Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

and after all's been said and done

who said it best, were you the one

let's just forget, leave it behind

and carry on 

Groggy from a perpetual lack of sleep, Christen swipes her phone off the nightstand to cut off Norah Jones urging her to just forget and carry on. Plopping back down on the mattress, face hiding in her pillow, she revels in drowsiness for a blissful couple of seconds before reality smacks her in the face.

The intense little shockwave of realization hits her just as hard today as it has every morning for the past couple of weeks. Life started pelting her with carefully aimed lemons on the first day of February and hasn't relented since. She has no way of protecting herself against such an assault, because she's just too tired to put up a fight. She'll take the hits and pray for a quick recovery from the bone-deep bruises they leave behind.

Sitting up, she drops her face in her hands and takes a few deep breaths to stave off her tears. She doesn't want to start off her day with sadness and hopelessness, even if that's exactly what she's feeling. Sad. Hopeless. Like she's lost the best parts of herself. Because she has and by now, she's pretty sure she's not getting them back.

The phone in her hand buzzes twice. Without looking, she knows it's her Mom asking how she feels today. It's a question she doesn't know the answer to, because she doesn't know how she feels just yet. Some days she's numb and feels nothing, other days she's afraid she'll go crazy from feeling everything all at once. It's a "regular" grieving process or so everyone says, but she really couldn't care less about what everyone says. Her grieving process can be called anything but regular, because Tobin hasn't died. It isn't as simple as a breakup, either, because they were very much together when disaster struck.

So, no, the love of her life didn't die and she didn't leave. Well, not of her own free will, Christen reckons. Tobin just sorta, kinda forgot. About Christen and their entire relationship and that's where the grieving kicks in.

She'll never forget that awful phone call for as long as she lives. She's changed her ringtone since then, because Ed Sheeran will never be able to make her sing along to that particular tune ever again. She remembers standing on the sidewalk of their new home with brushes in one hand and a bucket of olive green wall paint in the other when her phone started blaring the lyrics to "Perfect". Tobin's ringtone. 

Instead of hearing the soothing sound of her girlfriend's voice, Christen's spoken to by a stranger telling her that they're calling because she's listed as Tobin Heath's emergency contact and that there's been an accident. The brushes leave her hand as she feels around her for something to lean on, sort of crashing into the side of her car when her knees start to buckle.

The woman on the other end tells her to come to the hospital right away, but to make sure she gets there safely and to call a taxi, friend or family member to take her there if she's too upset to get there by herself. Christen just nods along to everything the woman says but registers exactly nothing of what she's being told. She's infinitely grateful when, after hanging up, she receives a text message from the hospital with the where, the how and the who to meet there.

With trembling hands she punches a button on her phone. When Tobin's voice comes through, telling her to leave a voicemail, Christen realizes her first instinct had been to call the one person able to calm her down when she's drowning in anxiety. Hearing the low and slow timbre of Tobin's voice, hearing her smile around the words, brings her back to a harsh reality. Tobin's in the hospital and Christen needs to get to her ASAP.

Looking back on it now, she's surprised she'd gotten to the hospital without causing another accident. The brain is a wondrous thing, shifting to automatic pilot the moment things get to be too much. It's ironic to think about how her brain shutting down had been what had gotten her to the hospital safely.

Christen's been having a lot of thoughts lately. Some are just stupid and irrelevant, like whether someone picked up her paint and brushes from the sidewalk. Did she lock the door to the new place before she hurried off to the hospital? How there's a dent in her car on the driver's side and how she doesn't remember how it got there. It's these thoughts that stop her from thinking about the things that do matter.

At night, tired of fighting her feelings all day, she tends to give in to them. She's got a lot of angst going on in those moments. Thinking about the future hurts like hell, because in most of her worst case scenarios, Tobin isn't with her. She thinks about having to sell the new house and how she's going to have to figure out where to live when it comes to that. Her apartment has already been rented out and she can't afford the mortgage on the new house on her own. Her parents have offered to take her in, but Christen doesn't see how that could work. She loves her parents, she truly does, but she's been on her own for years now and she can't imagine having to live with Mom and Dad again. She accepts it as her last resort.

Just because Tobin doesn't remember her, doesn't mean Christen forgets as well. In her darkest moments she wishes it were that easy, but she feels guilty the moment she thinks it. She won't wish away the memories she has of meeting Tobin and falling head over heels in love with her. She doesn't want to forget about her broad and beautiful smile or her boisterous laughter, feeling an exceptional kind of special when she's the cause of either. No matter what happens, no matter how this is going to end, Christen will always honor her relationship with Tobin. If it means having to bow out eventually, well, she's thought about that too. If it helps Tobin, she thinks she will.

