The dreams started up again in the early fall.
But now, instead of driving on an endless road and pulling over out of the rain, spotting a vestige of someone he felt he should know in the distant shadows, Sam would dream of blood and death and fear.
An unknown presence that would devour him whole if he couldn't cower and hide, try to evade.
He would wake, drenched in sweat, thinking he was covered in sticky, hot blood until Tess would grab his arm, shake his shoulder, talk him down from his night terrors.
Tonight was no different and when he bolted up in their bed, she was there, hushing his confused babbling, running her cool hands over his heated skin, speaking soothing words until he finally realized he was home with her.
"That's it, baby…calm down…deep breaths."
He nodded, trying to reign in his out of control emotions, trying to push back the images of destruction his brain had conjured up and he wondered again…what the hell had happened to him? Why was he like this? What had he done and seen in his past for his mind to completely shut down and refuse to remember?
And he was scared.
Obviously something horrible had happened to him.
All these months later, appointment after appointment, finding no real physical reason for his amnesia, he started seeing a psychologist, who was sure that Sam was repressing something, but he and the doctor where unable to unearth any actual memories from his disjointed nightmares.
"You want a drink," Tess asked and he nodded, because his throat was utterly dry and he couldn't even work up enough spit to answer her in words.
He felt the bed shift and heard her feet padding across the bedroom to the adjoining bath. He kept a glass there, and most nights Tess would go and get him a drink.
When she returned, perching on the edge of the bed, he took the glass from her in his trembling hands and managed to get a sip in to his parched mouth. She kept rubbing his back, his arm, until the glass was drained and he handed it back to her.
She sat the glass aside and crawled over him, pressing him back into his pillows. "That was a bad one, babe…want to talk about it?"
Her face hovered over his, her lips mere inches from his own and he could feel her soft and curvy body pressing down the length of his.
She kept stroking his arms, his chest, encouraging him to speak, but he shook his head, the fiery images already fading.
"Just the same…vague whatever…" and it was frustrating trying to explain the fear and certainty that something evil lurked within him, but he couldn't ever see what had dogged him through his nightmares.
Sometimes he would see a woman, burning on a ceiling and sometimes it would be a movie monster, a vampire or zombie, but mostly he couldn't make sense of what his brain was trying to tell him.
"Lets think happier thoughts then," she said, leaning in to brush her lips over his, her hand skittering down his chest, tweaking a nipple on the way down to swirl around his belly button.
He relaxed into the pillow, the last of his dream fading as she grabbed him, squeezing his length.
The first time they…well not the first time, because he knew they had had sex, made love before, he just couldn't remember what it had felt like and Tess was gentle with him, let him rediscover what he liked and what he didn't. Let him explore her body, finding all those spots that turned her on all over again.
They spent the next little bit of time just touching and kissing, pressing their bodies close and Sam craved the closeness, the physical pleasure, sure, but the emotional closeness even more.
Later, she rolled them over and he slipped inside of her, pressing his pelvis forward, going deeper and gently rubbing at that spot, movements slow but firm and he loved to hear the noises of pleasure that fell from her lips.
He didn't know how long they stayed like that, only that she had raised her legs and wrapped them around him, pulling him in deeper still, the press and movement more frantic until they both found their release.
When he pulled out, she followed him over, kissing his chest, running her fingers through his messy hair. "I love you, babe…it'll get better."
And he prayed she was right.
He must have drifted off to sleep, because when he next opened his eyes, the sun was streaming in the windows and Tess was gone.
He rolled out of bed, went to the bathroom to use the toilet and brush his teeth, comb his hair.
He found Tess in the kitchen, putting cookie batter onto a cookie sheet. "Hey, you're awake…want some coffee, something to eat?"
He sank into the chair at the kitchen table, yawning and she laughed, moving in for a quick peck to his cheek. "Coffee it is," and she poured him a cup and sat it in front of him. He sipped as he watched her puttering around the kitchen, scrambling him eggs even though the clock over the counter told him it was well past noon.
"I picked up our costumes, I'm Watson, you're Sherlock." she told him, putting bread into the toaster. "Lanna said to be there by five…but the real party won't start until after dark."
