Chapter 12 - Another Accident

Author's Notes: Hello to our fellow Scotch lovers who are in lockdown or self-quarantine or homestay! We hope all of you are keeping safe in your own homes. After a busy week at work from home, here is another update for all of you. Acalanto has basically written this story until the end, just short of 1 epilogue and believe you me, this is one great story. That is the reason why I agreed to edit for her to have this reposted. Enjoy & stay safe! Don't go ahead of the virus! LOL.


The screech of the tires.

Fear.

A frightened cry.

Shock.

Sound of glass breaking.

When the car finally stops, the silence is deafening.

He blinked, trying to steady the world that circled around him. He groaned in agony.

He fumbled around with the seat belt until he could get the clasp to release. Then he leaned toward the woman in the passenger seat, and brushed the hair from her face, trying to wake her up. Nothing. Her eyes remained closed. Scared as hell, he saw blood staining the front of her shirt.

He fought to stay conscious, but it was a losing battle. He whispered her name with regret, before losing consciousness.

He had no idea how much time passed, but as he was dragged back into consciousness, he heard voices.

"I think your foot is definitely broken ..."

The pain was throbbing in his ears; he was not sure which part of his body hurt more. Everything seemed indistinct, as if his brain were wrapped in cotton wool. He's forgetting something important, but what?

"She has a small laceration in her scalp…"

"Is she going to be okay?" a male voice asked.

"Head injuries bleed a lot because of all the blood vessels there. Without fractures in the legs and arms."

"The ambulance is on its way."

"Thank you, officer."

"I think he's waking up."

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Earlier that day…...

"Are you sure?"

No. In fact she wanted to run.

Instead she straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and met his gaze. "Yes, they will not give up and I'm tired of hiding."

They had this discussion a few days ago. The reports have gotten wind that Dr. Scott has returned from the dead, so to speak, and have been hounding her and Tom's family for days. As Rachel was not keen to go out of the house, Tom's father and children have borne the brunt of their hounding. Finally, Rachel has decided that they should hold a press conference to satisfy the press' curiosity. Tom was not so keen on her plan and was very concerned for her state of being. But Rachel pushed until Tom relented. And now here they are.

They entered the crowded room, full of reporters who were eager to see her, it was her first public appearance since her return. Watching the crowd of reporters and TV cameras made it difficult to control her nervousness. Tom walked up to the make-shift stage with Rachel following right behind him. Her entrance caused a certain tumult, quickly restrained by the soldiers present in the room.

He pulled out a chair for her and as she sat down, he leaned towards her speaking quietly, "Relax; they do not bite, and if they, did remember that I'm armed. They have to go through my dead body first before they can reach you."

She already knows him well enough to know that he will not do it. But her body relaxed, her lips curving into a small smile.

Then Tom took his own seat. He adjusted the microphone slightly as he started to speak. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. You were all invited to be here today because I'm tired of your attempts to see and talk to Dr. Scott. The last one was just ridiculous."

Everyone in the room laughed out loud at that statement.

"You cannot deny that Casey looked cute in a woman's dress," one of the reporters commented sarcastically.

"With those hairy legs, he would not fool my grandmother, and she's blind, another reporter said.

Casey McKenna was really embarrassed, everyone else in the room laughed at his expense, but then he saw the funny side of it. The picture of him dressed as a woman was in every newspaper in town. Humiliating? Definitely, but it was necessary to make some sacrifice for the career, right?

Because of him, his colleagues were here, having the opportunity to see and talk to her, a woman whom everyone thought was dead. Dr. Rachel Scott.

"Okay. This is the deal," said Tom. "You talk to her today, take some pictures and then leave her alone. If I meet some of you on base again, I'll consider it as an attempted invasion, my soldiers have orders to shoot. Is that clear?"

"Yes," replied a chorus of voices. Most of them were thinking that she was not going to be hiding in the base forever. A photo or two would not hurt anyone.

"Excellent," Tom said. "Well, let's begin."

"Before answering your questions, I'd like to say one thing to my friends, Jake and Elena," Rachel started. "How can I thank you? You saved my life in so many ways. Thank you. For everything."

The reporter directed a question to Tom. "How do you feel about this? What's it like to have her back?"

"Happy and grateful that she is alive. As a friend, I'm going to do my best to help her anyway I can," he said easily.

"What do you think of the Admiral's statement?" asked an older reporter, raising his hand and smiling in her direction.

"I can only thank him; everyone here has been very kind to me and very generous, and supportive."

