A/N: This one's shortish. I don't know why, but these ones are coming out faster than the others so I present you all with another chapter. It's also a little short, but I hope you still like it.

We drove in silence with random taps from Finn's fingers on the steering wheel every few seconds. I felt impossibly tired from my freak out earlier and was wondering how they were dealing with it back at the school.

"They're probably gonna call the cops," I said aloud.

"What? Why?" He screamed, "What did you tell them?"

"I didn't have to tell them anything, your actions spoke loud enough. Plus what was I suppose to say? That I think Finn might have murdered me then brought me back to life?"

"You think I murdered you?" Finn asked, voice high pitched and squeaky, "Quinn? How could you think that?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. We haven't been the most honest with each in the past. The whole thing with me and that blond guy and when you fooled around with... Rachel? Did you fool around with Rachel?"

"Not necessarily," Finn turned to me for a second then back at the road, "You remember that?"

"I guess," I sighed, "Maybe my nagging and bitching and infidelities made you so mad that one night you decided to end it. Was I that bad? That horrible to you?"

Finn stopped the car abruptly and turned to look at me, "I don't understand how you could think that. Quinn, I love you no matter what. No matter what you ever did, it never changed. That's why I stayed with you. That's why I brought you back."

"Maybe I didn't want to come back."

"You don't mean that," Finn said as he unbuckled his seat belt and jumped out the car. I hadn't even noticed we had stopped in front of a house. It was huge and bright and unfamiliar. To my surprise, out popped the boy from Finn's room with a huge grin on his face as he greeted Finn.

Finn said a few words to him before pointing to me. As the boy began to approached I immediately felt sick to my stomach and wanted to jump out the car and strangle him, but I was exhausted so I stayed in the car gripping tightly to my seat belt.

He opened the car door and gave me a wining smile, "Hey, Quinn how are yah?"

"Fuck off," I snarled and it felt more familiar than anything I've said all day.

"Feisty," the boy the laughed before turning to Finn, "I see what you mean."

"You don't think that the devil possessed her when we brought her back, do you?" Finn said worriedly.

"I doubt it. I think this is how Quinn has always been."

"I'm right fucking here," I commented.

"She cussing a lot more than before, Karofsky," Finn whined and my eyes squinted away from him. So this is that Dave guy, I should have guessed.

I looked at Dave and gave him my most menacing look, which was actually really easy since apparently I wear that look every day or something. He was the one who gave Finn this dumb idea and here he is giving me a smile like he just won the title of Ms. America.

"Dave," I whispered, "I'm going to beat the living shit out of you."

I didn't care why I felt like this, but I did care about the way his face fell like he was actually afraid. I didn't know how I use to be, but I guessed my threats weren't something to play with.

He let out hiss through his teeth, "Right."

He shut the door and turned back to Finn. They talked a bit more, mostly with their hands before I got bored and stared through the windshield. I had to admit that it was a nice day, a nice day in.. uh. Where ever we were.

It reminded me of when I was younger and my parents would take me to the park. I remembered that they both had blonde hair just like me. Well, if I was really blonde. I combed my fingers through my hair as I remembered how my mother would always braid it before I would go off to play in the swing sets. She would hum a song and say the same thing to me every time: "A woman must look her best no matter the situation, Quinnie." Then she would send me off and I would always come back with the most messiest hair.

I wondered why we had stopped going to the park.

My thoughts were interrupted with Finn jumping into the car and slamming the door. He gave me a look and I folded my arms and turned away.

"I don't like that Dave-guy," I muttered as we began to drive away.

"You never did," Finn laughed to himself as he turned a corner.

We returned back to Finn's place and he tried to occupy me by giving me loads of books that looked more than familiar. It was maybe eight at night when Finn's door bell rang. He ran to go get it as i stayed on his bed reading a book that I knew I've read before.

It was only a couple seconds before the bedroom door flew open and a guy ran in with Finn struggling behind him.

The guy wore a leather jacket and had a weird mohawk thing shaved on his head. I couldn't place his face for the life of me, but the way he looked at me made my breathe catch. Did I know him?

"Quinn," he smiled, "Sorry I didn't get to see you at school today. If I knew you were going I would have gone too."

I looked over to Finn for some kind explanation for this reunion and he stuttered a response, "Qu-Quinn hasn't been feeling well."

"I didn't think she did," the guy responded without taking his eyes off me.

"It's contagious," Finn stepped in front of the guy.

"Then why isn't she at home?" The guy challenged.

"Look, Puck-"

"Puck." I recognized out loud. His name made me taste a mixer of nostalgia and regret and nausea. But mostly nausea as I stood up suddenly and rushed into the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and rested my back against it. I could hear them both murmuring behind the door and it made me feel claustrophobic. I didn't understand what I was feeling but I needed to get out fast.

I looked around and spotted my only escape, the window. I ran to it, opened it as far as it could, and jumped feet first without another thought. I hit the ground hard, but bounced into a comfortable position before I started jogging. I knew, if I was really who I was, than my feet would take me home. It should be in my subconscious or something.

Minutes passed before I stood at the front porch of a house. It looked so familiar and my feet took me here, so this had to be the place. This had to be my home. I pressed my finger against the door bell and waited for someone to come. I didn't have to wait long and I placed a cool hand against my hot face as a confused Santana in pajamas opened the door.

"This isn't my house is it." I stated as I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.

"No," Santana said hesitantly as she pointed across the way, "Your house is across the street."

I looked to the house and didn't recognize it, then turned back to Santana and tried to not to cry, "Shoot. So close."

"Quinn," she began to say something then changed her mind, "Do you want to come in?"

I knew that I probably had to get home sometime, but being here felt ten times better, "Yes, please."

Santana made room for me to come in and I made my way up the stairs as I slowly remembered where her room was. Once inside her room I sat down on her bed and rubbed the comforter underneath me. Santana stood in front of me, arms crossed and I probably would have seen a concerned look on her face if I wasn't looking at the ground.

"It smells like cinnamon," I said aloud.

Santana shrugged, "Sorry?"

"Don't be, you always smell like cinnamon."

"Is that a bad thing?"

I smiled and looked at her. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she was giving me a look that I remember her always using when she wanted to know something.

She sighed and sat next to me before asking, "What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on," I lied.

"Don't lie to me."

I shifted uncomfortably at how she easily she was getting me to talk, "I got hurt."

"I know. I saw the bruises on your neck at school. Did Finn do that?"

I shrugged, "He said he didn't."

"What? Don't you remember?"

I shook my head and turned completely away. It was quiet between us as she analyzed what I told her and I had a thought that she was probably going to check out and tell me to deal with it on my own or something.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" She finally asked.

"I don't remember."

"I know, but like-"

"No, Santana," I turned back to her as a tear fell out my eye, "I don't remember anything. My last name. Where I live. What my parents look like. I don't even know who I am."

I closed my eyes as my head began to hurt again, this time wasn't like the others. It was a kind of hurt that came before I usually cried and it was a feeling that my body seemed to know well. Before I could fully cry, a pair of arms hugged me and pulled me into an embrace. I laid my head on Santana's shoulders as I shook and cried while she hushed and tired to comfort me the best she could.

"It's okay, Quinn," Santana said as she hugged tighter, "I don't know what's going on, but it's gonna be okay. Kay?"

Hope you liked it!