Hey there lovely readers!

Here is my next multichapter story! :) Be warned, I don't know how quick I'll be with updates for this one 'cause I have to rewrite quite a bit and work life keeps interfering with the time I would rather spend on writing. But I promise you here and now that I will finish this! ;)

Also, thanks to all of you who send me prompts for my Missing Scenes Collection. I'll keep them all in mind and work on them as soon as inspiration strikes me. ;) In fact, the next missing scene moment is almost done, but for now I'll concentrate on this story...

Just so you now, Trout and season 8 never happened and we start this adventure in 2017. So a few years after season 7 ended.

I hope you enjoy...

Chapter 1:

It felt like being born.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, you open your eyes and there you are.

Well, obviously I wasn't a newborn baby but a full grown human being. But apart from that it was the same. Like someone pressed play in the middle of a movie and I completely missed everything that happened previously. Very confusing.

When I opened my eyes I saw a white, almost empty room. A white blanket covered me and beneath it I saw my own chest rising and falling with every new breath I took. Machines were beeping next to me and my right arm was attached to a tube.

Hospital.

This logic thought came to me automatically out of nowhere. Like the first word I ever thought.

Hospital.

The word stood there, floating around in my empty brain and I knew that I must be right. Where else could I be? Even though I didn't know how I ended up here.

Where am I exactly? Who am I? Why am I here?

I asked my mind, but it didn't answer. My dumb questions echoed around in the space between my ears. No matter how hard I tried to think about it, there was nothing but gaping, absolute emptiness inside of me.

My body felt funny. Somehow numb, as if I couldn't quite reach it yet. Like I was floating. I tried to move my fingers, bending them and flexing them, but even though they moved like I wanted them to they didn't feel like my fingers yet. I tried something different and let my eyes wander around.

A window was located next to me. I could see a flawless, clear blue sky. Beautiful, I thought, but that won't help me answering the questions in my head.

Is it summer? Where am I? Which day is it? Why can't I remember? Am I alone? Where am I?

They were getting louder. In my silent room full of beeping machines and nothingness, my brand new thoughts were my only companions. And they were getting impatient very fast. I felt my breathing pick up.

Where am I? Please, somebody tell me! I'm scared! Holy shit, who the hell am I?!

My mouth hung open as I tried very hard not to hyperventilate. I moved my head in the opposite direction. Too fast. My sight blurred… then it cleared.

And that's when I saw her.

Another person. A human being like me. She was sleeping, curled up on the bed next to mine. She had beautiful, long blonde hair, framing her face like a celestial glow. She bedded her head on her folded hands, legs tucked up. Her features were scrunched up like she was having a bad dream, but, even so, I could see that she was stunning. Almost like an angel. Hey, is this heaven? Am I dead? She wore normal clothes, no hospital gown. No angel wings. So she is human after all. But she's not a patient. What is she doing here?

I started an attempt to talk to her, but my mouth was dry, my throat raspy and unused. Somehow I was afraid of what she would say. Could she even answer the questions I have? Maybe she's as confused as I am. Would she talk to me? Who is she? Curiosity eventually won over my anxiety and I tried again to get my throat to work. "H-Hey." I swallowed. "…'cuse me, Miss."

At that she suddenly opened her eyes, staring straight ahead as if to decide for a second if she was awake or still dreaming. But then she lifted her head and her eyes widened. In a flash she jumped out of the bed and hurried over to me.

"Oh, my god, Shawn!" she exclaimed, immediately taking my limp hands and squeezing them tightly.

I couldn't hide my surprise and obvious discomfort at the stranger's sudden closeness and withdrew my hands quickly. I stared at her like a deer at headlights. She stared back, apparently as shocked as I was although for a different reason, because she tried to grab for my hands again. I didn't know what to say, so I just leaned back with a nervous stutter.

First, she looked truly hurt, then confused and finally, upon realizing my fright, she looked scared as well. "Shawn, I'm here…" She spoke calmly and slowly as if soothing a child. "Everything's fine, you don't have to be scared."

