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Remember Me? [CH1]

admission

Title: Remember Me?

Timeline: Post season-6 finale.

Summary: When Liz wakes up in the hospital having lost three years of memory, she’s about to find out just how much things have changed. Inspired by Sophie Kinsella’s novel of the same name. All belongs to her and Tina; I own nothing!

Pairing: Jack/Liz

~

Owww. When Liz Lemon half-wakes up, she’s so woozy that she can’t think, let alone open her eyes. She lies there for a while, wondering if it is morning yet, and why her head hurts so much. Bits of the night before swim in her head, and she has the impression that there was some heavy drinking involved. Certainly a monstrous hangover would explain her splitting headache.

God, she is never drinking again, ever.

Somewhere far off she thinks there is a voice…but no, she has to sleep…




How long has she been awake? Five minutes? Half an hour, maybe? It’s kinda hard to tell. She still feels rough, her head pounding with a rhythmic pain, and she realizes that she’s not positive what day it is. As her body gains full consciousness, she can feel that her eyelids are welded shut with that gross crusty stuff that shows up during sleep.

Awesome.

Cautiously, she moves a hand up to her face and hears a rustle of sheets. They don’t sound like her ones at home, or feel like them for that matter (the absence of assorted snack food crumbs is a dead giveaway). With a huge effort, she wrenches her eyes open and lifts her head a few inches.

What the what—?

She’s lying in a dim hospital room, with a panel of buttons to the right of the metal bed and a bunch of flowers on the night table. The TV overhead is muted, and a daytime TV host that Liz doesn’t recognize gestures animatedly to his crowd. With a swallow, she notices the IV drop in her left hand, attached to a bag of fluid. This is not good.

Suddenly, a middle-aged nurse sweeps into the room, slips around the divider curtain and stoops to check her chart. Under the woman’s nameplate, her smock has the words ‘Lenox Hill’ embroidered in maroon letters. Well, at least she knows where she is now.

“’Scuse me, what—?” Liz croaks, her throat excruciatingly dry. She eyes a cup of water on the night table, and the nurse leans over to hand it to her. She accepts the drink gratefully, and gulps it down.

The nurse, Melissa, smiles kindly. “Hi, Liz. How are you feeling?”

“Um, okay, thanks. I’m just really thirsty. Obviously. And my head hurts,” she babbles.

“I’ll get you some painkillers,” Melissa nods, and marks something on a clipboard.

“Thanks,” Liz says, and finishes the water. “So…I’m in a hospital. Why?” she frowns, embarrassed at her condition and even more so that she has no idea what circumstances brought it on.

“You don’t remember how you got here?”

“No.” She shakes her head, and winces when it brings on a sharp pain. “I’m sorta hazy, to be honest.”

“Well, you had quite the bump on the head. I’ll go get your pill, and meanwhile try to see if you remember anything about the accident,” Melissa says gently, and leaves the room.

Accident…accident. And suddenly, in a rush, it all comes back. Last night, or whenever, she’d been at one of Kenneth’s legendary insane parties, doing…what was it? Oh, yeah, Jell-O shots. And lots of them. It had been a terrible time—she and Criss had broken up two days beforehand, and Liz had of course turned to booze (some things never change). She remembers the pouring rain when she left, running for the taxi…she’d slipped!

Mother of Thor, she must have really hit her head.

With that great snippet of memory, the crushing feeling of despair overcomes her once more. She’d really thought that they’d make it, her and Criss. But he’d freaked out once they started looking over the adoption papers, and with a simple I’m sorry, but I can’t do this, he’d walked right out of her life. She’d been left in a puddle, with nothing to do but warily inspect the cupcake-shaped invitation that Kenneth had sent in the mail.

Well, she suspects that her parents haven’t been notified yet. But where is everyone, anyone else? Jenna, or Pete? Or Jack? When she thinks of how quickly she’d rushed to him in the hospital after the heart attack, she can’t help but frown even deeper. What the hell is his excuse?

The frustration is enough to make her eyes tear up, and at that moment Melissa returns with another cup of water.

“Oh, dear, is the pain that bad?” she sympathizes, and Liz wastes no time gulping down the meds.

“It doesn’t compare to the overall awfulness of my life right now,” she says darkly, thinking that her life has been total hell from start to finish. Not that she plans on dying right now. Judging from the crowds of people in her room right now (cue sarcasm), it’s unlikely that anyone would even show up to the funeral.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not so bad,” the nurse says reassuringly. “And it will get better!”

Liz grabs a tissue from the bed stand, and blows her nose attractively. The older woman winces at the impressive sound that emits from her rather slender patient, and looks a tiny bit taken aback.

“I just wish, that for once, something would fall into place. Why is the universe so against Liz Lemon trying to have it all?” She is nearly shouting, and the nurse places a comforting hand on one shoulder. Liz allows it for only a moment, because this woman has no idea of the relationship crap she has been through, or what she deals with at work on a daily basis. She’s still pissed that Jack hasn’t shown up, speaking of which. Liz leans out of the bed to look for her phone, which she assumes is around somewhere.

“Your handbag is in here, by the way,” the nurse says, noticing. She hands over a plastic bag before exiting, and Liz lifts out a roomy leather satchel that just smells expensive. Dammit, they must have switched the bags. She sighs and pushes the purse aside, and realizes that there is a phone loose in the plastic.

It’s an iPhone, but a newer model that she doesn’t recognize—not that she really keeps up with that stuff. She switches it on out of curiosity, and the background is a generic pattern. But a banner at the top reads ‘Liz Lemon’ in block letters and she cocks her head, puzzled. She’s pretty sure that this isn’t her phone, but the welcome message urges her to unlock the slide-y bar. After some quick tapping, she reaches the contact list and begins to scroll through. She recognizes some names and not others, including Jenna, the Thai take-out place down the block from her, and Frank’s mom. The emails in the inbox—while from companies and contacts that she’s never head of—are all addressed to her. Convinced that the device is hers at this point, despite the little warning bells going off in her mind at the weirdness, she returns to the Contacts app to give Jack a piece of her mind.

That’s odd. His name isn’t there.

She double-checks under Favorites, because he’s been on her speed dial for years, and still nothing. Did she accidentally delete it at the party? She has no idea why that would’ve happened. Liz doesn’t remember even talking to him in a week at least.

It’s bothersome that the number is missing, and beyond annoying that she can’t drudge up the digits from memory. Why had she never bothered to memorize it? Ugh, everything is just the worst.

She tosses the phone onto the bed with a sigh, and looks at the leather bag once more, wondering whom it belongs to. A small gold plate on it reads Hermés – Paris, which she’s heard of thanks to Jack, and figures that it belongs to some rich lady down the hall. Finally Liz drops the bag on the floor, flops on her back, and closes her eyes.




Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
md123
Jul. 20th, 2012 12:06 am (UTC)
New fic! Wheee!</p>

I always love how yours start out. All the little details about phones and handbags set it up nicely.

demilybones
Jul. 20th, 2012 12:38 am (UTC)
Thank you kindly! I have a vague idea of where this is going to go, so try to bear with me. Haha.
noie84
Jul. 20th, 2012 12:44 pm (UTC)
I like. I like verryyyy much. And I want to give Liz a hug (and maybe borrow her fancy handbag). :)
demilybones
Jul. 20th, 2012 01:28 pm (UTC)
SHHH! SHE DOESN'T KNOW IT'S HERS YET!

And yep, it's a Birikin tralalalalala
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )