It's finally finished, an incredibly lazy three or so years in the making. Thanks to everyone who begged me to update, you're the best.

It had been three hours. I glanced at the clock again, somehow expecting time to move faster, or slower, or something. But the minutes kept ticking away, 60 seconds exactly. Three hours seemed about right. Then again, time had felt strangely normal since I woke up.

"You sure I can't get you anything?" Perry asked hesitantly. It was almost funny, watching him awkwardly trying to find some middle ground.

I glanced over at him, reveling in the now-familiar sense of affection, and shook my head. "I'm fine," I said with a shrug. "This already happened, remember?"

Perry's expression couldn't have been more skeptical, but he let it drop. The truth was, I did feel relatively fine. Especially since Perry had forced Dan into a fairly nice motel with his own credit card. He could only take so much of my brother, a fact for which I was grateful.

I looked down in my lap, suddenly feeling uneasy. Before I remembered anything, all I wanted was to get him alone, but I almost felt worse than before. Only being able to remember bits and pieces - something, but never quite enough - was torture. They say silver medalists aren't as happy as you'd think, because of the frustration of being just that close to perfection. I was too tired to get carried away with the metaphor.

"Turk," I finally said, still looking down. "I have to - to call him or something."

I could see Perry nod out of the corner of my eye. "Right, sure," he responded, doing an impressive job of hiding his concern.

I pulled out my phone and quickly scrolled to Turk's contact. My fingers drummed on my knee in anticipation - needlessly, since it went straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes as I sat through his enthusiastic message.

"Hey, Turk. I, uh, remembered some stuff. Which is good. Obviously. Not everything, but, you know, some. I just wanted to tell you. You're probably in surgery, so… call me back."

I stared dejectedly at my phone as I hung up. Perry continued to watch me.

"JD," he said, almost begging as he moved closer to me. "Give me something."

I leaned in to kiss him softly, and he sighed against my lips. "JD," he repeated, more quietly. "What am I supposed to do here?"

I pulled away slightly, watching Perry's face. "I don't know," I admitted. "There's one thing…"

"What?" Perry asked, a little too eagerly.

"I was listening," I confessed. "To you and Dan. In the kitchen. And there was more to the dream than I said."

Perry blinked, trying to process. "How much did you hear?" he asked after a moment.

"Not a lot," I said slowly. "I heard… 'soon'. That part."

"And the dream?" he continued, watching me carefully.

I paused, biting my lip. "It was weird," I started. "I was getting married - I had the same dream three times. There was this chair next to me, with no one in it, and the chair kept telling me… it didn't want me."

Perry brought a hand to my face, and I closed my eyes under his impossibly light touch. "It's that important to you?" he murmured.

"Only if it's important to you," I said, a little desperate. "The chair was mad at me. It doesn't take a genius to see the symbolism. My dreams have always used dramatic devices!"

"Sweetheart," Perry chuckled, "I'm not a piece of furniture."

"The furniture represents you," I grumbled. "Did you take any English classes in high sch-"

The words left my mouth as Perry dragged me in again, kissing me more deeply than he had since… well, I couldn't really remember, could I? I let out a gasp just before he pulled his lips from mine.

"I want you," he said firmly. "You can be damn sure that if I'm at a wedding, especially my own, it's because I want to be there."

"Perry…" I said softly, "if you're going to say something, please say it."

He rolled his eyes as he stood, pulling me to my feet as well. I watched him confusedly as he brought me to the bedroom, but I began to understand when he started digging in the sock drawer.

"Thought I'd be prepared," he said with the smallest hint of a blush on his face as he produced a ring box. My jaw dropped when he opened it; maybe I was biased, but it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I'd ever seen.

"You have to ask," I insisted, my eyes flickering between the ring and his face. "You can't just give me something shiny - oh, wow, the light makes nice reflections, though…"

Perry chuckled and got to one knee with only a little difficulty. "John Dorian, will you marry me?"

It was simple, not something I would have planned, but I didn't care in the least. I nodded quickly, and my arms were around him the very moment he finished sliding the ring on my finger. A perfect fit, of course - I didn't know how he could have possibly guessed my size.

He started kissing me again, running his hands through my hair. I quickly started to lose myself in what was becoming increasingly familiar. He was pushing me ever-so-gently towards the bed - our bed - but it was with an insistence I'd missed. I heard Turk's ringtone faintly from the living room, but I didn't even flinch. Everything else could wait.