A/N: Hey, all! I'm back to writing this story and it's going to be better than ever! I took out a lot of the parts that didn't really add up, or didn't make sense. I've deleted all the chapters in it so far, so I could start with a fresh clean slate. But don't worry! I have them on back-file since I need those to see what was in each chapter, haha! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Tobias...! Can you hear me, Tobias? Wake up...!"

My mind imploded inwards, and I abruptly opened my eyes. A field of grass and flowers met my vision, and I blinked in confusion. Where was I?

Sitting up and looking around, I discovered I was completely and utterly alone. There wasn't a soul in sight. Who was just talking to me? I wondered, eyes still wandering over the field. I noticed a trough of trees, tightly packed together—almost how penguins would huddle together for warmth.

I looked down, bringing my hands around to look at them. They were covered in dirt and grime; minor cuts and bruises littered around my palm and on the back of my right hand. I glanced past my hands, seeing that my legs were the same way—cuts and bruises covering the majority of my skin. How did I get this way?

I hefted myself forward onto my hands and knees with a soft grunt, careful not to fall flat on my face in the dirt. Even without looking at my face or arms—or whole body for that matter—I knew they were the same as my hands and legs. I turned my head to the left, seeing a small boulder nearly hidden by the long, tall grass that surrounded it.

I reached out my arm towards the rock, shakily grabbing for a hold on the surface. My arm slipped off the boulder and went crashing straight under my body, causing me to roll onto my back. "Ack!" I grunted as the wind was knocked out of my lungs. I slowly opened my eyes—not realizing that I'd closed them—and looked up into the sky.

Big, white, puffy clouds littered the bright blue sky, lazily drifting their way across without a care in the world. The sun above the clouds gently drenched the field I lay in with golden rays, making the grass shine a golden hue. I squinted my eyes against the sun, moving my head farther back to see the sky behind me. Just on the horizon of my field of vision, I could see the very tops of the trees that were packed together, their leaves a bright green as they rustled together in the gentle breeze. I smiled, closing my eyes and relishing the feel of the scenery around me. I didn't know where I was, but at least it was very peaceful.

The peacefulness lasted a mere moment, though, as a strange humming filled the air—faint at first, before growing louder and louder with each passing second. I opened my eyes again, curious.

A machine was flying in the air just over the tops of the trees on the horizon. It soared not in a straight line, but rather dove down to the ground and made swooping patterns across the field. I got the impression that it was...looking for something. As it grew closer, the humming got louder and I could better make out just what the machine was.

A hover-car, I thought, the word popping into my mind. The machine was a hover-car.

The hover-car landed about twelve yards away, next to the cluster of trees in the middle of the field. The door opened and a large man stepped out of the car. He was too far away to see clearly, but he began to inspect the trees for something. My curiosity began to grow. Who was that man? Why was he there? Would he know why I was there?

I slowly stood on wobbly legs, my curiosity getting the better of me. A sudden wave of dizziness crashed over me and I swayed, nearly falling over again, but this time I managed to stand my ground. The dizziness soon vanished, to my relief, though I still felt tired. Drained.

With shaky limbs, I gradually made my way over to where the man was standing. His back was facing towards me. The man continued to study the group of trees, scratching a balding head. White tufts of hair stuck out like clouds around his head, covering his ears. When I was a few yards away from the man, I stopped approaching.

"...It just doesn't make sense," I could hear the man mutter. "Why would it be here? There's nothing here! Nothing! Unless it was hidden… But how…? How could I find…?" The man began to pace again, oblivious to my presence. Not wanting to startle him, I opened my mouth to say something—but nothing came out. I blinked and tried again, but once more my voice refused to work for me. It was strange… It was as if I couldn't quite figure out how to speak.

The pacing man turned a full circle in his musings and now I could clearly see his face. He was an older gentleman, perhaps in his early 60's, and bore a strikingly large nose. I blinked. I felt that…somewhere, I'd seen this man before. His face was familiar to me, but I couldn't for the life of me remember where I'd seen him before. The man was rubbing his chin, still deep in thought.

"…Camouflaged? Most likely… But why? Why would he—" The man did a double take, finally noticing me. He flinched and stumbled backwards, crying out in alarm. I jumped back as well, stumbling over my clumsy feet and falling over into the dirt.

"GYAHH! WHO—no what— You—how did you—" the man stuttered, his skin pale. I looked up at him and opened my mouth once more to speak, but again, nothing came out. This was beginning to be frustrating. The man cautiously creeped closer to me, as if I were a dangerous animal. Soon, he was only a few feet away, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Toby?" he gasped.

