Nota Bene:

Thank you, Ellasphere, for your help with this. I revised this so much that I lost my ability to actually comprehend what I was reading. A fresh pair of eyes can be so invaluable.

Thank you, all you kind souls who have reviewed my story, so far. Knowing that people still want to read this, inspires me to keep writing.

I apologize for this update being so overdue. This chapter was insanely difficult. I had a lot to cram into a little space. Little, because I didn't want to dwell too long on trivialities, but I felt some things needed to be mentioned. This chapter is definitely the filler.

A last minute decision involved adding a new OC. It was a direction I hedged about for a couple of months, before I bit the bullet. It is a gamble for me, as expanding the idea will require a fair bit of personal reference. It will be up to you, my readers, to determine if this gamble pays off in this and subsequent chapters.

Disclaimer:

I don't own National Treasure or its characters. I can only lay claim to my OCs. Y'all know who I mean.

Now, on to the story!

Chapter Seven

"Say when you're alone, it's better, 'cause nobody knows you. When no one's your friend, it's better, 'cause nobody leaves you. So, you turned your back on a world that you could never have, 'cause your heart's been cracked and everyone else's is goin' mad."

-Jakob Dylan (The Wallflowers)

Riley got out of Ben's rental car and took a deep breath of the frigid, fresh air. Ben had driven them to a Wal-Mart Supercenter in nearby Newington for soft food that Riley could eat and more clothes for Ben, who had only packed one outfit for his trip to Hartford.

It had been three days since Riley had woken up. Fed up with how long his stay was taking, he had signed himself out. Of course, Ben and Doctor Greene had protested, but what could either of them do? Ben's temporary power-of-attorney status had dissolved automatically once Riley had awakened from his coma and the hospital couldn't hold a sane adult against his will. He still wasn't eating regular meals, because his stomach was still a bit touchy, but beef broth and nondescript mush were a step above the IV that had been disconnected two days prior.

He had met with his father's lawyer the day after waking up. The timing was at the lawyer's insistence and Riley was actually relieved to get it over with. The meeting with Attorney Statten had taken a mere ten minutes, just long enough to go over the will and sign off on the necessary paperwork while Ben signed as a witness. Ten minutes was all it took for Riley to receive an estate worth enough to ensure he would never again have to worry about money.

No, he couldn't palm it off on the city of Hartford, because of a specific clause in the will. He was stuck with it, whether he liked it or not.

At the moment he signed his name on the dotted line and Attorney Statten left, Riley expected all Hell to break loose. However, nothing happened. His stay in the hospital was uneventful, a far cry from the events that had landed him there in the first place.

Each passing minute made Riley more nervous. He had tried to find answers by hacking into the Harford PD database, once Ben had been kind enough to go back to his hotel room to retrieve his laptop, but that had proven unsuccessful. He found there was a basic file opened, for protocol's sake, but the case had already been classified as cold. How could the case be dormant after a mere six days and when no one had even interviewed him? He could name would-be murderer! That had to mean something!

"Coming?" Ben asked, startling Riley from his reverie.

He followed Ben inside the massive store, letting his mind wander as they perused the aisles. It didn't take long for his mind to start to meander as well.

It chilled him to the bone that Burton had tried to poison him. The man had practically raised him the first part of his life. He had taken Riley to school on his first day of kindergarten, served Riley all his meals and acted as his father's advocate on birthdays and Christmases. What did that all mean, now? Why go through the motions all these years, only to kill him anyway? He must have known all along that Riley would inherit the estate, someday. He could have gotten him out of the way years ago. What was so special about now?

As if to rub salt in the deep, festering wound, he was still no closer in the search for his biological mother. He had combed through every people search database in existence on the Internet. Also, he had hacked into Social Security records for help. After all that searching, he was only able to come up with one other possible relative, a Michael Greenburg. Also, he had discovered via the Social Security records that his other potential relative, Doris Greenburg, had passed away, leaving Michael as his only contact. Riley had tried to call him from his hospital bed, to no avail. Michael Greenburg's phone number seemed to be in service, but the phone just rang incessantly. After the third attempt to call the probable relative, he had slammed the phone down in disgust.

"We need to try and see him in person," he'd said to Ben.

"Riley, you don't even know this guy is really your relation. Besides, I don't think you're well enough to go traipsing all over the country. You need your rest."

"You are here to help me, not smother me. There will be plenty of time for rest when this sorry mess is resolved," Riley said through gritted teeth. "Now, this is going to play one of two ways. If you are so concerned about my welfare, you won't have a problem driving me to West Warwick. Otherwise, I will rent a car and drive myself while you busy yourself catching the first flight home, because it will be obvious that your concern and promises of help are merely empty words. "

Ben had looked at Riley, ire burning in his eyes, but he reluctantly relented. He muttered something about how Abigail would crucify him if Riley ended up in the hospital again.

