For five days the doctors had probed him with their medical instruments, stuck him with God knows how many needles, and subjected him to every kind of test imaginable. The result…John wasn't any closer to discovering who he really was than before.
All tests for any form of hallucinogenic toxins or substances of any kind were negative. His EEG and EKG were normal. P.E.T. scan, C.A.T. scan, M.R.I. were all normal. His blood value was normal. There were no signs of any kind of trauma or concussion to his head. No brain tumor, no temporal lobe epilepsy, and no indication of any organic abnormalities of any kind.
To put it in simple terms, there was nothing wrong with him. In fact, the doctors had commented that John was the healthiest patient they've ever had! Shit, he had even passed all of the psyche evaluations with flying colors! There was absolutely nothing wrong with him!
So, if there was nothing wrong, why couldn't he remember who he was? Why couldn't he remember his family or friends or where he lived? And why was he having horrible visions and nightmares about torture and pain and bizarre unearthly images?
And if things couldn't possibly be worse, Officer Tom Riley had informed John that there were no missing person reports matching his physical description. But Tom, who was by nature an optimist as well as a caring human being, said he would continue searching by having a good friend of his at the local FBI office run John's fingerprints for a match.
While John was very grateful for Tom's help in this matter, John had some trepidation about discovering who he really was. He was certain, now more than ever that if his identity were to be revealed those near him would be in grave danger. What exactly that danger was, he still didn't know. It was just this dark shadow lurking in his mind that was always present.
Yet, as this fear had grown within him, so had the need to connect with someone, anything familiar. His was a lonely existence, he felt lost to world around him. More accurately, he felt like he didn't exist because he didn't have a name or a past. The doctors had told him that if he could connect with one thing perhaps it would be the key to unlocking the memories deep within his mind.
That was about the only good thing that they told him just before they had released him from the hospital. They had sent him out into the world with an address of a shelter that could help him move on. Essentially washing their hands of him because there was nothing wrong with him. Problem was that he had no idea how to get to the shelter and he didn't know in what direction to move on. He didn't even have any money, just the clothes the hospital gave him from their lost and found. And if not for his 'guardian angel' he might still have been sitting on that bench outside the hospital in the rain.
John didn't actually call her a guardian angel, but she was as beautiful and as kind as he imagined an angel would be. Her name was Annie. She was the one ray of light in this darkness he found himself lost in. She was a young nurse, about his age, who had visited him regularly as a part of her duties. A lovely woman who looked so familiar to him that he was certain he had met her before. He had even asked her if they met before when she first came into his room while making her rounds. Only her short reply, 'Sorry buddy, I've heard that line before', was just another indication that he was truly lost in the world.
Maybe he had a lost look in his eyes or maybe she had felt sorry for him. Whatever the reason, when Annie had come by his room again, she apologized and told him she never met him before. John could tell right away that she was not the kind of person who would lie. She was too good a person. She was honest and pure. A very intelligent lady with a kind heart and soul.
Despite the fact that they never met, John still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her. Her face and temperament seemed so familiar that he felt at ease in her presence. Plus, being near her made him feel closer to discovering who he was.
"John, what's wrong?" her voice whispered in the darkness.
"Nothing, I just can't sleep," he sighed staring up at the ceiling.
"Yes, I know that! You've been tossing and turning for the past hour!" she replied in that playful tone of hers as she turned the small bedside lamp on.
"Sorry."
"Another nightmare?" she asked, looking down at him.
Again, John felt his stomach flutter. Annie looked so familiar to him with her bold blue eyes and long wavy blonde hair.
"You said a name this time," she continued as he slowly moved his fingers through her hair.
"I did?" he asked because he didn't remember most of the nightmare he had this time.
"Sam."
Sam? It was a simple name. He knew it wasn't his name but…
John was hit by one of his visions again. This time he found himself lying on a hospital bed. A woman with short blond hair and blue eyes was holding his hand. She kissed him on his forehead. She was crying. Why was she crying? Who was she? Was she Sam? Whoever she was she invoked a strong feeling in him.
"John?" Annie's voice sounded and the vision was suddenly gone. "What did you remember?"
"Sam…she's someone important to me…I can feel it."
