Angie looked at Billy's beat up face, wondering if he'd ever wake up, if Tom would show up. This was so stupid. She should've asked for his address. She should really focus on more relevant things than being jealous of Little Miss Nurse.

At least she'd talked to Tom and Billy's doctor. Billy had brain swelling and it was dangerous to wake him up until it deflated at least a little. He hadn't been in a coma for too long, so everything looked promising. Maybe in a few days, they would wake him up. Tom, on the other hand, was seriously concussed and suffering from amnesia. Whether he'd get his memory back or not, the doctor couldn't say. Whether it was a good idea to try and trigger it, he couldn't say either. Apparently there was a scientific debate about that.

Angie didn't really care. She was going to try and trigger it anyway. Maybe she still had some luck in this world and telling him about his life would make him remember it.

The door opened and her tired eyes shot towards it. Tom walked in, a concerned look on his face. She tensed. Could something have happened to Billy?

"I need your address," he said.

"Hello to you, too," she answered out of reflex. But what he'd said made her bubble up with warmth. "Only if you give me yours, too."

He sat down on the chair next to hers, pulled out a piece of paper, and started scribbling on it. "I think this is it," he said, handing it to her.

Angie scanned the address, focusing on his handwriting rather than the words, because she had no idea where that was anyway. It was the one she recognized, readable but messy. At least that hadn't changed. She ripped a portion of the paper and scribbled the address of her motel on it.

Tom read it with a frown. "Weird. Your handwriting is familiar."

Angie stared, her head pounding. What was the chance of him recognizing her handwriting but not her? "I hope that's proof that you did know me."

"I'm sure I know you. I never doubted that." He chewed on his lower lip again, in that weirdly uncharacteristic gesture. "I want you to tell me everything you know about me."

Finally! She took in a deep breath and started from the beginning. She told him how they met in a club, how he used to be a DJ and work as a barista; how he was an orphan, but found his family after he joined a secret agency; about his brothers, about Snitch Gravel and about their quests to recover massive jewels.

He listened intently, a crease of concentration between his eyebrows, only nodding, never interrupting until she fell silent, her throat stinging.

"So you're not only my friend, but my coworker as well," he said.

"Yes, I guess so." She'd never thought of herself as his coworker. More like his partner, facing the madness together.

He looked towards the ceiling, drumming his fingers on his chin. "That's a lot to take in."

"I know it is." Please remember, please remember, please remember.

"I want more details."

"Can't you remember anything?" she asked. The despair in her voice made her cringe.

He just frowned, looking nothing like the Tom she'd come to know, to love. He looked like jerk Tom from Tucson, right before he turned his back on her and walked away.

"I can," he finally said, but his tone gave her no hope. "I remember a small room filled with reddish light. I remember pain, fear, screaming. My screaming."

The blood in her veins turned into chips of ice. The torture. He remembered being tortured in the labs.

"I have scars on my back. I've felt them. And this." He traced the scar above his right eyebrow. "What happened to me?"

"You were tortured," she whispered. "I don't know why. You couldn't remember. They wanted you to forget something."

"They apparently did a good job," he mumbled. "It itches so badly sometimes."

Angie reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, but he pulled away. Confusion and regret flashed across his face, settling on disbelief. Her hand felt heavy as lead and dropped along her body. He made no move towards her, banging his fist against his thigh. It was so awkward. She'd never felt awkward around him.

"I think..." He faltered. "I want to remember."

"I want you to remember, too." Desperately, obsessively. But if telling him everything didn't trigger his memory, she had no idea what to do next, how to go on.

He tilted his head, looking like her Tom for a moment. "Maybe if I..."

She just stared back. Maybe if he what? What was he thinking? Those stupid sunglasses. She hated them. What were the chances of accidentally breaking them into pieces? He'd probably just get another pair, but it would be worth it just to figure out what he was thinking.

He leaned forward, towards her, his expression unreadable, and she just waited, heart beating madly. Then the door opened and Geaneyi walked in.

"Visiting hours are over," she snapped, coming towards the bed. "You should leave," she added, as she fumbled with Billy's IV, trying to change it, but her hands were too shaky.

"Really now?" Angie asked, not even bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "Are you sure you're not just trying to get rid of me?"

"No," Geanyi answered, and turned to Tom. "We should go get lunch."

"I'm not done talking to Angie," he answered.

"You can catch up after you eat. You need your strength."

