Okay, buckle up, this is a long one... ;)

Special thanks to MandaScooby and SnydersOfHanover who reviewed every chapter until now! You guys are great!

Chapter 4:

Days passed.

I was in and out of consciousness, but in fact sleeping most of the day even though I tried not to. I noticed sleeping was toxic for my mind. Every time I woke up disoriented and confused. Sure, memories came back to me faster every morning, but it was still nerve-wrecking and each time I fell asleep I feared that I'd wake up once and know nothing all over again.

Another thing that bothered me while sleeping were the dreams.

Loud, fast and colorful dreams. Like waterfalls of pictures and sounds raining over my closed eyes. Too many. Way too many pictures. Imagine you're sitting in front of fifty different TV stations all turned up to the maximum volume and trying to follow every one of them at once.

My headaches were painfully terrific. Whoever said that resting heals wounds was a big fat liar. My forehead was burning up, my limbs felt numb and part of me wished that one day I won't wake up at all and all pain would end. Sounds appealing, right?

Marco and Jason seemed eager to keep me alive though. They brought me food and water and tried to keep my fever down. I would hear them rummaging around in the bigger room, talking and watching TV most of the time. Marco would sit with me sometimes and we spoke for a bit. Jason wasn't much of a talker and he didn't really seem to trust me even in my state of constant pain and forgetting.

After a while I decided that it couldn't be that bad to help Marco get away once I'm feeling better. He was nice to me and I didn't have to follow him if I didn't want to, right? He told me I was free to do whatever I liked. Freedom is good. Marco knows what's important to me and he's not pressuring me to be someone else. So, Marco is good, I reasoned.

All of that could have been so easy, but the woman named Jules stayed true to her word. She didn't give up on me. Physically, she was absent, but that didn't stop her from penetrating my mind when I was asleep. Sometimes some of the dizzying moving pictures in my head were standing out more than others. Pictures of Jules.

Her hair down. Golden curls framing her smiling face.

Dressed in a pantsuit. Sitting at a desk, typing on a computer.

Standing next to a tall, serious man. I think I should recognize him by now, but I still don't know who he is.

There was another face that I managed to remember after waking up from such vivid dreams. In my head I called him Black Eight Ball.

Black Eight Ball is everywhere. Frowning at me, laughing at me. I feel I can trust him whenever his bald chocolate head appears in my mind. He's always there. I see him as a child. I see him as a teen. I see him as an adult dressed with his shirt tugged in, carrying a silver case. I think he is my friend.

He wasn't there when I woke up in the hospital, but something tells me that he really wanted to be.

Sometimes I got curious, imagining what it would be like to meet Black Eight Ball. And then reality sent a shot of pain through my brain when I tried to think about him harder. Marco was there, distracting me, helping me to walk on my injured knee and telling me how cool it's going to be like once I can walk on my own and help him escape and we roam around in a new town. And just like that, Jules and Black Eight Ball seemed to be forgotten until my next dream.

I stretched across the floor, dragging myself forward on one elbow. Teeth clenched, one hand securely covering my left knee. Still couldn't reach it. "Oh, come on…" I growled, extending my arm again. Just a few inches. "Ow!" I hissed when I twisted my knee. This can't possibly be so hard! I won't get a chance like this again…

Crawling forward, I finally managed to grab one leg of the wooden chair standing much too far away from my mattress and skidded it closer to me. Ha, now they can't stop me!

Marco and Jason were away to buy food. Usually they only leave me alone when I'm asleep, but I've been feeling better recently and didn't need as much rest as before. After my constant complaining that I was bored, they decided to escape me and get lunch. Marco considered going alone so Jason could 'look after me', as he put it, but he seemed to realize that I would be in graver danger if he left Death Stare Jason and Bored Me alone.

So I kept myself entertained by trying to stand up on my own for the first time. My makeshift bed was almost on ground level and I had to put too much pressure on my knee to stand up from the floor. But now that I had the chair, things will go my way for once!

I supported myself on the seat and pushed my body up. The chair almost tipped over, but with some trembling in my arms I managed to sit on top of it, wiping my brow. Okay, now what should I do? The possibilities seem endless compared to the ones I've had while lying down.

After catching my breath, I decided to go for the main room that was actually some kind of big garage. I was able to look outside every once in a while when hobbling around with Marco. He told me that the garage belonged to a compound for broken cars, waiting to get scrapped. That was my hiding place. There wasn't much to do in the main room either, but I got drawn in by the TV. I just want to pass the time. Surely, Marco and Jason have nothing against it.

