The next few chapters are told out of sequence..please note the time stamps. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 39

(Sam)

6:30PM

He was alone, a bright room, but small like a cell, no windows, just white walls. A table and three chairs, two chairs on one side, the other alone across from it. The lonely chair must have been the place of honor, for the inmate, or patient as they called them here. Inmate seemed like a more appropriate word by the looks of things. Doors were alarmed, codes needed to move from place to place, everything bright and white, no spaces to hide, nowhere to blend, no privacy. Emotionless staff, faceless really, blank and pale like the white walls that surrounded him.

It was a place devoid of life, quiet, except for the hum of the fluorescents and the periodic buzz of an alarmed door being opened, no laughter, no music, just void. Sam hoped the whole place wasn't like this. He had encountered very few patients in his short walk from the front gates to the waiting room, maybe somewhere else there was more, sounds, spirit, signs of life. There had to be, Quinn couldn't live in a place like this. She was too full of beauty, her world filled with music and art. How could she be living in such somber surroundings?

Sam folded and unfolded his hands, anxiety taking hold, so soon he would see her. Quinn would be here, right across from him, her smile, her eyes, just her. It had been something he had wanted since coming out of his coma, the need to see her had overwhelmed him. She was all he could think about. There was breathing and then there was Quinn. He hadn't been this consumed by her since high school, when nothing mattered as much as her. After all that went down with Puck, Sam had vowed never to let himself be so wrapped up in her again, yet here he was a decade later, feeling worse off than he did at seventeen.

She was more now. More than just the beautiful girl he wanted to take to prom, more than the girl he used to kiss in the moonlight. She had brought him back, pulled him from the brink of nothing, and willed him to open his eyes. She had saved his life. Then there was Beth, this little creation, a perfect union of their past and present, of him and her, of everything they ever meant to each other. He had never imagined that life would bring him here with her, to share a child, to create a family.

Sam had only been thinking about second chances on that cold night in the woods, not about forever. Forever was beyond possibility, a dream he never would allow himself to have. A little while, a moment, as long as he could get, was all he could hope for with her. He might once again be proven unworthy in her eyes, and she'd move on to a better choice, the type of man she truly deserved. Facing his mortality had changed him somehow, he was braver, more confident, less afraid to fail. Sam planned to ignore the past, dismiss his past runner up status, and embrace the now. He was back, because of her, with renewed meaning in his life, because of the daughter she gave him. Now was his chance to prove that he could be the type of man she wanted and needed. Make her see that he had always been the man for her.

Quinn was so close he could feel her. Probably just his imagination but his heart was pounding and his palms were starting to sweat. Finally Quinn. What would he do once he saw her? Would he pull her into his arms? Would he break down with emotion? Would he just stare? Thoughts were rushing through his mind at lightning speed, possibilities blending one into the other. It didn't matter how he reacted, he just needed her here. It had been long enough. All of those weeks with his wife, fighting unnecessary confusion, meaningless attraction, all of that could have been avoided if she had been there, in Lima, in his life, in his arms. While his mind was hazy around his wife, everything was absolutely clear with Quinn, in his heart there was only her, just as it always had been.

The door opened, metal creaking against metal, he smiled focusing on his hands, not quite ready to look up. Then he did, slowly letting his eyes rise, to take in the shape in the doorway. Dressed in white that matched the walls, her blonde hair in stark contrast falling over her shoulder reaching her waist, a shy smile on her face, as she stood there gripping the door knob. She was nervous too, he could tell by the way she lingered, as if she were unsure whether she should enter the room. His eyes met hers, those beautiful green eyes, the boldest color in this colorless place, holding him to his seat, making his heart feel like it might stop. He wanted to keep his cool, remain calm, but he was powerless to stop the smile spreading on his face as he continued to stare.

She reacted, blushing slightly, her smile widening to match his own, taking one step closer, hand still on the knob, but she was inside the room. Sam propped his cheek on his fist, still smiling, just taking her in.

"You're here," she finally said and then nothing more, her eyes never leaving his.

"It was time," he said rising to his feet and extending his hand toward her. "Miss me?"

