Remember

Simple

Marshmallow plus a chocolate piece plus 10 seconds in the microwave....  I smile and open the microwave door as it beeps at me.  Taking the plate with the sticky sweet treat out of the heating contraption, I tranfer the gooey thing onto a spoon and slowly turn around, nibbling on the treat.  I'm met with Sherlock's judging gaze as he stands against a kitchen counter, arms crossed.

"Again?"  He sounds disappointed.

"What?" I reply innocently.

"I don't remember buying more fluff things to supply your addiction."

"These 'fluff things' are called marshmallows, and it's not an addiction,"  I defend, carefully hiding the bag of 'fluff things' behind a loaf of bread.  Sherlock's eyes become slits before he passes me and goes into his room, slamming the door.  I shrug and skip to the kitchen table, flipping through a fashion magazine.

My mobile buzzes on the table, I quickly pick it up, "Hello?"

"Anistyn, how are things going in London?"  I hear Nadine's voice through my mobile, I smile.

"Pretty good, a bit pressured though.  Sherlock hasn't said it out loud, but I know he wants the old Anistyn back."

"You'll remember eventually, just take it easy until then."

"What if I don't?"  I bite my nails nervously.

"You will, I believe in you."  I can hear sympathy through the mobile.

"How are your classes going?  Everything going well I hope."  I change the topic.

"Yes!  My students are glad I'm back, I've heard some nasty rumors that my substitute didn't do the best job at teaching Italian."  She laughs lightly.

"Well I hope everything's been sorted?"

"Yes, yes.  Everything is running smoothly.  You're adjusting well?"

"For now."  I sigh, "I just need to get to know Sherlock a bit better, it's hard not remembering."

"It'll be okay, ju-"  She cuts herself off, "My free period is almost done, my next class is in a couple minutes.  I'll talk to you soon, yea?"

"Yea."  I reply with the conversation ending, I hang up.  Putting my mobile face down on the table, I put my face in my hands.  Part of me wants to remember.  Another part of me doesn't.  I looked up who Anistyn Holmes was and I got loads of newspaper articles on several different occurrences.  This woman, the woman I'm supposed to be, committed treason.  She betrayed her government and her family, how can Sherlock stand to be in the same room as me?  If I am this woman, how have I not been arrested?  Because you're not really Anistyn.  A voice in my head says, probably one of the logical voices.  Are you daft?  Of course you're Anistyn.  You're brothers just forgave you and cleaned up the mess you got tangled up in.  Another voice fights.  Great.  My mind is at war with itself.  I groan and hold my head tighter.

Maybe if I just decide I'm simple, it'll all go away.  If I decide I'm a normal human being, that I'm not this Anistyn Holmes, all this will just be a bad dream and go away.  

"Hey, what's going on?"  A gentle voice enters the kitchen, I pick my head up and turn my head to look at Beckett.

"I'm just trying to figure this all out."

"It's going to take time, and that's okay."  He smiles lightly, trying to ease my mind.

"I know."  I lie, sharing the smile.  I don't want to worry him.  He shares my gaze and then gets up to leave the room.

"I have to run some errands, do you need anything?"  He turns to me.

"Just some chocolate, I have enough marshmallows."  I smirk, he laughs and shakes his head.

"Alright."  And with that, he's out the door.  Leaving me with my dilemma.

Do I want to remember?  The serious thought enters mind mind.  I stare at my folded hands resting on the table.  Do I?  Anistyn Holmes committed treason, but she did more than that.  Sherlock and Ben both mention I had been in the army.  Do I want to remember that?  The only things I remember from my past are facts and statistics.  PTSD affects a number of servicemen and women.  Did Anistyn suffer from PTSD?  I shake my head, I am Anistyn. 

But with remembering who Anistyn Holmes is comes with baggage.  I can have a new start.  I can start with a clean state and create my own memories.  I nod to myself, I don't have a responsibility to be the old Anistyn.  I can choose my own path.  And I choose simplicity.  I smile slightly, finalizing the decision.

I'm simple.  That's all.  How could I be anything else?