He had a sudden flash of Tess dressed as a naughty nurse, but he pushed it aside, because he always had those niggling feelings, like maybe he had done whatever it was before and the truth was, he probably had. They had been together for years and he guessed that some past Halloween, she had dressed that way.
Later, when they left the house, the air was cool and crisp and it hit him all over again that this was his first autumn, the first time he had seen the leaves change color and fall, his first time raking them into piles and he and Tess jumping in them like a bunch of first graders.
The party was fun, he had made new friends and reacquainted himself with old ones and he didn't feel so alone anymore.
His life was still strange, weird, but also a little exciting too.
He and Tess would go out with Lanna and her new boyfriend, or in a group. Tess liked to cook and Sam found that he wasn't too shabby when it came to making dinner either.
Later, right before Thanksgiving, Tess had decided it would be a great idea to host dinner.
Sam wasn't so sure.
They had had couples over before, but this wasn't as simple as boiling some pasta and opening a jar of pre-made sauce.
Lanna and Zack were the first to arrive, and Tess had put them to work, peeling potatoes. They all sat at the kitchen table, talking and laughing and Sam was a little shocked to discover that he could chop carrots and celery like a professional chef, the knife help firmly in his hand, the chopping motion sounding like machine gun fire.
"Whoa there, babe…we don't want finger tips in the stuffing."
But he was so impressed with his new found skill; he chopped the whole bag, the feel of the knife familiar in his hand.
Bread stuffing done and in the oven, he took in a deep breath, smelling the turkey baking and basting in the stove.
The whole house was full of enticing aromas, turkey and pumpkin spice and sweet potato casserole. Sam wanted to add marshmallows, because he had seen a picture in a magazine, but Tess shot down that idea. "That's just gross, Sam," and then her face softened and she said, "Take my word for it."
So he did, because he trusted her.
Lanna's mom and honorary mom to them all showed up a little later, ready to rescue the dinner if she needed to. "Sam…what's that smell?" she wrinkled her nose and that's when Sam smelt something burning.
He rushed to the stove and pulled open the door, a blast of heat hitting him in the face. He couldn't tell at first what the problem was, but then he saw the pan of stuffing smoking.
He grabbed a pot holder and pulled out the dish, Tess using a dish towel to fan away the smoke.
"Well, not to worry…I can whip up another batch, dear…" and she took over, shooing them all out of the kitchen.
Football played on the TV in the living room and they all settled in to watch. Sam didn't have a team, at least he didn't now, so it didn't matter to him what the outcome was and Zack had patiently explained the rules to him so he could follow the action on the screen.
Soon Ms. Stills was calling them to set the table, so Sam and Tess went to the hutch and pulled out real plates, instead of the paper ones they usually used. They all gathered around as the turkey was carried in and placed at Sam's end of the table.
Tess and Lanna brought out the side dishes and a few bottles of wine and Sam was handed the knife and fork. He had no idea if he had ever carved meat and unlike some past events, he had no vague memory of doing it before.
He took his time, slowly carving slices from the breast and popping and cutting through the bones of the legs and thighs, putting the savory meat on a platter that Tess held for him.
They passed the dishes family style and soon they were all eating and talking, and Sam felt…well, he felt good.
Later, winter was closing in and the trees around his house lost all their foliage. Right before Christmas, the first snow of the season fell and he and Tess rushed out the back door, running across the deck and into the back yard.
Tiny flecks of snow and ice dotted Sam's skin and he turned his face upward. Tess giggled near by, her mouth open and her tongue sticking out. "Try it," she told him, so he did.
Snow was new too and he decided he really liked it and said so out loud.
"Sure," Tess said, grabbing his arm and snuggling close, "We all love it until it's too deep and you have to shovel the walk way and dig out your car."
San thought he might like that…he liked mowing the lawn and Tess thought that was nuts too.
"Hot chocolate?" she asked and he nodded, racing her into the house, hoping the snow wouldn't stop, because he wanted to see what it would be like to make snow angels and fling a snowball at Tess.
