Chapter 26

The sunrise came quickly that morning, bright light heating up the room, when just a few hours before it had hardly been the middle of the night. Sam hadn't slept well, plagued by his constant thoughts about Quinn, his life, and the woman sleeping in the next bed. All night he couldn't keep his eyes from drifting over to her, as hard as he tried to fight, he still ended up looking at Mercedes. By about 1am he had given up, and rolled over on his side to comfortably watch her sleep. He stayed like that for hours, just staring at her, trying to find answers in her peaceful face.

She had rounded cheeks, and eyelashes that were long and dark, that softly fluttered like butterfly wings as she slept. Her body position never changed, hands under her head, her knees curved toward her chest. This was the woman he married. Sam just couldn't reconcile it in his head, even if she hadn't lied to him or caused the accident that stole precious time from his life, he still couldn't figure out how he had ended up with her. Sam knew how seriously he took marriage, so all his thoughts before about being forced to marry her had felt hollow, even in his own mind, he knew himself better than that. He would never use marriage as a bargaining chip for business, so he must have wanted to marry this girl. Why?

Marcel had come in early, barely 7am to help Sam start his day. Finally rid of those red pajamas, Marcel pulled out navy sweatpants and a gray ARMY t-shirt. He wondered where the man managed to find that shirt? Sam kept those types of clothing buried in the bottom of his drawer in his room. While Mercedes still dozed in her bed, Sam prepared for his day, with the help of Marcel. He was transferred from his bed to a wheelchair for the first time and after weeks of at times feeling helpless and trapped, Sam finally felt like he was making strides toward recovery. Home wouldn't be too far off. He could feel it.

His morning had been one session after another. Physical therapy and strength training first, speech therapy next, then he was ushered off to meet his occupational therapist. After getting his first taste of solid food, well almost solid, they fed him something that was supposed to be like yogurt, but tasted like thick and milky cherry cough syrup, it was finally time to visit with his father.

Marcel pushed Sam into a bright and sunny area of the hospital. It was a breezeway that connected the old wing to the new.

"I thought you might like some sun," said Marcel as he stopped in front of an unobstructed section of the window. Most of the breezeway was filled with benches and plants along the sides, making it difficult for someone in a wheelchair to enjoy the view of the grounds below.

"It's a glass enclosed hallway." Sam wasn't impressed. While it was good to be out of bed, he'd rather have been at home, looking out at the grounds of his house.

"Oui, with sun."

Sam sighed in annoyance. He really didn't want to be stuck in a wheelchair, planted in the middle of a hallway, with Marcel.

"When's my father going to get here? I need to talk to him."

"Shortly."

Sam ran his hand over his chin, frowning as he felt his thickening beard. "You could have at least helped me shave first, since you knew we had time before my father arrived."

Marcel shook his head. "No. Mrs. Evans…"

"Please don't mention Mrs. Evans to me again. I am the one you work for. You must attend to my needs. So take me back to my room and help me shave."

"Of course," said Marcel with a curt nod.

"Thank you." He folded his hands in his lap and waited for Marcel to take him back to his room.

Marcel leaned against the window, his back against the glass. "As soon as Mrs. – I mean your wife, tells me it is okay."

Sam gripped the armrests of the wheelchair in his hands, knuckles whitening under the pressure. "I just told you that you work for me. Forget about Mercedes."

"No. She will take my job."

"I promise your job is safe."

Marcel looked at Sam uncertainly."I don't think so. Let's wait for Mrs. Evans to wake up and ask first."

"I told you not to say her name!"

Sam pounded his fist against his thigh, tension filling his body. Mercedes was not even around and she still was making a mess of his life.

"Sorry." Marcel sounded anything but sorry, in fact he didn't seem interested in what Sam was saying.

"I sign your checks, what I say goes." He crossed his arms over his chest, and gave Marcel a look that proved his seriousness on the matter.

"Actually Mrs.," He stopped himself mid sentence. "The Mrs. gives me my checks."

"This is unacceptable. I am going to mention this to my father. He won't be happy about it at all Marcel."

"I won't be happy about what?" asked Dwight Evans as he approached them in the hall, his charcoal gray suit tailored perfectly to his large frame.

"Marcel is refusing to do the things that I ask of him."

Dwight nodded a quick greeting in Marcel's direction. "What did you ask?"

"I wanted him to help me shave. I can't stand this beard."

"I agree it looks terrible," said Dwight taking a seat on a nearby bench.

