Archive of Our Own

A flash, a crash, and the whole world came tumbling down.

The neon white light of the room created a surreal atmosphere of constant day. From the other side of the door came muffled noises of words and footsteps, punctuated by the steady beeping of the machine next to Nina. It all mixed together in her ears; all she could make out was an infuriating buzzing that crowded her hearing and made her head throb painfully. No matter how tightly she clutched Matthias’ hand, it wasn’t going away.

A light knock made her flinch, head snapping around as if struck in a particularly sensitive point.

“Just me,” said Inej with a soft smile as she walked into the room, closing the door behind her and shutting out the noise. Her hand found Nina’s shoulders as she sat down on the chair next to her, stroking rhythmically as though trying to ease her tense muscles. “Any news?”

Nina shook her head. Various locks of hair escaped her ponytail, but she didn’t have the strength to re-do it, so she just tugged them behind her ears with her free hand before rubbing her damp cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“Here, let me.” Inej stood up and stepped behind Nina, freeing her hair and combing her fingers through the brown waves. With a delicate touch, she moved Nina’s strands away from her face, caressing her cheeks in its path, and Nina let her eyes close under the ministration, exhaling a shaky breath that trembled with more tears. The regular beeps next to her were now matched by the silky sound of Inej’s hands twisting together lock after lock. Her friend secured the braid and let it fall on Nina’s shoulder before sitting again.

“Thanks,” Nina sniffled with the ghost of a smile, returned by Inej’s warm one as she squeezed her knee.

Inej wasn’t the kind of person to say things just to fill the silence, and Nina couldn’t have been more grateful for that. There was nothing that could be said, nothing that could take her mind off the fact that Matthias was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, with tubes coming out of both his arms and attached to that goddamned machine that kept track of his breathing and heartbeat.

The very idea that the beating of his heart needed to be kept in check made Nina sick to her stomach. If there was one thing she was sure of, without exception, it was that when she pressed her face against Matthias’ chest she would feel his heart thudding at a steady, easy pace. It was the even tune that accompanied her nights, the regular music that flowed out of their hugs; it was so familiar to her that Nina could perceive every small variation, for good and for bad—but still, it was always there. The remote possibility that it could just… not be there anymore was abhorrent, like taking away the cornerstone of a solid building. Everything would crumble down with it, and Nina would not survive that fall.

“The doctors said something about waking up in the first 48 hours,” Nina croaked out, voice rasping from the disuse. She needed to say something to stop her thoughts from going to the same dreadful place and to cover the incessant beeping next to her.

“It’s not been 48 hours yet.” Inej’s gentle voice did little to soothe Nina’s worries.

“Yeah,” her fingers fidgeted with the cord of Matthias’ pulse oximeter. “But we’re close.”

-

Jesper stroking her arm startled Nina from her troubled sleep. She’d fallen asleep with her face on the boy’s shoulder while her body was folded in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room. Everything hurt all at once: she felt her back creak sitting up, her leg throbbed with the aftermath of the crash, her head pulsed from the exhaustion.

She rubbed her hands on her face, then downed the espresso Wylan offered her. “What happened? Are they back? Can I go in?”

They had been ordered to leave Matthias’ room when the nurses arrived to take him to do god-knows-what for god-knows-how-long. She had to admire the way everyone kept trying to explain to her what was going on to make sure she had a clear picture of every step of the procedure, but to her it all came down to the single fact that Matthias was still unconscious and did not look like he was going to wake up any time soon. Thankfully, one of her friends—most often Kaz—was always there with her to talk to the doctors and nurses. Nina trusted his brief nods of understanding more than she trusted herself: it was all she needed, to know that everything was under someone’s control. Kaz would take care of it, if begrudgingly, for Nina.

“Drink some water first,” Wylan told her, handing her an opened bottle. Nina washed her throat with it, but it burned oddly, unwelcome in the dry habitat created by her gnawing anxiety.

“He seems to be waking up—hold on,” Jesper stopped her when she stood up in a flash and lurched for Matthias’ door, dragging her back to her seat. “Hold up. He’s not completely conscious yet, but he’s mumbling things, which probably means he’s going to wake up soon.”

Nina looked at him wide-eyed, heart hammering in her chest. “Okay, so? Let me go inside.”

Jesper’s eyes darted to Wylan, who was nervously biting his thumbnail. His next words were spoken slowly, almost carefully: “They just want us to tell you to be ready for anything.”

Her brows knitted together in desperate confusion. “What does that mean?”

“It’s not for certain that he’s actually waking up,” Wylan added. Nina realized Jesper was still holding her arm, and it suddenly irked her. “And, if he does, they’re not sure how he will wake up.”

Her heart fell to her stomach. She felt her chin tremble as her mind was reeling with a million scenarios, each one worse than the other. 

They’re not sure how he will wake up.

That could mean everything and nothing at all at the same time. She just wanted Matthias back. “Can I just… is he in his room? Can I go in?”

Jesper exhaled, standing up with her. “Yeah, let’s go.” The moment she was free, Nina lunged forward until her own arm shot out to find her friend’s support because her leg sent jolts of pain through her body and her head spun.

“Easy now.” Jesper snaked his arm around her waist and hoisted hers across his shoulders.

“You want me to ask for a crutch?” asked Wylan as he took Nina’s other arm to help.

“No, I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m going to sit down again anyway. But maybe some painkillers…?”

The redhead eyed his boyfriend with a silent question in his eyes, but the other man nodded. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

It was a fucking joke, really. She just had a very large, very swollen, very painful bruise all over her left leg while Matthias was not even opening his eyes. She just needed a few painkillers and to avoid heavy lifting while he was hooked up to a nasal cannula to help his breathing stay controlled. To keep him breathing.

They were in the same car. If one of them had to be in a hospital bed, it should have been her, not him.

Finally by his bedside, Nina plopped down and immediately took Matthias’ hand in hers. The oximeter was still alien to her touch, cold and lifeless plastic against her skin, but his palm was warmer than usual, always perfectly fit against hers. Nina intertwined their fingers, her other hand running to his forehead, over the white net of bandages, brushing his hair away from his face.

