A/N: Once again, I want to first thank all of you for reading this. It's really nice. It's actual too nice. Extremely too nice. Way too extremely very nice.

Another thing, I noticed some of the comments that were all like, "I'm so confused," and I was all like "Baby, so is Quinn. It's okay." So in this chapter, there's gonna be a few smarties coming by to help us all figure some stuff out.

Lastly, all mistakes are mine and I don't own Glee. Like at all. No credit there.

I was glad that I got to skip an entire day of school. When I had returned home, my mother was there and I guess my face must have shown how upset I was because the next day she let me stay home. She said it was so that I could help set up for my father's birthday dinner later that evening, but I beg to differ as she hadn't let me help with anything all day.

I sat on my porch and ran my hands through my hair. Maybe Santana was right, maybe I was becoming old Quinn again. Was it really a bad thing?

I felt a hand on my back and looked up to see it was Judy's. I smiled at her as she sat next to me.

She rubbed my back, "What's wrong, Quinnie-bear."

I would have flinched from the nickname, but I was way too sad to, "You're my mom right?"

"Last I checked," she smiled.

"So you can't turn your back on me, right?"

Her rubbing stopped in mid motion, "You're not pregnant again, are you?"

"No," I sighed.

"Good," She continued her rubbing.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm in-love with Santana," I said and looked at her to gauge her reaction. She just smiled and looked across the street.

"Oh, that's it?" She laughed, "I thought it was something serious."

I furrowed my brows, "Is that not serious?"

"I wouldn't think so," Judy looked to the sky then back to me, "Does she love you back?"

I bit my lip, "I don't remember."

"Well, I'm sure she does."

"Okay," I said unsure, "Then what do I do now?"

"Sometimes, Quinnie," She shook her head disappointingly, "Just tell her how you feel. Clear communication is the key to almost any problem."

"It couldn't be that easy," I looked away, "What if she doesn't want me back?"

"Of course she does," Judy patted me on the back as she started to get up,

"You've got those great Fabray jeans, Quinnie. We've always got the boys and girls swooning all over us."

She walked away and I shook my head.

"Hey, Quinn!" I looked up to see a certain blonde walk up to me.

I smiled as she sat next to me on the porch, "Hey, Britt."

Brittany kicked her legs out in front of her, "You didn't come to school today."

I shook my head, "Didn't feel like it. Did I miss anything?"

"Well, Rachel was looking for you all day so that she could say sorry or something and Santana was grumpier than usual."

I sighed, "I should really apologize to Rachel, not other way around."

She suddenly giggled, "Just imagine her face when you say sorry. You've never done that for her."

I looked down at the pavement. That only made me feel worse.

"I know!" She slapped my knee making me jump my eyes up to her, "Lets go do something."

"I can't," I gestured to the house behind us, "My father is having a birthday dinner."

"We'll be back before that, I promise," Brittany stood up then faced me, "I'm gonna help you remember."

I cracked another smile, "Sure, whatever. Let's go."

She pulled me up to my feet and skipped as she lead us down the sidewalk.

It took awhile before we reached anything and she pulled me over to a ice cream shop, "We're gonna start with the easy stuff first."

We walked into the shop and the smell hit me first. I took a deep inhale, "So what do you want me to remember?"

"What's you're favorite flavor?" She pointed at the menu. When I shrugged she shook me by the shoulders, "Just pick what you feel, Q."

I look up at the menu and blurted out, "Chocolate."

"Okay, two chocolates," she ordered then sat us down once we got the treat. I took a spoonful first and decided that maybe I was right, "Here comes a harder part. Ready?"

"Ready," I responded through mouthfuls.

"One time we came here, you, me, and Santana, to get ice cream after Cheerios and we saw Puck here. It was the only time we had ever seen him here. What happened?"

I furrowed my brows at her, "I don't know."

"Of course you know, just don't try to remember so hard. Just let it flow through like a baby river in your brain."

I bit my lip but immediately stopped. I needed to stop thinking so hard. So I swallowed hard and my mouth moved on its own accord, "Was it that time he was buying tons of ice cream to play a prank on the mathletes and tried to look cool in from of us, but instead tripped and fell on top of all the ice cream he bought?"

Brittany giggled and ate a spoon full of ice cream, "Yep."

I sat back against my chair, "How did you do that?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. You just think too hard or keep stuff in, so I thought maybe letting it out might help."

