SquidgeWorld Archive

Just. Get. Out.

Smashing up Government property was not really an option, nor telling self-righteous directors exactly where to shove their opinions. It wasn't right to doubt Lou, to wonder what could possibly possess her to order 'shoot-to-kill'. It would have made sense if only it hadn't been Jake.

Jake. His friend, his protégée. The man who had shot him for the sake of both their lives, and had shoved him onto a bridge before falling straight over the side. The last had hurt more, he admitted, hurt deep inside him where the NSA had left a tiny element of humanity.

He was a bitter old man, and he didn't really care.

All his care had plummeted into a river with one man, and now all he was left with was a sour taste in his mouth and the desire to lock himself away and never emerge. He was aware that these feelings were vaguely unhealthy, but it didn't concern him.

He had been sitting in the car for ten minutes now, just staring. None of it made any sense. Jake would have told him if something was wrong, would've said something. And then they would've got drunk at the Lincoln Memorial and Kyle would have made some joke about Diane, and the whole world would have settled.

Yet no, Jake had run away to play hacker with DuMont, and the bastard had shot at him, so he'd run again. Then, the bridge...Jake bleeding, telling 'Duarte' to stay away. His eyes were scared, telling Kyle he wouldn't go back, and then just...falling.

Something struck. The wisps of memory wound together, and Kyle slammed his hands on the steering wheel, eyes wide. Duarte. Jake had never called him that, never used that name even in their most heated moments. And the voice - as harsh as he'd been with the Wolfpack, all edges and an absence of emotion. It wasn't Jake, it couldn't be. Another man, perhaps, a clone...no, that was absurd, some science fiction fantasy. Kyle would have to just accept - Jake had lied, Jake hated him.

No! He started the engine without thinking, and pulled out of the parking lot with a roar. Jake had called him 'Duarte', rolled the word as if it were unfamiliar, just the name of some guy...an NSA agent in a jacket...with his name on...

Jake had read his name! But that made no sense, why would Jake need to read it? He knew Kyle well enough, had spent days on end with him. Mexico, Fort McClelland, NSA HQ - he could never forget Kyle, could he?

Unless...unless he had forgotten everything...

Kyle screeched to a halt outside his apartment block, breathing heavily. He was an NSA agent damnit, he remembered detail as if his life depended on it, and it often did. Concentrating, he thought back, tried to remember something, anything, to give him a clue, to confirm his suspicion.

There was a gunshot wound, blood soaking the material around his shoulder, staining deep. Kyle tried to move beyond that flash of pain to the surrounding shirt, but it had been too dark, too shadowed. He knew nothing, nothing at all!

Moonlight though, a glint as Jake shoved him back onto the damp wood. Just a glint on his finger, but Jake had never worn a ring. He remembered clearly, that gold, tried to focus on a hazy memory - fourth finger, left hand...

A wedding ring. On Jake Foley. Kyle would have laughed if he hadn't been gripped in the realisation. The woman on the floor, the half-dead one, she also wore a ring. That was not something you hid easily, not from Kyle Duarte and Lou Beckett, not from the NSA.

It was all the proof he needed, and he sped off into the sunset.

~

They said walking in circles was good, because the hunter never expected that. Revisit old ground and the searchlights will know it free, won't question it again. He wasn't sure how he knew that, wasn't sure he wanted to remember, just kept walking.

The pain in his leg was lessening, and his shoulder ceased to burn, though he felt a lump move as he pushed aside the foliage. DuMont had shot him - and whilst he knew that he hated the man, the world was all skewed again and who could he believe?

He almost regretted running now, ignoring the impassioned plea of the officer's face - Duarte, was it? Who knew what the NSA had done to him, but the fact that they had done something, knew *something*, told him he existed. These were the only constants he had: he was Jake Foley, he had nanites and the NSA knew him.

He circled back again, heading for the bridge he'd last seen as he took an amazing fall off the wood. He'd had no idea if he'd survive, but he just had to get away, before he gave in, was tempted to concede to the man with the pretty green eyes. It had taken him a while after that to realise it wasn't cheating if you only looked, then again to remember he wasn't married. At least, he didn't think he was married.

