The next thing I know, something was tickling my nose. My hand lazily brushed over it as I rolled onto my side, pulling the warm jacket up higher on my shoulders, trying to go back to sleep.

The persistent bugger had landed on my face again, crawling around in the deep cuts on my face. I sat up, grossed out at the thought of baby bugs buried in my skin.

I stretched as I looked around. The sun was up. The weather was already taking a turn for the heat and letting anyone know that it was going to be a hot one. The bugs had come out, drawn by the warmth. It was obvious I wouldn't be getting any more sleep right now, even though I desperately longed for it. It had been so long since I had a restful night's sleep. I brushed the dirt and grass from my jeans as I stood up.

My muscles were sore today. They were always worse the next day it seemed. I let myself take it easy as I ruffled through my backpack. I left my jeans on. They were ripped and stained from blood and burnt shrapnel, but they would do. There were a few open cuts on my legs, but my biggest injuries had been wrapped in white gauze at some point. I briefly recalled a hospital after the blast but not any details. I checked over my injuries quickly. There was a decent amount of bandaging around my torso. It made sense to me, since I had been feeling sharp pains in my side the day before, and I was certainly feeling it today not that shock and adrenaline had worn off. I had a large cut on my left arm as well that had been wrapped. It was easy to see the injuries on my legs as the holes and cuts in the jeans practically framed their presence. Some of the cuts were fairly decent, and I wondered if I had resisted at the hospital to have them dressed. Using one of the mirrors on the motorcycle, I was able to see the large cuts on my face, the left side again.

My mind flashed back to running for my life as things started to crash behind me. I took a short leap and landed on top of Ryan, vaguely feeling him wrap me in his arms to protect me before everything was whited out and the blast took over.

I shook my head, guilt creeping up my mind. Why couldn't I have remembered my love for him? Things would be so much easier. I would be able to cope with someone who had lived through the same life-altering experience. I would be able to lean on someone who would know my pain and grief over losing Aiden.

I knew I had loved him. All of my memories of interactions with him told me I had sacrificed so much for him, but it was because I knew that I had loved him that I had to let him go. I had to. He was still able to remember me. It wouldn't be fair to him. I was realizing my time in the Infraworld had damaged something in my mind, something I might not ever be able to fix, and it was unfair to expect Ryan to wait around for something that could never possibly be regained.

I sniffed, wiping my forearm across my face and pulling myself out of my dark thoughts.

I changed out my black tank top for a maroon one, tied my grey button up shirt around my waist and put my dark jacket back on for protection. I decided in the end that I wanted to change my jeans to blend in more. I couldn't do anything about the gouges on my face, but the shrapnel cuts and burns on my legs would only add to any unwanted attention if I had to stop for gas again. I rummaged through the backpack, but there was only one other pair in there, and they were skinny jeans. Even so, I attempted them. I pulled the holey jeans away from my damaged skin, sometimes having to gently separate them from burns or coagulated blood, opening new wounds. After all that, I was a sweating, shaking mess by the time I was ready to put on the new jeans. And after all of that effort, it was a huge let down to only be able to get them halfway up. The smaller cuts and burns I could handle the rough material brushing against my tender skin, but there was one part on my upper thigh that ached, and the higher I pulled up the tight jeans, the more my heart raced in dread. My fingers accidentally brushed the wound, and my breath caught in pain. It freaked me out to feel such a deep gouge; it was hardly recognizable as my own skin, but the pain definitely let me know it was me without a doubt. I sighed, eventually deciding to put the ruined jeans back on. At least they had holes to avoid the cuts and wounds.

My hand brushed the heart locket necklace that had belonged to my—our mother. My chest constricted as I realized I was going to face another day in utter loneliness, only this time, it was my own fault. I had been too afraid to stay behind and face people who loved me, but I wasn't dealing with Aiden's loss very well. I couldn't stand to see how my relationships would slowly self-destruct from my own anger, guilt, and fear. It was selfish, but I would rather leave those relationships as they were than ruin them.

My eyes teared up, but I refused to let them fall. I would be strong. I had made my choices. I had chosen to live. I would just have to live until I could find the reason why I had done so. I would survive this. I had survived so much. I would take it one day at a time. I would figure out my failing memories. I would breathe through the tightness in my chest until I no longer noticed the gaping chasm in my chest where Aiden had once been tethered. I would do this because he was free now. He was free from me. Free to do what he wanted. Free to be his own person. And, I had to be selfless enough to be happy for that.

Using my forearm, I wiped the tears from my face as I rummaged around in my backpack for the food the stranger had given me the day before. He had bought several packaged foods. I selected one at random and ate it, tasting nothing. I nearly choked on it as my throat constricted in grief, but I managed to swallow it down through the tears.

This was going to be hard.

I stopped chewing long enough to regulate my breathing, before I quickly finished off the tasteless snack. I put the trash in an outside pocket on my bag, and was ready to hit the road.

I kicked it to life and pulled out onto the country road. It was hard to find my way back onto the main highway. The roads had looked different in the headlight's dim glow last night. However, I hadn't wandered very far from it and managed to find the main highway again easily.

I pulled out and merged into traffic.

I rode for hours. I watched the scenery gradually change. I felt the temperature steadily rise. It was cathartic. It was an expectation, nothing like the scents and drastically different times, climates, and sceneries that were bouncing around in my head playing with no rhyme or reason.

As I drove, I felt like I could breathe easier. I was able to begin to sort through memories and remember a little bit about myself and my life.

The rolling grass hills levelled out and became far-reaching landscapes of golden-red. And when I had kept going to steadily increasing temperatures, I had remembered several important times in my life where I had nearly been taken by the cold. I knew that I hated the cold, and that was why it never occurred to me that I had a destination in mind other than wanting to go somewhere warm.

And then, I pulled off into a small town, but I wasn't low on gas. Some stranger's generosity had allowed me to fill it a state back. And then, I pulled off onto an even smaller street and took it until it ended, and the pavement disappeared. Yet, I kept going. I kept driving until I could see a small modular house with a barn nearby. If I squinted, I could also make out the old silo that held the water.

I knew where I was. I had been heading here all along.

New memories came flooding back to me with the surroundings. This place had been so far removed from everything to do with my life with the government, military, and CIA that I hadn't remembered consciously until I saw that old barn.

As I got closer, I could see Cory carrying a pail of water. He had grown since the last time I had saw him from what I could remember. His shoulders had broadened, and he was filled out. He looked more like Jay now, more like the man that he would be. In reality, he wasn't much younger than me, but I felt so much older. Paul was out cutting wood in the shade of the house. He looked much better. It was good to see that he had healed up. Other than that, he still had his hair braided back and one of his geometric, colored button-ups rolled up on his forearms.

My eyes scanned the rest of the property. It was just as I had remembered it: the large, rusted shower stall made of round metal, the large formations of orange looming rocks, the view of endless acres of orange, dry ground, all the way down to the sheep wandering in the fields. I even remembered the large rock in the front yard that I had stupidly thought I could hide behind from Ye'iitsoh. My eyes settled on the horse corral, drawn to the movement there. I was within hearing range now, and it had caught the attention of the people outside. And that was the first good look I was able to get of him. He hadn't changed much at all since I last saw him.

Unlike his brother whom had grown and his dad who had improved in health so much, Jay looked exactly the same as the day I let with the promise to return. And, in that moment, I knew that returning hadn't been a mistake. It had been exactly what I needed.