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"We couldn't have gone somewhere else?" Farrah says, her breath barely escaping her lips as it struggles to adjust to the air. "New York? Los Angeles?"
"Are you complaining already?" William Bale demands, glaring at Farrah with all the derision a schoolteacher holds for an unruly child.
"I'm not complaining, I'm just asking," Farrah insists. "It's hot."
Billy observes their surroundings, noting the various bottles of water and fans fixed in people's hands. "It's hot all over. Let's get going." He holds his son, Phillip, in his arms as Farrah drags their suitcases along the rocky pavement toward a bay of taxis.
She flags one down and a cabbie hops out, taking her suitcases and shoving them into his vehicle's trunk. "Where to?"
"We're going to the Bon Temps," Billy says, handing Phillip off to Farrah. "Just outside the French Quarter."
"Great, great," the cabbie says, a thick Creole drawl hanging on every word. "Y'all here for business or pleasure?"
"A little bit of both," Billy mutters, climbing into the cab.
Farrah ignores Billy and leans in toward the cabbie, whispering as if she's telling a secret. "We're here to get married. It's where his parents were married, and it's where he was born."
The cabbie grins. "Oh, well congratulations, beautiful!"
"Thank you," Farrah says, following Billy into the cab.
Phillip tugs at Farrah's hair, now sweaty and stringy from the New Orleans humidity. She gently swats his hand away as the cabbie shuts the door and heads back around to the driver's seat.
"Here we are," Farrah says, beaming. "The beginning of the rest of our lives."
"Something like that..." Billy mutters, softly enough that it doesn't register above the sound of the car engine revving up.
"A goddamn clinic," Jessica says, shaking her head. "How the hell are they supposed to help Alexis without a hospital? Without doctors?"
"They have the same doctors there, and you said Simon already looked at her."
"I know... and thanks for leaving Blake so you could drive me, but..." Jessica knows that Vince is being the rational one, but she just got Alexis back into her life. And with all of the loss she's had recently... Alec... Phillip... she can't afford to lose anyone else. Her sanity can't afford it.
But she feels as if she's teetering on the brink it as Vince rounds the corner and heads up the street toward the clinic, near the edge of Marquette Cove before the highway heads into Chicago. Once his car slides into the parking lot, before he can even finish parking, she bounds out the vehicle and heads toward the clinic's front entrance.
"I'm looking for Alexis Lopez," Jessica says, announcing her presence at the front desk.
As the nurse flips through a mountain of paperwork to locate Alexis' room, Vince joins Jessica at the desk and turns her attention to the room at the end of the hall, where Kane Li paces back and forth. They approach Kane, solemn looks transfixed on their faces as they await the news.
"Thank you so much for calling me," Jessica says, embracing Kane. "How... how is she?"
"I found her outside... she was covered in so much blood..." Kane begins.
"How is she?" Vince snaps, clearly irritated by the lingering embrace between Kane and Jessica.
"She's absolutely fine. She'll need crutches for a bit... but... um, this is gonna sound weird, but she's got... she's got amnesia," Kane says. "She can't remember how the car hit or, what happened before."
Jessica breaks away from Kane. "Can we go in?"
Before Kane can finish responding in the affirmative, Jessica pushes her way into the room and approaches Alexis' bed. "Alexis, are you okay?"
"There you are," Alexis says, more than excited to Jessica. She urgently ushers her friend toward her bedside. "Before anyone else comes in, there's something I need to tell you about..."
As Jessica leans in to listen, Kane glides through the door with Vince in tow. Alexis immediately clams up.
"What did you need to tell me?" Jessica asks.
"You look so different," Alexis blurts out. "Did you do something with your hair?"
Jessica trades dumbfounded looks with Vince and Kane. "Um... it's shorter?"
THOMAS HOME
Detective Heather Crane follows behind two police officers after they kick in the door to the boarded-up house. Their search for further evidence against Blake Thomas would probably have led them here eventually, but it helps extraordinarily that they received an anonymous tip that Blake has been living in his former childhood home.