~

Christen thinks this is what the aftermath of the apocalypse must look and feel like. She wanders the apartment, dazed and confused, trying to find some semblance of peace in the mementos of her life with Tobin.

There's the beer stain on the coffee table and the dent in the refrigerator door. The worn out loveseat they snuggle up in during movie nights, the one they refuse to replace because it holds so many memories. The brand new bed with the antiquated quilt, books on the nightstand, clothes on the bedroom floor, Tobin's shampoo in the bathroom. It's all there, but it doesn't feel real. Nothing does.

She's been numb from the moment she'd been asked to leave the hospital. Being surrounded by people she doesn't know causes Tobin stress and stress hinders the healing process is what they tell her. Logically, Christen knows it's a plausible reason to be asked (told) to stop dropping by the hospital every day, but her heart doesn't know logic. It doesn't know reason and it certainly doesn't care about plausible excuses. 

Cindy Heath pleads with her to understand their decision to protect Tobin from all the confusion and all the anxiety caused by so many unknown faces. She gives in despite the overwhelming need to argue. But the situation's bad enough as it is and she doesn't want to add more stress to it. On the condition of getting one last moment alone with Tobin, under the guise of being a good friend and dropping off a few belongings, she agrees to stop visiting.

So now there's a duffel bag by the front door. It's stuffed with faded jeans and worn t-shirts, an envelope filled with pictures tucked away in one of the side pockets. Christen's tempted to smuggle clues in between the rolled up shirts just to see if they'll jog Tobin's memory. Maybe a tiny spritz of perfume on the collar of her favorite hooded sweatshirt, but in the end she rules it out. It's just wishful thinking, anyway. If meeting eye to eye didn't do the trick, Christen's hard pressed to believe stuff like that will.

In the morning she'll carry that duffel bag out to her car, effectively cutting Tobin out of her life by returning the remaining pieces of a life they'd always thought they'd spend together.

If she sleeps at all, she dreams. Sometimes about the good parts, most times about the bad parts. Her nightmares are filled with memories of not being recognized and the empty, questioning stare in those still so familiar eyes. At night, her mind edits the worst images, thoughts and feelings into something resembling a horror movie and when she wakes, she loses Tobin all over again.

~

Pulling up to the hospital, Tobin's bag on the passenger seat, Christen's a few deep breaths away from a full out anxiety attack. This giving in to Tobin's family feels a lot like giving up, signing away a future with the woman she loves more than anything or anyone else. Sitting in her car in the hospital parking lot, Christen says goodbye to the life she thought they'd have. The life they were supposed to have. She tries to let go of the fantasies of a picture perfect wedding day, picking out a home together with a yard big enough for a couple of dogs and, a few years down the line, a couple of kids to run around in. It's a sobering thought. The ice running through her veins steels her enough to finally get out the car, game face on.

She finds Tobin's room with deliberate steps, her heels tapping a steady beat against the murky yellow tile of the hospital hallways. She will not linger. It's just a drop off. She'll be in and out and it'll mark the end of this chapter of her life. In time, she hopes to welcome Tobin back into her life, but for now, Christen knows she needs to let her go so she can heal.

Reaching room 665, Christen doesn't pause before knocking. Pushing through is the only way to get this done. Tobin tells her to come in and with a small prayer for strength, Christen takes the first step towards a future that no longer includes Tobin.

~

Tobin watches her walk in, an uncertain smile on her face. There's recognition there, but no familiarity. Christen has visited before, so Tobin knows who she is. Knows Christen's name. Thinks she's a friend.

"Hey," Christen greets her, taking in Tobin's pale face, the way her already too thin frame seems to have lost a couple of pounds more.

"Hey, Christen", Tobin offers in return, her voice small and tired. Its impact on Christen is anything but small. Hearing Tobin say her name feels like someone's taken a sledge hammer to her chest and suddenly she's not so certain this saying goodbye thing will be as swift and practical as she'd sworn to herself it would be.

Christen walks closer but holds up at the foot end of the bed. Any closer and she will be able to take in Tobin's scent. She'll feel tempted to pat down flyaway hairs or do something as stupid as lean in for a hug or, even worse, a kiss. It's just best to keep a safe distance, because Christen has never been able to help herself where Tobin's concerned. Always wanting to touch, just to make sure she's really there and really hers. Tobin takes care of her always and in every way. Losing that, losing Tobin, is the most devastating loss she will ever suffer.

"I brought you some clothes," Christen tells her, holding up the duffel before setting it on the ground.

