Title: 1,000 Memories
Prompt: Imagine person A of your OTP loses their memory often, causing them to hit on/confess their love to person B often.
Prompt source: post/111702627405/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-loses-their-memory
Present Day

A/N: Here's the first in what I hope to be a long series of one-shots! Multi-chapter fics are pretty tough and I'm currently working on one, so I decided to try writing one shots as sort of a way to warm up. I took this in much more depressing direction than OTP Prompts probably intended, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

He heard small, shuffling footsteps approach him, and looked up to see her wander over. She smiled a smile that made her eyes sparkle. She held a familiar novel in her hands, which should have been his first clue. When she realized that she had been spotted, she blushed a little and waved. "Hi," she chirped, her voice light and bubbly as usual. "Whatcha reading?"

Eugene was sitting in a worn leather armchair in their favorite bookstore. Rapunzel always took so long to decide on a book, and he liked to hang back so she didn't feel pressured. He held up the book in his hands, the one she had picked out for him only twenty minutes ago. She came closer, showing him the book she had chosen. He was about to comment that she had already bought and read that one two weeks ago, but then she said, "I just love this bookstore. Do you come here often?"

He felt his breath rush out of him as the situation registered in his mind. She looked down at him politely, a small smile on her face. He searched her wide, green eyes, but found no trace of recognition. Rapunzel clutched the small book to her chest, her wedding band glinting in the light. He felt a pang in his chest, but covered it up with a smile.

"I do," he said evenly, after many months of practice, "It's my favorite place in the city."

"Mine too!" She exclaimed, a wide grin on her face. She tucked her book under one arm and extended the other towards him. "I'm Rapunzel."

It happened on a snowy day in January, about four months after their wedding. They had decided to go out for dinner to celebrate nothing in particular, and had both had a little to drink. Eugene had a higher alcohol tolerance, so he elected to drive, after guiding a tipsy Rapunzel into the passenger's seat. Snow fell softly around them as they made their way home, the world peaceful and silent.

Everything happened so fast. Rapunzel had fallen asleep, and was lightly snoring with her head pressed against the window. Eugene cast a fond, sideways glance at his wife just in time to see the headlights of a car beside them, gaining speed. Neither of the drivers saw the patch of ice before they hit it, cars swerving and careening into each other. Eugene's old Honda fishtailed around and the pick-up truck driver slammed on his brakes, but the ice sent him careening into the passenger side of the small sedan. There was a cacophony of glass breaking, metal crunching, and tires screeching, and then blackness.

Eugene knew he could never forget the horror he felt when he regained consciousness. He called her name in the darkness, and when his eyes finally adjusted he saw his wife leaning limply over the center console, blood glinting darkly in her pale hair.

Later, at the hospital, .Rapunzel fought for her life. The impact of the crash, combined with broken glass from the window had given her a serious head injury, and she had to undergo hours of surgery while Eugene paced impatiently. He had a few small cuts and bruises, but was otherwise unharmed. He remembered sitting in the waiting room, thinking of how unfair it was. Wishing he could trade places with her. And blaming himself constantly. Relentlessly. My fault. My fault. Myfaultmyfaultmyfault.

Hours later, a doctor came to the waiting room and Eugene all but leapt from his seat, demanding answers. When the man told him that she was alive, that she was stable, Eugene hugged him. The doctor led him back to the intensive care unit, all the while describing her condition to him. He said that she would be kept in an induced coma to facilitate healing. He said the brain injury was the worst of it, but that Rapunzel had also suffered two broken ribs and a broken arm. The doctor tried his best, but nothing could have prepared Eugene for what lay behind the curtain.

The first thing he noticed was that they had shaved her head. All of her beautiful, long blonde hair was gone. Even with bandages wrapped around her head, he could still see patches of stubble. There were tubes and wires everywhere, and she was hooked to different machines that beeped and whirred constantly. A tube in her throat connected to a machine that breathed for her. A clip on her finger monitored her heart rate. A smaller tube pumped medicine into her veins. The doctor explained all the machines and their functions to him, but he could only focus on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes that made her look as if she had gone weeks without sleeping. A dark bruise bloomed across one cheek. Tiny, scabbed over cuts dappled her skin.

