Dimitri Belikov (anti_social_god) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-09-27 22:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | *jeanna, dimitri belikov |
AU Backstory Isaac Rojas
Who: Isaac Rojas (Dimitri Belikov)
When:Sometime earlier this year
Where: A Rehab facility in Germany
What: Isaac remembers
Rating: PG-13 for some mentions of war and injuries
Status: Complete narrative
It was a warm day and he had asked if he could sit in the garden. They were happy to oblige since he was never any trouble and the staff all seemed to like him. Then again why shouldn’t they? It wasn’t as if he could cause any trouble since he didn’t even know his own name or where he came from. All he remembered was the pain. He had never felt anything like it and then there was nothing but blackness. Sometimes he still woke up crying in the night, feeling the pain in his head and his legs but the doctors told him that it was phantom pain, he was healing and physically he was better but he still couldn’t remember. When he first woke up, his head was covered in bandages and he tried to pull them off, that he remembered because they had tied his hands down and he had felt like a trapped animal. That was when he realized he couldn’t feel his legs, he could feel nothing below his waist and that scared the hell out of him. One of the nurses told him that he had been in a coma for eight weeks and they had been afraid that he wouldn’t wake up. They told him he’d been in a helicopter accident, that he was in the army and he’d been hurt badly. The one thing they couldn’t tell him though was his name. His identification hadn’t been on him, his dog tags had been burned in the wreckage. There were no survivors who could tell them anything either so he was nameless. A nameless body in a bed somewhere in Germany. That much he knew. As time passed, he went through several surgeries, one on his brain to decrease swelling and three on his spine. The last one had been to put in a neural implant which was experimental but the doctors were confident it would work and he would be able to walk. That at least was true. He had learned to walk again and while he still needed a cane, he was getting better every day. He was starting to remember his time in the hospital but nothing about the accident that had put him there. It had been two and a half years now and he’d been in this Rehab Center in Germany for several months now. After his brain surgery when he was able to speak and understand better, the first words he’d spoken had been in Spanish. It was the first clue that the staff had as to who he was but after contacting the Spanish military they’d hit a brick wall. There was no one that fit his description that had been reporting missing. The US Army told him the same thing. No one fitting his description was listed as missing, and it was a shot in the dark anyway as his uniform had been cut off him at the scene he’d been told an he could have been from anywhere.They asked him multiple times a day what his name was but he couldn’t tell them because he didn’t know. One of the nurses started calling him “Diego” because she said he looked like someone who would be named Diego and it was a Spanish name. He didn’t complain because it was better than being called John Doe or “the amnesiac patient.” Progress was slow but steady and soon he had regained the ability to speak in English so they at least knew that he was bilingual but that didn’t help much. Every now and then he would remember a word of another language but he never said anything because why would he know Russian? Perhaps he had known someone from the country and had picked up a few words. He didn’t know. It was finally decided that he could stay there and recover even though he had been there far longer than they had expected but there was nowhere to send him. He was able to walk without a cane now and the staff let him do pretty much whatever he wanted. He’d become friends with one nurse in particular, a young woman named Maria. She had long dark hair which she wore in a ponytail when she was working and her smile always made him feel better. When she was on duty she always made a point of coming to visit him for a few minutes and he looked forward to those days. Something was nagging at the back of his brain, there was a reason that he felt connected to her but he couldn’t imagine. That day in the courtyard it suddenly clicked. Maria had come out to visit him on her lunch break and they were sitting there talking when she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze and he remembered. “Dellie,” he’d said although he knew this woman wasn’t her. “My name is Isaac. Isaac Rojas….I’m from Colorado, I have a wife named Dellie, you remind me of her.” Things moved quickly after that, almost too quickly. As he remembered more of his life, he was anxious to get home, to reclaim his life, to see the people he loved. He spoke to his brother and sisters but they’d been unable to reach Dellie, she was away they’d told him. Isaac understood, she liked to travel so he thought nothing of it. They’d have all the time in the world when he got home. Home. At last. |