Chapter 2: Memory's a Bitch
Charlie awoke with a start. He found himself alone, for the moment; sitting in some kind of metal chair with blinders attached its head at the sides. This gave him a very narrow line of sight, much to Charlie's annoyance. From what he could see, he noticed his button-up shirt; suit coat and tie had all been removed, leaving him in his black undershirt. He tried to lift his arms and move his feet, but didn't have much luck. They had strapped him down with hose leather cuffs you'd see on mental patients to prevent them from hurting themselves. When he tried to pull away from the chair, he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
Charlie grimaced from the pain and saw a wire coming out of his chest of the corner of his eyes. 'Damn, that probably means they've put an IV in me, injecting God knows what,' Charlie thought. From what he could see, which was limited due to the metal blinders, he was in some sort of laboratory.
"You're finally awake. You are quite the heavy sleeper," Stated a creepy voice to Charlie's left.
"Who are you and what do you what from me?" Charlie asked the old man with the creepy voice, as he came into view.
"I'm your doctor and like my colleagues told you earlier, we're here to help you with a special condition you have," the creepy man answered.
Charlie gave this "doctor" a suspicious look. This doctor, as he called himself, creped Charlie out even more than that "monster" that impregnated him a couple of weeks ago. "What condition? Was I treated with an experimental drug called Cortexiphan?"
"Since I don't know what Cortexiphan is, I can't answer that question. However, the condition to which I was referring to is your being a class 9 hyper-accelerated protein life-form," The doctor answered while grabbing a clip-board from the nearest table.
"Last I checked, I was a human being a.k.a. Homo Sapien," Charlie retorted.
"Oh, I'm afraid you've been misinformed than Agent Francis; probably for what they thought was your own best interests," the man said with a slight sly smile on his face.
'Wait, did he just call me Agent Francis? These guys know exactly who I am, yet clam to not know what Cortexiphan is? What the hell is going on? Who the hell are these guys' Charlie thought to himself.
"You know we're on to you guys. If my colleagues find me before I escape, you'll be in a Federal prison in no time," Charlie threatened.
"Oh, you think you can threaten us? I'm quite sure you and your colleagues at the Bureau have no idea who we are," the creepy doctor laughed.
"What makes you so sure?" Francis asked trying to sound unconvinced.
"Because, we're not ZFT," the doctor told Charlie as two more people entered the lab.
"Then who the hell are you?" Charlie asked again this time with a raised voice. What control he usually retained over his emotions was beginning to fade as he realized what little control over his situation he actually had. He'd been in some pretty rough situation before, but this topped them all, even with all "The Pattern" cases he had investigated. If this eerie doctor, was telling the truth and these guys weren't ZFT, which meant there was a potentially worse threat than even ZFT and that was bad news.
"As for who we are, I'll leave that for you to discover yourself. Now, have you noticed anything strange happening to you lately; things such as favorite foods or coffee drinks tasting bad all of the sudden or a heightened sense of smell?" the eerie doctor asked, clipboard and pen in hand.
"No. Why?" Charlie asked with a puzzled look on his face. His capture and detainment was turning out to be nothing like Liv had described to him when she was captured & detained by ZFT. 'Perhaps this wacko doctor was telling the truth when he said they weren't ZFT,' Charlie thought to himself.
"Interesting, I would have expected your major metaphoric phase would have begun by now. But, I suppose that as with humans, your kind would have an age range in which you reach full maturity. I wonder if we could successfully, induce it? Get the serum ready," the old man told the two lab assistants, as he wrote some notes down.
When Charlie heard the doctor's orders to the lab assistants, his heart skipped a beat and drops of sweat started dripping down his face. He really didn't have much useful information on his captors or why they had taken him specifically; only that they clamed they weren't ZFT and he was a class 9 hyper-accelerated protein life-form what ever the hell that meant.
"The serum's ready sir," the female lab assistant said, as she handed her boss the needle.
"Good, prepare Mr. Francis for the injection," he ordered as he put the clipboard down on the table and walked over to Charlie's right side. The lab assistant wiped Charlie's arm down and tied some rubber just above his elbow.
"You are in for one rude awakening," the doctor told Charlie as he injected the serum.
Charlie grasped as the serum hit his bloodstream. He felt an initial rush that quickly subsided as the anesthetic mixed in with the serum started to kick in. Shortly afterwards he again passed out.
Once they were sure Charlie was out cold, the doctor ordered the assistants to get Charlie fully dressed as if none of this had ever happened, ready to take him back near his car at the park. The assistants did as they were told, no questions asked. They loaded Charlie into the back of a white van, dropped him off near his car, and drove off.
Unbeknownst to the assistants, a gray haired man of medium height and build had been taking an evening walk in the park and seen the whole thing. The man, assuming Charlie was unconscious, walked up to him and gently shook him, attempting to wake him up. The man also placed some kind of business card in the breast pocket of Charlie's suit coat.
"Hey, wake up," the gray haired man said as he shook Charlie a little harder, getting him to stir.
