undergrounds | And we don't know where we're going and we don't know where we've been (Amnesia plot post)

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And we don't know where we're going and we don't know where we've been (Amnesia plot post)

23 February, Early Morning

He wakes up in the middle of a field - actually, a football pitch in Hounslow, but it seems vast and strange to him. He feels a nagging sense that he's lost something important, but he can't remember what it is. On further thought, he realizes that it's not the only thing he can't remember. He has no idea who he is, where he is, or why he's standing in the cold rain. The only thing he can remember is the feeling of an old ring hanging on a chain against his chest, under his sodden clothes. It's familiar and safe, and he knows that if he removes it something very bad will happen.

So the boy crouches in the mud and puzzles through his odd predicament.

A woman at a bus stop opposite the park is the first to see the small figure in the rain. She approaches the pale child and asks him what he's doing out so early, offering her umbrella, but he doesn't seem to understand her questions, growing increasingly agitated and confused the more she tries to help him. He's obviously lost, and the thinness of his arms and legs concerns her. She calls the police.

That night, the evening news broadcasts a picture of a boy, believed to be between nine and eleven years of age, who has been taken into care by Child Protective Services. They are looking for anyone who may recognize him since he does not seem to recognize himself. It generates a bit of buzz online, but it's hardly a leading news story with everything else going on in the world.

There's a follow-up the next morning, but this time it leads the program: a nurse in the mystery boy's hospital room was found dead late last night, drained of blood, her throat ripped out. The child is nowhere to be found.

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Being held feels nice. Really nice. The hug makes him feel a little better, somehow. Slightly braver. Less alone.

But when Nancy mentions the hospital his eyes go wide and he pulls away. "No! I can't go back there. I can't," he pleads. "Don't make me go back there." He doesn't mention why. He did something terrible and if Nancy knew, she wouldn't help him. She'd probably even call the police to take him to jail. The boy doesn't know much, but he knows where people go when they've hurt others. Killed others.

Despite her close relationship with a member of the police, she knew better than to call them right away. Getting the police involved always made things complicated.

She glances over her shoulder, then turns back to the boy. "Okay. C'mon, my boyfriend's place isn't far from here. Let's get you cleaned up, maybe something warm to wear and a hot meal, yeah?" She offered her hand again. Being only five feet tall, she was sure she had a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that would fit him.

"Then we'll get everything settled over a cup of tea."

All of that sounds really nice, but the boy can't help but feel a bit wary. What if Nancy finds out about what he did? Will she turn him in? Force him to go back to the hospital?

But he's too exhausted to argue. He nods and follows her.

She would never turn a child back on the streets. If she found out what he did, well, she'd get Cooper in to deal with it. But right now, assuming she's dealing with a child, she's not worried.

Nancy leads him through the back roads until they reach Cooper's apartment. The doorman gives her a nod, and it's up the elevator until they reach his front door. "Cooper's not in right now," she says, and unlocks the door. "Come on in. I can show you the bathroom so you can take a shower?"

"I'd like that," the boy mumbles. He's still so cold.

He revives a bit in the shower, standing under the hot water. He feels so guilty, watching the blood flow down the drain, leaving him clean, but Nancy hasn't pressed him on it and he isn't going to press the matter. She can still turn him in, no matter how nice she's been.

His hospital gown is ruined and he shoves it into the trash, hoping no one finds it. He walks out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft towel because there's nothing else for him to wear.

"Do...you have something I can wear?"

While he was showering, Nancy's brewed them each a cup of tea, and heated up some chicken soup for the boy. There wasn't too much food in the house, given that Cooper didn't really need to eat, not the way Nancy did, but there was more there now than there had ever been before.

When he emerges, she presents him with a soft t-shirt, sweat pants and a hoodie. "Hopefully they'll fit. Once you're dressed, I've got some food warmed up for you."

He thanks her for the clothes and reemerges a few minutes later, properly dressed. Nancy is not a large woman, but he's so scrawny that everything she's given him looks massive as it hangs off his bony frame. But it's warm and isn't a thin hospital gown and he is content.

The tea and soup disappear quickly, but once again food doesn't seem to do anything to sate the hunger he feels deep in his belly. He wants something else; he doesn't know what, exactly, that is but it worries him. Nancy is so nice to him. What if he attacks her too?

"You've been very kind to me. Thank you."

Nancy sips her tea, watching him eat. She'd been expecting him to regain some color, after his shower and food, but the poor boy was as pale as ever.

"You're welcome," she says simply. "I couldn't let you stay on the streets, could I?" She takes a sip of her tea.

"You haven't remembered anything, have you? Do you remember anything before the hospital at all?" She wanted to know why he'd arrived so bloody. He didn't look hurt at all anymore.

"I was standing in a park," he shrugs. "Yesterday. It was raining and I didn't know why I was there or who..." His voice wavers a little. "Who I am. I don't know if I have a name or if I have a family or anything. A lady found me and called the police and they took me to the hospital. And then..." No. He can't tell her what he did. He can't.

"I don't remember. There was a lot of blood and I was scared, so I ran away."

