Page 88 of Help Me Remember

“Goodbye, Officer Fitz,” I whispered.

“Goodbye, Agent Levin.”

I barely heard her footsteps despite the hush of the room, but I could tell she was gone. Rounding the hospital bed, I pulled a chair up to sit by Eric’s bedside. I desperately wanted to talk to him, to see his eyes open and to hear his voice, but he needed sleep.

Laying my head on his thigh, I took his hand in mine and waited for him. Just like he’d waited for me so many times in the past.

* * *

The room was still as dimly lit as before when I opened my eyes again, only my grogginess giving away the fact that I had fallen asleep. Nothing seemed to have changed much except the pair of eyes staring at me.

“They let you come,” he said softly, his voice hoarse as he tried to smile.

I sat up too fast, smacking my knee on the metal bed frame. Muttering curses under my breath, I inched closer to him. “You’re awake.”

“I’ve…been awake a few times,” he said, clearing his throat and wincing. “Shit, sorry. Feels like the worst strep I’ve ever had.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t talk too much,” I told him with a frown.

“No,” he said, taking his time as he spoke. “If this is the last time I get to see you, I wanna talk.”

“Well, that’s part of the reason I’m here,” I admitted slowly. “There’s some things I need you to hear…and things you have to decide.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I got a few of our mysteries answered while they had me in ‘custody’ the past couple of days,” I told him, squeezing his hand. Relief flooded me when I felt him return the gesture.

“You gonna fill me in?”

“Yes, but there’s good news and bad news.”

“St-start with bad.”

“Figures. Turns out I was hiding a lot more from you than either of us knew,” I said. Honestly, the more I thought about myself and who I was, the more confusing it became. Even if I got all my memories back, would I be my old self or something else? If all I ever got was what I had now, could I really refer to myself from the past as being me?

I was starting to understand why I’d chosen this line of work instead of philosophy.

“Figured that much,” he said with a slow, thick swallow. “Might as well…get it out…right?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, even as my stomach flipped and twisted. “Turns out…I joined the FBI at twenty years old.”

After a couple of seconds, Eric replied, “I…didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” I said with a wince. “Kinda figured that out. I, uh, don’t know why I kept that from you, and it’s been bothering me. I’m sorry. I wish I could remember why I did something like that, but…”

I trailed off when Eric pulled his hand free from mine, and I let it go without a fight. It stung to see him drawing away from me, but I couldn’t blame him either. I’d kept secrets from him, and I couldn’t explain why.

His finger flicked hard against my nose.

“Ow!” I yelped, jerking back to cover my nose. “What the hell?”

“Ass,” he breathed, glaring at me.

“Christ, how do you do that so hard?” I groaned, rubbing my nose. I honestly thought it would have been kinder for him to punch me. “Aren’t you supposed to be recovering from surgery?”

“For m-my neck, not my hands,” he told me with a glare. “And I know…why you did it, even if you can’t…can’t remember.”

“Why?”

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