General Disclaimer: I do not own the Roughnecks blah blah...Natasha Davis, however, belongs to me. *pouts* And I wish Carl did too...

Memories

It was late evening before they were allowed into the medlab. By that time, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Rico, however, was the only one pacing enough to put a hole in the floor in front of Carl's "special room". Natasha had situated herself next to the door, her head bowed in thought. Higgins found himself wondering what could have been going on in that head of hers. He could tell she was nervous about something, but what? The fact that everyone else in the room was nervous too didn't seem to help matters much. What he couldn't understand was why she seemed to be almost as antsy as Rico was. Had she known Carl before?

The voice of the nurse broke the silence, "You can go in now." Her tone was condescending and cold. "Only one at a time. I don't think he could handle much more than that." Rico hurried for the door, but the nurse grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Go in slowly," she sneered. " Do not ask too many questions; don't be shocked if he doesn't remember you. And above all, do not push him." Rico eyed her strangely. "He's dangerous," she added softly. "Now quietly..."

She slowly opened the door and led Rico inside. Carl had his eyes closed when Rico entered. He was sitting up in his bed, breathing strangely; it seemed to be difficult for him. He looked half-dead and starved; his already pale face was made even moreso by the dark circles under his eyes. The only sign he was even alive was the clenching and unclenching of his boney fists as they grasped the sheets. His platinum-blonde hair was lifeless and lackluster from ill-nourishment and lack of showering, Rico guessed. He looked like a dying man. Rico took a sharp breath; he hadn't wanted to see Carl like that. Carl's pale blue eyes fluttered open and he looked right at Rico.

"Hey, Carl," Rico stammered, waving his left hand at his friend nervously," old buddy."

Carl stared at him a moment before speaking. He seemed to be searching his mind, as well as Rico's, for something. He made an odd face and Rico blinked. "You look... familiar. I knew you before, didn't I?"

Rico smiled and quickened his speech, "Yeah! You and I went to high school together in Buenos Aires and then to the Academy before you got shipped off to Intel. You've been my best friend ever since."

Carl stared at him blankly. His expression shifted to that of puzzlement. "Rico? Johnny Rico?"

"That's right, Carl," he said as he smiled. Carl responded with a crooked version of the same. Rico raised an eyebrow; it looked as if half of Carl's face had forgotten how to function properly. "You okay, buddy? You look like hell."

Carl suddenly shook his head, rubbing his temples gently. "Yeah," he said. "I'm fine, Johnny. I'm just really, really tired. The nurse stuffed me full of trancs before she let anyone come in..."

Rico stood silently for a moment, thinking; Carl closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. He opened his eyes slowly and rolled his head, his neck cracking at least three times. Rico winced. Carl was acting really strange; even stranger than usual.

"Carl," he whispered, "do you remember what happened to you? Do you remember why Intel took you away? Why you went into a coma again?"

Carl lowered his head and closed his eyes again in deep thought. His breathing was ragged and he looked as if he were in pain. At length, he said, "Not a damn thing... Everything is a blank..."

Rico nodded solemnly and sighed. He tried to smile for his friend. "Hey, the others are waiting to see you, okay? I'll talk to you later, Carl." His smile became more sincere. "It's good to have you back."

"Thanks, Johnny," he said with a crooked smile. "I'll see you later."

The next in were Dizzy (whom Carl only remembered as Isabelle, much to her dismay), then Gossard (whom he had almost forgotten completely), then Doc (whom Carl insisted on calling Mr. LaCroix, instead of using his nickname), Brutto (Carl seemed to expect a beating from him), and finally Higgins (whom Carl remembered affectionately as "Paperboy"). The Lieutenant would visit him later. The nurse was about to announce that visiting hours were over when she noticed Natasha patiently awaiting her turn; the girl's mere presence sent chills down the nurse's spine. The nurse gave her an odd look.

"You can go in," she said with uncertainty, "but make it quick. Mr. Jenkins needs his sleep."

Natasha gave her a piercing glance and went inside. Carl had kept his eyes closed every time someone came into the room. This time, however, he had felt something different. Something frighteningly familiar, yet it was a feeling he had missed. He watched intently as the door slowly opened.

"Tasha!" he shouted; if he had had more strength, he would have jumped from his bed and ran into her arms. He stared at the girl standing in the doorway. She smiled at him.