Damn, she had a point. Angie hated it, but Tom really did need to eat to get better. She could suggest she join them for lunch, but in case he started asking questions again, Angie didn't want Geaneyi to be there and hear the answers. She had his new life, so Angie didn't want her being any part of his old one. That one belonged to her. So she stood and grabbed her small backpack.

"We'll see each other later."

"I'll walk you out," Geaneyi offered.

Angie nodded, sure she couldn't get out of it even if she wanted. The nurse headed out of the room at a brisk pace. Angie lingered in the doorway and turned to Tom. He was looking at Billy with a mournful expression, probably wishing, just like her, that he'd wake up and actually remember things.

"You should move out from her place," she said.

Tom snapped to attention. "What?"

"It's not okay. I know you had nowhere to go, but now you do. I can get you a room at the motel. Think about it." And she left before he had the chance to refuse without thinking.

Geaneyi was waiting halfway down the corridor, her face scrunched up in obvious dislike. With Tom out of the picture, she had no reason to pretend to be civil. To her misfortune, neither did Angie.

"What? Are you going to try and bully me into staying away from him?" she asked, bored.

"You're trouble. I'm not sure you even know him," the nurse said between her teeth as they walked towards the elevators.

"Yes, I have a habit of targeting random amnesic people and pretending I know who they are," Angie muttered. "He's got a family and a home. He's not going to stick around for much longer."

"You don't know that. Maybe he'll like his new family and home better."

Angie stopped. Geaneyi did too, a devious grin on her face.

"That's right. I was there when he needed someone most. He's not going to forget that in a hurry. He owes me. He cares for me. And I'm going to give him a better life than you ever could."

Angie gawked for a second, then threw her head back and laughed at the stupidity of the situation. "You don't even know his name."

And with that, she turned and walked away. But as she exited the hospital, back into the crowded streets, her stomach clenched uncomfortably. Because Geaneyi did have a point and an unfair advantage. Tom actually seemed to like her.

⭐⭐⭐

Without the hospital and talking to Tom, Angie had no idea what to do with herself. He was her purpose there, but she knew she shouldn't push and step on anyone's toes, not even Geaneyi's. Because that girl had too much power and could fill his head with nonsense. And despite all her love for him, Angie knew Tom could be an idiot at times.

She'd considered going to Geanyei's place to see him, but the risk of her being there was too great. She wished she still had her phone. That way, she could call Sam and give him the news, tell him that his twin was alive but amnesic, and cry on his shoulder. Unexpectedly, Sam was the best shoulder to cry on, because he was the only person Angie had ever met who didn't judge her. Even Kay did. Not that Angie blamed her, seeing the mess she'd caused when she and Tom started hating each other.

The ceiling fan creaked above her as she busied herself counting its laps. What else could she do? She couldn't go to the hospital until the next morning and it wasn't like she had better things to do. This counted as rest. If only her brain would go numb and stop thinking about what Tom and Geaneyi might be up to. They barely knew each other. Of course nothing was going on between them. Just wishful thinking from her part.

A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. "I don't need housekeeping," she shouted.

"Angie?"

She hopped out of bed as if electrocuted and ran to the door. That voice, that muffled voice... She yanked the door opened, her heart beating erratically. And there he was, Tom, standing before her, rubbing the back of his head. Once he spotted her, he stopped all form of movement. His mouth dropped open.

Heat rushed to Angie's cheeks as she realized she was wearing pajama shorts that barely covered her butt, a tank top which was already probably sweaty, and no bra. She crossed her arms over her chest and banged her knees together.

"Um, hi. Wasn't expecting you."

Tom took her in from head to toe before finally closing his mouth and focusing on her face. "Well, I thought about it and I want to talk about something."

"Sure." She glanced over her shoulder. Her room was a mess, and after the look he just gave her, asking him in seemed a little weird, so she stepped out into the smothering air and shut the door behind her.

Tom turned from her and rested his forearms on the railing of the balcony that also served as a hallway. Angie's room was on the first floor, and even if it had a view of the street, the entrance was through the back of the building. A small parking lot stretched before them, empty except for a rusty pickup truck and a beat down hatchback. On the other side of the parking lot, they could admire the back of another building that, judging by the smell, Angie believed was a restaurant.

"The view is depressing," he said, looking beyond the restaurant, at the setting sun.

She opened her mouth to mention that the view of the street wasn't any better, but she didn't see the point. "At least it's a little quiet out here."

"True. This place is very noisy."

They stood in silence for a few moments, listening to the distant honking and screams from the busy street. Angie glanced sideways at him and could actually see his eyes behind the edges of his glasses. He looked worried. When he turned to her, she wished he'd just take them off.

