"We have to move faster!" John said, his eyes moving rapidly under his closed eyelids. "Gina accidentally tripped the alarm. We won't get another chance, we have to do it now!"
Marlena was quickly jotting down her notes, and had already flipped the cassette tape to the other side for recording. Todays session had been surprising. Marlena usually placed John under hypnosis and guided him based on his last session, but today, he had immediately gone somewhere else.
Stefano had used John as his mercenary, that was common knowledge. John being an art thief was not, but then Marlena thought about John's odd behavior when the codices were unveiled, and how he had disassociated while his hands hovered over the glass case. Marlena had pulled him back, getting his attention by whispering his name fervently in his ear. She remembered looking around, and hoping they hadn't drawn any attention. John had been confused and disoriented afterwards, telling Marlena he needed to go home.
"John, your partner. Her name is Gina, does she have a last name?" Marlena asked him.
"Von Amberg. Princess Gina von Amberg," he said. "Fuck!" John shouted. "We have to go, now!"
"John, step outside the memory. Can you do that?"
"Yes," he said, catching his breath slowly. "Yes."
"You're at a museum? Which one?"
"It's a home. Someone's home."
"Which painting are you after?"
"A Cézanne," he whispered, with a small smile. "Pyramid of Skulls. Stefano needs it for his collection. Gina paints the counterfeits. No one will even know it's gone."
"John, I'm going to bring you out now. You will remember everything you've told me, and you will even be able to recall your feelings for Gina, as well as what she looked like. I'm going to count backwards from five, and when I get to one, you will open your eyes...five...four...three...two...one..."
John's eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Marlena for a moment, overwhelmed with everything he had just learned. "Doc..." he started to say, but he couldn't even form a coherent thought. His hand reached for her, and she stood up, coming to sit beside him.
Marlena touched his cheek softly, "Are you okay?"
"He had me stealing fucking paintings?"
"John, it's a lot, I know. I have the recordings for this session. You may want to...you may want to go over them again, as well as my notes," she said softly.
"Gina...Doc, the woman named Gina...she looked like Hope," he said. "She looked just like Hope."
"I wonder if there's a way to research her? Maybe Shane knows something about her?"
"I was in love with her, Doc. I know that...I can still feel it," he said.
Marlena's heart jolted. She knew she shouldn't ask, but yet she couldn't stop herself, "Do you still love Gina?"
John looked up at her, thinking that he loved Marlena more than anything or anyone in the world, and he whispered, "No. But I did once." He tossed his legs over the side of the couch, standing up abruptly. Shoving his hands through his hair, John walked towards the window in Marlena's office, and said, "This is all so fucked up, Doc!"
Marlena approached him, smoothing her palm over the back of the flannel shirt he wore for his work on the docks, "John, we're going to take all of these pieces and put the puzzle together. I promised to help you do that."
The heat of her hand, made him tremble, and the breathy sound of her voice had his cock reacting in his pants. John knew he should step away. He was so vulnerable after these sessions. Without turning around, he said roughly, "I know we will, Doc. I know that. It's everything, you know? Isabella's planning the wedding, the baby coming in a couple months, and the dreams...my dreams have become more frequent since we started the hypnosis."
"Do you remember them?"
"Some of them. I remember bits and pieces when I wake up, but then it's almost as if they disappear and they never were," John said softly.
"Have you thought about keeping a notepad beside the bed? We could use your dreams to help guide your sessions," she said, as she stared at her hand, still resting on John's back. She had an almost overwhelming desire to rest her face on his back, to rub her cheek on him, and breath him in for comfort.
Marlena stepped back so quickly, that John glanced back at her curiously, wishing he could pull her back to him. "You all right, Doc?"
"I'm fine, John," she said, walking across the room, gathering up her tape recorder and her notes from their session. "I really think a notepad next to your bed might help us in this process."
"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that," he said distractedly, while staring at Marlena's shapely ass. He could imagine lifting her skirt, and gripping her hips while he slid into her wet heat. It was almost too much for him. In a raspy voice, he said, "I need to get to work."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Marlena watched John closely. They were having weekly sessions, and each one seemed to be more intense than the last. Having filled one notebook, she had gotten another one. John's last session had been intense. After he'd left her office in such a hurry, she had fallen to the couch in a mixture of relief and regret. Both dangerous emotions when viewed through a lens of emotional infidelity.
John was under hypnosis, but something was different this time. Although his eyes darted back and forth, he seemed unable to move or speak.
"Is he adequately sedated, Rolf?" Stefano asked with curiosity.
"He's awake, but unable to move," Rolf replied. "I can do the surgery, keeping him awake, so that I can gauge his brain function, while keeping him immobile at the same time."
"And this microchip, it will allow you to switch him back and forth between memories? Personalities?" Stefano wondered.
"Yes. He has the memories of the the surgeon, and the art thief,...just as you requested," Rolf said. "We can potentially add more later, if you wanted. There is additional memory on the chip. He will still retain his own memories, those of the seminarian Forrest Alamain, although, as you requested, those memories were modified. He will believe he graduated the seminary and was ordained."
"You can do that? Make him believe he was ordained when he wasn't?" Stefano asked excitedly.
