AU/AH. This has been sitting in my WIP file for a while.

My eyes felt like sandpaper as I opened them. The room was bright, but not at the same time. It hurt to breathe. It felt like a fire had run through my throat and chest, and the slightest breath felt like a thousand knives.

It took me a minute to realize I wasn't alone. A man was sitting in the chair beside me. He wore dark blue clothes and a long, white coat with writing over the right breast. I didn't recognize him though. He looked like he hadn't slept, there were dark bags under his eyes as he slept in the chair beside me.

Something beeped and he jumped, blinking a few times as he searched in his pockets before pulling out a small square object. He clicked it and blinked again before looking up at me. He rubbed his face and groaned before he sat up straight.

"Rose?"

I blinked at him, not sure what he was asking. He stood up and pushed something behind my bed and then sat on the edge of the bed, his hands hovering near my head.

"How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?"

I blinked at him again, and I didn't realize what he meant, but the ache in my body became almost too much and I nodded, hissing at the sharp pain in my head. Three other people came in, checking the machines around me, but I didn't know what was happening.

"Rose, do you know where you are?" a woman asked me as she flashed a light in my eye.

"Who's Rose?"

Everyone in the room stopped, eyes moving towards me.

"You are. You don't remember your name?" the man that was here before asked. I shook my head and looked at the other people in the room.

"No?"

"Do you know where you are?"

I shook my head again. The man looked crestfallen and I didn't know why. He excused himself for a moment and the woman that spoke took his spot in the chair.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

I looked at her blankly, biting my lip before shrugging.

"Nothing," I whispered, "What's going on?"

"Your name is Rose Hathaway. You were in a car accident two nights ago. You needed surgery," she explained, but none of the words she said made any sense. I furrowed my brows at her and shook my head slightly.

"I don't understand."

"You are experiencing some memory loss. Did you recognize the man that was here?"

"No. Should I?"

She frowned. "His name is Dimitri Belikov. He's your fiancée," she said, "He is very important to you. He cares very much about you."

The words were so foreign to me, but I glanced out to the hall where the man stood, a blonde woman standing with him. He was turned towards her, but I could see the expression on his face. I wasn't sure what it was, but it made my heart clench. The woman looked towards me, her face in a similar expression. She squeezed his shoulder before stepping into the room.

She spoke to the woman in front of me in a whisper before she walked back out. My eyes flicked back to the man, Dimitri, my finance, and watched his eyes water. When he noticed I was watching him, he tried to compose himself.

I looked up at the nurse. "What happened?"

Three days I had laid in this bed, not sure of what was going on around me. I knew what my name was, only because Dimitri told me. The doctor said that I had to be careful and slow, not taking in too much information at one time. He said that what was happening was likely temporary, that it wasn't going to be forever, but that it would take time.

I laid on my side and watched Dimitri. He was reclined in an armchair beside my bed with a weird binder balanced against his knee while he wrote on it. He said what he was doing was 'charting', making notes about his patients in their files so that other doctors and nurses could see what had been done or needed to be done.

My nurse Nancy walked in and smiled at me. She nodded at Dimitri and asked if I was ready for something to eat. I nodded tiredly.

"It's Jell-o for dessert. Green or red?"

"Red," Dimitri interjected before I could speak.

"I think she was asking me," I pointed out. Dimitri glanced up from his charting, a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. When I asked him why he had them, he said because I told him he was old. It seemed like it was a joke, but I missed the story behind it for obvious reasons.

"I know that. But you hate green Jell-O. Green gummy bears, green suckers, green jujubes. The only green candy you like are Skittles and gummy lifesavers," he said as he looked back to his chart.

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, what if I like green Jell-O now? Maybe losing my memory will mean I like new things," I said in a manner I would say was petulant. Dimitri shook his head to himself but said okay. I looked at the nurse and she told me she would bring me a green one.