"You see Marcel, my father agrees. Let's take care of this."

Marcel looked from Sam to Dwight then back to Sam again. "I must wait for Mrs. -"

"Marcel!" Sam yelled interrupting him.

"Sam what the hell is the matter with you? Why are you yelling at the man? He's just following orders."

"No he's not. He's not doing what I want at all." Sam had grown accustomed to getting things done they way he wanted, when he wanted, especially from employees. Marcel's behavior would have gotten him fired if he worked at D&E Industries.

"He doesn't work for you son. Mercedes hired him."

"With my money, to take care of me." Sam frowned, somehow Mercedes had entrenched herself in every facet of his life.

"If you were so concerned about your assets you shouldn't have given her free range access to your accounts."

Sam rubbed at his chin roughly. "Obviously I was out of my mind."

"Yep you were. Crazy in love. I tried to get you to think about how much control you gave the girl. But you went ahead and shared everything with her, even gave her power of attorney."

"I did what?" Sam looked over at his father in shock. "No, no way. There must be some mistake."

"No mistake, it's all legitimate. You can speak with Burt about it later, but for now I am standing by Marcel on this. Mercedes was very particular about your care and if she hasn't authorized him to do a task, then he's not going to do it."

Sam was starting to wonder if everyone in his family had lost their minds. His father never took the side of a spouse over family. He always said he couldn't trust anyone that was only bound to him by a flimsy sheet of paper.

"That little witch! She has everyone fooled."

"Marcel, if you would please leave my son and I alone, I will call you if we need anything," said Dwight as he pulled Sam's wheelchair closer to him on the bench.

"Yes Mr. Evans," said Marcel moving away from his perch at the window. He dipped his head lower and acknowledged Sam. "Enjoy the sunshine sir."

"Yeah thanks," grumbled Sam. "Thanks for all your help dad. You made me look like an idiot in front of staff."

"You did that all on your own. You should have just accepted what he said about your wife and dealt with her about it later."

"Mercedes's been put down, so there's no dealing with her."

"Put down? Do you mean to tell me she's still under sedation?"

"Yep. Probably gave her horse tranquilizers, at least I'm hoping. I couldn't take her for another second." Maybe he should've been the one sedated. An endless night watching Mercedes sleep hadn't done much to improve his mood.

"I've heard that before," said Dwight under his breath.

"She caused my accident. I can't even begin to explain how mad I am. I lost so much because of her."

Sam couldn't understand any of what he was feeling about her. The past eight hours had brought him no answers, if anything they had only made him more confused. He was stuck swinging back and forth between loathing her and wanting her completely out of his sight, to feeling intensely drawn to her and curious about all her motives. Sleep was the answer, Sam was sure of it. Once he got a good night's rest he would stop over thinking things.

"You're alive because of her."

"She's a nurse. She's supposed to keep me alive. Doesn't change anything."

Dwight unbuttoned his jacket and relaxed back into the bench. "I see falling on your head hasn't improved things for you. Still stupid as ever."

"Nice, our first chance to talk alone and already you've started with the insults."

"I can't take your whining," Dwight growled in irritation.

"She's a menace. She needs to be in jail. Why didn't you put her there? You didn't care enough about me to go through the effort of a trial?" Sam and his father didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but Sam had hoped that at least family loyalty would prompt Dwight into seeking revenge.

"She's not in jail, because I care about you. The only person to blame for Mercedes not being punished is you."

"How am I to blame? I was in a coma." Only his father could find a way to make things his fault while he was incapacitated. Sam didn't get a break from his judgment, even while sick. Typical Dwight.

"So do you want to walk? It's too cold to go outside, but we could go around the hospital for a bit."

"Blatant subject change, what's that about?" His father wasn't one to sidestep any issue. There was definitely something going on with him.

"Do you want to move or not?"

Sam shook his head. He knew he wasn't going to get Dwight to say anything he didn't want to. "I don't think so. It might be too strenuous for you."

"You think I'm a weak old man? I'm not dead yet son."

His father didn't seem weak by any means but Sam couldn't help but notice the increased amount of gray in his father's blonde hair, and that he moved at a slightly slower pace than he had remembered.

"I know that. How's your health been by the way?"

"What's this about Sam?"