Tobin nods, her eyes never leaving Christen's. The questioning stare is back and Christen doesn't know how to respond to that laser-like look. Tobin's eyes are flitting across her features with an intensity Christen's intimately familiar with. It's like she's forcing herself to remember, willing her brain to link together all the scattered pieces of her memories.

Christen crosses her arms over her stomach, shielding herself from the force of Tobin's unrelenting gaze. She should probably say something. Move, maybe, to break the spell they both seem to be under, but Christen selfishly revels in being the center of Tobin's attention. If this is the last time they'll be seeing each other for the foreseeable future, she's allowed to be a little bit selfish.

The thought only lasts a couple of seconds more before reality comes crashing down around them. Tobin's face scrunches up in pain, eyes closed while one hand reaches up to grab for her head wound and the other tightly grips her bed sheets.

Seeing her lover in agony breaks Christen's heart. It also tells her she's doing the right thing by walking away. It may be for just a little while or it may be for forever, but right now, there's nothing she can do to make Tobin feel better. Taking the past ten minutes into account, it seems she can only make things worse.

Gathering her courage, Christen finally moves closer. Tobin's eyes are still closed, but the pain appears to be subsiding. Her hands have returned to a relaxed state, now resting on the blanket where it covers her thighs. Christen feels an almost irrepressible urge to reach out and touch Tobin's face just one more time. One touch, gliding the back of her fingers over the flawless skin of a cheekbone or her fingertips trailing that familiar path from her long neck down to her collar bone.

It's time to leave.

"Tobin, I'm gonna go. Let you rest," she whispers, voice cracking. The sound prompts Tobin to open her eyes and focus on the woman by her bedside once more. Another searching look, as if she's desperately trying to figure out what's happening, but Christen really needs to walk away before she breaks.

She steps back from the bed as she takes one more lingering look at the woman who's been her whole world for the blissful years they've been together. One more look before she turns around and sprints out of the room, ignoring the sting in her eyes and the cracks in her heart and the echo of Tobin's voice asking herself what the hell is going on.

~

Tobin's confused. Okay, so she's been confused since waking up after the accident, but this feels different. This feels like a brain teaser, knowing she knows the answer, but the outcome escapes her every single time she thinks about it. It's driving her mad.

It's been over a week since the girl with the pretty green eyes fled her hospital room. She hasn't heard from Christen since, but Tobin can't stop thinking about her. The way she'd hurried out of her room, overcome with emotion, has left quite an impact on Tobin and it just won't let her be.

She's asked her mom about Christen, but the answer doesn't fit. She's a friend, her mom says. A good friend. Someone important to Tobin, but that's all the information her mom is willing to share. Tobin knows there's more. She feels it with every fiber of her being, but backs off when Cindy changes the subject to the progress she's making physically. The subject will be revisited soon and mother Heath knows it, already dreading that moment. Her daughter isn't one to let the important things go.

The moment she's alone in her room, Tobin reaches for the drawer of her bedside table. Inside is the envelope with pictures Christen brought her and sifting through them has been her favorite pastime since finding them in her duffel bag.

The pictures don't tell her much of anything. She's posing in a couple of them, in others she's caught unawares, but most of them are pretty pictures of beaches and oceans, forests and mountains and Tobin knows she's taken these herself just by looking at them. The scenes feel familiar, but she had no memories to back up those feelings. On the one hand she wants to pin them to the bulletin board above her bed, on the other she wants to keep them for herself, because they feel important and intimate. With the utmost care, she tucks them back into the envelope after each viewing session, trying to figure out why Christen wanted her to have these in the first place and how the beautiful girl fits into her story.

In an hour from now Tobin will know what the immediate future holds for her. It's been a month and a half since the accident. Her bruises disappeared weeks ago and her broken ribs are mostly healed. The only thing stopping the doctors from discharging her is the minor detail of her missing memories, a detail Tobin doesn't feel should stop her from going home. So what if she doesn't remember a couple of faces and the names attached to them. It's not like she's forgotten how to cook or clean or take care of herself in general. Unfortunately, Tobin's the only one not concerned about leaving the safety of the hospital. Over six weeks of staring at the same walls and out of the same window with its incredibly lacking view. Heck, the only interesting things she's seen these past weeks are hidden away in the drawer of her bedside table and the woman bringing them with her. Tobin can't wait to get out of this godforsaken place and find out why it is that she can't stop thinking about Christen.