His brows were slightly furrowed, moving imperceptibly, which made her breath shake with the smallest sob. Maybe he was gaining some consciousness back. Maybe he was dreaming.

The tip of her fingers traced the profile of Matthias’ cheek, gently grazing the beard that was getting longer and thicker with every passing day. She’d always told him he looked unnervingly hot when he didn’t trim it for a few days, and had always tried her best to convince him to grow it out, but the day always came when he would emerge from the bathroom with his cheeks as smooth as a baby’s bottom. She would exasperatedly roll her eyes every time, pouting exaggeratedly and whining at the loss, and he would laugh his deep, thunderous laugh and take her in his arms, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

“You’re as soft as me, now,” she’d say.

“I could never, my love. You’re a feather,” he’d reply, and then he would let her go, just for Nina to catch him back by the hem of his t-shirt and plant her lips on his, fingers caressing his clean-shaven cheeks before locking behind his neck to deepen the kiss.

A low murmur pulled Nina back to the present, making her breath catch and her eyes fill with tears. She couldn’t make out the slurred sounds—probably attempts at Norwegian words—but it didn’t matter. It was a small step, but it was a step towards a happy ending nonetheless. For the first time in almost three days, she had hope.

-

The sun was creeping through the morning clouds, timidly shining inside the room. Nina’s hand was still clutching Matthias’ as, at the foot of the bed, a doctor was explaining to Kaz the further analysis and exams they were going to do.

Nina heard the woman say something about stitches and her eyes fell on the bed sheet resting on the body that she knew so well. Underneath, covered by the t-shirt they had dressed Matthias in, there were cuts and bruises all over his abdomen, the violent memory of the car crash marked onto his fair skin. His right leg, too, beared indelible signs of what had transpired—wrapped in bandages, put in a plaster cast, and lifted slightly from the mattress.

As Kaz spoke with the doctor, Nina drove her focus back to her lover’s face. The bruises under his eyes were growing lighter, the right side of his face was less swollen than the day before, and on his neck, there was the reddish imprint of the collar that the nurses had removed that very morning.

If she could have just kissed it away. Kissed him back to her.

“Nina,” Kaz began, shaking her back to reality. “There are some papers that need to be filled out.” He handed her a small file and she reluctantly let go of Matthias’ hand to thumb through it, pen in hand to write down the needed information. She could do it blindfolded, by now: Matthias Helvar, born in Oslo, 22/10/1995, their address in Amsterdam, his social security number, and a series of ticks confirming that no, he had no chronic or other types of illnesses that the medical team should have been made aware of.

She absentmindedly nodded when Kaz said something. It was out of habit; he probably knew she wasn’t really paying attention.

Then, her hand slipped, and the pen left a long line of ink on the sheet of paper when Matthias suddenly spoke.

The paperwork fell to the floor and Nina almost stumbled on her own feet to reach him and grab his hand again with exhilarated fear, a choked cry resting on her lips. The chair was knocked down as she crouched next to the bed, still holding his hand for dear life; she brought it to her mouth to kiss his knuckles, caressed his face with shaking hands, incredulous at the sight of his eyelids fluttering open.

“Matthias? Matthias, oh my…” She sobbed as he blinked once, twice, frowning. “It’s okay, Matthias, I’m here. You’re okay.”

His eyes squeezed briefly, painfully.

“Vann.” Water. Who knew how his brain was functioning right now—of course the first thing he would say was in his mother tongue.

“Yes, right, yes.” Nina frantically turned left and right to find a glass of water and was surprised when she saw Inej holding one right next to her. “Where did you…?”

“I was just outside. Kaz let us in,” Inej explained, passing her the drink. On the other side of the bed was Wylan, maneuvering with the controls to lift Matthias’ bed up into a sitting position as Jesper put the paper sheets that fell out of Nina’s grasp back in order. 

Her family was all there, and Nina’s heart swelled with gratitude. She couldn’t have done this without them.

Nina carefully cupped the nape of his neck to help Matthias hold his head upright as he took a few sips of water.

“Takk,” he whispered after a moment.

The room went silent for a long moment as he rested his head back on the pillows, closing his eyes again. The only sound was the beeping monitor and the click of Kaz’s cane as he shifted his weight. Nina found Matthias’ hand once more, eyes trained on his face, terrified that he was going to seal his eyes shut all over again. Her heart was beating double-time right in her throat.

“Mr. Helvar, hello, I’m doctor Genezen,” said the woman as she walked into the room with a nurse. “How are you feeling?”

The young nurse cleverly started to check the tubes and needles on the side of the bed opposite to Nina, who was so rooted to the spot that not even an earthquake could have made her budge an inch.

Matthias’ eyes flickered open before blinking a few times, confusion written all over his bruised features. He exhaled heavily, before hissing and frowning as he scanned his own body on the bed, slowly registering his state.

“Hva skjer?” He looked back up at the people in the room. “Hvor er jeg?”

“Does he not speak English like the rest of you?” the doctor asked, turning to Kaz.

“No, he does...”

“It’s fine, I can translate,” Nina said, just then remembering that she was the only one who could understand what Matthias was saying.

She wished she couldn’t. 

She actually wished she could wipe every word coming out of his lips from her mind, because she did not want to linger on what it meant that he didn’t even address her or register her presence by his side, let alone really look at her. Maybe she was just being selfish, but something lodged in her chest that prevented Nina from feeling unconditional relief.

“You were in a bad car accident, Mr. Helvar,” the doctor continued, and Nina promptly translated. Her voice broke when Matthias turned his face towards her, and her injured leg twitched when he squeezed her hand. It was just a bad feeling, she thought, everything is going to be okay now. “You were taken to the hospital where you’ve been unconscious for almost a week, and we’ve been taking care of you. How are you feeling now?”

Matthias didn’t answer right away when Nina finished speaking. He kept looking at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as they scrutinized her face. It lasted for a minute or an hour, Nina couldn’t be sure, not with the way everything faded away around her except the glacial blue of his gaze. 

She felt her heart sink down to her knees.

“Matthias,” Nina whispered softly, tentatively lifting her hand.

His eyes followed the motion, slowly, intently, until her palm was an inch away from his cheek and she made to close the distance.

