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 Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.

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PostSubject: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Tue Apr 12, 2011 5:19 am

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction in its entirety. I am not claiming these events to be true to life in any way, shape or form and do not know any famous persons' mentioned in the story personally. The story itself and OC's are of my own creation and no monies are being made off it. 18+ for adult content. Enjoy Smile

Chapter One.

Gemma’s POV

“You’re out of your mind! I mean it, you’ve gone completely insane” I tell my husband as I shake my head in mild despair.

“Oh hush, no I haven’t. I got a good deal!” he replies, which just makes me shake my head more, this time in all out total despair of his decision.

“That crazy animal has bucked you off three times in the space of twenty minutes, and you’re a good horseman. I’d say that’s insanity and definitely not a good deal” I reply. This ‘insanity’ I’m referring to is the fact my husband just called me an hour ago to inform me he’d brought a horse. I did an internal groan instantly upon hearing him speak the words to me, because I just knew he’d gone back on what we’d agreed. What we’d agreed was that we were not about to purchase another crazy horse from Herb Britton, a local horse breeder who has a habit of breeding animals with several screws loose.

They’re very good horses, with extremely good breeding. But they do happen to all have something in common with the completely nutty stallion he breeds them from, and that’s fire; a hell of a lot of it too. We learned our lesson two years ago with Lacy, a five year old grey filly with one hell of an attitude problem. We sold her on, deciding her winning bloodline wasn’t worth the hassle. I’m a decent trainer and that much I can give myself credit for, but hell I’m not wonder woman!

“He’ll settle. He’s only three and he only had a saddle on his back for the first time four months ago” Christian replies, before hanging onto a handful of mane as the young chestnut gelding (that’s the correct term for a horse sans testicles, by the way) decides to rear up and have another jump around. This time, he manages to stay on board and not hit the dirt for the fourth time.

“I know that, Herb told me when we went to see him yesterday, you know, the day we said ‘thanks but no thanks’ to the man?” I tell him, rolling my eyes as I shield them from the bright sun under my hand.

“He’s from a real nice mare, he’ll be fine. Nothing like Lacy the demon horse” he assures me, while I just snort in disbelief.

“Any horse that comes from the loins of Nordic Storm, aka El Diablo, is crazy in my book. Look! Look at him! He can’t even stand still for five seconds without trying to kick you off!” I reply, shrieking a little at the end as the horse begins to try his luck in throwing Christian off again. He succeeds. “I wish you’d wear a proper riding hat too, instead of a damn Stetson” I then mutter as Christian takes hold of the reins after hauling himself up out of the dust. Alright so I’ll admit it, he has a seat like glue once he’s on a horses back, but if he were to ever fall on his head. Oh god, the thought leaves me cold.

“Remember that my parents were rodeo riders, they taught me to either land on my feet or my ass” he says nonchalantly.

“Yeah, when they did fall, because usually they had some dude come cantering up on another horse and yank them the fuck off before they ended up on the floor!” I snort in reply. It’s not even going to be him who has to deal with this firebrand every day either, it’s my job. My husband as you will know if you’re a fan of his is an actor by trade, and also a successful musician too.

I make my living from buying in young horses, training them to the high standards needed for competition use and selling them on again. It’s been my job for the last ten years (I started up when I was twenty two) and I’ve had all kinds of animals with various behavioural problems to deal with in that time. But knowing where the hell to begin with the tempestuous beast standing in front of me right now is something I just cannot decide.

“As I said, he’ll settle. Calm down Gemma” he assures me, jumping onto his back again and making him walk on obediently. I stand and watch for about another ten minutes before I decide I can take no more, and turn around to go back into our home. He’s always been like this; he sees the good in something or someone before he sees the bad. I suppose that’s a good thing, except when crazy three year old horses are concerned. Oh lord, how I wish he hadn’t of brought him. There’s no point moaning about it now though, what’s done is done and I just have to live with it. Who knows? He could turn out alright. Or he could just follow his bad tempered sire, the champion 3 day event horse Nordic Storm and be a handful for the rest of his life.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my ten years it’s that selling on a horse with an unfixed attitude problem earns you a bad reputation. That’s why I sold Lacy back to Herb (at a loss I may add) instead of to an unsuspecting customer. I wasted a year trying to sort her out to no avail. I won’t let one animal with a naturally bad temperament ruin what I’ve worked so hard for. Okay so I’m not churning out international winners, but I make a good profit and that’s because I have a continuous stream of good horses coming my way. I’ve gone from a girl renting two stables to keep the only two horses she could afford at twenty two years old (also working as a check in girl at a local nightclub in the evenings to make ends meet), to a woman who owns a huge ranch in Nevada, with twenty stables. Ten house the horses I bring on; another two house mine and Christian’s own horses and the other eight houses the horses whose owners I lease them to. Also I have around three hundred acres of land. Well, I didn’t buy it all, heavens no! The man I’ve been married to for the last eight years owns half of it.

It was just before I brought my first two horses that I met Christian for the very first time. I was up in Los Angeles spending a long weekend with my best friend Bridgette who lived there at the time. I was out with her and her boyfriend Ian at a bar, and he was with a group of guy friends..........

“So, you’ve gotta play third wheel to your friends huh? Unlucky” he said to me, appearing at my side by the bar just as I was handing the barkeep a twenty.

“You said it” I replied, turning to look at him and noticing he was the same gorgeous guy I’d had my eye on casually for the past half an hour.

“You shouldn’t be the third wheel, you’re far too pretty. You should be the girl with the guy on her arm, so where is he?” he replied, looking to my side and then back at the table I’d come from before his eyes fell upon mine again. I thought at that moment I hadn’t seen blue that bright since I went to Barbados and witnessed the bluer than blue ocean with just a hint of green. That’s the kind of blue his eyes reminded me of.

“There is no guy” I replied as I took my change and put it back in my purse.

“How is that even possible?” he asked me as he smiled in disbelief. I couldn’t answer right away. Mainly because I didn’t really know, but also because the way he was looking at me made me feel uncomfortable. It made me feel uncomfortable in a good way, I should say.

“I have to get these back to my friends” I said, picking up the beers off the bar and then turning back to him, smiling at him as I felt my cheeks turn a little pink.

“Well you think of an answer, because I’m going to ask you again later” he said, before smiling again and heading back to his buddies. Ask again he did, an hour after that by walking over and plonking himself down next to me in the side of the booth I was sitting in.

“Hi, I’m Christian” he said to my friends.


“Bridgette” they replied, shaking the hand he offered.

“So, have you thought of that answer yet?” he then asked, turning to me. I could feel myself turning to jelly rapidly. ‘He’s so damn handsome’ I thought.

“I don’t know why I’m still single. I just haven’t seen anyone I like the look of yet” I replied quietly.

“How about now?” he asked me, straight out. Just like that.

“Perhaps” I replied as I raised my eyebrow at him in an approving way. The next thing I knew, Ian and Bridgette had shot out of the seats on the other side of the booth and moved to a table nearby. I couldn’t help but laugh at the cheery grins and waves they gave me after they’d sat down.

“Bastards” I muttered, embarrassed as hell. ‘How dare they ditch me and leave me all alone with the very, very handsome man!’ I’d raged inwardly.

“I think I’ll have to buy them a drink for doing that” he told me.

From those first few moments I was totally pulled in by him, and I really enjoyed having that first ‘getting to know you’ conversation. But to be honest, at that time just looking at him was enough. After that night I decided I liked the person behind the devastating looks enough to give him my phone number. He called a day later and asked me if I wanted to meet up for a drink. It was my last night in town, so Ian and Bridgette told me if it went well they’d meet up with us later at a club or something. I agreed, and then was on my way to the bar I’d scheduled to meet Christian at. My nerves jangled like chains caught in a breeze the entire cab ride there. I actually felt a little sick my heart was beating so fast with nerves. Don’t you just hate those first date jitters? I do.
He was there already when I walked into the bar, and slid a beer across the table to me when I sat down next to him. From that moment on I relaxed and enjoyed the evening with him, learning everything he wanted to tell me about his life. How he’d spent most of his early life travelling around because of his father’s job in the oil business, but settled in Norman, Oklahoma when he was thirteen. He stayed there right up until university he told me, studying art history but dropping out before he’d finished when he moved to LA. I also learned that for work he delivered scripts for a talent management company and in return instead of a wage they paid him by sending him to auditions since he was one of the thousands upon thousands of people who migrate to Los Angeles in search of fame. Fame was what he got too, since his first screen appearance was in a show called Fame L.A. I was embarrassed to tell him I’d never seen it.

“That’s okay, I don’t think many people did” he told me with a reassuring smile as he reached out and gave my arm a squeeze.

“So what else have you starred in?” I asked him shortly after.

“I’ve had enough of talking about me. I wanna hear everything there is to know about you, Miss Alvarez” he replied. So I told him. I was born Gemma Consuela Alvarez on January 3rd 1979 in Sonora, Mexico to a British mother and a Mexican father, Chloe and Emilio Alvarez and the middle child to. We lived in the capitol city, Hermosillo until I was two before moving up to Nevada, where my mother had relocated from her home in Kent, England ten years previously. Well, she moved to California firstly, and then down to Nevada with my dad after they’d been dating for about a year. I told him all that and more, and he seemed to enjoy listening to me talk about my life previous to meeting him just as much as I’d enjoyed hearing of his life previous to me. By all accounts it was a great first date, the best first date I’ve ever been on.

We went on to meet my friends in a club after the bar closed, not that I saw much of Bridgette and Ian though. Most of the night was spend in a dark corner, engaging in so much kissing with my date my lips felt bruised afterwards. That wasn’t the end of it though, at 2am we left the club and went back to his place for much of the same.
There, we just sat on the couch kissing and talking until 6am when I could stay no later on account of the fact my flight back to Nevada was leaving at 9.30am. Before I left he told me he really wanted us to keep seeing each other and agreed to come down to Nevada two weeks later when he got a break from work and see me again. He had a week off work and only planned to stay with me for the weekend. He ended up staying for the full seven days, and we’ve been together ever since.

“While you’re over there, would you mind getting me some ice out?” I hear Christian’s voice speak as he enters our kitchen. I’m currently standing by the window next to the huge double door refrigerator I brought recently. It stands out as a rather glaringly modern appliance in my hacienda themed kitchen, but I love it all the same.

“Sure” I say before turning to see him taking off his shirt, a sight I always like to witness no matter how many times I’ve seen him do it before. It’s just distracted me from a big pile of unpaid bills I was about to begin looking through too. The sight of a shirtless husband definitely has the advantage over payments I know I do not quite have enough cash in the bank to pay off in full this month. Such is life, especially in this economic climate. It’s hard on all of us.

“Little bastard bit me. That’s perhaps the first thing you might wanna work on with him. He has little to no damn stable manners” he grumbles in reply, while my eyes widen a little when I take in the bright red teeth marks around his bicep.

“That’s going to be one hell of a pretty coloured bruise come tomorrow” I tell him as I shake some ice cubes loose from their bag and wrap them in a clean kitchen towel, tying up the ends to form a little parcel and then pressing it to his arm.

“Tell me about it. But I still think he’ll be worth it though, when he’s grown up a little bit. He’s still a baby after all” he replies, encircling my waist with his other arm and holding me close as he kisses my cheek.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one methinks” I tell him, returning the kiss he just gave me to the side of his neck and resting my head against his shoulder. It’s good to have him home for once; I do miss him when he’s away and that is most of the time these days, since if he isn’t filming one project or another he’s on the road with his band, Kane. I’m just glad that now my business has allowed for me to employ a few members of staff I can now fly out to spend time with him on location or on tour. In the beginnings of our relationship it was very much long distance.

The longest we’ve ever gone without seeing each other was back then in 2001, I didn’t see him for five months when he was away filming ‘Life or something like it’, in which he starred as Angelina Jolie’s ball playing fiancée Cal Cooper. I cried with happiness when I saw him finally walking toward me through a huge crowd of people at the airport. It only took me five weeks to fall in love with him, so five months away from the man I’d devoted my whole heart to hurt, but I knew it was something I’d have to get used to.
Even though after ten years together I’m more than used to it, it doesn’t mean I have to like it. After those five months our relationship definitely started to become way more serious, and we agreed right there and then we’d never be apart for longer than two weeks without seeing each other. It’s a promise we’ve just about managed to keep to each other. It has been difficult though.

“So when is the loud one coming over then?” he asks me a few moments later, after I’ve moved from my spot in his arms back to the counter to finish making the lunch I’d started before pausing by the window when he first came in. The ‘loud one’ he’s referring to is Bridgette, who always seems to have her volume turned up to about ten. She’s just a naturally bubbly and excitable person, but it does tend to make her a few decibels louder than the rest of us. I love her for it though.

“About a half hour I think. She’s only doing the morning shift at work so she’ll be here for most of the afternoon” I reply whilst chopping up pieces of chicken.

“I’ll go and hide from the noise then” he jokes. He loves Bridgette really, and displays as much when she does arrive by giving her a huge big hug that actually lifts her up off the floor. He hasn’t seen her for a while after all, since he only arrived home three days ago.

“Well you look happy!” she remarks, stroking his cheek with her hand after he’s put her down. Bridgette is a very physically affectionate person, even if she’s just met you she’ll hug you warmly and kiss your cheek. So many people misinterpret her as being a raging flirt, which makes me mad because she’s far from it.

“I brought a new pony” he replies, looking very pleased with himself.

“Bridgette, do you remember the psycho horse we went to see yesterday that I told you about on the phone last night?” I ask her.


“He went back and brought him this morning”

“Oh you bad man!” she replies, giggling and then giving me a sympathetic look.

“He’s so thoughtful like that isn’t he? Buying a total asshole of a horse and then escaping back on the road in a weeks’ time, so he conveniently doesn’t have to deal with him” I reply with light sarcasm. Bridgette laughs again, while I pull angry faces at my husband.

“Aw Gem, don’t be like that. C’mon baby, gimmie a smile” he tells me, turning and wrapping me up in his enormous arms. “C’mon Mrs K, I know you got one in there somewhere” he then adds, lifting my chin so I can see he’s pulling a put on angry face at me which then makes me laugh.

“There it is” he says before kissing my forehead. Yeah, you’re right. I’d pretty much forgive him anything. I love him so damn much it’s hard not to.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Tue Apr 12, 2011 2:37 pm

Ok I am hooked already lady, I MUST HAVE MORE!!!!!!!!!! NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lol.

What a vivid and capturing start that you have made to this - from the almost harmonious relationship between Gemma and Christian, to the way they met, the intital attraction so beautifully written that it's hard to remember that this is a story and not real life. Christian has always come across as the kind of guy who would be confident but not arrogant with it and you displayed that perfectly in the way that he approached her and instantly let her know that he was interested. Such beautiful use of dialogue in there too that it really set the scene tremendously. Very Happy

Gemma leaps from the page as someone who is down right determined - from the way she had started out, the jobs that she did to secure her dream of being a horse trainer - such a unique and realistic back story there and I loved that she also seems so down to earth about everything that she has in her life. It is absolutely obvious how much she loves Mr K and the life that they have built with one another. I would love to own a ranch (maybe not with horses since they scare me) but a nice big ranch with acres of land to do almost anything you want with - yes you have set the scene beautifully. I am so jealous lol.

Christian, obviously loves and adores his wife - and he clearly has so much faith in her ability to train horses, that shone through so magnificantly with the description of the new horse that he purchased. Being that he is so badly trained, I expect he hasn't been trained at all really. Who would be able to deny that man without his shirt on lol - poor Gemma, I don't know how she manages to get anything done; I'd have had him chained to the bed for those 10 years of being together haha. But on a serious note - he is so passionate about the things that he believes that I am blown away by how accurate you have been in the description of him. Very Happy Kudos to you honey.

Bridgette seems nice and rather boistrous(SP) and it's good that she has the support of Gemma, since you described her as being a flirt, it's good to see that Gemma trusts her whole heartedly with her man and isn't all possessive about who touches him and interacts with him etc. This is already off to an addictive start and I simply can't wait for more, so as I stated above....................MORE...............NOW...................PLEASE!?! xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Two.   Tue Apr 12, 2011 2:56 pm

Christian’s POV

I knew she couldn’t stay mad at me for long. Gemma doesn’t like being angry at anyone for very long though; she’s a very mellow person. It’ll do her good too, to have an animal to train with a little more attitude. My wife sometimes has the tendency to play it safe for the sake of an easier time, and I think that’s wasting her talent. She’s a very, very good horsewoman. Her dad first put her up on a horse when she was two, and at four years old when she was big enough to control a small pony on her own he began giving her lessons. She inherits her interest and her talent from him, since he’s been a lifelong fan of horses. Her parents were both teachers and had enough money to be able to buy her a really decent pony when she was eight years old, when she started to ride competitively.

She did really well too, winning some of the top competitions in the state and also California for riders her age. She doesn’t do it as much anymore though; her passion for wanting to train took over. She has a really special way with horses, it’s like she can speak their language or something like that. That’s why I’m adamant she’ll be able to turn my new purchase Charlie from a badly behaved youngster to a well behaved one. Hell, she did it with her own horse Mack; he was horrible to get on when he was two. I should know. I bit the dust quite a few times when we were teaching him how to jump. He didn’t know whether to kick it, play with it or jump over it. He did a combination of the three the first time he threw me off. Gemma put in a lot of time and effort with him and it’s paid off. He’s just turned seven and he’s so impeccably well behaved she’s using him to teach Bridgette how to ride.

Patience and persistence are what she has in abundance, which is totally necessary in her field of work. They just so happen to be two qualities I like best in her too. There’s plenty more to like about her too, she’s probably the nicest person I’ve ever met, and the funniest. She makes me laugh some way or another every day, whether she means to or not. When I said she was mellow just now, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a temper. It’s just very hard to provoke, unless you happen to be an inanimate object and you’re in your way. I almost burst my sides laughing one morning when she successfully managed to get her ankles tangled in a hair dryer chord, fall over a dog chew toy, stub her toe off one of my guitar cases and then just stand and shout ‘OH MY GOD WE HAVE TO TIDY BEFORE I FUCKING DIE!’ I tell you, I nearly died laughing, the vocal outburst just topped it all off.

That’s one of the many things we have in common, we both let mess build up and then go nuts and have to drop everything to tidy when we can’t find the things we’re looking for. Other things I have in common with my good lady wife would be the following. We both play guitar and sing (although she’s never wanted to take it up further than a hobby), we both like the same kind of music (except country which she couldn’t stand when I met her, I’ve changed her mind on that though), we both love to cook and we both like to have a drink. Those are just a few. There are plenty of areas we clash on too though, which makes our relationship all the more interesting.

I think I knew from the start she’d be a really significant girlfriend, not some flash in the pan romance that’d fizzle out. When I went to stay with her two weeks after I first met her, I didn’t want to leave. So I didn’t, I stayed for a week and to hell with anything else that didn’t immediately involve being with Gemma. Even if she did try and make me sleep on the couch on the first night I spent at her apartment. I remember that night well.....

“Gemma, are you still awake?” I asked her quietly at the other side of her bedroom door. I didn’t want to be rude and just burst in there even though I could see from under the door she still had her bedside lamp on.

“I am, come in” she called back, and so I went in and just stood there for a few moments, staring at her with a smile and thinking ‘you’re so damn beautiful, you just don’t even know’. She started giggling nervously and hid behind the pages of the book she was reading when she noticed how heavy my stare was.

“Oh no, back to the couch you go! Don’t you be coming in here and giving me that look when we’ve only been dating for two weeks, and only actually been on two dates, no way, out buster!” she laughed, pointing at the door to the side of me. I just looked at it, looked back at her and then shrugged.

“I’m too big to fit on your couch comfortably enough so erm, would you mind if I came and slept in here with you? And just so you know, sleeping really is all I plan on doing. I can keep my hands to myself” I replied.

“But can you keep those roving eyes to yourself? They’ve already undressed me twice in the minute you’ve been standing there!” she exclaimed as she marked her place in her book and then set it down on the nightstand.

“Sure I can, I’ll just put these on. There, I can’t see shit now” I told her as I grabbed her large black sunglasses off her cluttered dressing table and put them on before I made my way around to the other side of the bed. The fact that they were so dark meant I didn’t see the corner of her bed too well and almost fell right over it. Gemma was in fits of laughter by the time I climbed in next to her.

“Give me those!” she giggled, taking the sunglasses off me and putting them down on top of her book. “You silly man” she then added, still laughing. I knew right there and then I’d make it my work to make the beautiful girl next to me laugh whenever I could. She has such a cute little giggle, really infectious. When Gemma starts laughing you just can’t help but laugh along too.

“Well now my eyes aren’t covered I have no excuses for their roving, sorry. Your fault for removing the sunglasses” I told her, while deliberately staring at her intently. “You can’t blame me, you’re too beautiful not to stare at” I then added. More nervous giggles from her followed. I kept my word though; I didn’t touch her even once. I can’t say the same for the next night though, the night where we finished off a bottle of Jack between us and ended up completely all over each other until the small hours and beyond. I’ll tell you about that another time though. Yes so the sex element of our relationship happened quickly, but I really couldn’t help it and neither could she.

The attraction between us was just too strong, and the alcohol we’d imbibed washed away any reserve or inhibitions either of us had about having sex so quickly. She was (and still is) just too damn gorgeous. I don’t have a standard ‘type’ of woman that I go for. If ever I’m asked I always say ‘the beautiful type’ and leave it at that. Gemma certainly matches that type. She’s 5ft 6 but always seems taller than that to me, probably because of the way she carries herself. She’s always had good posture from all the horse riding (you can’t slouch on a horse in the competitive field, you get marked down for that in some disciplines) so always walks very tall.

She has a beautiful shape too, very classically Latino in that respect with her big boobs (well, not enormous but they fill my hands well), big butt and curvy hips. If you look at pictures of her grandmother Consuela when she was Gemma’s age they look like the same person. Top that off with toned legs, arms and stomach, a cascade of curly black hair and beautiful brown eyes and you have one hell of a stunning woman. Even her imperfections make her all the more beautiful. Like the little bump on her nose that she earned from Mack when he was a baby and had accidentally head butted her and broke it. Or the silvery scar down her forearm from when she broke it falling off her pony when she was ten. To me she’s perfect, and I still find her just as irresistible as I did the first day I met her too. Yes, I still have problems keeping both my eyes and my hands to myself....

“Christian stop!” she scolds me when she comes racing into the kitchen to refill hers and Bridgette’s drinks, and I grab her en route and cover her neck in kisses as my hands find their way inside her top.

“No” I tell her, one of my hands drifting down her stomach and then straight into her jeans.

“Bridgette is the other side of that wall, stop!” she giggles, trying to get free but failing.

“What, that wall there? The wall I’m going to fuck you against?” I ask her, pointing as I talk and kissing her shoulder.

“You will not, you can wait until later” she replies.

“I really can’t” I protest. And after much protesting from her, I finally get my own way.

Gemma’s POV

“You took your sweet time!” Bridgette tells me as I walk back into the lounge after refilling our drinks. Refilling our drinks and being defiled by my husband against the kitchen wall.....she doesn’t know the last part though. Not yet anyway.

“Sorry about that” I say passing her drink to her outstretched hand.

“No you’re not! And by the way, you put your top on inside out” she replies as she takes the drink I give her and winks at me. She laughs hard when I roll my eyes at myself.

“Damnit, I thought I might have got away with that for a few moments!” I exclaim, making her laugh harder as I sigh and take off my top to put it on properly again.

“You two aren’t like regular married couples I swear” she comments, shaking her head.

“I know, and I like it that way. I like it that after ten years together he still finds me irresistible enough to jump me in the kitchen whenever the mood takes him. Who am I to pass up that?” I laugh.

“You’d be a fool if you did! I wish Ian still had as much sexual spark about him as Christian does, so don’t you take that for granted for one second lady!” she replies, giving my knee a playful smack.

“Oh come on Bridgette, you make it sound like the guy is a frosty old virgin or something! So is twice a week not enough for you anymore?” I ask her.

“No! Not when I know you have it twice a damn day when he’s home! I’m officially very jealous” she laughs. Yeah, I’d be jealous of me too I think. He’s gorgeous, has a body to die for, and the kind of stamina some women only dream of finding in a man. He can either (literally) be in and out in five minutes or take his time and make my body burn slowly for hours. It’s always been that way too, since we got to the sex part of our relationship pretty soon too. Our sex life has always been very, very healthy. When we first got together, that week he came to stay with me was when that first spark of passion was ignited properly between us. The first time I gave him a blow job, he couldn’t walk afterwards. He was standing up when he received it you see, leaning against a wall in my old apartments’ lounge.

“My legs are locked the fuck up, seriously I can’t move! And by the way, that was the damn best blow job I’ve ever, ever, ever had” he’d told me in his very out of breath state. I don’t think I’ve ever, ever, ever witnessed a person grin that wide. Maybe if I’d seen my reflection a half hour later I might have, as he was returning the favour at the time.

That encounter happened after we’d had sex for the first time. The first time it was so frantic that he had me on the floor and was inside me literally a few moments after that. We did get to the sexual part pretty soon to be fair. Like, two weeks after we’d met soon. I’ve never, ever slept with someone that fast before, but with him I just couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t all me either, oh no. Let’s just say the whiskey made me do it.....

“Woah, I’m drunk. My lamp is moving from left to right, and I swear the shade just started to spin” I joked as I lay back on my couch, on the second night Christian was staying with me. I’d taken him to my local bar Joe’s Place (owned by none other than a guy called Joe obviously) and we’d had a great evening of sitting drinking and getting to know each other better, and watching the people assembled get up one by one for the open mic night. Some entrants were awful, some were brilliant. But it wasn’t them I was really paying attention to. It was the tall, blue eyed and well-built man with the messy spiky hair sitting next to me for the entire evening that held my attention fast.

“We’ve still got this to finish” Christian replied from his spot sitting on a huge floor cushion next to the couch as he passed me up the bottle of Jack we’d been sharing for the last hour. I stopped at a K-Mart on the way back to my apartment to pick it up, not realizing with his and my capacity for Jack Daniels we’d end up finishing the entire bottle that night. “I think you should join me down here on the floor to help me finish it too” he then added before pulling me clean off the couch with one hand.

“Okay and I’m on the floor” I announced after I’d fallen face first to the carpet, hearing him laughing. I picked myself up and he made room for me on the big cushion he was sat on, and we sat there passing the bottle between us while listening to the self-titled album by his favourite band, Alice in Chains who I just so happened (and still do happen) to enjoy also. We sat there drinking and chatting for about another half an hour, all the time our flirty banter became more and more heavy. Then the looks we gave each other just a touch more intense, and before I knew it we literally flew at each other and were locked at the mouth as we fought to rid each other of our clothes, ending up a frantic tangle of limbs and cloth.

Prior to that particular moment in time I’d always snorted in disbelief at the idea of zero to sixty sex in under a minute. I’d always be the one muttering ‘yeah, like it’s possible to get that aroused in like, less than a minute’ under her breath at the lightning fast sex scenes in moves. But then, underneath him on the floor with his mouth locked to mine and his hand guiding his thick, hot erection inside me I finally knew differently. I was so turned on I was instantly ready for him, and I came in about three minutes too. Never in my life had that happened before. He looked so good I couldn’t hold myself back, I just had to have him right there and then. Just sex and nothing more, besides, foreplay was definitely not required for either of us. We certainly enjoyed a few hours of after play though.

“Anyway, enough talk of riding men. I’ve got to go and get myself acquainted with riding young Charlie out there. Or at least attempt to ride him” I say after Bridgette and I have sat discussing our sex lives for about ten minutes.

“Well this I just have to see!” she exclaims, jumping up off the couch and following me out of the back doors and down to the stables. On our way down the path, our back yard behind a wall on one side and a paddock on the other, we are met by mine and Christian’s three dogs. We rescued all three of them from a pound up in Las Vegas, having seen Hooch (an aptly named French Mastiff dog, but that’ll only make sense to you if you’ve seen the movie ‘Turner and Hooch’) on an internet page and falling in love with him and then deciding to give another two dogs a home while we were there. We have Lori (who I named after my favourite actress Lori Petty) the pitbull and AJ the yellow Labrador cross pitbull.

All three of them are impeccably behaved around the horses (well, Hooch and AJ are, Lori doesn’t go near them as she’s terrified of big animals) and trot along quietly before returning to their big outdoor kennel that provides them with shelter from the sun when they’re out with me all day. I leave Bridgette to go and say hello to Mack (who’s hiding in the nice cool shade of his stable from the afternoon heat) while I go and fetch Charlie’s saddle and bridle, plus my hat. I brace myself thoroughly before entering his stable, to get to know this bad tempered little fella a bit better….

“DAMNIT!” I shout after the firebrand chestnut horse throws me off for a second time. So far I’m getting to know that Charlie is a stubborn, bad tempered piece of work. I love Christian dearly, but right now I could throttle him.

