Rupert swore. Lee kept her eyes on the pie between them. His swearing, at least this time, wasn't something she had to worry about. Instead, it sounded almost like he was coming to a realization he wasn't too happy about.

But a moment later, he continued speaking, telling her about Alice. It was short and didn't really tell Lee a whole lot about Alice, but she couldn't help feeling grateful for what little the man was saying. Grateful, and yet the tears were still coming more heavily to her eyes.

Lee wasn't sure whether what Rupert was telling her was actually helping or not. Yes, she was grateful for what he could tell her about Alice, it was painful having the feelings for the little girl yet not remembering a thing about her, and it was just too hard talking to Tarin about her at times. But, while she was grateful, it was also incredibly hard, and it hurt.

Rupert went on, though. And as he spoke, Lee finally looked back up at him, the tears still standing in her eyes. He was obviously uncomfortable, that much was more than clear from his expression, and yet he kept talking, kept explaining.

"It's an amazing feeling, isn't it?" Lee asked, her voice soft, before she knew the words were even coming out of her mouth. "Holding your child for the first time?" Once her mind caught up with her mouth, Lee's lips snapped shut. How the hell would she know that? She'd never had a kid, the closest she'd come was that dream, and she couldn't actually remember anything.

But there were feelings there, feelings she didn't think should belong to this current time and situation, and Lee frowned as she tried to sort them out. "We were happy for you," Lee finally said, that little frown still on her face. "Nervous, waiting to hear, but happy. And Alice was beside herself with excitement."

That was maybe one of the strangest parts; Lee couldn't actually remember things, couldn't even remember Alice's face, yet she knew things like this, knew how excited Alice had been about Rupert's kid being born. And she didn't know how to explain it, or what to make of it.

Then Lee looked back up at Rupert, the frown disappearing to be replaced with a look of sympathy and understanding. "And now," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Even though you know it wasn't real, couldn't have been real, it's like there's something missing in your life now, something immensely important, and you almost don't know what to do without it." Well, that was how Lee felt, at least at times, since waking up from that dream.

“Then I woke up,” he finished, “and I was back to being... this.”

Lee took a breath as she looked across at the man on the other side of the counter. He really sounded upset about what he'd found himself as when he'd woken up. It was a man whom Lee had, unfortunately, gotten to know, but a man who Rupert suddenly didn't seem to like.

Lee just stood there for a few moments, even after Rupert had asked about having a slice of the pie. He really did seem changed, didn't he?

"Maybe," Lee said, her voice a bit louder than it had been the last couple times she had spoken, but her words still slow, thoughtful. "Maybe we had this dream for a reason. Maybe you're supposed to be more like you were in the dream than you are now. And I've been terrified of the idea of having a kid since I was 15. Tarin keeps trying to convince me that there won't be any problems, that everything will be fine when that happens."

Lee had to stop for a moment to swallow the panic that was welling up at even the thought of possibly having a child. But it wasn't quite as strong this time, or so it seemed, and Lee felt another, unidentifiable emotion mixed in there too. "Alice was alright, right?" She asked, concerned. "Healthy, no problems?"

Taking another breath, Lee nodded then. "Yeah, pie sounds good. I think we still have some dishes in the back."

>> "It's an amazing feeling, isn't it? Holding your child for the first time? ...We were happy for you. Nervous, waiting to hear, but happy. And Alice was beside herself with excitement."

For the first time since he’d set foot in the medium’s shop, an honest smile spread across Rupert’s face. “It is,” he said softly, remembering those last few moments of the dream; before everything had crumbled, and he’d woken up. Looking down on that baby... it had been crying, its face screwed up in a little angry fist of emotion. It got that from its daddy.

>> “Maybe... Maybe we had this dream for a reason. Maybe you're supposed to be more like you were in the dream than you are now. And I've been terrified of the idea of having a kid since I was 15. Tarin keeps trying to convince me that there won't be any problems, that everything will be fine when that happens."

Rupert ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he agreed, “maybe.” The pie sat on the counter, mocking him. Yeah: maybe he wasn’t supposed to be a self-appointed mutant executioner. So here was a fresh bakery treat to heal over all those times he’d pistol-whipped her husband. And tied him to a chair. And wrestled him to the floor.

Yeah. Maybe he was supposed to be a better man than this.

