IF YOU THINK THIS IS MEDICALLY FEASIBLE, I don't know is it?

Debby I'm scared.

"There were things Sal hated about the modern perspective of espionage. He remembered thinking it a thrilling life - why be the average Joe when you could just as easily be James Bond. Those movies had been nowhere close to reality. For one thing - James Bond had a lot of fancy toys to play with - be it women, gadgets or cars. Sal, on the other hand was not so lucky. The most technologically advanced gadget he had managed to get in his possession was a pair of IR goggles - not that it mattered. Sal had long lost interest in technology - for all the steps it was bringing things forward, it was taking three steps back. No, Sal preferred old school methods - exchanging messages in person at the decoded meeting spot, good old binoculars, lying low in cars. That was how he liked it - so much that he shunned carrying a phone. That, Sal was soon going to learn was his undoing.

Waiting in the dark, Sal's thoughts always rushed to James Bond as his exploits. He had been a diehard fan - so much as to make his initials read J.B, but Sal had soon learnt it was glitter and not gold. One of Sal's favorite thought trains was 'How was James Bond not fucking depressed with his life.' Another personal debate was that James could not have had possibly as many friends as he did. It wasn't possible.

Why was Sal waiting in the dark now? Sal needed the money - especially after being stuck in the hell that was jail for 5 years for forgery, he knew it was too soon to go back to old ways."


You're in the middle of your writing day-dream - toying around with Sal's character - bending it till it almost snapped. Writing wasn't something you had ever seen yourself doing. English teachers had always scoffed your assignments, claiming you did have a rather unusual writing structure. You never cared for their comments, today's no different. And this was strangely fun, putting characters in these impossible situations and trying to get them through it.

You don't write with any intention, just for the sake of whiling away the time. Besides all the crime scenes you've photographed over the past few months do give you rather exciting ideas. It's all fun and fantasy for you - and you don't get too frustrated, so there's that.

Completely lost in the dream, you get a call from Oliver.

Crime scene already?

"Oliver?"

"Hey - Peck. Little incident at the lab today so you're going to have to pick up Holly now."

You don't think too much into it, and without telling yourself to do anything, get up and get ready to head out.

"Anything wrong? "

"Acid burn. Your wife did something pretty similar to what you did - " he stops short, probably after realizing that you had no idea what he was talking about.

"It's okay, Oliver – I've heard about my incident with drain cleaner and the baby elephant."

"Ah - so yep - that about sums up your wife right now."


You're eyeing the hospital with a bit of unease. You can't deny it - this place creeps you out, plus it was easier for you to think that the hospital swallowed your memories. Holly's fast asleep, she clearly had a lower tolerance for drugs than you did. It's a shame - really. You would have enjoyed seeing your wife being a little less uptight that she normally was. Not that you blame her. You can imagine it's been pretty tough on Holly - dealing with you and circumstances.

You don't want to wake her up so you decide to wait a bit before you take her home. Holly's patient file is right there on the side table, and your curiosity gets the better of you as you take it in your hands and decide to read through it.

What you find, is something that unnerves you. Completely.


After driving a rather drowsy Holly home and tucking her safe in bed - you call up the one person you're sure would know about this. Traci. You rush to meet her, except the minute you do - you don't want to ask her about what you read. You're on the fence about this - one part of you is angered that you were kept in the dark about this. Another part of you wants to completely ignore it and live on in bliss – so to speak.

The saying should go Complete ignorance is bliss.

You're here - at the Penny surprisingly- not at all worried about the fact that you're surrounded by alcohol you can't drink. Right now - you want answers, yet you're hesitating. This internal war was torture.

You know what's going to happen anyway.

"Trace, what happened on the night of January 22, last year?"

Traci's immediately swallowing and gulping, and you can't ignore it now. Not now.

"Traci. " you urge, somewhere between anger and anguish.

"I think you should ask Holly when she's better, Gail." comes Traci's jittery reply. Never have you seen Traci stutter with words. You hit her back with your icy glare, and it was never this effective on Traci in the past.

"She hasn't told me so far, so I doubt she'll now." you bite back, angered that Traci's refusing to tell you now.

"Traci - all I know is that my wife had a miscarriage at 3 months." You blurt out in a demanding tone.

"That's the gist of it." Traci sighs, knowing she's lost.

"What happened?" you plead, rubbing your forehead with your fingers.

So, Traci recounts it all to you.


It had been a tiring day, a long, exhausting shift and you had been dying to get home and fall asleep on the bed. The minute you got home, you had called for Holly, and hearing no reply - had assumed she had fallen asleep as it was pretty late. After sinking into the couch and trying to stop your tired thoughts you had dozed off for maybe twenty minutes. After jerking awake and deciding to go upstairs to bed, seeing Holly eerily still in the blood stained sheets had shocked you to the core.

You had rushed your unconscious wife to the hospital as quickly as you could and the minute the doctors took her from you - you had sunk to the floor from sheer exhaustion, worry and guilt. You somehow managed to get ahold of Traci - and had blatantly refused to think at all till she arrived and managed to drag you up to a chair.

Soon enough, the doctors give you the news - and you're just listening to it all - doing your best to not curl into a ball and wish this was all just a dream.

The tumult of emotions that overcome you -the anger was the most obvious. And you could think of only one thing that you wanted to do.

"You want to go to the - ?"

"The batting cages."

Traci too had been surprised at that request - but seeing that you were begging to just get away from all this for an hour, had obliged. She somehow managed to talk the manager of the cages to open at 5 in the morning. And you started doing the most surprising thing ever.


"What was I doing at the batting cages?" you question. As far as you knew - you weren't exactly the athletic type, and baseball was definitely not something you ever played successfully.

"You were playing Gail. You were actually pretty good."

That throws you off. There was no way you could have played baseball - most certainly not pretty good.

"I don't do sports Traci - and you know that." you argue - not believing this at all.

"Well, you played that morning, and after silently venting all your anger on that - you fell to your knees and began to cry. "

You still aren't buying this story, it feels to surreal to have been true. And Traci can see that.

"You said that you had been practising baseball ever since you and Holly started trying. And that you wanted to teach the kid to play before Holly could so that you could both surprise her. "

Oh.


You're standing at the batting cages again - for the how-manieth time you aren't sure - but here you are. Testing a theory before you head back home to Holly.

"You ready?" Traci calls out from behind, ready to push the button.

You aren't sure at all, you seem to be clutching the bat in some fashion, your stance seems somewhat appropriate. Did I actually learn this?

"Yeah!" you call back, seeing there's only one way for you to find out.

Traci pushes the button and as the buzzer sounds, a ball does come whirring towards you. There's one this part of you that wants you to throw the bat and just give up. Except you somehow swing the bat and hit the ball out of back. The sound of the bat meeting the ball was the most surprising thing ever.

You"re too stunned to realize what just happened, you can see the bat's still intact in your hand and you actually hit a ball. You can't believe it. For the first time - it actually feels like the four years that you can't remember have had a rather profound impact on you.

Something you hadn't really been able to comprehend till now.