It really only takes the briefest reference to something in our shared past, and the memories come surging forward. Even before she finishes, I see the past, and its like we share the same mind, finishing each other’s sentences, laughing at the upcoming scene. A time that feels, happy. So, I of course need to pick at it, paranoia and suspicion telling me I can’t be this lucky.
“Do you remember when the team rescued me in the desert, I looked pretty much like this, well, except feverish, wounded, and dirty as you get spending three months in the wild, a much scragglier beard? Since I started working with Whitley, this is one of the main memories that I have recovered. The medic has to be you.”
“I’m sorry, Brett, that can’t be possible. You said it was a few months before the mission to break out Bryce?” She smiles briefly, her mouth opening as if to say something, misty eyes shining in sentiment, starts to say something, and then laughs lightly, before taking another drink of wine. Her face stills though, and continues, “You’d been gone for years at that point. Dryse never said much, but just once and awhile, he’d smile cruelly and say how successful the project had become, that you had forgotten all about me. You think it was late in 2012? It’s just not possible, Livy had been sick, in the hospital for a couple weeks with some sort of flu. I wasn’t gone for months on either side of that. I hadn’t seen you specifically, or any contact of any kind since the day I called you, until Bryce’s breakout.”
I sigh, frustrated that none of the missions I remember, none of the events align with hers, except our moments in time, but even the missions where she was our medic do not seem right to her.
“Least I have the arcade now,” I mutter. “Least I have that memory that is ours, and ours alone, of Olivia and you.”
She blushes at the memory of another arcade, maybe seeing the joy and sorrow in my 
eyes, she opens her mouth again as if she wants to say something. She starts again, instead an embarrassed chuckle escapes her. Reaching down, as we have long since moved the chairs to where we sit side by side, she takes my hand. We sit there for minutes, and the comfort of her touch brings a balm of peace to the emotional frustration thrumming through my body.
Finally, I break the silence. “Please, tell me what you were thinking of just then. I want to know. I want to know whether it hurts me or not. I’ve missed so very much.” I lift our hands, briefly brushing the back of her hand with my lips. “Please, tell me.”
Tightening her grip on my hand, she leans into me, laying her head with the beautiful blonde hair on my shoulder. For such a long time, she rests there, and even my curiosity is sated by her presence, her breathing easily and calmly tucked into my side. Finally, she says, “It seems like your memories are all scrambled, pieces of a jigsaw puzzle thrown into a pile. All your memories……except those of us. Those you appear to recognize as soon as I start talking about them.” She pauses, “All except one.” Leaning further into my chest, she brings our hands up, returning the intimacy of the light kiss across the back of my hand. “That one…the night of your brother’s rescue. It was the last time we……we…,” and she cuts off, too embarrassed to continue.
March 29th, 2013
“That’s the last of it, Brett, probably too much gear honestly with just of the five us,” Ryan said.
I looked up from the table, angry and ashamed as I’d tuned out the weapons review Ryan had just completed, staring at the damned fake identification for a person who wasn’t here.
“I can call her again, Brett,” started Lucas. Brett just looked at him, and he stopped. Strange, Lucas seemed older, a lot older than I remembered. A jagged scar under his left eye that I didn’t remember either. My memories had been hazy since coming out of the coma a few weeks earlier.
“No, no. If she’s not coming, she’s not coming. All volunteer, remember? Definitely unsanctioned.” Still, it hurts. I’d though for sure she’d come help Bryce, no matter what history had decided for us.
“Let’s go over it again, one more time. I’ll just have to be medical this time around. Not the greatest, but….
Knock…..KnockKnock…..KnockKnock….Knock. The staggered pattern silenced the room. Scents hit me unexpectedly and I know who it is, but I nod at John, closest to the crappy hotel door, and everybody shifts slightly, violence ready to explode from all the experienced operatives in the room.
He opens the door, and starts to speak but before more that a grunt escapes him, “Tell him to get his arse ou’ here.”
As John turns, I am already standing, and I walk out the door closing it quietly so that we are standing on the balcony of this small two floor motel.
“Thanks for coming,” I say quietly.
“I’m no’ here for yo’ Brett. I’m here for Bryce. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with yo’, but I’m a married woman. This is all business. Nothing else.” She’s angry at me. I’m not sure why, too many things are confused, but I know she’s the one that ended it along time ago. Seems like yesterday. Her scent is overpowering. Its hard to think.
“I kno’ that ‘melia,” as I drop into old patterns of speech. “Thank yo’ for coming. Let’s go in an‘ review the plan.”
March 30, 2013 8:37 PM
I’d been crazy hungry. I’d picked up half a dozen pizzas at this ancient pizzeria I remembered from somewhere. The team had shared three of them, then watched in awed, maybe disturbed, fascination as I finished off the other three.
I’d gone back to my room. Her scent had been…..hers. It was distracting. The worst part of a mission was always waiting. Once, I remembered being pretty good at that. Who knew what they were doing to Bryce in there though. Maybe he was already dead, sacrificed to some alter of super soldier experimentation. Rage shook through me as I saw the data images of what had been done to Bridgette and Bryan. I’d kill them all eventually, but first, I had to get Bryce to safety.
The sharp double knock didn’t surprise me. I’d heard the footsteps, tasting the scent of who was out there. I debated about not answering, but the double knock came again.
Sighing, I opened the door, holding it open, allowing her to walk in.
“Look, I thought I coul‘ do this. I thought I’d never see yo’ again. That’s what they said.”
“But…..” I start to say its only been a few months since the last mission, no idea what she is going on about.
Her scent changes, I’m not sure how I know this. She looks…..tired. Worn down.
I step forward, raising a hand to brush back the blond bangs hanging into her eyes. “Are you ok, ‘melia?”
She looked up into my eyes, then reached and grabbed my head, pulling me down to kiss her. “No, I’m not.”
She left the room about twelve hours later, fifteen minutes before the rescue attempt. We didn’t talk. We didn’t sleep either.
Last Dreams 