Each Vibrant Memory

"The eastern and southern borders are secured," Chris said easily, reaching across the table and nabbing a piece of potato off of Hans' plate in a casual move that said he was at ease here. The entire room froze. Chris detected the change in atmosphere and looked up, startled. "What?" he asked, frowning. Then he paled. "I know these potatoes," Chris moaned. "Lydia? Why didn't anyone tell me?" His eyes searched the room, finally landing on me.

So this was the big secret. What was Chris doing here? Was he… one of them? How had I not known? How could he have kept this from me? Why hadn't Warren told me? Oh, right. It wasn't 'his secret to tell.' Baloney.

It was too much for me. I stood up and hurried out the door, grabbing onto Chris' wrist and lugging him after me. He didn't put up much resistance. I remembered Warren saying that they had extra sensitive hearing, so I marched him as far away as I could before my anger got the best of me.

"You're one of them," I accused. Chris grimaced and nodded. "You didn't tell me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how," he said, his eyes pleading with me to understand. "I'm sorry, Lydia. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I wish you hadn't found out this way."

"What else have you been keeping from me?" I wondered aloud. I knew I was being unfair. Chris was under no obligation to tell me every little detail of his life- not that this was little. The anger, though, was much easier to feel than the hurt.

Chris hesitated, then sighed. "I wasn't in Texas this summer," he confessed.

"What? Where were you?"

"I was here. I was staying with Nate and Lissa. They were helping me deal with my memories, with the transformation… with getting accustomed to pack life again. I couldn't see you because I didn't want you asking where I was going."

"Why Texas?"

"Because it's one of the few places I knew you wouldn't follow me." I nodded, having expected as much.

"Warren's known me for less than a month, and he's been much more honest than you. Chris, I've known you forever. You should have come to me. If you were having… difficulties. I could have been there for you. I could have tried to understand."

"But you wouldn't have," Chris said with quiet certainty. I sighed and sat down on the soggy ground.

"You're right," I admitted, though it shamed me. Chris sat down, too, and put his arm around me for comfort. I leaned into his embrace instinctively and felt a little better from it.

"Besides," Chris added with a sudden grin, "you've known Warren loads longer than you've known me, if you add it all up. Longer and better. We've only ever been friends. Best friends, mind. Don't you remember me?" I thought back, trying to place Chris in my many, confusing memories. Then, suddenly, I had an image of someone with his crystalline blue eyes ushering me through the servant's entrance of a grand hall, helping me get by my parents unnoticed after another secret meeting with the man I now knew as Warren. This was followed by countless similar memories. My best friend through the ages. My confidant and partner in crime. I grinned.

"How could I have forgotten?" I asked, mostly joking. It made me unspeakably happy, this small connection. I always knew that Chris and I were close, even as far as siblings go. I liked that he had always been there for me. I hugged him closer and sighed. "I forgive you. And I'm sorry for overreacting."

"You wouldn't be Lydia if you didn't," Chris replied with a trace of humor in his voice. When Warren found us not much later, I had been lulled into the state just before sleep. It had been another exhausting day, and its revelations had taken a lot out of me. I felt Warren's strong, warm arms lift me up as if I weighed no more than a kitten.

I thought vaguely about how I really should have tried to wake up. I hated being carried, or, I did in most situations. But this was different. Warren didn't jostle me at all, and his step was even enough that I didn't feel rattled. I snuggled in closer.

"How's she taking everything?" Warren asked. I heard concern in his hushed voice.

"Better than I thought she would. She was mad, of course, but I've seen her angrier. Of course, she never could stay mad at me for long."

"No. Our Lyd, she doesn't know how to hold a grudge. Well, except for…" Warren trailed off and I desperately wanted to ask who he was talking about. I wracked my brain, but couldn't think of anyone I hadn't been able to forgive. You know, in this lifetime.

My thoughts drifted back to Hans, but I couldn't think why. I had only just met him. I didn't remember him from other lifetimes, yet.

"Yeah, well. I'm hoping she won't remember that one for a while yet. He's still guilty, you know. He still feels terrible. When we found Penelope, he sulked for weeks. Even now, he follows her like a lost puppy, like a slave. But when he found out that I knew who Lydia was… It was even worse. Penelope forgave him. I don't know how, because if he'd done the same to me, I never could have. In fact, he wouldn't have lived to see another cycle. I think that's how Lydia's always felt about it, too." My head was spinning and I knew that if there was ever a moment for me to make my eavesdropping known, it was now. I was dying to ask what they were talking about.

"That reminds me, what were you thinking?" Warren shifted me so that my weight was mostly on his left side and I heard a fwap.

"Ow! What that was that for?" Chris complained. What, had Warren really just kicked him? Talk about immature.

"That was for not telling me about Lydia. I could have met her months earlier. What were you thinking?" There was another thud and Chris moaned.

