Hey, y'all! So, I know it's been another minute, but I promise I'm making it up to you. I kept trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the chapter I had written because it was so LONG even for me. It would've been so much easier to just split things up, but I didn't want another 3-parter. Still, I ended up splitting them in two, so I'm uploading two chapters today! This first chapter will focus solely on Mercedes' and the next will focus on Samcedes' relationship after the conversation. I'm uploading them back to back so if you can stand it, the next chapter is already up! Please, please, please let me know that you guys are enjoying this with a review if you've got the time! So many of you have and I'm so grateful for all of y'all and your kind words. Dreams Come True should have a new chapter in the next few days. Okay, enough from me. Enjoy!

Darlene Jones- Jill Scott

James Jones- Cress Williams

"What?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew her dad was an absent one, but not wanting her? Blaming her for her mom's death? "I'm sorry Mercedes, but I'm gonna need some more information on that one."

Mercedes looked across her bed at him. There it was. The very can of worms she didn't want to open. "I haven't told you the whole truth about my dad. I'll tell you now, but Sam, this has to stay between us. No one else knows about this. Not Santana or Quinn or Kurt or anyone else. Neither do any of my family members. I don't plan on them knowing. Not ever if I can help it."

Hearing this, he frowned at her slightly. How was it that absolutely no one knew? "Okay."

"I need you to promise me. Promise me that you won't say anything to anyone about this. Ever," she said urgently.

Generally, Sam didn't have an issue with making promises. But right now, he was hesitant to do so. The vibes he was getting from Mercedes told him that this ran deep for her. What if she was in some sort of trouble? What if her dad was abusive and no one else knew? He couldn't just promise without knowing what his promise was about. "Mercedes, that's a big ask."

"I can't tell you if it's going to risk it getting out. I'm sorry," she said, a hint of something in her voice. Something Sam couldn't comprehend.

"Alright," he said. "I promise." Please, God, don't let me regret this.

Taking another deep breath, Mercedes wondered where to even start. Before long, she knew the place. She reached over to her nightstand to grab a framed picture. She looked at it and smiled mournfully for a moment before handing it to Sam. "My mom. Darlene Love Jones. We'll ignore the pop culture connections of her name for right now."

He chuckled as he took the picture and smiled once he saw it. It was a picture of Mercedes, no more than 5, on her mom's shoulders. Her mom's arms held her up by her hands and they were both laughing. Hard. "She's beautiful, Cedes." There were plenty of pictures of Mercedes' mom around the house and the bakery, but he'd never seen this one before. It definitely showed a different side of Mercedes. Her mom, though, not so much. Darlene was always smiling or laughing in any photo Sam had ever seen of her. The more he looked at it, he found himself letting out a laugh. He noticed Mercedes wearing the cutest metal frame glasses, something he'd be sure to ask her about in the future.

She nodded. "Yeah, she was. Every day was like that with her. Even when one of us was upset or mad, it never outweighed the love we showed each other. That's rare."

Sam agreed with a nod. He understood that love. Despite her troubles, he and his mom were the exact same way.

"That's why I keep that picture beside my bed. That and my other one. I don't ever want to forget how much I loved her." Her eyes started to water once again. "How much she loved me." Mercedes got on with the story, "Before she died, I always wondered why we were so close. Why she always held me so tight and protected me so fiercely, sometimes with her dying breath it seems like." She looked off for a moment, distant. "Eventually, I figured it out."

He looked up from the picture. "What was it?"

"Do you remember how I told you she had cancer when she was pregnant with Amaiya? And she wasn't able to treat it in time to live for much longer after having her?"

A nod.

"Turns out, she had had it before. When she was pregnant with me. From what I know, it was a similar situation: she could get treatment and possibly lose the baby or have the baby, get treatment after she gave birth, and maybe she could live. Another thing she would always do is call me 'Gia', which means 'God's gift' or something. It doesn't make much sense really, because she didn't believe in God? Anyways, she said it was pretty much her way of calling me a miracle baby and it took me a long time to figure out why."

