, and she feels like she's going to fall over. A faded sign tells her that they are entering Haven, home to 21,705 people. He tells her that they can stop at a restaurant in a couple miles, and then they'll go to the police station.
"Why would you want to go there? Are you in trouble?" the girl who is now called Audrey asks jokingly.
"No," he says, keeping his answer short and simple and still not looking at her. She realizes he hasn't told her his name yet, so she asks what it is.
"Duke," he says, looking like it pains him that she doesn't already know. She doesn't tell him how much she wishes she could still remember things like that. She wishes she could have known him when he was happy, or maybe that she could make him happy. His silence is contagious; her attempts at conversation fall away as they make their way further into town.
They find a place called Joe's Bakery and stop to eat there. She's glad to be able to rest; her body aches from the long walk. When Joe himself comes to take their order, he looks surprised to see her but quickly shakes it off. She orders pancakes.
There's a certain familiarity to this place, too, Audrey notices, especially eating pancakes at a table for two. Duke isn't the person who should be sitting across from her. She knows that much. But who? she wonders.
They're sitting at Joe's Bakery eating pancakes.
"Isn't it a little early to be putting up Christmas decorations?" Audrey asks, looking around at the strangely festive town.
"Well, when do you think they should be put up?" Audrey really wants the Christmas decorations to never be put up, but July seems like a particularly strange time for the town to be painted red and green.
"I mean, doesn't it seem a little early to you?"
With an entirely serious face, he replies, "It's Christmas Eve." She's about to argue when they get a call. They have to go for now, but this conversation is not over yet.
She snaps out of it. Duke is giving her a concerned look. He's worried, she realizes. Another nosebleed comes, and it comes with a killer headache. She was hungry minutes ago, but now even looking at food makes her feel sick.
"I-I don't feel very well," she says. She can tell Duke sees that there's more to it than that, but she rushes to the bathroom before he can say anything.
.:.
Throwing up in a restaurant bathroom makes her feel disgusting. She wants to brush her teeth, but as far as she knows, she doesn't have a home or any belongings, so she rinses her mouth out with water from the sink. Her headache is getting worse, and this nosebleed is harder to stop than the one earlier. The main thing she gets from the encounter is still the memory, which she's thankful for.
She's been having a nagging feeling that she's been here before all night. Now she knows she was here with Nathan Wuornos, her partner, who knows how long ago. They were here before she lost her memories, and she isn't even sure how long it's been since that. Joe recognized me, she realizes. I could ask him. Audrey approaches the bakery's owner with purpose but is interrupted before she can talk to him.
Duke grips Audrey's arm and steers her away from Joe.
"Come on," he says, "we're going to see an old friend."
.:.
The evening air is almost as icy as the air on the beach. She's glad to be sheltered by the police station's sturdy walls. The man from her second memory, Nathan, is out on a call, so they have to wait until he gets back. Audrey sits in a desk that Duke told her is hers and tries to warm up. This place feels familiar, too. She hopes she doesn't get another memory; she's still reeling from the effects of the last one.
"She's here," says Duke. A smile lights up Nathan's face. He turns and sees her sitting in her old desk. "Wait, Nathan, she's not-" Duke doesn't have a chance to finish as Nathan rushes up to greet her.
"Nathan, hi," Audrey says awkwardly. She isn't sure what else to say.
"You're really back? Are you okay?" His concern touches her. She wishes she could spare him from the bad news.
Duke tells him. "She lost her memories." He says it bluntly, but it takes a moment for the bad news to sink in. She watches as it does. It's like the reverse of what happened seconds ago. The light leaves his face, leaving behind the hardened exterior. His guarded look makes it hard to tell what's going on in his mind, but she can tell that his nightmare was just acted out before him. She wants to do something, anything, that will help him, but she knows she isn't the person he needs now. Or at least she doesn't have the right memories.
"I'm sorry," she says. It's not enough. It can't reverse the pain or make him open up again. I would've been able to before, she thinks. Before whatever happened that made me lose my memories.
"It's fine," Nathan deadpans. "It's not your fault." He meets her eyes, unlike Duke, but his are dead; they don't show her any emotion, and she almost wishes he hadn't.
"Nathan," she says, "I wish I could remember! You think I don't want to-"
She's wearing an incredibly ridiculous outfit. Nathan bought it for her as a joke, and she's wearing it to see if she can get him to smile. He set up walls long ago, much like her, and she intends to break them down. He has this scary ability to break down hers, too; he's getting her to do the little things like remembering names - she's failing badly at that one - and exchanging friendly banter, the things she decided were useless when she first put up her walls.
