The BLTS Archive - Vergessen by nostalgia (thehappinesspatrol@hotmail.com) --- Disclaim: Paramount own these people. But they treat them like crap. No wonder they spend so much time with me. Feedback: Feel free. Archive: If you really want it, sure. Etc: There's a bit of Nehal in here, a bit of Ananke, a bit of Doctor Who. The rest? Probably the Venlafaxine. This one is for Dawn, who let me weep upon her virtual shoulder. --- My name is Hoshi Sato. This is as much as I can remember. Someone put me here, I think, and took away the rest of it. I feel like I shouldn't even know my name. Sometimes, at night, I talk to myself in strange languages. Malcolm tells me this, and each time I think he's about to remember something. I know that I knew him before this, maybe not as well as I do now. I don't know if we were lovers. I don't know if it matters if we were. What I do know, is that I'm as happy as I can be, given the circumstances. And whatever happened before (I have memories of stars, all gleaming and frozen), I am content to be alive, to be here. (Stars and strange languages. What kind of woman was I, before this?) I know that we can't have been here forever, but there's a darkness when I look too far back. Maybe I wanted to forget. Perhaps I did something terrible. Today we decided to celebrate something. Just anything, it didn't matter. So Malcolm skinned a rabbit (I don't think they're rabbits, it's just what we call them. What was a rabbit?) and I built the biggest fire I've ever seen (I think). Malcolm can remember a story about people living in paradise, a world like this one, with flowers and animals and trees. He doesn't remember how it ends, but he says it probably had a happy ending. That's always the way with stories, isn't it? But in the story they were the only two people in the entire world. I know that this isn't possible, but where are all the other people? I feel like there should be people. Sometimes I can almost see them, in my mind. Once I thought I heard a woman call my name. Her voice was soft and quiet and I wanted to be near her. I trusted that almost-person. There are words on the metal near our cave, but the letters are scorched and I can't read them. Something terrible must have happened. When I look at it, I shiver. Does the metal remember things I've forgotten? I'm a little scared of what it might know. Last night there was a new star. It sat there, steady and silent, just between the moons. It was so, so bright and I thought it might be a comet. I remember comets, and the way they move. They always face towards the sun. The star moved away after a while, so it can't have been a real star. Malcolm said it might be people, but that's just stupid. People can't live in stars. How would they breathe? --- We saw the star again this morning. It's been a lot brighter since it came back, like it's nearer. Malcolm wanted to light a fire to signal to it, and I helped because I wasn't busy, and it can't do any harm. I have delusions of my own, sometimes, and I'd like to think he'd humour me too, if I wanted to talk to the trees or write a letter to the wind. Part of me thinks that I should only focus on what's real, on what we have now. It's the part that worries that I did something wrong, the part that makes my stomach move around and my heart feel like a rock. It hurts. But we built the fire, and we lit it with a spark. I remember being somewhere very, very bright, full of dust. And there were dead trees and a man who showed me how to make them start a fire. I think I was young, my hair was longer. I cut my hair short about a month ago, with a knife and a lot of anger. I don't remember why I did it, but now my hair doesn't get in my eyes. I almost cut myself with the blade, and Malcolm kept running his fingers through it, like he couldn't quite believe I'd done it. I think that was the first time he kissed me. The first time I remember, anyway, so the first time it was real. The fire's still burning, but the star hasn't said anything yet. It was something he needed to do. I'm glad he did it. --- I think I heard that voice again last night, the woman that I almost knew. It didn't sound the same, it was like she was far away and whispering. I went outside, but it was dark and cold and I couldn't see anything. Mostly, I dream of running. --- There's someone else here now, a man. He came back from the hunt with Malcolm. I'm scared though, I don't want to know who he is. He might remember me. They're sitting outside, by the fire, and I know that Malcolm will keep me safe. There's a woman coming too, walking through the forest. I hope she knows how to deal with the rabbits and the tigers. I don't want her to get hurt. I'll have to talk to these new people, and I know that I can't hide forever. Maybe they'll just take me, drag me back to wherever they came from. I remembered something, earlier. I remembered being someplace warm, where there was no wind and the sun never came up. It was always light, and there were stars. Who am I? --- He's called Trip and her name is T'Pol. They know me, and they say that they've been worried. Trip looks like he's been crying a lot, but I can't tell what she's thinking. We used to live with these people, and lots of others, and we travelled between the stars on a ship called Enterprise. I'm supposed to remember that I loved Trip, but he hasn't said anything about it. Sometimes I just know things, like memory without the detail. They all thought that we were dead, but the metal (it was a ship, too) talked to them and told them where to find us. All of it is true, but I still don't remember any of it. T'Pol says that I'm pregnant, and that we should go back to the ship. She says that it's safer, that we can't survive out here. I know that she's lying about that last part, but I know I didn't bleed last month. She knows a lot of things, and I should listen to her. She wants us to be safe. Trip went away. I don't think he wanted to be near me anymore. It's not my fault I don't remember. It's not my fault I'm happy. --- They left this morning, but they gave us some food and some water. T'Pol gave us a piece of metal and told us that we could use it to bring them back, if we wanted to go home. I told her that we're already home, and I think she almost smiled. I hope that they'll forget about us, that they'll stop worrying. I'm glad I don't remember enough to miss them. But maybe we'll remember before they forget, and we'll use T'Pol's piece of metal and go back to the stars. Maybe we'll wake up tomorrow and we'll know everything that we're supposed to, and this won't seem like home anymore. We could become the people we used to be, and go back to those other lives. Maybe we'll remember. I hope that never happens. --- The End