Author's Notes: From this Chapter onwards, Rebecca becomes the joint efforts of Acalanto and JOYS of October with Acalanto doing the great writing stuff and JOYS doing the editing. The first few chapters are canon up to Season 2 and then we diverge from that night at the ball when Rachel was shot. From there, this is AU, but true and pure Scotch. Happy 2020, everyone! Starting the 2nd decade of the millennium.
Chapter 9 - Second Impressions
"So, is it really true? It's her? Is she okay? Did she come with you?"
"Yes, for all the questions, wife. You can imagine the Admiral's happiness, Kara."
"He loves Rachel, Danny. Happy is such an insignificant word for what he must be feeling now. Maybe now they might have a chance."
"Things are not so simple, she does not remember anything, and she prefers to be called Rebecca."
"Poor Admiral."
"She may have no recollection of who she is, she did not react when she saw us, but they argued like old times."
"Did you see them arguing? Wow! I wish I had seen that. Rachel is a force to be reckoned with. Do you remember their discussions when we were on the ship? I think the Captain had never encountered an adversary like her."
"We heard them yelling at each other. I confess the sound was comforting. She's in there somewhere and I think the Admiral is what's going to bring her back to us."
SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH
"Look, I'm not going to pretend I know what you're feeling because I do not know. But I can assure you that we will all do our best to make you feel good here, and if you still want to go back to Jake and Elena's house, I'll personally take you back."
"Was it not you who said that it was not safe for me to stay there? That my presence would put my friends at risk?"
"I know what I said, but if it is necessary to leave a whole battalion to protect you there, I will do it."
"I'm not important, Admiral."
"Yes, you are."
You're the woman I love, but you're not ready to hear that yet.
She swallowed hard, because she saw something in his eyes, an emotion, a fire dancing on the background of the blue iris, as if he wanted to say something, but it was so fleeting that she thought she's imagining things.
"Come on, there are some people who are eager to see you. Do not worry, it's not the whole crew. Now, I think the most important thing is for the doctors to examine you."
"I'm fine, Admiral."
"Why am I not surprised for you say that?" he muttered to himself.
She accompanied him to one of the halls of the complex and found four men waiting; everyone looked pleasantly surprised and even shocked to see her. She should get used to this behavior. When they arrived, she saw the shock, surprise and joy in people's faces. They just did not approach because the look they received from their commander made them stop.
"This is Mike Slattery, my second in command, Master Chief, Dr. Rios and Dr. Milowsky."
"Hi, I'm Rebecca," she felt the need to assert her identity. She is Rebecca and not that Dr. Rachel Scott that everyone desperately wants her to be.
Everyone said hello, three of them calling her Dr. Scott. She had the distinct impression that they were still recovering from seeing in front of them, a person they thought was dead.
"It's good to meet you Rebecca. Sorry for our shock and our reaction to seeing you. We are all happy to know that you're okay. You can call me Jeter."
She doesn't know why, but felt immediately at ease with Jeter, maybe it's his calm and reassuring voice, his gentle expression, or maybe it was the ease he said her name. "Are you the diplomat here, Jeter?" She asked and gave him a sincere smile.
"No, Tom is the team's diplomat, Master Chief here is some kind of advisor on the ship. I have no problem calling you Rebecca; if that's what you want Doctor," Mike explained.
"Admiral Chandler is a diplomat on which planet? He seemed to enjoy giving orders and expects everyone to obey," she countered with one of her eyebrows arched.
Tom opened his mouth to defend himself, but Jeter was faster.
"I can assure you that Thomas Chandler is one of the kindest and most honorable men I know. Only exceptional circumstances would make him act differently. He becomes a bit intense when he needs to protect someone he cares."
He has inspired nothing but loyalty in the men under his command, she realized. It was a point in his favor.
Mike looks at Tom with an amused smile curving his lips; it seems his friend did not make a good first impression.
"Right. Where would you like to start, gentlemen?" She asks, talking to the doctors. "You probably want to do some tests to find out the reasons for my amnesia. I think I need to go to a hospital."
"Yes, we would like to do some tests, if you agree, of course. But we don't have to go to a hospital. We have everything we need here."
"Let's do it, Dr. Rios, the faster we do these tests, the faster you will realize that there is nothing wrong with me. Sirs," she said and left the room accompanied by the two doctors.
"Stop looking at me like that, Mike. It is not funny." Tom told Mike as his eyes followed Rachel walking with the doctors.
"The woman comes back from the dead and you have already managed to irritate her. Where is your charming personality?" Mike teased him.
"She may not remember anything, but she certainly remembers how to be stubborn." He smiled fondly at the memory of their earlier argument.
"What happened, sir?" Jeter asked.
