Chapter Text
Slow inhale, slow exhale.
Your lashes fluttered open. Night had quietly surrendered to morning, sunlight sneaking through the dark green curtains despite their best efforts. You decided this wasn’t a hospital; the carpet and warm colors made that clear. But was it home? That answer still felt out of reach.
The sheets felt soft under thick, heavy blankets. You slowly used your core muscles, even though it hurt, to push against the blanket.
As you sat up, the room revealed itself in full. No personal touches caught your eye. The ceiling soared, windows reaching up to meet it. You scratched your head, finding your hair wild and oddly greasy—enough to keep a fast-food fryer running for a year, maybe two with discipline.
You made yourself relax your jaw, hoping it would help clear your mind. Even your morning breath tasted strange.
You kept looking around the room, trying to remember the last thing you ate.
Your thoughts came to a screeching halt before one terrible realization could fully form.
What was your last... anything? Drink? Food? Shower?
The room, the curtains, the blankets. You couldn't recognize where they came from. They couldn't have been yours, but you couldn't figure out why. You lifted the blankets off. Not even the clothes were yours. Dark gym shorts with a cartoon on a white T-shirt. Comfortable socks that felt hospital-like.
Terrifying confusion cracked your brain like lightning; you couldn't control your legs. A loud thump resounded through the room as you fell. A bit too loud, like the floor was insulting you on top of everything. Your head began to pound, forcing your eyes to close as you temporarily got dizzy.
Voices on the other side of the door only made your blood pressure pound into your ears. You had little time to figure out what was going on on your own.
Weakly, you army crawled towards the curtains; the only source of light. You struggled; attempts to pull them all the way towards the edge of the window were futile.
Giving up on opening the curtains entirely, you wormed under them, popping your head out on the other side. The white window sills reflected the sunlight until you had to squint.
You were on the second floor. The lawn was perfectly green, with pretty paths which led to different sections of the backyard.
And then, you saw them. You blinked profusely.
A tall, chill giraffe casually walked past the window towards something off to the left of the house.
"What the... fuh-" You muttered before hearing the door opening, and an unrecognizable voice entered.
"She should be just waking up now, Mr. J- Uhm," the doctor said, his large footsteps creaking as he broke off his sentence in a frozen panic. The man he was talking to walked in and immediately noticed the same thing.
Biting your lip, you didn't dare to move. You heard fussing about the room; the doctor explained, walking around the bed to check if you had fallen onto the other side, "Sometimes patients accidentally fall out of their beds..."
"And try to escape?" A softer, more amused voice said. You could tell he was standing a little bit behind you, a foot from your very obvious legs extended from the curtain. He was staring at the doctor and gently pointing to you, with a big smile on his face. The doctor relaxed a bit and began to make the bed, letting the man talk to you.
"You know we see you, right, Miss?" He said. You cursed under your breath as you peeked from underneath the curtain. Slowly, you locked eyes with him. In a red sweater, the gentleman grinned gently at you.
He took his other hand from his pocket as he leaned down to your level. "I'm glad to know that you're awake and ready to take on the day, but you might still need to rest some more. May I help you up?"
Speechless, you nodded. You weren't sure if you would need a lawyer, if this was anything nefarious. You reached a hesitant hand out, gently placing it on one of his palms. He helped you sit up as the doctor pulled back the curtain towards the wall.
"There we go. Nice and easy."
"Let's get her to the bed," the doctor suggested. The red-sweatered man nodded to him before facing you again. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking for permission.
Clearing your throat, you nodded. The two men carefully helped you stand up and moved you back to the bed. You sat down, and the younger man took one of the blankets on the top layer and placed it around your shoulders.
"Alright, before we get started, Miss, I'm Dr. Case Baker." Dr. Baker was a solid man, taking up as much space as he could, all while one-handedly being one of the kindest doctors in all of LA. "I've specialized in patient amnesia, due to the fact that everyone suffers great injury whenever I hit the clubs. I've found it really useful. I'm a Taurus, ginger, and I love water. Especially streams." He giggled to himself, holding a clipboard. He glanced at the other man, who raised one eyebrow.
Dr. Baker shrugged and signaled to you, "You've suffered great amnesia, is what I'm basically trying to tell you," he clicked a pen, "However, amnesia should not affect your mental abilities at all. You should still remember the basics, like what your name is-"
"Or where you're from." The other man spoke up curiously. For a second, neither of you looked away. It wasn't awkward exactly, just strangely difficult to be the first one to blink.
You lost, glancing down at your fingers. Your palm began to feel sweaty, even though there wasn't a drop. Or maybe it happened when you'd taken his hand. You glanced at him before forcing yourself to look at the pillows.
"I... I'm from... Close to here... That's... I don't remember too much now..." Your mind was drawing blanks. They continued to wait patiently as you rubbed your face. The man curiously studied you. You were very calm as you tried to think. Until Dr. Baker spoke up, "This is entirely normal for a retrograde trauma. Don't force it, or you'll give yourself another migraine. What about the year? Do you know what year it is, oh sweet child of mine?"
The man in the red sweater shot him a look before returning his eyes back to you.
"Twenty t-" You started; the year 2026 sounded vaguely familiar; however, their eyes immediately grew to the size of oranges. You cleared your throat. So... not in the 21st century... You forced a chuckle, scratching your neck, "Oh, year? Sorry, I uh...thought you say... Date." You stuttered for a bit more, glancing up at a large calendar comically hiding above the doctor.
Sitting on top of it was a digital clock with blocky, glowing red numbers, and right next to it was a physical, paper calendar with a picture of a shiny, vintage sports car.
The big bold letters at the top read: OCTOBER 1981.
"Um... nineteen... eighty..." You thought back to the sky. It did not look like October wherever you were. The calendar must have been behind, so you added, "Two?"
The doctor made a small note on his clipboard, hiding a satisfied smile, "Good, you had us panicking for a second. If you were a time traveler, they'd have to make a movie about you!"
"Haha, yeah," You muttered, "Wasn't a big fan of Back to the Future, so I guess they'll have to change it."
"Back to the Future?" The other man spoke up, brows raised. "Never heard of that one before."
"Me either. But maybe we're the uncultured ones, Mike."
"Mike?" You said, glancing at him. He nodded, then dabbed at his nose with an exaggerated, playful gesture, flashing you a mischievous wink before exclaiming, "Oh! How rude," He leaned forward, reaching his hand out, "I'm Michael."
You shook it, slowly telling him your name. He smiled, "You definitely look like you'd be named that."
Slight offense taken, you turned back to the doctor with a small smile.
"Hehe...Yeah, you got run over by him. Just for your information," he said with a deadpan expression.