"She?" Annie asked and he felt her hand move off his chest. "A wife?"
"No," he firmly replied, quickly embracing her and holding her close. "When I see her face…I feel this sense of pride. And the love I feel…it's more like a…fatherly or brotherly type of love. Nothing like what I feel towards you."
"John, we agreed to not get too close," she said sadly. "You could be married with kids."
"Somehow, I don't think I'm that kind of guy!" he laughed.
"Ah…the ambitious type, only thinking of his career," she teased. "Yes, I can definitely see you trying to make General before your forty! Can't do that if you're tied down to a wife and kids!"
John laughed even harder then laughed harder still as she was tickling him. A wife and kids, it was preposterous, he was too young to be settled down. At least, John didn't feel like he was the kind of guy to have settle down so young. Besides, he didn't see a wife or children in his visions or his nightmares.
"John?" she questioned when he suddenly stopped laughing.
"Sorry…I just feel so lost at times," he said turning away from her.
"Tell me about your nightmares and visions. You never want to talk about them."
He closed his eyes and didn't reply to her. Just like he did on a few other occasions when she tried prying the answers from him. His little guardian angel, always trying to help him. God, he felt like such a jerk at times for shutting her out. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate what she's done for him these past few of days. After all, she was brave enough to bring a strange man into her home just so she could help him feel like a whole person. She even bought him some nice clothes and shoes. And when he promised to pay her back for everything, she simply smiled at him, telling him not to worry about it. As a result, he cared about her a lot more than he should.
Did she care about him? Would she still care about him if or when he learned who he was?
Annie wrapped her arm around him and snuggled against his back. Her fingers gently combed his chest hairs.
"It will help if you talk to someone," she persisted in a gently tone, kissing his ear.
Yes, she cared for him more than she wanted to admit!
Turning under her arm, he faced her and saw her smiling warmly at him.
"Tell me," she whispered affectionately caressing the hair on top of his head.
He exhaled slowly, touching her face with his fingertips. She was right. He knew he couldn't keep things bottled up inside him for too long.
"My nightmares, my visions…they don't make any sense. Some are painful. Some are just…weird. I see people with glowing eyes who talk with strange voices. There are weapons that aren't of this world. Some weapons that can inflict such excruciating pain…I swear I can feel it. Crystal underground tunnels with people running away from something and I'm running with them sometimes. Oh, space ships…did I mention space ships? Well there are lots of them! Some even look like pyramids! Oh and get this…there's a shimmering circle of water that stands vertical like a doorway instead of horizontal."
He paused, waiting for her reaction. She didn't laugh like he had been expecting.
"Sounds like some kind of bizarre science fiction series like Star Trek, doesn't it?" he asked expectantly.
"Do you believe they're your memories?" she seriously asked.
"I'm not sure what to believe. Sometimes they feel like my memories and sometimes they feel like they're someone else's memories that have been down loaded into my head. Am I nuts?"
"No, John, you're not nuts," she smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure you will find the answers you're seeking."
"I hope so," he sighed.
"Did you ever think that maybe you lost your memory for a reason? My mother used to tell me that things happen for a reason in life. That it's our job to just accept them. While your memories seemed to be painful and unpleasant, perhaps forgetting them is a blessing that you've received."
"I thought perhaps…I was being punished," he admitted slowly.
"Why say that?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern as she slowly caressing his face.
"I don't know. Maybe because I can't remember anything pleasant. You could be right, maybe I'm not supposed to remember. Maybe it has something to do with the feeling that I lost something important. Whatever the reason, I can't shake the feeling that I'm putting people around me in danger. The last thing I want is for someone…for you to get hurt."
"You don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself!"
"Yeah, I kind of got that impression about you!" he laughed. "You don't take any shit from anyone!"
Annie giggled, as he intended.
"Annie…if Tom's friend with the FBI doesn't come up with something…"
"Shh, you're such a gloomy Gus," she purred pressing her finger against his lips. "Try not to think so negatively."
"I'm just trying to be realistic…"
Annie silenced him with her kiss. No confusion about what she was thinking. Perhaps that's why he found her appealing…Annie lived in the moment and gave it to you straight. The past or the future didn't concern her. She had a way of making him forget about his worries, about his unknown past and what his future might be.
