A/N: these next few chapters may take a little longer to post, but I'm working on them.
I am completely and thoroughly blown away by how much so many of you are getting into my story! Much thanks for all the feedback!
The newer members dispersed on their own, leaving the old core of the group: Finn, Puck, Blaine, Artie, Tina, Mike, and Sam. They reassembled at Breadstix for lunch, Finn having what felt like a permanent grin plastered on his face. The restaurant was largely empty, so their orders were taken quickly and their drinks brought.
"So why'd you pick that number?" Finn asked the others as they waited for their food. "It was a great choice, I felt like a king. Leading it and pulling it off, really alive, just the thing to get me into it and get my confidence going again. Did you know that?"
"Uh..." The others exchanged looks. Finally Puck spoke. "Actually it's the only one we could come up with that we thought had a shot, dude," he admitted. "We figured a performance was best, as much like we'd done it before as we could, since just repeating songs didn't work. This was the only one we thought we could trick you into."
"And had the people for," Artie chimed in.
"Oh." Finn couldn't help but be disappointed – he'd hoped there would be more that could also be brought back the same way.
"But now we know it works, there were others that Rachel was in, there's a chance you could bring that stuff back if you sang with her," Tina said.
"Hold on." Finn looked at Puck, his grin disappearing. "What did you mean, 'just repeating songs didn't work'?" Puck didn't respond, and when Finn looked around at the rest of the table, nobody met his eyes. Except Sam, who shrugged at him to show that he had no idea. "Karaoke," Finn said finally. "Some of those songs I've been singing, I've sung them before."
"Yes," Artie admitted. "And you didn't seem to notice, not to actually remember it."
"Like 'Don't Stop'." Of course he would have sung that before, they'd said the club had done a lot of Journey at one point, and he would never have passed that one up.
"Yes," Tina said. "How – how did you feel when you sang it?"
"I don't know, just..." Finn tried to think back. He hadn't noticed anything special, beyond the fact that the song was a favorite of his. He shrugged. "I really enjoyed it," he offered lamely. "But I would. A little embarrassed at screwing it up, I guess." The others exchanged glances at this, and he groaned. "You know why I screwed it up, don't you," he said. Back to doing stuff and not knowing why.
"Yes, you –" Tina started to talk, but Finn interrupted her.
"No, please don't tell me," he said quickly, waving her off. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, just – the unexpected stuff helps, that way things can sort of sneak up on me like what happened today. It's like..." he tried to make sense of his thoughts on this. "I have to not be thinking about it, and then maybe the thoughts can flow right. Like today, that was perfect, I got into the performance and just went with it. But if I get told, then if I think I remember it later, maybe I remember or maybe I don't, I've just decided in my head what it should have been like. Or I remember being told instead of the actual thing."
"And if you don't get told?" Sam asked.
"Then if I remember something it should be a real memory because there's not much else it can be. And if something happens that might trigger it, it can only trigger the real thing, not someone telling me about it instead." Finn sighed. "Like when I was still in hospital, I heard this song on my iPod, it was me singing with Rachel. And I freaked out, I'd only just met her and it was really weird listening to myself." He paused, the others all still looking at him. "And then later, when I really wanted to remember, I listened to it again, and all I could remember was when I'd freaked out before. Maybe it wouldn't have worked anyway, but I don't think it can work the right way now."
"The song is linked to more than one memory and you can get the wrong one," Mike stated, understanding.
"Yeah, that's what my shrink says. So I don't want to set up any more stuff like that." But Finn smiled, still feeling happier than he'd felt in a long time. "Especially now that I know I can remember."
"So does that mean these things are kinda one use only, if it doesn't trigger a memory the first time then it might never work?" Sam asked, concerned.
"Uh, yeah," Finn replied. "That's the danger, anyway."
"Wow." Sam exhaled. "You're pretty much screwed." He rolled his eyes at himself. "Okay, that's a bad way to put it, but you get what I mean. That's a really small target to hit."
"Yep," Finn agreed. He looked over at Puck and Blaine. "What would you have done if I hadn't kept going, anyway?" he asked.
"Played through the intro and stopped," Blaine said. "We didn't want to let you know we were up to something."
"Good plan," Finn nodded. "Thanks."
"Of course now you know we're up to something," Blaine went on. "It's not a trick we can really pull twice."
