Author Note: This story takes place sometime after the events of 5.3 and 5.4 and ignores 5.5. Any medical stuff in this story is completely made up by me for dramatic purposes – I have no idea if this is actually possible/probable, but I think it makes a good story for our favorite couple!
Malcolm found her sobbing in the pantry.
"Ruth, come here." He wrapped her in her arms.
"I should have been there…"
"Don't be daft. There's nothing you could have done, and we would be worrying for the both of you. Harry wouldn't thank you for it, and that's a fact."
"Where…?"
"I'm still running a search of the likely hospital databases, but we should know in a few more minutes."
"Stupid, stupid man…" and she continued to cry softly.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
He let the chaos wash over him. He felt the blood trickle down his face, the taste of it making him nauseous. His shoulder was most certainly dislocated, and based on the burning in his chest, many of his ribs were done, too. But his head – it was pain he had never imagined. He was vaguely aware of figures moving about in the smoke. He tried to call out to them, but the ringing in his ears made it difficult for him to know if he had been successful or not. He tried to stand, but pain kept him anchored to the ground. It could have been a few moments or a century, and he felt rather than saw gentle hands turn him over and lift him onto a gurney. Suddenly he was in fresh air, and he was relieved that the ringing seemed to have subsided a bit.
"Sir, what's your name?"
It felt as if his skull was on fire. Panic gripped him.
"I have no idea."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The relief she felt when Malcolm told her the news was soon replaced by consternation. Why would Harry be admitted to hospital, not as Harry Pearce, but as his legend for the Embassy reception? It didn't make sense. Adam had gone to find out more about Harry and it took all of her willpower not to ask to go with him. Right now she was needed to find out how a bomb worked its way past Embassy security in the first place.
An uncharacteristic swear escaped Malcolm's lips.
"What is it?" Jo asked.
"I hacked into the hospital database to get an update on Harry's condition."
"Is it that bad?" Ruth had gone pale.
"He's not there."
"Then he's been discharged." Jo countered.
"No, he's not there. If he had been merely discharged, there would still be a record of him being admitted. There's nothing. It's as if he didn't exist."
"Could it be just protocol for a spook?"
"I've never heard of such a thing."
Forty-eight hours later…Adam entered through the pods, followed closely by the DG.
"Could we have everyone in the Briefing Room?"
It must be about Harry was the thought on everyone's minds as they sat around the conference table.
"I want to thank all of you for your work these last few days. I know it's not been easy." The DG started.
"What happened to Harry?" Ruth asked pointedly.
The DG seemed to gather his thoughts, as if debating within himself how much to tell.
"That's what I need to talk to you all about. As you know Harry was, unfortunately, in the blast at the Embassy. He's recuperating from some pretty serious physical injuries."
Jo looked over to her friend to see how she was taking this news. She knew Ruth was having the hardest time of anyone with this current situation, regardless of what she said to the contrary.
The DG continued,
"There's been a complication, though."
"What kind of complication?" Malcolm asked.
"Harry's lost his memory." Adam answered.
"Apparently, in some cases of amnesia, you can forget how to do things like walk and talk, but luckily Harry is of the "high-functioning" sort. He can remember things like how to read and write and even retains some general knowledge, but any personal information is completely gone, at least temporarily."
"How temporarily?"
"The doctors are doing what they can. They'd like all of you at some point over the next few days to go see Harry, and see if that jogs any memories for him. Dr. Collins will be in touch to coordinate with you. Until then, Adam is in charge."
