Chapter Text
“Can he hear me?”
“We don’t know yet, Mr. Anderson. He suffered severe head trauma. We just have to wait.”
There are voices around him, a beeping sound that makes his head ache. Sebastian’s throat is dry but his tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, so he doesn’t even try to talk.
“We would like you to keep talking to him, just in case he recognizes the familiarity of your voice. We should know more in the morning.”
A hand touches his forehead and strokes through his hair, just the way he likes it. It’s calming and soothing and he’s so tired, so he just sinks back into the warm darkness that wants to envelop him. Faintly, he hears a soft voice purr:
“You have to wake up, Seb… you can’t leave me, please.”
He wants to reach for it, wants to offer comfort to whoever speaks with such desperation and urgency, but he’s already too far gone. Velvety numbness encompasses him and he’s not strong enough to fight it.
The next time he wakes up, both the voice and the soft touch are gone. Instead, his head is throbbing and everything is too loud. When he tries to open his eyes, white light flashes and he squeezes them shut again. He groans.
What happened? Where am I?
“Mr. Smythe?”, a female voice to his left asks him. ”I’m nurse Jacky. You’re at the St. Mary’s hospital. There was a car accident. A few of your ribs are broken and you suffered some head trauma. I will go get Dr. Madison.”
Sebastian’s head swirls and he feels sick to his stomach. Car accident? Hospital? He doesn’t remember a thing… why don’t I remember?
He hears a door slam shut and then open again after a few moments. A hand gently touches his right shoulder and a calm, female voice speaks to him.
“Mr. Smythe, my name is Dr. Caitlin Madison, I’m your doctor. Feel free to keep your eyes closed, they might still be sensitive to light. I heard Nurse Jackie already told you that you were in an accident. A car hit you around the corner of your home and you were brought here. We had to re-arrange your broken ribs and bandage your chest, so it’s totally normal if it feels a little harder to breath. You also hit your head pretty hard. As far as we can see, nothing’s too harshly injured, you were really lucky.”
Lucky? He certainly doesn’t feel lucky. Sebastian reaches up to rub at his temple but finds that scratchy fabric is wrapped around it. The hand on his shoulder leaves and touches his fingers to gently bring it back down to rest on the bed.
“Mr. Smythe, do you want us to call someone? Parents, siblings… maybe a boyfriend?”
A boyfriend? Sebastian tries to shake his head but soon finds that’s definitely not a good idea as nausea hits him again. He clears his throat. “No boyfriend.” His voice sounds strained and raspy. “Santana Lopez”, he croaks.
There’s no one better to advocate for him than Santana. She’s become sort of his best frenemy since they bumped into each other about two years ago on a busy street in New York and she’s still one of the fiercest people he knows. She’ll know what to do.
For some reason, his doctor seems to hesitate, so he adds: “She’s in my phone. Fingerprint ID.” He holds out his right hand with his eyes still closed and hopes it’s in the general direction of where the doctor is standing.
“Mr. Smythe… are you sure there’s no partner I could call?”
Sebastian huffs. Yes, I am sure! He dumped his last boyfriend, Zac, a few weeks ago and that asshole really did a number on him – he didn’t feel like dating for quite a while and only recently started again. Why doesn’t she go and call Santana?
“Mr. Smythe, can you tell me what date it is?”
To be quite honest, he can’t. The past few days are blurry and he doesn’t know how long he’s been laying around here, barely conscious. Not wanting to admit his lack of knowledge, he decides to go with the month: “September 2015.”
Three heartbeats of silence follow. Just as he starts to wonder if she just left, Dr. Madison asks: “Mr. Smythe, where did you grow up?”
He groans. What is this, 20 questions?
“Paris”, he tries to sound as annoyed as he can with his horse voice, “Moved to Ohio when I was 16. To New York when I started studying at Columbia at 18. Anything else?”
Sebastian hears a pen scratch over paper. “No, Mr. Smythe. That should be it for now. Get some rest. I will asks a nurse to bring you some water, call your friend and be back later to check on you again.”
He hears steps shuffle out of the room and the door fall shut again. He has the faint feeling something not quite alright but he can’t put his finger on what’s disturbing him. With a deep sigh, he gets comfortable on the pillow and sinks back to sleep.
