I know I took super long with this chapter, and I'm supposed to be taking a break from Wattpad rn but I can't help it, I need to write something and I needed to update something idk it's weird but I'm hoping to finish this book soon, so there may be just a few more chapters of this and idk where it'll go from there but oh well

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The button made a clicking noise as he pressed it, his eyes on the helicopter as it began to fly further into the sky, leaving him behind. For a split second, the world hung in silence.

Explosion. Explosion. Those first two were the only ones he could hear as his hearing departed, the floor of the roof underneath him being the second thing to go. Fear clutched his heart as he realized that these were going to be his last moments on Earth.

Somewhere around him, he heard the guards that were chasing him screaming, the clattering of their guns as they pounded against the falling debris. Eventually, the clattering died away, around the time sharp ringing began to sound in his ear drums.

"You'll be okay." He couldn't hear his voice, but he still whispered those words over and over, his voice most likely shaking as he got closer and closer to the ground. "They're going to be fine, don't worry about them."

Tyler. Someone who had given him help when he needed it, even though it was completely ridiculous.

Craig, a hacker who dropped his whole life to join him, even though it came with such a big risk.

Brock, who helped him even though he could have left him to die in that alley.

Marcel, the kid who just wanted a better life, he knew he gave him everything he could.

Lui, who honestly just came along with David because they're best friends and they trust each other and had no where else to go.

Jonathan, his boyfriend, his best friend, the soon to be leader, who he didn't even need to save but he couldn't help but succumb to those piercing blue eyes as they watched him save Max, Adam's member. He hoped he would be alright.

"Don't worry guys, I'm okay." He whispered even though no one could hear him.

His body slammed into the ground, a few of his bones crunched and pain flashed through him before he was surrounded in darkness, the last thing he felt being the weight of a large piece of the building.

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Evan rubbed at his rib cage, feeling the faint scars that ran along his skin underneath his shirt. Memory after memory struck him as he thought of what had caused them, nothing but pain. It was like an unspoken oath, those who shared a painful experience must stick together, that was the deal. He was unsure of how he could survive after everything that had happened, remembering how dark of a place he had been in before everything came crashing down. Literally.

Wait. He remembered. Everything. His emotions as the building came crashing down, the emotions that rushed through him as he made that final decision, the emotions that pushed him over the edge and made him commit essentially suicide. Yet, somehow he lived.

All the words he had told his friends, telling them to leave, to escape, to be safe and he'll take care of the rest, he remembered.

Pain. Both mentally and physically, he remembered it. He walked further, ducking under jutting pieces of metal and stepping over large bits of concrete. He came apart a small clearing, and he knew that this was where he had been found. Dried blood was spattered across the asphalt, rocks surrounding it also had splatters of crimson, some of them had drip trails of dark red, now tattooed to their grainy surface.

For a few seconds, he was back in his blank, unknowing state, and had to hold back his vomit as he looked at the blood. The moment was brief, yet powerful. Although soon, like a minute later, he is taken by surprise as he hears noises come from somewhere behind him. Instinctively, he dives into the debris, his right hand flying to his pistol and he presses against the large chunk of concrete, keeping his ears open as his eyes flick all around him, looking for possible escape routes and the visitor.

Briefly, he glances behind him, seeing a way out even though he didn't know what the threat was-he still kept his pistol faces forward, a finger on the trigger, ready to fire. Currently, he was sat down all the way, which was a mistake on his part since he needed to be crouched down in order to escape. Silently, he changes so that he is crouched instead, glancing behind him once again before slipping away through the opening he had seen.

He was walking briskly a few blocks away from where he had been, taking an out-of-the-ordinary route in order to avoid anyone who may have been following him, when the realization dawned on him. His right hand brushed up against the gun's holster, sending a shiver up his arm as he slips down an alley, suddenly needing space.

Then it hit him.

He knew everything. The stealth, the instinct, the quick decisions, the precautions, he remembered all of that. After months of trial and error, of personal isolation as he struggled to find the connection that he once had with his friends, who constantly looked at him with a certain degree of sadness and loss and grief, knowing that the person they were looking at wasn't the person they actually wanted him to be. All he wanted was to remember, and he finally had.

But, how could he get back to them, after shooting Jonathan in the leg? Jonathan, whose name now constantly appeared in his thoughts, and who was always considered with every decision he would make from here onward.

There's a scrape of a footstep against the concrete, and immediately Evan finds himself slipping through a doorway, his instincts taking over once again as he looks around the dark room he has now put himself into.

Crates. He could climb on crates, and he already is in the process of climbing by the time the thought is in his head. He goes slow at first, but then gets the hang of it as he continues to speed up, despite navigating in the dark. Once he reaches the top, he brushes against a catwalk that sits just above the doorway. After feeling the floor of it, he realizes that instead of being mesh, it's made of solid metal panels. He climbs onto it without a second thought, pulling out his gun.

His heart pounds against his chest, but it's not of fear, oddly enough, no, it's of adrenaline, pumping through his veins and that's how he confirmed that he had remembered everything. He wasn't scared, he had done much worse things than this, he wasn't scared, he was exhilarated.

Evan smiled, knowing that he had fulfilled the only goal he had set for himself when he first came home with the guys and he had no recollection of anything they had ever done together.

He had his memory.