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Empty, hollow, cold, and mostly numb. That was how she felt. When he spoke, it only got worse. Armagnac was still hissing, and Sherry... refused to let go of that resolve she'd started to muster. If she thought about it later she might call it pride. Or desperation. Or worry.

"You're wrong." It didn't even matter if he hated her, or believed her or whatever. She couldn't leave while he was like this. "I never hated you, and if I did...if what you say were true, I'd be gone already. Hell, I'd have not shown up here to spend time with you. Jake. I don't know who you're remembering, but it's not me."

She didn't move.

Sherry did not enjoy being manhandled like this. Nor did Armagnac enjoy her hunter being such. The pit inside Sherry's chest grew, the chilling numb stronger somehow, and in her head there was nothing but rage.

"Give me one good example of me hurting you. What have I done that was so bad?" She turned on her inner five-year-old and had her heels in the floor. "Was it when we played Jenga? When we were turned to minipets? When we went shopping and had lunch? Or when I paid so you could have that knife you keep waiving in my face? Or when you kissed me in the Tear, or when we laughed after beating some monster? Or the night you came and asked for a second chance and I gave it to you without question?" She was talking fast, expecting him to cut her off.

"I don't know who 'they' are, but I'm not them. I'm just me." She place her hand over his on her wrist. She would have given him a pleading look, but she was pretty sure the tears hid that. "And you're hurting me."

She might have been a little stunned he'd not tossed her out, but she tried not to show it. "Because I'm stubborn like that," she muttered. "You're the one who was talking about resolve earlier, and you were wrong. I do care about you, and I'm willing to fight for my feelings. Whether you believe them or not." She was red, but given the situation, that wasn't unusual.

Her eyes stayed on him, but her face might have softened with worry. "Besides, I'm worried about you. One minute you were fine and the next you were scary angry. You've... never really done that before, and it scares me."

She'd flinched, but some reflexes can't be stopped. She didn't avert her gaze. Between the hole in her chest and the dragon in her head she almost didn't care. "I don't know," she replied. It was honest. "I can't be with someone who would hurt me like that, regardless of how I feel about them."

She exhaled slowly, shoving the images Armagnac had started projecting out of her brain. The weapon wanted blood, badly.

"But you wouldn't." She trusted him, that still hadn't changed.

She stood there, staring at him. There was no relief when he didn't hurt her; she'd known he wouldn't. His words didn't even hurt, if that's what he'd intended. She was too numb for that. Numb and worried. He was off, and that scared her.

Sherry swallowed, pushing away another image Armagnac was delighting over. Blood was not what Sherry wanted.

"I didn't do anything wrong." She took a step back, definitely away from the door. "I didn't do anything, and you snapped." He was sounding paranoid, she could see that now. "I don't want to leave until I know you suddenly decided you hate me."

Worried. She was scared and worried and numb.

She stepped back again. "Explain to me what I did. What are you remembering?" She tried to keep the pleading out of her voice, but at least she wasn't crying. Convince me you haven't cracked completely.

Armagnac was not helping Sherry think.

"I didn't do anything to hurt you, Jake. Why do you think I did?"

Everyone in this situation was being super mature. ...At least one of them had stopped threatening violence. Sherry had a feeling Armagnac would never stop wanted Jake dead now.

Sherry stared at the door. She could follow him. Chase him down and try to make him talk to her. She could leave and go back to her room and ignore the whole things. She could leave and go the infirmary and report him erratic behavior.

She let out a long, slow breath, suddenly aware of silent it was in that room. Silent and empty. It matched that hole in her heart rather well, except for the fact that the room was warm. Warm and empty was worse than cold and empty, though. At least it was right then.

Sherry sat down on the bed. She was patient, she would wait. It might not have been her place worry about him like, or stay there and bother him, but she'd decided to do it.

Sherry didn't understand, either. She didn't understand being forgotten. She didn't understand how he could have agreed to try a relationship with her when she'd been nothing but a ball of tears for the couple of days that he knew her. She didn't understand why he would suddenly hate her.

The lindwyrm was a writhing mass of rage in her brain.

No. Not now, not ever. Sherry sighed. She was exhausted, but at least she'd stopped shaking. Adrenalin and fear, so useful and yet so not. The numbness had started to ebb, too, and she willed it to come back. Numb didn't hurt.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there. Not using her phone limited her sense of time, and that was inconvenient.