Unforgotten

AN - An extra early chapter for you all as I'm so excited by this chapter! I hope you all are too, thank you again to the wonderful reviewers that keep me motivated.

Disclaimer - I do not own Thunderbirds

Chapter Twenty Three - Remembrance

Remembrance. Noun. 1 - the action of remembering something.

Angelique Dubois and Annie Doe shared more than just initials. They shared a sardonic sense of humour, an inability to suffer fools gladly and a rather dark sense of humour. They both spent a lot of time working out, didn't have many friends but those they did have were incredibly close. They also were incredibly organised and had a meticulous attention to details, important regardless of whether your career was as a hospital receptionist or a professional thief.

They also, incidentally, shared a body and a mind.

Unfortunately, that was where the similarities ended.

Angelique was distrusting where Annie trusted easily. Annie was open, friendly and likeable while Angelique was closed, reserved and generally disagreeable. She also had a predilection for kleptomania that Annie would definitely not approve of. Sadly for Annie, while her emotions and experiences were imprinted on their memory from the two years she had been in charge of the body, Angelique had over twenty years on her.

Angel now lay on the floor, a tear running down her cheek as memory after memory slammed into her. Her mother's death. Beatings when she wasn't quite quick or deft enough. Words winding around her psyche – bitter, twisted words setting her against the world and telling her to trust in no one and nothing. The feeling of loss and loneliness so acute but she didn't know anything else.

Amnesia is a funny thing. Total removal of memory such as Angel had suffered is rare. Admittedly, she had retained some very early memories, memories that she had otherwise thought long forgotten of her together with her mother and father in happier times. But she couldn't remember her name. In all of her memories she was called many pet names, but never her actual name.

More recently, she had begun to remember a bit of her life after her mother had left her. She still didn't learn her name, as she was most often called tiger cub by those who raised her. She had memories of being trained in several disciplined including martial arts, but she only saw glimpses - her muscles didn't remember and she couldn't have performed the moves if she had tried.

Now though it was different. Ethan Grey had grabbed her face, pulled her eyes up to meet his - and she remembered. Everything. All the pain, all the sadness, everything that drove her forwards and onward. The hostages, Ethan's face beneath her hands, the statue, the darkness of the water closing over her.

It had been more than she could take.

Angel wasn't sure how long had passed since then. She was lying on the floor, a coverlet over her. She could feel a form pressed up against her back, which she assumed must be Tintin. A shaft of light was dancing across the floor and hit her face, signalling that it must now be morning. Angel reached up to her face and brushed away the tears that lay there, being very careful not to wake up Tintin yet.

She didn't know what to do. She wasn't in her normal physical shape, her reactions were dulled and her head was still hurting. The day before she had been punched and she could feel the ache from the forming bruise on top of the physical pain she was experiencing from the memories returning. She would not be able to get herself out of this situation easily.

Angel also couldn't leave Tintin behind. The other girl had become a close friend. Even if Annie didn't exist anymore her memories, emotions and feelings were still a part of Angel. It was confusing and disorientating but Angel couldn't do much to process it at the moment.

She bolted upright when she heard the door to the room beginning to open. Behind her, Tintin stirred and sat up warily. It wasn't Ethan that entered but one of the people he had working for him, the woman that Angel recognised as posing as one of the married couple on the plane the day before. Was it only the day before? She couldn't tell at the moment, all sense of time had deserted her.

"Breakfast," the woman said curtly, leaving a tray on the floor. "Get up and dressed, Ethan wants you downstairs in half an hour." She left as quickly as she had come.

Angel was about to go and retrieve the food when she felt arms around her. "Annie! I'm so please you are ok!" Tintin sobbed. "I was so worried about you!"

Angel patted her back gently. "It's OK, I'm OK. I think it was just the shock of everything, I'm sorry to have scared you."

The smile she received from Tintin was watery but genuine. Angel gestured to the tray. "We should get ready. We don't want to give him any reason to hurt us." Angel went to stand up but Tintin waved her back down again.