"I needed to persuade her to come back. Leaving her there was not an option. I may have been very hard on her." Stay here and condemn your friends to death. No matter that this is true, it still seems brutal and cruel somehow. "One moment we were talking, the next she wanted to tear my head off."
"So, you made a lousy first impression." Mike said.
"That's an understatement..." Tom sounded frustrated. "I should be happy, and I am, but I'm scared to have found her, only to lose her again."
"First impressions are important, but they are not everything, sir. The man that you are can be shown through your actions. Be honest and she will react to that."
Tom closed his eyes, rubbing hard at his temples. Why does everything have to be so complicated? During the last weeks of the mission, their relationship, if it could be called that, had grown. Then Niels happened. And if he thought it could not get any worse, the kidnapping and her death showed how much he was wrong. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them. So much pain unresolved. With Rachel, it had always been one-step forward and three steps back.
"Let's make practical decisions first. Who is she going to live with?" Mike asked.
"With me, of course," Tom replied automatically.
"'I don't think that's wise, sir." Jeter disagreed.
"Why not?" Tom's voice suddenly has a hard edge.
"Your house has only four bedrooms. Where was she going to sleep? And more importantly, your emotions are very close to the surface."
Tom sighed as he acknowledged the truth in Jeter's statement. When it comes to Rachel, he feels lost, out of control. As a result, his emotions take over and logic flies out the window. His mind is still stunned to find her alive, his eyes say she's real, but he's still afraid that it's just a dream. He just wants his Rachel back. But one wrong move can ruin everything.
"You're right, I should have thought of that before."
"Your emotional response is normal, you are in love with her, wanting to stay close is an automatic response, sir."
"How about Kara and Danny?" Mike suggested.
"They are newlyweds, practically on their honeymoon, waiting for the arrival of a baby. I do not know if it's a good idea." Tom replied.
"Tex?" Mike knew what this suggestion was going to do and did not have to wait too long.
"Are you kidding me, Mike? Rachel's living with Tex over my dead body." Tom declared strongly with a frown.
"No matter who the chosen one will be, we are all strangers to her. We must first ask what she wants. We must give her a minimum of control over her own life."
"Again, you're right Jeter."
"And if she chooses Tex?" Mike provoked. After weeks seeing his friend steeped in sadness, it was great to be able to tease Tom about Rachel, a very alive Rachel.
Tom snorted. "Mike, don't you have work to do?"
"This is my tip to get out. Let's go, Master Chief, I think Tom has everything under control here."
When she returned some hours later she only found the Admiral waiting. All her examinations had been normal, that must have been good news, but she felt frustrated, because it was not a physical reason that prevented her from remembering her past. It was her own mind that refused to reveal her secrets. What dark secrets are hiding in her subconscious? What is she so afraid to remember? What was Tom's role in all this?
She looked thoughtful and, a little tense.
"I owe you an apology, Rebecca." Tom said bluntly. "I feel like I may have been a bit overbearing when we met."
"A bit? You waited for me to obey your commands, Captain. I'm not one of your soldiers."
In the last hours nobody had called him Captain. On the night of her disappearance, the President had informed him of the change of rank. So her memories were bound to his old rank. During the first weeks on the ship she always called him Captain. It was a small thing, but this gave him hope.
Rebecca noticed the Admiral looking at her, a strange expression etched on his face.
"What?"
"Nothing, it's just that you…" He interrupted in what he was about to say by a knock on the door.
"Come in," he said.
"Sir," a young man entered the room and offered a brief salute. He looked at her in wonder, but looked away quickly when the Admiral called his name.
"Mason!"
"I'm sorry, Sir. Everything is ready, they're already waiting." He added for Rebecca,
It's really good to see you again, ma'am."
"Thank you," she responds.
"I thought you'd like to talk to Jake and Elena. And then we can have dinner with my father and my children, it's getting late and you did not eat anything. What do you think?" Tom asked.
Relief flowed through her.
Her face lit up, the first genuine smile since she had arrived.
"Sounds good, thanks."
Her acceptance unfurls something in his chest. One step forward.
She was taken to another room where there was a radio and then they left her alone.
"What is wrong? What did they do to you?" she heard Jake's worried voice ask.
"Nothing's wrong. Really, I'm fine. I just needed to hear your voice, it was a long day," she said, not wanting to worry her friends, but Elena noticed the anguish in her voice.
"Talk to me Rebecca, what's troubling you?"
"Maybe I'm a little nervous. I do not know if I can be that person that everyone wants me to be. I do not feel like Rachel Scott, to be honest I think it would have been better if they had never found me. I feel pressured by their expectations."
"You don't have to change for anyone, be it yourself. They like you; they'll wait when you're ready."
