My Name Is Jack

by Exanora

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 1909

A griffon dream of a fire and saving... someone. He wakes up in a hospital with no knowledge of how he got there, or who he is. A simple note sends him on his way to recovering his past.

The story follows Jack, a griffon who, due to a series of yet unrevealed events, has lost his memories. The only thing he can remember is a dream of a fire and that there was someone he had to keep safe, no matter what the cost. Having woken up in a Manehatten hospital, he can't remember anything short of the dream, not even his own name. A mysterious note appears, leaving him with his name and an address, the first steps towards what he hopes is the recovery of his past.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-28 13:50:01 UTC

Waking Up

The warehouse was collapsing around us, the metal support were shrieking as they buckled under the weight of the falling building and the heat of the fire. I can't hear anything the rest are saying over the roaring flames and explosions that happened around us. I can see an exit, a hole punched through the wall by a fallen support and start turning us towards it. I look back at my group and shout, pointing at the hole, but they can't hear me. Their faces are blurred, but their bodies scream panic as a flaming piece of the roof falls and crushes one of them. Others want to try and save the one who got crushed, but I don't stay to watch, grabbing Her and running towards the hole in the wall. Flames jump out, biting at my sides and wings, burning me, but I do my best to keep Her safe as I dive through the hole.

We barely make it out before a large piece of flaming debris falls and blocks the way out, sealing the rest of my group inside. I feel guilty, like a monster for leaving them behind, but I had to save Her, at all costs. The world is fuzzy, I had inhaled a lot of smoke, making me lightheaded and incapable of doing much more than dragging the two of us as far away from the blaze as possible. I hear someone walking up to us and I turn to see who it could be. There are three of them, fuzzy, smudged, like someone had tried to wipe them away with a damp rag. Two of them come forward, one of them taking Her away from me, and I was too weak to stop them just barely capable of croaking a weak protest. The other one stood in front of me and leaned forward, her head touching mine, and everything turns a bright white, then... nothing.

.

..

...

“....-bilizing, he should wake up soon.” said a voice to my right. It was soft, female.

“Good, the guards have been wanting some answers.” replied another voice. This one was definitely male, sounded tired though.

I groaned and opened my eyes, immediately regretting my decision as the bright light above me stabbed into my eyes.

“Sir? Sir, please relax.” the female voice said, laced with concern, “Here.” I could feel something cool brought up to my beak. I opened up and could feel the cool, refreshing rush of water go down my parched throat. Somewhat revitalized by the water, I chanced opening my eyes again, wincing as the harsh light hit me again. As I blinked the surface beneath me began to shift, raising my torso and making me jump. My eyes now accustomed to the light, I was able to see the source of the voices. Two ponies, a unicorn and a pegasus, dressed in a labcoat and nursing scrubs respectively.

The pegasus in scrubs came forward and began to mess with some device that was beside me, “How do you feel?” The unicorn asked, coming up on my other side.

I looked around and saw that I was in a small room, a couple of machines that beeped intermittently beside the bed I was laying on. The room itself was bland, a mixture pastel blue and off white with a tile floor. The side opposite of the machines had a small table with a pitcher and glass full of water sitting on top of it. The pegasus beside me was an earthy green, his mane and tail were mustard colored, the colors clashing horribly with the blue scrubs he had on. The unicorn was looking at me with what I could only describe as professional concern. She had baby blue hair, the rest of her a soft red that bordered on pink, and her eyes, which were currently trained on mine, were a soft gold.

She stepped forward and waved a hoof in front of me, “Sir? Can you understand me?” She asked, he brow furrowing. I nodded and weakly reached out towards the glass of  water, though I couldn't do much other than fumble at it with my claw.

The unicorn smiled, her horn glowing as she brought the glass to my beak again, “Its good to see that you have your senses together.” When the glass was empty she looked at me again, a clipboard and quill floating in front of her, “Again, how do you feel?”

I coughed slightly to clear my throat, “Sore.” I croaked.

She giggled and nodded, “That's to be expected, anything else? Pains? Difficulty breathing?” She asked, jotting down some notes on her clipboard.

I shook my head and looked around again, “Where... am I?” I asked, shifting myself into a more upright position. The action, however minor, drained me of what little energy I had.

The unicorn, who I gathered was a doctor, put her quill and clipboard away, “Celestia's Mercy General Hospital in Manehattan.” She replied, nodding to the pegasus as he walked out the door, “You were brought here after being found at the site of a fire.”

Fire? My dream came to mind and I shot upright, “Where is She!?” I shouted, looking around.

