Thank you for reading and commenting. I apologize for the lack of angst in this chapter. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 11

She woke up gently, nuzzling his leg, before she realized where she was. "Oh, I didn't mean to drift off like that. How long have I been sleeping?" she asked looking very embarrassed.

"Not that long, but from the looks of it, you needed to sleep." Sam had been watching her, for the better part of an hour. No nightmares this time, she seemed to be sleeping quite soundly.

"I should go," she said sitting up running a hand over her hair. "I'm sorry I just took over your bed like this. You must be so uncomfortable."

"I'm good actually. You sort of fit in the perfect spot."

"I usually sleep here…"

"I sort of figured you must have done this before."

"Now I feel really embarrassed. You must think I'm such a freak."

Well maybe a bit of a freak. It was strange to find out someone was so close for months and not even know it. "I don't think you're a freak. I'm just curious why you seem to care so much about me."

"I guess I got attached over time." She got this faraway look in her eyes like she was lost in a memory. "Though I have to say from the first moment I saw you, I was kinda hooked."

"Love at first sight huh?" He was just teasing but she definitely reacted to the comment, smiling sheepishly and if she were a lighter complexion she would have turned pink.

"Something like that," she said quietly.

"So you were here when I was brought in from the accident?" Sam didn't even know what caused the accident, where it happened, who was involved. Nothing. He was totally blank about an accident that derailed his life.

"Yes, right by your side."

"I must've been in pretty bad shape."

She looked like she wanted to cry. Her face falling as she spoke. "You scared the crap out of me. You coded so many times."

Maybe it was because she was new to the profession, since she couldn't have been that long out of college, that could've been why she was so emotional about the night of the accident. She probably wasn't yet used to life and death matters that are part of the job. She'd have to toughen up or she wouldn't last long as a nurse.

"You're really something. I know most nurses don't care this much."

"I have no objectivity when it comes to you. I can admit that. You are my favorite patient. I'm not sure I would've been able to handle it if you something bad had happened to you." She looked him directly in the eyes when she said that, her brown eyes making his stomach flip the longer he held her gaze.

"I probably should be screaming for help and scared as hell, because this is a little freaky."

She started to climb over him, leaving the bed. "Sorry. I can go." Sam grabbed her arm stilling her movements. She stopped, straddling his leg, her hands bracing herself so she wouldn't put her weight on him.

"No don't. I'm not scared. All I want to do is thank you." He let his fingers slide down her arm to her hand, pausing when he hit her wedding rings. "It's probably very obvious to you that I am single, not a woman anywhere wanting to be with me."

"I'm sure you have your fans," she smiled as she stared at his pale hand on top of her brown one. It was as if they both were waiting for something to happen, for someone to make a move.

"Not a woman I can call my own then. Knowing you were with me, through all of this, for the whole nine months, makes me feel like at least one woman out there cared about me, other than my mother."

"Quinn cared. She came to visit you quite a bit."

"Did she care as much as you?"

Their eyes met. "She's not your nurse." Mercedes answered not looking away.

He licked his lips as he let his eyes drift down her face. "That didn't answer my question."

"How should I know how Quinn felt?" she asked dropping her head and moving off of him to sit on the edge of the bed, her feet touching the floor. "I only can speak for myself."

"So speak for yourself. Tell me the truth. Why do you care so much about me?"

"I really can't do this right now. I'm going to go." She got up abruptly, pulling down her pink shorts that had bunched up while she slept. Sam had to turn away to hide his reaction to that sight.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot." She hadn't moved, even with his head turned away from her, he knew she would be still standing by the bed, watching him. "I just want to know what this thing is I'm feeling between us."

Sam wasn't even sure why this was so important to him. So his nurse had a big heart. He should be thankful and move on. But his mind wouldn't let him. It felt like whatever Mercedes said next would change things between them. It was the key to why he was so drawn to her.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied. Sam rolled back over to face her.

