Disclaimer: I neither own nor want to own Glee or any of its related properties.
Mercedes watched the boys rehearse from the garage shadows. The car was old and rusted out, and they were all in their school clothes, but none of that mattered. In her mind's eye she could see the scene play out as it would on stage, all fresh paint, gleaming chrome, and gelled hair. She was impressed by the new kids—especially Puck's little brother—but her eyes were continually drawn to Sam. She smiled at his awkward dancing; it had been fun watching him attack this role with so much gusto and life, so much fun that she found herself beginning to relax for the first time since June.
"I think he's going to be OK."
Startled, Mercedes looked up to see Finn standing next to her. Of course he'd seen her in the shadows. She nodded. "Yes, I think so too." She bit back the sobs that were threatening to come as Finn put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
"How about you? Are you going to be OK?"
Mercedes gave Finn a weak smile as she relaxed into his embrace. She nodded and murmured, "Yes. Now that I see he's OK. I just—"
She was interrupted by the celebratory whoops and whistles at the end of the number. Finn gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before asking "dinner later?" She looked surprised by his request, so he added, "We can talk. If—if you want to. I mean, I know I'm not Kurt or anything, but—"
She cut him off with a laugh and shake of her head. "I'd love to have dinner with you tonight. Pick me up at 8." She patted his shoulder and pushed him toward the group, then watched their interaction for a few moments longer. Finn was really in his element; he was friendly with his former teammates, but he wasn't afraid to challenge them. She laughed as he gave them pointers on their pelvic thrusts, doubling over at the look of horror on Joe's face as Sam demonstrated his technique. She left as they started another run through—she'd promised Wade she's meet him for coffee—but not before watching Sam for a few moments more. She would always love him, but she knew he'd never be hers again.
###
"Do you want him to remember you?"
Mercedes stared at her half-eaten lasagna. "I don't know. At first, yeah, I did, but seeing him now, I just—" She paused, picking at her food with her fork. "This is better. For both of us."
Finn stilled her hand with his, his fingers stroking her smooth skin. "What happened? I mean, I know about the accident—my mom filled me in when I got home—but what happened to you guys?"
Mercedes sat back in the booth, her hand turning to hold on to Finn's. What did she want to tell him? That she and Sam had tearfully—but peacefully—said their goodbyes after graduation? That they'd promised to stay in touch, hoping they'd find each other again? Or should she tell him that she'd suspected—way, way down in the deeps of her heart—that Sam loved the chase more than the girl?
None of those things mattered, really, not after the accident. "Sam was working a construction job with his dad, and he fell and hurt his head. When he came to, he didn't remember a lot of things—well, mostly things about him and me—and he was different in a way. Less troubled. More innocent?" With her free hand she took a drink of water, the tangy bitter of the slice of lemon cutting through the tightness forming in her throat. "The doctors thought he'd remember over time, but I guess since I wasn't there…"
Finn squeezed her hand gently and nodded, his mouth tight and brow wrinkled as he tried to think of something to say.
"We'd already decided to let each other go. We were going to see each other one more time before I left for LA—the really goodbye goodbye—but we'd already broken our hearts." She shrugged, slipping her hand from Finn's to take the napkin from her lap and place it on the table. "It's better this way." She placed her hands on the table as she started to slide from the booth. She needed to get to the ladies' room before the tears came. "We both need to move on with our lives."
Finn watched, helpless, as she made her way to the restrooms. His hand was still on the table where he'd held hers. It felt empty and cool, and he stared at it, wondering if this was how Mercedes' heart felt now that Sam no longer knew who she was or what they'd been to each other, if this was how it felt to hold onto a memory that no one else shared.
"Can I get you anything? Drink refill? Dessert menu?"
Finn quickly moved his hand from the table and shook his head. When the waitress was gone, he turned his head back to his supper, wondering whether or not he should finish his manicotti, if Mercedes would want to leave now. Maybe he shouldn't have sent the waitress away, maybe he should get her to come back so that she could pack up their food. That would be the right thing to do in this situation. His eyes searched the restaurant till he found their waitress, who looked cheerfully annoyed at his request that she return to the booth. He smiled apologetically. "Can we get a couple of those to go boxes?" After she left, he thought that maybe he should have ordered dessert to go, too. Mercedes liked dessert. He plucked the dessert menu card from between the salt and pepper shakers and began to debate the merits of chocolate lava cake over tiramisu.
"Really? You haven't even finished your dinner, and you're planning dessert?"
