Disclaimer: I own nothing

Author's Note: Based off of the 2002 movie adaptation of Alexandre Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo."

- Lies -

Mercedes lay in her bed, tears slowly creeping out of her eyes and onto her pillow. All she could think about was Monte Cristo, so like her Edmond. His eyes, his face, his walk... no that wasn't true, Edmond had a sort of relaxed walk, while Monte Cristo was stiff, formal, and demanding. Her Edmond would never be like that.

She closed her eyes shut tight as if it would make the memory of it all go away. She had seen Monte Cristo twirl his hair with his finger, exactly like her own Edmond did. His voice had more of an edge to it than Edmond's but it was the still the same.

She recalled his harsh words towards her about her marriage to Fernand. Perhaps he truly was a ghost or sprit, sent to punish her for marrying Fernand. But I didn't marry Fernand for myself, Mercedes argued silently, I have just soon been homeless on the streets, but I would not subject my son to such harshness!

Mercedes tossed over on her other side, grateful that Fernand and many mistresses and did not require her to keep his bed warm. Monte Cristo was exactly like Edmond ... and yet he wasn't. Monte Cristo lacked the boyish charm that Mercedes has loved so much in Edmond.

She had gone to him, in the carriage, and thrown herself at him. She missed Edmond so much, she wanted to be with him so much that she hadn't cared, and the thought of another man being so identical to her own Edmond hadn't crossed her mind. Her Edmond was dead.

"You said it yourself, Edmond Dantes is dead," Monte Cristo's voice rang in her ears. Mercedes shot straight up in bed. Quickly she ran that evening's events through her head as best as she could. She hadn't said it! She had not mentioned Edmond's surname, she had never once mentioned the name Dantes.

Mercedes hurried to dress and then stopped, the sun would be coming up soon, she could not run to him now. She faltered. She could not go to Edmond in the middle of the day. She would have to wait until this evening. Mercedes let the robe slip from her hand and crawled back under her comforter. She would stay in bed all day, claim she was ill.

She rested her head on her pillow, the tears welling her eyes again. Edmond, her Edmond, was alive! Why? She thought, Why did he push me away? His harsh words towards her quick marriage to Fernand popped once more into her head. Perhaps it was because she had married Fernand. But Fernand was his best friend, at least in Edmond's point of view.

Sixteen years can change a person, Mercedes thought. Why hadn't he come to her right away? What had happened? Where had he been? The questions rolled over in her mind just as a wave of nausea over took her. She bent her head over the side of her bend and threw up into it. She wiped her mouth and lay back down. She was nervous.

Thankfully, Mercedes thought, I know for a fact I cannot be pregnant. She had shared a bed with any man in over ten years. She had moved out of Fernand's bedroom after Albert had been born and only a dozen times since had he come to her in the middle of the night, mostly in a drunken state. The last time he had visited her bed chambers was over a decade ago.

Mercedes closed her eyes in pain. The pain of her marriage, the truth about her son, and the truth about Edmond all swirled around in her mind. Tonight, tonight she would go to Edmond and find out why he had lied to her. Why he was still lying to her, where he had been ... the thought drifted off as Mercedes began to wonder if he would push her away again. He had done it once before would he do it again?

Mercedes gave a silent prayer that this time he would not lie to her, for she was absolutely certain this time that Monte Cristo was her Edmond. If he doesn't want me, Mercedes thought, I will leave him be, but I must have answers.

Oh Edmond, she thought, why didn't you come to me?

THE END