A/N: Heyyyy so kudos to me for getting super distracted with a new story to forgetting my promise to update this one! HA! So here ya go, thanks go out to all of you that reviewed! This chapter is a little shorter, but it was actually one LONNNG chapter that wasn't quite finished but I wanted to post SOMETHING for y'all so here it is!


"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be."- Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night (1961)

Emily's heart started to race. The doctor, whoever he was, had called her Emily… In front of Ian! There had to be a way to salvage this, Clyde would KILL her if she blew her cover so stupidly. Had she said something in her sleep? How long had she been out? Had she missed the check-in with Tsia? What the fuck happened to her? Everything hurt. Her hips, her head, oh god, her head hurt.

She tried to form a coherent sentence from the chaos that was filtering through her brain.

Fuck. What language? Again the thought "Where Am I?" filtered through her mind. The doctor had spoken English, but her last known location was in Sicily. She and Ian had made another trip from the Villa down there. But, the only time she'd seen a doctor had been in Palermo for food poisoning and the doctor Ian had taken her to had not spoken a lick of English or French, only Italian. This doctor spoke English perfectly with no discernible accent.

She looked around her room trying to decipher and numbers she saw through her hazy view. Not metric. They were in the United States? So she threw caution to the wind and prayed her lie would be believable enough.

"Umm, I think there is a mix up… My name is Lauren Reynolds…?" She croaked out. Wow, her throat was hoarse and sore. Breathing and trying force sound to come out was a painful act, her lungs felt like they'd been punctured with steel spikes.

She looked over at Ian again. He looked… stunned. But not by what the doctor had called her. His hands were covering his nose and mouth, elbows on his knees. He looked at her with bewilderment at her calling herself Lauren.

He cleared his throat and asked if he could speak to the doctor in private for a moment.

She instantly began to panic. No, her cover couldn't be blown! Not now… She'd worked so hard, and yet done so very little. Ian had been easy to fall in love with. Too easy to love, that at one point, it had become real to her.

"No, Ian!" She tried to cry, but had come out more like a throaty whisper. "Don't leave me alone!" She pleaded in French, reaching out for him.

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "Je ne vais pas n'importe où, mon cher."

She nodded and watched as he and the doctor stepped outside to speak privately.


Ian sighed as he and the doctor stepped out of the room. This was bad, so bad... He waited for the obvious question, why is she calling herself Lauren Reynolds?

"Mr. O'Reilly, do you know a Lauren Reynolds?" The doctor asked, quizzical expression imprinted on his round face.

Ian grunted a little, "Uh, yes… That was her name 8 years ago when I met her… She's had it legally changed for 7… What's wrong with her? Why is she not saying her real name?" He asked with concern, although he pretty much knew the answer.

"I see… Well, I need to ask her a few more questions, but my opinion? Post-Traumatic Amnesia. It's very common in patients who have suffered severe head injuries such as hers."

Ian closed his eyes. Yep, he'd been right, fucking Amnesia… "How long will it last?" He forced himself to ask.

"It's difficult to say, really it depends on the severity of the injury, shortest time frame could be hours, longest? Months." The doctor said, shrugging.

"Are there any… other side effects?" Ian asked crossing his arms in front of him.

"Mentally and emotionally there are a few, She may go through Behavioral changes such as being quiet and passive, or aggressive, abusive and agitated. And even though she will be fully awake during these changes after the amnesia wears off she may not remember acting out of character or inappropriately. You will need to be VERY patient and understanding, and do not take any challenges she may present personally. Physically, she may highly distractactable, have difficulty with thinking, memory and concentration." The doctor said nodding his head seriously.

Ian looked down at his shoes, nodding in response, like their relationship wasn't volatile and unhealthy enough, this was just the fucking cherry on top.

"What about…? What should I—what should I tell her about our son?" He managed to spit out.