Charlie opened his eyes slowly and stared off into space for a couple of seconds as he let his eyes re-focus. He put a hand on his forehead and grumbled. He had a splitting headache and couldn't remember how he'd gotten himself in his current situation. The last thing he remembered was talking to his brother on the phone.
"Hey, are you alright? I found you unconscious," the man asked him with a concerned look.
"Not really sure right now. To tell you the truth, I don't remember how I got here," Charlie told the man, a worried look in his eyes.
"Well, I saw some people take you out of a white van and place you here. I'm Gregory Magnus, by the way," Gregory answered back.
Gregory's answer triggered something in Charlie's mind. The headache was beginning to fade as he started to remember how could have gotten here. He saw the creepy doctor inject some sort of serum into him and tell him he "was in for one rude awakening". Shivers ran through his body as the flashes of memory came. Charlie was brought back into reality by the ringing of his cell phone. It was his wife Sonia, asking if he would be home soon. He told her he had a really long day at work and would be home in about ten minutes.
Gregory watched as Charlie drove off after having told him "Thank you." Considering his experience with The Cabal and Helen telling him about a young werewolf both James and her had to give to an adoption agency, he suspected that van was The Cabal's and the man might very well be the werewolf Helen told him about. That's why Gregory placed a Sanctuary business card in the man's breast pocket. He'd hopped in case his suspicions were correct, that he would contact Helen by dialing the number provided on the card. "I've done what I can," he murmured to himself as he continued on his evening walk.
~Francis Residence~
Charlie sat in his car parked in the garage. The evening's events had left him a little on edge despite his fatigued state. What exactly had happened? He still wasn't sure. He had a ton of questions that he wanted, no needed answered, but he knew he needed to get at least some sleep tonight before having to do something similar all over again tomorrow.
Charlie took the keys out of the ignition, got out of the car and walked into the living room. He put his suit coat on the coat rack by the front door, slid his black dress shoes off, and managed to make it to the couch before needing to sit. He felt as if almost all his energy had been drained, and it had been quite a task just to get back home and even in the house! Charlie gathered enough energy to lift his legs & feet onto the couch. He stared off into space for a while, before finally drifting off to sleep.
Charlie found himself running through a dense forest and this wasn't like when young boys go off exploring forests, starting fires. No, it was as if he were a wild child, untamed by civilization at all: as if he were meant to be raised there in the first place. He could feel the mud between his toes as his bare feet touched the forest ground. He felt the moisture in the air as it was about to rain. He felt the chilling wind pick up, carrying with it the smell of fresh pine and . . . "Oh my God!" Charlie said to himself as he woke, wide eyed, realizing the other smell was fresh blood. His heart was beating rapidly and sweat was pouring down his face. There was no way in hell he was getting any more sleep anytime soon. Fortunately, his cell phone rang. "Francis," Charlie answered. It was Olivia Dunham, his spunky supervisee at the Bureau, asking him if he was okay and where he was. Charlie checked his watch. It was 9:30 am and it wasn't like him to be late. He told her he had a rough night that he'd rather not talk about over the phone and he was on his way to work now.~Boston Federal Building~
Charlie found Olivia and asked to speak with her privately in his office.
"You look like hell. What happened?" Olivia asked him.
"First off, I'd appreciate if everything said here, stays in this office, unless I say so," Charlie requested.
"Alright, fair enough," Olivia answered, respecting his request, for the time being. He had done her multiple favors in the past few months the least she could do was return this one.
"Thank you. Now, did Broyles tell you about British Intelligence thinking there's a connection between the still un-solved "Jack the Ripper" case & "The Pattern"?" Charlie asked her while sipping his morning coffee. That smell of fresh blood from his nightmare last evening was still lingering, and he wanted it gone!
"Yeah, but why does that need to be confidential and what's the connection?" Olivia asked, confused.
"It's more what I'm about to say. Because, you were meeting with William Bell, he put me on the case. Now, my instincts tell me there is no connection and the more I take into account the events of yesterday, the more I think someone is baiting me," Charlie speculated.
"Why would ZFT want to bait you? It doesn't make any sense," Olivia interrupted.
"Would you quit interrupting people?" Charlie shot back.
"Gee, someone's grumpy this morning," Olivia answered back.
"Sorry, my world's been turned upside-down since yesterday and I have to wonder if whoever's doing the turning isn't done yet. What's even scarier is, I'm not so sure its ZFT," Charlie told her, his head down. Damn, he was tried!
"Well if it isn't ZFT, then who?" Olivia inquired.
"I don't know. Some of what I'm about to say is going to sound crazy especially considering it's coming from me. After Broyles handed me the Ripper file, I went back to my desk & noticed another file had been placed there. It turned out to be my file, but the un-doctored version. According to it, I was adopted. Before I went home for the evening, I called my older brother and he verified the information.
Now, here's where things get even uglier. I was about ten minutes from, when I get cut off & forced to pull over by the nearest park. It was clear someone was after me, and I wasn't about to let myself get captured. However, they shot me with two tranquilizer guns and next thing I know, I'm bound to a metal chair with some psycho-creepy doctor injecting me with who the hell knows what," Charlie informed Olivia as he paused for air.
