(*Author's Note: Anyone else getting tired of these? I just wanted to thank Skybrite Daye for beta reading this chapter. Was that all I wanted to say? Oh, I almost forgot. I also wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far. Well, I guess that's it.)

***

Al was a proud man; he did not apologize to just anyone- which was why he was surprised to find himself outside of the visitor's room planning on doing just that. To a stranger no less. To a stranger who might be deserving of a little anger . . .

It wasn't fair, he knew, intellectually, to blame a single person for madness of the kind that happened in Germany. Even if it were Hitler sitting in the Waiting room he would have been wrong to leave like he had. And from what he could tell, the man in the Waiting room was hardly Hitler.

But Al was also an emotional man. No matter what one thought about the Nazis and their tactics, emotions would always be high when they were only discussed. Now there was one in the Waiting room. Al was thankful that no one beyond Verbena, Sam and himself knew that- who knew what could happen otherwise? He knew that there were some, even at the project, who would do worse than he had. Much worse.

Looking down at the control pad on the side of the door, Al tried to decide whether to do what he had come down here to do. It would be very easy just to turn around and wait in the control room until Ziggy came up with something for him to tell Sam. It also would have been cowardly and Al was no coward.

Still, Al could not deny the relief that he felt when his Handlink beeped loudly. Digging it out of his pocket, Al scanned its surface. His relief was short lived, however, as he read the device again, just to make certain that he had made no mistake. Unfortunately, he hadn't.

Al had to leave the matter of the visitor till later; this was much too important to put off. As quickly as he could, he made his way to the imaging chamber. He finally knew what Sam was there for and it couldn't wait.

***

A short while after Al had left, Wilhelm felt very drained. He had tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Things were finally sorting out in his mind and he remembered almost everything, as far as he could tell. He even had most of those other memories sorted out too, at least, he could no longer confuse any of them with his own. This was one reason that he could not sleep- his mind was too full.

His stomach growled and reminded him of the other reason that he could not sleep. His mind may have been full, but his belly wasn't. It also didn't appear as if anyone was going to feed him anytime soon. Judging from Al's reaction, Wilhelm doubted whether he would get any visitors any time soon.

Truth be told, he was lonely. And scared. No harm in admitting that; it was true and he was perfectly justified. Something had happened to his body and to his mind and no one seemed willing to give him any answers. It was enough to make someone sick with worry. Not that he was. At least, he didn't feel to unwell.

All this taken into consideration, Wilhelm decided that he was holding up pretty well. Or, at least, he hadn't gone into a stupor from shock. He had seen such things happen. When he was in the Great War he saw more men lose themselves than he had ever imagined possible and he never wanted to know what it was like.

At any rate, he would have given anything to have someone to talk to. Any one. Even Al who hadn't taken too well to him the last time. 'Hadn't taken too well' being defined as 'had looked ready to punch someone.' At the moment, even hostile company was better than none at all.

As if in answer to his want, in stepped a young woman whose name he didn't know. Her expression seemed unnaturally blank, as if she were trying to hide something. In her hands she held a tray and while he couldn't quite identify the contents, he was reasonably sure what it contained was food.

"Hello, I don't think that we've met. My name is Wilhelm, what is yours?"

Wordlessly she handed him the tray. Obviously she wasn't going to even bother pretending to be polite. Well, he had been brought up better than that and he had no intention of abandoning his manners just because she had. "Thank you."

She stepped back, turned and looked as if she were about to leave. Then she changed her mind and turned back. She just stood there watching him.

Wilhelm sighed and tried to ignore her. Tentatively he ate, still not quite certain what he was eating, but finding it not entirely disagreeable While he knew, from so may discussions with Hogan . . . Who was Hogan? Looked like he didn't have his all of his memories back after all. Anyway, while he knew that American's weren't known for treating their POW's badly, he got the feeling that he wasn't in a POW prison at all. In that case, all bets were off, as it were. In any case, he just hoped that the meal wasn't actually poisoned or anything equally unpleasant.

Looking up from his meal, he saw that the woman hadn't moved and her expression hadn't changed. It made him more than a little uncomfortable and more than a bit irritated. She looked at him as if he were some kind of freak; mostly disgust mixed with a little awe and a hint of pity- all in all, it did nothing to improve his quickly souring mood.

Deciding that he had just as much right to look at her as she had to look at him, for a moment, he stared back. She was tallish, with a curly brown thatch of hair and brown eyes. She looked young, no older than twenty, if that. She wore a lab coat similar to the one that Verbena had worn. He couldn't place what exactly she should be doing, but he figured that whatever she did, it didn't include serving meals. She looked too . . . smart. As if she was a nurse, or maybe even a doctor- while it was uncommon, there were a few lady doctors around.

He handed his tray back to her. "Thank you."

She took it, and again, she didn't answer him.

Finally, pushed to the end of his limited patience, he snapped, "And what, precisely, do you find so fascinating about me that you feel you have to keep watching me?"

She blinked and turned away, but not fast enough for Wilhelm to miss her tear bright eyes. "I just wanted . . . I don't know what I wanted." She turned back to him, tears threatening to fall, "I just wanted to see what one of you monsters was like." With that, she ran from the room.

Wilhelm sighed. He knew that he was hardly the smartest person in the world, not that he was likely to admit that to anyone, but he could add two and two together and get four. In this case, the first two was when Al had left after learning that he was a Nazi. The second two was when the young woman had said that she wanted to see what one of the "monsters" was like. The four was . . . Well, he wasn't quite sure. Somehow he got the feeling that it wasn't just some very good Allied propaganda making them act that way. But what else could it be?

He had some idea. He knew that the policies that the Fuhrer had made about the Jews bordered on the completely paranoid. He also knew that the Gestapo were not very nice people, an understatement of the case, if anything. He had also heard some disturbing rumors . . .

Which he couldn't let himself think about. Not if he wanted to stay reasonably sane. Besides, talking openly about such things was dangerous and Wilhelm was terrible at keeping secrets. In any event, he had a duty to his country- and he wasn't about to shirk it because of a few unfounded, if unsettling, rumors.

In a mostly futile effort to take his mind off such concerns, Wilhelm started thinking of some questions to ask the next time someone came into the room. He had been kept in the dark for long enough. It was time that he got some answers.

***

TO BE CONTINUED

(at some later date)

(in the possible future)