TC Stark: Hola! Sometimes, it's hard coming up with new story ideas in the midst of a hiatus. But, with all of Robert Knepper's (Blaine's dad) posts on social media about his return to iZombie, it got me thinking. This is just a small, one shot that might get a little sad and heartbreaking. Oops! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas. Please leave a review if you enjoy my story. You can follow me on Twitter TC_Stark

Blaine sat in the abandoned funeral home that apparently was his. Even after washing the blood away from Chief's dead corpse and saving Peyton with Ravi, he still had no memory of Shady Plots. Of course he remembered Don E bossing his around; working with grieving loved ones picking out caskets, but he still couldn't recoil his purpose for the place. That he had been the one to buy the business so he could sell brains. That was the piece missing.

A man had been in the freezer. Blaine discovered him one day while sitting alone. Thawed him out. He was angry. Slightly shorter than himself, he had a hard face and cruel eyes. There were some fingers missing on his hands and his suit would have looked expensive if it were not ruffled up and covered in blood. What kind of life had he led before the amnesia? From Ravi's explanation, it sounded horrible.

"What do you mean you can't remember!?" The man shouted, venom spitting with his words.

Holding his head in exasperation, Blaine groaned, "I can't remember anything. Can't remember you. I-I don't know, I was told I was a zombie, I was dying. So, I took a cure and my brain has been shit ever since. Sorry, old man."

Sure, he probably shouldn't have said that but some of his old personality was still around and this guy just seemed like the type he wouldn't have liked. Angry, Angus stomped forward and snarled, "You don't remember? Oh how convenient for you! Just in time for you not to take responsibility!"

Before Blaine was able to retort, or block himself; the man hit him. Harder than someone with missing fingers should have been able to. The sound of bone hitting bone rang loudly in his ears and he fell to the floor. Shit that was uncalled for. Why the hell was he paying for shit he didn't remember?

Angus kicked him. He wasn't finished with his onslaught against his son. The bane of his existence who he couldn't seem to shake. An ungrateful maggot who made sure that he stayed relevant enough to remain in his life. And now Blaine was his lifeline and he couldn't remember.

Blaine was lost. With every blow, he felt a pain in his head. He tried to block it all out, but all he could do was grunt and wail. This felt familiar. Oddly familiar. The hits. The degrading. This has all happened before. So many times...so many times. Each pang of hurt was beginning to feel more and more like home...a fucked up home. This was who he was.

"Angus." He grunted, finally pulling away. Everything was coming back to him. His childhood in the large mansion that felt like he was living in a basement. A room that was forever locked once his mother killed herself. A cackling nanny who delighted in discovering new ways to make Blaine squirm.

Really? Getting the shit kicked out of him by his dad was what made him remember who he was? God, he had problems.

"What!?"

Finally catching his breath, Blaine slowly began to stand as he rested his head back and lazily pointed, "You should be happy all you lost were a few fingers. Now, get out. I have shit I need to take care of."