Although, I noticed that the TV is solely on when I was lying in bed. Never when I was up. And even then it was turned down so quietly that I – being next door – couldn't really understand what was going on. I didn't reckon that they were doing it on purpose, so I thought nothing more of it and settled for some TV alone time as long as my companions were gone.

At a snail's pace I staggered forward, steadying myself on the doorway and then onwards through the open room. Proud of my accomplishment I let myself fall onto the battered, brown couch, reaching for the remote control. Finally some fun and entertainment!

I flipped through the channels, watching bits of some lame sitcoms that apparently got pushed away from their evening slot to midday. I found myself laughing nonetheless, welcoming every kind of distraction. There was a sitcom called "Seinfeld" and I was sure that I heard it before somewhere, but the only glimpse of memory I caught was with Black Eight Ball again. I watched it with him. Numerous times.

After the show ended it was time for the news at noon. I considered changing the channel, because the newscaster wore a toupee – what a fake way to start a newscast – but stopped right on time as a picture of me appeared on the screen and he was announcing the local headline:

"Psychic of Santa Barbara Police Department still missing. The local authorities are still at loss how Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer could disappear from his hospital bed one week ago. Until now there are no traces of struggle or force, indicating that the PI with diagnosed amnesia caused by a motorcycle accident wandered off on his own accord. His family, friends and colleagues are asking the citizens for help."

There was footage of a distraught-looking Jules. Dark circles under her eyes and tears brimming in them as she struggled to keep her voice from quivering.

"He's 5'9'', dark-brown hair, h-hazel eyes and when he… uhm, disappeared… he had a bandage 'round his head. He's very confused a-and doesn't know where he belongs anymore, so if you see him, please, contact the police immediately… and Shawn…"

She looks directly into the lens of the camera.

"If you're seeing this right now… please, come home to me."

Shocked, I stared at the TV screen where the footage changed back to the fake looking newscaster who seamlessly went into the next topic. He moved his mouth, but I failed to follow his words. With my jaw slackened, I slumped back on the couch. What was that!? My head started pounding as flashes of distorted, incoherent memories resurfaced in my brain.

Warmness. Psychic Detective. "This is not funny, Shawn!" A window with light green lettering. A terra-cotta colored building. Cops. Dad. Jules. She's crying. "I need space." She's laughing. She hugs me. "Home should be wherever you are." A gunshot. The lanky guy. He's a detective. Her partner. "Thanks for saving her." A warehouse. Drugs. "What the hell, Spencer?!" A motorcycle…

A slamming door.

"What the hell!"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

I barely caught glimpse of the TV again. There were pictures of Marco and Jason. And the headline: Drug gang fugitives. And then Marco snatched the remote control from my hand and turned it off.

"Hey, amigo, what makes you think that you can walk around on your own already?" Marco questioned with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"This is your fault, Marco!" Jason hissed accusingly.

I only rocked back and forth with my head covered between my arms, willing the pain and dizziness to go away. Their voices were too loud. Angry. What did I just remember? Too much at once.

"Shh, idiot." Marco hissed back. "Let's… let us all calm down for a bit, okay?"

"W-What is your fault?" I asked the Latino.

"Nothing. Jason is just… worried. He said it would be a bad idea to leave you on your own."

I looked up, still massaging my temple and saw Jason's angry face. Oh yeah, he's so worried he could probably kill me with one glance.

"So, what were you doing up?" Marco asked again. "You could have hurt yourself."

"I'm fine. Stop babying me." I said, confused over Marco's sudden change from angry to worried. "I was bored and I needed something to do…" Lost in thoughts I stared back at the black TV screen, my memories still humming and buzzing in the back of my head ready to break free once more.

Marco noticed. "How much have you seen?"

"I… I'm not sure…" I stuttered. I'm not sure if I should tell you what I saw, but instead I said, "I saw… me, I guess… they're looking for me. They say I'm a… Detective." 'Psychic', is what the TV had said. Am I one of those freaks who read palms and such? Is that what my mind tricks are about? There has got to be more to this…

"Like I told you." Marco reminded me quickly. "You're our inside man. Those stupid cops never even noticed that you were in fact one of us."

Marco looked at me expectantly. Jason crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. They seemed to be nervous about something. About me? What have I done?

"Did you see that they're looking for us, too?" Jason asked bluntly.

I nodded. "Just briefly. My brain had a major meltdown in between. Why… why is that so important to you?"

"For god's sake, Jason! You're ruining everything! Just go!" Marco yelled suddenly.

The two men stared venomously at each other, until Jason retreated without taking his eyes off of me. He fished for his cigarette box and opened the garage door to step outside. Marco focused back on me and I dithered between being grateful that he made the mean guy go away and being suspicious about why he made him go away.