He flinched away from her touch.

Behind her, Inej inhaled a sharp breath as Nina’s shoulders collapsed. She stared at him, a blank void taking up space in her mind, in her chest, in her soul, a sudden and devastating emptiness paired with the heart-wrenching feeling of his hand disentangling from hers. Her fingers looked awful without his own around them. When her watery eyes locked with his again, all she could see in his icy gaze was fogged disorientation and wariness. 

It was as though her body knew before her mind: her breathing accelerated in panic and her chest felt like caving in on itself before Matthias uttered the words.

“Who are you?”

Nina was outside Matthias’ room. The door was ajar, and she could see the light coming from within, just like she could hear the voice of the doctor inside, briefing Matthias about everything that they did to him and the further exams they had planned. Someone else had walked in, too, at some point, another doctor Nina hadn’t seen before; her mind faintly registered that he was a neurologist, but she was also trying to block that information out because it was impossible. It was not possible that Matthias didn’t remember who she was. Impossible.

She stared at the wall in front of her, gracelessly slumped in a chair, unable to fix on a single coherent thought, her ears buzzing, her head spinning. The only constant seemed to be the pain in her leg that was somehow growing stronger all at once—or maybe Nina was only belatedly realizing just how much it hurt in that very moment, now that her mind had a break from constantly worrying about whether or not Matthias was going to wake up.

Something stung in the back of her mind. Was she really thinking that maybe it would have been better if he had stayed asleep?

Inej shook her out of her petrifying train of thought.

“I have a donut.”

Nina turned to face her. She looked at Inej, at the donut in her hand then back again, and she felt her bottom lip tremble for the billionth time since she’d set foot into that damned hospital. Inej quickly put the donut in her lap and her arms wrapped around Nina, who hid in her friend’s embrace, clinging with both hands to Inej’s slim figure. She felt a reassuring hand on her head, gently raking through her disheveled hair to try and put it back in place.

Hot tears streamed down Nina’s cheeks as her whole body crumpled and shook in a quiet sob. “He doesn’t—he…”

“The doctors,” Inej interrupted her, “said that it’s likely just temporary. That it’s actually very common that people who were in bad car accidents lose their memory, but, depending on the degree of severity of their concussion and trauma, the memories will come back with just a little time.”

The words entered one of Nina’s ears and quickly exited through the other. “He didn’t recognize me, Inej. He doesn’t remember me.” Her voice cracked around the last syllables, another sob making her quiver. “I’m… I—he doesn’t remember me,” she repeated, incapable of explaining the overwhelming magnitude of loss that was taking hold of her. 

What did it mean to live in a world where Matthias was there, just behind a semi-opened door, but didn’t have the faintest clue about who she was, while he meant everything—everything—to her?

She felt Inej’s lips ghost a kiss on her temple. “You want to go talk to a doctor?”

“It’s not going to change anything!” She snapped, more angrily than she meant to, before deflating with a miserable sniffle. “Sorry, I just…”

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m fine, see?” Inej said, lifting Nina’s face and wiping some tears from her cheeks. “Let’s talk to someone anyway, okay? Come with me.”

She looped her arm around Nina’s and they both walked to where the neurologist was talking to Kaz a few meters away. He was a nice man, or so it seemed by the professional yet kind way he talked to Nina; he didn’t flinch at her devastated, tearful expression nor did he seem to be bothered by it. He wasn’t condescending, and he did his best to make sure she could understand everything he was saying. 

It wasn’t the doctor’s fault that Nina wasn’t really paying attention, her mind too occupied by what was going on behind the wall next to her, inside her boyfriend’s head.

“Will he…” she tried after a bit, swallowing yet another sob. Her voice was small, a thin, invisible tether tying her to sanity. 

“Get his memories back?”

The tears didn’t sting anymore. They were just always there, an awful companion to her horrible days. “Yes. Will he get his memories back?”

“As I was saying, there is a decent chance that it will happen, but I can’t give you any certainty.”

Nina nodded. “And, um… is it affecting his short-term memory, too?”

“Are you asking if tomorrow he will remember today?” Another nod. “I suppose yes, but we’ll have proper confirmation when he wakes up next time. You see, right here, this shows…” The doctor went on as he took out a scan of Matthias’ brain, on which he started pointing out specific spots that had certain consequences when touched or hit in this or that way. 

Nina zoned out again, nodding absentmindedly in her confidence that both Kaz and Inej—who had not left her side for one second—were actually listening to and retaining all the important information.

Her trust in them was confirmed when Inej asked, “So, do you think something like stories could trigger his memory back?”

“Yes, possibly, it could help speed the process along. There isn’t a clear path however: sometimes it happens step by step, sometimes they all come rushing back at once, sometimes external help is of service, sometimes it’s not.” Nina kept her eyes on the tips of her shoes, raising them only when she felt the doctor’s hand on her arm. “Still worth a shot,” he smiled warmly.

“When you say stories…”

“Something from his past. Anything, really. Again, there’s no precise way to determine what could trigger a person’s memories back.” Nina appreciated that he left out the if part, even though it still lingered in the air.

The doctor kept talking as Nina’s attention shifted back to Matthias’ door. I have stories, she thought. There were a thousand different things she could tell him about.

She could recount their house-hunting, the never-ending days planning the layout of their new apartment, or when they decided to paint it all by themselves, making a mess all around and changing their mind half-way through, ultimately resolving to hire a professional to do it. To be fair, it had really been Nina’s decision. And in her defense, the mattress was new, and they were bound to try it sooner or later, so, really, why not do it there and then, when they both had no other obligations for the day? They had to prioritize.

She could tell him about that one time they stayed at his parents’ place for the winter holidays, how he made her squeeze into those god-awful but incredibly warm and comfortable knitted vests, the way it made his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning, and how she quickly made sure his cheerful expression disappeared, replaced by a glare and a heavy blush with just a few choice words whispered in his ear.

