Quinn was finally coming home. It was probably a little premature, but by the start of the third week, he had already signed himself out and called Pete to pick him up before Crissy could stop him.

"Shouldn't he be taking it easy?" Pete said as he opened the door to his Suburban.

"I tried telling him that," Crissy said.

"I'm right here," Quinn protested. "I can hear you talking about me."

His movements were agonizingly slow and the muscle in his jaw was constantly clenched tight, but he never said a word about the pain. She knew he had to be feeling it, judging by the way his hand was clamped around hers with a vise-like grip. He kept his bandaged arm tucked in against his side as he eased himself into the backseat of Pete's car. By the time Crissy slid in after him, she could feel slight tremors in his hands from the effort movement was costing him.

"Are you...?" she started to ask but Quinn cast a warning look at her.

"It hasn't been five minutes since the last time you asked, sweetheart," he said. "I was fine then. I'm still fine now."

"Remember what I told you? I have to nag you constantly until I drive you insane."

"Crissy, sweetheart, I don't think you even know how to nag."

"I must be doing something right because that was a distinct test of your patience I just saw flash across your face."

He laughed and shook his head. "God, nothing gets by you."

"Nope. Now, are you okay?"

"Yes," he said with a begrudging sigh. "I'm okay. And I'll let you know if that changes any time in the future."

"No you won't. You'll tough it out in silence like you're doing now."

Pete stifled a snicker as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"You sure you're ready to get married to that razor sharp little cupcake there, Q?" he said.

Crissy turned to Quinn, eyebrows raised with a teasing look. A flicker of confusion darted across his eyes and Crissy's stomach flipped. He was searching, spinning through his memories right there in front of her.

He didn't remember, Crissy realized with a jolt. He didn't remember proposing to her. She had been braced for the warning signs of memory loss for days, even weeks now, so how had she missed this?

Pete glanced at Quinn in the rear view mirror.

"Getting cold feet, buddy?" he said.

Quinn blinked, once, twice, before he shook himself and the confusion was tamped down.

"No," he said. "Not even a little."

Crissy took in a tiny breath of air at that. He might not remember but he still cared about her. That was the important part.

Quinn turned his head to the side, away from Crissy's searching gaze for a few minutes and she knew the confusion was still there, lingering. She pulled his hand into her lap, curling her other hand over his forearm and rested her head on his shoulder. He relaxed slightly but she could feel a sliver of tension too, like the edge of a knife, silently sliding through his muscles, shredding him to pieces.

Crissy tried to put him at ease for the rest of the drive home, skirting around the issue as long as they were in Pete's presence. He wouldn't want to discuss it with an audience. And she knew he was probably beating himself up over forgetting, even though it wasn't his fault.

"When do you think you'll be back to work?" Pete asked.

"Not for a good long while I hope," Crissy put in.

Quinn finally glanced down at her with a small smile. "I've still got time off and I fully intend to enjoy every minute of it. I'm not even thinking about coming back yet."

Pete huffed. "Of course not. Leave me to suffer, why don't you?"

"I'm sure you can handle everything just fine, Pete," Quinn said.

"Yeah, but I can't slough work onto you and it's throwing off my rhythm."

The car hit a bump in the road and Quinn sucked in a hissing breath through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes, his lips pressed in a tight line.

"Sorry about that, Q," Pete said softly.

"Just...go a little easy, all right?" Quinn said, his voice strained and rough.

Crissy bit her lip against the automatic question that popped to the tip of her tongue. She wouldn't ask if he was okay. It was obvious he wasn't anyway.

"You should have stayed in the hospital a few more days," she said instead, her voice pitched low and gentle. She didn't want it to sound like an argument or an accusation, didn't want him to feel she was criticizing him for his decision to leave.

For the first time since he had managed to hobble out of the hospital, he peeled his fingers away from hers and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I need to be home, sweetheart," he whispered back. "I need to be home in bed with you after a hot meal that isn't hospital food."

"Fine. But I will bribe the entire fire department to carry you back to the hospital if necessary."

