Chapter Text
Branches crackle beneath her feet and the wind is screaming in her ears. It’s almost unbearable. She can hardly register the shadowy outline in front of her. It’s dark, and the trees barricade any minimal moonlight sneaking through the harsh elements of the Wyldness.
It’s insufferably awkward between them. They’ve hardly breached past mandatory small talk. They’ve reached something of an agreement—mostly on his end—they don’t talk to each other unless it’s absolutely necessary. But Nya’s certain if he gets any further away from her she’ll lose him.
She won’t lose him again.
“Jay—” she notices him stop walking and stiffen, and she immediately winces and corrects her mistake, “ Rogue. Sorry.”
Slowly, he turns on his heel, and she can’t see the vibrant red glow of his goggles through the dead of the night. “What, Lady.”
Nya swallows the lump in her throat and decidedly doesn’t comment on that. “I… Um… Do you think you could slow down a bit? My leg is…” she gestures vaguely at the mentioned ankle, wrapped up in bloodied bandages.
She barely makes out the outline of what she assumes is his shoulders relaxing. It’s nice to know he still softens a bit at her injuries.
Wordlessly, he walks over to her with an unfair amount of ease. His goggles have night vision. He invented them himself, Nya thinks. After years of being his engineering partner, she’d recognize his designs anywhere.
Or maybe she doesn’t at all, and Nya’s completely lost touch with her Yang. But that’s too terrifying for Nya to even entertain.
There’s a click, and the warm red glow of the lantern flicks on. He sits her down on a nearby rock and leans in front of her, carefully unwrapping her foot.
“It’s fine,” Nya starts, guilt pooling in her stomach and weighing heavy like a boulder.
She never used to feel so guilty asking for Jay’s time.
“We need to save the battery, right?” She nods towards the lantern, but Jay’s gaze stays laser focused on her leg. “Don’t waste it. Just slow down a bit and I’ll be—”
“It’s fine.” He interrupts, and his voice is sharp and curt and so deep. She doesn’t even recognize it anymore.
Or maybe, after five years apart, she just completely forgot the sound of her Yang’s voice.
She shakes that thought away just as Jay tugs his mask and goggles down and meets her gaze.
It’s weird. He still looks like Jay. He has the same warm, tanned skin. The same adorable freckles Nya loves to trace like constellations scattered across his face, scrunched up as his expression pulls into a scowl. The same bright, breathtaking eyes—one a deep, rich cinnamon brown, and the other a vibrant sapphire blue. Their gentle, loving gaze is replaced by a cold stare that leaves a bitter taste in Nya’s mouth. His hair is still the dark and fluffy mess Nya loves running her hands through. Though, now it’s pulled into a loose ponytail and it looks undeniably good but so different. His skin is covered in all the battle scars Nya’s grown familiar with, plus quite a few new ones. Most notably electricity scars around his hands and arms.
Nya remembers when they had first begun training with their elemental powers, they all garnered quite a few scars at their own hands. Specifically Jay and Kai, since their powers were harder to control. Overtime, Jay had plenty of lightning scars from his hands, down his arms and extending all the way to his torso. Of course, eventually, they all got used to using their powers, and no longer got self-inflicted scars.
Still, Nya couldn’t help but notice how many more lightning scars Jay has now. She’s held those hands enough times to know those weren’t there before.
Nya figures that after Jay lost his memories, he had to relearn how to use his powers. She wants to ask him about it but she knows he doesn’t trust her like that. Not anymore.
“It’s better we run out of battery than you die from infection,” Jay’s voice—now so low and gravelly—pulls her from her thoughts. The intensity in which those eyes that she adores more than anything in the world look back up at her has her weak in the knees.
It’s laughable, really. Jay’s lost his memories and wants absolutely nothing to do with her, and yet he still gives her butterflies.
She’s so dazed any trace of rationality is winded out of her, so she simply watches in silence as he tends to the wound.
The sheer focus he puts into it is dizzying. Nya can’t imagine a life in which she isn’t utterly enamoured by this boy.
And, sure, maybe they have this stupid no small talk rule, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try. Their love is stubborn enough that Nya won’t give him up without a fight.
