By Flashpoint
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The noise of the crowd was giving Andy a headache. He never got headaches. Ever. Even when the music in the bar was cranked to top volume. But then, he didn't usually have to handle the whole bar by himself either. Where was Jake? He'd been gone nearly an hour!
To make matters worse, there was the slight issue of who was paying attention to what. Andy had learned to like being the center of attention once his weight had so drastically increased, and it had only gotten better since he'd been gaining on his own. Tonight, however, was a horse of a very different color. So far in the past half hour, no one had even glanced at him, and one patron getting his drink had called him Alan. It was only mildly annoying, but in some ways he felt like someone going through drug withdrawal. Then again, he had to admit that the scene happening in the middle of the floor *was* a bit distracting.
Andy felt a stirring of lust in his fat-encased cock as he surveyed the man holding the leash. He was "very well set up," as Andy's Victorian grandmother would have said; lean and well-built, with just enough salt-and-pepper in his hair and beard. His face was rather craggy, but in a sexy way that spoke of long years and experience. The sexy gravel of his voice was enough to put a boy on his knees. Like the boy currently there.
Watching a fattening was always fascinating to Andy, partially because it brought back memories of his own, and partially because the process itself was interesting in a purely intellectual way. He was sure that he understood the concepts (for the most part), but as far as how the process itself functioned...? Jake could probably explain it in non-technical terms... if he could remember how. The things he was doing were on such a subconscious level that he might as well be sleepwalking.
In a way he was.
Andy took a few minutes to quietly set up the cameras to focus on the Daddy and his boy. He felt fairly sure that neither of them would mind. They'd probably appreciate a memento of this occasion, when the boy would be initiated into the world of mass. Besides which, both Jake and the Boss liked having the videos on hand for "viewing entertainment."
The boy was on his knees, his nude carved physique sharply accented by the lights. Andy felt a pang of envy; when Andy had had a much smaller body, he'd never looked like that. But it hardly mattered now; Andy was now living in a huge mass that spilled in all directions and he was happy as long as Jake was happy.
The boy had been uncollared for this and given wide berth by the huge men around him. No one was really sure how big he was going to get. "Please, Daddy," he said, looking up at the handsome man in front of him. "I have wanted nothing more than to be Your fat pig boy, to bloat for You, to eat and eat and eat until my fat rolls hang down and my ass spreads three feet wide. I want to be eating all the time and drinking gainer shakes when I'm not. I want to be kept in clothes too small for me so that my belly hangs out and I have to lift my fat out of the way just to take a leak."
Daddy Alan listened to his litany with no expression for a long time, but when the boy came to a halt, he knelt down a little until they were looking eye to eye. "Jason," he began, which puzzled Andy for a moment, before realizing that his given name could hardly be 'boy.' "No roles for now. Just Alan and Jason for now." Jason nodded. "Do you completely realize what it is that's at stake here? You've got a hot body, and lots of guys would kill just to look *at* you, let alone look *like* you. Once I give you this," he held up one of Jake's flasks, "there isn't any going back. You'll be obese for the rest of your life. Are you sure that this is what you want?" He paused for a moment. "Don't do this for me. You'll have to live with it a lot longer than I will." Jason started to protest, but Alan cut him off. "Jason, don't be that way. I'm 30 years older than you. I won't live forever and we both know it. When I'm gone I don't want you stuck with a situation that you'll regret. For that matter there's a more than good chance that you *won't* outlive me. Heavier people tend to have shorter lives. Do you want to face that possibility?"
Jason rocked back on his heels. "Alan, I love you more than I love life itself. It pleases me to become what you find sexually arousing in a man. No, let me finish. When you wanted me to be not just your lover but also your boy I was overjoyed. I've worked hard to please you in that capacity ever since, shining your boots, lighting your cigars, servicing you and your buddies, whatever, because pleasing you pleases me. Now, that being said, before you came along I didn't even know that anyone would *want* to become fat, but when you told me your fat fantasies for me, I got so turned on that I was determined to put on weight. After awhile, I realized that it made me happy even by itself, even if it never seemed to work." He gave a wry look. "Now there's a chance that it will. Yes, I know that I'll be a fatass for the rest of my life and I look forward to it. I'm no fool, Alan. I know the risks and I don't care. Better that I live a short, happy life as a heavyweight than a long, mediocre one as a toothpick. And if I don't outlive you, or if not by much, then we'll be together again that much sooner."
