Didn't expect to produce this chapter so soon. I'm supposed to be working but just kept on writing. Oh well.

Once again thank you for continuing to read and follow this story and being patient with my story telling as it unfolds.

As with all chapters Glee and it's characters are not mine.

Chapter 7: Perception

Mercedes Jones was not losing her mind. Sure, the accident a few weeks ago had left her feeling like between her and the world was a barrier, where from her perspective the light was dimmer and sounds more muffled. But Mercedes was not crazy. At least she didn't think she was, until a tall man with golden hair that fell above his jade eyes, started visiting her.

She could not see him, only his reflection, though she heard his voice.

His voice was so clear, like a beacon calling out to her, as it diffused through the invisible curtain that had muted all the other colours and tastes and noises around her, his voice, his presence brought her heart to life. She could almost believe that it was her mind that had conjured into being this companion to stay with her, in her cocoon to both comfort and torment her.

Perhaps it was the strangeness of him even appearing to her in this way that made her think she was hallucinating. But for Mercedes the situation was more perverse than simply hearing and seeing someone who should not be there.

However, she could not deny the significance of who she was seeing. She believed at first that it was her mind that had chosen to project this ironic template, fashioned from the fresh wounds of a painful, barely processed memory and her inescapable sense of guilt.

Then there was the more alarming possibility that he really was present, not in her mind but somehow really there. The idea could either confirm her sanity or her denial, but if there was the possibility of it being true- it troubled her even more.

Then one day she played the piano for the first time since the accident. He came again singing with her, breathing life into her cells as she struggled to sing over his harmonies, as he once again forced his gentle presence alongside her. She realised as he gazed searchingly at her and through her, that his eyes were seeking the same answers, she heard in his tentative words a need to know, a desire for the same peace of mind she craved.

Perhaps all he was, was just a projection of her own state, that stared back at her in the mirror?

Yet she felt responsible to trust that little spark inside of her that warned her against dismissing him altogether as a mere illusion.

Yet it frightened her too. His presence was forcing her to face what happened, to face what she wanted to bury.

Mercedes never really believed or disbelieved in ghosts, but she believed that within every human being was a spirit, an eternal life force that continued on. Maybe it was not so far a stretch to think that sometimes these spirits can get lost? Perhaps it was because she needed to forgive herself, or she needed him to forgive her, that she was more willing to believe.

So cautiously she allowed herself to entertain the idea that he was real, beyond her mind. And cautiously, she wondered if he was real if was he angry at her, if he blamed her for what happened. She thought at first that that was why he had come to her. He seemed after all to know who she was.

Yet the more he interacted the more she realised that he sought her because she seemed to have the answers he needed. She had some answers for sure, but would he want to know? And was she supposed to be the one to tell him.

When he didn't come back for a week. She wondered if he maybe he had found his peace. She hoped he had forgiven her.

Then he visited her in her room that night. Sam Evans. He still didn't understand why he was where he was. He said it was a dream.

Perhaps that was how it felt to him?

As she sat in the cold room, recently vacated by him, staring at the starry sky, she decided that if he ever came back, she needed to tell him somehow to make him see. Perhaps he would remember, maybe he would get angry at her when he realised, maybe he would forgive her. But most of all she hoped it could somehow free them both.

XXX

Sam found himself in a bedroom that was definitely not his. A queen sized bed occupied the centre of the room, with lilac and cream bed covers, there was a familiar looking large blue and white blanket folded at the foot of the bed. A mirrored closet stood against the wall in one end of the room adjacent to a dressing table. There were two doors on opposite ends of the room. At the window, was a desk with a black notebook on it.

He was dreaming. He knew he must be. How else would he have got here?

One of the doors opened..

Sam panicked momentarily, worrying he would get caught in some stranger's bedroom.

"Hang on this is a dream" he remembered "It's all in my head"

A woman stepped out with a large thick white towel wrapped around her.

It was Mercedes.

This was her room he realised, it must have been where he was last night, his mind piecing together the configuration of the room as he had recalled it.

As she stepped out, his eyes were drawn to the water droplets still glistening on her smooth brown skin, and her hair was clasped in a clip above her head.

"Uh oh" Sam thought. He was not really sure if this was the kind of dream he should be having. As much as a part of him did want to see what would happen next, another part of him felt like he was being voyeuristic. She still seemed real and it felt wrong to stay. His arguments were flawed and did not really even make sense to him but he needed to get out before she saw him.

"OK" Sam thought "If I'm dreaming then all I need to do to get out is just think of something else" He tried to think of somewhere else to be hoping he could exit this current dream, he tried to wake up. But he was still in Mercedes' room. Maybe that's not how it worked.

Perhaps he could find a way out of the room before she noticed, he turned and stepped towards the door.

"AHH!" she screamed.

She noticed her wide eyes staring at the mirror.

Mercedes clutched her towel close to her skin, her hand over her chest. Which Sam could not help but notice was very well endowed. She took a moment to regulate her breathing and collect herself.

"You're back?!" She realised as the shock settled.

"I'm sorry"

She breathed in and out again heavily.

"You really pick your moments don't you"

"I'm so sorry" Sam exhorted a little humiliated. She may be in his head, but her response to him felt very real. "I'm sorry I'm going to leave now"

He walked to the door and tried to open it, but noticed he found it hard to grip the handle. Like his hands were able to touch it but not have very much impact on it.

Mercedes watched him through the mirror somewhat curiously as he fiddled with the door handle. She couldn't help but find the mortified expression on his face little amusing.

"What are you doing?" she asked causing him to pause and looked up at her with a distressed expression on his face.

