sixthiterationlogs | let's go back in time

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let's go back in time - ota

WHO: Cougar Alvarez
WHERE: Outside the bungalow
WHEN: October 18th, PM
OPEN TO: Jake | OTA
WARNINGS: Amnesia
STATUS: Closed

He dreams of his mother's voice. It's an old dream that's haunted him ever since the day a year ago that Carlos Alvarez had been kicked out of the house. Still, he wakes up yearning for the warmth of his blankets and his mother's voice summoning him to breakfast. Burrowing his face into the warmth beneath him, he sleepily tries to push himself into some more sleep. He may only be nineteen, but he's still riding that need for sleep right out of his teenage years.

It's that sleepiness that muddles his thoughts, which means it takes him a second to realize that he's not clasping a pillow beneath him, but someone's very broad shoulders. Blearily, Carlos opens his eyes and stares right up at a bearded man that he doesn't remember going home with.

He wouldn't. Well, maybe he would. After all, he's only been taking these risks for a little while, but he wouldn't drink so much that he'd forget. Glancing down, he finds himself in nothing but a pair of boxers and he frantically leaps back from the bed, tripping on the corner and stumbling to his feet as he stares down at the man with widened eyes.

"Who are you? Where am I? Did we go home last night?" he demands in Spanish, a rapid rattle of words as panic starts to set in.

He's quick to hurry out of that bedroom, but when he tries for escape, his foot comes across a box on the porch. Cautiously, Carlos looks down at it and when he sees his name on the cardboard, he opens it to find jeans, a light pink long sleeve shirt, and a tarp hat, weathered with many logos. He yanks it into his hands and changes in the kitchen swiftly, his stomach growling. He still needs to get out of here, away from the strange man in the bedroom upstairs before someone figures out what he's done.

If this gets back to his parents, then any chance of reconciliation is gone. Hurrying outside, Carlos shoves the hat onto his frizzing, short curls and starts to walk with his head resolutely on the ground, every step a stubborn one.

It's why he doesn't realize for a whole minute that he's not in California, that this isn't home.

The weather is brisk, sending a chill down his spine, and nothing around him makes sense. Suddenly, waking up in bed with a stranger that he can't remember isn't the only one of his worries and he's convinced that he's been kidnapped. He spins to debate going back and getting answers from the gringo, but he's not sure what to think about that man and the situation, so instead, he turns back to study the foreign ground in front of him.

Carlos is lost, without a school to turn to, without an army base to hide behind, and without any friends or family (though they abandoned him long before this). Feeling sick to his stomach, he feels his knees going a little weak as he struggles to find someplace to sit. In the end, he ends up on the very porch of the house he'd been trying to escape from, taking his hat off his head to wring it between his hands, the worry showing all over his face.

If only he could go home, but Mexico is even further than California and home doesn't want him back.

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Jake has been used to sleeping in close quarters for many years, but waking up snuggled up against another man is something he's had to get used to since he arrived in this place. It was a little weird at first, but it's been two months since they landed here, and a little less than that that he and Cougar have been sleeping together if you know what he means, and he's gotten pretty used to it. It's nice, now that the weather is turning, to have another body to curl up next to in bed, to share heat with.

It also does wonders to keep the nightmares at bay. And when it doesn't...well. Cougar can take a punch.

He's jostled awake when the weight on his chest — Cougar's head and shoulders — suddenly shifts away from him and the mattress tilts as he flings himself off it. Jake, somewhat used to this, just grumbles and rolls towards him, reaching out with his eyes closed. "Come back to bed," he mumbles. "I'm cold."

A stream of Spanish is his reward, which annoys him enough to crack an eye open and glare at Cougar in the pale pre-dawn light. "Dude. English in the morning, okay? You know I can't speak Spanish this early." He pats the bed invitingly, still warm from where Cougar had been lying all night. "Sleep now. Dormir más."

Carlos' eyes widen at the command, which is the only part he understands other than 'speak Spanish' and 'sleep' in both languages. He leans forward and pokes at the man in the shoulder, just to verify that he's real and not some ridiculous wet dream come to life that Carlos has somehow managed to will into being just by having too many fantasies he's jerked off to in the middle of the night.

He points at him, then towards himself. "Where did I find you?" he asks, his English extremely halting and heavily accented. "Bar? Did one of my friends send you to me? Did someone pay for you? Are you a hooker?"

Jake whines when Cougar jabs him, starting to feel very put-out by this performance. "Ow!" Rolling on his back, he struggles to sit up, propping himself up on one arm and rubbing his shoulder with the opposite hand as he squints at the blur that is Cougar on the other side of the bed. "Cougs, seriously, what the fuck."