"Yes you do," he said grabbing her arm pulling her back down on the bed next to him. She was on her knees in front of him, her hands clutched at her sides, twisting the sheets with her fingers.

"I feel safe when I'm with you," she admitted still unwilling to look him in the eyes.

"Why?" he asked his voice cracking.

"I don't know. I just do. Whenever I couldn't sleep or when things got too stressful, I would come in here with you and curl up next to you and talk."

"You used to talk to me?" He could picture it, her sitting by his bed chatting away.

"For hours, every day."

He smiled. "That could explain why I like listening to your voice."

"Could be."

"Talk to me now." He put his hand on her thigh, letting his middle finger skim the edge of her shorts. "Tell me what's wrong. Why are you so sad all of a sudden?"

"I'm not sad," she said trying to sound convincing, even forcing a smile. But her eyes betrayed her, still wide and haunting, her pain was reflected there.

"You can trust me Little Nurse."

"I know." She reached out and stroked his chin absently, as if she wasn't even aware she was doing it.

"Is it about your husband? What did he do?" He was feeling bolder as he let his hand grasp her hip, shaking her slightly to get her attention. He wanted her to answer him, once and for all.

"He broke my heart. He sort of left me, and I'm not sure if he'll ever come back."

Mercedes was upset, flustered by her admission, backing away from him, trying to get off the bed. Avoiding his eye line at all costs. She ran her fingers through her hair, looking frantically around the room, like she was searching for an escape. Sam wasn't about to let her flee. Ever since coming out of his coma, the only thing that felt remotely right was her. He didn't understand much else, but he knew he couldn't let her go. Reaching out and grabbing her, the IV in his arm straining against his movements, he gathered her into his body, surrounding her with his arms. And she melted, like he somehow knew she would, holding him closer, grasping the back of his head.

"Why would he leave you?" he whispered into her hair. "Why would he leave that beautiful little girl? It doesn't make any sense."

"Some things are just not meant to be," she said letting him go, breaking free of his arms. She sat upright, pulling her knees up to her chest.

He couldn't help but touch her again, his hand resting on her thigh. He couldn't be this close and not touch her. It was absolute insanity. Sam had never been this drawn to a woman he had practically just met. Sure he had made instant connections before, and those connections usually led him into bed. But this was different. It wasn't about sex, it was about an inexplicable need to make her feel better.

"What can I do? Do you need money? A place to stay?" Sam asked rubbing her head softly.

"You're sweet," she said as she finally looked at him, sad eyes trying to fake composure.

"I want to be there for you, like you've been here for me."

This was starting to feel like one of those cheesy romances on the woman's network on cable, where the man meets some down on her luck lady and starts making all these declarations to help her get her life back on track. Riding to the rescue was not usually something Sam did. He just wasn't the heroic leading man type, but she made him wish he were. He felt like he should be doing something to make her sad brown eyes brighter.

"That really isn't necessary."

"I know I can't make you feel better, I mean I'm not the man you love, and I'm not trying to be a substitute for him. But if you need someone to lean on, even just for a little while, I want you to know you've got me."

Tears spilled as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, soft yet lingering, her hand caressing his face even after she had pulled away. Sam tried to read the look in her eyes. Was it awe, admiration, gratitude, something deeper? All he knew for sure was that it made him want to slay dragons for her, place the world at her feet, anything to see her look at him that way again.

"You don't even know me. Why are you doing this Sam?" she asked watching him intently.

He honestly couldn't answer that. Witchcraft was the first thought that popped into his mind. Not much else made sense. He just didn't get this involved with women he hardly knew.

"Just feels like something I should do. Not to mention you're almost family." That was the best response he could muster.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"My mom told me your dad is close to my father. So that would make you almost an honorary Evans."