"Now he knows that sometimes we're up to something," Artie corrected. "We could hide other songs in a larger set." He turned to Finn. "Like have you sing random eighties music for a while, you'd never know what was supposed to be meaningful and you couldn't be alert forever." He gave Finn a pleased smile.
Finn shook his head, a little amused but defensive at the 'random eighties music' crack. So he liked the stuff he'd grown up with that his mom listened to, so what. It was good music. "You're enjoying the idea of tricking me way too much," he chuckled.
"It's for your own good, Finn," Artie responded, still smug.
"He's not a puppet, Artie," Tina chided. "It shouldn't be up to us to pick what he remembers or just get him to do things."
"Thank you," Finn smiled at her gratefully. "Though at this point I'll take whatever I can get, at least as starting points."
"You're remembering more than just the performance, aren't you?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, it's kind of like a beachhead," Finn explained. "That's what it feels like, anyway, and now I get what I've been told about how things connect. Memories."
"Like what?" Sam asked.
"Like I remember the performance, of course, and being glad that you came back for it, and then from there I remember you coming back..." Finn quieted, closing his eyes, letting the thoughts come. "We went to get you, right? Rachel and me, we drove down to Kentucky to find you." And talked about music – Rachel had ideas about what suited the others' voices.
"Yep."
"And..." Finn winced as he remembered when he'd first seen Sam again, back then. "Okay, I could have done without remembering that." He opened his eyes again and looked at Sam meaningfully.
Sam chuckled ruefully, blushing a little. "Yeah, sorry. But you actually got that, huh? Like you can see it and hear it?"
"'White Chocolate'? Yeah. At the time I thought I'd never be able to forget it, guess I was wrong. Don't know why the name, though, maybe I never did."
"Uh, no, I wouldn't have told you." Sam looked very embarrassed.
"Are you finding it easier to remember?" Blaine asked.
Finn frowned, puzzled. "Well now I have a strong memory and before I didn't, so yeah."
Blaine shook his head. "Not what I meant. I meant what you suddenly wanted to talk about before, about when you hurt someone. The previous time you sort of remembered that you didn't get as much."
"Huh." Finn tried to remember what he'd felt then, why the stray thought might have come back, but he had no idea. "I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe it was more like the situation, maybe it was going through it again, or maybe it really does get easier." He shrugged. "I'll take what I can get. I still don't know how I hurt her, though, and I –"
"Don't want to think about it too much," Puck interrupted, slowly and loudly chanting Finn's familiar phrase.
Finn grimaced. "Yes."
"Well if you don't want to think, maybe we should get you drunk," Puck offered. "You're turning nineteen in a few weeks, the two of us could head up to Windsor and even do it legally."
"Yes, kill off some brain cells, now that's a good idea," Blaine said sarcastically. Puck glared at him.
"Hey, it's my brain, guys," Finn interjected. "Great plan today and I can't thank you enough for coming up with it and pulling it off, but now that I know about it I hope I get a say." Blaine and Puck both looked apologetic. "Anyway, don't people usually drink to forget?" The others laughed at that.
"So what do you think you should do next, Finn?" Mike asked.
"I don't know," Finn said slowly, considering it. "Maybe I should just push on with it, try to expand out from the memory, or try something else and see what else we can bring back... but maybe not right now." He sighed. "I feel like letting it sink in for a little while, just enjoy the moment and reinforce what I've got. I've felt so trapped, like there was a huge weight pushing down on me and I couldn't get out from under. It's finally lifting, a bit, and I just want to breathe and be happy about it." He snorted. "Either that or take the first bus to New York."
"Why don't you?" Tina asked.
"And get Rachel's hopes up when I still don't have much to offer yet?" Finn shook his head. "No, it doesn't feel right to keep doing that to her, to bother her like that." He exhaled. "I'm going to keep working on it," he said determinedly. "And I'll talk to the shrink on Wednesday, this is just the sort of breakthrough he's been hoping for so there's probably other stuff I can do now." He nodded to himself, then flashed a grin. "But right now I want to enjoy this feeling. And relax, finally. I've been so frustrated."
"You're not worried she might find someone else?" Artie asked. Blaine tried to wave him quiet.
"Already?" Finn considered it for a moment. All he could see was the way she had looked at him, how she'd talked of him with such devotion, how he could tell how much she loved him, how he was now starting to get a little sense of how he could actually have inspired feelings like that. That memory, of performing, he felt like he was that guy she'd talked about. "No," he answered finally. "Not if she really feels the way she thinks she does. And if not..." he shrugged. He had to concentrate on bringing himself back, that's what would fix things. She believed in him, and he had to believe in her too.