She released the door knob, placing her hand in his. "Always," she said.

They looked down for a moment, just studying her hand on top of his open palm. Sam could feel little tingles run through his body as the warmth of her hand bled into his own. She was still there, inside of him, still making him feel more alive than anything ever had. No adrenaline rush matched the sensation of just standing in a room with her, beholding her smile. And just like that he was 17 again, heart stopped, throat tight, eyes shining, hopes flaring.

She still took his breath away.

(Quinn)

6:25 PM

She could see him through the small glass panel in the door, light blue oxford, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark slacks. His hair was short, as it had been the last time she saw him, the day he was coming back to the world, but now instead of being in unruly chunks about his head, it had been coaxed into a hairstyle, the front flipped up away from his face. Quinn could only see him from the side, he hadn't looked her direction, instead focusing on something right in front of him. He was fidgeting, something Sam always did, and Quinn felt the all too familiar sting of tears behind her eyes. Sam fidgeting meant so much now, meant he was moving, he was back.

She could hardly believe he was here, just a few feet away, waiting for her. Less than five hours ago she had received his message, a simple slip of paper with the words "Sam will see you at 6:30" scrawled across it in red pen, practically illegible, probably written in haste by some uncaring receptionist. That person had no idea the value of that simple phrase, after so long, the one person she needed the most, would finally be here. And now there he was, almost within reach, steps away from hearing his voice, seeing his face, maybe even holding him in her arms. Dreams of this moment had been all she had, coming more often now that she knew, now that she could admit it, just who he was to her, his precious place in her life.

Quinn didn't believe in the one, there had been too many loves lost and found in her life to make her think that one heart could belong solely to another, but if there was anyone in her life that could come close to that, to maker her feel like her heart would always belong to him, it was Sam. Constant, unshakable, ever faithful Sam. Since the moment he embraced her into his life, pulling her with him into the light, he had never let her down, not truly, not in any way that counted. He had hurt her, disappointed her, and definitely made her angry, but when all that emotional clutter was pushed aside, his heart was still true, he still had her back, he still remained. Dependable, not in some staid boring way, but in the way that mattered, in the way that gave her courage to follow her heart, to float away on her dreams, and yet she always knew he'd be there for her awaiting her landing. Across the world, or across town, Quinn knew without question that he would be there, just as he had been since they were teens.

Luck was truly on her side, to allow her to have him even after years of taking him for granted, of utter neglect. This time would be different, because she was different, getting stronger, fighting to regain her balance, battling back from the edge. Lessons had been learned during this struggle, her internal war that had been waging since she had given birth to Beth, before then. Scarred and tired, but more determined than ever, Quinn was going to get her life back, hold each day close, never take a moment for granted, just try to live better and she would do it for Beth and for him. If Sam could find his way back to them through the fog of his mind, then she would do no less. Blessings such as these were not to be wasted.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dr. Hill approaching her, still talking to the nurse that had escorted her up from her room.

"It's okay Quinn, you can go right in," Dr. Hill said from a bit down the hall, raising her voice enough that Quinn could hear her.

This was it, their moment, she would see his face. She put her hand on the doorknob pausing before turning it to peer once more through the small window. Quinn closed her eyes, taking a deep breath attempting to steel herself against her brewing emotions. She didn't want to break down in front of him, allow him to witness her all too frequent tearful displays. She wanted to be the Quinn he always knew, the woman she had been back then, back in the time he remembered. Who was that woman though? Quinn didn't even have a clue how to transport herself back to three years ago, when things were ending with Puck, her career on the rocks, her armor dented, but still as solid as ever. Her Teflon mask had long since been discarded, letting her guard down and going back to Puck had seen to that. Destroying lives and her own sanity had taken care of the rest, and all that was left was how she was now, quivering barely holding it together, but determined. Determination was all she had to hold on to now and hopefully it would be enough for Sam, something recognizable in her current weakened state.

