You know when you first wake up from a dream and you grasp at it trying to recall the events as if they where actual memories but pieces start slipping away and soon enough you realize it wasn't real and it doesn't matter? Because that's how I feel. Like I just woke up and I'm trying desperately to recall the wedding that just took place. To remember Rachel walking down the isle in that beautiful dress and the goofy look on Finn's face as she reached the alter, their I do's and my churning stomach as they confessed their love and sealed it with a kiss in front of all their friends and family. The end of my chance to ever prove to her that I could be better for her, that I could love her more, love her better. As hard as I reach for it and try to make the images stick, they are slowly clouding away, twisting into dust, into the darkness as I near consciousness. A dream, and that thought is terrifying. Because if I didn't just watch Rachel Berry become Rachel Hudson then it means that I in fact never made it past the second intersection on highway eighty and I don't know which one is harder to swallow.

The first thing I notice is the weight in my body and eyelids as I fight to open them, its a struggle against my limbs to move at all and as soon as I manage even an inch I regret it. Almost all of me exploding into an ache that I've never felt before, if I didn't feel so tired I probably would have groaned but I can already feel myself drifting off again. Although not before I feel it, a warmth in my right hand. Someone is giving it a squeeze in response to my almost non-existent movement and honestly I'm not as afraid anymore. I know someone is there and that someone will be here when I finally wake up. Its enough to help me relax enough to let the sleep that is pulling at my thoughts and nagging at my aching body to take me back without a struggle.

The next time I stir its different I feel more but less at the same time. I can tell I am on some major heavy medication just by the way my head is spinning. Its almost nice until I hear the steady beeping that at first confuses me but then I come to realize that its a heart monitor, my heart monitor and I remember. I remember the sharp impact and the weightless seconds that followed only to come crashing down and disoriented by the spinning and tumbling of the car and my body, then there was just this. I can feel my heart beginning to race at the memory and I'm trying my hardest to open my eyes but its almost like they are glued shut, or that I just have no control over myself. Which only makes me panic further, a small whimper that gets cut up and shortened in the dryness of my throat creeping out and barely noticeable. But someone seems to sense my distress, the same someone still holding my hand, squeezing it in the same comforting way as before. Somehow I know that its the same person. That they have been here this whole time, however long that's been and have not let go. What I don't know is who it is not until she begins to speak and her voice sounds so sad and broken that I can hardly stand to listen. Except at the same time I'm holding onto it for dear life and I can feel my fingers squeezing hers back, like if I let go I'll fall away and drown somewhere that I'm not sure of. Then once again before I'm ready exhaustion starts to creep up and take its hold. As I start to drift away the sound of her voice is running on repeat drowning out the repetitive beeping and roaring over the deafening silence.

"I'm here Quinn, come back to me...I'm here Quinn, come back to me...I'm here Quinn, come back to me."

This time as I'm waking my eyes lift on their own like its never once been a chore and I'm so completely grateful that I just stare at the place where the wall meets the ceiling, the ugly neutral hospital colors blending together at the seem. My next thought is the weight against my right hand and when I look down to it I'm met with a mess of dark hair a beautiful sleeping face. Her cheek is pressed against the back of my hand in hers, body slumped over the side of the bed in what looks like a ridiculously uncomfortable position. I attempt to speak but only my lips move and nothing else happens. I feel fatigued and am so worried that I'll be captured by unconsciousness again at any moment that I can't wait another second to talk to her, to see her fully, for her to see me. With all the effort that I can muster I lift my thumb and brush in against her jaw. Her skin is smooth and warm and her expression so peaceful and emotionless that I almost feel bad for trying to wake her. But when her eyes open and the realization of what is happening hits her the relief that washes across her face is so clear it makes me smile, which in turn makes her smile though neither of us can see how any part of this moment is anything to smile about.

"Your awake." She says in almost disbelief.

I try to speak again but just like the last time nothing really happens except a low rasp and a dry stinging in the base of my throat. She notices and seconds later there is a straw between my lips and I'm pulling in the most heavenly crystal cool water that's ever graced my tongue.

"There was an accident..." She begins to explain looking unsure about it but I stop her doing my best to nod my head.

"I know." I manage, my horse voice cracking from lack of use.

She nods too, slipping her hand back into mine and I look down at them. Her hand against mine and its my turn to be in disbelief, because there is not a ring on her finger. No wedding ring, no engagement ring. She must see me looking because she's speaking again, her voice calm and gentle.

"I didn't do it, we didn't get married."

"But... why?" I ask stupidly because even as I lay in a hospital bed after what was clearly a terrible accident all I can think about is why Rachel did not marry Finn and what that meant for me.

"Because..." She pauses looking down at our hands and slipping her fingers between mine giving it a squeeze and looking back up at me. "Because when I heard I just..." and now she's crying, shaking her head like she can't finish.

"Hey, its ok. I'm ok, please don't cry..." But even as I say this I can feel tears welling up in my own eyes.

"I think I'm in love with you Quinn." She states, somehow making unsure words sound so sure.

I'm speechless and if I wasn't laying in this bed I would kick myself because this moment is what I've been waiting for all along and I can't find the words to tell her that I love her too. That I need her.

"...I'm just so glad your ok." She continues not even phased by my lack of words.

I blink a few times and I know its a mistake because I can feel it again. The sleep finding its way along my body, creeping up over my eyelids and clouding my thoughts. I'm trying to fight it and think of what to say at the same time but am failing so fast it hurts. Gripping her hand as hard as I can manage, which I'm sure isn't very much, I hope she knows what I mean. I hope she can feel how I feel and know that I am not purposely ignoring her words and choosing to drift away. My eyes are dropping closed and in my head I am cursing the medication that is making me this way, no matter how much pain I'd be in without them, but somehow she knows.

"Its ok Quinn, just rest. I'm here." Her hand squeezing mine back and her words lingering in my ears as my last bit of consciousness flutters away.

She loves me.