A/N: Wow! I'm blown away by the response I'm getting to this fic. Much thanks to all of you who have reviewed, favorited, and alerted.
For those of you commenting on how fast I'm updating, I started planning this fic a few months ago and the major events are mostly written, so I'm not writing nearly as fast as you think I am. But finishing off chapters is addictive, especially with such great feedback. This latest chapter is a lot more choppy, unfortunately, but stages must be set.

Also, while this isn't a sequel to my earlier fic "Best Christmas Ever", there are a few little touches (tiny bonuses for the faithful, or just consistent minor elements) that hearken back to BCE.

On Tuesday Finn found himself getting bored again, he needed something to do. He went for a run, starting to get himself back into shape after the inaction of being in hospital, and he tracked down Puck who was out cleaning pools, but he needed something more regular. So, after Puck had teased him about being idle and potentially broke with no income, he decided to drop by the tire shop to see Burt.

Burt was happy to find out that Finn wanted to give the shop a try, and showed him the basics. Finn had changed tires before, he used to do it for his mom, so he was soon at it without any difficulty. One of the older men was checking his work, but that was understandable, and as far as Finn could tell nothing had to be corrected. The other guys obviously knew him and welcomed him back, but they didn't push him about anything.

Finn got into the routine at the tire shop pretty quickly. So far he was just changing tires, but that was okay; it was simple and straightforward, and he could lose himself in the mechanical movement of it and didn't have to think. It also helped that at the shop he wore a coverall with his name on it. Sure, many of the people that he didn't recognize who called him by name probably knew him from before, but if he got twitchy about that he could glance down at the name on his chest and convince himself that maybe they were just reading it.

Still, every so often someone would look at him a little more strongly, and he knew that this was someone he'd known. The strongest of these happened on the third day he was at the shop, Thursday, he'd just finished putting a new rear tire on a red Ford when he turned and saw a man standing just at the edge of the shop entrance, staring at him. An older man, well dressed, middle height and light to medium frame, with dark hair, a grim expression, and dark eyes that were fixed so intensely on him that Finn was surprised he hadn't felt his back smoke while he'd been working. Finn looked over at the man, seeing his frown, and flinched involuntarily. He had no idea who this was, as a longshot it might be the owner of the Ford but he doubted it, he was ahead of schedule. He lowered his head for a moment and looked back up, finding the man still there, but as soon as Finn started to walk in the direction of the entrance, the man turned sharply away and left.

Somebody had wanted to check up on him, clearly, and whoever it was wasn't happy but didn't want to talk to him. But Finn had forgotten almost three years. While he hated to think that he'd pissed anyone off that much, there was far too much time missing for him to have a chance to figure out what he'd done or who that man was.

Meanwhile, every few days he stopped by the Fabray place to see Quinn. They never did anything much, just hung out really, but being around her was familiar. Her father had left a couple of years before, something embarrassing that she clearly didn't want to talk about, and Finn helped out when a few things needed fixing. Quinn had also backed off a lot on her preachiness (probably hard to be holier-than-thou when you've had a kid at sixteen) which got rid of that awkwardness. He didn't tell his mom that he visited Quinn, though, since from what Quinn had said his mother wouldn't be accepting.

It was a simple routine, nothing special and probably pretty dull, but it filled his time and helped him feel like he could cope and was doing something.

Friday night Burt took him to see the Reds host the Brewers. It was great being at a real major league game, at a real ballpark, and everything else melted away for Finn as he got into the game and the crowd. He preferred to watch football, with basketball a second choice since he'd played a lot of both, but that baseball crowd was something special. Yeah he knew from what he'd been told that he'd been before, that this wasn't the first time he and Burt had gone to a game, but he easily put that aside and soaked up the atmosphere.

Burt was recognized by a few people in the stands, constituents, and he talked to them for a while about the usual sort of things (life, family, work, what could make things easier for them, problems with how things were run in D.C.). He seemed to be a good representative, caring about other people, and really easy to talk to. His mom had found a good man, Finn decided.

The next Monday Finn had his first appointment with his shrink. It was just a check-in, mostly, ensuring that Finn was writing his log and was managing at home. So the shrink nodded at him, encouraged him to continue, and was particularly pleased that he'd gone back to work at the tire shop.