The room was utterly silent when he finished. Several guys looked moved. Alan himself looked very close to tears. This beautiful boy was giving him everything; his body, his life, his heart. Andy blinked away the sudden blurring of his own eyes. Damn that cigar smoke, he thought, waving the air around his head. The fact that no one had one lit in his immediate vicinity he ignored.
Alan leaned forward a little and gave a deep, passionate kiss to Jason, which was returned with interest. Then he pulled back and stood up. "Then let's get started, pig boy." The Daddy was back in full force. He took a step back. "After today, you're going to need a feed bag." He reached out and helped the boy to his feet. Then, Alan held the flask and in front of him. "Head up. Mouth open. That's it." The boy obeyed instantly. Daddy Alan opened the flask and looked inside. Whatever it was he saw, it made him smile. "I'm going to make a man out of you." And with that, he hauled the flask up and tipped it into his boy's willing throat.
Andy was impressed; the boy had obviously had training to eliminate his gag reflex, because the flask was being poured directly in and down his throat without him swallowing and it was not a small flask. He was easily pouring a good quart and a half size bottle, and it was going down with no resistance. Then it was gone and he was shaking the last drops out. Finally, he stepped back and the boy lowered his head, all smiles. He ran his hands over his chiseled chest, carved abs, and rock-hard biceps and the look in his eyes said that he was bidding them goodbye with no regrets.
Then Andy saw that he was not so chiseled any more. In fact, the ridges of his abs and chest were filling out rapidly. He kept feeling his body, slowly recording the experience with his hands as his musculature slowly became buried. And the whole time he kept eye contact with his Daddy and lover, the love in his eyes a tangible presence in the room.
The change was not abrupt, but the realization of it was; Andy was suddenly aware that the boy had gone from a swimmer's build to a wrestler's build... an out of shape wrestler. His chest and shoulders were no longer lean, but thick, and his face had lost its angular look and was rounding out as well. His abs were gone and a slight paunch had formed over it, complete with love handles. His thighs were no longer striated and his calves were inflating. And even that was only for a moment. The slight paunch became a substantial one almost immediately and the love handles were sagging. His chest was sagging downward and outward as well, becoming puffy. His smiling face was definitely piggy now; his cheeks were rounded out and his eyes looked a bit sunken, and below that he was forming a definite second chin. And then a third one, as his neck became buried in flab.
Andy's cock was no longer stirring; it was rock hard, pressing forward somewhere deep in his rolls of flesh. He wanted to dig for it to stroke the head (that was about all that he could reach without work), but it would take time and he didn't want to take his eyes off of this erotic scene. He contented himself by grabbing the fat rolls on either side of his belly and moving them back and forth in front of his crotch, feeling the stimulation as it bumped back and forth against the head. He usually had his pants unbuttoned and unzipped while working; it allowed his fat to swing free more comfortably and the added stimulation kept him horny for hours. The suspenders not only kept his pants up but made his rolls more obvious too.
The boy's belly had rounded out a good foot in front of him and was still going, now no longer fighting gravity but forming a low hanging curtain of flesh that avalanched toward his rock hard cock, threatening to bury it. His love handles were the size of turkeys. His legs were now each round cylinders of flesh that looked like overstuffed sausages, ready to burst at a touch.. and still growing. His ass was keeping pace with the rest of it as well. It wasn't quite three feet wide, but he would definitely fill more than one bar stool now. Even his fingers had become thicker and rounder, as they traveled over the new mountains and valleys of his body.
Daddy Alan stood staring, his mouth hanging open in amazement and lust and his cock threatening to burst out of his leather pants. Almost automatically, He brought his cigar back up to his mouth and relit. With unmistakable fire in his eyes, he blew a large cloud of smoke toward his now massive boy, who inhaled greedily. The tension in the air of the bar was palpable. There was murmuring and the sounds of sex going on, but still no one wanted to interrupt the energy of the place, energy that was all going toward inflating this boy to enormous size.