Bone-tired, he staggered onto the planks of the bridge, desperate to keep moving, but stopped short. For kneeling on the bridge was the agent, peering at the wood. He had changed into soft grey, and Jake took a moment to admire the poise of the man, the muscles tensed in readiness.

"Do I know you?"

The words were out before he realised he'd spoken, and the man looked up, startled, then stood quickly, hands held out.

"Jake, please don't..."

Jake had bolted into the trees as fast as he possibly could, only just catching the sighed last word: 'run'.

~

He wasn't built for running; that's why he had Jake. Ever since he'd been on the scene, Kyle's running had involved catching up or coming to the aid of an injured Jake, concussed or bleeding, always confused. It was almost as if he couldn't quite understand why people would hurt him, as if his inbuilt justice meter was swinging out of the zone. Kyle was glad he was done with that stage.

He caught up with him in a clearing, and it was just like old times. He seemed to have fallen, and now lay on the ground, shaking with exhaustion and with the cold, and it was Kyle's job to put him back together, or hold the fort until Diane made her way to the scene.

Easing himself closer, he met Jake's wild and frightened eyes, and adopted his most soothing tone. "Jake, I need you to listen to me. I am not here to hunt you, I will not make you go anywhere you don't want to. I just want you to talk to me. Can we do that?"

Jake nodded, still making like a startled rabbit, but Kyle was prepared to take baby steps. He sat close, but not too close, and just watched Jake, meeting his gaze steadily and resisting the urge to gather him up and hug him, or demand someone call for back-up.

"I need you tell me one thing, Jake - do you remember who I am?"

That hadn't come out quite right. He meant to ask about DuMont, about the nanotechnology, state secrets and the like. He hadn't meant to voice his own personal fear, but that's what now hung in the air and he saw Jake soak it in with a shaky breath.

"No, I don't remember anything."

The reply was so soft that Kyle barely heard it, but it was enough. More than enough, and Kyle threw all caution to the wind and moved right beside him, drawing an arm around his shoulders. There was no resistance.

"God, you're frozen. We should take you back..."

"NO!"

Jake tried to move away, but didn't quite have the strength. Kyle held onto him tightly, making vague shushing noises.

"No, Jake, it's alright, I won't take you anywhere. We can sit here all night, all night..."

He quietened then, and Kyle relaxed, hands soothing Jake and also warming him. He seemed so like a child, yet still the Jake Foley he knew, still the agent and the friend. It was enough.

"Tell me...who am I?"

Kyle closed his eyes as he felt Jake grip hold of his shirt, and refused to stop cradling the man against him. It was for warmth, he told himself, but he was not convinced.

"You're Jake Foley, NSA Agent," there was a snicker. "You may laugh, but it's true. I'm your...supervisor, we work together. You have...some abilities..."

"Car lifting, super hearing, super vision, fast running. Yeah, I know."

"You're good with computers too," Kyle murmured softly, knowing full well Jake could hear every word. "I'm not, too old. You say that a lot."

"You're not old. Just...mature."

Kyle laughed out loud at that, and Jake chuckled quietly with him. There was silence for a few moments, as Jake settled into his chest; Kyle almost believed he was listening for a heartbeat. As if to prove he was real, he was true.

It was going to be a long night.

***

He wasn't really sure what he was doing, curling into this man he'd really just met, trusting him more readily than he had DuMont, Vanessa. Something about him screamed 'trust me', and one look at those eyes...such pretty green eyes...

Something told him with delusional, too cold, but all confusions were the same, and he wasn't sure he wanted to explore it too deeply. He was content right now - warming, sleepy, a steady beat to soothe. Even the pain was fading away.

"Hey, don't sleep on me yet. I want to check those injuries."

"S'all fine...healing..."

He felt a cold touch to his shoulder, pulling back the fabric, and sharply inhaling. Then, the trail of fingers over his thigh, burning towards the wound, but barely a caress across the mark.

"Yes, you heal fast. Still, Diane will want a look."

The name sparked faintly, but he couldn't quite grasp it. He sighed, then tensed. Could she...maybe...

