Chapter Text
The city floated above him, a hazy image lost in raindrops. He tasted the rain and felt his own perfume on his tongue. He was crying.
Perhaps it was better that he was in the middle of the city, in the restless sea of lost souls, too quick to notice the suffering that his eyes hid. They passed by without even giving him a single glance. His hands were frozen, his fingers aching from the force with which he gripped the street curb. He wanted to break into thousands of pieces and scatter on that cold and dirty street, next to beer bottles, garbage, and cigarettes butts, and wait for the morning when someone would sweep him out of that existence. The warmth of the tears was welcome, but the seriousness of the situation made all those tears seem unnecessary. He should’ve been happy about it.
The rescue came not from any of his acquaintances, but from a stranger (almost a stranger), from whom he had never expected to receive an outstretched hand and a warm smile.
He didn't want to get out of bed. He felt so good under the morning rays that shyly tried to show themselves through the curtain, under the blankets covered by the perfume of both of them and his coffee, which he often drank in bed, and under the arms that held him as if the world would end when they let go. He could see himself living like this for the rest of his life. It felt like paradise.
The bedroom seemed more inviting since he'd managed to get him to finally put all her things away, since the photos had disappeared or been turned face down. In that way it felt like he had a chance, that he wasn't just someone he could spend the nights with, make the time fly by. He often wondered how the hell he even got a chance to begin with...
Six months since he hadn't called home. Six months since he felt happy. Six months and things were moving slowly and quickly at the same time, in that he had already moved in and was living in that house as if he had been born there. Yet, he still didn't search the drawers by himself, he didn't dare to borrow some of his clothes without asking first, nor he could afford to tell his son to stop being on the phone and pick up a book when they were only a few years apart. He was just five years older than the kid. It felt weird at time, but he learned not to let such a small thing spoil his joy of being day by day in the place he had come to love so much. The boy hated him, really hated him. He was determined to change that.
He taught him how to ride for the first time, and from that day almost not one passed without spending at least half an hour in the saddle of the horse he had given him for his birthday. He loved to gallop and race with him along the river behind the house, and while they were there, it seemed as if they were alone in the world. Happiness really did come in small bottles.
He had known from the start that it would be an extremely bad idea to agree to return home. The faces of those who had once thought they loved him the most looked at him as if he had committed a crime, as if they loathed him. He preferred a world without them all, rather than a cold and desolate one without the one who had brought colors back into his life.
Five missed calls from his brother. He pressed harder on the gas pedal. He couldn't believe it. He would have expected anything but this, from anyone else too. It was raining too hard, the wipers were barely coping, the beeping of the seat belt was driving him out of his mind, but he still didn’t put that seatbelt on. Ten calls from his brother. Two calls from him. One from her. He took a sharp turn and continued to drive blindly. When the needle on the dashboard stuck at 50mph after the impact, he had fifty calls on his phone from his brother, ten from him and countless from everyone who had seen him leave that evening.
When he opened his eyes, Jake expected to see the wet asphalt in the dead of night, to see whoever had hurt Tommy and let his fists do the talking for him. But he didn't expect to find himself in a hospital room, blinded by the white fluorescent light, disoriented in a hospital bed with many wires and tubes attached to his body. He almost didn't hear the small gasp over the persistent sound of the machines around him.
"He woke up. Somebody get the doctor.”
Jake had a bitter taste in his mouth, his head throbbed from time to time. The room spun and shrunk before his eyes until he realized who else was in the room with him. His friends were all there, each looking a bit worse than the other.
He first laid eyes on sweet Neytiri and his heart grew a little at the sight of her. Norm and Trudy surprised him by how close they were standing, their hands intertwined, looking at him happily with their heads on each other's shoulders. Max was torn between anxiety and joy, not knowing whether to jump to hug Jake or run after the person who came out into the corridor. Neytiri shyly approached him.
"Baby, come here! Come to me." He held out his hand to her, and she flinched slightly at his words, but their fingers met. Only then could Jake quiet his madly pounding heart. She was there. She was all that mattered. “Baby, what's going on? Why am I here?”
