Hanna knew it would have to happen sometime. The time would come when his zombie companion would find his past, remember everything, remember his name, and god, he'd remember and they'd rejoice because that's just what Hanna wants for the zombie, a happy life and happy memories like he was sure a great guy like his zombie friend would have. He knew it would happen sometime, but he couldn't possibly begin to think about what zombie would do when that time would come. He of course wants zombie to be happy and full of great memories about Christmas and his high school years and days at the pool and his friends and his job and…

His stomach turns itself over at the thought alone and he turns over on his mattress slowly, sure that with the way the wall illuminates just slightly beside him that he made the zombie aware that he was awake, aware of his movements. But he laid still again and the wall slowly became dim once again and he wonders for a second if when his friend regains his memories he'll ever see that dim, golden glow on his walls in his restless nights ever again. The thought hangs in his mind, weighing heavy and nearly parturient enough to tug his heartstrings enough to almost elicit a hiccup of a sob from his laden chest.

He hears the zombie flip a page in his new book, whatever book that might be, and he wonders if he'll hear that in his sleep too as he closes his eyes slowly, forcing himself to a calm aplomb, though he still felt the subtle sting of fear and doubt deep within him. He takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly, steadily, enough that when he opens his eyes at the end, he notices that he hadn't redrawn the attention of those refulgent golden eyes. He tucks slowly into himself, curling up under the thin sheet that was all that served for warmth, eyes feeling heavy suddenly, but not with sleep. He can't help but give a small, silent hiccup in pain of doubt as his mind recalls something he would rather not ever think about in presence to his zombie friend. He slowly shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the thought without drawing the zombie's attention again. He didn't want to show him he had yet to fall asleep, even though things had gotten that way and, finally, he shoots upright in bed, suddenly and inexplicably, making the zombie's eyes snap immediately to him and his hands still resting on the mattress grip tightly then let go as his eyes begin to water under that golden gaze and he puts his hands to his face, covering it from the rich-colored eyes that watched him in worry and curiosity.

"Hanna?"

That voice, that voice that would he would never hear again if it's owner remember, that sweet, sweet voice, finally made the hiccups of pre-sobbing echo out his throat. He pushes his half-clenched fists into his eyes and he let out a small noise. He had never before let himself fall into a state like this around anyone, but he couldn't hold back now.

"Hanna…"

He can hear the zombie leaning closer to him, the book being placed on the floor next to the mattress, the crinkling of the mattress as the zombie puts his hand there to lean closer, nearly feel the air move as a green hand reaches toward him, wishing to comfort. All this makes Hanna whirl to him quickly, composure decayed. He stares at the zombie with doleful blue eyes, breathing coming in short pants with an expression what the zombie could only describe as "concerned," although even that didn't quite fit.

Hanna looks away slowly, setting his arms on his knees, eyes growing placid and staring away from the zombie, who continued to gaze at him in confusion. He shakes his head and slowly rests his chin on his folded arms, blinking in the darkness.

"What if you remember, Gallahad?" The zombie continues to stare at him, not daring to interrupt Hanna's moment of lugubrious sobriety. "I… I've heard that sometimes people with amnesia… when they recover their memories, they… lose all the ones they made up from the point they lost it until they remember. And, I mean… I just… you and…" Hanna slowly looks towards him, eyes solemn as they lock back onto the zombie's own. There was a long moment of silence between them, both knowing the question that was being brought about from this, the question that lingered on Hanna's restless mind.

"What if you forget me?"

As if on cue, the zombie's arms raise, and move around Hanna, tucking him close against his cold chest, and even though Hanna was sure that Zombie had been cold for nearly a decade, he swore he felt a flutter of heat somewhere, somehow in that dead, un-beating chest.

"It's impossible to forget you, Hanna."