A/N: Life gets the best of all of us and it has gotten me for the past year or so. I do apologize for not finishing this story in a timely manner and basically not revealing the killer for a very long time. I think there will either be one or two more chapters before the story is completely done and don't worry they will be up extremely soon. Trigger warning for violence. All mistakes are mine but Glee sure as heck isn't.

I slumped into my hospital bed and watched my parents go back and forth, arguing about why I was here. Again.

The last time I was in a hospital room with my parents I had just squeezed out a baby and was giving her up the next day.

I swallowed hard just thinking about that day. Much of it was still a blur to me but the overwhelming feeling of guilt was unmistakable. Just laying in a hospital bed made my body feel the memory of pain.

And just like that day, they were arguing. This time was a bit different though, my mother seemed more vocal with him than she use to be. I guess I wasn't the only one who had changed.

"Why didn't you tell me that she's barely been home? If she was under my care she wouldn't look like this," Russell yelled pointing at me and making me feel extremely self-conscious. I knew I felt bad but I couldn't possibly look as bad as I felt.

Judy rolled her eyes as she sat in the chair next to me, "She's almost eighteen, Russell. I can't tell her not to go out with her friends."

"You guys are making my headache worse." I interjected but it didn't seem to work.

"Will you look at this! You're nagging is putting her through even more pain," Russell used as he jested towards me.

"If my nagging is hurting her head than your loud grating voice isn't helping her either!" Judy suddenly screamed and I raised my eyebrows at her.

"Both of your voices aren't helping right now," I muttered under the loudness of their argument and I rolled my eyes as they blamed each other and ignored me. They only stopped once the doctor popped her head in and both of their attentions went towards asking her a million questions.

The doctor hushed them down and smiled at me, "How are you feeling, Quinn?"

"Tired." I answered honestly. I could fall asleep at any moment but something about doing that made me feel uneasy.

"Well, you have a slight concussion," The doctor looked at her board in her arm, "Did you happen to hit your head recently?"

"I can't remember if I had."

"Does a concussion explain why she looks like she's dying?" Russell snapped.

"Russell." Judy chastised. She didn't like being rude to doctors, or really anyone she didn't personally know.

"And that pain you're feeling," the doctor continued to focus on me, "Don't worry too much about it, the medicine we gave you should be working in a few minutes."

"Can you incompetent doctors at least tell us why she's in pain?" Russell asked through clenched teeth.

"We're doing more tests." The doctor said, "Thats the best I can do right now."

"Is that what we're paying you people for? Just doing your best?" Her folded his arms and turned to me, "Why don't you tell her how much pain you are in and the stiffness in your joints so that she could actually do her fucking job? It's like you're fucking dying!"

"Why do you care?" I whined at him.

"Why wouldn't I care," he asked carefully.

I watched as the doctor made her way out of the room and I shrugged at him, "You didn't care where I laid my head when I was pregnant but now that I'm not feeling too well you're acting like you're a parent."

He paused, before shaking his head at me, "Do you not understand anything? I'm your father. I'm suppose to care about you. I always have."

I let out a bitter laugh, "Then why haven't you acted like it?"

He looked shocked, actually shocked at my words and had none of his own to offer. Instead, he rubbed at the back of his neck and walked over to a chair in the corner of the room and sat. For a moment I felt guilty.

"No parent is perfect, Quinnie." Judy said, touching my palm softly with the tips of her fingers.

Involuntarily I grabbed for her hand, "I'm just sick of trying to be something I'm not just to please him."

Judy shifted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable talking about her husband while he was in the same room, "We all make mistakes."

I was basically the poster child of making mistakes.

"You and your father have a lot in common," Judy laughed to herself. I glanced over at Russell and noticed that he was just as intrigued as I was, "You both sure know how to hold a grudge."

I rolled my eyes and heard Russell scoff.

"Well, you both do." Judy patted my hand with a fond smile on her face, "Did you know that your father isn't even a real blonde?"

I looked back at Russell and tried not to perk too much up at this news, "What?"

Russell shifted in his seat and shrugged, "I dye it every now and then."

"More like every week." Judy corrected, "He was born with auburn hair."

I sighed and a realization of more of a fact and less of a memory washed over me in a sad nostalgic cloud, "You know you're the reason why I started dyeing my hair."

He looked at me, "Why didn't you stop?"

I never really knew why I kept it blonde. My first answer would be to fit in within my household but I never truly did so what was the point? Maybe it was because I still wanted make Russell see me as the perfect daughter that he always wanted? But that wouldn't work unless he forgot major things that I've done to tarnish my reputation. Honestly I wouldn't want to forget those things ever again.

