A/N: Disclaimer again. I don't own shit. Read and review, please. Also, all mistakes are of my own doing. I apologize for any errors.
Fuckin' hell, this couch is uncomfortable. Rachel Berry was half asleep in the hospital's waiting room, her head resting on Quinn's bag full of fresh clothes she had picked and packed earlier. Just as she was about to succumb into unconsciousness, she felt herself being poked repeatedly on the arm.
"Hey, wake up," said a soft familiar voice.
Her eyes shot open and she slowly turned her body to the voice. "Hi," she says with a voice laced with drowsiness.
"What are you up to?" Asked the blonde awkwardly which makes Rachel smile a little.
"Umm, sleeping," she answers simply. She had missed Quinn so much, it was this particular moment that Rachel found herself feeling both completely smitten and nostalgic for her life before the accident. She looked at her wife for a second, Quinn's small blush, untamed hair that was pointing in all kinds of directions and bottom lip tucked in a perfect row of white teeth. Rachel felt her heart implode with so much emotion she found it slightly hard to breathe.
Quinn ducked her head in slight embarrassment, "Right. Of course." A moment of silence passed before Rachel cleared her throat and reaches beside her.
"I brought you some clothes," and brought the bag up higher up on the couch. Quinn had leant in and sat on the side of the couch.
"Great, thank you," she touched the bag as she said this. "So, I'm kind of hungry." Rachel lets out a small chuckle under her breath; she looked at her wife with so much adoration that her eyes were just shining despite the tragic situation they've found herself in. In spite of the conflicting feelings the brunette had, she simply stood up and gathers her belongings.
"Alright, let's go and get some food then."
They were at the back of the hospital's cafeteria where they held the food, Rachel gathered a couple fruit bowls and yoghurt on her tray while Quinn was doing the same.
"So I wanted to talk," the blonde started as she reached for the spoon, "You know, verify a few things about us and what I was like before the..." She trailed off but Rachel needed no more than that to understand anyway.
"Right, of course, Quinn," the brunette smiled as she started to grab some coffee for herself and her wife. She could see the blonde's anxious demeanor radiating from her. Rachel's heart clenched a little, the realization that what her wife must be going through, the confusion she must feel for being so kept in the dark that were her blank memories. Memories of Rachel.
"So we're married?"
She took a deep breathe. "Yes."
"Yeah, and I have weird hair," the blonde mutters as she runs a hand shortly through her chopped mane. Rachel chortles at this before letting out a response.
"I think that's taking a narrowed view," she begins, "But you said your long hair was too hard to deal with when you started opening your studio."
"My studio?" She turned abruptly, "I have a studio, why do I have a studio?" Rachel cleared her throat, finding it hard to actually explain all this to her favorite person in the world. She had always known that Quinn's career meant a lot to her, the fact that the blonde couldn't remember her drive and passion for it gutted the diva.
"You're a photographer, a really good one. You were actually working on a putting together a shoot for the new architectural magazine. It's kind of a big deal," she answers proudly. They had started walking to their table and Quinn was slowly getting to her seat with a look of extreme confusion.
"What about my law degree? The last thing I remember was law school, I didn't want to get into photography since high school! Wait, wait. Do I have my law degree?"
"You...were a few credits shy," the shorter one said in reply while she busied herself with opening her fruit bowl and yoghurt. "You dropped out and moved into the city." Quinn remained quiet, trying to process the new information as Rachel continued. "You started with being an intern but after a couple years, you opened your own studio and ever since then, you've been doing pretty well."
"Maybe it's not a completely terrible thing, right? I think you need to look at it like a win," Santana tells her while they gathered in their usual cafe. Rachel had called upon her friends to go to the bistro, needing a sense of familiarity from the life before the accident as well as the support of those who cared for the married couple.
"Having your wife in a car accident and waking up with PTSD without a single memory of who you are is a win?" Rachel asks incredulously with a smirk. She knew Santana. She knew this was her way of coping somewhat and so Rachel let her talk to her heart's content, no matter how ridiculous the things she said were.
"Santana! That was mean," chastises the blonde on the latina's arm.
"Sorry, Britts," Santana says with a quick peck to her cheek before turning back to the brunette. "All I'm saying is that now she can't remember all the stupid shit you've done, you know?"