~

Going back to work has proven more difficult than Christen thought it would be. She needs the distraction, true, but can she really call it that when the only thing that changes is where she thinks about how her life's in shambles and how she has no clue how to pick up the pieces? She certainly has no business telling other people how to handle their problems, no matter the diploma's hanging on the walls in her office. Her degrees in psychology are doing her a fat lot of good right now, aren't they? The irony does not escape her.

The blonde currently occupying the seat across from her is a regular. Thankfully, she's also a talker, leaving Christen with the one task of humming and nodding in appropriate intervals. Later on, she'll feel very unprofessional for spacing out, but listening to someone going on and on about abandonment issues because her parents wouldn't let her get a dog seems trivial in light of her own situation.

'Try being left behind by the love of your life because she can't remember a thing about you or your relationship and then get back to me on abandonment issues,' Christen scoffs silently, instantly feeling guilty. With a mental kick in the behind, she tries to shake it off. Blondie's still rambling and Christen thinks it might be time to take some notes, already knowing she's missed the most important parts.

When the day ends, finally, she dashes out of the office, avoiding the well-meaning, sympathetic conversations with her co-workers. She'll scream if she hears one more person tell her how sorry they are and how they can't imagine being forgotten by their partner/spouse/significant other. Christen agrees. They can't. It's the loneliest feeling ever and every conversation about it feels like pouring salt into a festering wound and she's done talking about it.

She's just about to start her car when her phone starts ringing.

[Mother Heath calling], the display tells her. Great. And just when she thought her day couldn't get any worse.

Back at the hospital, Tobin's recovering from the talk with her doctors. Well, to be honest, her doctors weren't really the problem. The real problem is her mother. Her wonderful, sweet and loving, caring, overbearing mother. The one person who doesn't trust Tobin to be able to take care of herself once she leaves the hospital, even though both her neurologist and the attending physician assure her she'll be fine on her own. Tobin's sound of mind, they say. At least she was before the conversation she's just had and her mom interrupting her just about every other sentence.

Tobin's mad. She doesn't understand her mother's dogged determination, despite what the doctors are telling them. Cindy Heath wants Tobin to come and stay with her for the time being. Not just because she's worried, although that's a big part of it. There's also the minor concern of Tobin not having a home to go to and Cindy's not entirely sure how to slide that tidbit of information into a conversation just yet.

She'll need to talk to Christen first.

~

"Let me get this straight," Christen fumes, though her voice is controlled. A little on the frosty side, maybe.

"Weeks ago you begged me to walk away from Tobin and now you're begging me to move in with her?" She all but hisses. It's totally not her style, but she's about to absolutely lose her shit in the middle of a restaurant during rush hour. She should've never called back. Should've never agreed to meet Cindy Heath for lunch to "discuss Tobin's progress". She feels baited by the woman across from her and now, a mere ten minutes into this meeting, she feels the sharp sting of an unexpected hook.

How can they possibly ask her this? Enticing her with a future she's trying to let go of. Asking her to go ahead with moving into the new house together, as friends. It's cruel and it's selfish and Christen wants to say 'Hell no!', but also 'Hell, yes!', because how can she not?

She feels like she's going to puke all over the fancy table cloth. It's a good thing she hasn't ordered anything yet, lunging for the tall glass of ice water to help prevent coughing up the granola she had for breakfast. Gulping down bile as well as a few choice words, Christen tries to regain her mental balance. She'd love to throw down right here, right now, but her Mom and Dad taught her better than that. Also, Tobin probably frowns upon people trying to throttle her mother at an upscale restaurant in downtown Los Angeles. That would make living together even more awkward and, oh God, is she actually considering this now?

Cindy squirms in her seat, eyes on her fidgeting hands. She's not familiar with this side of the soft-spoken woman Tobin introduced to them years ago. Christen's never been anything other than sweet and polite in their company, so Cindy knows she’s witnessing a rare phenomenon. Because Christen’s angry. Absolutely furious. Her eyes are the color of a raging storm at sea, dark green and gray, focused solely on the audacious woman daring to ask her to make such an impossible decision.

There are countless reasons to say no. To stick Mrs. Heath with the bill of this train wreck and just walk out and never look back. But it’s Tobin. And she would never turn her back on Tobin. Christen has a feeling it's for exactly this reason she’s in this predicament. Everyone knows she’d never say no, no matter how bad of an idea it truly is. It will mean lying to Tobin, even if it's by omission and for just that reason alone, Christen should decline. Karma is a thing and Christen believes in it wholeheartedly. If she does this, it’ll surely come back to bite her in a place where it’ll hurt the most and it’ll linger. And still she’s considering it. Because of Tobin.