So I went with as honest as I could, "I like it this color."

He nodded, the corners of his mouth slightly turning up, "I do, too."

I turned away and tried to fight a weird rush of wanting him to come over and hold me. To tell me that everything was alright and that he still loved me, "I was thinking of going pink."

Judy giggled and Russell let out a breathy laugh.

A knock on the door caught our attentions. I couldn't help but smile at Santana, whom looked like she didn't know if she should come back later or barge herself in, "Sorry to interrupted."

"You're not, sweetie." Judy turned back to me with a soft smile before acknowledging Russell, "We probably need to give Quinn a bit of space anyway."

She stood up and Russell followed, though I could tell that he wanted to argue against leaving.

Santana watched my parents leave before turning back to me and taking Judy's old seat. She scrunched up her eyebrows and tried not to look me in the eyes, "So.."

"So?" I reached for her hand and squeezed it in mine. I waited until she looked and gave her a smile which she barely returned, "You look worried."

"Yeah." She let out a small laugh and shrugged her shoulders, "I'm just a little… freaked."

I shifted in the bed and tried not to show how uncomfortable I was feeling on the thing, "I understand why."

"I'm just…" She stopped and rubbed her thumb against the pad of my hand before lowering her voice to a whisper, "Are you and Finn…"

"No. No way," I interrupted her, "Just cause I defended him?"

Santana nodded her head and looked down at our hands, "I'm going to be honest with you right now and know its probably not the best time cause you're in the hospital and you look like shit but I want to get this off of my chest."

"You look like shit too." I joked almost immediately making her glare. I wanted to steer clear of any honesty and just wanted her to pretend like everything was okay for just a second. But that wasn't how we worked. At least that's how we shouldn't work, "Okay. Should I prepare myself?"

"This whole thing, Quinn, is fucking nuts." Santana started, standing up as she tried to gather her thoughts, "This whole thing of you dying and coming back to life- it just doesn't happen in real life. Have you ever thought about this all being a lie made up by your batshit boyfriend to drive you to the brink of insanity?"

Well obviously I had but I kept my mouth shut and watched her start to pace the room.

"You know what, its actually fucking convenient how you forgot everything. Everything you've ever said or have done to me or to anyone you've hurt in like, what, the last 3 years." Santana paused, "Its convenient how you only remember certain things."

I looked down, "Do you think I've been making this up?"

"Did I say that?" She snapped before continuing to pace, "I saw what you did to yourself in my car that one day when you proved that you couldn't be making up this shit. But like you're not doing that creepy healing stuff now so was that a magic trick or something?"

She waited like she wanted me to answer before she continued, "Also, like, I feel like I'm constantly walking on eggshells around you. I don't know if you're this Quinn or the asshole Quinn and I don't even know how to talk to you. Will I cause you to have another aneurysm by just mentioning the word fish or something?"

More guilt washed over me and I had to look away from her. She must have felt so much pressure just being around me. It wasn't like I had given her a reason to be taking care of me. Just days before waking back up I had humiliated and talked down to her at a party. Now I expected her to stay by my side and love me even with all the mistakes I had made. I couldn't just forget my mistakes, I had to learn from them like everyone else seemed to be.

I should have just stayed by Finn's side those first days after I had woken back up. Then Santana wouldn't have had to be rushed into this.

"I don't know what to say." I mumbled, "I don't like this anymore than you and I wish this wasn't happening. I honestly don't even know what's happening, but all I want to do is remember. All I want to do is make it up you."

She walked back over to my side and gave a deep sigh, "Okay."

I looked back up and noticed that her expression was more light than it was before. It brought a smile to my face.

"Have you eaten anything?" I found myself asking. She looked as bad as I felt. Well, she didn't look terrible, just tired and a bit pale.

She shrugged, "I don't remember."

I grabbed her hand closest to mine and lightly squeezed it, "You better go get something to eat."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kick your ass." I said without a hint of intent.

"There's some chips in the vending machine down the hall." A voice behind her said.

Dave stood at the door and I could see from his face that he didn't want to ruin the moment like he did. I wasn't that up to talking to anyone other than Santana, but he had a look on his face like he needed to tell me something important.

He gave a timid smile, "Can I talk to Quinn for a second?"

Santana waited for me to respond negatively, but when it didn't come she patted my hand.

"I guess I'll go get some chips." Santana stared down Dave before walking around him, giving him a silent warning not to mess with me.

He nodded his head before sitting down on the chair next to the bed and setting his gym bag on his lap. He patted the bag and smiled at me, "So, I've been searching the web. The dark web."

"The dark web," I mocked.

