And in a few days

I will be there, love

Whatever here that's left of me

Is yours just as it was

Hozier - As It Was

"I don't remember."

It had become a staple in any conversation I had with Dr. Tommy Elliot. It had plainly become a source if frustration for him. He looked at brain scans for a living. He dealt with people with brain injuries everyday. My case was "atypical," he had said. With all of the other progress I'd been making in my recovery, and considering I had dreamt about and named someone he'd assumed, correctly, was a figure from my past, he thought I should be having some sort of improvement where my waking memories were concerned. But I wouldn't budge. I wouldn't give him anything.

As far as my physiotherapy was concerned, I was progressing as expected. Getting stronger everyday. I was able to get up and take short walks on the hospital floor. I was able to take myself to my physiotherapy appointments. Today, my sling is finally set to come off and I'll be able to start working on strengthening my arm and shoulder. Keith was just running a few minutes late. I busied myself fidgeting with some fray on the palm of the sling while I waited. Almost fifteen minutes passed before he came through the door with a hurried pace.

"I'm so sorry," he blurted as he rounded his desk to sit down. "I got caught up with a patient upstairs. I tried to cut it short, but there wasn't much I could do to hurry it."

"Oh, yeah, no worries," I assured him. "Ruth told me," I held my arm out as much as I could in the sling. "What do ya say, Keith? Freedom?"

He laughed and stood up. "I guess I did keep you waiting."

He came around and carefully, but easily, removed the sling. I'd had it off whenever I'd needed to shower, but I wasn't allowed to move it. I had to hold it close into my body at the same angle the sling kept it. Keith slowly straightened my arm out. The movement brought a dull throb of pain through the muscles of my arm. There was also an obvious weakness that reminded me of how my legs had felt when I'd first started using them again after waking up. I hissed through my teeth at the pain.

Keith nodded. "Yeah, there's gonna be some of that. But you'll work through it in no time. You're a powerhouse."

I laughed painfully as he continued working my arm in different directions, into different positions, testing my range of motion. "Yeah, I feel like a superhero."

He chuckled quietly and laid my arm at my side. "Not yet, just give it time. Okay, so with this, we're going to get you doing the same for movements, but as you progress, we're going to slowly add weight. I'm going to show you the movements and you just mirror them as best you can, 'kay?" I nodded. "First movement."

He raised his arm in front of him with his arm bent at the elbow, parallel to his chest, and then slowly straightened his elbow and then brought it back in. I followed suit, with effort, and a bit of shaking. "Nice and easy, try for eight repetitions," I suck my lips between my teeth and slowly work through eight repetitions. My arm feels like lead by the end of just the first movement. "Any pain?"

I shake my head. "No pain, but it feels useless. It's so weak."

"This will strengthen it," he urges, gently. "Next movement," he turns in his seat so he's side on to me. He raises his arm to the side, again, with a bend in the elbow, to shoulder height. Then, he rotates his arm so that his fist is in the air, and finally, he straightens his arm. After that, he does each movement in reverse, bringing his arm back to the starting position.

The next movement starts the same as the one prior to it, except rather than straightening his arm, he presses it upward, then back down again. That one hurts a bit, but he assures me that the dull ache is okay, but any sharp or stabbing pain would be alarming. The final movement is simply a shrug, bringing my shoulder to my ear and back down. Each movement for eight repetitions.

"Now that you've got all those down pat, you can head out to the gym and work your legs for the last half of your session. Do the full half hour. My next appointment is an outpatient, he's just going to come right through to the office for a progress assessment, so you can carry on and not worry about it. All good?"

I nod, standing up. "All good."

He gestures to my arm. "You'll have to concentrate on holding your arm naturally for awhile. It'll feel normal again soon enough, but until then, you'll have to focus on it."

I look down. My arm is in sling position. I laugh and lower it to my side. "So, I shall."

...

There are a couple of regulars in the gym working through various injuries. We make light conversation as we work. I'm walking back and forth on the track. I've got less than fifteen minutes left. I turn around just as the door to the physio gym opens up. My eyes naturally move to the doorway, a casual smile, ready to greet the newcomer. It falls when I recognize the person who enters.

Doc.

"It can't be," his voice is disbelieving as his eyes meet mine.

My head suddenly explodes with a headache as I recognize the look on his face as being the same one he wore the last time he saw me. The face behind the rolling doors of the warehouse where I was meant to die. Both hands come to my head as I feel my legs falter.