“They say you don’t remember us…”
Sebastian stirs. There it is again, that soft, familiar voice.
“Amnesia. Memory Loss, they call it.” A wet laugh. “I don’t even know what that means. They say it could all come back in a flash or be gone forever.”
A hand touches Sebastian’s cheek and he leans into the warmth. His head is still too foggy, somewhere between being awake and asleep, yet it feels like something he has done time and time again. “I refuse to believe it. I refuse to believe what we have is not strong enough to come back.”
Sebastian’s feel a thumb stroking over his cheek bone. “And if I have to make you remember each minute, if I have to make you fall in love with me all over again, I will do it, Seb.” A forehead presses against his own. “I promise, I will…”
Sleep eventually manages to pull him back before he can pinpoint where he heard that voice before.
The lights are dimmer when he opens his eyes again.
“Welcome back, Fievel.”
He looks to his right. Santana is sitting in a chair next to his bed, wearing a white suit and blouse. A book is flipped open and rests in her lap like she had been reading up until now. He groans. “Please tell me I’m not dead and you’re the one that’s supposed to bring me to heaven.”
Santana grins but it lacks the usual glint in her eyes. He can see that her make-up is smudged in places and creased in others. Her usually carefully styled her looks tousled and like she kept running a hand through it. “Please, as if you would go to heaven. We’ll both burn in hell, babe, better get used to the thought.”
Sebastian smiles back and reaches out for her hand. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
She gets up, puts the book on her chair and sits down next to him on his bed. When she takes his hand, he feels that it’s freezing cold despite the rather warm temperature in the room. Her grin slips and he sees tears well up.
“Oh, come on, Satan, don’t go soft on me now…”, he smiles when the first one rolls down her cheek.
Santana sniffs. “You really had us worried, Seb. The doctor said… she said…”, she shakes her head, “what do you remember?”
Sebastian sighs. “Not much, really. I remember waking up. Apparently, there was a car crash? I don’t know. The last thing I remember clearly is… Jordan’s birthday party? But I didn’t even drive there, I don’t understand…”, he trails of. Santana bites her lip and looks away. “What?”
She looks back at him, uncertainty in her eyes. “Santana, what? Tell me.” Oh my God, maybe she wants to tell me that I will never walk again? He tries to wiggle his toes and sighs in relief when he sees them twitching under the blanket.
“They…”, she starts and glances at the door, “they told me not to tell you but… Seb, it’s March 1st. 2016.”
Sebastian draws his eyebrows together. “What? How can that be?” Surely I wasn’t in a coma for so long?
Santana squeezes his hand. “They say you lost the past few months. Your brain… I don’t know, they used all those technical terms but that’s what it boils down to: Apparently, you don’t seem to remember the past half year. They are not sure if it’s temporarily or… or, well – forever. They just don’t know.” She looks down. “They say you don’t even remember Blaine.”
“Blaine?” He narrows his eyes. I only know one Blaine and I painfully remember him…
“Anderson?”
“Blaine Anderson?” Sebastian is stunned. He hasn’t heard that name in quite a while. “Of course, I remember Blaine. I haven’t talked to him in years, though, what does he have to do with it?” Was he the one in the car? Is he hurt, too?
With a strained smile, Santana replies: “That’s the thing, Seb – you have. You met in a bar at Halloween last year and have been a couple since four weeks later. You were honestly disgustingly in love during christmas time.”
Sebastian bursts out laughing. It hurts his head but that’s the most ridiculous story he’s heard in a long time. Me and poster boy Blaine Anderson – a couple? A flirt, a one-night-stand maybe, but a committed, serious relationship? Absolutely not. “Ohhhh, Santana…”, he sighs when his laughter finally subsides. “You really know how to cheer a guy up.”
Weirdly enough, Santana’s face stays serious. He even finds hints of sympathy in her eyes. “Santana, you can stop – I’m not buying it. Me and Blaine – as far as I know he still living with his fairy princess Kurt Hummel and reigning a kingdom of whistling birds and blooming flowers. He’s certainly not my boyfriend.”
She looks down and squeezes his hand again. “What if he was? I’m not kidding, Sebastian. What’s harder to believe: That I’m trying to mess with my best friend who just awoke after a serious car crash – or that this car crash made you forget a few months of your life?”