"I always find her first and you always respond with violence. Don't think I like it."

"Just answer the question." I had never in my life heard Warren so… threatening.

Chris heaved a sigh. "I didn't know if she was ready yet. The more she remembers, the easier it is on you. You never have the patience to wait, though. You can't help yourself when it comes to her. So I backed off. I bought her more time."

Warren made a noise deep in his throat that sounded strangely like a growl, bur he let the subject drop. They walked a little farther and I was lulled back into that almost-asleep state. I barely heard Warren say, "No, I'll drive her home. Go on inside." I was slumbering before I could hear Chris' response.

I was swirling, dancing easily across a grand ballroom with my skirts whispering against the floor and warm, strong arms around me. Antoine looked dashing in his formal clothes, belying his playfulness. He kept whirling me around for extra spins, and soon I was dizzy, laughing, and deliriously happy. His antics had all eyes on us, judging and appalled at our behavior, but his presence had me not caring about that, though I knew I would regret all of this in the morning, when mother sat me down for a lecture as father looked disapprovingly on…

I woke with a start and looked wildly around me. "Good morning," a soft voice whispered in my ear. I jolted.

"Warren?" I asked sleepily. "What are you doing here?" I asked. Where was here? I forced my eyes open, taking my surroundings in. "What are you doing in my room?" I asked, feeling suddenly much more awake.

"Would you rather I'd left?" he asked. I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Because darling, you're making it rather hard." I met his eyes, and he pointedly looked down. I did, too, and saw that my arms were wrapped tightly around him, clinging for all they were worth.

How did that happen? "Oh. Sorry." I wriggled, starting to separate myself. How embarrassing was this? "You should have woken me up."

"But then I would have had to leave. I like this option much better." I flushed bright pink. I refused to admit how much I liked waking up and finding myself entangled with him. Where was my sense of propriety?

"If my dad walks in…"

"He won't," Warren said with utter confidence. "He left for work over an hour ago."

"How long have you been up?" I asked curiously. Foolishly, I found myself hoping that he hadn't been bored.

"Not long. I was too busy enjoying my dream. Tell me, do you remember dancing in Paris?" Freaky. Had we shared a dream? I sat up and decided that, just this once, I was going to play along as if none of this was bothering me.

"Salaud. My mother lectured me for hours after you insisted on goofing off like that. Madame Thornier never did forgive me for 'ruining' her ball. I hope it was worth it to you."

"Oh, it was. Especially since the very next night…" Warren trailed off, obviously not knowing whether he had taken it too far. The next night, he talked my father into agreeing to let me marry him.

I flushed and smiled hesitantly, wondering whether these feelings I felt were really my own. It was hard to think of Genevieve, and all of the others, as me. They were still just characters to me, albeit important ones. It was one thing to reminisce. It was quite another to have all of these feelings stirred up and to not even know whether they were feelings I felt for Warren or if they were just the memory of the feelings that other versions of me had once had.

On a sudden impulse, I wriggled myself closer to him and kissed him. It was a butterfly kiss, really, just testing the water. I pulled back and examined his face. His eyes were filled with a fascinating light, one that made it impossible for me not to grin. Even that brief instant of contact had my blood heating and my every nerve tingling.

Warren yanked me closer and kissed me again, but this time it was a lot rougher, with what I imagined to be years of pent-up passion behind it. I had been kissed before, but not like this.

Warren pulled away first, and when he did, we were both gasping in air. The light hadn't left his eyes, but his brow was furrowed.

Maybe he was thinking that this was all a mistake. Maybe he was regretting finding me again and teaching me about our shared history. My stomach dropped.

I shifted so that we were no longer touching, so that I wasn't even on the same side of the bed as him. I was barely able to keep my hands from shaking. "Is something wrong?"

He glanced at me and his eyes scanned my face. He frowned. "No… Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

A laugh escaped my lips, a symptom of my relief. "Are you kidding? That's it?"

His frown deepened. "I don't want to pressure you. I know you're still wary about all of this."

I started to nod, but then stopped. Was I? Now I was only feeling contentment. I'd accepted the strange twist my life had taken. "Aren't you?" he asked when I didn't say anything.

I gulped. This was like jumping off of a ledge, not knowing if the ground would be there to catch me. "Well, actually…" I winced. How to put this? "I think I'm alright."

Warren froze comically, and his eyes widened so that they seemed far too big for his face. "What?" He looked at me incredulously, with so much hope that my heart stuttered. I felt horribly guilty for taking so long to come around. If I had been in his position, I don't know how I could have handled the suspense and the feeling of rejection that must have come up when I took so long to come to terms with everything.

"I… I think that I'm alright with our… history. Actually, I think I might like it." Suddenly, I was being crushed against him. His arms were wound tightly around me and his cheek was pressing against my hair. I hugged him back. This feeling, this comfort, was beginning to feel like something I couldn't live without.