Chapter 31

Two miles down the road, one traffic light and two turns, she could make it. She could just grab her keys from the hook above the desk and go. Her custom painted teal blue Lexus RX was just out front waiting to be driven. Mercedes hadn't got in her car in months. Almost seven months if she were counting, not since Quinn went into labor on the side of the road and Mercedes had to drive to get to her. Driving just didn't hold the same appeal anymore, she got tense just thinking about it. Mercedes looked down at the empty ice cream container on the table. That was her last pint she just polished off. She needed to get to the store to replenish her stash.

Maybe the bus, it was too cold to even consider walking, but if she timed it right the bus could get her to the store and back in under two hours. Mercedes groaned. Two hours was far too long to be out of the house. The longer she was outside the greater the risk of being seen, by nosy reporters, by a co-worker, by Sam. Although, it was highly doubtful Sam would be out just leisurely shopping at the grocery store, he hadn't even done that much when he was healthy before the accident. There was even less chance now that he was in the midst of hardcore therapy, but Mercedes' luck tended to run on the poor side and she didn't want to risk that today of all days Sam decided to stop into the supermarket on the way home from a grueling physical therapy session to pick up some Gatorade.

Okay she was being dumb. Sam was not out. She should just jump in the car and go. That's what she was going to do. Mercedes stared over at the keys on the rack, still unmoving from her chair. Maybe she could try those cookies again. Ice cream was the only food she had been able to keep down, everything else had felt like lead in her stomach, but maybe things would be better this go round. She could just pad her sorrows with Beiste's homemade chocolate chip cookies, just as good as ice cream. Mercedes got up and went over the counter and uncovered the glass cake dish that displayed the cookies Beiste had made that morning, taking one from the top, Mercedes took a tentative bite, cinnamon and chocolate filled her mouth, sweet and hearty goodness. She swallowed the bite and immediately her stomach churned. She ran to the sink splashing water on her face, to prevent any nausea from taking hold. The last thing she wanted to do was end up spending her night throwing up in the bathroom, again.

Two weeks ago when she was released from the hospital, so early that Sam had still been asleep in the next bed, Mercedes had called herself a cab to take her home. Beiste had arrived a few hours later, alarmed that Mercedes had not been at the hospital when she had come to pick her up, only to find Mercedes sprawled out on the bathroom floor staring at the ceiling. Beiste had feared she had passed out, but that wasn't the case at all, passing out would have been a welcome occurrence for her. Instead she had just plopped down on the floor exhausted from purging her system and unmotivated to go any further. What would have been the point to move anyway? Beth was still with her grandpa Dwight and Beiste. Sam didn't give a shit about her. She was alone in an empty house with nothing better to do but wallow in her misery.

"You have a family. You can't just hide out," Beiste had scolded as she helped her up off the floor and into the bed. Beiste had filled her with cups of herbal tea, watching her every move, until Mercedes couldn't take anymore of her loving attention, and faked sleep. Beiste seemed satisfied and left after that. If Mercedes had known all it would take was a nap to get Beiste to go, she would have pretended to fall asleep sooner.

Once alone in the room, Mercedes had gotten out of bed, sleep was not an option, hadn't been for months, and went into her large walk-in closet filled with her belongings. One half for her, the other was his, the physical reminders that a couple once lived here, that two people shared a life, coexisted and connected. It was like a shrine to a fabled love, a relationship that couldn't be proven in physical terms, it all had been forgotten, except for what was left in her own hazy mind. Did a life exist if only one person remembered living it?

His clothes still smelled like him, fading now, just a hint, unlike the bold fragrance of his aftershave and something that was uniquely Sam that had lingered right after the crash. Apparently smells had an expiration date, and Sam's was close upon her. She pulled one of his shirts off the hanger, pale blue, white buttons, high thread count. He would have worn this to the office, probably under his navy pinstripe suit, or on the weekend with the sleeves rolled up with his khakis. He liked this shirt, as proven by its super softness of repeated washings. She could still smell him in the shirt, she inhaled deeply as she pulled it on over her tank top, wrapping her arms about herself, imagining that he were giving her a gentle hug.