Maybe he could think of her like a godsister. That was almost like family, then he could push all these inappropriate urges out of his head. He would just help her and let that be that. Now if only he could take his hands out of her hair. Sam let his fingers fall through her black waves, telling himself that this time would be the last stroke, only to find his hand tangled up in her hair again.

The door opened and a tall bald looking man appeared. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, as he finally let his hand drop to his lap.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans? I didn't think you'd still be awake."

"Marcel? What are you doing here?" asked Mercedes getting out of the bed and walking toward the man.

"Mr. Dwight hired me back. He said you were sick."

Marcel was about 6'5", very lean, dressed in loosely fitting scrubs. Sam wasn't sure of his age. He could have been thirty or fifty. He had an accent, sounded like French but not quite.

"I'm not sick," said Mercedes. Sam could hear what sounded like annoyance in her tone.

"Yes she is," Sam interjected. Smiling when Mercedes turned and shot him a glare. "She's a patient here like me. I'm Sam by the way."

"I know sir. I'm Marcel. I've been with you here before."

"Marcel is a nurse from the agency. He used to take care of you when I wasn't here," stated Mercedes.

"Mrs. Evans was always so particular about your care sir," said Marcel as he walked over to the bed, Mercedes right on his heels. "She never wanted you left alone and everything had to be perfect."

"That sounds like my mom."

Marcel frowned. "No not…"

"Marcel as you can see I'm here right now," Mercedes interrupted quickly. She was acting pretty rude to the man. Sam was surprised by her attitude. "So maybe you can start your shift in the morning?"

"I can do that," he said and Mercedes physically escorted him to the door, her hand on his back. "And I promise no emergencies this time. I won't leave without telling you."

"Thank you Marcel," said Mercedes shutting the door behind him.

"Didn't that guy remind you of Lurch from the Addams Family?" asked Sam laughing lightly.

"What's the Addams Family?" asked Mercedes.

"A classic TV show from the sixties." He had almost forgotten how young Mercedes was. Not that he knew her exact age, but clearly she was too young to appreciate black and white TV. Not that he appreciated it much before Quinn.

"Don't watch much TV," she said as she leaned against the chair.

Sam tried not to let the fact that she had put so much space between them bother him. In fact, it was a good thing. He wouldn't be tempted to touch her from that distance. Problem solved.

"Quinn and I watched tons of TV Land when we were in high school."

"Sounds like you have a lot of nice memories," she said sadly.

Again Sam was left wondering what was going through her mind to make her get suddenly so emotional. They were just talking about television.

"Good and bad memories, you know how it goes."

"Yes I do."

"I really can't wait to see her." Sam smiled thinking about when he would actually get to see Quinn in the flesh. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

"You definitely do," she said almost under her breath.

"What do you mean by that?" Sam asked tensing up from her tone.

"Just that you have three years to catch up on. Lots of new developments I'm sure."

"Right," said Sam relaxing. "So that Marcel seemed nice."

Mercedes nodded taking a seat in the chair. "He lasted the longest of all your nurses. Your dad was firing them weekly at one point."

"He didn't fire you."

She flashed a grin. "He knows better than that."

"Weird that he said Mr. and Mrs. Evans. I got excited for a minute there."

"Thought you might have a wife?" she asked glancing at him quickly before dropping her eyes.

"No, I know I don't have one of those," he chuckled. "She would have come around by now."

"Then what?"

"I thought my parents had gotten back together." That would have been a surprising plot twist for sure, but a lot could happen in three years.

"Really?"

"I know completely not happening, but couldn't help but have the thought. I've always wanted that deep down since I was a kid," Sam admitted.

"What kid doesn't want to see their parents happy and together?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm a little old to still be having that dream now though."

"I don't know about that. There's a part of all of us that never grows up. You'll always be that little blond boy with missing teeth running through the house fixing stuff."

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a pretty accurate description of me as a kid. How'd you know that?"

"I've heard stories. Between your dad and Will, I've got a good picture of you as a child. It was helpful with Beth, let's me know what to expect."