Then, almost imperceptibly, the growth slowed. The boy looked dazed, still roaming his hands over his new expanse, and there was a lot of expanse to explore now. He ran his hands over his soft chest and round, sagging middle, and down to where the belly dropped at its lowest point... and it turned out to be beyond his reach. He reached under as much of it as he could and raised it up, looking in his Daddy's eyes with a smile, and let it drop. It hit his crotch with a loud smack. He took one step forward, opening his mouth... and was hit with a burst of growth. Andy smiled to himself; this was one of Jake's jokes. Let them think it's over and then hit them with a last balloon growth right at the end. The boy moaned as the growth suddenly inflated him more and more before it slowed and stopped for the last time.
The transformation was complete. Where there had been a lean muscle stud a few minutes before was now a complete tub of lard. His entire torso was a large, flabby mass with numerous rolls cascading downward. Even his cock was hidden from view now. Andy felt his cock start to deflate, for some reason he never understood. He was always hardest as the change hit, the least interested when it wasn't happening. It was as though he were less interested in the mass and more in the change. Very strange.
The boy smiled a piggy smile, his cheeks round and his face full. "Have I grown enough to please You, Daddy?"
His Daddy didn't answer, he simply moved forward and grabbed his boy around the middle - as much as he could reach - and pulled him in to kiss him hard and passionately. With that, the spell broke around the bar; normal conversation started up again and the noise level rose again, albeit below its normal level. The boy was still an object of scrutiny and a topic of conversation by several.
Andy came up to them, still in the midst of hot tongue and mouth action and not a little bit of groping of fat layers, and waited until they broke free a minute or two later. When he was finally noticed, Andy said, "Sir, if you and your boy will come with me, we can get the final weigh-in." They acquiesced, of course, since they were both dying to know the final verdict.
Andy led them toward the patio where Jake, with foresight, had had a freight scale installed. With even more foresight, he had put a coin slot on it as well, and it had turned out to be a rather good moneymaker for the bar. In a bar with extremely weight-conscious patrons, a dollar a weigh added up very quickly. Andy, however, turned on the override when they got there. They had not had a fattening in the bar recently, and these were new clients of Jake's.
The boy moved slowly and ungainly through the bar, still nude and now a mass of lard, enjoying the new feeling of mass he had and at the same time learning how to handle it. He was not having too easy a time of it either; he kept underestimating the space between him and other objects (such as other people) and colliding into them and recoiling. It was actually rather humorous to watch, but Andy sympathized as well.
When the boy stepped up onto the scale, it spun crazily for a moment before resting on the final number: 388 pounds. Both the Daddy and the boy gaped at the number, but the Daddy recovered fastest. "Fuck, boy, you've gained a full grown man! Yes, fatboy, you've grown enough to please me. For now. But I'll have to keep feeding you to see just whether it'll be enough." The big boy smiled even more.
Before they could go back to their petting, however, Andy spoke up. "Sir, I have something else to show you, if you're interested." The Daddy raised a heavy eyebrow, but nodded. He helped his boy down off the scale, watching with undisguised interest as the mass of fat his boy now carried swung in all directions as he moved off the scale and waddled forward.
Andy wasted no time. He took them directly back to one the patio, and was glad that he wasn't going to be disappointed after all; there was still a good spread and no other patrons. Laid out on long buffet tables was one of the most amazing arrangements of food anywhere. Chicken, beef, pork, potatoes, beans, corn, pasta of all sorts, burgers, subs, an entire table of desserts... and more. Andy had been expecting the food to be wiped out already. It usually was by this time of the evening, but even with some obvious signs of being raided, it was still well stocked.
The other two looked at it in amazement. "For the benefit of our patrons, Sir," Andy explained. "We restock twice a night. I wasn't sure whether you were aware of it. I thought perhaps that Your boy might be ready for his first feeding. He must be hungry." Andy knew he was, but let them make the first move... it would be the first in a long series of feedings and Andy knew they'd want it to be special.
