A/N: So, I hope you've been enjoying the story so far. I didn't make any notes before this because honestly these chapters are short and you probably would rather read the story than hear from me. But I thought I'd say hey at least once before the last chapter. This story was a brainchild after watching some of the Bourne Series. Love watching Jason Bourne. Anyway, I liked the part where he goes looking for clues to who he was and that he lost his memory. You probably all know who John Doe is. The story came to me as a dream and I went with it. Also a distraction from doing actual homework (thumbs up). Fun fact, I only just decided who the bad guy was about two chapters ago (a day ago). No idea why these chapters are so freaking short other then the fact my readers seem to like asking me to write more and post more. So I'm doing that by posting short chapters frequently. SPOILER ALERT, THERE WON'T BE A SEQUEL! Enjoy the story and if you really really and I mean desperately need a sequel then feel free to write one and just say it's the sequel. I'm totally down for that and am curious to read some of my reviewer's work. Peace to all.
John was exhausted and opted to crash in a motel room even though he knew it was risky. He would only sleep for a couple hours though to regain his strength. His body wasn't used to so much running around after being static for two weeks.
He didn't even make any stops to eat. Now he was feeling fatigue. His stomach growled at him as he laid face down on the bed.
Only a couple hours he told himself.
John didn't know how long he slept when he heard the door burst open and people stormed inside. He tried to look for an exit, but before he could clear the other side of the bed a hand grabbed his arm and pinned it against his back.
Grunting, he laid still as a pair of handcuffs were put on him. He could only turn his head slightly to see the detective before with other faces unfamiliar to him.
"I think you've had enough fresh air and exercise for today." Chris said as he pulled him to his feet.
"I can assure you there's no need to be rough. I'm not in any condition to resist." John grunted as the detective marched him out the room.
"Considering that you were in a coma state for two weeks and incapacitated an officer after being awake for six hours, I think continue to keep a tight grip on you."
John was pushed into the back of a police vehicle with another officer to watch him and the door shut behind them.
"You weren't the one I debilitated earlier today right?"
The officer looked at him as if he was crazy and he gave the man a mischievous grin before they pulled off.
When they reach the police department John was placed in an interrogation room. He yawned as he stared into the one-sided window. Waiting for someone to arrive and tell him what was going on seemed to take forever.
That thought made him chuckle. They probably arrested him but didn't really have anything to hold him.
The door opened and detective Larabee entered.
"What do you have to laugh about?"
"Well to begin with, do you have anything to hold me?"
"Should I start with the one you're aware of? You attacked an officer."
"So slap my wrist."
Chris sat down across from him and John instinctively sat straighter.
"We were able to find a little bit about you today while you were playing hide and seek."
John didn't allow his interest in this information to show in his features. He didn't want that to be used against him. However, the detective seemed to have already planned to do this.
"Why don't you tell me what I want to know and I'll give you what you obviously want?"
John frowned, "I don't know what you want from me."
"We know you were in a store to have a key illegally copied. The store owner was able to identify you. He also said you exchanged words with the man we're looking for. What can you tell me about the man with the scar on his face?"
"A man with a scar?"
"Yes." Chris pulled out the image he was able to pull up from all the different camera angles and reconstructed the face. "This is him."
John looked at the picture and frowned.
"I guess he looks familiar."
"What did you say to him?"
"I don't know!"
"Stop stalling. This man is a killer. He tried to kill you if that's a better incentive to talk."
John ran his hands over his face, "I'm telling you I don't know!"
Chris got up and opened the door for another man to come in. This one was older and smiled down at him. Sitting in Chris' vacated chair he began.
"Hello, my name Josiah Sanchez."
"What, no detective?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, I assist the police department when they need a profile on someone. I also read up on memory loss to see if I can understand what is going on up there." he pointed to John's head. "Chris asked me to do this to see if we can unlock some of your repressed memories."
"So you're going to go all shrink on me. Sorry but I'm not going to tell you anything."
Chris, from the corner of the room, growled and John smiled at him intently.
"That won't be necessary. I won't be trying to label you tonight. That's not why I'm here." Josiah pulled out the various IDs and passports and put them on the table for the John to see.
John lifted them each up and studied them closely.
"What's this supposed to tell me exactly? All of these are different; the names, the address and state. Means nothing to me.'
John tossed the last one he was looking at on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.
"True, none of these are your true identity, but you also leave some of yourself hidden underneath. Places that you've possibly visited that are significant to you or a memory. Do you remember anything special or significant from Ethan Sawyer from Boston, New York? Does a significant person live in San Francisco, California with Elliot Somerson? What business brought Eddie Smith from Atlanta, Georgia have in DC? Eric Strout from Chicago, Illinois. Evan Swan from St Louis, Missouri."
The sat back in his chair, "Nope, nothing."
Chris slammed his hand on the table and grabbed the John by the collar of his shirt, "Let me tell you what I see, I see five identities and passports with various names making up your initials with your fucking grin on it. Now Sanchez says that your real name isn't present among these which proves to me that you're a criminal." Chris pulled out the pictures of the storage unit. There was a picture of each of the art pieces, "Why was Eddie Smith in possession of stolen art pieces, because I don't have to be a genius to come up to the conclusion that you stole these and are storing them under one of your aliases. We also found ten thousand dollars cash in a safety deposit box in a bank in Mr. Smith's name. So talk."