Finn was frustrated. Worse, he was frustrated with being frustrated. Every time he got a few steps forward it seemed that the way on was blocked with some new obstacle.

He'd slept so well the night before, his mind full of his old memories of how he'd first connected with Rachel and how she'd affected him. He'd been happy at all the progress he'd had, and the hope that Rachel's return would help with more. He'd been looking forward to telling her what he remembered, too, hoping that maybe they could sing their New York duet together and that would help him lock those fragments down and get much more of it, since it was significant. And she'd be happy, and... But his shrink's explanation of what was going on when Finn remembered things made sense, that he added stuff from memory when the similar repeat was missing something.

Doing anything with Rachel – he couldn't see why he'd switch to a memory instead, not if she was really here.

So now Finn couldn't get to sleep, preoccupied with the problem he now faced: How could he keep on remembering?

Options. There have to be some options for this.

Not being around Rachel until he remembered more was a total non-starter. He missed her, he knew she missed him even more, she might understand in her head but never in her heart. He'd been thinking about her so much, for months now, and with that big chain of memories back from fall of sophomore year it was finally starting to feel less like an obsession and more natural. He loved her and he knew it, his mind and heart starting to come back into sync. He needed to be around her.

He could stop worrying about remembering more at this point, just spend time with Rachel and enjoy it. Yes, remembering only pieces was disorienting, but the goal wasn't really to remember everything, it was to remember enough so that he could get his life back. His college courses were going well and he did remember and love Rachel, so maybe that was enough that they could go from there and rebuild the rest. Unlike where his block of memories ended, there wasn't anyone coming between them. And those memories were really complete; he had a lot to go on with, especially together with how well they'd connected before she left for New York. So he could concentrate on the future instead, hope the pieces kept coming in as similar things triggered them, and not worry about the rest.

But this idea was really unsatisfying. The complete part of his memories was still very old, leaving a large gap that held only pieces. The disconnection was uncomfortable, and while he was in love with Rachel it was still way too new, undeveloped. Not like the man who held her hand in the prom picture, knowing she was the center of his world. Not like 'we helped each other figure life out', as Rachel had put it.

Plus he couldn't count on Rachel being on board for it either. Now that he remembered her from when they'd first met, he knew she was pretty unstoppable when she wanted something. She'd backed off a lot to give him space after the accident, and she'd apparently softened over the years, but she wasn't that different. She had come through massively for him with that song, she must have known how significant it had been for them, and he was sure she'd try more. Which could be good or bad, depending on whether it brought things back or instead muddied up his mental associations. They could sing numbers again together, they could even try that duet, but he'd probably just go ahead and kiss her whether he remembered or not, God knows he wanted to.

Or... Finn checked the calendar, making up his mind as he looked at it. It was the only option he truly wanted. Eighteen days before Rachel came home; he needed to remember all he could before then.

He knew he'd never triggered anything deliberately before, it had always been done for him. But he had a good handle by this point on how it worked, it was getting a lot easier to remember things, and he could at least try it himself. And trying something without Rachel would always leave open the option to try it with Rachel later, that had to be different enough to keep the association clean. As for how... do it like they did it with Sectionals, repeat something, get in the moment, and trust what his mind felt should be next.

You want your memories back, Hudson? Go get them.

His decision made, Finn felt his heart ease, and he slept.

As Finn woke up the next morning, he started wondering about how he should get more back, what things he could trigger that might help him the most in updating his memories, especially memories of Rachel.

Rachel... Rachel had shown him a way, he realized. The memory she'd chosen to give him had been a significant one, a key to the rest of that time. Everything before it that led to him joining Glee Club, choosing to stay part of it, putting together that song that convinced Mr. Schue to stay, all that was part of it. And it had connected Rachel and him, leading to the next few weeks, and probably so much more except that Quinn's pregnancy had disrupted everything. So he needed something like that, something that a lot of other things would have led up to, and that would have been a foundation for everything that happened later.