"You paid my hospital bill."

"Huh? Oh, right. Yes, I did. And Billy's."

"You shouldn't have. I'm not sure if I can ever pay you back..." He trailed off, looking weary.

As he should, because she was giving him the best stink eye she had. "Stop being a moron. First off, yes, you can pay me back. You're rich. And second off, you don't have to pay me back because after what happened, it's my duty to look after you."

"You're not my mother," he mumbled, turning back to the parking lot.

"Of course I'm not. But trust me when I say money is not an issue. Not anymore." Just like general safety wasn't an issue either. Angie's life had changed so much over the last three months, she could hardly recognize herself.

He just hummed, looking into the distance, leaning lower over the banister. His shoulders were much broader than when they'd met. He was no longer tall and skinny, wearing used closed and scruffy sneakers. Angie was pretty sure the jeans he had on were Sam's. And there was nothing skinny about him anymore. He was just fit. A sudden desire to touch him overwhelmed her, but she couldn't, because as far as he was concerned, she was a stranger.

"You were right about staying at Geaneyi's," he finally said. "I can't impose anymore, not now that I sort of know who I am and where I come from."

She just nodded, fighting the impulse to pump her fist in the air and do a happy dance. "I think that would be wise."

He glanced over his shoulder, at the run down building behind them. "This place is as good as any, so if you don't mind, I think I'll stick around."

"Of course I don't mind." She turned to face the building, hugging her shoulders, both because she needed to keep herself together and to cover anything indecent.

He half turned too, his body angled towards hers and she could swear he'd leaned towards her a little. He grasped the railing with one hand, had the other on his hip and seemed to be doing a lot of thinking.

"I was wondering," he said in a low voice. "Did we...?" He didn't finish, only loomed over her, trapping her between him and the railing.

Her breathing hitched as she looked up at him, tried to control herself, ignore the heat of his body. She wanted to nod and assure him that they did, that she still did, but she actually had no idea what he was talking about. She couldn't take her eyes off his lips. What would happen if she kissed him right then? Would he pull away, reject her? She doubted it. Tom was very physical. He'd kiss her back even if it didn't mean anything. And she never wanted a kiss between them not to mean anything, even if she was very tempted.

"I'm just so confused," he whispered. "I sometimes feel like I remember things, but it all flashes away so fast, it's like trying to hold water in my hands."

"I'm sure you'll remember everything eventually," she whispered back.

"What if I don't? What if I can't face the danger because I have no idea what's going on?"

Something about what he'd just said was important, but she couldn't concentrate. All she could focus on was the sound of his voice, his body so close to hers. She even dropped her hands, completely forgetting about covering herself. She had no idea if his eyes were still on her face or had strayed.

"Angie..."

She cupped his face, pulling him in closer. Who cared if it didn't mean anything to him? She needed it and she was going to take it. But when she wanted to pull him low enough to reach his mouth, he stopped her. When she focused on his face, he just looked confused.

"I actually expected an answer," he said, the dreamlike quality in his voice gone.

"Oh." Her face caught fire and she pulled away, internally cringing.

"What were you doing anyway?"

"Um, nothing." Oh, God! She needed a hole to hide in. Would jumping off the balcony work? "I'll help you out until you get used to it."

He pulled back, one eyebrow raised and she only wanted to disappear. Awkward silence filled the air around them, heavier than the humid air.

"So, yes," Tom finally said. "Since I've moved out from Geaneyi's and have no money, I was kinda hoping you'd... you know, help me get settled?" He sounded incredibly uncomfortable.

"Oh." He'd already moved out. The lack of luggage confused her, but she came to realize he literally had nothing but the clothes on his back. And he knew she had to pay for his room and he felt incredibly uncomfortable bringing it up.

"I'll get a job and pay you back."

"No, you won't." She pushed off the railing. "I'll go get you a room right now. You don't have to pay me back until we're out of here and back home."

He just nodded. "Maybe you should put something on before going downstairs."

Yes, of course she should. She just nodded before heading for her room, her whole body on fire.

🌟🌟🌟

I kinda like torturing Angie and writinf awkward interaction between her an Tom. Do you think he's remembering more than he's saying? And what do you think Angie could do to trigger his memory?

How about that last bit? Cringe or what? 😁

Hope you enjoyed. I know I totally had a soundtrack for this bit but I can't for the life of me remember it. Maybe I'll put it in when I do.

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