Finally Sam...

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Chapter 6

Sam's head was pounding, a constant throb, that felt like a heartbeat in his brain. His throat was sore too, raw and stinging with every swallow. He knew he had done too much today, over exerted himself, pushing his body further than it was ready to go. It wasn't like he had much of a choice, he wasn't going to sit back and let everyone keep lying to him. Technically, not lying, but definitely withholding, and that felt almost as bad. It made him feel like a child, as if they thought he was unable to deal with the circumstances of his life. Sam may be weakened, but he wasn't fragile. How dare they treat him like he would break from even the slightest news?

He looked over at the young woman sleeping in the chair beside his bed. She had curled herself into a little ball, pulling her feet under her, head resting on her arm. Strange that the one person he felt most comfortable around at the moment was a complete stranger. Or maybe not so strange, since the fact that she didn't know him was the reason he felt more at ease. His family, soon everyone, would know that he had lost his memories of the past three years. He would be faced with pitying stares and unspoken condolences for his misfortune. Sam had been there before, when he injured his leg, he couldn't bear it again. Nothing was worse than being treated like some poor pathetic freak that had to be tip toed around and coddled. Sam hated to be coddled. He was a man, an Evans at that. He was strong and he could handle anything, he didn't need his feelings pampered, he needed, no he demanded to be dealt with straight up.

He had accused his nurse of coddling him. Sam cringed as he recalled the harsh words he unleashed on her earlier in the day. He had been so angry that she wouldn't tell him the truth about his coma, that he lost it, and had taken it out on her. Big time. But thinking back on it, he realized she never really coddled him at all. Quite the contrary actually, she always dealt with him like he was a whole man, not some chump stuck in a bed. He had actually liked that about her. He looked over at her again, her dark hair in disarray, coming out in sprigs from her loose ponytail. Her face was puffy, probably from crying. Why had she been crying? A wave of embarrassment washed over Sam as he remembered the way he broke down in front of her. He didn't understand why he felt it was safe to do that with her, to freely let all of his pain out, to place it all on her shoulders. Maybe it was because she was his nurse, and that was her job, to manage his pain. Whatever the reason, he was glad she was there. He couldn't face his family yet, but he didn't want to be alone either.

She twitched in her sleep, her head rolling from side to side. "Don't let go," she called out.

Sam didn't know if he should wake her. She had been making noises and talking in her sleep the entire time. He had just watched, curious about what could be making her so upset in her dreams. She seemed so sweet, so upbeat, fun loving. A girl like her should be dreaming about rainbows, days at the beach, boy bands, but something had her spooked. It was strong and relentless, whatever it was, wouldn't let her sleep in peace.

Just as Sam had decided to wake her, she sat up abruptly, looking around disoriented.

He thought she was going to ask where she was, instead she said, "Have you been watching me sleep? Are you staring at my drool?"

"Staring, pointing, a little laughing." He thought it best to keep it light, things were weird enough between them already, so much had happened in just a short span of time he didn't need to reveal he had been watching her.

She rolled her brown eyes in his direction. "How are you doing?" she asked sitting up straighter in the chair. She went to smooth her hair, but gave up halfway, bringing her hands back down to her lap when she saw him watching her.

"I'm doing okay, all things considered." He glanced over at her quickly, just to check for any sign of pity on her face. There was none.

"Had I been sleeping long?" she asked rubbing her eyes groggily. "I usually don't do that."

"Do what?" he laughed. "Sleep?"

"Yeah," she said looking down shyly.

"Don't you have any help?" he asked trying to get comfortable in his pajamas. The sleeves kept falling down over his hands. He hated that.

"Help?" she asked, a confused expression on her face.

She looked tired, dark circles under her sunken in eyes. She was compact, solid, but surprisingly not hard, when she hugged him Sam wanted to bury himself in her, just nestle himself in the softness of her body. And that body, so many curves his eyes didn't know where to look first. She reminded him of those old models from the 50s on the calendars his dad used to hang in his study or like Jessica Rabbit, the girl of his childhood dreams. All breasts, and rounded hips, thick thighs and that ass. Oh god, he needed to stop. Here he was, his life in the shitter, and yet he still found time to ogle his nurse. His spunky little nurse, Sam still couldn't believe how she stood up to him, not giving an inch, even when he threatened her job. He was impressed with her.

"Sam," he heard her say, jarring him from his inappropriate thoughts.

