There were so many memories he wished he could let loose, let slip away. The memories of his son dead in his arms, the look on his wife's face of despair and anger and utter contempt, the memories of dark desperate hours forsaken and forgotten in an enemy prison, memories of supposed friends leaving you bleeding while they fled to safety.
But this, no this you wish you could hold on to, this gossamer memory slowly dissolving like a mist. The two of you friends from before, a relationship started in the mines rekindled by her smile, her dedication, her inventiveness. Is that so very different from your real lives?
You lay together with your servitude cast off aside your coarse orange clothing. And just for a moment you both could forget your civilization on the brink of disaster. Just for a moment responsibilities are shucked with your uniforms and duty lay aside for a few moments of pleasure as you caress her naked skin beneath you finger tips.
These memories of comfort and caring, memories of love and affection, the memories of the physical proof of that love and devotion so absent from your life for so long, these memories blur and fade as you return to your reality. These memories you would grasp on to.
As Jack pulled on his BDU's and laced up and tied his boots he wanted to hold on to something real, not just Caulder's phony memories. He wanted to hold on to the feel of he skin beneath his fingers, the catch of her breath as she climaxed, the feel of her mouth on his. He wants to remember.