Didn't intend for the chapter to be so long, I just had issues finding a stopping point and I kept cutting and pasting, then revising and ugh! I hope it turned out okay! And the next chapter is pretty much a Mercedes chapter... but I don't know how soon it'll be finished.
The Rite
Quinn headed home after the jog. She had to get washed up and do some things around her place before coming to work. Mercedes and Sam walked to the shop together with Clusterfrak and Kissy. Sam was surprised that they could have a long, comfortable conversation – mostly because Miss Fabray could hardly seem to be able to say two words to him without annoyance. "So, what's the deal with Quinn Fabray?" Sam asked Mercedes. She flinched at the question then did the closest thing to a side eye that he imagined someone like her could do, because she was never actually looking at you, anyway. He explained, "Is she with her daughter's father, or…"
"No," Mercedes said very quickly and Sam noticed that her grip on her handle became tighter for a moment then, she loosened it again. Anyone else might have missed it, but he had spent the past seven years being especially attentive to every detail surrounding him and that was a tight, tense reaction to a simple question.
"What's he like?" Sam asked, wondering about his possible competition. Sam wasn't stupid, and even though it'd make the workplace a little awkward, he knew that he could find some way to make Fabray cave. She wasn't the first self-righteous All-American girl whose daddy would frown upon her mingling with a ruffian.
"You'll meet him," Mercedes said. "We have to head to the community center that he works at to drop off some supplies."
"So, the two of you are pretty good friends," Sam said, inwardly laughing at the nervousness that she seemed to have over this subject. She was pretty happy go lucky and didn't worry too much. He was really wondering why this guy flustered her foundation like that. Mercedes was thinking about the previous day when Puck called her and reminded her to meet him for lunch…
She made her way to the table, and was greeted by Puck's embrace. They both sat at their table and Kissy posted herself beneath it, near Mercedes' ankles. Mercedes was the first to talk, "I'm spry that I'm running late. I was trying to head up another project and it's really not going as smoothly as I would like it to."
But, Puck broke into her generic explanation to ask, "What are you doing with this guy?" She sighed and he told her, "Of course, Quinn called me the moment that you told her about your decision, and I tried to wait until lunch to talk to you about it, but then she called again to tell me that you'd run off with the guy…"
"We went to the Magic Mirror!" She defended herself.
"This is dangerous, Mercedes. It's reckless. It's probably the most unsafe thing that you've done in a long time."
"Since helping you, yes," she jabbed back. Puckerman shut his eyes and sighed. She heard the sigh, but couldn't see his hands shaking or his face growing red as he tried to center himself. She broke the silence, "Why is his issue any different than any of yours?"
"His issue kills people, Mercy."
"Puck, had you been in a car in the condition that you got into cars many nights, in the wrong place at the right time, YOUR issue might have killed someone too!"
"It would have been accidental. I googled this dude!" He pulled some papers out of his coat pocket and started reading, "Evans seemed oblivious to the nature of the seriousness of the trial and sometimes entertained by the reactions of people in the courtroom." He skipped to another highlighted part and said, "Sixteen year old Evans stated, 'I didn't kill anybody, so, no I don't feel bad about what happened. I feel bad that I have to be in court every day, like this. I'm sixteen. There are other things I want to do with my time."
"Puck," she tried to get him to stop.
"Sixteen year old Sam Evans found guilty of accessory to murder, appears to be wearing a smirk as he shakes his head in disbelief and promises that he'll be fine. Quote: I'll have brotherhood inside and my lawyer says that he'll work on my appeals, so – I'm not really worried about that jury. They were clearly biased n…" Puck whispered, "He actually said 'niggerlovers' to the press! Right after being convicted of a very serious crime against black people and in the same conversation as claiming that he'd get off for it."
Mercedes' eyes welled with tears. "Puck, the fact that you think that I didn't do proper research myself is more hurtful than the facts about the person that I have already made a commitment to help. What is it that you guys think that I do all day? Skip through the damned meadows and walk on sunshine? Being BLIND does not make me a foolish, incompetent human being. I have all of my other faculties, INCLUDING some damned sense. I spoke to his parole officer this morning, while he was in the shower. She gave me his full background and review AND I googled and checked public records, as well as one of the local white supremacist organizations official website. So don't treat me like poor Mercy who gets screwed over all of the time because her poor little eyes don't work. I get screwed over because I care too much, but I always know exactly what I'm getting into and exactly what I'm doing."
