A while ago I talked about writing a fun memory loss fic...
She wakes to a loud ringing in her ears. Her head throbs even before she manages to drag her stinging eyes open. It's dark, but she can see because there's something to her side that makes light, something that's wild and orange that leaps for the sky.
Fire. It's called fire and it's bad.
She rolls over, and the pain that spears through her whole body makes it hard to breathe as she tries to push herself up. The world tilts and turns white, her arms feel like nothingness and her face hits cold metal.
She wants to lie there and close her eyes, to not do anything until her head stops hurting but there's something that shoves in her chest that makes her try again. This time she makes it to her knees, and when her vision clears she sees more fires that light up the twisted metal all around her. But there's something else, something she needs to remember and find or else it would be bad.
But she can't remember. And she tries to look harder but her head is pounding and her eyes are stinging and everything hurts so badly-
Something hot and wet trickles down her face, tears. She can't cry, she's not supposed to cry. She needs to find and she's wasting time and something bad will happen if she doesn't move.
She moves, rising to her feet in a surge of will and stumbling forwards as fast as she can. An instant later there's a loud boom behind her. The ground shakes and makes her fall. This time she keeps her face from hitting the ground again with her arms. It's hot behind her, it must be fire. She needs to get away.
Her arms and shoulders burn with pain as she drags herself forwards, gritting her teeth against the molten pain in her head. Dimly, she registers that there is less metal around her. She can't see any more fires ahead of her so it's even darker and it's so cold. She wants to stop, to go back by the warmth even if it's dangerous but she can't. Something's pulling her away from the sharp edges and hot flames, the thing she needs to find more than she needs to be warm.
It seems like years pass as she crawls away, muscles shaking and ears ringing so loudly she can't hear if there are any more booms. Then, just when she thinks she can't keep going she sees what she's looking for out of the corner of her eye. It looks like barely more than a shadow on the ground in the darkness, but as she gets closer she can see that it's a person lying on the ground, breathing. She doesn't hesitate to get as close as she can before collapsing next to them. They're warm, so beautifully warm when she's so cold that she manages to roll over, press her body into the solid warmth before the black that's been steadily creeping over the edges of her vision swallows her whole.
Her shoulder is moving, something's holding on to it and making it move.
The voice is deep, pressing her ears like the hand that presses her shoulder. She obeys without another thought, opening her eyes to a light pink and yellow sky with a smooth, round, dark shape right in the center of it. The light hurts her head and makes her blink. When she opens her eyes again there's a face hovering above her, blocking out the light enough that she can see deep brown skin and even darker eyes that look at her with… what's the word? Scrutiny. She doesn't exactly know what scrutiny means, but she's sure that this is what it looks like.
"Look at me." The man says, his voice vibrating through his arm into her chest.
She looks, trying to keep her eyes open but they hurt so she has to blink them more. When her vision is clear, she can see that the man's face is oddly puffy on one side and there's a red mark across his cheek. He doesn't seem to notice as he studies her carefully, then meets her gaze with eyes as warm as his voice.
"Your head was bleeding." He tells her.
It was? She reaches the hand that's not attached to the shoulder he's holding and touches the side of her skull where it stings. She feels something crusty and sticky, and when she pulls her fingers away and looks at them there are red flakes on them.
"Oh." She says, and the sound of her own voice is fascinating (another word she doesn't quite know the meaning of.) "It still hurts."
The man frowns. He's not angry, though. "Where did you come from?" He asks.
That she knows. She sets both hands on the ground and pushes herself up into a sitting position, and thankfully her vision is only a bit blurry as she looks around.
"Over there." She points behind him to where she can see pieces of black and grey scattered all over the yellow dirt. He turns to look, adjusting how he's positioned on his knees so he's more beside her than in front of her. His hand doesn't leave her shoulder though, and she's glad. She likes having it there, it makes her feel safe.
Wreckage, that is a new word. It must be what broken things on the ground are called.
"Yes. There used to be flames" He looks back at her when she speaks, so she gestures with her hands to explain. "Fire."