"Trying to leave" he said.

"Don't you normally just disappear?" Mercedes wondered out loud.

She had a point, Sam thought, but if this was his own mind, he didn't seem to have very much power in it.

"I'm trying but I can't!" Sam said "I don't know how to…"

Mercedes watch him through the glass, a crease between her eye brows forming as she took in what he was saying.

"Alright then…just stay" she said simply before taking some clothes from her wardrobe she returned to the bathroom. A little while later she came out fully clothed, dressed in jeans and black t-shirt. Her hair now tied back with an Alice band.

Sam smiled at her, he had stayed still standing by the door waiting and now watched her with interest.

"You look nice" he said.

"Maybe you should take a seat…seeing as you're stuck here"

Mercedes went to her desk and opened the notebook that was on there and began to write something inside. Sam sat on end of her bed patiently watching as she wrote. Her silhouette thoughtfully bent over her desk her hands busily writing. He enjoyed watching her lost in her own world.

Then she put down her pen. She closed her eyes and then looked out of the window out into the garden. She took in a deep breath before releasing it heavily into the air.

"You're still here aren't you?" She said still looking outside.

"Yes" Sam replied.

"Haven't figured it out yet?" She asked her eyes scanning over the lake in the distance.

"How to leave? No" Sam once again tried to imagine himself somewhere else, although the effort was half hearted.

"I realise that… I mean you haven't figured out why you're here, in the first place?"

"It's the question I keep on trying to find the answer to" Sam sighed exhausted.

Mercedes heart sank, she would have to tell him. She felt the anxiety rising into her throat as she began.

"At first, I thought you were in my head. But then I realised that you were just as confused as me about being here. Do you still think you're dreaming?"

Sam closed his eyes, he was feeling that throbbing sensation in his head again.

"Yes..." He believed he was, he thought he was, but it all still felt real, then he remembered "But you said I was lost"

Mercedes nodded. "I want to show you something"

Mercedes got up from her chair and turned to Sam. She looked at the mirror to locate where he was and sat near him on the edge of the bed. She could not see him directly, but she could feel his energy next to her, a powerful, beating presence that made her take in another deep sigh.

Sam took a closer look at Mercedes as she sat next to him, her black notebook in her hand, her eyes cast downwards. Sitting right next to her brought his senses to life. It was as if his skin was firing in response to the thin space of air hanging between her and him. He thought about the lines he would draw as he studied her profile intently, taking in each blink of her long lashes. She sighed and opened her notebook, removing a piece of newspaper and handing it to him.

Sam attempted to remove it from her, but felt a jolt of energy as his hands grazed hers instead causing them both to pause.

He tried again to hold the paper, but like the door handle before he was unable to have any impact on the page.

"I can't- I can't grip it" he explained as she held it out.

Mercedes was not surprised by this, it was not like she had much expectation of what he could and could not do, and after a pause nodded in acceptance. "Ok- I'll hold it you read it"

He recognised the paper, it was a printed page from his old university student paper

"It's got my name on it?" Sam noticed

"Yeah…" Mercedes said gently, waiting for his response as he continued to read article.

The headline read "Sam Evans: May you rest in peace".

"What?" Sam stopped reading and looked at Mercedes, who looked in his direction and then down at the paper, as if waiting for him to continue.

Sam read on out loud.

"He was loved by so many, the tragic death of one our fellow students Sam Evans at just 22 years of age has left a huge hole in the lives of those who knew him. His funeral took place yesterday…. "

Mercedes swallowed hard as Sam stopped mid sentence

"What the-" Sam stood up as Mercedes recoiled feeling the emptiness near her.

She started looking around the room.

"I'm sorry I don't mean to upset you- it's just I thought maybe it would help you…" she spoke into the space.

Sam wanted to laugh, he was dreaming that he was a dead person, it was funny even if he also really wished he would wake up now.

Mercedes looked at the mirror to see Sam pacing round her room shaking his head, his lips half smiling his eyes half perplexed.

"I know it's hard to take in but I just think that's why you keep coming here…because you don't recognize what's happened…that's why you think this is a dream... maybe because it's not sunk in yet…I just.. I wanted to help you…remember…"

Sam laughed and shook his head.

"So you think I'm lost because I'm dead?"

Mercedes closed her eyes, as if the word itself had bruised her.

Sam continued.

"I'm sorry but you might seem real to me right now…but for all I know I'm just having a dream about a beautiful woman telling me I'm actually really dead…that to her I'm a ghost"

Mercedes opened her eyes, and looked back at Sam through the mirror then away again.

"Well for me you keep appearing and disappearing like a ghost…and if you're not a ghost…well then that means you're in MY head…that means you're the one that's not real. If you're dreaming now… where do you go when you go when you wake up?" Her voice was firm, standing her ground with him verbally.

Sam stopped pacing and looked at Mercedes, her gaze once again had returned to the mirror, he looked at her reflection where her pupils pierced right through his.

Sam closed his eyes. He knew he was dreaming. This couldn't be real. Even if he was finding it hard to connect to his life outside his dream. He tried to remember, tried to go back. Images of, his apartment, of photographs of his family on his bookshelf, of Mike, blueprints, of Chloe, of Munchies and even Cooper Anderson, the chicken noodles he ate for dinner, began to flow though his mind.

He felt himself losing his presence in Mercedes room.

She did not need to confirm that he was gone when she looked at the mirror, because she could already sense it. She sensed it in the way her hair follicles relaxed and in how her palms felt drier, she knew from the way the beating of her heart steadied and from the way the emptiness that he left behind seeped inside her.

I know it must seem a little confusing right now, but there are answers!