[personal profile] psifi872

John Black, you are not Roman Brady. Roman Brady is alive and is still a prisoner. Come and find him.

Roman, formerly known as John Black, glared down at the note in his hand. It had arrived in yesterday's mail and Roman knew he should just throw it away, instead of brooding over it. The words had been cheaply printed on common paper--the kind found in stores and libraries across the country. It figured. Whoever had sent the note was simply indulging in a sick joke that was hardly worth any effort. Roman told himself that vehemently, twisting the note up into a tiny ball and throwing it angrily into the trash can.

"Roman?" Marlena asked, entering the house just in time to barely miss being hit with the flying paper wad.

"Hey, Doc," Roman greeted, trying to throw off his tension and sound at ease.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Roman assured her.

"Well, you don't seem fine," Marlena told him, a bit pointedly. "What were you flinging around?"

"Just, um, nothing," he insisted. "Just a note, nothing important."

"That's a pretty strong reaction to nothing important," Marlena said, calmly. "What did it say?"

Roman took a deep breath, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in a nervous action Marlena knew all too well. Walking over to the trash can, he took out the note, unraveling it slowly. He didn't want to do this, but he knew from experience that keeping secrets was unhealthy...and tended to backfire horribly. Reluctantly, he handed the note to his wife.

Marlena read the note, frowning. She shook her head, folding the note carefully and laying it on a nearby desk. Going to Roman, she placed her arms around his neck, staring him firmly in the eyes.

"Now, listen to me. You are Roman Brady. You are my husband and I love you very much. I don't know who sent that note, but they're a liar...or just plain wrong. I know you."

"That's not the first note I've received," Roman admitted, placing his arms around Marlena's waist and leaning into her. "I know who I am, Doc, I do, but..."

"Have you tried to find out who sent the note?"

"No. I've just been telling myself it's a joke, some sick prank..."

"Well, it probably is," Marlena agreed, gently. "You won't know for sure, though, until you find out who sent the note."

Roman gave a sharp sigh, then nodded, smiling ruefully.

"You're right, Doc, as usual. I'll give the note to the guys at the precinct."


"No doubts at all, huh?" Roman asked, peering sharply at her. He knew he was Roman. He'd recovered enough of his past memories to be absolutely sure. Marlena's utter faith in his identity puzzled him, though. He didn't look much like the man she had married and his memory was certainly better, but far from whole.

"None at all," Marlena said, smiling with an almost smug serenity that made Roman chuckle.

"I love you, Doc," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her deeply.

"How many of those have you received," she asked, still feeling tension in his shoulders.

"Three. Last one came yesterday," Roman admitted.

"Mm. I just happen to have today's mail with me," Marlena said, handing the small stack of envelopes to Roman.

Grimacing, he took the pile, sorting through it. Sure enough, another plain envelope was in the stack. Roman's name and address had been typed onto a plain, white address sticker. He waved the note at Marlena, tossing the rest of the mail onto a nearby table. Opening the envelope, Roman read the latest note.

John Black, your blood type is O+. Roman Brady's blood type is A+. Come and find him.

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