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She nodded solemnly as he spoke. He looked so lost, she wanted to walk over to him and hug him, tell him everything, and just never let go. But it was Jake and... He didn't know her. She couldn't handle him pushing her away right then.

So she continued with her sad smile. "Right. You were leading, and we were supposed to observe the scanner. Gale, Marcus, Stormy, you, and myself. But something went wrong, some guy exploded and you went running off." Sherry shifted her feet uncomfortably again. They'd never really talked about that day. Not whole a lot being angry with each other about it.

She shrugged. "We followed you. Stormy and I caught up just in time to see a couple of horsemen drag you off. We went after you, but the horsemen were a bit too tough. They messed your foot up, and your shoulder. You had a spear right through it. While you were basically pinned to the wall, some big horseman took Chester from you and just snapped him." Sherry wiped a tear away and blinked. That had been a bad day, and with everything right now, she could curse her weak heart.

"That was it. The horseman broke him. Then we were rescued. You ...you don't remember what Mark said? I was hoping Chester would be alright by now. He's a sweetheart." And Jake could probably use him right about now, confused as he was looking.

Crap. She was going to cry. How can he not remember?

Sherry almost regretted telling him. She'd watched him sit, and it had taken her a moment to realize just how upset it made him. It scared her, the way he acted. She'd seen it before, more or less, but it always made her hurt for him. She moved nearer out of instinct and habit, and had one hand raised to tentatively reach out and touch him as he seemed to be calming. She froze when he spoke and she flinched when he yelled.

If tears were falling she hardly noticed. Jake hurt and she felt like it was her fault. Combined with the pain she was already feeling and Sherry just hurt. Her heart ached. It ached for her and it ached for Jake. But right now he was the one falling apart, which meant she couldn't afford to.

Quietly, slowly, Sherry sat down on the bed next to him. Not too close, but close enough to feel his warmth. Or maybe she imagined that. "It is, to a point, your fault. But you already beat yourself up over it." She reached out and placed on hand on his shoulder. "You can't change it, but you can fix it. You can fix Chester." She was certain of that much. He'd been certain of it, before, hadn't he?

She didn't like the look on his face. She wanted to make things better and take away all the confusion and the hurt. It wasn't something she could do, she knew that. But if she could help him a little, it would be okay.

His hand was warm. His hands were always warm. Her smile was a little less sad. "Right. You'll work it out and he'll be back in no time."

The moment lasted just long enough for her to enjoy it, and then Jake shifted again, moving his hand. She could read him well enough to catch the embarrassment. Her gaze went to the floor as the hollow in her chest seemed a little bigger, a little colder and lonelier. She hoped the dim light in the room hid the look on her face. It couldn't be anything but sad.

"No, it's okay," she said again, shaking her head slightly. "I came to make sure you were alright and--" She stopped, the words catching in her throat again. She took two deep breaths, hoping to stop the tears, but she felt them, warm and wet on her lap anyway.

"But if you don't remember," she was bordering on full on crying, "then no. I don't suppose there is anything you can do. Short of kissing me and telling me it was all a joke." She shrugged and sobbed and reached for his hand, even though that was a selfish thing to do. "You don't remember me at all, do you?"

Sherry nodded and without thinking she leaned over, taking a shoulder to cry on even though it hadn't really been offered. It hurt inside and she didn't know what to do about it. She'd tried to keep it in, but thinking about it and saying what she had just sent her over the edge. She held onto his hand with one of hers, while her other clutched at the back of his shirt and her forehead rested on his shoulder. Dammit. She didn't want to cry.

He didn't remember her. He'd forgotten her. There hadn't been anything but confusion in his eyes when he looked at her. And now... Now she was clinging to him and crying on him and she'd just said too much. Far too much. This was too much.

She let go of him and pushed herself to her feet, turning away and wiping at her face. "Oh heavens. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She sniffed, remembering a time she'd woken up with no memories and next to someone she hadn't recognized. She recognized him now and it took even more effort not to resume sobbing. "This must be strange and I'm sorry I didn't mean to let go. You don't even know me." She shook her head and smiled at him, one of those sad smiles. It wasn't fair to him, if he didn't remember. It wasn't his fault.

She sniffed, glad she'd realized what she was doing. "Look. I'm, um, in 139 if you need anything. I'll help if I can." She turned away again, moving toward the door. She wasn't going to tell him goodbye. Not now. She kind of was too busy hoping she'd make it to the hall before breaking down again.

Sherry looked at the hand on her wrist. Warm and strong and... Sherry blinked and looked at his face. Had Jake ever stopped her from leaving before? He'd asked her to stay at least once, but physically stopping her? She couldn't remember right then.

"If you want," she said, sniffing. She didn't know how much she could talk about without crying again. "I would like to try." She was nodding. Anything to help, any memory would do. She almost wasn't sure what the worst part was. That he'd forgotten about their shared feelings or the fact that he'd forgotten her altogether.

"We met almost a year ago." She had to pause for a breath again, and stepped closer not bothering to move her wrist from his grip. "In the haunted house, the place where the worlds meet. There was fog and insanity and um, weird hunters and Caelius fought some strange monster. We met in a small room with a wolf monster and two other things. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah." She nodded. It had been his first mission. "That's the one."

She maybe flinched just the slightest bit under his gaze, his words driving the cold point home. He didn't remember her at all. It was like she'd not even been there, apparently.

"Um," she said, thinking fast as she could, "after the weapons were awake again --they'd fallen asleep during that mission-- you and I, we played Jenga. You wrote all over my face, and I wrote on yours." She had to pause for a breath. A happy memory of hers, and it made her want to cry. "We sparred, too. A few times."

Her gaze fell to the floor. What...what could be important enough he might remember?

She tried really hard not to look hurt. Jenga was one of her fondest memories, permanent marker and all. She bit her lip, not wanting to chew on it but doing it anyway and crossed her arms in front of her. Really important? They were all kind of important to her, and she wasn't sure if she could handle telling him things only to have him look at her like that again. All confused and sorry and the way one looks at someone they don't know. It hurt and she kind of wanted it to stop hurting already.

"We... we went shopping together. I made you go because you needed winter clothes. You picked curry for lunch. I bought you pants and T-shirts for Christmas." She shook her head again. Not good enough. That hadn't been important to him then. "We went places together. Up that mountain of the old gods, and to that island where we were both minipets for a time. Do you remember that? The climbing and the lava? The statues and the artifacts? We...we were even strange turtle cat crossbreeds for a bit. Here. On the island."