Sebastian’s smile fades. She’s right – they might tease each other endlessly but they would never be downright cruel towards each other. But… it couldn’t be, right? Me and Blaine? Suddenly, he feels bone tired.
“He’s outside in the waiting room”, Santana adds, “do you want me to ask him to come in?”
His head is pulsing so hard, he can feel the pressure pumping blood through his vein. He closes his eyes. Do I want to see Blaine? A part of him craves to see the other’s face but the other… “No”, he answers. “No, I… I think I need some time…”
Santana hums and he feels the mattress lift when she gets up. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. Get some rest, Seb.”
He nods weakly. All he wants to do is go back to sleep.
“Mon petit garçon!”
He jolts awake when his mother smashes her tiny little body onto his bed and puts pressure on his ribs. He groans. “Maman?”
“Tout ira bien, mon petit prince, tout ira bien…“, she mutters and pushes her nose into the crook of his neck so that he finds his face buried in her blonde hair. His head still feels dizzy from being awoken so rudely but the smell of her vanilla shampoo calms him immediately. He rests one hand on her back which is covered in a lilac trench coat.
“Amelie, let go of the boy, you’ll squeeze him to death.”
Over his mother’s shoulder, he catches green eyes, as piercing as his own, belonging to a man in a dark grey suit and tie. He nods at Sebastian when their eyes meet.
“Hello, Sebastian.”
His mother sits up and whirls around. “’Hello, Sebastian’? What kind of greeting is that when your son almost died, Richard?”, she hisses with her melodic accent. 20 years of living in the US and she never got rid of it.
“It’s okay, Maman, I’m fine.”
His mother looks back at him and it’s the first time he gets a proper look at her face. There are bags under her big blue eyes that weren’t there when they skyped the last time and worrylines evident on her forehead. He reaches out to smooth them out.
“I can’t believe you flew all the way here…”
“Oh, mon amour, don’t be ridiculous! Of course. I booked a flight as soon as Blaine called.”
Sebastian narrows his eyes. “You know Blaine?”
“Amelie… you know what the doctor said”, his father mutters warningly but his mother just shakes her head.
“Oh, calm down, Richard.” She grabs his hands and kisses his knuckles. “Yes, dear, I know about Blaine. You couldn’t shut up about him when you met again. And when you finally admitted what I’ve known for so much longer…” She smiles at him and pushes his hair out of his forehead. “I’ve never seen you so happy, baby.”
Sebastian averts his eyes. “Yeah, that’s what they keep telling me… just that I don’t remember a thing.”
“You will, ma biche, you will. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” She kisses his knuckles again. “You’re always so hard on yourself…”, she whispers and Sebastian doesn’t know why but the softness in her voice makes his eyes burn. He closes them and takes a shaking breath.
“Oh dear…”, his mother shuffles up on the bed and lays down next to him before she envelops him in her arms. The mixture of her warmth and familiar scent is too much for him, he can’t stop a sob from escaping.
He doesn’t know how long they lay there, him crying in his mother’s arms like a little boy. Crying because of how close he was to actually dying, crying because he’s mad at himself for not remembering, crying because he knows this has be hurtful for Blaine too and if anyone in the world deserves pure happiness, it’s him. And crying because he’s just so damn confused.
His mother only whispers sweet nothings and rocks him gently from side to side until sleep overwhelms him again.
It’s been about a week since he woke up. He’s been slowly coming to the realization that he can’t ignore him forever, so he agreed to meet up with Blaine. Still, he felt strangely vulnerable in his hospital gown, so he asked Santana for some clothes and she brought him a sports bag full of sweatpants, wide t-shirts and comfortable pullover that don’t cling too tight to his skin in order to not have any additional pressure on his chest.
His ribs still hurt when he moves a lot or walks but at least his head is feeling better. The doctors do tests everyday and usually, Santana comes by after work to keep him company for a few hours. Sometimes she brings Brittany, sometimes one of his college-friends or another former Warbler he kept in touch with. They tell him stories about the part of his life he forgot but that’s all they are to him – stories. None of them ring a bell. Yet, they carefully avoid the one topic Sebastian wants to know more about but doesn’t know how to ask: His relationship with Blaine.
