I watched this movie for the first time just 2 days ago and I LOVED IT! It also gave me a really interesting idea. I really don't know how far I'll take this, but here goes.

I don't own RHPS.

Hope you enjoy.

Things were fuzzy at first, and painful. That part didn't come as any surprise. He whimpered and shifted around, trying to bring some life back to his sore limbs. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, but once he did he found his surroundings were brightly lit and unfamiliar.

He was covered with a blue blanket and lying on a bed that had barred sides. There was also a sack full of clear liquid hanging from a metal pole next to the bed. His eyes followed the tube protruding from it down to where it disappeared under the blanket near his left arm.

A hospital?

And now he was panicking.

He was doing an ineffective job of it though, mostly because his body was refusing to cooperate. His muscles were quivering just from trying to push himself into a seated position, and when he moved one of his legs a jolt of pain shot up his spine that caused him to give a girlish yelp and fall back down.

A figure loomed over the bed that caused him to freeze, and a gruff, friendly, male voice said, "You gotta lie still pal, you're in pretty bad shape."

His eyes bulging, he took in the man's uniform and tried to move away. "Who... who are you?" he whimpered.

The man gave him a sympathetic look and spoke in gentile tones. "Try not to move now. I'm Detective Craig, and you're in the hospital. No one's gonna hurt you."

But this didn't calm him down at all. "I can tell I'm in a hospital!" he barked. His voice was frantic and high. "I specifically asked not to be brought here!"

Detective Craig wasn't fazed. "I know. The gentleman who found you told us, but he had already called 911 by the time you said that, and the paramedics state you were in no condition to patch up and leave there. It was their call. They were just trying to help you."

"Okay," he breathed. He was starting to calm down, the thick lethargy of exhaustion setting in. He was still mentally on high alert though. "Okay," he repeated.

"Right, everything's okay," the Cop assured him. "Now, if you feel up to it I need to take you're statement. The sooner the better so we can get to catching whoever did this to you. I'm just going to start by asking a few questions, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

He just stared forward, his face blank.

"For starters, we couldn't find any ID on you. Can you tell me you're name?"

"Frank."

"Alright Frank, did you recognize who did this to you?"

Frank met his eyes for a long moment and then looked away to stare at the IV stand. He was silent, his mouth straight and serious. "No," he finally said.

"Did you at least get a look at their face?"

Their eyes met again. "No."

"Anything about their appearance? Their clothes? Skin color? Anything?"

Frank shook his head, his eyes getting wider.

The Cop was good. He didn't even show any signs of frustration. "Frank, don't look so worried. It'll come back to you if it needs to. Now, just 'cause I have to ask, do you remember anything about what happened?"

"No!" his voice caught in his throat.

"That's fine, that's just fine." Detective Craig ran one thick index finger over the stubble above his lips. He took a moment to contemplate his next move. "I just have a few more questions. These ones are about yourself. Do you feel up to that?"

Frank swallowed and nodded.

"Good," he smiled, not the fake 'I'm you're friend' kind, but one that could actually be sincere. "Now Frank, can you tell me the reason you didn't want to come to the hospital?"

"I was scared," Frank answered immediately. "I... this place... the thought made me feel sick. It still does. I don't really know why."

"Fair enough. I need some of your personal information. Can you tell me your last name?"

"I..." Frank's lower lip trembled and he looked like he was going to cry. "I... There's nothing there!" he all but screamed. "All I can remember is 'Frank'! I don't know who I am! I don't know why I'm here, or who you are, or why you're asking me all these questions. And why does everything hurt?"

Detective Craig leaned forward, taking hold of the bar on the side of the bed and holding his other hand out in a placating manner. "Woah Frank. Just take deep breaths, nice and slow. That's it."

Frank did as he was told, and his panic was quickly replaced by wide eyed, pale faced calm.

The door to the room opened and a woman with brown hair and a tired face leaned in. "Tim," she said, "can you come out here?"

Detective Craig frowned at her over his shoulder, but nodded and said, "Just a sec. I'm almost done."