Or maybe she could start with something farther back in time. She could take his family photo album from the shelf in their living room and tell him the stories he’d once told her about his childhood. They could leaf through the pictures together and she could tell Matthias of how his father taught him to ski and climb and fish, of how he made pies with his mother every Sunday; about his little sister, Estrid, and how she never shared her stuffed animals even though he always let her play with his. About his best friend in the whole world, Trassel, his green-and-blue-eyed husky—and she could show him the picture of a five-year old Matthias curled up against his dog’s large body, both of them sleeping soundly, that had always made Nina particularly weak. 

Did he remember any of that?

Perhaps she should wait  until his family arrived. Estrid had been alerted immediately after the accident by the others, and they made sure she knew they had the situation under control, but she still wanted to be near her brother. Living in the U.S. didn’t make last-minute trips easy though, and she was also going to stop in Oslo to pick up her parents before making their way to Amsterdam together. They were bound to arrive any day now, and Nina could only hope that Matthias remembered his parents at least, or that seeing his family could help—no, trigger—something.

“Nina?”

Inej was looking at her questioningly.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, do you want to go in?”

Nina stared at the door. On the other side, a beeping monitor, a bottle of water on a bedside table, and the love of her life—who didn’t know who she was—in a sterile bed.

There was a hole in her chest shaped like Matthias’ soft smile, and it widened every time she remembered the freezing coldness of his gaze on her, as he looked at a stranger holding his hand.

Yes, she could tell him stories, but would he remember them, after? Or would he just have a new memory, forged from the tale itself? The questions stormed together in Nina’s mind, a crescendo of fright that sucked the air right out of her lungs. Was there going to be any future for them, without their shared past?

She shook her head ever-so-slightly. “I can’t,” she whispered, looking away from the door and back at Inej. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

-

Up to that moment, a head completely void of thoughts was something Nina had never experienced in her entire life. But there and then, as the minutes passed by, hollow and meaningless, while she sat motionless on a small armchair next to the hospital’s vending machine, not a single notion was forming in her head. Usually, her mind was a tornado of ideas, memories, images, voices whispering and shouting, her own voice talking back to her, expectations, plans, reminders… but it was all gone. Disappeared into eternal emptiness.

She raised her head when she heard a door click and footsteps frantically coming in her direction. Nina jumped up to meet Estrid halfway, letting the blonde’s crumpled face hide in the crook of her shoulder as she broke into tears. Estrid’s petite body shook violently in Nina’s arms; Nina tried to keep her hold steady around the girl’s waist and back, caressing her long hair in a soothing motion.

“He… fuck.” Estrid pulled away and covered her face with trembling hands, rubbing the heels on her eyes. Nina reached for her bag and passed over a clean tissue, which was promptly accepted. “Sorry,” Estrid said as she wiped her red eyes and tapped her nose. “It’s just… he…”

“I know.” They looked at each other for a long moment filled with shared loss and uncharacteristic silence. They were the loudest women in his life, Matthias used to say, pretending to be annoyed but secretly loving how the two of them got along from the start and could talk and laugh for hours on end. “Your parents,” Nina said after a while, breaking the silence. “Does he…?”

“Yes, thank God.” Estrid sniffled, trying to gain some composure. She passed her hands over her face again before looking around for a place to sit, clearly spent, and Nina gently tugged her elbow towards the chair on the opposite end of the corridor. “He’s talking to them right now. It’s weird, I don’t know…” It was heartbreaking to see such a lively girl collapse into a chair as though the whole world was weighing down on her shoulders. “He’s aware that he’s not a kid anymore, and that he lived for a certain amount of time, but he can’t seem to recollect a single thing from the past.”

Nina quietly sat down next to her. She hadn’t worked up the courage to go and talk to Matthias yet, so everything she knew was second-hand information and medical talk from which she was trying to draw a somewhat accurate picture of what was happening to him. 

“Did you… did you actually talk with him?”

“The doctor said to try without pushing anything. So, yeah, I did try, but…” Estrid’s voice broke slightly. She took a deep breath. “He recognized mom and dad straightaway, but there was nothing when he looked at me, not even confusion. I’m a complete stranger to him,” she whispered. If that was devastating for Nina, she could only imagine how shockingly horrendous it must have been for Estrid, who had had Matthias by her side her entire life.

The two siblings were incredibly close, even if they didn’t tend to be overly affectionate with one another. They’d had the privilege of growing up in a very loving household, which had  rooted and deepened their bond. The kind of connection they shared was like the one generally shared by twins, and Nina knew it was no exaggeration because she had witnessed, on more than one occasion, Matthias waking in the middle of the night just minutes before his sister called from the other side of the ocean. She couldn’t even begin to fathom Estrid’s state: it must have been like hers but multiplied by a thousand painful units.

“I didn’t say anything, I pretended I was just accompanying mom and dad,” Estrid went on. Her voice trembled, her hands were still clasped together, but the sheer strength she was emanating was something foreign to Nina, who had broken down into a million pieces instead and was still struggling to hold herself together. “And, uh… he said he’s actually feeling better, that his head doesn’t hurt as much anymore and that he can feel his leg again.” She turned towards Nina, nodding. “Which is good. Right?”

“Yeah,” Nina nodded back, “it’s good.” For a small part, at least.

Estrid kept nodding, mostly to herself, and then bit her lip when the nodding turned into a shaking of her head. “I don’t know what to do, Nina. I’m… what if…”

“The doctors said it’s likely temporary,” Nina repeated dutifully, because she had no idea what to do either and had no fucking way around that. “At least he remembers your parents, that… that must count for something.”

The younger woman reached for her hand, locking their fingers together. Nina gave a squeeze with the barest flicker of a smile on her face. She wanted to say something encouraging, tell her that they were going to get through this, that they would find a way, but it all sounded like meaningless words to her. And no matter the collectedness on Estrid’s face, it was clear that she was just tiptoeing around a large abyss that threatened to swallow her whole.

Mr. and Mrs. Helvar came out of their son’s room shortly after, and the two girls stood up, bracing themselves to face whatever it meant to talk to someone who still existed as a vivid memory in Matthias’ mind.

-

Walking back into his room seemed to be the most difficult decision Nina had ever made. But it had to happen sooner or later, and she couldn’t put it off forever. So, a few days later, she shut her countless fears out of her mind and went straight for the door.

