Two weeks ago, Mary Macdonald woke up in the hospital with no memory.
The doctor told her that she had been in a car crash on the way home from a party. They said that alcohol had been found in her system, but none was found in the driver’s system. However, with the combination of alcohol and a head injury, she has been diagnosed with long-term memory loss. They said it was very likely not long lasting, but after two weeks, she is beginning to lose hope.
“Ready for another?”
Mary looks up to see Lily, her redheaded manager. Lily was the first person she met after the incident. Met is probably the wrong word in this scenario, but she was the first person that Mary talked to besides the nurses and a doctor. The girl had run into the room the moment the nurse cleared her to, only to have disappointment spread across her face at the news of Mary’s condition. She had then introduced herself as Lily, Mary’s manager of five years – which promptly led to Mary being introduced to herself.
“Interview or music video?” Mary asks. This has been their routine. She and Lily have been spending these last few days watching old videos of herself, in attempts at her to begin recalling that past life. The life of legendary singer, songwriter Mary Macdonald.
“Music video,” Lily replies, sitting beside her on the couch, and starting to turn on the television.
A music video begins to play soon enough. It’s a song titled, Dive. Mary has already heard it a few times – it’s apparently her most famous song. It is a fun song. Mary likes it. Mary could see herself listening to it. But the idea that Mary iswas the person who wrote it? She finds that very hard to believe.
Mary watches the video, attempting to imagine being the girl in the video. She imagines looking through her eyes, feeling the soft blouse on her arms, the itch of her curls on her shoulders – trying her hardest to remember what it was like to experience all of it. It doesn’t work. She still feels like she’s watching someone else entirely.
Mary sighs, reaching over to pause it. Lily frowns and looks over at her before asking a simple, “No?”
Mary shakes her head before yawning. “I’m going to go to sleep.”
Lily stays on the couch, watching Mary stand up. She’s been getting more and more disappointed with each failed attempt to regain Mary’s memory. She is Mary’s manager after all, her entire career depends on Mary getting back to singing. Mary understands why she would be upset.
“Sleep well. We can watch more tomorrow.” Lily says, smiling at Mary, but there’s a tint of concern in it. They both know that Mary should have gained her memory back by now.
Mary nods, before walking away. She doesn’t want to, though. She doesn’t want to spend another day sitting on a couch, watching video after video of the life of someone she used to be. She knows she will anyway.
When she wakes the following morning, she expects to be alone. Lily usually gets there around nine, allowing Mary to sleep in. However, she already hears the pitter patter of footsteps coming from the kitchen.
Mary slips on jeans and a black band tee. She briefly wonders if this is an outfit that her old self would approve of. Has she worn this before? It’s fairly plain, but maybe that’s her style.
“You’re up.” Lily greets when Mary walks in.
“Good morning,” Mary bluntly replies, going right for the coffee pot which Lily has already filled.
“Don’t have too much of that, we’re about to go to a coffee shop.”
Mary perks up at this. They haven’t been going out in public very often. Lily said it’s because the media thinks that Mary is still in the hospital, without any memory issues. It’s better that way – at least Lily thinks so. She wants to ask why there’s a sudden switch up this morning, but decides against it in worry that Lily will change her mind.
It’s not far. They walk. Mary gets a couple of odd looks, but pretends not to notice. The coffee shop is small, and surprisingly empty for a warm Saturday morning in London.
“I had them clear it out.” Lily states, having noticed the confusion on Mary’s face.
“You can go sit, I’ll get the refreshments.” Lily says as she begins her journey to the counter. Mary chooses not to question the fact that Lily didn’t ask for her order.
Mary looks around at the seats. There’s a spot right by the window, a spot by a fireplace, and a table farther towards the back. Without even thinking, she makes her way to the fireplace.
Lily meets her there shortly, with two drinks in hand. She hands Mary a matcha tea latte, claiming it was the exact order she used to get. “We always sat here. This exact spot.” Lily mentions.
“We came here a lot?” Mary asks. She takes a sip of her drink, which tastes incredible. The flavor immediately makes her feel at home and the consistency is just perfect, and the bit of foam on top is just sweet enough. There’s something else about the taste. That feeling of familiarity that she has been searching for the past few days.
“Every morning.” Lily comments, sticking her straw in her own drink.
“We must be close, yeah? For... co-workers. Or do we usually just talk about music or whatnot?” Mary asks, not missing the way Lily’s eye twitches at the word, co-workers.
“We’re close,” is all Lily says, but she smiles for a second and... oh. Mary definitely remembers that smile. It’s like when someone smells a scent from their childhood – when they begin to sniff the air, trying to capture another breeze of that familiar, comfortable smell. That’s how it felt when catching a glimpse of Lily’s smile. She has a small dimple on the left side of her face, her cheeks move up towards her eyes in the most perfect way, and her freckles on her nose move towards each other for a second due to the movement of her face.
