Not beta'd. Additional notes at end.
I do not own Glee or profit from this in any way.
"Is it true?"
The wind is biting at my skin but I pay it no mind.
My voice is shrill as I repeat my question and strands of hair whip around my face, the tips brushing his chest. I feel myself shaking but refuse to remove my eyes from his face.
He is not looking back but instead fumbling with the sleeves of his jacket as he pulls it off and gently lays it on my shoulders. The cold is abated and I have to fight the instinct to burrow into the warmth.
His eyes fix onto a point above my shoulder and I want to shake him.
"Say something!"
His silence speaks louder than any of my screams possibly could.
A quiet moment passes before my breath hitches. A million thoughts swirl around my head but the only one that sticks out is the image of him. With her.
I want to cry. And scream. Hit him and tear him down.
I can feel my heart breaking, each crack as loud as thunder, widening the gap between the two halves. I will myself to not cry.
Am I strong enough to obey?
I cannot look at him anymore. I try to focus on something, anything else.
He grabs my arms with his hands and steadies me so we're looking into each other's eyes. I turn my head away. Try to look at something else. Anything else.
"Mercedes..p-please. Look at me." he finally stammers.
Knowing that I will crumble in his arms if I do, I close my eyes and repeat my question. My voice cracks.
His grip on my arms becomes weak and I hear him breathe in quickly. My heart breaks. I can feel each crack as it shatters. I know. In this moment…I know. Before I can muster up the courage to open my eyes and confirm it, he starts speaking.
"It was wrong, baby. I- I didn't mean for it to happen. I was drunk and she was drunk and we were both alone and it was so wrong and when it was over, we both knew it was a mistake. It meant nothing. It was a mistake. Ba-baby please look at me." he whispers.
I turn my back to him, eyes still closed. The warmth radiating from his body sends a shiver down my spine. I can hear him sniffle behind me. He told me he would never hurt me. He promised that we were forever.
I am surprisingly calm on the outside. So different than from what's going on inside. I am angry. I am seething. I am hurt.
I open my eyes and look out at the space around us. On unsure feet, I turn to face him once more. "Why didn't you tell me?"
His head was down and my question brings his eyes up to mine once more. They are bloodshot from crying. Instinct tells me to comfort him- but I can't. This isn't…this isn't how it was supposed to be.
"I don't know, baby." I flinch at the endearment and he notices. He continues though. "We…we agreed that we wouldn't tell. After it happened..we just agreed to never tell anyone."
That…that just twisted the knife. A quick inhale and my eyes dart over his shoulder. I don't think my heart can take anymore. He's speaking still but all I see is them. I close my eyes again. After Matt, he was there for me. He was the only one who was. He healed me and now he's breaking me all over again. He fucking promised. Every sweet whisper shared is now tainted. I can't contain my rage and my hand makes contact with his face before I even register what is happening.
I think back to the conversation I had with my best friend earlier.
Before he can react to the slap, I add "You know, baby, next time you end up fucking someone- make sure you use a damn condom. She's pregnant."
I feel, rather than see, his reaction. His body stiffens and his breathing stops.
"She's…she's what?" he stammers out. This would almost be funny if it wasn't so fucking heartbreaking.
"I said, she's pregnant. As in- you knocked her up." I laugh. It's dark and so unlike my usual laughter, it catches me off guard. "To think- you said we were forever. You gave me a damn promise ring. I fucking love you Sam! I gave you everything! Does that mean nothing? Did that mean so little that you would give it up for a drunk fuck? I've never thought you were dumb Sam, no, but now I see you're so fucking stupid. " My heart clenches at his reaction to my words. Yes, I'm cutting deep- but I want him to feel the pain I'm feeling. For him to feel even a fraction of what I'm feeling would be enough. For now.
He's openly crying now, and I have to hold back my tears. He will not see my tears. No. He does not deserve my damn tears. "This is it Sam. I'm done. Have a nice life and don't contact me. We're done." He is still crying and looking at the ground. He begins to speak, but I don't want to hear it. I put my finger to his lips and his crying slows down. When he stops, I grab his hand. He opens his palm and motions for me to put mine in his, but I can't. I slip my necklace off, the one he bought me for our two year anniversary, and put it in his outstretched hand. His eyes are frantic and he stutters out words but nothing is coherent.
"I- I just, fuck, Sam." The tears I've kept at bay flow freely now. He tries to cup my face with his other hand but I move. "I can't do this. Please just stay away from me." His face is so distraught and sad- I can't bear it. I turn away and begin to walk. After a few steps I begin to run. I don't know where I'm heading…and I don't stop.
This was written, like Part 2, in 2012. I've always said I would go back and rework this but never actually did it and for that, I'm sorry. This was also written in direct response to how the show treated Samcedes after season 3 and the collective "Bitch, what?!" the fandom said to season 4. Posting this now because it's been a year since the last thing and hoping it will serve as motivation to polish up Part 3. Much love, XX.