"Fire." He repeats slowly. Maybe it's a new word for him like wreckage was to her. A thought suddenly comes to her mind. Even though this man wasn't in the wreckage last night, he isn't new; she knows him.
"Where did you come from?" She asks.
Wrinkles appear above his eyes after she asks, and his hand falls off her shoulder. "I'm not sure. I woke up and you were lying under my arm."
"I crawled there." She tells him, missing the warmth of his hand already. "When it was dark."
He makes a noise in the back of his throat but doesn't move, and neither do the wrinkles. She waits for him to say something, because it's his turn. But he doesn't and she gets impatient, (she can tell because of the stirring in her stomach,) so she talks instead.
That seems to get him back to paying attention, and he nods slowly. "And I you. Do you know your name?"
"No." The answer comes out of her mouth even before she remembers what a name is. She knows she has one, everybody has a name. But she doesn't remember and it makes her annoyed. "Do you know my name?"
He doesn't seem annoyed, just thoughtful. "I don't know either of our names." He answers, staring back at the wreckage like he would see something in it. "But I know you, and I know that I must take care of you, so you must be my daughter."
Daughter. It's not a name, but it still sounds right. "Alright." She agrees. "But if I'm your daughter, that makes you my…" She can't remember the word. Daughter means family, and in family there are siblings and mothers and…
"Papa!" She says at the same time as he says.
He looks at her, moving the eyebrow on the not swollen side of his face up higher than the other one.
She shrugs, then regrets it when the ache in her shoulders becomes a stronger pain. "They mean the same thing, I think."
He- her papa, just stares for another long moment before he seems to decide that he doesn't care what it means. He shuffles backwards on his knees, away from her, and carefully plants one of his feet on the ground before pressing his arm into his thigh and slowly pushing himself upright. She watches, surprised at how tall he is even though he's not standing straight up yet. He makes it to both feet before something in his body makes a cracking noise and he freezes, sucking in air through his teeth.
The pain that he feels makes her heart pound in her chest so hard it hurts, and before she knows what she's doing she's standing on her feet next to him.
"Are you alright?" Her voice is high and scared even to her own ears.
Her papa doesn't answer, just breathes loudly for a long moment before he moves again, straightening his back all the way until her head doesn't even reach his shoulder.
"I'm fine." He says, but his voice is deeper and rougher than it was a moment ago and he's still hurting. "I'll be fine."
She doesn't move for a moment, still scared that something might happen but he turns his head and looks down at her.
"You can stand. Can you walk?"
She raises one foot, and it's hard to keep her balance for a moment but she gets it to land in front of her and brings her back leg to join it.
She looks back up at him for confirmation and he frowns again, looking intently at the ground before taking a hesitant (hesitant means... slow, but different) step forward.
"We can both walk." He says, like she can't see what's going on. "That's good. We should go back to the wreckage to see if we can find something."
He takes one more test step, and then starts walking. She follows him, going a bit faster than before so she can walk at his side. "What are we looking for?" She asks, because she doesn't feel a pull like she had when it had been night, when she had found him.
"Anything." He answers, tilting his head up to look at the sky, which is mostly pale yellow now and still getting brighter. "Anything that can tell us how we got here, or who we are."
Even though there are no more fires, the wreckage is still warm. She follows her father as they make their way into the middle of it, making sure to step where he steps so she doesn't hurt her feet. But after only a minute or two of wandering he stops abruptly, and she almost runs into his back. She looks around, then leans to peer in front of him, but she doesn't see anything.
"What?" She asks and he holds up a hand to tell her to be quiet.
"Do you hear that?" He whispers.
She stops searching with her eyes and strains her ears, but she doesn't hear anything.
"Hear what?" She whispers back.
Papa doesn't even look at her, his gaze focused off somewhere to the side."Close your eyes and listen without your ears."
"Listening without ears" should be confusing, but she knows what he means. She closes her eyes and listens past her sore limbs and the throbbing of her head, past the deep vibration of her father as he starts moving away from her. For a moment it's all rushing quiet, and then she feels it, a silver chord that pulls her.
