It was so dark.

She felt nothing. Weightless, floating. Suddenly she felt a hand on her forehead, and someone kissed it. They were saying something, but she couldn't make it out.

Then, crashing into her came roaring pain and light. Tingling muscles, pins and needles up and down her limbs. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion, and she gasped at the cold wind that blew across her face. Her eyes opened fully and squinted at the white sky above her, clapping a trembling hand to her head as she hissed in pain.

Her head throbbed, aching so strong she couldn't think clearly. She had been laying flat on her back, and now slowly turned to her side in a fetal position, eyes watering from the pain. Suddenly her stomach lurched, and she heaved it's contents into the snow.

Snow. She was sitting and had been laying flat on her back in white, powdery snow. Snowflakes drifted down from the sky, lazy and calm, unaware of her pain and confusion. Dark trees made up a forest around her, their tall, black branches clawing at the white sky. No birds or animals could be heard, and in her blurred vision she saw a backpack four feet away from her, surrounded by footprints. Later she'd remember that they were mixed - some humanoid, some huge and feline, and some that she couldn't identify, but knew they were deadly due to the long claw marks left in the snow.

Supplies, she thought, and with a moan pulled herself into a crawling position, trying to muster up the strength to get to it. In the chill of the wintery air, she needed a fire and a blanket. She didn't know how she knew, but an image of matches told her they were safely tucked inside the pack.

She crawled on hands and knees. The snow beneath her was cold and wet, and she shivered again, feeling her knees grow colder through her jeans and her bare hands stinging at the touch of the frozen earth. The light jacket she was wearing wasn't warm enough in this snow. Have to get warm, she told herself. Then I can rest. She also needed to get out of the open - she was especially vulnerable here, and was in no shape to defend herself.

She felt something warm trickling down her neck, and she paused to touch it with her hand. Her fingers came back with blood on them, and when she touched the back of her head she winced in pain. Something had struck her, and left her for dead.

That doesn't make sense, her brain told her, I was laying on my back. How could something get me from behind and yet I woke up on my back? But like all her other thoughts, they drifted away in unimportance and were dulled by her headache and the immediate need for shelter.

The back pack was soon in her grip, and she opened it with shaky, weak hands. Her skin was even darker brown against the snow, and through her blurred vision she could make out a blanket and a bottle of water. She took a drink, feeling herself calm down and her head slightly clear.

Inside of the backpack she found the matches, a small lantern, kindling, food to last her a week if she was careful, a cast iron saucepan and mug, a change of clothes, a mens size large jacket. Not mine, she thought, looking at her own jacket, brown with wool lining draped around her shoulders. A phone lay inside, and she quickly grabbed it to call 911.

Help, she thought, tapping the screen. It lit up to a picture of a young man. She peered closely, confused. He was beaming at her through the picture, his dark brown eyes and curly hair somehow extremely familiar. His pink varsity jacket was hot pink, and she had to look away from the bright color as it made her headache worse. His name was on the tip of her tongue…she was so sure she knew him. Why can't I remember?!

Something rose up in her. A feeling of such passion and determination that it cleared her head a little, and she realized that she would die for that boy if it meant saving him. There was some sort of pact or promise that she had inside, that somehow she was supposed to protect him.

She loved him.

She took a shaky breath and blinked away the fog. So many emotions at once. She couldn't afford to be distracted now. She tapped the phone again, trying to unlock it.

What's the passcode? She wondered. She typed a few random numbers but nothing worked. In the corner she saw no bars and the text where the service carrier should have been told her "No Signal".

Must not be my phone? She guessed. Surely she would know the passcode to her own phone.

Repacking the items carefully, she slowly got to her feet, wrapping a strap of the backpack around her hand, prepared to drag it behind her.

To the east of her (she wasn't sure how she knew it was east, she just did) she saw a dark opening in the side of a mountain. A cave, She thought. Camp for tonight.

She started making her way towards it when she stopped. Her eyesight was clearing, and she'd gotten a gut feeling that she wasn't alone. She was…forgetting something. She turned and slowly surveyed her surroundings in a full circle, listening.

There. Something was blowing in the wind. Something brushing, some kind of fabric?

Her strength was waning, but she needed to know. Without even thinking, her hand wandered up to her shoulder and closed around something. She looked and slowly she was pulling a beautiful sword from it's sheath, which was apparently strapped to her back. It was a beautiful pink, and had a bright yellow star on it. Like the boy's shirt, she recognized. Now she was certain she was meant to protect him.