Like... Finn smirked. Okay, nineteen and male, of course there was something he really wanted to remember. But it was more than that. He'd had that fragment haunting him for months now, if that was an actual memory then it wanted to come back. And that kiss, in the hall after Sectionals... yes he'd felt on top of the world, winning, and Rachel had been massively adoring, but there was more to it, something deeper and extra intimate about the way they'd touched and kissed. It felt like they'd become lovers by then and it had made them more closely connected. The feel of her hands on his chest, her lips on his, even little touches, all heightened because they made something resonate in him. He wanted that. Even if it didn't bring any other memories back with it, he wanted to get to that state of their relationship, bring himself more in step with his impulses and with what Rachel remembered.

And he'd like to think it would be connected to a lot more, that they'd made it significant and special, something that showed what their relationship had become and that they'd built on later. It certainly did seem to have made a difference in how they were together.

Also, if there was any memory that he really wouldn't be able to get back by repeating it, it was that. Even leaving aside that he still didn't want to take advantage of Rachel, there's no way he'd trade in reality for a memory when it came to that. So if he was going to get that memory, he needed to get it now.

Or maybe he just really wanted to remember having sex with his girl, because it seemed to have rocked, and then maybe he'd get to do it again once she was back. Whatever. It's still a good idea, it's significant and special and unique. But how can I get into it?

He needed to know when, and where, and what happened before it. But how could he find that out?

Ask Rachel? Finn dismissed that quickly. He couldn't talk to her about how they were together, it would just make him feel more frustrated. She'd have a hard time with it too, both thinking about it and having her hopes raised. Besides, it was important that the memory come back for real, not from being told.

Kurt? Chances are his stepbrother might know what he'd been up to, at least whether he'd snuck out for a long time or whether he'd had Rachel over. Brothers cover for each other. But he wasn't that comfortable with Kurt yet, and Kurt had been quite clear that he'd done his best to not think about what his brother and best friend were doing together.

That left talking to Puck about it. While Finn hoped that he hadn't been the type of guy to brag about sleeping with his girlfriend, especially to someone as sex-obsessed as every version of Puck he'd known, maybe he'd been the kind of guy who let things slip, and Puck might have known what he was up to if he'd planned something special.

The next night Puck came over to play Call of Duty – Finn was getting pretty good, even though the game had become a lot more involved in the time he couldn't remember – so, after a game ended with them being blown to smithereens, he took the opportunity.

"Puck... can I talk to you about something?" Finn opened tentatively.

"Yeah sure, dude."

"It's about Rachel. Me and Rachel I mean."

"Yeah, I figured."

Finn rolled his eyes, then took a deep breath. "We... were active, weren't we? I mean, we..." he trailed off.

"Active?" Puck snickered. "You mean in the sack, right? Yeah, you were active. Very."

"So, I... told you about it?" Finn asked hesitatingly, a little disbelieving.

"You haven't had your balls cut off, right? Then no," Puck replied. "But even a pussy-whipped one-chick dude like you doesn't propose in high school without getting some serious action. Besides, your PDA was out of control any time there wasn't a teacher or parent to stop you, and Schue didn't stop you much so you were all over each other in the choir room. Worst-kept secret in the school, that you two were having a great time whenever you could sneak away. Ben Israel didn't even bother blogging rumors about it, and that wasn't just a case of denial over Rachel."

Ben Israel? Oh yeah, the nosy kid with the fuzzy hair, Finn thought. He could remember seeing that kid lurking around, following... Rachel, he realized. That was Rachel. He remembered seeing her frown at the kid harassing her, then turn to present a bright smile to the world as she walked down the hall. I did notice her, even before I joined Glee. Huh.

"Dude?" Puck broke into his thoughts. "You zoning out on me, or is this starting to ring a bell?"

"Uh, not yet," Finn said. "I just remember the kid is all. From before."

