96,000?
Damn.
I have a sudden obsession with In the Heights (to which the above is a lyric to my favourite song in the show) =). Totally (actually probably not) nothing to do with the five days I just spent in sunny Spain =D Meaning I had no time to write but at least I got a tan! And a class of fit boys parading around topless on the balcony beneath my room – droooool!
Thanks for feedback on the last chapter!
How long have I been awake?
Where am I?
Why does my head hurt?
Oh...
...
How long have I been awake?
Where am I?
Try as she might, Rachel couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. Her body felt extremely comfortable but her head felt like it was being split open with a blunt chainsaw. She couldn't think, she couldn't speak, and she couldn't even hear a thing. The only thing going on in her was a slow chain of memories bumbling through her mind.
Winning regionals senior year and kissing Mr. Schue on the lips (she would never live that down...)
Going prom dress shopping with Quinn.
Watching Toy Story 3 at the movies next to a crying Finn.
Wait, Finn.
That night. Last night?
Finn had stood her up. She got hammered. With Kurt and Mercedes.
But this didn't feel like a hangover...
That bitch outside the club!
Oh God, the one that stole her taxi.
Wow, she must have really bumped her head. What day was it?
Slowly she moved her hand up and heard the rustle of unfamiliar sheets, the first thing she had heard since she'd woken. She cautiously felt around a little and discovered that she was wearing a big, baggy cotton t-shirt. Not the dress she went out in the night before. Wait – did she score?
Did some burly, muscular guy save her after the bitch pushed her over? And then they spent the whole night drinking wine and then having mad, passionate sex?
Rachel was liking this idea. She forced herself to wrench her eyes open, hoping to catch a glimpse of her lover, but was greeted by a sight far different from what she had expected.
A hospital room. White walls, a gleaming blue floor and two brown doors opposite her bed, as well as another single door to the right of her bed, presumably her toilet.
Huh. No lover, just head injury. Awesome.
As though on cue, a nurse trotted in, wheeling a trolley heaving with cards and flowers.
'Oh, lovely, you're up!' she smiled at Rachel. 'Would you like a drink?'
'Oh, um...' Well, she was parched. 'Water would be nice, thank you.'
'Coming right up.' She bustled out, leaving her alone.
I might as well look at all these flowers... Rachel reached out and grabbed the nearest bouquet of flowers.
Rachel, hope you get better soon, love Kurt, Mercedes and everyone at the theatre.
The theatre? Must be some private joke they had. She put it back and picked up the next one.
Rach! You had me worried you were gonna miss our plans for Saturday honey! You'd better be at the club! Love you, Santana xxx.
Okay, Rachel hadn't spoken to Santana in at least five years. Confused, she put it back. Next one:
Angel, get better soon, the show can't go on without you! All my love, Jesse.
Jesse?
Jesse who?
The nurse came back in then, carrying a small glass of water and a chilled bottle of Perrier.
'Here you go, sweetness.'
Rachel gratefully took a sip of water, almost spitting it out when she realised something. 'Hang on, Perrier? My health insurance doesn't cover this!'
'Oh, of course it does!' The nurse said. 'Your husband made sure you had only the best treatment while you were here.'
'Oh, okay... Wait, no, hang on – My husband?'
'Yes...'
'I'm not married.'
'Oh, I'm sure you are. Yes, he came in yesterday to drop off those flowers, then he came round and thanked all the staff on this ward for taking such good care of you.'
'What? I can't be married!'
'Oh dear. You have no recollection of any husband?'
'No!'
'Hold on a minute, honey, I'm gonna go fetch a doctor.' She hurried out again, returning in about ten seconds with a tired but friendly looking doctor.
'Hello, Rachel, I'm Doctor Ripley. Could you answer a few questions for me please?'
'Okay.'
'What is your name?'
'Rachel Berry.'
'Okay, who is the president of the USA?'
'George Bush.'
'Oh... Mrs. Berry, could you tell me what date it is today?'
Okay, if that audition I had was yesterday, that would make it... 'July 18th, 2008.'
'Oh my. Mrs. Berry, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but today is August 12th, 2013.'
'What? Doctor, you can't mess with me in my fragile state, this isn't funny, and I will sue!' She babbled.
'Hang on...' The nurse reached under Rachel's bedside table and retrieved a newspaper. She handed it to Rachel, whose eyes immediately flicked up to the date in the corner.
August 12th 2013. She looked at the headline.
President Obama institutes new health law.
President Obama? Who was he? She glanced at the picture.
'Is this the president?' she pointed. The nurse nodded. 'But he's... hot! How did that happen?'
'He's very good, too!' the nurse started animatedly, before being silenced by the doctor.
'Mrs. Berry, one more question; how old are you?'
'I'm 24-' Wait. I was 24 in 2008 when the whole thing happened... 2013... 'I'm 29? What the Hell... I'm old!'
It's probably a little OOC but hey, you wouldn't be yourself either!
Just to clarify, this has changed ages a bit. So just roll with it, I can't be bothered to explain, it works easier if you know that Glee etc. still happened, but earlier than the dates in the TV show.
Just let me know if something doesn't add up and I'll try and make sense of it!
Reviews make me happy!
JTPH
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