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a second. You've got the whole department in your pocket as soon as you say 'food.'"

***

By the time Pete finally parked outside of Quinn's house, Quinn's chin was drooping towards his chest as he leaned against Crissy heavily, his body limp and soft with exhaustion. She squeezed his hand with a kiss to his cheek.

"Quinn," she whispered. "We're home."

He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes for a moment. It took both Crissy and Pete to support Quinn during the short walk into the house. Pete eased Quinn into bed as Crissy tucked a pillow beneath his head. His face tightened a fraction of an inch from the strain of moving but as soon as he sank back against the pillow, his eyes fluttered closed.

Pete barely touched Crissy's elbow. "Keep me updated on him, would you?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"He'll probably sleep for a day or two but after that, I'll come by and pester him. If you don't mind, that is."

"I don't mind at all. His energy might not be low for a while but I don't expect him to be down for too long. If he was bored at the hospital, he won't be able to sit around here with nothing to do either."

"Still awake you know," Quinn mumbled, his voice gravel-rough with oncoming sleep. "I can hear you."

"Then get some shut eye already, Q," Pete said. He squeezed Crissy's shoulder before he headed out.

Crissy waited until she heard the door close, heard the rumble of his car fade before she tiptoed to the side of Quinn's bed and tugged off his shoes. He hooked two fingers into the belt loop of her jeans, drawing her steadily closer.

"I told you nothing strenuous," she said, prying his fingers away and pulling the blankets up around him, careful to avoid his bandages the best she could.

He frowned and propped himself up on one elbow gingerly. He caught her hand, his thumb trailing over the ring on her finger. Crissy hitched one knee up on the edge of the bed and brushed her fingers over his hair.

"It's okay, Quinn," she said before he could say anything.

"Like hell it is. I proposed to you and I can't remember. That's not supposed to happen until we're old and gray and can't stand each other because we've been married for a hundred years."

"Only a hundred years?" she said lightly.

His gaze switched up to hers and he released her hand, curling his fingers around her hip. She took his hand away, shaking her head.

"The answer is still no," she said. "How much do you remember anyway? I've been meaning to ask you that ever since you woke up but...it's been a little crazy."

He sighed, staring at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts. "The last thing I remember was...somewhere...your sister's wedding I think. I keep getting flashes of bringing you home but it's like watching a dream. And then everything after that is just...heat. Too much of it."

She nodded. "You proposed to me about a week after Andrea's wedding."

"Where?"

"At the bakery you and Amy had built for me."

His gaze darted back and forth over her face, trying so hard to pull the memories to the surface, before he finally rubbed at his forehead.

"Why can't I remember?" he growled with frustration. "I've been planning on proposing to you for weeks and when I finally do it, I forget it."

"Maybe it'll come to you later."

"Maybe," he said grudgingly.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"About what?"

"Asking me."

"No," he said, confused. "Why?"

"Because the important part is that I said yes. I can remember for the both of us."

A faint smile of relief tipped the corner of his mouth up and he brushed his thumb over her chin.

"Would you tell me about it?" he said softly. "Remind me?"

Crissy kicked off her shoes and slid into bed next to him, curling up on her side facing him, her fingers tracing his features, more out of habit now and the desire to touch him rather than the need to memorize him.

She told him every detail she remembered, slowly, with a smile in her voice, biting her lip when laughter bubbled up and made her words jump with excitement. Quinn watched her as she spoke, his hand wrapped around hers, his thumb settled in her palm, until his eyes drifted closed and sleep slid over him, soft as silk. Crissy stayed that way, inching a little closer, her forehead resting against his.

"I love you," she whispered.

A small part of her almost expected him to wake up with a jolt of surprise when she said it but his eyes remained closed. And that same small part of her sighed with a pinprick of disappointment too. She should have told him a long time ago, well before now.

In the morning, she decided. In the morning, she would tell him as soon as he woke up. Because he had to know. She had some so close to losing him and she still hadn't said it.

