14 - Memories

~*Lantash*~

~Month 4, Day 23~

It's just memories. We're safe? We're safe.

Martouf is angry, terrified, and above all, confused. It's the latter that makes him dangerous, confusing the past and present, unable to tell reality from memory. I wish I could remember if it's ever been this bad before. I desperately try to search for something good to share with my host. We remember nothing from before prison.

Thank crystals for Malek. He remains calm, his voice ever present. I can't focus on the words, but his soothing, loving voice keeps me in the present.

Make them stop! Martouf demands in desperation.

No one is hurting us, I assure. These are memories. I flinch in pain, feeling an ache in his body. Just memories. Just memories that want to pull us into a void of despair.

Give me control.

I hesitate, and that angers him. "He needs control," I say to…someone. I can't even remember who. Martouf. I retreat, expecting him to go on the offense. I can't let him kill again.

Instead, he draws his legs closer to his body, curling slightly as he puts his hands over the back of his head.

The pain will pass.

Useless! Useless! Useless!

Love. Focus on the voice.

Give me control!

You have-

Get out of my head! He rakes his fingernails down the back of his head.

I tighten and tell myself that he means the memories and not me.

Stop! Stop!

Ow! I squeal painfully. Martouf, stop!

He can't hear me. This isn't him. He wouldn't hurt me.

"Martouf."

No. No. No. He doesn't register the voice.

Someone is there, still talking… I think.

Malek.

"You were so happy…" He's talking about Jolinar and Rosha. Our wedding.

Martouf slowly becomes aware of him.

"Martouf."

He opens his eyes, and Malek comes into focus.

"You are hurting Lantash."

I feel Martouf's confusion. Malek carefully takes his hands off the back of his neck, but I'm afraid to relax.

"Think of your loved ones," Malek says gently.

"Lantash…?" Martouf mutters.

I'm here, love.

He sees traces of his blood on his hands, and he's suddenly filled with dread and terror. "No. No!"

"Martouf. It wasn't-"

Lantash?!

I'm here.

What did I do?! I hurt you. Crystals! He begins weeping.

I wish I could deny it, but my body still aches, and he knows it. Malek sits next to us, and he risks holding Martouf close.

You hurt yourself too, I think. You didn't know what you were doing.

He looks at the blood.

That's your blood, not mine.

It's blue.

No, love. You are seeing what you fear.

He stares intently at his hands.

You would have a serious wound if you reached me. You are only scratched.

"Malek?" He whispers.

"Yes?"

"What color is the blood?"

"It's red."

He still sees blue.

Close your eyes.

He does.

Breathe.

He slowly draws in air until his lungs fill, then lets it out just as slow. He does this for several minutes, calming with each breath.

Now look at your hands.

He tenses.

Relax.

He takes another deep breath, then looks. It's red now.

You scratched yourself.

Then… He frowns. I still hurt you. He tentatively looks into my memories. Really hurt you.

You didn't know what-

He retreats, pulling away from me.

~+~+~.

Lantash?

I'm here, love, I reply quickly, thankful for his return.

I hurt you.

That wasn't you.

I don't want you out. He feels sick with guilt.

I know, love. I'm not going to leave you.

He doesn't reply.

Do you want to go swimming?

He's still quiet, in thought, but not sharing those thoughts.

Do you want control?

I want a promise from you.

Of course, love.

He hesitates, and I send him warmth.

I don't have my memories, but I know, even without yours, I know I love you.

I love you too.

But even if I didn't, I am not a cruel person.

No, love, you are not.

I can't be allowed to hurt you. You can't let that happen again.

That wasn't you.

Don't excuse me. Not in this!

Love-

I hurt you, and you didn't do anything.

I cringe at his anger, though I feel the love and fear that's behind it.

I cannot live with the fear that our relationship will become abusive.

It wasn't-

You could have stopped me.

I didn't want to hurt you.

And should I start beating on Malek or Amb? Would you allow that as well?

…No.

Promise me. He rubs over me, but it hurts. He immediately pulls his hand away. Guilt makes acid fill his chest and stomach.

I send him warm vibrations, but he retreats in shame, giving me control.

Lantash… You won't ever admit it, but the fact is… You were afraid of me.

Not you. That wasn't-

When Malek took my hands, you were afraid I was going to grab you again.

Though I wish I could, I can't deny it.

Promise me that you won't let me hurt you again. Physically or emotionally.

At the risk of your sanity?

If you have to, yes. I can recover from having my memories wiped or being suppressed. I will never recover if I have abused you.

I grumble.

You said it yourself, that wasn't me, but that will be all I am if you let it happen. Promise that you won't let that happen.

I promise.

Thank you. I'd like that swim now.

That makes me smile. I look to Malek, who is clearly worried.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

"Malek, thank you… Yes. I think. He's made me promise that I won't let him…do anything like that again."

He smiles slightly. The lack of comment or judgement makes me feel warm.

"He wants to go swimming."

"That sounds fun. Maybe I'll go in a few days."

I smile.

~Month 6, Day 2~

With another fog of confusion, I am forced to keep my promise to Martouf.

Malek isn't here.

Crystals! I wish he was here.

I feel so selfish, wishing he was here to help me while Zar is probably torturing him.

~+~+~.

After two days, I seriously consider blocking my memories again.

Malek would understand. He knows it might have to happen.

~+~+~.

The next day I am writing notes, making sure to mention that I need to be there when Malek returns.

I am mid-sentence when I hear the rings. I drop the journal and rush into the ring room.

"Amb."