“Where did you learn all this medical crap?” She watches Jay disinfect the wound and hopes she sounds at least a little casual. At his quick glare, she scrambles to assure, “It’s super helpful!”
He won’t look at her, but after a beat of silence he answers—it’s progress. “I dunno. I just kind of… Do. I’m guessing I learnt it…” he falters, and his hands hover for a second, “...Before.”
And she knows what he means. She knows all too well. Before . Before Jay lost his memories and subsequently every aspect of his identity.
From what she’s gathered in the past two days, he doesn’t like talking about before. And Nya doesn’t blame him.
She doesn’t either. It’s too painful.
“You were always a great medic,” Nya says, and she notices Jay tense up. “You used to always tend to everyone after missions.”
She can’t help but smile—she misses that version of him dearly. The Jay that cared about her. She futilely hopes it may jog his memory, but, expectantly, Jay ignores her completely and stands up just as he finishes wrapping the bandages.
He tugs his mask back up and his eyes are so distant and foreign and Nya hates it.
Because, possibly, the worst part about all of this, aside from losing the love of her life, is that Jay refuses to believe her. Refuses to believe that they were ever anything more than strangers . As if just looking at him doesn’t break Nya’s heart.
“We should get a move on.” Jay breaks a branch off a tree and hands it to her, “use this as a crutch.”
“Right.”
The lantern flickers off and once again they’re encased in darkness.
Nya doesn’t quite know how she and Jay ended up here—working together traversing through the Wyldness to find the final prismatic blade. All she knows is one minute she and Kai are running into him at a pawn shop in Stiix, and the next he’s agreeing to help them find the blade and stop the Forbidden Five.
She doesn’t even know why he wants to help them stop the Forbidden Five. She wants to ask him—there are so many things she wants to ask him.
One wrong step, and she puts a tad too much pressure on her injured foot. She stumbles and yelps but manages to catch herself just in time. Her foot’s throbbing—a full day of walking has done its healing no favours.
She winces and crumples a bit. Jay, two feet in front of her, halts.
“...Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine, just—” she cuts herself off with a cry that definitely disproves her point.
“You’re too hurt to walk. You can’t be putting that much pressure on it.” He still won’t turn around and look at her. Nya feels so small.
“I know, but if we wanna make it—”
“You need help,” and, before she can even process it, Jay’s at her side, slinging her arm around his shoulder.
Nya wants to argue, but the relief on her foot is undeniable, and rejecting it would be a betrayal to her body. “...Thank you.”
Jay grunts. “Can’t have you slowing us down.”
She lets herself lean against him and enjoy the warmth she’s missed for five years.
At some point, his hand slides to hers. It stays there the rest of the night, and it’s as sweet as it is sickening.
~~~
Four days in the Wyldness and Nya is beginning to feel the effects of the elements.
Her stamina is weaker, she’s exhausted, starving, and the company is harrowing to her mental health, to say the least.
She’s cleaning out her wound in the lake they’ve stopped at when Jay finishes his bath—if you can even call it that—and approaches her.
Slowly, he splashes water over his face as he walks out of the lake, lazily throwing on his boxers before stepping in front of her.
“Hello, Lady.”
Nya cringes. She’s not 100% sure he even knows her name, but she doesn’t like dwelling on that.
“Hi, Rogue.” The name is still bitter on her tongue.
“Can I sit?”
Nya notes his posture. Fixed, composed, deliberate. It’s new. Different. The way this new Jay— Rogue —carries himself.
Every new, different thing Nya finds about him, she despises with every fibre of her being. It’s not fair. He’s changing before her eyes and she can do nothing but watch. She’s never felt so helpless.
Or maybe his posture has always been like that. Maybe it's just been so long that Nya’s forgotten how he stands. How did he stand? Can she even remember?
She takes a shaky breath.
“Sure.”
He settles next to her on the soft, sandy grass. It’s not as unbearably hot as it was the first two days—the weather’s almost nice. It’s unfortunate the circumstances aren’t.
Five years ago, before, this would’ve been a perfect date.