They spent the rest of the day drinking tea and hot chocolate, watching Christmas specials on TV.
"Rudolph…" he said, snuggling up to Tess on their sofa. "Let's watch that one."
After a few more Christmas cartoons, Sam went to his office and grabbed one of his cameras. Tess nodded as he headed out the back door and into several inches of snow blanketed yard. He snapped shots of anything that caught his attention, white laden trees, fence posts, and their freshly plowed street.
The back door opened and he look to see Tess standing, her arms wrapped around her body, but she held a ruler in her hand.
He took it from her and pitched it into the deepest mound of white he could find, snapping a picture.
It was already almost four inches deep.
She left him after saying, "don't be too long, babe," and then the door slid shut behind her.
He wandered around a little bit, thinking about the other photos he had taken of the changing seasons, so he could have some comparison pictures.
But after about an hour he was too cold to stay. Tess had a hot plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes waiting for him when he finally came in, kicking snow from the tread of his boots before stepping into the kitchen. He shucked his coat and took the warm mug Tess passed him.
"Have fun," she asked, reaching up, standing on her toes to kiss his cold lips. She backed away fast, but not fast enough, because he grabbed her up and rubbed his freezing nose on her bare arm, listening to her shriek.
"Knock it off, Sam…" she squirmed until she got away and Sam let her. Truth was he was wet and freezing. "Go change, eat dinner and then we'll snuggle." And her eyebrows did that little wiggle thing that he couldn't resist, so he went to their room and peeled off his clothes, finding sweats and a tee, fuzzy socks that Tess had gotten him when the weather turned cold and then went to the kitchen.
Dinner was great, but dessert was even better.
Christmas was a quiet affair. They had gotten up early and opened presents from each other.
Sam got Tess an engraved necklace, her name and the words, S and T forever on the back. He also picked her up and new, semi-sexy nightgown, anything was better then her ratty tee and shorts she usually wore and overly fuzzy slippers, because her feet were always so cold.
She opened her gifts, reaching over to kiss him. "I love it…thanks, Sam." And he couldn't help the goofy grin that split his face…he was ridiculously pleased that she liked what he had gotten her, since she wouldn't tell him what she wanted.
"Your turn, babe," and she handed him two, neatly wrapped presents, the paper red and green, matching bows and he wondered if she had wrapped them herself or if she had cheated like he had, having the sales people do it for him.
He ripped into the first box, enjoying the sounds and smell of the paper before tossing it onto the floor and she laughed at him. He found a new camera, one he had been talking about, the one Zack had recommended after Sam's last job, taking photos for a couple at their outdoor wedding.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, but she told him, "Open the next one."
So he ripped into the paper again, the box was carved from some kind of wood, intricate symbols tooled into the lid and he looked at her, wanting to ask her what the symbols meant.
"Go on," she encouraged, so he lifted the lid to see a beautiful dream catcher.
"It's supposed to promote peaceful sleep…" she trailed off, unsure and Sam appreciated her thoughtfulness.
He ran his fingers over the delicately weaved threads and feathers. "It's beautiful…thank you."
She relaxed then, and he kissed her again. "Did you get this at that little shop in town…the one with all the Indian stuff?"
She nodded, taking the dream catcher and pulling him up from the floor. Their tree lights twinkled and the fresh smell of pine followed them through the house and into their bedroom. Tess hung his gift up on a nail she must have already hammered in and that's when Sam saw she had brought one of her gifts with her too.
They fell into bed together, kissing and touching; each excited to try the new nighty and then maybe later, the dream catcher too.
Winter finally gave way to spring and Sam had a good time taking pictures, journaling his impressions of his new life.
His work had been sporadic, but it would pick up now that the weather was warming and everything around him...the flowers and trees...the wild life all had seemed to be awakening from a long sleep.
Not long after returning home from the hospital, over ten months now, Lanna had found some bank statements and it became clear that Sam really didn't need to work. He didn't know if he had made his own money or if maybe he had inherited his parent's estate, but in the end, it really didn't matter.
He was free to work when he wanted and when he didn't, he could do that too.