I rubbed my head, bewildered that it didn't hurt, "It did help."

"I know, I'm a genius," she stood up from her chair and threw away her now empty cup of ice cream, "Wanna try some more?"

I nodded my head as I followed her lead before walking out if the shop.

She lead us back down the way we came from while connecting random things to my memories. Like how a squirrel reminded Brittany of Lord Tubbington and I remembered the time that horrible cat shredded my homework for Social Studies when we were in 7th grade.

Or how a bottle on the street helped me remember the days we all would sit outside Santana's house and drink Coke until my father came home or it was getting close to Brittany's curfew.

Or even how our simple walk reminded me of my first date with Finn and how his mom couldn't pick us up from our movie so we had to walk all the way home. He held my hand and kissed me on the cheek and though he annoyed me to the core, I had decided that night that his annoyingness had a charm to it.

We had reached my street and stopped, but I gave Brittany a confused look because we had stopped in front of Santana's house, "Why did we stop here?"

"Because we spend a lot of time here," Brittany said distantly as she gazed up at the house, then looked at me with a smile, "How else can we help you remember?"

"I don't think she would want to see me," I voiced because I honestly didn't think she would.

"Of course she would! She always wants to see you," she locked her arm with mine, "I want you to remember one thing first."

"What?" I breathed out nervously.

"That summer, before freshmen year, when I was gone," Brittany said as she guided us up the porch steps.

I looked down and smiled as the memory began to pour out of me, "I remember. We were so sad that you couldn't hang out. We were upset about it all summer. But we tried to make the most of it. We hung out all the time, everywhere and anywhere. The more we hung out, the more I wanted to see her. It was so stupid because more than half the time we were fighting. It was mostly about stupid things, places and people. But it was never serious. Actually, I think the only reason I fought with her was because I was so mad. How can she be so... So fucking gorgeous all of the time?"

"You're preaching to the choir," Brittany mutters as she rings the doorbell.

I shifted my feet, "I don't think we should be here. She probably doesn't want to talk to me."

"Of course she does," Brittany smiled at the door as it opened and a confused Santana was behind it.

"Britt? Quinn?" She asked but changed her demeanor quickly to annoyed, "What are you guys doing here?"

"We need to come in," Brittany said as she walked past Santana into her house and she dragged me in by the arm. She stopped us by the stairway and turned to me, "What does this remind you of?"

I shrugged, "Santana's stairs."

"No, that's what it is," she laughed because it was so obvious, "What does it remind you of?"

"What are you guys doing?" Santana walked over to us and folded her arms.

"Helping Q remember," Brittany said.

"You're remembering?" Santana asked me and nodded my head, "And your head's okay?"

"Yeah, Brittany found a way," I smiled and she smiled back and I almost hugged her because this was our first conversation in days.

"Stairway," Brittany reminded and I turned my attention back to the stairs.

"Right, okay," I looked at the carpeted stairs and examined their eggshell color. I had always hated that color.

I remembered one day Santana and I were arguing about Cheerio routines and I couldn't think of an adequate insult. So I insulted her carpet as we were walking up the stairs. She had turned to me and doubled over in laughter and immediately told me that if we ever get into another fight I should just mention the stairs and she'd know that we needed to make up.

I also remembered that particular stair from when we had sex on it after a different practice. It was a spur of the moment thing and left a rug burn on the back of my legs for weeks.

"Did you remember anything?" Santana asked.

I cleared my throat and looked to the floor, "Nope."

"Ah, man," Brittany sighed as she began to walk through the house, "We were doing so good."

Santana and I gave a funny look before following the blonde who lead us into the kitchen as she grabbed a soda out of the fridge. She handed me the soda and pulled out her phone and began typing away silently.

I inspected the can, confused on why I had it, and Santana tried to get Brittany's attention, "What are you doing now?"

"Trying to get reinforcement. Is that how you say it, Quinn?" I looked up from the can and nodded my head and she smiled, "Good. Trying to get reinforcement to help Quinn remember."

"There's really no need," I commented as I placed the soda on the counter, "I already remembered a lot. That should be good for today."

"Not even," Brittany picked up the soda and passed it back to me, "Those weren't even the memories I was trying to get you remember."

"What memories are you trying to get me to remember?" I asked as I set the soda back on the counter.

"What did you mean by reinforcement?" Santana asked and I had been meaning to ask that, too.

