Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate all of your support.

To Jess - Mercedes does have lowered self esteem in this story because of her childhood, and she is very guilty about Sam's accident since she was the one driving. As far as her begging for Sam's love...I think it is more that she's trying to hold on to the hope that he'll remember her and they will get that second chance she's been dreaming of all these months he's been in a coma. He's only been awake now for a couple weeks, far too soon for her to throw in the towel after waiting so long. Now down the line who knows...

Chapter 16

Not too long after Mercedes left, Marcel came in carrying a large navy duffel bag and what could have been a smile on his face. Sam wasn't sure about the smile however, the man had a perpetual blank look that made him hard to read.

"Are you ready Mr. Evans?" asked Marcel as he started removing items from the bag and setting them on the bedside table.

"Ready for what?" asked Sam eying the items Marcel was lining up in front of him.

"For the bath, to fix yourself up, for your appointment."

"I'm not getting spruced up for a doctor."

Sam actually wasn't opposed to getting spruced up at all. He was feeling rather scruffy and just knowing his hair was standing on end was driving him insane. But he was hoping that someone other than Marcel would help him do it, someone cuter and decidedly more feminine.

"But Mrs. Evans says you like to look nice. Very GQ."

"I haven't seen my mom all day. Did she tell you that last night?"

"I have not talked to your mother." He held up a pair of pajamas from the oak drawer. "We like the red silk yes?"

"No we don't like those. Can't I wear something else? Maybe a t-shirt."

The pajamas were nice, all of them were, and a few were even his favorites. Sam liked fine silk pajamas, but there was also a side of him that liked to kick back in a t-shirt and some sweats. He felt more comfortable and free in more casual clothes.

"Non. You like the red," decided Marcel as he closed the drawer and brought the pajamas over to the bed.

"Different color then? Green maybe."

Marcel gave his version of a smile. "Mrs. Evans always likes the green too. She says it brings out your eyes."

"Okay," he said slowly. "Let's do green for mom."

"Non. We like the red."

"We like the green," Sam insisted.

"All the green is dirty. Red." Marcel began unbuttoning Sam's pajama top as Sam tried to move away. "Sit up straight so I can help."

"I can take off my shirt by myself," said Sam swatting Marcel away. "I don't need help."

"Non. I must help," said Marcel as he continued to help Sam undress.

Thirty minutes and a few tugs of war later, Sam was in fresh red pajamas. Sam had to admit he was impressed. Marcel hadn't let any of Sam's growled complaints and threats of termination deter him from his task. He tended to all of Sam's needs as if Sam were sitting there cooperatively. Once Sam realized his protestations were getting him nowhere, he relaxed. Marcel had a nice touch, firm without feeling forceful. He even had given Sam a massage. That was worth enduring all the rest. Marcel's hands were gold. He had talent.

"Hold the mirror comme ca, so you can watch," said Marcel tilting the large wooden handled mirror in Sam's hand so he could see himself better. His vision has been better last night, but now things were starting to fuzz up again. He must be getting tired.

Sam ducked as Marcel approached his head. "I don't like people messing up my hair."

"It is already a mess," stated Marcel pulling Sam back up. "Like cats fighting on your head."

"Someone gave me a bad haircut," Sam said sulking. He couldn't help but wonder how long he had looked like this.

"We must not speak of it," warned Marcel. "Hurts Mrs. Evans' feelings."

"My mother did this?" asked Sam as Marcel tugged at his hair with a brush and a spritz bottle of water.

He shook his head. "Non Mrs. Evans, but I will fix it." Marcel squirted some cream from a dark grey bottle into his hand.

Sam jumped when the cold cream hit his scalp. "Wait what are you putting on my hair?" he asked twisting away. "Stop that," he said pushing Marcel's hands away from his hair. "Oh…that's good."

Sam checked himself out in the mirror. His hair had been transformed. The haphazard cropped spikes were now tamed into a pretty nice looking hairstyle.

"Yes I know."

Sam reached for the bottle. "What's this stuff?"

"Pomade from France. Works miracles." Marcel began to clean up his supplies, placing them back into the duffel bag.

He handed Marcel back the bottle. "Yes it does. Can I keep that?"

"It's yours, Mr. Evans."

