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Consciousness crept back to the man in stages. First the pain, duller than it had been when he'd blacked out, but still certainly there. It was an ache now, rather than the sharp stab it had been. It reminded him vaguely of what it'd felt like after he'd taken that spill down the subway stairs--and quite honestly, he hadn't even fully recovered from that yet.

That dull pain was what ultimately had him blinking open his eyes to a ceiling he didn't recognize. Which, admittedly, wasn't the first time that had happened, but this felt different than the morning-after confusion following a drunken one-night-stand. For one thing he was fully clothed by the feel of it. For another, he didn't usually feel like he'd taken a long spin in an industrial sized dryer.

Brows creased in a deep, puzzled frown he tried to think back to what might have lead up to him waking up here, wherever here was, and couldn't seem to connect the dots. Hell, he couldn't even find the dots to connect them. He thought maybe he remembered waking up and taking a shower, but really that could have been any day. What the hell happened? Why can't I remember anything?

Moving hurt, but he brought his hands up to cover his face to press the heels of his palms against closed eyes. Heaving a sigh he pushed fingers back through short hair before planting his elbows into the mattress at his sides to leverage himself into a sitting position. It was then he noticed the small figure curled into the chair beside the bed, and her he certainly recognized. "Rory?"

The confused frown lingered on as he watched Rory jerk awake and cross what little space was between them to reach his side. When she was close enough he reached out to take her hand, reassured by that small touch.

Her he remembered. Her smiling face and soft laugh. Not from the day before, but in general. When he thought hard enough be remembered his apartment, his family, Desdemona and the few people he considered his friends. College, childhood. All that was there, if a little fuzzy around the edges, but there were gaps he couldn't place his finger on but we're certainly there.

He gave her hand a little squeeze, as much for himself as for her. "I feel like I got hit by a bus." Lips drew down into worried frown. "Did I? I can't remember...yesterday. At all." He didn't have enough injured for that, or even a bump on the head that he could feel with carefully probbing fingers.

Maybe he'd been drugged? But if so, why?

Another question bubbled to the surface though, and after a quick glance around the unfamiliar room he looked up at her again. "Where are we?" It wasn't a hospital.

The heavy confusion lingered as he searched Rory's face for answers she didn't seem to have, and as the bud of her lower lip caught betweenher teeth he dropped his gaze to sheets covering his lap, beows creased and lips drawn down intoa thoughtful frown.

It felt like the harder he tried to recall the foggier bits the whispier they became, and what had started as a dull ache was sharping into a full blown headache behind pale eyes.

Then the door was opening and another (semi)familiar face was walking in with a tray held between strong arms. Chase Black, current head of Renegade Media. Why am I in his guest room? He supposed the best way to find out was to ask, but the other man was offering over a couple of pills anda glad of water. Axton hesitated a moment before holding his hand or for them. "What are these?" He didn't think he had any reason to suspect the business man, but he didn't have any reason to trust him either.

"Everything hurts, but I've got a b***h of a headache coming on," he started to answer, but paused, frowned. "Did yousay hand in the chest?" Surely he'd heard that wrong.

He glanced past Chase to Rory at her mention, but pale eyes snapped back up to strong features and mildly commanding voice. "I...had a meeting with you, didn't I? I remember preparing for it, but I can't..." He shook his head, winced, and took the pills in his hand. <******** it, can't make things worse. "I can't really remember more than a few bits and pieces from yesterday morning. What happened to me?"

Chase moved around to take a seat on the edge of the bed opposite where Rory perched and Axton found himself flanked by the pair of them. One confident and calm, the other radiating nervous energy in waves. Rory was worried about him, that much was very obvious to him, but he didn't know why, and that was beginning to worry him as well.

But it was Chase his gaze lingered on, that commanding presence all but demanding his focus. He wasn't even sure if it was intentional or not, but it was impressive. Maybe even a little bit concerning. Being attacked made...sense. He supposed. There were monsters in the city, figuratively and literally.

It was an answer that didn't really clarify much, and instead bred more questions. Axton chewed at the inside of one lip as he tried to recall something of an attack, but there was nothing.

Then he frowned, finally taking in that peculiar phrasing. "What do you mean compromised? And what side?" If he'd been attacked, and Chase had had to step in, then did that mean he was powered? Ax remembered back, years ago, when the carnival he'd been at was targets by...well, if Amphitrite and Jet were to be believed(and he was inclined to believe them.), it'd been senshi that had struck first.

"Oh." He knew what the Negaverse because of the two that'd overseen him and the other folks trapped at the carnival, but being attacked over sympathies he couldn't even remember ever really discussing with anyone? That was odd. Unless he was a lot more lose lipped and chatty when he was drunk than he remembered ever being.

