Author's Note: Just a little ditty I threw together during a sudden burst of inspiration after literally reading the words "take care". My first attempt at writing a Mercedes, Samcedes, and/or flully piece. Enjoyyyyyyy. (:
It wasn't long after her breakdown in the ladies' restroom that she broke up with Shane.
She was grateful that the burly football player had entered into her life when he did. It had been almost two weeks since her "summer fling", as she dubbed him, had unexpectedly left Lima, Ohio for big opportunities in Kentucky. She had tried to be supportive when he sprung the news on her. It wasn't that she wasn't incredibly happy that his father had found a job after watching the Evans family struggle and try to make ends meet from month to month. And the toll it had taken on Sam was evident, from the fact he traded in his American Eagle flannels and shirts for $2 tee shirts from the Good Will and the extreme guilt that was easily read on his face every time he spent a few dollars on lunch.
The day he left was hard, but the weeks that followed were unbearably painful. After two weeks of barely sleeping from being kept up by her tears and having no desire or motivation to participate in her summer plans that she had been looking forward to since before school ended because "there was no point in doing them without Sam", her mother came into her room telling her that she had found something for her; a little volunteer work at her church's day camp that would hopefully take her mind off the blonde boy.
And that's how she met Shane.
He was volunteering at the camp, as well, and one day while they were finger painting with the children, he complimented her on her painting and said that he didn't know that it was possible for someone to be as bad at finger painting as he was. Mercedes chuckled at his humor and couldn't help but the deny the fact that this boy could be exactly what she needed to move on from Sam. After a month of dating and an official relationship status on Facebook, Mercedes couldn't help but feel as though Shane had restored her ability to smile and also showed her that life goes on. With or without Sam.
And besides, boys always seem much more attractive and appealing when playing with little kids. Always.
She liked his plans for the future, too. Well, she liked that he had plans for the future in general. Especially plans that were on the same level as some of her own aspirations. Mercedes enjoyed the stability that Shane provided, as it was something that a boy who didn't even know where his next meal would be coming from or if he would have a roof over his head come morning could provide.
It wasn't long after she broke up with Shane that Sam officially asked her to be his girlfriend. "And none of this secret relationship nonsense this time around either," he said. He claimed that he had spent too much of his senior year hiding his feelings for her and repressing his desire to kiss her square on the lips right in the hallway that this time he wasn't going to keep anything to himself.
It wasn't long after that they had their first official date as a couple. More importantly, a date that didn't involve them being cooped up in a motel. And it wasn't long after they were about to conclude their first date that Mercedes noticed that her parents weren't home and snuck Sam up to her room, where they kissed and touched freely, as though they were making up for lost time.
It wasn't long after that, however, that Mercedes came down with a cold, without a doubt a result from her kissing Sam perhaps a bit too much the previous night. She assumed it was the universe punishing her for having a boy in her room while her parents weren't home. It was by far the most unglamorous cold she had ever experienced; so unglamorous that even her fiercest outfit of a faux fur vest and tight black skinny jeans couldn't obscure it.
Mercedes had tried to focus in glee club, as Mr. Shuester rambled on endlessly about what they needed to do to perfect their numbers for regionals. But what Mercedes needed right now was not sharper jazz hands or cheesy show-choir grins. No, what she needed right now was some Nyquil and a piping hot cup of chamomile tea. She needed to take off her painfully high ankle booties, which for some reason she thought were a good idea to wear today despite her cold, and go home curl up in her bed and rest.
She left school and changed into a pair of thick sweatpants and a cozy knitted sweater. She curled up under several blankets with the intention of only sleeping a couple hours. She would wake up from her nap feeling 100% herself again and would be ready to tackle whatever was in store for tomorrow. But when she woke up she had realized that she slept much longer than she originally planned. In fact, when she finally woke up it was already 11:45 the next day. Mercedes would have normally panicked and hurriedly thrown on some clothes and got her ass at her desk for the remainder of her classes, but her cold had left her feeling so drained she didn't have the energy to even care. Her plan to sleep for a little bit and miraculously feel better also didn't pan out, because she somehow was now sicker than the day before.
Mercedes rolled over onto her side to check her cellphone on her bedside table and was greeted with two text messages, one from her mother saying that she could tell that her daughter was sick and had excused her from school, and another from Sam asking where she was.
"Hey babe, how you feeling? I don't think much better since you're not at school... :/"
She smiled at the considerate gesture of her boyfriend, because had she been dating Shane, the future-oriented person that he was, he probably would have hounded her for missing a day of school. She mustered up some energy to respond to her caring boyfriend by saying that he would be correct in assuming that she was feeling worse, before rolling back over and closing her eyes.
Mercedes awoke a few hours later when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Well, if I didn't know better, I would assume you were just trying to skip school because you look too pretty to be sick," Sam teased, as he walked into her room.
Sleepily rubbing her eyes, Mercedes smiled at the blonde haired boy. "If I wasn't so sick, I would totally hate for you to see me looking like this," She said, laughing softly and trying to smooth out her bedhead.
"Well, then I think you are one crazy lady, Miss Jones, because you look gorgeous, as usual," He drawled, as he made his way to sit on the edge of her bed, strategically placing himself so he wouldn't sit on the mounds of tissues she had all over her comforter. That's when Mercedes noticed a large paper grocery bag settled between her boyfriend's feet.
