Wendy had insisted Will try to stay awake for the time being. She'd mentioned that if he had concussion, getting some sleep would be the worst decision. So that night, Will sat on the floor of the Mystery Shack's lounge wrapped in a blanket and watched TV. Until quite recently Stan had been sat in his chair mindlessly watching the screen. Some old timey black and white film that he'd eventually fallen asleep during. Will had been absolutely hypnotised by it. He sat with his knees hugged to his chest like a child and watched it start to finish. Only when the final credits began scrolling up the screen did he realise Stan had left to go to bed.

Will stood up and sat on the now empty chair. It was cold now, so Stan must have left some time before. Late night ads began to run and in his tired boredom, Will tried to remember the events that led up to now. Focussing made his head hurt, but he had little else to do and the pain stopped him from falling asleep.

He remembered being sat on the bus, the cold hard impact of metal against his forehead, then waking up outside the Mystery Shack. But his name? That felt alien. It seemed right, but at the same time it felt wrong. He didn't know why he was on the bus or where he had been travelling. He didn't know if he had family or friends.

It was then he noticed his rucksack. The driver had dumped it beside him after carrying him unconcious from the vehicle. Maybe there'd be a clue in there. Will slipped off the chair and walked hesitantly to the bag. It lay tattered, plain black and stitched in some places. The zip on the front pocket had broken. In it's place three safety pins kept it shut and secure. The poor excuse for a bag was the only clue he had.

Will knelt beside it, clutching the zip of the main compartment in one hand and the tattered fabric of the rucksack in the other. He tugged sharply, but it took a few tries for it to open completely.

Inside, there were a mass of unfolded clothes. Some smelt clean, others smelt like they hadn't touched water for months. There was a toothbrush, bristles splayed so much that it was obviously in need of replacing, a stick of deodarant, a comb, a half-empty bottle of shower soap, an empty tube of toothpaste, and a wallet that looked in a similar state to the bag.

The wallet contained no driving license or ID of any kind, no photos of any possible kin or address, no bank or credit cards. It had a few cents in the coin compartment and twenty five dollars in notes - but nothing else. Why? Will sighed loudly and slumped against the wall, chucking his wallet to floor in defeat. Why would he not have any bank cards or ID? No photos or clues to who he was? Tears began to prick in the corners of his eyes and he buried his face in his hands, holding back the rush of hopelessness that had unfolded inside him.

"Will...?"

He started at the familiar voice, his head jolting up as he hurriedly wiped tears from his eyes. Mabel stood in the center of the room with a glass of milk in her hand. Her hair was unkept from bed and her eyelids clearly heavy. The television caused a dim glow to dance on her face. But despite how clearly tired she was, there was a strangely understanding look of concern in her eyes.

Mabel slowly walked over in her pink nightshirt, it hung below her knees and had a boss-eyed pug printed on the stomach. Around it, yellow words read "Not a morning Person", it was dopey, but sweet.

Will's eyes dropped to the wallet and the pile of screwed up clothes he had thrown on the floor, his heart dropped. He still didn't even know his surname or age.

"What's wrong?" Mabel was sat next to him, hugging her knees with one hand, cradling her milk with the other. She studied the mess infront of them. It took a while for Will to think of how to respond.

"I don't know who I am," His voice was quiet, exhausted, "It bothers me that I had this life that I suddenly don't even remember. What if I don't ever remember?"

Mabel gulped her milk, then wiped the liquid moustache from her upper lip with her sleeve. She looked sadly at Will, then smiled reassuringly.

"It'll be ok, y'know why?"

"Why? How can this be ok?" Will gestured to his emptied rucksack and the contents strewn across the floor.

"Because you can make a whole new super amazing awesome new life!" She grinned innocently, "No point thinking about something you can't even think about, so you can just focus on making this life a super fun one." Will turned his head to look at her, he studied her expression carefully, but despite the long pause she still smiled. In the end he couldn't help but smile a little back.

"Thanks... Mabel. You're right. It's just..." His smile wavered a little, "I have nobody. I don't even know if I did in the first place."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here! I'm the most here-ist, totally-friends-with-you-ist, cutist person there is!" She chuckled to herself and finished her milk. "I'm gonna go back to sleeps now. Goodnight! ...Boop." Suddenly her forefinger pressed his nose, she chuckled to herself again and stood, before slowly leaving the room.

Will touched the tip of his nose with mild confusion, but found himself smiling anyway. It was clear to him now - if he couldn't remember who he was then he'd just need to make some new memories instead.