“That’s why I feel so comfortable with you. You must be my best friend.”
Lily tils her head at this, motioning for Mary to continue.
“When I talked to Marlene or that Sirius guy, they made me feel happy, but you make me feel so... warm.”
“Warm?” And there was that smile again. And just for a moment, Mary feels like herself again, but that disappears with Lily’s smile.
“Yeah, I just...” Mary trails off, not sure how to put the feeling into words, which Lily seems to accept, not asking anything further. “Thank you for this.” Mary says suddenly.
Lily looks up from her drink, “Buying you coffee? I technically used your card – well my card for when I’m getting you things, so it technically comes out of your-”
Mary cuts Lily off, “No, just... taking me here. I feel like this is what I need to do to remember. Experience the things I used to do. Not just watch them.”
The little spark of hope in Lily’s eye begins to brighten for a moment, “You think so? For a moment, I thought you were giving up on that.”
Mary shrugs, “I was, until we came here,” she takes a large sip of her drink, not even caring to savor it, “Maybe I should try going to whatever recording studio I use? Or can we go somewhere else where we used to spend time together? Do I have a favorite bar?” Mary began rattling off questions, hoping to experience that feeling of nostalgia again.
“Of course, we can do anything you’d like.” Lily just sounds pleased at the idea that Mary wants to keep trying.
And so, they do all the things that Mary wants to do. They spend the day going across the city, stopping at any special parks, landmarks, even a restaurant or two. Mary finally feels like she’s beginning to gain a relationship with herself again.
After the long day, they settle back down on the couch at Mary’s home. They’re both tired from the long day, but it was so worth it.
“I think the more I do this, the closer I’ll be to remembering.”
“Going to old places?” Lily asks.
“Experiencing my old life.”
“It’s still your life, Mary. A car crash doesn’t change who you are.”
Mary hums in response, not completely believing Lily. But that’s okay.
They sit in silence for a minute or so before Mary speaks up, “In the songs of mine that you’ve played for me, I keep singing about someone. Who is it?”
Lily’s breath hitches, “Well you’ve dated numerous people-”
“Who’s Dive about?” Mary asks, cutting Lily off. That’s the song she feels the most connection to. That’s the song that she hears herself in the most.
Lily sits there in silence for a couple seconds. Mary begins to wonder if she didn’t hear her, but then she replies, “You never told me.”
Mary frowns at that. Why didn’t she tell Lily? Lily feels safe. Lily feels comfortable. Lily makes her feel open. It doesn’t make sense why she wouldn’t tell her best friend. “Shame. I bet that would help. Experiencing things with that person again.”
Lily goes silent. Mary furrows her eyebrows, confused at the sudden silence, so she turns over in curiosity, only to see that Lily is looking right at her. Light, emerald green eyes piercing her own honey coated ones.
And then Lily’s leaning in, and before Mary can question anything, she gets that feeling again. The one about smelling an old childhood scent, except Mary knows exactly where the scent is coming from and how to grasp it, so she leans forwards as well.
Their lips collide into a soft, yet intimate kiss. And it’s all so, so familiar. It feels so right, like this is what Mary is meant to. Like she was put on this earth simply with the purpose of kissing Lily Evans for eternity.
The memories don’t come rushing back like Mary thought they would. They simply are just... there. They weren’t, and now they are. No dramatic flashbacks or anything. It’s more like she opened a door that she didn’t even realize was there before.
She remembers coffee dates, picnics, braiding hair. She remembers the cheering of crowds and the sound of her name being echoed to her. She remembers flashing lights as she laughs with her friends on a dance floor. She remembers the girl that would sit on her couch, watching Mary strum her guitar and sing newly written lyrics. She remembers Lily. And more importantly, Mary remembers herself.
By the time Mary pulls away from the kiss, she feels as though her brain is about to combust with all the things she’s suddenly cognizant of. “Fuck. I love you, Lils.”
It seems to register in Lily’s mind what that means, because suddenly her lips are back. It’s more aggressive this time, more power behind it.
Mary knows every little thing about Lily now. She remembers the exact rhythm of kissing her, the spot on her jaw that makes her tilt her head back all the way, the pitch of noises she’s about to let out as Mary begins to kiss said spot. Just as Lily gets comfortable with the sensation, Mary pushes her shoulders back, causing Lily to gently fall back onto the couch.
When Lily runs her hands through Mary’s hair, she recognizes the feeling. With each breath and gasp that leaves her mouth, Mary recalls having heard that same song before. Looking into Lily’s eyes, Mary sees miles of green grass that she has laid in before, with the warmth of the sun blanketing her skin. With each fervent touch and feeling, Mary knows she has felt it before. And oh, what a privilege it is to remember what it’s like to be loved by Lily Evans.
What happens after stays in Mary’s memories. And her memories stay in her mind for eternity. At least in this universe, they do.