Of all the days.
His mind had been feeling particularly stripped as of late, so the timing for this one was impeccable.
Of all the cases.
As if I need any more cruel reminders.
This one just had to practically walk into his office.
Didn't it?
John scoffed.
Typical.
The good part was that it looked like it was going to be an open and shut case. Easy.
At least, that's how it had seemed at the beginning.
"They're stealing memories." He'd tried to let Maldonado's words slide right off his back like everyone else, but he couldn't suppress the slight wince.
He pretended not to see Dorian eye him from off to the side and cleared his throat. "So, they're scrubbers." Big deal.
"Not quite." Maldonado pursed her lips, nodding toward the screen. "Targets begin to experience memory loss within 24 hours of making contact with the substance that was found in their bloodstream. Unlike scrubbers, these attacks are neither consensual nor monetized."
Valerie took a moment to add her two cents, pointing out the images popping up on the screen. "Two of the targets are high profiles. Politicians."
"What about the third?" Dorian tilted his head and for a moment, John simply stood and watched the light show. Whatever was going on, they would solve it and solve it fast.
The sooner the better.
A flash of Anna assaulted his mind and he brushed her away.
Not now.
"That's where it gets confusing." Furrowing her brows, Stahl pulled up a third photo. "Our last subject is simple janitor."
Anna's presence weighed on the back of his mind, trying to break into the forefront, so he figured it was about time he added his own two cents to the briefing. "The politicians make sense. I mean, who wouldn't want to steal a few government secrets if they had the chance? But that guy?"
Maldonado pulled him out of his memories—or lack thereof—with a shake of her head. "The hospital has had three reported cases of 'selective amnesia' in less than a week. That's no coincidence."
"And," Stahl added, pointing once more, "all three work in the same government building."
John nodded, expression grin. "So, we have a case of serial scrubbers, then." Clasping his hands together, he turned to Dorian. "So, we review the security footage and we find the common denominator. Find that one person they all talked to."
"Or brushed up against." He raised a brow at Dorian. "As far as we know, the substance can only be transmitted via touch."
"Okay." Heaving a sigh, John said, "Well, maybe this just got a whole lot harder, but at least we have a starting place."
"Right." Maldonado nodded. "Get me that footage. Stahl, I want you to take a trip to the hospital. See what the victims can actually remember. Kennex, my office. Now."
Sure.
He knew what she was going to say before he even closed the door. If he had been feeling petty that morning, he would've mouthed it along with her.
"I'll understand if you want off this case."
John tried his damnedest to remain passive. "Why would I want off this case?"
Sandra pursed her lips, taking a moment to study him. "All right, John, we don't have time to beat around the bush. Considering your history, this could be a potentially tough case for you."
That's when he brought out his best reassuring grin. "I'll be fine, Sandra. Trust me. I honestly haven't really given it a second thought."
Liar. And why did that sound like Anna?
"I trust you, do you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you trust you, John? If you commit to this, I'll need you at your best. I'll need everyone at their best. No one would say anything if you chose to sit this one out."
"Yeah," he said, sucking in a breath and muttering, "they would. Listen, I'll be fine. I'm going to go take a look at that footage."
"As long as you're sure."
A smile followed by a nod was the only response he gave her before ducking out.
Just don't think about it.
Right. Don't think about what you can't even remember you can't think about anymore.
Because it's not there.
The memories were gone and he didn't have time to mourn them right now.
He and Dorian were stuck reviewing footage the rest of that day, going through a week's worth of surveillance in one afternoon. Or, trying to, at least.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" John asked with a stretch, glancing at his partner just to give his eyes a break from the screen.
Dorian's own eyes remained fixed on the footage, scanning faster than John's human eyes ever could. "That they all knew the same thing? Something someone out there wants to keep hidden?"
"Bingo." With one last stretch, John shifted in his chair, resigning himself to another hour of watching people walk back and forth. "Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."
They usually seemed to be these days, not that John minded, of course. It was a nice change of pace to have someone support his ideas rather than shove fiercely against them.
Looking at you, there, Paul.
It had all started off so easy. Confusing as hell, sure, and more than a little dull at times, but easier than usual.