"You have us; you will always be welcome here," Jake said trying to reassure her. The dog barked in the background as if agreeing with the owner.
"Thank you my friends. I needed to hear this." She needed to talk to them because they are her friends, she trusts them and, mainly, because they knew her a Rebecca, they could not compare her to Rachel and it reassured her.
SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH
He opened the car door for her, while she slid into the passenger seat, and buckled her seat belt; he walked around the car and sat in the driver's seat. He put on his own seat belt, then turned and looked at her. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll probably ever be."
They made the short trip to his house in silence; she kept her eyes focused on what was happening outside the car. Protected by the dark glass of the car, she observed the people who seemed to be resuming their lives after the pandemic. A young couple exchanging a passionate kiss, a man painting the facade of a building, kids playing in a playground, a mother trying to calm a crying baby, an elderly couple holding hands. The look of adoration on the man's face as he looked at his wife was impossible not to see.
Who would they be? What is their story? Did they have children? Grandchildren? Are they alive? What had the epidemic taken from them? What had they faced together to get this far?
He took his eyes off the road and looked at the silent woman sitting next to him. He saw a sad smile curled her lips and wondered what caused it.
She turned to face him and said, "The press knows that Dr. Scott… I mean, I'm back?"
He pretended not to notice her slip. "We have managed to keep this information a secret, but unfortunately, it is not something we can do for long. Do not worry about it; you do not need to talk to them now. There'll be an official press release tomorrow."
He stopped at a checkpoint where two armed soldiers saluted and allowed their entry. Then they entered a tree-lined street.
"We are here," he said as the car stopped in front of a house. The house was one-story, beautifully landscaped, white, with a front porch with two chairs and a swing.
They got out of the car, and together they climbed the porch steps, then stepped forward to open the front door for her.
When they entered the house, she saw a man with gray hair and blue eyes, who resembled the admiral and two kids, a girl of ten or eleven, and a little boy of seven years old. They smiled when they saw her.
"Rebecca, this is my dad Jed and my kids Ashley and Sam."
"Nice to meet you all and thank you for inviting me over for dinner."
Jed reached out to shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Rebecca. You are most welcome."
"You're the woman that the Dad thought was lost."
"Sam!" Ashley said, chiding him.
"What? Was she not lost? But Grandpa said—"
"Samuel!" Tom says the name of his son and gave him a warning look.
She barely suppressed a smile. Sam's curiosity was natural; he was just a child. Children have a natural tendency to say what they think.
Sam touched her arm and confided conspiratorially. "Dad said my whole name; I think I'm in trouble. We've met before, but we should all pretend not, because…"
Tom groaned, but said nothing.
Sam shot his father a look. "Oh! I shouldn't have said that, it was a secret. Sorry, Rebecca, can you forgive me?"
She bent down to the child's level.
"There is nothing to forgive, I understand your curiosity. For the people here I was really lost."
"I'm glad that you've been found."
"Thanks." She stroked her thumb against the boy's cheek. "I'm sorry for not remembering you."
"It's all right," he said, and gave her a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, my name is Samuel Thomas Chandler, but I'd rather be called Sam," holding out his hand.
Her heart melted. His behavior is charming because it is natural and sincere.
"It's very nice to meet you too," she replied, shaking his hand. "You're so adorable!"
A bright smile spread over his face. "I know."
Tom and Jed laughed. Ashley just rolled her eyes.
She straightened her posture and asked, "Can I keep him?"
"You were going to beg to return him the next day." Ashley said.
Tom smiled again. His son managed to enchant Rachel; she seems to have liked his father. It seems she has a hard time resisting the charm of the Chandler men.
"Dad is very happy with your return, Grandpa said—"
"Sam," Jed cuts him off. "You do not have to tell all the conversations you heard here."
"Oh!" Sam's eyes widened. "Sorry, Grandpa."
"He can't help being a blabbermouth." Ashley said.
Sam stuck his tongue out at his sister.
"Sam, Ashley; behave yourself."
"I did nothing, Dad."
"Yes you did, you called me a blabbermouth."
"Children!" His tone took on a decidedly sharper note.
They replied, in a humble and contrite voice; "I'm sorry, dad!"
"Dinner is ready," Jed said. "So why don't we all sit down?"
Jed sat at the head of the table as Tom pulled out a chair for Rachel to sit. Then he walked around the table and sat facing her, next to his daughter and Sam sat next to her facing his sister.
She didn't realize how hungry she was until she took her first bite. She closed her eyes briefly as she chewed a piece of meat, a delicious filet mignon with herb butter and mushroom sauce. Simply divine!
She found him watching her as she opened her eyes, and she blushed a bit. A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Unconsciously, she bit down on her lip and he groaned internally, thinking how he wanted to kiss those lips. She looked down at her plate.
