Warning: This story will contain graphic depictions of violence, mature language, abuse and lemons in later chapters.

Chapter Ten

-Remember Not-

January 22nd 2018

Masen's Cottage

I woke up sometime last night in an unfamiliar bed, after being plagued most of the night with nightmares. I don't know what to think about the bits and pieces coming back to me. It feels like I'm listening to someone else tell me the story of my life, but from such an expansive distance I can only grasp a few sentences here and there. There is so much I don't know, and sometimes I hope it stays that way.

If my dreams are to be believed, I'm someone's wife. Someone must be out there looking for me...right?

But I can never be found.

The man that may be looking for me is barely human, and whatever girl he victimized is long gone. I'm still grieving the loss of her life, but I can't ignore the start of my own.

That's not to say her pain doesn't still bleed into mine.

I'm afraid my new friend will smell the dirt on me. Sense that my body is broken in more ways than one and therefore desecrated. I think that's why I can't seem to feel ashamed or self conscious about my charred and flawed frame. What does it matter if someone is horrified by my scars or my abused limbs? Even if those markings of destruction disappeared tomorrow, the damage goes deeper. It slithers between my bones and into the muscle and has made its way to my heart.

Masen is asleep now, finally resting. He refuses to sleep on the small bed, instead he sleeps on the old rocking chair by the fire. He claims he didn't use the bed even before I came, and now that I'm here I need it more than he ever did.

It's almost dawn. Maybe I should make breakfast for us both. The oatmeal he served us last night I have already burned through, and I'm already looking forward to the next meal.

Anyway, life goes on. I tell myself that Seb and Ephraim will wait for me, that they got along without me before and they can get along with my absence now. But I miss them, and some secret part of me holds hope they miss me too.

I'm going to go make breakfast for Masen and I.

When I get home I'll add these pages to my journal. For now they live tucked under the mattress.

Until next time,

Doe.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I perched on the stool near the wood burning oven, attempting to stir the canned soup over the burner while also staying seated. My mind wandered as the broth slowly bubbled, replaying my dreams over and over in my head.

"You didn't have to do that". Masen stretched sleepily by the door, his biceps extending then relaxing as he rolled them awake. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his emerald eyes were a bit fuzzy with sleep. "You could've woken me, I would've helped." His voice was husky and low, not yet softened by hot coffee.

I tossed the empty soup can at him. "You provided the food. That's help enough."

His lips curved, and tossed the can into the trash. "Alright then. I'm going to head out in a few and try to get that stuff you left behind, as well as check the snares. Want to come?"

I was surprised at the invitation. I was almost expecting him to keep me holed up here until he had deemed my leg was rested enough and I had fully recovered from my illness. But no, he respected my decision enough to trust I knew myself best.

It was strange having the authority to make my own decisions.

"Do you think the horse ride would be okay on my leg?"

He nodded. "I don't imagine sitting for ten hours could be any better for it. And we can keep you warm and dry during the ride. We aren't going far. Maybe a couple miles."

I took a moment to think, stirring the soup. I looked back at him and nodded. "Okay yeah, sure. I'll come."

Masen nodded once and grabbed two mugs, spooning the soup into each and serving mine with a spoon.

He downed his with a couple long gulps, then after wiping his mouth, got to work preparing for the ride.

I quickly cleaned the pot and mugs, using the bucket of water he kept under the sink to rinse the chipped porcelain. The little cottage was fairly well stocked, lots of canned food and dried goods he claimed he found tucked away inside the pantry. The cottage he told me wasn't his, and had been left empty in the storm. It was seemingly untouched, as if someone went into town and fully believed to back by evening. Masen had claimed to even find a deer carcass hanging in the cellar, beginning its dehydrating process to be turned to jerky or salted venison.

Masen had stayed a few days, waiting for the owner to return, but when that never happened he took advantage of the shelter and resources provided to him.

After 20 minutes or so I had bundled myself up, and Masen lifted me by my hips onto the back of Leah.

"She's a ornery one. But loyal as a dog." He placed the bit in her mouth, and handed the reins to me. "You have any riding experience?"

I shook my head. "Not that I remember at least."

He nodded, not pressing. "I'll guide us then." he put one hand on the saddle, and heaved himself behind me. His body was once again pressed closely to my back as he wrapped a thick blanket around both of us.

His movements were smooth and sure, leading us into the stormy winds and rain.

As we rode over dampened terrain and melting mountains of snow, Masen removed his baseball cap and placed it on my head, protecting me from the chill. The small gesture brought a smile to my lips as I felt him shake the rain from his brow.