She suddenly froze. She had a sword. It hadn't been drawn. She couldn't have been in a fight then, and she must have been struck when her back was turned, unaware of her attacker.

What had happened to her?

The flapping sound caught her attention again, and with her drawn sword and pack in the other hand, she advanced slowly towards the sound. The snow was quiet and powdery beneath her feet and aided her quiet approach.

She was getting closer. The wind was cold and she shivered, but she steadily advanced. Someone was out here. She wasn't alone.

She slowly noticed that the trees around her had been broken in half. Markings in the snow and fallen trees around her caused her to stare. Some of them were smoldering as if from a fire. A vicious fight had happened here.

The thoughts faded.

A flash of pink caught her eye. Hanging in a tree maybe twenty feet away was -

"His jacket," she breathed, staring as it rustled and flapped in the cold wind. It was in tatters, strung up by the branches about ten feet above her head. She recognized the color and the left sleeve as it blew lazily back and forth. Adrenaline filled her veins and she ran awkwardly with a new energy towards it. Please be okay, she thought to herself. Please don't be hurt!

At the base of the tree she found him. He was laying on his side, face turned away from her. She dropped to her knees at his side and gently turned him, gazing at his face.

His eyes were closed, and his lips and fingers were blue from the cold. All he had on was a black t-shirt with a yellow star on it's chest, his jeans, and a pair of hiking boots, so she took off her own jacket and wrapped it tightly around him. She felt for a pulse, and found a weak one. She felt him over for broken bones, assuming he had fallen from the tree where his jacket hung. Nothing was broken, but he was pale and still. Strangely there were dark spots on his arms and face that were fading from sight, as if - his bruises are healing on their own? She thought, blinking, not sure if she could trust her eyes.

His curly hair was wet from the snow, and his sweet face looked so tired. His soft breath, visible as steam in the cold air, touched her face as she pulled him to her. She shivered as she rubbed his arms, rubbing warmth back into him.

What had happened to them?

She sighed, and the question, like all the others, vanished as she looked at the face of her boy. His long eyelashes didn't stir as she rocked him, and she pressed her cold cheek against his, hoping that some sort of warmth would get to him.

We need that cave, she thought, but how will I get him there?

She looked around and saw some large tree limbs laying about. She gently laid him down and as quickly as her sluggish body allowed her, she pulled them closer to her boy, and unpacked the rope and blanket from the backpack. Tying the rope in knots around each limb in a criss-crossing pattern, she tucked the blanket into it, creating a make-shift stretcher she could pull. For a moment she paused, staring at her surroundings, having forgotten what she was doing. Then she caught sight of her boy and the stretcher, and was reminded.

Am I okay? She wondered, uneasy at how easily she had forgotten the present danger, but the question vanished as she gently she rolled the boy onto the stretcher, tucking her jacket around him. She made sure he wouldn't roll off, and with a grunt and a sharp pain in her skull again, she heaved and pulled the stretcher slowly towards the cave. She puffed and her breath came like steam in the cold air before her, and she strained as she dragged the boy and the backpack through the thickening snow.

She struggled through, the wind howling and tossing her dark hair around in her face, and she could feel her fingers aching from the cold. Her arms shook as she fought to keep a tight grip, and as she huffed and puffed the cold air was sharp in her lungs, making them burn.

We will make it, she thought to herself, grunting with every step, eyes focused on the cave as it grew closer and closer. I will save him, and we will get out of here! Her head throbbed painfully, and she winced, closing one eye.

She had her boy. She could protect him now.

After one last effort, she collapsed inside of the cave, dragging the stretcher in behind her. She lay there, gasping, for several minutes. Without her jacket her arms and upper body had been soaked by the blowing snow, and she shivered uncontrollably.

Fire. Start a Fire.

She moaned and pulled herself up, drawing her sword from it's sheath and advancing to the back of the cave. She was shaky, and moaned as she wobbled like a drunken sailer. No other inhabitants were there, not that she could have fought them off anyway.

She made a small fire out of the tree limbs she had used for the stretcher and the matches she had in her pack. She gently rolled the boy off of the blanket, using her jacket as a temporary pillow on the hard ground. He was still, and remained unconscious.

She bit her lip. She needed to get him out of those clothes or he could get sick.