"Yes, and I found something about the resurrection spell I put on you," he reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of papers

"It was a spell?" I groaned.

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." He straightened the papers in his hands and started to read of them aloud, "The resurrection spell that I used was created in, I think, Malaya a long time ago, I'm assuming the 1600s but not sure-"

He stopped himself and looked up at my face. I probably looked confused so he winced and shifted through the papers, "I'll skip ahead."

He cleared his throat, "Well, I had a problem figuring out which spell thing I used on you. It's either the one that brings you to life but slowly decays you until you remember your full past. I'm paraphrasing here but it's suppose to make you appreciate life or something cause you'll be fully reborn once you remember everything."

I rolled my eyes, "Of course this had a meaning."

"Yeah, I'm guessing you're decaying faster than normal cause you're so stressed out." He reasoned, "But there's only a thirty percent chance that that's the right spell. I just wanted to tell you the good one before the bad."

I sighed, "What's the bad one?"

"Well, like, you're resurrected but not fully," he made a pained expression with his face, "And you're just decaying until you die again."

I felt fright wash over as I sunk into the bed, "And you don't know which one you used on me?"

He shook his head and I scrunched up my face. This was all too convenient. Too cliche. This sort of stuff wasn't suppose to be real. I should be worried about prom not about decaying because of a spell put on me. A freaking spell.

"Don't freak out," he said and I glared at him.

"How can I not freak out." I snapped at him, "I don't want to die. Again. Oh my God, can you believe that sentence just came out of my mouth?"

"You have options," he pointed to one of the papers, "What if you remember everything like who killed you and stuff and then you're all better afterwards?"

"What if I'm not?"

"Well you might as well try."

I stared at him and realized that he was right. What did I have to lose, I was already dying. I might as well find out the truth. I scooted myself up, wincing at the stiffness in my body, "We need to go to your house."

"Why?" He stood up as I scooted to the edge of the bed.

"I don't think I can remember something like my murder without visual cues." I rolled my eyes at myself, feeling strange saying that sentence out loud.

He nodded his head and patted his gym bag, "I assume you're gonna need pants."

I nodded my head and cringed after he threw a giant pair of pants at me. Once I slipped them on under my hospital dress I pointed to my left arm, "Do you know how to take out an IV?"

He scrunched his mouth around before nodding, "I've seen a video on it once."

"Great." I dead panned.

He went for my arm and I couldn't help but start laughing at the situation before flinching in pain as he moved the IV in my arm.

Once we figured that out, Dave ran and fetched a wheelchair before wheeling me through the hospital trying not to run into anyone we recognized.

It was weirdly easy to escape the hospital without being spotted even though we had to run past a nurse who screamed for us by the reception.

I jumped into Dave's passenger seat as he started the car with a small laugh, "That was easy enough."

I almost nodded my head until I heard a knock at the window. I shrunk down once I recognized the figure behind it and rolled it quarter of the way down to hear her, "Hey."

Santana sighed and folded her arms, "You wanna step out of the car, Fabray?"

I hesitated for a moment before opening up the car door and stepping out. She waited until I closed the door before showing her frustration, "What are you doing?"

"I'm," I tapped the top of the car with my forefinger, "going to remember who... Killed me."

Santana hesitated, "With him?"

I wasn't thinking rationally when I had decided to get into his car but yes him, I wanted to say. Instead I just opted for, "I need to go to his house. That's where it happened."

Santana took a moment, I could see the wheels turning in her eyes before she reached over to the passenger door handle, "Fine. But you're sitting in the back seat."

I smiled, "But I called shotgun."

"But it looks like you're too late." Santana slipped into the passenger seat with ease.

I took my time and sat in the back, buckling up and trying not to sound too excited, "Thanks, San."

"What fucking ever, Fabray. I'm not trying to see you get abducted but fucktards again, am I?" She folded her arms and kicked the dashboard, "Start the car, Karofsky."

"Yes, ma'am." Dave started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

By the time Dave drove into his garage, I felt anxious and could tell Santana felt the same thing. I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the back door, "Don't move. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going now?" Santana turned around in her seat to look at me.

I paused, not really wanting to say what I had to say, "The… The scene of the crime."

There was a pregnant pause before Santana sighed, "I almost laughed, Quinn. I almost fucking laughed at that. I don't even know why."

"Cause it sounds crazy," Dave answered, "No offense, Quinn."

"I don't know why I would be taking offense to that but okay," I patted on the back of Santana's seat and gave her a reassuring smile, "I've got to do this by myself."

"Sure." Santana nodded.

I pointed to Dave, "Don't move."

He looked around, "This is my house, Quinn. What do you mean don't move?"