"Thank you." Sam smiled. "Do you think you can help me shave?" He ran his hand along his chin.

"Non."

Sam was really tired of Marcel telling him 'non'. That was one word he just was not used to hearing too much, especially not from someone he was paying.

"Why no? There's too much hair on my face. I don't like it."

"I know but Mrs. Evans will take care of it," stated Marcel taking the mirror from Sam.

"My mother is not here and I don't need her shaving me. I'm a grown man."

"Mrs. Evans is very strict with the rules. I wrote them down." He pulled a folded up white square of paper from the chest pocket of his scrubs.

"Let me see that." Sam took the paper and unfolded it. It was a typed list in pretty fine print. Sam squinted as he read it to himself.

1) Never leave Mr. Evans unattended. He must have continuous stimulation and attention.

2) Bihourly physical therapy must be conducted, no exceptions. He must be shifted positions and his muscles exercised.

3) All pajamas must be natural fibers, preferably silk. Please make sure they are placed on him properly. No mismatched buttons or overhanging sleeves.

4) Mr. Evans must be clean shaven, no more than one day's growth is acceptable. Grooming will be handled by Mercedes unless instructed otherwise.

5) The television or music must be played at all times. Check the list by the TV for his favorites.

The list went on, fifteen more items in total. His mom meant business. He handed the paper back to Marcel.

"I think we can make an exception this time on the shaving." Sam could deal with his mother. Things were different now anyway, he was awake.

"Non. Mrs. Evans would not like that. You talk to her first and let me know."

While it was really nice to know that his mom had taken such good care of him, it was starting to get very frustrating having to live by the rules she created. Sam figured his mother must also be behind the slow pace in which he was being told about the years he had forgotten. Now that he was out of the coma, it only made sense that he would be able to start calling the shots in his own life. He'd have to talk to his mother and set her straight.

"I realize my mom can be a little scary, but I promise I will let her know I said it was okay." He tried to bargain with the man, if he had any cash he would have resorted to bribery. The beard had to go.

Maybe he could get Mercedes to help him. She had mentioned something about rituals. His mother must have allowed Mercedes to do some things for him. The idea of her shaving him or doing too much of any nursing duties was starting to seem strange to him now. They had turned a corner in their relationship and he was starting to not want her to see him so weak. They had just met each other and it already felt like they crossed the line into maybe being too close. He had known Quinn for years and she had never seen some of the things that Mercedes already had. Sam was starting to wonder if pursuing a relationship with Mercedes outside of the hospital was a good thing. It would probably just get too awkward, like they knew too much about each other, and there would be no where left to go.

"Your mother is a pussycat," said Marcel.

"I think you've got her confused with someone else." That was the last way he'd describe his mother, unless the pussycat was a tigress.

Marcel pursed his lips. "With the blonde hair, very fashionable, bossy?"

"That would be her."

"Pussycat," he said again. "She only wants what's best for you. Mrs. Evans, une petite virago. She looks so sweet, but she does not tolerate mistakes. She and your father very terrifying."

Sam was confused, maybe Marcel was mixing up his words, English clearly wasn't his first language.

"But you just said she was a pussycat."

"Your mother is, yes," he said putting the duffel back over his shoulder.

If he wasn't talking about his mom, then who was Mrs. Evans?

Before Sam could ask Marcel that question the door flew open and a young woman with brown skin, long black hair, and a fitted purple suit rushed in.

"Let's just cut to the chase. My name is Dr. Kalina Hill and I'm…"

"A shrink," said Sam finishing her sentence. She never offered him her hand, she just took a seat on the empty bed across from Sam.

"Psychiatrist is what I prefer, but yes." She crossed her legs at the knee, causing her skirt to rise. "How did you know?"

"Doctors come in, stand around looking important clinging to their clipboards. Shrinks come in, sit down like you just did and pretend to be all human and engaging." Sam noticed Marcel quietly exit the room.

"Interesting observation," she said pulling out a pad and paper. The paper was pink and her pen was sparkly, like with glitter.

"I am very aware of my surroundings," said Sam sizing her up.