According to Cindy, Tobin refuses to move in with her parents after leaving the hospital, firmly stating she’s perfectly able to take care of herself. Tobin wants to go home, but no one in her family has found the words, nor the courage, to tell Tobin that she doesn’t really have a home. At least, not one she remembers.

Out of morbid curiosity, Christen asks for the game plan, should they go ahead with this crazy idea. In the end, it all sounds ridiculously easy. All they really have to do is to convince Tobin that moving in with Christen was the plan all along, which isn’t a complete lie. Christen likes that part the best. The part she likes the least is the hope sparking in her chest. Hope that proximity may cause Tobin to remember her or, and this is where the lines start to blur, that Tobin will fall in love with her all over again. She’s selfish enough, or maybe foolish enough to give it a go, better judgment be damned. Later that afternoon, roaming the apartment, with plans made and script written, she cries. She curses Cindy and her power of persuasion and her own fragile heart for wanting things she’s not sure it can ever have again, but she refuses to give those things up without a fight, even if it's a dirty one.

Chapter Text

Life's a roller coaster after that. She finishes painting the house and could probably rinse her brushes in the buckets of tears she cries. She's caught between hope and fear, both feelings fighting for the top spot pretty consistently from the moment she wakes up until she goes to bed and even then they won't let her fall asleep.

In two days, Tobin will be discharged, so it's T minus 48 hours and Christen hasn't spoken to her since that rather dramatic exit from the hospital. According to Cindy it didn't take much to convince Tobin to share an address with her "good friend Christen". It doesn't take a lot to convince Christen that Tobin would have agreed to live pretty much anywhere but with her parents, either, so there's that. As sobering a thought as it is, it doesn't do anything to stop the butterflies from lifting off in her stomach. In two days she'll be sharing a space with Tobin again and just thinking about it terrifies her as much as it exhilarates her.

She knows her parents are worried. Her sisters call her stupid and crazy respectively and the Press Pack as a whole believes that heartbreak will be the inevitable outcome, but Christen doesn't care. Well, she cares, but not enough to let them talk her out of living with Tobin even though she knows it's going to be one of the biggest challenges she's ever had to face. She feels she owes it to herself to give it a go. The worst thing that can happen is that it won't work out and that she'll lose Tobin all over again. Christen's sure it won't hurt as much the second time around.

The new place is set up with the help of friends and family (mostly Tobin's). Deciding where to put the couch or where to hang the tv feels more daunting than it should. Christen questions every decision she makes, wondering what her roomie-to-be wants. She could just call and ask, but that means actually talking to Tobin and Christen is kind of actively avoiding that. She's afraid she'll either confess as soon as she hears the other woman's voice or that she'll burst into tears because she misses her like crazy and the prospect of living with Tobin but not living with Tobin tears the scabs right off her slow healing heart.

Caught between two less than ideal prognoses, she chooses the path of least resistance and doesn't choose at all. Instead she focuses on making two separate beds and filling two separate closets. She'll let Tobin decorate her own bedroom, not knowing what she does and doesn't remember and not wanting to screw up. It hurts, but the sting of it keeps her focused. She has a little less than two days left to get her head into the game. She can do this.

~

T minus ten minutes (give or take…)

Christen's been running around the house all morning, trying to perfect perfection. There's a vase filled with wild flowers on the coffee table. They're Tobin's favorite. The smell of freshly baked apple pie permeates the house, because Christen read somewhere that most people associate the smell with home and it makes them feel welcome. It doesn't hurt that Tobin happens to love apple pie, so it's a win-win situation.

Not knowing what else to do to curb her restlessness, Christen keeps fluffing pillows and wiping nonexistent dust from spotless surfaces. As if Tobin would notice any of it, she thinks, rolling her eyes. Tobin has been known to "dust" the tv — in passing — with just the sleeve of her hoodie. It makes her wonder how many of those maddening habits remain and how it's possible she misses them so much. They used to drive her crazy, fueling an argument or two (or ten) about doing things the "adult way", leading Tobin into a series of inappropriate jokes about housekeeping and flat surfaces. Man, she really misses those moments.

A knock on the front door saves her from an undoubtedly painful and never-ending trip down memory lane, but now she feels like she's about to dive off a cliff into uncharted waters. Taking a deep breath, Christen heads for the door, jumping off that cliff. To sink or swim are her only options.

~

Hours later, looking back on her day, Christen feels proud of herself for being strong enough to lead Tobin through the house without breaking down every time Tobin points out a certain feature she likes. Those features being the same things she'd loved about the house on their first viewing of the property. Tobin falls in love with the same spare bedroom all over again, waxing lyrical about the huge windows and its natural light and how it'll be a perfect studio for painting.