Every once in a while, one of them forgets, mentions both their names in one breath like it’s the most natural thing to say: “And then Blaine and you did this and that” or “I swear, you were so wasted, if it wasn’t for Blaine literally carrying you home, you would’ve fallen straight onto your face” – and each time, they stop, look at him with this strange look and change the subject.
So that’s why he figured, he should talk to Blaine. Problem is: He has no idea what to say.
There’s a knock and then the door opens. Blaine looks so much like the Highschool version he remembers it almost takes his breath away. Sure, his hair is longer, not plastered to his head anymore, and he wears jeans that are still tight but actually seem to fit, not like the chinos he wore back then that were tighter than any man should probably wear them.
Not that he minded much.
“Hi.
Blaine stands awkwardly between the door and his bed where Sebastian’s sitting in grey sweatpants and a light, white pullover on top of the sheets. In his hands, he holds some daisies. Sebastian smiles. Typical Blaine, he thinks and immediately wonders how he should know – he knows nothing about this version of Blaine.
“Hi”, he answers and points towards the flowers, “those for me?”
“Yeah…”, Blaine replies and looks down, swaying back and forth like he’s not sure if he should run away or run towards Sebastian. “You… you told me about how you used to pluck them with your mother when you were still a child so… I don’t know.” He laughs but it sounds strained. Blaine runs a hand through his curls and for a moment, Sebastian can imagine how soft they must be, can almost feel it in his fingertips.
It’s gone before he can focus on it.
He clears his throat. “Thank you, they are beautiful.” He looks around. “I don’t think I have a vase but there’s a glass over there?” He points towards a tray on top of a counter where he stores his clothes.
Blaine smiles a small smile and nods, grabs the glass and hurries to the bathroom to fill it with water. When he comes back, he puts them on Sebastian’s nightstand and stays standing there, eyes flickering back and forth between the chair Santana usually occupies and the edge of the bed. Eventually, he decides on the chair but pulls it up right next to the bed.
“I, ummm….”, Sebastian starts and scratches his temple over the bandages. It itches incredibly. He still doesn’t know what to say. As if Blaine understood him, he speaks up.
“Thank you for meeting me.” A polite smile flashes on his face.
Sebastian sighs. “Well, from what I hear we have, umm… recent history.” He wants to smack himself in the face. Recent history, really?
Instead of angry, the expression on Blaine’s face grows fond. “It will never seize to amaze me how someone can have such a silver tongue and be utterly lost for words when it comes to talking about feelings.” As if on instinct, he leans forward and reaches out a hand to cover Sebastian’s. His face turns serious. “I have to know, Seb: How much do you remember?”
There’s hope shining in Blaine’s eyes and Sebastian feels something shift in his stomach. He never wanted to hurt Blaine, not back in Highschool, not now. Yet he knows, what he’s about to say obviously will. He wishes he could say anything but: “I remember Highschool. Thad’s New Year’s party. You and Kurt fighting on the balcony.” He averts his eyes, can’t look at Blaine when he adds: “That’s the last time I saw you… at least the last time I remember…”
He hears Blaine breath out and feels him pull his hand back. “Oh”, is the only reply.
Sebastian looks up and immediately wishes he didn’t – Blaine looks crushed. No hint of a smile, his arms wrapped tightly around his upper body as if he wanted to hold himself together.
“I’m sorry, Blaine…”
Blaine nods. “I know, it’s… it’s not like I didn’t know before. It’s just… hard, you know?” He looks up at Sebastian. “I have all those memories, all those… feelings. And you have none of that.” He runs his hand through his hair again and takes a deep breath before he’s straightening up again. “It’s okay”, he assures, seemingly more for himself it seems than for Sebastian’s sake. “It’s okay. It will come back. We can do this.” He smiles at Sebastian. “I just have to remind you.”
Sebastian frowns. “Blaine, it’s not like I haven’t tried. Actually, I’ve been doing nothing but trying, what else is there to do for me? Physical therapy and scans clearly don’t fill my dancing card here.”
Blaine seems a bit taken aback but soon finds his voice again. “Yeah, of course! I know. I just meant that we can try together now. Like we always do.”
