Am I?


brian6_icon.gif samara2_icon.gif

Scene Title Am I?
Synopsis Sami checks on the Brian (and Kasha and Emily) at the Chinatown Apartment
Date March 5, 2011

Confucius Plaza — Brian's Apartment


Wake up Maggie, I think I got somethin to say to you~

The song has been on repeat. Apparently Brian has been very enamored with it. The TV is playing a random show, the remote buried deep under the cushions. The coffee table is even more covered with mess this time than it had been on Samara's previous visit. The window in the living room has been opened. The smell being filtered out more effectively by the outside chill. It's a little cold in the apartment, but it seems that Brian doesn't really care.

The microwave goes beep beep beep. Brian makes his way into the kitchen from the master bedroom. Popping it open the hotdog is taken out with a hiss from his lips he throws it into a bun. Shaking his fingers he goes to the pantry. Glancing over to the bedroom, just to make sure the sudden beep beep didn't wake the children he goes to grab a bottle of ketchup. Then back to the hot dog.

It's been another day of living in a strange apartment. Pretending it's home. Taking care of children he doesn't know. But it's better than living in his car. He doesn't even know where his car is. The food should last him a few more days.

It's late September and I really should be back at school~

There's no use to unlocking the door today, even if she has a key. Walking through the door like it's nothing with several grocery bags in hand, Sam at least prefaces her entrance, "Hello?" like she doubts someone is actually around. She'd considered knocking, but then what was the point with a key? And then with the bags it didn't seem worth putting them down to fish for the key. If she'd seemed pale-faced and exhausted on Tuesday, today she's downright ghostly, but she's kept it together. Somewhat. Kind of. Lack of sleep has produced dark circles underneath her eyes, not a good sign considering the stress her body has been put under recently. And it's not all for lack of trying.

I know I keep you amused but I feel I'm being used~

"Hi," she regreets as she sets the bags on the counter top. It's an odd greeting, unsure in many respects, nearly apprehensive from a self-proclaimed chatterbox who has to force a smile that never touches her eyes. Perhaps she should be warmer, but the shock hasn't worn off. Not yet. A discerning eye is cast along with the building mess in the apartment.

"I… thought you might need some things…"

Oh Maggie I couldn't have tried anymore~

Brian swings his gaze over to the door, practically stumbling backwards at her sudden entrance. Jumping, he brings himself to stop in his aaa moment. "So you can go through stuff." He lets out, taking a few deep breaths. Brian places his hand on the counter to stabilize himself. In the moment of panic the ketchup squirts all over his hot dog. :( Placing down the bottle, he looks down at his now soaked food. Looking up at Samara he gives a weak smile. "Here let me help you."

Crossing the kitchen quickly, the unshaven Brian goes to take the grocery bags from Samara and place them on the counter. Winters gives her a weak smile. "How are you?"

You lured me away from home just to save you from being alone~

Sami's eyes widen a little with surprise at the question, but she nods slightly, "Yeah. SLC-expressive and all that— " the words come out somewhat flatly as she shrugs her shoulders a little. "Y— " she shakes her head a little. "Brian was the one who recognized it for what it was." This brings a small frown, but willing she yields the bags.

She sighs heavily as she forces a strained smile. "I'm okay. Tired…" there's something humourless about her smile, especially as it extends with a non-chuckle. "Sorry… I'm not normally— " like this. Or having to treat him like a stranger. She shrugs again as her head shakes and she holds out a single hand in apology, "You know how Emily and Kasha are orphans? Well there's more than that. Just not babies."

You stole my heart, and that's some pain I can do without~

Setting the bags on the counter. He lets out a little laugh. "That's weird we have the same name." He murmurs pushing the bags over the counter some. Brian pushes up on his toes to peer in the bags. Food. Yay. That should last him a few more days. "Thank you." He smiles brightly turning to face her. "Like thanks so much." He gives her a more warm smile. "Your fiancee is a lucky guy. You're really pretty. And nice."

Leaving the bags without bothering to put the items inside away, he goes to walk into the living room. Settling down on the couch he gives a little shake of his head. "No need to be sorry. I'm very grateful."