"This place is a mess," Heather notes, first taking in the appearance of the living room before the smell of rotting, mildewing wood strikes her in the face. "Let's get what we need and get the hell out of here. It's like a fucking mausoleum."
"If I hadn't seen a dead body, I'd suspect the kid was some kind of serial killer anyhow," a male officer mutters. "This is like, some Dahmer or Manson shit here."
Heather continues toward the kitchen, where she finds evidence of a kitchen that's been in recent use. Fresh bread lies on the counter, dishes in the sink... "Was he having a fucking dinner party in here?"
She turns around and notices a door slightly ajar. A basement.
"The basement is usually the creepiest," the male officer whispers.
Heather looks at him with mock irritation. "Can't be creepier than your hovering. Let's go."
The sound of the front door being broken down causes Chris Server to stir from his sleep on the edge of the basement couch. Without needing to be upstairs, he can sense the presence of Heather Crane and several police officers scouring upstairs.
And he knows that he needs to be out of this house now.
He should have been worried when Blake never came home the previous night, but there's no time to think about that now. He needs to get out of the basement before anyone can see him.
But as he punches a hole through the basement window, he is immediately struck with sunlight. Chris' hand recoils in writhing pain as smoke from his burnt flesh fills up the room. Hearing someone descending the stairs, he realizes he has to chance it...
He snatches up a sheet from the floor and tosses it over his body before sliding out the basement window, shards of glass tearing at his face and arms. The pain of the burning sunlight is almost too much to bear as he lies on the grass lawn, struggling to find the strength to leap to his feet and take off into some dark, shadowy corner.
He finally manages to crawl to his feet and stagger toward a nearby tree, relishing the shade. But before he is able to catch his breath, he feels a sudden blow to his head. One strong enough to knock him unconscious and send his body slamming to the ground.
"Nice escape," Ricard Branch says, a menacing grin on his face as he stands above Chris' body. "But not that nice."
L'HÔTEL DE PARIS
PARIS, FRANCE
Sean Moore and Monique Davenport have finished with the waiting game long before they arrive to await the return of Curtis... Derek… or whoever the hell was with them a few hours earlier. Sean is at least grateful that he's been released from his jail cell while he's waiting for proof that his newly discovered brother really is who he says he is.
"Do you think this man is telling the truth?" Monique asks.
"You mean that he only looks like Derek Moore because he's really his twin brother, Curtis? A third brother I never knew I had until today?" Sean says, not even believing the words as he says them. "Stranger things have happened."
"Have they?"
"Just last year? I came back from the dead as a woman."
Monique remains silent until, "Is that American slang for..."
"No," Sean says.
Monique nods. "Oh."
"I was dead. And then I came back with the memories of my adopted brother's wife in my brain."
"Then perhaps this man really is who he says he is," Monique says, choosing to ignore the insanity of Sean's admission. "And this brother of yours... Derek, correct?"
"Yeah," Sean says. "I wasn't around for most of it, but... he was a real son of a bitch to my family. And this all after he tried to kill me with..."
A loud knocking interrupts Sean and draws his attention to the hotel suite's door. He goes to the door and opens it, finding the man who insists he is Curtis Moore standing in the hallway. He holds a piece of paper in his hands and brushes his way inside.
"Here's the proof, faxed over from the Hyde Park adoption agency we were in as kids," the man says, handing the sheet to Sean.
Sean snatches up the paper and pores over it. "Curtis Moore... same birthdate as Derek... same... parents."
"Same parents?" Monique asks from her seat on the couch. "So it is true, then?"
"You're my brother," Sean says, staring at Curtis in complete shock. "I don't... I don't know what to say."
Curtis laughs. "Me either."
"I know what to say," Monique says, hopping to her feet and slapping Curtis. "You are a liar!"
"Hey, lay off!" Curtis cries.
Monique grabs her purse and turns to Sean. "I will head to the police station and corroborate Marcus' alibi, now that I know you aren't here to kill me." She spins back around to Curtis. "And you? I never want to see again."
She strides out of the hotel suite, leaving the brothers alone in silence. After a few moments, Sean finally speaks up. "I'm still gonna need..."