Clearly, this is a conversation he needs to see for, so, heaving a sigh, he twists and fumbles around the bedside table until he can find his glasses and shove them on his face.

There. Now he can see. Now he can see Cougar's oddly frightened expression, and the scowl that had been brewing on Jake's face melts away automatically. "Hey, dude. It's okay." What is going on here? "It was just a dream, okay? You're fine. I'm fine. We're both fine. Veronica is fine. Stop making that face, man, you're freaking me out."

Carlos narrows his eyes and wonders what a 'Cougs' is, because that doesn't even sound like the English that he understands. Nothing about this makes sense and his lack of dress makes him wary, because he doesn't see the clothes he'd been wearing the night before anywhere near here. He'd paid a lot for those jeans, so he's going to be very put out if they're gone. "I don't speak much English," he says cautiously, an apology before the halting mishaps. "Who are you? Did we...sex?"

"You are not paid?" he struggles to find the words to ask.

"I know how much English you speak," Jake replies, feeling very, very confused. Is Cougar in some kind of sleep-walking state? This has to be him dreaming. Now that he has his glasses on, he can see every expression flit across Cougar's face, and while he likes to think he's able to read Cougar pretty well, all things considered, this is bad. Like, 'even Clay could tell what he's thinking' levels of bad. Cougar is practically an open book, and it's only the fear and confusion he sees in his team mate's (boyfriend's?) face that keeps him from snapping at him for indulging in this stupid fucking joke.

"Cougs—Carlos," he corrects himself, rubbing a hand over his face before reaching out towards him again, trying to keep his posture non-threatening. He huffs a small laugh through his nose. "I know I'm still figuring this shit out, but I didn't think I was that forgettable," he tries to joke, but the frown between his eyebrows probably belies that effort. "I mean, you pay me in breakfast..."

Edited 2016-10-20 01:34 (UTC)

Apparently, Carlos has trusted the handsome hooker (if he is one) enough to give him his name instead of a fake, which is something. He's being reached for, now, and while Carlos is still frowning (pouting is what his younger sisters would call it), he allows himself to be tugged back in, his brow furrowed as he settles into a sit, one leg wrapped around the man's waist.

"I don't know your name," he says. "Who are you?"

At least Cougar comes back to bed, even if it is incredibly reluctantly. Frantically, Jake tries to remember if he's hit his head recently; he doesn't think so, but Cougar wanders off on his own all the time, and is it possible this is just some kind of delayed brain trauma? He wishes he has his computers here so he could google this shit, although he knows from past experience that WebMD is more trouble than it's worth.

He settles his hands on Cougar's hips, resisting the urge to pull him too close. Something tells him it won't be welcome right now.

"It's me, Cougs," he whispers, shot through the heart at the honest confusion on Cougar's face when he asks his name. It probably shows clearly on his face, but he's too busy trying not to freak out right now to worry about what expression he's wearing. "Jake. Your Jake."

He's still frowning, but there's something like stubbornness in the glint of his eyes, seeing as now he knows this cannot be the case. "No," he says, laughing awkwardly, trying to laugh this right off. "No. If I have a boyfriend, then my family will not take me. I can still go back to them, maybe, they might still take me back if they think that I have repented," he rambles, mostly for his own sake as he stares at the man in front of him.

"I'm Carlos Alvarez," he introduces himself. "Hello, Jake."

If Cougar pretending not to know his name hurt, being told they definitely aren't boyfriends hurts more. It's something Jake has been trying to figure out how to bring up; sure, it seems like something of a moot point here, but labels are important, especially to a kid like Jake who's been kicked from house to house his whole life, never belonging anywhere, never belonging to anyone.

Not wanting to have this fight right now, he instead turns to his Army training and shuts that part of himself down, cramming it back into the crevice in the back of his mind where all his hurts and insecurities go. Think about it later, Jensen. Focus on the problem at hand first. Hurt feelings can wait.

"I know who you are, Carlos," he mutters, not doing all that well on locking down his emotions after all.

Luckily, Baby takes that moment to realize the humans are awake and decides to jump up on the bed, scrambling a little to keep from sliding off with the blankets before wriggling up to try and get in on the cuddle pile. "Baby, no!" Jake whines, but the dog knows he's hardly an authority here and promptly ignores him.

Edited 2016-10-20 02:41 (UTC)

Carlos laughs with delight when the dog launches itself onto the bed and insists on burrowing his way in. He's always loved the animals and he misses the family dog with the ache that comes of being pushed out and being away from him for a year. Ruffling his fingers into the dog's scruff, he hauls him against his chest to cuddle him in, grinning at the stranger over the top. "You have a dog? I love them, I haven't seen one since ..." Since home, since being kicked out.