The Daddy smiled at Andy, looked at the table, and then at the boy. "How about it, fatass? You ready for your first meal as a lardbutt? We might even get that ass of yours three feet wide if you eat enough."
The boy was breathing heavily, and Andy knew he was turned on by the verbal abuse, judging from the sweat that started running over his round body. It was cool on the patio that night. "YES SIR!" he shouted, moving in to the nearest table, ready to gorge himself. Even as he did, a loud rumble started in his belly that could be heard from five feet away.
The Daddy took charge, however, and smacked the boy's belly. The ripples that spread out from it went all the way around to his back. "Not that one, fatty. The dessert table first." The boy simply turned and went for the cakes first. His hunger had taken over entirely and he was operating on automatic pilot. He dispensed with the niceties of the plates and utensils on the end of the table and simply dug his hands into the first cake he saw, a foot tall German Chocolate cake with cherries on top. Within a very few minutes it was reduced to crumbs on the platter and frosting smeared over his face and chest, which he scooped up and inhaled as well.
He systematically started devouring the next two in line simultaneously, and reached for a pie as well. The Daddy was rubbing His boy's hog belly from behind, grinding His crotch into an ass that was as wide as two of Him, and growling verbal abuse and encouragement into His boy's ear while he ate nonstop. "Yeah, swallow that whole, fatass. I want that belly of yours filled until you can't eat more and then I'll force more in. You're going to be a prize hog for me, boy. I might get you a job as a circus fat man." It went on.
As a child, Andy learned more from his Victorian grandmother than just pithy sayings. He also learned the propriety of when to take leave of a party, and now was just such a time. Andy took one last glance - the boy was now downing a gallon of milk and a second was waiting - and headed out the door back into the bar, taking just a moment to turn the sign on the door to read "PRIVATE PARTY - DO NOT DISTURB." He also made a mental note to restock again in an hour.
Heading back to the bar, Andy was visited by a definite feeling of foreboding. Too many things were not right this evening. Jake had disappeared with Ted and not returned. This fattening was a situation that Jake himself had set up, and he did not miss such things. If Jake were going to punish - that is, discipline - Ted in some way he wouldn't do it during business hours. Besides which, the Boss had Ted reserved for the first meeting with Kevin this evening, and that overrode all other things.
Kevin's dossier troubled Andy very deeply. It wasn't that it didn't tell enough about him; it was that it told too much. Andy, in his ongoing quest to make himself indispensable, had started compiling the dossiers on The Boss' conquests, but none of them had required going into the detail that this one did by even a fraction. The dossier itself had been started months before Andy even got there and was the only ongoing project that the Boss had. Why was the Boss so interested in Kevin in particular? It didn't make sense. As far as Andy knew, there was no connection between them and they had never even seen each other in person before today, the one purchase of the Boss' notwithstanding. Kevin couldn't possibly know about that, despite what the plaque in the lobby said.
When Andy got back to the front, he discovered that a great many guys had left. Apparently the end of the scene had also signaled the end of the evening for a majority of them. There were only a few stragglers and the usual who had their "reserved" bar stools. Little Tony was just leaving as he came up and gave Andy a bear hug and headed out. Remembering what had happened when Kevin had first walked in did nothing to improve Andy's mood, only heighten his sense of unease. At least people were noticing him again.
After checking to make sure they were all sufficiently watered - and greeting a friend of his who had just walked in, a large and shapely drag queen with the stage name Lady Fatima - he gritted his teeth and headed to Jake's rooms. He hated going in there. When he was alone with Jake he craved the constant sex the man needed, but felt a pang at the absence of the thing Andy really wanted.
It's not easy being in love with a man who loves someone else. It's like trying to call someone and always getting a busy signal.
Andy shook the thought off. Now was not the time for what-might-have-been. He had to know what was going on. Gritting his teeth, he opened the door.