"Right. Sorry. I was wondering if you had any help with the baby. She's yours right? I mean she doesn't look like you, but that doesn't mean...I mean well it seemed like you were close to her and I just thought...okay you can tell me to shut up at anytime."

She looked a little uncomfortable, but she still responded. "You're fine. The baby is my husband's."

"Your husband's child? The baby seems really young. How old is she anyway?" Sam adjusted his pillows and turned to his side to face Mercedes.

"Almost five months." She pulled her feet up on the seat resting her chin on her knees.

"I know infants can be a handful. Does your husband pitch in?"

"Beth's a good baby." She smiled softly, as if she were seeing the baby in her mind. "She's not big on sleep, but then again neither am I, so we get along," she giggled, seeming a bit nervous.

"I take it you share custody with her mom."

"We have full custody at the moment," she responded her voice fading as she buried her face into her knees, only the top of her head visible.

Sam frowned, trying to work things out in his mind. Something seemed off with all of this. Why would her husband have a baby that young with someone else? Then it clicked.

"Oh I get it now, you and your husband used a surrogate. So if she's five months old that means you were working with me before she was born. Did you get a maternity leave or anything? I know you didn't physically have the baby but still new mothers need to have time to bond with their babies before…"

"Sam how's your throat feeling? Your voice seems a little more hoarse now." She leaned over and felt his glands, switching into work mode. Sam suspected his questions were making her uncomfortable. Not that it made any sense. New moms loved to gush about their babies.

"Abrupt subject change," he said pulling away from her hands. "Was I being too nosey?"

"I just don't like talking about myself."

She had striking brown eyes, pretty, not like Quinn's, where he sometimes had to catch his breath when she looked at him, but something about his nurse's eyes drew him in. Sam couldn't put his finger on it, but it was almost like she was hiding something behind them, if he looked deeper he would unlock whatever secrets she kept. He must be really bored, searching for adventure in the eyes of his nurse. Sam pulled himself away, focusing on the colors of the quilt covering the bed instead.

"I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but you just witnessed one of the most painful moments of my life. A little reciprocity wouldn't kill you. Evens the field a bit."

"I guess that's fair," she agreed slowly. "What do you want to know?"

Sam paused momentarily trying to decide what it actually was he wanted to know. He had started the conversation to break the ice, to ease the weird tension that had settled over the room. He had thought things would flow naturally, instead it had felt like he was pulling teeth trying to draw her out.

"Tell me something about yourself. How long have you been married?"

"It's coming on a year."

"Newlyweds? You didn't waste any time, started a family right away." Sam couldn't help but envy her a bit. She had the life he always wanted, a home and a family, something Sam felt would forever remain just beyond his grasp.

She shrugged. "Time's precious, don't you think?"

He let out a deep breath. "I'm starting to realize just how true that statement is."

Her eyes widened, as she sat up straighter in her seat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go there, bringing that back up."

"It's not like I haven't been thinking about it this whole time. Hard to forget, losing three years of my life."

"I'm sorry you have to go through this. I wanted you to have an easy recovery." She shifted uneasily in her seat, moving around, as if she couldn't find a comfortable spot.

"Could be worse. I could still be in a coma or dead."

"You almost were," she said, her voice cracking with sadness.

"That bad?" he asked his heart lurching when he turned to see her tear filled eyes. He must have been really bad off to make a nurse react that way.

"You scared us all. Your family was terrified you weren't going to make it."

"Hard to picture. They're a pretty cold hearted bunch."

"I think it's just a cover. They love you a whole lot."

"Sounds like you got to know them pretty well."

It just hit him how nice his parents had been to Mercedes whenever she was around. They almost seemed fond of her, which was ridiculous because his parents never wasted time caring about the help. They often criticized him for his friendly interactions with staff, saying it made him look weak, like a pushover. Sam just couldn't manage to be so cold. He got to know people who worked for him and naturally cared about their lives.

"They were here a lot visiting you. Your parents rushed right over when I called them earlier."

"Why did you call them? Because I got out of bed?"

"Because you were asking questions. I thought they should be here."

"Thank you for calling them."

"No problem. Sort of my job, looking out for you, at least it used to be. I guess you sort of fired me." Her voice hitched as she spoke and Sam's gut twisted even worse. It was as if she took it personally.