"Oh, Jake… It's going to be okay." Jake ran his hand through the curls of her hair, melted into the beauty of her brown eyes. He pulled her towards him for a kiss, but she quickly pushed back. "Jake you-"
"The doctor will be right in."
Tommy.
His brother had come in breathless, panting, and Jake almost didn't recognize him due to the overgrown beard and huge dark circles that darkened his face. But there he was, he was fine, he was alive. How come he was alright?
"Sir, your brother was the victim of an attack. He was stabbed before he-“
"Tommy..." Tears took over him. He got up as high as he could. He wanted to get off that damn bed, but something held him in place. His legs were numb.
"Oh, little brother!" Tommy was at his side in an instant, hugging him tightly. "I thought I lost you! I thought I lost you… Forgive me, Jake! Please forgive me. I didn't want that to happen." Jake hugged him back, but his brother's words rang meaninglessly in his ears.
“Tommy what are you talking about? What’s going on? Why am I here?"
If his wake had startled the room, his question silenced them all. Jake noticed how everyone looked away from him, but he couldn't understand why. And Tommy… Tommy looked different, he looked older.
"What's all this," Jake asked, tugging at the hospital clothes, at the needles stuck in his arms. He felt lost.
"The accident, Jake." Tommy's voice trembled. "If I knew you'd run away I-…” Tommy cried. Norm and Trudy also came closer, but with their eyes fixed on the ground. Neytiri turned her face away.
"It can’t-... It's not… The police called me!”
"What?"
"Yes, yes, I remember clearly. I went out for a drink with the boys and out of nowhere a number called me. The police told me that you were injured, that someone attacked and robbed you."
Yes, that made more sense. It had happened, he could see it before his eyes. He saw the bright neon lights of the night, felt the rain against his skin as he rushed outside upon hearing the news, heard the sound of his motorbike as he madly sped towards the place.
"And that's the last thing you remember?"
A call. The neons. The rain. The wet road. Over and over and over. Nothing after. He couldn't remember if he got to Tommy in time, but seeing him there in the flesh was a good enough answer.
"Yes, and that's exactly why I don't understand why I'm here."
Tommy cupped his face in his hands. He had never seen his brother so sad. He glanced back at their friends, who all looked shocked. The bedside monitor began to beep louder.
"Jake, that was five years ago."
The room. Their looks. The machines. White fluorescent light.
The room. Their looks. Clothes thrown on the floor. The blood left by knuckles on the door frame.
"W-what do you mean?"
"Jake, the attack was five years ago." Tommy repeated lifting his shirt to reveal a long scar down the side of his abdomen.
Jake ran his fingers along the scar, and suddenly everything became suffocatingly real. He stared lost at it for a few seconds trying to put the pieces together. He repeated the number “five” several times, but he couldn't believe it. It was impossible. The other day he was at home with Tommy, helping him pack for another conference. He saw Neytiri, they spent the afternoon together. He laid with his head in her lap on their favorite bench in the center of the park, and they talked about the future, plans, about the small things. He made her laugh.
And now she didn't even hold his hand anymore, she didn't look at him with that intense love that he carried unhindered in his heart.
Suddenly the door to the room opened. Jake expected to see the doctor, but was taken by surprise when none other than Miles Quaritch hurried towards him. What was he doing there? Jake never saw the man in civilian clothes, the few, scattered memories of him always involved uniforms, that military background. Jake wanted to enroll, to be part of that world, to someday work under the man’s command. Maybe that’s why he was here.
Tommy immediately jumped in front of Jake like a shield.
"What are you doing here? Stay away from him!”
“Nice to see you too, Tom. If you don't mind I need to check on my boyfriend." Boyfriend…
Quaritch put his hand on Tommy's shoulder, trying to push him away, but Tommy stayed where he was.
"Do you want to make a scene, here, in the hospital? How’s that gonna look on your record?"
"Thanks for the concern but if that's what it takes, then yes."