I couldn't hear her. My mind stuck on the name she used.

Shawn. She called me Shawn. Is that me?

She tried to get closer to me again, but grew visibly desperate. Feeling returned into my limbs and I tensed when she tried to lay her hand upon my arm. She knew me and I didn't know her.

"Shawn, you… you don't recognize me, do you?" she whispered as it dawned on her. Her eyes were wide and scared, begging me not to say what she already knew. As I slowly shook my head, one lonely tear rolled out of crystal blue eyes and over her pale cheek. Suddenly, I was sure that no one could ever look sadder than her in this moment.

She spoke with all control she could muster, "It's me, Juliet…"

Nothing.

"Jules." she added.

Jules.

Now, that name triggered… something in my empty brain. It rattled at firmly closed doors to my memories, but I couldn't open those doors. The name bounced back, leaving behind an indefinable feeling of warmness. It was soothing for a moment, but then I saw her sad eyes again and it made me afraid.

She cries. She cries because I can't remember her. I mean something to her. I didn't want her to cry, but how can I stop it?

"I'm sorry." I said feebly. Her eyes filled up with new tears and she stepped back. No, if she leaves I'm alone again. I don't want to be alone. "I'm sorry, I can't." I said again, desperation dripping from every helpless word I formed. I felt broken. Incomplete. I'm broken and she's not. She can remember things that I can't, but that I should.

Trembling, I extended my arms towards her. She pressed her hands in front of her mouth, sobbing heartbreakingly. "No, please, don't cry." I whispered, but I didn't think that she could hear me. She pressed a little red button, her hands shaking like crazy as she repeated over and over again, "Oh, god. Oh, please, no."

Anxiety skyrocketed again. I couldn't speak. We stared at each other without really realizing how much our respective sadness and fear was affecting us.

Suddenly, the door opened to the room that was my world until now and another woman in a white lab coat entered. She had reddish-brown hair, glasses and a surprised look on her face when she saw me.

"Oh, Mr. Spencer. You're awake."

Mr. Spencer? Who the hell is Mr. Spencer? Is that me too? Why does everyone know me? Before the female doctor could come over to me, the first woman I broke spoke up.

"He doesn't remember me. He doesn't know who I am."

She was on the verge of being hysterical, but still managed to keep her voice down with overpowering force and seriousness. Her strangled sounding sobs gave her away and the doctor moved to sooth her instead of me.

"Calm down. Now, breathe…" she told her and I tried to do likewise.

Oh god, I think I'm losing my mind… oh, wait, that already happened. Maybe I would've laughed at that, hadn't the doctor talked on.

"Mrs. Spencer, we have warned you that this could happen after a head injury like this…"

The air got sucked out of my lungs. Did she just say Mrs. Spencer? I'm married?! Reflexively, I lifted my hands and saw a golden wedding band adorning my left ring finger. Oh, god, it's true! And I can't remember her. Of course that made her cry.

Intensely, I tried to follow the doctor's words, hoping that it kept me distracted from the apparent truth I just found out.

"It's not uncommon to suffer from amnesia with accidents that involve motorcycles…"

A wave of new questions swelled as I let my shaking hand travel to my head to come in contact with soft gauze.

Head injury! What happened? She said motorcycle. Do I own a motorcycle!? And somebody please tell me what was amnesia again!?

I felt my heart thumping in my chest. Too much information. The doctor still tried to calm the crying woman. The crying woman who was my wife. The wife I couldn't remember.

Hospital. I'm broken. Amnesia means memory loss. I can't remember anything of my life.

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and my hands were shaking. I opened my mouth to speak with a voice still raspy and strange to my ears.

"What's going on? I'm not… she can't be…" I stared at the blonde woman again and saw in her eyes that she realized my full blown panic attack before the doctor or I did. "I would know! I can't just forget everything! That's not right. I don't… I don't believe you!"