"No, you stay there for a moment." Tintin grabbed the tray and brought it back to the rug. Both girls sat with their backs against the headboard, eating the simple fare. It was a lot better than nothing though and Angel couldn't taste anything strange about it which may suggest it was drugged.

They quickly got ready, not having any supplies or clean clothes it didn't take them long. Soon after they finished they heard the bolts being slide back in the door again and a man ushered them out. He didn't appear to be armed, but not knowing where they were or what potential escape avenues there were Angel felt she had no choice but to follow.

Her head still throbbed, a low level pain that was dulling her senses and her reactions. The pair were shown into the lounge Angel could just about remember from the night before, where a familiar figure awaited them.

"Ladies!" Ethan called upon seeing them. "Welcome, welcome. I trust that you found your accommodation to your liking?"

Tintin maintained a stony silence while Angel watched warily. Ethan was sat on one of the faded sofas, but there were others in the room. Two men and a woman, if Angel was counting correctly as she tried to scan without it being obvious. They were stood around the edges watching on. Angel and Tintin were hopelessly outnumbered and even if they could fight their way out of here, which Angel doubted given that she wasn't capable of much right now and Tintin didn't have a violent bone in her, there was no telling how many others may be in the building.

"Come come, don't be shy." Ethan patted the sofa cushion next to him. "I have so been looking forward to a little chat with you Tintin - do you mind if I call you Tintin? Miss Kyrano seems very formal, given the circumstances."

Alarm bells were beginning to ring in Angel's mind. Ethan Grey had always been fairly confident bordering on arrogant, expecting to be able to arrange everything to his satisfaction, but there was something different in his tone now. Something that was beginning to edge towards madness. And madness was unpredictable, which in their current circumstance was extremely dangerous.

Tintin still hesitated, which is when Angel felt hands grab her arms roughly, twisting them behind her and causing her to cry in pain. It was the woman, who now had Angel pinned by the arms expertly.

"Let her go, please!" Tintin cried, about to step towards Angel. As she did so, one of Angel's arms was twisted up higher behind her back at an unnatural angle.

"Now now Tintin, if you're a good girl she won't get hurt. Now how about coming to sit with me, hm?" Again Ethan patted the seat. With one last glance at Angel, Tintin complied. She daintily sat next to him, as far away on the sofa as she could. "Isn't this more civilised?" Ethan hummed, pouring a cup of tea from a pot on the small coffee table. "Would you like some?"

"No, thank you." Tintin replied, keeping an eye on Angel to see if her rejection would cause her friend to be hurt again. But Ethan must have been feeling magnanimous. "Well, tea isn't for everyone. Now, I want to talk to you about the Tracy family and International Rescue."

Tintin's back stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."

Ethan chuckled. "Now my dear, don't be coy. I had a lovely chat with the blond one once you know, I know all about your little organisation."

"Then why do you need me?" Tintin blurted out, sending another quick glance to Angel. Angel kept her face impassive, even without her memories she'd had a pretty good idea that the Tracy family were the public face of the secretive organisation. With her memories back, everything she had been told and learnt over the years now slotted into place.

"Oh but I don't want to know about the organisation." Ethan replied, sipping his tea delicately. "I want to know about the family. Let's start with the eldest son, shall we? I want to know everything about Scott Tracy."

"Scott?" Tintin asked, surprised. "But you tortured him, surely you don't need to know anything else?"

Ethan's voice became a higher pitch. "Torture? Whatever gives you that impression? No, I didn't torture him. If anything, he tortured me. You see, he stole something from me, something I was really very attached to. I want it back. So I need to know about him. What he likes, what he doesn't like. What would hurt him, as badly as he hurt me when he stole my kitten away." This was accompanied by a giggle, cementing Angel's earlier impression of his state of mind. The meaning behind his words was not lost on her, luckily he didn't recognise Annie as her former identity and Angel had always been very careful not to reveal her true name or face when on a job.

"I...I really don't understand!" Tintin cried, trying to get off the sofa and away from him. One of Ethan's hands shot out and grasped her arm, holding her tightly in position. "I don't know what you mean, I can't help you. Please, you're hurting me."