"A blood test, absolutely," Curtis says. "But you realize that I have the same DNA as Derek, right? Being his twin?"
"Oh, yeah," Sean says. "Maybe they can run a test to see if you have the whole... um, murderer gene?"
Curtis nods. "Yeah. Maybe."
THE BON TEMPS
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
Ryan Phillips dons a set of sunglasses as he exits the Bon Temps and joins Vanessa Watson outside. "I got us a room."
"Two beds?" Vanessa asks, raising her head.
"Actually, they only..." Ryan decides it's not worth losing his genitals to continue with the joke. "Two beds. Yes."
"Good," Vanessa says, leading the way from the hotel entrance to their rental car. "We'd better get a move on it, if we're going to find this Southfork guy you wanted to talk to."
Ryan frowns. "Yeah, about that... he's dead, apparently."
"Dead?"
"I made a call when I was inside," Ryan explains. "I got his wife, who says he was eaten by an alligator a couple months ago."
"An alligator? You must be joking," Vanessa says.
Ryan shakes his head. "No, he hunted them. It was bound to happen sooner or later."
Vanessa shakes her head as she climbs into the passenger's seat of the car. "I guess we'll have to talk to some of your other contacts then? Anyone who might know where we can find this Spade guy?"
"Most of my contacts seem to have dried up," Ryan says. "We could try the police, but... I was in contact with them during my original story, and they didn't have much information. Not even when one of my leads, Alfonso Harris, was killed."
"Then what is this? A dead end?"
"No, we'll turn up something," Ryan insists.
As Vanessa shuts the car door, Ryan heads around to the driver's side. Before he can open the car, a cab driver pulls up next to him, nearly clipping his side.
"Hey, watch where the hell you're going you mother —"
The cabbie rolls down the window. "Watch the language, my friend. I've got a baby on board!"
Ryan shakes his head. "Whatever."
As Ryan jumps into his car and drives off, he and Vanessa are no longer present when the cabbie stops his car and lets his passengers out. If they were, they'd have surely recognized two of their former students... one of them who should be dead.
"Come on, let's hurry up and check-in," Billy says, carrying Phillip out the car. "I'm wiped."
MARQUETTE COVE FREE CLINIC
"Look at you, having amnesia again," Jessica says, taking a seat near Alexis. "That has to be a world record or something."
"Only partial," Alexis insists, smiling. "I just can't remember anything from the past few days."
Vince, leaning against the wall, laughs. "I think we'd all like the forget the past few days."
"It's so weird thinking that Aaron's dead," Alexis says. "Is Rebecca... is she at home?"
"Yeah, she's taking it pretty hard," Kane says.
"I'll bet," Alexis mutters. "So... what does this mean for me? Do I get to move out and live with Robert now?"
"I don't think so," Jessica says. "Rebecca married Aaron, so that should make her your legal guardian now."
"Don't worry, we'll take good care of you," Kane insists.
Alexis tenses up, forcing a smile as she rubs Jessica's hand gently. "Thank you for coming to see me. It's just like old times, you know. Back when I had amnesia the first time."
"Yeah, right before Ryan and Vanessa's wedding," Jessica agrees.
"Do you remember that day, Vince?" Alexis asks.
"Of course," Vince says. "That's the day my uncle went kablaam after that car bomb exploded outside the church."
"Yeah, that," Alexis says dismissively. "But I mean the conversation we had. We had this really deep conversation, and I think you helped me start to get my memories back. Remember?"
Vince frowns. "We did?"
"Of course," Alexis insists. "But we were interrupted when we were outside, and the car bomb went off and well... you know."
Jessica shakes her head. "Actually, the car bomb went off..."
"Let's stop talking about it," Alexis cuts in.
Vince manages to make eye contact with Alexis for a brief moment, and something in her eyes tells him that he needs to pay more attention to what she's just told him. She seems to remember so vividly a conversation that never happened... which means that either getting hit by that car really screwed her up, or... she's trying to tell him something.
Something she doesn't want Jessica or Kane to know.
"Yeah... let's talk about something else," Vince says, letting his voice trail off.