Rachel simply rolled her eyes at this but Kurt spoke up for her. "Sant, shut up." To which she answered with a flip of her longest finger and cuddled back with Brittany. She buried her face in the blonde's neck, the past few weeks had been taking it's toll on all of them really.
Tina shakes her head sadly, "I'm just worried. If she doesn't remember you, how is she gonna remember she's in love with you?" Which earned her a slap on the arm from Kurt. "What?"
"I'm, quite frankly, surprised she even went for you the first time," Santana comments.
"If anything, you've become less attractive," Kurt teases resulting in light laughter around the group, including the short brunette.
"You guys are a great support system," she said but then her expression turns sullen. "Seriously though, what if she doesn't remember me? What then?" At that mere thought, Rachel could feel the bile rising in her throat, the throbbing in her temples intensify and the palms of her hands beginning to clam rapidly.
Kurt leaned over to place a comforting hand on the brunette's arm. Brittany moved from Santana's side and knelt down in front of Rachel, taking her hands in her own. "She's gonna remember you, us, all of us," she reminds the diva with her innocent eyes, "We're a family."
Rachel looked around her table, the wonderful and supportive faces of her friends looking back at her with the concern and love. She felt something warm wash over her for a quick second, something that felt really close to hope.
She burst through the hospital doors with a small smile and bouquet of flowers in her hands, she navigated her way through the many hallways until she found the familiar one of Quinn's. But when she pulled back hte curtains, she found herself staring at a neat empty bed. Dread swept through her quickly before turning around to the standing nurse.
"Umm, where is my wife?"
"Quinn Fabray?" She clarifies with the frantic girl, "She was moved to the VIP room. Just make your way to the sixth floor, down the hall and third door to the left."
"Thank you," she managed to say before speed walking her way to Quinn's room. Once she did, she was shocked to see Russell Fabray along with Judy and Frannie.
She looks around anxiously. "Hi, Judy, Fran," and sends a weird look to the man in the room she had hoped never to see for awhile at the least. The two women greeted her, but Rachel noticed the uncomfortable look present on their faces. "What's going on?"
The doctor smiles and explains, "We were just discussing the fact that Quinn is just about ready to go, discharging her tomorrow. I was telling them that it'd be best if Quinn was to return to her life and ease into it as much as she can if her memory were to come back."
Feeling a sense of relief, she nods and placed the flowers on the table at the foot of Quinn's bed then turning to her wife and sending a smile which was returned. Before she could open her mouth to speak though, Russell cleared his throat and speaks with slight distaste on his tongue.
"Yes, we thought that Quinn should come back with us, you know, to be a family."
The shortest girl narrows her eyes to slits at his interruption, anger slowly boiling up within her. She looks at the two other girls beside Quinn, only to find them totally looking elsewhere while the blonde in the bed looked nervous and wary of what was transpiring between the brunette and her father.
That's when it hit Rachel. So she gave herself a new mission for the moment. Quinn was coming home with her.
"When her memory returns, regardless, I still think she should come back home," she says the last word with conviction because their downtown townhouse is their home. Theirs. Together. "Look, I don't mean to be disrespectful. I mean, we appreciate that but the doctor just said Quinn should go back to her normal routine. Her life with me is her normal routine."
"A life she doesn't remember," whispers Judy Fabray whose eyes were so full of sadness as she addressed the blonde in bed.
"She will, that's what the doctor just got through say-,"
"No," her response was cut short by Russell. "She said maybe Quinn will remember. I think it'd be much better if she were surrounded by people she knows and loves." The emphasis on the last word was not lost on the diva and boy did she feel the stab to her heart, and the twisting of the 'metaphorical' knife.
"We're just trying to do what's best for her," the older blonde tries to ease the tension in the room. But Rachel was already heated up.
"That's interesting because you haven't even asked her once." Right after she said this, Quinn brought her hands to her eyes, as if to alleviate the pain behind them. Bad headache.
"What I really need is for you guys to stop bickering!" She said with exasperation. Sensing the palpable tension in the room, the doctor quickly reminds them of their long day and that nothing needed to be decided until tomorrow.
A/N: Sorry this took awhile. It's going to be a pretty wide gap between updates because I'm a tad busy with being a first-year uni student and all. PLEASE REVIEW THOUGH.