The doctor came closer, trying her calming voice again, but I couldn't hear her. She wanted to touch me, but I flinched back like as if burned from fire. My voice rose, sentences were incomplete. Loud. Panicked. "Don't touch me! This is crazy! I want out! Let me…" The doctor called for help when I tried to stand up. My sight swam, blurred. My heart pumped in my ears. The room was swarmed with more doctors. They grabbed me, holding me still. There was a needle. Panic increased. "No! No needles!" I yelled as loud as I could.

"Stop, wait!" The blonde's voice boomed over the chaos in the room, making everyone pause for a second. "He has a fear of pointy objects!"

"Have not!" I heard myself say before I could hold it back. Then I slowed my struggle as I realized who had spoken. The blonde woman had stepped forward, no traces of fear on her face. She balled her fists and ground her teeth while she was intimidatingly staring at the doctors. Almost as if she was ready to defend me by pulling every one of them back from me with force.

"If you calm down we don't have to use this needle, do you understand?" the red-haired doctor said to me.

Still breathing hard, I looked from her serious eyes, to the needle which involuntary spiked up my fear and back to the woman they called Mrs. Spencer.

What just happened? She knew I'm afraid. How could she know?

I struggled to get my breathing under control. Tension in the room dropped and the other doctors, who had grabbed me, carefully loosened their hold until I slowly nodded at them and they let go.

"I'm sorry. We didn't know about your phobia." the doctor said.

"Well, that makes two of us." I answered sarcastically. It made her chuckle lightly, but I didn't feel like laughing. Sulking, I crossed my arms until she sensed my mood.

"I know this must be very confusing for you. Reactions like this are the reason why we normally don't allow anyone in the room with amnesia patients." She suddenly spoke to the blonde woman again with a hint of accusation. "But she insisted."

Me and the blonde looked at each other again. For the first time I noticed the matching ring on her finger as she nervously massaged her hands. She tried to smile at me encouragingly, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. I didn't know why she was smiling. Her smile faded.

The doctor continued. "I'm Dr. Martin and I'm going to ask you a few questions now to check how much you can remember, okay?"

I nodded, thinking, I can answer that right away, lady. Nothing! I remember absolutely nothing! And it's freaking scary.

"Do you know your name?"

Okay, I might not remember, but I'm not stupid. I heard what they had called me. "S-Shawn." I said with a light insecure shiver. "Shawn Spencer." I answered with more fake confidence and waited for my brain to fill me up with another feeling. Like when I thought about the name 'Jules'. But there was no warmness, no feeling. Nothing moved inside of me.

Dr. Martin glanced at… Jules. I forced myself to give her a name and no longer call her 'the blonde woman'. Obviously, Dr. Martin blamed her for my knowledge and she continued to write something on a clipboard.

"Do you know where you are, Mr. Spencer?"

I looked around to make sure. "Uhm… a hospital."

"Okay, good. Can you tell me the city you're living in?"

I glanced outside the window again where the blue sky gave nothing away and seemed to mock me with its blankness. I shook my head.

"What month is it? What year?" She kept asking questions as I closed my eyes and just shook my head, not caring that my world started spinning. I heard someone suppressing a sob and reopened my eyes. Dr. Martin took notes on her clipboard. Jules looked totally distraught and lost. I felt bad for her. I knew that I was to blame for her sadness. My not knowing anything makes her sad. I need to know something.

"I can give you the time, though." I blurted out, without thinking. "It's 12:57 p.m."

Both women stared at me. Dr. Martin looked around, realizing that there wasn't a clock in the room. She pulled out her phone from her pocket, reading the display. Then she gazed at me in awe as if I was psychic. The woman named Jules straightened up. Hope flared up behind her eyes and I figured that this was better than sadness.

"How did you know that?" Dr. Martin asked.

