I am not sure exactly what got me into actually keeping a journal of sorts, but it I'd say it was during the second year that I started working with Amanda King. It's funny, when I say that name, even now, a thousand recollections flow into my head.

She always used to tell me `You know Lee, if you won't talk to me, then maybe it would help to get your thoughts down on paper.' I guess I heard it enough times to actually start to do that. I mean besides Billy, there wasn't really anyone else to tell my thoughts or feelings to, sad, as it is to say.

So as I sit here in the hospital bed, one of the many we might say, I am forced to remember and to write. This is the only place where I can write down what I really feel; I don't have to hide behind the mask of Scarecrow the invincible, the person who doesn't need anyone, a loner, someone who always gets the job done.

I have grown to dislike that person. I guess that means I have grown to dislike myself, in many ways I guess that is right. Who in his or her right mind wants to be alone, who doesn't want anyone to love, to come home to at night, to share life with?

I did, for a long time, but for the life of me I can't figure out why. I was just going one day at a time, taking life moment by moment. Doing what had to be done.

Don't get me wrong; I have had many women, acquaintances, andflings. But none of them really cared about what was going on with the real me, only if I was free that night for whatever they had plans for. I guess I am getting into a bit of history here, but what can I say, I am board out of my mind here. Can you believe it; no visitors have come to see me, well except for Billy and Francine. They came asked me what happened and told me to rest. So I have been resting here for two days now and the one person who I wanted to come here hasn't showed up.

I guess that makes me feel sad, depressed, and unsecure with relationship I thought we had. Which as of lately isn't much, I have done nothing but throw in her face how I don't need anyone, especially her. How she isn't a partner, that I don't need her. How wrong I was.

I suppose I should get this written down, while it is still fresh in my memory, like I am ever going to forget what was said between us. Ha I never will.

It all started last week; Billy called us into his office. Now I know this is my personal I journal, but what's official is official and I can't write the specifics down. I never know who might read this, ya know. Anyway.

Billy called Amanda and myself into his office last Tuesday morning. He was acting really strange for some reason, you know dancing around the subject and acting all suppositious. Billy has never in the time I have known him done that. Amanda and I looked at each other for a moment then each of us sat down in the chairs opposite Billy.

I said something along the lines of "What's up Billy." He just looked at me with the grim look on his face. I didn't know it was going to be that bad, although I should of.

"Mr. ***** is back in town Lee." Billy told me grimly. (I can't put the actual names rules are rules)

"What? When?"

"Yesterday, he was reported being seen coming in through Dulles."

"Great." I wasn't happy, I am still not happy.

"Who is Mr. ****?" Amanda asked innocently as she stole a glance at me then turned to Billy when I didn't even answer her. Billy didn't answer her right away either, which bothered her a great deal. Please do not under estimate Amanda King, if she wants something she is going to go after it.

"Okay, since you guys didn't seem to hear me the first time, who is Mr. ****?"

I still didn't answer her, and this got her even more upset. I had been getting really good about talking to her more, discussing things more with her. I think this seemed like I was regressing to my old self. It wasn't like that at all.

"He was, or is a Russian fugitive that Lee had captured three years ago," Billy paused and motioned over to Amanda, "Just before he met you."

"And?"

"I am not allowed to tell you most of it, regulations. But it was a awful case, people... were... killed," He looked over at me this time, I wasn't watching Billy, but I could feel his gaze on me. "That shouldn't have been."

"Oh." Amanda said as she looked over at me. I knew what she was thinking, wondering about. I really didn't want to talk about this, especially with her. I was not looking forward to the game of twenty questions we would engage in when we returned to the Q Bureau.

A bit later, we discussed what should happen in the retrieval of Mr. ****. It was uncomfortable for all three of us. You could say that you could cut the tension with a knife.

You know I never meant to betray Amanda like I did with this. There was always something about her that for some odd reason I trusted; that I felt a connection with, even in the beginning.

When Billy finally dismissed us, I waited till Francine leave and then Amanda got up, take a look at me, and a said something to the fact that I'd see her upstairs or something. She left with a nod, and that was the last time I saw her that day. And believe me she tried to find me.