Jay plants his arms behind himself and leans back. He closes his eyes with a sigh, basking in the sunlight. He’s still shirtless. Nya tries not to stare—but the way the sun gleams off his freckled shoulders and how the water drips from his hair down his chest has her breathing uneven.
She misses him. Misses his body.
She clears her throat and forces her gaze to the water. His voice saves her from any further embarrassment.
“You should wash up too, it’s refreshing.” He peaks an eye open—the blue one—and grins. “I won’t look.”
Nya stiffens ever so slightly. It’s not fair. Why is it she’s been mourning him for five years and he hadn’t even known she’d existed ? It hurts knowing it wasn’t her he was thinking of on lonely nights since the merge.
Hell. As far as Nya knows, Jay’s been fucking other people. He’s still as stupidly attractive as before, after all.
She drags her eyes down. His abs have softened—a little bit, barely. It’s almost unnoticeable, and Nya would’ve missed it if she didn’t have every curve of his body committed to memory. Probably from years of the Administration and no rigorous daily training. She can see his arms fully now. They’re more muscular, likely thanks to Lord Ras. They’re littered with lightning scars, new and old.
Not for the first time Nya’s grateful for having inherited her mother’s elemental power because, fuck. Those look like they hurt .
“My eyes are up here.”
Nya’s breath catches, and, dreadfully, she glances back up to see Jay staring back down at her with a cheshire grin.
Her face is heating up far too quickly to her liking, and she stammers, “Sorry, I wasn’t—I don’t—You—”
And, to Nya’s utter shock, Jay laughs. Not that condescending scoff she’s grown used to in the past several days, but his real, full, bright laugh.
And holy shit, Nya’s missed that sound. She’d trap it in a jar and display it in a museum if she could. God, it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard and that is an understatement.
She’d forgotten that laugh, forgotten her Yang’s laugh, and she never wants it missing from her life ever again.
“Sorry. Look—” his voice is so sincere and light. For the first time since the merge, Nya’s seeing a glimpse of the man she loves. “That’s kinda what I wanna talk to you about.”
Nya perks up a bit, pushing down her earlier embarrassment. This is the first time Jay’s initiated non business related talk. She’ll take it.
Admittedly, he has seemed marginally more tolerable of her following the events of two nights ago. When he held her hand and subsequently destroyed Nya’s world. She’d figured it was a small step in the right direction, but this is definitive proof; he’s warming up to her.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” He straightens up, picking at the grass below, “I’ve realized. You don't really have any reason to be lying to me anymore. Not since the tournament.”
He avoids her gaze as usual, but Nya holds her breath. She thinks she knows where this is going and it’s hard not to get her hopes up.
“So…?” Nya urges.
“So…” Jay drawls. She hasn’t seen this version of him so vulnerable. “I guess, maybe, I’m beginning to consider the possibility that you’re telling the truth.” He sneaks a glance at her, and she meets his eyes, hidden under his soaked bangs. “That we were… real.”
Nya’s heart stutters. “So you’re saying you believe me now?”
“I said I’m considering the possibility.”
And Nya can’t help the grin splitting her face. It may seem so trivial but it’s progress and it’s one step closer to getting her Jay back.
“Considering the possibility,” she repeats, a tad too dramatically as she lets herself fall back onto the grass. “That’s pretty impressive vocabulary for you.”
Jay groans in that exaggerated way he does, and Nya feels like she’s talking to Jay, not Rogue. “God you are so annoying.” She cackles as he stands up and walks away, “come on. We need to get moving.”
“Are you considering the possibility we’ll be late?”
“Shut up, Lady.”
~~~
“Can I ask you something?”
Jay groans. Loud. “What.”
“It’s a bit personal.”
At that, Jay glances at her. An invitation to continue.
“You’re not gonna argue?”
Jay scoffs. “According to you we were married. I think we’re a bit past the point of personal.” And that emits a snort out of Nya.
“Okay, fair.” They’ve been walking all day. The dirty beneath her feet is damp and her makeshift walking stick sinks into it with every step. Petrichor envelops the air and Nya recalls, with a shaky breath, how Jay always hated the rain. “So, you seriously don’t remember anything at all? Like, not even your favourite colour?”