I looked at him and bit my lip. I liked his company, and I liked the way his hair fell in his face as he tilted his head. But that was the extent of what I knew. Oh, and I liked the way his voice sounded and how he laughed. And his smile.

"Tell me about myself."

Dimitri looked at me with a soft smile.

"I'm not supposed to overwhelm you with information, remember?" he said gently.

"I feel like a strange in my own head. Please?"

Dimitri sighed quietly and closed the chart, setting it on the rolling table. He got more comfortable in the chair and laced his fingers together as he thought.

"What? Can't think of anything?" I teased.

Dimitri smiled. "You love the rain. The smell of it in the air, on the concrete. You love the way it sounds. It could be cold outside, and you'll open the windows at night so you can hear it until you fall asleep. You can't sleep with socks on, but have to have them on in the house. You can tell anyone until you are blue in the face that you hate eighties music, but you'll sing your heart out in the car."

I tucked my arm under my head and listened to him list off the things about me. Some of the things I liked, things I hated. My favourite colour; how I take my tea. He even told me about flaws that I disliked, but that he loved them because it made me who I was.

He moved his chair closer to my bed and ran his fingers through my hair. Once his fingers reached the back of my head, his fingers dug in gently as he massaged my scalp.

"You love when I do this. Some nights, you can't sleep if I don't do it. It makes it difficult when I'm on night shifts," he explained. I smiled and closed my eyes, leaning into his hand.

"Tell me what I love about you. How did we meet?"

Dimitri laughed and I opened my eyes.

"We met at a bar. You had spent the night being hit on when all you wanted was to relax. I asked if someone was sitting next to you, simply for the chair, and you snapped at me. I ended up sitting down anyway and ignored you for most of the night. Before you left, you bought me a drink as an apology and thanked me for not pushing my luck. I told you that I just wanted a drink after a long shift. I saw you at the same bar the following week, except, you were waiting for me. You found out I worked across the street from the bartender," he explained with a happy smile, brushing his fingers through my hair.

"I sound like a bitch," I laughed.

Dimitri grinned at me.

"I wouldn't say that. But you use that personality like a shield."

I smiled at him and sat up as the nurse came in with my foot, the green Jell-o on the tray. I reached for it first and looked at Dimitri pointedly as I tore the foil lid off. I picked up my spoon and took a large mouthful, chewing the food. I chewed and tried not to let it show on my face, but it was horrible. It tasted disgusting!

"How is it?" Dimitri asked with a cocky smile. I forced myself to swallow it and faked a smile.

"It's great."

"You wanted to spit it out, didn't you?"

I nodded and made a face.

"That was foul," I said as I put the cup on the tray. My nurse laughed and pulled a red container out of her pocket and set it on my tray. Dimitri smirked at me before he grabbed the green container, taking a spoonful while I opened my meal lid.

"Told you."

"Shut up," I mumbled, smiling either way.

It was strange. Everything was strange. I still didn't remember anything before I woke up, but I remembered everything I learned since. And now, I was going home.

Whatever or wherever that was.

I packed the few things I had in the duffle bag Dimitri brought me. He had brought me some things from home in hopes to either jog my memory or make me feel comfortable. Clothes, my hairbrush and skin products. He brought my cell phone that was salvaged from the car, and aside from a crack on the side of the screen, it was in good condition.

My nurse, Nancy, came into the room with a plastic bag and set it on the end of the bed with my discharge papers.

"What's that?"

"Your belongings you came in with. The shirt I'm not sure of, but you'll be able to save the jeans," she said with a shrug. I pulled the bag towards me and opened it, dumping everything on the bed. My white t-shirt was covered in blood and I made a face, tossing it towards the end of the bed. There was a small plastic container that rattled. I picked it up and opened it, staring into the case before pulling the ring out.

"What's this?"

"Your engagement ring," she said as she sat on the end of the bed, "I don't think any of us thought you were wearing it. If we knew when you were brought up to the floor, we would have given it to Dimitri."

