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Doctor woke up in cold sweat. Their body trembling, and the air feels unnecessarily thick, making them cough. Suffocating. Eyes blacking out for two seconds when they try to stand up and grab a glass of water sitting on a desk near the sofa they were sleeping on.
It's empty. The dizziness kicks in.
"Maybe I should get some air." Lazily putting on their jacket, they slide the door open and walk out. Footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. It's most likely around 2 in the morning. Passing the medical bay, the only room with all lights still on, they found, by a glance, a pale medic working late clutching her hair facing paperworks in front of her. Warfarin is going to be cranky later during the work hours. They chose to not bother her, and continue their walk. Their destination unclear still, but maybe they'd head to the balcony. They need some air after all.
It has been happening often. Waking up in cold sweat, from a nightmare supposedly. Or a memory. Or a dense void. Yet those left no trace once the Doctor is fully conscious, as if that part of their brain is locked, and they can't access it. A drawback of amnesia, they assumed. But it's hindering their rest, therefore hindering their work. They should find a way to solve this one way or another, even just reducing the headache will do.
Arriving at the balcony, they find a figure leaning forward to the corner of its rail. Silver haired, tall Liberi, seemingly not noticing the presence of the Doctor. A small table near him has a warm beverage on top of it, he must've just arrived as well. It's still steaming with thin clouds against the cold air. Doctor walks closer.
"You're still awake, General?"
The Liberi turns to face the Doctor, a little surprised. His eyes returning the stare with his gentlest gaze, "I am. And I suppose you are too."
"I just woke up, actually, " Doctor laughs. Scratching the back of their head.
Now his face filled with concern. Normally, it wouldn't be visible to just anyone. But the Doctor knows him. They know how those eyes are so brittle to emotions, they aren't as menacing as the others ever describe. They are sharp as to pierce into one's soul, but they offer only warmth for those he trusts.
Taking the Doctor's hand, he leads them to sit around the small table. The warm beverage turns out to be milk. It's a warm milk, maybe he was trying to sleep too. Maybe even when he's awake, he can remember his nightmares. Unlike them, unlike the Doctor. The further they try to dig in, the more questions appear. And sometimes they're too terrifying to answer. What the Doctor knows; Hellagur is clearly facing his fears and old wounds, while they are not. They smile bitterly thinking of this. Why can't they remember at all? What scared the shit out of them? What was it that woke him up? Why is it now they start to despise sleeping as it would mean they'd remember that they have forgotten something?
"You can have the milk, Doctor. Though, I did not add anything sweet into it, but at least it would warm you up," Hellagur sliding the glass across the table. Changing the position of his chair afterwards, so he'd directly face the Doctor. Hoping that he'd hear something from them.
"But you made it for yourself, General, you should sleep too."
"You are too kind, Doctor. But I assure you, I have been keeping my resting schedule in check—as to serve you, my health is important too."
No, he is the one that is too kind. The bitter smile has yet to falter, but it doesn't seem like he's going to take another no as an answer. Doctor takes the glass to their hand, it's warm. Of course it is. They take one sip before asking another question, "How have you been, General? I'm sorry I can't retrieve your reports personally lately."
"That is no matter to apologize for, Doctor, " his eyes turning back to the void that is night, "I have been well. As for the new squad I am currently assigned to, the members are getting along quite well."
Doctor hums, signaling him to continue. It's truly better to spend restless nights—or morning, maybe—like this with a companion.
"Operator Click was not sure if she could control her fear of Felines before, but she is gradually warming up to Sir Anthony's presence. It is quite a drastic change, so I still doubt that she would be able to handle going face to face with Mr. SilverAsh soon."
"Anthony is a polite man. It's just as expected, " they nod.
"At times when we could not get ahold of our squad leader; Miss Hoshiguma, they would draw lots to choose a temporary leader, " he chuckles to this.
"Well, I assigned many young operators to that squad after all."
"This has been a very educating training for me too, Doctor, and you have my gratitude."
The Doctor shakes their head, "You should be thanking them and yourself. I did nothing."
Hellagur doesn't answer. He knows better than anyone, denying the Doctor would do nothing. Now he turns back to them, seeing them straight to the eyes, "Now, how have you been, Doctor?"
Their saliva tastes bitter too now. For some reason they could feel their eyes burning, like something would leak out whether they lie or not. But not now, not now. Hellagur would be too concerned to leave them alone later, they shouldn't break down now. Taking a sip of the warm milk again, they answer, "Nothing much. Just some sleeping problems. Do you have any tips, General?"
To their surprise, Hellagur shifts his chair closer to their side. Taking their free hand into his larger gloved palm. And even through the glove they could feel it, the warmth he's trying to convey. His silver hair brushing his cheeks as the wind rustle through, "Maybe talking it out will help a little." He knows he should respect boundaries. But without a push, Doctor would continue to let the stress pile up. He knows it better than anyone, how unpleasant it feels.
"Problem is, I don't even know what to talk about," Doctor's voice is no louder than a whisper, "there is nothing. I remember nothing."
There is silence. Hands still holding one another. Desperately keeping each of them on their grounds. The warmth now burns, it ignited something in Doctor's chest, it makes them almost choke on air. Their chest tighten. What is it? How is it? How should they talk about this when they remember absolutely nothing?
"General, do you ever wonder if forgetting makes you a terrible person?"
"Doctor, do you think remembering would do you any better?"
Silence falls again between the two. The silence of realization. When one remembers too much it became unbearable, and forgetting would sound like a better option. When one forgot everything, the sins, the memories, the wounds inflicted and the doom they caused, they'd choose to remember so at least they can atone. Neither is good. Neither is better. They're like the opposite sides of one single coin. One remembers. One forgot. And the past catches up to them in different ways; General's past facing him with a bright dripping red, Doctor's past creeping up from the dark dragging black.
"Why are we like this?" Tears finally present on their cheek as they laugh weakly, immediately brushing the water off their face.
"I cannot offer an answer to that, unfortunately, " he smiles, his eyes still dim with sorrow, "the future I see is bleak, and I cannot see any other possibilities—or so I thought. You do not posses the memories to remember what you should atone for, I posses it but I have no way of turning things back to what they should have been. This caused us to see no further than what to do later tomorrow."
The Doctor sniffs. Realizing the company of his is really calming. His voice wise and gentle. Even though a blanket in a snowstorm would do little to nothing, but it's better than not having any blanket at all. Like how his presence offers no merit not answer to their questions, but it's better than not having anyone to sit by and listen at least.
"But you know, Doctor. I learnt something too, from Operator Click, " he continues, "that it is alright to simply wait for tomorrow. We wouldn't know if our supplies would run out years from now on. But tomorrow we'd still be able to eat sweets from the cafeteria."
"Haha.. well, that doesn't answer anything. But, good to know."
Hellagur smiles. Pulling the Doctor closer so he could wrap his arm around their body. The Doctor sniffs some more before then they laugh again for no apparent reason.
They exchange a few more words. A few more sentences. Until purplish vermillion lines appear far at the edge of the horizon. Until the stars fade. Until the milk grew cold. Until the wind no longer sends a shiver down one's spins. Until it's dark no longer. Until then. Until tomorrow they've awaited. With still doubtful hearts, with peace they yearn but couldn't find.
They'd at least remember than they're not alone now.