”I’m not right now. I normally look different. Just been a trying few months, I guess.” The abandoned bags on the counter has Sami crinkling her nose. She lingers a few moments before sighing quietly and taking to empty each in turn. She stayed here enough to have an idea of where things belong. Her neck cranes as her head turns towards the living room to project her voice there, "I got stuff to make pasta sauce," one of the things her Brian knew how to make, "I hope you know how— " there's a short pause, "I could probably teach you if you don't." Maybe. She's watched before. But there's no denying cooking isn't her strength. "And I bought some stuff for fajitas.." she cringes slightly and folds the bags together before taking them from the counter.”

Several paces take her to the living room where she begins going about her little bit of tidying work. She’s never been a neat freak, but.. some things just should be addressed. “How are you doing? Emily and Kasha okay?”

One hand flings in dismissal as Samara starts to go cleaning. "I'll do that." Brian lets out. Later. You know. Pasta sauce? "The type you just pour in the pan?" Winters asks. Or what should be Winters. He watches her for a moment before pressing on the couch, going to stand. "You don't need to clean for me." He lets out, giving a little smile. "Yeah they're fine. Emily and Kasha are fine." He murmurs quietly.

"They're just sleeping. They sleep a lot." Babies. He looks around at the general mess. "So.. More orphans. Umm, did you find your guy? What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's more complex than that," Sam actually cracks half a smile. "I'm not a good cook, but Brian, he taught me how to make this simple sauce," she shrugs a little. "You see…" it feels weird telling this story. "I…" a glance is given the door before she takes a deep breath, time for the fastest explanation possible, "I don't just walk through things I just vanish like and so people can’t hurt me when I’m all disappear-y and the first time I phased— that’s what we call it— I couldn’t be seen after and I thought i was dead for four years there had been this big explosion in midtown and I thought I had died anyways so I didn’t cook in that time which left my skills in want except I wasn’t a dead ghost I was just phased out— “ she gasps for a breath, “and Brian figured it out. So.” Her gaze turns downward.

It’s now that she stops her cleaning, retreating to a seat on the couch as she peeks around, looking at everything other than her non-fiancee as she considers what happened to her fella, “I..” she nearly whispers. “It’s complicated. With Brian. He.. he woke up one day and didn’t recognize me. Or our home. I..” she shakes her head tightly while her hand drops to her lap. “That’s all. I can’t explain it.” Her eyes begin to well with unshed tears, but she blinks them back; she’s strong, she can handle this, “He doesn’t know who I am.”

Starting to follow her, all her explanation has him pausing. He just stands there for a long moment. His eyes centering on her back, waiting a long moment he finally starts to speak once again. "You said, that he disappeared." Brian goes to lean against the counter, staring after her. Her fiancee woke up and didn't recognize her. He woke up one day in a strange place. Not knowing how he got there, not knowing where his car was. His lips purse, starting to open his mouth.

"Have you gotten help? To figure it out? I have some friends who might be able to help him."

"He did disappear," Sam says to the wall. "After.." her eyebrows knit together and her head shakes again. She doesn't know what to say about it. Her eyes flit back to him, it's haphazard, tentative, somewhere between trust and distrust. "I haven't. I was hoping somehow things would just figure themselves out." Her fingers trace along the bottom of her eyes, dismissing moisture she doesn't permit to fall. With a sniffle she clears her throat, "Who? Who do you know?"

"Teo." Brian answers simply. "Teo knows a lot about.. stuff. He would probably be able to help." Brian offers peering at her, his gaze skipping away when she flits her gaze back to him. He goes towards the counter, going to look at the food she got him. "If not him. I mean. I don't know if you… We could pray about it."

"If you can find your friend, then. Please?" Not that Sam knows this Teo person. When Brian moves back towards the kitchen, she follows, but lingers behind, "I honestly don't know what to do about it. I have friends too. That know a lot of things, but I really hoped things would just work themselves out. I see that's not going to happen now. Maybe that's the story of my life? I'm not.. I'm a sunny side up kind of person. I thought I was dead and I still— I could see good. In everything. I could see good." Subconsciously, one hand grasps her arm uncomfortably. "Have you ever thought.. are some people just not meant to be happy? I mean. Genuinely happy. I used to think it was a choice. A decision, you know? Like somehow things just worked out. Now?" she shrugs. "I don't know anymore. i'm thinking of rewriting my life and all that entails." She presses her lips together firmly. It's something she's been letting weigh over her thoughts.

