Chapter 7

It had been a short conversation on the phone, but it was enough to cause worry.

"I just heard from back east. There was someone at the house in Maryland."

"Who? NCIS?"

"No one they recognized, but clearly someone official. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Might as well have had fed tattooed on his forehead."

"They've started looking for him again."

"Or they're being more obvious about it now. I doubt we ever stopped them completely. You know what that means?"

"It means they don't have him."

"No sign of any bodies after the storm three weeks ago, and we would have heard something by now. So...he's still here?"

"But why? If he was able to, why wouldn't he contact NCIS and get help?"

"Maybe he can't."

"Why not, though?"

"We know he went into the river. Maybe he was seriously injured."

"Haven't seen anything on the news. We know he didn't have ID with him when he got away."

"If he was in the hospital..."

"I don't know. But if he's still alive, and able to talk, that risks everything we've been planning. The reason we were never found was because we were willing to take the time to plan. We've planned everything."

"Except his escape."

"And look where not planning has got us. This has been three years in the making. I'm not losing everything because of one man. We need the information he wouldn't give us, but we might be able to get by without it. If he tells anyone what we want, everything has been wasted."

"So...we have to find him. We have to know where he is and what he's said."

"Exactly. Call them back. Get at least two to come out."

"What about NCIS? If they've started investigating again..."

"It's been almost seven months. I don't see what they'll find now that they didn't find then. We can keep our eye on this new guy, but I don't want to start tailing the NCIS people again. We're going to take our time to fix this problem. No rushing. First, we search the river, see if we can find any sign of him where he might not have been seen. If so, and he's dead, we leave him there. If not, we'll check the hospitals."

"And then?"

"Then...he has to be somewhere. We'll find him."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Are you ready for this, John?" Kelly asked with a smile.

"I don't know. I don't think I'm going to be much help here. I just don't know what to do."

John looked worried as they walked together to the hay.

"It doesn't take smarts. All that we have to do is move the hay bales. The cattle need to eat. Our elevation is too high for the grass to be growing much yet. We've only barely stopped freezing overnight. In a couple of weeks, we can put them out to pasture and be done with this part until the winter again."

John did a mock flex.

"I'm not sure I'm going to be any help."

"Just try it and, if you can't lift the bales right now, I'll do the bales and you can cut the twine and spread the hay out for them."

"Great. Showed up by a girl."

Kelly laughed.

"Showed up by a farm girl. That's a very different story."

"Okay. If you say so."

"I do."

Kelly handed him leather gloves. John pulled them on and followed her to the hay. Kelly demonstrated how to heft the bales and lug them to the corral. John tried. He really did, but whatever muscle he might have had was long gone. It was clearly embarrassing for him, but Kelly just put him to work clipping the twine and spreading the hay out so that the cattle could get to it more easily. Then, she had him fill the troughs with water. It wasn't easy work, even if it was simple. When they were done, John was breathing heavily.

"You do this every day?"

"When the cows can't feed themselves, someone has to feed them. They never stop needing to eat."

"I guess so."

After a few seconds, the shadow returned to John's eyes. Kelly was getting used to seeing it. It never left for very long. John hadn't remembered anything else, but he did know that there was something awful in his past. Plus, although they'd reassured him that they were happy to have them there, Jeff's accusation of the possible danger of doing that had not gone away. He had stopped asking them if it was okay that he was there, but it was clear that he hadn't forgotten the shock.

"It's all right, John."

"I don't know if it is."

"You can't know everything, but right now, you can know that you're safe and that you're welcome here."

"Thanks." John took a breath "So...what's next?"

"Work. That's always what's next," Kelly said.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

John worked with Kelly basically all day, stopping only when she suggested they take a break. It was hard work. It was dirty work. John ended up with blisters on his hands which were declared to be good. They'd help his palms get callouses, Stephen said. John wasn't exactly happy with that himself, but he didn't complain. Jeff hadn't really said anything to him over the last couple of days, but John knew he was still being watched...by Jeff, if no one else.

When the sun set, for the first time, John was ready to sleep before everyone else. He ate dinner and then went to the bedroom. He barely stayed alert long enough to change into sweats before he fell onto the bed and slept.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

There was darkness, not just darkness. Black. All around him. He was walking on something solid, but he could see nothing. He just kept walking. At first, there was no destination, but then, he heard a voice. It was calling a name, but he couldn't hear what it was. He knew it was his name, though, and so he started to run toward it.

He ran and ran through the darkness, the voice getting louder but still not intelligible.

Then, there was a flash of light.

With that flash came pain. Intense agony that consumed him. He stumbled and fell to the solid darkness beneath his feet. He tried to get up, but there was another flash. More pain.

The voice faded.

He cried for the voice to help him, but there was nothing. No people. No help.

Only the pain with each flash of light.

He was drenched in water and when the pain came, it cascaded over his entire body and he screamed for help. Pleading for someone, anyone to stop the pain.

He forgot about the voice. He just wanted the pain to stop. He would do anything to make the pain stop.

Another flash of light and he shrieked, his arms stretched up above his head. He was hanging from something and screaming for mercy, mercy that didn't exist because there was no one there to give it or take it away. Only pain.