John secretly hoped that Tom didn't find anything about his past. He didn't want to lose Annie, not when a future with her seemed so promising.
The parking lot was deserted with no chance of it filling up anytime soon. It wasn't even dawn yet. Still, Tom was uneasy about meeting his friend in these early morning hours. David, even though he was an FBI agent, was never paranoid! This meant that whatever information he found out about John Doe was as John feared…dangerous.
John seemed like a really nice person who was genuinely distraught about his predicament. The last thing Tom wanted to do was upset his new young friend any further. But John was desperate for answers…good or bad. And it was Tom's promise that he delivers the news.
A pair of headlights caught Tom's attention. He immediately recognized the car but waited to exit his car until his friend pulled up beside him. Once outside, David unlocked the passenger door and Tom didn't hesitate to climb in.
"Here," Dave said as he handed Tom a folder after shutting the engine off. "It's not much but I did the best I could. There were a lot of backstop id's that lead to nothing but dead ends."
"Speak English Dave! I haven't had my coffee!" Tom growled as he opened the folder
"He's been scrubbed," Dave replied, turning on a light. "Meaning someone went into the system and wiped out any possible trace of him. And what they left behind didn't say much."
"His name's Jacob Michael Carter…General in the Airforce!" Tom exclaimed in disbelief as he read the file. "Come on! He's only about twenty-five years old! There's no way he can be a General!"
"Oh, it gets better!" David grinned looking over at Tom. "He died…two months ago!"
"What? This has to be a mistake! You've got the wrong file!"
"Hey, you gave me his fingerprints! Fingerprints don't lie," Dave smirked.
"If he really is Jacob Carter then what the hell happened to him?" Tom asked even though he knew Dave wouldn't have the answer. "This file say he's fifty-nine! The guy I had you fingerprint is only about twenty-five!"
"Tom, I don't know what happened to him and I don't want to know. What I do know is this guy is connected to some top level shit within our government. What that is, I don't know. Could be black ops, covert units, or stuff our government denies all knowledge of. Or he could be part of some top-secret medical experiment that turned him into a young man and losing his memories was a side effect. Maybe he's a clone. Shit, now a days anything's possible."
"Dave, do you have a point! My headache's only getting worse."
"My point is that you're not going to be able to help this guy. He's way out of your league. Who knows, he could be on the run and just doesn't remember or he's hiding the fact that he's on the run."
"John…Jacob's not hiding anything. You didn't see the look in his eyes when he said he felt like he was putting people in danger. He really meant it."
"Then my advice to you. Listen to him. Cut him loose. Give him his file and be done with him. Believe me, you do not want to be around when the Air Force or the government finds him!"
"And where the hell is he supposed to go?"
"Dammit Tom! You can't help everyone!" Dave snapped.
"I'm not just going to wash my hands of him!"
"There's a local address in the file. A Mark Carter lives there. He's Jacob's son. If your John Doe needs answers that's his best bet."
"Dave, this has to be a mistake…how can this guy be General Carter?"
"I told you, I don't know! The point is he's dangerous! And the further you are away from him the better!"
The morning was quiet at the hospital, for a change. So Annie took the opportunity to try and take a nap. This was going to be a long shift today and she didn't get much sleep last night. Not that she was complaining about it!
John finally started to open up to her. Annie didn't think it was good for him to keep all those worries bottled up inside him even though, by nature, he seemed like the kind of guy who was reserved and held his emotions in check. The kind of guy who wouldn't open up about his feelings to just anyone. Nor would he willingly talk about his troubles. She took it as a good sign that he confided in her.
It was Annie's hope that if John talked about his visions and nightmares that his memories might jar themselves loose or something. He was so bothered by the fact that he couldn't remember anything about himself. He felt lost with nothing or no one to connect with. And Annie truly wanted to help him to become a whole person again.
Yes, she could have let him sit there in the rain outside the hospital. She could have just driven him to the shelter. Only she didn't. And she did something her supervisor told her not to do, something even her friends warned her not to do, something she normally would never have done. She had not only brought a patient but a total stranger into her home. But then, she normally never felt for a patient the way she felt for John either.