"Hopefully, not for long," Adam countered.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
He had had enough. The drugs they had given him made the situation worse. Instead of a throbbing head and bouts of dizziness, he had nausea, dry mouth, and couldn't sleep. Everything about his life was a complete blank, and he was terrified. Was he married? Did he have a family? The previous day he was hastily transferred to this clinic, and a very well-dressed and pompous man explained to him that his name was Harry Pearce, and he worked for MI-5. If it weren't for the serious look on the young blond man who was also in the room, he might have thought it was all an elaborate joke. In addition to all the tests he had to go through every day, he was going to be subjected to a strange kind of lineup – people from his life paraded in front of him in the hope that the memories would be unlocked. Collins seemed optimistic, and Harry hoped to God he was right.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Ruth thought back to their one and only date, and it struck her that she was similarly nervous, which was ridiculous. She had no real hopes that he would recognize her. She was the last of the Grid to go do this, and so far, there had been no breakthroughs. No one had been recognized; Zaf had half-heartedly joked that maybe they should just bash Harry over the head like they do in bad movies. Jo was particularly somber when she came back from her meeting, and avoided Ruth the rest of the afternoon.
Dr. Collins met her outside.
"Ms. Evershed. How are you?"
"Fine. How's Harry?"
"Grumpy." She laughed.
"So the same old Harry then."
"I suppose so. So, you know the rules?"
"Yes, I'm not supposed to volunteer any information, about him or myself. Sounds like it might be a short conversation."
"Well, we had to restrict things a bit – Harry's too observant for his own good. I suppose that's why he does what he does. He managed to get one of the nurses' life stories out of her before we knew it. We really need to be able to separate out his memories from his present observations, if possible."
They walked down a long corridor, and before they could enter Harry's room, a nurse approached.
"Dr. Collins, can I have a quick word?"
"Ms. Evershed, would you mind going on in? I won't be a moment."
The room was bright and sunny, and Harry stood at the window, his back to her. At the sound of the door opening, he bellowed,
"I told you I'm not taking those drugs, so bugger off!"
"Sorry?"
Surprised at the unexpected voice, he turned around quickly, and instantly regretted it as dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. She spoke again, and it was like someone had thumped him hard between the shoulder blades.
"Are you OK?"
"Yes. It'll pass in a second…I'm sorry for that just now. I obviously thought you were someone else."
"Obviously." She smiled, and his mind was reeling.
I know this woman?
"Please, sit down. I suppose you're the latest from the spook parade? Or are you a ringer?"
"Ringer?"
"I wouldn't put it past Collins to throw in a few random people to throw me off. Poor man is convinced I'll hoodwink him so I can get out of here, and then become a menace to society." He grinned, and Ruth's heart hammered away a little bit quicker.
"You're not taking any medication?"
She's worried about me.
"They're doing more harm than good. I'll take my chances with the headaches."
"How are you? Otherwise, I mean."
He considered her carefully. The niggling feeling in the back of his mind was most definitely not going away.
"Apart from not having the faintest idea who I am, I'm OK. Still sore, but considering what happened…" He got up and started pacing the room, glancing hard at her every so often.
He's scared.
She was having a hard time resisting the urge to take him in her arms and comfort him. The man in front of her was so unlike the Harry Peace of the Grid, who was always reluctant to show fear. This vulnerability was oddly endearing, and it occurred to her that maybe it was always just lurking beneath the surface, if one were to look hard enough. They were silent, and his stares seemed to go straight through her. She must have looked discomforted, because he suddenly stopped his pacing, and sat down again.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare. It's just…" he trailed off, not knowing how to explain what was going on in his head.
"It's OK. You're in a difficult situation."
"Thank you."
"Some would be envious, being able to forget things."
She's had sadness in her life.
"But not at the cost of losing the good things as well, surely?"
Before she could answer him, Dr. Collins came in.
"How are you, Mr. Pearce?"
Harry merely pouted. Ruth thought it would be interesting to watch a battle of wits between these two. The doctor addressed Ruth.
"How has he been?"
"A perfect gentleman. We actually were on the verge of waxing philosophic there, just before you arrived."
Harry noticed the playful glint in her impossibly blue eyes, and he was suddenly crestfallen.
What I wouldn't give in this moment to know you.
"Well, I can take you back when you are ready." the doctor said.
"Would you like to stay for tea, Ruth?"
More to come soon…please review!