Jake was more confused than ever. Miles Quaritch. A man feared by many. Of all the people in the world, he had Quaritch as his lover. The thought alone scared him. Plus, he still couldn't understand how he could be with Quaritch when he was still with Neytiri. He loved her, only her. It was pure madness.
"He doesn't remember you," Tommy growled through gritted teeth.
“Bullshit. Jake, look at me. Sweetheart, tell me you're okay.”
Jake gulped down the knot forming in his throat.
“Sir, I- I don’t… don’t remember you- us, being together. I-…” He probably looked like a deer in the headlights. His hands were shaking.
“How convenient, isn’t that right, Tom?”
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Neytiri cut in stepping closer, arms crossed.
“I’m leaving when Jake tells me to, not a second earlier. And I’m taking him with me.”
“Keep dreaming, you fucker!” Tommy shoved Quaritch hard, but the man started smiling, his eyes fixed on Jake.
“Did they tell you what they did, sweetheart? Did your brother tell you why you had the accident?”
“That’s enough. Leave. Leave! He doesn’t remember, he doesn’t know you two were together. Just fucking leave!”
“Jake, come on. You remember me, love. You’re fine. Let’s go home.”
Quaritch reached his hand toward him. Jake shrank in himself, hidden behind the wires and his own hands.
“Jake.”
“Sir, I- I think I need to be with my family.” He could literally see the imaginary bucket of cold water thrown over Quaritch’s head as his words hit home.
“I’m your family.” And that sent shivers down Jake’s spine.
“I’ll see you out,” Tommy snarled as he grabbed Quaritch by the arm and dragged him outside.
“I’m coming with you,” Neytiri added. “I need to take something from the car. Jake, we’re coming back right away.” Trudy left with her as well, cursing on the way out.
The sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a warm glow but doing little to ease the chill of confusion enveloping him. His feet were killing him. A pain radiated from his knees all the way down to his toes.
“Guys, start talking before my head explodes. What the fuck is going on?”
Norm exchanged a glance with Max, a passing conversation happening between them before Norm spoke, “Jake, we- we really don’t know much about him…or you. You’ve been distant, for the past years.”
“Distant?! What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s better if you wait and speak with Tommy.”
As if summoned, his brother re-entered the door followed by the girls. Tommy was red in the face. All that tension irritated Jake beyond words. He needed something to vent. He would have killed someone for a cigarette.
“If none of y’all starts to explain what's going on, I'm going to get up and walk right out… looking like this. What the hell happened between then and now?”
“Maybe we can recall some big events,” Max suggested. “It might help.”
A long pause before Norm broke the silence.
“Trudy and I got married.”
“How about in order of importance for Jake?” Neytiri scolded Norm. Max and Trudy could only laugh, and Tommy got that lost look again, like he was somewhere between being ready to scream or to cry. “We- we broke up,” Neytiri continued. It felt like a brick being smashed over his head.
“W-what do you mean?” She did that thing with her shoulders and bit her lip. He could see she was fighting back tears.
“We grew apart, your mind was somewhere else… We decided to call it quits.” He let it sink in. It did. It hurt, more than the pain in his legs, more than the thought of missing so much of his life.
“Were we still friends?”
“We were and weren’t, hard to say how you view it at times,” she said dragging on the answer.
“Do we still talk?”
“Sometimes. Rarely.”
“You don’t live with me anymore,” Tommy intervened still not fully looking Jake in the eyes. “You decided to live with your boyfriend.”
He knew he was open for options long before he started dating Neytiri, but he couldn’t see the picture, with him loving a man like Quaritch. Or, perhaps it wasn’t about love. Maybe it was something to kill the time with, to get something out of it, yet he couldn’t imagine pushing Neytiri away just for that.
“So… so me and Quaritch then, ha? How the fuck did that happen?” No one answered for a long time, until Tommy sighed loudly.
“We don’t know, Jake. You didn’t really talk with us about him. You just left…” It killed him to see Tommy so defeated. “You stayed away from us. You didn’t really call or see any of us for three of those years.”