"Right. Yeah, the little gossipy twerp's had it bad for her for years. Thinks it's destiny because of their names, or something. Helluva choice she had when it came to making friends her own age at Temple – me and him, not many other options. Figures she'd keep her legs closed until she found a nice Gentile boy like you."

"Hey, watch it." Finn found Puck's tone and words aggravating. "That's my girl you're talking about."

"Is she?"

"Yes." Finn frowned at his friend. "A lot's missing, but I remember enough for that."

"Yeah, okay," Puck said, as apologetically as he could muster. "Anyway, yeah, you two were on, everyone knew that. We could tell both of you were having a good time, even before she defended your prowess to Santana in front of the rest of us."

"She what?"

"Well you know about what happened with you and Santana, right? Santana said she ran into you and you already knew." Puck caught Finn's nod. "Well Santana liked to comment on it, talk about what a bad lay you were, just to rile Berry up really. One time your girl was so not in the mood and let fly. I won't tell you what she said, that's worth remembering for yourself someday, but let's just say that Santana found a different topic for future insults. And the rest of us expanded our vocabulary."

"Wow."

"Well, hey, you know Berry." Puck grimaced at his own choice of words. "You know what I mean."

"She's... intense," Finn said, admitting what Puck probably meant. Rachel pissed off wasn't something to mess with, though she had been really hot when she'd been angry with him. Of course she'd also been really hot at times when she hadn't been angry with him, those kisses... "Passionate," he finished softly.

Puck tried to hide a smile, and shook his head at his friend. "You are in so deep," he commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you're so hung up on trying to remember being in love with her before that you're ignoring the fact that you're in love with her now."

Finn winced. "I'm not," he protested.

"Sure you are. I've seen it before –"

"I mean I'm not ignoring it," Finn interrupted. "I know how I feel."

"Oh."

"It's just not enough. It's too... new, I guess. It's not like it should be, I mean I felt so much for her I asked her to marry me."

"Which was crazy."

"Maybe. But however I was, I'm not like that now. And that's huge, once in a lifetime if you're lucky, and we got that lucky. And then I got really unlucky." His voice lowered. "Even if it's totally crazy, I want to be that lucky again."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Bet it helps to know that the two of you were really hot for each other."

The corner of Finn's mouth quirked up. "It doesn't hurt."

Puck snorted. "Anyway. Yeah, Berry doesn't do things halfway. Especially not you."

"Do you know... when? I mean, when we started, uh, doing it?"

"Good thing we could tell you were 'cause you sure can't use the words," Puck sniped. "You didn't report back or anything, but yeah, I know when. Why so interested, anyway? You've been very clear about wanting to remember stuff like that instead of being told."

"Just – what you did, tricking me into remembering the songs we sang, the performances, it gave me an idea," Finn explained. "If I could just lead up to it, find out what happened before it, maybe my mind will just flow into it, like it did with the other stuff, like Sectionals. Bring it back."

"Hmm. Might be worth a try," Puck said. "'Cause yeah, that'd be a key time to bring back. But why now? She'll be back in a couple of weeks, she'd know all about it."

"And what, recreate the start of it and hope I remember?"

Puck shrugged. "Well, yeah. Worked great for the other stuff."

Finn rolled his eyes. "We get something like that started and I'll keep going whether I remember anything or not. Can't count on her being willing to stop either. And I do want to remember it." He frowned. "Besides, the shrink has a theory about how I'm remembering that makes sense, that when something matches enough but still has something missing I fill in the missing stuff from memory."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"Yeah. Problem is, that means it's easier to remember Rachel when she's not here."

"And she'll be back in a couple of weeks." Puck groaned. "Shit."

"Yep." Finn exhaled. "So I want to give this a shot first. I figure it should have been special, so maybe I'll get more with it or even if not at least I'll get that."

"And then you can repeat it all you want later," Puck leered.

"Still talking about my girl."

