"Tell me why you think you know me."

Jessa looked startled, then worried. "I'm wrong? I was so sure..."

"No, you're not wrong. I want to know why you think you do."

She thought, deeply it seemed to him, but finally shook her head, frustrated. When he nodded toward a chair, she sat down as if it were an afterthought.

"It will all come back. It always does."

She nodded. "Just like I do." She looked so surprised at what had come out of her mouth that he nearly laughed. Would have, probably, if it all weren't all so obviously upsetting for her.

"Do you want something to drink? To eat?"

"Yes."

"Which one?"

"Yes."

This time, he did laugh. It felt good to do that again. He was a little vague on when the last time was, but it was probably with her. Or with who she was. Come back to me all the way. I need you.

It was easy to get a meal sent in; it was easy for him to do anything he wanted here. Almost anything. Some things were never easy, no matter what the other circumstances. She was more hungry than she'd been letting on, too. The look on her face when they brought it in was far more pain than anticipation. He waited until they were alone again. "You don't have to be polite around me. I'm not going to sneer. Eat."

A last considering look, and she did. He set aside his soup because it was too hot; she simply picked up her bowl and drank it in three gulps. He ended up pushing most of his food toward her. She glanced up once, then set to it. When she finally settled back in her chair, the desperation gone from her eyes, she considered the carnage and the sandwich that was left. "You eat that. You can't go without."

He smiled and picked up the sandwich. He could get more if he really wanted it - which he didn't - but he couldn't refuse her. He never had been able to do that, not when she was fussing over him in some way or another.

She sat looking around, obviously trying not to stare at him, saying nothing until the sandwich was gone. The moment it was, she was ready. "You know what's happening to me, don't you?"

"Yes. It's happening to me, too."

"Then tell me."

"I can't. You have to remember it yourself."

"Why?"

"Because you won't believe me. And it might...go badly. I know you don't have any reason to trust me right now, but you will. Can you run on that for a little longer?"

She nodded. "I do trust you. And you won't tell me why that is, either, right?"

"No. I'm sorry." But what could he tell her that wouldn't only make it worse? Someone murdered you in front of me, shot you in the face while you sat two inches away from me. You died in a fire, trying to save our daughter; neither of you made it out. Suicide. A car accident, cancer, an overdose that was probably an accident. You die, I'm helpless to save you, but every time I come back stronger, with more power, more money, more control over everything but that. And every time I think maybe this is the time you won't die right in front of me, that this time I'll be able to stop it. He could tell her that, but what good could it possibly do? "I know something else I can tell you."

"What?"

"What you want to do now. Go ahead, it's all right." He always knew; some things changed, but this, not ever.

"Uhm...are you sure?"

He nodded. She hesitated, but finally she got up and came around next to him, pulling her chair along with her. She was still hesitant after she sat down, but finally she reached out, for his beard first, naturally, but almost immediately up to his cheekbones, first one then the other, with just her fingertips.

He ached, body and soul. How many times? After sex, when he was tired or angry or injured, just because she was craving contact, how many times had she done this?

"Whatever it is, it hurts you. Why won't you let me help?"

"You are helping."

"Not as much as I could be. I'm stupid and confused now, but I'm not going to be forever. I know that, too."

"Not stupid. You've never been that. Confused is all. That's going to pass."

She leaned in, as if she was doing it before she lost her nerve, and kissed him. It wasn't a seduction, but it wasn't exactly chaste, either. It was the kiss of a woman who knew she had every right and reason to be doing it. When she'd been so sure of that before, everything had come back to her sooner. He knew what would speed it along even more, but that had to be her decision. He could kiss her back, though. That was all right. Not enough, but all right.

"Do you remember where you came here from?"

She went to wherever she was finding tatters of memory. "It was cold. A lot of snow. Mountains. I was - " Her eyes went from normal to enormous fast enough to make him wonder if it hurt. "We're married? I mean, we were married...?"

"We were." Please don't let her remember the rest. Not yet. Not until she can let me help her get through it. She isn't ready for that.

"Why is this happening? What good can it be doing anyone?"

"That, I truly don't know."

"Do you know what I'm supposed to do now?"

"You can stay with me if you're all right with that Or I can make other arrangements."

She considered, but not for very long. "It's okay. You're not going to hurt me."

"No, I'm not." Not that, ever. He never had. Not once in all the horrors had he been forced to live through that. Time and again he'd been unable to stop what was happening, but he'd never started it. He was relieved that she would be close by - not just out of fear of her deciding the best choice was to just wander off again, but because if this played out as it had so many times, she would do a lot of her remembering in dreams. In nightmares. He wanted to be near at hand if it went that way again.

"You know, about half of my brain is screaming at me that there are at least a dozen really good reasons to be afraid of you."

"But you're not."

"No. The other half thinks that's the most foolish thing imaginable."

He wished he could be so sure. It wasn't the first time he'd wondered if being away from him would keep her alive. But sending her away was the one thing he couldn't bear to do. What if this was the time it finally wasn't going to happen, and he drove her off? It was the only thing more unbearable than the thought of it all happening again.