>> "Alice was alright, right? Healthy, no problems?"

“Yeah,” Rupert replied, with distinctly more conviction. His hand dropped back to his side. “Completely. Except—” his brows furrowed briefly; “—towards the end of the dream, there was something bad. I think she was in a hospital for a few days.” The details were a little fuzzy on that. It didn’t really seem like a hospital... maybe a private clinic? The name ‘DocProf’ came to mind, but that was clearly just a smashing together of other titles in the dream. Who was named DocProf? “She recovered, though,” he hurried to reply. “I definitely remember taking her to church, after she got better. It was something like the flu—a nasty one.”

>> "Yeah, pie sounds good. I think we still have some dishes in the back."

Rupert nodded amiably. Serving pie: a nice, wholesome busy-work task that they could do without talking. Or thinking. Suddenly, Rupert had a craving for a teacup of scotch.

This dream really had been something, Lee couldn't help but think as she looked across the counter at Rupert. The man was actually smiling. Not one of those sarcastic, or hateful smiles he often had, but a real, true smile.

Lee was sure that she had never seen anything even closely resembling this on Rupert's face before that moment, and yet it wasn't as shocking or as surprising as it should have been. Though, Lee didn't know if this was another of those things she was feeling without knowing the reason because of that dream, or if it was because she had been through too much strangeness with Rupert here already.

He didn't even deny her idea that maybe the dream was meant to show them pieces of how their lives should be.

It had really effected him, Lee realized.

Alice had been healthy. Lee almost couldn't stop the sigh of relief at that, even though the girl wasn't even real. Sure, Tarin had said the same thing, but there just seemed to be more certainty in that fact hearing it come from Rupert's lips; he wouldn't sugarcoat things to keep her from panicking, after all.

Except. That one word made Lee's eyes shoot up to Rupert, her breath caught in her throat. It didn't matter that Alice wasn't real, there was an exception.

An exception which Rupert quickly explained that Alice had recovered from, saying it had been like some sort of bad flu. Lee's breath rushed out in a relieved sigh as she stepped slightly around the counter without thought, her eyes closed. "Oh thank goodness," she breathed, her arms wrapping around Rupert in a hug before she even knew what she was doing, her head able to rest nice and comfortably against his shoulder because of their height difference.

There were arms around him, with alarming suddenness. One moment he was wondering what liquor Tarin had stashed in the back, and the next—

Lee was on him.

Her arms were wrapping around him. And he found his own wrapping back, settling against her lower back gently.

It was awkward at first: very awkward. There was something comforting to it, though. He let himself relax into her arms. Her head tucked against his shoulder like it had been made to go there; his hazel eyes slipped shut. Yeah, she was a freak. Yes, her power worked better the closer she got. But this—this felt nice. Was it so wrong to just let himself feel like a decent human being? He could go back to hating the world later. After she let go.

An errand was supposed to be something simple, something that you slipped out and did very quickly before returning to the other, more important things. Errands like running to the post office. They’d taken a little too long to fill out the inventory order for the next week and Tarin had nearly ran from the shop to make it before the place closed. He’d made it in time, in time to stand in what had to be the longest line in the history of lines.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered as he skidded to a stop behind the woman in front of him, the woman who apparently felt like turning to glare at him. Tarin glared back, they were all supposed to be in this together, weren’t they? The woman was a traitor to the cause.

It took 20 minutes…twen-ty minutes…to get through the line. Tarin had spent the first ten staring at the clock and wondering f they were going to bar the doors when it reached closing time. If that would have happened…well Tarin didn’t know what he’d have done. It would have involved a lot of cursing and pouting though. Why hadn’t he just bought stamps ahead of time? Finally, though, after Mrs. Snarly McSnarlson had spent 10 minutes arguing that her scale put her package at .2 lbs. lighter than the post office’s, Tarin bought his stamp and mailed his inventory order. Then it was back to the shop, another 10 minute walk. They were closing shop the second he could get everything put away. The last thing Tarin wanted was to see another customer.

Down the street the medium walked, fighting the urge to snarl at anyone and everyone he passed. The post office did that to people. Up to the door of his shop he walked, through the portal…and stopped dead in his tracks.