"Trying too hard to remember is a problem, but many things may naturally trigger memories," Finn was told. "Being in a place where you might run into those things, without having pressure on you, that's good."

The pressure he'd felt before was starting to ease as he got more used to things and ensured that he kept familiar stuff around him. Finn's day-to-day life was starting to develop a simple pattern that he found comfortable, and he was starting to relax more. He kept up his log, but there really wasn't much in it, since he didn't notice anything that seemed to be part of his lost memory. But that seemed to be fine.

Wednesday night Finn went to a Halo marathon at Puck's. Their current team was four, with Mike and Artie in addition to Finn and Puck, and the guys all welcomed him back.

There had been a few changes at the Puckerman place, most notably that Puck had co-opted one of the downstairs rooms as his. It had more space than his old bedroom upstairs, so they could all fit in there to play, even with Artie's wheelchair and Finn's long legs. It was cramped with them all in there but it felt good. Gaming was familiar, easy, no pressure beyond the game itself.

But Finn was surprised when, after pizza, Puck pulled out a sequel he didn't know, Halo:Reach.

"I thought we were sticking with Halo 3," Finn protested.

"Oh come on, kid," Puck said. "This is our main game for this team."

"Kid? Really?" Finn stared over at his friend. He was pretty sure he'd never have put up with this from Puck, not ever. "You're just a few months older, and you call me kid?"

"Really." Puck smirked. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen-year-old Finn Hudson plays Reach. So get with it." With that, Puck threw the remaining game controller at Finn. Finn caught it, frowned at first, but started to play as he listened to the instructions Mike gave him. It was different, but he soon adjusted and was able to contribute to the team effort.

An hour later they took a break, and Puck cracked open a beer for himself, offering Finn one too.

"Ah, no thanks," Finn said, waving it away. He frowned. "Did I?"

"You mean did your mom's anti-alcohol lectures eventually wear off? No," Puck said. "You make a great designated driver, most of the time, and the one time you drank on Halo night you couldn't play worth shit, though that started even before we hit the beer. I just thought I'd give you the option, if you wanted to this time."

"'This time'?"

"Finn 2.0. Or 1.1 actually."

"What's the difference?"

"1.1 would be younger. Kid."

Finn rolled his eyes, and looked around the room to distract himself from Puck's age putdowns. There were a lot of certificates up on the shelves by his desk, which didn't seem like Puck.

Puck saw Finn's attention on them. "Reminds me I can do something," he said shortly.

Finn went closer. Most of them were for Glee, Sectional wins and Regional wins and a fancy one for the National championship. Some had little pictures stuck in front of them, a low-quality still of Puck performing a solo bit. The other people around him weren't fully visible, though Finn didn't look too closely. And at the end of the shelf, a plaque with a picture of a football: McKinley Titans, Champions, 2011.

Finn's stomach fell. "You guys actually won?" he said with disbelief, not just that it had been possible but that he'd missed it.

"Us guys," Mike emphasized, coming up behind Finn. "You too."

"I guess... it just feels like I missed it, like after all that time playing together you won without me."

Puck groaned and shook his head. "Dude, you've gotta stop thinking like the stuff you don't remember didn't happen to you. Your mom must have your game MVP trophy somewhere."

"MVP?" Finn turned to face Puck, agape. Do I want to hear about this? he thought. It's great, but won't the details screw up my memory even more?

"Yep. Might not have been my choice, yeah you won the game for us but we almost couldn't play it at all -"

"No details, please," Finn interjected.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." Puck frowned. "Anyway, it happened. You were there. Don't hear about it if you think that'll be a problem for you, but that doesn't change it one bit. You didn't miss a thing."

"Huh."

"Hey, we should get back to the game," Artie called out. "If we want to finish it tonight."

"Continue on Saturday?" Finn asked.

"Can't, it's date night," Mike replied. "The really good date night."

"Really good?"

"Tina's parents have their date night on Saturday too."

"That's... weird," Finn commented.

"What? No, we don't double date, why would you think that," Mike retorted. "But they go out, and then we have the house to ourselves." He grinned. "So no way do I exchange that for spending Saturday night with you guys. You're not all usually available anyway, or you weren't."

"No?"

"You're engaged, Finn," Artie put in.

Finn frowned at this reminder. "What, did she keep me in line or something?"

Puck laughed hard and long at this.