"You remembered pretty quick," she said, chuckling. "According to the others, you had a pretty tough time remembering them. Steam coming out of your ears and all that. I must say I'm flattered."

Carl smiled awkwardly as she walked closer and sat next to him on the bed; his smile faded slightly. There was something different about her. His thin hands trembled as he placed them on hers. She snatched her left hand away; Carl looked at her with growing sadness in his eyes. Tasha smiled and kissed his cheek. A light blush crept up the naturally shy blonde's face as he smiled.

"I missed you, Carl," she said. "Ever since I heard about what had happened, I've been so worried. Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about you."

Carl wrapped his arms around her. It was then, and only then, that he began to cry. Tasha tensed slightly, so slightly that Carl didn't even notice. She closed her eyes and her mind from Carl, going into darkness.

"Tasha," he whispered, shuddering, "tell me exactly what happened to me. What happened?"

Tasha tightened her embrace and grit her teeth. She didn't know what to say. What could she say? She didn't really know what had happened to Carl, except on Tophet and Hydora. She decided to lie. 'I don't know the whole story yet," she said. "You were taken by the Bug army to one of their Brain Bugs. It was such a strain on you that you set off a "psychic bomb" and went comatose. You've been in a coma since the Pluto Campaign. Intel has taken very good care of you. You should thank them."

Carl nodded slowly; she was lying. He could tell. The two sat in silence for a moment. Carl attempted to absorb what she had said; why had she lied? He searched his mind for any trace of a memory that would unlock his true memories; he found nothing. He placed a hand on the back of Tasha's head. He would probe her mind for information; again, he found nothing. She was blocking him. He sighed in despair.

**Maybe it's better this way.**

Carl's eyes opened widely; Tasha's "telepathic call" had caught him off-guard. He sat back and looked at her.

"I feel like such an idiot, Tasha," he said softly. "I haven't even asked you how you've been. What squad are you with now?"

Tasha shook her head. "Don't you go worrying your pretty blonde head about me, Carl. you just worry about getting yourself better and back in the game. I can't do much good out there without someone to fight for."

Carl raised an eyebrow. "Someone to fight for?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm part of Razak's Roughnecks now. They were a trooper short. Your former replacement, T'phai, was killed on a clean-sweep of Hydora."

"T'phai? The Skinnies' Colonel?" Suddenly, Carl's eyes went dark. He remembered the name. T'phai-- Colonel T'phai of the desert planet Tophet. He sat for a moment with his eyes closed. A memory was forming.

"Carl?"

No response.

**Carl...**

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was smiling at him, her fingertips gently touching his face.

**Carl, don't push yourself like this. You'll hurt yourself.**

*But...Tasha...*

**No "buts", Carl...** She kissed him softly and hugged him. **Now get some sleep and get better.**

"I'll be out in the field in two days... fighting for you." She sat there for a moment, staring at him with sad eyes. Carl, desperate to overcome his shyness with her, inched closer to her.

*Tasha... of everything I've experienced in my life, there is one thing I have not forgotten; and I swear to you that I never will.* His hands were cold; his entire body was shaking. Tasha smiled and he calmed a bit. It had been so long-- years it seemed-- since they had seen one another that he didn't know how to behave. It was killing him. *Tasha, I still lo...*

She stopped him with a mental block and a finger on his lips for good measure. She shook her head slowly, smiling.

"Don't say it yet," she said. "I know. Just wait until I come back from Mars, okay?"

Carl didn't understand. Why should he wait? It had taken him most of his high school life and all of his time at the Academy to admit it to her and to himself. Hadn't it? He really did love her, didn't he? He closed his eyes and lowered his head; there was a sharp pain in the back of his mind. It was the pain of lies. He shook his head and ignored it. He wanted to tell Tasha how he felt. Why did she want him to wait?

**On the battlefield, love can be a deadly distraction, Carl. Wait until I get back. That way, I can assure you that I WILL come back, if only to hear those words...**

Carl watched as she stood up and walked to the door. His heart sank. She was leaving him again.

"Goodnight, Carl," she said, smiling.

"Goodnight, Natasha," he said. "Live forever."

She nodded and saluted. The door closed. Carl was alone again. And alone, he cried.

******

A/N: Hope you like mushy stuff. A guy friend of mine read this and thought he was gonna barf. Oh well. It gets more exciting, TRUST me!