Things that would have surprised Tarin less than what he saw in the front of the shop were as follows. A real life alien, a table full of dogs really playing poker, and that yeti thing from Empire Strikes Back. As it were, the first thing Tarin realized was that Rupert had his arms wrapped around Tarin’s wife…the second thing he realized was that Lee was weepy. That bastard that bastard hadn’t been satisfied by nearly killing Tarin, he’d come back to hurt Lee.

Tarin was moving forward before he even really knew what he was doing, grabbing the other man by the shoulder of his shirt and ripping him away from Lee, “You son of a bitch get your hands off her!” He snarled swinging his right fist in a hard arc towards Rupert’s face even as he cursed. After a post office trip like that, some things simply could not be tolerated. This was one of them.

Lee hadn't really realized what she was doing until after her arms were already around Rupert. Still, what she had done wasn't even half as surprising as Rupert's reaction.

Lee would have expected him to shove her away, to start yelling at her, something. Instead, the man simply wrapped his arms around her in return, his arms resting around her waist. She even thought that she could feel him starting to relax. That on its own would have been enough of a surprise, but Rupert was actually standing there, returning the hug of someone he knew to be a mutant.

And then Lee heard the bell over the door chime as someone entered the shop. Before she could wipe the remaining tears from her eyes to face the customer, before she could even step away from Rupert, Lee heard Tarin's voice. Tarin's very angry voice.

Followed almost immediately by the feeling of Rupert being pulled away from her.

Then Lee saw Tarin's fist moving through the air. Her eyes widened, the tears which hadn't yet been wiped away still standing on her cheeks.

"Tarin!" Lee exclaimed, though she knew that it would be too late to stop him. What the hell was he doing?

A bell chimed at the front door. Then, all at once, Rupert was reminded of just who and what he was. He wasn’t a good man. He wasn’t allowed to just stand here, returning a mutie’s heart-warming little hug. This hug? This was a fluke. It wasn’t something he deserved.

The hand on his shoulder, tearing him away from Lee: that was more like it.

>> “You son of a bitch get your hands off her!”

The fist to his face was just the universe’s little judgment, from Tarin’s knuckles to his skull: this was a crap idea.

He fell backwards, just barely catching himself against the counter, and coming dangerously close to knocking the pie box off of it. His hand rose instinctively, rubbing at his jaw.

“Nice to see you, too,” he growled.

His fist connected and Rupert stumbled backwards against the counter. Tarin’s knuckles burned where they’d made contact with the ex-cop’s face, but the satisfaction in the action was pretty much worth it. Tarin was ready to advance, even if the murderous red haze covering his eyes was difficult to see through. He’d been in this situation before, and he was already on the defensive, legs spread wide ready for the other man’s charge. Only, it didn’t come.

Rupert wasn’t moving, in fact, it didn’t even look like the man was armed. He was just rubbing his jaw and making a smart comment. Uncharacteristic. If anything, Tarin was more suspicious. Still on the defensive, Tarin stared Rupert down, eyes narrowed and breathing heavy from the adrenaline that was still coursing through him.

Chancing a quick look at Lee, Tarin noticed her wet face, her slightly smudged make up and something else. Lee had been touching Rupert when he walked into the room…Lee had been touching him and the man was still standing. That meant she hadn’t been trying.

As the initial rage subsided, Tarin’s body relaxed slightly, even if his eyes were still narrowed and fixed on Rupert as the other man stood rubbing his jaw. “Someone had better start explaining.” He said, voice still tight with rage, fists clenched at his side.

"What the hell Tarin?!" Lee exclaimed after she saw Tarin's fist meet with Rupert's face. She was shocked, she was upset about how Tarin was acting.

And yet, there was a definite part of Lee that completely understood where Tarin was coming from and why he was doing this.

Still, Lee took a step, placing herself between her husband and the man he had just decked. "I know it's hard to believe," she started, looking over at Tarin. "He came to apologize, and I think he actually means it, Tarin. He brought a pie, and came to apologize to you."

Then Lee's eyes dropped, her voice growing quieter. "Did you know he was Alice's Godfather?" She asked, still slightly marvelling at how in the world that would have possibly come to be.

>> “Someone had better start explaining.”

Rupert let his hand drop back to his side, slowly straightening. No need to set that tattooed pit bull there off. Something seemed different between this Tarin, and the Tarin Rupert had last seen. Besides the obvious: this one wasn’t duct taped to a gravestone. No, something in the way the man was holding himself; his fists at his side, ready to fight back. He seemed confident, and not about to lie down like a good little doormat. One of Rupert’s eyebrows slowly rose.