"I already have," Rolf said with a smile, impressed with his own genius.
John heard everything. Every word seared into his mind as fear welled up inside him. He had to remember who he was. He was Forrest Alamain. He was twenty-two years old. He was going to be a priest and spend his life serving G-d. As much as he tried to move his body, he was frozen, unable to even twitch his smallest finger.
"So, the microchip...you are able to link it directly to his nervous system. How amazing, Rolf! Imagine what we will be able to do with this technology!"
"I'm already working on updating this prototype. The things I might be able to do with this..."
"Gina has finished the three paintings I asked for, once you have completed the implantation, his training will begin," Stefano said.
John's eyes continued to move rapidly. He hadn't spoken for several minutes, and Marlena was worried. John had never gone under hypnosis, and frozen up like that before. Leaning forward to place her notebook on the table, Marlena sat beside John, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, realizing his skin was cold and clammy. She couldn't wait, and decided to bring him out of the hypnosis. "John, I'm going to bring you out now. I want you to remember everything you've seen...five...four...three...two...one..."
His eyes opened in a flash and his body jolted forward, as a scream of panic ripped from his throat, "No!"
Something was wrong. Marlena could sense it. She reached for him, touching his face softly, gently, "John...John, honey, look at your surroundings. You're in my office. Do you recognize it?"
"Yes," he rasped, still looking around with panic filled eyes. "Yes." He turned his head, his eyes locking with hers. It was then that she noticed the tears, falling over his cheeks.
"Oh, John," she said softly, her heart breaking for the pain she saw in him. Wiping the wetness from his cheeks with her thumbs, she reached forward, and pulled him into her. John's arms wrapped around her, as he barely choked out, "Doc...Doc..."
He remembered what he saw, what he'd experienced. Very slowly, he lifted one arm from around her, and gingerly touched the back of his neck. He'd never thought about it. It had never been a concern for him, but he ran his fingers over it now. The small scar, just under his hairline.
Marlena pulled back, looking down at John, and realizing how close they were. Her breath hitched, as she said, "You didn't move at all. You didn't say anything, but your eyes were rapidly moving back and forth...you were only under for a few minutes, but I was worried. Something happened."
"Doc...I think there's something in my neck...a microchip, wired into my nervous system," John said softly. "I was in surgery. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. Rolf and Stefano were discussing the memories they were giving me." Marlena couldn't speak for shock, but quickly snatched up her notepad, and checked to make sure the recorder was still on. She started taking notes, as John continued speaking, "I was twenty-two. A seminarian, but not ordained. Rolf had mapped the minds of an art thief, and a surgeon...I don't know their names...but I feel like it's—shit! It's in my head somewhere, but I can't get to it!"
John's deep blue eyes stared into Marlena's hazel ones, and both of them felt their breathing stutter a little. He was feeling completely lost, the fear, and the anger still ravaging his body. He'd been a victim of a mental hijacking, and the only person he trusted to help him was six inches away. His hand reached up, almost of its own volition, and he touched her cheek softly, saying, "The only person I can trust is you."
"John," Marlena whispered. "You have people who love you. You have Isabella."
He sighed, letting his hand drop to his leg, murmuring, "Isabella."
"Don't you?" she asked him.
John looked away, "Sure."
Marlena hated to think that John had these sessions with her, reliving trauma that he'd endured, and had no one to talk to about it in his life. "She's still not supporting you," she stated.
He didn't reply. He couldn't reply. Isabella took every opportunity to try and convince John to stop his sessions with Marlena. Her insecurities and her distrust of Marlena driving every conversation. So, instead of replying to Marlena's words, John leaned forward, enveloping her in his arms again, and tucked his face into her neck breathing deeply of her perfume.
Holding him while he shook in her arms, Marlena was very aware that they had crossed the line of professionalism. She would never hold a patient the way she was holding John. She would never allow a patient to hold her, the way she was allowing John to hold her, but his pain was palpable, and she couldn't ignore that.
She felt his nose slowly move along the column of her neck, and she felt his inhalation against her skin. Softly, he brushed his lips over her, not kissing her, just a brush of his pillowy lips over her flesh. Marlena's body shuddered, and she laced her fingers into his hair, scratching her nails over his scalp. A moan escaped him, "Marlena..."
Her body nearly quaked with desire when John moaned her name. She tried to pull away from him, but he clung to her tighter, "Doc, please..."
"John...stop," she said softly. "We can't do this..."
But then his lips kissed her collarbone softly, and he whispered against her skin, "I just need to forget." He kissed her again at her jawline. A soft, open kiss, that left a faint moistness behind which chilled in the air of the room. "Just let me forget," he said, kissing her cheek.
Her mind was at war with her heart. There was no other way to explain it, as he kissed her again at the corner of her mouth. Marlena pulled back, intent on pushing him away, but he looked at her, and they were so close, she could read his soul in one glance. She gave up, uttering, "Oh, G-d!" right before John's lips moved softly over hers. It was a gentle kiss, soft lips pulling at hers, while she gasped out breathy pants against his mouth.
John licked over her, brushing his tongue alongside hers as her flavor exploded over him. John pulled back, brushing her hair from her face, and he whispered, "Thank you."