"Hi, Dr. Scott, Trevor Brown, St. Louis American. How long do you intend to stay here?

"I don't know, probably until I have my memories back. The trauma that caused my memory loss happened here and I hope that the answers are also here."

"How do you feel since you came back?"

"Useless, I'm not doing anything here, it's frustrating."

She had read all the reports on the vaccine, although she recognizes her handwriting in those reports, it's still strange. She has a hard time believing, she still does not feel Rachel Scott.

"Doctor, your work saved thousands of lives. I think you can take some vacation for the rest of your life."

"I don't want vacations, I want my life back," she replied, her voice harsher than she intended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. Admiral Chandler told me I'm a workaholic; maybe this side is closer to the surface."

"Do you believe in everything he says?"

"Everything? God, no! We already had some differences of opinion, but I trust him. I've no reason to think otherwise."

"Why did you go to the cemetery?"

How did they know that? She asked herself. The fact should not surprise her; they seemed intent on knowing everything about her life.

"I thought I could get some answers there."

"Did you find the answers you were looking for?"

"Yes, I remembered the name of the woman that was in captivity with me. I remembered her eyes, the fear I saw in them."

"Anyone under these conditions would be, Dr. Scott."

"Do you remember her name?"

"Lizzy. Her name was Lizzy."

"Are you investigating to find out her identity, Admiral?"

"Yes. There is a family out there that deserves to know the truth."

She poured herself a glass of water.

"Do you have any clues?"

"As the investigation is ongoing, I'd prefer not to say more at the moment."

"Did you remember anything else, Dr. Scott?"

"I remember waking up in a pool of my blood. Dizzy, confused, in a lot of pain. But instinctively I knew I had to get out of that house. And that's what I did."

"Do you remember where that house is?"

Tom had not told her, but hoping to find out more about what had happened to her, he and Mike had done an investigation. With the information Jake had given them about where he had found her. They had discovered the house where she had been held captive.

The scenario they found was worthy of a horror movie. There was dried blood on the floor, on the ropes, and on the corner of the table. The marks of her feet on the floor, telling part of the story. She must have stepped on her own blood, because the marks on the floor matched the size of her feet. Mike theorized that somehow she had managed to cut the ropes, the blood on the knife they found pointed in that direction. And then she'd tripped and banged her head on the table.

In his career as a detective, Mike had investigated several cases of abduction and had seen several crime scenes. Tom trusted his friend's experience. Mike had collected some fingerprints on the spot. Maybe they could finally find out who had died in that accident.

"No. It was dark and I was desperate to flee. Placing one foot in front of the other exhausted all my energy reserves. I must have passed out. The next thing I remember, I was waking up looking at a dog."

"That's when you found Jake Evans, right?"

"It would be more correct to say that he found me."

"How did you know that you could trust him?"

"Instinct is something innate; it is our intelligence in its most primitive degree. Survival instincts made me want to run away from that house. My instincts told me that I could trust Jake."

"How can you speak like a scientist, but don't remember your own name? "

"I'm a scientist. My memories are buried in my subconscious, but they're still here," she says, tapping two fingers on the side of her head.

"You stayed at the Evans house for weeks. Why didn't you try to find out your identity?"

"My injuries were serious, in the early days, I was in a haze of pain, or unconscious."

"And after?

"I was afraid of what I might find." She was afraid of what lurks in the shadows of her past, and to be honest with herself, she still is. "Someone had tried to kill me."

"How did you know that?"

She was answering the questions easily, but a more attentive observer would notice her tension and discomfort. Talking about the kidnapping was not easy. A direct interference from him would not be welcome. But maybe there was another way to help her. It was time to use a diversionary tactic. Give journalists something more interesting to focus on. He just needed an opening.

"For the nurse who took care of me, it was clear that my injuries had not been self-inflicted. And were not compatible with an accident."

"How was your meeting with Admiral Chandler?"

Rachel looked at Tom and said, "Difficult. It was strange to look at someone from my past and still, not to remember anything."

"It seems that your conversation with him was friendly, because you agreed to go back with him."

Rachel and Tom stared at each other, both remembering their first meeting at Jake and Elena's house.

"I wouldn't call it friendly," Rachel said. "We argued… heatedly."

"Why?"

"Well, he was a stranger to me, who seemed to know more about my life than I did. A man who seemed to believe that I should return with him immediately, arguing that it was not safe for me to stay with the only people I knew, practically demanding that I return with him. I was scared and it motivated me to fight."

"Do you still see him as a stranger?'