When she left I turned to Billy, he already knew what I was going to ask, but let me speak anyway.

"I don't want her on this Billy."

"Lee, she is getting to be a great Agent, you need her."

"No, I don't Billy..."

"Listen, she is your partner, she is to help you on this."

"I can't..."

Billy came over to me at that point; he lay a hand on my shoulder, knowing that I wouldn't be getting strength from my usual source this time around. I know I was slowly falling apart, and the case hadn't even really started.

"You are going to have to do the best you can Scarecrow, we are all here to help."

"I know." I couldn't say anything else; there was nothing else that could be said so I left.

What I did next wasn't what anyone expected of me I guess. I left. I went out to my car and drove away and didn't look back. Its funny really, I mean there is an international killer out there, looking for me. And where do I go? A cemetery, with no cover, no protection for me. It doesn't matter though this is something I needed to do.

Not many people know what exactly happened all those years ago with this case, I am not even sure Billy does. It is still hard for me to deal with. Its like a part of me was ripped away, that there was nothing I could do to stop it. There wasn't in actuality, I was helpless. I wanted for it to be me and not her; a thousand times I have prayed that the roles were reversed. I still wonder why, even today why no one has ever given me that answer. Why?

So back to the story; I sat there must have been hours, at least it left like it to me. For some odd reason I had to tell her that he was back, that her murderer was back in town, that he was still alive. I felt awful, like it was something that could have been helped, but wasn't. I felt like that rookie cop sent to inform the parents of a young girl that she was dead and the murderer was still out there, somewhere. I cried that day, amongst the shade of the giant oak tree and the flowers. When was I ever going to get this right?

When the sun decided to set on the day, I looked over at her grave, at the flowers I had rested there for her, I smiled and told her I would get him once and for all. I wouldn't make the same mistake again this time.

After that I headed for home. I knew that Billy, Francine and most likely Amanda had left several messages on my machine already, wondering why I left, where I was, was I okay? Was I okay, now that was the million-dollar question? Deep down I knew I wasn't truly okay, but there was more to it, I just didn't know what it was.

Cop it up to being male and not really knowing ones true self. But does anyone know his or her one true self?
I can think of one person.

Work I knew was pointless at this point tonight. I was tired, I had to think of what to do, how to find Mr. ****, and do it without Amanda's help, and probably without the Agency's help for that matter. So I stopped off and picked up something to eat for dinner, although I wasn't hungry and a bottle of wine.

You know she got me into drinking it. Not Amanda, she doesn't have any idea of what a little hobby I have gotten myself into. When I picked up the bottle, I was instantly reminded of a time we used to go together, lightly holding hands and laughing, knowing full well what was to come that night, and probably the next as well. That memory still brings a smile to my face, even after all these years. As I walked through my door my suspicions were correct, the light was blinking defiantly on my answering machine. I know I let out a long sigh and thrugged into my kitchen on the search for a wineglass. After I put the food into the oven and poured my second glass I went over to the machine and hit play.

The first was from Francine, telling me that I was needed at work. The second was Francine again asking where I was. The third was from Billy telling me to come in then asking if I was okay. The last message was from Amanda.

"Lee" She said, "Where are you? Is everything alright?" She paused in only a way she could, "Well it seems like you aren't there or you are just ignoring this. Sorry to bother you." And she was gone. Bother me? How on each could she bother me? I know when we first met, she did bother me (I hate that word by the way, seems so childish) a little bit. I mean she was so, I can't explain it really, she was just herself, true to the bone. There were no secret with Amanda King, what you saw is what you got.

I slumped back into my sofa listening to her voice; for some reason it helps me relax, feel safe. I have no idea why, I have told her many times that there is nothing between us, that there never will be. Who am I trying to convince her or me? As I reflect on this question, I am stunned by the answers that I found. When I need comfort or just a friend she is always there. I fell asleep there on the sofa that night and did I ever pay for it in the morning.

The next day for some reason I slept late. I never sleep late.