As we rode, I gently stroked the soft fur of Leah. She was a fairly young mare, only seven or so. She was long, lean and muscular. Her fur was a dark mahogany color, and her eyes somehow deeper in color than her long black mane. She was attuned to Masen's movements, and several times I had noticed the reins had gone limp as Leah successfully found purchase in certain trails, and guided us herself.

We didn't talk much during the ride, falling into a comforting silence. As we neared our destination I heard Masen murmur in my ear. "How are you doing?"

I closed my eyes briefly. Everything he did felt so intimate and gentle, the newness of the butterflies in my stomach always seemed to startle me.

"I'm okay. Are we close?"

I felt him nod behind me. "We were only three miles from the cottage when you saw the bear."

As he said this I began to recognize the wilderness I had been found in. The trees had begun that ominous bending inwards, creating the tunnel like experience from before. The rain once again wasn't finding much room to drip down to us.

I swallowed, pushing down a wave of uncertainty and fear. Masen felt my spine stiffen and pulled the blanket tighter around me.

Leah slowed into a walk, and I stroked the side of her neck. I found her calmness and certainty soothing.

"How long have you had her?"

"She was a gift from a friend. Probably three years ago?" I could hear the smile in his voice. "She was living on a farm close to the park I worked in. She had been bought to haul and pull farming equipment, but she kept breaking out and I found her wandering the park."

"She's lucky she found you." I remembered my luck in the woods and shivered.

Masen rubbed my shoulder gently, having again picked up on my train of thought.

"We both were. The last time she escaped the old man told me to keep her, and that she was too wild for honest work."

Either by coincidence or some level understanding Leah let out a snort.

He laughed. "She's been with me ever since."

I stroked her wet mane. "I don't think I've ever ridden a horse before." The feeling of Leah moving underneath me with strong and swift movements, although calming, felt so new to me I knew it had to be the first time.

Up ahead I could see my makeshift wheelbarrow, turned on its side in the snow. Masen brought Leah closer, and strapped the handle of the wheelbarrow to her rump with a rope, letting it glide along behind us as he collected a rabbit and a raccoon from the snares.

We loaded the bodies into the wheelbarrow and set off for the cottage once again.

The ride back took slightly longer with our new items, and the rain pooled in the basin with the bodies. I felt the cold seep in through the wet blanket around us and shivered as I ducked from the rain.

Masen seemed concerned with my discomfort, and as soon as we arrived back he insisted I take another warm bath and settled me with a warm cup of tea.

The adventure outside had felt wonderfully independent, even if Masen could have done the job in half the time alone. He never rushed me or made me feel like a hindrance. I was learning he was a man of few words, but all of them kind and comforting to my weary bones.

I helped him skin the animals and salt the meat. He said he would use the raccoon for bait as eating the meat ourselves was just too risky.

We ate canned green beans and tinned tuna for dinner, too tired to cook and neither of us had much of an appetite.

When evening came I sat back on the small bed, toasty from my bath, and read one of the books I had found stashed away in a shoebox under the bed.

It was a very well loved copy of Wuthering Heights, a leather bound copy of Romeo and Juliet, and a paperback of Jane Eyre.

I plucked the first novel, carefully reading by firelight. Masen took his place in his chair, and got to work weaving netting for another project I was sure would be revealed to me tomorrow.

I lost myself in the pages of my story book. I found myself angry at Jane's treatment, and at one point closed the book on my lap and rubbed my temples.

Masen glanced over, and raised one dark arched eyebrow in my direction.

I saw his gaze and sighed. "Sorry. I'm not used to fiction." I shrugged and set the book aside.

Masen frowned. "You read mostly non-fiction?"

"Oh, well I guess. That's all we have at the Church. Ephraim and Seb use them as textbooks. Sometimes I read them aloud to help out." When his questioning frown didn't smooth I continued. "I... Ephraim is the priest here. And Seb is staying with him for now. At least until whatever is going on stops."

"You mean the storm?"

I nodded, braiding my hair away from my face. "It's a little more complicated." I glanced over at him. I had removed the sweater and elected to wear a long cotton t-shirt, rolled up at the cuffs. "I guess I'm not very good at explaining this. You're only the third person I've met."

Masen's attention was fixed on me now. He set the net aside and turned to face me. His wild hair curling over his brow, now coiled and darkened from rain water, and his sea green eyes fixed on mine. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I gathered you didn't choose to be here."

I laughed at that, and looked up at the ceiling, twirling the ends of my braid in my fingers. "I didn't choose any of this." I let out a long breath, and looked once more at him.