The doctor sighed, frowning. "Depends… We first need to see how far her memory is damaged. See who she recognizes. Obviously she recognized you, but it's possible she won't remember your children. But, with any normal patient I would say bring it up as soon as possible so they don't notice on their own, but with patients suffering from PTA too much stimulation during this time can increase the person's level of confusion and distress. Let's just go back in, I'll ask her some more questions and we'll see how severe the trauma seems to be; See if she can remember anything at all from recent events before the accident."

Ian nodded and with a silent Hail Mary, followed the doctor back into the room.

Emily lifted her head up as they walked in. She was in pain, he could tell. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take away her pain. Deep inside, something evil stirred in him. A fiery hot anger bubbled to the surface, he wanted vengeance. Even though technically he already had…

The morning before Landen's life support had been terminated he'd casually found the driver, 2 floors down, drunk with a blood alcohol content enough to get a fucking elephant wasted. Also found out the bastard had a couple outstanding warrants and was a convicted sex offender. Also on life support… Needless to say that somehow the ventilator got unplugged. The man responsible for hurting his family was no longer walking this earth. Ian had made a pact with God that morning, that he would sin no more. That if he never killed anyone again, God would take Landen and keep him in heaven, that the son would not be punished for the sins of his father.

Still, the anger was still fresh when he saw the pain she was in. The doctor pulled up a stool and Ian sank into the chair he had been in. He rubbed his temple. Emily still looked nervous. He knew why, the doctor had called her Emily in front of him. She was worried her cover was blown, she knew herself as Emily of course, but she would stick to the identity of Lauren as if her life depended on it, because at one time… it would have.

"Ahem, Okay." The doctor began. "Can you tell me your full name?" Emily responded with machine gun speed. These questions well rehearsed for an INTERPOL spy.

"Lauren Mariah Reynolds." The doctor scribbled something down on his clipboard.

"Okay, Lauren… Do you know what year this is?"

"2004."

"Hmm… Do you know where you are?" He asked twerking a bushy eyebrow at her. Ian sat up a little straighter. When he and "Lauren" had lived together, they had primarily lived in Italy. But they also had stayed at his mansion in Ireland, and had briefly stayed at the loft he had in Moscow.

This is where she faltered. She had no idea most likely. She had probably already deduced that they were not in Italy.

"Uhhm, well…" She chewed on her lower lip, a classic Emily trait.

"It's okay Em-Lauren, sorry, just tell me what you last remembered." The doctor said.

"We were in Italy, right?" She said looking over at Ian.

"Lauren, don't look to him Honey. I need you to tell me what YOU remember." The doctor said patting her hand. Ian bit his cheek to keep from getting annoyed that the doctor was putting her on the spot so much. She was clearly in pain and putting pressure on her was probably not helping her discomfort, only adding to it.

"Sorry," she said, turning a little red. "Well, I think we were in Italy, in Sicily." She said quietly.

The doctor scribbled some more on her chart, before sighing.

"Okay, Lauren. You were in an accident. A very, very bad accident. You are quite lucky to be alive, you understand? This is 2012. You are in Indiana, the United States. Your children—"

"Oh my God! Declan!" Emily cried out, tears springing to her eyes. Ian sat up grabbing her hand.

"Shh, Love… It's—"

"Ian! I am SO, SO Sorry! I didn't mean to! I Swear it wasn't my—" She was in a full fledged panic attack. She understood how much he loved Declan, and she thought he held her responsible.

"LAUREN!" He spoke a little louder, more firmly. Instantly she shut-up. She knew that voice, the "I'm in charge, don't fuck with me" voice.

"Listen to me Love, Declan is fine. He is okay. I know it was an accident, Darling." He said stroking her raven hair, trying to calm her. This was part of he loved her. She cared more about Declan's safety than the fact that she could have died.

The doctor had stood, watching warily ready to call in a nurse with a sedative.

Slowly, her tears subsided, she gripped his hand so tightly he thought for sure it would break. After she had calmed down a little, she sniffled and said, "Wait a minute, Ian, he said children… Oh my god. I lost the baby!"

Ian froze.

"What baby?" he asked voice so calm, there would be no doubt something bad was about to happen.