Etched In Stone

Chapter Twelve

He stays outside in the hall for what feels like the whole night, far too churned up and anxious to try and go back to sleep. He doesn't understand - he doesn't remember much of Serena, yet a part of him knows that they must have been closer than his limited memories are telling him. He knows that he would be upset if she were to get any worse, but he doesn't really understand all the same.

After a while, he sits down on the hall floor, his back resting against the wall. He'd paced up and down for what felt like hours, the same thoughts cutting through his mind ten times over. He was tired. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, folding his arms across his chest, and falling into a half-awake, restless sleep.

"Jake. Jake, come on, wake up."

Ian is leaning over him, his hand shaking his shoulder. He opens his eyes, his head snapping up.

"Jake, she's okay."

Jake can barely see his face, just about illuminated by the first pale early morning shafts of light.

"Serena?" He asks, bleary eyed and disoriented. "She's okay?"

"Yeah. Saren was with her all night. She was asking for you." Ian takes a firm hold of Jake's hand and pulls him upwards into a standing position.

"Me?" Jake asks, dragging a hand across his eyes. He suppresses a yawn, clasping his hand over his mouth momentarily. "She wants me?"

"Yeah. Started saying that she wanted to talk to you. It's not urgent, I don't think, but it might make her settle a bit."

"Yeah. I'll go talk to her."

- - - - -

When he goes into her room, she's lying in her bed with the sheets pulled up around her shoulders. Her breathing is deep and even - a considerable improvement from earlier - and although she is still pale, she is a lot less restless.

He pulls the chair from the corner of her room closer to her bed and takes a seat, resting his elbows on his knees. Jake is unsure what to do - he feels odd, being in here while she's asleep. But Ian said she wanted to talk to him. One of her hands, pale and small, is sticking out over her sheets. He wonders if he should take hold of it, reaches forward - and then pulls back, suddenly perturbed by his own thoughts. He had no idea why he'd thought of that.

"Jake...?" She murmurs, stirring in her bed, and opening her eyes slowly. She turns her head towards him, her eyes resting on his leaned over figure.

"I'm here." He says quietly, looking down at her. Serena pushes herself up on her elbows, placing a hand to her forehead gingerly. A crease forms between her eyebrows, her head obviously hurting her.

"Here," Jake reaches for the glass of water left on the bedside table and hands it to her, taking it back once she's taken a few sips.

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" He asks gently. He shifts his position, resting his chin on his palms.

"Yeah.." She trails off. Her voice is hoarse. "Yeah, I think I dreamt a little further than you."

"What do you mean?" His ears prick up at her words and his eyes widen.

"We had the same dream for a certain amount of time, but after I passed out... When I was in here with Saren, I think I may have remembered more."

"Did they wipe your memory, too?"

"No," she shakes her head, "No, I mean on your behalf. They were your memories."

His blood freezes in his veins and he draws back a little. He absently raises a hand to the back of his head, letting what she'd told him sink in - the thought of her inside his head, reliving memories that he couldn't even see himself, was just...creepy.

"What did you see?" He asks slowly, fixing his eyes on her. She bites down on her lip anxiously.

"It was you and I..." She begins, "As kids, again. But I don't think we had become friends yet. But we were connected, somehow...I'm not sure how, it was kind of muddled, but some of it was clear. When your parents were taken...so were mine. But I think I must have been rescued a long time before you, going by other memories. I don't know. I do know that I got this, though."

She gestures for him to look closer. He leans forward, closer to her face, and she slides down the sleeve of her t-shirt, revealing her shoulder. On it, about five thin, red scars, crossing over eachother, stark against her pale skin.

"They gave it to me." She whispers, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm sure of it."

"Like the one on my ribs. He says quietly. "From the same people."

His face is close to hers - a lot closer than he realised. Up close, he can see streaks of darker green in her teal eyes. She lets out a small, shaky breath. Nearly without even realising, his hand moves closer and hers rests automatically on top of his. Her skin is cold.

"Jake..." She says, barely audible, trailing off.

Their faces are barely inches apart when her bedroom door opens and Ian steps into the room, coming to a stop abruptly when he lays eyes on the two of them. Jake and Serena pull apart like the other is on fire, suddenly feeling guilty.

"Jake." Ian says sharply, "You should go. Serena should rest."

"Yeah." Jake says. He stands up quickly and leaves the room as fast as he can, not quite meeting either of their gaze.