He really couldn't blame her, no way she could've known that he was prone to fits of temper, where he'd say and do things he usually later regretted, and wished he could take back. He had fired his assistant Katrina numerous times in the months she had worked for him. Sam suddenly remembered it hadn't been months. It had been years. Katrina had probably stopped being his assistant years ago. She probably had finally quit, weary of his tirades. Sam didn't even know if he had still been working for D&E, maybe he had left, took up a new career path, maybe he wasn't even living in Lima at all at the time of the car accident. He couldn't remember anything. So many maybes.

"I feel really bad about that. I had no right to do that, to say those things to you." He tried to catch her gaze, but she seemed to be avoiding him, her eyes flitting about the room.

"Nothing I haven't heard before."

"Well it's unacceptable. Patients don't have the right to verbally abuse their caregivers."

"It's hard being sick, feeling helpless and afraid. Nurses have pretty thick skins."

His mind flashed to earlier when she hugged him. She'd been so sweet trying to comfort him. It felt like she truly cared. He marveled at how someone so small could feel so strong, as she offered her shoulder and caressed his back.

"So why were you crying?"

He hadn't meant to ask her but the words just slipped out. It had struck him to see her crying earlier, her tears still flowing, long after he had pulled himself together. At first, he chalked it up to the sentimentality of females, or hormones, but now he wasn't so sure. Something in the way she looked at him, the sadness she exuded from every aspect of her body, led him to suspect something deeper was troubling her.

"I was upset for you. I don't like to see you in pain. That's my curse, I care too deeply for my patients." She was tearing up as she spoke, her eyes shining.

Her sad brown eyes beckoned him, drawing him into their watery depths. A sudden urge to comfort her overtook him and he had to forcibly resist, reminding himself that she wasn't the one hurting. She was merely reacting to his pain.

"I have to say, I like being cared for by you. You make me feel special like I'm your only patient."

"I'm a nurse, that's what we do."

He nodded. "You need a bonus. I don't know how much my father's paying you but he needs to double it."

"I'm not in it for the money."

"I didn't even ask if you work for the hospital or if you work for me, like as my private nurse."

"I'm all yours."

Their eyes locked. She seemed to be reaching for something, searching his eyes, almost a pleading. It was disconcerting and Sam had to look away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"That explains why you're around so much. How long have you worked for me?"

"I've been here since the beginning, when you first arrived," she replied getting up from the chair and walking over toward the window. She was almost out of his eye line, Sam had to strain his neck to see her.

"Wow. So you've been watching over me this whole time?"

"Something like that." Her back was to him, as she continued to look out of the window.

"It's kind of nice knowing you were with me all this time. It's comforting."

"Well you've got me until the end," she said turning to face him, looking as if she were forcing a smile. "Until you're back on your feet 100%. That is if you want me."

"Oh I want you." Sam groaned inwardly at his poor choice of words. "I mean I want you to stay as my nurse, despite what I said during my rant earlier."

She leaned over the back of the chair, gently rocking herself back and forth, like on a see-saw. "You mean your hissy fit."

"I'm thinking men don't have hissy fits," he said scrunching his nose up at the term.

"Well you sure did. I thought your head was going to spin. And when you tried to get out of bed…"

"Okay, okay," he said raising his hands in surrender. "Let's call it a meltdown. How's that?"

She smiled. "That works."

"I need you to know I didn't mean what I said. I do trust you. I know you were just following doctor's orders when you didn't tell me about how long I was in a coma."

"We were trying to prevent you from having a meltdown."

"I get that now. I just don't like being kept in the dark, even when it's for my own good. I need to know at least one person in my life will always be upfront with me. You think you can be that person?" he asked watching her intently for her response.

"Why me?" she asked her voice sounding shaky. "You don't know me."

"I know enough. I've got good instincts. I feel I can trust you."

"I'll be whatever you need, Sam." She said it so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

"Good. I also need to apologize for something else." He sat upright in the bed, turning slightly so he could face her.

"What's that?"

"All those things I said to you, the suggestive stuff, the flirting. I was out of line there too. I mean you're young. How old are you anyway?" he asked eyeing her up and down. She didn't even look old enough to be a nurse, more like a candy striper.

"Old enough," she responded with a slight roll of her eyes, looking slightly annoyed by the question.

"Right," he said drawing out the word.

She smirked. "Don't worry I'm legal."

"I figured, since you're married. Which is another reason I shouldn't have said those things. I was really disrespectful. It's just that I…" he hesitated unsure whether he should continue.