Matthias was still in bed, but now sitting mostly upright, his legs free and only small band-aids adorning his face. The dark circles under his eyes were still more pronounced than usual, but the general puffiness had dissipated, and his skin was back to its natural color.

He’d shaved, too.

He lifted his eyes from the crossword he was working on when Nina knocked on the open door.

Here we go.

“Bad time?” She gave him a small smile.

“Huh?” He looked back at the puzzle in his hands. “Oh, no, just… the doctors said it could help with…” He held the magazine up and tapped on his head with the pen. “But, no, it’s fine, have a seat.”

Nina closed the door behind her and went to her usual place—except that now the chair wasn’t as close to the bed as she would have liked it to be.

Matthias’ eyes never left her figure, which made her uncharacteristically nervous.

“Sorry, you’re, uh…” He frowned, focusing hard on remembering something. “You were here when I woke up, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” That’s one way to put it. “Yes, I was. Are you—”

“I’m sorry if—oh, sorry, go on,” he stopped when their words overlapped.

“No. No, it’s fine, I just…” Nina trailed off. The thing about just walking in there was that she had no idea what to do or what to say. No plan. How was she supposed to talk to someone she knew like the back of her hand but who was looking at her as if she was a passer-by on the street? “You go.”

Matthias scoffed, lowering his head with a lopsided smile. The kind of smile that had made her fall for him, many years before. The urge to throw herself at him and burrow her face in his chest was overwhelming. 

“Just, uh… I’m sorry if I…” He rubbed his forehead before his fingers started tapping against his skull. “I’m sorry if…”

Raising his head, his crestfallen eyes met hers. Nina felt a cold chill run down her spine, and a sudden spike of guilt in her heart. She’d been so focused on herself that she never stopped for a second to think about how it must have felt for him. Estrid had said that he was aware of having a past he didn’t remember, and Nina had preferred to drown in her own sorrow instead of being there for him. A+ girlfriend behavior, really.

He didn’t avert his blue eyes when he finally asked, “Should I know you?”

Nina stared at him for a second before letting out a deep breath. He’d always been so beautiful. “Well, that’s a big question, isn’t it?” 

Matthias laughed lightly, his hand back on his head, scratching his hair and pulling it back. She felt her own fingers burn with the need for closeness, a desperate cry coming from her body to touch him, to feel him.

She twisted them in her lap instead.

“I’ll ignore the ‘should’ part, and just…” She took a steadying breath. His cheeks were slightly pinker than when she’d walked in. “I’m Nina. Nina Zenik.”

A beat passed. 

She realized then, that somewhere in the back of her mind she was hoping for a miracle. 

It didn’t happen.

“I’m Matthias,” he replied. “But you probably know that, right?” he added rather apologetically.

Nina laughed, and, for a second, everything else seemed inconsequential. There was something about Matthias that had always made her feel secure, shielded, safe, and it was happening even then, when he was introducing himself as though it was the very first time. Everything was different from their real first time, but the feeling of her heart swelling was exactly the same, as was the sense of peace washing over her whenever she laid eyes on him.

“I’m sure someone told you: we were in the same car when the accident happened.”

She’d had the presence of mind to confer with Kaz before coming in, just to know what the neurologist had said about how to confront Matthias, what to say and what to avoid, and the one clear takeaway was that she should have strayed clear from mentioning that she was his girlfriend, because the kind of emotional baggage that brought was simply too much for now. The same reason Estrid didn’t tell him that she was his sister.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his expression immediately morphing into a concerned one. Her sweet, caring, loving Matthias. She swallowed the lump in her throat.  

“Yes, yep, I’m fine, I was very lucky,” she said with a tight-lipped smile, lifting her mostly healed leg. “See, I just had some problems with this one for a few days, but I’m all good now.”

“That’s great,” he smiled softly. His eyes lingered on her figure as Nina brought her leg back down. “I know it’s probably weird to ask, but…” he frowned before driving his eyes back to hers. “Do you remember? What happened?”

The memory hit Nina’s brain with the force of a thousand centaurs. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking for the right words to use and stammering a bit before clearing her throat. She had relived it in detail only once, when she spoke to the police officers; all of her friends had deemed it best not to stress her about it once they grasped the key details. 

“We were on a secondary street; it was pretty late at night. Well, not that late, not the kind of late where you’re feeling sleepy,” she amended when she saw the twitch in Matthias’ face. “And it was a straight road. Fairly well-lit, too. We were driving and we were…” arguing. They were arguing about something so stupid that she’d even forgotten, or made sure to forget, because while Matthias was sleeping, she couldn’t have bear thinking that their last exchange had been a petty fight. “We were discussing something—just, you know, random things.”

She was avoiding his gaze and wondered whether he knew that she was doing so out of guilt or if that was the intimate kind of knowledge that only his lost memories could have provided. “Then another car appeared, basically out of nowhere because the driver had the lights off and was also rather tipsy,” she went on. “I believe someone already told you this?”

“Yeah,” Matthias confirmed, “Doctor Genezen said something about another person involved. But he’s fine, right?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s fine, too. I actually spoke with him as well…” She started tormenting her fingers in her lap. “Well, basically his car swerved, I have no idea what he was doing inside, and the crash was immediate and frontal.” Nina found Matthias’ eyes again and surprisingly realized that hers were perfectly dry. “The impact made us spin out to the side of the road, collide with the guardrail and land on the side… Your side.” She mimicked the action with her hands in front of her. Matthias wasn’t looking at her, eyes fixed in front of him, probably trying to figure out if he could remember any of that.

The sense of guilt that had begun to creep into Nina’s mind and soul since the moment first aid had arrived that night suddenly took control of her emotions, wiping them out. She was safe and sound, her leg healed, essentially without a scratch—and he was…

“We’re going to discuss it when we get home, okay?” he’d said, trying to put a quick end to that stupid argument.

“I don’t want to discuss it when we get home, I want to discuss it now,” Nina had snapped, turning towards him. “Don’t give me that look, Matthias, this isn’t—”

“I don’t see how we can have a meaningful conversation right now, in the middle of the road,” he had shot back, increasingly cross. “You’re just gonna—”

“We can have meaningful conversations on the top of Mount Everest for all I care, all you need to do is listen to m—”

And then a sudden flash, Matthias screaming her name, and the crash.

