"I'm scared of not remembering you," Griffin sounded scared like a little kid told to sleep without the nightlight on.

     He sounded like I felt. Uncertain, afraid, faced with new information we were unsure how to process. A day ago we'd been at terms with leaving each other for half a year, steeled ourselves to the loneliness and distance. We'd been fine with it because we knew we'd see each other at the end. It was the thing that would have kept us going.

     Now, we'd have nothing to keep us going. I thought what scared us was the possibility of not remembering each other for six months. But it was the fact that someone else would be messing with our memories of each other. It was unspoken but I knew that to be the truth.

     There are just some things in life you know are yours and not anyone else's. Your memories are just one of those things. Living this far from home, Griffin and I don't have much in the way of personal possessions so memories have to do.

     Memories of meeting Griffin, our endless walks around the ship, sleepless nights spent combating the homesickness, training sessions on the lower decks, and stories from home are what I hold most dear. To think someone would remove them in the coming days, frankly, it made me sick to think about.

     So I tried not to think about it. I faced Griffin across my bed where he was leaning against the large window looking down at the green and blue planet below. He had his legs tucked up against his chest and his chin resting on them. When he breathed, it fluttered the strands of silvery hair that had fallen across his face. He looked more valuable now more than any night he ever came to my door asking to sleep with me.

     It hurt, it really did. Like a kick to the chest to see him this way. My own fear and sadness snaked under my skin, threating to take hold and drag me down. It was uncomfortable, similar to a splinter that just works itself deeper and deeper. The ends of it stuck me and refused to leave even though I kept telling myself it would be ok.

    Griffin shifted, drawing his legs more into himself, trying to make himself smaller. I shifted as well, reaching forward until my fingers brushed his arm. He met my eyes with his own glassy ones.

     "It'll be ok," even as the words left my mouth, I couldn't believe them. "Remember what Berkley said, once they're gone you can't remember what you lost."

     "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Griffin's sarcasm snuck its way in even when he was sad. I call it his coping mechanism.

     "Once it's done, you won't remember me and I won't remember you. The six months will fly by and before we know it we'll be back here with all our memories in order. It'll be like we never left."

     Griffin made a sound of disbelief low in his throat. I rambled on, not just to convince him that everything will be alright, but to convince myself as well.

     "Besides it's not like we can back out now. I know how much you want to see the rainforests. You wouldn't give that up right?"

     Griffin nodded and smiled a tiny bit. There, that was all I needed to keep going.

     "We've been dreaming of doing this since we left Andromeda, we can't just give up now."

     The words started coming easier and easier for me and they seemed to be having an effect on Griffin as well. He sat up straighter, smiled a little more, and reached out to take my hand. Sometimes all he needed is a big sister in his life. Someone to talk sense into him once in a while.

     "Thank you, Nova," he said, not a trace of shakiness left. "I really mean it."

     I met his gaze and leaned closer.

     "I promise you, Griffin, I'll never leave you after this mission. You have my word." And I meant it.

     He knew just by looking at my face that I meant it and that was good enough for him. He squeezed my hand and looked back out the window. The scarce light from outside shined into the dark room. It danced across Griffin's face playing on his high cheekbones and staying away from the hallows.

     I'm sure other girls on board thought he was a catch, handsome and polite. But that wasn't what I saw. I saw someone that cared, that feared, and that hoped right alongside me. He was my best friend, someone I knew I could count on and someone I knew how to talk to. He was all I needed and all I'd ever need.

     Slowly, like he didn't want to break the silence, Griffin climbed off the bed. I let go of his hand reluctantly, not knowing if this is the last time we'll have a moment like this. I almost asked him to stay.

     "Thanks for making...uh you know, me feel better," Griffin turned at the door. The soft light from the hallway outlined him, making it hard to see his face. "Goodnight Nova."

     "Goodnight," I whispered as he closed the door with a soft click.

     The light was drowned out by darkness once again and I kept staring at the door like he might come back. But he didn't. I'd put his mind to rest, convinced him that everything will be fine which I'm sure they will be. But had I convinced myself? Only the coming days knew.