"Mercedes…"
"Everyone insisted that I not help you, too, Puck. He's not himself when he's drunk. He's been arrested for beating people up when he's like that! What if he hits you? What if he kills you? What if he steals from you? But, I knew when I found you, even though I could see the blood, I could feel it on your face and felt the scratches and bumps and I don't know how to describe ANY of that, but I understand that a guy that stumbles along too drunk to remember how he got beat up is probably not somebody to take in. Yet, I DID! I gave you a chance and it worked out. Isn't it hypocritical of you to try to deny someone else?" Her nostrils were flared and her eyes were widened.
Puck reached out and stroked her hand. "I want you to help him. I do. I just don't want you to get hurt doing it. Why not put him up at Emma's?"
"Emma doesn't have room, right now. Once again, you guys think I'm Queen of the Damned Simple. I have checked with my homeless shelter contacts and I have jumped through loops to try to get him in somewhere. Goddamn!" She jerked her hand from his hold and fumed. "We have to come by the center tomorrow, promise me that you aren't going to go into get every issue you have with the Aryan brotherhood off of your chest mode."
"I didn't realize that I had such a mode," Puck said.
"Promise, Man," she repeated.
"I promise," he told her. Besides, if he tried to fight her on this, her stubborn ass would just try harder. He would see Sam Evans, and he was going to study that mf-er like it's the Geography test that he's got to pass to graduate! Nobody was going to hurt Mercedes Jones, ever again. Not while Puck was alive.
Sam and Mercedes remained in silence for a time. She led him to the basement, and the two of them loaded the van with all of the donation boxes. Apparently, her shop was a donation box, among everything else. Sam had gotten a list from Quinn… Miss Fabray… of all of the stops and appointments that Mercedes had for the day. Among them were the Salvation Army, Samaritan's Purse, and a butt load of local places, homes etc that he had never heard of and did not even realize were in the city. "Why do you do these things?" He asked.
"What things?" she wondered, in a small voice.
"Collect shoes, clothes, toys and things for homeless people, battered women, and underprivileged children," He held out his hands obviously, "Take in known criminals and give them food and employment…"
"Are you going to do it?" She asked, with a slight jump of her eyebrow and a little sass, as she climbed into the passenger's seat of the van.
"I wasn't planning on…" he stopped and mused, "Because you think that someone has to."
"Because someone has to," she corrected him. "For things to go right in the world, someone has to be bold enough to decide they're willing to make a sacrifice for someone else. Hell, my ancestors fought for freedom so that I can be a blind, black woman who has her own business. Even though I can't tell you the physical difference between my skin and yours, I'm still grateful knowing that someone stuck their necks out for me. So, I stick my neck out for others, even if it kills me…" She said, distantly.
He didn't know if that was in reference to him or not, but it seemed like something else. Sam made his way to the driver's seat and got in, as well. "I can understand why your friends are so protective of you," he told her. He could. He had only known her for a little over a full day and he was ready to protect her, his damned self, if he had to. But, he knew that he owed her. Unless she was setting him up for some great, grand catastrophe (which had not been ruled out, in the back of his mind), then she was truly worthy of being called a saint.
"They're protective of me because I'm blind," she said with a hint of offense. "If I had the same personality and possessions and I could see, and you walked into my life and I tried to help you, do you think that they would be doing all of this?"
"You're strong and very capable of taking care of yourself. It took me less than a day to see that. I'm positive that they realize it." She shrugged her shoulders and turned on some music. He watched her twiddle with her fingers, nervously. So, she had insecurities, after all. He smiled softly, and reached over to touch her hand. She took the hand that reached for hers and began to look at it, with her own hands, making some type of an assessment. Somewhere inside of him, he hoped it was a good one.
Sam and Mercedes walked into a building, with Kissy growing evermore excited. When they came into the center of the open wide room, a slew of children rushed over to them and began to pet and hug the dog and Mercedes. Sam saw Quinn's… whatever he was, holding a basketball under his arm, talking to another guy with crazy tarantula legs coming from his head. Both of the adults made their way over to Mercedes and greeted her in love. "Guys, this is my new friend, Sam."
