Looking back on the first chapter I think it may have been a bit too clinical. I'll work on improving that in future updates.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ib or any of the characters.

Ib stood there alone in the gallery. Everything she felt was obscured by an almost unnatural calm. She didn't know how she came to be there, or where everyone else was, but she knew that it held the answers that she had been looking for since the day the dreams began.

As Ib walked down the dreary halls she felt the presence of the memories that lay buried in her mind, but each time she tried to claim them they would flee back into her subconscious. Each turn brought a new sensation; each hallway pushed her forward towards a goal that her waking mind couldn't understand. She couldn't tell how long she had been walking for but after her steps took her around the next corner Ib knew she had arrived.

In front of her was a single massive painting that pulled her in as though by some invisible magnetic force. As Ib drew closer she could feel her heart beat faster like a bird trying to break free from its cage. Something told her that this painting was the key to what she was trying to remember.

A few more steps and she was standing directly in front of it, less than an arm's reach away. Underneath the painting was a small inscription. '********** World'. Ib frowned as she read the name. For some reason the first word was blurred and unreadable.

"It says Fabricated World." Jumping at the sound of the voice she whirled around and came face to face with its source. Standing next to her was a man with purple hair, dressed in a blue jacket. For a moment Ib could only stare. She could feel the memories of this man straining against the walls of her mind, struggling to break the surface.

Feeling a strange sensation on her cheek, Ib raised a hand and was surprised to find a stream of tears running down her face. She continued to stare at him, fearing that if she looked away for even a second, he may vanish. Cautiously, she stepped closer to the man and reached out towards him in an attempt to confirm his existence, but something caused her to jerk back at the last second.

It was then that she looked at his face.

The few faded memories she had of this man were always filled with comfort and joy. A warm smile, a friendly word, a promise that everything would be all right. When she looked at his face however, there was not even the slightest hint of those times. The smile on his face was as cold as ice, and his eyes held all the comfort and understanding of a viper watching a rabbit.

Ib stood transfixed by that gaze. Try as she might she couldn't tear her eyes away from it. "I know what you're looking for Ib." He said as he closed the distance between them. "You want to remember don't you?" She could only tremble as he placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to speak into her ear. "Come back to us Ib. Come back to the gallery."

As Ib woke with a start for the second time in just as many days she heard those last words echoing throughout her head. "Come back to the gallery." That command, issued by the man she could almost remember seemed to ingrain itself in her mind even as the other details of the dream faded away.

She sat there silently as hope and fear coursed through her veins. After all this time she had a sign, something that could unlock the memories she had so desperately tried to reclaim. This was her chance.

She could remember.

….

Did she still want to remember?

Her breath hitched as she recalled the feeling that man had given her. The sheer wrongness of him, as though some treasured memory had been twisted into something terrifying. Her hands curled into fists, squeezing her sheets in frustration as the images of their meeting drifted into obscurity.

Ib wrapped her blanket tightly around her body in an attempt to stave off the cold feeling that she was enduring. Taking a deep breath she steeled her resolve. If that's what it takes to make sense of what's been happening to me she thought. Then that's what I'll do.

For better or for worse, Ib was going back to the gallery.

Mary sat in the living room humming a tune to herself as she debated what type of card to get for her sister's birthday. "What do you think?" She asked turning to the stuffed pink bunny next to her. "Would she like a serious card or a funny one?"

She didn't expect the doll to respond the way the ones in her old home had, but old habits die hard. Especially when you have upwards of a century to develop them.

Mary giggled as she scratched her toy behind the ears. "Aww don't say that, it's not like she doesn't have a sense of humor. She just has a hard time expressing it." She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment before letting out a gasp and turning to face her silent companion. "I've got it!" She exclaimed. "How about the musical card that I saw at the store yesterday? The one about the rose garden? That one would be perfect!"

She was so excited by the thought of her chosen card that she didn't notice Ib until the red eyed girl took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "Ah, Ib!" She shouted in surprise. "Uh j-just pretend you didn't hear that ok? You're not allowed to know what I'm getting you for another four days."

Fortunately for Mary the other girl appeared entirely oblivious both to her initial remark and to the disturbance she caused. "Ib?" Mary ventured. "Are you all right?" Still getting no response she leaned across the couch and resorted to waving her hand in front of Ib's face.

"Wha-huh?" Ib said, shaking her head to dispel the daze she had been in. "Oh sorry Mary I didn't notice you there." Mary just raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?" She asked. "Well…" Ib began. "I've been giving some thought to what I want to do for my birthday, and I think I have it settled." Mary jumped to her feet and ran in front of her sister, causing Ib to shrink back at the sudden invasion of personal space. "That's great!" She shouted. "What is it!? Oh you have to tell me! No, wait don't tell me, let me guess. Is it a water park? No, a theme park? No, no, no, wait, is it a trip to Paris!?"