She looked fairly young, about his age. Nice body, he could tell she worked out. Her hair was really shiny and not a strand out of place. She had almond shaped eyes that were a deep brown, framed by dark lashes. Dr. Hill shifted on the bed and her skirt rose again revealing more of her skin. Sam had to admit she was pretty hot. If he was forced to sit in therapy, at least he would have something good to look at.

"Does that come from your military training?" she asked.

He nodded. "Indeed it does. Also very helpful in business."

"That's right you used to be co-CEO of D&E Industries." She pulled a file folder out of her bag.

"V.P. actually," he corrected her.

"No says right here, co-CEO of D&E with Noah Puckerman until you stepped down in February 2013."

"Dad actually made me CEO? And I quit?" He couldn't believe his father had finally handed the reins over to him. He never thought the old man would walk away.

"Don't know all of the details. You'll have to ask your father."

"I'll do that because leaving D&E doesn't make sense. D&E is my birthright." Maybe his father had fired him and Sam just said he quit to save face. No other explanation fit.

"Being in the family business is important to you?"

"I wouldn't call it the family business. D&E is a media empire." Diversified and successful, built from the ground up by his father. D&E was what he was raised to do, to continue his father's legacy.

"I'm well aware. Everyone in this town knows the Evans name."

"Are you from Lima? You don't look familiar." He was pretty sure he'd remember someone that looked like her.

"I'm from St. Paul actually, but I have Lima ties."

"Family here?" Again he tried to place her, but couldn't. Lima was such a small place, Sam pretty much knew everybody.

She put down her file and pad and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Full disclosure time especially since I have personal knowledge of someone in your family."

"Don't tell me you dated one of my brothers."

Just his luck, his shrink was some jilted lover that Mike or Will left behind. She probably was trying to get her revenge by messing up his head even more. This was Lima after all, everyone had an agenda.

"I'm actually related to someone who I guess technically is close to you."

"Not one of my stepmothers? Which one?" he asked dreading her response. He tried to remember all of his father's wives. Only the crazy ones stuck out, which was basically all of them.

"Santana Lopez is my cousin."

What the fuck! He never saw that coming.

"Santana? Oh hell no. I want a new doctor," he demanded sitting up in the bed. If he could walk he would have escorted her to the door.

She didn't even flinch. She actually relaxed more into her seat on the bed, folding her hands together on her lap.

"That certainly is your prerogative but before you make that decision can you hear me out?"

She definitely had guts. Coming in here related to Santana and expecting to keep her job with him. He'd give her one point and a chance to explain before he kicked her out. It's not like he had anything better to do, and her attempt at rationalizing all this could be at the very least be entertaining.

Sam settled back into his pillows, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go ahead."

"Santana's father, Luis Lopez is my mom's brother."

Damn not even a distant cousin. The crazy was close.

"Telling me that is not swaying me in your favor. Santana Lopez is psychotic."

"My mom, Lina Lopez, left Lima Heights Adjacent, went to college in Minnesota, where she met and married my dad, Kalvin Hill, CPA."

"Did you know Santana growing up?"

"I did. I spent a few summers in Lima with our abuela Alma as a kid. We lost touch over the years. Seems she had a hard life."

"We all faced difficulties growing up. That doesn't excuse Santana's behavior. She slept with my wife and helped end my marriage." And she sent her personal lap dog Dave Karofsky to rough him up and warn him not to fight for Brittany.

"Santana and I have reconnected since I moved to Lima. She's made some poor choices but she's not a bad person."

"She's back in Lima?" Now that's a twist. Sam didn't think she'd show her face back in town after she ran off with Brittany.

"She's been back for years. She's part of the reason I chose to set up my practice in Lima, nice to be around family." This woman is talking about Santana like she's some normal relative. Did she even know that Santana was major trouble?

"You've got a soft spot for attempted murderers?" he asked feeling like he should be warning her of the dangers of Santana. What Dave had done to him felt like a hit. Sam might have come out of it with only bruises a few broken ribs, but the attack had been brutal. What kind of person resorts to violence to resolve a love triangle?

"I just try to look at the whole person before judging. You've made some questionable choices along the way but I'm not holding them against you." She shot him a knowing look.