"You didn't consider yourself a miracle baby?"

She shook her head. "Until I was 8, I never knew she had had cancer before that Amaiya. My parents didn't tell us and my brother was too young to catch on or remember, so," she shrugged. "No one knew except for my dad and my grandparents. To this day, I'm the only one out of my siblings who knows. And like I already told you, no one knows that I know."

"But if no one knows you know, how'd you find out?"

"That's where my dad comes in. It all happened in one night. It was about 6 months before my mom passed, 3 before Amaiya was born, and a couple of months or so after her diagnosis. I heard my parents fighting in the middle of the night."

9 years ago

Mercedes giggled as she evaded her mom's grasp yet again. "You're so slow!"

"That's what happens when you're having a baby, Gia. My stamina isn't what it used to be."

They were on their umpteenth round of tag and Darlene was losing. Bad.

"Do you want to take a break?" Mercedes asked.

"Are you kidding me? I don't need a break to tag you, little girl." She smiled. "Come here!" She jolted after her.

Letting out a joyful squeal, Mercedes led her mom around their backyard.

All of a sudden, Darlene stopped running after her daughter and fell to the ground in a coughing fit.

"Mom!" Mercedes ran to her aid but was unsure of what to do.

"I'm okay, Gia," she said between coughs. "Just… give me… a sec."

"Darlene!" James hurried over to his wife just as her spell subsided. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Catching her breath, Darlene told him she was fine.

"She started coughing." Mercedes explained. "We were playing tag and—"

"Tag?" Her dad looked at her like she was crazy. "What were you doing playing tag with her, Mercedes? You know she can't run around like that!"

Darlene came to her daughter's defense. "It's fine, James. She didn't mean to put me in harm's way. I asked her what she wanted to play and this was it. I'm okay."

"No, it's not." James went over to his child. "We talked about this," he said sternly.

Ashamed, Mercedes shot her eyes down to her feet. "I know."

"What did we say?"

She glanced up and his glare as he towered over her made her want to burst into tears. "No roughhousing or active playing. But Daddy, I didn't think it would—"

"It doesn't matter what you think, Mercedes. What matters is your mom could've gotten seriously hurt. Everything is not a game all the time and you need to start realizing that. So from now on, no more tag, no more hide and seek, no more of any of that stuff. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," she barely spoke loud enough to be heard.

His tone eased, "Go get ready for bed."

"Can Mom tuck me in?"

"Of course I can, baby."

"We'll see." James objected. He looked at Darlene. "You need to rest."

Mercedes quietly went upstairs to get ready for bed. A few minutes after she got to bed, there was a quiet knock at her door. "Come in."

The door creaked open and her mom appeared around it with a smile.

Mercedes sat up enthusiastically. "Mom!"

"Hey, Gia." Darlene closed the door behind her and sat in the spot Mercedes made for her on her bed. "I thought someone might want me to come tuck them in."

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I didn't mean to make you sick."

An understanding smile stretched across her face. "It's okay, sweetheart. I ain't gonna fault you for wanting to play with your mama. Especially not when I'm better at tag than," she thought for a moment, "oh yeah, anyone else!"

Mercedes laughed. "I just really like playing with you." She looked down at her hands now in her lap. "And you're going to be gone pretty soon. I want us to be able to play before you go."

Darlene's smile changed from a happy one to a sad one. She rubbed Mercedes' cheek. "It's okay, Gia. I know this has got to be hard on you."

Against her husband's wishes, Darlene decided that they needed to be as open as possible about her illness with their children, even little Mercedes. She wanted them to know that she wasn't choosing to, but she would be leaving them. The last time she was sick, they chose not to tell JJ, their oldest, and even though she survived, she couldn't bear to think of how hurt he would've been if she'd disappeared from his life without any warning. That was the last thing she wanted to put either of her babies through.