I opened my mouth, but stopped at the last second before the words could come tumbling out. I had the perfect speech sitting on the tip of my tongue. About how I seemingly adopted paranormal abilities after the amnesia. I didn't know where it came from. It was like the warmness I felt before. A reflex from my former, forgotten life that left me wondering. But it got weirder when Jules proved to have the same powers.

"Tell the truth, Shawn." she said warningly.

I stuttered, completely flabbergasted by the fact that she knew I was about to lie. Her eyes widened when she obviously realized the same. "I, uhm, I… don't really know how…" I said, listening into my brain for answers. This time it granted me a memory. My first pin sharp memory.

The door opened. Dr. Martin comes in. She stepped aside before the door closes again. "Oh, Mr. Spencer. You're awake." There's a clock in the hallway. Red, digital numbers. 12:53. Dr. Martin calls for help. More doctors come in. The clock again. 12:55.

"I saw the digital clock in the hallway when you came in." I finally answered truthfully. "I just added a few more minutes. And, well, it's daytime not night. So p.m." I added, pointing vaguely to the window's direction.

"Fascinating." said the doctor, gawking at me like at a lab rat.

"He could do this before." Jules babbled, suddenly very excited. "You see, he's still there, I knew it!"

I didn't understand what she meant by that even though it seemed to be important. Dr. Martin told her that it's still unlikely that I regain all of my memories just yet and that she wanted to test my brain activities as soon as possible. Apparently, it's a miracle that I even woke up.

I also didn't really care about all the other things she said. I was busy thinking about what I just did. What I saw and remembered in perfect clarity in my head. I was almost absolutely positive that I didn't consciously see the clock when the door opened. I was focused on the crying woman and the fear about why she was crying and then I zoomed in on the doctor's face. And still I remembered the clock, barely visible for less than a second on the left side behind her head.

That's not normal, is it? As if I truly had super powers. But Jules said I did that before.

Right now, she and doctor were arguing about whether or not my true self was still there. I frowned in annoyance as a paranoid thought formed in my head. How should I know what is my true self? They know me and I don't. They could tell me anything they want me to believe and I wouldn't even notice. It's like a rebirth, I thought again. And it was a frightful thought.

"It would be best if you would leave your husband alone so he can rest until tomorrow…" Dr. Martin just said but was interrupted immediately.

"No, no. I'm staying with him! I can't leave." Jules said.

"When you speak to him you could falsify the test results and we can't identify which memories are his own and which ones you have told him."

Jules stubbornly shook her head. "No, I have to…"

"Hey!" I cut them both off, defensively crossing my arms in front of my chest. "If you would ask the patient then he would say that he wants to be alone. I have… a lot… a lot to process."

The beautiful blonde looked at me as if I had betrayed her in the worst way possible. "But, Shawn…"

Betrayal, hurt, sadness, shock.

I couldn't bear it. All those feelings. Big, important feelings all directed at me. I couldn't give her anything back. I don't feel anything when I think about her.

Warmness.

It spread just to prove to me that I was wrong, but I shook it off. "Please, just go…"

The room fell silent. I looked out the window so I didn't have to see her hurt face anymore. It was best for her, wasn't it? All I did was make her cry. I would disappoint her, sadden her even more because I'm broken. I couldn't give her the feelings she expects me to have. I wasn't that husband she knew. Not anymore. Not yet. I didn't even know what I would prefer.

"Alright, Shawn. I'll go." She sniffled. "But I won't give up on us, you hear me?"

That's what frightens me. I felt pressure radiating from her, whether she did it on purpose or not. I got the feeling that she would never give up. And what if that old me, the one I didn't know anymore, was gone forever? Locked inside of me and I would never again able to feel what she felt? Would she still pressure me into being the man she wanted me to be? Am I someone else completely now? Do I want to feel again or would it be easier to take the chance to start anew? Wouldn't my new life be easier that way? Free from any kind of pressure?

The door closed. I was alone with my questions.

Please be kind and leave a review on your way out... ;)