Erik realized his mistake too late, and upon hearing the young nurse's gasp and witnessing the growing horror on her face, he snatched his hands away.

He'd touched her without her consent. Suddenly images of the horrors his fellow soldiers, German and French, had committed against innocent civilian women and children flashed through his mind, and he felt sick. "Forgive me!" he whispered.

Christine watched Erik cower before her, and her anxious mind cleared, and she realized her reaction. She didn't touch him, not knowing how he would react in a panic. "No, Erik, it's fine. You did nothing wrong, you just surprised me is all. Don't…don't be afraid. You just surprised me." What was causing a reaction like this? How did a man who cowered after brushing away tears work as a spy?

Erik could feel the confusion in the air, and tried to calm himself in order to explain. Remember your training, you fool. He took a moment to breath, and was able to reply fairly calmly. "Forgive me. I awoke and saw you crying, and was…concerned."

Christine sighed. "It's alright. I understand what you were trying to do. I'm sorry I worried you. I'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around."

He looked at Christine, a firm look in his eyes. "You're allowed to feel. I do not matter in that sense…this…all of this…has been difficult for everyone. Not just you."

There was a small silence, and then Erik continued more calmly. "Do…do wish to speak about what was bothering you?"

Christine tensed. She knew it seemed childish, but she didn't wish to share such a dark part of herself when she could learn so little of Erik. "No…I was…I just realized a few things about myself is all. I'll be fine. Thank you though, Erik."

Erik finally looked at Christine. "I won't pressure you, but if there is a reason you can't, or won't, are you allowed to tell me?"

Christine whipped her head from her lap to Erik. She then relaxed, a small, sad smile crossing her lips. "Are you sure you don't read minds, Erik?"

"I don't believe so," he said with shy mirth.

Christine chuckled. "Alright, well, yes, in a sense. It's quite childish if you will forgive me in advance." She took a nervous breath. "While I consider us friends, I'm…hesitant to share my inner most thoughts with you, because you cannot share so many of yours. I know it isn't fair of me to say, but it's honestly I how I feel, Erik, and…forgive me," she sighed finally.

Erik's head was bent down, and he nodded. "I understand. There are some things we can't easily share, for whatever reasons." He looked up, and Christine noticed hesitation and confusion in his eyes.

They were both silent for a few awkward moments.

"Do you wish to sleep?" Christine asked.

"Not particularly. Do you?" he replied.

"No…I supposed we could change you bandages. It's been long enough that you might not need them for much longer."

Erik consented to this, and Christine began to carefully unwind the bandages from Erik's face and head. Christine had always noted Erik's ink black hair, but and she was unwinding the cloth from his head, she noticed lighter hairs intermingled with the black. Blond, or perhaps more likely white.

"Erik, may I ask how old you are?" she asked cautiously.

"Not very. I believe I'm only in my 20s."

"Oh. I just noticed you have some lighter hair among your dark hair."

"Oh. Yes, I've been noticing it as well…I remember I was required to dye it…" Erik was telling the truth, but he felt like he was lying, or omitting something. He'd had that feeling around Christine since they had met and gotten to know one another. In every small detail of his life that he was able to tell her, and even when thinking of his own more detailed memories, he felt like he was remembering and forgetting all at once. But remembering and forgetting what? He didn't know.

Christine continued to unwind the bandages, until they were finally gone.

His face had healed as best as it could considering the situation. There would always be twisted scarring in the hollow of Erik's cheek, and fine white scars all around his face. However, the damage was much less than what everyone had feared. Erik was enormously lucky.

While still skeletal in appearance with the missing nose, Christine noticed that since staying at the hospital, Erik had gained weight. While still slender, Christine realized that much of his figure must have been due to lack of food more than a natural figure. His eyes were less sunken than before, and she noticed again that they were blue.

Blue…

A feeling of dread tugged at Christine.

"Erik, you've spoken to me about yourself in very uncertain terms at times…such as now. You said you believe you are in your twenties…do – do you not know?"

Erik was silent. He'd noticed his lapse in memory at times, and had briefly brought it up to his commanding officers early in his career, fearing it would affect his work. He was told it wasn't a problem, and to continue with his assignments. The doctor's assigned to him always cleared him for duty, and the memory lapses never affected his work, because he was always someone else, someone different than who he was. It didn't matter if he couldn't remember exactly who he really was.

But why didn't it matter?

He looked at Christine, worry etched on his face. "I – I don't know. I don't remember. I never have, I just never thought…I was always told it didn't matter, I –" he stopped. He shouldn't tell her any of his fears, because if the government found out…but he had to. He trusted her, and something inside was insisting that he tell her what had been eating away at him his entire career. "Christine, do you ever feel like, who you are is a lie? That memories, what you believe is truth, isn't?"

Christine felt anxiety rising in her chest, but she didn't know why. "Erik, I –"

He rambled on, becoming distraught, "Christine, I remember things, my childhood, abuse, a man I fear is dead, a nickname, but I don't remember my name, my age, my family's name, my father's name…but I know you, I know I have for so long, but everything, everything is feeling like a lie and I don't – " he continued incoherently.

Christine had seen confusion cross over Erik's face a times, but had never seen him so panicked nor so willing to speak. She feared if he continued speaking in such honest panic, he would divulge information that would find them in trouble. She remembered the warnings to keep conversation limited. She grabbed his hand, "Erik, it's alright, you must calm down, remember what we were told, we can't speak about certain –"

"Lottie, I don't know who I am."

Christine's face paled, and she dropped his hand as if burned.

"What did you call me?"