Well, Riley reasoned, Abi would have to take a number, because he was ready to kill Ben, himself. Each passing day, made him more impatient with his friend's overprotective, wet blanket attitude. He strongly missed his independence and privacy. He had been alone so long that to have someone hover over him constantly was too much.

The trouble was that Ben hadn't left his side since he woke up, except to nab Riley's laptop and duffel bag from his hotel room, grab a brief shower and nab the occasional snack from the hospital's vending machine. Even then, Ben had asked hospital security to sit with Riley until he returned.

"Someone needs to be here in case anyone else tries to come after you," he had said, "and the Hartford P.D. seem loathe to do their job."

If it wasn't bad enough that Ben thought Riley needed babysitting at the age of thirty, there were the increasing number of awkward moments, mostly consisting of stilted attempts at conversation as they tried to catch up on the trivialities of their respective lives. All they served were to remind Riley that he had missed out on a lot over the last six months and his own life seemed like it was stuck in an eternal stall pattern.

Ben and Abigail were planning to start a family. Riley had lost his girlfriend four months earlier. They definitely sat on opposite ends of the spectrum as far as settling down was concerned.

Covert plans had started regarding Page 47 and it looked like Ben would soon be swept off on another hunt for a historical find. Riley had tried to write another book, but a nasty combination of writer's block and lingering disappointment concerning his first book hindered his efforts. He managed to write all of one page and that page was fairly lackluster. He ended up scrapping the idea altogether.

Riley had returned to hacking as a means to keep a roof over his head after the IRS had taken most of his finder's fee from the Cibola discovery to pay the fines his accountant had helped him accrue. Ben had been less than pleased with Riley's "profession," citing its dangers. Riley didn't like Ben's attitude and was quick to express his disgust at the hypocrisy.

"You weren't terribly concerned with my safety when I broke you into the Preservation Room or the Queen's residence." That had earned him a rather hostile glare, but it had shut Ben up.

Their truce three days earlier had seemed like the real deal, but anything could lose its luster in the cold light of day. Riley realized that he and Ben had never been together when they weren't searching for a treasure or Abigail wasn't there to run interference and that insight cast a pall over him. They had been friends for nearly five years. Sure, those years had been in bits and pieces, a few months here, a day there, another week here, but in all that time Riley and Ben had moved beyond the initial stages of friendship. Hadn't they?

Now, stop it! This isn't exactly a normal situation and Ben is a bit out of his element, here. However, they had certainly been in abnormal situations before and Riley remembered the friendship flowing a bit easier. It didn't help Riley's unease that Ben kept shooting him these looks; a potpourri of concern, hurt, skepticism and guilt. Riley surmised that the concern and guilt stemmed from the poisoning and the accident. The hurt, likely, was because Riley hadn't confided fully in him, yet.

Much to Riley's chagrin, Ben hadn't been wholly content with the abridged version that Riley had told of his life. While his friend had not been so uncouth as to ask direct questions, he had done plenty of hinting or baiting as Riley preferred to call it. Riley refused to bite and, try as he might, Ben couldn't quite hide his disappointment and frustration each time.

The apparent skepticism, however, threw him for a loop. Ben had said he believed his story at the coffee shop. In the six days since, had Ben changed his mind about the situation and Riley? He didn't want to think about it. Instead, he clung to a hope that since no such problem had been voiced, no such problem existed. Yes, it was childish beyond measure, but it saved whatever shred of sanity that Riley still managed to grasp on to. He would never admit it out loud, but if Ben were to suddenly turn his back on him, it would destroy him.

Riley felt it wasn't a question of if the other shoe would drop, but when. When Ben and Abigail inevitably came to the conclusion that he was too much to bear, how would he know? Maybe, everyone would just go their separate ways, again, only Ben and Abigail would just keep going next time.

Stick to the plan. Ben will be miffed, even irate, but he can build a bridge and get over it. He has more important things to worry about, anyway. Don't make him bear the brunt of all your drama, too. Remember what happened the last time you unloaded on someone? She couldn't leave fast enough! Don't make that mistake, again. You can't afford another blow like that one.

"Riley!"

Riley snapped to attention in time for Ben to thrust a can in his face. "What's that?"

"It's corned beef hash. It's soft enough that I think your stomach will be able to handle it."

Riley wrinkled his nose as he looked at the picture on the can. "It looks like dog food. Did the FDA really approve that stuff? Seriously, I wouldn't be surprised to find it on a recall list in the near future. You know, Abi might not be so thrilled that you're trying to feed me Alpo."

"She won't be thrilled to learn you signed yourself out of the hospital, either. She'll be so busy chewing you out, she won't have an ounce of sympathy for your dietary dilemma."

"Touché."