So she knows how he retaliated against Dave in the Brittany situation. Sam knew he had no room to throw stones, but he had pulled himself back from that dark place and tried to change for the better. He really didn't think that he should be lumped in the same category as Santana. He never tried to kill anyone outside of combat. Okay seriously maim, but Dave had it coming, but kill? Not something he'd do.

"Since your family is full of wack jobs, you decided to go into psychiatry to help them?"

"From the looks of your file, you should think about joining the profession. Seems like wack jobs fill your life as well." Well played. He really couldn't judge at all. His family was beyond messed up.

"Why don't you just hand that file over to me and you can go. I will fill myself in."

Seemed like that little file was the key to all he'd missed. He needed to get his hands on it and get caught up. He hated that some doctor, with a psycho cousin, knew more about his life than he did.

"Oh so you think a laundry list of the last three years is all you'll need to get up to speed?"

"If I have any questions, I'll ask."

"Do you really think you can handle that? I heard you had a bit of an issue with finding out how long you were comatose." Here we go. He had one bad reaction and he couldn't live it down. He was shocked, he overreacted. Let it go.

"I don't like feeling like people are lying to me." Or coddling me, or judging me, or knowing more than me. Basically Sam needed to be in control. He was a bit anal, he could admit that.

"So you act like a child when you're lied to?" She looked in her file. "That is what I have in my notes...spoiled brat."

"Who said that?" he asked the anger rising.

"Does it matter? From what I am observing currently from you, I think it was pretty accurate."

He was on to her, she was trying to get a rise out of him. It was psychology crap to get him to reveal himself. Sam wasn't falling for it.

"Where's my nurse?" he asked changing the subject. "She should've been back by now."

She had said she'd be here with him. Mercedes was pretty much always around so for her to be absent now was odd. Sam hoped she was okay and not passed out somewhere.

"Are you experiencing pain?" asked Kalina reaching for the call button.

Sam shook his head. "I just want her here."

It sounded stupid now that he said it out loud. There was no real reason he needed a nurse he barely knew, with him during this.

"Now that's interesting," she said jotting something in her pad.

"What's so interesting about that?" asked Sam getting defensive. "She's been taking care of me."

He knew he'd have to explain his closeness to his nurse at some point, but now that the point had arrived he didn't much feel like doing it. So he liked his nurse, not a big deal.

"But you just said you were fine and not in pain. Why do you need to be taken care of?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at her. "Is this what doctors are being taught in medical school these days? How to harass and be rude to patients?" It was like she was just plain nosy. His relationship with Mercedes had no bearing on why they were meeting. Seemed to him she just wanted some gossip.

"I only asked you about why you need Mercedes. How is that harassing you?"

"All the questions are harassing me. You are supposed to be filling me in on my past not playing twenty questions." She was coming off more like a reporter than a doctor. How did she even know about his involvement with Mercedes? Wait did she even say anything about a relationship between him and Mercedes? Maybe he was overreacting.

"Ready to jump right in?" she asked rubbing her hands together.

"Been ready. You're the one stalling."

"I was hoping we could get to know each other better first," she said leaning forward her hands now on her knees.

"Sorry, I'm not in the market for a girlfriend. Let's just do the deed and go our separate ways."

"Interesting that you took my comment in a sexual slant. Do you make innuendos like that to all your doctors?"

"It's just my Evans charm."

"And women fall for that?" she asked looking more surprised than Sam liked.

"I haven't had any complaints."

"That you can recall," she added.

"Mocking the condition of the patient now. Someone needs to write you up."

"You seem awfully concerned about medical ethics."

He shrugged. "I've been a patient for a long time now, sort of a pressing matter of my life currently. Have to make sure all the standards of my care are on the up and up."

"And sleeping with your nurse..."

She did not go there! Totally related to Santana. He could see the resemblance now.

"Hold on there lady! I'm not sleeping with anyone."

"This bed I'm sitting on is for Mercedes right?"

"She is just keeping me company while she is a patient here."

"When does she arrive?"

Sam tried to sound as nonchalant as he could. "She's been here all night. She just had to go do something."

"This bed doesn't look slept in," she noted smoothing the sheets with her hands.

"What's your point?" he asked annoyed they were still on the topic.

"If she has been with you all night, where did she sleep?" She raised a knowing eyebrow at him. Sam could tell she had already figured it all out for herself.

