From that day on, Frank did better at his physical therapy sessions, knowing that the faster he made progress, the sooner he could leave. He pushed himself to the limit to the dismay of the doctors, who had to warn him that there is such a thing as going too fast.

Nevertheless, two weeks later, Frank was telling the doctor he was leaving.

The doc said nothing at first, as he studied his patient. Frank's hair had already totally grown back—to everyone's surprise—and you couldn't see the site of his operation unless you knew where to look. But Frank still looked unwell; his skin was pale, and he was thinner and looked exhausted; proof of his still-present weakness, a thing Frank denied.

"I don't know what to do with you," the doctor said. "People with an injury like yours would not only remain here for possibly another month, but they would be restricted from going on a plane for at least 3 months after they do get out! Yet here you are, checking yourself out and hopping on the next plane to the other side of the world! Do you want to risk another hematoma?"

It was a cruel question to ask Frank, who'd suffered greatly. He glared at the doctor, in a very Frank Donovan way. "I want to get my memory back."

Alanur sighed, sitting next to Frank on the side of the bed, absent-mindedly rubbing her son's back. She sighed, feeling fear at the doctor's words.

"The FBI already gave us the jet," said Jake. "As well as a doctor who specializes in head injuries, to fly with us."

"Yeah," said Cody. "The pilot's gonna keep the altitude real low."

Monica and Alex said nothing, the two of them also nervous at the possible danger to Frank.

"Doctor," said Alanur. "In your professional opinion, is further bleeding likely, if he makes this trip?"

The doctor sighed and put his face in one hand, as if hoping they wouldn't ask that question. "I can't say for sure," he said, lowering his hand. "He has a 50/50 chance."

"Which chance are you leaning towards?" Monica asked. "Yes, or no?"

"I can't answer that!" said the doc. "If I said 'no', and it did happen…"

Everyone was silent, understanding what he meant.

"Uh," said Cody. "I couldn't help but notice you picked 'no' as your example. Does that mean you think it won't happen?"

The doctor groaned.

Cody shrugged at everyone's exasperated looks, as if to say, 'sorry'.

Frank suddenly stood. "I need to sign papers, right?" A second later he wished he hadn't asked that question, as it only showed how extensive his memory loss was.

"Right," the doc sighed, turning to leave the room.

Frank followed him out; glad the distance to the desk was short. The receptionist handed him a paper and pen, and pointed to where he had to sign.

Frank took it carefully, hoping his arm wouldn't go numb, as he prepared to sign the paper. As he started, he hesitated. How does the 'real' Frank Donovan write his signature? He hoped it would come automatically, so he started to write. When he was about to sign his last name, he realized he couldn't remember how to spell it.

Alanur and Alex noticed there was something wrong, but before either of them had a chance to say anything, Frank wrote it, and gave the paper back to the receptionist. Looking around, he hoped no one had noticed that he'd had to read the paper to find the spelling of his last name. He felt like an idiot, and had to force away the anger he felt, at his situation.

The doctor brought a wheelchair over, and motioned for Frank to sit in it.

Frank opened his mouth to refuse, but then re-thought it, knowing it'd probably be a very long walk, and if he wasn't able to make it they probably wouldn't let him leave.

He held out his hand, to the doctor. "Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome," the doctor said, shaking his hand. "Take care of yourself, I don't want to see you back here anytime soon…"

Frank smiled at that. "The feeling is mutual."

Everyone laughed at that, as Frank sat in the wheelchair.

"Thank you so much!" said Alanur, taking the doc's hand. "For taking care of my son."

"You're welcome, ma'am," the doc said, patting her hand.

When they finally walked away, Frank sighed in relief.

Alanur pushed her son's wheelchair the whole way, and when they reached the lobby Frank told her to stop.

She obeyed, watching curiously as Frank got up, and held his arm out to her with a smile. She smiled back as she took it, and they walked towards the door.

"Wait here," Jake told Frank. "While I go get my truck."

"I don't want to stay in this place a minute longer than I have to," Frank answered, walking out the door.

Once in the parking lot, Frank looked around, trying to spot Jake's truck. To his dismay, he couldn't figure out which one it was, and he felt annoyed at himself as he followed him.

When Frank realized which vehicle Jake was heading towards, he frowned. As they reached it, he stared at it, trying to bring up any memory he could that involved it.