"He is not a stranger anymore, though I still do not remember him ."

"What did you do to convince her, Admiral?"

There was the opening he was waiting for.

"Well, she was not very willing to go back with me, so I did what I thought was necessary, I got down on my knees and begged her."

He held an important position, he was a man accustomed to wielding power, to giving orders. Why was he exposing himself like this? Then she saw the excitement on the journalists' faces, salivating like dogs who were offered a very juicy dish and they could barely wait to snatch the tidbit.

Diversionary tactic.

He had fed the journalists' greed for gossip and that had distracted them from the main focus. The story of her kidnapping.

"Is that true?" the journalist asked, sounding skeptical of the Admiral's statement.

"This is a joke, right? Are you playing with us?"

"Yes," Rachel said.

"No," Tom said at the same time.

Trevor has been a reporter for almost four decades, unlike most reporters in the room; full of enthusiasm, but without the experience to avoid being manipulated by the Admiral. Because that was what he was doing, drawing attention to himself, to protect her. And she was doing the same. Although she does not remember who she is. They were clearly in tune with each other. It would be very interesting to see how this relationship would evolve.

She smiled at him warmly.

"See, as I said before, Captain Chandler and I don't always agree."

"Are you sure you don't remember him?" Case asked, "You just called him Captain."

"I did?" she asked, looking at Tom for a moment. "I'm sorry, Admiral."

"It's okay, Rachel. You can call me whatever you want."

Her smile widened. Her head was telling her it was a really, really bad idea, flirting with him in front of the cameras. But, at the moment, she didn't care.

"Are you sure? Maybe you want to reconsider, I have many witnesses here."

"Positive," he gave her a warm smile.

"There seems to be a story behind this, would you care to share? Dr. Scott? Admiral?"

"No," they responded in unison.

"No more questions for today, ladies and gentlemen, this interview is over," Tom announced, getting up from his chair. Rachel followed suit.

The journalists complained and a flurry of hands went up, asking for a few more minutes as Rachel and Tom stepped off the podium and walked out of a side door past a guard.

Then they are alone in one of the holding rooms waiting for things to calm down a bit so they can leave.

"Do you think they believed what I said?" she asked. "I didn't think it would be so hard."

She turned away and set to pacing the room.

"You did well," he said.

She snorted and kept pacing. "I don't know about that, what I do know is that you felt the need to come to my rescue."

He smiled.

"Excellent diversionist tactic by the way," she said.

"It worked," he said with a soft grin towards her.

"Maybe too much." Rachel muttered under her breath. Out loud she said, "Now they think we have some kind of relationship."

Would it be so bad to have a relationship with me? He almost asked, but he controlled himself in time.

He stepped in front her, stopping her pacing. She glared at him.

"We have," he said.

She stared into his eyes, letting herself be lost in them.

"Huh?"

He held her eyes, "A relationship. You and I," he says softly.

Suddenly, they were too close, not really knowing how they got in that position. She bit anxiously at her bottom lip as she felt his hot breath against her face.

"We are friends."

"Friends?" she asked in a whisper.

"I can be whatever you want me to be," he said, his eyes never leaving her face.

Acting on an impulse, he slipped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her to him. Rachel's eyes widened, surprise on her face. She rested her hand against his chest, not stopping him, but not encouraging him, either. Then he lowered his head; slowly as if giving time to her to move away, but she didn't. A low moan escaped her lips when he brushed his lips over hers. Tom took that as her consent and joined his lips to hers softly. His tongue courted her soft lips tenderly, caressing them to open up to him. With a sigh, Rachel opened her lips to him and felt her knees weaken as his tongue made contact with her own. She felt her breath leave her lungs at the intensity with which Tom made love to her mouth. She felt his strong arms around her, bringing her body flush to his hard one.

Tom could hardly believe that he finally has Rachel in his arms and that she was allowing him to kiss her. He cannot get enough of her taste or the feel of her body flushed against his. He can feel his desire for her rolling over him in waves. He can feel her hands behind his neck and on his head, running softly over his hair. Just then, Rachel pulled her mouth away from his to catch her breath, but only allowed her a few seconds before bringing her mouth back to his. This time, his hands roamed over her back and buttocks while he kissed her more deeply, groaning deeply at his own explorations.

A loud knock on the door made them both jump. The two nearly smacked heads, startled at the sudden interruption. They were eyeing each other, Tom had not released Rachel and Rachel's arms moved from his neck to his chest.

"Sir, we're ready to go."