"No spinal tap?" Olivia asked.
"Nope, no spinal tap. But, he did claim to have no idea what Cortexiphan was and that they weren't ZFT," Charlie answered.
"He knew about ZFT but not Cortexiphan?" Olivia asked, somewhat puzzled.
"So he says, but with no spinal tap, I'm inclined to think he's telling the truth. Also, they let me go, well more like placed me by my car fully dressed as if the whole thing never happened. It got even stranger when I got home and finally fell asleep. I had the strangest dream and it didn't even feel like a dream at all. It felt more like a repressed memory trying to resurface and think it may have had something to do with whatever that creep injected me with," Charlie explained some more.
"Okay, now you're starting to sound like me," Olivia said surprised.
"You know, a little support here would be nice," Charlie shot back, taking Olivia's comment as an insult.
"Sorry, you're right. You're just not sounding like yourself," Olivia said, apologizing.
"I know and the fact that I'm even about to say I'd like Dr. Bishop's help scares me. Than again, that other doctor makes Bishop seem pale by comparison," Charlie stated.
Olivia looked at him completely stunned. Charlie rarely, if ever, admitted to being scared and she certainly hadn't expected those words to come out of his mouth.
"Remember after I was attacked by that man-made creature, Bishop offered to hypnotize me?" Charlie asked.
"You want Walter to hypnotize you because of this dream you had?" She asked him with cocked eyebrows.
"Yeah, I know, it sounds completely uncharacteristic of me, but this dream, if it was in fact only a dream, was too vivid! It felt too real!" Charlie exclaimed, his head heavy from the weight of what was happening to him.
"Well, what was it about?" Olivia asked him.
"Of the dreams I remember, which aren't many, they typically don't involve running around bare foot in a forest and a strong smell of fresh blood, okay! Look, that doctor injected something into me and I want to find out what it is and what it's doing to me!" Charlie exclaimed again, this time looking straight into Olivia's eyes; his own pleading for help.
"Okay, claim down," Olivia said, trying to reassure him that things were going to be just fine.
Charlie sighed. He was acting very out of character and he feared it would interfere with his ability to do his job. "I think I should take some time off; at least until I figure out what the hell in going on."
"And what if we need you?"
"Right now, I'm not sure whether I can do my job or not and if I'm not sure than I need some time away from all this. Plus, I don't need Broyles worried about my sanity as well," Charlie told her.
"That would not be good. Can you guess how long you'll need?"
"At least a week," Charlie answered as he walked out the door to go speak with Broyles. While grabbing his cell phone out of his breast pocket, he noticed a business card was placed in there:
Sanctuary For All
Dr. Helen Magnus
M.D. D.T.C.X.B
'Sanctuary For All? Sanctuary for what? Wait . . . Magnus. That's the name of that guy that woke me up! Gregory Magnus, I think he said his name was. He must have placed the card in my pocket. The man did seem genuinely concerned about my well being when he found me. Perhaps this Helen person and him know more about what happened to me?' Charlie thought to himself. After Okaying a week of leave with Broyles, Charlie found Olivia again and told her he still wanted Dr. Bishop's help.
"Okay, I'll tell him you're coming," Olivia told him.
"Thanks," Charlie said and headed to Walter's lab on Harvard University campus.
~Harvard University, Dr. Bishop's Lab~
"Here goes nothing," Charlie sighed, mostly to himself, as he entered the old university building.
"Agent Francis," Dr. Walter Bishop greeted.
"Dr. Bishop," Charlie greeted in return.
"Please, call me Walter. I hear you need help deciphering a dream," The middle aged doctor inquired.
"Ok then, Walter yes, is it possible for a memory to resurface as a dream?" Charlie asked.
"Why yes, is that what this dream felt like?" Walter excitedly inquired.
"Yes, and I get the feeling more are coming," Charlie answered.
"Than, I suppose we'd better get to work," Walter stated, turning to some notes.
"I believe we may be of great assistance," a male voice with a British accent offered.
"Excuse me? Who are you?" A young brown-haired, blue eyed, Peter Bishop asked.
"We mean no harm. I'm Dr. James Watson and these are my assistants: Duncan Wilson and Henry Foss. May we come in?" Dr. Watson answered, pointing to each individual as he mentioned their names.
"Wait, my file said that you dropped me off at the adoption agency," Charlie stated while pointing at Duncan. There was something oddly familiar about both him and this Watson guy.
"Actually, we both did, but only Duncan is mentioned," James clarified.
James' clarification gave Charlie a feeling of nausea and he needed to sit down. His sense of smell was going crazy, as if it was turning more acute than usual. "Ahhh!" he screamed as he felt his insides start to change.
"Oh dear God! Get the sedative ready," Watson instructed Duncan. "Here, hold him down," James told the others. "We'll help you get through this, we promise," James told Charlie before he passed out.