"John! Wake up, John!"

Another flash of light blinded him. The pain surged through him from head to toe. There was no way to stop the pain, no way to escape it. He couldn't even die, although he wanted to.

"John!"

He was shaking, something was shaking him. He couldn't get away.

"John, please. Wake up."

The black began to get fuzzy and gray. There was light. Not flashes, just light from some source.

"John."

The shaking wasn't causing him pain. He blinked.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring at Stephen, breathing heavily. The light was on, and Stephen wasn't the only one in the room. Except for Paul, the whole Hoopes family was there.

"You awake now?" Stephen asked.

John nodded, feeling relieved that he could do so. He didn't think he could trust his voice at the moment.

"What was it?"

"A...dream..." John whispered. "A dream. I hope it was a dream. I don't want it to be real."

"Let's get you completely awake."

John nodded vaguely. He wasn't really aware of his surroundings.

"You can put your arms down."

"What?"

John looked up and realized that his hands were over his head. Then, he noticed that he wasn't in his bed. He was in the bathroom, but not the one downstairs. This must be the bathroom upstairs. There was a shower. That's where he was. In the bathtub. He was relieved to note that he'd kept his clothes on...and he hadn't turned on the water, in spite of his dream of being wet.

He lowered his arms, noticing that they were shaking.

"I'm sorry I woke you all up," he said, adding embarrassment to his emotions.

"Ready to get out of the tub?"

"Yeah. I think so." John started to get up, but he was still shaking. "Maybe I'll just sit here for a few more minutes. You don't have to stay...unless you need the bathroom."

"How about we just help you get someplace more comfortable than the ceramic tub?" Stephen suggested.

"Okay."

"Jeff, help me get him up."

John was surprised when Jeff did so without hesitating. He wanted to get up on his own, but he was feeling so shaky that he wasn't sure he could. He let them help him up and support him out of the bathroom. Marilyn and Kelly hadn't said a word so far as he knew, but he was too bothered by what he'd dreamed to try and figure that out. Instead, he leaned on Stephen and they went downstairs to the living room. By the time they got to the bottom of the stairs, John was feeling like he could walk on his own. He straightened a little and Stephen let him walk to the couch himself.

"It's three in the morning," he said, noticing the grandfather clock. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about that," Stephen said.

"But I keep doing this to you. I just..."

"You haven't done it every night, and we're okay with it. Let us decide what's too much and what isn't."

"Okay."

John realized that no one had come downstairs with them. Instead, he and Stephen were alone in the living room. It made sense, he supposed. Why would they want to stay up after being so rudely awakened?

"Now, tell me what you dreamed."

John didn't want to do that. He didn't want to express what he had experienced in that horrific nightmare in words. The dream had been bad enough.

"It was just a dream."

"Maybe. Maybe not. None of us are shrinks. We don't know how to fix your problems. We're just giving you a place to stay. But maybe talking about what your mind is trying to tell you will help."

"I guess it's worth a try. I didn't really see much. It was all black around me. I was just walking." John took a breath. "Then, I heard someone calling my name."

"What was it?"

"I don't know. I couldn't tell. But I knew it was my name they were calling. I tried to get to the voice, but then...there were...flashes of light, and..." He felt himself started to tense up as he remembered. "...and every flash...I felt...pain. There was water pouring over me, and every flash, pain. I was begging for help, for mercy, but there was no one there. Just me, just the pain. That was all. The voice was gone, and all I had was the pain." He felt the tears in his eyes and wiped them away before they could fall and embarrass himself even further.

"We heard you."

"Yeah. I don't want it to be real."

"Well, some parts of it probably aren't."

"The worst parts probably are."

"You think so?"

John nodded. "The pain is real. And that feeling I had."

"What feeling?"

"Being alone with the pain. No one there." John looked at Stephen and then away. "Whoever I am...no one cared enough to...to search for me. I'm not missing. I'm nobody. I kept calling for help and no one was there." His throat was tight and he swallowed quickly. "Whoever I am, I'm not important enough to be kept from that. What's the point in remembering who it is that didn't care?"

"I don't think you should look at it like that."

"How else can I? Why wouldn't anyone be looking for me?"

"I don't know," Stephen said. "But I do know that if you can't remember what happened and can't remember who you are, then, you shouldn't assume that no one cares until you have proof."

"Part of me doesn't want to remember," John confessed. "What happened was so bad that I forgot it. What little I remember is terrible. Maybe it's worth giving up the rest of it so I don't have to know what gave me these scars."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I can't answer that."

"I can't, either."

"The one thing is, John...you're remembering. It's not much and it's not everything. It's not even the parts you probably want to know, but you are remembering something, and that means you'll probably remember more...whether you want to or not."

"Yeah."

"So, let it happen. Don't resist it. The bad stuff has to end eventually, even if you have to go through that before you get to the good stuff."

John sighed.

"And we'll be right behind you for as long as you need us."

"Thanks."

Stephen went up to bed, but John stayed awake for a while longer. Thinking about his nightmare and about Stephen's suggestion. He didn't know how to do that.