Taking a deep breath, she unbuttoned his pants, and tugged them off. Gently she draped her jacket over his waist, trying to keep him somewhat dignified. She would pretend she never saw his white underwear. After digging around in her pack, she found a pair of fleece pajama pants that were far too big for her, but would definitely fit him. She gently pulled them onto him, and felt much better about his level of clothing. We must have planned to stay for a little while, she thought to herself as she gazed at the items they had packed. What brought us here? We packed for a week in the wilderness, with just the bare necessities. Why?

Again, the thoughts melted into nothingness after a few minutes. She returned to her boy and lifted his arms, pulling off his soaked shirt. A pink sparkle caught her eye, and she stared at the pink gem that replaced his bellybutton. It hummed softly, and she cocked her head at it. I don't remember that, she thought, and reaching forward, touched it.

No response.

She shrugged it off, too tired and in too much pain to be truly shocked by his gem. Using the rope from the pack she made a clothes line draping from one stalagmite to another. Hanging his clothes there to dry, she turned and gently wrapped the blanket around him, keeping him close enough to the fire to stay warm but not catch if a spark landed on the blanket. He lay on his side, breathing peacefully.

She kissed his forehead, and took back her jacket. With sluggish movements she pulled it on. They needed more firewood if they were going to survive the night, which meant she couldn't rest yet.

There were trees not three feet away from the mouth of the cave, but using her sword like a saw exhausted her. After chopping the logs, trying to be accurate and safe but barely able to keep her balance, she walked slowly back to the cave with wobbly legs. Her vision was growing blurry again, and her breathing had become wheezy.

Dropping the logs nearby, she added one to the fire and changed into the dry clothes in the backpack. She only had some fleece leggings, a fresh pair of underwear, wool socks and a snug, soft, pullover t-shirt. For her boy she only had the pajama pants, but his clothes would be dry by morning. She hung her wet garments next to his, and then turned back to the fire, stumbling a little as she came to his side.

He hadn't moved in her absence, and she worried. Surely he would wake soon?

She yawned, and her head ached again, this time almost blinding her in pain. She felt her head, and moaned as she felt a fever and slightly nauseous.

Sleep, she thought to herself. Sleep for my boy, and sleep for…

for…

who...

who am I?

Suddenly she gasped, hands trembling with the realization as she finally had the presence of mind to understand that -

I don't remember who I am. I can't remember anything. I have amnesia.

She held her head in her hands. Again, pain dulled all other information or emotion. She was gasping for air. Feeling nothing and everything at once, tears of terror and anger and despair all in one instant. And then the pain -

She gasped, holding her head, gulping, sobbing in the cave. The only other sounds were the howling wind outside, and the crackling fire within. Suddenly her stomach lurched again, and she scrambled to the opening of the cave, vomiting into the snow.

The cold air calmed her, and felt good against her tear-stained face. She cleaned her mouth with some snow and dried it with her sleeve, taking great gulps of air. Suddenly she was too cold, and with one last look at the darkening sky she crawled back into the cave.

She caught sight of her boy, sleeping beside the fire. His face was peaceful as he slept, and she saw the color was returning to his cheeks. She suddenly longed to be in his arms, safe and sound, and the thought was familiar, as if she had been in his arms before.

Tears welled up in her eyes, as she felt lost, sick, confused, and in terrible pain. Moaning softly, she crawled to him, shivering. After the long hours of pushing through to be able to survive, she just wanted comfort.

He lay on his side, facing the fire. She wobbled over, sliding in under the blanket behind his back, his shadow shielding her from the bright firelight and giving her eyes a chance to rest in darkness. He took a deep breath in his sleep, unconsciously turned towards her, nestled his face into her hair, and wrapped his arm around her. Her eyes widened, and she held her breath, but he didn't wake. His arm was heavy but calmed her, as if the weight would keep her safe and connected to the sturdy ground beneath her. He squeezed, pressing her to his chest, and made a contented noise deep in his throat.

She slowly laid a hand over his, her cold fingers aching as his warm ones gently coaxed them back to a healthy temperature.

Tears slowly seeped from her eyes as she gazed at the ceiling, eyes not focused on anything as they slowly closed. He was holding her tightly, and she felt safe. Slowly, as questions and terrors were gently silenced by exhaustion, the gift of sleep came to her and pulled her into total darkness.