She nodded back, and closed the door once more.

"Frank, you still with me?" the Cop asked.

"Yes." The answer was barely there.

"That's good. Don't you worry about your memory. We're going to do everything in our power to help you out, got it?"

Frank nodded.

"You take it easy. Try to get some sleep. I'm going to leave you alone now, but I'll be right out in that hall way, okay."

Another nod.

Detective Craig hesitated and watched the patient with concern, then got up and left the room. He left the door open a crack.

Once he was alone, Frank sighed and relaxed. He eyed the different bodies standing around outside the doorway warily, and kept his ears perked for any snippets of their conversation he might catch. They were talking too quietly, though, and he couldn't hear anything.

A couple of them moved off, while at least two stayed where they were. They didn't talk and soon Frank stopped paying attention to them. He was starting to feel too warm under the blanket, so he shifted around until it was down below his chest and his arms were lying on top of it. They were dotted with random bruises, his right forearm was bandaged, and there were abrasions on his wrists. He didn't pay attention to any of that.

There was a clock on the wall and after awhile he picked up on its ticking. The monotonous sound should have been annoying, but instead it lulled him and he was nearly asleep by the time Detective Craig came back.

This time the Cop wasn't alone. There was a nurse who went strait for the IV stand and stood next to it. There were two other Officers, the tall and tired woman from before, and a young man with a crooked nose. The last person to come in was obviously a doctor. She had black hair tied back in a professional style and a straight face that belonged in a poker game. She was also wearing a clean, white coat.

"Hello Frank," she said. "My name is Dr Sharon Bannis." She didn't bother with any friendliness, fake or otherwise. "I hear you have amnesia. That's very unfortunate, but I have some good news. We may already have a clue towards your identity. You see, we tested a sample of your blood."

While she was talking, the nurse had slipped the IV out of his hand and replaced it with a little band-aid that was more like a flesh colored dot. She picked up the stand and left the room. When the door opened for a moment he noticed there were more people waiting out in the hall.

Frank sank as far as he could into his pillow (which wasn't very far). He looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. He wet his lips with his tongue and asked, "You did? Why would you do that?"

"You were unconscious when you were bought in, and you had been assaulted. We wanted to make sure your attackers didn't inject you with anything. Also we don't have your medical information, so we wanted to know if you were on any medications."

"How thoughtful." He sounded utterly defeated.

The Doctor's face softened a little. "Yes, well I got a bit of a surprise when I got the results. In fact I had them run three times just to make sure there wasn't some mistake. You see, you're blood came back unidentified."

"That... that means you couldn't find my blood type, right?" Frank's eyes flicked around to all the occupants in the room and than settled back on her. He smiled weakly. "I wouldn't know why that is. I already told Detective Craig, I can't remember anything."

Said Detective spoke up, "It's alright if you don't remember, Frank. That's not the issue here."

"That's right," continued Dr Bannis. "This goes far beyond having an unknown blood type. The problem is that we can't even identify you're species. You're not human, Frank. You're not anything we've ever seen before."

Frank's eyebrows lowered and he frowned. He looked worried, but not surprised. He closed his eyes and sighed, then opened them and fixed them on the doctor once more. "I suppose you've already contacted your government?"

"We have." It wasn't the doctor who spoke, but the female Cop. "They're on their way now."

The change was sudden and almost missed. When his eyes turned from the doctor to her, they were lidded. His face was completely calm, and a smirk slowly crept onto his lips. He pushed himself up on his elbows without a wince or sign of the damage to his body, and he said, "Well, that's too bad. They're coming all this way for nothing."

She shuddered, everyone did. The room was beginning to become stiflingly warm, and yet the three Cops and the doctor felt like someone had injected ice into their spines. This was no longer a helpless victim before them. He now seemed terrifying, powerful, and attractive.

Detective Craig was doing a better job than the others of keeping calm. "Why do you say that, Frank?" he asked evenly.