"I'll be right back," I opened the car door and willed my feet the set on the ground, "I just need to walk through your front yard."

I nodded my head at them before jumping out of the car and walking to the front of the yard. It was the same from what I remembered; clean cut lawn and giant bushes in the corner. I walked over to the bushes and gave a sigh. All I need is a trigger of some sort. Just to get me on the right path to remembering.

"I just thought that maybe I could talk some sense into you," Jesse said behind me. He paused probably for dramatic affect, "Santana talks a lot about you as well."

I turned around and walked back to him, "What did you just say?"

"Santana talks a lot about you," he repeated, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You're not nice to her either are you?"

"When did you-" I put up my hand and shook my head, "I don't care."

"Thats your problem, you don't care," he clenched his jaw and looked away, "Just another person who doesn't care about anyone but themselves."

"Oh boohoo, Jesse," I folded my arms and started to walk away again, "Do you really expect me to take into consideration everything I say just so that I don't offend you overly sensitive babies?"

"What you've been doing to her is inexcusable," he said as he kept a pace behind me.

"What I've been doing is giving her life lessons," I sighed, "The world isn't nice and she should learn that fast."

"And who are you to teach her?"

I stopped in my tracks and jerked around to face him, "And who are you to defend her?"

He stepped closer and tensed his jaw, "You need to be nicer to Rachel."

"Or what?" I straightened my back and folded my arms, "You gonna hit me? What's that going to prove? Rachel still wont want you. You're just another lifeless loser chasing after a star that isn't even lit-"

I was cut off was his hands slipping around my neck and him squeezing hard. I lost my balance and fell straight into a shrub with him kneeling on top of me. I kicked and tried screaming but no one would have seen or heard me since the music was loud in the back and the front was vacant.

I tried scratching at his hands but he squeezed harder each time I tried and he shook me against the grass. My eyes started to glaze over as I heard a snap under his fingers, his eyes unchanging as if he hadn't heard it at all.

He placed his thumbs under my chin to angle my head away from him while I grabbed at his hands and prayed the realest prayer that I had done in months.

Jesse's eyes suddenly went wide once I clawed into his fists one more time, this time digging in deep enough to cause him pain. He jumped back, taking his hands away and holding his injured one as he stood up and backed away.

I wanted to scream at him, but choked as I felt as though his hands were still around my neck. I touched my throat, noticing that it felt different. It felt numb and I still couldn't breath.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I didn't mean to-" he stopped in mid sentence and looked to the side before running away.

I wanted to yell after him but kept choking over my words so I instead tried to focus on the little bit of air that I could get. I grabbed at the plants next to me as it was getting harder to breath and my eyes bulged as I noticed someone was coming.

I turned my head to look, a slight whimper coming out of my mouth from the pain in my neck as I prayed that I wasn't imagining someone being there. I prayed that they would help.

I wheezed her name when I saw that it was Brittany, crouching down next to me with her eyes filled with care and panic.

"Quinn, are you okay?" She asked and I shook my head.

I tried to tell her that I couldn't breath but my voice was gone and I kept losing focus as I started to become light headed.

I watched Brittany as she looked around and reached for the bottom of her pant leg, just to feel that she was with me. Then she looked down and I gasped at the look in her eyes. I've never seen them so dark, so distant.

"I can't, Quinn." She started to push my hand away, "I can't do this to myself anymore."

I felt white fright shock me as I grabbed at her but she just shook her head and backed away, "I can't save you."

Then I watched her leave.

Tears fell out of my eyes as I looked into the sky, touching my neck to try and stop the burning pawing inside of it but every breath I took made it worse. My eyes began to droop as my breathing came in short little bursts as I tried to think of everything I did wrong and everything I couldn't leave behind.

I stared at the sky and felt tears brimming at my eyes. I remembered everything. Literally everything. And though physically I felt refreshed, mentally I felt... Horrible.

I felt a tickle against my foot and used my elbows to push myself up to see a small dog sniffing it. He was held by a leash, held by a man who looked at me with concerned eyes.

"Excuse me, Miss," the man asked as he pulled his dog away from me, "May I ask why you're in the shrubbery?"

"I fell." I pulled myself with ease and gave my best smile, "Sorry to concern you."

He gave a tightlipped smile before looking at my attire and walking away, sure to go gossip about it to the whole neighborhood.

It took a few moments before I walked back to Dave's car, it was still idle in the garage. I got into the backseat and once I closed the door I noticed both passengers had their attention on me.

"So?" Santana asked carefully, trying to read my expression, "Did it work?"

I bit my bottom lip and I nodded, "Yeah, I remember everything."