A/N at the bottom.

I really don't own anything to do with Jason Bourne or any recognisable characters from the movies or novels.

He was driving through the city again – the same route as always – though he didn't know their destination. The radio was playing some non-descript music, which Nicky was singing along to it very poorly. David was laughing at her attempts to sound like the pop singer, as she playfully punched his arm in retaliation. It had begun snowing once again and the flakes swirled around the car as they pulled up to the traffic lights on the corner of East 27th and Vermont. Nicky was laughing at herself as she fed him a fry from the leftover Macdonald's Happy Meal. He looked over at she sat there – her plentiful hair had been braided on either side of her head, and she wore an orange beanie. He'd always loved the fact that she was completely opposite to his life in uniform: An all American girl, the kind that generations of soldiers had kept in the minds whilst in distant lands. It had been no different for David, their relationship was sacred, no-one was going to split them asunder – he'd kill them first.

Nicky smiled at him, knowing his mind had wandered off. As he stared at her, with an intensity that had at first disarmed her, she could see his eyes begin to brighten as he was pulled back to the present from memories of war and brutality. Grinning, his eyes darted between her lips and and her eyes. Chuckling, she leant forward to meet his lips; they kissed tenderly, almost reverently, until the driver in the car behind blared his horn impatiently and they realised that the lights had changed. David screeched forward as they were changing back to red and pulled across the intersection, tyres squealing noisily as they gripped the icy tarmac – but suddenly there was light…too much light and noise…

Jason work up with a start, blinking furiously to remove the white light that still filled his head. He'd had the same dream every night for a month, ever since Nicky had been hit by the van. She'd been released from hospital a week later - neither had mentioned that night or any of his memories since. It seemed like both were stuck in purgatory – too scared to step forward, too late to go back. He sat up in the little bed in the spare room – bed was too damn small anyway – and groaned as he stretched his back and neck. Dropping to the ground, he began his morning routine: 150 chin ups, 150 abdominal crunches, 150 push ups. Jason relished the workout, the slow burning of his muscles, the heat that spread through his system – it reminded him of infinite possibility. This was the one thing his brain couldn't rob him, the power of his body could take him anywhere, he could survive anything. Well, he used to think that, something was telling him it was not the case anymore.

He showered and dressed, finally stealing himself to enter the rest of the apartment. Walking towards the living room, pausing outside Nicky's room for a second before moving onwards, entering the living room he saw Nicky stood with her back to him, looking out the window; her black hair, which had grown slightly from the short crop, stuck up in all directions from sleep. Ever since Jason had had the flashback about their time together at Georgetown, Nicky had avoided wearing her sweatshirt. It made Jason oddly sad that she seemed to be so unwilling to acknowledge their history. Shaking his head, he continued to the living room, still quietly seething at the woman. Every night his dreams were filled with recollections of their romance; he now dreamt of Marie intermittendly – once a week. It saddened him, his love for her had been honest and Jason felt a degree of sham that he had so quickly been enticed by Nicky - almost like he was having an affair.

Technically you had an affair with Marie – Nicky came first

He groaned as he sat on the couch – there was something missing, something massive – it was right there, on the periphery, like a looming shadow that, Jason was certain, would bring nothing but pain. But it was imperative that he know – slowly the two sides of his personality were merging, Bourne and Webb, and both sides wanted the answer...it was key to everything.

Nicky knows. She has the FUCKING key!

It had become harder. Their interactions were tense with fear, frustration and lust. On more than one occasion Jason wanted to beat the shit out of her – to know, finally. The headaches had become increasingly infrequent – only 2 or 3 a week, and they now had the level of a dull thud, of pressure – or the answer, trying to push through. He could hear her hobbling around on her crutches and began to pull on some running shoes. It was too much to face her after last night's memory – he was getting closer all the time and he had never felt so reluctant and so intent in his life. They were locked in a weird limbo – too close to the other, neither able to leave, both unwilling to talk. She'd become withdrawn, as though she resented his presence – and yet he'd catch her looking at him every now and again, her eyes alight with yearning and a grief so powerful it made him want to recoil. Instead he'd stay quiet and pretend he had not noticed.

She would wake to the sounds of him thrashing around in his tiny bed, a mixture of growls and whimpers locking her frozen in place. She prayed in those moments, not that she believed in anything anymore...except for him. Begging to an unseen force – the same force that thought it fit to destroy her life; begging that he wouldn't remember, and that she wouldn't be forced to relive the anguish again. To look into his eyes: eyes that had been alight with love and passion, that had been frozen, unknowing and unrecognisable, that would once again look at her with the same horror and loathing. She'd rather he beat her first.

Slipping out the front door, Jason quickly made his way outside onto the street and began jogging quickly towards the river. He would follow it for miles, relishing the burn in his legs and chest. Here, he was Jason Bourne. Here, he was David Webb. Here, it didn't matter at all.

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I'm so so sorry I left it so long. I got better (yay!) and then I got married...well I eloped actually. Not really the big poofy dress kind of girl. Anyway you guys couldn't care less about that. Here is chapter 12 – Chapter 13 is written and shall be winging its way to you once I actually – you know – make it read like English.

Please review – they make Jason take his clothes off....