Ted was nowhere to be seen, although his personal flask was on the floor and his clothes were lying where they had obviously fallen off of him. That, however, was obviously the only thing that had gone normally. Standing in the middle of the room, Jake had his shirt off, showing off his thick musculature and equally impressive belly. He'd obviously been sampling the wares again; his belly was larger than it had been earlier in the evening. It looked to extend forward a good two feet now. But what was most obvious was his distracted look, staring at nothing, brow knitted in confusion. Andy's inhaled sharply. Oh, not *now*.
"My mother..." Jake said, unsure of himself. "Her name is... Marie? She has blue eyes. I remember my mother's eyes." He stared at Andy - through him, really, but he seemed to acknowledge that there was someone else was in the room. "I was on a plane. There was a man in a wheelchair. No, that was earlier. We talked about... something. Something heavy." He started pacing. That was good; that meant that he wasn't internalizing. "My hands..." He held them up as though horrified by what he saw in them. "My hands are burning!"
Andy moved forward and caught Jake's hands in his, pulling them away from his face, although Jake kept looking to where they had been. "Jake. Look at me." No time for role-playing. "Do you recognize me?"
"Your name is Andy. You came later."
Andy suppressed the sarcastic remark that came to him. "I have something to say to you. Are you listening?" Jake nodded, but his look belied it. "Frogs in winter."
The tension sluiced out of Jake like water through a sieve and he took on a dreamlike appearance. He was still standing, however, which was odd. Usually Jake started to fall forward and had to be led to the nearest place to sit or lie. Definitely odd. Andy wondered what it meant. "Jake, can you hear me?"
"Yes."
Andy made his voice very soothing. "Nothing that you remember can harm you. These things are all in the past. You are safe to remember what you can. You will remember them as though you have watched them as a movie and you will not feel upset. Do you understand, Jake?"
"Yes."
One battle won, and still a war to fight. "Tell me what you now remember."
"Dad laughed at me. Three two two. She died in my arms. M.I.T. He was afraid of me and I was only nine. Brace for impact. The letter from Dr. Kalen. The transmitter caused it. Tachyons." He seemed to be draining even further, as though unloading a weight. Which he was. "That is all."
Andy suppressed a hiss of horror. No, no, no. Jake shouldn't be remembering any of these things. It was too soon. "Jake. The new things you now remember will, from this moment on, not be as though you saw them in a movie, they will be as you experienced them." Jake's peaceful look instantly became more strained, but he did not react violently. "When you awaken, you will only remember the new memories that you are comfortable remembering. If you can remember comfortably, you will remember. However, if the memory is too painful, you will not remember it until such time as you are no longer upset by it. Do you understand my instructions?" This was the acid test; either he'd assimilate the memories or they would stay buried until he was ready to face them. It would be better if they stayed buried.
"Yes. I will remember if it doesn't hurt me. I won't remember if it does."
Deus Ex Machina, he understands. The last time this had happened, the incident about two months ago when he'd hurt Ted so badly, the instructions had had to be repeated over and over until he accepted them. His higher reasoning was returning to the pre-trauma state, and this was not a good sign at all. The Boss had to know about this immediately.
Andy wished the Boss were here; he was the expert at this. He wouldn't be pleased that Andy had done any of this with no warning or permission, but Andy would have to explain that there had been no time. Another disaster falling into Andy's lap.
Andy continued, "In a moment, I will count backwards from ten to one. When I begin to count, you will sit on the couch and close your eyes. By the time I reach four, you will be dozing lightly. After I reach one, I will tell you to return. When I tell you to return, you will wake refreshed and will not consciously remember that you were hypnotized. You will only remember the new memories that you can comfortably remember without causing you pain. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"I will now begin the count. Ten... nine..."
Jake's response was exactly as Andy had specified and he was dozing in fairly short order. "Two... One.." Andy hesitated. He could, at this point, hold off on saying it and Jake would stay in a hypnotic state indefinitely, unable to hear or see or respond to anything except Andy's voice telling him to return. He was tempted to let Jake get a night's sleep this way, but the risks of leaving him were too great. "Return."
Jake's eyes opened. "Andy, why aren't you tending the bar? I just got rid of the asshole and was headed out."