I blinked. I know that name, I thought. How do I know that name?

"To…by…" I struggled to repeat what he said.

The man's jaw dropped. "Toby? Toby Tenma? Is that—is that really… Is that really you?" he gasped.

"To…by-y...Tenm-ma…" I slurred, squinting up at the man. The man was taken aback.

"What…what happened to you?" he breathed, holding out his arm. He gripped underneath my arm and hoisted me to my feet. He grabbed my other arm and leaned closer to me, concern etched in his eyes.

"Toby. Do you know who I am?" he asked in a clear voice. I opened and closed my mouth, squinting up at him. "Do you know who I am, Toby? Dr. O'Shay? From the Ministry of Science?"

Dr. O'Shay? "Doc…tor...?" I rasped.

O'Shay clenched his jaw. "We need to get you to a hospital," he said, taking me by the arm and carefully guiding me to the car.

"Hos...pital?" I echoed.

"Yes, the hospital. I don't understand how..." He broke off with a sigh, opening the passenger door. "Come on; climb in, Toby, that's it."

I hesitantly obliged, clumsily getting into the passenger's seat. As soon as I was settled, O'Shay closed the door and hurried to the other side, climbing in the driver's seat and shutting the door behind him. "Let's just get you to a hospital to explain this...whatever it is," he mumbled, slightly to himself, as he buckled his seatbelt.

I looked over at him. Again, I felt as if I knew him. I felt very comfortable with the older man as there was a sense of familiarity about him, but it wouldn't click with me as to why. I noticed O'Shay was shaking slightly, stealing glances at me every now and again. He knows me, but where from? And why does he seem so...terrified?

The dizziness from before suddenly hit me again and I winced, burying my head in my hands.

"Toby?"

I glanced up again, squinting at O'Shay. My vision was starting to blur and it felt as if the car was rocking back and forth.

"Toby, are you alright?"

My head began to spin even faster and I felt sick to my stomach. "I..." I croaked, trying to tell him what I was feeling. "I...s..."

O'Shay looked down at me, even more worried than before. "Toby? What's wrong; tell me!"

"S...ick..." I muttered out. My vision blurred and I slumped in my seat. Everything soon faded to black as I fell unconscious. The last thing I heard was the kind Dr. O'Shay shouting my name in alarm.

~O~O~O~O~

The next thing I was aware of was a steady beeping noise. The dizziness was gone, thankfully. I blinked open my eyes to be met with white. Blurry shapes surrounded me, and I squinted, trying to make sense of them. I was laying in a soft bed with sheets draped over my figure. The beeping noise was coming somewhere from my left.

A blurry figure suddenly loomed over me. "Toby?" the figure asked. I recognized that voice!

"D-Doc...tor?" I rasped.

"Toby! You're awake!" He let out a sigh of relief, resting a large, warm hand on my head. "I was worried. How—how are you feeling?"

"I'm..." I slowly raised a hand to my head, noticing both were covered in thin bandages.

"You're feeling, what, dizzy? Normal? How do you feel?" O'Shay prompted me.

I swallowed. "F-fine... I feel...fine," I managed to get out.

O'Shay visibly relaxed. "Well, that's good that you feel better!" he replied. "We took some scans of you while you were unconscious. Er...Toby, I-I need to ask... What do you remember? What's the last thing that you remember?" he asked me.

I furrowed my brows. Remember? "I...remember...w-waking up...in a field..." I said.

O'Shay frowned. "I mean before that, Toby. What do you remember before that?"

"I..." The beeping noise began to quicken its pace, matching the beat of my heart. My mind was racing, trying to find something—anything—beyond waking up in a field. "I can't—I don't—know. I don't—I don't remember—"

"Hey, hey, Toby, calm down, calm down," O'Shay hushed me. "It's alright. It's alright..." His expression said otherwise. "Toby...do you remember how... Do you remember where we first met?"

I blinked up at him before slowly shaking my head. "I don't remem...remember anything," I whispered, confused.

O'Shay scratched his balding head, deeply concerned. "Amnesia," he muttered. "Why am I not surprised...?" He stood there musing a bit before shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Don't worry too much about it, Toby," he added. "With help, your memories should come back to you. I suppose I should explain... Well; you were in a bit of an accident a little while ago, but now you're absolutely fine!"

"F-fine?" I asked. "Nothing w-wrong?"

