That man just wouldn't shut up.

Sam had been enduring the sounds of the man in the bed next to her complaining about every tiny thing for the last half an hour since she and Tom had returned from the balcony. Luckily the curtains were drawn around his bed, so she couldn't see his bald head with a bandage wrapped around it anymore or his protruding stomach, but the none too pleasant vocabulary coming out of his mouth was beginning to feel like someone was making a hole in her head with a pneumatic drill.

She could hear Charlie attempting to calm the man down with little success, and Tom often stuck his head through the curtains and tried reasoning with him, but nothing appeared to stem the steady flow of swear words and various other examples of vulgar language spilling from his mouth.

Sam had finally had enough. She stood up, ignored Tom's protests, and ripped back the curtains.

"Look!" Sam yelled. "I don't know who the hell you think you are or what the hell's wrong with you but some people are trying rest! So shut your oversized mouth and try and do the same!"

The man stared at her for several seconds as though she had just punched him in the face. He then resumed his torrent of foul language.

"I said SHUT IT!" Sam roared, hitting the mattress a hair's breadth from his right leg.

"You can't tell me what to do you little bitch!" He countered, grabbing her wrist and yanking over to her face as though he was going to bite her.

Sam pulled away from him easily and stepped out of grabbing range. Charlie, who had been busy preparing a sedative, rushed over and injected a milky coloured liquid into his arm. He effect was almost instant, knocking him out in mere seconds. Sam sighed with relief and sat down on the edge of her bed like a tonne of bricks, breathing deeply.

"You alright?" Tom asked, taking a seat in the chair opposite her.

"Yes…" Sam replied, her eyes closed. "Just waiting for my headache to pass."

"Sam." Charlie said from a couple of metres away. "The ED is shut after it got too full. We were wondering if you would like to go and look around, see if anything jogs your memory?"

Sam sighed. "No thanks."

As she opened her eyes she caught the tail end of a glance Tom and Charlie had shared- worry.

"Sam you're not going to get your memory back if-" Began Charlie.

"I'm not sure I want my memory back." Sam replied, before standing up and announcing she was going to the toilet.

In truth all Sam really wanted to do was get away from Charlie and Tom and into some place neither of them could follow. When she did enter she simply leant against the counter all the sinks were located on and sighed deeply, before turning around and examining her face in a nearby mirror.

At first the sight of the faint lines on her face shocked her, before she realized she was ten years older than the images she had of herself in her head. The turban- like bandage wrapped around her skull made her head look huge, and the bags under her eyes made her look older still.

The dressing on her forearms made her look as though she had just escaped a war zone. She felt tired, but not just because of the lack of sleep. The constant battle she was experiencing, fighting what her mind wanted to do was tiring her out. Her mind wanted to remember, she did not.

She didn't want images of people with their arms missing or bullet wounds in their heads playing through her mind, she didn't want the image of her mother taking her last breath, but unfortunately there was no way to remove that particular image.

"Sam? Is everything ok?"

Sam sighed. Tom. It's always Tom.

"Yes. I'm fine." Sam replied curtly. Why couldn't he just leave her alone for one minute?

"Sam can I talk to you?" Tom asked, pushing the door open and walking inside cautiously.

"Sure." Sam replied, still staring at her reflection in the mirror. In her head she ended that with 'because your going to talk to me regardless anyway'.

"Why don't you want your memories back?"

"I just don't."

"Care to be a bit more specific?"

"No."

"Sam I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

"Maybe I don't want your help."

There was a brief pause, and Sam could have sworn Tom appeared hurt my that remark, for his eyes seemed to take on a softer appearance as she stared at his reflection.

"Try and help me to understand. Either that or maybe you'd prefer to talk to Zoe."

Sam rounded on him.

"So you're threatening me now?" She snarled.

"No I-"

"Since you're so curious about why I don't want my memories I'll tell you. I don't want to remember people's heads being blown off in some war zone; I don't want to remember my mother dying. I don't want to know why I haven't spoken about my brother to any of you because something tells me it's not a good reason. I don't want to remember me pulling a trigger and killing an innocent man! I don't want to know who I've become! I'm a murderer who married someone I doubt I was ever in love with! What kind of person does that make me?"

Tom took a deep breath before replying.

"Sam. I'm going to hazard a guess and say the memories you have in your head of the first 20 years aren't all sunny days on the beach and spending time with your family. The bad things that happen in our lives, and the bad that we do, the mistakes we make and the people we fight with all define us as people as much as the good things in our lives do! We all have bad memories, we've all been embarrassed and we've all cried out eyes out, and I guarantee you there is not one person on this planet that hasn't lied at one point in their lives. It could have been something petty when you were a child or it could have been something major, it doesn't matter. Whatever you've done in the last ten years makes up as big a part of you as what you've done in the first 20. Yes, some of it will be bad. Really bad. But some of it will be good. Amazing, in fact. You saved people's lives, you got married and you survived a war zone. You're strong, Sam. Stronger than you know and I know that if you just give yourself a chance to remember you'll be able to see what an amazing person you are."

…

I hope you enjoyed Tom's little monologue at the end there!

This may be it for this weekend… I'm not sure yet!