It wasn't the Nightingale syndrome where a nurse falls in love with a patient. No, this situation was nothing like that. She genuinely wanted to help him. John was more like a lost puppy that needed to find his home. Plus, there was something about the way he looked at her that she found…intriguing. He wasn't a man of many words but his eyes were very expressive. Annie was aware that she was a lovely woman but didn't flaunt it. Still, she was weary of men who glanced lustfully her way. Only John never did, his eyes were filled with a longing she had never seen.
No man had ever looked at her in such a manner.
No man had ever made love to her the way he did either. He was patient and affectionate. Nothing like a man his age would be. Not that Annie had much to compare him to having had only two lovers in her lifetime. But John was…knowledgeable in pleasuring her, never thinking of himself.
Annie found it rather amusing now because when he had first come into her home he wasn't interested in her that way. In fact, John had been more interested in unlocking his memories and thought Annie could help him. Only she had not been able help him with his memories like he had hoped. There was just a familiarity about her that he had connected with. What surprised Annie was that she had felt a similar connection to him.
She couldn't explain the feeling then, nor could she now. It's almost as if they were meant to be together. John even had tried to resist this unexplainable connection while Annie was the kind of person who accepted it without question. Of course, he couldn't resist her for too long and it did feel right having him in her arms. And when he was with her, he was able to let go of his worries and be a whole person, which was all Annie had hoped for.
"Annie!"
Annie opened her eyes when she heard John's anxious voice. He was kneeling down beside the couch she was lying on. So much for sleep!
"John…what is it? What's wrong?" she asked as she quickly sat up.
His dark eyes were sorrowful when he looked at her. Then she noticed that Tom, the police officer who kept visiting John during his stay at the hospital, was standing a short distance away.
"You found out something, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yes," John replied. "I have to go. I'm sorry. I couldn't leave without telling you how grateful I am for everything you've done for me."
"John, you don't owe me anything," she smiled caressing the soft stubble on his face. "I was glad to help."
"Still…words cannot express how thankful I am," he said sadly, taking hold of her hand then kissing it tenderly.
"So…what's your real name?" she asked.
"I can't tell you."
"Still trying to protect me?" she teased.
"Now more than ever," he smiled then he turned deadly serious. "There will probably be people looking for me. If you don't know anything, they can't harm you."
Annie looked away while biting her bottom lip. She told him that they shouldn't get too close. She tried convincing herself that she didn't care deeply for him but she did. And he told her he cared for her.
Only, now he was leaving.
"Just so you know…I'm not married," he whispered, wiping her tears away. "And I sincerely hope that when this is all over that…"
"Shh," she cooed, putting her finger on his lips. "Don't say it…I don't want you to make a promise you may not be able to keep."
John slowly nodded.
He just stared into her eyes for the longest moment before she finally just kissed him. John held her tight and kissed her deeply in return. Annie just clung to him as tightly as she could, not wanting the moment to end because then he would be gone.
Then…he was gone.
He had said his good bye and she had wished him luck. Then she watched him being driven away in Tom's car. John was being taken from her and Annie wasn't sure if it was forever or for a while. She never contemplated what her future might be. Her philosophy was to live each day to the fullest because you never knew what the future was, to believe that if she were destined to be with John, or whoever he was, that one day their paths would cross again.
Only what Annie didn't realize as she watched John leave, was that much later that day his theories would be proven right. And that she would find herself hoping that she and this man whom she deeply cared about would cross paths again. Even if it was in passing to know that he was ok.
"You did the right thing," Tom told him as he drove the car away from the hospital.
He did the right thing…
Jacob knew he did the right thing. His instincts told him he was protecting Annie by not telling her what little he discovered about himself. But it didn't make him feel any better. He still felt sick to his stomach for leaving her after all she had done for him. Simply saying thanks to her felt so…inadequate. Plus, the look in her eyes only made him feel worse. Both of them never actually said that they loved each other but their affections spoke volumes of how they felt for each other.
Yes, he did the right thing…and it hurt like hell!
"Jacob…"
"I know I did the right thing!" he snapped at Tom.