Hearing his laughter and seeing that smile is more than worth any trouble.
"This is one of those times when you should say absolutely nothing," she says as she drinks from the UMaine mug that completes the local cop look.
When Audrey's vision clears, she sees Nathan crouched over her, a look of genuine worry etched into his face. Duke stands a little further back. She catches his eye and he looks relieved.
"Are you okay?" Nathan asks as he helps her up.
"I'm fine," she replies, but she knows it's not true. Her head pounds even more than it did at the bakery, and the dizziness increases when she stands up. She can't balance herself well enough to stay standing, so they help her into a chair. Then the nosebleed and nausea take over, coming even faster than before, and she nearly falls over in her haste to get to the bathroom.
"I don't feel well," Audrey explains shakily as she tries to stand up again. Duke puts his hand around her waist to steady her and helps her to the bathroom. She sees him shut the door behind him. Such a gentleman, she thinks.
Once she's done, she leans against the wall for support and pulls herself up. She somehow manages to get back to the office, where Nathan quickly offers her his seat.
"What happened?" Nathan asks as the world gradually stops spinning so much faster than usual.
"I got a memory," Audrey explains. At their confused looks, she adds, "One of mine, I think."
"What did you remember?" questions Nathan.
"I was here. I was wearing some silly outfit you bought me as a joke, and you walked in, and we were laughing. I said, 'This is one of those times when you should not say anything,' or something like that."
He looks down at his feet. "That's one of yours, yeah."
"The same thing happened earlier. Twice," Duke says.
"Yes, those were memories, too."
"Well, what did you remember?" he presses.
"The first time, I was at that rocky beach. Neither of you were there. I was sitting at a post talking to a man. He was on the older side, had a bag that said Shawshank something on it, and I think he had a tattoo. He skipped rocks and talked to me a little. I carved my name into the rocks; that's how I knew what it was. The second one was at that bakery. Everyone was putting up Christmas decorations even though I think it was July. I was there with Nathan and he - you - said it was Christmas Eve," Audrey elaborates.
"I can't remember the second one," says Nathan.
"Remember when Audrey threw a Christmas party in July? I woke up next to wrecked cars in a Santa suit and thought I'd caused an accident," says Duke.
Nathan smirks and nods. "I woke up in a toy store next to a broken snow globe." He turns his attention to Audrey. "That must've been what happened that day. You were having fun keeping it from us." She smiles at him. His hand is on hers, and he brushes his fingers over her palm like it's the most perfect thing in the world. She marvels at how he can make such a small touch feel so extraordinary.
She wants to remember who she is, but a part of her is scared. Her reactions to the memories are getting more serious; she doesn't know how much more she can take. Certainly not all the memories she had to have built up over her life. She doesn't know how to stop them, though, and she's afraid if they keep coming they might kill her.
"Hey, do I have a home here?" she asks Nathan.
"Yeah. I've been keeping it for you. I'll drive you there." He changes his voice so it will carry. "Duke, we're driving to the Gull."
"Do I live with him?" Audrey asks just loud enough for Nathan to hear. She seriously doubts it, but it sounds like they're going to the same place.
He raises an eyebrow and smirks at her. "You're renting his upstairs."
"Oh." She blushes. Duke comes over with both their coats, and Audrey puts hers on and gets ready to leave. She feels steady enough to walk on her own, and she makes it into the car without any trouble.
Nathan drives a blue Bronco. She loves the comfortable air between them that even Duke's presence in the back seat can't interrupt. The sun has long since set, and the lovely oranges and pinks are replaced by a dark, cloudy night that hardly any stars can force their way through. She hugs her arms to her chest. Even though the wind has stopped for the most part, the temperature dips low enough that she desperately wants to get in a building with heat.
When the Bronco finally pulls over, Audrey wants to give a longer goodbye, but the cold makes her hop out after only giving Nathan a small smile and a thanks. Duke climbs out and heads into the restaurant part, and she runs up the steps and into her apartment. It looks homey; she feels like she could have lived here once. She turns on the heater and waits a minute or two before she's comfortable enough to settle in for the night.
Audrey hunts around in her dresser for a moment and finds yoga pants. She holds off on changing her shirt because she's still cold enough to keep the sweater on. She squirms under the covers and drifts into sleep.