But she would. No more waiting.

***

When Crissy woke the next morning, Quinn was already up, the sheets long since grown cold next to her. He wasn't in the bathroom or the spare bedroom. But as she headed to check the kitchen, voices pitched low caught her attention. She recognized Quinn's voice immediately but the other voice...the other voice made her stop, made her hand tremble as it came to rest against the doorjamb.

"All I'm saying," Shannon said, "is that we had something good going. Why can't you acknowledge that?"

"Because I moved on a long time ago."

"So let's start over. Let's go back to the beginning."

"Like hell that's going to happen, Shannon."

A pause, a pause so deafeningly loud that Crissy was sure her thunderous heart beat would give her away. She knew she should announce herself or leave. Just something, anything, but remain standing here, eavesdropping.

"I made a mistake," Shannon said.

"I could have told you that one," Quinn said drily.

"If you'd given me a chance to explain..."

"Explain what?" There was a red hot edge to Quinn's voice now. It made Crissy flinch and she was in the other room, the intensity of his tone muffled by the closed door. She couldn't imagine how scorching it would feel to be in the same room with him. "I caught you in our apartment with some guy and you didn't even know his name just so you could screw me over. I left everything for you."

"Don't throw that back at me. That was your choice."

"Because I thought it would make you happy. That's all I ever wanted for you. But every time you looked at me, it was like you only saw a small town, love sick boy who wasn't worth your time or attention."

"You wanted to get married so fast and I didn't think –"

"Wait," Quinn cut in. "I never told you that."

"Yes you did."

"No. I didn't. How did you know that?"

Shannon hesitated then huffed. "I found the ring you bought."

Quinn said nothing but the silence was dangerous, wound too tight, ready to explode. Shannon continued in a rush.

"You never hid things very well, Quinn. I just...stumbled across it when I was looking for a clean shirt in your closet."

"So..." Quinn stopped, cleared his throat and tried again. "You knew and you still cheated on me."

"God, you make me sound like such a despicable, cruel, selfish person when you say it like that. I panicked, is what happened, Quinn. I wasn't ready to get married. I had plans."

"You could have told me that. I would have understood."

"I was going to. But I went out with a few of my girl friends and before I knew it, I met this guy who was funny and made me laugh and one thing led to another...It was a mistake."

"Yes it was."

Shannon sighed. "Look, Quinn. We were both young, too young, but we've changed now." Her voice softened followed by a footstep and Crissy closed her eyes at the scene playing out in her head, of Shannon sidling closer to Quinn and trailing her fingers down his arm the way she had in the hospital.

"You're right," he said, every word out of his mouth cold and sharp as steel. "We've both changed and we're not going back. Now I'd like you to leave. Please."

"So you've made up your mind then," Shannon whispered.

"Yes. I have."

"It sounds like...like she makes you happy," Shannon ventured, so quietly Crissy almost didn't hear it.

"She's perfect. And I don't deserve her. I never will, as long as I live."

Another pause, longer this time, heavy but not suffocating, weighty with the realization that something was ending, friendship, memories, locked away to fade into the years, and there was no going back anymore, no attempts to mend, no second chances.

"Take care of yourself, Quinn," Shannon said and the door closed with a soft click.

Crissy stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do. She heard him pacing in the kitchen, agitated, before the front door opened and closed again. For a horrifying moment, she thought he might be going after Shannon but then she brushed it aside. She'd heard the resolve in his voice. He meant every word of what he said.

Slowly, she crept into the kitchen. She almost expected the kitchen to look like a disaster zone after the argument that had exploded only a minute or two before, but there was nothing out of place, nothing disturbed or unruffled. She stood in the middle of the room and felt like she didn't dare breathe in case it was too loud, too much of an assault after the trauma from before.

Then Crissy started to move, drawn to the refrigerator, pulling out milk and sugar and eggs, motivated into action by old habits and the ingrained instinct to draw from the soothing solidarity of food. She was only partly paying attention to what she was doing. Most of her attention was redirected to the door over and over again as she willed Quinn to walk in and kiss her, tell her everything was fine...