Tarantula head smiled and held out his hand to shake, "Congratulations on turning over a new leaf, Man. I don't know if anyone's told you that, yet. Just want you to know, God's smiling upon you."
"Th – anks," Sam answered, confused.
The other male reached out and shook his hand, as well, "I'm Noah Puckerman. They call me Puck. I'm an event coordinator here, and this is Joe Hart – he's our community center minister. These are the kids," he said and held his hand out to cover the group.
Sam looked at the children and for the first time noticed that all of them were maimed or deformed in some way. He tried not to cringe, because that would be offensive and hurt the kids' feelings. Puck went on to say, "Mercedes volunteers as a voice coach and teaches piano. Joe teaches the guitar and Bible lessons. I teach sports and arrange activities. You want to find something rewarding to do with your life? Volunteering is a good way to show you how to be a proper man."
Sam turned to see Mercedes seated on the floor with several children on her lap and crowded around her, talking. He could imagine her being one of those people that went on overseas missions and bonded with underprivileged people in third world countries. She truly had a glow about her, all the time. For a moment, he envied the fact that she couldn't see, because it gave her a chance to know people for who they were and not feel enslaved to stereotypes and misconceptions… Puck leaned into Sam's eyesight and caught his attention, again. Sam shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't really have any skills."
"Generally, people have skills disguised as hobbies and missions disguised as passions." Joe asked, politely. "So, what do you like to do?"
"Sing. I do play guitar, too. I like dancing, a little bit. I enjoy drawing and doing impressions…"
"You do impressions?" Joe asked, while Puck was asking, "You draw?"
"Yes," he said, to both of them.
"You could help with our arts program," Joe said, happily and looked to Puck for further encouragement.
"Or entertain the kids sometime," Puck said.
"Maybe. I haven't really found any footing yet," he said, but he was grateful for some decency from the guys. They weren't nearly as disapproving as the ladies and Kurt. However, they had not seen even a trace of his tattoos, either. Sam noticed that both of the men had necklaces, and had assumed that both were crosses. Joe's was a cross. Puck's was actually a Star of David. Sam unintentionally stared at it, once he noticed it. He frowned at the sick feeling that his brain had associated with it. He changed the subject, to ask about other community efforts.
After a moment, Puck said, "Joe, when Becky comes to give the kids snacks, take Sam on the tour and introduce him to Artie." Puck asked Mercedes to come talk to him and took her hand and escorted her into an office. Sam watched the two of them and looked at Joe. Joe gave him a bashful smile, which seemed to indicate that he really didn't want to get involved. A woman with Down syndrome came carting a rolling tray with snacks on it into the gym and Joe waved Sam over for the tour of the place.
"So, that's him," Puck said.
"Yep – that's the guy," she said and toyed with the drawstring on her pants.
"He is a couple of heads taller than you and muscular. He's worked out for a while – probably while on the inside and not only is he a killer, but probably also a really good fighter, because he managed to go into prison as an adult at sixteen and come out in one piece. You need to try putting him up at Emma's."
"She's got no openings, I told you!" Mercedes said.
He can stay here," Puck said. "I'd much rather that than have to worry about you every night."
"You were there last night. There is no way that he can get to me," she said.
"You don't exactly just stay put in your apartment all night. You go for walks at three in the morning if you have a song in your head that you need to find a place to sing it out. You play in the rain if there is a Midnight thunderstorm…" She giggled and he fought off a chuckle himself, "Your quirks are part of the reason we love you so much. It'd kill us if something happened to you, especially me. You gave me a new life. I mean, you helped me to recover from being a no good drunk kid with an absent father. I owe you my life, for nights of vomiting all over your shop and calling you from the bridge, threatening to jump…" She simply tapped her foot anxiously. Puck continued, "I'm sorry about everything that I did wrong, but even though I wasn't ready or right for somebody like you – I still love you and I can't stand the thought of something happening to you."