"I hate when shrinks pull that crap. Ask a question they already know the answer to. Just say what you want to say."

She smirked. "I want to hear you admit it."

"I don't think what my nurse and I do is any of your business."

"Well in the name of medical ethics..."

"Maybe I need to ask to see your ID, you don't act like any therapist I've ever met."

"Been in therapy a lot? It wouldn't surprise me given your mom's reputation, your notoriously hard ass father, and your injuries from the Army."

"They made me do some when I hurt my leg." Mandatory, almost like a debriefing. They threw him in a room with a psychologist for a few hours and then shipped him home.

"Was it helpful?"

"My leg's still fucked up, so I would say it was a fail." Some parting gift for serving his country. It was like 'thanks for sacrificing life and limb, but you're useless to us now, so see ya.'

"Did it make you feel better?"

Right as if dwelling on problems ever made anyone feel better. The best thing to do was suck it up and move on.

"I don't see how whining to a total stranger about your problems would help anyone. I'm pretty convinced psychology is a complete scam."

He shared quite a bit with Brittany about his time in Afghanistan. Not everything, some things there was just no voicing, but he did try to confide in her. It didn't help. He never felt any better and he was pretty sure it just ended up driving her away quicker. No woman wants to be with a man bogged down by inner demons and haunting memories.

Dr. Hill started writing in her pad again. "Fearful of sharing emotions."

"You do realize you said that out loud as you wrote it."

"I know. I wanted you to hear."

"Let's just get a move on. Mercedes should be back soon."

"Do you want to wait for her? Maybe you'd like her to hear what I'm about to say."

"It doesn't matter. I will probably end up telling her anyway."

"You talk to her a lot?"

"She's the one that's usually here. Either her or the walls."

"I know your family comes to see you quite often. You could talk to them."

Sam laughed. "I think that file should give you a hint why talking to them is not high on my list."

"You're not close to your family?"

"I am. Doesn't mean I'm big on sharing with them." Talking to his parents only led to being mocked and judged. Sam could do without either of those two for the time being.

"Don't share with psychiatrists, don't share with your family, but you can talk to your nurse."

"Seems like."

Sure Mercedes talked a lot, constantly if he let her, but she also was a good listener. She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. And nothing ever seemed to shock her or sway her. The way she looked at him never changed. Sam liked that, made him feel free to say anything.

"I see."

Sam turned on his side to face her. "I can't wait to hear your comment on that morsel."

"I don't have one. You can talk to your nurse. Mercedes is nice. It's understandable."

"Nice might be an understatement. She has done so much for me. She's been here day in and day out for months."

"That is what nurses do," she said unfazed.

"That's bull and you know it. She is doing more than just her job." A whole lot more. He smiled as he remembered their night together. Mercedes had been there for him in every way he needed.

"Do you think there's more to her actions? Like she has some other reason for being so attentive to you?"

Yes he did. One big reason, but he wasn't about to share that with this woman so she could tear it to shreds.

"I think she must, because she has a baby she should be focusing on, yet she still finds time to be here for me. Not to mention that worthless piece of shit husband."

"Have you met him? Her husband that is?"

"No, but I have a pretty good idea what he must be like. He left her all alone to take care of their daughter."

Mercedes was working herself sick and where was he? Off probably pursuing selfish endeavors, most likely cheating on her with another woman. She was too young to handle all of this on her own. No wonder she had to lose herself in a fantasy of a man in a coma.

"Maybe he had no choice."

"There's always a choice. No real man would walk away from his family. It's just pure cowardice."

Complete bullshit. A real man faced his problems head on. That was how Sam had been raised to think. It's not always easy but a man just had to step up and take care of business. If he ever had a family again, no way in hell would he just let them go and walk away. The mother of his child would be given all the respect and support she deserved. She would know how much he appreciated the precious gift she had given him.

All of this was hypothetical of course. Sam was pretty sure he would never get the chance to have a child. He wasn't being pessimistic, just trying to stay real about where his life choices would take him. It would be hard to find time for a family and pursue his plans to run D&E. His father had always made it clear that family and business were a hard mix. Even if he did manage to perfect that juggling act, things weren't looking great for him in the love department these days. Already he was mixed up in two fantasy almost relationships. One with a nurse he didn't really know, but was drawn to and another with a version of Quinn that probably no longer existed, a Quinn from three years prior.