If John had to pinpoint the exact moment everything went wrong, it was probably when they were bringing the footage back to the precinct. That moment by the first floor stairs of the government building. Or the third floor stairs… Or maybe it had actually been when they'd left the building… Yeah, that moment on the sidewalk…
In all honesty, he really couldn't remember.
You bumped into a few people, he told himself later that evening as he sat trying to concentrate on Stahl's debriefing. It could've been anyone.
No, they bumped into me. I had nothing to do with—
"John?" That was Maldonado. Hear that? Shut up. He glanced up, ignoring the way her brows dipped ever so slightly. Dipped in worry. For you, idiot. Now look what you've—
What? What had he done to warrant this suffocating of a silence?
"What?" He tried to make his voice sound natural and not completely caught off-guard, but the look on Dorian's face told him he wasn't doing a very good job.
Maldonado's brows lifted now. Expectation. Right. He mentally ticked through the last five minutes of conversation as she asked, "Well? Did you?"
Last he checked, Valerie was still giving her spiel about the hospital. None of the victims remembered the memories they'd lost—of course, they didn't—but they did recall most of the major facts of their lives. Naturally, this was going to make figuring out what memories had been swiped a whole lot harder because it was almost as if the victims hadn't lost anything at all.
And yet, they know. They know they don't have all the memories they used to. They can feel the absence…
"Did I what?" John crossed his arms. If everyone would stop staring at him, that would be lovely.
"Find them?"
"… Them?"
"The common denominator." Her brows dipped again.
Cool. Play it cool… Because, no, she hadn't said anything about that.
Or maybe she did and you just can't re—
Shut. Up.
"Oh! No, yeah," he replied, waving a dismissive hand. "Sorry, I must've zoned out for a second. It's crazy what staring at a screen all day'll do to you. But no, not yet. We found one guy who brushed up against two of our victims, but not the third." He didn't even have to nod at Dorian, who was already pulling up the video footage. "We probably looked at hundreds of hours of footage between all those cameras and we haven't even scratched the surface."
Though her tone told him she was moving on, the eyebrows said otherwise. The trace of concern remained whether he liked it or not.
You're just tired and bloodshot from working your eyes like that all day.
Nothing to worry about…
"All right. If we're going to move this along with any sort of efficiency, we're going to need every set of eyes we can get to go over that footage. That's top priority tomorrow, but right now—"
Stahl's phone pierced the air with a shrill ring. As she took the call, John felt his partner's gaze fall upon him.
Studying.
Scrutinizing.
Analyzing.
Before John could flash his best I'm fine, back off glare, Valerie cut the call, her expression speaking volumes.
"I'd told the hospital to report any new cases of amnesia. They just received two."
Damn.
An electric buzz filled the room.
"Same workplace?" Maldonado asked.
"The first, yes." Stahl shook her head. "But the second is a stay-at-home mom from the upper west side with no obvious connections to any of this."
Like he'd said: confusing as hell. And definitely not easy in the slightest.
So much for open and shut.
"All right." John could practically see Maldonado switch gears, her mind shifting into overdrive. "Here's what we're going to do: I still want teams to review that footage, but I also want a sample of that substance to get to Rudy. I want it analyzed by tomorrow morning." She turned to Stahl. "And I'll need you to check in with the new patients. We're on a time crunch now, people. Those two new cases better be the last."
With Dorian making his home in the lab these days, the best course of action seemed to be making a trip to the hospital so they could drop the substance and Dorian back at the lab. It made for an extended shift, but if John was being honest with himself, he would work 24/7 if it meant wrapping up this case up as soon as possible.
Maldonado had asked him that question, of that he was certain now, and somehow he'd missed it. When he thought back, no matter how hard he wracked his brain, that patch of the conversation came up blank. He couldn't find even the slightest trace of it.
How long had he been zoned out?
"Are you all right, John?" Dorian's soft tones shattered his thoughts.
"What? Because of what happened back in the bullpen?"
"You zoned out."
Did I?
Did I really?
You did. Stop second-guessing yourself.