The man remained quiet and simply continued driving. Great, if Jacob didn't already feel like shit he had to bark at the only other person on the planet who had helped him and that he could call friend.
What an asshole!
"I'm sorry," Jacob sighed.
"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing…I didn't realize you two had a thing," Tom smiled.
Jacob smiled to himself.
"It just sort of happened," he grinned.
"She's very pretty."
"No…she's more than that," Jacob frowned, looking out his window at the other cars as they passed by.
When the car came to a stop at a traffic light, Jacob turned to Tom.
"Tom…you don't have to do this. I'm grateful for everything you've done so far…but you're putting yourself in danger. I can't allow that."
"I know but I feel like I should be helping you all I can," Tom replied.
Jacob noticed that Tom's jaw muscles clenched when he replied and that his hands tightened around the steering wheel. Tom was a good person but this was going way beyond that. This became something personal for him.
"Something happened to your brother," Jacob spoke softly. "You said he was sent to Iraq, I assume it was under combat conditions."
"He was about your age…would have been twenty-six next month. He was killed in action two weeks ago."
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. He died doing his duty. I respected him for that even though I didn't agree with this war."
"Then why?"
"Because he was my little brother," Tom smiled as the car started moving again. "It was always my responsibility to look after him…and I wasn't there. I know it wasn't my fault he was killed and I know he was a grown man. But it doesn't make how I feel go away."
"So, by helping me…"
"I know you're not my brother…but you needed help. I know in my heart my little brother would have wanted me to help you."
"And you have. But after this, I want you to go," Jacob said seriously. "I'm hoping this Mark Carter can provide me with the answers I'm looking for or at least point me in the right direction. You are already in way over your head."
"Jacob…"
"Not another word! Do I need to pull rank?"
"I'm an out of uniform cop right now and you're a dead Air Force General, technically you can't order me around."
They both laughed. Not the kind of laughter at a joyous party. But the kind of laughter that stress induced because they both knew danger could be just around the corner.
"Tom, seriously, whatever happens here with this guy, whether I stay or go…it's the end of the line for you."
"Very well," Tom agreed. "But if…"
"I have your number…I'll call," Jacob said to pacify Tom.
Since discovering his identity and part of his past, Jacob believed more strongly than before that those around him were in danger. He had no intention of calling Tom. Nor did Jacob have any plans for remaining too long with Mark. Whether Mark was really his son or not, Jacob just wanted to ask a few questions then go on his way. He knew he couldn't stay anywhere for too long. And the sense of urgency in his search for whatever he was missing had increased.
Figures, on his day off the phone kept ringing, the kitchen sink was clogged, and he broke a shoelace on his favorite running shoes. All of this happened during a span of two hours after the kids were sent to school and his wife went to work. Then after a little while, when things finally appeared to be quieting down, the doorbell rang.
Mark groaned loudly as he got to his feet. He barely took two steps before the doorbell rang again, followed by a hard knock.
"I'm coming!" he shouted then mumbled, "What does a guy have to do for one day of peace and quiet?"
Normally, when the doorbell rings it's just kids selling candy or something. Mark didn't mind and always contributed to their cause. It was the adult solicitors that he despised because they didn't seem to understand what a simple word like 'no' meant.
Only when Mark answered the door, he didn't know what to make of the two gentlemen standing there. The taller gentleman Mark didn't recognized and got the impression he was an undercover cop. But the younger man looked somewhat familiar and looked like he belonged in the military with the way his hair was cut and the way he stood stiff as a pole. Only he could have been a criminal too with the way his dark stubble had grown in unchecked.
"Are you Mark Carter?" the taller man asked.
"Yes," Mark answered slowly.
"I'm Captain Tom Riley with the San Diego Police. May we come in?"
"Excuse me, but what is this regarding? Can I see some ID or something?" Mark countered. He wasn't about to let two strangers into his home even though one of them looked familiar.
Tom reached into his jacket and Mark noticed the gun. The guy must be a cop of some kind. Mark confirmed his belief and what the man said after examining the man's credentials. But Mark found it odd that the other man didn't show his credentials.
"What's this regarding officer?" Mark asked, noticing the stranger was observing Mark very carefully.