"Nothing really. I just keep thinking about the limp accident and how everything seemed perfectly fine, and then…"

Sam thought back to the limo crash, everyone scared and holding tight to loved ones. He remembered how his first thoughts were of Brittany and how he hoped he'd live to see her again. Then he remembered Santana was the person she loved, and Sam had no real place in her life anymore. He had felt so alone in that moment, aching in the wreckage of the rolled limousine. He couldn't let go of the feeling that he was going to die, somewhere in rural Ohio, totally alone. No one back home would even miss him after he had gone. His family would mourn him a bit, but no one would be devastated by his absence, no wife or kids would be anxiously waiting for news of his fate.

He had looked over at Will and the twins, huddled over Emma who was barely clinging to life, her family all around her, and Sam had been jealous. He wanted love like that, a family, people that truly cared. Then Quinn had crawled under his arm, putting herself against his chest, relying on him to make her feel better, to calm her fears, to keep her safe. She needed him. It felt like a sign, as if some higher power sent Quinn over to him to make him see that what he sought was right within reach.

"Accidents happen and lives are sometimes lost. All we can do is use the time we've been allotted to the fullest."

"Trust me I know. Here one minute, gone the next. The guy sleeping in the bunk next to you for months, one day just never comes back. I know all too well how fleeting life is."

Dwight glanced over at Sam, then returned his focus to adjusting his cuff link. "You never talk much about the Army."

"Not much to say. Saw a lot, did a lot, now I'm trying to forget it."

The experience was something he was glad he went through and never would he change his choice to serve his country, but that choice came at a cost, and it was only his to pay. It was bad enough his family had to deal with his leg injury. If there had been any way to handle it completely on his own, Sam would've done it. Sam would never burden his others with his demons, or expose them to his scars.

"Seems like you're trying to forget more than your time in the service these days."

"According to Dr. Hill, I'm doing it on purpose, although I'm not sure I believe her diagnosis. I don't trust her."

"Why not?"

"She's related to Santana for one."

"Santana Lopez?" Dwight sat up in shock.

"Yep cousins on her dad's side."

"Well we will have to find you a new doctor. She's probably up to no good just like Santana." His father grumbled something indistinguishable under his breath.

"I'm going to stick with her for now. I'm trying to scope her out first, see what's going on there." Mostly he wanted to get his hands on her little file about him.

"Fine, but be careful son, crazy tends to run in packs. She's probably just as nutty as her cousin and Quinn."

"Quinn? What does Quinn have to do with this?"

"Quinn is a wackjob and very close to Santana."

Quinn and Santana close? How the heck did that happen? "She's sick dad. Postpartum depression."

"A fancy term for out of her mind. She was mentally impaired long before she gave birth."

"I guess that answers my question. Do you still have it out for Quinn?"

"Actually I try not to waste my time thinking about her. The only good thing that slut's ever done was give birth to my grandchild."

"Don't talk about Beth's mother like that," Sam warned his dad. He was going to make sure both his parents learned quickly that trashing Quinn was off limits. Sam wouldn't let comments fly as he had in the past. He had to consider his daughter now.

"Dammit! I had hoped you'd have lost the urge to defend that girl, but no such luck, you're still whipped."

"I'm not whipped. Quinn is my friend and the mother of my child. Show her some respect in my presence and definitely around Beth. I don't want her to hear you bad mouthing her mother."

"Beth won't be around Quinn much anyway. She'll be gone a long time."

"I don't think so. I'm going to find a way to get her released." Quinn needed to be back in Lima with him and Beth. His father had better get used to the idea, because Sam was determined to make it happen as soon as possible.

Dwight smoothed out his gray suit. His movements casual, his tone unmistakably serious. "And if you do, you'll live to regret that decision."

"Quinn doesn't deserve to be kept away from her child just because she's depressed, being around Beth might actually help her." It was pointless to try to convince his dad of anything positive about Quinn, Sam could see nothing had changed with that situation in the past three years.

"The last place she needs to be is around that baby. She's done more harm to that baby…"

"What are you talking about?" asked Sam cutting Dwight off. "Quinn would never hurt Beth. Mercedes said the same thing yesterday. Are ya'll in cahoots or something?"

"We both can see Quinn for who she really is, unlike you, who is still blinded by certain parts of her anatomy."

Sam ignored the remark. "I want you to explain to me why Mercedes is out free and Quinn is locked away. Seems like things got twisted."

"No your brain is twisted. Everything is as it should be, justice has been served."

"Justice won't be served until Mercedes pays for her crimes and Quinn is free. Since it seems you won't take care of it. I will. I want you to call the police."

