CONSCIOUS
CHAPTER ONE
She opens her eyes, a movement so simple, and yet so difficult at the same time.
She hasn't visualized the world in what feels like forever, but what was in reality only four days.
The date is April 24th, 2014. It's a Tuesday.
She coughs once before taking in her surroundings. It's a simple white room furnished by the bed she's currently laying in, a table and a chair nearby, and from what she can see, a cubicle leading to a toilet and a sink.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she thinks of how she could have ended up here. Unfortunately, nothing springs to mind.
She can hear the faint movement in the hallway adjacent to her room, and her eyes flicker open yet again once the door slowly creaks open. A blonde woman dressed in a white robe enters, followed by a man holding a chart. He closes the door behind himself. His hair is dark, yet slightly red. A pair of glasses rest upon the brim of his nose as he walks toward the end of her bed.
He coughs a few times, a hand covering his mouth to avoid the germs from spreading and he folds his arms over his chest in a professional manner.
The woman comes and stands next to her, grasping her wrist and placing two fingers against her pulse. "Steady beat, Doctor."
The man nods and scribbles something down, while the woman walks over to her toilet room and runs the tap. She exits, a plastic white cup of water in hand, "Drink." She tilts the patient's head back and places the rim of the cup against her lips. When she's sure that she's drank, she throws the drink in the trash can near the bed and walks toward the door, the man in step with her.
The nurse sends her one last glance before opening the door and stepping out. The metal frame shook as the door closes with a small bang.
She wonders who they were. She's doesn't remember them. She doesn't remember much.
Her last thought before drifting off into sleep, wonders what she slipped into her drink.
He paces outside of her room, his hands twitching from nerves. What happened? Is she awake? Is something wrong with her?
He tries to get the attention of her doctors as they exit the room, but they just walk straight past him, ignoring his calls and yells to them.
Setting himself down on one of the plastic chairs, he runs a hand through his hair before placing his head in his hands, his legs shaking beneath him.
Why wouldn't they tell him anything? Did he not deserve to know?
The man bites his lower lip, to stop it from quivering. All he needs to know is that she's okay, that's she's safe and healthy. That's she's still perfect. That she's still his Rachel.
Her eyes flutter open again, except that this time her head is pounding. She can hear yelling coming from the hallway, and wonders if it could be about her.
The door opens again, and the nurse from earlier walks in, a teddy bear in hand. She places it on her table and the patient glances to the side, admiring it's form. It's brown, and he's holding a love heart printed with the word 'forever' inscribed across its chest.
"Do you feel any pressure? How are you feeling?" she asks.
The brunette squints, "My head hurts..." The nurse nods, turning off her bedside lamp and patting her forehead with a damp cloth that she held in her hand.
"Do you remember your name?"
Rachel softly frowns, what kind of a question is that. "My name is Rachel Berry."
"Very good," she smiles at her before sitting her up correctly in her bed. Rachel rests her back against her pillows as the elder woman shines a light in her eyes, checking her pupils, and then inspects her throat and tonsils. "You're in very good shape, Miss Berry."
She pronounces her last name with such unease that Rachel wonders what could be wrong with it.
"I'll be back in a few hours with the Doctor to check on you again." She smiles at her, and Rachel smiles back.
She looks at the woman intently; her blonde hair is cut short, her blue eyes bright and quite a few frown lines apparent on her ageing face. From what she can tell, she's in her early fifties. Her name-tag reads Susan. "Sleep." and she leaves.
Who could possibly need that much sleep?
At precisely ten o'clock at night, the two figures from earlier reappear and Rachel feigns unconsciousness. She hadn't been asleep since the nurse left, she was too busy wondering what brought her here.
"Miss Berry... how are we feeling?" The Doctor asks and Rachel shrugs, adding a 'fine.' "Do you know why you're here?"
The brunette frowns again, shaking her head. What was with all the questions? Shouldn't they be the ones giving her the answers? They were the medical experts after all.
"I see... well then, why don't we just delay this 'til morning time then, hmm?" She doesn't have time to answer before he leaves, slamming the door behind the nurse and himself.
He was hiding. Of course, he was hiding. There was no other way that he would get to see her. That they would let him see her, the reasoning of which he still had to determine.
He had gone to the bathroom and prolonged his stay in one of the cubicles until the janitor had come to clean it them for the day. He left the stall and washed his hands, his gaze catching the cleaner's as he was told that he was shutting them up for the day. He had simply smiled before rubbing his hands on his jeans to dry them, not wanting to spend another second with the man and exiting the bathroom. It was already 10.57pm and hospital stopped allowing visitors around 11pm.
Walking past one of her doctors, he faked his way toward the exit, swapping his direction once the man was out of sight. Before he knew it, he was outside of her room, the hallway unlit, making him alone in the dark. Checking it was clear, he quietly entered.
There she lay; her browns locks spread across the pillow, her hands clasped together above her legs curled up into a ball.
He sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. He hadn't seen her in what felt like an eternity. Making his way to her bedside, he pulled up the chair and sat beside her as she slept.
He missed her sleeping next to him. He missed waking up to her in the morning, her head resting against his chest and a hand laying across the waistband of his boxers. He missed smelling her hair and kissing her head before they got into bed. He missed making love to her and the sweet sounds that she'd make with him. He missed her.
He laughed to himself. It had only been four days without her. Three mornings and three nights without her. But he was missing her like crazy.
"Rach, I don't know if you can hear me. 'Cause, well, you're asleep and you're a pretty deep sleeper. But if you can, or if a part of you is kind of awake right now, I just want you to know. I'm never leaving you, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Ever. And that drunk driver, I'm gonna find him. I am, because he deserves to die for what he did to you Rach. Because you never deserved this, and he is going to pay, okay?" he grasped her hands in his own as he spoke. A tear rolling down his cheek, he continued, "But if you don't wake up from this, I'm don't know what I'm gonna do, Rach. I don't know anything without you. I don't know anything but you. Just... stay with me okay? Forever, remember?" He leant down and kissed her forehead longingly, before standing up as he saw a light go on in the hallway. "I love you."
He turned to exit the room, with a final glance toward her.
Her eyes flew open, unknown to him as he faced her back. But she turned and managed to catch a small peek of him, only noticing his blue shirt on his tall frame and the wedding ring adorning his finger.
She hadn't been asleep.
A tear escaped her right eye, trailing down her cheek and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
Who was he?
The man had a burning love for her and she couldn't even place him?
She doesn't remember being heartless. She doesn't remember ever speaking to him. She doesn't remember ever seeing him.
She doesn't remember him. She doesn't remember Finn Hudson.
It was only as she cast her eyes down that she noticed the exact same wedding band placed on her finger.