“When the hell did you grow a spine?”

>> "I know it's hard to believe,"

Lee started, in perfect timing to Rupert’s last question. The part where she slipped herself between the two of them was probably a good idea.

>> "He came to apologize, and I think he actually means it, Tarin. He brought a pie, and came to apologize to you."

When she put it that way, the pie sounded even more ridiculous. He self-coconsciously pulled the box a little more securely onto the counter; one of his elbows had almost knocked it off, when Tarin proved he had the balls to attack first for once.

>> "Did you know he was Alice's Godfather?"

Rupert had sunk into his usual snarky frown. Something about the Medium’s face just seemed to inspire it. At that, though, he glanced to Lee; the frown gave way to honest surprise.

“Tarin dreamed about her, too?”

Rupert had the gall to ask him when he’d grown a spine. Tarin’s lip curled into the kind of snarl that used to look so at home on Rupert’s face. “If growing a spine means finally realizing that with you I need to swing first and ask questions later, about the same time you sucker punched me on Valentine’s Day. I could ask you the same thing, though, where’s your gun and your god given vigilante mission?” The medium grated out in a tone to match the look on his face and Tarin took a half step forward, just in time to watch Lee effectively place herself in the line of fire. Lee, his wife, who’d sat by his side for the month that he was in a coma that Rupert was responsible for, was protecting the man. Tarin stopped his advance, if Lee had decided Tarin was done pummeling Rupert’s face…he was done.

Then she was talking, and her explanation was nearly as hard to believe as the fact that Rupert was standing there in the front of the shop. The man was there to apologize? Tarin felt his eye twitch, actually twitch, at that revelation. How many chances had Tarin given Rupert to let everything go? Hell, how many times had Tarin openly offered to simply roll over for the man, and now he wanted to apologize. Make amends? Tarin’s teeth ground together so hard it hurt and he peeked around Lee’s shoulder, confirming the presence of a pie box, but absolutely refusing to look at the other man’s face.

Lee kept talking, and she couldn’t have floored Tarin more effectively with a pistol to the back of the head. Something clicked when Lee spoke and Tarin’s jaw slackened slightly in shock. No, he hadn’t remembered that Rupert was Alice’s father…until Lee said the words.

It was still vague, quite vague, but Tarin could remember arguments with Rupert about church, about vacations to Texas, about…

“He’d take her when I wasn’t safe…” Tarin almost whispered, hands unclenching as he stared down at Lee’s downcast eyes. “How do I know all these things…” he added, a hand running unconsciously through his hair.

Rupert spoke again, this time managing not to insult Tarin for more than three words and for some reason, it made the medium a little more apt to listen. Oh, he’d been talking to Lee, that explained the lack of insult.

Rupert had dreamed about Alice too? That didn’t even make sense…except that he had been Alice’s godfather. As surely as Alice had existed, Rupert had been her godfather…and he knew it.
“Incredible how well adjusted she was, wasn’t it?” he said softly, standing up straight and looking of Lee’s shoulder at Rupert, “Always getting dragged around like she was.” Tarin scowled at that, he hadn’t remembered how unstable his powers had been in the future.

Adrenaline was fading and all that was left in its wake was a slightly sick rolling in Tarin’s stomach. His mouth twisted again in slightly bitter response to the feeling, it was strange knowing what it felt like to hate yourself like that.

“I need drink…and apparently we need to talk.” He said, then without further preamble made his way to the back of the shop and started rummaging around for the appropriate cups and bottle. Soon enough they were produced and two tea cups and a bottle of scotch clinked onto the table in the back of the shop. Proprieties had to be observed, after all. Apparently this was a formal social call.

“What was that Lee said about an apology?” Tarin said, tipping a liberal swig of the Scotch into his glass and downing it before anything else was said.

The moment that she heard Rupert speak, Lee glared over her shoulder at him. Here she was, trying to get Tarin to not attack him again, and he had to make comments like that? Didn't he know any better?

Apparently her mention that Rupert had been Alice's Godfather had been the turning point in this situation. The anger seemed to leave Tarin, though he still wasn't necessarily looking all that happy.