The notion of prayer has her arching an eyebrow. That's interesting. Something odd begins clicking for her. The last Brian that didn't recognize her accused her of being with the Company. Which doesn't exist. This one just asked her to pray… as much of a chatterbox she is, she also is a great listener. "You don't know how you got here, right? Were you in New York at the time?"

Listening quietly, Brian leans over the counter. His arms fold over each other as he watches her quietly. "I don't even know where we are." He smiles a little dumbly. "Somewhere in Chinatown? He's not the kind that has a phone or anything." He gives a little shrug. Another difference. The Brian Samara knew always had an answer or a way to track down an answer. This one seems rather inclined to give up on the actual action. Praying is much easier. "Happiness is never promised." He answers, giving a sad smile. "But at least for me, I can always be comforted by the joy I have. Happiness is different."

"Like this.. I just woke up in this random apartment. With babies here right? I don't know where your fiancee went or where you were. But if I didn't wake up here? The babies would have been sick, or got real hungry or.. I don't know." He doesn't want to say died. That might make her feel real bad. "So like. I have the joy in me that God is using me. I woke up for a purpose. I have no idea how I got here, or why I'm here. But I'm confident this is like a miracle. I'm being used. And all I have to do is be faithful." He gives a little nod. "Yeah. I was sleeping in my car. Last I knew."

”Joy isn’t like that. Life isn’t like that. Where there’s hope— where there’s goodness and light, this world aims to remove it,” Sam answers flatly. “I..” her eyes flit down to the floor and then up to the ceiling, somehow managing to miss Brian entirely in the scan. “I wouldn’t leave them alone,” she counters about the babies. “But I can’t do this. This wasn’t supposed to happen.. I’m not.. cut out for this. I’m not a parent. I’m not a caregiver. I haven’t even told the kids what happened. They deserve better. And for the record? This isn’t a miracle. Coming back to life after being gone for four years and finding someone to love and something to live for? That was a miracle. This? This is a curse. This is worse than dying. When I died I got to watch my family grieve. This? Here? Now? Now I’m just forgotten. No one. Nothing. So not only have a I physically disappeared, but I’ve been forgotten.”

Finally she asks the question she’s been fighting not to, “What year is it?”

Brian arches his brows some, lips creasing. The young man peers at her as she manages to get through her explanation. He watches in some sadness. Tapping his hands against the counter. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it was a miracle for you… It's a miracle that I was brought here somehow. I mean.." His lips close as he pushes away from the counter. Stepping towards Samara, he goes to lift a tentative hand towards her shoulder. Going to touch it gently, "Miracles can come out of sadness. We just…" He tilts his head at the question. "Feelin great in oh eight."

The hand on Sam's shoulder actually has her cringing under the touch, the gun to her head too current in her memory to easily be ignored. Goosebumps quite visibly form down her neck underneath it. "This isn't a miracle. This is a tragedy. It's not sadness. There's nothing to cry over. Because as near as anyone can tell, nothing happened." Her chin lifts at the date though while a vague frown creeps over her features. "It's two thousand eleven," she counters with a shake of her head. "It's not.. the world it.."

Brian's hand recoils from her shoulder rapidly. Taking his own step away towards the window. Wyoops. His hands fall to his side. Going to stand near the counter, he looks down eyes lidding somewhat. Lips pulling back. Somehow he's feeling like this is his fault. And then she tells him it's two thousand eleven. He lets out a breathless laugh at the statement. Before he stares at her. She doesn't seem to be joking. Not in the slightest. His mouth closes. "What are you saying?"

"I.. I don't know," Sam admits quietly while she slides back towards the window. "I think you lost some time. Or something." She swallows hard, unsure of herself while her hands shove into her jean pockets. Her eyebrows knit together tightly as she slides away again, this time almost like a guilty retreat. She shouldn't have brought it up; it's a bad idea, evidenced by the end of the pistol she'd been privy to, even if it's the truth. If the other Brian didn't believe her, why would this one? There's no reason. Her eyes steal off to the side before resting on the tinkered-with robot on the table. "So when you were in your car it was oh eight? I.." her eyebrows tighten further.

Brian stands there for a long moment. Staring at her. Taking a step back, he bites down on his lower lip. Lost in thought, his eyes roll lazily towards the window. A lot of inconsistencies. Things are looking weird. Very weird. He looks over his shoulder to her. Lips curling up in a nervous smile. He pauses for a long moment. "This.. This might be a dumb question. But aha.." He shuts his mouth. No that's too stupid. "Sorry. Stupid question. Um.. Am.. This sounds so dumb. Am I your fiancee?"

