Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A couple of days later I head over to the precinct to see if anyone can help me out. I head in and loads of people are saying 'hey'. Wow I must be well known. I say hi back even though I have no idea who they are. Huh. Heading down this corridor seems familiar, I stop outside a door saying Lt Bates. I knock the door

"Come in... Ah Deeks what's up. Why aren't you at NCIS"

"Um Lt I woke up from a coma 3 days ago and I couldn't remember anything. The doctor told me I was a detective, I had my badge so I came here. Figured you may be able to help me find out who I am"

"Right ok... Um... Give me a sec..." Lt Bates takes out his phone and dials someone's number. "Hey Hetty its Lt Bates... Yeah I'm fine. Look Deeks is here and he can't remember NCIS... Ok... Sure we'll cut off ties... Ok thanks bye." With that he hung up.

"What was that about?"

"Don't worry about it Deeks. You can look over some of you old cases, see if that helps then we can get you working arrest warrants till you think you're up to the task of doing what you do."

"What is it I do exactly?"

"You go in deep undercover operations to bring down anything from small illegal operations to drug cartels."

With that I say thank and leave, I walk to we're all the desks are and try to find mine. It's in the corner good means I can keep to myself and try and figure this situation out.

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I started working again one month and four days ago. I still haven't got any closer to finding out who I am. I know I'm a good cop, I've put a lot of people in prison.

Since I woke up one month and seven days ago, I haven't left this desk. Apart from one day I helped serve a warrant on some lowlife. That's as much excitement as I've had had.

I come to work every day hoping my memory will come back. Every night I stay awake trying to remember anything. Each night I get few hours' sleep at best, even if I try my brain won't shut down and let me rest. I'm sure I look like hell, but that's expected right. I have no bloody clue who I am?

I have this feeling like I'm missing part of my self but not my memory. I mean it feels like I can't be happy, part of my soul is missing and I have no idea how to fill it. If I don't get my memory back I don't think I will be able to go on for very long as I will never be able to be happy, it seems being happy is a massive part of who I am. I know that much.

I remember my childhood and going to university to study law but being a cop, I have no memory.

There seems to be something big going down. I want in, I need to do something. I walk into the briefing room. It's a raid on a suspected arms dealer. They pull up the suspects face. His hair brown and shaggy, his eyes ocean blue. He has an uncanny resemblance to me. His name. How can it be. I thought my father - Gordon Brandel - is dead. I shot him. I saw him bleed I may of been eleven but he looked dead, he must of survived. I wish I had killed him, I would of had no regret.

But no. He had another son, Matthew Brandel. This guy is my half-brother.