"I read in your file that you and your ex-wife Brittany started fertility treatment but then stopped."

"That just wasn't meant to be. Brittany decided she didn't want kids, well not human ones. Which is totally fine in hindsight. I didn't need to be procreating anyway."

"You don't think you're father material?"

She needed some sensitivity training. Dr. Hill kept bringing up all this painful stuff like nothing. What happened to tact? He was recovering from a coma, did she really think he wanted to talk about the children he'd probably never have?

"At the time, I was not in the right place in my life or state of mind to give a child the kind of life he or she deserved. My time in the Army messed me up for a bit."

Sam didn't know why people assumed that because he had money he should be a father. All the money in the world can't replace a good home life. Sam had been raised never wanting for anything, except a stable family. His parents had broken up and made up more times than he could count and each time he was caught in the middle, their little pawn. Sam never wanted any child to go through that especially not his own. After he was discharged he had been having night terrors, fits of rage, and probably clinical depression. That was no way to be around a baby. He was too messed up to be a father to anyone.

"So you and Brittany decided to wait to start a family? Must have of been a hard decision."

"Actually it wasn't that hard since Brittany wanted to raise cats not babies. Ask anyone around here and they will tell you I was a selfish bastard that didn't want my wife to have a baby, but the truth was she didn't want one. At least she didn't want one with me. I bet if Santana asked her to, she'd pop out a kid though," he admitted bitterly.

"Think you ever want to have children one day with someone else?"

"I always wanted to have a big family. I always pictured myself with a house full of kids."

Now he realized his desperate need to hold onto Brittany and keep her away from Santana, was not only about trying to recover the marriage he lost while he was in Afghanistan, but also about holding onto the hope that the love of one person could help bring him back from the edge, to maybe save him. In the end, he had lost Brittany, lost his dreams for a family, even lost part of himself. He had no real hope for a happy future until that night in the cold under a blanket. Until Quinn.

"That's nice. Fatherhood is a very rewarding experience, from what I'm told."

"Do you have any children?"

"Not yet," she smiled flashing her perfectly straight teeth. "Have to find the right man first."

"If you loosen up a bit, I'm sure you'll have no problems there." She seemed the type to have men falling all over her and never even notice.

"How do you know I'm not loose already? I could be hanging out at bars throwing back scotch neats when I'm off duty."

"Your blouse is done up all the way to the top button and your skirt covers your knees. I don't see you bar hopping," he said letting his eyes drift over her body.

"Looks can be deceiving. To look at you I wouldn't think husband and father right off."

"That would be because I'm neither of those."

"But you are."

"Let me see that file. Did Brittany put down me as the father of her freaking cat?"

"I'm not talking about a cat. I am talking about the baby you have with Quinn."

Just when he was starting to think the crazy skipped Dr. Hill, she comes up with this. Unbelievable.

"Quinn and I have never even slept together, let alone had a child. Did you even do your research before coming in here?"

If sex with Quinn was what he missed the past three years then he needed hypnotherapy, shock treatments, a time machine. No way could he have finally been with beautiful Quinn and forgotten about it.

"I am well versed in your life Sam Evans. I know that you have a four month old daughter with Quinn Fabray."

"You've got to be shitting me. Are you for real?" She was serious. He could see it in her eyes, and for a moment it felt like his heart had stopped.

"For real. You've even met her already. Beth."

An image of the baby flashed in his mind. Big green eyes, blond hair, sort of chubby, she was such a happy little girl. She smiled so much the day he met her. She even had a little dimple in her chin just like his own. Sam sat up straight in the bed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he faced Dr. Hill.

"Beth? Mercedes' little girl?"

Rushing back, flashing images in his head, he was seventeen staring into her eyes on her parents' front porch. He had dreamed of this. A family with her, babies, a home, the whole works. It had been all he wanted for years. He clung to it, long after it had reached the point of impossibility.

"She's not Mercedes'. She's yours."

Now, while he was sleeping, like some miracle, it had all come true. He had a daughter. A daughter with Quinn.