One of Ethan's men knocked on the door. "What?" Ethan barked at them.

"There's some sort of commotion going on out front, boss."

"Well go and check it out, idiot. Don't disturb me for little things like that. Take a couple of people and go and see what's going on."

The man left. Ethan reclined back on the sofa, still holding tight to Tintin and pulling her with him. "You see, I simply can't get the staff here, my dear. A commotion indeed, it will just be that dratted missionary back who was pestering us last night."

Tintin remained silent, causing Ethan to sigh loudly. "This would be far more fun for both of us if you actually spoke to me. It's terribly boring to talk to oneself. Now, perhaps you can tell me more about the Tracy family? The public reports are disappointingly scant on details."

When Tintin still didn't respond Ethan flicked his hand towards Angel and she felt her arm being twisted even higher. She couldn't quite contain the gasp of pain.

"Please don't hurt her! I don't know what you want to know, Scott is a very private person and I don't know much about him." Tintin was lying through her teeth, but she couldn't give anything else away.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you live with the man and yet know nothing about him?" Ethan was clearly beginning to lose patience, but at that moment the door slammed open and a woman ran in. In the distance, Angel could hear noise that sounded like gunfire and shouting.

"You need to come and see this!"

"Didn't I tell you I was not to be disturbed?" Ethan asked cooling, standing up and glaring at the woman.

"But it's one of them Thunderbird machines - it's firing at the house!"

Tintin caught Angel's eye, face lit up with hope.

Ethan hissed. "International Rescue! It's impossible, how could they have found us...unless..."

Angel's expression became alarmed at the demeanour of the man. His face twisted, as he regarded Tintin. The momentary hope in Tintin's expression fled as she looked into the eyes of the man she now thought was completely deranged.

Ethan stalked up to where Tintin was sat on the sofa, grasping her arm and twisting it cruelly. "How did you communicate with them? How did you tell them how to find us? Tell me!"

"I didn't!" Tintin cried, cowering away. "I haven't said anything, I swear."

"You swear," Ethan snarled. "How meaningless. You will tell me, maybe my friends can loosen your lips."

The two men came forwards cracking their knuckles. Tintin tried to free herself from Ethan's grip. "No please, I promise I know nothing!"

Ethan just nodded at his men, who didn't approach Tintin but instead moved to Angel. The first blow caught her in her stomach, but she used the momentum to slam into the woman still holding her, knocking her backwards into the wall. Watching the woman crumple, Angel could tell she had lost consciousness. With a shout one of the men came swinging wildly towards her. She ducked the first two punches but the third caught her a glancing blow to the side of the head, causing her to see stars. Trying to clear her vision, she missed the tackle from the second man that sent her crashing to the ground. As she fell she was fairly aware of shouting coming from outside the room.

Once down and with too many against her, Angel could only try to block to the best of her ability, curling up as small as she could and bracing her arms in front of her to stop the feet that were kicking at her face. She was successful, but she couldn't ward all of them at once and could feel the pain as boots connected with her torso and legs. One lucky shot got past her defences and sent her head spinning. In desperation she rolled, trying to get a moment's respite but the heavy boots followed her. In the distance she could hear screams, likely coming from Tintin. She looked upwards and saw the leer of one of the men, raising his booted foot up ready to strike. She closed her eyes, waiting for the blow that would seal her fate.

But the blow never came. Angel lay gasping on the floor, unable to do anything than try to regain her breath. She was dimly aware of a body hitting the ground near her but she couldn't summon the energy to figure out what was happening. She focused on trying to keep awake, aware that there was still danger present.

But then strong arms picked her up, cradling her against a familiar blue uniform. She thought she could hear a voice talking to her, but her ears were still ringing after the beating she had taken and she couldn't work out what the words were. She had been fighting unconsciousness for so long but she tried to hold on for just a little longer as she was pressed against a firm chest.

Angel looked up at the face above her, jaw set in anger but blue eyes gazing with so much concern. With her remaining strength, she gently reached out and cupped his face. "Scott," she breathed, seeing his eyes widen as they held her gaze.

Then, knowing that she was now safe, she let oblivion take her.