“You okay over there chief?” Bridgette asks me, leaning over the rail and managing to catch Charlie’s swinging reins as I get up and dust myself off.

“My pride is more wounded than anything. Still, I reckon I’m going to have a nice bruise on my butt come tomorrow” I reply as I walk over to her, taking charge of Charlie and hopping back into the saddle shortly after. This time, I actually manage to make him walk a whole lap of the arena (that’s the big fenced off thing with sand on the floor we exercise our horses in by the way) quite obediently. It’s when I try to push him on to trotting that he starts to misbehave again. He’s over excitable, that’s his main problem. He just wants to run and run and when you try and stop him, he throws you off.

“Ouch! How many times is that now?” I hear Christian yell over the fence approximately three minutes later after I’ve bitten the dust again. You have to give me my credit, I hung on for a good minute and a half back there before three bucks and a sharp swerve by Charlie unseated me again.

“Three. By the way I hate you, and you’re never getting a blow job for the rest of your damn life” I fume, only half seriously though.

“Maybe not from you” He mutters, loud enough for me to hear and for Bridgette to gasp.

“You did not just say that to your wife!” she exclaims, while he laughs loudly.

“Kane, you’re in so much fucking trouble” I tell him with a glare, eventually managing to smile a somewhat bitter smile before climbing onto Charlie’s back for the fourth time.

“I’ll look forward to it as ever dear” He replies, still grinning at me in that ‘I have the upper hand’ way. I hate the fact he makes insults directed at me funny too, I really hate it because then I’m laughing at me too. I suppose on reflection that’s the best way to be though right. Oh shit, hold on, we have a hopping horse situation on our hands again…..

“Oh god I can’t watch!” I hear Bridgette shout, just about able to make out the sight of her hiding behind Christian. It’s at that about this time I decide enough is enough. I rarely lose my temper, but here it is, that Mexican fire I inherited from my father…

“OH YOU WANNA RUN OFF DO YOU? OKAY, LET’S RUN!” I roar at him before taking a handful of his mane and digging my heels into his sides, making him lunge forward and giving him what he wants. Except, I point him straight at the fence that encloses the arena and charge him at it.

“GEM! He’s not been taught how to jump yet baby!” I hear Christian shout.

“This is his first lesson then” I yell back, before concentrating hard. It then hits me how stupid this is, but a fraction of a second too late. And just when I think Charlie is about to suddenly stop dead, up his front end comes and we’re in the air before I can even register it, and then we land neatly on the other side.

WE’RE DEFINITELY KEEPING HIM!” I yell back, just about able to hear Christian explode with laughter as I charge Charlie out over our land. He wants to run; fine I’ll let him gallop. I’ll wear him out so much that he doesn’t have any fight left in him. Because the way he just cleared that fence, the extra height I know he put into it, it made me see why he’s worth keeping. If I can get the attitude under control then I have a show jumper here at the very least, possibly an eventer. After doing a lap of our land I charge him back and make him jump the arena fence once more, and then bring him back to a gentle walk. I let him walk along relaxed with his head low, and he’s like a lamb for me. All because he’s too exhausted to be anything but, meaning I have found a way to get some of the fire out of him before getting him to be obedient in his behaviour.

“So you’re no longer pissed at me for buying him then?” Christian asks me as we walk back up the path after I’ve handed Charlie to Tony, a nice guy who works for me in a yard manager capacity, to un tack and cool him off. We’re on our way around to the front of our home to see Bridgette off.

“No, you did good baby, he can jump like he has springs in his hooves. I can try and work around the attitude for that kind of natural flair for fences” I reply, putting my arm around his waist as we walk side by side. He reciprocates by wrapping his around my shoulders. I rest my head against his chest and breathe him in, I love his smell. I love the fact he’s home too. I miss him so much when we’re apart.

“What?” He asks me after a few more strides towards the house, after I’ve been staring at him for a few moments.

“I just love you is all” I reply, stopping him and cupping his face in my hands, reaching up to kiss him. He kisses me back, both arms sliding around me as his big hands press into my back.

“C’mon, let’s say bye to Bridgette and then I’ll take you to bed and kiss that bruised ass of yours all better” he tells me eventually when we come up for air again.

“I’m not going to argue with that. As long as you promise to kiss me in other places too” I reply with a wink as we begin to walk along arm in arm again.

“Damn straight I promise” he replies. Whereas I’m only 99% convinced I’ve done the right thing by deciding Charlie can stay, I know 100%, without a shadow of a doubt, that the day I said ‘I do’ to Christian was the best decision I ever made.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Tue Apr 12, 2011 3:33 pm

I am really falling in love with this couple already - they are so intune, but aren't sickening with it. They flow together so well and it is easy to imagine them both together, being happy and in love. I love the fact that Christian just knew that given time, Gemma would come around to the fact that the horse would win her heart and he was right; Gemma might still have a slight hesitation but she will come round just like her hubby believes she will.

Mmmmm a quickie against the wall with a man that hot - no wonder Bridgette is jealous lol. Poor girl only getting it twice a week - how is that supposed to satisfy her??? Hello Ian - meet the real world; women need more loving than twice a week!!!! I really do adore Bridgette; she seems like the kind of friend that every girl has at one point in their lives.

Gemma is one of those characters that comes across as quite brash and proud, but not too proud to admit when she might be wrong - and I love the fact that she isn't afraid to call her hubby on his idiotic moves. Cos lets face it all men are more apt at impulse buying than women. I loved the fact that she seemed to just get the need of giving the horse the freedom to run; I was worried that something bad was coming, and I still have a feeling that something bad is coming, don't tell me though lol. I look forward to reading more of this Very Happy Excellent work my dear xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Three.   Wed Apr 13, 2011 3:13 pm

Gemma’s POV

“Ahhhh damn, I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you bringing this in” Christian tells me as soon as I open my eyes and stretch the following morning. He’s brought me coffee and toast in bed, something he does do a lot when he’s home.

“What time is it?” I grumble, coughing to clear my throat and then stretching and giving him a good morning kiss.

“8am, I turned your alarm off and went down to help the guys out with the horses. All you have to do is ride Mack and I went and brushed him over for you too so he’s all ready” he tells me as he sits on the edge of the bed and I take my first mouthful of toast. He makes it just how I like it, well done but not quite burnt to a crisp.

“Awwww thank you honey” I tell him, leaning forward and giving him another kiss. He’s so thoughtful like that. I usually get up at 6am every morning to go and attend to my horses, along with Tony, Hayley and Kate the three people I employ. Having a lie in until 8am is unheard of in my world.

“No problem. I’m going to get Maggie ready so I can ride out with you and Mack, so I’ll leave you to enjoy your breakfast and get ready. Love you babe” he tells me, giving me another kiss and leaving me to it. I grab the TV remote and switch on the large 50” HD television mounted on the wall opposite our bed and flick through until I find something to watch. THS Angelina Jolie grabs my attention as soon as I arrive at E! Christian ribs me endlessly about the trash TV that I watch, but I don’t care. I love it. It gives me something to do while he’s spending time with who he calls ‘the second love of his life’, his horse Maggie. She’s beautiful, a huge 17 hand (it has to be a big horse to carry someone of my husband’s size. He’s not overly tall but he’s built very well) Palomino mare, who we brought from the same lady I got Mack from.

She’s been the apple of his eye ever since he brought her home. Apparently her previous owner named her Maggie May after the Rod Stewart song, but sadly could not keep her since she was just too much of a handful for a ‘very small lady’ as Carole Palin told us (who we brought her from, and who I buy a lot of young horses from too). So she was just perfect for Christian, and after she worked out pretty quickly he wasn’t the kind of rider to be messed with her problem with being ‘a handful’ was completely solved. She wasn’t badly behaved at all, just very strong. She’s definitely a million miles away from Charlie in nature that’s for sure!

She’s a complete credit to him; he put in a lot of hard work with her and turned her into a gentle giant. It just shows how whenever he puts effort into something he always gets great results. Because when Christian sets him mind to something, it isn’t just his mind at play. He puts his heart and soul into everything he does, and now Maggie is so gentle and well behaved even our little nieces and nephews can sit on her and he’ll lead them around and she doesn’t even bat an eyelid. I come from a family of three children. There’s me, my sister Eloise and my brother Huey and they have a girl and boy each. I love spending time with them when they visit. Eloise relocated back to Mexico so we don’t see her very often, but Huey and his girlfriend Minnie live up in California so we do get to see them on a fairly regular basis.

People (our parents being prime examples) have nagged us for years and years over when we’re going to start a family, and all of it has fallen on deaf ears so far. We’ve really liked having time together just the two of us, liked our lives being busy and putting our careers first as well as fun (and boy, in our ten years together we’ve had a lot of fun!) so haven’t wanted to add a baby to the equation. Until two months ago that is, when I came off my contraceptive pills and we decided ‘ah hell, why not?’ So far because he’s been away from home and I haven’t been out to see him wherever he’s been for more than a few days, there hasn't been a hell of a lot of trying, but I am secretly (and perhaps a little too expectantly) hoping that when he leaves again in a week, he’ll be leaving a teeny tiny Kane behind in my tummy.

But I won’t be disappointed if that doesn’t happen, apparently your fertility levels do drop a little the older you get. But I’m hoping it won’t be a problem. He did get me pregnant before but that was an accident when we’d only been together for eight months, and we both decided it really was best to go for a termination. We were still far too young to bring a baby into the equation, but things are different now. I cannot wait to be pregnant with his child. It’s my goal for this year. I want to either be pregnant or be a mamma before the year is out. Putting my hopes and dreams of a baby aside I finish my breakfast and get up, heading out of our bedroom and into the bathroom for a quick shower and then returning to dress and then blow dry and straighten my hair.

I have very naturally thick curly hair, and I remember when I was a kid all I wanted was lovely poker straight hair like my elder sister Eloise. My poor mom would sit there for ages blow drying it straight for me. I’m glad since hair straighteners have been invented its cut a forty five to fifty minute job into a twenty minute one. I then moisturise my face and as usual don’t bother with makeup (I’m not being big headed but I’m very lucky enough not to need it), apply a little perfume and then head out and down to the stables, picking up a couple of apples on the way for my boy.

“Beautiful baby!” I announce as I see him standing there, looking at me intently with his gorgeous big eyes, muscles all of a quiver. No, I’m not talking to Christian; I’m talking to my baby Mack. All black apart from one white sock (that’s what you call a small marking on a horses’ leg) and a tiny white star (the name for a little round mark between their eyes at the top of their head), he’s a stunning looking horse. I let myself into his stable and give him the two small apples I brought down for him, patting his neck heartily before putting his tack on him and leading him out to where Christian is waiting for me atop Maggie.

“Come on then Mrs, let’s have a nice relaxed day together before the whack pack get here” he tells me as I climb up onto Mack and off we go for a leisurely stroll around our vast expanse of land. The ‘whack pack’ he refers to are our friends, the crazy bunch who really are like family to us, and who will be coming here this afternoon for a barbeque and party we’re having tonight. We like to have them all down here to stay with us whenever Christian is home, so we can party hard and have a damn good time doing it.

The members of this little group consist of his best friend David Boreanaz and his wife Jaime (they sadly cannot be here tonight though because of Dave’s filming schedule), another of Christian’s closest friends Jensen Ackles and his long time girlfriend Suze (sadly she can’t be here either because of work), Ian and Bridgette of course, my best friend through high school Sharon and her new boyfriend Eddie (who works as tour manager for my husband’s band, Kane. That’s how she met him) and the rest of his band make up the whack pack. Although because they’re all spending time with their families they won’t be here with us either tonight, so it’s just going to be a small group of us. It’ll still end in chaos though, whenever Christian and Jensen get together there’s always madness, and I love every last second of it.

“I was sad to see Blackie wasn’t there when I got home. When did his new owners come and fetch him?” Christian asks as we walk the horses down towards where there’s a freshwater stream running through our property.

“The day before you arrived, and they didn’t tell their daughter anything about buying him either. Oh Chris, you should have seen her face when I lead him out of his stable, she was absolutely gobsmacked! She just stood there hugging her parents and crying!” I tell him as we laugh fondly. Her parents had brought him for her as a sixteenth birthday present, and she was overjoyed when she saw him for the first time. She knew she was getting something big for her birthday, but I don’t think she suspected something quite as big as Blackie.

“Well I’m glad he’s gone to a nice home” he replies, with somewhat of a sad smile. He gets too attached to them when I buy them as babies, and when it’s time for them to go a few months or a year later he misses them. I do too to be honest but I try and detach myself a little. The first horse I ever brought on, a young mare called Hattie, I sobbed my heart out over after I sold her. So since then I’ve had to harden myself a little to the emotional attachment you can fall into all too easily with these beautiful animals.

We keep on chattering as we ride along, our conversation moving onto the work he’s doing to promote Kane’s new album, and our plans to go away on vacation after he’s done with that. Leverage just got picked up for its fifth season so he’ll be going straight back to Portland to film that come June (after his month off and the four month promotional album tour is done with). A whole month off with him on vacation, the idea alone is bliss.

After enjoying the morning spending time with our steeds we set about going to the market to buy everything we need in preparation for tonight before heading home fast since Bridgette sent me a text to inform me she and Ian are already there. They’re always hours early for any party, Bridgette because she always insists on helping and Ian because he claims to insist on helping. He comes in, starts making a slow beeline for the den (where there happens to be a pool table and a small bar) while muttering ‘oh I gotta go help Chris with something’ before he’s like a bullet out of a gun into the den, and we don’t see either of them again until the rest of the guests arrive. Same routine with every single party we throw. Bridgette and I have worked out the translation. ‘I gotta go play pool and drink beer with Chris for the next three hours’. We think it’s cute though at least, and it gives us plenty of girl time as well.

It isn’t the same without one particular person though. Well, two really since Sharon isn’t here to make up the little girly group of four firm friends, but at least she is turning up. Suze is stuck in Alaska on location (she’s a wardrobe assistant, that’s how she met Jensen six years ago on the set of Supernatural) after finishing up on a film, and it won’t be the same without her. So when I hear someone come in through the front door an hour later I don’t bother looking up, figuring it to be Jensen since he always lets himself in. Neither does Bridgette who hasn’t looked away from the large pile of salad she’s preparing, so both of us jump about a foot in the air when the following, delivered in a loud voice from the hallway, comes booming into the kitchen in a familiar female tone.

“OH DON’T ALL FUCKING RUSH OVER AT ONCE TO SAY HELLO OR ANYTHING”. I turn my head to see Suze standing there, with Jensen behind her smiling widely.

“OH MY GOD!” Bridgette and I scream at exactly the same moment, with me beating her in the race to greet Suze first. I give her a massive hug and kiss on the cheek, not wanting to let her go for a while since I haven’t seen her for three months, Bridgette giving Jensen the same greeting before hopping about waiting for her turn to hug our buddy.

“How did you even get here so fast? I thought you couldn’t get a flight until tomorrow night!” I exclaim as I hustle them both into the, giving Jensen a hug on my way. Before she can answer me though, Jensen goes through his usual routine.

“HONEY I’M HOME!” He yells. About four seconds pass before the door to the den opens up and Christian appears with a big grin on his face. Then Jensen runs hell for leather across the kitchen and jumps on him, literally. Both arms and legs wrapped around him as they laugh hysterically. They have bromance, it’s so cute. Especially since they’re both such manly men, men we lose to the lures of pool and beer a few minutes later, after Christian and Ian have come out to say hello to Suze off they all disappear together, leaving the three of us to finish off and then go and sit out in the back yard. We drink beer, smoke (I only smoke socially though) and gossip about what’s been happening in our lives since we all saw each other last.

Suze starts by telling us all about the film she’s just been working on, a period drama with Evan Rachel Wood and Mickey Rourke to name two. Since Jensen has been filming the seventh season of Supernatural too it’s meant it’s not only us who haven’t seen her for three months, he hasn’t either. She goes on to explain her early appearance, talking and smoking and drinking all at the same time in her usual way. She tells us she managed to get a last minute cancellation, a direct flight down to LAX that landed at 3am this morning.

“I got in, surprised the hell out of Jensen, went to sleep and then woke up at 11am and almost fucked him through the mattress! Oh damn I was so horny!” she exclaims as Bridgette and I laugh hard.

“No wonder he looked beat” I exclaim. I had noticed Jensen looked a little…..tired when he came in earlier.

“It wasn’t all about the sex though; it was nice to have him there to talk to for once instead of pottering around talking to myself” she replies.

“Yeah, I find myself doing that too when Christian isn’t here. I’m so glad I’m not the only one” I reply, laughing as I remember myself chatting away to no one when the husband isn’t around. Turns out I see him way earlier than expected after he and the other two come out and sit with us after a half hour has passed. Sharon and Eddie turn up soon after that, so we begin to cook the food as the alcohol flows and the laughter escalates. Our pet dogs run around the feet of our friends, all bar Lori who is sitting on Jensen’s lap. She has a big soft spot for him; whenever he’s here she sits on him or close to him. It’s a good job he loves dogs.

Right at the back of the yard there’s another table and chairs next to the fire pit that we all move up to once we’re done eating. Christian and I take our usual place, both lying in the big hammock tied between two trees just to the side of the table. I lie between his legs with my head rested back against his chest, smiling contently as he strokes my arms. Our friends are all talking, but we’ve sort of retreated into our own little bubble, which is rare as we’re both very social. We’re not the kind of couple who sit there and ignore everyone in favour of each other in social situations. But this moment is a bit of an exception.

“Gemma?” he says quietly, making me look up at him.

“Yes?” I reply.

“Nothing, I just wanted you to look at me is all. I love how your eyes look dark purple in the dim light, you know that” he tells me, while I turn over onto my front and rest my chin on his chest, smiling at him. My eyes are brown, but he’s always been convinced they look dark purple in dimmer light. I can’t say I’ve ever noticed it to be honest. I like it that he does though, I like the little things he notices. It just shows how attentive he is. He says he’s the luckiest man alive being married to me, and I consider myself the luckiest woman alive being married to him. Sickeningly sweet it is, but it’s just the truth. He’s my world.
Eventually we come back out of our bubble and join in with the conversation between our friends. There are a lot of laughs going round at the moment, since for Eddie’s benefit a lot of ‘back in the day’ stories are being told. He’s the newest member of the group, taking over the tour management of Christian’s band only eight months ago, so he needs to be filled in on a few things.

“The story of how I first met Christian sure as hell isn’t as entertaining as the story of when I first met Gemma, that’s for sure!” Jensen says, making Christian and I instantly burst out laughing.

“Oh this sounds good!” Eddie exclaims, more over the look on Jensen’s face than anything.

“Well one night he calls me up and tells me he’s got a gig at the Whiskey three days from then, I was in town so I was like ‘sure I’ll be there’, and he told me I could meet Gemma for the first time too since she was going to be there of course. I think you guys had been dating for what, three or four months then?” He begins, pausing and looking over at us.

“It was three months, yeah” I confirm for him.

“Right, okay so I get there and I’m at the bar and this beautiful girl comes up and orders a couple of beers” he says, trying not to laugh but failing. “So me being me I immediately try and hit on her, channel some of my Ackles charm in her direction. Except she isn’t having any of it and politely informs me she has a boyfriend before she walks off and leaves me there feeling a little disappointed. So then I get my drink and head backstage to find Chris, and when I do find him guess who’s on his arm? The beautiful girl, that’s who. Oh man I could have died, but he couldn’t stop laughing when we told him. Dude I still have to say, thank you for not blacking both my eyes for trying my luck with your lady!” Jensen explains as everyone laughs, Suze especially. She almost pee’d her pants when Christian first told her, and she loves hearing the story still all these years later.

“Yeah, old Jensen over there was damn lucky! I remember a guy at a Kane show not quite being that fortunate” Ian then chimes in as he laughs, looking at Christian who just shrugs and then totally falling to pieces. Once again, Eddie looks very intrigued.

“Well basically this guy had been following Gemma around all night, and being the polite girl she was, she just kept telling him to leave her alone and moving from table to table with Suze and Bridgette. I was backstage helping my dude out here so I came out just before they went on, saw the situation and told the guy myself ‘look man, if her guy has to come and tell you to back off, he ain’t gonna tell you in words, so quit it huh?’ and that totally fell on deaf ears. So I go backstage again, tell Christian and for the entire gig he’s got his eye firmly on this dude.

Anyway, they play a brilliant set regardless of the fact that Chris looked like he was about to jump off stage and smack him down! Then after the show we’re all outside waiting for him and the other guys to come out and start loading all the gear, and the guy who won’t leave Gem alone comes back again to try his luck for about the fifteenth time. So when Chris does come out, he just sees red. He marches up to this guy, then points at me and then Gemma and goes ‘he warned you, she warned you, and now I’m warning you. Leave her alone’ and punches him clean in the jaw! The guy literally flew about four feet in the air before landing on his ass. I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so much” Ian replies, in a fit of laughter at the memory. It’s fair to say that Christian has always been very protective of me. He doesn’t go around punching everyone in the face, but that’s his answer for all people who do not know the meaning of the word ‘no’.

It has been wonderful to spend the evening and the early hours of the morning socialising and catching up with our buddies, but I have to say I am glad when after the loudness of the evening is replaced by quietness, everyone having gone to bed in the guest bedrooms (apart from Sharon and Eddie who had to go home since she’s at work first thing) leaving Christian and I alone to clear up a little before heading up to our bedroom. I’m glad that once we get there his has the same idea as me though, that idea being that neither of us are ready to fall asleep just yet.

“Ten years, and still all it takes is a look for you to do this to me” he tells me as he walks be backwards towards our bed, placing my hand down over his crotch where there’s a big erection sticking right out.

“You know I’ll never lose that particular skill” I purr in reply before kissing him and pulling him down on top of me onto the bed. Ten years ago a spark ignited so brightly between me and this gorgeous man that the flame still hasn’t gone out. I don’t think
it ever will either.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Wed Apr 13, 2011 4:06 pm

what a brilliantly vivid picture you 'paint' so to speak. From the moment that Chris brought Gemma breakfast in bed; you can see how much he absolutely adores his lovely wife. And from the little statements of how Chris trained his horse; it is more than obvious that she loves him as much as he loves her. I like the fact that they are trying for a baby; they are undoubtedly going to be amazing parent's. Just the way their connection to one another jumps from the page - it makes it so wonderful to read, because you can just imagine the entire scene that you set.

I am so hoping that they will be lucky enough to get pregnant Very Happy I like the idea of them being pregnant before - it shows how connected they are that they decided to go ahead with an abortion. A hard decision to make, but definitely the right one for them at the time; you can see that from the indepth detail you gave on the entire situation. It's such a nice and rich background that definitely makes the reader feel like a part of the story. And that Gemma and Chris are a part of their lives.

MMMMMMMMMMMMM HELLO Jensen lol. it is easy to imagine that he and Chris are as you detailed in the moment that they see one another again. I had a little giggle to myself at that - I can just picture them all hugged up in their little bromance haha. I enjoyed reading about the moment that Jensen met Gemma, and the little story of the guy following her around at one of Chris' gigs; I can definitely imagine him being protective like that with his women. Once again, I am stuck cos there is no more Sad please hurry with more xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Four.   Fri Apr 15, 2011 2:35 am

Christian’s POV

“I swear........that’s the best start the day............if ever there was one........” I’m just about able to say through each ragged breath that leaves my lungs as an equally out of breath Gemma collapsed down on top of me. She woke me up in a very nice way about half an hour ago, the first thing I felt as my brain shifted from sleep mode to conscious were her lips wrapping around my dick. People say that once you’re married your sex life goes down the drain.....well it’s been eight years and I’m still waiting for that to happen.

“Agreed” she finally pants in reply as I stroke her sweaty skin, rubbing my thumbs over her dark nipples as we kiss, feeling her inner muscles still twitching around my dick a little before she slides off and curls up by my side.

“I know I tell you over and over, but you’re so beautiful” I compliment her, wrapping her up in my arms and kissing her forehead.

“You tell me that more than any other guy has, that’s for sure” she replies. She needs to be told too, because a long time ago some stupid, blind son of a bitch told her otherwise, and it really dented her confidence. It turns out that all those years ago when I asked her how it was possible that she could be single, she did have a valid reason. I remember that conversation like it was yesterday......

“So are you sure there’s no secret boyfriend lurking anywhere, about to sneak up unannounced and beat my ass?” I asked her as we lay in bed together in her old apartment, on the second morning of my stay with her. The morning after the night before as it were, the night where we both lost control and just went for it as far as sex was concerned.

“I think if he was hiding anywhere, he’d have come out and had something to say about what we’ve been doing all night” she replied while she played with one of the long chain pendants around my neck.

“Oh so he does exist then! See you never denied it just then” I replied, ticking her and making her giggle.

“Shut up silly man, you’re the first guy who hasn’t been just a friend to step into my apartment, let alone my bed, in the last nine months. Not since....him. So there you have it, I’m definitely single. Well, I’m not so sure about that now though considering who I have laying next to me” she replied, giving me a soft kick in the leg with her foot for emphasis.

“No, right now I’d say you’re as far away from being single as you could get. Because this big Texan lug right here ain’t going nowhere, you hear?” I told her as I gestured to myself.

“I hear, and I like it” she replied before turning onto her side and giving me a kiss.

“So then, who is this ‘him’ you refer to with such a distasteful look? Ex-boyfriend I’m guessing” I asked her after pulling her up to lie on top of me, staring up at her gorgeous brown eyes and picking up instantly on a trace of sadness in them.

“That would be Ryan, and yes he was my boyfriend before he turned into a total monster. When you asked me why I was still single when we met there was a very valid reason behind it. That reason was because he kinda twisted a very big knife right into my self-esteem and I haven’t really gotten over that” she tells me, her voice still light and jokey. I’ve since learned that’s what Gemma does to brush off something that really hurt her. She makes fun or light of it so she doesn’t get upset all over again.

“What did he do baby girl?” I asked her, frowning at the thought of anyone being cruel to someone so lovely.

“He got too big for his own boots is what he did. Let me explain it all to you though” she began, sitting up and grabbing her ashtray and smokes, handing me one too. We both used to be full time smokers back then but both now only smoke when we drink, her more than me though since I get my fix from chewing instead.

“Well” she began as she lit up. “I met him at a competition I was in up in California. I’d beaten his sister into second place in the show jumping and when she came up to congratulate me and basically make friends since she was from Nevada too and we’d mixed in the same circles, Ryan was hovering in the background the whole time. So Kerry, that’s his sister, pulled him over to say hello and in the end left us to it when she saw how well we got on. It turned out he only lived a twenty minute drive away from my place, which was when I was still living with my folks. So we just got chatting and like I say got on really well, and eventually we started dating” she went on to tell me, while I just nodded and kept quiet, listening to her intently.

“All was going well, and we’d been together for three years when one day we decided to go up to LA for a day out and we were walking along through Long Beach when suddenly this woman comes up to him and asks him what modelling agency is he with. Ryan just stood there and looked befuddled for a moment and then told her he wasn’t with one because he was law student, not a model. So this lady goes crazy and tells him with the kind of face he had, he should really consider taking it up and gave him her card, took a quick head and shoulders shot of him and urged him to call her. So we went home and he wasn’t sure if he should or not, didn’t know if he was good enough to which I told him of course he was if someone from an agency thought he was good enough. I told him I thought he was good enough too and would support him every step of the way, and that was all he needed to hear.

After thinking over it thoroughly he went ahead and called her, and she had him on her books and going out to do jobs between his classes at college within a month. It all happened really fast. Within two months he’d quit his law degree and completely changed his mind about becoming a lawyer, now all that mattered to him was modelling. Within six months of that he was being sent out to jobs in Paris and London and Milan, and I hardly saw him at all. But when I did see him, he just seemed so different to me, like he wasn’t the same humble, sweet natured guy I’d fallen in love with. And that’s because he wasn’t, he’d changed so much.

He hardly ate any longer for one thing, and I swear I’d hear him making himself sick after meals. He became totally obsessive and terrified about gaining weight. Life as a model made him change the way he saw so many things, including me for one. It all started with a few little comments here and there, things like ‘oh, you’re wearing that?’ or ‘oh, I don’t like your hair like that’ to bigger things such as making little digs about my weight. I’d try and explain to him that being curvy and from Mexican descent go hand in hand, but he just kept moaning on about how I could make more of an effort” she continued, while I felt my eyes widen in a ‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ sort of way. Was the man blind or just stupid?

“So what happened after that?” I asked her gently, reaching out and stroking her leg after putting out my cigarette in the ashtray she’d balanced on her knee.