"Everybody keeps saying that like ex-cons are just beyond reformation!" She snapped and balled her fists up. "Puck, if I judged you about things that you've done in your past, we wouldn't be having this conversation!" He rubbed her arms and she calmed down, a little bit. "You are one of the very few people that know about my dad," she told him, in the quietest audible voice that she had. "When he got out of prison, he couldn't find any work, Mama didn't let him come home, and he became a homeless drunk that ultimately ended up getting killed in a burning abandoned house." She reached out and touched his face, "My daddy wanted to change. He wanted to have a life with me and Mama and be a better man. But, no one would step up and let him change. Do you know how unfair it is for all of us to want other people to accept our flaws, but not to be ready to accept the flaws of others?"
"I'm not saying don't give him a chance. I'm saying let him sleep here. We have plenty of room." He pulled her close and squeezed her tightly.
"Okay. That makes sense," she said. "And thank you for not treating him like a plague. I appreciate that, especially since I know that you didn't do that for him."
"Sure didn't and if he would've looked at my Star of David the way he did again, all bets were about to be off," he laughed and released her. She reached out for his pendant and traced it with her fingers. Puck leaned close to her and planted a kiss on the side of her face, with Sam watching them through the window, from across the gym. Mercedes patted Puck's chest twice and went to have a seat. Now, she and Puck could talk, like the friends that they were, again.
Joe knocked on the office door when he and Sam returned from the tour. Puck helped her to get out and when she had Kissy in her clutches again, Puck invited Sam to a guys' night out. Sam could use one of those.
Puck, Joe and Artie picked up Sam from the shop when it closed at 7:00, and he had his duffel bag and the clothes that Kurt gave him with him, as he would be staying in the community center, for everyone's comfort. The four of them went out for dinner at a sports bar with lots of games. Sam was not even aware that such places existed! This may very well be his new favorite place, when he accumulated some money. He would have liked to enjoy somewhere like this with his younger siblings. Maybe someday, he could.
He was being served by a rather vocal Artie in ping pong… which amazed him, because Artie was in a damned wheelchair! But, it was all in good fun, and Sam was enjoying himself – with this group of friendly, non-Aryan guys. He couldn't remember the last time that he had fun that wasn't fueled by hatred or drinking and/or drugs, or fast women. In speaking on women, he saw one across the room and she looked like she might have been looking at him. She was small and cute, with honey blond hair and fashionable clothes.
She was with a light skinned, very attractive black girl and a nice looking, bubbly brunette with blue eyes and all three of them seemed interested in what was going on in his direction. Puck asked, "Which one are you looking at, the blonde or the brunette?"
"I was kind of just bouncing around," Sam admitted. "They're all really good looking," he said.
"Even Giselle?" Puck asked, "The black chick?" He seemed genuinely surprised.
"You know those women?" Sam asked, ignoring the question.
"I know the black one. She used to dance at a club that I used to frequent when I was drinking… Might… have, maybe had a go or two with her." Sam looked impressed. She was gorgeous. She had the body for stripping. "She actually does like real dancing now – on a stage and stuff. Pretty cool."
"She's really attractive," Sam said, "But, I think that the blond one is into me."
"I knew you'd pick the blond," Puck said.
"She saw me first, and I think she may even be a red head. It's kind of hard to tell is this lighting." Sam insisted. "I'm not picking her because she's the blond one, although historically, I am attracted to blondes. Quinn is amazing…" Sam winced a bit and looked at Puck with a side eye glance, checking his status.
"Quinn is…" he sighed and said, "A complicated person." He nodded once and took a sip of his soda. "But, all of us have our complications, you and I included. She is a beautiful woman."
"You two aren't together, are you?" Sam asked.
"We never were," Puck said, with a shrug. "We had sex one time, on a weak night, on both our parts and tahdah! Beth. Trust me; Beth is the best thing that ever happened to me. It's just that whole thing with Quinn opened up a lot of problems that are never gonna go away. We are friends for the sake of our kid. I took one look at my baby girl and knew that I would never be a failure again, or I was going to die trying not to be. "
Sam nodded his head and said, "I used to feel like that about my little brother and sister, but after I got locked up, I decided that it was best that I just stay the hell away from them. I didn't want to have them try to love me from on the other side of glass windows. They're sixteen now. I don't know what kind of lives they live, what kind of kids they ended up becoming. I care, but I'm too scared to check. What if I ruined them? What if things happened that they needed me to protect them from and I was locked up because I was so stupid?"