He wore a brown leather jacket over a long sleeved black sweater. He looked every inch the stranger he was, but those eyes and that gentle touch warmed my insides.

"The accident I was in, it was a plane accident."

His expression didn't change, and his eyes didn't move to the uncovered scars on my skin. He just listened.

"I don't remember most of my life. Or my name."

His brow furrowed.

"Seb named me Doe. I met him and Ephraim soon after I crashed. I was pretty torn up. They patched me up and gave me a place to stay." I shook my head, closing my eyes briefly, letting my lashes touch my cheeks. "It's been good actually. Really good." I smiled a little. "You are another stranger, but you have been kind to me, like them."

Masen leaned back in his chair for a moment, watching me. The gentle giant churning the information I had given him into some workable premise. I knew he must have questions, but he only nodded.

"Do you have any family you can remember?" His voice was lower than before, almost gravelly.

My throat closed and my hands fisted. "I...um...it's..." My throat closed tightly and I could almost smell that awful cologne. The words died in my throat as I struggled against the question.

I felt the bed dip beside me and he took my hands in his. "Shhh... it's alright."

My hands gripped tight fists in his. No one had asked me that since I had my dreams, and suddenly the tears began to fall in hot useless drops against my cheeks. "Sorry...I..."

"Shhh..." He moved me gently to his chest, and stroked my back as I cried. When my tears turned into sniffles he spoke quietly into my hair.

I cried quietly, feeling quite overwhelmed and more than a bit tired of my own complications. I felt like a burden, a ticking time bomb falling into someone else's responsibility again and again. It's an indescribable feeling.

"I was married once." His voice murmured into my hair, gently smoothing my braid as he held me. "She got pregnant last May...and died during the delivery." He whispered. "That's where I'm going when the storm passes. To scatter their ashes in the town she was born in."

I blinked up at him through watery eyes and swiped them away with the back of my hand. "I'm so sorry." I whispered back, my voice cracking under the weight of the world seemingly falling down upon us. I couldn't help but imagine him surrounded by a family he no doubt deserved to have. A family that loved him, and he loved back.

We stayed like that for a few hours, not speaking. The only sound around us was the rain and the occasional sniffle from me and the crackle of the fire consuming its fuel.

The night crept over us and at some point we fell asleep in each others comforting embrace. His upper body leaning against the wall, his bearded chin tucked over my head as I slept soundly sprawled over his lap.

I dreamed of blissful orchards and trees, growing slowly over spring and into summer. I think my my mind had simply had enough, and whatever darkness lay in my memories were vehemently discarded, if only for the night.

The man who sheltered me in his arms seemed exhausted as I was, and just for a moment I didn't worry about Ephraim and Seb, the husband who had violated me in so many ways, the woman in the cemetery I had convinced myself was a hallucination, or the stranger I now sought shelter with amidst the stormy winter. I was content to rest in a warm bed, with a man who I believed wouldn't hurt me. He smelled so nice. And his arms around me felt safe and warm.

The strange thing about losing one's memory is not only the empty slate in which you begin to regrow your life, but the knowledge that each moment you experience, is now a first.

I may not know Masen well, or understand his motives, but his experience and gentleness made making new memories less overwhelming.

When I woke briefly in the night and realized our entanglement I felt his soft breath on my neck, and his forearm holding me tightly against him in sleep. His brow was furrowed, and I couldn't help but smooth my thumb over the small dent in his skin.

His brow relaxed and he let out a breath, seeming younger in sleep with his copper flecked hair pushed over his eyes.

I didn't feel the urge to label how I felt, or analyze the speed in which I found myself so truly comfortable in his world. I closed my eyes and took a breath, inhaling his scent and curling my toes.

Tomorrow would bring answers and doubt. Tonight, I was determined to find peace.

We slept soundly to the sound of rain, and I tried to let myself enjoy the peace Masen offered. I felt for the first time like a woman.

Maybe he only sheltered me because of my circumstances. And maybe he only offered the warmth of his touch because he himself was grieving. But tonight I would allow myself the fantasy that he felt the pull I felt, because right now in this moment, he was becoming my favorite first.

A/N: This story has two main points of inspiration. The first is "The Long Dark" by Hinterland Studios. There are some elements of this story I am borrowing, but the premise is mine alone. This is a gorgeous, gripping and enchanting game. I highly recommend you play it.

The second is "Washed Up" By xrxdanixrx. I loved this story and the idea of amnesia came from reading. I encourage you all to read this wonderful story.

Stephanie Meyer is the sole owner of the Twilight Franchise, and she owns all related characters you may see here. This is merely a fanfiction of her work.