Disclaimer - I don't own Redwall. This is written for ONC 2022, but the prompt I picked for this was prompt was number seventy, "His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at me. 'You have no idea who I am, do you?'." This is also written for the 21st Froday Madness using the prompt of Somebody lives/Not everyone dies which happens to coincide. The piece will be between 20-40k. It is one of eight ONC projects for this year.

Fading Rose Petals

A gray haze—

The entire world was covered in a gray haze, a touch grayer than other parts of the woods he'd explored while never being a true dark like some of the darkest recesses. Despite or in spite of, making out his surroundings proved difficult, with the trees constantly shifting, never keeping their shape as he moved forward, continually searching, never finding what he was looking for.

Leaves crunched. Water—there was the sound of water, yet the sound wasn't like the rain or the sound of paw steps through puddles of murky gray water. Leaves drifted around in the puddled water as he continued his search for not only what alluded him in the gray haze, but what exactly it was that he was looking for, as he didn't remember what it was.

There was another sound, almost like the wind, but not the wind, making the young mouse turn around, trying to find that one thing that always seemed outside of the grasp of his paw. The sound continued, becoming more precise and less like the wind and more like a voice calling out his name.

"Martin," the voice called out to the young mouse warrior. "Martin." There was something haunting about the way they called out to him. "Martin."

There was something that made him turn in the direction of the voice, trying to figure out what precisely he was looking for, let alone what the voice might have to do with whatever kept evading the grasp of his mind. And in turning, he saw—

—a mousemaiden with a broken body, her dress decaying as her thin digits of her front paws reached out to point at him. He stared, confused, before saying. "I don't understand."

Her cold and lifeless eyes continued to stare at him, and then she said, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Panic began to set in, his mind knowing he should remember her, remember her face yet a name—a name never came to his lips before he woke up in a cold sweat. A firm paw gripped his shoulder, shaking him, the nightmare quickly fading as he stared out into the dark room, feeling completely unsure of his surroundings. His whiskers twitched in panic as his back muscles spasmed.

He felt another beast's breath upon one of his ears, calming him, drawing him back into reality by saying his name while the memory of the dream—no, nightmare, quickly faded from his broken mind. "Martin," the beast nudged him. "Martin, it's alright."

Martin's eyes blinked. One paw reached up to brush some of the furs next to his ear straight while he turned to look at the other mouse. "T.B.."

"You're here with me. In the dorms," Timballisto muttered, sitting down on the warm bed next to him.

Martin's head turned, his eyes blinking in confusion while the digits of his forepaws twisted into the sheets, taking in the warm bed he found himself in. The smells were familiar, having taken on the feeling of home, although that concept still felt foreign in his mind at the same time. "The dorms?"

"It's one of the first buildings we constructed for the abbey so that the workers would have a place to stay. Or at least, the first set of dorms that you helped Abbess Germaine plan out. Remember?" The older mouse moved closer, gently pulling Martin into a hug that Martin leaned into.

"Remember. I remember, I think. Not Brockhall anymore," Martin said, the pieces of his memories still not coming together. One paw reached up to touch his brow, massaging the pad in to try and ease the train of thought that these days never seemed to come. "I'm sorry for always forgetting."

Timballisto shifted his weight, catching onto the younger mouse's tone of voice. "Hey. We've been over this. That you shouldn't talk like that, and I think any beast wouldn't remember where they were in the dark like this."

"I keep feeling as if I've forgotten something important. A lot of important things, actually," Martin said. "Particularly—sometimes you'll say something, and the answer I give you. I apologized for something, didn't I? Back when we saw each other again, after so many years. You and I talked, said something about going into it when the time was right, but..."

"Martin," Timbalissto sighed, reached a paw up to ruffle the fur on top of Martin's head before rubbing one of the ears. "Please don't."

"I can't remember what it was we were supposed to talk about, and I feel like I need to remember. These dreams..."

"Nightmares. You've been having nightmares," Timballisto corrected, continuing to let Martin lean into him. Martin heard him sigh. "What I wake you from at night is definitely a nightmare."

"One I can't remember," Martin sighed, one paw reaching to tug at the nightgown. Things were different from how they were in the past, although there was in the back of his mind the memory of another warm bed and another place of safety, yet his mind could never come to grip with that place, beyond the feeling of being there was something short-lived. "Why can't I remember?"

"Martin," Timballisto sighed, pulling him closer. He rested his head on the top of the other's head. "It's okay not to remember."

"It doesn't feel okay," Marin sighed, hearing a nighttime cough coming from one of the other dorm rooms. "And if I woke everybeast again..."

"Just me. It's why I started sharing a dorm room with you, just the two of us."

"Because we share a past, a past I've forgotten." Martin bit slightly on his lip, trying to purse out the puzzle he constantly struggled to figure out, yet the answers always evaded him.

He felt Timballisto grab his shoulder blades, squeezing as he let out a sigh. The older mouse rested his forehead on the back of Martin's head. "Martin. Please don't do this to yourself."

"But..." Martin wanted to protest whatever it was that he was doing to his dibbunhood mate despite not knowing precisely what he'd done.

"Come on. Let me get you tucked back into bed," Timballisto said. "And don't worry about not remembering. It doesn't bother me."

"You're..."

"What bothers me is that I'm worried about you," Timballisto sighed. "Letting this 'not remembering' eat you up as you are."

"I don't want to be a burden," Martin mutters as Timballisto purposefully sits up and starts to stroke the top of his head, knowing it will lull Martin into a peaceful sleep. He'd thought of doing it at night before Martin went to bed, yet at the same time, he didn't want to infantize his friend, making him feel like a small dibbun despite everything.

"You're not a burden," Timballisto sighed. "But we are ever so grateful that you're alive. We almost lost you. I almost lost you, the last member of my tribe, my last kin. Blood-related, we may not be, but you've always been my brother. Nothing, nothing will ever change that, but let me be that older brother to you for once."

"For once?" Martin didn't follow, stiffening slightly, as if Timballisto was hinting at something he'd long forgotten. The fact the other mouse, the older mouse, tensed and made him the thing that, yes, indeed, he had forgotten something important.

"Just..." Timballisto stopped speaking, and for a moment, Martin thought the older mouse wouldn't say anything. "Let's just say I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. And I wanted to be."

Martin paused in thought. "Isn't that because I was too stubborn? Wasn't it? I remember that much. And I can be stubborn at times, can't I?"

"You mean like how you're stubbornly refusing to go to sleep?" Timballisto sighed, shaking his head while continuing to stroke the fur on top of Martin's head. "You'll be the death of me, Martin, making me worry about you like this." The other mouse leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "Please. I'm far more worried about your health than whatever it is you've forgotten, but the past is the past."

Yet, in Martin's mind, there was that thing from his past he kept missing, that he couldn't place his paw on. "Is it?"

"Yes, Martin, so put those nightmares behind you. I'll even stay with you through the night, old friend. Just get some sleep, but know you're safe, with me watching over you."

Somehow, Martin managed to fall back asleep into a dreamless sleep.