A ring at the door shifted our attentions as Brittany handed me the soda again and said, "That's what I mean."

She walked away and I set the soda back on the counter, "Why does she keep giving me this?"

"I don't know. What is she even up to?" Santana asked back and I shrugged.

We looked toward Brittany who had walked back into the kitchen but was now accompanied by someone.

"What the fuck, Rachel? What are you doing in my house?" Santana questioned.

Rachel put up her hands in surrender, "I'm here to help Quinn."

"I don't need your help," I blurted out but quickly retraced, "Sorry. I don't mean that. Well, I kind of do, but I meant to say it in a nicer way."

"That's okay Quinn," Rachel walked over to me, "A couple days ago, my ex- boyfriend Jesse, you probably don't remember him, came by to talk to me at school and now he wont leave me alone. So I've realized that though you irrationally yelled at me after my amazing performance for you, you are not as insane as I thought you were when you had did it. He had called me earlier this morning to remind me what true mental problems were," She grimaced then gave me a wide smile, "But any-who, I learned all about amnesia victims last night, so I know that you were not lashing out at me per se. You were lashing out at the fact that you can't remember. Which is why I'm here."

"I can't believe I just listened to all of that," Santana said astonished.

"So, quickly, forgive me so that we can work on helping you remember," Rachel commanded with a motion of her hand.

I folded my arms and walked away. i just couldn't do it. I really don't think I like Rachel. I walked into the living room and sat on one of the couches. Everyone followed, including Santana who looked pissed.

"What is this? A party?" She questioned as everyone sat down, "Who are we gonna invite next? Puckermen?"

"Do you want me to invite Puck?" Brittany asked.

"No, Britt," Santana responded and I'm glad she did because Brittany was already pulling out her phone.

"Look, Quinn," Rachel started and I sighed, "Tell us everything that you remember."

"No," I immediately said and I sighed at myself for being so stubborn, "I'm sorry, Rachel. I just don't want to tell you, specifically you, anything. In a nice way."

"That's fine," she sat back against the couch, "Why don't you tell Santana then?"

Santana let out a disapproving sound and I shook my head, "No, thanks."

"Wait," Santana piped up, now offended, "Why not?"

"I don't know," I looked at the floor, then the ceiling, then the wall feeling nervous all of a sudden, "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Even with me," she said even more offended, "I thought we were friends."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Of course I'm serious. You're the one here treating me like nothing other than Berry."

"I'll try not to take that as offense," Rachel commented more to herself.

"Could you guys not fight and just help Quinn remember," Brittany said.

"I'm trying but Quinn doesn't want my help," Santana whined.

"She doesn't want anyone's help," Rachel added.

"Come on, Q," Brittany looked at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, fine," I gave up, "What do you want me to remember.?"

"Do you remember anything about the night you died?" Santana said.

"Um," I tried to think.

"How about the first time you and Finn kissed." Rachel asked more excitedly than normal.

"What, why?" I asked confused.

"How about the first time you realized you were in love with Santana," Brittany said and we all looked at her, "I'm sure that one's buried deep, so if we get to that one, we can get to any one."

"Britt, that memory doesn't exist," Santana said bitterly.

"Sure it does," Brittany shook her head at Santana, clearly knowing more than the Latina at that moment, "Tell us about it, Q."

I bit my lip. That memory more than exists, I could literally feel it trying to pop onto the end of my tongue. But there was that feeling again, the one were I wanted to run away from the problem because admitting something like this was only going to hurt me. That feeling was stronger than the memory for sure.

I shrugged my shoulders, "There's no such memory."

It was quiet between us all as I watched each of their faces. Rachel seemed annoyed, Brittany was disappointed, and Santana looked just plain hurt but tried to cover it with indifference. Always back to indifference with her.

I rubbed my eyes with my palms and groaned, "Oh my god, I'm lying! There's a memory but I cant say what it is."

A few breathes were let go in the room but only Santana voiced anything, "So, what. Now you're having fake memories?"

"No," I looked at her and her eyes went wide and I tried my best to read her mind, but in all she just looked scared.

"Why can't you say what it is?" Rachel asked.

I looked at her, "Cause I wont let me. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Brittany said slowly.

"I guess I get it," Rachel analyzed, "Quinn has always been very protective of her feelings and revealing them to us would be a monumental change in how she use to be."

