Okay, so here's the like, millionth, try at this Call of Duty: Black Ops fanfiction. The other two or three times I have done this, just haven't satisfied me and it had been a massive struggle updating, but I think this one might be different. I always loved this way of story-telling which is probably why I loved the narrative story-telling on both Black Ops and Black Ops 2. So, from that inspiration and the fact that I've always wanted to write something like this, I give you a revised edition of my Black Ops Fanfiction. I hope it turns out okay, and I hope you enjoy the little twist from the original.

Also, I do not own the Call of Duty franchise. I only own, Jesselynn, Jessica, Michael, and many other OCs that will be involved in this story. If I owned Call of Duty, Frank Woods would be locked in my closet...You didn't read that!

"Michael, please, we already talked about this! Only mention what she would remember and you know what time that would be. No weddings or first dates things. Nothing from our recent past," A middle-aged woman with long brown hair and sharp green eyes demanded of her older brother as she argued with him, walking down a long hallway with spaced doors on each wall.

The older blonde-haired man with pale blue eyes let out a saddened deep breath as he looked at his younger sister. He was the second-oldest of their siblings and the closet to the woman they were visiting for the first time. Well, to her it would be the first time. The mere fact crippled his heart and he tucked his cold, nervous hands into his gray coat pockets.

"Okay, but I don't see how this is going to help anything. You remembered what the doctor told us, why we shouldn't be bothering with these questions. It's just-" He said hesitantly as he moved out of the way so an elderly woman, clinging to a nurse in red scrubs, could walk slowly by as he pressed his disagreement to this even more.

"Just what, Michael?" She turned and snapped at him, green eyes igniting flames as she looked at him with anger, "This is our mother, Mike. The only reason we are living and breathing on this earth. I don't want her to waste away like this. Completely forgetting who she really is 'till she slowly forgets how to even breathe! No, if there's a way I could help her, I'm going to! I know you and Melanie and the others said that it was useless, but I'm not giving up!" She said stepping closer so she could whisper to him, voice full of venom and anger at his disbelief.

"You don't think I feel the same way? My real father was an asshole and she was the only good thing in this world, the first person who actually gave a shit if I lived or not. Do you not think I want her with me all my life? But, Jess, after a while, you have to face reality!" He paused for a moment, feeling the pain rise again as his next words came out hesitantly, "Though I hate to say it, Mom is pretty much gone. She wouldn't remember us even if we played out our whole lives out to her," He finished in a softer tone, begging for her to see reason in his words.

Her expression softened, but her decision was clear and she wasn't changing her mind for anything. Michael groaned as he followed after his sister once again who was practically jogging down the hallway to reach the room number the receptionist gave them moments before.

Michael thought of the woman they were visiting as he walked behind his sister. She was his mother and he loved her more than life itself. That was an obvious fact. Before he was born, his biological father kicked both he and his older sister out of the house and forced her to walk to the town so she could, what he remembered from her stories and her words, 'get the hell away from or he'd kill her'. She was a month from her due date and had a four year old daughter. No money or any sort of transport. The blood in his veins curdled when he thought about that man and all he had done to his mother before he was born. The reason he knew so much about this man was because of the stories his mother told him when he was about sixteen and he was determined to know about his real father. She had told him everything, why she never wanted Michael around him and why he was never there. He appreciated the struggle his mother burdened. If she had been weak, both he and his mother would've died before he could even enter the world. He didn't even want to think of what he would've done to his older sister.

He began to think of the woman he had looked up to most of his life. They may have been half-siblings, but to him, it never mattered. She had grown so fast and the day she was gone from their life was like a speeding rocket. Flying by fast and ending in disaster. His step-father and her biological father took it hard when she married. He just couldn't believe that his oldest child was already grown and out of the house. Although, he good reason to fear her being away from his sight. Michael was scared that she had put herself in the same position her mother had been in years ago.

Then there was Jessica, the stubborn woman he was practically chasing down the hall to catch up with. She was his mother and step-father's second child together and also her third child. She had grown up completely oblivious to some things. Like when her father was leaving half the time to fight. She'd always ask her mother every day he was gone where he was and why he wasn't there.

But, when he was, he was always dragged around by the surprisingly strong little girl as she immediately forced him into a game of dress-up or dolls. Although, when her younger brother was born, she was like Melanie. She constantly tried acting like the oldest sibling and often followed her mother around to get a vision of how a mother acts. Same thing Melanie had done with Michael.

His thoughts and memories were interrupted when Jessica suddenly halted in her steps and looked back at her older brother, almost as if she was looking for his permission to open the door before she softly knocked on the door, Michael nervously waiting a step behind her.

When she slowly creaked the door open, they were immediately greeted with the familiar scent of cinnamon and mint. Their mother was always fond of the two fragrances and could never decide between them so she just decided to go with both. Their childhood homes always smelled this way. At least one thing hadn't changed about her.

The room was almost completely identical to what had been her bedroom back home. Her favorite, old paintings hung on separate walls while family pictures and some awards decorated the rose-wallpaper walls. Near her neat bed, Michael could see a collage of drawings that were scribbled on by young, small hands. He could see his name, Melanie's, Jessica's, and his other siblings' names sloppily written in the bottom corner of the page. The drawings matured over the years, but they were mostly his and his brother's, Samuel's. They both loved to draw over the years and Michael often drew pictures of sceneries that belonged in his mother's childhood yeas. Memories of her parents and brother and her short time with them.

The awards that hung on the wall were mostly those of her nursing career. There was few, but he remembered how proud she had been of those. Her husband usually had two times more than her, but she never minded showing them off more than hers. In her eyes, after all he had done and went through, he deserved to brag about it.