"Besides the amnesia, nothing at all! The only thing that was wrong was just your cuts and bruises, but those are all taken care of now! Also, I took the liberty of providing you with some clothes," he added, motioning to some clothes laying on a chair.

"The doctors said that you'd be fine to go home, so I'm going to take you home with me, if that's alright?" I nodded as he continued. "I can look after you until we find out, er...until your memories return... So if you feel up to it, let's get you dressed and we'll be on our merry way to my house." O'Shay helped me prop myself up in my bed slowly.

I swung my legs over the side of the white bed and carefully set my feet on the ground. When I straightened up, my head spun just a little, and I gripped the side of the bed to regain my balance. Dr. O'Shay immediately put his hands out to steady me.

"I-I'm fine," I said, steadying myself.

"Are you sure?" Dr. O'Shay asked, and I nodded. Even so, he put his hand on my shoulder, and guided me out of the room.

Soon, we were out of the hospital and O'Shay was helping me back into his car. As we took off from the parking lot, I sighed. He looked over at me. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "N-nothing, really... I-I...was...just wondering why you're...helping me...?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been decent to leave you in that field!" he laughed. "Toby, trust me; you and I are good friends. I worked with your father, and now I'm going to help you."

I nodded slightly in response, looking out the window as all the buildings flew by. We drove over a grand bridge that I assumed led from the main road into the city.

Dr. O'Shay turned off of the bridge away from the city and onto a road that led into a nicer looking residential neighborhood. I watched the faces of people pass by in a blur; the faces of children playing in their vast front lawns, and the faces of their parents as they watched their children play. I smiled to myself, wondering if I had ever done that with my parents.

A strange, hot and sticky wetness escaped from my eyes, and I wiped at it, holding out my hand to examine it as it wrapped around my finger.

"Toby, why are you crying?" O'Shay asked.

I wiped the tear on my shorts and shrugged, wiping my eye from which the tear had escaped. "I don't kn-know."

"It's alright," he soothed, patting my shoulder gently. "We'll get you cleaned up once we get home, okay?"

I nodded, glancing down at my boots at the foot of my seat. After a moment, I looked up at Dr. O'Shay once more, a smile on his face as he quietly hummed to himself. I wanted to know everything about Dr. O'Shay, but more than anything, I wanted to remember my life. I wanted to know why I couldn't remember anything before waking up when I did. I also wanted to know who had been speaking to me when I first woke up in the field. That voice had been different than Dr. O'Shay's—for one thing, it had been a woman's voice, not an older man's...so who could it have been?

My thoughts were cut off short as O'Shay shut off the car and opened his door. "We're here, Toby!" he said, getting out. I jolted slightly, quickly opening the door and getting out of the car with ease. I looked up and around me, realizing that we were underground in a parking garage. I had been so absorbed in my thoughts that I hadn't noticed the change in light.

The overhead lights hung semi-low, glowing a dim blue that you had to squint at to see it clearly. I turned to look at all the cars parked in the garage, thinking to myself that there weren't many—maybe around thirteen. Although, when I glanced at the parking garage, it wasn't that big, either.

I glanced over at Dr. O'Shay as he took a suitcase out of his trunk and slammed it shut, turning to me. "Alright, kiddo, let's get going. You need some cleaning up!" He began towards the elevator in the middle of the garage. I followed after him quickly, careful not to be left behind. I didn't want to dawdle and be left waiting for the elevator to come back down.

Hurrying beside O'Shay and watching as he pressed button number twelve, the doors closed and the elevator quickly rose to the twelfth floor. The doors opened, and I nearly fell back against the far wall of the elevator. It was a speedy elevator, and as I watched O'Shay step out of the elevator like nothing affected him, I could tell that he was probably used to it.

I slowly followed after him, watching warily as he pressed his hand to a locking device on the side of a door. It looked like it was scanning his hand print. After about three seconds, the mechanism beeped and a robotic voice rasped out, "Welcome home, Dr. Alfred O'Shay."

I blinked at the voice. It sounded so guttery and robotic that I didn't think anyone should need or want that voice. Was it programmed that way, or was there a robot actually in a control room keeping tabs and saying that? Lost in my train of thought, I didn't notice O'Shay wasn't with me in the hallway anymore. I started, hurrying towards the open door where he disappeared to and peeked inside.

It was a nice apartment. It had a quiet, subtle feel to it, the walls piecing it all together with its faded mahogany color. The apartment also had a faint smell of pine and cinnamon. The furnishings inside the living room persisted of a futon couch and a love-seat, all sitting in front of a fireplace with a holographic monitor over it. A faded honey maple table sat in front of the couches and the fireplace, where a one-flowered vase sat upon the top, along with a framed photograph.