A group of women congregate around her like a jury. Judging, judging what she is, what she's not, what she's going to be, what she needs to be.
"Not enough." The words echo the halls. No one knows who said them first, but it doesn't matter; they've come out of everyone's mouths now. The women's faces come into focus, and she sees them for the first time. All of them are her. One with brown hair; one with red. Another has black hair; another has blonde. Just like her. She is her. Her words are louder than the others', and they are different.
"Not enough, not enough for him, for them, for anyone. Hollow shell pretending to be a real girl. Who else are you going to take? How many souls will you destroy with your fire and your lies? Pull away and let them burn, burn, burn 'cause that's what they deserve for loving you, isn't it? Isn't it?" She backs away, afraid. She wants to say no, but she doesn't know what the truth is anymore. The uncertainty will show, so she can't say anything.
She runs. What else can she do? She runs and runs and runs until she's so far she can't feel their accusatory glares on her back and can't hear their whispering and that solitary, angry scream. But now she's in the tall greenery, much to tall. The hedges can't be cut back, and they threaten to strangle her.
Then there's a fire. Why there is a fire she can't say, but it rages down the main street of a town she doesn't know. Not knowing doesn't mean not caring. She knows people are in there. It's her job to save them; no one else can. So she goes in without any tools because she's special - isn't she? - different; she can help people. She can save them, can't she?
No. She can't save them because they're already dead. It's out of her control. There's nothing she could've done. That's what she keeps telling herself, but is it true? The burning building falls in and death nearly takes her as his own again. But he doesn't.
Everything is going too fast. A million scenarios flash before her eyes. A billion. Why won't it stop? A billion scenarios, all crushing the air out of her lungs. She makes the single word fill her thoughts. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop...
"Audrey! Audrey, wake up!" Duke says, attempting to wake her up. She gazes groggily up at him as her eyes adjust to her surroundings. "Sorry, but you looked like you were having a bad dream. I brought coffee," he adds and hands her a mug.
"Couldn't sleep?" asks Audrey while she takes a tentative sip of her coffee. It's prepared just the way she likes it. She gets up and curls up next to him on her couch.
"No. You could?"
"I was really tired, yeah. But you were right, bad dream, thanks."
"What did you dream about?" She looks at him then looks away again.
"It was...nothing," Audrey says. Her voice catches. That dream terrified her. She's not ready to tell Duke about it yet. He sees that there's more to it than she's saying, but he doesn't press. Instead, he walks over to the cupboard and pulls out a couple bottles of beer.
"One shot or two?"
Audrey's tiring, stressful, and confusing time in Haven convinces her that maybe she deserves a little alcohol. "Two. Definitely." He smiles knowingly as he pours for her, then gives himself the same amount. "Cheers," she says in an emotionless voice. They clink glasses, and she drinks deep.
To Haven, she thinks, the place that has somehow taken away my life and my memories. The place that might or might not have turned me into a useless, hollow shell. The place where it hurts when I remember anything and where I don't even know what year it is. And, I guess, the place I used to call home.
She can't call it home now. Fragments of memory aren't enough to want to give the town that title, though she knows it's the only town that will ever hold it. She wonders if she's always been here, born and raised a local. Something about that brings a smirk to her lips, though, and she knows that can't be right.
"You think too much." It's not a full-fledged memory, but something pops into her head. Someone said that to me while I was in the sixth grade, she realizes, my best friend. And I think Nathan said something like that too, at some point. The small realization makes her happy. Remembering something without the splitting headaches and sickness is definitely a step up. She opens her mouth to tell Duke about it.
She's making pancakes because it's his favorite meal, and she wants everything to be perfect. This is their first date, and she's more than a little nervous. Being asked out by her partner and close friend had been the highlight of, well, her time in Haven. She wants the date to be an even better highlight.
She's almost entirely certain she's in love with him, and she wants to tell him that, as well as show him. Pancakes always did seem more like a breakfast food.
Someone's at the door. It must be him. "Nathan, you're early." She opens the door.
She smells the faint aroma of burning hair and realizes too late that the man at the door is not Nathan.
Her vision comes in and out of focus. Duke is saying something, but she can't hear. He squeezes her hand and looks scared. She can tell something's wrong. Black spots dot the edges of her vision, and she can't remember why she's fighting to stay awake. Everything hurts, and her vision and hearing are only getting worse. She slips out of consciousness.