"He bought this for me?"

Nancy nodded. "Yeah. He had a great proposal."

"You know how he did it?"

"I was there," she said, "It was at a hospital fundraiser. The theme was Gatsby. I was invited by my sister who is also a surgeon. Anyway, it was magical. There was a large fireworks display during the gala, and that was when he proposed. It was private enough, but pretty much everyone saw it. It was beautiful."

I smiled and slipped the ring onto one of my fingers, but Nancy told me it went on the next finger. It wasn't long until Dimitri was standing in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

"Ready to go home?"

I nodded slowly. "I'm dying to go home."

I sighed quietly and let Dimitri take my bag from me. He gently nudged me further into the room. I wasn't sure what I expected, but I was pleasantly surprised. It was a cute little house in a quiet neighbourhood ten minutes from the hospital.

The first room I saw was the living room. Two grey couches encircled a coffee table and a t.v. was against the wall above the fireplace. There were photos on the mantel and I moved further into the room. One was of me and Dimitri, one was of me and three blonde women. There was another photo frame of Dimitri and a man.

"That's Ivan," Dimitri said and I jumped, not expecting him to be standing behind me.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," I said and tucked my hair behind my ears. I gestured to the photo of me and three other girls.

"The one girl strikes some familiarity, but I don't remember the other two."

"Which one do you somewhat remember?"

I pointed to the one with long blonde hair and bright green eyes.

"I'm not surprised. That is Vasilissa, Lissa, your best friend. You met in kindergarten and have been thick as thieves since. She came by to visit you the first day, but you were still a little groggy," Dimitri explained and pointed to the next girl.

"That is Mia. You met each other in high school. Hated each other until your senior year. Sometimes you two plot and it terrifies me," he said with a laugh, pointing to the smallest woman with curly blonde hair and baby-blue eyes. She almost looked like one of those porcelain dolls people collected.

"And her?"

"Sydney. You met her through me, actually. She is a psychiatrist at the hospital. You met her a few times when you came to see me during my last year of residency. You two just…clicked. She seems to be the stabilizer of the group. Lissa is the mother hen; the worrier, and the caregiver. Mia is the impulsive one, and you are a little bit of everything."

"Sydney was the one you talked to when I woke up?"

"Yes, she was coming to see if you were awake," he said.

I nodded to myself and rubbed my hand over my temple, wincing at the pain that rippled from touching the bruise. Dimitri frowned but kissed my head softly and brushed my hair over my shoulder.

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"I'm an Otolaryngologist. I am also called an ENT. I deal with ailments of the ears, nose and throat. I work with the sinuses too, which are right here," he said and pressed his fingers on either side of my nose and forehead. "I diagnosed your deviated septum when we met."

"My…what?"

"You had issues breathing through your nose. You felt like you had something stuck up one side of your nose, but the septum, which is the soft cartridge inside the centre of your nose, was crooked from a rugby injury."

I nodded and bit my lip. "So, I had a nose job?"

Dimitri cocked his head. "You remember what a nose job is?"

"Yeah, changing the appearance of someone's nose."

"Good, you're remembering things. But, no, this only changes the inside of the nose. Not cosmetic. You had it the surgery to fix this about a year ago. You used to snore, but now you don't."

I nodded again and sat down on the couch. "How can I remember what a nose job is, but not what your favourite colour is?"

"Your memory can come back in stages. But the fact that you remembered that means your brain is healing," Dimitri explained, sitting down beside me and resting his arm on the back of the couch. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair.

"I hate this!"

"I know, Roza," Dimitri whispered sympathetically, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Were you working the day I was brought to the hospital?"

"Yes. I was asked to come down to the ER for a consultation. When I was walking in, the ambulance brought you in and I recognized your shoes," he said quietly, "I did my consult and then came back to the room you were in. They needed me to give them information about your medical history so they could bring you up for surgery."

"I'm sorry if I scared you," I said quietly.