Again, Mark had the feeling he knew the stranger.
"This is about your father, Jacob Carter," Tom answered.
"My father's dead," Mark said sadly. "He died about two months ago in some top-secret military facility where they wouldn't let me in to say good bye!"
Both Tom and the stranger remained quiet.
"Sorry," Mark sighed. "My father and I…well we didn't always get along but I still would have liked the opportunity to tell him that I did care about him. Even if he was a stubborn son of a bitch."
"Perhaps…perhaps you can still tell him," Tom said.
"What?" Mark asked in disbelief.
"May we come in?" the stranger asked.
The stranger's voice made the hairs on the back of Mark's neck stand on end. He knew that voice and knew it well. It was his father's voice. But his father was dead. Unless this stranger was…
"Come in," Mark said, standing aside to allow them into his home.
Mark was an intelligent man. Everything always had a logical explanation. As far as Mark was concerned, so did this situation. In fact, the answer was staring Mark in the face as the three of them sat down in the living room.
"So, is this stranger my long lost brother?" Mark immediately asked. "He looks a lot like dad. Even has his voice."
Neither man appeared surprised by Mark's guess, which puzzled him. In fact, the stranger looked even more melancholy than before and for the first time turned his gaze away from Mark. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing erect again; it was eerie how the man's profile was just like Mark's father's profile.
"This young man was discovered lying unconscious in a playground two blocks from here just over a week ago. No ID was discovered and the subject had no memories of how he got there or who he was. The doctors didn't find anything physical or mental to cause his amnesia and the Police department found no missing person reports matching his description."
Tom paused and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.
"I have a buddy at the Bureau do a check on the fingerprints…"
"I take it your buddy found something that led you to me," Mark interrupted.
"Yes," Tom continued. "As you may or may not know, each person's fingerprint is unique and cannot be duplicated. And a fingerprint cannot lie. If you're in the system we can find you and..."
"You know…after my mother died," Mark interrupted because he was losing his patience. "I used to hate it when one of my father's friends would tell me I acted just like my old man at times. Now, I'm proud to admit that I'm stubborn just like dad, maybe not as stubborn as he was but I do have the Carter gene for stubbornness. But one characteristic that really makes me my father's son is that I hate dancing around the issue! Just get to the damn point!"
The stranger smiled, looking directly at Mark. This time Mark got goose bumps up and down his arms!
"Mark…I don't know how I ended up like this," the stranger explained. "And I don't even know why I'm here in San Diego. But I'm guessing it has something to do with the fact that you are my son and that I am…Jacob Carter, your father."
Mark barked a short laughed. It was absurd! His father was dead! Another thing Mark really had in common with his father was his hot temper!
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" he snapped angrily, jumping to his feet. "Get the fuck out of my house!"
"Mark…" Tom started to protest.
"No, Tom…it's alright," Jacob, or the man claiming to be Jacob Carter, said. "I don't want to trouble him any further."
As the two men started to leave, Mark suddenly had a memory flashback. It was just after his mother's funeral. He and his father had another blow up. George Hammond, one of Jacob Carter's closest friends actually had to pry Mark away from his father. Mark was still upset. His father was just trying to talk. But Mark just lashed out and started swinging his fists at his father. The man did nothing to stop the blows. After George pulled Mark away, Mark started to walk away…
"Jacob, do you want me to talk to the boy?"
"It's alright George…I don't want to trouble him any further today."
Mark looked at this stranger more closely when he glanced back at Mark. The eyes were definitely his father's; they had an intensity that Mark remembered. Some of this stranger's mannerisms, like how he sat or stood, as well as how he used his hands when he talked were like Mark's father. Then Mark saw the scar on this guy's forehead. He didn't notice it before but it was in the same exact spot where his father's scar was. A scar his father received after a mission had gone terribly wrong. Mark was only four but he remembered how much his mother cried when they had visited dad in the hospital. It was the one and only time Mark ever saw his father injured after a mission.