“Sure. Like always”, Sebastian huffs. It’s quiet for a few moments.
He sighs. He knows he’s not mad at Blaine, he’s mad at himself and the situation. A thought pops up in his head. “Do you… do you know what happened? The accident?”
Blaine’s eyes widen. “Umm…”, he shuffles in his chair and hesitates to speak. “You don’t remember anything about it?”
“Blaine, I think we established that quite frankly, my brain is not really trustworthy right now.”
“Right, right…”, he lets out a long breath, “So, the police is still investigating but it looks like a drunk driver. They found video footage of a car from a few streets away already driving in wavy lines. It’s the same model and color like the car that hit you.” He bites his lip. “We… we had a date that night. Nothing too fancy, dinner at my place and a movie. You let me pick”, his smile is timid, “because of course, you would. You always pretend it’s because you don’t want to be the one always making the decisions, but I know you do it just to make me happy. You’re that kind of boyfriend.” The smile fades and makes room for a look of confusion. “Are? Were? I don’t even know.”
He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, you left around 11pm. I wanted you to stay or at least take a cab… but you said something about having classes the next day, that Columbia is way closer to your apartment and how much you enjoy when there’s the smell of winter in the air, so you wanted to walk from the subway station.” He closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head. “I should’ve insisted on you staying with me…”, he whispers.
Now it’s Sebastian who reaches out a hand. He doesn’t know why, he’s not good at comforting others but something tugs at his heartstrings at seeing Blaine blame himself.
“Hey, it was not your fault, B. I can be pretty… persistent once I put my mind to something.”
Blaine huffs a laugh. “Yeah…”, he looks up again. “They say the car hit you and you flew about 10 feet through the air. A CCTV from a bodega nearby captured it… I didn’t watch, I just know what the officer told me. Somehow your phone was still intact. You usually text when you’re home safe, so I got worried when it was already around midnight and still no word from you. I kept calling. Fortunately, one of the nurses here heard it ringing and answered. I came immediately but…”, his voice breaks, “seeing you like that with all those… wires and tubes and… everything.” He takes a shaky beath. “They fixed your ribs but couldn’t really tell me if there was brain damage or not. I called your parents and Santana. Hunter called the Warblers. And then… then I was sitting here. Dr. Madison told me to talk to you, so I did. Told you how you changed my life, how much I need you, how much I love – “, he halts as if he wonders if he should go on and then adds with purpose, “how much I love you. Begged you to wake up and waited.”
Sebastian faintly remembers half-lucid dreams of a soft voice whispering but he can’t really remember what it said. Was that Blaine?
“The first few days, Santana, your parents and I alternated. I was here in the morning before classes, Santana came in the afternoon after work. We couldn’t believe our luck when Dr. Madison called to say you finally woke up. Of course that was a short moment of joy until she told me about your amnesia…”, he trails off.
Sebastian feels the silence stretch uncomfortably, so he tries to lighten the mood. “Well, at least that way you can’t complain if I forget our anniversary.” Blaine doesn’t look the slightest bit amused. “Too early? Ugh, tough crowd.”
Blaine’s brows furrow. “This is not funny, Seb. I thought the person I love might die, only for him to wake up and completely forget about me.”
“Oh, believe me, Blaine, I understand it.”, His laugh is hollow. “I mean, imagine? There’s this guy I’ve been chasing for years and just when I probably finally know what he looks like naked – boom! I forget everything. I mean, just my luck, right?” He grins at Blaine and sees his face fall. Yeah, okay, maybe it’s really not that funny…
“I should go”, Blaine presses.
“Blaine…” He wants to hold on to Blaine’s hand but the other pulls it back harshly.
“It’s okay, Sebastian, it’s…” He shakes his head. “You need time to think this over. It’s okay, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I am. I’ll just…”, he gets up and takes a few steps towards the door, “I’ll just let you get some rest. That was a lot to unpack and you’re still exhausted.”
“Blaine, look…”
Blaine holds up a hand. “It’s okay. I’ll be back soon.” He seems like he forces himself to smile. “Get some sleep, Seb.” With that, he hurries out of the door and Sebastian can’t shake the feeling that he’s somehow responsible for chasing him away.