The upstairs bathroom draws the same awed reaction it did the first time. Thinking about a wide-eyed Tobin taking in the huge bath and the state of the art shower makes Christen smile even hours after the fact. Tobin's childlike wonder is still very much a part of her personality and Christen will make sure to thank Tobin's God for that blessed discovery before she goes to sleep tonight.

One of the trickiest parts of today has been showing Tobin a bedroom all her own. It's a near empty room with olive green walls and just a simple single bed, waiting to be filled by Tobin and her belongings. Christen's room is on the other side of the hallway, a space twice as large with the comfiest king sized bed and all the other furnishings they picked out together, but that door stays closed during their little tour. Christen is not yet prepared for having images — memories — of Tobin in that room.

Despite the confrontational bits of today, the trickiest parts have not been the tour or the continuous reminders of the life they don't get to live together. Yes, all of that hurts, but Tobin's alive and they're together even if they're not together and Christen's thankful for the crumbs, even if she's hungry for so much more.

No, the hardest part is not getting to touch Tobin the way she wants to. The way she's used to. She finds herself reaching out in more than one instance, because of a certain look or a certain smile, drawing traitorous hands back just in time. Touching Tobin comes as naturally as it always has and the effort it takes to not fuck up is of herculean proportions.

Sinking back into the couch she focuses on the familiar footfalls making their way across the second floor. Christen tracks Tobin's steps from room to room until she hears the shower start. The few minutes alone make it a little easier to breathe and center herself. She needs to get a grip on her feelings and, more importantly, on her wandering hands if she wants this to work. She's so tired by the day's events that she falls asleep where she sits, comforted in the knowledge that the woman she loves is home and, for now, it's all that matters.

When Tobin trudges down the stairs fifteen minutes later, Christen's out like a light. Tobin can't help but feel the pull towards the sleeping woman. Sitting herself down on the coffee table right in front of Christen, she carefully studies the slumbering form of her new roommate, knowing with absolute certainty that there is more to their story than everyone's letting on. Tobin's pretty sure she knows exactly how that story goes if Christen's behavior today is anything to go by. There's an undeniable intensity in the way she looks at Tobin and her irises change color depending on the emotions she tries to hide. She's borne witness to quite a spectrum of feelings flashing through those pretty eyes, confirming what Tobin's known since Christen's visit at the hospital. They're close. Very close. It's not just the open book sleeping two feet away from her making her sure of it, but also the almost irrepressible desire to cuddle up this beautiful woman and knowing it'll feel like coming home.

With a sigh Tobin resigns herself to the fact that the getting to know each other (again?) will have to wait for tomorrow. One last look, another wistful sigh, and she's off to bed. She already can't wait to meet Christen in the morning.

~

Christen's sinking. Like a millstone. She's tried swimming, had to downgrade to doggy paddling and is now officially treading water as if her life depends on it.

Their first morning together after Tobin moves in, Christen's already forgetting all the don'ts of this operation. Padding into the kitchen, she finds Tobin's familiar figure at the stove, expertly flipping pancakes in an iron skillet. It's such a familiar sight that Christen's body moves on autopilot, moving around the kitchen island like a heat seeking missile, ready to plaster herself against Tobin's back. Thankfully, her brain moves her feet in a different direction before impact can be made, her bright red cheekbones the only evidence of her near-miss as she opens the refrigerator door, grateful for the cool air on her heated cheeks.

Puttering around the kitchen together, Christen is the only one to notice how they still move around each other with well practiced ease. Where Christen goes, Tobin makes room for her and vice versa, as if they've been sharing a space for much longer than just one day. To Christen, it's yet another sign that her Tobin is still in there somewhere and it's the number one reason why she won't let her family talk her out of this. When Tobin serves her blueberry pancakes with whipped cream instead of maple syrup, it only strengthens her conviction.

~

Sitting at the breakfast counter, Christen feels Tobin's gaze on her more times than she's comfortable with. Does she have something on her face? Whipped cream maybe? A piece of pancake? She wipes both cheeks with her right hand, but there's nothing there as far as she can tell. Glancing up, she catches Tobin in the act, making the other woman blush as she stares right back. It's actually quite adorable, Christen thinks, but it also makes her a little uncomfortable, because normally she'd address it and have a little fun at Tobin's expense, but that was before. She needs a decoy, mostly for herself.

"Any plans for the day?" She blurts between bites of her pancakes.

"Not really," Tobin shrugs, "I should go shopping, probably. Wanna come with?"