"There are no feelings," Santana commented, "Tell them, Quinn. You told me yourself that you had none for me. You may not remember when you said that, but you did."

"I must have been lying then, too," I thought aloud.

"Then it's settled," Brittany clapped her hands, startling us all, "Quinn yelled at Rachel cause she didn't want everyone to know what she was feeling, Santana yelled at Quinn because Quinn yelling at Rachel reminded her of the Quinn who broke her heart in which scared her, and Rachel continues to try to help Quinn because of the crush she either has on Finn or on Quinn."

We all sat quietly trying to piece together where Brittany got all that information from. Yes, my part was true, but she was still pulling this information out of thin air.

Then the blonde stood up, "Okay, well, I think its time for me and Rachel to go so that you two can talk."

She began to walk away and Rachel stood up frantically as the short brunette said, "I have some concerns on what you had said last."

They walked out the room and I inhaled because Brittany cleared the air better than I would have ever thought to have done.

"Britt really put us on blast, huh?" Santana said from the other couch.

I laughed, "Yeah."

She cleared her throat, "Sorry about yelling at you in the choir room yesterday. You didn't deserve it at the time."

"It's okay, I'm already over it," I responded honestly, "Can I ask you something though?"

"Sure, Q."

I leaned forward, "You like me back, right? Cause I wasn't planning on telling you that I had any type of feelings unless I knew you had some, too."

Santana's eyes shifted before looking back at me, "It's like a quarter of five."

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna miss your dad's birthday dinner," she stood up, "He'd be pissed if you missed it."

She couldn't be serious, "He can wait."

"No he can't. Now get your ass up an let me walk you to the door," she commanded with a smiled and I reluctantly obeyed.

We walked incredibly slow to the front door and I whined, "I'd rather stay here and talk or something."

She opened the door and gave me a serious look, "Look, Q. I'm not going to help you jeopardize all the hard work you did to recreate the bond with your dad just because we're talking again. Just go, be nice, and then come back after. We can talk or something then."

I smiled and decided between hugging her goodbye or just walking away. I opt with a wave as I sped walked to my house as the sun went down slowly and the breeze came in cooler.

I walked into my house and leaned on the closed door. It was warm and smelled like food, which is always a great welcome to a place that seemed more like someone else's house then my own.

"Lucy!" A deep male voice called and I flinched hard because it for sure wasn't my mother's voice.

I followed to where the voice called into the kitchen, where my mother stood over a counter chopping and mixing vegetables. Next to her, watching the woman work, was handsome blond man with a locked square jaw and eyes as green as my own. He was intimidating, even as he looked over to me and smiled, "Lucy."

It took me a while to respond, but I let out a cool, "Hey."

I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. Had I'd known that I was this parched earlier, maybe I would have drank that soda Brittany had offered me.

"Don't be rude," my mother chastised, "Give your father a hug."

He held out his arms expectedly and I took another chug of water, "I probably shouldn't, I'm coming down with a cold. I wouldn't want you to catch it."

He put down his arms, face a little disappointed, but my mother quickly intervened, "Quinn, would you please help me set the table."

"Of course, mother, " I said politely before taking the silverware into the dinning room. Well, it looked like a dinning room, so your guess is mine.

By the time the table was all set, the food was ready and we all sat. They talked and I listened. No, they talked and I imagined what I was going to say to Santana. I had some ideas like,

I wasn't truthful before. I mean I was telling the truth, but not the whole truth. Cause I don't just have feelings for you. I like love you. Or something. I think.

I probably should sound a bit more sure of myself if I tell her.

I love you or whatever. So fucking do something about it. Or don't. I don't care.

But I do care.

San, I'm just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking her to love her.

That actually sounds really familiar. Did I get that from somewhere?

"Lucy, are you listening?" My father interrupted and I almost rolled my eyes at him, "We were talking about when your sister is coming to visit. She told me that she misses you."

I have a sister?

"What do I expect? Just tell me about school," He said as he cut through his food.

I looked at Judy and she shrugged her shoulders so I responded, "Do you want to hear the good parts or the bad parts?"

He looked up from his plate and furrowed his brow, "Bad parts?"

Assuming that he wanted to hear the bad parts and wasn't just wondering why I suggested telling him the bad parts, I answered, "I lost my memory, found out I had a tool of a boyfriend, sort of got kicked off the cheerleading team, embarrassed myself in front my friends and classmates, and realized that I'm kind of worried about the glee team losing the big competition coming up."