The doctor stepped back, wide eyed as I looked over at her, “Where is She?! I need to keep Her safe!” I tried getting out of the bed, succeeding only in falling over onto the floor.

A pink aura surrounded me, lifting me up and laying me back on the bed, “I'm sorry Sir, but who are you looking for?” asked the doctor and despite her gentle tone, I could feel her magic holding me down.

I paused and blinked, “... I-I don't know.” I replied after a few moments.

The doctor looked at me with a raised eyebrow, “Sir, what is your name?” She looked at me curiously.

I fumbled around in my head, but nothing came forward, “I...” I slumped back into the bed, “I don't know.”

The sudden revelation had made me compliant and, after a few more minutes, the doctor released me from her magic. She asked me some questions addressing my health and state of mental well being. I answered what I could, though many of my replies were “I don't know.” After the questions were done the doctor began to poke and prod at me, using various tools to look me over, all the while jotting down notes on her clipboard.

“...What's your name?” I asked, making her pause and look at me.

“Doctor Daisy Chain,” she said, looking away uncomfortably, “Though most ponies call me Doctor Daisy.”

I nodded and looked down at my claws, “How'd I get here?”

Dr. Daisy flipped some papers over on her clipboard, “There was a warehouse fire and you were found just outside of the warehouse, or what was left of it. You had some nasty cuts, a lot of burns, lung damage, and a concussion, which I think is the cause for your current predicament.”

I looked down at my torso and noted the patches of fur that seemed thinner, as if they had grown in only recently, “How long have I been here?”

She paused, “Maybe... four months? Four and a half would be a better bet probably.” She corrected herself.

I looked at my claws again, opening and closing them, “Dr. Daisy... what am I supposed to do?” My gaze slid over to her, “I can't remember anything... What do I do?” My voice cracked as the reality of it all settled on my mind.

She frowned for a moment, then put on a practiced smile, “For now, you lay down and rest, all you have to do is get well enough to move around, then we can start you on physical therapy. I'll have someone look into helping you with your memory and, if worse comes to worst, a place to stay when you're discharged.” She paused as she looked at my chart, “Sir we couldn't find any records of you, which isn't odd given that you're a griffon, so what would you like to be called?”

I looked over at her and thought for a moment before responding, “Just Sir for now I suppose.” I shrugged and she gave me a sympathetic look. After a few more tests I was ready to close my eyes again, something that Dr. Daisy noticed and was more than happy to allow.

My time recovering, along with my time in physical therapy, was mostly made up of regaining lost muscle mass, since I had spent most of my time in bed, unconscious. True, there was some time spent keeping an eye out for any physical complications with my wings, but much of my time was spent doing exercises and trying to find some way to regain my lost memories. The staff, Dr. Daisy in particular, did their best to try and help with my recollections, but there were no results as of yet. While this was somewhat disheartening, I did what I could to stay cheerful. This became the routine I had fell into over the course of the next month: eat, exercise, try to remember, sleep.

I made my way down the hall, my sore muscles protesting each movement, but I was happy. Sort of. Today was the last day of my physical therapy and I was going to be discharged either tomorrow or the day after. Though the promise of finally being able to leave the hospital was exciting, I still couldn't remember anything about my past and that left me feeling more than a bit vulnerable. I got to the room I was staying in and went to take a quick shower and rinse off the thin sheen of sweat that covered me.

I stepped out and sighed contentedly, going over to the small sink to do what little styling I bother with. Looking into the mirror above the sink, I smiled: Dark brown fur gave way to gray feathers, the space around my gray eyes colored a dark blue that came to points and matched the smattering of dark blue flecks on my chest. My wings were the same dark brown as my fur, the tips matching the dark blue around my eyes and on my chest. I was fairly in shape, and I made it look good. I had heard a couple of ponies mention I was a handsome example of a griffon and decided to take their word for it, as I couldn't remember seeing any other griffons before and there weren't any in the hospital I could compare myself to.

I stepped out of the little bathroom and waked over to the bed, pausing as I noticed a plain white envelope sitting on top of the pillow. Cocking an eyebrow, I opened the envelope and read its contents. What I read made me freeze, then bolt towards the door and look up and down the halls. A passing earth pony nurse saw my desperate gaze and asked what was wrong. A minute later, I gathered that no one had seen who had left the envelope, which was inconsequential I suppose. Stepping back into the room, I laid on the bed and looked at the note which was comprised of an address and four words that gave me more hope than I'd felt since I woke up in the hospital:

“Your name is Jack.”