She turned the knob and pushed through, opening the door just enough that she could lean in the doorway, a safe distance where he couldn't hear her pounding pulse or see the tears in her eyes. Maybe from here, she would still look like her old self, the Quinn he remembered, the version of her he used to want, used to love. He looked up, crystal green eyes on hers, piercing and intense, and then he lit up, smiling as bright as the sun, instantly warming Quinn from the inside out. Flushed just from his smile, she needed to pull herself together, get a grip. If he got to her this much from just a look, what would she do if he actually touched her?

Then that was all she could think of, him touching her, his hand on her body, his skin against hers. She stepped closer, longing for just that moment, when he'd close the gap between them and end this prolonged dream. She was ready for it to be real, ready for him. Contact, her hand on his, felt electric, shocking her senses, making her shake. His hand closed around hers, and he was pulling her in, toward him, away from the door, and then they were alone, face to face, almost nose to nose and it was too much. She could smell his aftershave spicy and subtle, the warmth of his body radiating toward her, his eyes never letting her flee, as she longed to. She wanted to look away, run to the safety of the opposite side of the room, away from all she was feeling, overwhelmed, anxious, thrilled.

His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand that he still held, as he continued to watch her, his smile never fading. And then his opposite hand was in her hair, letting its length fall through his fingers, over and over, until finally it paused on her scalp slowly massaging circles into her head.

"Your hair is so long."

"Yeah," she laughed awkwardly, feeling so nervous under his gaze. "I haven't had a chance to cut it…"

"It's beautiful," he interrupted.

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat. It almost felt like all the air had left the room, he was so close, his hand in her hair, his other hand solidly gripping her, rooting her to the floor.

"Maybe we should sit down," Quinn suggested hoping to put some distance between them so she could find her breath again.

"Not yet," he said. "I just need to..." Without finishing his thought he pulled her into him, close against his body, surrounding her with his arms, his hands running up and down and her back.

It was too much, all too much, he shouldn't be this close, she wasn't prepared, she needed to regroup, she protested in so many ways within her mind, eager to find an escape, but as he squeezed her tighter she knew it was futile, she was already in the one place she had been longing to run.

Her arms circled his waist, her cheek rested on his shoulder, and the tears couldn't help but come. All those tears for the time they lost, for every hug she never thought she would get again, for every regret, for their beautiful baby girl that by some miracle had her daddy back. She cried for it all, finally cleansing herself of all she had tried to contain.

"Are you okay?" he asked against her ear.

She could hear the emotion in his voice, feel the dampness of his tears against her hair. Quinn held him tighter, bringing her hands up his back, allowing her body to cover him completely.

"I am now," she said softly.

Finally, Sam was here.

(Sam)

7:05 PM

Now that they had settled down, his heart no longer pounding in his chest, Sam could breathe again, think clearly. Those thoughts about the future, about deals, about sacrifice caused his stomach to knot with anxiety. He had to make a decision soon, his options felt limited, and with Quinn across from him, still holding his hand, his choice should have been so easy, so clear. Could he really sleep at night, in his warm safe bed knowing Quinn was stuck here staring at white walls, trapped inside away from the fresh air and the sunlight?

There was Beth to think about, separated from her mother, for yet another month. Sam wasn't even sure if his baby knew Quinn at this point, she had spent so much time away from her. What kind of father would he be if he allowed that to continue? But what kind of man would he be if he went along with his father's charade, if he pretended to be the perfect husband, just so he could get Quinn free? Beth was worth it for sure. He'd do anything for her, without hesitation. Yet he was hesitating now, doubts filling his mind, because this wasn't truly about Beth. Beth had him, had her grandparents, she could have a good life while Quinn recovered here. The deal wasn't about Beth, not really, it was for Quinn. Beth needed her mom, yes, but Sam selfishly needed her back in his life more. He was the one that couldn't live without her. He didn't even want to try.

If only his conscience would let him be, he would just put on smiles for Mercedes, play the game for nine months and then he would be free to move on, to live the life he truly wanted. If only he could make himself not care that she would be hurt, that her sad brown eyes would be given yet another reason to fill with tears. He didn't feel enough to want to be with her, but he felt too much to just use her this way, to trick her into believing he wanted her. His mind went back to Brittany, and all of her attempts at making him believe that she didn't love Santana, all the while Sam knowing that deep down she was lying to him, lying to herself. He never wanted to put another person through that kind of pain. Damn his father for making this so hard on him. Sam wished Dwight never even offered the deal, because now that it was out, suggested in the open, dangling in front of him like a shiny golden carrot, he found himself unable to resist. This could be Quinn's only chance for a long while.