"What? Finish your thought."

"I thought I picked up something from you. I don't know, a vibe."

Not being one to beat around the bush, he threw it out there, just to see if she would bite. It wasn't that he was looking to start something up with her, that actually was the last thing on his mind, especially after learning about the huge holes in his memory. He had bigger issues to worry about than sex. Although Sam was pretty sure it had been a long time since he had been with a woman, nine months at least, so maybe it was somewhat of an issue for him, just not an urgent one, not yet at least. For his nurse however, it seemed to be a different story. Sam got the impression that she actually was looking to start something, maybe with him.

"A vibe?" she asked, looking at him blankly.

Okay, maybe he was wrong, she didn't seem interested in the least at the moment. Maybe she was just a flirt and used it as a tactic to get patients to relax. Silly of him to assume he was anything special to her. She didn't even know him.

"Yeah, like maybe you were interested. And I know that was completely off base now," he covered quickly. "You were just being friendly, I just took it wrong. You must think I'm the biggest jerk on the planet."

"No I don't." Mercedes took a seat back in the chair, smoothing the wrinkles out of her pink scrubs, before crossing her legs at her ankles.

"Come on, really?" he asked raising his eyebrows. "I had you play translator between me and another woman then I proceeded to flirt shamelessly with you. You must think I am some sort of player." He was a little embarrassed thinking about how his actions must have seemed to her.

"I do know your reputation."

Sam frowned. The tabloids must have really done a number on him in recent years. "Don't believe everything you read. I'm actually quite loyal."

"I know you can be. I mean I can sense that about you." He wondered why she seemed so nervous. Something really bad must have been in the papers about him.

"Thanks. Just to set the record straight, Quinn is not my girlfriend. I mean she was, once, a long time ago, but that's over."

"I can tell how much you still care about her."

"I'll always care about her, you know? She was my first love, but I'm not sure the feeling is mutual."

She looked uneasy, fidgeting in her chair. "You don't think she cares? Sounded like she did over the phone."

"I think I am forever friend zoned with her and she sees me as this sad puppy with a perpetual crush."

"So you're not over her."

"I can't imagine ever getting over her. She was my first love, best friend, and dream girl all in one. How do you forget a person like that?"

"Yeah," she trembled, wrapping her arms about herself.

"You're shivering. What's wrong? Are you cold?"

"I just got a chill. Go on. You don't think you have a shot with Quinn anymore?" she asked leaning forward, her hands on her knees.

"I think, to her, I'm just her friend and old boyfriend, can't imagine I'd be more than that after she got with my cousin."

"She and Puck broke up."

"You know about that?" he asked very surprised.

"I know Puck very well."

Sam looked at her quizzically. Did she used to date Puck? He couldn't seem to picture Puck trolling the Lima University campus looking for love.

"Well even if she did leave Puck, still doesn't change how she sees me. I'm the one she passed over, the one she gave up. Hard to make a comeback from the number two spot." Even after so many years it still hurt to admit that. Sam wondered if he had managed to truly put that pain behind him during his missing three years.

"You don't seem like a number two kind of guy."

Sam just shook his head and smiled. She had no idea about his terrible romantic history. "Believe me I am, with Quinn, with my ex-wife, always the consolation prize."

"Maybe you just haven't fallen for the right person."

There it was again, that vibe. Clearly he was rusty in the attraction deciphering department because he was so off the mark about her, and yet he still couldn't shake the feeling something was there.

"Maybe." He gave her one last look, trying to figure her out, before shifting his gaze away. "Anyway, Quinn's just my friend and I thought we were in a crash together and I was worried. That's why I kept asking about her. Little did I know that years had passed since we were in that limousine accident."

Sam's mind drifted back to that cold night of the limo plane crash. Chest to chest, both naked to generate heat, it had somehow felt right to be under that blanket with her, possibly facing their deaths together. The one woman his heart couldn't let go of. It didn't matter that Brittany was probably somewhere cozying up with Santana, not anymore, not when Quinn had returned to his orbit, blazing into his life, leaving a trail of stardust at his feet for him to follow. And Sam knew he was headed back there, back to her, even when he had enlisted her help to win over Brittany. He knew deep down, that Quinn would end up being the one, his ultimate goal.

