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improbable-outset · 9 months

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𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧-𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬:

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 ★ || 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 ✎ || 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Hospital setting, memory loss, angst, emotional Miguel, married couple, wife!reader.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After waking up from a year-long coma, you find yourself in the hospital with the tender embrace of your husband sitting beside you. You have no memory of your marriage nor the life you shared together. As you try to navigate the scattered memories, Miguel becomes your guiding light through your journey of transcending memories.

𝐀/𝐍: It’s been a hot minute since I posted my writing on here. I’ve been working on my other series that’s AO3 exclusive so making this post in this layout brings back old memories. Anyways this is a two chapter story so enjoy getting your heart ripped from your chest :)) twice :D

You couldn’t remember how you got here nor could you remember how it even happened. For the longest time you’ve been surrounded by darkness and floating into nothingness. You felt disconnected from your surroundings and your physical realm though for some reason you would always hear a voice, echoing in the background occasionally.

“Por favor. Por favor, mi amor”

The voice would always sound distressed, almost begging for your attention that you couldn’t give. It served as a reminder that you were still alive but not fully present. You wanted desperately to reach out for that voice and see where it was coming from but you felt trapped, suspended in midair like an astronaut in space with no control over your body and no anchor to pull you down. You lost track on how long you have been like this but today, you felt a sensation on your fingertips. You started twitching your fingers, a sign that you finally had the ability to move your muscles on command.

Your senses were coming back now and you could feel the darkness fading away from your vision. You slowly fluttered your eyes open but they burnt momentarily against the sudden bright light that illuminated the new room. You started to take in your surroundings and the first thing you noticed was the tang of disinfectant and antiseptic that was woven in the cool, controlled air. You shifted your gaze from the bright ceiling to your side and was met with a man beside your hospital bed you were laying on. You couldn’t see his form but his skin was tanned with big arms and his hair was dark and pushed back. The most prominent feature was his sharp jaws and his red eyes that stared at you. You locked eyes with him and you could see his face light up when he saw your own eyes finally open.

“Mi amor? You’re awake!” Your heart clenched when you heard him speak. It was the same desperate voice you heard in your comatosed state, the voice that was pleading for you to wake up and now you could see who the voice belonged to.

“Awake?” You could only echoed back in confusion.

“Yes, sweetheart. You’ve been in a coma for a year. You’ve had a terrible accident but… Ay dios mío, you’re awake now and I can finally talk to you and hear your sweet voice.” He stood up from his seat and hovered over you as he spoke with a relief smile spread across his face. You could now see his physique in this position. He had broad shoulders and a muscular frame. He hesitantly held your fingers and rubbed the knuckles with his thumb. His fingers felt calloused yet his strokes and touches were gentle, almost like you were thin glass and would shatter at any sudden movement.

You tried to rack your brain and remember who he was. His name, it was on the tip of your tongue. You could feel it just about within your reach. “M-Miguel…” That was all your mind could remember.

“Yes. It’s me, Miguel. I’m here mi amor.” He said ecstatically, still maintaining a connection with you but you couldn’t reciprocate no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel the same amount of happiness as Miguel, not when you couldn’t remember who he was. You must’ve been so deep in your thoughts trying to remember with a blank expression that Miguel's face dropped, the sparkle in his eyes now diminished. “Mi amor, what’s wrong? Do you not remember who I am?” He asked with concern laced in his voice. He still held onto your fingers as he spoke, afraid to let you go.

“I’m sorry…. I remember your name but…. I can’t identify who you are.” You could almost hear his heart crack after he heard you say that, but he still held onto your fingers, almost as if his touch will somehow reignite your memories.

“I’m your husband…we’ve been married for three years! Do you not remember that? Do you not remember us?” He croaked. The weight of the situation was crashing down on him like a violent storm, too fast to comprehend.

“I’m sorry… should I?” Your chest tightened. You just woke up from a coma and you were already causing so much pain.