While her phrasing appears casual, her intonation sounds anything but and Christen's heart grows another size knowing Tobin wants to spend the day with her. When she nods in agreement, a hint of satisfaction colors those dark brown irises and it has Christen blushing as if she's about to go on a first date with this goofball all over again.

Needing to flee the scene, she and her pink ears and rose colored cheeks hurry for the kitchen door, throwing a "Meet you by the front door in ten?" over her shoulder while she exits.

Tobin doesn't bother answering her, simply nodding at Christen's suggestion as she watches her escape the room with knowing eyes.

~

Unfortunately, their shopping trip proves more trying than either participant thought possible. While Tobin acts like she doesn't have a care in the world, Christen's starting to see all the differences between this Tobin and her Tobin and it's stressing her out.

Christen still sees a lot of the "before", but she no longer feels part of it. When Tobin eagerly suggests stopping into a toy store, Christen puts up a fight – playfully, as she always does – but her forgetful girlfriend completely misreads the situation, thinking she's committing a cardinal sin. It ends in apologies from either side, even though Tobin has nothing to be sorry for.

Miscommunication seems to be the word of the day, however. It doesn't stop with the toy store incident. Tobin doesn't remember her coffee order when Christen tells her to just get her their usual. Tobin doesn't join her in embarrassed laughter when they pass the swanky clothing store they got banned from because of "changing room shenanigans". They used to have a pattern – a rhythm – but Christen's the only one who remembers. It hurts and it shows.

Tobin's fallen quiet since their awkward moment in the coffee shop, not entirely oblivious to her shopping buddy's mood swing. There's a big difference between knowing what's wrong and knowing what to do about it, especially in a situation like theirs, so she stops talking altogether, afraid of making it worse for the woman walking beside her who's trying, but failing, to hide her pain. Tobin feels like an imposter. A fraud. She's obviously not meeting certain expectations, even if Christen's trying very hard to look and sound okay.

She's so not okay. Having Tobin next to her makes it way too easy to forget about the fact that Christen has no idea anymore about what makes her tick. She's never met this version of her girlfriend, the one who's years younger and whose version of reality doesn't include their relationship yet. She knows of her, of course, through the stories Tobin's told over the years, but all those fragments fail to paint a complete picture of the complex woman she's sharing a house with now. It's a troubling thought, because she basically lives with a stranger and how could that ever be a good thing?

With no words exchanged they find their way back to the parking lot, both eager to get home and put some distance between them. Christen finds her way behind the wheel of her Prius while Tobin plops into the passenger seat. With one trembling hand on the wheel and the other shifting the car in reverse, Christen bites her lip to stop herself from either starting a conversation she isn't ready for or — even worse — bursting into tears from feeling so dejected.

They share a silent ride home with Tobin practically fleeing the awkwardness by running up the stairs and finding refuge in her room. Christen waits until she hears the click of a door closing before trekking up the steps and heading for her room as well, hoping the weirdness between them can be chalked up to growing pains or whatever the equivalent is in their particular case. She refuses to think about the alternative.

~

Christen's on the bed flipping through a photo album when there's a knock on her door about an hour later. Granted permission to enter, a hesitant Tobin carefully steps over the threshold, leaving the door open behind her on purpose.

Seeing the album in Christen's lap, Tobin can't help but move closer, curious about the pictures glued to its pages. She's reminded of the stack of photo's Christen tucked into her duffel a few weeks ago and maybe this is what they should've started with.

"May I?"

Christen watches her with guarded eyes, apprehension delaying her answer.

Tobin understands. If her hunch about the two of them is right, it'll just be another reminder of all the things Tobin doesn't remember about them and the chances of Christen getting hurt, again and even more so, are very high.

With an eventual nod, Christen scoots off the bed, tucking the photo album under her arm. She'll show Tobin all the pictures she longs to see, but not in this room and certainly not in this bed. She may be a fool, but she's no masochist.

Motioning for Tobin to follow her, Christen moves for the open door and passes through it without looking back, missing the way Tobin glances back at the rumpled comforter and suddenly grimaces in pain, grabbing for her head the same way she did back at the hospital. It only lasts a few seconds, leaving behind one hell of a headache, but Tobin's starting to think these episodes deserve more attention than she's been giving them up until now.

When she gets downstairs, she finds Christen on the couch. This seating arrangement means they'll be sitting close to each other and Tobin doesn't mind that situation at all. The moment her butt touches the couch cushion, Christen opens the photo album, showing her pictures very similar to the ones brought to her in the hospital.