"Because Tim," Frank's voice oozed out like honey and his eyes travelled shamelessly up and down the Cop's body, "I am not going to simply give myself up to them."

"And how exactly do you plan on getting out of here?" asked Dr Bannis. "I don't even think you can walk."

"That's a..." he paused long enough to create suspense, "secret."

The word came out with a weight to it that knocked the air from her lungs. She gasped and had to take a moment to collect herself. "I think... I think we should restrain him," she announced to the others.

"Good idea," said Detective Craig. "We don't know what he's capable of."

Dr Bannis turned to the young man with the crooked nose. "I need you to hold him down."

The Cop gave her a look that said he thought she was nuts. "Bullshit, lady! There's no way I'm going anywhere near that thing. For all you know he can spit acid!"

"Stevens!" barked Officer Craig.

"Don't worry," the doctor assured him. "If he could do something so dangerous he wouldn't be in his current condition. I think he's just using some sort of telepathy on us. That's why we feel so strange right now."

Frank laughed slowly, but made no comment.

"I'll do it," Detective Craig sighed. He cautiously approached the bed, placed an arm across Frank's chest, and pushed.

Frank didn't resist, and went down with a suggestive 'oof.' He smiled and said, "Oh Tim, you're so strong, so forceful."

The doctor called out, "We're ready," and three nurses came in carrying restraints.

Frank spared them a glance and then leaned up to the Cop who was holding him. "You don't think I'd make it that easy do you?" he whispered into Detective Craig's ear.

"What's that suppos-" the Cop didn't get to finish as the languid form he was holding suddenly came to life.

Frank thrashed so wildly that he barely managed to get a better grip. A leg swung around and would have kicked him in the chest had the female Cop not caught it. The two of them struggled just to hang on, and the nurses hesitated in the face of such violent resistance.

"Hold him still," Dr Bannis said frantically.

The woman just avoided a knee in the jaw and yelled, "Easier said than done! He's stronger than he looks!"

The crooked nosed Cop asked Dr Bannis, "Shouldn't we sedate him?"

"Absolutely not!" the doctor answered firmly. "We don't know what his metabolism is. It could kill him."

Finally Frank reached his limit. His struggles slowed to almost nothing and the nurses jumped in. It took them mere seconds to get him thoroughly strapped down.

When they were done, the Cops stood back, panting and exhausted.

Frank was faring worse though. His eyes were shut tight and he trembled uncontrollably as his body screamed at him for what he had done. It took a lot for him not to vocalize his pain.

Detective Craig eyed Frank's pale and heaving state and then grimaced up at Dr Bannis. "I told you we shouldn't confront him," he said. "We could have avoided this."

The doctor was taken aback. "I just wanted-"

"To satisfy your curiosity?" He addressed the female Officer and asked, "How long until the Feds get here?"

"They said about two hours," she answered. She looked at her watch. "That was twenty minutes ago"

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Dammit." He looked around at the medical staff. "You can all go back to your regular jobs." He pointed at the doctor when she was about to protest and said, "You too. The FBI will want to talk to you when they get here, but until then you're not needed."

She looked at him hard, her poker face back. She said, "Right," and then walked out.

He sighed. "I really didn't need this tonight." He started to leave, but when his two colleagues made to follow he put his hand out to the young man. "No Stevens, you stay here." Officer Stevens opened his mouth to complain, but was cut off. "Don't start. We have no idea what this... whatever it is can do, and I m not leaving him in a room alone."

"Why can't one of the nurses babysit him?"

"Because nurses don't carry guns or nightsticks to defend themselves should he get loose." Detective Craig frowned at the nervous Cop and softened his expression a little. "Look, all you have to do is sit here and make sure he doesn't move. If he even breathes funny, you call me. I'll be right down the hall, got it?"

Officer Stevens nodded reluctantly, and his colleagues left. He didn't really want to sit in the chair by the hospital bed - that was a little too close for comfort - so he stood around moping instead.

He never noticed the small, deviant smile that was forming on Frank's face.