"What are you feeling like today, hmm?" Darlene moved over to the small bookshelf across from the foot of the bed. "What about Dr. Seuss? We've got The Lorax, If I Ran the Zoo, Oh, the Places You'll Go!"

"Boring," Mercedes droned. "Those are too easy."

Darlene chuckled. "You do always read me under the table with those."

"Can we sing a song?"

"Of course we can." Darlene got back on the bed. "Let's see. What's a good song for a young woman such as yourself? Oh, I've got one." She cleared her throat before beginning her song, "The itsy bitsy spide-"

"That's a nursery rhyme!" Mercedes caught her with a smile.

"Oh!" She palmed her forehead. "Duh. Okay. What do you wanna sing? I can't think of anything." She tried not to smile when she asked the question. She knew her daughter and given the choice, there was only ever one thing she wanted to sing.

"Aretha!" The little girl jumped at the chance.

She looked at her, feigning deliberation before giving in. "Alright. Day Dreaming. Just like we practiced. Ready?"

Already upright, Mercedes straightened her posture. "Ready."

"Take it away."

She cleared her throat before beginning the song. "Day dreamin' and I'm thinkin' of you, day dreamin' and I'm thinkin' of you, day dreamin' and I'm thinkin' of you, day dreamin' and I'm thinkin' of you."

Darlene joined in to harmonize with her, "Look at my mind floating away." She smiled wide.

Knowing she began the verse, Mercedes kept up the song going. "He's the kind of guy that would say 'hey, baby, let's get away. Let's go someplace, huh? Where I don't care'."

Darlene took her part. "He's the kind of guy that you give your everything, entrust your heart, share all of your love, 'til death do you part."

They finished the verse and the rest of the song in tandem. All the while, Darlene found herself fighting back tears. There weren't a lot of parents whose children shared their same talents and dreams. Mercedes was a good singer to only be 8 years old. Almost too good. It was with her help of course, but a lot of the reason Mercedes was so good so young was that she really loved it. This little girl was her pride and joy. It was so beautiful to listen to her and so sad that soon, they wouldn't be able to have moments like this anymore. She hated that she wouldn't be there so watch her baby grow up and become one with her voice.

One thing about Mercedes, she loved singing, but this song always made her sleepy. It was definitely a lullaby in its own way. She yawned, "Can you teach me 'Ain't No Way' tomorrow? I've been waiting forever," she groaned.

Laughing as she lay her child back down in bed, Darlene obliged. "We'll start on it tomorrow. You and 'Retha got something going on, huh?"

"She's my favorite," she said sleepily. "When I grow up and become a singer, she's going to be the first person I ask to be on my album."

"Whaaat? Even before Beyoncé?" Darlene pulled the covers up onto her.

Mercedes nodded. "I love Beyoncé, but she's gonna have to wait. But I'll be so good that it won't even matter."

Darlene turned on the nightlight beside her bed and sat on the floor next to her. She placed her hand on her face lovingly. "Remember what we said, Gia. It's not about how good you are. It's about how much you love it."

"And how much I can make people feel good," she added.

Her mother gave her a nod. "That's right. I need you to promise me something."

"Okay."

"Promise me that no matter what happens, you keep singing every chance you get. No matter what anybody says or thinks. Not your friends, not whoever you marry, not even your dad. As long as singing makes you happy, you sing with all you've got at all times. Can you promise me you'll do that?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, half asleep.

Darlene smiled lovingly. She knew her baby probably wasn't hearing anything she was saying. But still, she hoped she knew how much she wanted her daughter to do the thing that made her happy. "Night, Gia. I love you." She kissed her on the forehead before quietly sneaking out of the room.