Tess usually worked from home, but from time to time she would drive into the city, travel out of town when she needed, but Sam preferred to stay around his little town.
The area was beautiful and he could always find unique places to snap photos and he had been trying to draw and paint more now.
The canvas in front of him was awash in blacks and browns and Sam wasn't sure what he had been trying to paint, but whatever it was it was dark and disturbing.
Putting the brush down, he wiped his hands on an old dish towel and stepped away from his work. It seemed just about every time he tried to conjure up a friendly field, or a peaceful meadow, he would end up with streaky black blobs, ominous figures, and frightening images.
He took the canvas down and stacked it on top of the others, not wanting to think too hard about what was lurking in his thoughts if they expressed themselves in nightmares and dark paintings.
He glanced at his watch.
He had a little over and hour before he was meeting Tess at Crabby Dicks for lunch. She had promised he was going to love Maryland blue crab and he was excited to try them.
He cleaned up pretty quickly, changing into jeans and polo, finding his flip flops. Old Blue fired right up and he found he made it to the restaurant with almost thirty minutes to spare, so he decided to wander Main Street.
He walked passed some antique shops, but stopped into the place that sold Native American blankets and hand carved items, but he didn't see anything like what Tess had gotten him this past Christmas. The older lady behind the counter looked up when he came in and then she stared for a beat or two. He smiled, but that didn't seem to calm her and he watched a little dumbfounded as she skittered around the counter and into a back room, speaking in a language Sam couldn't understand, slamming the door between them, but the intent was clear…Get Out!
He left, not understanding why she seemed…scared of him.
He roamed down the walk, finding himself in front of a gypsy store front and he went inside.
A woman sat at a table, candles burning and she seemed to be speaking to herself, but after a second or two she looked up. "Come in, come in…"
A little spark of…fear niggled at his brain, but he slid into the chair across from her and presented his hand when she reached toward him.
She ran old and crooked fingers across his palm then looked up startled. "This can't be," she said, running cool fingers over his hand again. "Not possible."
"What?" he asked, pulling his hand from her grasp. "What did you see?"
She looked him in the eyes then, question and awe and fear flashing across her withered and wrinkled features. "nothing…I saw nothing."
He pushed back at her words, the old chair toppling to the ground. He didn't know why, but he had to go…somewhere…anywhere but here.
He turned and nearly ran from the store front, kept running until he found himself at the other end of town, a few blocks over from the restaurant he was meeting Tess at. He slowed his pace, taking in a deep breath or two, feeling his heartbeat slow.
He felt silly now that he was away from the creepy old woman.
The restaurant came into sight, so he went in, diverting to the restroom to wash his hands, put some cool water on his heated face.
The place was pretty crowded, but Tess had called ahead, so the hostess showed him to their table.
He asked for a glass of water and when the waitress returned with it, she sat a basket of warm bread on the table too. "I'm waiting for someone," he told her, but I know what we want…two orders of your steamed crab special."
She asked if he wanted fries or corn on the cob, and since he didn't know what Tess might want, he got one of each.
Tess would be there any minute, but while he waited, he munched on a yeast roll, feeling a little self-conscious, like maybe someone was watching him.
He glanced around the tables, taking in the people, but no one seemed to be looking his way, so he went back to his bread. "Chill out, man…" he told himself, but his encounter with the woman in the shop and then the fortune teller was unsettling and he wished Tess would just get here already.
And as if he had conjured her up, she appeared, slipping into the chair across from him. She reached over, using her fingers to wipe something from his lips, a soft smile on her face and Sam could feel himself relax until someone had shouted, "Jess?" across the restaurant.
Tess' eyes grew bigger and then she rolled them, "crap," she murmured and when Sam turned to look, he saw a guy in jeans and flannel, and then another came into view, a tan trench coat on, even though they had seemed to have been eating and when Sam's eyes traveled up, he saw who the man was.
"Doctor Morgan?"
The other man advanced on them and Sam tensed, deciding if he should run or be ready to fight, but he wasn't prepared for the hug he got from this stranger.
"Sam…oh god, Sammy…it's really you."