“After that he just became more and more distant with me, until one night it all came to a head. He had some big promotional night at this trendy club in LA and I went up and met him there to support him, and he just ignored me for the entire evening. He was too wrapped up in himself and every single last person in there kissing his ass, and also this skinny little thing that didn’t leave him alone for the whole night and kept giving me evil looks as soon as she saw me. So I confronted him and asked just what the hell he was playing at, and he pulled me aside and just said ‘Gemma, I don’t think this is working for me anymore. I’m a model now, and I think I prefer the company of other models so erm, yeah. We’re over. Maybe if you’d made more of an effort with yourself I wouldn’t have ended it’. Just like that, like those three years didn’t matter to him one ounce.

So I asked him to elaborate on what the hell he meant, and he told me straight out that I was too fat and not pretty enough for him any longer, and that he felt he should be with someone better suited to him. That someone was little miss skinny, who I found out later he’d been cheating on me with the entire time he was abroad. I walked out with any little dignity I had left right then, drove back to Nevada and straight to Bridgette’s place where I cried in her arms for four hours. So, there you have my reason” she finally finished, while I just lay there feeling totally perplexed at what an idiot Ryan was.

“He’s a tool, a complete fucking tool! I mean shit Gemma, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever shared a damn bed with, and if you’re fat then I’m mother Theresa! He’s an idiot; please don’t tell me you believed him?” I replied, not happy when I saw Gemma nodding ‘yes’ in reply.

“For a little while yeah, I did. I thought if I wasn’t good enough for him then who would I be good enough for? I thought since he could turn his back so easily on me after three years together then what chance would I stand with anyone else. I think I’m starting to see things a little differently these days though” she replied, a smile finally coming back to her pretty face.

“From now on, I don’t even want you to think about Ryan or the crap he told you, let alone ever mention him again. You’re better off without him, and in some strange backwards way I thank him for what he did. Because he left you free to move onto someone who knows how to treat his woman. Someone who doesn’t cheat either” I told her, smiling at her as I reached out and stroked her cheek. Her smile just grew bigger and bigger by the moment, because she knew at last she’d found someone who wasn’t lying to her, and wanted her for who she was. Not what he thought she should be.

She’s never stopped smiling at me like that either; and I’ve never tired of telling her how beautiful she is. Poetic justice bit Ryan right in the ass though. About a year ago we were having lunch as a place in LA, sitting by the window of this little restaurant in Huntington Beach, and along walks Ryan past the window. I didn’t know who he was until Gemma began to fall apart laughing, and then said ‘remember my model boy ex Ryan?’ to which of course I replied that yes I did. She then pointed down the street to where this fat guy in a tracksuit was walking along, and damn how we laughed our asses off over what Mr thin and perfect had turned into. Gemma has only gotten hotter since I met her.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere yet” I tell her back in the here and now when she attempts to get out of bed.

“I have work to do, horses to ride, customers to call and friends to make breakfast for, not in that particular order either. Sorry baby you have to let me out” she replies, while I just like there shaking my head.

“Nope, not happening for you, not until I get one more roll around with you in this big bed of ours” I reply with a grin.

“How about we kill two birds with one stone and go in for some shower sex, since we both need one anyway?” she offers. I’m out of bed and in the bathroom before she has time to even register I’m no longer in her arms.

“Dude where’ve you been, I’ve been hollering from the bottom of the stairs like a jilted date and neither of you answered!” Jensen tells me as soon as Gemma and I enter the lounge half an hour later.

“Shower” we both reply at the same time, making Jensen laugh.

“Honey why don’t you let me have shower sex with you no more?” he then asks Suze, who is sitting reading the paper and drinking coffee. I love the fact she takes it upon herself to put a pot on if she’s the first one up while staying here.

“Because of the little matter of you DROPPING ME” she replies, booming out her last two words for effect. Yeah, I don’t think I’d still be allowed the privilege of it if I dropped Gemma either…

Gemma’s POV.

“Ahh yeah, I’d forgotten about that. Note to self; do not attempt shower sex after seventeen bottles of beer” Jensen replies after Suze’s little revelation, more to himself than anyone. Everyone laughs except Suze who just looks pained at the memory. I don’t blame her; you should have seen the size of the bruise on her shoulder. After this I head into the kitchen to begin what I have to do today other than my man (I’ve done him twice already!) and make a start by tending to the dogs and putting on another pot of coffee while Christian takes care of the breakfast. I fill the jug I keep on the windowsill from the tap and take it over to fill up the one large stone bowl over by the back door. I then pull their dried food out of the large store cupboard, returning the jug to its usual spot on my way. I then pour out a measure in each of the three bowls back over by their water.

“KIBBLE!” I yell, hearing the scattering of claws across the stone slate floor moments afterwards as our three dogs come scrambling in. Taking the pot of coffee I leave Christian to it and head back to sit with our friends until the food is ready. We go and eat outside since it’s another beautiful day in Nevada, with the men all locked in conversation about a truck racing event they’re going to this afternoon and us girls chattering amongst ourselves about our plans for this afternoon. I’m going to get up on Charlie again and then after that give Bridgette her weekly lesson on Mack. She’s becoming quite good now, she managed her first high fence on him last week. Suze doesn’t go near them though other than to fuss them. She considers it ‘too fucking dangerous’ to actually get on board. After that we’re heading out to a local bar and grill for lunch, and later on we’re all going to sit on the couch with popcorn and ice cream and watch basketball throughout the afternoon. The perfect Saturday, don’t you think? It’s a shame someone tries to ruin it for me though...

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Suze exclaims a while later as I’m trying to groom Charlie in his stable, and he’s having none of it. Christian was right when he said he had little to no stable manners. He’s tried to bite me six times already, and I’ve only gotten from his head to his belly with the brush. He keeps whirling around, flattening his ears to his head (which is horse language for ‘I’m pissed off!’) and snapping at me, whilst kicking out with his back legs too.

“BEHAVE!” I yell at him, giving him a little slap on the shoulder to which he pulls disgruntled faces about before going back to eating his hay with fury. I’ve never witnessed a horse do pissed off eating quite so well before, ripping each mouthful of hay from his manger with force. I’d completely understand this kind of temperament if he was a stallion. Any male animal with his balls intact will give you grief (hello men everywhere, ha-ha!), but he had his removed when he was just a baby. About five minutes later I have help though as my husband comes to the rescue and holds Charlie for me while I brush him, taking the brunt of him snapping in agitation.

“Bite me again and I’ll fucking bite you back!” he exclaims as I notice Charlie go for his arm. I manage to get him brushed and have his tack on in about another ten minutes after that, giving Christian a huge hug and kiss before him, Jensen and Ian leave for the truck race just outside of Las Vegas, which is roughly a forty five minute drive from here.

“You have a good time baby, love you” I tell him.

“Love you too hon, see you tonight” he replies, giving me one last kiss before him and the fellas all pile into his truck and off they go, leaving me with my ladies....and one bad tempered little beast by the name of Charlie who I take for a gentle walk and then a charge around our land again, hoping to knock some of his fire out of him before I can get down to doing some training work with him. Once again, galloping the fight out of him seems to work as he’s much more placid once I get him into the arena and make him knuckle down and do some work.
For the hour I’m on his back (with only one fall too) I work out that he’s not eager to please his rider, he is headstrong and wants everything his own way, and will simply buck and rear up out of boredom. So I give him lots of changes in his working routine, making him go from trot to canter and then back to trot again, circling him at one end of the arena, making him walk at a steady pace and then switching up a gear again. Variety is what keeps his mind on the job, boredom is what makes him play up and become naughty.

“Does Christian sweat that much when you ride him that hard too?” Suze calls at me from her seat by the fence, sipping an ice cold coke and smoking.

“You’re vulgar” I reply, walking a very hot and tired horse over to where she’s standing and letting him stretch his long, sweaty neck. I’ve worked him so hard he’s absolutely soaked, so will hose him down to cool him off and then let him out for a run around in the sun in one of the paddocks when I’m done.

“Eh, someone has to be!” she replies with a wink. I can sense she’s reaching her limit with all things horse, so tend to Charlie quickly once I’m off his back and do as I planned to do before getting Bridgette out here for her lesson on Mack. While we do that Suze decides to take a walk around the fields with my dogs, which she gets on a lot better with than horses. I give Bridgette her lesson, and remark to both myself and her how much she’s improving. She still gets a little nervous over fences but that’s something we’re working on. After all she only decided she actually wanted to learn eight months ago, so the fact that she can jump Mack over a three foot fence already really does show how hard she’s worked, and how much she’s listened to me as her instructor.

Once we’re done she goes back into the house to shower and change, while Mack receives the same treatment Charlie did, a hose down before I turn him out into the paddock. I stand at the rail and watch him and Charlie get acquainted, giving each other a good sniff and squealing at each other a few times before playing chase happily enough. It seems Charlie’s vile attitude only extends to humans as he looks like he’s enjoying Mack’s company greatly. After I’m done I go back to the stables to find Tony (who manages the yard for me) and give him a list of the horses I want to be worked this afternoon, let him know of the two horses who have the vet coming while I’ll be out, and leave him my credit card to pay for the bill before heading back into my home, shower bound.

It’s only really been completely finished as far as decorating is concerned six months ago, and we’ve been here for four years! I like to change my mind a lot. The hallway always has been in a terrible state since the homestead of the ranch is very old, but neither of us was here for long enough for one period of time to oversee it having to be practically gutted of all plaster and re done again. Thankfully all the other rooms were just a case of new wallpaper or paint, which I got finished with Bridgette’s help within the first four months of us moving in.

It’s a beautiful home, decorated in bright and neutral colours for a nice contrast, each room having its own theme. I head upstairs and into my bedroom to pull out the black cotton dress I plan on wearing, and my brown leather and turquoise stone flip flops as well as fresh underwear before I head off into the bathroom (one of two) for a quick shower. By the time I’m done Suze and the dogs are back, and after locking up we’re on our way out to lunch. So far I’m having a really lovely day, and hope my husband is having just as much fun with his buddies too.

Christian’s POV.

“How the HELL did the dude get out alive? Look he’s walking!” Ian shouts to my side as all three of us sit, the same as the rest of the crowd with our jaws swinging in the breeze. Trucks number seven and fifteen just collided, with the latter flipping over three times and then hitting the crash barrier. The driver just opened the door, dropped from his upside down position onto the floor and scrambled out before standing and walking away without a mark on him. That’s damn good luck right there, but I bet he’s bummed that he’s just of course earned himself an immediate disqualification from the race, the last of the day.

“They got more guts than me I tell you” Jensen comments, while we all wince at the damage to the truck as the safety team tow it off the edge of the track. It’s a write off or a very expensive fix up, that’s for sure.

“I’d give it a go” I reply, while my friends look at me like I’ve gone mad.

“Yeah we know you would tough guy” Jensen replies as he throws me a playful elbow in the side. I just laugh quietly through my nose and finish my drink, eager to get home so I can switch from soda to beer. I hate being the designated driver. The afternoon of racing finishes up and we agree to head to a bar first to grab something to eat before the drive home. Gemma stated she wouldn’t be making dinner until later anyway, so we can make the room for something now. Just as we’re pulling out of the raceway my cell begins to ring, and rather than pull over again to retrieve it from my pocket to answer the call I let it ring out, figuring I’ll just call whoever it is back when we arrive at the bar. It rings and rings again as we travel, before it stops and then Ian’s cell begins to blare from its place where he’s rested it on the dash.

“Hey hey sexy mama!” he answers. No prizes for guessing its Bridgette on the other end. “Okay, babe, slow down what the hell is wrong?” he then says, making me look over at him for a few minutes with concern before my eyes fall back on the highway. “WHAT? Oh my fucking god! Alright, don’t worry we’re on our way there now, calm down honey it’s going to be okay” he then says to her before hanging up.

“Dude, you need to set our course for Banner Churchill hospital. There’s been an accident back at the ranch. It’s Gemma, she, she’s been kicked in the head by one of the horses” He then explains to me in a shaky voice. You know that moment when something you hear terrifies you so much that you feel your own soul leave your body? That ju
st happened to me....
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Fri Apr 15, 2011 1:17 pm

I loved the fact that this was one of those identifying chapters of the fic honey - you really made it all pop with the unmistakable chemistry and connection that all the characters share with one another. It just feels like they have made a great little family, and they manage to communicate with one another so well that I am sure they would probably manage to do that without even talking to one another.

What is obvious is that all the characters have very strong personalities and know what they like and don't like, and they make allowances for that with one another - just like when you mentioned Suze doesn't want to ride - it's good that Gemma doesn't push for Suze to at least just try it once and it's very me haha. Much more of a dog person haha. I also loved the fact that the guys went off and did something much more their style - it shows that all the relationships are so established that they don't have to be with one another all the time. It makes it all that more real when reading.

And then the ending - WHY!?! WHY!?! do you do that lol. You leave me craving more and more every time Very Happy I hope that Gemma will be ok, but I have that feeling of more tradegy coming Christian's way. Brave honey - you've got me well and truly hooked Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Five.   Mon Apr 18, 2011 2:11 am

Christian’s POV

As soon as Ian told me what Bridgette had told him, I went cold all over. As I described, it felt like my soul had left my body for a few moments, while my foot hit the accelerator pedal and we did close to a hundred down the highway. Right now as I navigate us through the busy streets of Churchill all I can think is ‘please god, don’t let her die’. Being kicked by a horse is bad enough, taking a kick to the head usually spells death. Because Bridgette was understandably very upset Ian couldn’t get any other details from her other than that they were on their way to the hospital and that obviously the kick had knocked Gemma completely unconscious.

“I’ll park up, you get in there now and find out what’s going on” Ian says as we hit a line of traffic queuing up to get into the hospital, with Jensen throwing himself out of the back seat and coming with me. I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared as I am now in the whole of my life. We race into the ER department and find Suze sitting on her own, looking pale and shaken.

“What happened? Where is she?” I ask as soon as we get to her, pacing around in front of her as Jensen sits down in the available seat next to her and puts his arm around her.

“I didn’t see it because I wasn’t with them; I was talking to Tony out by the paddocks. But from what Bridgette tells me she went to get Charlie in from the paddock, and just as she took off his halter back in his stable he just spun around and kicked her twice, once in the side and the second time in her head. Bridgette saw it coming before it happened, since she was facing Charlie and Gemma had her back to him. She pulled her out of the way fast, but sadly not fast enough. She’s been treated for shock right now and they’re seeing what damage has been done to her arm; one back hoof hit her there, the other Gemma’s head. I heard Bridgette scream and I ran to them, and, and.....there was just so much blood! I thought, I th-thought she was dead!” she explains, stammering a little before breaking down into tears and burying her head against Jensen’s chest as she sobs. “She’s in surgery right now, no one can tell me anything until they get her out again. Other than the fact they’re fighting to save her life right now” she then adds, standing up and pulling me into a hug. A hug I really need to be fair. Cold numbness is all I can feel now, at hearing the words ‘they’re fighting to save her life’.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gone back and brought him. I should have damn well listened to her!” I rage at myself, softly pushing Suze away and pacing with my fists balled at my sides. I could beat the crap out of myself for this right now. It should have been me to take the kick to the head for insisting he stay in the first place, not her. Not my precious wife, who now might have to pay with her life for my stupid decision.

“Dude horses are dangerous animals, she could have just as easily injured herself like this from a fall, you can’t blame yourself” Jensen tells me firmly as he stands and stops my pacing by taking hold of both my arms.

“I can and I will, this is my fault” I reply, before sitting down with my head in my hands, a position I stay in until Ian gets there. The nurse takes his name and allows him through to see Bridgette, who has been taken down to a private room to be treated. That’s other persons’ safety and well being that’s been brought into jeopardy because of me right there too. Even though Suze has already told me what the current position is, I still go over to the desk and ask a passing nurse behind it what’s happening and what exact injuries Gemma has sustained.

“They rushed your wife straight down to surgery after she came in Mr Kane. I’m afraid we really will not have anything to tell you until she comes out” the nurse tells me after my question.

“When will that be?” I ask her.

“It could be fifteen minutes, or it could be fifty. I’m sorry sir, I just don’t know” she tells me, efficiently but with a kind smile while I nod and turn away from the desk back to my friends.

“I need to call her parents. I’ll be outside, come get me if she comes out and I’m still out there” I tell them numbly, turning on my heel and heading for the exit. I find somewhere to sit the wall just near the entrance and pull my cell out. I’m dreading having to call them.

“Hello” Chloe answers on the sixth ring.

“Hi Mom” I reply. Just like my parents did with Gemma, Chloe and Emilio insisted I call them Mom and Dad after we got married. Well, Emilio is ‘pop’ to me. He always has been and we get on amazingly well. He’s a truly great man.

“Hello my darling! You don’t sound yourself at all, what’s the matter?” she immediately asks me. Chloe knows me well. She can pick up on anything that might be wrong with me by my tone of voice instantly. After I’ve told her the news I’m not the only one who doesn’t sound myself either. She tells me she and Emilio are on their way, and just as I hang up I hear the sound of someone vaulting up on the wall next to me. I turn to see Suze, who hands me a lit cigarette I accept gratefully.

“One thing I can tell you is thus; the medic told me if the kick had been three inches to the left, she would have died instantly. She’s lucky to be alive even now, but I know she’s going to be okay because Gemma is so damn tough. She doesn’t let anything stand in her way” she tells me.

“I know you mean well Suze, but don’t sugar the pill okay? She could still die, or be horribly brain damaged for the rest of her life. Realistically, she doesn’t stand much chance of getting out of this without some kind of lasting damage” I tell her, trying not to shout. It isn’t her fault, it’s mine.

“You don’t know that for sure. None of us do. You’re speculating the worst and you need to stop that right now. We just have to wait it out, so now I’m just going to sit here and shut the fuck up. But I’m here for you, silently” she says, nodding at me before making a zipper motion across her lips and throwing away and imaginary key. It makes a small smile twitch to my mouth, before I think of Gemma and my guts sink to my boots once more. Please god please let her be okay. If anything happens to her….if she dies, I’ll never forgive myself. Sitting here all I can think about are all the nasty possible things that could afflict her because of this. When I close my eyes all I can see is her smiling at me, and it’s practically intolerable not knowing if I’ll ever witness that sight again. My favourite memory of her smiling then plays over in my head as I sit and slip into my own little world.

It was 2003, and I had recently wrapped up filming Just Married (spookily enough, as you’ll gather the more I tell you). Since it was shot in California I got to spend a lot of time with Gemma, well more time than we were used to. I’d drive down to Nevada whenever I could, sometimes getting by on only two hours sleep a night if I was filming and seeing her. Anyway, one afternoon she was with me up at my place in LA and we’d just got back from the grocery store. I’d had the idea for a while, but wasn’t sure exactly on how to execute the plan. I’d never forgotten something she said to me, months and months before. She’d said ‘the kind of coffee you drink is such a make or break deal for me. I’d never marry a guy who brought lousy coffee’ when I asked her some silly question I can’t quite remember. So when she wasn’t looking at the store, I opened the tin of coffee and put something inside ready for her to find when we got back to my place. That something was a 1.61 carat pear shaped diamond engagement ring. I left her to do the unpacking in the kitchen, not wanting to be standing there when she found it, or read the small tag attached to this.

“So, am I make or break?” is all I wrote on it.

“Definitely make” she told me when she walked into the lounge, smiling that beautiful smile. I barely managed to put the ring on her finger for her I was so busy kissing her, beyond thrilled she’d just agreed to be my wife. We didn’t wait for long to marry either, becoming Mr and Mrs Kane just five months later. I know it sounds a cliché but it truly was the happiest day of my life, and yes, she had that smile on her face the entire time. I have to see that smile again. I really will never forgive myself if I don’t.

“I think I’m ready to go back in now” I tell Suze, turning to see her nod and jump down off the wall. When we’re walking back up to the hospital itself she puts her arm around me and gives my side a squeeze, sighing audibly. I put my arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head. I’m not the only one who has a right to be worried, or needs support here. Gemma and she are like sisters, the same with Bridgette and Sharon too. Of course she’s shitting herself about the outcome of this too. Back in the ER department we wait a further half an hour before a doctor comes out to talk to me. It was the longest half hour of my fucking life.

“Mr Kane, if you’d like to follow me to my office” he says, pausing only briefly before carrying on down the hallway. We take a turn to the left and then stop immediately at his door and step inside. He waits until I’ve taken a seat before he refers to what must be her file and begins to speak.

“Okay, I just got out of surgery operating on Mrs Kane and I’m pleased to say the procedure went well. The kick she sustained was to the front of her skull, and thus caused a bleed from her frontal lobe we successfully managed to stop. She was very lucky to have had someone there to pull her back, a few inches to the left and she would have died.
We’re keeping her in a medically induced comatose state at present, and will be for at least a week. Until we can assess the damage to the frontal lobe further and deter it safe for her to be brought around. There is where a snag lies. It’ll be ‘if’ she comes around. She could remain in a comatose state naturally. Her brainwaves and functioning are below normal, indicating it is a probable prognosis.

Frontal lobe injuries can either cause permanent changes, or wear off over time as the patient recovers. Your wife could experience personality changes, difficulty with learning and speech, a reduced understanding of perceptions or dangerous situations and bouts of very erratic behaviour. I am pleased to say that the damage was not extensive enough to threaten her life per say, but we are relying on her brain functions to improve to know the full extent of the damage” he explains to me carefully, while I just sit and nod, realizing I haven’t even blinked since he began speaking.

“When can I see her?” I ask, after mentally digesting the information I’ve been given as best I can.

“I’ll take you now Mr Kane” he replies before getting up and leading the way out again. I dread seeing her with every single step I take, until I’m lead into a room, my wife lying on the bed hooked up to a hell of a lot of machines. Her head is bandaged and her brows and eyes are swollen and already starting to bruise. She doesn’t look like her, and as I take a seat beside her and hear the doctor leave quietly it takes me a few minutes to really accept it is her. I just sit there, staring at her and holding her hand, wishing I could turn back the clock and never have brought that damned horse home with me. It’s all very hard to take in, and I don’t even realize I’ve been in there for an hour before the doctor comes back to check on her.
The only time I leave her is to go outside, call my agent and cancel everything I have planned workwise for the foreseeable, not giving a damn about the consequences but still managing to feel bad about letting people down. I can’t leave Gemma though, surely anyone can understand that? I then go back and tell Jensen and Suze they can go and see her while I take a trip back to the desk and enquire where Bridgette is before taking a trip to see her.

“Hey pretty girl” I tell her warmly yet sadly when I see her all bandaged up. I am however relieved to see her dressed and sitting on the bed looking like she’s ready to leave.

“Hey big guy, how are you? And how’s our girl?” she asks me as Ian closes the door behind me and I go and sit next to her, giving her a gentle hug. Her arm is heavily bandaged, but not broken by the looks of things.

“Pretty bad to be honest, they won’t know the full extent of the damage for a few days yet. They need to keep monitoring her brain activity and see if it picks up because right now it’s below normal. But the surgery went well, they saved her life and they told me her injuries wouldn’t threaten her life either. The only problem is other than not knowing the full extent of the damage to her brain yet is the fact that when they bring her round from the medically induced coma she’s in, she still might not wake up” I explain to her, feeling terrible all over again when she begins to cry.

“Try not to get too upset hon, they’ve only just been able to get your blood pressure back down again” Ian tells her gently, sitting down on the other side of her while I stand again, standing in front of her and kissing her forehead.

“You saved her life Bridgette, if you hadn’t have been there to pull her out of the way it could have been so much worse. She could have died if it wasn’t for you. I can’t even begin to tell you how thankful I am to you that you were there” I tell her, needing her to know just how much I appreciate her.

“That’s not all she did. The medics who were at the scene and the nurses here praised her no end for how fast she was to firstly pull her out of the way, and then put her in the recovery position and wrap her head up in her jacket to stem the bleeding a little. You were fucking awesome, you saved her life Chris is right” Ian tells both me and her.

“I’m just waiting for the doctor to give me a final all clear and I’m good to go. After that, can I come and see her?” she asks me.

“Of course you can. Jensen and Suze are in with her right now; I’m just going to duck outside and go buy some smokes from the store down the road because I need ‘em right now. Then there are a few more people I need to call to let them know what’s happened. After that, I’m not leaving her side” I reply, watching them both nod and Bridgette grab her purse and look inside.

“Here, take mine. I’ll bum off Ian until I can buy another pack” she says, handing me her cigarettes and lighter with a smile, and insisting when I begin to protest. Another doctor different to Gemma’s comes in shortly after, and I leave them to it after telling them what room Gemma is in. The next people I think to call are my parents, and then a man I know who will be a hundred and ten percent there for me in light of all this.

“Speak to me you dirty fucking redneck!” Dave says brightly upon answering his phone. The only other thing my best friend tells me after I’ve told him the news is ‘four hours and I’m there dude, I’m getting in my car like now’ before hanging up. I knew he’d be supportive, so I’m really touched to know just how supportive he is by just dropping everything to be here for me, for us. He adores Gemma. I remember when I got back from staying with her in Nevada, when we’d only been together for three weeks. He knew by just looking at me how damn smitten I was with her. I remember that afternoon when I met up with him like it was yesterday...

“Oh, oh man! That face says it all! Someone got laid in Nevada!” he shouted at me as I shrank in my seat a little in the outside seating area of the bar I was meeting him at.

“Did you really have to broadcast your assumptions quite so damn loudly?” I asked him as he did his usual thing of hugging my head and totally messing up my hair. He does it on purpose.

“YES!” He replied even louder, making half the patrons of the restaurant turn around and stare at him, a few whispering ‘that’s Angel!’ amongst themselves. I was glad that back then I didn’t get recognised half as much as he did.

“So how’ve you been bro?” I asked him as he sat down.

“Never mind about me, all good, same old same old, I wanna hear about the girl! Tell me about the girl!” he asked me excitedly. I hadn’t seen him since before I started dating Gemma, and he’d only heard about her very briefly over the phone one time at that point.

“Well as you know already her name is Gemma Alvarez, she’s 22 and she works two jobs right now, one at a florist in the daytime and the other as a check in girl as a club up in Vegas. She’s just about to leave the florist actually, like I told you she’s starting up her own business as a horse trainer. Also, I have so much in common with her it’s scary! But plenty of things we clash over too, so there’s a nice balance there” I began as he nodded, listening eagerly. Dave is one of the very few people out there capable of giving someone his complete and undivided attention. I’ve always loved that about him too.

“It’s about time you met someone with a few common interests for once” he commented.

“I know you’re right it is. She can sing and play guitar like me, we both love animals, whiskey, Alice in Chains, the same films and iconic people, some of the same music too. She listens to more or less everything; she’s so eclectic like that. She’s just.....amazing, she really is an amazing girl” I replied with a smile I couldn’t help as I thought about her. I’d only been away from her and back in LA for three days and I missed her like crazy.

“And damn good in bed too. I can see it all over your face man” he then said, making me laugh.

“Well yeah, there’s that too” I replied with a big grin.

“You’re hooked on her, completely and utterly hooked! Which after three weeks is a record for you, Mr Guarded” he replied. He was right in what he said too, I was very guarded with women before Gemma came along. Not because I’d had my heart broken (well, I had but that wasn’t the penultimate reason) but because girls began to recognise me from my acting and I found myself becoming involved with some very shallow people. All they cared about was Christian Kane the actor; they didn’t give a shit about my music or the person I was behind the characters I’d played either. I became very good at being able to sniff them out. Gemma wasn’t anything like them though as I’m sure you can gather.

“This much is true, I’ll admit it. I’m fucking crazy about her. I can’t wait for you to meet her either, I think I’ll wait a few weeks for that though, just to see how it goes” I replied, with Dave agreeing that it was a good idea.

“I can’t wait to meet her either” he told me. Back in the here and now, and just three hours and thirty five minutes after I called him at his home in LA he’s sitting on the other side of her bed, holding her hand and gently stroking her arm. He looks just how I feel, heartbroken.

“How the hell is she even still alive?” he whispers, more to himself than me.

“The same thing has been going around my head too. Technically, she might be dead though. Brain dead that is, it’s a possibility I have to prepare myself for. Her brain activity might never pick up. They’ll only know in time” I reply, leaning back in my seat and taking a deep breath I let out really slowly.

“Until then, we just keep thinking positive thoughts and wait. She’s made it this far Chris; you could have lost her right at that moment. That’s something to consider right there” he replies gently, while I nod in agreement. Considering Gemma, her current state and what lies ahead are the only things my mind will let me consider right now. The only thoughts of importance all now revolve around her wellbeing. Until I know she’s going to be okay, nothing but nothing else matters.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Mon Apr 18, 2011 2:54 pm

WOW there is so much raw emotion in this update and it makes it so easy to get caught up in the moment - watching and waiting for Gemma to come around. You make it so easy for the reader to become involved in the drama on the screen; it's like witnessing private moments between all these wonderful characters.