Ib held up her hands in an attempt to stop the barrage of questions. "Whoa, hold on a second. Calm down Mary it's not anything like that." Mary's shoulders slumped slightly but her spirits remained high. "Do you remember that art gallery we went to when we were nine? The one featuring Geurtena's artwork?"

It took every ounce of self-control Mary had to keep the smile up on her face. "Yeah of course I remember. What does that have to do with your birthday?" She ventured. "I've been thinking…" Ib began. "I've been thinking that maybe we should go back there, you know, for old time's sake."

For a moment Mary simply stood there. Surely she had misheard. There is no way that her sister would just suddenly suggest such a thing. That hope was dashed as the moment stretched on and she realized that it was exactly what Ib had Just said.

"Mary, what's wrong?" Ib asked, her thoughtful expression turning to one of concern. "Mary, you're shaking." With a supreme effort of will Mary stilled the tremors that were threatening to knock her off her feet.

"I-I'm fine Ib." She assured quickly. "But why would you want to go back to that place for? Y-you already saw all the exhibits didn't you?" Try as she might Mary couldn't prevent the pleading tone from entering her voice. "To be honest I'm not entirely sure why, but I keep getting this feeling that I need to go back." Ib told her, putting a hand on Mary's shoulder to help steady her. "Are you sure you're all right? You look really pale."

"Y-yeah, I'm f-fine…" Mary stammered as she pulled back from the offered hand. "I… Uh, I-I need to… go do something!" Without another word she turned and ran despite the cry of protest from Ib. Dashing through the hallway, she ran up the stairs to her room and quickly closed the door behind her.

Slumping against the wall on the opposite side of the room, Mary desperately tried to get her emotions under control. She felt as though the floor had suddenly opened up, dropping her straight back to that… that hell.

Even after nine years of being free from that place, even after nine years of being alive, the terror of being forced back there was still a nightmare she didn't ever want to think about. There was no way Ib could know of course, her memory of the Fabricated World had disappeared when she left it. Even so, Mary couldn't help but feel a sickening weight settle in her stomach at the mere thought of her former prison.

As she struggled to get her breathing under control, a knock came at the door. "Just a second!" She said quickly as she wiped away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "Come in." After a second her door opened up to reveal a very worried looking Ib. "Mary? What happened? What's wrong?"

Taking a seat on her bed Mary did her best to offer a reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong, really, don't worry about it." Even to her the words sounded hollow and empty. Taking a seat next to her Ib once again placed a hand on Mary's shoulder. "Mary please tell me what's wrong. I thought you would have liked going back to the gallery. You were so happy the last time we were there."

She had been happy the last time they had been there, but not for the reasons Ib thought. It had been her first taste of a family. Her first taste of what it was to be human.

Mary didn't know what to do. If she flat out refused to go, then Ib would want an explanation. Even if she did come up with something believable, the whole issue might cause her to remember something of the Fabricated World. And if that happened…

No, Mary wouldn't let that happen. Her only real option was to go to the gallery and try to prevent Ib from seeing anything that might stir up any buried memories. Even so, the fear of what could happen was inescapable.

"Ib, what would you think of me if I had done something bad?" Mary questioned, unable to keep the thought to herself. "Bad? What do you mean bad?" Ib asked. Damn it, why did you have to go and ask that! Mary silently cursed herself, but it was too late to take the question back. Her body once again began to shake with dread at the thought of the dangerous ground she was treading.

Taking a deep breath Mary said "something really bad. Something I couldn't tell you about. Something you would hate me for." Ib sat for a moment before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around her trembling sister. "Mary I could never hate you, you know that." Pulling back she offered a smile. "Together forever remember?"

Together forever

It was a promise the two of them had made when they were both young. It was something Mary desperately wanted to be true, more than anything else in the world. As if those two words could forgive any wrong. As if they could wash away the blood that had been spilled.

"Yeah…" She said wistfully, a small smile on her face. "I remember." Ib sat for another minute, gently massaging Mary's shoulder. "Whatever's wrong, you can tell me when you're ready. I promise we'll find a way to work it out." Mary gave a murmur of gratitude in response. "Thank you Ib. I'll… I'll tell you about it sometime, but right now… I just can't."

Giving Mary's shoulder one last squeeze, Ib stood up and made her way to the door. "Whenever you're ready." She said with a reassuring smile. As Ib left, the cold sense of despair returned just as strong as before. Mary curled up on her bed with a whimper, and sent out a prayer to whatever deity might be listening.

Please! Don't let anything happen.

Don't let her remember!