She looked at him holding her breath as his brows furrowed, scanning his injuries and back at the leg she’d raised. Matthias blinked for a few seconds, bringing his hands to his head to massage his temples.

“There’s something missing,” he said. “If the crash was frontal, and we skidded to the side of the road… how is my right side…”

Nina inhaled a deep breath. There was no getting around it, not at that point, not anymore. And no matter how much she would have loved to change the past, no matter how much she’d tried to block out the fact itself because it was too much to bear, it weighed too heavily on her, she still had to face the ugly truth.

“I was driving.” It was all my fault.

-

“Hey,” Nina smiled as she strolled into the room, “I come with lunch!”

“Are you trying to steal the nurses’ job?” Matthias replied as he set aside his new crossword and turned on the bed to face the lunch tray.

Nina faked offense, emphatically bringing a hand to her chest. “Do you think so low of me that you can’t accept a simple gesture of kindness?”

Matthias laughed, beckoning her to sit down. “You’re not eating?”

“Thankfully, I don’t have to follow your ungodly schedule, so I’ll have lunch later,” she said as she took a seat in front of him. The band-aids were gone from his face, the bruises almost completely healed. He was bound to be released any day now, depending on how his brain responded to the latest exams.

“At least you’re spared these awful mashed potatoes,” he said as he shoveled a mouthful down his throat. “I bet the chef is not even Irish.”

“You ever tried actual Irish cuisine?” Nina asked, completely aware that he likely didn’t remember—but she still had to try her chances.

After the day she’d told him about the accident, it had become easier to talk to Matthias. She was still feeling as if she were walking on eggshells around him, and when she closed the door and went back to meet the others she still had those waves of terrible, wounding guilt washing over her—she was pretty sure they would never go away—but the fact that she was slowly building a relationship with him, albeit different from before, seemed to be helping.

Yes, it all felt weird, and yes it all felt wrong—no, it was all wrong—but it was still something, and she clung to it for the sake of her own sanity.

“I don’t know, have I?” Matthias replied wittily.

“Busted,” Nina scoffed as he kept eating with a smile.

“I’m kidding though; I do have some vague memory, somewhere,” he added after a minute, loosely gesturing with his hand around his head. “It’s mostly feelings and sensations, or flashes of images. But it’s there.” He paused. “Somewhere.”

His eyes turned to look at her. The truth was that if Nina had been scared shitless of what it could have meant for her to face an oblivious Matthias, she had found it was even more terrifying facing him when he only knew her as the woman-driving-the-car-in-the-crash-that-made-him-lose-his-memory. Would he resent her? She would have probably resented him. After all, she was now a complete stranger to him, wasn’t she?

Instead, the day after their serious talk Matthias had asked after her. His parents had come out of his room glowing, making a beeline for where she was sitting with Estrid and Inej, and they’d told her with a beaming smile that Matthias had asked them if they knew her. Estrid’s eyes had illuminated on the spot, and with Inej’s help had basically forced Nina back into Matthias’ room, no complaints allowed. When she found herself in front of him, Matthias had lifted his head, tilted it with a smile and said, “Nina. Hi.” It had felt like hope.

“Maybe someone should take you there and see what happens,” she teased him now.

“I don’t know if I want to go to Ireland,” he frowned. “I have more of this picture of long beaches in my head, of a torrid summer that makes you gasp for breath.” Nina’s heartbeat faltered. “I’m not sure that’s the case in Ireland.”

“What do you mean you have ‘a picture’?”

“Just that, uh… like, when I look at my sister—”

“Your sister?” No one had told him Estrid was his sister yet.

Matthias paused. “Yeah, well, I have amnesia or whatever the hell this is, but I’m not dumb. It’s like looking in a mirror, but without the beard.”

His shy smile made a well of happiness erupt in Nina’s chest. The fact that he was deducing things and wasn’t too shaken up by them must have meant something. Something good.

“Right,” she smiled, “it’s just that… sorry, never mind. You were saying?”

“When I look at Estrid,” he emphasised the name with a wriggle of his eyebrows, “I have these flashes of mountains, and woods, and hot cocoa. And, weirdly enough, the Statue of Liberty?” 

Nina could have cried. “Not weird at all,” she said a bit tentatively. “Estrid lives in New York.”

Matthias’ eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. She does?” Nina nodded, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “Well, that’s, uh… that’s great,” he said, attacking some more of his mashed potatoes. “So, um, what does it mean if I say that when I look at you, I see those beaches I was talking about?”

If her heartbeat had faltered before, now it was pounding double, even triple-time.

“That you want to take me on a vacation?” 

At that, Matthias burst out laughing, his smile lighting up his whole face. It was so easy, like that, so normal, so natural. She had to get this one right. 

“I have a great recommendation, actually—have you ever been to Greece?”

“You need to stop asking me if I have ever been somewhere,” he said as he poured himself some water, still grinning.

“Well, I’ve been to Greece once, and I went to this super small island by Athens, I don’t even remember the name of the place… there was this incredible restaurant that made pitas. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I know what a pita is.”

“Progress!” He chuckled. “Anyway, it was so hot. So hot, I felt like I was melting. My friends and I found this very small beach, left our stuff there and went swimming. There was only a café with a shower box in the proximity and a handful of other people enjoying the quietness of the place.” She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, not for too long anyway. “When I got out of the water, I went to shower and buy a bottle of cold water because, really, we were dying.”

“I bet it gets hot in the Mediterranean.”

“It does,” Nina nodded seriously. “Well, anyway, the thing is that I was still pretty wet, and I opened the bottle to drink then closed my eyes because the sun was blinding me, and the next thing I know is I’m on the ground, water splashing next to me, sand sticking all over my body—all over—and this mortified guy is stumbling on his words trying to apologize for bumping into me and causing that mess.”

They were both laughing by that point. To be precise, Matthias was choking on his lunch because he had the very unwise idea of chewing while Nina was talking, and she was chuckling as she stood up reflexively to help him gulp down. She patted one hand against his broad back, the other one resting on his shoulder, until he gained enough air to mutter a thank you and down some water.

