Memories

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Just to clear up any confusion, this book takes place at the beginning of Killer Instinct.

Thank you to all of you who have been reading this fan-fic so far, and sorry for taking so long to post another chapter.

"Please, sit," Judd gestures toward a chair in front of his desk.  I sit down, looking around the room and connecting pieces of information.  The books he reads, his family, his favorite sports.  I made a mental note of the safe sitting in the corner.

"Look April," Judd began, sitting across from me, "I realize you had no clue of this beforehand.  With normal procedure, we would have talked to you about this, but since you were in our witness protection system, we already had control of where you lived.  I just figured that it was finally a time where you might be able to help us." He sighed.

"Do you mean with the active cases?" I asked, watching the surprise on his face.

"Who told you about those?" Judd asked, placing his elbows on the desk. 

He wasn't intimidating me, but I definitely didn't want to get on his bad side.  I shrugged at his question.  "No one, just an observation," I admitted. 

To my surprise, Judd smiled.  "And this is why we brought you here.  We were told you could profile, but I have a feeling you can do a whole lot more than you let on."

I circled back to something he had just admitted.  "You mentioned witness protection?  How come I didn't know about that?" I asked.  Maybe it had to do with my missing memories.

"After you turned in your parents, we were afraid that they would somehow find ways to harm you.  You were eleven at the time.  There was no way that we were going to let that happen.  After the trials, the FBI gave you the choice: you could choose to keep your childhood memories, or you could choose to forget them."  He held up the notebook.  "We had you write down your memories so that you wouldn't forget them if you decided you wanted them back. I hope you don't mind, but I've been studying this book for a while to help you with this.  There's some dark stuff, but it's yours if you want it." 

I immediately reached my hand out and he handed it to me. 

"Just know, April, that there is sometimes peace in ignorance," he said.

"You're saying that I willingly agreed to have my memory wiped?" I asked, to which he nodded.  "I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time believing this."

"Michael told me about your missing memories," Judd admitted.  I glanced toward the door.  I'd bet money he was eavesdropping.  Possibly the others, too.

"I know, it's just that I can still remember some things from my past.  A few memories of my parents and how much I hated them."  I shrugged.  "Why would I still be able to remember that?"

"To lose your memories does not mean losing the emotions that went with them.  Relationships tend to be rooted very deeply in the brain, and we did not want you losing eleven years of emotional connections to both people and things.  Yes, there were some bad emotions, but there were a lot of good ones too.  As for the memories, we were told that some more commonly occurring ones might stay, whether good or bad.  I'm sorry about that," Judd said.

"Don't be," I shrugged, playing with the wire on my notebook which was holding eleven years of my memories together.  "I want to remember."

"I trust you," said Judd, "but I also think that you're going to be a little bit rash after you read that book.  I want you to avoid both Dean and Michael for a while.  I don't think you'll be ready to confront either of them."

Interesting.  I knew Michael was a part of my past, but Dean?  That's new.

"Thanks Judd," I said, standing up.  "And although I'm not sure I want to stay, I would like to stay for a little bit if that would be ok?"  I bit my lip, even though I knew he would say yes.

"Stay as long as you need.  I truly hope you decide to stay as a part of this program."  Judd stayed seated, and I took that as my queue to leave.  I opened the door and caught a glimpse of someone heading into the kitchen.  I followed, and found everyone but Dean seated around the table. 

I looked at Michael, knowing he was the one who had been eavesdropping.  "I need to talk to you."

He looked around the table, and then stood up.  "Yeah, sure."

I walked toward the front door and opened it.  "Outside.  Away from prying ears." I explained.

Michael smirked but didn't comment as he strode outside.

"Why were you eavesdropping?" I asked.  "I know you've already read my file."

He held up his hands in mock surrender.  "In my defense, I only read the beginning," he promised.  "Great penmanship for an eleven year old, I might add."  He smirked wider at my glare.  "I was eavesdropping because I wanted to hear your reaction."  He took a step closer.  "You didn't surprise me."  He sounded disappointed.

"You must know why Judd wanted me avoiding you though," I said.  Michael shook his head.  "Seriously?  What about Dean?"

"What about me?" Dean asked, walking around the side of the house and entering the conversation.

I held up the notebook.   "Let me guess, you read this too?" 

Dean shook his head, confused about the relevance of the book.  "Should I have?"

"No!"  I exclaimed.  I turned to Michael.  "That's your problem!  This was mine, and you shouldn't have read it!  I don't even know what's in here, and yet a total stranger does!  When did you read it?"

Dean was watching me blow up at Michael, but I didn't care about my pride right now.  Michael shrugged.  "Why does it matter?"

Before I could blow up again, Dean interceded. "After he met you."

I thought about the day at the library.  Of course he would have looked me up when he got back. Not that he had any right.

"Fine." I huffed.  "I'm going to try and get the last eleven years of my life back.  Like Judd suggested, give me space," I pointed at Michael.  "Oh, and tell Lia to stay in your room the next few nights," I jabbed.  "And actually show her you care about her."

"What if a care about you?" Michael whispered, but I was already walking away, and I pretended I hadn't heard him.

"You blew that man," I heard Dean say.

I made my way up to my room without interruption and flopped down on my bed.  I opened the notebook to the first page.

Here goes nothing.

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