"I'm glad the stories helped you with your daughter. Though, I'm not sure how. Evans' are a rare breed, doubt your child will have our traits. But at least my embarrassment is good for something."

"They weren't bad stories. Your dad just loves you and is very proud."

"My dad? Dwight Evans? I think you've got him mixed up with someone else," Sam scoffed. "We don't have that type of relationship. Did you notice he's barely been to see me? He's not the type to care, let alone share stories."

"He's been scarce because he doesn't agree with your doctors. He thinks you should be told about all you have forgotten."

"I'm in total agreement with him there. So why is no one talking?" asked Sam.

The reminder that everyone was so tight lipped around him brought his frustrations back to the surface. If his dad didn't agree with the doctors, why in the hell weren't things changing? His father could just fire them all and tell him what he missed.

"He agreed to cooperate and respect my wishes."

"Your wishes?" asked Sam eying her warily. "How do you have any say in this?"

"That didn't come out right. Probably still groggy," said Mercedes. Sam could tell she was trying to cover her ass. "I meant that he agreed to respect the doctors' orders."

Sam scowled. "My father doesn't follow orders. This doesn't sound right."

"I'm going to let you in on something," she said leaning forward as if she were afraid she would be overheard. "Tomorrow they are going to start filling you in on stuff."

"Finally. Now I can start putting my life back together," Sam said feeling very relieved.

"I hope you're happy with everything you discover."

"Even if the past three years were horrible, there's at least one good thing." He reached over and took her hand.

"What's that?" she asked her eyes showing just a hint of sparkle even in the low light.

He threaded his fingers through hers. "I made a new friend. Which in and of itself is amazing. I'm not one to let new people in my life. I don't let people get too close."

"Why'd you let me in?" she asked inching to the edge of the chair, letting their entwined hands rest on her knee.

"I keep trying to figure that out myself. Just feels right."

He kept saying that. It feels right, but that was the only explanation he had. It was just something that was in his gut, pure instinct. He was one to trust his instincts, they usually never steered him wrong, so he was going with it, wherever it led him.

"I never really had any friends until I came to Lima. I've made some good ones here."

"Like Puck? You mentioned you knew him well."

There might have been the slightest hint of jealousy in that question. He could admit, to himself at least, that it bothered him when she said she knew Puck. Puck had already messed with one of his girls, he really didn't want to have to share another one with him. Not that Mercedes was his girl or even his to share, but it was the principle of it all. Technically, Puck had known Mercedes longer than Sam, he had to have, since Sam was comatose for almost the entire time she had been in his life. But things had progressed this past week, and Sam was feeling just a little possessive of his nurse. He didn't like the idea that she was friendly with Puck in the same way she was being friendly with him now.

"Yes, like Puck. He's more like a big brother though." Sam smiled. Big brother was good. That was a perfect way for her to feel about Puck. "I don't know what I would've done without him. He's been so good to me through this. Everyone has."

"Through losing your husband you mean?" he asked wondering if this was what his mother had been hinting at earlier, or was there more to it.

"It was a long road."

"Sorry Little Nurse," Sam said pulling her over to the bed. "First year of marriage should be happy not heartbreaking. I hope things get better for you soon."

"That means a lot. Thank you," she said sitting down next to him, still holding his hand.

"I've been in your shoes. My marriage was not the best either. So if you ever need to talk…"

"It goes both ways you know. I'm here for you too."

Sam made a face. "I'm not really into sharing. Don't like to unload my problems on people."

"Sometimes it helps. No pressure, it's a standing offer."

"Thanks." He felt her pulling away, and he reluctantly let go of her hand.

"I guess I need to head back to my own room," she said turning her back to him to put her feet on the floor.

"Stay," he said placing a hand on her shoulder. "I would like the company."

"Are you sure?" she asked still not turning around. "I don't want to cramp your legs."