“Yes you should. We’ve shared a life together. We’ve made so many memories. Mi vida please… I don’t want you to forget me.” He sank back into the seat beside the bed, his hands now shaking and his grip loosened.

“I wish I could understand what you’re talking about Miguel but my mind is blank.” Your gaze at him softened and all you could do was witness your husband’s torment as he tried to grasp onto straws.

“It’s like I’m losing you all over again…. You’re here but you’re not you.” He squeezed his eyes, tears threatening to fall.

“I wish I could comfort you right now. I want to believe you and I want to be that person you need but…I’m just so lost right now.” You found yourself caressing his fingers now in a feeble attempt to comfort his anguish.

“Then let me guide you in this darkness…Do you trust me, mi vida?” He held his gaze on you again, his eyes full of faith - faith to rebuild your relationship again which made you nod in agreement to his promise. You were lost in a sea of confusion and you didn’t have anyone else to trust right now and Miguel was the only one patient enough to help you. He was your anchor. “Do you remember my surname mi amor?” You thought hard about that. The answer was there but it wasn’t easily reachable as his first name.

“Uh-O…” you fumbled through your memories making Miguel gaze softly at your attempt to answer.

“It’s O’Hara. Miguel O’Hara. You know, you’d always used to call me Miggy and it would always brighten my day whenever I heard you say it.” He smiled at you again and you started to grow a fondness for it.

“O’Hara? So does that make me Mrs O’Hara?”

“Yes. We’re Mr and Mrs O’Hara.”

“Do we have children?” You started to panic a little. The thought of your children having a mother that didn’t remember any of them made your heart sink. You already caused pain on your husband from your memory loss - you didn’t want to pass it on to your children too.

“No, we don’t but we always did talk about it.” You thought how building a family with Miguel would be like, the man whose love for you was so strong, he waited a year for you to wake up from your coma and still withheld his patience to rebuild what you've lost. Even if you couldn’t remember anything about your husband, you could already tell he was an incredible man and would make an amazing father. “Is there anything I can do for you now, hermosa?” Your heart swelled at his concern over you. He wanted to make sure you were content and comfortable.

“I’d like some water please.”

“Sure. There’s a water fountain out in the halls so I won’t be long. I’ll be back okay?” As soon as he got up from his seat and left for the hallway, you took this opportunity to take in your surroundings again.The air felt still as if the room seemed to hold its breath after Miguel left. The sound of the cardiac monitor that was resting beside your bed was beeping rhythmically with tubes and wires that snaked around the digital monitor. You could hear distant footsteps and murmurs from outside your room along with a few nurses walking past. The blinds were closed but you could see through the gaps that outside was dark - it must’ve been late. The disinfectant scent that was lingering in the air had faded now. You noticed your hair was pretty long, reaching your waist and your nails grew significantly. You’ll definitely need to trim both. Before long, Miguel came back with a plastic cup.

“Here.” He handed you the cup with cold water. You glimpsed at his big arms that were in close proximity now and felt your cheeks warm a little before you took the cup from him.

“Thank you.” You quickly dismissed your thoughts and took small sips from the cup. It took a little effort for you to swallow. Your throat was dry from the lack of fluids and the sensation was a little overwhelming at first since your body was now readjusting to the water intake after ages. The water was starting to relieve the parched feeling in your throat and your mouth felt more refreshed and cold.

“How does it feel?” Miguel asked you, he could see you were struggling to intake your first few sip of the water.

“Good… just taking some time getting used to the feeling of the fluid in my throat.”

“I can imagine. Just take your time, okay?” He said reassuringly. You looked back at him again and your eyes fixated on his big arms that crossed over his chest as he watched you. Your face heated again but this time, Miguel noticed and gave you an amused look.

“Something caught your eye, hermosa?” There was a teasing glint in his expression, startling you from your deep thoughts.

“Oh no, n-nothing I was just…” you stammered, trying to come up with an answer without embarrassing yourself.

“Just what, mi amor?” He cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He knew where this was going and your flushed face only added to his amusement.