"Um...is she my...wife?"

Jake was startled when the man burst out laughing, pulling him a little closer.

"No, Jake, she's your doctor." A pause. "But...you might want her to be."

He froze up. That...was not computing in his head, but then he wasn't playing with a full deck. Because, really, sitting here seemed the most natural thing in the world, and wanting anything else, wanting this Diane...it made no sense.

"Is she...are we dating?"

"No, you're not." The voice was soft, hesitant, and Jake picked up a note of bitterness and he wasn't sure why. Did he want them to be dating? Or...was he against it?

"You think...we'd be good together?"

He felt the man tense, and knew he'd said exactly the wrong thing.

"I...don't know. I'm really not the one to ask."

Or maybe...exactly the right thing.

Jake pondered in the ensuing silence. He felt that he shouldn't be feeling like this, but he was. He liked how strong Kyle felt, how his arm enclosed him so naturally. Yet somehow he knew that, in full possession of his memory, he would never be doing this. Ever.

That didn't stop it feeling so right.

He didn't object as Kyle slowly leaned back, taking Jake with him, and settled on the moist ground.

"We may as well rest here tonight," he whispered, and Jake nodded against his shoulder.

Then, something struck him, and he replied, "Wait - what's your name? What do I call you?"

A soft sigh blew onto his cheek.

"Kyle. You call me Kyle."

~

The sun played across his face, and Kyle decided there and then that he wouldn't get up today. A day off, a picnic, and just curling up with...

Kyle's eyes flew open, as everything came rushing back. He peered down at Jake, who was still sleeping soundly, now half-draped over Kyle. His arm stretched over to Kyle's right shoulder, and his left leg settled in between Kyle's, head buried in the hollow of his throat. Kyle admitted that it felt...good.

He stirred then and blinked open his eyes, before staring up at Kyle, obviously trying to piece everything together. He sighed.

"My life sucks."

Kyle smiled at him. "Today, I agree with you."

Jake shifted himself away from Kyle, almost reluctantly and Kyle forced down his decidedly unprofessional feelings. He stood stiffly - far too old for this, and when Jake was feeling more like himself, he would tell him so - and helped Jake to his feet, catching him as he swayed.

"Easy now. You've been through a lot."

He took a moment to regain his balance, and Kyle waited patiently, hands firmly on his shoulders. He wouldn't let him fall again. Jake looked up gratefully, and Kyle smiled, before shrugging expansively.

"So, where to now?"

Jake paused for a moment, and Kyle could see the whole gamut of emotions stream through his eyes. Finally, he set his jaw and gave a lopsided grin.

"I want to go home."

~

Kyle pulled up to the NSA building, glanced across at Jake and took a breath. This was going to be interesting. He stepped out of the car before crossing to the other side and opening the door for Jake. Helping him out and allowing him to lean heavily on his arm, Kyle started for the building, well aware that the cameras had already picked them up. He moved closer to Jake.

"Okay, listen carefully. You must not leave my side. The people in there - they don't know what's happened to you, they think you were working with DuMont. Stay with me, don't do anything unless I say to. Are we clear?"

"As crystal. Geez, are you always this bossy?"

Kyle cracked a smile, as they pushed their way through the doors...and straight into a contingent of armed agents.

"Nice work, Agent Duarte."

Director Warner moved through the agents, then motioned a couple to take Jake. Kyle pulled Jake behind him, and stepped back.

"I'm not bringing him in, ma'am. I'm clearing his name."

Kyle felt Jake lean on his shoulder, shaking, and Kyle put a hand back to steady him, silently trying to communicate patience.

"That's not your call to make, Agent Duarte. Now step aside."

She reached out to physically remove him, but he brought his arm up defensively, blocking her hand.

"I want to speak to Deputy Director Beckett."

"I outrank her!"

"I don't care! I wouldn't trust you within a foot of Jake, especially not right now. I will take him to Lou, and no one else."

"And I am ordering you to stand down, Agent Duarte. These men will shoot to kill."