Jay tenses.
After a good seven seconds of silence, Nya adds, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”
“No,” Jay mutters. It’s almost inaudible. “Not a single thing. I woke up and the only thing I knew was my name.”
Nya swallows. The idea of not recognizing Jay anymore is scary—but the thought that he himself doesn’t even recognize who he is? Downright terrifying. “Do you ever get deja vu? Like, you’ve been somewhere before?”
“There are fleeting moments,” Jay’s gaze is fixed on the path in front of him. He doesn’t look at her often anymore.
His fists clench at his side and beneath the grey skies, he looks paler than normal. “Sometimes, I feel like I lived in a moment before. Distantly. And someone else is missing.”
Nya isn’t quite sure how, but the next question slips past her filter. “Do you wish you hadn’t lost your memories?”
Maybe she just needs to hear that he wants to remember. Wants to remember her. That he’s mourning a life, even if he doesn’t know what it was.
The venomous scowl she’s faced with when he turns to her is enough to make her realize just how stupid that question was. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Sorry—”
“What kind of question is that? Who wants to lose their memories? Do you have any idea how miserable it is living like this?” Jay’s stopped walking and he’s glaring daggers, his fists clenched for an entirely different reason.
“You’re right,” Nya sputters a bit too desperately, “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question. I wasn’t thinking.”
Jay acknowledges her with a sharp grunt and continues walking. With a tad more anger in his step than before, Nya notes with a cringe.
“I’m sorry.” She says again, and she hopes this doesn’t undo any of the progress they’ve made in the past few days. She knows Jay’s body language—knows she’s hit a nerve.
She does still know Jay’s body language, right?
Jay falters a bit, before his shoulders untense with a sigh. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have snapped.”
Nya isn’t sure if it’s an apology, but regardless, she says “it's okay.”
The silence that follows is suffocating. Nya’s hyper aware of the faint tapping of fresh rain droplets falling off the trees and into the bushes below. It’s grating her nerves to the core and she can’t shake the guilty unease deep in her gut.
She knows she should probably keep her mouth shut. Let Jay— Rogue —cool off a bit. But she’s always been stubborn.
“I do know what it’s like.”
Jay halts. “What?”
His— Rogue’s —sharp tone makes her suddenly feel insecure. Jay never used to make her feel insecure.
“Um—” she’s regretting saying that. Oh well, too late now. “I lost my memories. Once. When I merged with the ocean.”
She realizes just how silly that sounds right when Jay does. “I’m… Not gonna comment on that.”
“It’s a long story. But the point is I got them back.” She takes a tentative step closer to him. “ You made me remember.”
She expects him to ignore her completely and keep walking, but the sounds of his footsteps cease. For a fleeting second, she’s terrified she’ll turn around and he’ll have disappeared. Grown wings and flown away, maybe. So she’s pleasantly surprised when she looks at him and he’s already staring—cautious, almost uncertain.
“Well, if I was getting my memories back, I’m sure it’d be because of my Yang.”
And Nya’s breath catches in her throat. Because he’s calling her his Yang. It shouldn’t be this dizzying—she knows it's true. It’s always been true. But hearing it from his mouth after he’s spent the past week vehemently refusing the fact is so refreshing. It fills her with hope that maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late to get him back. Nya thinks she might pass out from pure relief.
“What was it, by the way?” Jay’s tone is soft. She’s missed that tone.
“Hm?”
“My favourite colour.”
And, suddenly, Nya’s reeling again, and she wants to throw up. She’s taken back to their first ever conversation where he asked her favourite colour. The timing was horrible because his voice was gone and they’d just rescued her but it was perfect but it was the start of their story, and she’s hit like a tidal wave with the reminder that he doesn’t remember, he doesn’t remember, he doesn’t remember.
Nya swallows down the bile in her throat. “Blue.”
“Ah.”
“What is it now?”
She follows Jay’s eyes as they trace the outline of the tree roots below.
“Red.”
Nya gives a curt nod. Any more and her stomach would’ve expelled her lunch.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
They start walking again.