She avoided looking at Tom but could feel him watching her.
Her hands weren't very steady when she sliced the meat into small pieces, but she managed to carry the food to her mouth without spilling anything.
For him, this is an exquisite form of torture. So close and yet so far.
Jed had been watching, narrow-eyed, all this. Tom was practically drooling over Rachel. She looked slightly flushed when their eyes met. Then she lowered her eyes demurely to her plate, as if the steak was the most fascinating thing in the world. Interesting.
Tom took a long sip of his wine, not taking his eyes off her. Then he felt his father's eyes on him.
Jed gave him a minuscule shake of his head.
Tom sighed lightly. It's gonna be a long, long night.
After waiting a moment, she risked a glance in his direction and realized that he seemed completely focused on his food.
She took a sip of wine, watching him over the rim of her glass.
"Dad, since we have one guest, could we stay at home tomorrow to help Grandpa?" Sam asked hopefully.
"Good try, buddy! But you're going to school tomorrow. Your grandfather does not need help."
"Okay," Sam said with an expression that belied his words.
God! Sam was a lovely little thing, she thought as her fingers traced the rim of her wine glass.
Their eyes met again, she lifted her chin up in slight defiance and didn't look away.
An enigmatic smile formed on Tom's mouth.
How he would like to take up the challenge, but he knew it was too soon.
He was the first to look away.
"Dad looks at you in a funny way. I think he likes you, Rebecca." Sam said innocently.
Upon hearing this, the piece of meat he was chewing descended the wrong way, causing him to have a near death experience while choking on his food. Ashley patted his back a few times, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. He coughs and food finds its way to his stomach, making him take relieved breaths.
"I'm okay," he rasped, wishing he sounded it. "It just went down the wrong pipe."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Tom raised the glass up to his lips and started drinking slowly. His throat was sore after choking on food.
"So you like her?" Sam insists.
He smiled as he set the glass down on the table, begging God that he could survive dinner.
"Of course Dad likes her, silly! She saved his life."
"Your sister is right, Sam, she saved my life. But I'm also her friend, although she does not remember it now. Yes, I like her." Tom replied, all the while keeping his eyes on Rachel's face.
He was probably talking about the vaccine, she thought.
"Rebecca, tell me about your friends, Jake and Elena." Jed asked politely.
She smiled gratefully at him and told about her friends, about their kindness, that Elena was a nurse and Jake was a retired military. That she liked to ride a horse and walking the dog, a Labrador.
On hearing the words dog and horse, the children became quite enthusiastic, asking several questions, which she answered patiently.
"Dad? Can I have a dog too, please?" Sam asked.
"We already talked about this. A puppy is a big responsibility."
"I can help Sam, Dad," Ashley added.
"Every boy and girl should have a dog. That teaches discipline and responsibility, Tom." Jed said.
"Attack on three fronts. I need an ally here, Rebecca."
"Surrender seems to be the most appropriate scenario in this situation, Admiral."
"I see…. Okay," he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But you're going to have to take care of the food, the bath and the dirt..."
Before he finished speaking, two very happy and enthusiastic children practically jumped from their chairs to give their father kisses and hugs.
Jed and Rebecca exchanged amused glances.
She cannot deny that seeing him interact with his children made her wonder if she had been a little too hasty in judging him. He is very sweet with them.
"Children, I need help with dessert." Jed said.
"They are lovely. You must be very proud of them." She said while looking into his eyes for a second. His once impeccable hair was a mess and his uniform all wrinkled, but he did not seem to care.
"Yes, I am very proud of them, but I must admit that my wife, Darien, did most of the work."
"Wow! We have chocolate cake. We should have a guest every day." Sam said as he returned with Ashley and Jed to the table.
"He's a smart kid."
Tom snorted. "He is."
"This looks delicious! You're a fantastic cook, Jed," she said as she sank her fork into her cake.
"You can call me Jed, Rebecca. I would like to say that I was responsible for preparing the meal, but Bacon was responsible, not me."
"Bacon?" she asked, after savoring the first piece of cake.
"The man responsible for cooking on the ship," Tom explained. "Although my Dad is a good cook, he does not have the same competence as Bacon in this matter."
"At least I never had to use a fire extinguisher in the kitchen." Jed said.
The children laughed, clearly having fun at his expense.
"Hey, you two are supposed to be on my side and not to ally with your grandfather against me."
"What happened?" Rachel asked curiously.
Tom replied, sounding a little bit embarrassed. "My wife liked banana flambé topped with ice cream. I wanted to surprise her. It just went spectacularly wrong. Nobody lets me forget."
"So you don't know how to cook?"
"No, "the children and the Jed said together.
"My son may have many skills, but cooking is definitely not one of them."