"How is that so freaking funny, Puckerman?" Finn asked, annoyed.

"I doubt she even had to try," Puck smirked. "You were even less likely to give up your date nights than Chang here. I asked once and you just gave me some wacky grin and shook your head."

"'Some wacky grin'?" Finn couldn't see himself doing that. He tried to give them a grin.

"Yep. But no, not like that," Puck said. "It was kinda special."

Artie sighed as Finn tried again. "Look, you're not going to be able to do it," he said. "It's one of those 'meaningful but I'm not telling you why' facial expressions, and you won't know what it means anymore. And you said you don't want to think about this stuff, so can we get back to the game please? Since we can't continue on Saturday?"

Finn was uncomfortable with the topic anyway, so he let the matter drop, and they returned to the game.

Now that he was working part-time at the tire shop, Finn found he was going through shampoo and body wash quickly. Warned that under absolutely no circumstances was he to ever use any of Kurt's (which was apparently really expensive to replace), he stopped by the drugstore on his way home from the shop late Thursday afternoon.

He also needed more sunscreen, he remembered; he'd found his existing bottle had been smashed a bit and had started to leak. He got that quickly, and the shampoo, but the body wash manufacturers had a wide range. He spotted the stuff he remembered he used to use, before, as well as the stuff he'd been using since he got out of the hospital, and wasn't sure whether he wanted to stick with the new stuff or revert to the old. The new stuff hadn't existed back then, so it wasn't like he'd rejected it before, and it might be more, kind of, manly, even if it wasn't as familiar. He sniffed at both of them, still undecided.

He was at the end of the aisle close to the pharmacy at the back of the store, and as he considered his options, he heard the pharmacist talking to a customer.

"So you've been taking these for just over six months, that's a good time to check in," the pharmacist said. "Have things been going smoothly?"

Kind of nosy I guess, Finn thought idly, though I suppose they check on these things for medical reasons. But he became much more drawn to the pharmacist's advising when he heard the voice that replied.

"Yes, I haven't noticed any significant problems." That was Rachel, wasn't it? Apparently on some sort of long-term medication? Finn sidled closer, curious and a little shocked.

"Are you on any additional medication that you weren't before?"

"No." Her voice was formal, tightly controlled.

"How about any side effects or physical changes, have you experienced any?" the pharmacist continued.

"Just a few at first, the usual, but it settled down very quickly," she said. "I don't feel physically different from before I started taking them, the adjustment was about as smooth as could be expected, I think."

"That's great. I see by the refills on the new prescription that your doctor has similar confidence. Just read the insert, make note of anything that might be a relevant side effect, and bring it to your doctor's attention."

"I will."

"And ensure you continue to take it consistently, no exceptions."

"Of course. Thank you."

It wouldn't do for her to see him here, Finn realized, especially not in a place where he could hear her. Finn made a quick decision on the body wash – the new stuff had been working just fine so far, stick with it – and strode down the aisle towards the front, hoping to turn into the next one so she wouldn't see him.

Which naturally meant that he ran straight into her when he turned. Shit. He put a hand out to brace her, but quickly pulled it back once she steadied herself.

Rachel looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Oh." In shock, or was that fear? He couldn't tell. She was certainly trying to hide her full prescription bag, her arm curling around it defensively. "Hello, Finn," she said, trying to give him a smile.

His eyes followed the movement of her arm and saw the ring that still sparkled on her hand. He frowned and abruptly turned his head away, recoiling in reflex from that reminder of the life he didn't know and the man he was supposed to be but wasn't. He moved enough so she saw his reaction; he heard her single half-strangled sob and looked down at her to see tears glitter in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, not liking to see her hurt. "But I'm not who you need me to be, not now." He wasn't sure why she was still wearing the ring.

"How do you know who I need you to be," Rachel forced out, her voice pained, her face tight.

"I'm not him, I'm not the Finn you know. I'm sorry," he repeated, turning away from her. He knew he was hurting her but he couldn't help it, he couldn't be the man she was engaged to, he didn't remember any of that. Maybe he should just leave, he'd found what he came for. A heave of sudden indrawn breath drew his attention back to her, however, as she started to gasp repeatedly, maybe hyperventilating, and he wanted to help, he couldn't leave her like this... but he was the problem, he was why she was upset, he had to leave. He must seem like such an imposter to her. He raised his hand reflexively towards her shoulder, but caught himself before he touched her. He stepped further back, uncertain, and was relieved to see that the pharmacist had seen her distress and was coming.