Kyle's eyes flicked to the guns, saw the uneasy looks in the agents' eyes. Shooting one of your own was hard, but they would shoot. He prepared himself to take the bullets.

"I am not leaving him until I see Lou Beckett."

"What is going on down here?"

Kyle had never been so grateful to see Lou in all his life, and flashed her a smile. She returned the smile tentatively, eyeing Jake warily.

"Agent Duarte, you're shielding a wanted man."

"It's not what you think, Lou. He's suffering from amnesia."

Director Warner snorted. "You bought that lie, Agent Duarte? I didn't think you would be so easily fooled."

"Director Warner, my department will handle this. Stand down these men."

Kyle watched the fiery ladies stare it out, equal in their intensity. He felt Jake slump against him, completely exhausted, and whispered to him, "It's all right, almost home."

Director Warner broke first. "On your own head be it."

She stalked off, and the agents stood down, as Kyle turned to Jake, hands under his arms to hold him up. Lou swept forward, and they supported Jake between them. She was silent, but her eyes told him that he's have a lot of explaining to do.

They entered Diane's lab, and she turned, almost dropping her mug of coffee.

"Jake! What happened?"

She moved swiftly towards him, and he tried to step back, eyes darting to Kyle.

"It's all right, Jake," he reassured. "This is Diane."

Jake relaxed, even as Diane grew tense, eyes brimming with questions. Kyle and Lou carefully laid Jake out on the bed, before Kyle began his update.

"Jake has lost his memory. DuMont fed him some impressive lies, and he wasn't sure what to believe. He also has two gunshot wounds - one to the shoulder and one to the back of the thigh. They're healing though, as per Jake normal. The memory is the immediate concern."

Kyle settled his hand on Jake's good shoulder, and was met with a small smile.

"Um...could I get something to eat?"

Lou's eyes widened, and she walked away to the phone, calling through for some sandwiches. Kyle didn't leave as Diane worked, testing for everything under the sun and theorising out loud about magnets and viruses.

Eventually, all the spieling stopped, and Jake was sitting up, happily eating his sandwiches and quizzing Diane on exactly what his nanites could do. She was quite carefully explaining it all, but Kyle could tell the whole thing disconcerted her. Whereas he...Kyle wasn't sure what he thought, but Jake was Jake, and he wanted him to be happy.

And he seemed quite happy in his ignorance.

The phone rang, and Kyle went to answer, wondering if Lou had pulled enough strings yet. She had left some time ago 'for answers', and really, that was all they had to go on.

"Agent Duarte."

"Kyle, it's Lou. The psychiatrist is talking. I'll meet you there in ten."

Kyle hung up and faced Jake, who was watching him intently.

"We may have something."

~

"We need to prove to the nanites that it's safe to reconnect the memory pathways. Then, they should automatically conduct the repairs as part of their homeostasis role, and Jake should be fine."

Diane was met with a wall of silence. She sighed and gestured to a device at her side.

"I'm going to connect Jake to this, and it should fix him."

Jake smiled gratefully, before glancing at Kyle. There was a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes, and Jake knew why. Kyle was afraid that Jake would remember, and then this strange almost-something they had would fade away. They'd be whatever they'd been before, and a night in the woods would mean nothing at all.

Jake wanted to promise himself that it wouldn't happen, but he was in no position to make promises.

Diane came forward and attached the pads carefully to his head before stepping back. Kyle squeezed his shoulder before taking up his position beside her, with Lou hovering in the background.

Jake shut his eyes.

~

"...lucky it didn't kill him!"

"Director Warner..."

"You are not to experiment on government property, is that clear?"

Jake opened his eyes to the absolute silence, and watched Kyle snap.

"Jake has never been 'government property', and Diane was trying to help him! Jake was prepared to take that risk, and we supported those actions. Jake made a choice, and it was his choice to make."

"I think it was the right one."

They all turned to face him, and he grinned at them all, picking out each face and delighting in the recognition and the memories that appeared for each one, even Director Warner.

Diane moved forward to check his vitals, and Kyle just came to stand beside him, hanging back slightly. Jake felt a wash of emotion, and smiled at him, no longer confused.

And ready to promise.