When the doctor finally left them alone, Eugene collapsed into a chair at her bedside, still in shock. Very carefully, he took her small hand in both of his and pressed his lips to her pale skin. And he cried. Eugene Fitzherbert cried like a baby, gritting his teeth as the emotions washed over him - grief and pain and relief and joy and confusion and fear all at once. He cried and he didn't care if anyone saw, though the nurses kept their distance and Rapunzel remained unconscious. He slept there, in the stiff chair beside her bed, slumped over so his head rested beside her hand.

The next week was a blur of cheap coffee, sleeping in that chair, and sore muscles. Rapunzel remained stable and even showed signs of improvement. The small cuts on her face healed quickly, and her bruises began to fade. Her complexion went from pale white to the faintest of pinks. After a few tests, the doctors deemed her healthy enough to have the breathing tube removed and come off the induced coma. She didn't wake right away, which the doctors said was normal. Eugene pounded cup after cup of coffee, staying up long into the night just to be sure he was the first person she saw when she woke up.

He was reading a book when he heard her mumble faintly. The novel fell from his fingers and tumbled to the ground, but he didn't care. He rushed to her side, taking her hand and waiting. Eugene watched as her eyebrows knit together and her lips twitched. She took a shuddering breath, and then her eyes finally opened. Very quietly, as if afraid he might scare her back asleep, he said her name. Rapunzel blinked a few times, her pupils dilating then constricting as they adjusted to the harsh hospital lighting. Her eyes scanned the room and then finally fell on him, taking in his rumpled clothes, his stubble, and his messy hair.

"Where am I?" She asked, predictably. Her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. Remembering what the doctors had told him, Eugene calmly explained to her that there had been an accident and that she was in the hospital - he was not to elaborate, in order to avoid confusing her too much. She was able to nod slightly, a sign that she was aware of her surroundings and coherent.

She turned her large, green eyes back on him, and, polite as ever, asked, "Who are you?"

They had not prepared him for this. There was no pamphlet titled, "What To Say When Your Wife Comes Out Of A Coma And Has No Idea Who You Are." They had said she may have some mild memory loss, that she may not remember the accident or the days leading up to it, but this? They had been married for months before the accident, and had been dating for years leading up to it. Just like that, Rapunzel had forgotten an entire chunk of her life.

For once at a loss for words, Eugene had called in a nurse. He stood in the corner helplessly as the nurse tried to assess just how much she had forgotten. She asked what year it was. She asked how old Rapunzel was. Rapunzel claimed she was eighteen. The nurse asked her where she lived. She answered that she lived with her mother.

Rapunzel had forgotten everything after her eighteenth birthday. She had forgotten escaping her abusive mother and meeting Eugene and seeing the world and everything. She had forgotten getting married.

When she was deemed healthy enough, Eugene was assigned with the painstaking task of helping her regain her memories. He told her about leaving her mother and about her mother's suicide. She took it as hard as she had all those years ago. He told her about how they met, their hands touching as they reached for the same book in their favorite book shop. He told her about their first date and how they fell in love. He told her about when they moved in together. He told her about their first fight, and about how they made up after. He told her about how he proposed to her. He told her about their wedding.

This happened a few times before Rapunzel left the hospital. After the third time, she seemed to notice how practiced he was and asked, "How many times have you told me all this?" After that, she asked for a notebook. Eugene had rushed down to the gift shop and picked out a lavender moleskine and a pack of pens. She spent the next few hours writing everything down that she had forgotten, asking him questions as she went. When she was done, she placed the notebook by her bedside and told Eugene to make her read it whenever she had an episode.