“That can’t be true. I wouldn’t do that.”
Their brief conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the doctor and nurse. They needed to run tests and Tommy was quick to add the detail of his lack of memories. With that, his friends were able to go home to rest, after apparently several days in which they stayed with him in the hospital while he was unconscious.
—
It was a death sentence. The one dying was the part of him that had been lost. An old, familiar numbness kept creeping in the corners of his mind. It was a lot. The doctor kept talking and he hoped that Tommy was more perceptive of the information in case there were important steps for him to make.
“-and evaluating your scans, considering your symptoms post-accident, it’s clear your suffering from retrograde amnesia.”
“Amnesia…” Jake repeated the word, finally catching up with what it was said. “But, I remember… I mean, I know who I am.”
“You’re struggle to recall anything from the last five years would beg to differ. It’s very good that your autobiographical memory seems intact. It’s not a reason to panic, this isn’t uncommon in traumatic brain injuries,” the doctor explained, his tone gentle yet firm.
Jake clenched his fists, staring at the floor like it would give all the right answers.
“So, I just say goodbye to all that time, to all those memories?”
The doctor gave him a sympathetic smile.
“I wouldn’t go that far. There’s always a possibility that, perhaps, your memories will return.”
“I don’t kinda wanna hear ‘perhaps’, doc. I want certainty.”
“Jake!” Tommy shook him by the shoulder.
“Mr. Sully, 'perhaps' in this field of work is the most optimistic word we can use in such cases.” Jake scoffed at that. “The mind is a fickle thing. We need to tread lightly, without forcing things. Memory can sometimes be jogged through familiar places, faces, scents, music… But, it shouldn’t be something that takes hold of the rest of your life. What matters now is focusing on a full recovery, and I’m talking about your physical health.”
Jake looked down at his legs. The pain died down from all the painkillers they gave him, but soon enough he had to face that consequence without them.
“You got extremely lucky. A few bruises, small cuts, but physically you’re good to go. There’s no reason for us to keep you any longer. Make sure you don’t miss your appointments and that someone helps you daily with the exercises.”
Soon after, the doctor left and Jake was once again left with more questions than answers.
“What an asshole.”
“Hey now. Don’t be like that. He’s doing his job, he can’t perform miracles.”
"That's one thing I'll never forget about you, bro."
"What?"
"How empathetic you are." Jake laughed. They both did, and he got lost in the sound of their voices mixing together. It sounded like an echo, not much of a difference between them. “So, you’re shipping me off to my boyfriend, or…”
“Don’t even mention that. You’re coming back to the apartment.”
“Look, I don’t wanna impose or anything. I don’t know what’s your situation now.”
“There’s no situation. It’s gonna be just the two of us.”
“Uff, still no girlfriend?” That earned him a light slap over the hand.
“And you’re still annoying.”
“Hey, would it really be that bad if I get back to him? I mean, I lived so many years with him, it must mean something.” Tommy’s kindness vanished before his eyes in a second.
“It only meant you were childish enough to let yourself be fooled by that piece of shit.”
“Alright… but maybe I should talk with him, explain to him that I need some time off. Everyone needs an explanation, not to just disappear out of their lives.”
“Most people do, but not that man,” Tommy spitted out. “And I do hope you remember what you just said for when your memories return.”
And that threw Jake off. He almost took back the compliments for his brother.
They had nothing to pack when his discharge was prepared. They gave him back the clothes he had been wearing on the day of the accident, his wallet, and a simple, thin gold necklace he couldn't remember he owned. His phone was apparently at Quaritch, so for that day he said goodbye of recalling stuff in that way. He got nothing to start from.
Jake somewhat understood his brother, he understood some of Tommy's fear, but it was absurd not to try to communicate with the man he had lived with for so many years, who probably had answers to all his questions. He just had to do things quietly, much like he had done before all of this.
—
By the time they got home, the city had already let itself be carried away by the diffused light of the street lamps. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least a little scared. Yesterday was an early autumn day, a day like any other, which ended tragically. Today was a late winter day that started tragically and would eventually end. It had to end one way or another.
