Not Quite The Same (Hiatus)

Chapter Twenty Five

(A/N: Okay, so I have no idea how long it takes to get from Colombia to California, but I know that it takes a long while. Let's just, for now, say that it takes about 2 days even though I know that nots even close to accurate lol. Also, because school starts up for me in about 4 days, the updates are going to be really slow but I'm still going to write and shit so don't worry. It'll just take longer than usual.)

The Asset sat on the metal table as a boy came in.

He couldn't remember his name.

That was normal.

His back was to the boy.

The boy, or man, really, cleared his throat.

The Asset turned around.

He could tell that the boy was nervous and panicked.

He didn't know why, though.

"Hi."

The boy said it quite dumbly, really.

The Asset simply nodded in response.

The boy looked almost lost.

He slowly took a step forward.

"I'm Scott."

The Asset nodded again before remembering, somehow, that he was being called something else beside 'The Asset'.

"Genim."

Genim.

It sounded odd in his mouth.

He had never had a name, not one that he remembered.

This one was sort of a... Default.

There was still that 'S' name he had though of.

But what was it?

A nickname maybe?

He didn't know.

That didn't surprise him.

An awkward silence hung in the air.

The boy, Scott, broke it.

"Look, uh, Genim. I'm sure you're just as confused as we are. Do you have an explain how you got here?"

The A--... Genim was surprised that Scott hadn't stuttered, being as nervous as he was.

Genim let the first words he thought of slip from his mouth.

"I escaped."

Scott looked shocked and slightly confused.

"W-What do you mean?"

This should be fun.

~*~*~

As Stiles started his story inside with Scott, Melissa and the others busied themselves with the sheriff. They all attempted to keep him distracted, telling him that they were doing everything they could to find Stiles whenever he brought his son up. Melissa brought him over to another room, not too far from the morgue.

However, after about 7 minutes of excuses, John got fed up. He cut Melissa off, who was telling him again that they were still trying to find him. "I get that." John said, his voice raised. "I get that you're trying to find him, but I can't just stand here and wait for something to happen."

"John--" Melissa tried but was cut off again.

"No more excuses, please, Melissa." He just about begged. "I'm sorry but I can't help but feel that you're hiding something." There was a pause. "Please, tell me if you are."

Melissa glanced to her left and right, something she sometimes did when she was nervous. She pursed her lips and swallowed nervously. All of this just tipped John off, leading him to think that she as hiding something. He lowered his voice to a more soothing and calm voice. "Please, tell me." He said, a little desperate.

Melissa sighed. She couldn't keep this up forever. She knew that he was stubborn and although she loved that about him, it also drove her insane most of the time. She looked away as she mumbled, "We may or may not know where he is."

John perked up and immediately demanded, "Where?"

"John--"

"Where's my son?!"

The confusion, anger, frustration finally boiled over and he yelled. He honestly didn't mean to snap, not at her anyway; It just happened. He sighed as a regretful look crossed over his features. "Where is he?" He asked more calmly.

Melissa wiped the shocked look on her face that had appeared. She adopted a sorry look and licked her lips. "He's here." She muttered, looking down then up at him.

His eyes widened and he went to go walk out and search every room in the entire fucking building, when Melissa cut him off. "John, wait." She told him. He stopped. "The situation is... Complicated."

"What do you mean?" He asked, concerned.

"Stiles. He, uh..." Melissa stuttered. "He..."

"What is it?" John repeated.

Melissa took in a deep breath, knowing that he'd probably take it badly. She looked down, swallowing nervously, before looking back up and blurting it out.

"Stiles has amnesia." She rushed out. John's features went from confusion, to shock, to a mixture of horror and stunned nervousness.

"He doesn't remember anything."