Another drabble so soon?! :O Haha, I actually wrote this a while ago, but finally decided to post this now. Remember to tell me what you think! :D Thanks to all of you who read, reviewed, subscribed, or favorited! It definitely means a lot to me. :]

Happy reading!

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Title: You Found Me
Author: suprockstar
Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly enough.
Word Count: 345

Warnings/Notes: None. A drabble I wrote on a whim, not for anything in particular. :]
Prompt: None.
Summary: When you lose something, what are the chances of ever finding what you lost?

You Found Me

When you lose something, what are the chances of ever finding what you lost? You can search, roaming the depths of your mind, grasping at the edges of your memory, gripping for any remnants of knowledge that could expose its location. You can do all that. But in the end, if the memory slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, it cannot be found. And in losing something, you are in fact like the misplaced, and you, yourself, are lost and will remain lost.

Until you are found.

He groaned, rolling onto his back, and winced as the sudden movement disrupted the ease of calmness washed over him, a wave that momentarily floated between consciousness and nothing, making his mind a warm fuzzy place, instead of the hazard to his health hell it usually was.

It made him forget.

Then as he forced his eyelids to lift, the calming wave was broken, replaced with gravity, reality, and life thrusting sharp daggers into the middle of his chest. It started off with a searing, gnawing, skin-tearing sort of pain, that coursed through his body, attacking each vital organ inside of his body, biting at his bones, stabbing him deep, hard, merciless. Then, when he would think that this pain had not only consumed his body, but his mind, his soul, it would stop. Leaving only a dull throb in its place, a bruise in the aftermath of the striking of pain.

There was no warning of when it would occur, no signs of when it would numb, and no guarantee that it would ever stop. He knew how it could be stopped. He knew, but also understood that it could ever happen.

He had lost many items in his lifetime, from his robes, to his fucking wand. But this. This was different. Once he had lost this, he no longer had the choice of whether or not to look for it again. Along with what he lost, followed his meaning, his soul, his life.

And he was never going to get any of it back.

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