The Inbetween

"How are you feeling dear?"

Fin slowly sits up, looking at the woman with drawn brows for a moment. This woman-- she's familiar to him. What was her name again? He turns his thoughts over in his head until a name stands out. "Leia," he murmurs, trying the name on his mouth before he sits up fully. "I'm feeling a little whoozy, in honesty," he responds, a slight accent showing.

"Here drink this, you'll feel better. "

He takes the cup, looking at the contents a moment and took a sniff of it, recognition flickering across his gaze. "Ginger." Taking a sip, color slowly starts to return, though the pounding was still there. "What happened?"

"Auguste figured out who you are. When you learned the truth, you lost consciousness."

Auguste. The name rings a bell in his mind, though he can't entirely place it immediately. But, he does remember, vaguely, what had brought him here, and fragments of what happened before that. He looks around the room, then listens, though a moment later he smiles a small and thin smile. "I still haven't fully recovered, but I think there's enough to be known." He looks at Leia, though his gaze holds slight concern. "I haven't put anyone in danger, have I?"

"No dear. Everyone is fine. Speaking of - Kasper!"

"I'm right here."

He sighs quietly in relief, looking down at the tea in his hands. "That's reassuring." Looking up, he eyes Kasper a moment before his expression brightens at the sight of his scarf. "My scarf. I'm glad to see it isn't in pieces yet."

"Here. Don't let it get frayed like it was. I have better things do. By the way, this side of you is better. "

"He certainly is interesting."

Finn catches the scarf easily, staring at the man as he walks out, then looks to the repaired scarf. And at the last statement, his ears grow red and he looks to Leia, gaze puzzled and embarrassed. "What's he talking about? Was I different before I woke up?"

"In a sense. You weren't exactly yourself."

He frowns and looks at his tea, brow creased. Then, it sort of clicked-- he wasn't him for quite some time, and that was why things for him seemed rather fuzzy for the last few days. "My alias," he murmured, though his expression grew knowing and serious. "No, I suppose I wasn't. Things grew hazy after I assumed Alyse's identity."

"So you were aware of her then? Do you remember who you are?"

"I am aware of her," he replies. "She was who my grandmother helped conjure up after the initial wave of attack." He pauses and a hand goes to his forehead and he frowns a little. "If I'm remembering correctly. But, I'm not entirely certain how I ended up," he paused a moment, gesturing with his hand, "here. I mean, there's fragments, but not enough to make a coherent picture." Realizing the next question, he looks at her, then nods, his voice low. "I remember that much."