She frowns deeply over the cup of her mug. "Oh, you sweet thing." It feels wrong for him not to have a name. "And you're sure you're not hurt at all? Goodness, someone must be looking for you."

"I'm not hurt. Somebody else is." That's all he has to say on that account.

He frowns into his empty bowl and shakes his head.

"I...think I did something horrible. Maybe that's why I can't remember."

Nancy looks at him, before reaching a hand out across the table, hoping to take his in hers.

"What happened? It's okay- you can trust me. I've done some horrible things, too." He had no reason to believe her, but she could hope he would see her sincerity.

This time, he looks at her hand but doesn't take it. He doesn't deserve her goodness.

"The night nurse at the hospital was very nice to me. Brought me chocolate even though I didn't ask for it because she didn't want me to be lonely." Not that he'd really been lonely, since he didn't remember how. "Then something happened. I...can't remember, but she was very badly hurt."

It was my fault.

"Instead of getting help for her, instead of calling a doctor like they showed me, I ran away."

Nancy keeps her hand on the table for him, whenever the boy wants to take it. She isn't going to remove what comfort he surely needs. The poor boy.

His story only causes her more worry, her frown increasing. "It's alright," she tells him softly. "You were scared."

She runs over the information she's been given in her head. He woke up with no idea who he was, in the middle of a field. She'd found him, covered in blood but unhurt. Furthermore, the more time she spent around him, the more she could tell he wasn't just a regular boy. The cold she'd felt from his hand was so similar to how Cooper felt. She presses her lips together.

"But you're safe now. You don't need to be scared." Maybe she could do some sort of memory-regaining spell? "Perhaps we should figure out something to call you?"

Is he safe? He's not so sure. Nancy's been nothing but kind and welcoming, and he wants so desperately to trust her but he's still too traumatized to relax, let his guard down. He's still hungry and that terrifies him.

"I guess," he agrees quietly. "Maybe if you give me a few names I can see if it helps me remember mine."

She doesn't blame him for not trusting her. she didn't trust easily herself, she would have liked to say. So she won't hold it against him.

"Sure- I'll just list some? tell me if I'm getting closer: John, James, Harry, William, George, Richard..." she listed a few others, studying his face for sign of recognition.

Nothing. He recognizes that those are common names, but none of them hold any meaning for him. He shakes his head.

"None of those sound familiar." It doesn't mean they couldn't be his name, of course. Maybe he just can't remember. He feels panic rising up again, threatening to turn into a fresh bout of tears. He tries to choke it down.

"Why can't I remember?"

"hush, hush now," she says, and scurries around the edge of the table so that she can be closer to him. Gently, she pulls him toward her again in a warm embrace. "it's alright, love," she coos. "Let it out, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with not remembering. It'll all come back, just you wait."

she had to have some sort of memory jogging charm in one of her books. She'd just have to wait till he was asleep or something to page through them.

"did you have anything else with you? anything that would give you any idea of anything at all?" A watch or something even.

The people at the hospital had tried to take away his ring, when he'd first gotten there. He'd fought them, harder than he thought he should be able to, and eventually they gave up. His ring is the only part of him that feels familiar.

So maybe it's safe to show Nancy. She wants to help him, right?

Shakily, he reaches under his shirt (well, Nancy's shirt) and brings up the ring. It's very old and very battered, but it's set with an unmistakable red stone, the kind worn by all high-ranking vampires who want to go out into daylight without burning up.

The boy doesn't know that, though. He just knows that he feels safe with it around his neck.

"This."

"oh." Her mouth forms a small 'o' shape as she looks at the ring on his necklace. That- she doesn't need to touch it to feel the magic coming from it. A daylight ring. She'd made them herself.

This... explained a bit.

"That helps," she tells him, smiling again. "here- I think I've got something that will help you." She stands and goes to her fridge. From there, she pulls out two bottles. One she takes a deep sip of immediately- a blood toxin. She didn't know how old the boy was but if he was indeed a vampire she wanted to not die should he try to feed on her. the other was filled with an unmistakable substance: blood.

She poured a bit of the blood into a cup and microwaved it for about thirty seconds before turning back to the boy. "Maybe this will help?" If it does, then... then honestly she should probably just call Jean-Claude.

"What is it? What does it mean?" He's panicking again, especially as Nancy putters around the kitchen, heating something in the microwave. The smell of it...he can feel his heart beat faster and faster because he knows what it is. The same hunger he'd felt before the nurse...no...

He crumples to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest.

"I can't," he says over and over. "Please don't make me remember."

shit shit shit. she sets the blood down and runs over to the boy, wrapping her thin arms around him.

"shh, shhh," she cooed, stroking his hair, holding him to her. "I won't make you, you don't have to. It's okay, I promise." Without thinking she presses her lips against the top of his head, humming absentmindedly to get him to calm down somewhat.

"I hurt her," he whispers hoarsely, keeping his eyes screwed shut. "It was me. I hurt the nurse."

she holds him tighter, stroking his back with the same motherly affection she usually used on her brothers.

"it's okay- it was an accident, love. Just an accident. The nurse will be okay." it had been a lot of blood. "Everyone has accidents."

The boy's voice breaks. "I killed her. She's dead because of me. I'm a monster."

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