Everything was spot on too - from the way that everyone was reacting to the news; all the little details about touches, and looks were completely on the mark for the situation. It could have been so easy for Christian to start pointing blame and no one could have blamed him for that - but the fact that he is rational enough in his mind to only care about his wife; shows a real strength of character in him and one that makes it so much easier to relate to him. The fire in him for Gemma is so strong that it makes a very powerfully emotional read and it highlights the strengths that he has in him. I hope that someone will assure him that this isn't his fault in anyway. I can see him blaming himself rather than just accepting that this was a horrendous accident that couldn't have been predicted.

And poor Bridgette - she must feel terribly guilty too but she saved Gemma's life and I hope that Ian can make her see that indefinitely. It's so easy to blame yourself when an accident like this occurs, but the truth is; no one could have stopped it from happening. Then we get the entrance of David (HOTTIE) lol, and I love that he just dropped everything and rushed to his best friends side. It definitely shows the true strength of their friendship. I enjoyed the little trip down memory lane with him and Christian - I can so picture that entire scene with ease. David comes across as this brash, larger than life persona and you detailed that so perfectly with his first words to his best friend. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant work and I am looking forward to the next update as always Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Six.   Tue Apr 19, 2011 1:03 pm

Bridgette’s POV

“Hey sweetie, what are you doing here?” Tony asks me as I walk onto the stable yard, three days after the accident happened.

“I told Ian he could more than handle things without me at work, because I knew with no Gemma and no Christian here you guys would be left struggling. So I wanna help. I’ll ride Mack and Maggie, de shit stables and paddocks, anything to help out” I reply, to which Tony smiles kindly and nods in reply.

“Gemma’s right, you are one in a million. We went out early this morning and picked the shit out of all the paddocks, but there are a couple of stables that need doing. Leave Charlie’s to me though, I don’t want anyone going near him. Chris and I discussed it on the phone the other night, he said unless it’s me, him or Emilio no one is to even enter his box” he replies. I can understand that completely. Christian hasn’t even been back here since the accident happened. He’s been at Gemma’s bedside for the last three days solidly. I’d be in the exact same place if it was Ian in that bed.

Letting Tony carry on with his work I grab the tools I need to muck out the stables, looking over the tops of the doors to see who has been done and who hasn’t, seeing that apart from Charlie’s stable there are five to do in total. I get to it quickly, needing to occupy my mind and not worry about my best friend. Fat chance, I can’t get what happened out of my head. When I walk past Charlie’s stable I can even see a small trace of blood still on the floor that looks to have been well scrubbed. The sight makes me freeze for a few moments as tears fill my eyes, the moment I saw Charlie’s hoof strike her in the head playing over in my mind like a nightmare. It was the most horrible thing I think I’ve ever witnessed. When I noticed blood coming from her nose and ears it sent me cold to have to check for her pulse. Thank god it was still existent.
I’m so thankful to Ian for telling me to take some time off. He’s so understanding of the fact that right now my mind is elsewhere, and that anything I can do to help my friends out at this time is what is going to make me feel useful. I need to feel useful in a crisis. Ian and I own our own real estate company here in Nevada, so taking time off when you’re the boss is relatively easy.

“Maggie May, hello princess” I coo softly at Christian’s beautiful big horse as I enter her stable. Her ear spring forward immediately and she greets me with a soft little whickering noise from her nose, nostrils flaring as she comes to greet me. Even though I don’t have to as she’s so well behaved I take her halter off the hook outside of her box and tie her up before beginning to sort the dry wood shavings from the wet and pick out the small piles of poo while she stands eating her hay happily. She’s one of those horses who are a dream to clean the stable of.

Some horses, without even being taught sometimes have a preference to where they go to the toilet, and Maggie poops in one corner and pees in the other so it means it only takes me ten minutes before I’m done with her stable, heaving in a fresh bale of wood shavings and emptying half of it in to make up for the dirty shaving that I took out. Once I’m done with that I groom her, and then move along to Mack’s stable next door to repeat the process. It’s a good way to lose my thoughts for a while, yet once I’m finished doing all the stables and grooming each occupant within. But once I’m up on Maggie’s back riding her over the vast expanse of land that surrounds the ranch my thoughts immediately fall back to Gemma.

Her brain functions and activity rose by ten percent yesterday, which was a very good sign according to her doctor. Sadly though, through a scan they did find more damage to her brain in the form of heavy bruising. She took a knock to the back side of her head when Charlie kicked out and caught us both, because the arm I dragged her out of the way with was the one he caught with his hoof and I lost my grip on her, meaning she fell back and hit her head on the concrete. Apparently it was another miracle that my arm wasn’t broken, just badly bruised. He only clipped it with the tip of his hoof fortunately, but I’m told that is still enough to cause a breakage.

I really shouldn’t be riding I don’t think, but it doesn’t hurt that much to be honest and I’m not doing anything heavy duty. I also have a strong support glove on too, and walking around the fields is very tranquil and requires very little effort from my sore arm. Anyway, back to Gemma. The part of her brain that suffered further injury was the hippocampus, which stores her long term memory. We’ve been told she might not remember certain things because of this, but frustratingly it is yet another thing that cannot be pinpointed or determined exactly until she’s brought out of the medical coma she’s in. Even then, it’s a wait of an indefinite time for her to wake up on her own. Her mom and Christian are with her all the time, but Chloe and Emilio have been taking it in turns and then coming back here to rest before swapping again. Christian has been at her side for sixty eight hours now.

When Chloe came back here this morning she told me that he hasn’t slept or eaten once in the time he’s been at the hospital. His answer whenever she urged him to sleep or have something to eat was that he couldn’t sleep if he tried, and that he had no appetite. She also said she’d asked Emilio to talk some sense into him since the two are close and if Christian will listen to anyone, it’s his father in law.

Emilio thinks of him like a real son, he couldn’t be happier when Gemma told him she was getting married, that was for sure. He already knew though, about the proposal at least. Christian had done the proper thing by asking Emilio first, something the tall and handsome Mexican man had been very touched over. I hope he does talk some sense into Christian, because being overtired and undernourished never did anyone any good. Also, Gemma will only shout at all of us for not looking after him for her too. When she wakes up, I will not say ‘if’. It is ‘when’. It will happen.

Emilio’s POV

“Christian, go. Now” I order my son in law as once again his head slips from its rested place against his hand, where he’s propping himself up and trying to stay awake. “But for god’s sake have a strong coffee first” I then add. The man is absolutely exhausted, but he will not leave my daughters’ side and as much as I admire that I cannot let it stand when he looks as tired as he does.

“I’m not going anywhere” he mumbles, his eyes leaving Gemma only for a few moments to give me an apologetic look.

“Son, I love you dearly. But unless you’re out of that chair in the next ten seconds I’m going to personally remove you from it, drag you out of this hospital and throw you into a cab shortly after. Go home” I tell him, deadly seriously. I don’t want to be harsh, but I have to be to make him get his ass home and into bed. He needs the rest. He also knows better to argue with a man of his word. I will drag him out of here forcibly if he refuses again. I have 80lbs on him and an extra five inches in height after all. It’s something I can do easily.

“I’ll be back later then” he replies, getting up reluctantly and softly kissing Gemma’s cheek before he walks to the door.

“Pop, call me if anything happens” he says as he pauses in the open doorway.

“You know I will” I assure him, turning back to Gemma when the door shuts behind him. I look over at her and hold her hand again, smiling at her. I have every faith she’ll awake again eventually, if god wanted to take her from us he would have done it when the accident happened. Still, it doesn’t stop me worrying about what damage we are yet to discover when she does wake up, the mental damage that is. The scan they ran showed heavy bruising to her brain, and gave us a very long list of possible outcomes. They just will now know what has been affected until after she wakes up, and also after the bruising has been allowed time to heal.

It is very much true that this situation is every father’s nightmare, but I have been through it before. That doesn’t make my daughters’ plight any less serious, but it just means that I have equipped myself to deal with this sight a little better. When my son Huey was just seven years old the doctors diagnosed him with Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Chloe and I were crestfallen, absolutely heartbroken that our little boy who we still referred to as ‘the baby’ had an illness so deadly afflicting him. It was stage three when it was found, and the poor little kid needed so much radiation and so much chemotherapy he could barely move for days after a treatment. He was in constant pain, but so brave.

The only time he ever cried was when the sores in his mouth from the chemotherapy (a common side effect) prevented him from eating. Even when he got an infection in the line in his chest and contracted septicaemia which almost killed him, he still didn’t shed a tear throughout his stay in the intensive care unit, hooked up to all manner of machines. He was terribly sick for a long time, eighteen months in total before we finally got the wonderful news that he was in remission. I’ve waited patiently for good news before, I can do it again. They worry that once they bring Gemma around from her medically incapacitated state that she might not wake up, she might be comatose naturally if her brain activity doesn’t continue to pick up. All I have to say on that is as long as she does wake up eventually; I do not care how long I have to wait. I’m a very, very patient man. I can wait forever. That wonderful man she’s married to will wait forever for her to.

“All in your own time mi muchacha hermosa” I tell her, gently stroking her hair. Mi muchacha hermosa is Spanish for my beautiful girl, exactly what she is to me. I remember the moment I first saw her, this blood covered, shrivelled pink little baby screaming her heart out in my arms as I laughed with pure joy and held her tightly. I was overcome with emotion to be blessed for a second time after Eloise’s birth three years before. I was even more overcome to take her to my sick mother after she and Chloe left the hospital. Consuela was bed bound, in the final stages of her battle against breast cancer. She hung on to see Gemma, said she could not leave for god’s kingdom until she had held her granddaughter at least once.

“Oh, usted pequeño bebé hermoso. He esperado este momento, para encontrarle mi precioso. Oh cómo te amo” my mother said weakly as she held Gemma in her arms, stroking her cheek with her forefinger. Translated, what she said to her was
‘Oh, you beautiful little baby. I have waited for this moment, to meet you my precious. Oh how I love you’. She died two weeks later. How I wish Gemma could have got to know her, to have realized just how much like her grandmother she is. In appearance as well as nature, she is very much like her. She has her tenacity for one thing, so that is what keeps my thoughts positive that she’ll come through this and still be the daughter I remember. When faith is tested, letting go of that faith is not an option.

It’s just me and Gemma until 1pm, when my daughter in law Minnie arrives to visit. Even though she and Huey are not married they have been together for twelve years so are as good as married in my eyes.

“Hey dad” she says as she comes in, bending to hug my shoulders and just stand there for a few silent moments, looking on at Gemma.

“Well, I’m glad she isn’t awake to feel how painful that bruising and swelling looks. Jesus Christ, he got her good” she continues, shaking her head and sighing before going to take a seat on the other side of the bed.

“He did, bad tempered little thing. I’m going to go and see what I can do with him tomorrow in the daytime; they cannot have a loose cannon like him on their hands if this is what he is capable of” I reply, watching Minnie frown a little.

“Christian should just sell him to someone else! I know you’re a horse expert dad but really, is he worth that kind of effort? Sell him on I say” she snorts.

“He cannot do that querido, its irresponsible to sell on a horse like that to someone. He needs fixing or sending back to where he got him from in the first place” I tell her. Querido is Spanish for darling in case you wondered.

“I suppose you’re right. So has there been any change today?” she asks me.

“Her brain activity went up by a further three percent this morning, and apparently all the bruising has now come out. It’s good she’s out because the kick to her side broke two of her ribs too; breathing would be so painful for her right now. So I agree with what you said when you came in” I reply, watching Minnie nodding.

“Huey said he’s going to come down after work, hit the freeway out of California straight from the office. I came early because my mom can only watch the kids until 8pm so I gotta get back. He’s arranged to stay over at the ranch with you guys since he’s not working tomorrow” she replies.

“Yes, he told me on the phone” I tell her. We make small talk like this for a few more moments before both returning to silence. In my hand that is not holding Gemma’s I grasp the beads of my late mothers’ rosary, reciting Hail Mary’s in my head. As I have stated, I have every faith.

Christian’s POV

My mom always says that in times of crisis, laughter is the best medicine in the world for your worries. I tried taking that advice, by lying in bed watching various comedy DVD’s. Currently Dennis Leary is making me half smile in places, but is yet to raise a chuckle. I’m just too damn down. I’ve slept for about six hours which was quite surprising, but it wasn’t a restful sleep since all I did was dream about Gemma. I think that’s the main reason that’s wrong with this particular DVD; my wife isn’t here next to me laughing her ass off. She’s a big Dennis Leary fan. It’s also the reason the bed doesn’t feel right, because she’s not in it next to me. The house overall doesn’t feel right without her in it, without her noise contributing to it. It’s too quiet without her and I hate it.

Chloe has been amazing. I came home today to find the whole house clean and as I left it, saw she’d been to the grocery store and also that she’d made breakfast for me. The dogs were all content, and as I ate she did the laundry, insisting not to be helped at all.

“I like doing it my love, I like to look after you” she told me with a smile. I’m glad she’s here; the house doesn’t feel quite so empty with her around. Right now though, lying here in bed I do feel very lonely, and miss my wife immensely. I do have one constant companion though, who has been at my side since I got home, and that’s Hooch. He’s very, very attached to Gemma, and now she hasn’t been home for three days he’s feeling very insecure without her here. So he’s clinging to me because he’s confused and upset that she hasn’t come back.

I keep wanting to tell her things, and then realizing I can’t. I’d only been home a few days when the accident happened and I’d really looked forward to spending some time with her. If it hadn’t have happened I’d have been leaving again tomorrow, hitting the road for the radio tour of my band’s new album. I’m going nowhere until she’s better again. Christian Kane is officially off limits to anything that isn’t being there for his wife right now. Speaking of which, I think I’m going to take a shower and then get back over to the hospital. I don’t want to be away from her for much longer, even if she has no idea that I’m even there. Being close to her is all I care about.

Chloe and I travel to the hospital together, Emilio taking my truck back with him when he leaves. After four hours Chloe then leaves, leaving just me and Gemma. I sit backwards in the chair and lean back on the bed, my head close to her side (the side with unbroken ribs) and hold her hand to my chest. It’s a way she often used to lie with me, stating she liked feeling my heart beating under her hand. I miss her, she’s right here next to me yet I miss her terribly. I want her back to how I remember her, not like this. But it’s a wish that cannot be granted. As much as I hate it I have to wait this out, and that wait could be for a long, long time yet.

Time does seem to move quickly though, because before I know it Gemma has been in hospital for ten days, ten days that stretch into fourteen and fourteen that stretch out into twenty four. After nineteen days her brain had recovered from the bruising sufficiently enough (but not totally of course, that is a long way off), and the functioning was just a tiny little bit below normal which was good enough to bring out of the suspended state the medication had left her in. That was five days ago, her brainwaves returned to normal last night so the doctors said she has every chance of waking soon. Her face looks a lot better now, no longer swollen but still bandaged (she had to have a thin steel plate placed across the front of her skull) and being dressed with some sort of spray to minimize the scarring to her forehead apparently. I don’t think she’d mind a scar to be honest, as long as she was alive she’d count that as enough.

“I’m becoming more and more convinced as the days pass that the kick cannot have been a full impact blow to the head. We assessed from her scan this morning that the affected areas of her brain are still bruised, that will need further time to return to normal. Overall we’re pleased with her progress though, her brain activity has returned to normal apart from the area controlling her consciousness of course. Also, because of the speed of this brain activity, and through reading scan and test results we can conclude the likelihood of Mrs Kane having severe brain damage is no longer a risk. The readings we’ve gathered through electrical impulses inform us everything is working at a speed and processing rate that cancels out that risk I’m pleased to say” her doctor tells me one afternoon just as he’s beginning his shift.

“Thank you for everything you’re doing for her” I tell him sincerely.

“You’re more than welcome” he replies before leaving to go and see the next patient on his rounds.

“Hear that beautiful, you’re getting better every day” I tell Gemma, smiling at her. It’s more comfortable to look at her now all her bruising has faded to just traces of violet and yellow. The incision on her head is still stitched and scabby though, with darker bruising surrounding that. Right there is where the skin was split open from Charlie’s hoof, and they went in there when repairing to crack to the front of her skull with a small half inch by half inch plate. I still maintain Bridgette saved her life, pulling her back from the full brunt of the kick like that.

“I know I’m here all the time with you, but I miss you so damn much baby. I hate not having you to talk to the most” I tell her with a sigh, shaking my head and folding my arms as I look down. I keep hoping that every time I look away from her that she might have opened her eyes in the time before I look back, but sadly that hasn’t happened. I’m not giving up hope that it will soon though, because if I know one thing for sure it’s that nothing keeps Gemma down for long.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Tue Apr 19, 2011 1:43 pm

This was another emotionally charged update honey - you have all the emotions spot on and the detail is so intricate that it truly feels like I am in the room with them all. Clearly Gemma has a huge impact on the people in her life - that is obvious from the way that everyone is rallying around to help or do what they can. I liked seeing Bridgette's pov on things and how she is blaming herself in part; when it truly was not her fault, but it is human instinct to blame ourselves isn't it? you just brought that through so clearly. I enjoyed reading about her helping with the stables and the horses - giving a clear insight to how strong her bond is with Gemma. And Charlie bless his little hooves lol - he seems so well trained and well tempered too.

Then onto the wonderful Emilio's pov - I really loved reading things from his perspective - the way he has the strongest faith that Gemma will come through this and that she will be perfectly fine. It makes for a more realistic view of the entire story; seeing a proud father vigorious in his attention and duty to stay by Gemma's side. He is very wise - being that when your faith is being knocked and battered; you can't give up on it - how true are those words? The brief explanation of Gemma's birth and how he felt, really deepened the connection that he has to her as her Father.

Then poor Christian and Hooch - completely lost without her, and wanting nothing more than to have her back with him - powerful and emotional use of scene in this part honey, you make it so easy to just get lost in the entire story and all I wanted to do was hug our poor man and tell him that everything is going to be alright. I look forward to the next update as always Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Seven.   Wed Apr 20, 2011 12:36 pm

Chapter Seven

Chloe’s POV

“So the doctor and nurses told me that familiar sounds might work in helping you wake up. Well, you have the familiar sounds of me and daddy talking to you, your brother when he can make it, your friends and of course that lovely husband of yours. I thought I’d see if this works too” I tell my daughter as I brush her hair. The ‘this’ I’m referring to is the fact that I ripped all of her favourite films to her laptop computer last night, and brought it in with me today. I needed something to keep my mind occupied too while I sit with her. It gets hard, seeing your baby unconscious all the time. It’s now been eight weeks since the accident.

At the moment we’re watching a film called ‘Pans Labyrinth’ which happens to be one of Gemma’s favourites. I thought it was quite spooky when I first pulled the counter around over her bed and rested the laptop down as the film began, but now I see the strange beauty in it. Gemma is fascinated by special effects, intricate costuming and makeup. I think it’s a career she would have fitted into nicely if she hadn’t have chosen to train horses.

“I kicked Chris out again this morning to go home and sleep. He still hates leaving you, he’s so devoted to you honey. You don’t need me to tell you that though” I tell Gemma, gently lifting her head to move her hair out from under her shoulders. Two months have been sufficient time for the bruising to her brain to begin healing with good progress, and thankfully they’ve been able to assess that the damage has been minimal. The only thing they cannot guarantee is the fact that her personality could be drastically altered or she could suffer memory loss because of which places in her brain that received the injury for two things. Several other things could be affected to, either permanently or short term. We just won’t know any more until she wakes up.

“He doesn’t look himself you know sweetie, he misses you. He’s put everything on hold to be here for you. It doesn’t surprise me at all, that’s the kind of man he is, isn’t he?” I then tell Gemma, smiling warmly as I think of my son in law. I’ve never seen a man love my daughter more. I remember when Emilio and I first met him. Gemma had been dating him for about four months, and even back then, they just looked so right together. I’ll never forget how happy she looked……

“I think our little girl is in love” I told Emilio as I brought us some coffee out to the lovely old iron table we were sitting at in our garden. Gemma and Christian were walking through the small orchard at the back, arm in arm and looking so beautiful and so in love with each other.

“I’m glad. He’s a good guy she’s got there, a very good guy. He’s polite, well spoken, mature, ambitious and smart. As well as the fact he truly cares about her; I see all of that so clearly already. He’s very genuine” Emilio replied as he reached over and squeezed my hand before he retrieved his coffee from the tray.

“I like that he’s a few years older than her too. I don’t know, lads her age just never seem mature enough and you’re right love, he’s not a stupid little boy like the last one. Look how much he makes her laugh too! Have you ever seen Gemma laugh like that? Look at her!” I replied, pointing out to where our daughter as laughing like a hyena at whatever her boyfriend was telling her.

“He certainly makes her happy” Emilio replied, smiling as he watched them continuing to walk. From that first day that I witnessed them together, I just knew they fitted perfectly. It looked to me like it was more than just that first flush of infatuated young love too, that perfect togetherness they shared when they were dating never faltered. On the day they married you could barely get to speak to one without the other right there, stuck together like someone had glued them at the sides. They were so damn cute.

“Awwww Gem, I miss you sweetie. Two months is a long time to go without hearing your voice, especially when we speak everyday” I tell her, my voice trembling as I shed a few tears of frustration. Not frustration at her, just the situation, what happened to her in the first place. Christian still blames himself for it since he brought the horse who did it against her wishes, but no one else does. I think he just needs someone or something to blame and that someone is him. The horse responsible, Charlie, is still at the ranch. Christian and Emilio are working with him to try and get him safe enough to sell on, since the original owner said he couldn’t buy him back on account of the fact he just doesn’t have the room for another horse, his yard is at full capacity. Apparently he’s improving in leaps and bounds too, just not in his stable. For some reason, that’s the place he turns on you. That’s the place he nearly killed my daughter in. Thank god Bridgette was there; thank god she pulled her back.

“Okay baby bean, let’s put another on” I tell Gemma as the credits of Pans Labyrinth begin to roll on the screen, touching my finger to the mouse pad and locating the next film over an hour later. Baby bean is my little nickname for her, because on her scan photograph when I was pregnant she looked like a little bean in my tummy. Emilio called her his ‘little Mexican jumping baby bean’ when she was very active with her kicks and movement, which was very apt.

“Ahhhhh, I like this one, so I’ll be quiet now so I can watch and you can listen” I say to Gemma as “Slumdog Millionaire” begins. I softly kiss the side of her forehead and take her hand in mine before getting comfortable in the chair next to her bed. I’m convinced; utterly convinced she can hear us talking and hear what is going on around her, even if she isn’t letting on just yet.

Christian’s POV

“Woah SHIT!” I suddenly hear through the peacefulness of the afternoon, standing outside my horses stable scratching her ears. Well, I was, but Maggie’s head has just flown so high in the air in alert surprise I can’t reach it right now. I turn to see the cause of the noise is Tony, who has just shut the door quickly on Charlie’s stable. I didn’t even need to look to know it’d be him playing up again.

“A fucking millimetre Chris, we nearly had another Gemma incident right here and I swear I am not being dramatic. Even if you take his halter off right at the door and face him there, he spins at the speed of light and lashes out instantly” Tony tells me a little shakily as I approach him.

“Well don’t worry, he won’t be doing it again” I tell him, taking Charlie’s halter from him and going into his stable. I walk to his shoulder and then quickly grab onto a handful of his mane and get myself as close to that shoulder as I can. He just spun to kick me, so if you get yourself up by their head quickly you can do what I’m about to do. I reach out and put my hand around his nose to stop him when he begins to spin around, and then secure the rope attached to his halter around his neck. I then fasten his halter up around his head, swing the stable door open and lead him out.

“Say goodbye Tony, this is the last time you’ll ever see him” I tell Tony on the way out.

“What? You’re not about to go put a bullet in him are you?” he asks. I don’t blame him for thinking that; my words could allude to something of that nature I realize.

“Not at all, I’m giving him what he wants. He hates people and that much is just plainly obvious, so I’m taking him where there are none” I reply simply, pausing for a few moments. As soon as he’s out of his stable, the snapping and kicking out stops, Charlie just stands quietly while Tony replies.

“You’re letting him go wild?”

“It’s the perfect solution. He can’t go back to Herb, he can’t stay here and I couldn’t live with myself selling on to someone knowing he might put another person in hospital. It’s the best thing all round. He’ll have the company of the wild horses already out in the desert, and they aren’t short of sustenance out there either” I reply, while Tony doesn’t look comfortable with the idea but nods. I lead Charlie away, absolutely adamant I’m doing the right thing. I’ve been considering this option ever since he kicked Gemma.

“Charlie, no matter what you did, I am sorry it had to come to this. You always look really happy when you’re with other horses, but people just aren’t your thing huh? This is perfect, no one to bother you but other horses” I tell him as I walk him through the first small field on our property. As I walk, I can’t help but notice Charlie keeps shoving me in the back as we go, I’m not sure if he’s being an asshole or just trying to be playful. I don’t trust him not to bite me in the ass, so I pull his head around to where I can see it, and we keep on walking. The grass begins to give way to more sandy terrain, as it thins to nothing and we’re walking across the arable land down towards where the big fence that borders our land from the Nevada wildlife. The walk down to the edge of our property takes a good twenty minutes, but I’m there before I’ve even had chance to blink it seems.To keep out the coyotes more than anything we have a five foot high electric fence that borders the property, and I stop to switch off the power running to the gate before unlocking it, tossing the chain and lock on the ground and opening the gate up to lead Charlie through.

“Welcome to the desert pal, there’s a stream that way and grass over there” I tell him after slipping off his halter. He just stands there staring at me.

“Go on you stupid animal, fuck off!” I then say, waving my arms at him and watching him jump back, spooked out. Yet after a few big puffs of air through his nostrils, he still stands there looking at me with confusion written all over his face.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! GO, GET LOST!” I then roar at him, running at him waving my arms to scare him more. This time he turns and runs away, and I head back to the gate quickly before he gets any ideas about trying to run back through it. I lock it and see him at a stop in the near distance, inspecting his new surroundings for the first time. As it goes, he doesn’t care much for them if the following moments are anything to go by. I walk away from the gate after locking it up and turning the charge back on, and slow my pace as I hear the sound of hooves thundering behind me, the noise getting closer and closer. Then suddenly, the noise is right behind me and I turn to see Charlie jump clean over the fence and come charging back to me, slowing himself down to a neat stop at my side.

“Did I not tell you a few moments ago to fuck off?” I ask him. He stares at me, ears pricked forward with his eyes wide. They
do it on purpose; all animals try and get around you with their best sweet and innocent face.

“Come on, back to the wild you go” I then tell him, pushing his shoulder, trying with all my strength to move him. He doesn’t budge an inch. I put his halter back on him and try to drag him along. Again, not an inch is budged. All four hooves are planted to the ground in adamant refusal to move. I think he’s trying to tell me he doesn’t want to go.

“Fine, well you can stay out here until I decide what to do with you. Because this is just your temporary home, you’re not staying here” I tell him, taking his halter off of him once more and leaving him where he is to roam around, until like I told him, I’ve figured out what to do with him. Looking at my watch as I walk back to the ranch I plan on going straight back to the hospital as soon as I’ve fed the dogs and given Tony the keys to lock our house up with (Gemma’s staff are allowed to come in and use the kitchen if they want a drink or anything). Also as I walk, I can’t help but notice I have a very big shadow following me. A Charlie shaped shadow. The shoving me in the back routine resumes soon after, also gently nibbling my fingers where I have my arms crossed behind my back.

“Why are you being nice now? I’m sorry but you nearly killed my old lady and for that no amount of cuteness with cut any ice with me dude” I tell him. But still he keeps on shoving me, until he manages to do it hard enough to knock me off balance.

“WHAT? What Charlie?” I shout at him after he nearly knocks me to the floor. I turn to face him, and that’s when he does it. He just leans into my chest, pressing his face against me with his head down submissively. When I look down, he even has his eyes closed for a few moments. I wonder, is this some horse form of apology? Some way of conveying ‘I know I was bad, but please let me stay?’ Oh how soft I’m getting in my old age, because I fall for it, hook line and sinker right up until I’ve decided he can go back into the comfort of his stable, when…

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!” I exclaim after getting bit in the back as soon as I try to exit. Right, that’s it. He’s not making a monkey of me again the bad tempered little son of a bitch.

“He’s going back to Herb whether Herb wants him or not. Can you back my truck out and hook up the horsebox please Tony?” I ask the man himself as I lead Charlie out of the stable once more. Just fifteen minutes later and I’m on my way to Herb’s yard a half hour away from here. The drive gives me plenty of time to think, and at the end of the day Herb can’t refuse because I don’t even want a refund from him. I just want this damn creature off my hands, so he gets himself a free horse. Besides, I’m not a man who likes hearing the word no either. I will be coming home without Charlie, whatever Herb says.