She opens her eyes, but keeps the call in her mind and follows it. She goes in the opposite direction that her father set off in, closer to
the hot remains of the fires. She ends up in front of a glowing pile of metal, the song she hears coming from somewhere within it. She can feel the heat from where she stands a pace away, so she knows that she cannot put her hand in. But- she doesn't need to. She just needs to reach.
She closes her eyes again, listening closer to the chord until it feels like she's the one singing it, and then tugs on it like it's pulling her. It struggles for a moment, stuck on something, so she pulls harder. It comes free with a rush and she opens her eyes just in time to see something small and sparkling some streaking for her face.
She shrieks and ducks on instinct, and the crystal passes harmlessly over her head and hits another piece of wreckage with a clang before falling to the ground.
Well. That was… interesting.
She straightens and turns to look at the crystal, which lies innocently on the ground like it didn't just try to attack her.
"Slowly this time." She tells it, and this time she keeps her eyes open as she pulls it.
It comes to her hand easily this time, and it lands in her palm it feels like a piece of her slotting back into place. Papa had said that they were looking for something that would tell them who they were, and even though this crystal doesn't tell her what her name is, she knows that it's hers.
She turns around and sees her father on the other side of the wreckage, his back towards her as he looks at something on the ground. "Papa!" She yells, the volume of her own voice making her head feel like it's splitting into two. He looks up at her call, turns around as she makes her way towards him. She almost trips a few times, suddenly dizzy, but it fades quickly and she stops in front of him.
"Look what I found." She says, opening her fist to show him her crystal. He looks at it carefully, frowns, then extends his own hand to show her a crystal in his palm. It looks different than hers and it doesn't sing like hers does, but it thrums in harmony to his particular humm feeling.
"What do you think they are?" She asks, and he blows a breath out of his nose.
"I'm not entirely sure. They connect to us in some sort of way but…" He trails off, closing and opening his fingers. "Can you do this?"
Her father takes his crystal between his thumb and his finger, then slowly lets it go and instead of falling it floats above his hand.
"I think so." She responds, because she can make her crystal come to her but she hasn't tried just holding it. She repeats his motion, taking it between her fingers then letting it go and pushing it up to keep it from coming down. It doesn't fall, instead it rockets straight up and almost gets lost to the air but papa's hand comes out of nowhere and grabs it above his head.
"Just hold it." He commands, returning it to her and she grits her teeth, this time pulling it like it's on a string and letting it dangle. It wobbles for a moment, then settles down and just floats. She feels a thrill of triumph, looking up to see if her father's pleased that she can do it but he still just looks like he's thinking. Once he sees that she's waiting for him to acknowledge he tilts his chin, then thrusts out his hand.
"Hold this." He drops his crystal into her outstretched hand then turns around. She lets her own crystal fall back into her palm with a little bit of dissapointment, but the feeling only lasts a second before it's replaced by interest in what he's doing.
Papa extends his arms, and she feels something like a rumble vibrate in the air before all of the metal in front of him goes flying backwards with a crash. She startles, not expecting the sudden noise. Papa shoots her an amused look over his shoulder, he must have felt her jump, before his expression turns serious again.
"The crystals tie themselves to us, but not us to the power." He says, taking his crystal back. She doesn't move, thinking hard about the words for a moment before she understands.
"Maybe it's both?" She suggests.
"The crystals are tied to us and the power, but we are tied only to the power and it's through it that the crystals tie to us."
She doesn't even know what she just said, it made much more sense in her head. But her father seems to understand because he nods again.
"Maybe." He says. "Good thinking, daughter. Keep yours with you."
She smiles, proud of herself, and tucks the crystal into the pocket that she found in her pants. "Did you find anything else?"
"Nothing we can use." Papa sighs. "We're going to have to walk until we find something or someone."
She groans. Her body is sore and the sky is bright and hurting her head, so walking is the last thing she wants to do right now. Then she remembers that Papa is hurt too and instantly feels bad about complaining.