Hearing the reminder from the soldier, Rachel blushed furiously, bowed her head and tried to disengage herself from his arms.

"No…wait," he says, trying to hold her, but he knew it was too late. She had already turned away, making a point to focus on anything but him. Silently, he uttered every single curse he knew in English and… Russian. It took all of his willpower not to haul her back to his arms.

"Sir?"

He took a second to inhale-exhale once more in a bid to reclaim his composure. When he answered, his voice sounded strained and hoarse even to his own ears. "Give us a minute."

"Of course, sir."

"Rachel," he started, walking towards her figure.

She raised her eyes to meet his, a faint blush still on her cheeks.

"I… I, uh…" He could not think of anything to say. I'm sorry, he definitely was not. He couldn't help thinking how good it has been to hold her in his arms. Are you okay? It would be a stupid question. Her whole life has been turned upside down. Can I kiss you again? The way she's looking at him now, she would surely run away from him. The spark is still there. Time. She needed time, and somehow he'd make sure she got it. "Do you want to talk ab—"

"No!" she said, her voice a little unsteady. "Can we go now? Please…"

"Sure," Tom said with resignation.

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He slowly regained consciousness, his mind confused, and it hurt when he breathed.

"It's okay, just lie down, ambulance is on the way."

He, still a bit confused, tried the best he could to focus. "Everything hurts!"

"You'll be fine," the stranger replied with a reassuring smile.

"What is your name?"

"His name is Tobias", the girl replied by opening her eyes. "Oh God! My head hurts…"

"Nausea? blurred vision?" the woman asked.

"No, just a headache."

"Tobias?"

"Fucking brilliant…" he closed his eyes; it hurt to keep them open.

"I need you to stay awake for me," she said. "You probably have a concussion."

"I'm sorry, Julie, I'm so sorry…"

The adults exchanged an amused look as the two teenagers sighed unhappily.

Tobias looked at the woman next to Julie, and back at the man beside him. They were so familiar, he had seen them somewhere, he was sure.

He widened his eyes as the information clicked into his brain. "You're the Doctor who came back from the dead. We heard your interview on the radio. Julie thinks you two should date, that you're perfect for each other."

"Tobias…"Julie spoke his name as a warning and her embarrassed expression said, shut up

He widened his eyes when he realized that he had said too much and made an "Oh!"

"He looks well, alert and attuned to the danger." Tom said.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

The siren sounds louder and more shrill as the ambulance approaches them. Two paramedics jumped out the vehicle and grabbed their supplies out of the back before hurrying over.

"You're not dying, Tobias," Tom said.

"I'm not so sure," he said softly. Then he raised his head and looked at Julie. "I'm sorry you have to see this."

"What do we have here?" one of the paramedics began and his eyes widened when they saw who the two were beside the victims, but he recovered quickly.

Tom walked away so that the other paramedic could examine the teenager and watched Rachel as she spoke to the paramedics.

After witnessing the accident, she had run towards the car of the victims before he could even stop her. Tom had seen her act without hesitation, examining the two teenagers with the competence he had seen her demonstrate so many times during the mission when her medical knowledge had been demanded. During those minutes, he had seen Dr. Rachel Scott in action. Had the accident awakened her memory?

While answering questions from paramedics, she could feel Tom's eyes on her. They had seen the driver lose control of the car crossing the street and crashing into a tree. In those few minutes when she witnessed the accident, memories of blood and death assaulted her senses with stunning clarity. And another memory came to the surface.

As she walked back to the car with Tom beside her, she could hear the whispers and speculations of the people who had witnessed the fact.

She looked directly at him, and answered his silent question.

"I remember."

"Everything?"

"No, it seems I have not forgotten my medical training, after all."

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"The press conference looked like a success," Jed commented to Tom as he welcomed him home, "I just saw it on the local channel."

Tom sighed heavily and ran a tired hand over his nape. "Yes, I think it was."

"So how come you look so miserable? Did anything happen to Rachel?" Jed inquired with a frown.

"Well….something did happen after the conference...I think I moved too fast..I must have scared Rachel…" he muttered. "She wouldn't even talk to me when we left and I drove her home."

Jed was quiet, just watching his son leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed.

"Well, I will not pry what it is that happened between you and Rachel but you may want to consider it from her point of view…."

Tom turned sharply to his father, "What do you mean?"

Jed shrugged, "I mean, I am sure she thought it not good to be doing something with a man who still wears his wedding ring despite his wife being already dead."

Tom sat up with an aghast look before burying his face on his hands.

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