When I arrive at Herb’s place I park up in the room allocated and then go on foot further up the drive towards the stable block. You have to walk around a solid wall of stables and then in under the arch before you see any signs of life here. As I approach, it sounds like someone has their hands full with one of Herb’s notoriously fiery horse, since I can hear voices shouting and the horse squealing and snorting. It isn’t until I get a little closer that I can see movement through a thin crack in the boards at the back of the stable, and can just about make out two men trying to control the horse on the end of a rope.

“Al, get the gun” I hear Herb’s voice speak from within the stable, just before the horse rears up again and lashes out at Herb with his front hooves. Curious to know what the hell is going on in there I approach quietly, and then stand silently as I look through the gap. What I see next is perhaps the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed someone do to an animal with my own eyes. The guy called Al moves out of my sight, and when he comes back he’s aiming a taser at the horse, which he proceeds to aim at and then fire. Two electric pins hit the poor animal in the shoulder and shock it to the floor as he squeals horrifically in pain, his body crashing to his knees as he makes soft noises of fear and submission in his throat. After pulling my cell out and taking pictures and a short video of what I can see, I save the files and then turn and head back to my truck quickly.

When I get there, I drop the ramp to the horsebox and go in, scratching Charlie’s neck to pacify him when he starts getting excited, thinking it’s time to come out. Once he’s calm again I begin to push the hair over his shoulder up with my fingertips and examine the skin underneath. Just when I think I’m not going to find anything, I see a tiny little round white scar on his skin beneath his fur, and another about three inches to the right of it. After a close inspection of his other shoulder, I find four more.

“Now I know why you don’t like your stable. You’re scared ain’t you pal? You think someone is gonna come in and hurt you huh?” I tell him softly, stroking his face and for the first time feeling really sorry for the poor animal. So that’s why Herb’s horses are brilliant at what they do but a nightmare in the stable. They’re being scared by pain to perform well. That’s his reputation down the drain. Because the man has such a damn good reputation, abuse being the reason for Charlie’s temper just did not cross my mind, Gemma’s neither. As soon as I’m home I plan on sending the pictures and video I took to the sheriff’s office. He’s not going to get away with that, for what he did to Charlie and because of that what Charlie then did to Gemma.

“Let’s go home shall we?” I then tell him, patting his neck and scratching his nose before letting myself out again, hitching up the ramp again and then driving off. There’s no way in hell Charlie’s home is going to be anywhere but with us now. Gemma would want it that way if she knew too. Although, Tony, Kate and Hayley (the full staff of three my wife employs) find it somewhat bemusing.

“Christian, are we having a game of where’s Charlie instead of where’s Waldo?’ Kate asks, looking very puzzled as I lead Charlie back towards the stables.

“No don’t be silly, he’s right there. It’s a game of disappearing reappearing Charlie. But seriously, what gives Christian?” Hayley asks.

“Look at the video on there, the one with today’s date. Don’t open the folder marked X, there’s stuff in there you don’t wanna see” I reply, throwing her my cell that she catches neatly.

“What, are they naked pictures of Gemma?” Kate snorts in both disgust and humour.

“Oh you fucking bet they are” I reply casually, laughing when I see the look on her face. No one is laughing after I come back from putting Charlie back in his stable though.

“He’s a fucking asshole! He needs to be tasered himself for putting an animal through that kind of pain!” Hayley rages, while Kate and Tony look sad, but understanding. Like everything has suddenly added up for them.

“All of a sudden it’s completely damn obvious why Charlie is like that. He’s terrified of the memory, one that’s probably been with him since he was first being saddled backed. I always had a lot of respect for Herb, not anymore I don’t” Tony comments bitterly, while Kate and I nod.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be notifying the sheriff’s office before I go and see Gem” I tell them, before leaving to do just that. Once I get to the hospital an hour later I explain everything to Chloe, who just sits there with her mouth agape.

“So my daughter had to suffer because he’s a scumbag of an animal abuser? She had to pay for his torture? I could kill him” she says bitterly, exhaling and inhaling loudly and deeply for a few moments before closing her eyes and composing myself.

“I’m glad you notified the police. People like him deserve to be punished” she then adds, pushing her long curly dyed red hair back from her face.

“Although we both know it’ll be some half assed punishment, a big fine and a ban on keeping livestock for a few years or something useless like that” I reply, watching her nod.

“Here’s hoping they throw the book at the bastard then! Anyway love I’m off, Sharon sent me a text and told me she’s going to try and pop in after work, so she could be here in about an hour. See you in the morning” she tells me, gathering her things and then coming around to give me a kiss and a hug before leaving, blowing Gemma a kiss from the door.

“So you heard all that about Charlie huh? Herb Britton deserves to be beaten severely for what he’s doing to those poor animals. No one would have ever been the wiser too, I mean I bet you didn’t notice the tiny scars Charlie has, and no one would unless they knew what they were looking for. You can barely see them. I’m going to tell your dad all about it in the morning see if he can help me with him and get him over his fear of being in a stable. It all adds up too babe, I’m really frustrated with myself that I didn’t notice it sooner” I tell my wife as I stroke her arm and hold her hand. Eight weeks feels like a lifetime to be sitting here waiting for her to wake up, but I’ll wait forever for her. My love for this woman knows no limits. I must have drifted off sometime soon after this, even though it is only the early evening I’m constantly tired these days. I never sleep well without Gemma next to me.

“Chris, hey, wake up” I hear a female voice tell me as I begin to wake up. Just for a few hopeful seconds I think its Gemma talking to me and gently shaking my shoulder. When I lift my head up from her bed I see its Sharon though.

“Hey sweetheart” I tell her, putting an arm around her waist and giving her a hug as I yawn.

“Hey you, how you doing?” she replies as she walks around to the other side of Gemma’s bed and gives her a kiss on the head, stroking her hair fondly before going about putting the flowers she has brought with her into water. Gemma’s favourite flowers are white gardenias and Sharon brings a fresh bouquet of them with her every few days when she visits. I think it’ a lovely gesture. Just like how my Leverage co star Beth Riesgraf sends the same flowers to her each week too. She’s only been able to come and see Gemma once because of her schedule, but she calls me all the time to check to see how she is. She and Gemma were particularly close.

“Tired, but I think you could guess that. And you?” I ask her. Sharon doesn’t get chance to reply though, because at that precise moment Gemma begins to cough. She was taken off her respirator weeks ago, but to avoid her swallowing her tongue she still has a tube down her throat which is what I am guessing is making her cough. Sharon is quick to push the button for a nurse as we both stare at Gemma in anxious disbelief. I can’t believe it, she’s waking up. Finally she’s waking up. My heart races with excitement as I keep hold of her hand and the nurse rushes in, asking me then to stand back while she removes the tube from her throat.

“Gemma, are you with us? Can you hear me?” The nurse asks, while shining a light in her eyes and checking her over.

“Mmmm, yeah” Gemma replies in a very gruff voice, not sounding like she’s quite with it yet. A few minutes of her lying still, closing her eyes for a while and then opening them again pass, before I can see her looking a little more with it. “Where am I?” she then asks, sounding confused.

“You’re in hospital Gemma, you had an accident at home two months ago and you sustained a kick to the head from one of your horses. I’m just going to let you come around a little bit more though first before we tell you what happened okay honey?” the nurse tells her kindly, before standing back from the bed and allowing me to say hello to my newly awake wife.

“Hey baby, how you feeling?” I ask her, watching her blinking before she looks at me, and then looks even more confused. What she says next are not the words I prepared myself for, let alone thought I’d hear her say. They hit me like a lump hammer straight to the chest.

“I feel okay, but erm, who are you?”
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Wed Apr 20, 2011 9:17 pm

How amazing is Chloe? I adored her pov at the beginning of this update honey - it truly shows the love and fear that a mother feels when she risks losing a child. It was all put together so beautifally that it was like being in the room with them.

Then it comes to Christian's pov - I could feel his frustrations with Charlie leaping off the page honey, you truly described it so excellently that I became emerged deeply into the drama on the screen. It was easy to see that not only was Christian scared of the horse but so is everyone else. Rightly so too. It's a liability having a horse that powerful and angry in your care - it just makes everyone on edge and then the horse no doubtedly picks up on that too; making him even more unpredictable. Definitely not good to deal with.

What a wonderful explanation of Christian taking Charlie down to the edge of the property too where he demanded the horse fuck off but it was like I could actually picture this big lump of an animal looking so bewildered and uncertain, it made me fall in love with Charlie right in that moment. And how he came back and refused to leave. Christian being the big animal lover that he is definitely wouldn't have been able to turn him away after that - which was portrayed beautifully through dialogue and description. Once again, he felt like he was being taken for a fool by an animal - that definitely made me laugh.

Then of course there was that rat bastard Herb - HOW FUCKING DARE he treat an animal that way!!!! Made me so fucking mad reading that, and the worst part is that you just know in real life there is something like that going on. Well done to Christian for snapping pictures and taking a video for evidence. I hope that Herb won't be in business for much longer. And I agree with Chloe - I hope that he gets the book thrown at him. Since I realize that torture is not an acceptable form of punishment - I'd cut that bastards bollocks off if I could. Poor Charlie, I can't imagine how afraid that poor animal must have been, and then to think of the other horses in that man's care and it doesn't even bear thinking about.

Finally; Gemma wakes up - and DAMN she doesn't remember Christian - HOW COULD SHE NOT!?! lmfao, only joking honey - you really kicked things up in this chapter - bringing all of it together, and throwing in another side story about Herb and such - beautiful work, and I am sooooooooooooooooooo eager for the next update - which is gonna be when btw? Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Eight.   Thu Apr 21, 2011 1:47 pm

Christian’s POV

“Gemma it’s me, Christian. Your husband” I tell her, while she looks at me in a very confused way. Devastated doesn’t even cover how I feel right now, the fact she’s looking right at me but doesn’t have a clue who I am.

“I’m married? What....SHARON!” she suddenly shouts as she sees her friend looking down at her with concern. “Sharon I’m really confused, who is this guy and why is he telling me we’re married? What’s going on?” she continues, sounding very distressed as she tries to sit up.

“Folks, if I can ask you both to step outside while we assess Mrs Kane, please” another nurse who has entered tells us both while ushering me from my seat. A doctor comes in quickly just as Sharon and I are leaving, all the time with me looking back at my wife and hoping she’s okay.

“Okay so she knew you, but didn’t have a clue who I was! That doesn’t make any sense” I tell Sharon as we stand outside of Gemma’s room.

“She’s confused, she only just woke up. Let’s just wait and see what the doctors have to say, everything will be fine you’ll see” Sharon tells me supportively. I nod but don’t really absorb her words, the only thing I can think is that my wife woke up and didn’t know who the hell I was, which as you can understand is very upsetting. I use this waiting time while the doctors are with her to go outside and inform her parents she’s woken up, Chloe and Emilio stating they’re on their way, and then I call my folks, my sister Jennifer and a few of our friends too, telling them all I will be able to give them more news as it comes.

“You sound like you need a buddy there dude, I’m literally just coming up to the exit I need to take to Nevada, so I’ll be there as soon as. Want me to meet you at the hospital or wait at the ranch? Whatever you want is good for me” Jensen tells me when I call him to tell him the news. I knew he was arriving back in California today after spending the last seven weeks in Arizona filming a TV short movie, but I didn’t expect him to be so willing to drop his homecoming and be here for me. That’s a damn good friend I have there.

“Just call me when you’ve entered Nevada and I’ll let you know, and thanks man. I really appreciate this” I reply.

“No problem, see you in a little while” he replies before the line clicks dead. Right now I’m so confused. Gemma instantly recognised Sharon, but not me. How can that be? I’m her husband, the man she’s spent the last ten years of her life with, the one she shares everything with, the one she calls her best friend, how can she not remember a person so close to her? The person who is the closest to her? I suppose I have that to find out once the doctor has finished checking her over.
Chloe and Emilio arrive about twenty five minutes after I call them, and the doctor asks for them to both go in to see her. I then wait, and wait, and wait, until the minutes stretch into an hour before the doctor comes back out again and tells me they are taking her down for a scan, and that myself and my in laws should wait for them him in his office. Sharon leaves, not wanting to be in the way but promises she will be back the following afternoon. We wait for a further forty minutes until the doctor comes into his office.

“Okay then, we have conducted a thorough assessment on Mrs Kane, just a preliminary one; she will have to be subjected to a lot of tests on her motor skills and speech etcetera, but all after she’s been conscious for a time longer. The contusions to her brain do appear to have affected her long term memory, this much was obvious when she woke up and recognised her friend, but not you Mr Kane. This would have been caused by the blow to the side of her head and the contusion sustained to the hippocampus, where long term memory is stored and processed.

It isn’t uncommon for someone to have this after an injury to that specific area of the brain. From asking her questions about what she last remembers she became very confused. She is not aware she is married, or that she is an established horse trainer. She had quite a shock when we informed her she was thirty two years of age, and after thinking carefully she could pinpoint most events and memories all before her twenty second birthday, meaning she has a memory gap of around ten years. She also struggled with remembering certain words and forming proper sentences, but that could just be from the coma. It is hard to keep having to tell you the same thing, but we will know more as her consciousness continues. The scans revealed her brain to be working normally again, but she will need to be on medication long term as the brain is still weak from the injury, although now the majority has healed. You may all go and visit her again now” he explains to us. Chloe and Emilio head out, but I stay to ask him a few questions.

“How could she not remember me though? I’m the closest person to her” I ask the doctor.

“Mr Kane, it isn’t just you she doesn’t remember. Her mother sat with her and told her about her life now. She had no clue where she lived, she still thought her home was an apartment she’d previously lived in, she had no recollection of the friends Mrs Alvarez sat and listed to her that she’d made in the last ten years, no idea what her occupation was, who the president was, anything. Everything from the last ten years of her life has vanished, and right now she’s very confused. Those years could come back to her, I have seen people who have suffered head trauma lose their memory entirely only for it to steadily return to them. Hope is not lost that it could return but I must warn you Mr Kane, she might never remember who you are” he replies with kindness and efficiency in equal measures. I sigh, nod and thank him before leaving to go back to Gemma’s room.

“Hey” I say, smiling when I see her sitting up and how happy her parents look that she’s awake. My heart sinks in my chest when she gives me that look, that look of total befuddlement over who I am. She almost looks through me, viewing me as a total stranger because to her that is just what I am.

“Hello” she replies politely, speaking to me like I’m a total stranger too. This all of a sudden just got too much for me.

“Listen, I don’t want it to look like I don’t care, but erm, this is really difficult for me since you don’t really have any idea who I am. I don’t want to distress you further or confuse you either, so I’m just going to leave you with your parents and erm, come see you again tomorrow. Or whenever you want me to, alright?” I ask her. That was the most awkward thing I’ve ever said to Gemma, that ease I slipped into whenever I spoke to her has just gone.

“Sure yeah, erm, that’s...sorry I can’t think of the word” she replies, looking confused. “Fine, that’s fine” she adds eventually, finding the word she was looking for. Her tone is so.....not her. It’s just too much to take in right now so after receiving sympathetic looks of support from by Chloe and Emilio I take one more look at Gemma’s blank, unrecognising face and turn and leave with tears in my eyes. She doesn’t remember me. That is going to take a hell of a lot to get used to.

Gemma’s POV

Right now how I feel is how I should feel I guess, like I’ve been in a coma for eight weeks. My head hurts which I’m told is normal and also partly because my skull is still healing from where I’ve had a metal plate fitted, I’m struggling to find my words, and everything feels very hazy. My mouth and throat feel super dry; no matter how much water I sip with my mother’s help. My co-ordination is all messed up from the injury, and injury I do not even recall receiving. A nurse just sat with me and asked me to perform a few basic tasks, like grasping which I can do, writing my name down which I can also do, and putting a small rubber ball into a cup. That bit I couldn’t do.

They left the basic tests after I had to read a few words off some cards, telling me they’d wait until tomorrow to come and conduct more. They just needed some preliminary findings to assess the damage done to my brain. God, I have brain damage. That’s scary. I know I don’t remember anything before the accident, but I do certainly know I wouldn’t have had trouble picking up a squash ball and placing it into a little tumbler glass.

“I still feel like I’m half asleep, but I want to get up and brush my teeth. My mouth feels furry” I tell my mom, watching her smile at me. I don’t remember her hair being that long at all.

“I’m on it” she says, before pulling a big black hold all onto her lap and retrieving a toothbrush and paste. “I thought it’d be a good idea to pack you a bag of stuff, all ready for when you woke up” she then informs me, before pulling a plastic bowl off the table beside my bed, and then squeezing some paste onto the brush and handing it to me. She pulls the little counter on wheels around over the bed, placing the bowl and water in front of me. I open my mouth wide, but somehow I can’t get the brush into it and end up with toothpaste all over my cheek.

“Here, let daddy to it for you dulce muchacha” my father says, wiping away the toothpaste from my cheek and putting more on the brush before popping it into my open mouth and giving my teeth a gentle clean. Mom holds the bowl under my chin so I can aim my spit out mouthful of bubbles neatly into it. If I couldn’t put a ball into a glass, can you imagine where I might spit this foam? I know there’s nothing wrong with my linguistic abilities, since I knew instantly dad just called me ‘sweet girl’ in Spanish.

“Thank you for that” I tell him once he’s finished, and I’m feeling a little fresher around the gums. Now, if only I could insert the toothbrush into my ear and have the same feeling repeated on my brain, although I think I’d probably end up poking myself in the eye right now.

“Welcome” he tells me with a warm smile, reaching out and stroking my cheek tenderly, using his other hand to thumb away a tear from his eye.

“Awwww, dad” I exclaim, sad to see him getting emotional.

“We’ve all been so worried; none of us have left you for a moment. You’ve never been alone” he tells me while I nod. Ouch, I’m not going to do that again in a hurry. Now my head hurts twice as much.

“He’s right. But it’s been Christian who’s been here the most. He didn’t leave your side for three days and nights straight after the accident” mom then tells me.

“Christian, he’s the gorgeous fella with the long brown hair that just left, right?” I ask her.

“Yes honey, that’s your husband” my mom confirms for me.

“And I don’t even remember him. God that must have been one hell of a hard kick, to knock out the memory of a man that hot” I reply. “Sorry if that was an inappropriate thing to say, he did look cut up about the fact I didn’t know who he was” I then add after my parents giggle quietly.

“Yes, I should think he was. But he’ll also understand it isn’t your fault either. He’s a very understanding man” my dad replies.

“How long have I been married to him for?” I ask.

“Eight years this year you’ve been married, altogether you’ve been with him for ten. Which explains why you can’t remember him” he replies. I frown, feeling very confused by all this. I know confused is a word I’m using a lot, but I can’t help it. Losing ten years of your life is frightening.

“Jesus, that’s a long time! I feel awful that I can’t remember him. I can’t remember anything” I reply, bewildered.

“I have something here that might help you with that honey” my mom then says, before bending to her side and retrieving a small laptop computer. “This is yours; I brought it in with me so I could play your favourite films for you. The doctor said that hearing familiar things or things that gave you enjoyment might help bring you around” she then continues, removing the stuff I was using to clean my teeth and placing the laptop on the tray in front of me. When it boots up I’m immediately presented with a picture of me and the gorgeous man I don’t remember. The sun is shining brightly behind us, surrounding in in luminous rays. He’s hugging me tight and kissing my cheek with a huge smile on his face, and I’m laughing happily. I notice I have a bottle of Jack Daniels in my hand, so I can wager I was probably quite drunk when it was taken.

“Yes, the pair of you were hammered when that picture was taken. You were on vacation down in Mexico with your sister” my dad offers, while my mom clicks on a file marked ‘pics and vids and stuff’.

“Okay, let’s see if any of this jogs your memory. I just pray to god I don’t stumble upon any rude pictures! Because of course you won’t remember if there are any!” she comments, making me laugh a little. If there’s one thing I do remember, it’s how relaxed like that my parents are. They’re like friends as well as my elders.

“Mother, please” I reply, smiling and then hiding my eyes behind my hand in embarrassment. I hope she doesn’t find anything, because she’d be right I don’t have a clue if there are any!

“And what makes you allude to the fact there might be?” I then ask a little upstarted.

“Something Bridgette told me she saw by accident on your phone once in your sent messages box” my mom replies, tonguing the side of her cheek and looking like she’s trying not to laugh.

“Okay, don’t say anything more. I don’t want embarrassment to be the memories I’m filled in on first” I reply, making them both laugh gently. I don’t need to have a memory of me obviously sending a naked picture of myself to my husband, and my mother knowing about it replanting thank you very much. No matter how cool parents are, that’s embarrassing.

“Right, since you’re so meticulous in your organisation I can flip through these pictures in a chronological way. I think these are probably the earliest you have on here” my mom tells me as she opens a file and clicks on the first photograph. It’s a picture of me, Bridgette, Ian and my ex-boyfriend Ryan. To me it only feels like we broke up last year, but of course there’s a ten year gap in the time between then. I can’t even begin to describe how weird this is.

I then look over to the next photograph, and see that this, the one before and the ones all the way through the next three pages have all been taken at Lake Tahoe. I remember the trip, and it’s nice to remember it too even though Ryan is in those memories. She clicks the page and I feel a little glum, as suddenly I see a picture of the man I should remember. I think this must have been taken right when we began dating, since he has much shorter hair and looks, well, ten years younger. To me though, I still look the way I look in the picture in my head, that’s the last age I remember. I haven’t seen my reflection yet. I hope I’ve aged well.

“All these were taken when you first started dating. You’re not going to remember the girl with the black and blue hair, and the blonde guy. They are Suze and Jensen, two of yours and Christian’s best friends” my mom tells me, providing good narratives to who people are and places the pictures were taken and when.

“Were we happy? Did we, do we have a good erm, you know the thing, the erm, marriage?” I ask her, correcting myself in the middle and then forgetting the word for betrothal completely.

“The best, you’re so in love with each other. You miss him when he’s away, which is a lot since he’s an actor and a musician” my mom begins, still clicking through the photographs. It’s around now that my headache suddenly feels worse, and the glare from the screen in front of me is causing it. Flashing up the life I don’t even know I’ve had.

“Can we call it a night with pictures please? I think I just want to go back to sleep because I feel, I feel erm, tried. No, tired” I say, my ability to speak beginning to fail me. My parents both nod, and my mom puts away the laptop again before they ask if I’m sure I just want to sleep, and then leave me to it.

“We’ll come back in a couple of hours okay baby bean?” my mom says after giving me a kiss.

“Alright” I say, stifling a yawn. I smile at them both fondly and let my eyes drift shut. That was exhausting for me. I feel so tired that I could just……….

Waking up five hours later (I checked the time before I drifted off) I look over to see my mom asleep in the chair by my bedside, and smile as I look on at her. I’m so thankful I didn’t lose the memory of her too. So far in the ten years that I’ve lost I’ve established that I live on a ranch here in Churchill county, have been married to a man named Christian Kane for eight years, that I have two extra best friends in the form of a guy named Jensen and a girl named Suze and that I have a stable yard full of horses and three dogs. Those are the basics, and what I’m sticking to right now. I need to re-establish my roots and connections with these people, although it’s very scary as they’re all complete strangers to me. Right now, I really don’t want to think of anything. I don’t think I can either as whatever painkillers I am being fed must have kicked in while I was asleep. As a result I feel very woozy. I think I need to go back to………..sleep…

My sleep isn’t like sleep though. It’s like I’m being chased by a million different pictures and scenes flashing through my head. It isn’t like a dream at first, all I can hear is strange noises and see these flashes of people’s faces who I just do not know, but they seem familiar in a strange way. Everything keeps continuing to swirl, until the images finally slow down and all of a sudden it’s like I’m transported back to memories I do not even remember having. I’m standing in the middle of the Nevada desert with that girl Suze, and we’re hugging while her boyfriend Jensen takes pictures of us. Then I’m sitting in a bar with Brittany Murphy the actress, and she’s laughing that lovely, crazy laugh she has and pouring me a drink (do I really know Brittany Murphy? Wow) from a pitcher, and telling me ‘I know I’ve said this a million times tonight but I really love that dress!’ as she smiles at me warmly.

Everything then swirls again and I’m not longer at that bar, but I’m lying in a bed in a bedroom with white and grey painted walls. I look to my side and see Christian lying there asleep. This must be a memory coming back from when we first began dating, since he has the short hair he had in the photographs I saw before going to sleep. He then stirs and opens his eyes, such a crazy bright shade of greenish blue, and he smiles at me.

“Morning baby” he says, reaching over and stroking my thigh. At that point my eyes open into reality, and I’m back in the hospital with my mom still asleep next to me in the chair. I try and try with all my might to try and make what I just dreamed about add up and make even just one grain of sense to me. But it doesn’t. Those memory flashes (if they even were, they could have just been dreams) just do not relate to anything. It’s like I just dreamt about a bunch of strangers. Even the man I’m married to is a total stranger to me. I’m not sure what is more depressing. The fact that I ended up here in the first place, or that I just cannot remember the life my memory left behind.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Sat Apr 23, 2011 3:22 pm

One thing that really springs from this update is the fact that both Christian and Gemma are miserable - I felt so sorry for both of them in this chapter. Christian because all he wants is to be there for his wife and comfort her and help her remember; but being that he is so sensitive - he walked away rather than upset her. That is the sign of true love. Sorry but I wanted to just hug him tightly. From the strength of his love it really gave the chapter that extra umph. Very Happy

Then we come to Gemma's pov and wow what a shame it is for her to not remember anything at all. It was more than obvious that she was frustrated with all of this information. Being scared was definitely strong in this update - she has all these people telling her about all the people who was in her life now but she can't remember it and it's clear that she is desperate to remember - I mean who wouldn't be, Christian Kane is her husband, and at least she hasn't lost the memories of how gorgeous he is lol. And now she can't even sleep to relax - her dreams clearly making it more confusing for her and all I wanted was to hug her, I feel so bad for her. I have no doubt that you are going to make this all work out fine, but I can't wait to read more Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Nine.   Sat Apr 23, 2011 3:56 pm

Jensen’s POV

To say I’m relieved that Gemma has woken up would be an understatement. I’m fucking over the moon that she’s awake and talking. But, sadness was cast over me the minute Christian told me that she didn’t have a clue who he was. Immediately I put myself in his shoes and considered how it’d feel for me if Suze got an injury to her head severe enough to knock out her long term memory. The thought filled me with dread, so I just cannot even imagine how my boy feels right now. He sounded so cut up on the phone, pleased she was awake yes, but devastated that she didn’t recognise him to be her husband. Who could blame him huh?

I called Suze to tell her the news just after I called Christian back to tell him I was roughly forty five minutes away from Churchill County, when he told me to come straight to the ranch and meet him there. She was elated her friend had woken up. We only got to see Gemma that one time right after her accident, since I had to head straight out to work on the project I’ve just wrapped up filming, and Suze is still out in South Africa on location of a big budget action film. She won’t get home for about two or three weeks, and then they’ll still be filming the movie at a sound stage up in LA.
I got the time difference just right when I called her; she was just getting her morning coffee on the set and complaining her ass off about the heat. My lady doesn’t like the hot weather at all. She’s much more of a winter gal.

“What else doesn’t she remember then? Is it her whole memory before the accident? Does she even know who she is?” the future Mrs Ackles asked me. We will get married one day, perhaps when we’re on the same continent for longer than a fortnight!

“I don’t know all the ins and outs of it yet mamma; he was too distressed that she didn’t know who he was to go into any kind of detail. I’ll call you as soon as I have some more info though, I promise” I told her in reply. Stopping my car at the gates to the ranch I get out and swing them open, closing them again once I’ve parked up and heading straight into the house. I always let myself in; it’s just the way it’s always been. Even though in the past I’ve fallen foul of that and caught my two friends going at it in the kitchen or whatever. I’ve learned to shout ‘HELLO’ from the door now just in case. I think it’s safe to say I’m not about to encounter that this evening. When I enter the lounge I find Chris sitting in his big old battered leather armchair, with Hooch lying across his lap. Next to the dog is a wireless keyboard since the PC is hooked up to the TV screen. Gemma’s an internet nerd.

“Hey bro” I say as I take a seat on the couch.

“Hey, how was your drive?” He asks me, while I notice what he’s been reading up on the TV screen.

“It was good. I’d ask how you are but damn, I can see it written all over your face. The particular web page you have kind of gives away what you have on your mind too. I’m really fucking sorry dude, really. What else doesn’t she remember?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I just wanted to learn more about long term memory loss and how it can be overcome. If it can be overcome, that is. As for what she’s lost, try the last ten years of her life. She doesn’t know she lives here, she doesn’t know who you and Suze are, what she does for a living, anything. She last remembers being twenty two years old, nothing after that” he replies, taking a sip out of the glass he’s holding. I look over at the table and see he’s a quarter of the way into the bottle of Jack that’s sitting there. It’s sad to learn she doesn’t know who Suze or I are either, but I put that aside because right now it isn’t about how I feel. That doesn’t even come into it.