Which he supposed wasn't out of the question, but s**t.

He glanced at Rory when he caught the dip of her head out the corner of her eye, frowning at what she was telling him, because he couldn't remember...

"We were at the ER, last week," he said slowly, brows creased and features puzzled. "I don't know why. Rory, what happened, what did I have to protect you from?" The frown deepened, more thoughtful for a moment. "Are you saying that I'm like," he paused, starting over. "Those senshi, the one's that hit the carnival a few years back?" He looked between Rory and Chase for any sort of confirmation.

His head was starting to pound harder, and he brought his free hand up to press the heel of his hand into the socket of one eye again, trying to massage away the pain but having zero luck.

He'd saved her? Why couldn't he remember that? He hand fell back to his lap as he looked at her helplessly. "I did?" Was that how he'd gotten hurt, the stitches on his chest and the gash along his cheek and chin? He touched the front of his shirt where it brushed against the wound, trying hard to recall how he'd gotten it, but there was just nothing there. "I can't remember..."

Knight wasn't a term he could recall either, but current context suggested someone with powers. "An agent," he repeated, looking up from Rory to chase again as the tall man spoke. "Like Jet, or Amphitrite? No, not her...she's," he thought back to that night, trying to remember how she'd introduced herself. "She's a corrupt senshi, right?"

Rory's apology brought his attention back around to her and when he saw the tears in her eyes he gave her hand a soft squeeze, tugging at her gently to get her to look at him again. "Why you sorry? You were just protecting me, weren't you?" That was just what you did when you cared about someone. "I don't remember being that, a knight, so it's not a big deal, right?" So his memories were a little scrambled, no big deal, you couldn't miss what you couldn't remember, right?

Right?

It made him wonder just home much he'd forgotten, who he'd known, what he'd done, and the reassuring smile he'd flashed her wilted around the edges a little. This was a lot to take in. A lot to process.

"How come you didn't just take me home? Rory know's where I live." This he asked to Chase, turning his head to look up at him again.

Rory's admission drew his attention back to her and he frowned. "Like you?" We would have figured something out. Her insistence came back to him, and Axton's shoulders sagged a little as he pulled in a heavy breath and let it out slowly.

I was selfish. He opened his mouth to ask what exactly that meant, but Chase was answering a previous question and he tipped his head to look up at him, frown deepening as the gravity of the situation really started to sink in for him. That it wasn't just a few lost memories. Glamour was what protected them from being recognized, so if being brought into the Negaverse meant new glamour, than that meant...

"I'm not Axton Finch anymore," he finally said softly, head dipping and gaze dropping to the blanket across his lap. "So my family, my life, my degree...it's all just gone." But if they'd be safer with him gone, then it'd be worth it. That's what he told himself as he ran his thumb along the back of Rory's knuckles.

He didn't have many friends to leave behind, no classmates he'd really feel the loss of. He still had Rory, she wouldn't be going anywhere. Besides his bother and his parents, the only other real connection he valued was Dessy. "********." That one hit him like a ton of bricks, and he was bringing his free hand up again to rest his face in. She'd just come back to the city to him. Now he was losing her again.

"There's no way to talk to anyone I knew before?" It was half muffled and resigned. "To leave a message or anything?"

Moot or not, Axton had been proud of buckling down and actually finishing school to get the degree. It'd been a long road, and a struggle, but he'd pushed himself into finally finishing something important. Seeking employment with Chase had also been a push, which he supposed...paid off? He didn't know whether the man had actually been impressed by him, or simply needed to plug him into some role within the company as a means for him to support himself.

Ax didn't know, and he didn't feel up to asking just then. Not with everything else he had to taken in.

To him it didn't sound like there was very much hope in being able to reach out to the women who'd just walked back into his life. It was dangerous, he realized that. He certainly didn't want to painta Target on anyone's backs, ********. How was he supposed to walk by her ina street and do nothing, say nothing? He could stay away from his family to keep them safe, he should be able to so the same with her. Should be.

The headache that had been going away seemed to be coming back, and he sighed, palm dragging fo down his face. He was still holding Rory's hand, but his was still now, no longer rubbing. She'd done it to keep him safe. She hasn't wanted to lose him. He could...understand that. What wouldn't he do to hold on to the people he cared about?

"Desdemona Anania, she's my...or was," he started, but paused, not entirely sure how to finish that statement. "We we're going to meet up after the interview, either to celebrate or not." He frowned deeper. "Is it still the same day, what time is it?" How long had she been sitting around waiting for him to call her? Had she just come over to his place when she didn't hear from him? <******** class="quote">