Dimitri stroked my cheek softly.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault."

I nodded my head and I pulled my legs up, tucking my feet under me as I leaned against him.

DPOV

When I woke up, our bed was empty. I wasn't used to being home every night, but for the last three weeks, I got leave to be home at a decent time. Lissa offered to work from 'home' while keeping Rose company during the day. After she put a metal spoon in the microwave while I was in the shower, I was worried about leaving her home alone.

I groaned as I rolled over, cupping my face as I stretched my legs out after being curled on my side. I pulled myself out of bed and walked into the living room, finding Rose sitting on the couch.

"Hey," I whispered, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

"Hi," she croaked, and I leaned to the side so I could see her face. It was red and blotchy. There were tear marks too.

"Rose? What's wrong? Are you feeling any pain?"

Rose shook her head and sniffed. "I'm fine. I just remembered something, that's all."

I moved around the couch and sat beside her, tilting my head to look at her better. She shook her head again, but I could tell that whatever she remembered bothered her deeply.

"Roza, you need to tell me what you remembered," I pressed gently. She blinked and more tears rolled down her cheeks. Her eyes moved slowly towards mine and she licked her lips.

"Love fades?" she said and I closed my eyes, knowing exactly what she remembered.

"Oh, Roza," I whispered and drew her closer to me, "I'm sorry."

"What happened? I don't remember what happened, but I remember that part of the conversation, and how much it hurt," she explained while heaving a sigh, the pain of the memory wracking through her as her fingers gripped at her chest.

"It was almost a year ago. You had been offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for work, and you were hesitant to take it because of our relationship. It would have taken you to Europe, and between my schedule and the time change, it would have been almost impossible. And despite loving you, I wanted you to take it. It was too good to give up. We were arguing about it and I said that 'Love fades, our will'. I was trying to make the decision for you when I shouldn't have. We broke up for a few weeks, and when you showed up at the hospital, telling me that I was an idiot for ending things and that the opportunity wasn't what we thought it was…we started seeing each other again. I bought you a ring a week after you showed up at the hospital."

Rose nodded as I spoke as if what I was saying was connecting the dots in her mind.

"I was supposed to go to France," she said and I nodded.

"Yes. It was going to be a two-year stint," I supplied. Rose rubbed her hands over her face and sighed.

"Thank you," she whispered and leaned her head on my shoulder, sighing again.

"You'd think things would come back in order, not randomly."

"There's nothing about amnesia that works in anyone's favour. But, you're remembering; that's what's important."

She nodded again and sniffed. "Who is Janine?"

"Your mother," I said after a beat.

"She died, right?"

I frowned and nodded. It was a 'newer' memory for her to recover. Janine died six weeks ago.

"How?"

"Your mom was a First Lieutenant in Iraq. She died in a Humvee explosion," I explained, "It went over an active mine that was missed. She died in the hospital, my hospital from complications from her injuries. You were there with her every day. You held her hand when she passed."

Rose nodded and forced a smile. "I'm sorry. This is probably really hard for you too. Having to relive some of these memories and events over and over again."

I ran my fingers through her hair. "It's okay. If it means helping you, I'll do it."

Rose nodded and stood up. "Will you make Blini?"

Another thing she remembered without realizing she remembered.

"Of course," I said and kissed her forehead.

"Wait! What do I do for work? That is if I still have a job?"

I smiled. "You're an archeologist. A linguistic archeologist. You study languages and symbols. I've never been very sure about what you did, but you are very smart," I explained, "You were supposed to be examining artifacts found in a tomb when you were offered the position to go to France."

"I can speak French?"

"Yes. For a while, you were speaking French when you initially woke up. Before you remember waking up."

"Cool. Is that the only language I speak?"

"You were taking classes on Ancient Egyptian before we started planning the wedding."

Rose pursed her lips as if she were impressed with herself and headed to the kitchen. I stood up and followed her into the kitchen.