He looked at his father, "Thanks, Dad. Good to know that I have your support." Then he turned his full attention back to her. "Do not believe them, I'm not so bad."
No, you are not.
"Son, while the kids help me clean the kitchen…"
The children protested, but a look from their grandfather and the offer of another piece of cake silenced them.
"Why don't you and Rebecca retire to the porch? The night is beautiful and the temperature is more pleasant outside."
Subtle, Dad, really subtle.
"I think it's a good idea, Mr. Chandler, I mean, Jed," she said. For the last few hours, she'd thought hard and decided she needed to know what had happened to her. Admiral Chandler seemed to be the right person to give her some answers.
"You do?" Tom asked, surprised.
"I really need to talk to you. I have some questions. But if you have something important to do, I—"
"No," Tom replied quickly. Then he added, his voice calm and controlled. "I'm not busy."
"There's still wine left in the bottle. Maybe you…"
Tom managed not to send his father a warning stare.
"I already drank enough for today, Dad."
"Me too."
He needed to get her out of here, before his father had other funny ideas.
"We can go if you're ready,'' he said
"I'm ready."
His chair scraped along the polished wooden floor as he stood up and came around to her side of the table.
"Thank you so much for the delicious dinner, Jed," she said, getting up from the chair.
"It was a pleasure, my dear," Jed said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it!"
She smiled at the children and followed Tom out to the front porch.
Mr. Chandler is right, she admitted as she sat on the swing in the porch. The night was beautiful, the stars shining in the firmament, and the breeze rustling the trees.
He sits down in a chair in front of her. In fact, now that she was looking closely, he seemed… nervous, almost. Why? She had so many questions for him, but unable to determine where she wanted to begin. Who am I? Who are you, Thomas Chandler? What relationship do I have with you, anyway? Why do I feel butterflies in my stomach whenever I'm near you?
He was looking at her with his eyebrows raised questioningly. Then she realized that she has been staring at him for a few minutes.
"Do you wear uniform all the time?" she asked.
"I usually take off when I take a shower."
The images so unexpectedly conjured up by his words was disturbing, in a way that the butterflies in her stomach stirred.
Wait—that came out wrong, even if it is true. What the hell? The question had been so unexpected that he answered without thinking. She already thinks you're a control freak and now she must think you're an idiot. Thomas Chandler, think before you speak, he scolded himself.
"Really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
Even in the dim light of the porch, she noticed that he was blushing, which she found unexpectedly charming.
"That come out wrong…sorry, what I meant was… you know..." He sputtered and fumbled between his words
"Oh, believe me; I know exactly what you meant." She could tell he was definitely blushing now. A spontaneous laugh escaped her lips when she saw his discomfort.
He ran a hand through his silver hair in a self-conscious gesture and smiled at her.
"I did not know that military types like you can blush like a maiden."
"It's hot here," he said defensively while pullin on his collar.
"Actually, the temperature is very pleasant. Just admit that you blushed," she insisted.
"I would not admit something like this even under torture. I've got a reputation to uphold."
"Of course you have." She smiled at him. For a moment their eyes locked. She was the first to look away.
She let her eyes wander down the street before she allowed herself to look at him again.
"Who lives in the other houses?"
"Members of Nathan James' crew…"
"I know them; I mean I knew them before."
"Yes, you've lived with us all for months. During the mission, you became one of us. They are very happy with your return."
"What if I never remember who I am?" There was a note of desperation in her voice.
"You will."
"Are you always so confident?"
"In my field of work I need to be and it helps a lot when I have data that corroborate my certainties. Doctors said there are no physical reasons for your amnesia."
"Yeah, I know. But the mind is harder to heal than the body. Although we mapped the various functions of the human brain, in many areas it remains a mystery. "
"See, you're talking like a scientist that you are. The information is inside of you; just find the right keys to access them."
His eyes hold so much hope in them that her heart tightens. Since she found them, they have told her that she did a job she should be proud of, that she is a strong woman, that it is only a matter of time before she regains her memory, but if she does not feel strong, she feels tired, insecure, frightened because her job had been what bound her to them. There is no connection or recognition. The attraction she feels for him does not count. She is human and he is an attractive man. If she can never be that woman again? Would she be able to bond with those she once called friends? How could she have forgotten this friendship? And why?
Suddenly, she realized that she must be lost in her own thoughts for some time, again, because he was looking at her with obvious concern.
"I don't remember who I am, but I'm not blind. I see how you look at me."
"And how do I look at you?"
He watched her with this soft yet intense look, there is this mixture of affection and longing. He wants her back, at least who she used to be.
"I'm not the one you lost, and maybe it never could be."
He exhaled slowly.