"Hey, we're celebrating, right?" Sam broke the silence that had descended, putting some cheerfulness back in. He raised his glass. "Here's to the power of Glee."
"To Glee," Finn replied, raising his glass too, clinking it against the others' glasses around the table. "So how are the rest of you doing, anyway?" Their food came a moment later, and they talked for a while about everyone else, finding out what each other had been up to since they'd been together last.
"How did your Glee thing go?" Carole asked Finn when he came home that afternoon.
Finn suppressed his grin. "Funny you should ask that," he replied. He looked at his mom speculatively. "Did you know what they were planning?"
"They were planning something?" Carole was puzzled.
"Yeah, we did two songs but they only told me about the first one."
"Really?" She looked at him carefully. "How did they go?"
Finn let his grin loose again. "It went great, Mom," he said. "They were ones we did at Sectionals last year."
Carole stared, her breath catching in her throat. "You remember? Doing them before?"
He nodded, grinning even more widely. "I remember. Just that, and some other stuff around it, but – I remember it."
"Oh honey." She closed to him for a hug. "That's so wonderful, Finn."
"Yes it is." He sighed and hugged her tightly, happiness bubbling up once more. He could do this, he could be himself again. It might be slow, and in pieces, but he felt he was finally on his way.
As he went to sleep that night he thought of Rachel, not from the picture or his fantasy, but from that memory, seeing her in the audience beaming up at him in adoration, like he was her hero... and that amazing feeling that right then on stage he really had been.
And he'd be her hero again, no matter how much he had to fight himself to do it.
The following morning Finn was much less interested in waiting to talk to his shrink before trying to remember other things. He had a memory now and he wanted more. This situation even has me hating a holiday, he thought wryly; his regular appointments were on Mondays, but he'd had to settle for Wednesday this week because of Columbus Day.
Finn lay in bed, still not fully alert, and he let his mind idly explore the memory he'd gotten back yesterday. Try expanding it, he told himself sleepily. Rachel. I can see Rachel, how she's looking at me. Is there anything else connected to that? But nothing else seemed to come, maybe because he was trying too hard, maybe because there wasn't really any direction for it to go or questions to ask himself about that memory.
Finn groaned, turned over and went through the performance in his head one more time, feeling that elation again, even through his morning sluggishness. He yawned and took a few deep breaths, relaxing himself further. Okay, try something else. Blaine. He remembered shaking Blaine's hand at the end, happy that they'd put their differences aside, but he didn't know what those differences were. Why would he and Blaine have had problems? His relationship with Kurt? But they seemed really solid, happy, Blaine had switched to McKinley because of Kurt and liked it enough to stay even now, replacing Finn as captain and male lead of Glee.
Replacing him. He didn't like feeling like he could be replaced, especially as Blaine was so talented, he couldn't compete with him really, and this was his club, or it had been. And yeah things are a mess going into Sectionals but I can figure it out, that's my job and I'm taking care of it. I'm co-captain here, I'm the leader, I brought Sam back, morale is better and I'm putting a plan together, and Blaine should respect that... huh.
And it had worked, once they'd pulled together, and he'd felt that awesome rush of performing and leading, and winning, getting to be a star for his star...
She'd come towards him in the hall afterwards, beaming at him, congratulating and praising him, and he'd felt even more a hero than he had when they'd finished the number and when they'd won. Rachel stepping into his arms, looking up at him with such adoration.
"You were so wonderful, in that last number," Rachel says, smiling. "Everyone was, but especially you." Her hands stroke up my jacket lapels, one reaching up to touch my face, her eyes so wide I could just dive in, her voice so lovely, silenced earlier but saved just for me... "I wouldn't have been able to tear my eyes from you even if I'd wanted to." And I feel like I can do anything, if she just keeps looking at me like that, and touching me, that extra thrill as her fingers stroke my jaw, her lips rising to mine, her kiss so serious, deep, the feel of her mouth sending shockwaves through me...
Wow. He'd thought the kisses they'd had when reconnecting had been amazing, but they had nothing on that one. More special, more intimate and powerful a connection. That had to be a memory, right? He hadn't even been trying to think of her, not right then, his thoughts had just naturally gone that way. Leading him back to her.