"Baby?" he echoes, and kisses the dog on the head with a loud smacking noise. "It's a very good name for the dog, but I think maybe also a good name for you."

"Hey," Veronica calls as she clatters out the front door and quickly hops down the front steps beside Cougar, hands at the back of her head where she's tying her hair back with a bit of cloth.

"I think Frank wants to do a thing today, so don't freak if I'm not—" She falters mid-word as she reaches the front walk and half-turns toward him, thoughts jerked away from her like the cliché of a screeching record.

"¿Qué te pasa?" she asks, eyes rounding. She's never once seen Cougar look like this, not even that night when he'd almost hurt her. He looks almost scared, and fuck if that doesn't terrify her, too.

There is a very pretty girl coming out of the house that he'd just been in. He hadn't even realized someone else had been there, which makes him alarmed as he now wonders what kind of house he'd gone home to. Maybe he'd just been in the wrong bedroom the whole time? Only, Jake hadn't been very confused about what Carlos apparently was to him. It's just that Carlos is the confused one because nothing makes sense and he's missing so many memories.

"Do you know me?" he asks, sucking in a sharp breath before he starts to go on, his mind a cloud of worry and fear and anxiety. "I woke up and I was in this bed here, but the last I remember, I was in California and I was just trying to find a place to crash because my friends have a couch, but I don't want to stay too long." He inhales, his brow furrowing as he kneads the hat in his hands. "And then suddenly I'm here and I'm in a bed with some strange man and he says I'm his boyfriend..."

None of it makes sense, that's all he knows.

"Of course I know you—" Veronica begins, but finds herself swept away in a rush of rapid-fire Spanish that requires more than a moment to process. She stands there, blinking in bewilderment as the early-morning fog slips around her ankles, trying to sew up what he's said with what she can reasonably understand.

It's clear that he's freaked out, and that's freaking her out, but she knows this shit, they speak Spanish in the house all the time, and she thinks she's got some of the gist of it despite that it's a confusing and alarming picture. Is he saying he can't remember? How many times has she said it's fucked up that none of them can remember how they got in that fountain?

"Novio," she repeats, rolling the unfamiliar word around in her mouth, and shakes her head. "No me sé esa palabra. Compañero? Amigo?" She gives him a pointed, wide-eyed look. "Jake? You were in bed with..."

Veronica blinks, her head rearing abruptly back.

He blinks as she gives him English that he struggles to parse through, squinting at her and trying to figure out why there had been a man who seemed like he wanted him to come back to bed. "I don't know," he struggles to get out. He feels like he's already exhausted most of his English for the day and the whole situation doesn't make sense to him.

"I didn't drink that much last night, I know I didn't. I just wanted to go out with my friends," he pleads earnestly. "Where am I?"

Baby all but goes into a paroxysm of ecstasy when Cougar cuddles him close and kisses his head, overjoyed that his stricter papi is indulging in behavior he knows he shouldn't be displaying.

"You're fucking up his training," Jake whines half-heartedly, having been scolded by Cougar for this exact behavior enough times to know that it shouldn't be done. Even if he does indulge more than he admits, because his dog is fucking adorable, okay, and sometimes Jake needs to hug something soft and warm that loves him unconditionally.

The other soft and warm thing in his lap apparently doesn't, and in an effort to avoid dealing with the tangled mess of emotions welling up beneath his sternum, Jake lets himself fall back onto the mattress and stare up at the ceiling as Cougar and Baby get their cuddle on.

Carlos finishes with the dog, not letting him go very far at all as he digs in his thumb to the fur behind his ear, staring down at the man below him, a worried look on his face. He might not know who it is, or where he is, but he's handsome, seems to want Carlos, and looks very upset. He sets aside the dog and tries to pull a thread of memories out of his mind.

When none come, he decides that he should at least try and make Jake not look like this. Pushing down, the look on his face is tender and open, sliding a palm up Jake's chest as he straddles him. "Why don't I remember you?" he asks quietly, hating that his blackout night is making a gap. "How did I end up with such an older man? Someone so handsome? Strong?" he marvels, hands spanning the breadth of his chest.

Cougar has a weird, subtle sense of humor. Jake has known him long enough to be able to tell when he's being a dickhead prankster, though, and now that he's more or less totally awake, he's starting to get even more worried. Cougar might pretend not to know him as a joke, but he wouldn't keep it going for this long, not when it bothers Jake the way it does.

They've only got each other in this place, and they've got to stick together.

"Maybe you hit your head?" he offers, lifting his hand to cover Cougar's as he rubs it up his chest. "We've been together...a while." Maybe telling him they've known each other for nearly ten years isn't the smartest move.

