Cross-posting this from my Ao3 account with full-knowledge it will barely be read. For the scant number of souls who do wander across it, I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1: amnesia ain't so bad

Andy Dwyer will be the first to admit he doesn't know very much. Maybe that's just because he hangs out around some pretty smart people. Ben, though he is completely Andy's bro, will often go on about accounting stuff with weird slang like "leaseback," and "financing" that makes Andy's head hurt. Leslie, who manages to be all over the office all the time, even when she's away (via iPad), babbles with incredible speed, which Andy will catch maybe a fifth of. Tom is just as bad as Leslie. Donna and Jerry (or was it Larry?) he can understand better.

April (his angel without wings) will occasionally speak about things he doesn't understand, but never holds it against him when he doesn't get it. Because he understands enough to know she really loves him. Which is good because he totally loves her too. He sort of hopes any kids he has at least have his heart, even if they don't get his head.

Sometimes he believes that maybe it isn't because of his poor attention span or general lack of aptitude that he doesn't get stuff, because he'll remember the head injury he got four years ago. He forgot everything when he ran into that tractor near his grandfather's house. Those moments after impact are his first real memories. Because when he sat up he honestly had no clue what he was doing there. Or who he was for that matter. The only familiar thing was the farm, which he vaguely recalled being "Grandpa's." The old man was kneeling, running worried, amazed eyes over him, and Andy wanted to laugh and tell him he was made of tougher stuff, but at the moment he didn't remember who Andy was, so he let it be. Grandpa Quill, who thinks faster than Andy does, brought him to the emergency room. There they discovered that whatever damage he received to his head wasn't going to be easily reversible.

It's never bothered him that he's forgotten twenty or so years of his life. Grandpa Quill is nice enough to tell him his name is Andy Dwyer. He's from Missouri and he likes music. His parents are both dead, which probably sucks, but seeing as he doesn't remember growing up without them, it can't bother him too much.

He does think maybe he forgot some education because some things are so incredibly hard for him to do. Like math. God, math sucks. Leslie put some algebraic equation in front of his face once and he asked her if it was modern art. Everyone in earshot laughed, and he did too (because why not?). The stuff on the paper made zero sense to him. Andy tries to avoid math whenever he can, literature too. Who cares if he doesn't know who Huckleberry Sawyer and Tom Finn are? It doesn't matter, and it certainly isn't so funny that Tom has to tweet it. Sometimes he wonders if he read the book in the past, if he once knew who those literary creatures were. He doesn't wonder very often.

Lost knowledge or no, the "Traumatic Brain Injury" (not his words) led him to meet Ann, who was his attending nurse at the hospital. Everything awesome that happened after, getting a job, starting a band— meeting April— happened 'cause he ran into that tractor. He's grateful at times to remember nothing. It sure makes living in the present a ton easier. He goes after what he wants and does as he pleases. Ann says it's because his front lobos— some part of his brain has decreased capabilities. So he's worse at making decisions.

Andy would like to politely disagree. Because asking April to marry him is one of the best choices he's ever made. He loves her. He loves living with her, and will love being her husband. They're still just engaged, but there's a lot he looks forward to, dreams about. He can't wait.

So Andy is totally fine only remembering four years of his life (with faint slivers of memories from his past, mostly stuff with his grandpa). In fact, he forgets that he has amnesia most of the time, until he's forced to think about it again.

He's mostly reminded of his amnesia at times when he can't explain why he does what he does. Once, Ron was drunk and he offered to buy Andy and April a Walkman. Andy doesn't have the words he needs to explain how badly he wanted to take his boss up on the offer. Even though he has no cassettes to listen to. Then there was the time he asked April to marry him, and he said he was the luckiest guy in the galaxy. Those words meant more than he could ever make her understand.

There are also some songs that when he hears them, he shuts down. He totally spaces out, and his mind goes far away from earth.