"When you disappeared, " he said and paused for a few seconds as if searching for the right words. "Not all the prayers in the world would bring you back. No enemies we destroyed satiated my desire for…justice. I wondered what I could have done to make the outcome of that day different, so that you would be safe. I tried to convince myself that you were no longer suffering, that no one else could hurt you. Nothing worked. And over time I had to accept the fact if you had gone forever. But here you are, alive and I am…"
Guilt can be a good motivator, she thought.
"Relieved?"
"Happy. I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable." Then an agonized look crossed his face. "After your death, I always dreamed of your body on fire and you screaming for help. For weeks, your screams have haunted me. They still haunt me. I need to make sure that you're real and not a fragment of my imagination."
"Jesus!" she exclaimed. "What exactly happened to me?" She needed information that would allow her to assemble a piece of the puzzle that was the life of Dr. Rachel Scott.
"You were kidnapped on the day of the president's inauguration. When we realized what had happened, a rescue mission was organized to find you. There was a chase, the car the kidnappers were, and a woman we thought to be you, flipped and then caught fire.
"That's why you have these nightmares, seeing someone die burned is a horrible experience."
"I was not there, I had been injured on a previous mission and there was a piece of shrapnel inside my body. The doctors had to operate me. I just knew what had happened five days later."
"Do you feel guilty about what happened?" It was more a statement than a question.
"I'm guilty. It was my job to make sure you were safe and I failed this mission."
"I believe it was not your fault what happened to me."
"Everyone tells me the same thing, maybe when hell freezes, I'll believe it."
"You just said that you were hurt when I was kidnapped."
"Because I was too stubborn to listen to your medical recommendations."
Rachel's brow was knit together in confusion. "Doctor? I thought I was just a scientist on your ship?"
"When I told you that you saved my life, I was not just referring to the vaccine. When I was injured in a blast, it was you who did the surgery but a piece of shrapnel remained inside my body. There were many shards and one was hidden behind my liver. You insisted that I should be operated again, but I refused. And when you needed me, I was helpless to help."
"Wait, Dr. Rios is the doctor who works on your ship, right?" He nodded. "Why didn't he do the surgery? You're their commander."
"There were many who were injured that day, the doctors had their hands full. You are skilled with a scalpel. They knew my life could not be in better hands."
"How could they know that?"
"Contrary to my orders, that you should not leave the ship, you have volunteered to help one of my soldiers. Then you had already saved Cruz's life in the middle of a gunfight."
All this new information was making Rachel's head swim.
He was not a strategist for nothing. He knew when to retreat. "Too much, huh?"
"Yeah," she said, "It's disconcerting to hear you talk about…me; it's like listening to a tale, full of adventure and twists about a stranger. I confess that in the last hours I thought how good it would be if you had never found me, but…"
"I'll take you back, right now if you want."
"There's no way back, even if I wanted to. As I was saying before being interrupted…."
He visibly relaxed
"Sorry."
"Even though the memories of who I am are lost, pretending that nothing happened will not work. Although it is difficult, what I need are answers. Why did those people want to hurt me?"
"They consider themselves chosen by God, because they are naturally immune to the Red Flu." He said with contempt. "For them, when you created a cure for the disease, you interfered in the natural order of things."
"They're stupid," she said. "It is not natural to let someone suffer or die in a slow and agonizing manner if there is a chance of treatment."
"Unfortunately, fanatics have their own logic, Rebecca."
In the weeks that she had stayed at Jake and Elena's house, she wondered what had motivated the attack. Why people wanted to hurt her? Sometimes she wondered if she had done something wrong. And finding out that a bunch of fanatics wanted to see her dead, it was scary. Because fanatics are known for not giving up on their targets. "They tried to kill me," she stated flatly. "And they'll try again."
They will be dead before they get close to you again and this time it will not be that fast.
Something dark and dangerous emerged through his features. She swallowed hard, and a shiver ran down her spine. She was looking into the eyes of a predator, brutal and unforgiving. A sudden realization jolted her: this man would kill to protect her.
He watched her eyes go wide as if she could hear his dark thoughts.
The last thing he wanted to do was scare her.
He took a deep breath releasing the air slowly.
His eyes softened, and his voice was low and comforting as he spoke. "There's practically an army between you and any fool enough to try to hurt you. You are one of us and we always take care of family."
She was silent for a time, comforted by the certainty that was secure between them, but at the same time overwhelmed by the importance, she has for them.
"It's been several weeks and I do not remember anything related to my old life ..." then the dream, with the faceless man and the maze comes to mind.
"What?"
"It's nothing. It's just…," she started hesitantly. Sometimes I dream of a maze and someone I feel I know locked in it. I thought it was you. No, she could not tell him that. "I try so hard, but I cannot remember anything or anyone." The frustration in her voice was evident.