"Not just one night?" Each word is a plodding heavy thing, like he needs to be careful and really assess whether he's understanding it right. His eyes glaze over slightly as he sinks in the straddle, his shoulders rounding in a defeated manner. "But I only came out a year ago, I only told them about that a year ago, and I moved only three months ago. Last night, I was single," he says, his voice starting to rise in panic and terror.

What's happened to him?

"Search me," he coaxes, bowing his head forward insistently, pointing to it. "Is bump?"

There are days where Raven feels like herself, and then there are those where she needs to remind herself of whom she'd been before. Today's one of those days. Her red jacket doesn't quite feel as soft and worn as the one she'd been wearing on the ground in Arkadia, but she wears it over her grey scrubs and pretends like it's the exact one from home.

She walks around the town, despite there being a slight ache in the arch of her foot, as she ensures to remind herself she can move her left leg freely and without any assistance from a brace. Going for a long walk, she eyes the bungalows, some she's snuck into to take bits and pieces of what another would deem rubbish from.

Seeing a familiar figure sitting outside of his own home, there's a slight skip to her step as Raven's entire demeanour brightens. Cougar's quickly become someone Raven enjoys seeing and hearing from, even if it's the back of his head while he visits the inn and she ducks upstairs to disappear and get back to work at building something she doesn't quite know what it'll become just yet.

She smiles as she approaches, and calls out, "Hey, Big Cat. Sunbathing?"

From far away, his sight fails him (his laziness in not caring, really) and he thinks maybe one of his younger sisters is coming to collect him home, because Mama has finally had enough and decided that his father's decree will no longer stand. When she is closer, though, Carlos realizes that it's not anyone he knows and the disappointment shows when his face falls.

Worse, she's speaking English too. He knows enough to understand, but it's exhausting not being able to speak back properly. "No bathing," he says, not sure what she'd meant by 'sunbathing', why she's addressing him like she knows him, or why such a pretty girl like this is wearing such strange clothes. He points to her, then to himself. "You? I? We know?"

"Yeah …" Raven's brows crease as she looks him over. She doesn't know Cougar as well as she does the kids from the Ark, but she likes to consider she's sharp enough to know when someone's acting strange.

This isn't a joke. She doubts Cougar's capable of such an unfunny thing, even though she suspects his sense of humour is as dry as the ground when the sky refuses to shed any water for days on end.

She approaches, her step a lot slower than before. She breaks into Spanish instead of English. "Yes. I'm Raven. Little Bird? Remember?"

His blank look in reply is probably answer enough, seeing as he hasn't got a clue what she's talking about. It's sheer relief that floods him when he hears Spanish, though, the sound of happiness bubbling off his lips right before he launches into his own steady stream. "I don't know what any Little Bird is, I don't know where I am. I went out last night to the bar, but I don't remember going home with anyone or drinking this much."

"But I wake up here, and there's another man in my bed and he says he's my boyfriend." He thinks the panic in his eyes is a wide, desperate thing. "He's very handsome, of course, and very sexy, but I don't know how I got him." Inhaling sharply, he gives her a worried look. "Where am I?"

That's a whole lot of Spanish being thrown her way. Raven doesn't interrupt — it's easier to focus on what's still unfamiliar for her to be able to hear and speak without it littering bits of someone else's English — and her brows furrow as she tries to piece everything together.

That's what she does best. Pulling everything together.

"Some town." The question grates her just as the 'where are you from?' one does. Raven doesn't know enough to give anyone any definite coordinates. It's a town, one she wouldn't expect to ever see back home. "You really don't remember the fountain?"

He stares at her blankly, not sure why she would be talking to him about a fountain. Is everyone here crazy? Is that what's going on? "Why would I remember a fountain?" he snaps, rolling his eyes with all the irritation a nineteen-year-old can feel. "I woke up in a bed, with a man," he says heavily, trying to point out the oddness of that.

"And he says he knows me!" Carlos finds this the most ridiculous. "And you, now? I don't know anyone. I don't know anything here. Why was there a box with my name on it? With clothes that fit me perfectly? Have I been kidnapped?"

Suddenly, Veronica feels very, very young. She doesn't see Cougar as a father figure, he's not nearly old enough for that, but it's that same helpless, stomach-dropping feeling of realizing that a parent isn't invincible. Seeing your mom or dad in the hospital or truly frightened. He's so confused, and she's little better.

Something's obviously wrong, and she has no idea what to do.

"Cougar," she says, and drops her bag so that she can kneel in front of him and take his hand in her own. "Do you remember me at all?"

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