He should go. Yes. Now. "I'm sorry," he muttered again, and went to the front of the store. He was tempted to just drop his intended purchases and leave, but the line was short. He hardly saw the cashier, his mind still on the girl he'd left behind him.

"Are you going to be okay? Miss?" he heard the pharmacist say.

Rachel's reply was muffled at first. Then he heard her say "Thank you, but there's nothing you can do."

Finn paid, grabbed his bag, and got out of there as fast as he could. He tried to put it out of his mind; he was sorry about the situation but didn't see what he could do about it.

Saturday he had lunch over at Quinn's, and then he went back into town with her as she ran some errands. One of these was at her church, which lay next to the park that also adjoined a seniors center and the local synagogue. Finn parked the car on the far side of the park and escorted her across to the church, walking with her on the path that wound around the pond in the middle. The weather was beautiful, sunny with just a few clouds, and he enjoyed the walk.

"Did we do this?" Finn asked her after a few minutes. "Walk like this, I mean."

"No," Quinn answered matter-of-factly. "We were both just too busy, I suppose. Not our sort of thing." She looked quizzically at him. "But you remember that."

"Well, sure, we didn't when I remember us going out, but we went out longer, so we might have later. I just wondered. It's nice." He gave her a smile. He looked over at the rest of the park, at the pond with the ducks, the trees, seeing all the other people out for walks and picnics, kids playing, families, couples walking hand-in-hand... he took a deep breath and felt himself relax. This was really good. He took Quinn's hand in his as they continued to walk along.

He waited outside the church while Quinn dropped off the package she'd brought, and then took her hand again for the walk back.

"Thank you for keeping me company, Finn," Quinn said as they slowly made their way back around the pond. "Having you along makes running these errands a lot less hectic."

"Just returning the favor," Finn replied. She stopped and looked at him, a question in her eyes. "It's like – you're the only person other than Puck who looks at me and just sees what's there," Finn explained quietly, standing close to her. "Everyone else always seems to be noticing what I'm not, that I'm not that other Finn they expect. Even Puck, sometimes. You don't, you seem to be fine with the old me. It's nice." He smiled at her. "Comfortable." He cupped her face. "Thank you."

Quinn looked into Finn's eyes, affected by how close they were. He looked back at her and felt his heart beat a little faster, the distance between their faces closing quickly as they sank into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and they embraced tightly.

Unknown to them, they were in full view of the Jewish congregation leaving the synagogue next to that end of the park, and especially of a certain pair of deep brown eyes that rapidly filled with tears.

After a while they pulled apart, Finn smiling down at Quinn. Quinn's smile was more hesitant, however. "Aren't we getting carried away, Finn?" she asked.

"Maybe," Finn said quietly, but he took her hand. "This is comfortable, though."

"You know I'm going away to Yale in a few weeks."

"I know. But that's then, not now." They walked quietly together for a while longer, Finn wondering what things would be like if his life was more in keeping with how he remembered it. "Quinn..." he said eventually.

"Yes?"

"If I'd been in the hospital when we were together, like if the accident had happened back when I thought it was..."

"At the beginning of sophomore year?"

"Yeah." He glanced over at her, then off into the distance. "What would you have done?"

"Well of course I would have visited you," Quinn said.

"Well yeah."

"I don't understand."

"I was stuck in there for a while, for observation and tests, you wouldn't have been able to be there all the time," Finn tried to explain.

"Of course not, I would have had school and Cheerios and all that," she replied. "But you occupied yourself, didn't you?"

"Mostly. I had some stuff to look at and do."

"Well that would help. And I'm sure I could have had some things for you, Puck would know what you needed just as he did now." She smiled. "I would have edited his suggestions, of course, I'm sure your family did too."

"Uh... yeah, I guess." But Finn frowned a little, looking off into the trees; he'd seen Puck's response to Finn's games and magazines that had been brought in for him, and it had been approval, not recognition. Puck hadn't had anything to do with it even though he'd obviously agreed with the choices. And Finn had liked the choices too, he hadn't changed that much. But of course Quinn wasn't really interested in those sorts of things.

Still... Finn shook his head, and refocused on here and now and the girl next to him.