Chapter Two

Steve got to the hospital that evening, just in time for a conference with Jaime's three doctors. He'd agreed with their request to wait until the next morning to go and see her.

"I met Jaime for the first time this afternoon," Allison told him, "and was able to begin my initial assessment." She turned to the other two doctors. "I know you both feel Jaime's amnesia was caused by a lack of oxygen to her brain, but I have to disagree."

"What do you think triggered it?" Steve asked.

"Jaime's verbal skills and ability to express herself are very high. If the cause truly was organic, these abilities should've been lost to the same profound level that her memory was. I believe this was caused by an incident - or series of incidents - so traumatic that, in an attempt to block out those particular memories, her brain shut down all of her memory cells as a sort of safety net."

"Steve, what do you think Jaime would consider the most traumatic thing that ever happened to her, if she had a full memory?" Rudy asked.

"The worst I can think of was losing both of her parents, but that was almost ten years ago."

"Did someone close to her die recently? That could've brought the memory back to the surface and caused the problem," Allison suggested.

"No - no one."

Allison thought for a moment. "Steve, was Jaime ever raped?"

"No. And up until she lost her memory, I believe she would've told me."

"We'll figure it out. I need you to gather some pictures for me tonight: her parents, your parents, Oscar Goldman, her childhood home and pictures of both of you as children. If you have it, I'd also like a picture of the plane from her accident, or a similar small plane." Steve nodded. "Tomorrow, you'll show them to her one at a time, like flashcards. We'll see what, if anything, she remembers about each one, and if any of them provoke a reaction. She could feel strongly about any or all of them without any memories attached, and that would tell me where to begin with her therapy."

"All of those should be here, except the plane. But I think there's a picture of me in full gear beside a plane, possibly the same plane, in the album in my car."

"Great," Allison said. "Thank you. Then I'd like you to try and get a good night's rest; you're probably going to need it."

------

The three doctors met again with Steve the next morning while Jaime picked at her breakfast. "Do you have any questions?" Allison asked him.

"Exactly what does she know now? They told me she had nothing at first, but what has she been told since then, so I know what to avoid?"

"She doesn't know her parents are dead; in fact, she hasn't asked any questions at all about her family," Michael told him. "She looked at quite a few photos yesterday but appeared to have absolutely no interest. We've also shown her a scrapbook about her tennis career, beginning to end, and that only seemed to depress her."

"Steve," Rudy began, "Jaime hasn't even heard the word 'bionic' since she woke up, although she had a small incident the other day where she accidentally shattered a tennis racket. But - once again - no questions."

"So," Steve summarized, "she's not much further along, memory-wise, than when she first woke up."

"Right," Rudy agreed grimly.

"I'd like you and Jaime to take a walk together," Allison explained, "to hopefully get her out of the 'patient' mode for a little while. You're probably safe answering any questions she might ask, but try to give specific answers, with no extra details she might not be ready to handle. If she wants to know about her parents, go ahead and tell her, but again, don't volunteer the information if she doesn't ask. For now, I'd advise glossing over any 'bionic' issues. I'll be waiting back here, on the benches in the garden, and we'll look at those pictures together when you get back."

"I think we'll be fine," Steve affirmed, nodding his head and unconsciously crossing his fingers.

------

Jaime shyly slipped her hand into Steve's as they headed into the small forest behind the complex. "Is that ok?" she asked.

"Of course." Steve gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"You know, this is the first time I've been more than ten yards away from a doctor or nurse. It feels so good! And...it feels so comfortable, being here with you. We must've been friends for a long time."

"Since we were kids."

"I wish I could remember. I hate feeling so disconnected."

"Jaime, the important thing to remember is that you're connected now. I'm here for as long as you need me to be. Rudy gave me a room just down the hall from yours, so anytime you need to talk, I'm here. And I really do mean anytime - even in the middle of the night. Ok?"

"Thank you," Jaime said softly.

"I'll do anything I can to help you, so please don't be afraid to ask."

Jaime smiled - a real smile - at him as they reached the stream on the other side of the trees. She looked out at the water, and Steve could see that something was on her mind. "What'cha thinking about?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"If we were kids together, then you must know my family."

"Yeah."

"I've been wondering: why haven't my parents come to see me, or at least called?"

"I know they would, if they could."

"Where are they?" she asked tentatively.

Steve mentally braced himself and placed a hand on her back, careful to keep it supportive and not romantic. "Jaime, I'm really sorry, but...they were both killed when you were 16."

"Oh." She was quiet for a few minutes, tortured by memories she didn't have and couldn't reach. Without thinking about it, she automatically leaned closer to Steve. His hand on her back became an arm around her waist, and she was pleasantly surprised by how comforting, and how right that felt.

------