She never thought she would still be doing this, finding comfort in his clothing, not now, not after he was back from his coma. Yet there she had been feeling more alone than she ever had the previous nine months, because then she had the hope of his recovery, she could look forward to their joyous reunion when he came back to her. Their reunion turned out to be far from joyous, and she didn't have anything else to hope for, he was better, he was getting healthy, he just wasn't coming back, not to her at least.

Later, Mercedes had padded down the hallway barefoot, in Sam's shirt over her white ribbed tank top and red knit shorts. She had pushed open the door to Beth's nursery, the starlit room, not particularly twinkly as the sunlight dimmed the effect of the tiny lights in the ceiling. Beth was back, sleeping soundly in her crib, Beiste hadn't told her. Mercedes reached in and stroked her blond hair, smiling as she noted her fist resting near her mouth, the position she always slept in. She was the sweetest baby girl.

The sun rose creating ribbons of light along the walls of the room, spotlighting Sam's pictures one by one. She felt close to him here, surrounded by his smile, the soft sounds of his daughter's breathing filling the room. Mercedes had stretched out on the floor, near Beth's crib, staring over at the small table beside the rocking chair that held Beth's castle snowglobe and that picture of Sam, the one she loved, of him squinting into the sun. That Sam loved her. That was the Sam that promised he would never leave, that was certain they would find a way back to each other. Where was he now? He had sent a substitute version of himself back to rejoin the living, one that didn't remember any promises, at least not any he made to her. She had just wanted him back, and her wish had been wonderfully granted, if she had only known that she should have been more specific, that wishes had to be made in clearly defined terms, she would've spelled things out, made it all clear. She wanted him back and she wanted him to still love her.

The sun had been at full blast in the sky by then, the room bathed in light, Beth would be stirring soon, as she inevitably did when she sensed daylight. One day she'd watch the sunrise with Beth, share the beautiful golds and oranges that mark the coming of a new day with her, just as she had with her father. That would be her gift to her, a respect for the cleansing beauty of sunrises. She couldn't be sure Sam would remember to show her, perhaps this Sam didn't even care about sunrises the way the other version of himself used to.

But they did have that night in the hospital, when they watched the moon fade and the sun emerge, he seemed to appreciate it then, so maybe her Sam was still in there somewhere, lurking in the shadows, letting his body be steered by an impostor. As the sun filled the hospital room that night, Sam hadn't felt much like an impostor at all, the Sam that knew and loved her seemed just within reach. Maybe that was where she could find him, smiling with the first rays of sun, maybe in those small hours he was hers.

"How long does it take the sun to rise? I think we have been waiting for hours." Mercedes snuggled closer to Sam, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know. It does when it does. You act like you've never seen the sunrise before." He looked at her seeming amused by her impatience.

"I have, just usually I was coming home from a club, or crawling out of bed for an early shift. I never really stopped to watch them." She looked down at their entwined hands resting in his lap. "Until my husband made me."

"Made you?"

"He had this thing for them, for mornings in general, but sunrises in particular."

"What did he like about them?" Sam asked stroking her hand with his thumb.

"He said he liked the colors, and how they stayed the same no matter where he was."

"You can always count on a sunrise."

Mercedes smiled. "That's what he used to say."

"Interesting. I was in the Army, did I tell you that?" he asked turning to look at her.

Mercedes lifted her head from his shoulder, flustered trying to recall what facts he had revealed to her, she didn't want to alert him of their prior connection yet. "Not sure, but I knew that about you."

"When I was in the Army, across the planet from Lima, just 18 and feeling more homesick than I cared to admit, I would count on the sunrises. I'd watch them and it would remind me of home." Sam grew silent gazing off at the sunrise happening outside their window.