The first time it happens he's shopping in the store, and the Jackson 5 come on. The next thing he knows he's in a hospital because he was nearly catatonic for three hours. His Grandpa is still his emergency contact at the time, and he wakes up to old, tired (fearful?) eyes, which he's happy to soothe.

It isn't the last time it's happened. He's blanked out in bathrooms, malls, and even on the airport escalator once.

Andy has no idea why he spaces out. It takes a handful more times losing touch with reality for an answer to be reached, and he isn't even the one to figure it out. Ann and April do.

The first time it happens with April is when they're at the office and Tom is showing them his new ringtone Come and Get Your Love by Redbone. Andy knows it's happening but can't do anything to stop it, so he just slowly rides the ethereal currents towards the stratosphere, past the moon, and then, finally, back to his body.

Andy startles awake, and the first thing he sees is April crouching over him. He's lying on the couch, which is a nice surprise. He's used to waking with bumps on his head. Someone must've caught him.

Her brown eyes are unusually worried so he smiles and raises a hand to cup her small face.

"Babe, I went to outer space."

"I'm going to kill Tom," April growls, promises, before rising off the couch. "He put pot in those brownies you love again!" she snaps, shooting towards fast footfalls disappearing in the opposite direction.

He doesn't bother to correct her, because he knows she's relieved. When it happens a second time, it's when they're actually waiting in line at the doctor's office to get examined with their brand new free-health card.

Ain't No Mountain High Enough starts playing over the crappy hospital speakers, and he drifts into the stars again. He wakes in a hospital bed with an irritated April on the phone.

"He's awake," she says, before immediately ending the call.

"Hi Babe," he says, slowly sitting up. Andy is disoriented, but alright. "What's up? Did you bring me some brownies?"

"Ann's on her way," April says. "And I got caught smuggling some in. Blind people shouldn't be allowed to have dogs if they're going to rat me out."

Andy's understandably upset about the brownies, but something else about her answer doesn't quite make sense. "Why? Did she go back to being a nurse again?"

"No, she was fired for being a slut, remember?" April lets out a frustrated huff. "She's coming 'cause she thinks she knows what's going on, but she wants to check."

"Oh. Okay," Andy says, because what else could he say?

Ann arrives fifteen minutes later, coming into the room a little disheveled with her purse in one hand and a medium sized bag in the other. He blinks and waves in greeting.

"Hi, Andy." She walks to the side of his bed and he sees her eyes darting to the various machines beside him. He doesn't get them, but she probably does.

"What took you?" April asks.

"There was a line at the Best Buy."

"Why were you at Best Buy?" April asks the question before Andy can. Words are still coming a little slower to his mind.

"I don't get wifi here so my laptop was out, and my phone's speakers suck."

April glares a little, one of the many cute expressions she has. His happy thoughts end and curious ones take its place as Ann takes out a small speaker and hooks her phone into it.

"Alright Andy, remain calm, deep breathes," Ann urges.

He frowns and does as she says and then Ain't No Mountain High Enough fills the air and he's blown back to a strange planet with gold stars on everything.

When he does return to his body, he sees April, worried again and angry, and Ann resigned. He wonders what stupid thing Ann's done to make April so angry. Andy then notices the glare is focused solely on him, and he shifts back awkwardly. He wonders what stupid thing he's done to make April so angry. Ann looks between him and April before standing and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Hi babe," he greets again, smiling, trying to take the edge off of her eyes. April shakes her head and grabs his hand, tightly, painfully.

"Why did you never tell me you have amnesia?" she grits out.

Andy blinks. "I didn't think it mattered."

"Of course it matters." April's voice is that muted, angry, awkward tone she uses when she's confused and upset. Andy feels terrible. "What if you were some kind of mass murderer, or like a Mormon with eleven children and five wives?!"

"I'm not," he assures her quickly. "Grandpa was there when it happened. He made sure I got myself straight. I'm not a criminal." He smiles.

She still isn't happy.

Andy rubs his thumb over her knuckles. "It's okay."