Marco smiled and patted my shoulder. "Sorry for yelling, amigo. It's just that Jason can't understand that things like what you saw on TV could confuse you. You're not fully healed yet, Shawn, and we don't want you to lose touch with reality again, right?"

He paused shortly, but I just managed to open and close my mouth, dumbfounded. I felt like I already lost touch with reality.

"So, yeah, it's true. They're looking for us." Marco continued. "But they have no idea that we're playing for the same team. And if we're careful they won't even notice when we skip town. Never forget that, pal. We're so close. If you're up for it we could probably leave in a few days." He patted my shoulder again. Harder this time. Excited. "We'll go wherever you want. Just think about it, man!"

I awkwardly smiled back. "Yeah. Sounds good." With one final friendly shove, Marco retrieved some styrofoam boxes that he carelessly threw to the ground before and we started eating Mexican food. I watched him dig in, but didn't really feel the urge to eat myself. Something still bothered me. "Hey, uhm, there's one more thing I remembered… someone. That… that lady… the policewoman. She seemed really torn up about my disappearance."

"The blonde chick?" Marco rolled his eyes. "Man, just forget her already! You just charmed her and she fell for it. Hard. Silly, poor thing. You're better off without her, pal, believe me. She's way too clingy."

Something moved inside of me. A feeling swelled up in my chest: annoyance mixed with the sudden urge to smack Marco in the face. I caught myself thinking, "You're not talking about her like that!" I could barely stop myself from saying that out loud. Did I just want to defend someone I didn't know? How good do I really know her? I looked down on my left hand. For the first time since I woke up in Marco's hideout I realized that I was still wearing the ring. Is she clingy? Is that why we're married in the first place? How long have I known her? Since when was I that supposed inside man for the police?

Warmness.

She's dancing around in my head again. She wears a beautiful, white dress, looking like an angel. A white goddess. I spin her around. She ends up in my arms. Her cheeks, red, happy. Her eyes, sparkling with joy. She comes closer to me. She kisses me.

Love.

With a start I shot up from my bed. Panting, I looked around in the bare, dark room that was so much different than my bright and happy dream. I felt dizzy from moving so quickly and sank back down, closing my eyes. She was still there. Still dancing.

"Oye, Shawn, you alright?"

I took a few more deep breaths before answering Marco. "Yeah… just another… another nightmare."

"Care to talk about it?" he asked.

I considered his offer for a bit, recalling what he had said before.

"She's nobody. Forget about her."

"No," I answered. "No, I'm good. Night, Marco."

"Night, Shawn."

My eyes popped open as soon as I heard him retreating. I touched my lips, tingling as if she just kissed me. There was love. I felt it. That's it. I can no longer believe that she's nobody. Something is very wrong here and I need to find out what it is.

There was a new level of suspicion on both sides on the next day. That last dream opened my eyes. It was clear for the first time and not distorted or mingled with ten other memories simultaneously. I saw Jules, felt her vividly, as if she was truly there. Suddenly, I noticed all the hidden, observant glances Marco and Jason threw at each other or at me. Their hushed talks when they thought I was sleeping. Their anger when they caught me watching TV.

Something is wrong; my gut is telling me that. I chose to trust it.

I was still afraid of my old life. I didn't like that it makes me feel so helpless. So dependent on others. So not in control.

But was this new life really so much better?

All I had from Marco and Jason was their word. No old memories. But with Jules the memories were getting stronger every day. I had to trust someone to make me heal completely. I wanted to heal. I wanted to be someone. Someone real.

I stayed in bed all morning, refusing to eat and let Marco and Jason believe that I was feeling worse again. It was late afternoon and I still pretended to be asleep, waiting for them to finally leave me alone to get something to eat. I heard them fight about it, but eventually their hunger was getting the best of them and Marco 'jokingly' warned me that I shouldn't try anything stupid today. Then I heard the garage door click shut.

I sat up. What should I do? Leave? Find proof of their possible crimes? Find proof for my dream? I didn't know where to start, so I repeated my actions from yesterday and dragged myself over to the chair to sit on it and think.

How should I find out more about Jules? Remembering her will hurt. Is it worth the pain?

Still lost in thought, my gaze flew down to the wedding band on my finger again. I wore it so naturally, without really noticing that it was there. I touched the metal with my right hand. Nothing yet. The dream I had appeared to be our wedding day. So, surely a lot of memories were still hidden somewhere inside of me, waiting to be released. This has to be good. Maybe I'm not completely broken at all. Maybe there truly were happy days.