A few hours later, Mercedes woke up with a thirst only a secret glass of her mom's lemonade could quench. She stealthily made her way out of her bedroom to the kitchen downstairs. After downing an entire glass and preparing another to sneak back up to her room, Mercedes walked happily to the stairs, her secret mission almost officially a success. But as she passed the downstairs bedroom, she heard someone talking and they weren't happy.

First her dad, "You're not making me do this again tonight."

Then her mom, "Nobody ever makes you do anything, James. And I'm starting to think that's the problem."

Mercedes neared the door to eavesdrop, a pastime of hers that she enjoyed thoroughly. She found it funny and thrilling to listen to people's conversations when they didn't know she was there. Plus, it definitely upped the ante on the secretive nature of her late-night kitchen adventure.

"Why are we talking about this, Darlene?"

"Because I need to know that you're not just getting ready to throw everything away again."

"I'm not throwing anything away. I'm making enough for the both of us."

"By selling drugs," she included the information he failed to mention.

"Does it really matter how I'm getting the money as long as I'm getting it?"

"It does. This is not what we agreed to. You convinced me to quit my job because you said you could make enough money to support us LEGITIMATELY. This is not that!"

"I'm an ex-con, Darlene. People don't give a damn about hiring me. The only legit money I have comes from my mom's bakery. Do you know how embarrassing that is? And still, I kept that job. But minimum wage ain't enough, no matter how you slice it."

"Then why make me quit my job?"

"You know why. You need to stay off your feet."

"No, what I need is a husband who isn't willing to up and leave our family at the drop of a hat. What happens to our kids if you get caught again? I'll only be here for them for so long."

"Whatever, man."

"No." She wasn't letting him get off so easily. "Why do you do this? Why is this the life that you're determined to live? You could go straight, James. You could look for jobs like everyone else, but you don't. You and I both know there's good work for ex-cons in the city. But you won't even bother to give it a chance!"

"You think I have time to pound the pavement right now, Darlene? I don't. We have bills that need paying."

Mercedes would've killed to be able to see in the room right about then. This was about to get good.

"Why can't you just be here for your family? Our family? Are we not enough for you?"

"Darlene."

"Why are you so okay with doing something that could take you from us again?"

"Because sometimes, I need a break," he said finally.

"A break from what?"

James huffed as he realized his admission ended one conversation only to begin another.

She asked something that sounded more like an answer than a question. "From being a father?"

He immediately deflected. "I don't want to do this tonight."

"James, I'm gonna ask you something and for just once, I want you to be honest with me. Do you love our kids?"

He huffed tiredly again. "Of course."

"Just not her, right?"

No response.

"Answer me."

"You keep bringing this up. Why?"

"Because, James. I keep thinking that this is some nightmare that I'm going to wake up from. I keep thinking that there's no way you could feel that way about your own child. I can't process that. But the more conversations we have about it and the more I start to understand why you do the things you do and say the things you say, the more I realize that it doesn't make a difference if I think I'm asleep or not. Because the fact of the matter is you don't love our daughter, you never wanted her, and I'm leaving that angel with a piece of shit who could care less about anyone but himself. That is why."

"You're fucking delusional. You know that?"

"Why don't you just admit it already?" She sounded genuinely confused. "Just admit the thing we've been dancing around for the past 8 years. Admit that the reason you can't bother to stick around is that you don't want to be near her."

"Please."

"Admit that you can't stand to even look at her because all you see is the person who proved to me that you can face death and survive. And you blame her for all of this because if it weren't for her, I wouldn't have had the balls to face yet another life-threatening diagnosis while carrying a child."

"Fine! I admit to all of that. Is that what you want me to say?"

"I ignored it at first." Mercedes could hear tears in her mom's voice. "I told myself you were just nervous and scared because hell, so was I; I had cancer, 18 months to live, and a baby in my belly. Everybody was nervous and scared. But even after everything was fine and she was born, you resented her. You didn't hold her the way you held our son. You didn't plan her birthday parties or make her favorite cake the way you did for JJ. It's always been like this. And this is where we are now. Just a few hours ago, you were so mean to her for what? Playing with me?"