"Dad…wait…"
It had been an hour since Tom left. Mark had let Jacob wander around the house for a bit to see if something sparked in that head of his. Nothing did. For fifteen minutes, Jacob looked at the pictures on the mantle. The pictures were of his grandchildren but they didn't unlock any of his memories either. In fact, nothing in Mark's house was familiar. And when he looked at Mark, all he received were images of Mark shouting and yelling at him.
Hell, he was beginning to wonder if Mark was even his son! They looked nothing like each other. Even Jacob's so called grandchildren didn't resemble him in anyway. No wonder he still couldn't remember anything!
"Do you remember anything?" Mark asked.
"Nothing," Jacob sighed turning away from the pictures.
"Here, since you don't remember…you are a coffee fiend," Mark smiled, offering a cup of coffee.
"I'm not allowed to drink coffee," Jacob replied automatically without thinking.
"Sound's like you've been trained to say that!" Mark laughed. "Go ahead…I won't tell anyone. Besides, you look like you could use one."
Jacob was reluctant. Mark was right; it was as if he were trained to not have coffee. What the hell, who was going to stop him? And he was tired after not getting much sleep last night. Even after Annie left for work Jacob couldn't sleep. Then when sleep was about to overtake him, Tom showed up. Jacob took a sip and waited. There was no voice of protest in his head as he had been expecting, only his own thoughts. Despite the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be drinking coffee, he took a long drink, then another.
He really liked it! He couldn't imagine why he wasn't allowed to drink the hot brew!
"Thanks!"
"Dad…" Mark started hesitantly.
"You can call me Jake if it makes you feel more comfortable," Jacob smiled. "Calling me Dad, when I appear younger than you, is…odd, even for me."
"It doesn't bother me," Mark smiled. "It's just that Melissa's coming home for lunch…what do I say about you?"
Jacob sighed, they couldn't tell her. Hell, he felt like he shouldn't even have told his own son who he was.
"Then I had better leave," Jacob said, handing Mark the empty cup.
"And where are you going to go? You don't have a clue about anything! You have no money, no clothes except what you're wearing!"
"Mark…I don't know…I came here looking for answers! Instead I only have more questions!" Jacob shouted.
"Maybe we should call Sam…"
"NO!" Jacob insisted adamantly. "The last thing I want is to involve your sister! I shouldn't have involved you!"
"Melissa's going to be here in less than fifteen minutes…we have to tell her something!" Mark shot back. "Come on Dad! You're a smart guy!"
Jacob sighed out of frustration and fell into the nearby chair.
"Do we always have to argue?" Jacob asked, staring blanking at the floor in front of him.
"Dad…I'm sorry," Mark said softly, putting his hand on Jacob's shoulder.
Jacob looked up to see Mark was frowning.
"We did tend to argue…a lot," Mark admitted. "But not anymore…I promise. We'll figure this out together."
A car suddenly pulled into the driveway. Jacob's first instinct was to leave, to get the hell out of there. He didn't even realize he had stood up and was moving away until Mark grabbed hold of his arm.
"Dad…it's alright. It's Melissa's car."
"Mark…I should go…"
"No! Now sit down…I'll think of something!" Mark insisted, shoving Jacob back down into the chair. "And quit being so paranoid! You make it sound like the 'men in black' are after you!"
With that said, Jacob was suddenly Jake, Mark's half brother who decided to look up his family after his mother died and left him a letter telling him who his father was. And Jake sat wide eyed and had to keep his mouth shut as Mark went on to convincingly explain that Dad had a fling with one of Mom's friend's a couple of months after Mom's funeral and apparently Jake was the result. Hell, after Mark was done, Jake almost believed it himself!
Of course, Melissa believed her husband. There was no reason not to. Jake, while he still couldn't remember much of anything, firmly believed that he would have raised his son to be an honorable man who would never lie to his wife. Hell, Melissa even commented on how much Jake looked like Jacob and expressed how sad it was that he never got the chance to meet his father who just passed away not too long ago.
Jake felt a little awkward at first after Melissa happily accepted him as part of the Carter family. But he relaxed when his grandkids showed up and he loved it when they called him Uncle Jake. He found it rather therapeutic playing with the kids. He was even beginning to remember other times when he had played with them at the park where he was discovered.