Ben put several cans of the vile-looking food in the shopping cart. He'd already picked up two cases of water, soup, a few cans of creamed corn and a large jar of applesauce. Riley hadn't had much say in the matter and his annoyance with Ben grew. Unfortunately, his friend didn't seem to know or care that he was crossing a very fine line. Riley had to get away from Ben before he did something desperate, like, wrap his hands around his friend's neck. His opportunity came when they reached the Men's Apparel department.

"I'll be in Electronics."

"Riley, I don't think it's safe for us to separate."

Riley took a deep breath to quell the temper that threatened to erupt and he spoke through clenched teeth. "Unless you planned on having me follow you into the dressing room, we were going to be separated, anyway. Besides, if you need help dressing yourself, I'm sure Abi will be able to coach you via phone. I suspect she's been choosing your clothes as of late, anyway." With that he turned on his heel and walked briskly in the direction of the Electronics department, not bothering to see what reaction he had elicited from Ben.

Riley was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he was, indeed, alone. He took his time browsing through the aisles in search of a replacement I-Pod. He had left his in D.C. In fact, he hadn't realized his mistake until he was on the plane. Not only did he lack an effective way of tuning Ben out, but his tunes had always provided solace when the stress of his life got to be too much. They were like nonjudgmental friends, something that humans could never be despite their best intentions.

He browsed the selection of devices displayed before him. He compared the players displayed and discovered a 64-gigabyte IPod Touch. Deciding that this was even better than the 32-byte version he currently possessed, he turned to leave the aisle, planning to hunt down an associate who could retrieve the item from the locked display case.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, ready to tell Ben off for hovering over him, only to find himself face-to-face with someone he didn't immediately recognize.

"Well, Ryerson, long time no see," said the man. He was tall, about Ben's height with dirty blonde hair. He had piercing gray eyes that seemed to look right through Riley, but it was the smarmy smile that sent chills down his spine.

Riley couldn't put his finger on it, but something seemed vaguely familiar about the man. A memory tried to surface, but it was dreamlike, intangible. Maybe he imagined possibly knowing this person. He had sustained a rather nasty bump to the head in the car accident. While medical tests hadn't revealed any damage, it could have knocked around his synapses a bit.

The man's smile seemed to fade, but his gray eyes remained sharply focused on Riley. "You don't seem to remember me."

Riley shook his head, but the nagging familiarity dogged him. "Sorry, I don't. Have we met?"

"It's me, Louis Dawson. Remember, I worked on your father's estate for a summer when you were a kid. Think hard. I know you can recall, though, I admit we didn't part on the best of terms." The hand returned to Riley's shoulder and ran down the length of his arm in an intimate gesture.

Riley's blood froze as his eyes widened. He felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head and he backed away from Louis' reach. His mind reeled, dizzyingly, as other, long-buried memories clawed their way to the surface. Breathing became insanely difficult and his knees shook convulsively. He gripped the edge of the display to steady himself.

"What is it?" The question was not one of concern, but there was a distinctly snide tinge to it. Dan stepped closer to Riley and placed a hand on the small of Riley's back, rubbing it in large circles.

Riley shook off the offending gesture. "Don't touch me!" he hissed. The IPod forgotten, he turned and nearly sprinted back to Men's Apparel where he hoped Ben was waiting for him.

The cart lay outside the fitting room, but there was no sign of Ben. Obviously, he was still inside. Riley's breath caught in his throat. They had to leave. Now! He felt a touch on his shoulder and he jumped.

"That was rude of you to just run off. We have so much to catch up on."

"Like Hell we do," Riley said, trying to keep himself from succumbing to the old feeling of intimidation. He backed off several paces. "Just stay away from me."

"Now, Ryerson, that's no way to treat an old friend," Louis said as he inched closer to Riley.

"What's going on here?"

Riley felt relief course through him and he released a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding as he looked in the direction of the fitting room. Ben stood in the doorway, with some clothes draped over his arm and skepticism clearly defined on his face. He looked at Riley for a long moment, his gaze resting on Riley's eyes. When Ben looked at Louis, the doubtful look grew immeasurably.

"Oh, I'm just an old friend. Louis Dawson," he said as he extended a hand to the approaching Ben. "And you would be?"

Ben returned the handshake, warily. "Ben Gates. I'm Riley's friend."

Louis regarded Ben with a condescending smirk, then turned to Riley. "Still into the older guys, I see."

Riley's breath caught in his throat and his blood chilled. Shit. He could feel Ben's curious expression and shuddered at the revolting thoughts that had to be running through his friend's head." I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to sound nonchalant as he quaked on the inside. He wanted to be anywhere, but here, right now. In fact, if the floor could just open up and swallow him, that would be wonderful.

Thankfully, Ben didn't probe Riley for questions. Instead he turned back to Louis. "Pardon me, but it didn't look or sound like you two were all that friendly."

