Episode Number: 09x15 of
Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)
Title:
Unreliable NarratorSubtitle: Schrodinger's Gun
Author:
dracox-serdrielWord Count: 1,022
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, indications of violence, amnesia, confusion
Status: Complete. Feedback appreciated.
Red Cloud, Nebraska. The man slowly walked the double yellow line. He was hard to miss, tall and muscled. His face was blank, and his expression was confused. He turned his head left, then right, like an owl waiting for prey, but not a spec of malevolence existed in his eyes.
Office Conner Swartz scribbled down notes on the man's general appearance for possible missing person reports. He noticed that the man's eyes slid over everything he saw, as if his vision failed him.
Conner signaled for his partner to pull the car over. He approached the man, but the stranger didn't react. Conner put himself in the man's path to see if he would stop. The unknown man shifted to maneuver around Conner but just barely, as if he mistook the man for a lamppost.
"Excuse me? Sir?" Conner said.
The man stopped.
"Sir," Conner continued, "My name is Conner Swartz. I'm with the police."
"Hello," the man replied stiffly.
"What's your name?" Conner asked.
"I, uh - "
"Sir?"
The man thought very hard. "I'm sorry, I'm having some trouble remembering. My name is - it's - "
Names breezed through his head. Jimmy. John. Gabriel. Bobby. Raphael. Dean. Sam. Cas. Joshua. Some of them felt more familiar than others.
"Sir?" Conner repeated.
"Sam," the man said. "My name is Sam."
"Sam? Are you sure?" Conner asked as he scribbled down more notes.
"I'm sorry, I don't remember," Sam replied. His face twisted out of confusion and into fear and distress.
"Well, you've got a nasty head wound," Conner pointed out.
"Is that why my head hurts?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, these men over here, they're EMT."
"Emergency Medical Technician," Sam said dully. "Is that right?"
"Yes, it is. They've been trying to help you, but you kept walking past them."
"I did? Sorry," Sam answered. "I didn't mean to. I didn't see them. I don't think."
"Will you sit down?" Conner asked.
Sam nodded his head yes and allowed himself to be walked over to the ambulance.
Conner continued, "Can you tell me anything about what happened?"
Sam concentrated, but something made it difficult to focus. "I was in a car," he said, the memories moving back to him like sludge. "Someone I know was driving. I - is he okay?"
Sam looked around for the person he knew, but he couldn't see a car accident.
"Sir, it's just you. Are you saying this happened in a car accident?"
The only thing he could remember was the visceral sensation of collision: flying metal, spoiled momentum, light, heat, pain.
Sam replied, "Yeah, that's what it was. I was in the car with my friend. He was driving, and I think I went to get help. He's hurt, you should go find him - "
"We haven't received any calls for accidents. No wrecks reported. You walked away, so probably your friend is okay," Conner cut Sam off in an attempt to prevent the amnesiac's rising panic.
"No, please - " Sam began.
"Officer, we need to get him to the hospital," the EMT said. "Sam? Sam? Listen to me."
Sam fixed his eyes on the EMT, a lean man in his early twenties. "My name is David, and I'm gonna make sure you're okay. This officer here, he's gonna look for your friend and his car, okay?"
"That's right," Conner offered. "I will."
"Okay. Okay, thank you," Sam said.
The EMTs wanted to strap him in for the ride. Sam didn't like this idea. As they explained to him the relative safety of the ride, his hand slid over his pocket. He recognized the size and shape of the object: it was a phone. He had the sudden desire to hide it from the police; he wasn't sure why.
The EMT began, "I'm going to give you some sedatives, so you can relax - "
"No," Sam said.
"Sir, we need to strap you down - "
"That's fine," Sam replied. "But sedatives are bad."
"There're bad?" David the EMT repeated.
Sam thought hard. He knew sedatives would make him comatose, and he needed to guard this phone. He could only do that if he remained conscious. How could he convince the EMT not to give him any drugs?
"Bad for me," Sam said. "I think." Sam couldn't remember himself ever being sick before, but then again, he couldn't remember much. He did remember, however, that severe allergic reactions caused -
"Anaphylaxis," Sam said.
"Are you saying you're allergic to all sedatives?" the EMT asked skeptically.
"I can't remember," Sam said, keeping his calm in tact. "But I remember not breathing after getting them once."
"You remember what kind?"
Sam shook his head no.
"David," the EMT's partner said from the front seat, "strap him down, skip the seds for now."
"Okay, no seds, but it's your loss."
The ride to the hospital seemed like a long one to Sam. David checked his blood pressure, ran some kind of heart check on him, and inspected his injuries during the ride.
"You were very luck there, Sam," David told him. "Besides the head injury, you see perfectly stable."
"Except I can't remember anything," Sam replied sadly.
"Sometimes that can happen in trauma," David replied. "Almost always temporary. Just relax."
"Patient is awake and responsive but presenting with amnesia," David told the admitting nurse. "Indications of a possibly serious head injury."
The nurse allowed him to change into a hospital gown. Sam stowed his phone under his hospital bed with some kind of medical tape. He had the presence of mind to switch the phone on after he tucked it away.
"Mr. Doe," a nurse said after he'd changed. "We need to take you down to radiology for - "
"Radiology," Sam repeated. "For medical imaging. Am I getting an x-ray?"
"Head MRI," the nurse replied. "Would you please sit?"
She waved her hand at the wheelchair. Sam sat.
"We're gonna figure out who you are and where you belong, don't you worry," the nurse reassured him.
Sam felt uneasy, as if anyone figuring out his identity was a very bad idea. He couldn't understand why, so for the time being, he waited.
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Part Two: Analepsis Primary Post: Unreliable Narrator Primary Post: Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)