My mother's eyebrow's went up and my father let out a laugh, "That's funny, Lucy. When did we get a comedian in the family? Looks like little Lucy finally found herself a talent."

He laughed as he shoveled in another mouthful and my mother whispered over to me, "Is that all true?"

"Let's hope not," he laughed again, "You've worked too damn hard to be kicked off that cheerleading team. You know, both your mother and your sister were captains of their cheerleading teams until the end of their senior year. That's some tough shoes to fill."

I dug my fork into my plate, "Was that all you heard? That I got kicked off the cheerleading team?"

"Well, honestly I wasn't listening in the beginning till you hit that part. You've embarrassed yourself before in front of your peers by getting yourself pregnant and well I frankly don't care about your glee club."

I shook my head and looked down at my food. I couldn't believe he just said that to me. He could have least pretended to care.

"Now about that cheerleading thing-" He started to say but I stopped him.

"I don't want to talk about the cheerleading thing," I snapped and his head whipped at me so fast that I thought it would have popped off and hit me, but instead of scaring me, it fueled me to say what I needed to say, "We've barely been having dinner for twenty minutes and you've insulted me at least four times. I don't know you that well, but obviously you must not know me well either if you can sit there and do that. So, you can continue eating and insulting me, but I'm going to have to leave you to it. Happy fucking birthday, stranger."

"Quinnie," Judy pleaded quietly, but I couldn't sit through a dinner like this. No wonder I was all messed up before I lost my memories. This guy probably did wonders on my self esteem.

"Sorry, mom," I stood up from the table and quickly retreated out of the room.

As you could guess, I walked out of the house as well and jogged over to Santana's. It took only fifteen seconds for her to open the door and she had a smirk on her face, "It's only been twenty five minutes."

I shrugged and made my way into her house. Once she lead me upstairs and opened her bedroom door, I flung myself onto her bed face first. She wouldn't believe how much I missed her bed. Mine was just a place holder for like the most comfortable bed in the entire planet.

She laughed and sat next to me, "So how was the dinner."

I turned over but continued to lay down, "It sucked. That guy's not very nice."

"Yeah," she sighed and laid down, "He didn't kick you out again, did he?"

"Nope, I walked out," I turned over onto my back to get a better look at her, "About the whole feelings thing. I kind of want to get it out of the way so could you just say that you have some for me or not because it's been bothering me."

She smiled and propped her head up with her arm to look down at me, "One time, after a football game, I think it was play offs, the both of us came back here. There was no party because everyone was bummed out that we lost, which shouldn't have fazed them cause we lose often. Brittany couldn't come over because Lord Tubbington was on parol and needed to be watched. You couldn't find Finn after the game, so my house it was. It was a really nice evening, too. We laughed and enjoyed ourselves until like three in the morning.

You know that time where you feel you can spill you're deepest secrets or take a walk outside in the dark but you're too tired to move or think properly? That was where we were at. We told each other secrets, not very good ones by the way. Well, they weren't that good till I told you that I had feelings for you.

And you remember what you said?" I shook my head so she continued, "You said that you knew."

I scoffed at myself. That doesn't sound cocky at all, Fabray.

"And you know, what? I honestly believed that you did already know. I was never that good at hiding my feelings," she took a deep breathe, "but if it makes you feel better to hear it, then yeah I have feelings for you too."

I felt my heart burst in my chest and it was a warm, familiar feeling that I wanted more of. I also wanted to kiss the beautiful girl in front of me for being so brave, but the look on her face made me stay still and wait out anything else that was on her mind.

"You know we can't be together, though," she said shakily and I laid my hand on her arm in a form of comfort, "You're still with Finn and we've already tried pretending like you weren't and it ruined me. I can't do that again."

I nodded my head, "I'll just break up with him. It's so easy."

"It couldn't be that easy, Q."

"Of course it could," I raised my hand to cup her face, "A smart girl once told me that you can't help who you like. So we shouldn't feel so bad about this. It's really more simple than we think."

She studied me for a few moments before nodding her head, "Okay."

I smiled and traced the side of her chin with my finger before laying all the way down, "Can I stay the night? I haven't been sleeping very well these past few nights."

"Of course you can," she smiled, "As long as you promise no monkey business."

"Why would I make such a promise?" I joked and she laughed as she stood up to get me a change of clothes.

I hope you enjoyed!