Louis' creepy smile faltered for a second time. "Yes, well, it's been a long time. For your information, Ryerson and I go way back. I take it he never told you about us." Louis winked at Riley, a predatory look in his eyes.

Riley's stomach churned and he could feel Ben's questioning eyes boring a hole in his skull. He had to get out of there. He cleared his throat. "You know, Ben, I hate to break up this happy reunion, but I'm not feeling so good." It wasn't a lie. He was seriously close to vomiting up his hospital breakfast of gray slop.

"I must be going, anyway," Louis said, glaring sideways at Ben. "It was a pleasure to see you again, Ryerson." He advanced toward Riley who instinctively stepped back.

"I cannot say I feel the same," Riley said, coldly.

Louis gave him a venomous sneer before turning on his heel and walking out of the clothing department. A moment later, Ben's concerned face loomed into his line of vision.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, perfect. Why do you ask?" Riley hoped he was able to keep the shaking from his voice.

"You're pale as a ghost and you're shaking so bad, you look like you're going to keel over on me."

Riley shook his head. "I'm just tired. Are you finished here?"

"Yeah," Ben said, looking unconvinced as he tossed the garments into the cart. "Let's forget our road trip, today. You need to rest."

Riley shook his head. "No, we should continue on to West Warwick as planned. I can get some rest when we get back to the hotel tonight."

"I don't think-," Ben started.

Riley cut him off. "I don't care what you think, because it's not your decision to make!" he said, a bit louder than he intended. Several patrons stopped and stared at them. Riley lowered his voice. "I just want to get this over with. The sooner I do, the sooner I can go home. Please, can we just get out of here?"

Ben nodded, silently. The tense silence followed them to the checkout and eventually to the parking lot. When they reached Ben's white, rental sedan, Ben unlocked the car and motioned for Riley to get in, which he did. Ben loaded the bags in the trunk and, leaving the cart in the adjacent space, climbed into the driver's seat. He put the key in the ignition, but he didn't start the car.

Riley felt his friend's eyes on him. He braced himself, mentally, for the Benjamin Franklin Gates equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition.

"Tell me, who was that guy? How do you know him?"

Riley sighed. He guessed that the time for subtlety was over. Now, Ben was going to hit him with the direct questions when it was the worst possible time to do so. "Nobody, just some guy that worked as my father's grounds keeper a long time ago. I barely remember him."

"I saw your eyes. You were scared of him."

"You were imagining things."

"I need to know if this guy is someone we should worry about in our current situation."

Riley shook his head. "No, no, I don't think so. He didn't even work for my father that long. He certainly didn't have anything to gain from the estate." Please, Ben, just stop with the questions, already!

"What did he mean about you not telling me about the two of you? Were you," Ben seemed to stumble over the words, "involved at some point? I mean, I never figured you to be-."

"No, I'm not and we weren't!" Riley practically shouted. Breathing became difficult again and the nausea increased tenfold. How could Ben possibly go there? Oh yeah, the rational facet of his mind reasoned, you never told Ben about this little part of your life. "Seriously, if you keep this up, I'll vomit in your car and you'll lose your deposit."

"Then, what did he mean? If you weren't involved with him, what was it?"

"Ben, please, just drop it!" Riley yelled. "Christ, for once in your life, shut up and drop it! You don't need to know!"

Ben's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened a little at Riley's uncharacteristic outburst, but he didn't say any more on the matter. He regained his composure and started the car, driving slowly through the parking lot to the main road.

As they merged onto I-91, Riley felt like the tense stillness was choking him, but talking to Ben was not high on his list of most desired things to do. He would only continue to grill him about the scene in the store and he couldn't go there, ever. No, he just wanted to sweep it all back under the rug and focus his strength on finding answers to his current dilemma.

Yet, the old memories wouldn't let him have his way. They regaled his psyche with traumatizing images that were suddenly crystal clear. It was during times like this that he truly abhorred his excellent memory. Why couldn't he suffer from a stress-induced amnesia like a normal person?

Riley forced his brain to switch gears, but as the doubt immediately infiltrated his mind, he almost regretted that action. What would he find in West Warwick? Would he find a family or would he be rejected again? If he was rejected, how would he handle that? He felt the butterflies multiply in his stomach and his earlier threat of throwing up in the car seemed like it would become reality.

He swallowed thickly and he risked a glance at Ben. The shock was gone from his friend's face, replaced by something that resembled ire. Riley looked away. He hadn't meant to yell like he did. He hadn't angry, but fearful. Fearful that when Ben found out everything that had made him who he now was, that he would exit stage left, like everyone else. Then, he wouldn't belong anywhere, with anyone. Again.

And that was a concept that Riley couldn't risk coming to fruition.