"So... this is my home." Fayte said as she walked through the oak door and into her livingroom. She ran her hands over the soft plush back of the purple couch. She noticed the picture frames and sat by the coffee table. She ran her fingertips over the various frames and faces. "And these.. Are my friends?"

Linda nodded from the doorway and stepped forward. "They are. Well, your old friends in London. You don't have any photos of your new friends yet." She said, sitting on the couch next to her. "Are you tired? Do you need anything?"

Fayte nodded. "I am a bit tired, actually. Thank you." she said and stood. She walked over to her bedroom and Linda followed with wide eyes.

"Fayte.. How did you know where your room was?" she asked.

"I... I dunno. It just felt natural." Fayte said softly, she shrugged and walked into the bedroom.

"I'll leave you to your rest, then. You sure you don't need anything else?"

"I'm sure, Linda. Thank you."

Linda nodded and left. She needed to call Warren.

Fayte sighed as she lay on her bed. It seemed so familiar, yet so foreign. She sat up and looked over at the window. It was way too dark in the room. She walked over to it and pulled the sheet back, letting the sun shine through the sheer drapes. She looked over at the piano in the corner and crossed over to it. She ran her fingers over the keys and sat down.

She hesitantly pressed a few random keys with her fingertips, hearing the sounds. She placed all of her fingers on the keys and played the short, choppy version of a melody she didnt even know she could play. After a minute, she played the whole song and sat back with wide eyes.

"When did I learn to..." she trailed off as another memory flooded her mind.

:Flashback:

' "Now, press that key right there and play that same melody with your left hand." A five year old Fayte looked up happily at her mom.

"I did it, mommy! I played it!" the small girl threw her arms around her mother's neck and hugged tightly. The woman laughed and hugged her child back.'

:End flashback:

Fayte shook her head as tears fell. "Mom.." she whispered softly and rested her arms on the keys, she put her head down on them as she cried, a loud clang resounded through the room as her head fell upon them.

She didnt know how long she was asleep at the piano, but she was awakened by a soft knock at the door. She curiously walked over to it. "Hello?" she asked.

"Fayte, it's me." she heard that same boy's voice that was in her hospital room earlier. She opened the door slowly.

"You're Warren, right?" she asked, after trying to remember his name. She could see the pain in his eyes as he nodded.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, resting his hand on the doorframe.

"Much better, actually." She ushered him in with a bandaged hand.

"That's good." he said, walking into the home he had come to love so much.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll put some tea on."

Warren nodded and sat on the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his chin in his hands. It felt so strange to come into this room, they had shared so many memories in it, yet she didnt remember a single one.

"Here you go." she said, handing him a mug. "I'm really sorry about earlier.. I was really afraid when I woke up.." Warren nodded, smiling softly.

"I could tell." he said, taking a sip of chamomile. Fayte let out a quiet laugh and sat next to him.

"I'm really sorry that I don't remember you too well.." she said sincerely, placing her tea on the coffee table. "Linda said that we were..." she trailed off when she saw his dark eyes turn sad once more.

"We were.." he affirmed, his voice broke slightly, but he kept the tears from falling.

"I do hope you can help me remember." Fayte said, saddened by his sorrowful expression. She reached out and touched his hand that was resting on the cushion between them. He tensed slightly, then covered her hand with his, squeezing slightly.

"Don't worry, Fayte." he said, looking into her gray-blue eyes. "I will help you remember." Fayte smiled and nodded. On impulse, Warren leaned in slowly, watching her eyes for any sort of resentment. She looked a little afraid, but she didnt pull away. She just squeezed his hand. Warren closed the distance and gently put his lips to hers. Fayte sighed and closed her eyes, kissing back softly.

He pulled away and she looked at him, expressionless.

"Warren.. I remember something." she said, softly.

"What? What do you remember?" he asked, hopeful.

"I remember a rainy night.. On a bridge. I was crying and then you came. You gave me your over-shirt and kissed me. Was that when...?"

"Yes. That was the night we confessed what we felt for each other." he smiled.

"And then.. We danced. We came back here and you sang something for me before I fell asleep.."

"Yeah." Warren nodded slowly.

"Could you.. Sing it again? I think it might help.." she said, standing and walking into the bedroom. Warren hesitated for a moment, then followed. He glanced at the bed and sighed. He had missed sleeping in it beside her, perfectly content and warm with her in his arms.

"Do you want me to play as well?" he asked, looking at the piano.

"I.. Don't know." she said. "I think it would help spur more memories if it was sung in about the same setting and context as the first time." she blushed slightly. "It's up to you."

Warren smiled softly, considering for a moment. "I think it would help you more as well." he said. He pulled off his jacket and hung it on a chair.

Fayte tried not to eye him when he was left in only his jeans and a white muscle top. She could clearly see every muscle defined beneath it. That brought on another memory and she blushed furiously.

"You alright?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I-it's nothing!" she said, turning her face away. Warren walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, causing her to blush more.

"You can tell me anything, Fayte. You know that." he whispered softly and kissed her cheek. Fayte froze.

"I.. I know.. I remember.." she said, her breathing quickening as his lips caressed her neck.

"Good." he said and pulled back from her. "Now do you still need me to sing?" he smirked.

"I.. I think that may be for the best." she said softly, blushing. 'When the bloody hell did I become so bold? America has changed me, I swear..'