Yeah, but—
"Look," and John gave his eyes a small roll for emphasis, "I know that's not something androids have to deal with, but believe it or not, sometimes humans lose focus. Our minds drift and we lose our concentration. That's all."
Though he didn't appear to be convinced, Dorian dropped the subject.
Thank God.
John left for home that night with promises from Rudy to have the analyzed data ready by morning, along with one last stare from his partner.
"I'm fine," he pressed, throwing a smile in there for good measure. "So you can stop looking at me like I just grew a second head. After today, I just need some sleep. See you tomorrow."
It had started off small like that. Zoning out in conversation. Going into his tiny kitchen and forgetting what he had gone in there for—but who doesn't do that? Leaving the TV on before bed and waking up in the middle of the night swearing he'd remembered to turn it off.
Just get some rest.
Right. He rolled his eyes and readjusted the bedcovers. Because that's certainly not what I've been trying to do all night.
He couldn't recall falling asleep again, but he remembered waking up. The shrill ringing in his ears wasn't something he could easily forget.
Groping for his phone, John worked to blink the sleep out of his eyes.
Wake up, John. Come on.
"Kennex," he greeted whoever was calling him at this hour, barely swallowing a yawn in time.
"John! Where are you?"
The voice was familiar, he knew that much. Sandra. Something in the back of his mind whispered the name.
That sounded right.
She didn't even give him time to reply—and that sounded right, too.
"Any particular reason why you decided to take a sick day and not call it in?"
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday… He mentally ticked through the week. No, it wasn't Saturday, so yes, by all accounts he shouldn't be home…
Right?
"I'm on my way now." Where, he couldn't say. His brain wasn't very forthcoming with that bit of information.
"No, you're not. Dorian says you're still at home. By the sound of your voice, I'd hazard a guess you're still in bed."
"My alarm didn't go off." It sounded just as lame coming out of his mouth as it had in his head, but she didn't need to know he'd shut the damn thing off twenty minutes ago and pulled a pillow over his head.
Because he couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd set it for in the first place.
"Just get down here, John." The exasperation in her voice was palpable. "We've got a lot of work to do on this case and I need everyone ready and accounted for, got it?"
"Aye-aye, Captain."
Captain. Right. She was the captain and he was the detective.
Right. Right…
Swinging out of bed, he attached his leg, his fingers flying over the screen of his phone for another call.
Come on, come on, come—
The recipient picked up on the second ring.
"Dorian?"
"John? What are you doing? Everyone's—"
"I'm fine, and I'm on my way. Listen, I need you to run back over your personal cam footage. Everywhere we went yesterday, everyone we interacted with—especially around the time we were going over the surveillance—I need to see."
"You think someone brushed up against you?"
John didn't even try to suppress his shiver at the thought. He might not have remembered to wake up and get down to the station that morning, but he did remember that.
"Just do it, all right? It's important."
"John." And there was that soft tone again, the one that made the beating in John's chest a little less intense. "What happened?"
He took a breath, forcing himself not to hold it. Forcing his lungs to keep working. "I don't know. I…" He shook his head. "We need to step on it with this case. Did Rudy analyze that sample?"
"He's just finishing up with it now."
"Great. I'll be there in—"
The blank nearly took his breath away. The gaping hole in his memory was too wide to jump across and too deep to explore.
And it was too familiar. He'd come across this problem before, pitch black gaps in his mind that taunted him with their lack of information.
"John…?"
Dorian.
John took a breath, his heart doing nothing to keep from racing down the road toward cardiac arrest.
Dorian was a constant.
Dorian, Sandra, Valerie… Even Paul. The names were all still there and so were the faces in his mind's eye. The case was there, too. The victims, the footage, the transferable substance. Everything.
Everything, except…
"Uh, Dorian…?" John felt his grip tighten on the phone. "This is gonna sound insanely stupid, but I need you to send me the precinct's address."
His partner didn't ask questions, he simply gave an affirmative and told John to drive safe.
Because the cruel truth had already dawned on them: whatever was driving patients to seek medical help… whatever was causing all the memory loss now coursed through John's veins.
He bit out a curse after hanging up.
Hadn't he lost enough memories already?
How much more can they take away from me…?