As Tommy opened the front door and ushered him inside, Jake entered the apartment with a pounding heart. The air felt heavy, charged with an eerie silence that seemed to press down on him like a piece of iron, unwelcoming and cold.
Tommy turned on the lights, revealing the living room that had been filled with a lot of happy memories for them, of laughter, late nights spent awake until sunrise. Now, he felt like he was stepping into someone else's life.
Jake's gaze quickly swept across the room, noticing the new cream couch that replaced the old one stained with pen, coffee, and Neytiri's cat scratches. The walls, once a vibrant shade of blue, were now painted a neutral shade of gray, stripping the room of the warmth it once held. His eyes searched for the small motorcycle figurines that used to line the bookshelf, a testament to his passion, only to find them missing, replaced by unfamiliar books and decorative objects.
"Looks a little different, huh?" Tommy's voice was soft, laced with a hint of sadness. Jake nodded, his throat tight.
"Yeah, very different actually," his voice barely above a whisper. He felt like a ghost, haunting his present, disconnected and out of place.
As they walked around the apartment, slowly making room for memories to emerge but never did, Jake came across the wall of photos. He was missing from countless pictures. The first slap from life that time had not stood still, that their words about his decisions had been true and that the world had gone on without him there.
Tommy caught his gaze and moved closer to him, pulling him into a light hug.
"You'll be in the next one, and I'll tell you about everything you missed."
"It's like I didn't even exist..." he murmured with a heavy heart.
“Hey, this is still your house, you're still my dear and beloved brother, and I’m all here for you. Always."
Jake offered a weak smile, but the words did little to soothe the feeling of isolation growing inside him. Right now he was just a stranger in his own life, a piece that no longer fit into the puzzle of his family's existence.
He was glad of Tommy's support because his knees were starting to hurt terribly. He panted down the hall to his room. With a hesitant hand, he pushed it open, half expecting to find the room just as he had left it, a time capsule of who he had been.
Instead, he was met with emptiness. All that was left there were the bed, the bedside tables and the desk. Empty. A bedroom devoid of personality, devoid of anything that could be identified with himself.
"That's what you left me with when you ran off with Quaritch," Tommy said leaning against the door frame.
"Everything ? Did I take absolutely everything?”
Jake dragged his aching legs to the dresser, to the bedside tables, searching every drawer, every nook and cranny. There were no more clothes, no posters, no figurines, no more boxes of high school stuff hidden under the bed, no more string of concert bracelets he had strung above the bed.
"Let's not make a tragedy out of this. We'll go shopping tomorrow and I'll buy you whatever you want. Until then you can borrow stuff from me."
Jake even checked under the board under the desk where he sometimes kept money and cigarettes. He found nothing, only dust.
"I want my stuff back Tommy, not new shit."
“I suppose you took it all to his house."
"Where does he live?"
Jake sat on the edge of the bed, already tired from the physical and mental pain. It was all a bad joke, a metaphor for his current life - empty and impersonal, empty and dry and sad. Tommy sighed, crossing his arms.
"Tell me you're not considering going back there…"
"Where does he live?" He left no room for avoiding the answer.
“I don't know, Jake. You did this while I was out of town. It was like the fucker kidnapped you. Maybe in a way he did…” He said the last part almost in a whisper.
"It can't be... And- and so many years and you never bothered to find out?”
“You didn’t want us to know, didn’t want for any of us to intervene.”
“But someone has to... Grace! Grace knew his wife, right? She must know the address.”
In a moment, Tommy came to him and sat on the bed, taking Jake's hands in his.
"Calm down. You're tired, you're confused. We'll deal with this tomorrow, okay?"
In the dim light of the bedroom, amid that silence that fell between the two of them, Jake found himself grappling with a question that gnawed at the edges of his mind and that he couldn't believe he'd thought of it this late.
"Tommy, where are Mom and Dad?"
