Tori Brown lay on Professor Grabiner's bed, her eyes closed. She didn't stir. She hadn't stirred since she had passed out on the floor earlier that day. Her pulse was strong, and Professor Grabiner could still feel her heartbeat when he grabbed the stone around his neck, but she wouldn't wake up. He had been able to snap her out of it before, and she had needed time to rest and recover, but this was different. Tori Brown was not a light sleeper. Before, she was always stirring and moving, whimpering and murmuring in her sleep. She was restless by day and restless by night, but it wasn't showing now. Now she lay there, perfectly still, her breathing too shallow and rhythmic for it to be normal. It looked as though she had simply got up and crawled out of her body, leaving a vacant, breathing shell behind.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Professor Grabiner got up from the bedside to open it. Professor Potsdam walked through the doorway, looking more serious than usual. "She remembered?" she asks immediately.

"She remembered everything," he sighs as he sits down again, picking up on one her hands between both of his. "She hasn't woken up since."

"What did you tell her?" Potsdam asks, checking Tori's pulse for herself.

He frowns. "Surprisingly? Nothing." Potsdam looks at him skeptically. "I kissed her. I didn't realize that that would let her piece everything together for herself. She went to Ms. Cochran for answers. She confirmed something was going on, but didn't reveal any specifics. I confronted her about it and she remembered everything."

"Do you still have your magic?" Potsdam asks, and he nods. He held out his hand and let a small orb of light come out of his palm effortlessly. That had been his first spell as a child. It was different for wildseeds. They were already older when they came to Iris and learned magic, so their first real spell was probably one of classroom instruction. It was different for magical children; their first spell was basically akin to their first word.

"Well," Potsdam sighs. "It means we can probably revive her."

"Probably?" he echoes. "I've tried everything. It's different this time, she's not even moving."

"I've been in contact with some of the leading experts on memory spells," she tells him. "Just in case this happened."

There's something in her tone that Hieronymous picks up on. "In case?" he asks, his voice getting louder. "What do you mean, in case? Did you know that she was going to figure this out?"

"As you said, Tori's a smart girl. She figured it out herself, as I quite assumed she would." She shakes her head. "It's not that hard to piece together, especially considering how she feels about you." He looks away from her, despondent. "Out with it."

"It's nothing," he says, his lips set firmly in place.

"Tell me before I draw it out of you." He looks at her and can tell she's serious. Tori's life is in danger now, every detail counted.

"She told me she loved me," he sucks in a breath. "I don't know if she remembered every single memory, but she remembered how she felt. About me."

Potsdam lets out a pained laugh. "And you thought this marriage was a bad idea."

"Yes, I had planned to celebrate our one-year anniversary with my wife completely unconscious and my life in jeopardy," he says, his voice drenched in bitter sarcasm.

"Well," she sighs. "I have an idea."

"Well?"

"When did you kiss her? The kiss that led up to her trying to piece things together?"

"Is that relevant?"

"When?"

"Saturday night." He sighs. Talking to Potsdam about his romantic exploits was not really something he wanted to do, ever, but in this case it was necessary. He hated that it was necessary.

She looks at him seriously, letting him know she wasn't going to say it twice. "We need to erase her memories from now up until that point."

"No," he says automatically, jumping to his feet. "No, I'm not going to let you go jumping in there and start erasing things. Her mind's already screwed up enough as it is."

Potsdam is patient, assuming this would be his reaction. "I can appreciate how you feel," she says tenderly. "But this is important. If this kiss was the trigger that led her to go searching for answers, erasing that may buy us more time to figure out how to save her."

"Before she figures things out again," he mutters. "Can't you just take down the shields completely?"

"You know that's dangerous, Hieronymous," she snaps. "This is our only option. If she forgets what she remembered today, it could wake her up."

"Or she could not wake up at all," he argues. "What if she forgets everything that was shielded too?"

"Oh, come now," she sighs. "Are you more afraid of her not waking up at all or forgetting that she loves you? I thought you'd come to realize by now that she obviously isn't going to forget how she feels about you, even if we do wipe her mind."