"I guess I should stop staring and start talking now," chuckled Sam. He had been staring off in her general direction, lost in thoughts for some time. She probably thought he had slipped back into a coma.

Quinn smiled. "Yeah we don't get very long for visits, unless it is with our lawyers or doctors."

"I'm here with Kali so…"

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Kali?"

"Yeah Dr. Hill. We came up together. Mike drove."

"Mike is here?" she asked her eyes widening.

"Yep, he's waiting in the car though. He didn't want to come in for some reason."

Mike was generally a friendly guy, and he always was kind to Quinn, Sam really couldn't understand his refusal to come in for a visit.

"No one likes mental hospitals, Sam. There's always that fear they won't let you leave. He'd be stuck in here with us crazies." She laughed but the sparkle never hit her eyes, he could tell she was faking it.

"Don't talk about yourself like that. You're not crazy."

There was a lost look in her eyes, almost vacant, and Sam wondered if this place had put it there. Something about her seemed muted, less bright somehow. He couldn't help but feel a bit responsible for all of this, for her being locked away. If he had been alert and able last year he could have saved her, held her fast to reality, been the support she so obviously needed. Sam could only imagine how hard it must have been for her, alone in Lima, rejected by Puck, hated by his family, but still trying to hold it together for his newborn daughter. It was too much for her to bear alone, she shouldn't have had to go through that. He should have been there.

"Sam you don't understand. I was so out of it before. I didn't know what was real or what I was imagining." She tucked her long hair behind both ears, looking uncomfortable about sharing this with him.

"But you're better now right? You look good," he said trying to reassure her. He squeezed her hand, hoping that she would relax.

"Maybe I'm just really good at hiding my insanity, very few people actually look crazy. I learned that from being here."

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. He had done the math on the drive up, according to Kali, Quinn had been in the hospital for almost five months. That was almost all of Beth's life.

"How is it in here really? Is it awful?" he asked dreading her answer. Sam had already formed his opinion of this place during his short visit. This wasn't a place that Quinn should be.

"Well it is worse than the psych ward at Lima U hospital, more rules, less privacy, a lot more pills, but hey it beats being in jail," she said attempting to joke.

Quinn was putting on a brave face. She might have fooled someone else, but not him. He could tell she was miserable.

"You were in jail before, because of all this?"

Sam hadn't heard about that part. He assumed she had always been in the hospital after her - incident. He couldn't even think the word. His mind wouldn't let him see Quinn that distraught, that desperate and alone.

She looked down, her voice sounding strained. "Not too long. They put me in the hospital pretty fast. You know because of the river, and Beth…"

Sam could feel Quinn's hand tense in his. He could feel the connection they had forged earlier slipping away.

"Let's not talk about this now. I've got something for you." Sam reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a photo.

Quinn released his hand and took the photo. Sam hoped his disappointment didn't show. If he had his way he would have held her hand the entire visit. He needed to touch her, to ensure she stayed real. He didn't want all of this to vaporize and reveal itself as some fevered dream.

"Oh my goodness, look at you two. When did you take this?" she asked smiling so wide that her eyes were crinkling at the sides.

"Over the weekend. Beth insisted you'd like a picture of father and daughter. I wasn't so sure, I thought maybe you'd like one of her alone, but…"

A blush warmed his skin as he watched her smile at the photo, and to think he almost didn't give it to her. He wasn't sure if she'd like a picture with him in it. He didn't want to assume anything. Last Sunday night, Mercedes was working the overnight shift, so Beth spent the night with him for the first time. Finally he was mobile, although technically he was supposed to use a cane, advice he quickly ignored, Sam was able to tend to his child, completely. Marcel had stuck around to help him out, but for the most part, he did it all on his own. Diapers, feedings, and at 2am lit by the glow of the television, Sam and Beth posed for a picture especially for Quinn. He had been missing her and wished she were with him, so they could lose sleep with Beth together. He wanted to go through it all with her.