"I walked in on you in a coughing fit." He justified his actions.

"I have lung cancer! I have a coughing fit when I come back from getting the mail. You just don't want to be nice to her. Now I'm realizing you'd rather go to jail than take care of her."

Mercedes stood beside the door, unsure of what she should be making of the conversation. Who were they talking about? Who was this daughter? Did Mercedes have a sister she didn't know about? It couldn't have been her. Her dad loved her. Sure, he was mean at times, but it was because he loved her. Right?

James asked, "Does that feel good to get off your chest?"

"I'm done getting it off my chest. It's your turn."

After a pause, James gave her what she wanted. Calmly, he said, "Fine. Where do you want me to start? You want me to start with how I think she doesn't realize the gravity of this situation and is running you ragged all day every day? How about I go all the way back to the beginning and say that if you had just gotten the abortion when I told you to, she wouldn't be here and none of this would be happening right now?"

"Her being here is one of the best things that has ever happened to us."

"To you, maybe," he said lowly. "But to me, she's just a reminder of how fucked up all this is. If you would've gotten treatment when you were pregnant with her, the cancer wouldn't have had a chance to resurface anywhere else. We would've gotten it in time."

"You must be out of your goddamn mind. That treatment would've killed her, James!"

"I would've rathered her than you!" He boomed.

After a not-so-brief moment of silence, Darlene whispered, "You are sick, do you know that?"

"You wanted me to say it so I did. I can't help how I feel, Darlene."

Her voice was filled with despair. "After all the pure, unbridled joy that little girl has brought into our lives? Into our home? Mercedes' mere existence is a miracle."

Mercedes? They were fighting about her?

"Do you really believe that? Look at us. Nothing good has come to us since you had her. When you're gone, I'm the one going to be left with having to face the consequences of your actions in the form of an 8-year old. You see pure, unbridled joy, but I don't. I see a little girl who brings nothing but hurt, pain, and death to all of us. So yeah, sometimes, jail does look better than having to stare at your worst mistake every day."

A slap. Mercedes couldn't see anything, but she knew a slap when she heard one. Then, someone sniffling. Probably her mom.

Darlene's despair quickly turned into anger, venom shooting out with each of her words. "Don't you call my child a mistake. EVER. I will fuck you up. Do you understand me? Mercedes is not and will never be either of those things. The fact that we both survived my cancer for this long is a miracle and I would do it all over again if it meant I could bring a child with half her goodness into this world."

"And that's my other problem. You want so badly to make another precious 'miracle baby' that you're completely ignoring the value of your own life. I tried to tell you not to go through with it and you didn't listen. You chose to save her when you should've saved yourself. It won't pan out so well this time."

"But how is she at fault here? I'm the person who chose to have her then and have this baby now. She's a child! You can't blame a child for the decisions of her mother. "

"I can. You know why? Because she knows how much you love her and she plays into it. She knows you can't say no to a game of tag and you don't even realize the damage she's doing. She changes the way you see things and it's because of her that you're dying now. So yeah, I can and I do blame Mercedes for what's happening. I didn't want you to have her and you're not going to get me to take that back just because you're blinded by whatever spell she's put on you," he said assertively.

In that instant, Mercedes quietly walked away from the door and back up to her room. She didn't want to hear anything else. She didn't want to know anything else. She put her lemonade down on her nightstand and as soon as it left her hand, she felt an overwhelming emptiness. Her dad was right. How could she have done this? How could she have been so careless with her mom? Her mom had chosen her over herself and she was paying her back by helping kill her even faster. She didn't know her mom had been sick before, nonetheless while pregnant with her. No one ever told her. She never asked. She should've asked. She should've known. Now, her mom was dying and it was all her fault.

The child was unable to even climb into bed, she felt so hollow. She sat on the ground next to her bed, pulled her knees up to her chest, and cried all night.