"Well," Dr. O'Shay said, clearing his throat, "let's get you clean and get you some more clothes, okay?"

"Okay," I replied, following O'Shay as he walked into the hallway, stopping at a door and pressing the button on the side, the door sliding up automatically. It turned out to be a bathroom. I saw him press a red button inside the shower, causing the water to come crashing down gently into the tub, steam already rising from the warmth of it. He turned to me and motioned to the shower. "You just get in there and clean yourself. Use the soap to get rid of the dirt, and use the shampoo to clean your hair," he told me, pointing to each of the things he mentioned. "And when you're done, you press this red button again, okay?"

I nodded, waiting until O'Shay had left the room to begin taking off my clothes. I stepped into the shower and began cleansing myself. Using the soap as directed, I washed away the dirt and grime from my body and face, leaving a squeaky-clean feeling as soon as that was finished. I grabbed a hold of the shampoo bottle and squeezed some of the liquid into my palm, slathering it into my hair and scrubbing away the grime.

I felt as if I'd done this a million times before—taking a shower. I couldn't be too sure, because I had only just woken up—from how long a nap, I wasn't certain. I mulled it over a bit before finishing up with my shower, pressing the red button to turn it off. Pulling back the curtain, I grabbed a white towel from the rack and began drying myself off.

I suddenly noticed that there was a fresh pair of clothes on the counter. They looked brand new, and I frowned. He didn't buy me clothes, did he? I picked up the shirt in my hand, feeling the fabric. It felt extremely soft to the touch. I also noticed that my spandex shorts were folded as well, sitting next to the brand new clothes. I placed my fingers on the fabric, feeling that it was clean and didn't have that rough feel dirty clothing had. He washed my underwear, too? I turned around, seeing that my boots had been scrubbed clean, shining as the bathroom light gleamed off its surface—not a scratch to be found. I smiled despite myself.

I began to put on the clothes—spandex first, then the t-shirt, then the jeans, and the jacket. All that remained was a pair of socks, which I quickly pulled on. I turned to the right, noticing a fogged up mirror. I wiped my hand across the surface, revealing my reflection. Brown eyes filled my vision and wet, brown hair that hung over my face in clumps. I wiped the remainder of the fog off of the mirror and studied my reflection.

A sense of familiarity filled me. Now I remembered what I looked like! My face was round, though my jaw was slightly angled, and my eyes were a light milky-brown. My hair was dark brown, looking—as of now—like a mess. My memory flashed a picture of spiked hair, which rendered me confused. What did that mean? Then I blinked again, looking at my hair closer as I imagined the image of spiked hair onto my own head. It fit perfectly! Not only that, but it seemed to be the normal way it looked.

Now...how to get it that way? I asked myself, bringing my hands to my head and trying out the spikes, but they just flopped back to being a mess. I tapped my finger on my chin. What do people use to get their hair to stay the way they want it? I wondered, looking again at my reflection in the mirror. Then I snapped my fingers. Hairspray!

After a split hesitation, I frowned. I don't like the smell of hairspray... I blinked. Where'd that thought come from? I stared at myself in the mirror, perplexed as to where that random thought had come from. Maybe it could have been another memory that had surfaced? I didn't know. But what else is there besides hairspray? I asked myself, thinking deeply once more.

I sighed, shrugging to myself and walked over to the door. It slid up by itself, making no noise as it did so. No wonder I didn't hear Dr. O'Shay when he came in to give me the clothes... I peeked around the corner both ways, seeing that they were clear of anything but dust and air. I went down the left, going back the way I had come before I had gotten into the shower, leaving my boots in the bathroom. I sat down on the futon, waiting patiently for Dr. O'Shay to come and find me. It wasn't that long before he did.

"Oh, Toby, there you are!" he greeted, coming into the room from upstairs. "Good. Feel better?"

"Yeah. Shower helped."

"Good. That's good. Well, you just sit tight there while I make some dinner, alright?" he said. "Feel free to watch some television."

"Okay," I replied. As O'Shay walked back to the kitchen, I relaxed in my seat. My eyes wandered over the living room and caught sight of a small stack of papers on the edge of the coffee table. Curiosity took over me, and I sat up, leaning over the table and grabbing them in my hand to look at them. The pages I found were filled with numbers and algorithms, some scribbled out furiously with a pen and rewritten a few times over. It seemed that O'Shay had been trying to solve something big—if that was his handwriting, anyway. I shifted the papers apart so that they were all next to each other and I could get a good, clear look at them.

