"What is her problem, anyway?" Brandon gritted his teeth.
       Jerico chuckled pleasantly, pouring himself some tea in the tiny kitchen.  Well, the boy had asked.  "Do you know what it's like to have the most poignant memories of another man's life to pass through your head?  Let alone several?"
        Well... alright, so he got the better of him there.  "Do you?"
        To Brandon's surprise, the old man nodded.  "I tried, once."
        ...Oh.  He supposed that shouldn't really have surprised him.  "What happened?"
        "I fucked up."  The elder responded simply, eyes far off and over the steaming liquid.
        He was certainly not used to Jerico cursing.  Let alone "that word"...  It seemed to be just one of those things that needed to be dropped completely.  "Still doesn't explain her."
        "She's worried about you."  Jerico simplified, taking a careful sip from the slightly chipped mug.  "And she's just been through another transfer that she hasn't had the chance to ground herself from yet."  He sat back and stared off into space for a moment, then added, "Besides that... she has every right to worry."
        Brandon swallowed every last complaint still waiting to be hurled from his tongue.  There was a point there, sure... but he'd rather not admit it.  Let alone actually think about it.
        "You have to be careful."  The elder reminded him in the way of a kind passer-by rather than an authority figure.  "One moment of control lost, and..."
        "That's enough."  The younger man's voice was barely able to compile a whisper.  He wished he could stand tea just so he would have something to warm his suddenly frozen veins.  "I get it."
        Jerico needed only to nod once, convinced.  The subject shifted completely.  "She's already asking about the next job, though."
        As if the moment before never even happened, Brandon scoffed openly and with his humor returning.  "It'll be a bit before she can afford to care."
        Tea in hand, the other shrugged.  "That has never once stopped her." 

        She laid in bed for hours after Brandon had shut the door, leaving her alone to rest.  It really wasn't often that she thought of... those times.  They could even joke about it together, sometimes.  But some nights... they knew they could feel it haunting them.
        She closed her eyes, trying to keep the thoughts from playing over in her memories, wishing the sleep would come... but it never would, at her command.  The fact was, she remembered... just not as herself.
        Things had happened.  And they'd been so stupid about it.  So young and horrible and ridiculous.  She lost all of the person she was, all senses of what one may call the Self... and Brandon... well, he lost an awful lot, too.  Maybe more in the form of gain.  The gain of things not meant to be acquired.
        What she remembered most was that last moment before everything collapsed.  The details were still unclear.  All but blood.  All but the smell of flesh torn apart and that spell that both killed her and--
        When the door to her room opened, she didn't even start with surprise.  On the verge of reliving the memory, she felt just as empty and helpless in her room recovering as she had back then.  Only this time, Jerico's eyes held no malice.
        "No rest for the weary?" he asked with mild playfulness, hitting the switch to the smaller, dimmer lamp by the door so as not to blind her.
        "Never is."  She retorted almost instantly, glad to have the memories flooded away by the light and their current situation.  "But you old-timers need your rest."
        "Don't I know it."  He joked, inviting himself in and closing the door behind.
        Uh-oh.  Usually during even the most horrifically embarrassing things, the doors were never closed between any of them.  Only for "bathroom duty", and rarely for a shower... causing fits of cursing from one and laughter from two others several times.
        Jerico invited himself to kneel at her bedside, pulling his spectacles off and placing them in his shirt pocket.  "We can get you to the river in a few hours."
        "Okay..."  Clearly there was more to the conversation than merely that.
        Feeling the need to be utterly blunt, he nodded once.  "I'm sure you're both feeling it tonight.  And I had to make sure that I didn't have to strike either of you because of it."
        Her teeth gritted together in reflex against his words.  "I don't think that will be necessary."
        "What I'm asking..." he continued, his voice low and far too gentle, "Is whether or not you need a... reminder, yourself."
        "No."  Quiet, but firm.  "No, I do not."  She couldn't help but wonder, with the way he'd phrased the question, if Brandon had...
        He reached out delicately, pressing a hand against her forehead before he ran it tenderly through her hair.  No, not hands that had done violence recently.  Not even by way of spellcards.  Too soft, too unshaken.  "Okay."  He agreed in a whisper.  "You know I mean no harm by asking."
        No, she did not know that.  But she'd been playing along for too long to go back now.  "Sure, Jerico."
        "Good girl."  He smiled, running his hand once more through her hair before he stood up, placing his glasses back on his face.  "Now get some rest before we have to leave."
        She held her breath as she watched him close the door by hand on his way out.  Satisfied that he was safely away from the door, she let a horribly pained sigh flutter softly from her lips.  As much as things changed... they also certainly stayed the same.