I pulled the ring off, rolling it between thumb and index finger. There were some letters engraved into the inside of the golden band. I looked closer.

Shawn & Juliet – Yours forever – December 28th 2013

Here we go. Ringing in my ears and a whirlwind of memories in my brain.

The ocean breeze. It's chilly, but she wanted to get marriedat the beach. We got lucky. The sun is shining. Me again, dressed in a tux, looking upwards, thankful for the winter sun. "Shawn, we're ready!" Black Eight Ball. Tears of joy in his eyes. Tears of joy in her eyes. Jules takes my hand. Gently, slipping on the ring. Oh, her eyes! Shining with sincerity. "I love you, Shawn Spencer. Forever." A kiss. My hands, slipping on her ring. "I love you, too."

For the first time, I clearly heard my own voice in my memories. Stating that I was really there. That it was really me, telling her I loved her.

The world spun around me as the flashback ended. My heart beat fast and my head pounded in unison. Still I wanted more! This was good. I craved for some good memories, for some happiness. I wanted to know more about her.

Slipping the ring back on, I clenched my fists and closed my eyes, picturing her in my mind, forcing the memories to come back. More ringing, louder, sharper. I pictured her exactly the way I saw her last, when I asked her to leave me alone in the hospital. As she walked backwards. "I'm here for you." Eyes filled with undying hope.

More pain. Her pain. "Are you telling me this is all a lie?" Heartache. Hope. Love. "I never lied about the way I feel for you." She embraces me. She's there for me. She accepts me exactly how I am. Me, bent down on one knee. "I'll always fight for you. I won't lose you ever again."

There was more. So much more. The pictures kept coming. A thousand voices in my head. I couldn't process all of them. So many colors. So loud. So much.

Suddenly, I was kneeling on the floor, emptying my stomach in front of me. I had to stop. My brain went into overload. I remembered so many details at once that I started sweating and my heart drummed as if it would burst out of my chest any second now. With trembling arms, I hovered above the ground. Don't fall down or you won't get up!

I forced myself to straighten up, my knee screaming in protest as I did so. Up. I have to get up. One memory in particular repeated itself in my brain.

I won't lose you ever again.

I made her that promise when I proposed. I knew that now. We broke up once, the details were a little fuzzy, but that didn't matter right now. I promised that I would fight and instead I betrayed her. I left her.

I struggled to my feet, staggering to the metal door, breathing heavily. In and out. In and out. I can do this. I felt the urge to look around some more. There wasn't really a doubt left in my mind, but I wanted to be sure. I wanted to know who Marco and Jason really were. If they lied to me about Jules, they most likely lied about everything else, too. I had to know why.

I moved along the wall, looked into shelves that were almost empty and dug through a messy desk. I came up with nothing. There were boxes with garbage from our takeout food and wooden crates I couldn't open without a crowbar. The sofa and the TV, I tried that already… what else?

My gaze swiveled over to the other side of the garage. The side with the garage door and a big, plain canvas covering what I assumed was most likely a vehicle. I've never bothered to look beneath; it was there before Marco and Jason brought me here.

I hobbled over, determination buzzing in every fiber of my being. With a suppressed wince, I steadied myself as I reached the side of the covered object. My fingers gripped the canvas tightly, relieved that there was a solid surface beneath on which I could support my weight. Silently, I counted to three then I pulled at the cover.

A dark blue car came into view. At first glance nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I checked the doors, but it was locked. I pried through the tinted windows, but it appeared to be empty. Steadied by the car, I moved around it, observing the back and the driver's side and finally the front.

That's when I did a double-take.

The front grill of the car was damaged. It was bend inwards and the metal was scratched, as if another hard, metallic object collided with it. The blue color chipped off and I thought I could make out some tiny shards of black…

I hear a crash. I am afraid. I sit on the motorcycle, engine roaring. Heart pounding quickly. I hear my own panicked breathing. A look over my shoulder. The dark blue car. It comes closer. I recognize the men sitting in the front seats. Jason on the passenger side, Marco behind the wheel.

I stumbled backwards.

They chased me. We were not getting away from the police, I was trying to get away from them.

They're the reason I had the accident.

"Oh, crap, they're the bad guys. I was wrong." I muttered to myself in shock.

But, as usual, whenever you think thing can't possibly get any worse, that's when you hear faint voices and steps on the gravel road nearing the garage door.

Uh oh!

Please, don't forget to review and let me know what you think! :)

And by the way, did someone catch that Shawn was quoting himself without noticing when he thought about the fake newscaster? Remember the episode? ;)