Jake did not remember his crisis. And Andy had the uncanny feeling that the new memories had once again been suppressed. The first thing that to Andy's mind had gone right so far this night. "Forgive me, Sir. I just came to tell you that pretty much everyone's headed out. Oh, and that we have a happy new fatboy. The Dad and son you sold the formula to are in the Trough enjoying his new body." It was the unofficial name for the buffet area. "They're, um, *pleased* with the results, I'd say, Sir."
Jake nodded and stood up. He didn't even question why he was sitting. "Well, the boy's made a good start, I think. I think he's going to blow up like a blimp." He was proud of his handiwork. "Thanks for taking care of it. Wish I could have seen the change. You did record it, right?" A redundant question, but Andy still nodded. "Good. The Boss'll be pleased. Another addition to His Morph Collection. Right after..." He frowned abruptly. "Well, it's another morph one way or another. Who cares?" The bitterness in his voice was harsh, and Andy knew he had to be talking about something else. But what?
Andy started moving toward the door but Jake stopped him. Putting his hands on Andy's shoulders, he said, "Andy, you're really doing a great job. I know that I don't say that often enough, but I couldn't run this bar without you. I'm glad you're around. I need you." And he smiled one of those smiles. This was not his usual behavior. This was very, very new.
Andy felt his heart melting but played it as cool as he could. He certainly had enough practice by this time. "Of course, Sir. I appreciate your praise." Bowing slightly, he backed away and waddled out of Jake's rooms and back into the bar. Damn the man! How dare he give me praise when he doesn't mean what he says! He felt vaguely ashamed of the thought, since he knew it was dishonest, but it gave a focus for his hurt. It wasn't fair! He'd even adopted the same servile attitude that Jake himself had toward the Boss, hoping against hope that that was what would make Jake respond. He'd even started helping the Boss in his projects outside the law because he'd thought Jake would be pleased. All to no avail. Not fair at all.
Clean up, serve drinks, chat, chat, chat... Andy couldn't quite lose himself in it enough to not think about Jake, especially with him right there, but he tried. Lady Fatima was no help either, unfortunately, or too much, depending on how you looked at it. She knew exactly what the situation was between Andy and Jake (minus, of course, who Jake actually was four years ago) and had nothing to say but exactly what Andy didn't want to hear: words of support, sympathy, and encouragement. The last thing a gay man wants to hear when his heart is broken is that somebody understands and sympathizes. It ruins a good bout of self-pity.
Andy felt sad. Andy had migrated here on a whim, leaving behind a life which had nothing of any sparkle or interest to it, but which he remembered in agonizing detail. Jake, who had had so much in his life and even now had such a brilliant mind, had no memory of his life before two years ago. Andy hadn't been there, but knew that Jake had changed so much. From what he had been to a cigar smoking, musclebound, big bellied bartender with a slave complex. Jake had been the only one to ever treat Andy decently. If Andy could give Jake his life back he would, even if it meant losing what little he had of him.
Jake followed immediately after him and took the register, not that there was much need. The bar was indeed sparse now, as evidenced by a severe lack of cigar smoke. Andy had not taken up the habit, but had learned to like the smell of it around him. He had even bought an expensive box of cigars for Jake at one point. He'd smoked them immediately and enjoyed every one of them. He'd even done some cigar play with Andy, which was a new experience for both of them and more than a bit of fun. Andy noticed Jake staring at the security monitor for a long time, but when Andy looked it only showed the Boss' stairwell.
Andy was just getting a Mini-Kilo ("Bloat tonight - Back to work tomorrow!") for a bald man with an 60-inch waist and an earring of a dragon head when Jake leaned into the beer cooler right past Andy's belly. Andy's cock twitched at the contact. To distract himself, he cleared his throat roughly. "Sir?" Jake looked up. "What are tachyons?" This was dangerous, but Andy had to see how well the command structure was being followed. Usually it was no question, but in light of earlier...