"Sunrises remind me of home too," she said trying to pull him from his thoughts. She knew he had gone back to some place dark and dusty in Afghanistan. "The home I never really had until I got married. We watched the sunrises together sometimes."

"Sort of like we are doing now?"

"Almost, we would snuggle close in our window seat in our bedroom, wrapped up under a blanket, the curtains open wide."

"Sounds nice. It must feel weird to be with me here instead of him."

"Not really. I'm comfortable with you."

"How comfortable?" he asked leaning closer, his chin resting on her shoulder.

She shuddered at his nearness. "Very. I feel like you said before, that I'm where I'm supposed to be."

"You look really pretty in the light, your eyes sort of sparkle."

Mercedes smiled, looking down at her lap. "Thank you."

"You're blushing, all pretty, like a chocolate covered strawberry. I like it. Do you blush that color everywhere?"

"I don't know." She felt her cheeks warming even more.

"Why do I feel like..." he hesitated finishing his question instead just letting his eyes roam her face.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Why do I feel like I've done this before?"

Their eyes locked and Mercedes' breath caught in her throat, the look in his eyes making her a little lightheaded. A slow grin spread on his face as he looked away.

"You said you watched sunrises in the Army, maybe…"

"No," he interrupted brushing the hair away from her face. "Why do I feel like I've done this before with you?"

"Really? You think it might be your memory coming back?" Mercedes' heart lifted a little hoping this was a sign that her Sam was coming back.

He smiled. "I don't think so. It's more like a feeling."

"Déjà vu? Maybe in another life you watched a sunrise from a hospital bed with a nurse." She tried to hide her disappointment behind a joke. They were having a nice time, no need to spoil it because she selfishly wanted a bigger miracle than the one they had already received.

Sam laughed. "I guess that could be possible, although is this really normal nurse/patient behavior?"

"Not at all."

"I didn't think so. If I say something will you promise not to smack me?"

"You can tell me anything," she insisted turning in the bed to face him, her palm resting flat on his chest.

Sam looked at her quickly, then down at her hand that was still on his body, before letting his eyes slowly rise to her face again. "I can imagine making love to you while the sun rises," he said never looking away, his gaze unwavering and intense.

"What? Like here in the hospital?" asked Mercedes nervously.

His statement had made the butterflies in her stomach take flight. She had been with this man countless times before, but it felt like the first time all over again in that moment.

"No," he laughed. "But I can see it in my mind. You're on my lap."

"Like this," said Mercedes as she climbed across him and settled herself on his lap facing him.

"Yeah," he said his tone becoming a bit huskier. "And we are surrounded in sunlight, and your eyes are sparkling like they are now, and your head is thrown back." Mercedes leaned her head back, her chest protruding forward towards his. "Just like that. And I…" Sam ran a trail of kisses along the column of her throat, and then down her collarbone and onto her chest.

"I think you're making a move on me Mr. Evans," she said bringing her head back down to look at him. "You're not having déjà vu at all."

"Is that right?" Sam's eyes glinted mischievously. "Are you a mind reader?"

"I just think you are trying to live out some naughty nurse fantasy."

"You're cute," he said kissing the tip of her nose. "But I think my fantasies were fulfilled the moment you sat on my lap in these very short shorts." He ran his hands up her bare thighs, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you like them?"

"Oh I hate them." He dropped his tone as his hands crept even higher up her thighs, under the hem of her shorts. "I've wanted to rip them off you all night."

Mercedes gasped in mock horror. "Sam."

"You promised not to smack me." He smirked drawing her even closer to his body, their faces inches apart. "You're blushing again. I really have to know if you do that anywhere else." He lifted the happy face t-shirt up over her head, revealing her bare chest.

"So what's the verdict?" she asked biting her lip trying not to moan as his hands roved her body.

"I think chocolate covered strawberries might be my new favorite food."

