[ voice ]

[philosopher]

[The voice being recorded is both hushed (out of respect for the speaker's present environment) and weak (for reasons yet to be explained).]

Diane, it's... 6:36 pm on May 17, 2012. By my calculation, that means I've been asleep for... two hundred and seventy-nine months. Twenty-three years have passed since my last recording, Diane, and I have to say: I look pretty great for my age.

The last time I remember speaking to you, it was from the floor of my room at the Great Northern Hotel and I had just been shot. I don't remember a whole lot else, but the doctors tell me I've lost quite a bit of blood so that's to be expected. I feel both frustrated and grateful. Grateful to be alive, and frustrated because the investigation is facing yet another setback.

"Setback" may be an understatement. Diane, you are not going to believe this. As I just told you, it's been twenty-three years. That's twenty-three years in the blink of an eye. They tell me I've traveled through time, and that's apparently a common occurrence around here. Here being the city of Siren's Port, Canada - that's an island off the coast to the west of Vancouver, Diane. Have you ever heard of a place like that? I sure haven't.

The frustrating part is that my ticket was one-way. Preferable, yes, to the other one-way ticket I was facing - but gosh I really felt it. I was on the verge of something. Will I ever know who killed Laura Palmer?

[There's a pause and murmuring in the background, along with the squeaking of a cart being rolled into the room.]

- Ah, more on that later, Diane. Nurse Irene is here.

[Click.]

Comments

[philosopher]

[Nothing dangerous. He finishes his jello quickly, then neatly sets aside both the cup and the spoon.]

Ah! That hit the spot. Thank you.

[inthejunk]

[Yosuke takes the cup and spoon back a little warily. Man, you sure don't act like a psycho killer or anything.]

I just got out of jail, you know.

[...Stupid. That was stupid. He should have just taken the dishes and left. But since it's too late for that, Yosuke gets out of the chair and stands, back straight, going for his full height. He puffs his chest out the best he can, and tries to look intimidating.]

[He probably just looks intrigued, and a little freaked out, though.]

[philosopher]

[He notes that but doesn't react to it. Not very intimidating, Yosuke.]

Really?

[inthejunk]

Y-yeah.

[Crap. Where is the spoon again? Oh, right. In his hand. Good. Okay, cool.]

Where did you, uh...you know. Get shot? Who did that? How did it happen?

[philosopher]

In my hotel room. I can't remember the face of the perpetrator.

[inthejunk]

Not at all?

[He drops into the chair again, apparently forgetting about the shanking risk for the time being.]

You know, my friend's uncle is a detective, and he was working on this murder case in town before I left. Two murders, actually. Maybe what you need is a detective.

[philosopher]

I'm a detective. An FBI agent, actually.

[inthejunk]

[Squeak!]

Wait, what I said about stealing a car, I didn't mean-

[Oh, shit. He hadn't actually said that until now, had he?]

Look, you can't- that wasn't a confession, okay!

[He pulls up the leg of his scrubs and mournfully shows off his tracing bracelet.]

See? It's -that's double jeopardy!

[philosopher]

[He raises a hand to silence Yosuke.]

Canada is outside my jurisdiction.

[inthejunk]

[See, technically this isn't Canada. It's just near to Canada. But since pointing that out might be a bad idea in this situation, Yosuke doesn't. He's slightly smarter than he comes off, apparently.]

Right.

[Sigh.]

I didn't, you know. Steal it, I mean. I just...I borrowed it. I didn't even put a scratch on it.

[philosopher]

You won't do it again, will you?

[inthejunk]

Didn't you see it?

[Yosuke taps the box strapped to his leg, and sighs.]

I'm not going anywhere without someone knowing it anytime soon. Besides, I didn't even mean to do it the first time! [Huff.] It just kind of happened.

[philosopher]

I believe you. You don't seem the thieving type. I don't think you'll steal anything else, even when you're off probation.

[inthejunk]

I won't. [Sourly. Sorry, Coop. He's back to being surly again, that brief thing where your gunshot wound was cool has already worn off. Now life is just so unfair again.] I've never stolen anything before! Not even a piece of candy! They were just jerks about it because I have a prior record.

[Oh, wait. That sounds bad.]

Uh. But that was a misunderstanding, I swear.

[philosopher]

What happened?

[inthejunk]

[He glances around nervously, just to make sure no one else is headed this way first. Then he leans in, closer, and whispers.]

It happened here, in this hospital. My friend was here, because...uh. He had a bad day, you know? His-his best friend left. Went home, I mean. And, you know, he kind of....he just had a bad day.

[Yosuke shrugs. He doesn't know a polite way to say nervous breakdown, so 'bad day' it is.]

Anyway, someone had to help him, right? SO I did.

[philosopher]

In what way?

[inthejunk]

Uh. You know. He had something in his arm. Drugs, you know? So I helped him take it out. It was kind of cool, actually. Blood sprayed out! Did you know it does that? Well, it does.

[He's getting more animated, now, even though he's still trying to be quiet.]

I tried to help him get out, too, before they took him to the fifth floor, you know? But that guy is huge. [Eyeroll.] We needed a wheelchair, too, because he was really doped up, you know? But it still would have worked if they hadn't stopped the elevator on us.

[philosopher]

Don't you think it would have been better for him to stay and receive treatment?

[inthejunk]

[Judging by the look on his face, that option never really occurred to him. Yosuke frowns.]

He wanted to go home. And he wasn't crazy. Like I said, he just had a bad day. And they drugged him. He thought I was someone else at first, it was that bad. You know?

[philosopher]

I understand that must have been very alarming. However, the medication was likely treating his disorientation, not causing it.

[inthejunk]

Nevermind, you wouldn't understand. And neither did security. Anyway, it's fine. That was just a misdemeanor, so it didn't really stick. My friend paid the bail and I got to leave the same day. That's how it works.

[Right? Isn't it?]

You know. You look out for your friends, and then they look out for you.

[philosopher]

Sometimes looking out for your friends means making sure they get the help that they need.

[inthejunk]

Yeah, sure, but that wasn't what he needed. [Shrug.] He needs people to leave dirty socks on the floor and ask him when dinner is. That's what makes that guy feel better. If you make him take it easy, he gets really agitated instead. Besides, he called and asked for help. When I called him and asked for help, he came to help me.

[philosopher]

Did that truly help you?