He wanted to say more, scream at the thought that maybe he had driven them away so badly that they didn't care if he lived or not. They should have been the first he saw when he opened his eyes, they should have been there with him.
"Don't ask that, not tonight. That's enough for today."
“Tommy, please. Where are they?" Tommy squeezed his hands gently. Jake could feel his brother being crushed by some sort of fear. “Come on. Please. I would tell you.”
"Mom…Mom died two years ago, Jake." Another knife stuck deep. "It was too late. Chemo didn’t help. The doctors tried everything they could." Tommy's voice broke, a mix of grief and resignation. The words hung in the air, cruel reminders of a lost time, moments he would never reclaim.
Jake felt numbness go through his body, engulfing him. He had pain in his soul, he had bitterness, but everything seemed to be buried in the background.
"Did I- Did I come back for the funeral, given that you said…" Jake asked hesitantly, scared of the possible answer. He sought his brother's gaze and tried his best to let the pain show, not be a piece of stone on the outside.
Tommy shifted uncomfortably and Jake knew he had to embrace himself for the words.
"No, Jake, you didn't come."
Jake's confusion deepened, a frown etched across his brow.
"It doesn't make any sense. I would go, I-… There is no way I would’ve done such a thing. I-…"
Tommy looked away, the pain in his brother clearly visible.
"I would like to know the answer as much as you do. I tried to get you to come back, we all did. I called you countless times and almost every time you had him answer your phone. I swore to you that we would forget everything bad that happened, that we would leave the past in the past and you could come back with him, but…”
Maybe he wasn't so numb, because he found himself in Tommy's arms, on his lap, clutching his neck tightly.
"And Dad?"
Tommy hugged him to his chest and stroked his hair gently.
"Dad was never the same after that. He almost went mad. I was afraid for him, I thought he was going to do something stupid... He started to travel, to get over the pain. The last time he called he was somewhere in Portugal. We don’t talk that often, but he seems to be better."
Jake couldn't process, not fully. Shock after shock after shock, like lightning striking the wet earth. He wanted to cry and he couldn't. He just couldn't do it, as if he had already used up all the tears in that life.
"I'm sorry you're finding out all this now, in this way."
"It's okay." It was not.
"I wish I could make things better, easier."
Jake pressed his forehead against his, something they had done since they were little to calm themselves. He took a deep breath and let his mind settle. He had to focus on the present, on those moments, and in those moments he had Tommy, he had something familiar to cling to, a bond that would remain unbroken.
“Tommy, can I… would it be okay if I slept in your room tonight? I don't think I can be alone now." He almost didn't recognize his voice, small, childlike in its vulnerability.
Without hesitation, Tommy quickly nodded. “Of course, Jake. Come on.”
Tommy carried him into the bedroom, he fetched an extra pillow and blanket, making the bed as comfortable as he could. The familiarity of the gesture brought back fond memories for Jake of nights spent huddled together when there were storms outside, when one of them was having nightmares, or when there were power outages.
"Tommy," Jake murmured after they sank into the welcoming bedding. “Why did the accident happen? What was I doing?”
“We all gathered for a New Year’s Eve party.”
“Who’s we?”
“The two of us, our friends… him and his friends.”
“He was there?”
“Yeah…we were making amends. But I don’t know what happened. You left right before midnight… You just got in the car and…”
“You asked me to forgive you. At the hospital. That’s the first thing you said to me… Why?” He felt Tommy shifting, turning to face the ceiling.
“For… for not realizing sooner that you left without telling any one.”
The tone he used. The advantage of the darkness in the room. There was something off, something he wasn’t telling him, but Jake chose not to push, not for that night.
"Do you think I still have a chance to be myself? I feel like an imposter."
"You have. You not remembering doesn’t mean you’re not yourself anymore. You're home now. Everything will be all right. I promise."
They both fell asleep in each other's arms, Jake dreaming of the future where his brother's words were only true.
Ten, nine, eight…
He opened the door with his fists. It left blood on the door frame.
Seven, six, five…
Their looks.
Four, three, two…
Someone tried to chase him.
One.