Beth had rushed her from that memory, forcing her off the floor, and back to the real world. The following days were a blur of carefully orchestrating her avoidance with Beth's routine. Everyone must have secretly pitied her, because no one said a word as she passed Beth off to various family members, so that she could go spend time with Sam without her being present. The ploy seemed to be working, even Beiste had backed off, and stayed away from the house more often than not.

Peace was found as she tried to make her way to the bottom of an ice cream pint, her only stress was running out of the coveted dessert. It was almost an hour and she still hadn't resolved how to solve her present dilemma how to get more ice cream without actually leaving the house.

There was a knock at the door and Mercedes looked up. She could see Kurt outside, nose pressed against the glass. She sighed as she slowly got up to let him in.

"Were you actually going to leave me out there?" asked Kurt as he breezed by her through the door.

"I just want to be left alone Kurt. I told you that over the phone." She looked down at herself as she returned to her chair at the table, a faded Lima U t-shirt and black leggings. Her camel colored UGG boots kept her feet warm, since ice cream had a tendency to be a chilly meal in the heart of winter.

"That didn't apply to me though. You can shun the rest of the world but not your Kurt." He hugged her close around the shoulders before taking a seat opposite her at the table.

"I think I'm going to bed. I'm tired," she announced with an exaggerated yawn.

"It's only 3pm. Not even the folks at the senior center turn in that early."

"I must be still feeling the effects of that sedation. It was strong stuff."

"Don't give me that. They put you out weeks ago. You're just avoiding." Kurt unbuttoned his black wool pea coat making himself more comfortable.

"Maybe I am. I think I've earned the right to at this point."

"Sam is just being cranky. He'll come around."

"Cranky? You act like he's just upset I forgot to pick up his dry cleaning. He blames me for his coma. Not to mention he hates me and can't stand the sight of me."

"Nonsense." Kurt shook his head causing his chocolate brown hair to fall over his forehead. He was growing his hair longer and the efforts were starting to show. "He's just being a drama queen. It is an Evans trait. Though Uncle Dwight would be quick to call it Irish Pride. It's really just diva antics."

Mercedes smiled, a quick laugh escaping her lips despite her dour mood. "I'm picturing Dwight all diva like, demanding a certain brand of water and a bowl of sorted M&Ms, reds only."

"You don't think he does that? I bet Figgins has some stories he could tell."

"What Sam is feeling goes deeper than the color of his M&Ms. You weren't there Kurt. It was awful."

"I can imagine. I'm sure he said many hurtful things."

"He did. He thinks I'm a lying slut, not to mention an attempted murderer." Mercedes' stomach gurgled as she recalled the nasty tirade Sam had unleashed on her at the hospital.

"He didn't mean that stuff though. He's just frustrated and he took it out on you."

"I deserved it. He was right about it all." Mercedes let her head fall to the table, banging it against the hard wood a few times for effect.

"No he was not!" Kurt yanked her ponytail hard, forcing Mercedes' attention. "Have you been sitting here listening to emo rock and slurping Haagen Daz?"

"Dashboard Confessional and Ben & Jerry's." She held up the empty container showing it to Kurt. "Cherry Garcia."

"Okay, get your coat. It's time to go."

"I don't want to go out Kurt." She sighed. "I'm just going to replay the playlist on my Ipod and grab another pint." Everyone else had taken the hint. Why couldn't Kurt? Oh right, because he was Kurt, the human happiness elixir.

"No you're not. Time for an intervention."

"I don't need an intervention I need Ben and his pal Jerry."

"We're going to Scandals, where real food awaits."

"All the food at Scandals comes pre-cooked and you guys just nuke it. I'm not sure that can be considered real."

"Up up, grab that coat," said Kurt pulling Mercedes to her feet and dragging her toward the door. "Where's Beth?"

"Sue took her to visit Sam," said Mercedes glumly as she slowly put one arm in her coat.

"Perfect. Let's go." He shoved Mercedes out the door barely letting her grab her purse off the desk before shutting the door behind them.