Well, you didn't honestly think this was gonna go smoothly, did you?

Na-ah.

There needs to be mayhem. *evil laughter*

I spent the weekend in parks and on the beach. I think. I don't have a clear recollection of where I'd really been. It's more of a mental slide show of various places, and they're either park or beach. I don't remember whether I ate anything during those days, whether I was even hungry, thirsty, or tired. I don't remember sleeping, but I don't remember being awake either.

Anyway, now I'm here, and a police officer hands me a cup of coffee.

"Welcome back to reality, lad." He seems to be a nice enough guy... for a cop.

"Where was I? What did I do?" I ask. Hmmmm, the coffee smells heavenly.

"You were strolling around Port's Park when we got you. You were scaring a young mother of two. She reported a man sneaking around the playgrounds."

Oh great. Now I'm a babysnatcher in addition to a nutcase. Can I go back to mental oblivion, please? "I wouldn't hurt kids," I say.

"Guess so," he says with a warm smile. "You've been too deep into la-la-land to do much of anything."

I don't even want to start thinking about the images that provokes. "What day is it?"

"It's Tuesday... evening."

"Oh, they'll be missing me by now. Can I make a phone call?" I finally have enough of just smelling the coffee, I take a good swallow. – Aaaah! HOT!

"Careful, buddy, this is fresh from the pot."

"So I noticed. It's good, though... I guess." I give him a grin. "Well, it smells good at least. I can't tell you how it tastes, cause I just burnt the entire inside of my mouth."

"Nothing time won't heal, son." He puts his cup down onto his desk and pulls a form from a pile. "Ok, now that you're coherent, can you tell me who you are?"

I look down at my fingers. Didn't they take prints? But my fingers are clean. Well, that doesn't need to mean much. I've been out of it since Friday afternoon. – When did they pick me up?

"You've been a nice enough guest otherwise, but you gave us a bit of a fight over your prints," the officer says with a meaningful look.

Ah? Interesting. So even when I'm completely lost, my instincts work. Good to know.

"Eventually, we got them anyway," he shrugged apologetically. "They came back clean."

Face must have done something with my file, then. Or they just didn't check with the military files. Now I'm in a bit of a hard place. If I tell them my name, and they did check the military files, I'm busted. Then they'll know that somebody tinkered with them, which will lead them straight to Face. "Good to know I'm not a criminal, then, I guess," I say to buy time.

"Yeah." The cop laughs.

"You should have found me with the army, though," I say, testing the waters.

"Really? Didn't think to look there."

Okay, that answers that. "Captain Murdock," I introduce myself. "I live over at the Westwood VA." Suddenly that embarrasses me. "I..." I gotta clear my throat. "I had a pass for the weekend, then something..." I dropped my head. The events of the afternoon come back full force, and as I look down, I see the t-shirt Face has got me. If only I could rip it off this instant! But I can't do that, because they already know I'm weird, and I don't want them to think I have violence issues on top of that. Especially with that mother's report looming over me.

"I'll call for somebody to get you there," the cop says, nods and walks over to the phone.

I'm dying to call Hannibal. I know that by now he must be reeling with worry. I've been AWOL for four days. BA is surely walking holes into some carpet, and Face...

"Can I make a phone call?" I have to call before they cart me off to the VA.

The officer is a really, really nice guy, and hands me the phone.

"Herbie's Auto Shop," Hannibal sounds sick and hopeful at the same time. It makes my stomach tie into a knot with guilt.

"Hi, it's me," I say. "I'm so sorry I missed you this weekend, but my... I lost myself a bit on the way." It sounds awful when I say it like that, but it's all I can say with somebody listening, and after all, it's what happened.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yes. Yes, I think. I'm at a police station, but don't worry, everything's fine." Hannibal should get the message. "They'll get me back to the VA now, and I'll be out of touch for a while then. They always confiscate my phone when I stay out past curfew. But I'll be alright."

"What did Face do?!" Now that it's clear I'm fine, Hannibal is full of rage. It's the logical deduction - for him - that it was something Face did. Normally Face wouldn't just abandon me when I get strange. He never has before. So it's just logical to put the blame on him. Only this time, it was my fault entirely.

"Nothing. Really, he's done nothing wrong. It's been me. Just me." And just because I can't take it anymore, and because I know that Hannibal will bombard me with questions if I stay on the line, I say, "gotta quit", and drop the receiver. "Thanks," I tell the officer, and then they already come; two uniforms who take me back home.

TBC