I remember

1

I'm walking down the street of one of the worst parts of town. I'm looking to bust some solicitation transactions or a speeding car. I'm passing by an alley, I look in it to check if anything is going on, and I see a tall, strongly built man with a lead pipe in his hand, about to bring it down onto the head of a smaller guy who seems to be passed out on the ground.

I step into the alley, one hand extended towards the man and the other on my gun.

"Drop the weapon!" I demand, slowly edging closer to the pair

The man with the pipe looks at me in surprise and drops it once he realized what's happening. He starts to sprint in the other direction. I decide that the man potentially dying on the ground is a bigger priority than chasing after him.

I call in for an ambulance and crouch beside the red head still unconscious on the cement. I check his vitals and notice burn marks on his forehead and neck.

I look around to see if I'm standing on a crime scene, but I don't see anything of importance. And besides, his marks aren't new.

I don't know what else to do as I wait, so I look for any visible indicators of drug use. I don't find any track marks, so I start to talk to him.

"My name is Mickey, and you're going to be okay. Help is on the way. What happened?" I ask

I know I'm not going to get an answer, but I want him to feel less alone somehow.

The ambulance arrives and starts to load him up. They ask me if i want to ride along. I consider just following in his police cruiser, but I decide I don't want the guy to wake up in the bus alone. So I get in and sit as close to him as I can without getting in the way.

The paramedics start poking and prodding at him. His pale hand falls off the side and hangs there, so alone and sad looking. I take it in my hand and rub my thumb along the back of it. It makes mine look rough in comparison to his soft skin.

I swallow thickly and feel worry creeping up the back of my throat.

"Is he going to be okay?" I ask

The female paramedic nods her head

"He seems to be sedated by a drug. Judging from the lack of sun evidence in his eyes and the state of his skin, he was kept for months so it's probably ketamine" She says, showing me the parts of his body as she tells me

A horse tranquilizer

I look from him to her, not able to process what she's saying

"Kept?" I ask

"Yea, in a basement most likely. A windowless room. The burns on his forehead and neck were most likely a way of training him to submit. He would hold a gun to his head and fire blanks, or use a cigarette or lighter or his neck." She points to the scars

I furrow my brow. I look at the guy. He can't be older than 19, what reason could there be for keeping someone like that.

"When he gets to the hospital he'll be checked for signs of sexual assault" she says

We get to the hospital and they unload him. I stand in the lobby and keep my eyes on him until they wheel him around the corner. I don't know what to do, so I sit in the waiting room and rest my head back against the wall.

•••

I'm woken up by someone shaking me. I open my eyes and a nurse is looking at me. I look around as I rub my eye and see that I'm the only one left and it's dark outside through the window.

"Yes?" I ask, standing

"Ian Gallagher is awake" she says, moving back to show me the way

"Who?" I ask, rubbing my neck

She looks at me confused for a second

"The patient you brought in" she says, giving me his chart

Ian. That's his name. I look over the pages and see that he also had internal bleeding.

I shut the folder and scratch my forehead.

"Is he okay?" I ask, looking at her as I hand back the chart

"Yes. We stopped the bleeding, which was caused by repeated blunt force to the stomach. We also treated and bandaged his burns" she says

"Good. Can I see him?" I ask

She nods once and turns around. I follow her down the hall and through double swinging doors. We turn left around a corner and I see Ian laying in the hospital bed, attached to a few different bags. But his eyes are open and he's slowly eating a jello cup.

The nurse walks away. I slowly walk through the door. He turns his head and looks at me.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Your name is Mickey" he says, cutting me off

He leaves his fingers together and looks me up and down.

Few things make me feel self-conscious, but him looking at me like that does.

"How did you know that?" I ask

"You told me, when I was unconscious. Well, it was more of a fading thing than unconscious. I could still hear everything" he says

He sure isn't acting like someone who's been kept in a basement for months.

"How are your eyes?" I ask, going over and sitting in the chair beside his bed

He looks at me with an almost sad look on his face.

"Did they tell you I have hyperthymesia?" He asks

I almost laugh at how quick the sparkle comes back to his eyes

"No, they didn't. That's pretty cool, though" I say

He just looks at me for a second

"Yea. That's why I live the best I can. I figure if I have to remember it all for the rest of my life, might as well make it worth watching on a loop. I'll remember you, in that chair, for the rest of my life. Sometimes I pray for early onset Alzheimer's" he says, laughing

That sounds really sad to me. Living and remembering everything you've ever done, good or bad.

I don't know what to say, so I watch him watch me.

"Well my memory is pretty shitty" I finally say, and it makes him laugh