"That is not my concern," he snaps. "I'm trying to save her life."

"And I'm trying to save yours," she snaps back, pulling back her sleeves. "And hers, and your whole tragic fairytale romance." She shakes her head, leaning over Tori. "I think this will work."

"Wait, wait," he says quickly. "How much are you erasing?"

She sighs, clearly frustrated. "Today. Yesterday. Saturday night."

"Wiping it all clean?" he asks. "What will you put there?"

"Nothing," she says. "I don't want to overload her too much. Her brain will fill in the gaps. Otherwise you'll have to think of something to tell her if she can't remember anything else."

"That my punishment in detention was so severe that I knocked her out for three days?"

"There you go."

"And then she's back to hating me," he says bitterly and she stops, craning her neck up to look at him.

"I can't tell if you're being deliberately obtuse," she begins. "But if she kissed you after you left her in a dungeon for hours on end, I don't think she will hate you for this." He grits his teeth. "I know you're concerned about her, and yourself, but you need to let me do this."

"Okay," he huffs. "Today, yesterday, and Saturday night. That's all you're erasing?"

"Yes."

"And nothing else?"

"No."

"Swear it to me."

She stares at him for a moment. "I think you more than anyone should know the danger of making vows. I might find other interesting things in there, such as the package your father sent her for Christmas. It's probably better if she doesn't remember that you're married right now. Go wait outside. I think it'll be easier for you."

"I want to-"

"Out," she says firmly. "I'm not going to be able to concentrate with you hovering over her, although your concern is very romantic."

The last comment did the trick, as he went to the door and shut it behind him. He sighed to himself, looking out over the balcony. This was his fault, all of it. Because he had trapped that Manus, she had put herself in danger to save his life. Then she had been forced to marry him to save her own life, and although it was quite clear now that that wasn't quite as terrible as either of them had first imagined, her life was now in danger. Would this be the second time a woman that he cared for met her demise because of him? He sighed, squeezing the balcony railing with both hands. Maybe this proved it. Maybe this was the wake-up call he needed, that he was better off alone. He was obviously cursed in some way. Anyone that got near him, anyone who loved him, wound up dead. He had already made that mistake once. He couldn't risk it a second time. Not with her. Not with Tori. She was too young and had too much of her life ahead of her. He wanted her, but he had to be the adult here. It was wrong. It was wrong and selfish. She would get over him in time, and lead a long and happy life without him.

Potsdam came out sooner than expected. "I think it took," she says after a minute. "Now we just need to see when she wakes up."

"Oh good," he replies tersely. "More she can't remember."

"She'll remember the rest of it, eventually," Potsdam sighs. "In the meantime, no more snogging, you two." He glares at her. "But you need to stay close to her."

"Stay close to her?" he repeats incredulously. He had just decided to stay as far away from her as possible. "Staying close to her-"

"If you don't, she's going to feel something for you anyway," Potsdam says. "And then she's going to try to figure out why she has such strong feelings for someone who just knocked her unconscious for three days." He rolls his eyes. "Give her enough to keep her interested, but don't be so explicit with your feelings. If you can keep her looking forward to the next time she spends with you, she won't try as hard to work backwards into the past. Just be yourself…well, a more decent version of yourself, at any rate."

He curls his upper lip into a snarl. "You women are so bloody complicated."

"Says the man who still doesn't believe he can be loved," she retorts. He glares at her, but it's more out of habit than malice. She knew what he was thinking; she didn't have to use magic for that. "She's going to be fine, Hieronymous. She's not going to end up like Violet."

"Don't," he snaps. "Don't say her name."

Potsdam just shakes her head. "I'm not having this argument again. You need to figure out who means more to you, a girl that died twelve years ago, or your wife, who's lying in your bed as we speak."

"It's not that simple," he starts.

"Well, if you really think about it, you might just find that it is," Potsdam retorts. "Let me know when she wakes up." She snaps her fingers and teleports away.