"Sam you don't know all the facts."

"Oh but I do, Mercedes put me in a coma. Call the Lima PD now."

"Fine. I'll call Will. He's commissioner." Dwight pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Sam nodded his head in agreement. "I think calling Will is a great idea."

"I'm not getting any reception in here," he said holding up the phone, trying to find a signal. "I'm just going to step into the old wing and see if I can place the call. Will you be okay alone for a few minutes?"

"It's not like I'm going to be popping wheelies in this thing. I'm sitting in a chair. I'll be fine."

"Okay. Be right back."

Sam stared out the glass wall of the breezeway at the gardens below. Even in the heart of winter, the garden was rich with plant life. The hospital probably paid landscapers to keep hearty plants on display all year round. The sun was bright and through the glass it was warm, felt almost like April, instead of February. It was February 14, 2014. Sam couldn't believe how much time had passed. It seemed like just the other night he was huddled under that blanket with Quinn, celebrating Valentine's Day in each others arms.

She wasn't his Valentine then, not officially, she was still with Puck, but as that night wore on she inched her way back into his heart. Not that she had ever fully left, but that night Quinn came out of the shadows of his heart and stepped into the forefront again. With the softness of her skin, the sweet scent of her hair, those kissable lips and those mesmerizing green eyes, Sam had felt himself falling in love with her all over again. Could've been his mind just enchanted by her beauty, or his hormones going wild because she was naked in his arms, but Sam knew neither of those things was true. His heart knew what his head couldn't yet admit. Quinn Fabray was still the woman he wanted, still the woman he loved.

She was above him, her blonde hair covering his face like a curtain. He wanted to smooth her hair back, so he could see her beautiful face fully, but his hands couldn't seem to find their way back from their spot on each of her breasts.

"Sam, maybe we should slow things down here. We might be getting carried away." She rubbed his lower lip with her index finger, tracing its curve. She laughed as Sam playfully sucked her finger into his mouth, giving it a quick nibble.

"I thought that was the point. To get lost in each other, so we could forget our fears." He strained up to kiss her again, his head lifting from the makeshift pillow of rolled up clothes.

She fell into him, her hands caressing the sides of his face, as the kiss deepened. Closing the gap between their bodies, Quinn pressed him down on his back, moaning softly as she kissed him harder, intense and forceful as if she couldn't get enough of his mouth.

Suddenly she rolled off of him, breathing hard. "Yeah, but now this is scaring me worse than the crash."

He took a deep breath and stared up at the sky, the faint glow of stars was visible through the clouds. "Maybe you're right. We wouldn't want to do something we both regretted."

"Right." She rolled onto her back beside him. "I am still a taken woman after all."

"And I wouldn't want Puck to kill me for sleeping with his girlfriend, although since I'm probably going to die anyway, I'm finding it hard to care." Sam looked over at her feeling her absence acutely. He didn't want to break that contact. With just a fingertip he stroked the underside of her breast, silently hoping she wouldn't move away.

"Puck wouldn't kill you," she said. Sam smiled slightly when she didn't move his hand.

"I think he would have a hard time handling the fact we slept together."

"I doubt he would care." Quinn sighed. "Puck's not really interested in what I do anymore."

"What's that mean?" Sam turned on his side to face her, his finger now journeying lower to trace the soft curve of her stomach.

"We just have very separate lives. I mean he even took off and left without telling me. Just proves how high I rate in his life."

"Quinn what's really going on with him?" Sam asked as he pulled her onto his chest, and then pulled the blanket up over the both of them

"It's…It's nothing. I mean we are having problems but you shouldn't be concerned."

"You're not acting like it's nothing, and the police were involved." He could feel her breathing hitch and he knew he had hit a sensitive subject.

"That's life being with someone in the Evans family, always an adventure." She ran her hand over his chest as she spoke. "I bet if we had been the ones that ended up together it would have been the same way. You Evans boys are nothing but drama." She chuckled lightly then shifted off of him, choosing to lie on her side facing him.

"I don't think things would have been the same if we were a couple." Sam rolled over too, mirroring her position. "First difference would be I would always care about what was going on in your life. I wouldn't have left you alone in a stranger city and I definitely wouldn't have wanted to break up."

"You're just saying that because we never actually got together as adults. Look at you and Brittany…drama galore and now divorced."

He bowed his head, suddenly feeling unable to look into her eyes. "Brittany's not you. I know if I ever was lucky enough to be with you again, I'd never let you go."