He reached out and took hold of her hands and said, "Maybe that's your problem. Maybe you're trying too hard. Let things happen naturally."
She felt his hand over hers, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. She pulled her hand away so fast she could have been burnt.
He watched her retract, distancing herself from him.
"Are you okay?"
Stupid question, he rebuked himself
"No," she admitted, "I'm tired and my head hurts."
"What you need is a good night's sleep." He suggested. "The day was very intense for you."
"Where do I sleep?"
"Today you can sleep here; tomorrow we can discuss your other options."
"No."
"No?" he asked confused. "Why don't you want to sleep here?"
"What I want to say is that I prefer to discuss my options now."
"Ah! Okay… well, you've met some of us, anyone at the base would be happy to host you. I can introduce you to the other crew members tomorrow."
"I do not remember any of you, I prefer to live alone."
"Look, you're safe here, but I'd be better off if you were not alone. Unfortunately, the Immunes are still a threat. Choose one of us, please, if you do not like the experience, we'll do it your way."
The arguments seemed very reasonable. She thought of those she had met today, one of them certainly was off her list of options, the man who sat in front of her and waited for her decision with some apprehension. It would make no difference to meet other crew members the next day, everyone is a stranger to her.
"I choose Jeter. Now I think I'll go to bed. You're right, it's been a long day." She said as she got up and started to walk back towards the front door.
"Rebecca?"
"Yes?" She turned around and met his gaze. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looked at her in that soft, intense way that she was beginning to get used to.
"I'm very happy to have you back," he finally said. "You, not just Dr. Rachel Scott, the scientist, but the friend I thought I'd lost."
"I—I...thank you," she murmured, her throat aching with unshed tears and then she ran off.
SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH
"What the hell was that, Dad?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jed responded, handing him the pillow so he can finish making his makeshift bed.
"Why don't you and Rebecca retire to the porch? The night is beautiful and the temperature is more pleasant outside." Tom said, doing a decent job of imitating his father's voice. "Ah! And let's not forget the final touch, the wine. She's lost her memory, but she's not stupid."
"You heard her, she wanted to talk to you. As the gentleman that I am, I just helped a beautiful woman get what she wanted."
Tom laughed softly. As if she needed help getting what she wanted. He had knelt at her feet, for God's sake.
He sank down onto the couch and his father settled into a chair in front of him.
Suddenly Tom's expression grew serious. His brow furrowed. "Tell me I'm not dreaming. She is really here. Rachel is here. Alive."
"You're not dreaming, she's sleeping in your room right now. And you should do the same; you have to take the kids to school tomorrow."
"I need to talk to Sam."
"It's a little late for that, don't you think?"
"Am I so transparent?"
"When you look at her, I don't know, let me think for a minute, son."
"Dad, not exactly helping. She seems to have noticed too, and asked me about it."
"What did you say?"
"That I was happy to have a friend back."
"You did well. Take your time. Let her process her emotions and thoughts. Then, move forward… slowly!"
"That from a man who suggested we should talk under the stars."
"This was just a father trying to help his son. Just… try to keep your hands away from her."
"Dad, I'm not sixteen anymore."
"You're in love, which makes you want to stay close, touch, kiss," Then a dreamy smile slid across Jed's features. "When your mother and I met, I could barely keep my hands off her."
''Ugh…I didn't need to know that."
Jed rolled his eyes
"I watched her over dinner; it seems she liked what she saw."
"Huh?"
"She seems to have liked watching you interact with the kids. You're a good father, Tom, women value that. And you made her laugh."
Tom groaned. "I said something stupid." Then he buried his head under his pillow.
"This might have been good."
"I don't know how," Tom said, taking the pillow off his face
"This makes you more human, more accessible, less… intimidating…"
"Dad, I very much doubt that anyone can intimidate her. I was certainly never able to do that."
Something in his son's voice made him suspicious.
"So you tried?"
"When I discovered the truth about the plague, I may have been quite… aggressive."
"But she did not back down."
"No. On that day, she had almost been killed, which would make anyone shaken. I was screaming at her, complaining that she had put my mission at risk, my crew, threatening to throw her samples into the sea. Her face was flushed, probably because she ran for her life. And the way she said: my mission, Captain, with her head held high and looking straight into my eyes, I could not believe the woman's audacity…"
"You like it about her: her fiery spirit."
"Yeah."
"I know you're desperate to get her back, but remember, the woman here is not Rachel, now she's called Rebecca, although it does not seem to be, she is scared and very vulnerable at the moment. Be careful."
"I will. I would never do anything to hurt her. She'd probably kick my butt if I tried."
Forget the grown man, in Jed's heart, his son's smile reminded him of the child he rocked to sleep, the child who looked at him as if he had all the answers in the world.