Nina slid her hand down his spine in what felt like slow motion but was probably a split second. The other one lingered on the curve of his arm for a moment too long, but she moved it away before Matthias could point something out about it. The feel of him under both of her palms suddenly felt intolerable, and she closed her aching hands in two tight fists, hiding them from his sight.

“I should hope this guy bought your water back at least,” Matthias said as Nina sat back.

The thing about memory loss is that it can’t really erase who a person is at their very core. It’s true that the past ordeals of our lifetime define us, and it’s also true that the delicate balance that is our life relies heavily on grounds of common experiences that we share with the people we love, and taking all that away means disrupting every possible sense of equilibrium we, us and the others, might think to have managed—but then again, it’s also true that that the soul doesn’t change, that instincts stay the same no matter where they’re born from. Once they’re there, how can they be taken away?

And Matthias might have not remembered a single thing about that hot summer day in Greece when he’d clumsily made Nina fall down on the sand; he might have not remembered how he couldn’t stop apologizing and he certainly didn’t remember the second the twinkle in her eyes changed, because he’d been beautifully oblivious from the very first day. 

He might have not remembered how that fateful first crash had brought them together, and he might have not remembered how they ate pitas that very night, how Nina wiped the sauce from the corner of his lips with her thumb, how he walked her home at 1 AM, how they met on the beach the next day—purposely this time—and the day after that, and the day after that. And he might have not remembered that it was a full moon the night she’d finally said fuck it all and leaned in while sitting on a parapet to kiss him.

Or, better, he might have only had flashes of clear water and white beaches, but when Nina looked at him, at the expression on his face, she knew that everything was not completely lost. Not yet, not for good. Not with the two of them.

“Yeah. Yes, he did buy the water back,” she smiled, her green gaze locked with his, unwilling to lose a second more of their time together. 

Matthias searched her face, searched her watery eyes, and she could see his mind trying to put together the pieces of life that he was keeping secured in the back of his brain but seemed unable to return to the forefront.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything there was a knock on the door, and a nurse walked in to take him to do some exam Nina didn’t even understand the name of.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matthias asked as she stood up, collecting her few things. There was a clear note of anticipation in his voice, paired with a slight inflection of expectation.

“Sure, yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The smile he gave her took her breath away. “Bye, Nina.”

-

His memory had started to come and go. Sometimes, he would remember something from his most recent past, right before the accident, and he would blurt it out loud just to show that something was coming back. It was happening with more or less everyone; sometimes the memories stayed there, sometimes they dissolved again.

For example, one day Jesper entered the room and Matthias suddenly remembered that he had pizza for lunch with him the day of the accident. The next day he’d forgotten again, and when Jesper went to greet him he was back to his cordial-but-rather-cold post-crash attitude.

It had been different with Estrid, and thank God for that. She had fallen asleep just outside his room, and Matthias had walked out when he heard her phone ringing without an answer. He’d grabbed it from her bag and sat next to her, shaking her gently awake.

“Hey, smilefjes.”

Estrid had jumped off the chair, looking wide-eyed at Matthias, who was holding the phone in front of her. She ignored the call and hastily pulled him into a crushing hug, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably as he caressed her back with a soft laugh. He hadn’t been able to explain it: one day he didn’t know who Estrid was and the next he could even remember the nickname he’d given her when she was just a baby, all smiles and puffy hands. His sister had been terrified that he would have forgotten again the next day, but he didn’t, and the packs of tissues she’d opened that day to dry her tears were too many to count.

His memories of Nina didn’t seem to be coming back though. The day of his release was approaching, and she already had the discussion with Matthias’ parents to ask them to either stay with him for a while in the city or take him back to Oslo with them. They’d opposed—everyone had opposed, really: his parents, Estrid, their friends, and even the doctors were trying to say something about routine, but it was becoming unbearable for Nina. 

She hadn’t told him what they were, even though she was pretty sure Matthias had figured it out, and thinking about facing days and nights together with him still having no clear and complete memory of her was… too much. 

She knew that if she wanted to trigger his memories, she would have to stay around him—that was what everyone was telling her—but it hadn’t worked out up until that moment, right? So, who was to say that it wasn’t best to just set him free? Let him go? Let him live this somewhat new life where he remembered his family and most things about himself and his friends, without the looming presence of something else—someone else—that his mind couldn’t seem to recognize?

“He constantly asks after you. I don’t see how this is a good idea, honestly,” Kaz had sharply told her, after Estrid had pled for his help.

“Look, it’s not your decision to make.”

“It’s hardly just yours as well.”

“He’s… I can’t…”

“What? Is this your sense of guilt speaking? Or is it just pure selfishness?”

“I’m not being selfish,” Nina had snapped back. That would have meant she was doing what was best for her and separating from Matthias was everything but good for her. “Do you think I want to leave him? Do you think I’d gain something from giving up on him recovering his memories of me? He’s the love of my life and we had a future planned together and he doesn’t know who I am!”

Kaz wasn’t impressed by her outburst. “You have to tell him the truth.”

He was right and she knew it. Logically she knew, but her heart… her heart couldn’t take this much longer. She tried covering the ache in stubbornness. “What the hell would that change? It’s been almost a month and he’s got most of his important memories back except…”

“He has a right to know. You want him to remember about you, then show him all of you. Let’s see if that sparks something in him.” The same words coming from anyone else might have had a hopeful, even calming effect, but when Kaz spoke them they went straight to Nina’s gut, making her turn around and march into Matthias’ room without saying another word.

She didn’t tell him. She was looking for the right moment and it never seemed to arrive. Nina hated herself for it but she couldn’t bear seeing the carefree smile on his face dim because of her, or worse, the warm blue of his eyes become ice cold because she dumped this huge burden on him when he was just starting to gain back some semblance of normalcy.

Then again, was there ever going to be a right moment? She pondered this once more before walking into Matthias’ room a few days later.

His beard was long. Not as long as when he’d been unconscious, but longer than usual. His eyes sparkled when her head poked through the door, and he opened up in a warm, unbruised smile. Nina never wanted to see anything but that beautiful smile ever again, even though he had no idea of the effect it had on her.

“Nina. Come on in,” Matthias said, stretching for the remote control on the bedside table. “I want to show you something.”