“Well then I’m just going to sit here and read it with you, and help you with that bourbon you have over there” I reply with a smile, watching him pick up the bottle and pass it to me.

“Thanks for this” he tells me, smiling briefly before his eyes fall back to the screen.

“Anytime” I call over my shoulder as I turn and head towards the large cabinet over the other side of the lounge and fetch a glass. When I get back, I pour myself a drink and then sit back and read the following information on what Gemma is presently dealing with –

Long-term memory (LTM) is memory that can last as little as a few days or as long as decades. It differs structurally and functionally from working memory or short-term memory, which ostensibly stores items for only around 20–30 seconds. Biologically, short-term memory is a temporary potentiation of neural connections that can become long-term memory through the process of rehearsal and meaningful association. Much is not known about the underlying biological mechanisms of long-term memory, but the process of long-term potentiation, which involves a physical change in the structure of neurons, has been proposed as the mechanism by which short-term memories move into long-term storage.
The time scale involved at each level of memory processing remains under investigation. As long-term memory is subject to fading in the natural forgetting process, several recalls/retrievals of memory may be needed for long-term memories to last for years, dependent also on the depth of processing. Individual retrievals can take place in increasing intervals in accordance with the principle of spaced repetition. This can happen quite naturally through reflection or deliberate recall (also known as recapitulation), often dependent on the perceived importance of the material.

We then go on to read the following page of information –

Memory loss (amnesia) is unusual forgetfulness. It may refer to not being able to remember new events, not being able to recall one or more memories of the past, or both. The cause determines whether amnesia comes on slowly or suddenly, and whether it is temporary or permanent. Normal aging may lead to trouble learning new material or requiring a longer time to remember learned material. However, it does not lead to dramatic memory loss unless diseases are involved. Memory loss can be seen with impaired concentration, such as with depression. It can be hard to tell the difference.

There are many areas of the brain that help you create and retrieve memories. Damage or malfunction of any of these areas can lead to memory loss. Memory loss due to problems with specific brain areas may be different. It may involve only memory of recent or new events, passed or remote events, or both. the amnesia may be only for specific events or for all events. The problem may involve learning new information or forming new memories.

Mental or thinking abilities may still be present or may have been lost. Filling in the details with imagined events (confabulation), and disorientation to time and place may occur. Memory loss may be for words and thoughts only, or for motor memory (the body can no longer perform specific actions). Memory loss may also be partial, meaning failing to remember only a selected group of items. Memory loss may be short-term (called transient).

“So apart from not remembering the past ten years, did the injuries cause anything else?” I ask Christian after we’ve been quietly reading for a time. Before he answers, he shuts the browser and switches the computer off and then turns the screen back to the TV signal.

“According to her dad she has problems with her co-ordination. She couldn’t find her own mouth to clean her teeth earlier, and she can’t remember some words. She’ll talk and then suddenly stop because she can’t think of the word she needs. She can still lift and grasp things which is a good sign, and she can write too. I just wish she hadn’t lost such a massive chunk of her life. She always called her twenties the happiest time in her whole life, and now she’s lost it all” he replies while scratching Hooch’s head.

“Can she overcome those do you know?” I then ask him.

“Apparently so, which is another piece of good news I got from Emilio when he got in, after he’d spoken with the doctor again before he’d left. It’ll take some time though. The bad news is what the doctor told me before I left, and that’s that she may never recover her memories from the last ten years” he says, his words followed by a long sigh. “I can’t imagine what it must be like for her. It’s bad enough for me, but for her? Damn. I can’t even comfort her over it either because all I am is a stranger!” he then adds, laughing with frustration as he shakes his head.

“I think its good you’re seeing all the positives instead of just dwelling on the negatives. The right way forward is to make the best out of such a bad situation. And look, I’m off work now until May so I’ll help you in any way I can in the time between. I think if we surround Gemma with everything that’s been familiar over the last ten years it might help, she could start remembering what she’s lost” I tell Christian, watching him nodding like he’s been thinking the same thing.

“I was going to root around in her junk closet tomorrow and get out all her photo albums and the discs she copied all of her video camera footage onto, and pull out her old diaries too. I always used to rip it out of her that she’d sit writing everything she did in a journal, but now I’m glad she did” he replies.

“Yeah, those might be the very thing she needs to jog her memory, reading things she’s written herself. Good idea man” I say with a smile.

“Fuck! I almost forgot to tell you, as well as Gemma waking up yesterday held other big news. I got to the bottom of what the problem with Charlie is, and why he’s so bad tempered in his stable. Turns out he isn’t just a temperamental little asshole, he’s fucking terrified of being in his stable and with damn good reason” he suddenly exclaims and then explains in reply. I pull a curious face of questioning and he goes on to tell me about him taking Charlie back to the guy he brought him off, and what he saw when he was there. I feel my jaw swing open instantly when I hear the words ‘...and then they shot a taser at the poor animal, and down he went squealing in agony’.

“Come with me, I’ll show you the marks he has on him. I gotta go down there and check they’re all okay anyway” Christian then replies, before we head to the door to get our boots on and then straight down to the yard, my friend picking up a small packet of peppermints on his way. When we get there I pull open the big double doors that slide across the entrance to the indoor stable block, and after Christian turns the lights on we head in and straight down to the fifth stable on the left where Charlie is.

“Hey dude, hey” he greets the pissed off looking chestnut horse with, taking his halter from the hook outside his box and going in, dodging a bite for his arm and telling him ‘NO’ firmly but not shouting at him, and then giving him a big pat on the neck when he stands still and doesn’t try to be naughty again once his halter is on. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the packet of mints. As soon as he hears the rustling sound Charlie is on high alert, his ears pricked forward and his eyes wide as he sniffs at the packet and then eats the two mints Christian has in his palm.

“You’re a good boy, yes you are” he tells him, scratching him just beneath the eye and then giving his ears a rub. Charlie stands there eating the mints happily, but still seems a little cautious. Poor thing is probably wondering when the taser is about to be produced. “I think I need to work really hard trying to reprogram his brain into thinking his stable is a happy place where he gets treats and gets petted and told he’s good. See look, the minute I stop scratching him he gets suspicious” he then adds, while Charlie begins to shake his head and flatten his ears.

He then tries to bite again. This time it’s aimed at me though, since I’m lurking in the doorway to his stable and I suspect he’s wondering what I’m doing there. The poor fucker probably thinks I’m the one about to zap him with a taser. So I venture in and stoke his face, letting him sniff me carefully and get used to me a little. I feel a big knot of sadness in my chest when I look into his eyes. You can see the fear right there looking straight back at you.

“Sounds like a good plan to me” I reply before he goes on to show me the marks he has on his shoulders. And he was totally right when he said before that you just wouldn’t notice them unless you were specifically looking for them. They could pass for anything too, like puncture wounds from barbed wire on paddock fences (I know one of Gemma’s horses had a penchant for scratching himself against it and ended up with half his mane missing as well as little dots of wounds on his neck) so if anyone did notice them, the man who inflicted the awful punishment would just be able to pass the scars off for something else. We leave him in peace shortly after this and quickly check the others before heading back up to the house. One way or another, I hope that one day not so far away both Charlie and Gemma will overcome what’s happened to them. With Christian in their corner it’s bound to happen though.

Christian’s POV

“Do you mind if I throw a load of clothes in the machine? I think what I’m wearing is about all I have clean” Jensen tells me, after we’ve been sitting watching a movie into the small hours of the night.

“Go for it man, I’m heading off to bed now so see you in the morning. You know where the detergent and all that crap is right?” I reply as I get up out of my chair and stretch.

“Cupboard next to the shelves in the utility room, and g’nite bro” he replies, while I turn and make my way out of the lounge, through the kitchen and then into the hallway and up the stairs. When I enter our bedroom I look over at Gemma’s junk closet, where she keeps everything she’s hoarded throughout her life (man, my wife is the world’s worst for hoarding) and decide to begin digging around in there now, since I want to get up to the hospital and see her first thing when Emilio goes to fetch Chloe. Before I begin searching through I pull my cell from my pocket and notice I have a text message from Bridgette, sent about three hours ago.

“Hey Chris, I’m showing a few clients around the lake house close to you in the morning, so tell Gem I’ll drive straight from that appointment to come and see her. So sorry about the news that she doesn’t remember you, but she can’t forget a man so wonderful forever, no way. See you tomorrow xxx” it reads.

“I hope she doesn’t forget me forever” I say out loud, before throwing my cell over onto the bed and then entering the junk closet. There are piles of old magazines pertaining to either horses or guitars stacked up right in front of me in the shelves, then there are jars of all of the jewellery she used to wear as a teenager but since her style has changed she’ll never wear again. She’s keeping all of that to pass on if we ever conceive a daughter, or to give to a granddaughter if all we manage to produce are boys. That’s another thing that kicks me straight in the guts right there too, the fact that our plans to try for a baby have been halted indefinitely. I can’t and don’t imagine that our marriage will go back to exactly how it was before when she doesn’t know who I am. That’d be a very unrealistic and unfair expectation.

“Honey, you’re never going to use any of these again. They’ve all gone funny now anyway” I say, speaking to Gemma like she’s right here when I find a bag of old bottles of nail polish, all the contents separated from the paint and the chemicals that prevent them from hardening in the bottles, and basically useless. I find an old cardboard box with a few magazines not filled properly, empty it, file the magazines and then use it as a place to throw things away. The out of date bottles of nail varnish go in first. God, she really does like to hang onto some useless crap. Including a bag of old broken candles she’s kept, insisting to me she’ll one day melt them down and pour them into jars to make new ones. She’s been saying that for four years now. Into the garbage box they go.

The next thing I find as I try in vain to get past the clutter to where the photo albums are kept is a top Gemma lost over a year ago. It’s just a green Gap hoodie that’s been chewed by Mack on one of the sleeves, but it was always her favourite thing to wear to chill out around the house in. I throw that behind me and hope it lands somewhere near the pile of my washing I sorted out this morning, but still haven’t done. It’s a shame she won’t remember how much she wanted to find it. I do wonder how it got tossed in here in the first place though. After rooting through a bit more junk and throwing away the things she’s never going to use again (like the now solidified oil paints from her unsuccessful attempt at painting) I finally clear enough space to be able to stand and pull out all the photo albums from the top shelf.

There are ten in total (yes, Gemma is a total shutter bug), but I only take a couple. Mainly the ones I know she hasn’t had time to scan onto her laptop yet, and since that is there with her at the hospital it’d be pointless to take albums containing those pictures. Emilio told me he and Chloe had been showing her the photographs before they left her to sleep. The ones in particular I want her to see are those from the day we got married. I know she isn’t going to remember me straight away, if at all. You can’t blame me for wanting to help that along a little.

Leaning against the door frame of the closet I look through the album, smiling at each picture my eyes land on. Gemma has always hated posed for wedding photographs, so everything here is a candid shot. They look so much better too, natural and less forced. She wore a deep purple coloured dress, practically eggplant it was so dark. Everything matched that too, her bridesmaids, mine and my boys’ shirts, the flowers etc… We married up on the edge of Lake Tahoe, and thank god the sun stayed out for long enough for that to actually happen, since it began to pour with rain very soon afterwards. I remember Bridgette wore heels so high and pointy she kept sinking into the grass, so Ian had to pick her up and run with her over his shoulder to the shelter of the cars. Gemma nearly died laughing, and so did everyone else. The sound of Bridgette’s scream could probably be heard over on the other side of the lake it was that loud.

It was such a good day, our friends made it even more wonderful though. Just being who they were, why Gemma and I call them the whack pack was what really topped the day off. Since we wanted to remember it well the wife and I remained remarkably sober throughout the night, while we watched the craziness circle the whole venue for the reception. Suze and Sharon decided to dance on their table; with Gemma’s cousins’ kids looking up their skirts the entire time until their mother dragged them away and gave them both a cuff around the ear. That was particularly entertaining.

Another instance of something particularly entertaining was Dave getting my sister completely hammered by challenging her to drinking games she kept on losing, and so was the aftermath when he started messing with her even more by secretly switching her drinks around with everyone else’s at the table they were sat at when she wasn’t looking. One minute she’d have a glass of champagne, then bourbon and soda, then a vodka rocks. Don’t ever, ever, ever get drunk around David Boreanaz. He will fuck with your head for his own entertainment. He made me think the apocalypse was coming once. I’m not kidding, he’s too smart and when you’re drunk and he isn’t he has that unfair advantage. I was worried as hell and completely freaking until I shut my eyes and passed out.

The best thing wasn’t something funny though, it was getting to see Gemma and her grandfather together. For everyone knew this would be Ernesto’s final trip to the United States, he’d been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and only had five months to live. Looking at the picture of him and Gemma dancing together I feel tears well up in my eyes. He was such a great man, so proud and noble. Also, the memory invokes what he told both of us just before I took the picture.

“I go to my grave with joy in my heart that I got to see my youngest granddaughter marry. When the lord calls me, I will be ready now” he said. It made us both cry at the time, I mean what a beautiful thing to say huh? Whenever my working schedule allows it we always go to Mexico to celebrate Day of the Dead on November the 2nd. We try to go every year, and visit the grave Ernesto was placed into with his wife, Consuela. We do the traditional thing of dressing the grave in flowers, beads, sugar skulls and candles. Gemma burns incense and leaves a little box oatmeal cookies, the same ones Ernesto taught her to make when she was a child. We always leave a photograph of us there too, so they know that just as they are always with us, we are always with them too.

Our wedding was the last time either of us saw him. Sadly, he died suddenly three months later before we got chance to go down to Mexico for a final goodbye. It was wonderful to spend that last time at our wedding with him though. He’s who I eventually sat next to and didn’t move from all night, just listening to him talk. He gave me the most excellent tips for a happy and long marriage.

“This could be deemed inappropriate since I am Gemma’s grandfather, but I’m talking to you man to man here Christian. Don’t ever go to bed angry, and if you do, have sex until it’s out of your system. Don’t get boring just because she’s your wife now. You have a duty to remind her she’s the most immensely beautiful woman you’ve ever seen on a daily basis. If you get my drift” he’d said causally before sipping his beer and looking on as I nearly died laughing in my seat.

“I’ll bear that in mind” I said, before bursting into hysterics all over again. Jensen (who was sat at the table with us) was actually crying with laughter, tears streaming down his face as he repeatedly banged his hand off the table. He loved Ernesto just as much as I did, and he’d only met him for the first time that night. Later, when it was just me and Gemma our wedding night didn’t go how you might expect though, bearing in mind what I’d been told by Ernesto. All we did as soon as we got upstairs to our room at the hotel was talk.

We sat out on the balcony talking until 6am, watching the sun come up and eating breakfast before then deciding to go to bed. We didn’t sleep though, not until the early afternoon. It’ll always be the happiest day of my life, and the years I’ve spent with her have been the best too. I just wish she hadn’t had that much happiness erased from her mind, because we’ve made some wonderful memories together, Gemma and me.

It’s then that a sudden horrible thought hits me. If she can’t remember me at all, who’s to say she’s even going to want to stay with me? To her, we never met. I’m standing here presuming that I can help her remember what we had without even knowing if that is what she wants or not. It’s a this point that I put the photo album back, close the door to the closet behind me and then switch off the light and throw myself down on the bed. I lie staring at the ceiling, with that sudden horrible realization I just had going around and around in my head.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Sat Apr 23, 2011 5:16 pm

Poor Christian - he really is down in the dumbs, rightly so too. All those precious memories of their life together - gone because that bastard who had owned Charlie before had made him so scared of humans that he hurt Gemma. Good for Christian standing up for him though, I like how he had figured out how to teach Charlie the basics of being in the stable - patience, love and affection. I think that Charlie will become a very beautiful and loyal horse once Christian is done with him.

I enjoyed reading about the memories that Christian remembered when rooting through Gemma's stuff - the thoughts of their wedding, which was nicely detailed with the little interlude of Bridgette getting her foot stuck in the grass and being hoisted over Ian's shoulders to get to the car. And Grandpa - awe he seemed like a sweet man and evidently he loved and adored his granddaughter. Jensen sitting at the table with tears running down his face with laughter - that was very vivid when reading. Very Happy I love the sound of his laugh.

It was a nice change to see Jensen's POV - showing that it isn't only Christian who wants and wishes for Gemma to get better - she is loved by everyone in her life and her friends are all anxious to help in anyway that they can. I look forward to the next installment Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Ten.   Sun Apr 24, 2011 2:01 pm

Gemma’s POV

“Honey, are you okay?” Are the first things I hear when I wake up suddenly, opening my eyes properly to see my mom looking down at me with concern. “I think you had a nightmare, you were mumbling and groaning in your sleep and sounded scared” she then continues as she strokes my head.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine now. I think I dreamt of something but I just cannot remember what. All these flashes, but I can’t remember them properly” I tell her as I lay back against the pillows. I really have no clue who and what I dreamt about last night, but I know I did dream because I have that sort of ‘dream hangover’ fog clouding my head still. And my head hurts, boy does it hurt today. I’ve been told that even though the bruising (or contusions as the doctors fancily refer to them as) to my brain has almost all healed the plate they had to repair my skull with will cause pain for a while yet, as my body gets used to the fact it’s supposed to be there. I still haven’t even seen my reflection. I’ve been told I have a wonky L shaped scar on my head, and that it’ll fade in time too. I don’t want to see it yet though.

“Well, try not to force yourself to remember them. Do you want me to call you a nurse in to sort out your pain?” she then asks me.

“Yes please, and can you help me drink a glass of water please?” I then ask. Mom nods and pours me some water into a cup from the jug on the table beside me, and then holds the straw to my lips to I can have a few grateful gulps before she presses the button for the nurses’ assistance. After giving me something for the pain and checking me over she tells me the therapist will be along in about an hour at 9am to give me a thorough assessment of my motor skills and co-ordination, and then leaves. Once she’s gone mom and I go through the routine of her brushing my teeth for me, and then I have a little try at brushing my hair myself. When I implant the brush right into my ear twice and then almost hit my forehead wound my mom gently takes the brush and does it for me.

“I can’t even do the simplest of things for myself. How pathetic” I mutter in a small voice, feeling tears fill my eyes.

“Gem, don’t cry honey. You’ve been through one hell of a bad accident and you’re not pathetic because of it. The doctor told you this is something you will recover from; you will be able to do all these things again. You just have to practice, and your therapist will help you too so try not to be so sad. Or call yourself pathetic when this is something you just cannot help” my mom tells me supportively, setting the brush down and giving me a hug. I lean into her with a sigh, curling my hands around her arms and holding her tightly. I’m a thirty two year old woman and I feel as lost and scared as a child, and just like a child I can’t do things for myself either. I hate it.

“I know, I’m just frustrated at it. It feels horrible not being able to do some of the simplest tasks I’d have taken for granted before the accident. Then there’s the fact I just do not know my life before it either. Why me mom? Why the hell did this have to happen to me? You used to tell me everything happened for a reason but I don’t see any reasons for having my life taken away from me like this!” I reply through my sobs, which eventually give way to a huge crying fit as I break down completely in my mothers’ arms.

“I don’t know baby bean, I’m not even going to try and work that out either. You don’t deserve it, but I guess that’s just the cruelness of life. We have to take the rough to appreciate the smooth, don’t we? And I know sweetheart, I know it must be the hardest damn thing in the world right now, not remembering your life from twenty two years old until now. But you have the best, the very best support system around you. Although you might only remember three of them, you have these wonderful friends, and a loving husband to see you through this. Then there’s us, your family. We’re all going to get you through this Gemma, I know you must feel so alone right now but you’re not my love, we’re all here with you” she tells me as I sniff and cry, not even able to coordinate myself to wipe my eyes properly. I keep dabbing at my chin so this is yet another task mom has to do for me.

“I know, I know that even though I don’t remember those people they remember me. And I thank you all for being so devoted to me, like none of you ever leaving me here on my own even though I was in a coma. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve all already done. I just feel like I’m going to be a further massive burden on you all” I reply, composing myself a little.

“You’re not a burden, and even if you were you’d be a very welcome one” she tells me, drying my eyes further and smiling kindly. Just at that moment the doctor comes in to check me over and then inform me I have to go through a small procedure to have the tube that has been feeding me removed from my stomach. So I have to be slightly sedated and given a local anaesthetic and taken down to theatre to have it removed endoscopically (since that is apparently how it was fitted) and thus have my therapy session pushed back by half an hour. It only takes fifteen minutes to remove it and then I’m transported back up to my room, where my mom is waiting for me with a few food items on the tray that goes over my bed once they’ve wheeled me in.

“They just brought this in for you, they said just to get you used to eating solid food again they’ll only feed you small, regular portions of food. I chose the two things I knew you’d like best” she tells me, while I sit and sigh. I’m going to have to be spoon fed the small tub of hazelnut yogurt and banana like a baby. It’s so degrading, and I feel like I’m putting my mother out with her doing everything for me. She takes it all in her stride though, and is there to dry my eyes once more when I cry over the embarrassment I feel at having to be spoon fed. By the time my therapist arrives with a little knock at the door I’ve finished eating and stopped crying again.

“Good morning, I’m Calvin Connor, your coordination and reflex therapist. Do you prefer Mrs Kane, or can I address you as Gemma?” he says politely as he comes in and closes the door. The first two things I notice about him are how softly spoken he is, and at his large size how much he reminds me of a big cuddly bear. He has such a warm and friendly face too.

“Gemma will be fine” I reply. It’s going to take a lot of getting used to, being called Mrs Kane when up in my head I’m still Miss Alvarez.

“Okay Gemma, lovely to meet you. Let’s see how you do with a handshake” he says, offering his hand forward for me. I reach out, thinking this’ll be easy, but I just can’t seem to get my hand to go where I want it to. I can hold my hand out in front of me, but I can’t manage to move it the six inches to the right I need to in order to meet his hand. “Not to worry that you couldn’t get your hand to mine Gemma, that was an excellent attempt. Some trauma patients I’ve worked with haven’t even been able to lift their arm up, let alone get it even half way in the direction it should be. Okay, next I want you to leave your arm out like that, and now bring your hand back and try to touch your index finger to the tip of your nose” he tells me, getting into his work with no fussing which I like. I almost poke myself in the eye when I try to locate my nose.

“Again, not a bad attempt at all. One patient I had do this for me kept touching her nipple! Oooh how rude!” he then says, making me laugh heartily and picking up on observation number three. He’s clearly gay. He has way too much sparkle to be a straight man, and I love gay guys because they’re so entertaining so I know I’ll get along well with him for sure.

“Okay, the next thing I’d like you to do is hold your arms apart either side of you, yes that’s right” he begins, correcting my pose a little and bringing my arms a little further together. “Now I want you to bring them together to make your palms meet” he then finishes, and I do as instructed and actually manage to accomplish it. When he asks the same task be repeated but this time just make my index fingers tough I miss and mess up though. Over the next hour Calvin puts me through all manner of different tests, even helping me out of bed and onto my feet to see how my balance is.

I hold onto one of his big arms tightly as I stand for the first time, and he supports me until I feel steady enough on my feet to stand alone. Then with his assistance I give walking a little try. He then tests how my balance is, by making me walk normally in a straight like towards my mother (while he holds my arm along the way in case I fall) which is something I can do. Then I walk to her with one foot in front of the other in a dead straight line, something else which I can do. Then he tests me standing on one foot and then the other. Back in my bed he brings the counter around and picks up a small box that I see contains children’s wooden building blocks.

“Okay with these what I’d like you to do is choose me three red ones, two blue ones and five green ones from inside the tub firstly” he asks me. I then pick out all the items correctly, and once again he sits and makes notes.

“Now I’d like you to have a little go at stacking one on top of the other” he then asks, which I try to do but really struggle with it.

“I’m beginning to see a pattern in these tests. Mostly it looks as if your hand and eye coordination is what has been affected most. I also read here further back in your notes that you had problems searching for words, but I must say your speech has been nothing but perfect this morning. That could have been and probably was just your confusion at coming round from the coma. If your speech had been affected that notably I would have picked up on something already, so we can rule that out Gemma” he tells me with a smile. After that we move onto some different tasks, with him producing two stacks of cards. He tells me he’s leaving the blocks with me as they are good practice for improving my hand/eye coordination skills.

“Alright then, these cards here all contain faces of very recognizable people, so I shall hold each of them up and simply want you to tell me who it is” he begins, before holding the first card up.

“Martin Luther King Junior” I state.

“Correct” he replies. And on it continues.

“Marilyn Monroe”


“Audrey Hepburn”


“Bill Clinton”

“Correct again! Good job Gemma keep it up!” he tells me enthusiastically. We get to the end of the picture cards, and he then rummages in the box of stuff he brought with him and produces more cards. These all have words on them that I’m tested on. Abacus, theory, kettle, chimney, passing, willow, conversion, photography, because and through are just a few of the randomly chosen words. I recognise all of them with no trouble. He then hands me a little notebook and pen and asks me to write them all down. This is another thing I can do without a problem. I don’t understand how though. How can I sit and write things when I can’t even clean my own teeth.

“It’s your perceptions and coordination. If something is in front of you and flat, your mind is recognising it is a flat surface, like the paper you just wrote down those words on. But your mind is fooling you with things that use your coordination to different degrees, like stacking and touching points on your own body or in the distance. It’s very hard to explain it all, how one part of your brain can fire off these signals, and how some can be fine still within that damaged area of the brain but others not working so well. You really have achieved a whole lot this morning though Gemma, you should be very proud of yourself because I’m proud of you!” he tells me, all enthusiasm and smiles at the end of his explanation.

“Me too” says my mom, smiling at me with genuine pride.

“Our next session will be tomorrow morning; in the meantime I want you to keep on practising a few things for me. I want you to try to stack those blocks on top of the other. I’m going to leave you this little squash ball too and see if you can have a little go at putting it into a plastic cup since that was something you struggled with both today and yesterday. Not too much though, no more than twenty minutes at a time since we’ve really worked you hard this morning. We will venture further into our therapy though; you will be seeing a nice lady called Kirsty Carpenter a little later on today, and she will be helping you with exercises and techniques to perhaps recover your memories. Until tomorrow, Gemma” he tells me before he gathers his things and leaves. Only five or so minutes pass before I have two more visitors, in the shape of Jensen and my husband.

“Hey beautiful” Jensen says to me when he comes in, giving me a big smile. He looks so relieved; we really must be close friends. “I know you don’t remember me, but can I come and give you a hug?” he then asks me somewhat shyly.

“Of course you can” I tell him, holding my arms wide. He hugs me and kisses my cheek, and then moves to greet my mom warmly. “Come here my gorgeous British babe!” he tells her as she laughs joyously. He’s a charmer, that one. That much is obvious.

“Am I allowed to give you the same?” Christian then asks me, hovering at the edge of the bed. “I don’t wanna be too forward, since you don’t remember me as the man you’re married to. Or at all for that matter” he then continues.

“That’s fine, thank you for being so understanding. It does go both ways though, even if I don’t remember you, you remember me and I in turn understand that, how difficult this must have been for you” I reply as I hug him. After we’ve parted again I notice my mother and Jensen exchanging looks.

“We’ll leave you two to it. I’m gonna take your beautiful mamma for a coffee while you two talk” Jensen tells us, taking my mom’s hand in his and leading her out.

“Just so you know I don’t expect us to go back to the way we were. That’d be unfair since you don’t have a clue who I am. So I’ll continue not to be too forward or overly affectionate” he tells me as soon as the door is closed.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that, the fact you understand how confusing this is for me. I hate that I don’t remember you, because so far you seem like such a great guy, and I know how weird this all must be for you. The woman you’ve been with for the last decade is sitting here talking to you like she’s only just met you. Must be tough” I tell him, watching him nod a little before frowning slightly.

“You’re the only person who matters here, not me” he tells me kindly.

“No, you matter too!” I tell him firmly. “I’m not going to be the woman you remember for a while, but I’d like to find my way back to being her” I then add. He just smiles again before moving the conversation on.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks kindly.

“I had a bad headache earlier, but it’s worn off a little now. Which doesn’t make sense since I just had my first therapy session, and it was pretty tasking” I reply.

“How did that go?” he asks me with honest interest. Wow, he really looks at you intently when you’re talking to him. I guess this is just one of the many things I’m about to find out as I get to know him all over again.

“It went well in some parts, not so well in others. Basically, I can write and recognise famous faces and different words. My speech has come back properly just in case you hadn’t noticed, that was just a circumstance of coming out of a coma. My balance is fine too; it’s just my hand/eye coordination that’s all out of sync. I can’t really do anything for myself which is a fucking pain. I have to learn how to all over again, retrain myself to. The doctor told me this morning I’ll be put on medicine that’ll further help it, as well as everything else I’ll be taking. It’s a whole lot. Sorry, am I talking too much?” I reply, suddenly wondering if I’m going on a little at the end.

