"I want to talk to David."

Seated at the table, Cassandra was looking at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.

"You do know either you have to fly up there, or he has to fly down here. Either way, I don't think he's going to be happy to see you. Besides, you have to get travel cleared and I have to go with you."

"I know, but I need to talk to him," I said as I sat down. "It's why I risked this in the first place."

"Risked what?"

"Being found."

She looked up from her report again, as if she wanted to ask something, then thought better. "Why do you want to talk to him?"

"The last time we really saw each other was almost two decades ago. As you may know, we didn't exactly end on the friendliest of terms."

"I read the report."

I stared at the table, trying to piece together what exactly it was I wanted to talk to David about. Less than a week ago I knew what I wanted to say, but that was before I had my past forcibly dredged back up. Before we had a fleeting encounter that raised more questions than it answered. Before my mind had been shattered twice. And that was assuming he even wanted to see me again. He made it very clear that if I wasn't part of a federal investigation, I would be behind bars.

I just needed to talk to him.

I got up and walked to the balcony since that's as outside as I could get right now. The sun was starting to peak over the trees, but I could see dark clouds in the distance. A bit prophetic for my current situation; either they would come, or they would clear. My expectations versus my hopes. I was aware of rustling behind me.

"I have to talk to them anyway. About..." A pause. "Government stuff."

"Classic government stuff."

"Shut up."

Snickering to myself, I turned around to see her standing up. She was scowling at me, which only broadened my grin.

"'Government stuff' was really the best you could come up with."

"Hank, I'm warning you..."

"Alright, fine." It wasn't her tone that shut me up, it was the light touch on her side-arm that did the trick. I wasn't quite sure if she was serious, but I wasn't about to find out.

"Anyway, the four of us have a meeting. You, however, have been summoned...elsewhere."

I wasn't grinning anymore. "Why doesn't that reassure me?"

She snorted. "Relax, they're only mildly interested in your felonies. Probably just want to ask a few questions."

"Still doesn't reassure me."

Hours later, I was walking out of the room, legs shaking. I leaned against the wall, trying to bring my stress response down. Just when I decide to forget about my past, suddenly everyone and their dog wants to hear about it. Did I really expect to be a part of an investigation and not have to talk about 'important intel' that only I know? Yes, yes I did. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. So much for wanting some me days. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the waiting room I was supposed to meet Cassandra in.

She was not there, but someone else was.

"Grant."

Upon seeing me, he got up. "Hey. Heard you want to talk with your brother."

"Yes? And...?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea, man? After all, he wanted to throw you behind bars."

"Why do you care?"

"Because it would save me a flight up to Maine, which is cold and wet. I don't do well in cold and wet."

I stared at him, utterly disoriented. "Wait, you're the one coming with? I thought it was Cassandra."

"Yeah; she said she would love to go with you, but she has some important, classified work to do. So now you get me. Don't sound so disappointed."

It was clear she did not want to witness the impending showdown between me and my brother.

"Government stuff, huh?"

He looked quizzically at me. "I...guess?"

At that point a wave of exhaustion swept over me, landing me hard on the nearest chair.

"You don't look too good."

"Thanks."

An awkward silence. A nap sounded really tempting right now.

"You doing alright?"

I looked at him. "Honestly? No. If I think about certain things, I get pain. If I look at...certain people, I get pain. And everything right now seems to revolve around those two things."

"And yet you want to see David."

"Fuck. I have to." That nap felt tantalizingly close.

Grant took one look at me, half passed out on the chair, and said, "Well, I trust you'll stay here until I get back then."

I managed to give him the thumbs up before I fell asleep.

It wasn't a dream, I could tell right away. It was too real, too tactile. It was another memory. Definitely not real and definitely not mine. Familiar wall designs in unfamiliar rooms, and droning on and on was a distressingly familiar voice. I saw three faces; a man's, a woman's.

And my own.

"Wimbleton, are you ok?"

Waking in a flash, I pulled away from the touch, only to see Grant hovering over me. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes. I could feel a migraine setting in.

"I'm fine."

He didn't seem to believe me but didn't press further. He looked around, concerned. "This might not have been the best place to leave you."

"What do you mean?"

He watched me get up, swaying slightly. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "We've been cleared. You better not pass out on me on the way there. When you said you wanted to sleep for a week straight, I didn't think you would actually do it."

"Oh, my apologies. Next time I'll just ask my body not to collapse on me without warning. Next time I'll decline to answer the nice government people probing about sensitive subjects. Yes, wouldn't that be nice."

"She was right, you do get sarcastic."

I just gave him an exasperated look and continued walking.

"Would you prefer the term sassy?"

"Grant."

"Anyway, we need to go."

"Thank you."

As it turns out, I managed to make it onto the plane before passing out again. It was starting to worry me how exhausted I've felt recently and the number of times I've fallen asleep because of it.

I woke up briefly on the plane, conscious enough to catch part of a call Grant was making.

"...was twitching, and not in a good way. He flinched away from me when I tried to wake him. And you know who had just been in the room?" A pause. "Yeah. I'm with Will on this one, something shady is going on." A longer pause. "He looked even more exhausted after I woke him up than he did before. He's even asleep now." Another pause. "Right, but he can't..."

And I was asleep again.

I was back in Maine, and wishing I'd brought a heavier jacket. The temperature had dropped in the couple of days I'd been away, and I wasn't prepared. Speaking of not being prepared, I still didn't know what I wanted to talk to David about. Surprisingly, he had agreed to talk. Not sure If I should feel encouraged about that.

I finally felt that I was rested enough to function properly, but my stress response was starting to get out of control. Was I nervous about actually, finally talking to my brother? Fuck, I was. But I had to. If I didn't, it felt as if a part of me would finally die; that one sliver that had kept me moving for the past seventeen years.

We were meeting in Brooklawn Memorial Park; I didn't know if that was because it was close to the airport, or a point was being made. I looked around for David; he was late, as he had always been. Seems he hadn't quite gotten the hang of what I had shown him. I glanced at Grant, who was somberly looking at the plaques. Some had flowers, most didn't.

How many people were in similar places because of me? I always told myself they deserved it- and they did- but visiting a cemetery really hit me in my vulnerable state. I was starting to regret coming here. But it was too late to turn back.

Way too late, way too soon. I watched the car pull up, park. The door opened, and we locked eyes.