A glance is cast over Sam’s shoulder now, back towards the door, nearly awkward in silent consideration. When her head turns back towards the kitchen, the glassiness of her eyes is impossible to hide, but by sheer will she doesn’t let any tears falls. “You.. don’t remember me,” she nearly chokes on the words as she takes a single step back towards the door. “But.. “ she sucks back a deep breath of air, a plug for the waterworks that she can’t afford. No crying during the daytime. That was the rule she gave herself. “..then you haven’t met me.” She gasps for another breath, “Yet.” Her head turns back towards the door. “Maybe I should go.”

Watching her quietly, his brows move up some. He stares almost in a daze. Brian doesn't even remember how he got on the couch, staring at the TV on mute. He glances up at her, the guilt is overwhelming. But the rollercoaster of emotions he gets there is a little exciting. He's in the future? He got a girl? He got a girl like that? He's going to get married? Or he was. Until apparently he forgot everything. He purses his lips. "I don't know if this has anything to do with anything. But.. I used to have a power too. I could replicate myself. But.. it isn't working." He admits. "I can't do it. At all." He goes to stand again. "I'm really sorry. I.. I wish. I don't understand this all."

"Sorry. It's.. a lot, I know. I'm sorry. I am." Sam returns her gaze to Brian now, her silent longing for the door interrupted. "And. I'm sorry it must be incredibly confusing and unsettling I'm just really overwhelmed and I just don't know what I'm doing or how to fix whatever happened but waking up and having you point a gun to my head doesn't inspire confidence or easiness or anything and then I haven't told the kids and one of you stole out the window accusing me of negating you when I don't even know how but— " wait. She gasps for air. "The other Brian. The one with the gun accused me of negating him. You can't use your ability.. what if.." she frowns. "There's this person Bri— you told me about who like steals abilities or something. He— you," her eyebrows furrow tightly, "was going to avoid— but.. I don't," her head shakes tightly, "I don't understand why you can't remember me."

"Someone stole my ability?" Brian asks quietly, looking down. He looks lost, completely dazed. "How is that even..God gave.." His mouth closes tight as he looks to the window. Searching for some kind of answer. "A gun to your head? That doesn't sound like something I would do. Are you sure it was me?" He asks, bringing one hand to his lips. Scrubbing at the fuzziness all over his face, his eyes close tightly as he tries to sort this out. "I don't either. Are there… Are there other.. me? Maybe one of them knows.."

Sami presses her lips together as she nods a little. Other Brians. "A lot happened in three years," is all she offers about the gun-wielding Brian. "There are others, but I don't know how to get in touch with all of them. I don't even know all the places you are at any given moment." There's a short pause. "But I know where a few are. Maybe. I think. And I'm vaccinated now, although I'm not convinced I should be risking the baby even then I know people get sick with the real flu even when vaccinated sometimes at least that's what the book said and I don't really know what to do about that," her chatter isn't for Brian as much as it is her sorting out her own thoughts. "But there's at least two more in New York." There's a short pause while her nose wrinkles, "They could be really confused— "

Brian watches her quietly, his hand dropping from his stubble. "Oh." His hands drop to either side of him on the couch. He looks over to the open window. Still very confused. "Vaccinated?" What does that even mean. Wait. "Baby?" Brian asks with arched brows. "A baby? With.. Him?" He swallows hard. "Me?" His brows pop up high. He glares somewhat as if trying to connect the dots. "You have a baby with me?" And then in a harsh whispering tone, "We've had sex? But we're not married yet." He seems to have a problem with this. Gaping somewhat, he goes to lean forward. "Maybe you should go see them."

Hmmm. "Yeaaaaah…" the word is long and drawn out as Sam's eyes narrow a little. The scrutiny is something she could sincerely do without. Particularly now. Particularly here. In fact, the weight of her own judgments are already heavily laden. Although few of them involve the assessment this version of Brian seems to have. Near silent steps carry her to the door. "I think I need to go. I'll be back sometime to check on things." And keep the world from falling in on itself. "I'll.. see you another time, Brian," there's an oddity in the name, in its use; in a way, it's nearly foreign on her lips. In the blink of an eye she's through the door— quite literally.

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