“No. You talking to me is what I’ve missed most, so you just keep on talking” he tells me with a smile, resting his hand on my forearm reassuringly for a moment. It makes me shudder just a tiny bit, for it makes me feel something very familiar for a moment.

“Are you okay?” he then asks me, taking his hand away.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, I dunno, I felt something familiar when you put my hand on my arm. Not a memory, but it just felt, well, familiar. Did you used to touch my arm like that a lot?” I ask him.

“To be fair I used to touch all of you a lot” he replies, making me laugh.

“What happened to not being too forward?” I ask, only half seriously.

“That wasn’t too forward. That was a joke” he replies with a smile, and then a wink. Damn he’s cute.

“Stop” I mutter, looking away from him and shaking my head. I wish I could cover my cheeks with my hands, as I think they’re going pink. I then continue to tell him about my therapy session and all about Calvin and the moment passes. Yet when he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, as soon as he’s out the door I sink down in my bed, triumphantly manage to pull the blanket over my head while thinking to myself ‘oh my god. I’ve had sex with him!’ Yes, I know, I’m silly. But I have had a knock to the head recently. As I’ve stated before, I had to have had to forget someone as gorgeous as him.
It’s still so weird though, as realize as I come back out from under the sheet. So strange to think of everything I shared with that gorgeous man and just do not remember. I really, really want to remember though. But first, I actually want to get to know him all over again. This is something I voice to him as soon as he’s back from the restroom.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, because I had begun to wonder to myself last night if that was what you’d automatically want or not” he replies, while I frown slightly at him.
“Why would you think that?” I ask him, a little puzzled.

“Well because you just don’t remember me. Who’s to say being married to me is even something you want since you don’t remember it at all” he replies with a little shrug.

“I think you’ve been looking into it a little too much Christian. I don’t want something different; I want my life back to how it was. To how happy I apparently was. That equation very much includes the man I married. I just need to get to know him all over again” I reply, watching him smile widely at me, a smile that reaches those gorgeous eyes of his.

“I’d really like to begin that getting to know you process as quickly as possible, but right now I.......I’m afraid I couldn’t begin to give you my full attention. I’ve just had a massive wave of tiredness.........hit me” I then tell him, pausing a couple of times to yawn. I’ve been told feeling sleepy is going to be a natural part of my recovery.

“There’s absolutely no rush at all. Let’s just concentrate on getting you well enough to leave this place and come home first. Tell you what, I’m going to go and find your mom and Jensen and leave you to sleep for a few hours” he tells me, getting up and planting a kiss on my forehead. “Was that okay, or too much?” he then asks.

“A kiss on the forehead could never be too much. Will you come back and see me tonight?” I ask him.

“You can count on it. Later” he tells me with a wink and a wave before he leaves. He’s gorgeous, understanding, and very considerate. If only I could remember what a lucky girl I am to have him.

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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Sun Apr 24, 2011 8:12 pm

Everything is so detailed and going in the only direction that it could go. You make this world so detailed and wonderful. I can imagine the frustration that Gemma is feeling at being mothered all over again as if she were a baby and just didn't have the coordination that she should have. Being that she was clearly so independent before the accident. You detailed all of that very carefully and realistically. Gotta love Chloe too - she comes across as a natural mother, and I bet she is the kind of woman, that all of Gemma's friends feel like they can talk too.

Then came the therapist and all the rigarous(SP) tests that were carried out with Gemma, you detailed that in the perfect way of not complicating it by medical scripture. Layman's terms - beautifully done and demonstrated with the explanation of how it is Gemma's eye/hand coordination that is the problem. I am glad to hear that it isn't something more than that. It's just a pity that she has to endure those awful headaches. I hope that they won't bother her too long, but it was definitely needed for the entire thing to be realistic.

Then comes Christian and Jensen - how sweet is Jensen asking if it's ok to hug her. What a proper gentleman; I'm one lucky girl lol. Razz And talk about as subtle as a brick when he announces that he'd take Chloe for some coffee. And then Christian, how amazing is this man? Not only does he reassure her that it will all go at her pace, but he manages to make her smile too - brilliant chemistry between the 2 of them. I also loved the fact that Gemma also reassures him that she wants back her marriage and him, but it will take time - again this is the only way to make this as realisitic as possible. Wonderful, wonderful job honey - you just draw me in and with the way I have been feeling lately, this is definitely an awesome escape that I desperately need xoxoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Eleven.   Thu Apr 28, 2011 2:30 pm

Christian’s POV

“Damnit! I almost had it there!” Gemma shouts in annoyance one morning in her therapy session, two weeks after she woke up from her coma. In those two weeks she’s really begun to improve.

“Almost had it? Lady you got your finger to your nose there! Okay so it wasn’t the tip of your nose as I asked, but it was much closer than any previous attempts. Well done!” Calvin immediately praises her with, just like he’s always quick to do. He certainly found his niche doing this job for a living. His naturally kind and considerate attitude make him perfect for it. He also has patience in abundance. She really has been doing very well though. Yesterday, she managed to eat something herself for the first time, and brush her teeth and hair too just about. Calvin even had all the components brought up from the hospital kitchens for making a sandwich to see if she could do that, but it was a much too difficult for her.

It’s strange, the defining lines between what she can and can’t do. When it’s a task using an implement like cutlery to feed herself, or holding a hair brush and doing her own she’s really improved. But then when it comes to tying her own hair up, she just cannot coordinate herself to do it. If the task involves something other than herself she’s fine. Doing things like touching her own nose, or reaching out to join her hand with Calvin’s she still struggles with. Getting dressed by herself is also something she can’t do at all. Putting her arms through the sleeves in tops is hard enough; she just cannot judge how to do it. She’s doing so well, even though she gets frustrated very easily. I’ve noticed she doesn’t have half the patience she did prior to her accident, but I don’t blame her for that at all. It must be frustrating for her not to be able to do the simplest of tasks for herself.

Calvin stays for only another twenty minutes before leaving us waiting for the doctor to come and assess her. We’re hoping today will be the day he decides whether she can come home or not. I think getting her home is going to do her the power of good, being around familiar surroundings. Her memory therapist Kirsty Carpenter thinks much the same thing.

“You need to surround yourself with your life and everything it comprised to even have a chance of regaining your memories. They aren’t lost totally, they’re still up in your head but the damage your injury caused to your brain just means that the electrical impulses do not fire properly to that section, which means you cannot recall them. The drugs you’ve been given will help this, as with our continued recognition therapy” she told Gemma when she first met with her two weeks ago. Since then she’s had little flickers and feelings of familiarity. It warmed my heart no end to learn that most of them revolve around me, even though of course she still doesn’t remember who I am. I still don’t act any more affectionately towards her other than a hug or kiss on the head or cheek, because of course she’s getting to know me all over again. It gets hard, fighting the urge to just pull her into my arm, plant a huge kiss on her lips and tell how much I love her. This isn’t about my feelings though as I’ve stated before.

“Everything is how it should be at this stage in your recovery, so I am pleased to announce that I am officially discharging you as of now. If you could just go to the front desk once you’re ready and sign a couple of forms, and then head to the dispensary for your medication you’re free to go” the doctor tells her after checking her over thoroughly.

“Thank you! And thank you for all you’ve done for me too. I’d love to shake your hand but my coordination won’t allow for that just yet” she tells him with a huge lit up smile all over her face.

“You’re more than welcome Mrs Kane, and I shall look forward to that handshake at a later date when you come back for your checkups” he replies, before excusing herself and leaving us to gather up all of her stuff, and then finally leave. I’ve waited for this day for the last two and a half months. Finally, I get to take my wife home where she belongs. We have to spend half an hour getting her release forms signed and then waiting around for her medication (of which there is a lot, twelve different pills per day for various things) to be sorted out, and then finally we can leave.

“Erm, I don’t think I can quite manage the seat belt” she says, after getting herself into a bit of a mess with trying to pull it around herself.

“Not a problem” I tell her, leaning over to untangle her arm and then pull it across properly and clip it in.

“Mmmmm, you smell nice” she compliments me.

“Thanks, it’s one you brought for me” I reply after I’ve started the engine up. “I’ll never forget when I opened it and sprayed it. I told you it smelt spicy and you said ‘oh it must be because it has essence of black pepper in it’ to which I said to you ‘so I’m a salad that needs seasoning now am I?’ I’ve never forgotten that because you laughed so hard you nearly peed yourself” I tell her while reversing out of the parking space. She laughs her ass off in reply.

“You’re funny” she tells me after she’s composed herself.

“I’m nowhere near as funny as you are though. I guess it’ll be fun to sit and remind you of everything you ever said or did that made me laugh” I reply.

“Can we do that, when we get home? Can you fill me in on everything from day one?” she asks me as I drive out of the parking lot.

“Of course we can. I have to show you around first though. How weird does that sound? Showing you around your own house, especially when you know, or knew where everything was better than I did” I laugh, and then give her a sympathetic look.

“I shall have to reacquaint myself with a hell of a lot” she replies, while I nod.

“Just don’t expect to get back to your old self right away. What I mean is that I’ve noticed how hard you can be on yourself when you can’t get something right” I tell her, watching her nod and smile weakly.

“Yeah, I guess I have been” she replies quietly while raising her eyebrows.

“I can see it must be really frustrating still though. You’ll get there though, if you’re nothing else you’re determined, aren’t you?” I then ask her.

“This is true, I am. I have tenacity” she replies, looking over at me and smiling brightly. She just needs to give herself time; I’m convinced that is what it’ll take. Things like this can’t be rushed.

Gemma’s POV

“You’re kidding me? We live here?” I ask Christian as he pulls his truck into a big driveway of what looks to be a very big ranch.

“It’s worth every cent the bank screws us to the wall with each month on the mortgage repayments, but yeah this place is home. Well, one of three. We’ve got a condo in Portland and a small house down in Nashville too. It’s a damn good job we both earn a decent living. Me with acting primarily, and you with churning out horses with a fifteen grand minimum price tag, and the stuff you sell on eBay too” he replies as he pulls up and cuts the engine.

“I sell stuff on eBay? Like what?” I ask him with interest as he unclips my seatbelt.

“You buy really old leather, like stuff on car seats and really old train seats and clothes and you bind notebooks and sketchpads with it. Bridgette took care of your shop on there while you were away, sold everything you had in stock and posted it for you and then cancelled the rest of the listings while you were away” he replies.

“She’s amazing I swear, she’s got an absolute heart of gold” I reply warmly, and then smile as I reach for the door and after a few fumbles, manage to slide my hand over in the right direction and click the door open.

“She is, and so are you” he tells me while pulling my back out of the back of the truck. He then locks it and we walk up to the house. I feel flattered by his comment. When we enter the house, my mother is there. Since she’s retired she’s volunteered to come and stay to help, since my rehabilitation will require I’m looked after constantly since there is still so much I cannot do for myself. Christian will be busy helping run my stable yard with a man called Tony who works for me, so he needs extra help. He doesn’t go back to work until June (ten weeks’ time) and I’m hoping to have improved even more by then.

“Hey hon!” she says warmly as I walk in and take a look around. My attention is then suddenly caught by the appearance of the three dogs I’ve seen in photographs, all running at me while yapping, crying and panting. I’ve never seen tails wag so quickly in my life.

“Hi mom, and hi dogs! Hi!” I say, bending to fuss them as best I can. It’s easy with the big ones, AJ and Hooch since there is a lot of them. I can aim my hand in their general direction, and even though it doesn’t touch to where I intended I’m able to fuss them. The smaller and faster looking one Lori is a little more difficult. Eventually she finds me though, licking my fingers and then jumping up to lick my cheek.

“C’mon guys, let your mamma in” Christian says, calling the dogs as he walks ahead to where I see the kitchen is, the dogs all running along after him obediently. Except for Hooch, who I’m told is ‘my boy’. Apparently he’s been very upset without me here. He’s such a beautiful dog, so are the other two. So far everything is so exciting to me, discovering my home and my pets all over again. Seeing what a lovely life I’ve created for myself like I’m seeing it for the first time. To my brain I am though.

“So obviously this is the kitchen, through that door there is the den, along the hallway past it there’s a bathroom, utility room, a closet where we keep jackets and boots and general junk. Right at the end of the hallway is the door to the garage. Right ahead of you is the lounge, and back out this way is the rest” Christian tells me after I’ve hugged my mom, and then watch him point to various locations as he tells me about them.

“That little room just to the side of the front door is an office; we keep everything to do with paperwork in there. All your business stuff is in there too. Down the hallway to that end are a dining room we never use, and a guest bedroom. Right, upstairs” he then says, before we walk upstairs.

“It’s really unusual that it’s not all on one floor” I remark, since most ranch homesteads are usually all on one level.

“That’s what you loved about it, the fact it had an upstairs” Christian replies as we come to the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, I remember saying years and years ago that I couldn’t wait to live somewhere that wasn’t all on one level” I reply as we walk along and I’m shown our bedroom, the two guest rooms and a large bathroom. Everywhere is decorated in bright and neutral contrasting colours, and I note already how I must have done most of it as it’s to my exact tastes.

“Bridget helped you with all of the decorating since I was away when you moved in. I couldn’t believe it was the same house when I got back” he comments as we head back down the hall again.

“I did well by the look of things. Especially since me and paint brushes just don’t mix” I reply with a small laugh. I’m useless at painting and drawing, utterly useless. But I’m great at craft. Sticking, sewing, embellishing, I can do all that. We then enter our bedroom and he shows me where I keep all of my stuff.

“I like the colour I chose for in here, bright but calm” I say as I look around the room. Darkish turquoise painted walls with bare flooring, simple white painted shabby effect furniture, a huge bed and a lot of alabaster ornaments, mostly of horses or naked women.

“I hated the idea when you told me, thought I’d be coming home to something resembling a French whore’s bedroom from the renaissance era. I had to eat my words as soon as I saw it; it’s really calming in here. I still don’t like how brightly you painted the kitchen though, but I’m getting used to it. Four years and counting” he tells me while I laugh.

“It is a little bright” I reply.

“And it takes a kick to the head for you to admit that? Damn” he replies, making me laugh a little more. After he’s shown me where everything is kept we head back downstairs and go out into the back yard, walking down to where I can see a double gate. It leads out of the yard and down to the stable block.

“Gemma, hey, wow you look so well! I know you don’t remember me but I’m Tony, I’ve worked for you since you guys moved here” a gentle looking, but sturdily built man in his early forties says to me as he walks towards us. I give him a hug when he gestures it with a look of question on his face, and he laughs happily when we embrace. “I’ve been so worried, it was horrible, what happened to you” he says quietly. It can’t have been nice for anyone to witness, seeing someone receive a kick to the head.

“Thank you for your concern, and keeping things going while I was away. I’m counting on you to fill me in on how we go about things down here, what the routine is so I can slide back into it with some kind of relative ease” I tell him.

“Oh no, not yet at least anyway, remember what the doc told you Gem” Christian then says.

“Ahh, he’s right. I keep forgetting I can’t even touch the tip of my own nose. I don’t think trying to groom a horse would be advisable, let alone anything else. But you can let me know how things are ran, I don’t need to take any kind of active participation in that” I reply, seeing Christian look relieved. His face changes with my next question though.

“Could you take me to see Charlie? I feel I need to see him, I think it’s sort of like a stepping stone in my recovery. Make my peace with the horse that did it” I say to him, while he pulls a face of sorts.

“I’m bringing him out here to you. He understandably still gets pretty anxious when you go into his stable” he replies. I nod and he turns around to fetch him, the sound of hooves preceding his return with a young chestnut horse in a brown leather halter on the end of a red rope. He’s a very striking looking animal, obviously he has slightly lean build as he’s young and only now just being brought into work but other than that he’s beautiful.

“Hello Charlie” I say to him, reaching out and stroking his face. He pushes against my hand in a friendly way, and then starts licking my fingers. It’s quite easy to coordinate myself to reach out to him because he’s so big.

“Your dad has been working with him on his temperament in general and he’s starting to become a little happier” Christian tells me, while I nod and run my hand down Charlie’s neck, down to his shoulder where I crouch and push his coat up with my fingers, looking for the taser marks I was told about. To think I always considered myself lucky to be able to afford horses bred by Herb Britton. I now feel ashamed I had anything to do with the cycle of abuse he put these poor animals through.

Thank heavens Charlie is safe here with us, the rest of them too now apparently since the police moved in on the yard a week ago on Christian’s provided evidence, plus a testimony of an ex member of staff who’d been paid substantial hush money by Herb. The horses have been put into the care of a sanctuary until the court date, and Herb remains free on bail. He faces losing his license, a large cash fine, and a life ban from owning animals. Christian told me that according to the officer handling the case he’s likely to receive all three, but probably not jail time.

“That bastard” I whisper quietly when I see the marks on his skin finally, after searching with my shaky hands for some time, finally having Tony come and assist me.

“I said words to a similar effect when I saw them too” Tony tells me, while I pat Charlie’s neck.

“At least he can’t do it to any more animals now. If I’d never been kicked, Herb would never have been found out. Or at least, not as quickly as he was, so something good came out of me getting hurt I suppose” I reply.

“We’d have all rather you hadn’t of been though Gemma” Tony replies, before taking Charlie from Christian. “I was about to tack him up and get him exercised, so if you guys will excuse me” he then adds. I nod and smile to him and he takes Charlie back to his stable, while Christian takes me back into the house.

“So then, what do you want to do now you’re home and kind of familiar with your surroundings again?” he asks me, before pointing to the kettle.

“Tea please, and I think I’d just like to wade into all that stuff you’d told me you’d sorted for me. The photo albums and movies and all my old diaries” I reply while he nods and prepares my tea, grabbing a can of soda from the fridge for himself and drinking back at least half of it before he answers.

“Sounds like a good plan” he replies with a smile, and then a huge burp. “Excuse me” he then says as he laughs a little.
“I bet you wouldn’t have said that normally” I tell him, kinda figuring somehow he just wouldn’t normally bother excusing himself.

“No, but I’ve got to be Mr Perfect all over again, like I was when we first started dating. If I bring out all the bad habits you eventually got used to over the years all at once, you’ll run a mile” he replies, making me laugh heartily. Okay, so apart from the devastatingly good looks I can tell right away another reason I fell for this guy. He’s really funny, really nice natured too.

“I’m sure you’re not that bad” I reply while he pours water into the mug in front of him and then hands me my tea. My tea that I almost drop in surprise when I see my back in the reflection off one of the glass fronted cabinets.

“OH MY GOD!” I exclaim, resting my tea down.

“What? Are you alright?” Christian asks me with mild concern.

“I just got a glimpse of all the ink on my back! Damn I sure added to it didn’t I?” I say as I pull up the back of my top to see how far down my tattoos trail. The last thing I can remember about my ink collection is that I had two angels’ wings across my shoulders. Now I have a sugar skull just below the wings on each side of my back, and streams of angelic script running the length of my spine between them. God that’s shocking! I didn’t think I’d have the commitment to go for such full coverage.

“Yeah, you’ve pretty much covered your back. Unlike most heavily tattooed people you did decide that’s where you were leaving it though. Just on your back” he tells me as he looks amused at my surprise in finding them all.

“Any more and it’d look too much” I reply as he nods in agreement. “So what does all the script mean?” I then ask him, watching him move to stand behind me.

“This one on the far left is a prayer for your grandparents, with their names there too. The one in the middle is a protection prayer for me and you, and it has our names written intertwined with each other in it, and then the one on the far right I can never remember. You have it written down somewhere though, it’s an ancient proverb of some sort” he tells me, while running his finger down each tattoo as he talks. That felt good, when he did that. But weird too, because it was like my body remembered his touch, yet my mind of course is blank to him totally.

“Thanks for filling me in on that. Now when anyone asks me what they mean I won’t be left standing there blankly like one of those idiots that get tattoos in a different language but don’t have a clue what they mean” I reply, rearranging my top and picking up my tea again. “So where did you say I’d find all the stuff I’m planning on looking at? The junk closet was it?” I then ask him.

“I put it all in the lounge. I’ll leave you to it, I’m gonna go keep your mom company out in the yard” he tells me with a smile, walking over and past me to the back doors, squeezing my shoulder and smiling widely at me again.

“It’s good to have you home” he tells me before continuing into the back yard; while I pick up my tea and head off into the lounge to take a look around before my walk down memory lane.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Thu Apr 28, 2011 3:24 pm

The first thing that I was glad about seeing in this chapter was the fact that Herb had all of his animals taken away from him - it's a pity that he won't be serving jail time; but realistically, and somewhat disappointedly, he wouldn't have to serve time, so it was the best of a bad situation and I am glad that you made it realistic rather than what your personal feelings are on the matter. It just brings much more weight to the entire sorry.

It's also great to read about Gemma's therapy - it lets the reader see what she has to go through and gives a much more sympathetic view to how tired and frustrated that she become in coming chapters. I also love the fact that her body seems to remember Christian's touch but not her mind. It makes things much more easy to understand from Gemma's point of view. Although she is making great progress; it's more than obvious that she has still got a long road ahead of her. More evident than anything else is Christian's complete love and support of her is astounding. This is shaping into a beautiful tale of love and overcoming the odds and I am enjoying every single second of it.

Another part that struck me was the fact that Christian doesn't crowd her; he lets her be to remember things from her belongings; that must take some deep strength on his part. To know that you had this amazing marriage with this woman, and having to watch her go through the rigmarole(SP) of searching for it all over again. I melted when he stated that he had left all her things were waiting for her in the front room - he truly wants her to get better for her, not just for him and that shone so brightly in this chapter that for a single moment, I forgot that this was just a story. I also love that he doesn't try to be overly affectionate with her - giving her all the support she needs through vocal promises and comments, instead of trying to crowd her with too much at once. I truly am addicted to this story and I look forward to the next update Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Twelve.   Thu May 12, 2011 1:31 pm

Gemma’s POV

“Okay, didn’t think so” I say to myself as I carefully set the DVD remote control back on the large black carved coffee table. I didn’t think I’d be capable of locating specific buttons with my finger and after a couple of attempts I proved myself right. Switching on a DVD player or using any type of remote control in fact has just been added to the mental list I’m making entitled ‘things to learn how to do again’. Deciding not to bother my mother or Christian, who have done more than enough for me already I decide to hit the photo albums instead.

Christian told me he was only going to bring down the ones I hadn’t seen, but then thought better of it and brought the albums with the photo’s I’ve already seen too. Apparently I was around a quarter to half of the way through scanning them all onto my laptop when the accident happened. So I pick up the first in the pile, looking at the spine and seeing it’s got the years from and to when the pictures were taken written on a little sticker. By the date of 2001-2003 I see it’s the very first out of the pile, and open it to see the pictures I recognise, but not from any long term memory. These are the pictures I’ve been going over and over, staring at them intently while trying to remember.

This is something I repeat as I lean back on the comfortable brown leather couch, looking at each picture intently. I see pictures of me looking so happy, pictures of me kissing my boyfriend (as Christian was back then) in various locations. In my bed at my old apartment, on the beach, up in the Hollywood hills (where Bridgette always loves to hike, she’s photo bombing one picture of us kissing, pulling a stupid face and waving her arms in the back of the shot), and then there’s a really beautiful one of me and him sitting on the back porch at my aunt’s house down in Mexico. I’m sitting on the edge of the step and he’s sat behind me, arms around me kissing the side of my neck as I smile happily.

“I wish I could remember, this is so strange” I say to myself and shake my head, turning the page to see photographs of me, Christian and my family all at a restaurant in Mexico.

“Awwww, papi” I say tenderly, kissing my thumb and pressing it to the image of my grandfather. My dad told me in the hospital he was no longer with us, and I grieved all over again for him. I love him so much. He passed away three months after Christian and I got married apparently. I sit and cry for him again with each picture I see of his smiling face, brilliant white teeth standing out in stark contrast with his dark skin. My family on my fathers’ side is darker in colour than most Mexican’s, and even though I’m half white I’m darker than your average full blood Mexican.

Moving on through the pictures I see the scenery changes again, I look at Christmas and New Year photographs, birthday celebrations, more vacation snapshots, and everything else I don’t remember. Suddenly shutting the album I take a deep breath and look around me. I feel like I’m in someone else’s house, I don’t feel like I’m home. This has all very suddenly ceased to be exciting. All it is now is scary. I just want what I remember, I want my apartment, my old bed, my old living room with the beaten up old green threadbare couch and huge brightly coloured homemade floor cushions that I had scattered around. I want to be able to go out of my apartment, walk to the end of the block and grab a coffee and a muffin from the coffee shop on the corner.

I want Bridgette to call me up and tell me she’s driving down from LA to see me for the weekend as a last minute surprise, I want to have to have trouble with the cranky old elevator door and have to slide the pin across the close it with the screw driver that hangs from a chain inside for that purpose. I want to be surprised by old Mrs Harris from 2B knocking on my door with a plate of warm hazelnut and cherry cookies. I want the life I remember, but also I don’t want to throw away the life I had after that. I want to find it, but also I want the security of what I can remember. It’s familiarity that calms us all in times of distress, and right now I’m beginning to feel pretty distressed about it all.

It’s all just so confusing, so hard to take in. I thought I was coping too well. I haven’t cried about it much. Unlike now though, as I sit here in floods of tears, confused and distressed tears. This is unbearably frustrating, trying to make sense of everything, trying so hard to remember that my head pulses with pain again. If I mentally exert myself I do get headaches pretty easily, I’m told it’s perfectly normal. Although that fact doesn’t make it any more pleasant, it just makes me cry more actually. As I’m sobbing, I hear something behind me getting closer and then a hand in my hair. I turn to see my mom sitting down next to me.

“Come here love” she says tenderly, smiling and giving me a hug, stoking my forehead and kissing my crown as she holds me tightly.

“Nothing adds up! Nothing makes sense mom!” I sob while she soothes me.

“I’m afraid it isn’t going to either. You have to accept that or you’ll drive yourself crazy. All you can do is hope that maybe, with time and I do emphasize on the word ‘time’, your memories will come back. It must be scary though, being here and not feeling like this is home to you” she tells me, echoing my very feeling right there at the end. I don’t feel home.

“I know I’ll get used to it in the end, but right now it’s just unfamiliar and scary. Everything is making my head hurt too” I reply, taking a deep breath and sitting up, drying my eyes on my fingertips.

“I think you should curl up here on the couch and take a nap for a while, come on, feet up” she says, standing up and moving a cushion down for me to rest my head on. “You rest now, no ore tears” she adds, bending to kiss my head and leaving me in peace. I just stare at the switched off television ahead for a while, before slowly my eyes start to get heavier, eventually so heavy I don’t want to keep them open any more. Falling asleep, I find myself falling into dreams. Dreams I am not sure are just dreams. Could they be memories?

I’m sitting in my old apartment, and Bridgette is sitting behind me straightening my hair out with a big brush and a hairdryer, and she’s telling me all about a house Ian sold amongst other things. It’s strange, everything is misty and my vision is like that of a drunk, revolving and making it hard to focus. Everything begins to swirl, and then instead of sitting in my apartment with my best of best friends I’m sat with her an Ian outside a restaurant in LA, a little Greek place called Athena’s I used to love going to. Ian lived about ten minutes from there so it was a favourite haunt of ours whenever I was in LA.

“Why so blue Alvarez? You shouldn’t be sitting there with a face like a wet weekend in Niagara!” Ian tells me while I pick up my drink and take a sip.

“My boy is far away though and I miss him! I know LA is like a second home to me because of you guys being here, but now I’m dating Chris it just doesn’t feel right being here when he isn’t!” I tell Ian.

“Is he far away? Hmmm, really?” Ian then replies as he and Bridgette laugh. Everything seems so clear suddenly, I’m sitting there outside the restaurant and I can even feel the breeze against my skin. The coral colour of my dress looks so vivid too.

“What the hell do you..” are the only words that come out of my mouth in reply to Ian before I feel two hands press into my shoulders, and a stubbly mouth kiss my cheek.

“Hi baby, did you miss me?” I suddenly hear, and then turn to see two piercing greenish blue eyes staring at me. I leap from my seat clean off the floor and into his arms, laughing with joy and kissing Christian over and over.

“Surprise Gem! He called me this morning and told me not to say a word about him being home two days early” Ian says, as the dream starts to swirl again. It swirls into black nothingness; the only thing I can pick up on is the sound of one lone electric guitar playing, and my voice singing.....

This town don’t feel mine,
I'm fast to get away – far,

I dressed you in her clothes,
Now drive me far - away, away, away

It feels good to know your mine,
So drive me far - away, away, away,
Far away,

I don’t care where just far away,
And I don’t care,

Far away
And I don’t care where just far away.