"Then, as a part of your debt to society, or God, or yourself, or whoever it is that you're trying to change for, you owe it to them to own up to what you did and face them," Puck said with a shrug. "Won't be easy, but – most things worth anything are not easy. I learned that from Mercedes."
Now, Sam looked at him and asked, "Okay, so what's up with you and her?" Puck's facial expression grew solemn, but he avoided the question by suggesting that they buy the ladies across the way some drinks.
"Noah Puckerman!" Giselle called as she and her party finally made it over.
"Hey! What's up?" He asked.
"Just out with a few friends. Harmony is one of my costars in a recent production," she pointed to the brunette, "and Sugar is one of our physical trainers," she pointed to the blonde.
Sam asked, "Your name is Sugar, or is that what they call you?"
"My name is Sugar, and that's what they call me," she said, in a high pitch voice that Sam didn't particularly like, but with the desire in her eyes, he could overlook her voice. The two of them talked for a little while longer before Sugar told her friends that she had to leave for a moment and would be back. She took Sam's hand and suggested, "Let me show you something." Puck chuckled as she led the guy out of the building.
"What's the story with your friend?" Giselle asked.
"He's recently out of prison. Hasn't gotten laid in seven years," Puck said.
Giselle shook her head and covered her heart, "I don't know who to feel worse for, him or Sugar." She laughed a little, and then asked, "What was he in for?"
Puck halted. He knew what Sam had been locked up for, but it just occurred to him that being with Sam might put him in a position for other people to identify him with a goddamned Nazi… "You'll have to ask him about that one," he said, casually. "I try to stay out of the heavy issues."
Mercedes went walking with Kissy and Cluster. The three of them made their way to the community center. It was a little bit late, but she figured this was important enough, and none of the effin guys were answering their phones! She tried to buss into the place and there was no answer. She wondered just how long they were planning on staying out. When the bus arrived, she had been sitting outside listening to a book on her mp3 player for well over an hour. "Mercedes, what are you doing out here?" Puck asked.
"Is Sam with you?" She asked.
"Yes, but Cedes – this is dangerous, you can't just…"
"Sam, your parole officer called the shop tonight looking for you and said that you need to check in with her." She held her phone out in front of her and said, "I saved the number in my phone." He quickly rushed to retrieve it from her hands and when he did, she mused, "You smell like a woman's entire vagina!" She laughed and told him, "Congratulations. I'm told that seven years is a long time without that kind of thing."
He fumbled with the cell phone, trying to figure out how this one worked. It was fancier than any of the phones from before he went away, and he was a little confused. "You're told? You've never had any dry spells to be able to deduce that?" He finally saw the name, in the contacts: Sue Sylvester… now how to call her back?
"Mercedes is a virgin," a slightly drunken Artie commented. Sam let go of the phone and fumbled with it before luckily catching it. "I've tried to get it. Shane tried to get it. Puck tried to get it – came close, but alas, the honey pot has not been wedged open."
"Artie!" Puck snapped, then looked at Joe, "You're taking him home, right? I've gotta get Cedes back to the shop."
"Of course," Joe said and began to push his buddy's chair. He pointed at Sam and said, "You, be at our next community center volunteers' meeting. Enjoyed your company, tonight."
Sam smiled and said, "Thanks man and of course. Will do. Will do." He sighed and said, "I can't figure this phone out."
He handed it to a still laughing Mercedes, and she wiped her fingers across the screen and spoke into it. "Dial Sue Sylvester." She handed it to him and said, "Voila!" He held the phone to his ear and watched as Mercedes and Puck walked a little further away and began to talk. The woman answered the phone and she was not happy about him calling at this time of night, but they set up a meeting for the next day. He sighed and tried to figure out how to hang up. He just shrugged his shoulders and held on to the phone.
"All done!" He called out. A laughing Puck and Mercedes came over to him and he handed her the phone.
Puck said, "I can let you in before…"
"I'll ride," Sam said with a wave.
Mercedes laughed more and said, "Actually, Sam – you're a little dank, Sir. Maybe you ought to hit the shower and I'll expect you tomorrow morning at the shop at 9:00. Puck nodded and unlocked the building for him then, locked it back once he was inside. Sam watched Puck help her into the vehicle and felt a hint of jealousy. That was weird. He shook it off and made his way to where Joe had shown him the shower room was, carrying his duffel bag over his shoulder.