And then he was talking again. Both of these men seemed to have more actual memories, if they could be called that, than she did. She didn't really remember anything about Alice. But hearing what Tarin was saying, seeing what Rupert's face had looked like when he'd been talking about the girl, maybe that was the reason he'd been her Godfather, because they could be sure he'd take care of her and make sure she was safe, if needed.

Tarin needed a drink, did he? As she watched her husband walking into the back of the shop, Lee couldn't help but think that she could use a drink, too.

But first, they needed to make sure that no other customers wandered in. Stepping over to the door, Lee flicked the lock, then shut the blinds quickly before turning back to Rupert. "He's probably got the Scotch out by now," she informed him. "Better get back there if you don't want him to drink it all." Not that Tarin normally would, but they had had a very strange time lately, and Rupert being there was only adding to that.

Stepping back to the counter to grab the pie box, Lee made her own way into the back room to find that, sure enough, Tarin was there with the bottle of Scotch and a couple of tea cups.

Setting the pie down next to the bottle, Lee shook her head as she watched Tarin downing his glass of Scotch after he'd asked Rupert about that apology. Was it really that much that he needed to drink like that? Well, ok, maybe it was since it was an apology from Rupert, but still.

They really needed to start keeping something to drink that Lee was willing to share.

>> “He’d take her when I wasn’t safe…”

Something about that struck a chord in Rupert, though the details remained blurry; half-forgotten memories of phone calls at all hours of the day and reckless driving to get there just a few seconds faster came to mind.

>> “Incredible how well adjusted she was, wasn’t it? Always getting dragged around like she was.”

“Yeah,” Rupert agreed reluctantly, simply on principle. When was the last time he’d agreed with this man? Probably back during the Registration Act, when they’d both pointed out to a solar manipulator how idiotic it was to wheel around the Stalker-infested streets on rollerblades, glowing. “She probably would have started questioning it when she got older, but at that age...” Rupert ran a hand through his hair, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to grasp at the details of the dream. “I think... we bought a pull-out couch for the living room, and let her pick the sheets. And we had this little desk for her art supplies...”

>> “I need drink…and apparently we need to talk.”

“Yeah.” Two agreements in as many minutes. Rupert was appalled, too.

He hesitantly trailed behind with Lee as she locked up the shop. Somehow, she seemed the safer of the two to be alone with. The last few times he and Tarin had been alone, one of them had always ended up tied to something. It wasn’t the best track record, even if you ignored the half-swollen eyes, concussions, and comas. Only when Lee started towards the back room did he pick up his pie, and follow her in.

The scotch was waiting. Teacups and all.

“Well that’s nostalgic,” Rupert smirked, setting the pie down to pick one up. It was halfway to his lips. Then Tarin spoke.

>> “What was that Lee said about an apology?”

The cup paused for a moment. Then it finished its arc, and tipped back, along with his head. Three very full swallows followed. For once in his life, Rupert didn’t cough. He just violently clicked the teacup back down onto the table, and met the man’s eyes while his throat was still burning.

“I’m sorry. About the graveyard, about Valentine’s. I... obviously, I didn’t really want you dead.” Obviously, since the man wouldn’t be alive if something in Rupert hadn’t stopped him. Rupert knew he could kill: he’d done it before, plenty of times. Cold blood? Not really an issue. Just looked at that lioness he’d put down. Hell, she hadn’t even been facing him. “So I shouldn’t have... kept...” Trying to kill you.

Awkward.

Trailing.

Off.

“****,” Rupert heartily intoned. “I’m going to need a refill, Medium.” He really was a changed man: that was ‘Medium’, not ‘mutie’, or ‘freak’. Go on, Tarin. Pour, patsy. Pour.

Tarin had a feeling as he recalled the memories of Alice that Rupert knew exactly what he was talking about. It was obvious in Rupert’s face that he remembered the times he’d come. They’d always had a bag packed with clothes, a toothbrush, her favorite toys. It had been like the end of Lee’s pregnancy, ready to go at the drop of a hat. Tarin swallowed hard at that memory and looked at Lee as Rupert explained how Alice had gotten to pick out sheets on a pull-out. Good god, there was no way that this was a simple dream. Not if all of them remembered the same things, it gave Tarin chills.

