"....so....you're going after Crey."

"I don't see that I have much choice, Lin." The scrapper threaded his metal fingers together, leaned his metal chin piece against them. "I've made some attempts to find someone named Jonathan Norman in California, but it's a big state, with a huge population. I've already found several of them, and there's no guarantee any of them are the *right* Jon Norman. I think I've about exhausted that line of inquiry. I still have to look up the family records for the Normans....births, deaths, marriages, divorce decrees....but I'm not sure how far I can go with that. I mean, it'll be nice if I can find out more, maybe even find some connection for myself, and if there is one, see if I can find any surviving members....but that's not going to help me find out what happened to *me*." He held up a metal hand, fingers spread, in mute testimony. "Chances are, even if I am a Norman, I probably just disappeared....like that other Jonathan did. They probably would have no more idea what happened to me than I do. I had Rachel Torres look up the information I had, and no one named Norman reported any missing family members in or around Salamanca after the time when I was born that matches up with my approximate age."

"And Paragon?"

"Lots of missing person's cases....but none named Norman that match my approximate age, all are either much younger or much older."

"Jon.....are you still having nightmares?"

He dropped his eyes, stared at the floor. "If anything, they're worse. Finding things out seems to be bringing a bunch of stuff to the surface. I still can't remember them....they vanish as soon as I wake up." He shook his head. "I don't know if I *want* to remember. But I guess I have no choice, either way. Either I'll remember them, one day, or I won't."

"And the headaches?"

He sighed. "At least that seems to be getting better. I'm not having to take anything for them nearly as often."

The elven woman listened solemnly. "So....what do you need us to do for you, Jon?" she asked.

"There's this kid....I see him now and then, and I've been trying to help him out, a bit. He calls himself Quake. He's an earth-mover, has teleportational powers. I think he's a Rikti orphan, he doesn't talk about himself, mostly won't answer personal questions, but I think he's living on his own. If anything happens to me, Lin, I need to know that someone will be looking out for him."

"We can certainly do that, Jon. Do you want us to induct him into Starfire?"

"Only if you think he'll fit in, Lin. I'm not asking you to admit him, just have the guys keep an eye out for him. If he gets into trouble, help him out."

"Of course, Jon, you know I'd be happy to do so....and I'll ask the other Starfire people do the same."

"Thanks, Lin." He stared into space.

"Anything else?"

He sighed. "I just....well....I guess you guys are the closest thing in the world that I have to a family, now. I just wanted someone to know what's going on....in case something happens....I don't want to just disappear from the face of the earth, so that no one knows I was ever even here."

The blonde-haired woman leaned forward, placed a warm pink hand over one of his cold grey metal ones. "That won't happen, Jon. It can't. You cannot be forgotten."

Copyright terraforming.com, November 26, 2012