A Memory, Nothing More
Warning: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 16.
AN: So, I really hate that Jane slept with Oscar. I wanted her first time post-memory wipe, to be with Kurt. Check my Tumblr for my ranting, if you are desperate! Anyway, I wrote this a few hours after watching the episode, mainly just to try and make myself feel better. I apologise for any mistakes, it's 2:30am and I didn't want to dwell on this for too long. I just wanted to bust it out and try and get over this episode. Let me know what you think.
x x x
If she had needed anything to affirm it was mistake, the first word he spoke after they parted would have done the trick.
"Taylor."
Truth was - she'd known as soon as they'd begun. She'd squashed it down with frantic kisses and inky, hasty movements, scrambling for someone she used to be but could barely remember.
She sat up and felt an instant ache in her back.
There was a reason people did that in beds.
Her shod feet touched the warehouse floor, cold and unforgiving, even through the hard soles of her boots. The light flickered, straddling two modes in a way she could relate to.
"Please, don't say anything," Jane said, almost begging, her voice soft but strong.
She felt cold.
That not normal is it? She couldn't remember.
After all, not five minutes ago they'd been…
Oscar stayed quiet, less his heavy breathing. Lingering sensory evidence of what they'd done. Jane fixed her clothes - some of which had never even left her body. Her sports bra was tightly in place, the straps joining in the centre of her back and running over a name she'd rather not think about.
She momentarily wondered why Oscar hadn't pulled her clothes entirely free. Was nakedness something he'd deemed unnecessary for their frenetic union? Or perhaps he hadn't wanted to see the patterns on her skin, the silent reminder that she wasn't the same woman as before, the same woman he'd fallen in love with.
"I'm sorry," she said, her top back on, fitting against her body perfectly, as if it'd never been removed.
"No," Oscar said, firmly but with a smooth evenness that challenged rebuttal. It was as if he knew what was coming and wanted to stop her before she could damage something he'd longed for. He stood up, close enough that a weaker soul may have been intimidated.
That wasn't her.
"This was a mistake," she continued, hair falling in her eyes as she bent and tucked her necklace under her shirt. She'd forgotten she was wearing it, (it somehow felt natural already?) and she couldn't stand to see it now. It seemed like a betrayal, somehow. Not even to Kurt, perhaps, but to herself.
To Jane.
"Hey," Oscar said, his hands gripping her shoulders with a gentleness that surprised her. He hadn't been forceful with her (he wouldn't still be in one piece if he'd dare tried), but he'd been intense. His touches deliberate, strong but not debilitating. It had been as if he'd been trying to make a point, or perhaps reach someone long gone. "This was right," he said as she looked up at him, emphasising the last word as if it bore no question. "This was us," he said, "you and me."
"Do you really believe that?" she questioned, speaking with sudden frustration. She was angry at herself, and wasn't even sure why. She stepped back. "How can you believe that?" her voice raised. "I don't remember you. Not really. Not even after we..."
"Is that why you did this? Tonight? Were you trying to remember?"
"I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "Does it matter?" The question was rhetorical. Her brain had stacked the deck against them, holding her heart prisoner and stopping it from beating with his.
"Taylor..." Oscar said, stepping closer to her again, desperately restoring the closeness.
It was long gone.
"I'm not her!" Jabe said, voice almost a yell. Oscar's face fell, ever so slighly. "I wish I could be the Taylor you knew, the Taylor you loved."
"You are!"
"Not anymore," she said. "I'm sorry, Oscar," she said, speaking his name. It sounded more foreign than a language she'd just learned she could speak.
It was ironic, perhaps, given what they'd just shared.
"Taylor's just a memory," she said. "Yours, not mine."
With a final whispered apology that did him little good, she was gone.