"Still talking about the couple that used to make out in the choir room in front of everyone. Just because you don't remember it doesn't mean you can act all shy about it. Hell, there was a write-in campaign to have you listed as 'Most Likely to Get Arrested for Excessive PDA' in the Grad Class Awards."

Finn snorted. "What happened?"

"I couldn't scare up enough votes." Puck admitted. He gave a smirk. "It was close, though. Not that I cared, you're just both really fun to bug, you're so damn sincere."

"Anyway..." Finn tried to get the conversation back on track.

"Uh, yeah. So you want to know when you closed the deal and juiced the Berry, huh?"

Finn gritted his teeth to stop the protest he wanted to make against Puck's continued crudeness. He needed this information, and clearly Puck was just trying to wind him up. "Yes."

"Right." Puck paused. "So, it was a Friday, opening night of West Side Story."

"Um, what?" Finn was getting whiplash from Puck's sudden switch from riding him to providing information, and also didn't know what he was talking about.

"Oh, you haven't gotten anything about that yet? Fall musical, didn't get cancelled for once. Most of us were in it. Not Mercedes, she walked when she didn't get her way, and not you, you were too busy at the tire shop and trying to get your grades up, but the rest of Glee club was in it. And most of the rest of the football team, 'cause Coach Beiste was co-directing and made them. I say 'them' because I had a real part. So did Mike, but I got to kill him."

"Okay."

"Anyway, there are bootleg DVDs around if you want to watch them. You probably even have one somewhere in your mess here, and if you don't Kurt would, unless he took it with him to stare at his boyfriend. Or I can get you a copy. Leads were Rachel, of course, and Blaine."

"How do you know that was the night?"

"Because I saw Rachel the next night, that's why. Girl walks backstage before the show and she's on top of the world, even more than she had been after killing it opening night, and she loves performing. And later I saw her at the makeup mirror, and she's giving herself that look girls give themselves, the 'do I look any different, I feel different' look. I notice stuff like that, I've seen it a few times before. So sometime between that and the end of the previous night's show, the two of you closed the deal. I'd say the night before since she didn't look tired. Girl was shining, you must've really rocked her world."

"Huh." Finn thought a bit, trying not to be curious as to why his friend had noticed his girl so much. Probably just nosy about sex, he told himself, it's Puck. "So what was I doing that night, since I wasn't in the show?"

"You came to the show, of course," Puck said. "Your girl's the lead, dude, you go. You skipped the after-party, though – Rachel had the flowers you left for her but was upset that she hadn't seen you after the show. She left kinda early, so..." he let it hang suggestively.

"Right." Finn absorbed the information. "What was going on earlier? It was a Friday, you said."

"Yes, and that means football. Crappiest timing I can think of, don't know why it was that way since Coach was involved in both and making most of the team be as well, but first we played a game, in front of a big-deal scout from Ohio State no less, and then had to go do the show. We were fit going in but still dragging by the time we hit the after-party, even those of us that were killed off early."

"That – that's great, dude. There's a lot there. Thanks. I mean, I've always loved football, guess it didn't work out, but playing for a scout, that was a big deal for me, right?"

"Well, yeah," Puck replied. "You'd heard a rumor that they needed a new quarterback and were all keyed up. You played well, we won. I didn't stick around in the locker room after, had to get ready for the show, but you did. I don't know what went down. You didn't mention it afterwards, and Shane was going around bragging about the full ride he was being offered, so you can probably fill in the blanks as well as I can."

"Yeah." Finn tried to think about it, but found nothing. "Or I could talk to the scout. Coach Bieste would know how to get in touch with him, right?"

Puck started to laugh. "Yeah, you could say that," he spluttered. "Seeing as they got married over Christmas break. Most of us figured he wasn't really scouting any of us."

Finn grinned. "Thanks, dude. Really, thanks, for this and everything else. It's tough, it's like there's a door in my head, and I know all I have to do is open it, but I can't even find the handle let alone the key. I don't know what I'd've done without you, everything you've helped me with, all that music stuff especially."