After nearly two months in the hospital, Rapunzel was discharged. Her hair had begun to grow back, covering the gnarled scar that snaked around her head. Rather than blonde, however, it grew back a dark, chocolaty brown. Often when she had an episode, she would reach for her long hair and become even more confused to find short curls. Everyone hoped that returning home would help her settle back into her life and cause her episodes to be farther apart.

Rapunzel's episodes were sporadic. Some days were so bad that she had three in one day. Sometimes she could go weeks without an episode. The record was 23 days. The doctors had said that there was no way of knowing if she would ever stop having episodes. After a little more than a year since the accident, Eugene just accepted things as they were.

While Rapunzel had been in the hospital, Eugene had only left her side to eat and catch the bus home (his car had been totaled, and he knew he wouldn't be able to afford a new one once the hospital bills started coming) for a shower and change of clothes. As a result, he lost his job. Rapunzel couldn't work, and her disability checks weren't enough to support both of them.

Luckily, their friends at the Snuggly Duckling pub helped them out and hired Eugene as a bartender. The motley crew of thugs were quite fond of Rapunzel, and kept her entertained while Eugene worked. He didn't think he could have gotten a job that forced him to be away from her, anyways. Rapunzel passed the time by drawing, knitting more hats, or playing poker with the thugs.

Eugene had wondered, back in the hospital, if Rapunzel could really be happy living a half-life, constantly forgetting and having to re-learn it all over again. He wondered if she could still love him if she kept forgetting their time together. He wondered if she could live comfortably with the small paychecks he brought home. He wondered if she knew that she would never have a normal life.

Sure, sometimes her episodes were upsetting. Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and scream because there was a stranger sleeping beside her. Sometimes she would have an episode in the middle of a task and become so confused that she wept. Once, she had an episode while walking alone to the grocery store and had wandered around for hours until Eugene found her. After that, he made sure that she was rarely alone.

But Rapunzel was not unhappy. Once she recovered from her episodes, she calmed down quickly. And even when she forgot him, even when he was a stranger to her, Rapunzel always gravitated towards Eugene. Even when all she knew was that he was a handsome stranger who looked like he needed to sleep more, she felt safe with him. He was always surprised that she knew to find him. Even when she had an episode and forgot five years of her life, some instinct carried her towards him.

For what may have very well been the thousandth time, Eugene extended his hand and said, "Rapunzel. That's a lovely name. I'm Eugene."

He may have imagined it, but he thought he saw a small glimmer of recognition in her eyes. He offered her a seat, and, just as he had many times before, calmly explained. "You may not remember me, but I know you very well. In your purse is a purple notebook. Take some time to read it, and then come find me. I won't be far."

He left her rummaging through her bag and went into an aisle not too far away. He watched as she found her notebook and began to read, flipping through the worn pages. She pulled off the knitted cap she had been wearing, her short, choppy brown hair popping out and sticking in every direction. The more time that passed, the more she added to her notebook and the longer it took her to catch up each time. But he didn't mind. Some parts made tears well in her eyes. Some parts made her smile. Some parts made her giggle. He could always tell when she got to the part where she had described his proposal and their marriage, because she would gaze at her ring for a long time before continuing to read. He had never read her notebook, and he didn't feel inclined to.

When he saw her close the notebook and put it back in her bag, he turned and pulled out a random book, pretending to be very interested in - he checked the cover - particle physics. He heard light footsteps approach him, and then felt two thin arms wrap around him as she hugged him from behind. She pressed her face into the soft material of his jacket. Her voice was muffled, but he heard her clearly when she said, "I love you. I am happy. It's not your fault."

A/N: As soon as I saw the post about this prompt on my tumblr, I knew I had to write this. What is it about a person's OTP that makes them want to put them through emotional trauma? We just don't know.

I'm considering my next one-shot being Rapunzel's journal. Thoughts? And as always, I'd love to hear feedback!

Bonus: Wanna submit a prompt? Send me a private message!