Over dinner, Mark started talking about Jacob, as if Jake were really his half brother. It was his way of helping Jake to remember who he was. Jake quickly learned that he was a workaholic who didn't spend enough time with his family. But there was nothing Mark mentioned about Jacob's Air Force career that explained the horrible visions and nightmares that Jake was having.
Staring into his empty cup of coffee, Jake knew he couldn't mention his visions or dreams to Mark. The less his son knew the better.
"More coffee?" Mark asked, drawing Jake out of his reverie.
"Yes, thank you."
"Melissa's sleeping, so it's safe for us to talk," Mark smiled, refilling Jake's cup before sitting beside Jake at the kitchen table. Then Mark opened a photo album. "Here, I thought we should wait to do this until we were alone. This…is a picture of you when you…well when you about the age you are now."
Jake looked at a picture of himself standing by a fighter jet in an Air Force flight suit. He definitely looked just like the guy in the picture.
"Of course, you're a little more clean shaven in the picture than you are now," Mark joked, making Jake smile scratching the long soft stubble on his cheek. "Except for the mustache. You had that mustache until Sam was about ten years old and by then had already lost most of the hair on your head!"
"Thanks for the warning…I think!" Jake laughed, smoothing the hair on top of his head with his hand.
"Don't worry. Now they have stuff that can help you keep your hair. I've been using it for a couple of years. Otherwise, I would have lost my hair too!"
Both men laughed heartily as only men could do when they know they're doomed to go bald. Then Mark stopped laughing and his smile faded as he pulled out a picture from the photo album.
"This…this is a picture of mom…Allison…she was your wife," Mark said sadly.
Jake's hand shook slightly when he took hold of the picture from Mark. No wonder Annie seemed so familiar to him. She had the same bold blue eyes as Allison and she even had the same shade of blonde hair. The bone structure in their cheeks was similar too. Plus, Allison's picture explained why Mark and Sam looked nothing like him too…they looked like their mother.
The vision hit Jake without warning. Everything was so vivid, as if he were there. He could smell the gasoline fumes as he hurried to open the turned over taxicab's door. Then he could feel the disbelief followed by despair when he saw Allison's body.
"Dad?"
"Oh God…no!" Jake's voice trembled as he pulled his wife's lifeless body from the wreckage. "Allison…Oh God…no!" he wept as he clung to her. "I'm so sorry…it's all my fault!"
"Jake, it was an accident!"
"George…it's my fault…I killed my wife!"
"No Jake. It's not your fault! It's that jackass of a drunk driver's fault!"
"George…what am I going to do without her?"
"Jake, let them take her. I'll help you get cleaned up. Then I'll take you home to the kids."
The vision changed and Jake was standing in Mark's bedroom. In the vision Mark was a boy, a whole head shorter than his father was.
"I hate you! It's your fault she's dead!" Mark screamed through his tears. He even punched at Jacob's chest but Jacob stood his ground and didn't attempt strike back or defend himself.
"Dad?"
Jake turned to his son. He could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"You were right to hate me…her death was my fault," Jake whispered.
"No Dad. You're memories are still screwed up, you're not remember things correctly. It was an accident," Mark said wrapping an arm around Jake's shoulders. "And I was a stupid, angry teenager looking to pick a fight with anyone because I was hurting. I truly regret that I ever said those words. It took you dying to make me really understand what an idiot I've been."
"Why can't I remember anything good?" Jake asked out of frustration.
"Maybe you're not asking the right person the questions," Mark suggested. "I still believe we should call Sam."
"No! I don't want to endanger her! I've already put you and your family in jeopardy!"
Jake put the photo down and attempted to collect his thoughts. These new visions sparked something in his memories. There was a man with him when he found Allison. This guy was a good friend. Someone Jake instinctively knew he could trust.
"Who's George?" Jake asked.
"He's…"
"Shh!" Jake quickly whispered, when he thought he heard something outside the kitchen window.
"What?" Mark whispered.
Jake didn't think, he just reacted instinctively as a soldier and as a father. He quickly pushed Mark down to the floor and covered him, protecting him from the shattering glass. Something metallic bounced on the floor immediately followed by a hissing sound. Looking up, Jake saw the gas beginning to fill the room.