“You do? That’s new.”

He kept smiling as he zipped through the channels and made a satisfied sound when he landed on a particular one. “They’re broadcasting Fight Club tonight,” he told her, turning to face her. “You said it was my favorite movie.”

Nina frowned. “I never said that.”

“You said there was a poster of it at my house and you couldn’t get me to take it down,” Matthias pointed out. “Told you. Amnesia, not dumb.”

She made a non-committal sound, sitting down and pouring herself some water. “Well, you know, if you don’t remember it, you could update your taste and watch something else. You never understood it anyway.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you completely missed the sociological critique towards an over-masculinized society, so,” she shrugged, then snickered when he pouted a bit.

“Well, maybe I’ll get it tonight. Care to watch?”

“Is this a movie date?”

“Maybe,” he smiled with a tilt of his shoulders. “Yes or no?”

Nina bit her bottom lip. “Alright, you got me.” She started dragging her chair closer to the bed to better see the screen when Matthias stopped her.

“Nonsense. Climb up here,” he said, scooting over on the bed to make room for her. Nina blinked, her head suddenly going blank. “Come on,” Matthias repeated, tapping on the mattress. “I won’t bite.”

Now, that was new. Matthias, who used to blush when Nina simply touched his arm in public, was asking her to sit on the bed next to him to watch a movie in a hospital room.

“We won’t fit,” she managed.

“We’ll fit.”

“It’s really small.”

His eyes danced around for a second. “Are you actually opposing this?” Amnesia, not dumb.

“Okay,” she relented, raising her hands, “okay, I’m coming.” She was terrified of what was going to happen the moment she’d laid her head against his shoulder. Because there was no way they would fit, except pressed right up against each other, and he knew that.

Matthias adjusted the pillows and dimmed the lights, turning the volume up. Finding their positions was a bit awkward and they wiggled for a bit before settling into the final fit; then he stretched his arm over the pillows and Nina rested on it, head secured in the crook of it as his body seemed to naturally fold on her. She felt her heart drumming and stilling at the same time as she had to stifle a whimper when she was suddenly engulfed by his scent.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked in a whisper, careful to remember where exactly his physical injuries were and trying not to poke the spots.

“No, I’m fine. Are you comfy enough?”

“Yeah,” she sighed as the movie started. “Yes, I’m comfy enough.”

She fell asleep halfway through it, curled up against Matthias’ chest, one of his arms holding her close and their legs entwined, worries of what would happen after abandoning her mind.

The sun came up shyly, its rays cutting through the window blinds.

Matthias rubbed his drowsy eyes vigorously with one hand, then turned to see what was blocking the other from moving.

Nina.

She was sleeping peacefully next to him, her head on his chest, her arm on his waist, his own curled over her hips. He could hear the quiet and steady thudding of her heart.

Fragments of information came to his mind, slowly but surely.

A hospital room.

A jolt of pain on his abdomen.

A dizzy feeling in his leg.

Another funny one in his mouth, like he couldn’t exactly feel his teeth there.

Nina, tentatively walking into the room.

Nina, sitting on the chair to the side of his bed.

Nina, clutching his hand.

His parents.

His sister.

Nina again, a horrified look on her face as he pulled away from her touch.

Doctors coming and going.

A sudden crash, the world turning upside down.

The realization that there wasn’t enough room on the road to be safe.

An argument?

Nina, right there, filling his senses with her rose-scented perfume. She’d always loved that one, it was her favorite, and he’d always made sure she never ran out of it.

Or had he?

Inej, Jesper and Wylan. Kaz talking to doctors.

Nurses drawing his blood and checking his vitals.

A beeping machine.

Nina, running on feet-scorching sand towards the open sea.

Nina, reaching over to wipe his dirty mouth.

Nina, leaning in to kiss him.

Did she?

Estrid was supposed to come and pick him up, he was being released today. Someone had said something about Oslo, but he didn’t know why he should have gone back to his hometown. What was wrong with Amsterdam? The person he loved was here.

Nina grunted and hid her head right under his armpit, to shadow her face from the morning sun. His fingers went to her hair, brushing away her chestnut waves and tucking them behind her ear.

Nina.

My Nina.

Nina thought he didn’t remember who she was. Which wasn’t that far from the truth: he hadn’t remembered who she was. He hadn’t known who she was. Then he’d remembered she was the beautiful woman keeping him company day in and day out, a peculiar glint in her mesmerizing eyes—sad? Scared? He couldn’t place it. But he didn’t remember in the true sense, in the right one. Matthias was sure there was a right one, he could feel it inside his chest whenever she smiled at him.

Nina was driving. She was pissed off about… about… 

They were driving home. The other car came out of nowhere.

He’d had a pizza with Jesper that day. He’d always liked Jesper, since that day on the beach. Odd kind of guy. Funny though.

Greece had been unbearably hot. Wylan had given him and his friends his sunburn cream because they were in desperate need of it.

He had a photo somewhere of Inej braiding Nina’s hair, a laugh painted on his love’s face. It was probably a different beach. Maybe it wasn’t even a beach at all. He’d asked Kaz for his film camera.

Nina.

The picture was taped to the fridge in their kitchen. When she’d asked him why he put it there, his answer was disarmingly simple: no matter the day he had or the mood he was in or the state of the world, he would have looked at that photo and remembered his one reason to be happy. Always.

Matthias turned and cupped her cheek, delicately, tilting her head just a bit. His lips brushed against her temple, leaving the shadow of a kiss behind.

She blinked her eyes open. The light was scarce, but the full green of them was unmistakable. He loved it.

He loved her.

“Nina.”

A breath, and then her eyes widened, tears pooling at their corners as the beating of her heart accelerated. Her hand darted to his cheek, shaking fingers tangling in his beard. He had to cut it. She would hate it. 

“Matthias?” Her voice trembled with a billion ineffable emotions. He would apologize for them all. Later. Now, he had to make sure she knew. 

“Nina,” he repeated, his arm tightening around her to keep her flush against his chest. He would never let her go again. “Little red bird.”

Their lips found their way to each other in the blink of an eye. Smiles mixed with salt.

He remembered. Everything.