Disclaimer: I still don't own it.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this story. I can definitely understand that chapter one is a little bit confusing and jumpy, but I was trying to write from the perspective of the main character. Things are starting to smooth out, and some explanations may be on the way- you never know. Once again, feedback is welcome and encouraged. =)

Chapter 2

She absently noted the nurse stroking her hair, as a parent would a sick child, as she once again racked her brain for answers. She could see his face so clearly: brown hair, blue eyes, and boyish grin. But there was nothing else. There was no voice and no name. She felt both joy and irritation begin to bubble through her chest when she focused in on his face. She knew that she liked him, and that she could trust him but there was something else, he way annoying, like little Bobby Thomas had been in kindergarten. Bobby Thomas? Where had that come from? She unconsciously drew her lower lip in between her teeth and began to chew lightly on the cracked flesh, until the metallic taste of blood hit her tongue. She gently pushed her lip back out of her mouth. Another tear made its way down her cheek as she struggled to sit up in the bed. She felt frail lying down in the bed, having to look up at the doctor and nurse standing over her. Sitting up she had more control.

The nurses voice had once again taken on an animated quality and she was making liberal use of the word 'we'. "We were going to go for a few tests", "we were going to have to answer a few questions" and "we will have this all figured out in no time". The injured woman let out an incredulous snort and resisted the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. 'We' weren't the ones who couldn't remember our names now were we?

She let out another puff of air as Dr. Collins' penlight flashed in her right eye, flickered off and then flashed into her left eye. She could no longer resist rolling her eyes and managed a disgruntled glare as he began to press his fingertips onto her scalp, probing them down firmly into her skull. He watched her face as he asked if she was feeling any pain.

"Well, now I am," she snarked back.

The doctor sighed and removed his hands from her pounding skull, "Okay, well there doesn't seem to be any damage, but I still want to run some tests just in case."

The woman hung her head in defeat and took a moment to note that the long hair hanging over her shoulder was blonde. She hadn't had the chance to look in a mirror since she had woken up, and while, with the bandages, bruises and overall battle worn shape of her body, she wasn't sure if she wanted to see it, she was curious what she looked like. She struggled into the waiting wheelchair and she played gently with her fingers as they pushed her down the hall towards the radiology lab. She tried to imagine what they looked like through the gauze and beyond the inflammation. Her fingernails were short, no nonsense and clean from nail polish. She sighed again. This wasn't getting any easier.

When the test results returned with no significant signs of trauma, the doctor had declared that the memory loss was "all in her head" (no pun intended) and told her that she would probably feel better after a good night sleep.

Good night sleep her ass.

She may not remember much about her life, but she was beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that she did not like doctors.

Before settling in to go to sleep, she managed to swing her legs over the edge of the bed and shuffle her way, albeit stiffly, towards the bathroom. They had finally relieved her of the catheter before heading out to run the numerous over priced tests on her head, and the need to relieve herself was becoming overwhelming. Standing at the sink, she finally worked up the courage to lift her head and look into the mirror. The sight of the woman staring back at her made her gasp. Her face was covered in a mirage of bruises and ant bites and her right eye was swollen. She bit her lip involuntarily and sucked in a small gasp of air as her fingers traced a small cut over her eyebrow. She looked like hell. Continuing her assessment, she noted that her hair was definitely not naturally blonde and given the bad die job she couldn't blame the doctor and nurse for not taking her seriously. She looked like she could be a hooker- a low grade hooker at that. Oh, God, what if she was a hooker? That would suck.

"Five dolla, no holla," she whispered wryly into the mirror before barking out a laugh at the absurdity. It sounded so strange. Hopefully she wasn't really a hooker because, chances are, she would extremely bad at it. Once she was feeling better, she would definitely have to see about dying her hair back to its normal color. The blonde thing just wasn't working for her.

Her dreams were disturbing to say the least. She was standing over a dead body but she was laughing. She wasn't laughing at the body, in fact, she felt really bad for the woman lying in the dank alley, but she was smiling. What was she smiling at? Oh, yeah, she was smiling at him. He had made a stupid comment, and she couldn't help but let the small chuckle slip before once again schooling her features. Then she was in the dark room again, with the moldy mattress and the stale air. She could barely breathe and the sliver of light leaking from under the door in the far corner was the only solace she could find. There was a way out, there had to be. And then the lights started to flash, bursts of bright white as she walked into a room and people began to scream.

And then she was back in the dark room, yelling for anyone to hear here, yanking at the doorknob, dragging her cut and swollen foot behind her. Why wasn't anyone coming?

He was next to her again, and she smiled, indulgently as he was saying something. What was he talking about? Aliens? She could feel the woman in her dreams shake her head, always with the aliens.

And then the flashing lights and screaming were back and someone was shoving a microphone into her face.

"Oh, my gosh, is that her?" They were asking, "Is that Nikki Heat?"

Nikki Heat?

She awoke with a start and jammed her finger into the call button insistently.

"Nikki," she practically yelled as the young night nurse walked into the room. "My name is Nikki Heat. "