"Did I take these?" Tobin asks after a moment as she reaches over to run a finger over one of the glossy photographs inside the book that rests on Christen's knees. Tobin eyes a picture of Maligne Lake, not remembering shooting it, but there's a familiarity in its angle and its lighting. It's definitely one of hers and so are the rest of them, she concludes when she takes in more shots of, what appears to be, a trip to Canada.

Christen doesn't look up from the album, staring at it unseeingly for a few seconds before answering Tobin's question. "You did," she admits in a near whisper, bracing herself for the inevitable next question.

Tobin watches Christen shift in her seat, knowing she's hitting too close to home, but she's unwilling to let this moment of truth pass by. "It's no coincidence my pictures are in a book on a shelf in your home, is it?"

In the awkward silence that follows Tobin imagines she can actually hear the wild beating of Christen's heart. She's afraid she's overstepped and is about to apologize for being so forward when Christen simply shakes her head in answer.

"I lived here? With you?"

Christen keeps staring straight ahead, gaze seemingly fixed on the coffee table, but she's not taking anything in. Tobin's questions overwhelm her. It feels like she's losing at a game she was supposed to play and she's disappointed in herself for throwing in the towel so soon. She could lie again, of course, but that's not how she rolls. Now that Tobin is asking after the truth — and Christen knows Tobin knows exactly what the truth is — she refuses to lie (again) about who they are to each other.

"No, not here, but we did live together," Christen confesses, her voice wavering. She's trying so hard to stop the flood of emotions from trying to pull her under, but she's only semi successful as she feels a lone tear track its way down her cheek. Embarrassed, she tries to turn away, but Tobin scoots closer and then a gentle hand slips over one of her own in an obvious gesture of comfort. It only makes her cry harder and when Tobin takes her into her arms, their strength so welcome and so achingly familiar, she breaks. The words falling from Christen's mouth are as plentiful as her tears, but Tobin doesn't miss a single one of them as her girlfriend — and she'll freak out about this fact later — spills the beans on who they are to each other and how it all came to be.

~

They meet at a junior league soccer pitch in the middle of a cloud-burst. With kids and parents rushing around them trying to find solace from the rain, Tobin and Christen can't seem to find the purpose to do the same despite the water already soaking through their shirts and shorts.

It's all very cliché and Tobin will never live down the teasing she'll surely have to endure from both her best friends when she tells them about it later on, but she feels struck by lightning when she crashes into the lean body stopping her forward movement. She looks up. That's it. That's the story. Because the body has a face and a voice and Tobin is instantly in love with all three, unable to form so much as an apology for potentially harming the celestial being she bumped into. Speechless.

This, of course, is not how Christen tells the story. She's heard Tobin tell it exactly like this a few dozen times, but it's not Christen's story and she can only tell her own side of things. It seems too hard at first, to dig so deeply into what she thinks is lost, but once she starts talking, Christen's unable to stop.

Between lots of laughter and a couple of tears she tells the story from her own perspective. The soccer game she was never supposed to be at, the weather delay and the realization that love at first sight is most definitely a thing when she looks back on meeting Tobin in the middle of that downpour.

She's shy when she talks of their first date and their first kiss on that same night. She recounts other memorable moments and milestones, realizing she could fill a book with the chapters of their lives together, even if they've only been together for three short years. She talks of meeting the parents — on both sides — and finally pays attention again to the photo album in her lap to show Tobin the pictures of their day trips and vacations, holidays and other get-togethers. It doesn't jog a single memory, something both Christen and Tobin had secretly hoped for, but it feels good to talk about the time they've spent together.

Christen weaves a compelling tale and Tobin hangs on her lips, hoping she'll remember it all very soon. She wants to be the person from those stories. She wants the memories of their first date and their first kiss and of the way she tumbled down the steps of the Press residence on her first visit because of an overeager Morena and her need to collect cuddles from Christen before Khaleesi. She wants to know about every first and every highlight. She wants it back, the life she shares with Christen, because it sounds like the best damn thing ever and it kills her to have lost it. She'll say her prayers tonight and in them she'll ask God to grant her reprieve from these hellish circumstances. She'll ask him to let her remember being loved by a woman like Christen. She will get her life back. She has faith.

When Christen stops talking, a prolonged silence follows. She's caught between two realities — then and now — and it takes a few moments for her to drift back to earth. She looks exhausted and entirely too emotional to be asked any more questions that Tobin should know the answers to. She knows enough for now. She knows she's loved, fiercely and unconditionally, by a woman who refuses to give up on her and Tobin promises to herself, to Christen and to God up above, that she'll fight just as hard to be the woman Christen deserves, whether she'll get her memories back or not.