Along a shelf was even more family photos, but they were smaller and lined along the shelf in a single-file line. There was at least one for each family member. He could see his and his siblings school photos when they were younger, and two of her and her husband. There was one of her brother during his time in the Vietnam war. He remembered that that was also where she met her husband. There were so many memories lined up against the shelf and he could see that there was even more by the two or three photo albums on the bottom shelf.

The last thing his eyes fell on was his elderly mother. Her white hair was cut short and placed in old-fashioned curls as she sat on her favorite chair, messing with an old shirt that he could already tell was the raggedy, old shirt of his younger brother. He remembered how he had tripped and landed in wet dirt and got his favorite old shirt completely ruined. There was a loose button on it already and their mother had always vowed to fix it, but she never got around to it. Soon, he outgrew the shirt and she just put it aside since she thought it useless to mess with it any longer. Apparently, her mind was stuck in the past at the moment.

"Um...Excuse me," Jessica began, nervous of starting this conversation with the elderly woman.

She looked up from her work and her green eyes found their hesitant faces. She was still as pretty as he remembered, but had obviously aged. Wrinkles had set in and she no longer wore her make-up, though she never really wore that much before. Her reading glasses hung on a golden chair around her neck and he could by her face she was racking her brain trying to recall their names and faces.

"Would you two quit with the faces? I'm not a damn time bomb, for Christ's sake! Come in, sit," She said finally in a wavering voice and gestured to the chairs beside her that the nurses normally used.

The two siblings exchanged a glance as a smile stretched across Jessica's small mouth. Michael grinned with her knowing what was going through their minds. Their mother would never lose that attitude even if she was slowly losing herself.

Michael took a seat beside his mother, inhaling a faint scent of her perfume. It was almost identical to the fragrance in his memories. He didn't know how she could possibly find the same brand from years and years ago, but somehow she managed.

It was quiet for a moment as they watched her finish her work with the yellow-and-black striped shirt and placed her folded hands in her lap, turning to the two.

"So, what can I do for you two, today?" She asked softly, still not knowing exactly who they were and was honestly quite nervous and hesitant in their presence.

Jessica looked over to her older brother for some kind of help, but sighed softly to herself when he just shrugged, not knowing how to start their conversation.

"Well, if you don't mind, we'd like to ask you some questions, Jesse," Jessica began, finding it difficult to use her mother's first name instead of the formal 'Mom' she was so used to calling her.

The woman, Jesse, just began to laugh softly, a million memories coming to mind at the mere nickname, "Jesse – Now, there's a name I hadn't heard in a long, long time. I hadn't been called that since, well, maybe since before you two were born. Which reminds me, what are your names?" She said fondly at the memories and looked at the two, still thinking about the name.

There was a pause between the three as Jessica thought over what she should give her. She knew that if she said Jessica and Michael, she'd catch on and probably start ranting about how they possibly couldn't be those little children she loved so dearly in the picture. She wasn't ready to start pushing her mother into that. She would eventually ask her about that, but not right off the bat.

"I'm Jazmine. This is my brother, Jeremy. We're really interested in hearing about your husband and I promise you we're not trying to get any information out of you for stories or articles or some shit like that, pardon my language," Jessica explained, immediately apologizing at the end in force of habit. She remembered how much she hated hearing her children curse even when they were adults.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. My husband was the worse. Every time I tell him to not curse in front of our little ones, he'd turn around and do it again! It's a surprise their first words weren't 'fuck' or 'damn'," She said with a smile as she waved off the woman's apology.

Michael scoffed remembering their constant bickering. He remembered how Melanie began cursing around fifteen thanks to their father. He had vowed to keep it a secret, but it got out by the time she was about sixteen or seventeen when she was driving Jesse to town once and suddenly slammed on her breaks when the green light turned red, unknowingly calling out a 'fuck' right in front of her mother.

"Okay, so, we should get started. Never liked waiting around for something. What is it you want to ask me?" The elderly woman pushed on as the two were quiet in front of her, reminiscing on things of the past as they sat in their mother's room who had no idea that these were her children, her 'babies' sitting before her. The people she had wanted to see since she had moved into the retirement home.

Jessica and Michael exchanged a glance before continuing. He could already tell this was going to a long journey.

"We want to ask you about Sergeant Frank Woods; your husband," Jessica said finding the name difficult to say because of a lump in her throat.

Michael knew she was holding back tears from the clear revelation that their mother had no recollection of them and that her father had been taken from her recently for almost same reasons as her mother. She could still visit her father and he still remembered her from birth to present, but he was far away from her.

Jesse's smile faded as she thought about the man. A million, no billion, memories rushed through her mind from the name. She knew that man like the back of her hand. The one who changed her life completely. Saved her from a pathetic marriage and gave her a life. Sergeant Frank Woods. The name made her smile and she was more than happy to speak of him and how she met him.

She looked up to the two and they knew immediately that there were fixing to get every single detail of every second she was with him. Jessica was ready for it. She wanted to know everything about her mother and father as she could before all of those memories were gone.

She wanted to know why they had kept so many secrets from her and her siblings. She wanted to know why her Daddy came home to her in a wheelchair. Why another boy randomly lived amongst their family for a while. What had happened when he was away. What had happened before her birth.

She wanted to know their secrets.

Yeah, it's short. Just something to, hopefully, get you interested and also to test to see if anyone actually wants to read this. I hope you guys do! But if not, it will probably be redone (for the millionth time) or just tossed aside (maybe, there's been a year's worth of thought put into this story!)

Please review and tell me what you think of it so far! All sorts of feedback are very appreciated, but sometimes it really helps to read the words of a human! (You better be humans...)

Please stick around to figure out about this crazy family that has been racking my brains since the very first time I laid eyes on Call of Duty: Black Ops and watch me struggle with the storyline!

Thanks for reading and please, come again! (Or I'll make Jessica snap at you...)