"Hey, don't get mushy on me," Puck joked, then sobered. "Look, I haven't always been the best friend, okay? Hell, the time you went back to – I'd already knocked up your girlfriend, we just didn't know it yet. But I really did love Quinn, and you didn't, though I wasn't sure at the time so it's no excuse." He brushed his mohawk back and exhaled. "I don't know what I'm saying here. Just – even with all of that crap we patched things up, you and me. And you're our leader. Not just the quarterback, not just Glee co-captain, you're the reason the rest of us got involved with Glee and stopped being assholes, mostly. Me anyway. Some of the girls too, like Santana. You made yourself better and you made us better along with you, and it just sucks that you lost so much of that. Sucks for you, and also kinda sucks for everyone else too." Puck frowned and rolled his eyes. "And enough of that, let's you and me blow away some dirtbags." He reached for his controller and restarted the game.

The next day Carole found Finn looking through a stack of DVDs in the living room. "What are you looking for, Finn?" she asked.

"Do we have a copy of West Side Story? The one from McKinley. Puck said there were copies floating around."

"Of course we do," Carole said. She went to the corner cabinet and scanned the top set. "Here," she said, passing it to Finn. "You know Rachel's in that, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Finn replied. "I'm trying to find more memory triggers. This is from opening night?"

"Yes. That's the one you went to, if that helps."

"It might. Did you go?"

"Yes, Burt and I went that night, after your game. We left right after the show, though, we had to get to Toledo for a campaign event the next morning."

"Oh." Parents away – I think 'where' is answered.

The next morning as he awoke, Finn tried to look into that fragment a bit more, the one of Rachel in the pink sundress; he'd been wondering all along if it was from that time. But he didn't want to push it, and couldn't seem to extend it, all he could see was Rachel in that dress, her skin warm in the light... light. What light? It's flickering, like – firelight. Finn smiled. Firelight. Except – He groaned. I don't know if this is real. If he tried to reinforce something he'd confabulated, it'd just get worse. Was it a memory, or a fantasy?

For a moment Finn gave up the whole idea, it was just too dangerous. He could screw up the memory he most wanted to get if he did this wrong. But he caught himself.

Don't chicken out now, he told himself. I need to do this. And this piece is really persistent, it's been trying to come back for ages. He was so tired of fighting himself, that made it easy to think about giving up, but if he could just get this – it might put him over the top. He heard Rachel's voice in his mind: 'I believe in you, Finn, I always have and I always will.' He could do this. He needed to, for her, for himself, for them. He could give up fighting when he'd won.

Finn next went to talk to Coach Beiste, who was enthusiastic about helping once he explained that he was trying to trigger some memories by recreating what he thought and how he felt that day.

"Come to the field at school early Sunday evening, I'll get some of the boys to run plays with you," she said. "I think I remember that game well enough, we can't play it out but we should be able to get you to feel the same." She was enthusiastic about helping him, which he guessed made sense, she'd been his coach for two years and had probably wanted to help before but hadn't seen how.

On Sunday she was even more into it. He geared up, she had him run some wind sprints (not used to this any more) and then most of the current team came out for a scrimmage. Her husband the scout was there, looking professional, making comments beforehand about how their current prospect wasn't working out and maybe they should reconsider him or could give a referral. And he played well, despite being rusty, made some good plays, sure he got knocked down a couple of times (done deliberately by the defence) but always after he'd got the ball off. All so he was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted when the scout sat him down in the locker room, made him wait for half an hour, and then told him how great Shane was doing. Then Finn was given the scout's classic line:

"Just 'cause your football career ends in high school, it doesn't mean your life does."

Finn felt like crap. He was probably supposed to, but he tried not to be pleased about it since that would ruin the effect. And he was good at running those plays and leading the guys, even now out of practice and with his memory full of holes, so how come he didn't measure up? Did he suck then too but he didn't remember it? He'd put a lot of effort into football, and apparently this was all that came of it. Why does Rachel even want me when I'm such a loser, even when I could remember it all?