"What's that?"
Mercedes was now up sitting up a little higher, her interest piqued by whatever was being concealed in the brown bag. Placing a hand on hers, Sam began to explain, "You aren't feeling well, obviously. So, Dr. Evans is here to take care of you," He smirked and she swooned, per usual. "Are you hungry?"
The first item that emerged from the bag was a thermos that was filled with soup that Sam had made himself; an original creation he titled "Cheesy Soup". "I used to make this all the time for Stevie and Stacie whenever they got sick and my parents weren't around, and I have yet to get any complaints, so hopefully you like it too," He said with a proud smile, as he guided a spoonful into her mouth.
It was then that Mercedes discovered that "Cheesy Soup" did in fact live up to its name, as it consisted of Ramen noodles, salt, and what she assumed to be an entire block of Velveeta cheese. It tasted like a dirty sock and Type II Diabetes. She did not have the heart to tell Sam that he should stick to his medical career, as his culinary pursuits were lackluster, so she choked down spoonful after spoonful of Sam's soup with a smile. Mercedes figured it was the thought that count, and his was clearly beyond caring and thoughtful.
Once she had finally swallowed the last bite of soup- truly awful, absolutely disgusting soup- Sam put away his thermos (A Star Wars thermos, Mercedes would note and inwardly giggle at.) and pulled out a variety of Mercedes' favorite DVDs from his bag; all of which were "chick flicks" that Sam patiently sat through much to his chagrin. She always appreciated that about him, especially how he was always there to wipe away her tears during the particularly emotional parts of P.S. I Love You.
("I just don't get why he couldn't have left her something like really, really cool. Like, a time machine! Have you ever seen Back to the Future?" He would often say at the conclusion of the movie. She'd shake her head and laugh before pressing her lips into his softly.)
Somewhere in between 27 Dresses and Dirty Dancing, Mercedes had begun to doze off again, perhaps as result of how nice the warmth from Sam's toned body felt against her skin as they snuggled under her blankets. Ever the perfect and dutiful boyfriend, Sam remained watching the movies with a blank stare that rivaled the ones he gave in his math class. "I'm sorry I fell asleep," She said stroking her hand up and down his forearms. "You didn't have to keep watching the movies. I know how much you hate them,"
"I don't hate them," He offered up in an attempt to be a good sport. "They just aren't my favorite, necessarily,"
"Uh-huh, sure," Mercedes said sarcastically, while nodding her head. She couldn't even begin to recall how many times she watched Friday Night Lights or Remember the Titans with Shane…
"I figured when you woke up, you'd still want to watch them, and I hoped that maybe if I watched these more I would eventually develop some sort of appreciation for them," And then there was that perfect smile again.
God, could he be anymore flawless?
"So, next up we have—" Sam began, before Mercedes let out a big, loud cough that sounded almost painful. "You okay, sweetie?"
"Yeah, my chest has just felt really tight the past couple of hours," She emphasized what she had just said by rubbing her palm against her chest.
"Well, Dr. Evans has just the cure for that," Sam said playfully, as he whipped out a small jar of vapo-rub from his bag. "My mom used to rub this on my chest when I was a little kid and it always just made it feel a little easier to breathe when I had a cold. Here, take off your sweater," He instructed, as Mercedes cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm not going to try anything, I promise," He swore, as he rolled his eyes and extended his pinky out towards hers. She wrapped her pinky around his, but when she took off her sweater to reveal that she was only wearing a flimsy camisole without a bra, Sam was not sure he was going to be able to remain true to his word.
"Dr. Evans" began rubbing the medicated cream in small circles on her décolletage and Mercedes let out a contented sigh and let her long eyelashes flutter close over her baby browns. Oh, crap, Sam thought, as he attempted to focus on the task at hand. She is sick, Trouty Mouth. She has entrusted you with the job to make her feel better, so keep your horny little paws to yourself, he mentally scolded himself. But even that did not stop his hands from wandering past the top of her shirt into more dangerous territory. "Sam," Mercedes said strongly, with her eyes still shut.
"I'm not doing anything!" He replied quickly and swiftly moved his hands back to a safer area of her chest.
"Mhmm, sure you weren't," She added with a knowing smile.
Sam finished rubbing the vapo-rub over her chest, an activity he prolonged for as long as he could, and he went to her bathroom to wash the cream off his hands. When he came back into Mercedes' room, Sam noticed that Mercedes was now sitting up all the way and was looking almost entirely better. (Although, he would continue to swear that she was still the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen, even with a cold.) "How you feeling, 'Cede?" He greeted with a big, toothy grin.
"Much better," With a smile that matched his in size. "Thank you, Dr. Evans,"
"Anything for my favorite patient,"
"You really didn't have to come over like this,"
"I'm always here to take care of you, baby," Sam said, as he sat at the foot of her bed and leaned in for a kiss.
"Wait, I don't want you to get sick," She said quickly, as she shielded her mouth with her hand.
Clearly not deterred by her warning, Sam's smile broadened and he continued to ease his mouth closer to hers. "I'm willing to take that risk,"
It wasn't long after that Mercedes was making her way to the Hummel-Hudson residence, a brown bag of her own in tow, to heal a very sick Sam Evans.
Fin.
Reviews would be so very lovely.