“Your arms… they’re really well-defined.” You murmured with the cup near your face, trying to hide your cheek.

“Oh you noticed hmm?” He shifted closer to you which didn’t help with your flustered state.

“Uh yeah… kinda hard not to, you know.” You took another sip of water before you spoke again, carefully choosing your next words without making yourself look like you weren’t just gawking at him. “So, do you work out? Is it for your job or just to keep in shape?”

“A little bit of both” he replied, his teasing tone changed to something more affectionate and genuine. “My job can be physically demanding but I also work out to find peace of mind and to find solace.”

“Physically demanding? What is your job exactly?” You could see the hesitation in his expression, almost like he was debating if he should tell you or not and there was something else from the look of his eyes that you couldn’t quite place - like he’s holding back something from you.

“It’s a little complicated… it’s not something I can easily explain. We’ll discuss it later, for now let’s focus on your recovery.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to pry. I let my curiosity get the best of me.”

“It’s natural to be curious especially in your situation when you’re trying to piece things together. Speaking of recovery though…” Miguel got up from his seat as he continued to speak, “I should probably call a nurse now so they can see if everything else is okay with you.” Moments later a nurse came into your room. She checked your records and made a note on everything. Throughout the examination you were feeling a little unnerved and your heart was racing with anticipation with a new person in the room but Miguel’s presence gave you the reassurance you needed. The first thing the nurse did was check your heart rate with her stethoscope, moving it across your chest. The cold metal on your skin made you shiver. However, you particularly didn’t like the blood pressure monitor squeezing your arm, but you endured it, waiting for it to be over while focusing on Miguel steady breathing beside you. Miguel gave your fingers a gentle squeeze, a silent sign of his presence. You let out a sigh of relief when the cuff released its grip and gave out your blood pressure readings.

The nurse followed up by asking you a series of questions about your medical history and what you remembered during the accident. There was evidence that you were struggling to answer her questions, not giving her solid replies. Miguel decided it was time to explain the current situation.

“Nurse,” the nurse turned her attention to Miguel. “My wife has experienced significant trauma. She doesn’t remember anything before the accident.” Miguel explained. You smiled in relief knowing that Miguel was still by your side and the weight of your unspoken fear has been acknowledged.

“I see,” she replied, her expression was unreadable but she still carried the gentle spirit. You didn’t like not knowing where this was going to go next. “Memory loss is common after such events. I’ll be sure to put that on her records. Other than that, her pulse is stable, her blood pressure is okay and her oxygen level is in normal range.” The nurse told Miguel.

“Do you know how long she’ll have to stay before she can be discharged?” Miguel asked, concern evident in his tone, you could tell he was desperate to take you home.

The nurse expression softens in understanding. “We’ll still need to run more tests to monitor her condition and evaluate her neurological status so I believe she’ll have to stay for a day or two.” The nurse's words carried weight that seemed to hang in the air. You watched the conversation exchange between your husband and the nurse and came to terms with the fact that this was your new life now, your new reality. Miguel’s eyes fixated on you again, reflecting hope and loss. Just as the nurse was about to leave, you finally spoke up, your voice quivering in uncertainty.

“Do you know why I might’ve lost my memory?” The nurse stopped in her tracks and looked back at you, her gaze seemed to soften.

“I’m sorry Mrs O’Hara. It’s hard to say now but my guess is it might be some sort of head trauma. It is a complex case and we’ll still need to run some more tests.” You sighed in disappointment at her response even though you didn’t expect her to give you a straight answer. This was going to take more effort to come to a conclusion.

“Thank you,” you said. The nurse gave a brief nod before she left, leaving you and Miguel alone again. Miguel turned back to you and sat back on the chair beside you. He reached for your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll get through this mi vida, we’ll find the answers no matter how long it’ll take.” You leaned your forehead on his, tears spilled out of your eyes which Miguel wiped with his thumbs. A still silence settled around you but it wasn’t the suffocating kind. It was filled with hope and promises with whatever the journey would lay ahead.