Scotch did a lot to banish chills, though, Tarin thought as Rupert and Lee joined him in the back of the shop and he refilled his glass. Rupert seemed to need the reinforcement too and downed his glass nearly as quickly as Tarin had his. Then the man started speaking. For ****’s sake…he was actually going to apologize.

Tarin sank down into one of the chairs at the table and with no little discomfort met Rupert’s eyes as he spoke, nodding a little mutely in acceptance of the words. Rupert meant it, and Tarin’s eyebrows drew together as he frowned slightly. He kept right on nodding though. Obviously Rupert hadn’t really wanted him dead. Three times, three times he’d had the chance to do it and he’d balked every time. It begged a simple question, though, one that Tarin wanted to ask with every fiber of his being. Why?.

Tarin didn’t ask though, looking at Rupert and judging by the way he’d acted since Tarin had entered the shop, this was already costing him a lot. On a personal level, it was costing Rupert a lot. If he thought Tarin needed an explanation, that was going to have to be enough, the medium thought with mild surprise. He’d been so angry…so furious with Rupert, he’d spent time thinking about what he was going to do when they finally ran into each other again. It had all disappeared when Rupert had mentioned Alice.

Rupert spoke, and Tarin’s head jerked back towards the scotch and the tea cups. “Yeah…and thank you for that.” he said, reaching across the table and pouring Rupert another full cup then setting the bottle down on the table. “You’d better sit down.”

It was quiet for a few moments, as Tarin drank more scotch and looked across the table in speculation at Rupert, “You took her to church every week.” He said, trying to corroborate more of the story, just to prove to himself he wasn’t nuts, “And you were mad when we took her out of town and she couldn’t go. You said she would have started asking questions when she got older…but she’d already asked me if the Holy Ghost was the same as the spirits I could see.”

Tarin shook his head, “I’m not nuts…and it’s you proving it.” He said, then took another gulp of the amber liquid, almost enjoying the burning path it took down his throat. That meant that this was real…not another dream.

Lee simply stood back, listening, as the two men spoke, a couple tears coming to her eyes again. Here they were, talking, actually agreeing with each other. But more than that, they were talking about Alice, all these memories and details that she didn't have for whatever reason. A couple tears, but they didn't fall this time, and Lee was able to blink them away by the time they were moving to head into the back for Scotch.

Tarin was sitting, a tea cup of Scotch in his one hand. A tea cup? Really...if he was going to insist on drinking that stuff here, they were going to have to get some proper glasses for it. It's not like they couldn't afford to go out and get some, after all.

And Rupert was standing a little too close to the only other chair in the back room for her to comfortably go sit in it. Well, she did tend to pace quite often when these two were together.

Then things got even stranger. Rupert had said that he was here to apologize, but now he actually was, was actually saying he was sorry for all that stuff he'd done that had put Tarin in a coma.

Yeah, Lee was pacing. She was pacing because hearing about what the man had done to her husband, she wanted to lash out at him, but the fact that he was actually apologizing was far too significant, and would probably never happen again for the rest of eternity, for her to risk his current mood because she lashed out. So Lee bit her tongue and paced back and forth in front of the table as Tarin poured more Scotch.

It was silent in the room after the bottle clinked back onto the table, quiet other than the tap of her heels against the wooden floor. But even to her, the click-click-clicking was annoying, so Lee made her way over to the little counter and leaned against it. At least she wasn't pacing any more.

Just in time to heard Tarin talking about Alice again. Or, more specifically, Alice and Rupert. He apparently took her to church every week. As well as coming to get her any time they were having issues with Tarin's merging. And Rupert had a pull out couch, and a little desk for Alice at his place?

There were just too many things, too many similarities for this to have been a dream. But how could it have been real? Alice wasn't real. Lee had never had a child, had never been pregnant. And until he had shown up there that day, there was no way that Lee would have even considered Rupert to be a Godfather even if she had had a kid.

She needed to sit, there were no chairs and Lee needed to sit. The counter would have to do. Reaching her arms back behind her, Lee hopped up onto the counter, then crossed her left leg over her right as she looked at the men sitting at the table.

"But if it's not just a dream of yours I walked into," Lee said slowly after a couple seconds. "How come I can't actually remember any of it? And why," she continued, her voice dropping. "If I can't remember, do I keep having these moments of almost panic because I don't know where she is?"