"That's so sweet." She smiled. "But a complete crock. Things happen in relationships, bad, ugly things, even when you start out with the best intentions."

"I know but I wouldn't let that happen to us." He touched a strand of her hair, coiling the light strands around his finger. "I feel like I've learned a lot since we were together, and when I was with Brittany. I know what's important now and I know how love is special and precious and needs to be treated with care so it will last."

"That's a beautiful thought, truly. You're going to make some woman so happy one day."

"For a long time now I felt like love wouldn't be in the picture for me again." He shook his head sadly, as he dropped his hand from her hair. "I have too much baggage, too much anger, and of course my leg. No woman wants to deal with all that."

"That's not true. Anyone would be lucky to have you." She stroked his face, and smiled, her green eyes shining even in the low light. "You're such a good man, sweet, loving, loyal."

"You forgot breathtakingly handsome," he said with mock seriousness.

"I wasn't done. You're smart, attentive, breathtakingly handsome," she laughed.

"Thank you. It's nice to know one woman in the world appreciates me." He caught her hand that had drifted from his face to his shoulder, threading his fingers with hers.

"I'm sure there's more than one. Women are always approaching you."

"They are only after my money and my family name. I want someone that wants me for me. A real love like Will and Emma have. I want that too."

"You'll find it Sam. I've got to believe you will, because maybe if you do, there will be hope for me too. After all this is done with Puck, maybe one day I can get some real love again."

He could hear the emotion in her voice, and knew tears were in her eyes, even though he could not see them. Pulling her into a hug, he stroked the length of her bare back, as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"You will. All you have to do is reach for it," he said against her ear. Quinn shivered in his arms, and he instinctively held her closer fearing she might be cold.

"It's that easy huh? Just close my eyes and wish?" she asked pushing back from him, her hand trailing down his bare chest, until she placed it under head like a pillow.

"Or open your eyes and see what's staring you in the face." Their eyes locked, and the night grew quiet, even the sounds of the wilderness seemed to be on mute as he lost himself in her gaze.

"I just might take your suggestion and try that Sam, but if I only see a man in green plaid suit and a porn star mustache, I'm blaming you," she joked looking down.

"What if I promise that won't happen?" he asked lifting her chin to get her to look at him once more.

She smiled sheepishly. "Fortune teller now?"

"Something like that." He grinned. "If, no when, we get out of this mess, and get back to Lima, I'm going to show you real love exists. All you have to do is promise me that you'll grab it when you see it."

Quinn eyed him skeptically, before responding. "You've got a deal. I'll let you be my love guru and let you show me the way."

"Good."

"Now I've got a proposition for you," she said rubbing his upper arm.

"Proposition. I love that word!"

"Get your mind out the gutter." She chuckled. "I'm talking about love here."

"What about it?" he asked his voice cracking a little as he felt her hand move lower on his body beneath the blanket.

"I will let you be my love guru when we get back to Lima but in exchange you have to let me show you that all this damage you think you have, that you think makes you unattractive to women, is all in your head. I'm going to show you that someone will want you and love you, just the way you are."

"Okay," he smiled. "I have to tell you though, you're in for a hell of a challenge. No woman has ever wanted me just the way I was, even before I hurt my leg. So good luck with that," he added laughing lightly.

"I don't need luck. I already know someone that feels that way." Sam looked up at her and all the air went out of his lungs. She was giving him a look, he hadn't seen in years. It took him back to those summer nights under the stars when they were teens.

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. "Really? Do tell."

"You'll have to wait until we get to Lima," she teased, as she slowly stroked his hip.

Sam put his hands on both sides of her face, pulling her nearer, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Just a little hint," he said as he pulled away. Quinn slowly opened her eyes recovering from the kiss.

"I think I might need more persuading than that."

Sam smirked. "Get over here," he said as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. "Time for me to make my case."

"Excuse me. Sam Evans?"

Sam roused himself from his memories and focused on the dark haired man in front of him.

"Yes, I'm Sam." The man looked to be about his age, in a suit, well put together.

"Hi," he said extending his hand. Sam shook it briefly. "I'm Artie Abrams. We need to talk."

"About what?" Sam eyed Artie suspiciously.

"About Quinn Fabray," he said taking a seat on the bench his father had occupied earlier.

"What about her?" Sam's heart pounded in his chest, a feeling of dread overtaking him.

"She's in trouble, and you just might be the only one that can help her."