He showered, tired and frustrated, and then headed home and put on West Side Story. And he was amazed. Sure, the sets were basically skeletons, but the piece itself was incredible. He saw all those people, his friends, some he'd met 'again' only recently and some he'd known for years, and they were great. Puck acting. Santana, commanding attention as she sang and danced. Mike singing. Blaine moving like a cat. Kurt coming on in his small part but stealing the show for every second of it. And Rachel. She was a star, shining brightly, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. She'd blown him away with her solo in Fiddler on the Roof, and when she'd sung 'Don't Rain', but even that hadn't prepared him for her luminous performance as Maria.

How the hell did I get a girl like her, he thought. And after how much I jerked her around, too. She's amazing, her voice, her presence... and I'm nothing, look at all the others, so much better than me, I'm just a kid who thought he was somebody because a crappy high school sports team couldn't find anyone better. She's a star, and I'm... tall.

Finn lit the fire before he stretched out on the couch to watch the second act. Puck had killed Mike and had been in turn taken out by Blaine. So Santana was pissed over Puck's death, but Rachel, who he realized was playing Puck's sister, still loved Blaine no matter what.

No matter what, Finn thought, as he watched Rachel answer back to Santana, singing about the strength of her love, right or wrong, as she gazed out to the back corner of the audience. She's transformed, Finn thought. Her voice and demeanor alone was affecting him, and when he heard her sing those words: "I love him, I'm his, and all that he is, I am too," he knew without a doubt where she was looking, who was there, and why she conveyed such truth. "We are one," she sang, and he felt it. Felt inside what his body and subconscious had known that day in Rachel's room when he'd kissed her and almost done a lot more, what had been building when they'd spent time together before she left for New York, and what had been resonating in his memories, of when they'd first connected and kissed, of New York, of Sectionals and especially that kiss afterwards. He wanted her and loved her, sure, but this was so much more. Deeper, profound.

She's so incredible, Finn thought, his mind reeling in his exhausted haze. Beautiful, talented, passionate, so expressive, and that voice. And she's singing about me, to me. How did that happen? What does she even still see in me, now that high school is over? I may have thought I was somebody there but it's clear I'm nothing special. He closed his eyes.

The show played on, but Finn dozed on the couch, the fire still blazing away in the fireplace. He slid in and out of consciousness, slipping between dreams and semi-wakefulness like a stone skipping across water. He heard a voice, Rachel's voice: 'You're special. You know how I know that?' He saw her lying beneath him, her hair fanned out over pillows and a plaid quilt, her eyes full of trust, love, and desire. And he felt amazing, that this incredible shining girl wanted him and gave herself to him, that he could touch her and be with her, sharing a moment of pure bliss. Feeling so intimately connected, so one.

Finally, he slept.

In the early morning Finn awoke feeling groggy and stiff, wondering where he was. The couch was long enough but it still wasn't very comfortable, and his muscles were sore. Must've been watching something, he thought through his early-morning mental fog. He checked the case on the table. West Side Story. Guess I just wanted to see Rachel again. God, I miss her. Wish I could just hold her, it's been so long.

Way too long, why didn't I go with her, wasn't I supposed to...? Finn sat up suddenly, shocked to wakefulness by the answer his brain supplied: he was stuck behind in Lima because his recent memory had been shot to bits and he hadn't remembered Rachel. And she was lonely in New York, crying out for him in the bed they should have shared.

What?

Fuck.

How the hell is that even possible?

Finn put his head in his hands and started trying to make sense of what his memories told him, that he'd forgotten Rachel - how could I ever forget Rachel, she's everything - but he was still too tired. Just be, he told himself, relaxing his mind the way he'd learned. He dozed off once more, his last thought being that he'd better still remember all this when he woke up again.

please review! I'm very interested in knowing your reaction to this one, it's been a long time coming.