"Andy, what happens if you remember your past and you don't, like, want to do this with me anymore? What if you don't like me?"

"Impossible," he says, grabbing her hand tight. "Loving you is in my DNA, Babe. I can't stop. It's like a disease."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. Ann taps the door and peeks in. Seeing it's all clear, she reenters and takes the only available chair across from April, perpendicular to Andy.

"I bought a little notebook from the convenience store next door." She holds up a black composition book Andy completely overlooked, before she fishes a pen from her purse.

"Alright, Andy, I think what's causing you to space out is certain songs."

"Really?" That's both cool and bizarre.

"Yes. I honestly don't know why, but I thought you might want to make a list or something so we know what to avoid," Ann says.

"But I like those songs," slips past his lips before he can stop it. He's on the receiving end of two very unamused looks. He means it though, and not just because of the drug-free trips to outer-space.

"I already put Ain't No Mountain High Enough in there. Are there other songs you know of?" Ann asks in a businesslike manner, breezing past his words.

April looks curious now. "How many times has this happened to you?"

"Uhm, eight times. I think."

April glares and Ann shakes her head.

"And you never mentioned it before this?" April says.

"I didn't think it mattered." He winces as he realizes he's already said those words once today.

"Babe, the next time something happens to you, even if you don't think it matters, tell me anyways," April demands.

"Okay." He lets out a gusty sigh.

"So, what are the other songs?" Ann asks, pen at the ready.

"Oh, the one Tom played," April says.

"Come and Get Your Love," Andy fills in. "It's by Redbone."

Ann's watching him carefully as she writes it down.

"So that's two. What are the other six?"

"Let's see," Andy says, casting his mind back. He doesn't want to tell them for some reason. Something in him warns him not to let those songs go, but the look in April's eyes takes the warning in his mind down, and he quickly fills them in. "Cherry Bomb, I'm Not in Love, I Want You Back, uhm, Spirit in the Sky, Hooked on a Feeling, and Go All the Way."

Ann dutifully writes down all of the songs.

"I've never even heard of most of these songs," April says.

"That's because they're old, like from the '70s," Ann explains.

"That is old. Babe, you weren't even alive then!"

Andy sighs. "I dunno why those are the ones." He hesitates, because there are some songs that he knows without ever listening to them. The lyrics sometimes whisper through his mind in the early hours of the night, but he doesn't remember ever hearing it aloud before. One title rises to his lips without much searching.

"Write down O-o-h Child."

"I like that song," Ann says with a smile.

"I though you said this only happened eight times," April asks, glaring.

Andy shrugs. He doesn't know why, but the inexplicably precious nature of the song lets him know it would take him to a new galaxy if he let it.

The blanking out incidents continue happening at random, and he does better at finding his way back to his body from someplace really far away. April helps a lot, because he knows she's there, waiting for him to come back down.

"What's it like?" April asks. They're sitting in bed and April's writing That Piña-Colada song from the movies into his composition notebook. They've only used two pages, and a lot of it is doodles.

"Andy," she says. "What's it like where you go?"

It's the first time she's ever asked. His mind blanks until a few jagged, half-formed visuals appear.

"There's a tree," he answers after a time. "Raccoons. Stars. A giant skull floating in the middle of a nebula."

She smirks and laughs. "You're messing with me. And since when do you know what a nebula is?"

"Four years ago," he answers honestly, and she rolls her eyes.

April is as nice as Ann when it comes to his amnesia. Maybe even nicer. Because April does this awesome thing she does where she buries the matter and never mentions it again. Ann would occasionally make queries, double check that he was okay. April is entirely happy to forget it. Andy is too. Whoever he was before, he probably didn't have a kickass fiancé like Andy has.

At least he hopes he didn't.

That would make things awkward between him and April.

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I'm amazed if someone is reading this. Truly, I am.

Should be a fic less than 30,000 words. 2 other chapters are written, I just intend to space it out a little.

Reviews are dearly appreciated!