That song is called ‘Be quiet and drive (far away)’ by Deftones, and I love it. Hearing it in my head in the dream suddenly awakes me.....but now awake I don’t remember anything other than that song. I know I was dreaming, but as I sit and try desperately to recall what I dreamed about it just won’t come back. I have that song well and truly stuck in my head though. It must come from something significant, but I don’t have a clue what. Looking at the clock I’m amazed that three hours have passed since I crashed out here, with it just coming up to 4 o’ clock in the afternoon. I rub my eyes and then get up and head to the kitchen, where I can smell something nice cooking in the oven.

“I hope you’re hungry baby bean, I’m going my lemon and garlic chicken for dinner” my mom tells me as she bustles around the kitchen. “Did you have a nice sleep? You feeling a little better now?” she then asks me with the usual sweet dose of motherly concern as I head to the refrigerator and reach out. After a couple of attempts I manage to grasp the handle and pull, but knock over three bottles of salad dressing when my hand cannot quite find its way to reach in and pull out a can of soda. Mom comes over and picks up the bottles and then hands me the can of Sprite I was after.

“Yeah a little bit, it smells really good too” I reply firstly about dinner. “No I didn’t sleep well, I had dreams but I just don’t remember what I dreamt about. Or if they even were dreams at all. Kirsty told me I could well have memories flash up in my dreams but that once awake my mind cannot locate them again. I just remember a song playing in my head, and me singing to it” I reply while she stands and nods, listening intently.

“What song was it?” she asks me before turning back to chop up vegetables on the big granite chopping board over on the other side of the kitchen island in the centre of the room.

“Be quiet and drive by Deftones” I tell her, watching her look thoughtful for a few seconds.

“Can’t say I know it off the top of my head, or know why you heard it in your sleep. I bet there’s one person who will know if it has any relevance though. He’s down at the stables with Maggie. That’s his horse by the way” she replies while I nod.

“Then I’ll go and ask him” I tell her before heading out of the kitchen and into the back yard, eventually finding myself down at the stable yard where I can see Christian hosing suds off a huge Palomino horse who must be Maggie. He’s absolutely soaked to the skin too, since she keeps shaking all over him.

“I didn’t I needed a bath too, but I think she was trying to tell me something” he tells me as I approach them. “You trying to say your pop stinks young lady? Huh, is that what you’re telling me?” he then asks her, scratching either side of her muzzle before kissing it and putting the hosepipe down. He then picks up a plastic sweat scraper and begins to use it to push the water out of her coat further.

“She’s so beautiful” I tell him as I stand by her head and pat her wet neck, and then move back out of his way.

“Yup, and she knows it” he says, smiling at her proudly as he moves around to her other side. “Your mom told me you got a bit upset earlier, are you okay now?” he then asks me.

“Yeah, as well as I can be I think. Everything just started to feel really scary, the fact that this place just doesn’t feel like home to me and because of that I don’t really feel secure. But anyway, that’s to be expected. I had a nap after mom saw me and I dreamt a lot, except I can’t remember any of it. All I remember is a song that popped into my head, and wanted to ask you if it had any kind of special meaning or relevance. It was ‘Be quiet and drive’ by Deftones” I explain to him, while he pauses from what he’s doing and comes to stand in front of me.

“Yes it does, that’s the first song you ever played to me on your guitar when we first started dating. It took me about fifteen minutes of constant nagging at you to actually pick it up and play me something” he replies, while he smiles at the memory.

“And you don’t remember anything else, just the song?” he then asks. He looks pained for me when I shake my head to indicate a very firm ‘no’.

“I suppose it’s a start, something very small but something that did kinda come back to me. Oh, who am I kidding? I could’ve dreamt about that song for any number of reasons” I say, feeling myself deflating again just like I did before I went to sleep. Back into the realms of hopelessness I plummet.

“Gemma....” is as far as Christian gets before I turn my back and begin to walk away.

“I’m sorry, I just want to be alone” I reply before moving back towards the house at speed, feeling tears prickle my eyes again. So many conflicting emotions hit me as I walk through the kitchen with my head down, hoping my mom won’t notice me crying as I head into the lounge and pick up the small stack of my diaries Christian brought downstairs with him, and then head back out into the kitchen.

“So did you ask him about the song?” my mom says from her position mixing up some sort of stock in a jug.

“I just want to go be alone for a little while mom, I don’t really want to talk about anything to anyone right now” I tell her, watching her look at me sadly but nod in understanding.

“No worries hon, you go off and have some ‘you’ time” she replies with a smile. I leave the kitchen and head up the stairs to my bedroom, putting the diaries down on the bed and looking through them until I find the oldest one. Inside it I find entries that date back to the time I can remember, working two jobs at a club as a check in girl on the front desk at night and at a florist in the daytime, just about making time to look after my own horse and planning starting my own training business. I read entries where I’m going into great detail of the finances I require, how happy I was when my grandfather called me up from Mexico and told me he was wiring ten grand into my account so I could afford to buy my first horse to train up and sell on, how my father told me he’d help whenever he could etc...

All my hopes and dreams are here, all laid out in my neat and loopy handwriting, all in blue ink. I flick through the pages, until I see the entry that marked something big for me. The first time I met the man I’m now married to. Getting more comfortable on this lovely big bed I’m laying on I focus on the entry, May 16th 2001......

“Tonight, I had the best time with Bridgette and Ian. We went to get pizza first before heading over to a bar across the street, one we like to frequent when I’m up here. It used to be a jazz club but the owners moved away recently and it’s just been totally remodelled and gutted, it looks nothing like it did when it was named ‘All that Jazz’ (I know, original huh?). Now it goes by the name of ‘Forty two hundred’, which is the street number of the bar itself. The new name is not much better in the originality stakes, but that is not the story I have to tell. The story I have to tell involves the fact that as soon as I walked in there, I had a set of eyes watching me the entire time. This guy, this GORGEOUS guy who was hanging with his buddies, drinking beer and shooting pool kept looking at me throughout the night, and when I went up to the bar to order drinks he came over to talk to me. I would say he introduced himself, but he didn’t really.

He firstly told me that I was too pretty to be playing third wheel to Ian and Bridgette, before asking where my boyfriend was. When I told him I didn’t have one he immediately demanded to know why and when I couldn’t give him an answer he said I should think on it, because he was going to ask me again later on. I thought nothing of it, but about an hour later he just came up and unceremoniously dropped down next to me in the booth we were sitting in and asked again, before introducing himself to Ian and Bridgette. Then the next thing I know he asks me the same question again, and just like that I and B are out of their seats and off like a shot to another table, leaving me alone with him! I could have died! I was so embarrassed (I think I still am to be fair!) but I’m kinda glad they did because it did mean I got to know Christian a teeny bit. Well enough to give him my phone number, and decide that I liked him enough to hope he’d call me up and ask me for a date or something.

He’s so gorgeous, and funny and modest! He’s nothing like Ryan, who was just so self obsessed at the end of our relationship. I cannot forgive what he said to me about my appearance, ever. So it was nice to see a man looking at me with eyes that said ‘I’m interested’ rather than ‘you could lose a few pounds’. I’m only a size ten; sometimes an eight but what Ryan said really cut me deep. So it was nice to have some attention paid to me in the form of this guy, this ‘Mr new guy’ as I hope he might become. Will he follow up and call me? Who knows? He did keep on saying he just couldn’t believe I was single though, so that seems like he’s interested. Only time will tell I guess......but right now I just cannot stop thinking about him. Those eyes, damn....

I then turn the page and go onto a diary entry made one and then two days later, one that is in two parts spanning over those days.

“HE CALLED ME! HE CALLED ME OH MY GOD! Okay, I’m calm now! He called about an hour ago and asked me if I wanted to meet him at Zante’s tomorrow evening for a drink. Of course I said yes, after pretending to check if I had anything already arranged for that night, my last night here. After telling him I was totally free he arranged to meet me at 7pm. When I got off the phone Bridgette (who had been hovering in the doorway for the entire duration of our phone call) went absolutely berserk! She actually managed to pick me up and swing me around, giggling with excited happiness for me that the very gorgeous guy I’d been thinking about nonstop had just called up and asked me for a date. That was an hour ago as I say, and she still hasn’t calmed down. I swear she’s more excited than me about it!

In other news I was browsing through Horse & Rider magazine’s classified section and found a 3 year old mare for sale, backed and ready to bring on and from a prize winning Dressage sire. They want $4750 for her, and I called them up today to arrange going to have a look at her once I’m back in Nevada. I’ll be going over there after I finish at work on Wednesday night, and then head straight for the club afterwards. I hope she’s worth buying; I need to get my foot on the first rung of the ladder. Right now though, typical girl that I am all I am excited about is tomorrow night!

I then read on about that night in the second part of the diary entry.

“As I write this I’m sitting on the plane on the way back to Nevada, tired because I didn’t sleep all last night. I didn’t even want to get on the plane, I was having too much of a good time with Christian. The night started when I met him at Zante’s at seven o’ clock sharp. I was shaking with nerves for the entire cab ride there, and I hoped he might be a few minutes late so I could sit down with a drink and compose myself. He was already there waiting for me when I walked in though. As soon as he looked up and saw me, the smile he gave me set me at ease immediately, and I relaxed into what I can now say was the best first date of my entire life.

I learned all about his life before he came to LA, how he’d spent a massive amount of his younger years travelling around because of his fathers’ work in the oil business (and how he and his mother used to ride in rodeo events, which is apparently how they met too) and eventually settled in Oklahoma when Christian was thirteen. He told me that movies had been his only constant and his best friends as a kid because he never stayed in one place long enough to form solid friendships. He credits this as the reason why he wanted to become an actor, and I loved hearing him talk about how he packed up all his stuff in his truck and drove up to LA to begin the life he wanted to live. I’ve never enjoyed getting to know someone as much as I did him, but then when I felt I really was beginning to learn a lot about him he cut me off and wanted me to talk about myself.

The way he listened to me though, and asked questions made me feel so respected and like I was interesting too. I like it when people make you feel so at ease when you talk to them. I don’t much like talking about myself, I’m proud of my achievements throughout my life this much is true, but I’m much more of a listener than a talker. I enjoyed it so much though, getting to know him and letting him get to know me. We get on so well it’s crazy. After the bar we carried on to a club and met up with Ian and Bridgette, but I didn’t really see much of them. They’re both hardcore dancers and where up on that dance floor boogying away for hours, while I sat in a quiet corner with Christian stuck to his mouth for hours. Damn, he’s such a good kisser. Our first kiss was actually outside the club itself. He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the door and led me between the club and the building next door.

“We can’t go in yet. There’s something I have to give you before we do” he told me while he stroked my face in his hands, and then leaned in and kissed me. It took what I’d estimate to be fifteen minutes for us to finally come up for air! So, after the club I went back to his place with him (and not for anything other than talking I may add!) and we just sat there wrapped around each other on his couch talking, cuddling and kissing until the sun came up and I had to leave quickly to go back to Bridgette and Ian’s place and pick up my stuff! I wish now I’d have tried to get my flight at a different time. All I wanted to do was stay there with Christian and feel totally and utterly adored. I can’t say I’ve ever had a man make me feel like that before, and even if nothing comes from this then I know I’ll never forget it, how insanely happy I felt being with him”.

“Famous last words there, Gemma” I say to myself sadly when I read the line where the past tense me stated she’d never forget. I sigh and shut my diary, not able to read anything further. It makes my heart hurt so much, to know I had such happiness that I cannot remember now. It hurts too much, just too much.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   Thu May 12, 2011 3:17 pm

This is starting to pick up speed now - you have brought every little detail to light and are now bringing it to the forefront of what is an exceptional piece of work.

In the beginning to the update it was nice to see Gemma trying to get her memories back, all those pictures - memento's of times gone past that obviously meant so much to her since she had kept them all, but to see her not remember any of it, or what led to the photos was frustrating for me as a reader, so I can't imagine how much it must have stressed her out. To know that there is something that you should remember but can't, is something I deal with on a daily basis, and I think that you have made that shine so perfectly, the frustration, the anger and the disappointment to not capture those things in your mind. I loved to see Chloe back in this chapter too - she is such a strong character and steals the show so effortlessly. I bet she is worried sick about her little girl, but she is being so strong for her that it makes me wish I had a mom like that.

The dream sequence was very vivd and it was a nice interulde to see that Gemma hasn't lost those memories forever, I am guessing it will just take time to get them all back. It was like the sun bursting through storm clouds, like giving her a light at the end of the tunnel, although the frustration at being unable to remember the dream itself, might not have her see that light at the end. It was a beautiful memory too - seeing Christian come and surprise her - seems like something that he would do to be honest. At least she managed to take something out of the dream though - the song, I can't say that I am a Deftones fan, cos I'm not, but it is obviously a huge thing for her to remember and maybe just the beginning of her memories coming back to her.

The feeling of wanting to be left alone is perfect for the scene and something that definitely would happen in her situation, it might be hard for Christian, and the rest of her family and friends to deal with but this is something that Gemma has to deal with - she has to meet it head on and let it take her where she needs to go to find her way back to who and what she had. The diary entries were beautifully detailed too - I could feel her excitement with the whole new thing with Christian and it just made me feel so bad for that she can't remember it. Brilliant update and well worth the wait Very Happy xoxox

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PostSubject: Chapter Thirteen.   Mon May 16, 2011 2:31 pm

Bridgette’s POV

“No, I absolutely will not take a cent under the asking price the seller has stipulated. Those people just wouldn’t know a fucking good deal if it hit them in the face! They want a luxury property for peanuts and in this economic climate that just isn’t going to happen. One point two or we have no deal, tell them that from me Layne” I tell one of my agents out showing a property before handing up and taking my Bluetooth earpiece out. The Dawson’s have been nothing but a hassle to me since we started showing them properties a month and a half ago. They tell me one point five million is their limit, but try at every opportunity they can get to haggle for one mill square.

“THEY’RE PLAYING WITH MY EMOTIONS!” I roar at the top of my voice as I fling open the adjoining door between my office and Ian’s. He doesn’t look up right away, but I see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“The Dawson’s?” he enquires.

“Yes the Dawson’s!” I fume, pacing up and down and clicking my heels off the hardwood floor in an aggressive manner. I have a carpeted office so my enraged stomping doesn’t have quite the same effect in there.

“Babe, sit. Or make yourself some herb tea and calm down first. Is Layne showing them one of the lake houses or the Ashcroft place?” he asks me, while I move over to where he has a hot drink machine and pour some boiling water over a green tea and camomile bag. I chose a big mug too, and intend to leave the bag in to allow the calming camomile to do its magic.

“The Ashcroft, the complete bargain that’d be worth three point five if we weren’t in a recession” I reply, stirring my tea aggressively before stomping back over, resisting to slam the mug onto the desk as I sit down. I can’t take out my anger on Ian’s possessions. Those people should be thankful they have one and a half million to spend on a new home. Ian and I certainly don’t have that kind of money at our immediate disposal and we’re the realtors of the place for Christ’s sake!

“He’ll get ‘em to bite, he’ll roll out the old gem of rushing them through the rest of their appointment because he has to prepare for the next viewing, and casually drop it into conversation just how many people are viewing the house that day. He’ll have them in the palm of his hand in ten minutes flat” Ian replies confidently. Layne is a damn good realtor; he could sell tea to China for heavens’ sake. But the Dawson’s are tough cookies. Just then I hear my cell beginning to blare out from my office, and am cut off before I can reply.

“I’ll be back, if you hear me screaming you’ll know it’s Layne again” I tell Ian, smiling as he smiles and winks at the same time at me before I run off into my office again, tea in hand. Also in the carpet after I’ve spilled a quarter of it whilst running to my desk.

“Hey big guy, I’m so damn pleased it’s you and not one of my guys out there trying to sell this house to a couple of tight wads” I tell Christian as soon as I answer.

“Hi B, so how are you other than pissed off over clients?” he asks me. He doesn’t sound his normal self; I pick up on that straight away.

“I’m fine, but you’re not” I reply as I sit in my big fancy chair behind my desk. I have it for comfort, not for my ego.

“I’m alright. Gemma isn’t though and that’s why I sound off. She just sits in the bedroom downstairs all day and night long, wanting to be on her own. Says she doesn’t mean to offend me but she’d feel weird sleeping next to me, since she doesn’t really know me so that’s where she’s been since the night she came home” he tells me, while I wince.

“Ouch, that can’t have been easy to hear” I sympathise.

“She has a point though, and I respect her decision to be completely honest. I just don’t like the fact she’s hardly eating anything and just tells me and her mom she wants to be on her own. I need you to come and pull her out of it. It’s been four days now” he then tells me, while I feel worry beginning to creep over me.

“She seemed a little quiet when we came over the night she got home. I’d been thinking up until then that maybe she was coping a little too well at times. I hate to say it, but I’ve been waiting for this. Or something along the lines of it” I reply, letting a long breath out through my nose and pinching it at the bridge as I lean back in the chair. This news, the confirmation of my fears for my best friend, is just adding to the mounting headache this day is giving me already. I was waiting for her to drop down in mood and go into a little world of her own. Now she has sadly.

“Look, work is pissing me off to the back teeth, so I’m going to tie up this morning and get out at about 1pm. I’ll come straight over okay? I should be there for around two” I tell Christian, reaching out for my tea.

“Perfect, thank you, I’ll see you then” he replies before hanging up. When Gemma is sad she always does this. She just withdraws and likes to be alone, to not talk to anyone. She doesn’t even have to talk about how she’s feeling, but she does need to get out of that room and eat something. That I know for sure. With that in mind I make a mental note to pick her up one of her favourite things to eat on the way over, the food stuff she can never refuse. Doughnuts with maple frosting and bacon, and yes you read that right. I like a little maple syrup with my bacon as much as the next person, but in frosting form on a deep fried doughnut? Oh god, gross. She loves them though, so hopefully a box of four will cheer her up.

I finish my tea and get back to my work, tying up all my paper work quickly before dashing out on my way to my first of three viewings I have this morning.

“The kitchen is very pantheon-esque I think. The owners are Greek and wanted to pay tribute to the beautiful architecture of their home country as you can see. It’s been extended so is the largest room in the house, perhaps even the feature room. The extended eating and sitting area here toward the back certainly makes a nice family space” I tell the first couple I have an appointment with forty minutes later, giving them my usual spin on each room we enter. Although my words are confident and efficient and I have a smile on my face to rival that of beauty pageant competitors, my heart isn’t in this. I just want the day to hurry the heck along so I can be on my way to see Gemma. I’m dying to cheer her up.

The last time she was this depressed was when she was twenty years old and had to have her horse put to sleep. He’d been kicked while out in the paddock and it broke his hip. There was no way to fix it that would be fair on him, or easy on Gemma’s pocket. Surgery would have cost over $50,000 dollars and meant he would have had to be suspended in a harness in his stable for six months after the operation. She’d have got a loan to pay for it didn’t mean he would have had to have gone through such a painful and frustrating healing process.

I hope I can pull her out of her misery somehow, but in all truth there is no magic way to fix someone’s distress at losing the memory of the last ten years of their life. God, I can’t even imagine what she must be going through, and I’ve told her as much before. Both Christian and I have noticed just how much her patience has been affected by her injuries. Before the accident Gemma was the most patient person you could ever meet. Now, she gets so angry with herself if there’s something she cannot do. At the hospital I remember sitting with her when she had her therapy with that lovely guy Calvin, and she got so angry with herself when she couldn’t do her little exercise of stacking up these child’s coloured building blocks.

She just can’t get her head around the fact that whereas she can sit and write, she can’t do things like stacking items atop each other, or for example reach out and touch another person where she intends her hand to go. Calvin asked her one morning to reach out and see if she could grasp one of the fancy dangly earrings I was wearing and she could only get her hand to my shoulder. I must admit I found it quite hard to understand it all, how these tasks that seem so similar can have such a glaring divide over which she can do and which ones she cannot. If I found it hard, lord knows how Gemma is coping. Then again, I don’t think she is. Christian hates to bother people when they’re working so I know just how worried he is by him calling me this morning.

“Well it’s beautiful Miss Morgan, we’re going to have a think about it and then we’ll give you a call sometime this evening if that’s okay?” Mrs Witherspoon tells me as I finish the tour of the house she and her husband are interested in buying.

“You have my number; call any time before 8pm because that is when my work cell goes off. It’s been a pleasure meeting you both” I reply, shaking both of their hands before seeing them out of the house and locking up and heading over to my car ready to drive to my next viewing, which is just ten minutes down the road luckily. If I manage to keep good time this morning I might even have a chance to get a quick workout in at the gym before I head to see Gemma. If not, I have my riding gear in the trunk of my car so I can perhaps take Mack out for a ride and get some exercise that way. Seeing if Gemma is okay is my top priority though.

It turns out that I won’t get time to hit the gym though since my second clients are twenty minutes late in arriving to meet me, and then my third clients take up a lot more time then I envisaged as I show them around the small studio apartment they’re interested in. So much so that I’m a lot later than I expected to be in firstly heading to the bakery that sells those awful doughnuts Gemma loves so much, grabbing a few items of shopping I need, and then quickly ducking home to change into my jeans and a casual shirt before heading over to Churchill County to see my best friend. In good traffic I can usually make it from here in Reno down to there in about fifty minutes to an hour.

“Hey you, thanks for coming over” Christian tells me as he opens the front door to me and sweeps me up in a big hug. I give him a kiss on the cheek and mentally note how nice he smells, having just gotten out of the shower by the look of things since his hair is still wet.

“No problem” I reply as I enter the house a little further, giving Lori some fuss when she comes up to me, tail wagging so hard her ass wags with it.

“She’s still down there. I tried to get her to come out and have some breakfast with me when I got up but she just wasn’t interested. Her mom helped her get dressed and she just sat there afterwards, doing what she’s been doing for the last four days. Sitting there staring out of the window. It’s not good for her, but then again I really don’t know what the best thing for her right is now” He tells me, sighing heavily.

“Me neither, but I’m sure I’ll work that out after talking to her. I’ll go now” I reply, smiling at him before turning away and heading down to the guest bedroom Gemma has taken up permanent residence in.

“Hey sweetie, it’s only me” I say after knocking the door.

“Come in” she calls from the inside. When I open the door and enter she smiles up at me from her seat next to the window, but her smile is so fake I just know there’s no happiness behind it.

“Oh honey, look at you” I say as I place the box of doughnuts down on the bed as well as my purse and then move to wrap her up in a hug. “Why are you shutting yourself away in here, all by yourself? There’s a man out there right now who’s worrying himself silly about you. I know you don’t remember him or even know him really, so it must be hard to consider how he’s feeling but please try to understand he hates seeing you like this” I then add.

“He isn’t seeing me when I’m in here though, is he? And no I don’t know him, so really I don’t care what he thinks or feels” she replies, making my heart skip a beat in my chest. That’s not Gemma talking there, no way. She’d never say something that cruel. It suddenly dawns on me just how bad she must be, or is the attitude change because of her accident? We were warned her personality could be drastically altered from the Gemma we know and love.

“Well, I don’t really know how to answer that. I want to say he’s your husband, and once upon a time you two were very much in love. That still stands from his point of view at least, so taking that into consideration you should care about how he feels. On the other hand though you’re right, he’s a stranger to you” I reply, picking my words very carefully. “This isn’t about him though; this is about you and locking yourself away. Is it just him you’re hiding from?” I then ask her.

“It’s this whole life I just don’t know Bridgette, it’s scaring me! I don’t remember anything, my mind plays tricks on me all the time, I keep dreaming about things but not being able to remember them properly! I, I’s too hard!” she exclaims, taking a big breath before she continues. “I just want what I know, and I know nothing here! The only thing I have familiar is my mother and when she leaves what do I have? Nothing!”

“You have ME” I begin, practically shouting the word ‘me’ at her before softening my tone again. “I’ll be here for you always, you know that Gemma. I’ll do anything to see you through this dark time, anything”.

“Can you give me my memories from the last ten years back?” she asks me.

“I wish with all my heart I could” I reply.

“Well that’s all I need to feel better, so no there’s nothing you can do to make this ‘dark time’ as you call it better. Nothing will” she snaps at me, glaring slightly before looking back out of the window. It hurts so much to see her like this.

“Is there nothing at all I could say or do to make you feel just a little bit better? I was going to offer to take you out to lunch or something, get you out of the house for a little while and take you to one of our old haunts we always used to go to before I moved to LA, how about that?” I ask her while stroking her arm. She can snap at me all she likes, it won’t make an ounce of difference. I’m not that easy to push away. I’m a realtor; I have to have tenacity in abundance and a hide like a rhino. She stares back at me sharply for a few seconds, and then her face softens.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole to you, it’s just so hard. I shouldn’t let that make me hard too and freeze out all the people who love me. Both the ones I remember and the ones I don’t. Yes, lunch would be lovely, thank you sweetheart” she tells me, making my insides breathe a sigh of relief. There she is, the Gemma I know and love.

“I’m glad you agreed. Look, I’ll go tell your mom and Chris what’s up and then are you all ready to go?” I ask her.

“I just need help getting my boots on, but yeah all ready other than that” she replies, finally smiling a smile that holds a little happiness behind it. Ahhh, the Bridgette Morgan technique works. And I didn’t even need to break open the box of doughnuts. Although when I come back from informing her mom and husband that we’re off out, I find her eating one.

“You’ll spoil your appetite!” I scold her jokingly.

“I always have room for one of these little babies, thanks for the treat” she then says, blowing me an air kiss before taking another huge bite. I wait for her to finish and then we head out and I assist her with her shoes before we leave.

“I think I know what’s making me so upset” Gemma suddenly voices to me when we’re about ten minutes into our journey.

“What, apart from the obvious?” I reply sympathetically.

“It’s doing all the exercises and practising all the techniques Kirsty has advised me to do, like looking at photographs, reading my diaries and the like. I know it’s the best thing to do to help the possibility of me recovering my memories, but it’s so hard. Reading about and seeing how happy I was is so tough, because it’s a life I have no clue I’ve even lived. That’s what is getting me down” she replies with sadness clearly there in her tone.

“It must be like some sort of mental torture, seeing everything there in front of you but not being able to remember it. No one expects it to be easy on you Gemma, and no one expects you to get better overnight. But really, I suppose that isn’t the issue. The issue is I’m guessing is that you feel very lost because nothing but nothing is familiar to you, right?” I ask her, indicating to turn right at the oncoming crossroads.

“Exactly right, wow, you’re good. You always have been though. I’m so damn glad I can remember you Bridgette” she replies, smiling at me. Her smile looks a little pained though, poor thing. After another ten minutes of driving we pull up outside of a small diner, so small it only seats fifty people. Gemma and I have loved this place since we were kids. We enter Madge’s Diner and sit down to order a couple of coffees and then browse the menu. I’m glad that in the time that follows this I’m able to raise a few more smiles from my friend. We sit and reminisce about times gone by and I feel happy that she can take a trip down the memory lane she actually knows.

“Do you remember when we came in here for shakes after skating the whole way down here from my aunt’s house? No matter how many times we fell over and bumped our knees, Madge’s chocolate milkshakes were always worth it” I tell her, while she smiles and nods.

“They tasted that extra bit nicer that day because we’d gone through so much pain to get there and buy them! Neither of us was particularly talented on rollerblades were we?” she replies, laughing as she remembers. She had a bruise on the side of her thigh the size of an orange the next day from where she skated into a telegraph pole.

“Do you remember the old candy store out by the post office? Right in the middle of nowhere along the highway, and I know I only went a handful of times, but do you remember it?” I ask her, watching her nodding vigorously.

“Yes! Oh god, what was it called” she replies, looking thoughtful and circling her hand around in frustrated gesture. “Erm…
oh damn what was it called?”

“Sickly Sweet Treats!” I suddenly announce as the name hits me suddenly.

“THAT’S IT! Oh I loved that place! The toffee was to die for, and there was so many different types too” she replies, her face all lit up at the memory.

“Yes! They had regular, brazil nut, chocolate chip, cherry, banana, strawberry, mint, maple and pecan which I remember was your favourite now we’re talking about it” I reply. “What other stuff did they have?”

“They had everything! About fifteen different types of mints, chocolate slabs the size of a dinner tray aniseed sticks, more lollipops than you could ever imagine eating, and the fresh popcorn! Do you remember that too?” she asks me, with joy all over her face. Finally, she has something she can talk about from her past that fills her with happiness.

“I do, I loved it and I loved that place. Shame it closed down” I reply, while we both nod.

“Oh but speaking of cool places to go, do you remember…” and off Gemma goes headlong into another memory from our childhood, one involving Sharon too. Memory and remember are definitely the words of the afternoon as we continue to talk until way past 4pm, ordering coffee after coffee.

Talking about it seems to have been good for her, since as each memory shared passes, she seems more back to her old self and less sullen. By the time I have her safely back home again I’m convinced I’ve made an improvement and hope she remains as upbeat as she is right now. Right now she looks very much back to her old self again. Sadly in a day’s time, I discover how wrong I am for thinking this.
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PostSubject: Re: Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.   

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Lest I Forget - Christian Kane/OC fic.
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