An hour later, Quinn returned and by then, Crissy already had flan fully formed before her, cooling in puddles of honey brown caramel sauce with chocolate shavings sprinkled over the top. As soon as the door opened, Crissy knew just with one look at Quinn's face that everything was not fine. Everything was far from fine. He kept his gaze trained on the ground as he kicked off his shoes and nudged them out of the way by the door. He was half way to the bedroom when he stopped, startled to see her standing there.

"Hey," she said softly. "I didn't hear you get up this morning."

Quinn opened his mouth to answer then clamped it shut again. "How much did you hear?"

She let out a breath, long and slow, and carefully set aside the caramel sauce.

"Not all of it," she said. "But I heard enough."

He turned away with a short, sharp curse under his breath. Crissy didn't move even though every muscle in her body ached to reach out and ease his seething frustration. His shoulders sat in such a rigid line and the way he bowed his head told her he needed distance, he needed space.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Quinn finally said, his voice ragged and low. "I had no idea. Or maybe I did, I don't know anymore. I should have known that's what she wanted."

"Quinn..." Crissy said quietly. "It's okay, I believe you."

He raised his head but he still didn't turn around. "After everything that's happened, you didn't deserve to hear that."

Crissy hesitated for a moment then edged closer and hooked her little finger around his. He didn't pull away, even shifted to lean into her the slightest bit. She managed a faint smile and rested her chin against his shoulder.

"After everything you've been through," she said, "you didn't deserve to hear it either."

He sighed and closed his eyes. His hand came up and settled against her cheek, the broad expanse of his palm warm and feather-light.

"I feel like my life has just...completely turned upside down and inside out, Crissy," he said, the slightest tremor shivering in his words.

She stepped closer until she was nearly flush against him, her thigh tucked between us. "Hey, it's all right. We've still got each other. It'll be fine."

He laughed softly but there was little humor in it. "I don't know what's going to happen after this and I'm probably going to be dumping a shit ton more on your shoulders that you don't deserve."

Crissy turned to kiss his palm. "I'm a big girl, Quinn. I can handle it."

He opened his eyes and pulled back to look at her. Crissy's breath hitched in her throat as an icy finger of dread trailed down her spine. There was something there in his eyes that she couldn't put her finger on, something that made her stomach squirm into a thousand knots.

"I didn't sleep much last night," Quinn said. Every word was slow and careful and deliberate, measured and weighed before he placed it in the miniscule space between them. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and then Shannon's visit on top of everything else..."

He trailed off, uncertain. Crissy curled her fingers over his hand at her cheek.

"I'm right here," she said. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't think I can do this anymore," he whispered.

Crissy went still. He couldn't mean...no. He couldn't possibly mean that and she pushed the thought away immediately, willed herself to stay calm, stay focused.

"What are you saying?" she said.

"I can't face another fire like that."

Finally, Crissy sucked in a shaky breath and released it again.

"You don't want to work at the fire department anymore?" she said softly, a slight tremble in her voice, both of guilt and relief at the same time. Relief that he wasn't saying what she briefly, horrifically thought he was saying, and then guilt for feeling relief when he was obviously so torn over his admission.

"It's the only thing that never changed in my life," Quinn said. "It was always a constant. When things were bad with Dad, I knew there would always be a fire to fight, to get out that pent up aggression over him. When Megan cried herself to sleep at night and I knew I couldn't comfort her because there was no way in hell she'd allow it, I took it out on myself, training harder, pushing harder. That's how I've always coped with things, Crissy, and I don't know how to anything else."

"You don't have to make that decision right now, Quinn," she said. "There are still weeks of recovery left to go. Maybe you'll change your mind."

"I know but...when that fire came down the ravine like a wild thing, when I felt it..." He stopped and shook his head. "All I could think was that I didn't want to die and leave you and Megan and Mom and the kids. I promised myself I wouldn't leave again and it almost happened anyway."