He doesn't say anything, just takes a step forward and she stays close to his side until they're clear of the wreckage.
They don't make it more than a few minutes away from where they had woken up before papa stops suddenly. It takes her a few steps for her to realize that he's stopped moving. She swivels her head to see him turning in a slow circle, eyes on the horizon.
She looks too, and there's nothing but flat dirt as far as she can see. It suddenly strikes her how small she is, how big of a planet they're on and how they don't have anything or know anything. Her hands start shaking and her eyes sting and go blurry. She wants to get back to her father's side but she can't get her legs to work. It feels like she's floating but at the same time so heavy she can't move. Is she even real? How does she know if she can't remember? If they start walking and don't find anything they're going to die without even knowing who they are. She might never even know her own name!
Strong, warm hands grab her shoulders and turn her around. Through the tears in her eyes she sees her father's face lower to her height and over the sound of her own gasps his voice rumbles in her ears, telling her to "Breathe, my daughter. Focus on me, just on me."
She tries, but it's difficult to do anything through the swirling thoughts in her head and the fear racing in her chest. One of papa's hands slides to hold the back of her head, the pressure of his fingers cracking the caked dried blood there. His other hand falls from her shoulder and moves to press her palm to his own face.
"Feel my skin." He says. "Can you feel it?"
She's painfully aware that he's placed her hand on the bruised side of his face, just under the slice on his face that has scabbed over. It feels too warm to her touch. She nods shakily.
"Yes." She tries to say it in the same way he speaks, calmly and firmly, but it comes out quiet and shaky instead.
"I'm real," He continues. "You're real, and we're here together. And-"
Papa pauses, his eyes going empty for a moment like he's forgotten what he's supposed to say. The look is just how she feels, there's a role she's supposed to fill, a purpose she has but she doesn't quite remember what it is and it scares her.
"And." He repeats slowly. "We need to stay strong to be able to get out of this alive. Can you do that?"
He doesn't move his hands or stop meeting her eyes, waiting for an answer.
There is only one thing she can say. She swallows, willing the tears out of her eyes and the tremor out of her hands.
"Yes." She says, and this time her voice is steady. "I can."
A small smile forms on her father's face, and he squeezes her shoulder. "That's my girl."
Warmth blooms in her chest from the affirmation. She slides her hand out of his grip and off of his face, careful of his injury, then tries the best she can to help him up so he doesn't hurt his back again. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt, using her shoulder for leverage. Nothing cracks this time, which she is very grateful for, and he keeps his hand on her shoulder for a moment as he looks around.
"We should go this way" He tells her after a long second of silence, pointing off to the left. She looks in that direction, squinting against the bright sky, but doesn't see anything.
"I have a feeling." Papa starts off, walking in the direction he pointed and leaving her to run a few steps to catch up.
"Like something's pulling you?" She asks from behind him, remembering the urgent tug she had felt last night that had led her to him.
"Something like that." He answers, eyes staying ahead.
She takes that as a yes. If it's the same feeling, maybe they'll find another person! Someone who knows them and their names and can tell them where they are. Maybe they'll have food or water; hopefully a bed, so she can lie down and sleep until her headache goes away. She wants that more than anything else at the moment.
She feels a nudge in her mind, one that she instantly recognizes as her father telling her to quiet down.
"Sorry." She mutters aloud. He hums in response. In an attempt to be more quiet, she sticks her hand in her pocket and grabs her crystal, rolling it in her fingers. The crystal hums at her too, she can hear it now that she's paying attention.
The crystal is another thing that she wants explained. Why do her and Papa both have one? Why is it latched to her? What does it do?
This time she catches that her thoughts are getting too loud and quiets them before they reach Papa. She knows that she's just going to have to wait until she can find the answer, but it's so hard when she knows nothing at all.
What if, A voice in the back of her mind whispers. You never find the answer? You'll be nothing forever.
No, she can't think like that. She told Papa she was going to be strong, just like he is.
She quickens her place to walk beside him instead of just behind him. They can do this. They have to.