In some ways she had always been, the one who got away, his first love, lingering and true. It didn't matter that he had been married to another woman or that they hadn't seen each other in years, when she turned her green eyes on him and graced him with her gorgeous smile, it all came rushing back. Who was he kidding? It had never left. To preserve his sanity, Sam maintained a calculated distance from her, keeping contact, but never getting too deep. He had accepted the fact that she had moved on with Puck, but he couldn't bear to see it. He tried to avoid any situations that would put him in blatant contact with that relationship.

"Must be hard adjusting to that." Mercedes said, pulling Sam's thoughts back to the present.

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around it," he admitted.

"Give it time. You'll get there," she assured him softly.

"I can't help but wonder about everything I missed while I was in the coma," he said sighing heavily as he leaned back into his pillows, to stare up at the white tile ceiling. "Not to mention all the things I can't remember. I could have a wife and kids somewhere and not know it."

Although, he was pretty sure he wasn't married. If he had been his wife would have been by his side or at least visited by now. Then again if he went by his track record, it could have been completely possible that he was actually married, but to a woman that didn't give a damn. His wife could have already moved on to a new man or woman while he was comatose, probably secretly praying he never recovered. That thought was just too cynical, even for him. If he were married, had a family, he would know it.

"You'll get those missing pieces back. I promise."

"I hope so, because to me its 2011 still. So much could have happened between then and now."

"You could look on the bright side. You get to live your life twice now. Everything will seem new to you. It will be like trying to solve a mystery. Never know," she shrugged. "Could be fun."

He smiled over at her. "You have a really unique way of looking at things Little Nurse."

"My name's Mercedes," she said giving him a small smile, that didn't seem to reach her eyes. She looked sad all of a sudden.

"I know. But you're Little Nurse to me," he said softly, smiling at her when she finally looked him in the eyes.

"I better let you get some rest," she said standing up. "I need to head to my class."

"You're still in school?" he asked a little shocked, thinking his father might have pawned a trainee off on him. "I thought you were a real nurse."

"I am a real nurse. These are extra classes."

He relaxed slightly, relieved she was actually qualified to be there with him. "Oh you're one of those overachieving types."

"I suppose."

"I can see that about you. I can tell you're smart."

She ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting the ponytail she had it in. "Most people look at me and see a party girl."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Really? I don't see it. I picture you home on a Friday night, head in the books."

She shot him a look. "So you see me dateless? Good thing I'm married then. If your image of me were accurate I wouldn't have a shot at a social life."

"I didn't mean it like that," he laughed. "I'm sure they're tons of guys dying to go out with you. By the size of that rock on your finger, you hooked yourself a real winner," he added gesturing toward her left hand.

She looked down at her hand, running her finger over the rings, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Could be diamonique."

"I know quality when I see it," he said reaching out, grabbing her hand, pulling her closer to bed so he could examine her rings closer. "The man who put these rings on your finger loves you very much."

"Yes he did," she said snatching her hand away, backing away from him, toward the door. "I really need to go. I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Evans."

Sam chided himself for crossing that line with her again. He hadn't meant anything when he took her hand, but the look of horror on her face could only mean she had taken it all wrong.

Flashing a smile, hoping to put her at ease, he waved slightly. The last thing he wanted was for her to start acting strangely around him. She felt like his only ally in the place. The only person he could talk to openly without reproach. Sam didn't want to lose her as his nurse. He just needed to remember to keep his hands to himself.

"Tomorrow then…Mrs…hey it just dawned on me I don't know your last name."

"I guess you don't," she said over her shoulder as she went out the door.

Sam settled back in his bed, relishing the silence in the room. The company had been great, it kept his mind occupied from more unpleasant things, but now he was ready to think. Not about his memory problems, he wasn't quite ready to tackle that, but about the other thing plaguing his mind. Quinn. He had meant to ask Mercedes to help him contact Quinn again. Now that he had his voice back he wanted to talk to Quinn for real. He needed to see she truly was all right. In his mind, they had just escaped a limo crash, their lives were on the line, Sam needed to make sure she survived without any lasting damage. Really, he just needed to hear her voice again.

When he came out of the coma, he could've sworn he heard Quinn, her voice calling his name, urging him to come to her. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks confusing the past with the present, the jumbled memories misdirecting his thoughts. Days had passed and Sam could still hear Quinn calling out to him, each time he closed his eyes. She had sounded fine on the phone, off singing someplace, she had said. But Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, that Quinn wasn't fine, that she was somewhere calling for him to help her, a place just out of his reach.