"You can stay up here next to me. More comfortable that way."

He let his hand trail down her back, and Sam could have sworn she leaned into his touch. He really needed to stop being so timid with her and find out what was in her head. Worse came to worse, Marcel would just have to be promoted to working with him full-time. But all of this halfway stuff was driving Sam crazy. He was still too weak to try to read between the lines with her.

"I don't think that would be appropriate," she warned, but still turned and got under the covers next to him.

"Don't get all squeamish and PC on me now," he teased unable to contain his smile as he looked at her next to him. "You just admitted you did this all the time while I was comatose."

"That was different, you didn't know I was here."

"Maybe I did," he said tracing a circle on her bare arm with his finger. She was shivering and he had barely touched her. "Having you here feels pretty natural."

She ducked her head trying to hide her smile. It was cute that she was acting so shy. He didn't believe for a second that she was really this embarrassed though. He got the sense that she could be very direct when she wanted to be.

"About the kiss earlier," she started, as she reclined fully in the bed.

He propped up his elbow, resting his head on his hand, leaning over her. "Oh you remember that?"

"How could I forget? I wanted that for so long." She turned bright red when the words left her mouth. Apparently she had said more than she wanted to. "I shouldn't have said that. Things are going to be all weird now."

"Things aren't weird, they've just changed."

"How have they changed?"

"We've gotten closer wouldn't you say? We've become more."

"How much more?" she asked, her breath quickening. Sam watched her chest rise and fall beneath her happy face t-shirt. He put his hand on her stomach, just to see what she would do. She stopped moving the moment he touched her, holding her breath it seemed.

"I guess we'll see where this night takes us," he said leaning in a little closer to her. "Are you tired?"

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried," she responded a little breathless.

"Me either. Any suggestions on what we do about that?" She placed her hand on top of his that was still resting on her belly. Sam wasn't sure if that was his cue to remove it or take things further. He tried to read her eyes.

"Not a one," she replied as she started to play with his fingers. He guessed that was his answer. She didn't want him to move his hand.

"I can't think of anything either," he said his eyes fixating on her mouth.

"It's going to be a boring night," she said letting her hand wander up his arm. He was so glad he had managed to roll up the sleeves on his pajamas. Her hand on his skin felt amazing.

"Mind numbingly dull," he agreed inching his head closer to hers.

"There's always the Speak & Spell."

"Haven't you noticed?" he smirked. "I can talk now."

"Oh right. Must have slipped my mind," she said, her focus moving from his eyes to his mouth. There was no mistaking the look on her face now.

"Meds making you hazy?" he asked sliding his hand from her stomach to her side, dragging her closer to his body.

"No you are. Can't seem to focus when you're this close."

"You too? I've been having the same issue."

"Maybe I should get in the chair. Might help," she said gesturing toward the chair with her head.

"Mental clarity is overrated. That's why drugs are so popular."

"I tend to just say no. I'd like to keep my good girl image intact." He felt her hand run through his hair, with a gentle pressure that nudged him closer to her face.

"What can I do to make you just say yes?" he asked with a smile. He licked his lips, deciding what his next move would be.

"Wait what was the question?" she asked her voice barely above a whisper.

He was a breath away now, hovering above her. Her eyes slid closed as she arched her back slightly to put herself even closer to him. Her tongue peeped out, moistening her full lips, and that was all it took for Sam to make that choice. He slid his free hand through her hair as he let his lips sweep against hers, tugging on her bottom lip lightly with his teeth. She moaned opening her mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss. She pulled him closer, molding her body into his, kissing him harder, sliding her tongue into his mouth.

Less than two weeks out of a coma and Sam was dangerously close to falling into old patterns and thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy. He thought he would have gained some new insights from his latest near death experience, but clearly some things would never change for him. That thought was actually comforting in his currently very screwed up life. If he had forgotten all else, at least he still knew that sometimes you just had to shut up and kiss the girl.