He's barely able to stand on his own.

I help him to the room, and his presence is noticed by Martouf.

Amb uses me for support, and we make it back to the room. He groans as he sits, and I kneel by him.

"Did he kill Malek again?"

He nods as he leans into us, but then he sits up.

"Amb?"

"You were going to wipe your memories." He's looking at the journal.

"I have to."

"Why?"

I sigh. "Martouf has been in a bad place for a few days now."

"Give him a chance."

"You don't understand.

"Tell us."

"He's angry at me."

"He's scared and confused. He's not angry at you. He's just angry."

"It's never been this bad."

"Well, now we are here to help."

"That's not-"

"You cried to us because, in your own words, you erased your host."

That stings.

"Give him more than a few days."

~+~+~.

A couple days later, I feel it might be safe to give him control. We go to the calming room first. Though Malek wasn't too close for his own safety, Martouf immediately moves even further away from him.

"Hello Martouf."

He eyes a knife across the room, seeing Zar instead of Malek.

Seeming to understand that, Malek retreats. "Martouf, it is me, Amb."

I encourage Martouf to write, and thankfully, he does. It takes several hours, but it calms him enough that he can see that Amb is Amb. Our wonderful boyfriend is sitting across the room, in spite of his own pain, waiting for whatever we might need.

Did I hurt anyone? Martouf asks.

No.

He looks over my memories. I almost hurt you.

You wanted to remove the bad memories.

By removing you.

You didn't know what you were doing.

He sits down. Thank you for keeping your promise. May I rub you?

I wiggle. I would like that.

He strokes over the back of his neck, feeling for me. I wiggle so that he can feel me, and that makes him smile.

I love you.

I love you too.

~Month 9, Day 20~

"Has Zar shot you with his projectile weapon?" Martouf asks as Amb gently tends to new injuries.

I wish he hadn't brought up that awful nightmare.

"None of your injuries are consistent with such a weapon," Amb says in confusion, "and both Zar and his Jaffa would consider such a weapon to be too primitive to use."

"Lantash distinctly remembers that I was shot multiple times with projectile weapons."

His eyes widened.

"You have seen it?"

"Tell me more."

"I was in a room with many people including someone named…Per'sus? Then someone with glasses-"

"Martouf!" He exclaims excitedly. "That's from before you were captured."

Really?!

Martouf is afraid to believe. "From before?"

"Yes." He kisses us gently. "I promise, that was definitely from before."

Hope washes over us.

"He might start remembering…good stuff?" Martouf asks. "Not just pain."

Amb gives us a warm smile.

Martouf cries, and for the first time that we have known, it's good tears.

~*Malek*~

~Month 10, Day 30~

I look up as Martouf plops next to me. He is smiling.

"A good memory?"

"Lantash is starting to get glimpses of those, but they felt like hopeful dreams. This one feels more real." He grins. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything."

"If not for your company, Lantash would have had to erase our memories a few more times by now."

I smile. "What was the memory?"

"I believe her name was Samantha."

"Samantha. We…we thought you were dead."

"Yes?" He is confused by the obvious statement.

"We shared physical relations."

He grins. "She is very lucky."

I laugh, then kiss him. "She loved you."

"How did she feel about you?"

"I don't know," I admit. "We…didn't talk much."

Martouf pushes me over, grinning. "I would like to share 'physical relations.'"

That's essentially what we do every day except when we are recovering from the three Jaffa I have come to despise. For the moment though, Amb and I can push away memories of them.

I kiss Martouf in response, letting him know that we are willing.

"Malek," he murmurs before removing my prison gown.

I touch his back as he kisses lower and lower. Martouf's skill leaves trails of hot vibrations on my skin.

"Hold until I give you permission," he orders.

"That's…" I lose my voice as he makes me tremble.

I tangle Amb's fingers in his hair, gasping. After several minutes, I retreat to help Amb obey the command.

"Martouf…"

"No," he signals with a teasing gesture of the hand.

I'm going to get Lantash back for this.

Amb groans, gasping, then finally sees the signal. He shudders as he obeys the new command, catching his breath.

With his eyes closed, I don't anticipate the strong grip over his neck, over me, and it sends another wave of bliss through both of us.

"Amb."

Amb opens his eyes.

"I'm not done."

"Good." Amb kisses him.

~Year 1~

Lantash hands me his main knife. It's routine now, though Martouf hasn't had an episode in a few months.

Lantash sits next to me. It's amusing to watch them switch. They give no indication of it. They just do.

"I have something for you." Martouf gives us something wrapped in cloth.

"What's this for?"

"You survived one year."

"A year." I frown. "It feels longer."

"Most people don't survive their first year."

I smile, then open our present. I gasp. "Fresh fruit?"

"Lantash and I made a garden in my calming room. It's the first time something has grown."

"That's what you have been doing."

Martouf grins.

"If the people knew about this…"

"They don't go in. You might have noticed that we developed something of a reputation."

I chuckle. "Share with us." I give Amb control for the first taste.

Martouf takes a berry.

"There is a custom on various human planets that has a variety of names," Amb says, "such as 'first bite,' 'a drink speech,' or simply 'cheers.' On my planet, it is called 'a hunter sip.' On Earth, it is called 'a toast.'"

"What do we do?"

Amb touches his berry to Martouf's. "To our survival. May we thrive and someday, escape."

Martouf smiles.

"Now we may eat."

They each eat one berry. Amb closes his eyes, savoring the sweet taste.

Something fresh.

It tastes wonderful.

To be continued…