Jack awoke in a hospital room, but this one was much more expensive and clean than the one his mother had been kept in after her accident. He felt a blur of movement in front of him, and a silhouette practically barreled into him, wrapping him in a hug.

“Oh, Jack! I’m so glad you’re okay! We thought…” That was the only thing she could manage to say before she broke out into sobs.

A burlier set of arms hugged him from the other side, saying nothing but sobbing. The woman had beautiful blonde hair, appearing to be in her late thirties or early forties and a face that looked at him with almost endless compassion. The man had a grizzled beard, bloodshot eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and tears and two burly arms whose warmth Jack could feel.

“Um, who are you?” Jack asked, completely confused to the point of being flabbergasted. “Where’s my mother?”

The woman looked so shocked at his response that she just stared blankly at Jack, while the man tightly clenched his fist, then released it, as if he were trying not to unleash violence on everything around him.

“Jack, do you not have any recollection when you see these two photos?” The doctor, dressed in white overalls and wearing a mask, showed him the photos of the two people who hugged him earlier.

“No,” Jack asked for the fifth time. “Where’s my mother?” Jack asked, a question that had been met with awkward silence the last time he’d brought it up.

“Well Jack, that is your mother,” The doctor replied, gently trying to break the news to little Jack.

“No, I mean my real mother. I told you-,” Jack, with his tone rising, replied.

“Jack, I understand. I know this might sound harsh… but you were kidnapped. You are a very brave boy, Jack. Don’t worry Jack. I understand it might be traumatic, but no one will look poorly for shooting your kidnapper. In fact, they will applaud you. They will respect your bravery. You are a hero, Jack. Now, the mind works in a funny way, Jack. The brain, when faced with extremely dangerous situations can manifest, no let me put it in a simpler manner, create certain personas to help you survive. We found no one else in that caravan, Jack. It was just you and that terrible man.” The doctor seemed to be struggling for the words, trying to explain it to someone as young as Jack.

“No! You… you don’t understand. My mother had red eyes and she said something about an Empy… Empra? I don’t know, but she was very powerful, like one of those superheroes. Give me a paper and I’ll show you!” Jack defiantly refuted, only being a twelve year child who didn't understand how outlandish his words sounded.

“Okay, Jack. Don’t panic, I’ll get you the paper,” The doctor empathetically replied, not at all dismissive of his claims.

A few minutes later, Jack had a paper and a crayon in his hand. He had asked for a pencil, but the doctor had refused for some reason. Anyway, he would show him.

Jack put the crayon on the paper and began to draw….

‘Huh…. How did she look like again?’ Jack tried to recall, but the memory just turned up blank. He could recall his time with Jim, but when it came to his mother the face was blurred. This… this was… impossible.

The crayon fell to the floor, as Jack stared at the doctor with shock and disbelief in his eyes.

“Ma’am!” The doctor called, and the blonde woman burst out of the door, hugging Jack while bursting out into tears herself.

It had been a few days since the incident, and Jack had come to know what his parents, the doctors, and the police believed to be the truth. Jack Smith, which was apparently his name now, had been abducted from his house one year ago. A frantic search was undertaken, but his kidnapper had fled to a different state. His parents had never stopped looking, spending money out of their own pocket to hire private investigators, putting out posters, and doing everything they could. Until Jack managed to make use of a loaded gun belonging to the kidnapper, shooting him. An anonymous call was called in a day later, where an unconscious Jack and a dead Jim were discovered.

The trauma and possible head injury he had suffered during that time had caused Amnesia, or at least that was the working theory his psychologists were going with.

For the next three months, Jack went through each and every type of psychology, counseling and healing session money could buy. He still felt disbelief at the thought that his entire life had been a lie, that they were just memories he conjured to help him survive the hell Jim had wrecked upon his life. Was that even possible? No. But then why couldn’t he recall the face of his mother? The grief they spoke of, the grief brought on by what he did to Jim, why didn’t he feel any of it. His musings, though, were interrupted by a loud, powerful, voice.

“Son.” The voice said, with an immeasurable pain hidden within those words.

“....Father?” Jack replied, unable to hide the tinge of doubt in his voice.

His father closed his eyes, releasing a breath before continuing, “ Son. I… have come to understand that you no longer remember me. I am here to tell you that it is alright. You are still my son. I still love you, no less than I loved you before.”

“Thank you, father…” Jack replied, the unfamiliarity in his words now tinged with a touch of gratitude.

“Before I leave, I have a gift for you,” His father’s face was facing away from Jack, as if he could not bear the shame he felt each time he saw Jack’s face.

“Yes, father?” Jack asked, curious, much like any other child of his age would be.

“Bring her in!” His father called out, and a man dressed in army overalls walked into the room, holding a tiny white baby kitten in her hands, her fur looking so soft, her tiny face so cute, that Jack’s hurt soul immediately reacted with a joy that felt unnatural, his eyes going wide with fascination.

He reached out his arms without even realizing how excited he was, and the man deposited it gently within.

“Her name is Luna.”

“So it wasn’t a lie…..” Jack said, as the memories crashed down onto him like a thunderclap. His entire life, he was told to forget that incident as a bad dream. His parents had switched states, he had received a new life where no one knew of him or his past. He had come to believe that he was Jack Smith, Son of George and Amanda Smith and the memories of the past felt like the dreams of a boy who had read too many comic books. He was trained to learn how to deny the past as it never existed, the medication and his young age helping him greatly with that.

The veil was lifted, and the truth could not be swept under it any longer.

With that, came revelations. Jack now understood what the reddish-black power he had encountered in the cave was.

And he had a feeling that the system wouldn't treat him very kindly if it knew what he was.