"Tachyons?" Jake looked a bit surprised at that and gave the beers in his hand to a young man at the end of the bar, the same one who'd come in earlier that evening with the fake ID. Andy blinked at the sight; his pants had been torn right off (he still had the waistband left but that was all) and he looked like he'd been put through a thresher. But then, if he'd gone off with Rory he had been. The boy took the beers with an exhausted grin and waddled off into the bar again, unable to walk very well. Even from fifteen feet away, Andy could see that the boy's hole was a cavern a good four inches across. Despite the serious topic on his mind at the moment, Andy definitely wanted to see round two when it came up.
When he came back, Jake said, "Tachyons are a type of superfast subatomic particle. They move faster than light. They're supposed to be hypothetical, but research has proven their existence in just the past few years. The full explanation would take hours and it's highly technical, but that's the essence of it." He frowned. "Why do you ask?"
Andy shrugged. "No reason, Sir. Someone in the bar mentioned it and I was curious."
It had been seamlessly integrated and he had no trauma. This was bad. Very bad. Jake shouldn't even remember the concept of tachyons; The Boss had made sure that he wouldn't. The word alone, when it had been pulled from Jake's shattered mind the first time, had been enough to make him go into a violent fugue state. If this meant what Andy thought it meant, there was trouble brewing. Jake never had a memory crisis like that except when under extreme emotional duress.
Andy felt it was supremely ironic that Jake still had eidetic memory. Jake could give details of his life in complete, specific detail... but not before his "birth" two years ago. One of the two reasons why was that it had taken months of deep hypnotherapy to construct a shell personality for him that wasn't subject to psychotic raving or self-destructive behavior. And it had proven stable, which is a very rare thing in cases such as his. So, for his own protection, Jake's past was a sealed drum.
Except that it wasn't.
What Andy didn't like to think about was that some drums are sealed under pressure.
Andy hands were tied. He couldn't force Jake to confront his past; that might cause an even greater mental breakdown than the one he'd already had. He couldn't do that to him. Not to mention that the Boss was extremely protective of Jake. Moreover, revealing that would mean revealing what Andy now knew about the Boss. That was the other reason Jake couldn't remember before two years ago. The Boss' death. And birth. In that order.
Once the Boss realized that Andy knew as much as he did, and that Andy was one of those rare types who cannot be hypnotized, he had made a promise that if Andy revealed so much as a word of what he knew, Andy would find himself 500 pounds heavier and entertaining a tribe of hungry cannibals. Andy knew better than to take that as hyperbole. He knew the Boss better than he wanted to by this point.
But the question was, why was Jake under duress? Ted? Unlikely. He hated the man. The Boss? Aside from unrequited love, there was no undue pressure. Or was it this Kevin? Andy had an odd feeling that it was, but the lack of knowledge of *why* was daunting. What was it about Kevin that made him a threat to Jake? He was a gym rat, not a learned man, not that that made a difference with Jake's fragmented mental state. He certainly couldn't compare to Jake's physical strength, honed by months of heavy training. He wasn't a belly man, to compete with Jake, not that that would be an issue in any case. The Boss couldn't be -
Andy gasped. Realization flashed through his mind like lightning. That was it. It had to be. There was no way to know for sure, but it was the only explanation that made sense. So many things suddenly added up; why Kevin's dossier was so verbose, why Ted had been sent over the past year to soften him up and bring him here, and why the Boss had made the purchase in the first place. And so much more. He still had no idea how or why it would happen, but the Boss still kept many secrets. Many secrets that Andy didn't want to know.
But it made no difference. He had to let it go through until the end, whenever and whatever that would be. If he said anything at all about this - he had no doubts, even without empirical data - it would do more harm than good. The Boss would neither confirm nor deny, he would say nothing at all. Jake would not believe him, but whether he did or not Andy might trigger another memory episode and there was no way of knowing what would happen. But if he said nothing...
He struggled with the logic. If he interfered, events would spin out of control. If he stayed quiet, events might spin out of control but there was also an equal chance that they would resolve themselves. Or at least maintain the status quo. He hated that; it meant choosing the lesser of two extremely dark evils. Deus, why do I have to decide like this? Ignorance truly was bliss.
He wished he could be certain, but reasonable doubt would have to do.
So he said nothing. And prayed to a Deity he no longer believed in that he was making the right choice.