The formula was...wrong. It just seemed wrong. The numbers didn't add up, and it was bothering me greatly. I glanced around and noticed some scrap paper nearby and quickly grabbed it and a pen on the coffee table and wrote down the algorithm with the correct numbers. The right numbers. After fixing his mistake, I took a good look at the other equations. The numbers burned into my mind, adding, dividing, and multiplying themselves in my mind. I knew the answers, so I quickly turned over the piece of scrap paper and scribbled it down as best I could. I didn't really know what the numbers were for. It just irked me that they were completely wrong—and I had nothing better to do, anyway. O'Shay walked back into the living room just as I finished jotting down the last couple numbers.

"What're you doing, my boy?" O'Shay asked, noticing me kneeling at the coffee table with the papers. His eyes widened. "Ah—oh. I would prefer if you didn't touch those. Those are rather important."

I looked from him back to the pages, frowning. "Sorry, I was just fixing the...the equation. It was wrong," I said sheepishly.

O'Shay blanched. "What? What do you mean wrong?"

"Well...I wrote the correct stuff on this piece of paper," I said, handing him the scrap paper. He took it, raising an eyebrow. Slowly, shock overtook his face as he stared at my work.

"How...you...you solved... How...?!" He opened and closed his mouth, completely flabbergasted. "You solved... It took me a week just to..." I just shrugged my shoulders, dropping the pen back onto the coffee table and rubbed the back of my head with a sheepish laugh.

"It wasn't that hard," I said. "Um...was I not supposed to—er, mess with your work? I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"No, no, Toby! This is brilliant!" O'Shay laughed. "You've just saved me a month of headaches! Thank you, my boy, thank you!"

"Um...you're welcome." I grinned.

"It's just so amazing, that..." O'Shay studied the equations some more before looking up at me. "Oh, I just remembered why I came in here! Do you want green beans or broccoli with dinner?"

"Uh...either's fine with me." I shrugged.

He nodded. "Alright, then," he replied, walking back into the kitchen with the papers in his hands.

A few minutes later, the aroma of it wafted into the living room and made my stomach growl in anticipation. I looked over to the kitchen and through the open doorway, seeing his shadow as he cooked.

"Dinner's ready!" he called, coming out of the kitchen with a few plates in his hands. He looked like a waiter in a fancy restaurant—albeit an older one. He set the stuff on the table and motioned me over. I stood up and began over to the table next to the stairs, pulling out the chair closest to the couch and sitting down. Dinner was pork tenderloin with mashed potatoes and gravy, with broccoli as a side dish.

"Need anything to drink, Toby?" he asked.

"Er...water?" I answered.

"Alright," he replied, getting up and walking back into the kitchen. He reappeared a moment later with a glass of water in each hand. "Dig in, Toby!"

~O~O~O~O~

After dinner was finished, Dr. O'Shay led me upstairs, motioning to the door on the right of the hallway. "This is your room."

"M-my room?" I asked. "I get my own room?"

He nodded, leading me to the door. "You sure do! It's time I used up the spare room I have."

Once the door opened, I looked inside. The walls were a different color from the rest of the apartment, being a faded sunburnt orange color. The carpeting was an off-white, and it was extremely fluffy. The twin-sized bed was covered in a plain dark blue bedspread, the pillow both white and blue. Various other furnishings were littered around the room: a white dresser, a bright blue and white bedside table, a furnished oak wood desk in the corner of the room, which atop it sat a lamp that was on, dimly lighting up the room. There were also another two doors that led to both a closet and a spare bathroom.

I looked back at O'Shay with a smile and a laugh, hurrying towards the bed—my bed—and hopping in it, pulling the covers back and scooting inside.

"Goodnight, Toby," he murmured, turning off the desk lamp and leaving the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

I smiled to myself, burying my head farther into my pillow as I let out a sigh. Today had been very eventful! I discovered what my name was, and I had so many more questions I needed answered—although half of them had already been answered, as O'Shay had told me.

But...that still didn't explain why I had amnesia or why I was in that field...

I sighed, shutting down my mind and giving it a rest. I closed my eyes and slowly drifted off into sleep.

A/N: Alright, so let me know how you guys thought of this chapter! I'd really appreciate feedback. If you have any questions, feel free to leave a review and I'll answer them as best I can in the next update!