Mercedes grinned at him as she returned to her seat. Her eyes were shining, but the smile was genuine. He watched as she returned the napkin to her lap and took a bite of her lasagna. Following her lead, he returned the dessert menu to its home and started back in on his own food.
"So, what looks good for dessert?"
Just then, the waitress returned with two white styrofoam trays. Mercedes looked at Finn, confused. "Do we need to leave?"
Finn shook his head quickly, then smiled apologetically at the waitress. "I'm sorry. Looks like we're staying." His smile faded as the waitress rolled her eyes and took away the containers. "We don't have to leave. I just thought that you might want to go, you know, since you're upset."
Mercedes nodded, her eyes trained on her plate for a moment before she looked at him. "Thanks, but I'm OK. Really. I've had some time to get used to everything. Coming back here was the final test." She took a bite of her food, then a sip of her water. "Britt and Wade have been helping—making sure—and he doesn't remember me—well, us me—and he's happy. I'll be happy, too."
She went back to her meal, and Finn could tell that the subject was closed. "OK." He ate a few bites as he turned over their conversation in his mind. He thought about Rachel, about how she'd remembered him, wondered about him, and how she'd decided to move on in his absence. Was that what he'd wanted, why he'd dropped off the face of her earth? The thought of it pricked at his skin.
"I think I'll have the tiramisu. Finn?"
He looked up to see the waitress smiling a glare at him as he fumbled to sort out what was going on. They were ordering dessert. Mercedes was having the tiramisu. He grinned at the way her eyes lit up when he ordered the chocolate lava cake. When the waitress left, he gave Mercedes a conspiratorial wink. "Wanna share?" She laughed and nodded, and he quickly finished his meal so as to be ready for the treat about to come.
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Mike had left for Chicago that morning, but Mercedes had stayed in town to sing with her church choir and have lunch with her parents. Finn insisted on giving her a ride, borrowing Burt's SUV to bring her to the airport. Mercedes thought that was a sweet gesture, but she found that she was a bit disappointed not to be climbing into the cab of Finn's pickup truck. She liked the way he teased her height before holding her hips to help her climb in. Her pulse quickened and cheeks flamed a bit as she remembered him doing that very thing after their dinner at Breadsticks. She shook her head to clear the memory, then joined in conversation with Finn about the success of the show and how nice it had been to see Rachel and Kurt there. She knew that things were broken between him and Rachel, but his face didn't show it. There was a brief flash of sadness at the mention of her name and then ease and smiles and the sweetly simple Finn that she'd always care about. They'd spent a good deal of time together working on the show, and her initial impressions of how well suited he was to the coaching life were cemented as she watched him fumble his way through working with the students. He wasn't a director—that was Artie's job—but Finn encouraged and cajoled and was just so good-natured that people wanted to do a good job, do their best job.
He insisted on parking in the lot and helping her get her bags into the terminal. She didn't stop him, grateful for the help and not yet ready to say goodbye. As they walked, they talked about nothing: the weather, the length of her flight, her classes at UCLA. He stayed with her as she checked her bags and then headed over to the TSA check-in.
"So," Mercedes said slowly, her eyes darting between the metal detectors and Finn. "I guess this is where we say goodbye."
"You're coming home for Thanksgiving, right?" Finn's skin was prickling again.
Mercedes sighed. "Maybe. This trip was kinda unexpected, and between the studio time I've missed and my bank account, I just don't know yet. If not Thanksgiving, I'll definitely be home for Christmas." As she spoke, she felt a growing disappointment in her answer—in its inadequacy. In Finn's face she saw her disappointment's reflection. She'd have to think about that on the plane. "If not Thanksgiving, Christmas, OK? You've got Sectionals and the holiday concert to keep you busy, right?"
Finn smiled sadly and nodded, then surprised her by pulling her close and hugging her tightly. "Tell Puck to stop harassing you. He's going to scare away your new friends."
She laughed and leaned into him, hugging him tightly. "You know it won't do any good, but I'll give it a try. And you-" She pulled away from him to poke a finger at his chest while looking into his eyes. "Think about enrolling in some classes at the community college, OK? Maybe you can make some new friends, too."
Finn gave her one last hug before taking a step back as he let her go. "No goodbyes. I'll see when I see you." She nodded and joined the line of travelers, quickly removing her shoes for the mandatory check. He watched until he could no longer see her, then headed home. On the drive, he thought about what had passed between them, that cold, empty feeling returning and growing from the moment he'd let her out of his arms. He wondered if she felt it too.