"Hey!" I hear Keith from across the room. "Derek, call for Dr. Elliot," I can hear everything going on around me. I feel Keith reach my side and ease me into a comfortable laying position on the floor.

I hear Dr. Elliot come into the room and rush to my side. "What happened?"

"I just caught the tail end," the concern is apparent in Keith's voice. "She grabbed her head and fell. She was fine earlier. Normal."

"It happened just as Arthur walked in," Derek, one of the other patients, chimed in. "She saw him and hit the deck."

I feel my headache subsiding and open my eyes in time to see Dr. Elliot stand and turn towards Doc. "Arthur?"

He nods. "Art, actually," Doc's gravelly voice corrects him.

"Do you know this woman?" He points down at me. Soon after, Doc's face comes into view. He still looks surprised, but also sad. My eyes are pleading with him.

He sighs deeply and shakes his head, looking back to Dr. Elliot. "Nah. Thought she was familiar. My niece is missin', but her eyes are blue. Not brown," his eyes meet mine again. "This isn't her."

...

After all of the hullabaloo surrounding my fall had died down, I am alone in my room and able to think about what had happened. Doc had seen me. He knew I was alive. He was also among the group of people who had tried to kill me almost two months ago, now. I knew, from piecing together the coverage, that Warren and his goons had been a part of my beating at the warehouse, and that they'd been killed. I also knew that a Joker card had been placed in the dirt at the scene. I assumed that Jack had likely killed my attackers. So, why was Doc still alive? I have a sinking feeling that there's only one reason he would have been spared. And Jack would have had a tougher time reaching his ever-growing level of notoriety without an ally.

A single, hard knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I look up to see the reason for them standing in the doorway. "Doc," I can't help but gasp.

He has a black duffel bag with him, and I can't help but think it looks ominous. He steps in the room. Panicked, I go to reach for the buzzer to call a nurse. "Don't," he puts a hand out. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I settle for holding the buzzer in my lap. A lifeline. A safety net. "What are you doing here? What's in the bag?"

His eyes still have that disbelieving gleam in them. "Me? What are you doing here? Kaylie, you died. I saw it happen."

I chuckle and look at my hands, fidgeting with the buzzer. "Well, maybe you should go to floor three and get your eyes checked while you're here. They're good there. They've got my left eye about as good as it's going to get. Seventy-five percent vision restored. Slow to react, though. The light can give me headaches."

"I'm sorry, Kaylie," he pulls the visitors chair over and sits down by the bed.

"Fuck you," tears have sprung to my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "And don't call me that. Someone might hear."

He nods and glances around to make sure no one is close by. "I never thought Warren would do that. He was a callous prick, but I've never seem him so vicious. I never would have gone along with that plan. I was expecting Jack."

I look at him, sadness in my eyes meeting the regret in his. "And you got him?" My voice is quiet.

He nods somberly. "Eventually."

A tear finally escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek as I, again, look down at my hands. Doc continues. "Change your name," he urges. "Get out. You're dead. He already knows you're dead. He found you dead and accepted it. He won't dig," he promises me. "You'll be safe. Somewhere else. As someone else. You were beaten to death in that warehouse, doll, how I'm talking to you now, I'll never know," he's still looking at me like I'm a ghost. "I was too weak and too chicken shit to do anything then, but I'm not gonna kill you twice. So go. You don't need to be in this town when he burns it down. Especially a hospital."

I look at him, puzzled at that remark. "What does that mean?"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, just go. Tonight. As soon as you can," he drops the bag next to the bed and kicks it so that it's hidden from sight by the bedside table. "Some clothes. Essentials. And money. Not much, but it'll get you started somewhere. Don't look back. Promise me you'll go," I nod and go to thank him. "Don't you dare thank me," he stands up to leave, gesturing between us pointedly. "I don't wanna see you again, kid," I nod.

I watch him leave.

He doesn't look back.

...

A/N - Painfully familiar faces! I have to admit, Doc is one of my favourite characters from Changes. It was hard knowing he was just standing by while Kaylie was being beaten to death, but that sort of lifelong, goonish loyalty is what keeps someone like Doc alive in the underworld he's chosen to live in. I wanted to give him a little bit of redemption. And, obviously, seeing he's working with the Joker, we haven't seen the last of him. Sorry for this being a day late. I had family Easter stuff all weekend. I hope any of you who celebrate had a nice holiday. I also hope you're all enjoying this story. I know it's slow going, but she did suffer major trauma, so her recovery had to take some time. Now that Doc has lit a fire under her, the ball can really get rolling. Thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed, faved, and followed! See you next week!