"Dad?"
Jed blinked, and the man came into focus. Feeling blessed to have approached his son again; he smiled and answered his question.
"Everyone here knows that you did not make a good first impression."
"Don't remind me."
"During dinner she saw not only the father that you are, but also glimpses of the husband you were. A man capable of trying to cook to please your wife. What woman would not like that?"
"I didn't plan it," he says, sounding very defensive.
"I know, "Jed said. "That's why it worked."
"Second impressions," Tom said with a big smile on his face.
No better thing for a father than seeing a smile on his son's face. That happiness that overflows and goes beyond the eyes, when the whole body speaks, I am happy and I want everyone to know that.
When he opened his mouth to say something to his father, what came out was an enormous yawn.
Jed laughed
"Go to sleep," Jed commanded, but his voice was soft. "Tomorrow she'll still be here, and you'll have your second chance."
"Night, Dad." He said, while looking for a more comfortable position on the sofa.
"Night, son."
SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH
Hours later she lay on her bed, restless, unable to sleep. Frustrated, she threw off the covers and stood up. Carefully she opened the door to her room, barefoot and silent she went across the corridor, her path lit by a lamp lit in the hallway.
She stopped in her tracks when she saw him sleeping on the couch, clad in T-shirt and shorts; he was lying on his side, looking deeply asleep. He had one arm under his pillow and the other extended out over the covers.
Sleeping like a baby, he looked different, relaxed almost vulnerable. Well, as vulnerable as a tiger could be. Inexorably drawn to him, she stepped closer, and crouched beside him. He muttered something that she couldn't hear and moved in sleep, sighing softly.
What was it about this man that drew her? Perhaps because he is different from others, something in him seemed almost… familiar. Get away from him, her mind is practically screaming at her, but her feet did not seem to get the message. Then she unconsciously reached a hand out to him and…
In the last few months the dreams with her had most of the time been filled with anguish, seeing her die in the most painful way, or her calling for help, but he could never reach her.
Today the dream was different. They are on the deck of the ship, the breeze fluttering her hair, a serene and satisfied smile curving her lips, "You found me, Tom".
They are a few steps from each other. But he could not move, afraid to touch her. Afraid that if he did she would disappear.
"Come here,"' she said, holding her hand out to him.
"Wow, you look great!"
She was looking stunning in a black long dress, and silk black shoes with stiletto heels, a slit along one side of the dress gave him a tantalizing glimpse of a shapely leg.
"But you never wore a dress on the ship," he said closing the distance between them. "And I'm sure not a dress like that because I would remember."
"This is your dream, Tom," she said with obvious amusement. "You always wondered how this dress would look on me."
Tom looked at Rachel with a confused frown. Then he remembered where he saw that dress before.
"The dress that you were going to wear on the day of the party."
"Yeah, but you made some changes." she said as she put her hands on his chest. "You really have a fertile imagination."
He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. "A man can always dream."
"Some dreams can come true,"she said, brushed her lips against his as she spoke. Then she moved her mouth to his ear and whispered. "Wake up and you'll find out, soldier, but don't open your eyes."
He moaned in frustration as she pulled away, a smile on her lips.
"Rachel," he groaned again as the woman in his arms began to disappear.
He was waking up and did not want it.
Still trapped between dream and reality, he felt soft fingers gliding over his face with kindness and a certain hesitation. Warm, real, tangible. She is here; his mind finally accepts the sweet truth.
He could feel his heart racing, the blood pounding in his temple. With titanic effort, he kept his eyes closed, but his lips betrayed him as he released an unconscious sigh beneath her touch.
She froze and held her breath, waiting for him to wake up at any moment, but it did not happen, he stirred a little but did not open his eyes. Then he shifted once more, only to roll on his stomach, hugging the pillow as he snored softly.
"Thank God!" she whispered, sounding relieved and amused at the same time, and then she walked away, back across the hall to her room.
Inside the safety of her room, she wondered why she had done it. She wondered if with loss of memory, she lost something else. Her sanity, perhaps.
Crawling back into bed, she buried her face in his pillow and groaned with shame. I just need to forget. She almost laughed at the irony of the situation. To forget is what had put her in this mess in the first place.
SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH
Lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, a silly grin on his face, he could still feel the soft touch of her fingers on his face. The woman he loves, she may have another name now, his name has disappeared from her memory, but his Rachel was in there somewhere.
Already partially asleep, his lips whisper a few words.
She dreams of the labyrinth, but this time she can enter, as soon as she takes the first step in, the branches interlock effectively closing the entrance, preventing her from going back. She just has an alternative; move on. Then she heard a baritone voice call out. The voice was warm, rich, and… familiar.
Find me.
Hate it? Love it? Leave a word.