Not a single one came to mind.

"Oh," said Jake. "Hey Frank, how do you like it? I finally traded in my Blazer."

Frank blinked. "You mean I never saw this truck before?"

"Yeah," said Jake.

Frank smiled, relieved. "Good."

"It's the new TrailBlazer," Jake said, proudly, as he opened the door for Frank.

"It's nice," Frank said, as he got in, his mother climbing in next to him and Alex and Monica sitting in the third row.

"I get the front seat!" Cody exclaimed.

As Jake left the hospital parking lot, Frank watched the scenery out the window, hoping against hope that he'd recognize the area, or something.

Unfortunately he didn't, and when the fast-passing scenery started making him dizzy he closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat.

"Frank?" his mother said, softly.

Frank realized his action could be interpreted badly. "I'm all right," he said, looking at her.

Alanur gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Where are we going?" he asked Jake.

"Your place," Jake told him. "You gotta rest up before we take the flight."

Frank noticed the word 'we' and it made him smile. It felt good to see just how much people cared. "When do we leave?"

"Not sure yet," said Jake. "To tell you the truth, I didn't expect the docs to let you out today."

Frank looked out the window again. "Is our workplace in this direction?"

"Yeah," Jake answered.

"Could we go there first?"

Everyone exchanged glances. Maybe seeing The Nest would bring Frank's memory back!

"Only if it's all right with your mother," Jake said, getting a laugh from Cody.

Frank smiled, and looked at Alanur, who smiled back.

"It's fine with me, Jake," she said. "But he can only stay a little while before he has to come home and go to bed."

Everyone laughed at that, and Frank closed his eyes again. When he next opened them, it was when he felt a hand on his arm.

"We're here, Frank," said Alanur.

Frank got out of the SUV, and stood; looking at the building they were parked at. It was a big warehouse; nothing fancy, nothing special. It made sense, to Frank, to hide a government operation in such a place.

Everyone watched him as he stared at it. No one spoke, not wanting to intrude on his thoughts.

Frank eventually started walking towards the stairs and they all followed, again watching him as he looked around like he'd never been there before.

Frank slowly walked around the main area, trying desperately to remember something. He saw the mass of computers, and went over to them.

Cody gasped when Frank touched one of the keyboards, as if afraid he would damage it in some way.

Walking over to the table, Frank saw a folder there. He picked it up, and opened it.

Jake and Alex looked at each other, with an ironic look. The folder contained the case they'd been working on when Frank had gotten hurt.

Frank read the profile on the man, and saw that it didn't sound familiar at all. He put the folder down and went back over to the group. "My office?" he inquired. He'd almost asked if he had an office, but then realized he must have one, if he's their leader.

"Upstairs," Jake said, pointing.

Frank followed his finger, and didn't hide the look that crossed his face fast enough; a look that plainly said, 'I don't wanna climb more stairs!' He walked over, and slowly started to ascend them.

The others followed, seeing that he was quickly tiring. Jake caught up with him and took his arm, assisting him in the climb.

When they reached the top, Frank was upset to see that nothing looked familiar. He walked into the room, and approached the desk.

Everyone stood just outside the door, watching quietly.

Frank sat in the chair, and looked at his desk. There were no pictures, no special items, nothing that screamed, 'this desk belongs to Frank Donovan!' Perhaps the lack of atmosphere is what made it his. The only thing on the desk that wasn't an office item was a coffee mug. Turning it around, he read the words written on it. 'You're only as old as you feel.'

Everyone came further into the room when they heard him laugh.

Frank turned the mug around so they could see the words. "According to this, I must be 85 years old."

Cody laughed. "I bought you that. It was a joke, because you've been getting hurt a lot on cases lately…ooof!"

Monica pulled back the elbow she'd shoved into Cody's ribs. "Do you remember anything yet, Frank?"

Frank's face changed from looking amused, to looking defeated. "No," he said, softly.

Everyone sighed, exchanging unhappy glances.

"It'll all come back to you, dear," Alanur said, patting his arm. "Maybe while we're in Egypt."

Frank sighed and slumped back in his seat, his still-present weakness quickly catching up to him.

"Let's get you home," Alanur said, tugging on his arm to get him out of the chair.

Frank obeyed, submitting quietly when Jake and his mother took his arms, to lead him out.