"It's perfect." She clutched the photo to her breast, holding it there as she looked over at him. "I love it. I hope they let me keep it here."

"They don't let you have photos?"

"It depends you have to earn privileges here and I'm sort of, well…"

"Sort of what…" Sam pressed trying to catch her eyes.

"Sort of on the penalty list," she mumbled.

"What? You? What happened?"

"I punched another patient in the nose," she admitted reluctantly. "She was mouthing off so I had to."

"That's what I'm talking about. High five." Sam laughed as he raised his hand up for her to slap. Halfheartedly she did, with a sheepish grin. "My girl's got skills."

"It's not funny Sam. It's not good that I have attention drawn to me like this. I really wanted to stay out of trouble."

"Shit happens, you've got to defend yourself right?"

He was proud of her. The Quinn he knew didn't take crap from anyone, it was good to see that side of her was still in there. Although a fist fight didn't fit his image of her. Quinn was always better fighting with words, she had a sharp tongue, that she used to put people in their place.

"I guess so."

"What did the other patient say?"

Quinn squirmed in her seat, unable to meet his eyes. "Oh just stuff. She made some comments about Beth being illegitimate, as if anyone cares about that stuff anymore."

"I do. My daughter's the Evans heir."

"She has your last name. I made sure of it."

Sam leaned back in his chair, a smile on his face. "Wow. I still can't believe it. We have a baby."

It hit him, the impact of this moment. They had been talking so casually about it, as if it were just nothing, not this life altering, fantastic, unbelievable gift.

"Are you happy about it Sam? Really happy?" she asked sitting up on the edge of her seat.

"What? Are you kidding me? I've never been more proud and happier in my life. Sometimes when I look at her I think I could burst, I'm just so…it's just so...amazing, you know? I never thought you and I would…"

"Yeah.., me either, but it's sort of perfect," she said placing the photo on the table, fingering the image lightly.

He grinned. "Absolutely perfect."

"Not to say that the situation was perfect, I mean we hurt people. You know about that right?"

"Yes, we had an affair."

The details were still sketchy in his mind, but he understood a bit more now. Actually the facts didn't seem necessary anymore, Sam knew in his heart what happened that night. She was his lifeline when his whole world was falling apart. His gut was telling him that was the truth.

Quinn shook her head, running her hands down her face. "It was one night when you were feeling desperate and you needed someone, too much wine, too many tears, not enough sense. We were so stupid."

"Hey, hey," he said pulling his chair around the table to sit next to her. He took both of her hands in his. "Stupid didn't create that beautiful girl. We may not have planned it, but the universe, a higher power, something wanted us to have this miracle. Maybe it was fate."

"It didn't feel like fate when we were going through it back then."

"What does it feel like now?" he asked running his hands up her arms, to rest on her shoulders.

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "It feels like a wish I didn't even know I was making. The best thing that ever happened to me is Beth and…" She hesitated her eyes locking with his as she let her hand rest on his cheek, caressing it softly.

"Sorry for the hold up," said Kali as she came through the door. Sam's head turned toward the door in irritation, as Quinn moved away from him, slouching back in her seat. "That nurse can chat up a storm."

"You really didn't have to rush, we were in the middle of something." That woman had the worst timing, Quinn was about to say something big, he could feel it.

"Yeah I can see that," said Kali as she watched Quinn wipe her tears on her sleeve. "Quinn are you all right?"

"Yes, just a little emotional. It's good to see this guy," Quinn responded with a smile.

"I'm sure it is. Sam can you leave us alone? I need to talk to Quinn."

"Right now?" asked Sam, urging Kali to leave with his eyes.

"Yes now. Please," Kali responded with her own dramatic eye movements.

"Okay, fine," Sam huffed, standing up.

"Are you coming back?" asked Quinn.

Sam's heart constricted, as he heard what sounded like fear in her voice.

Sam leaned down, ignoring Kali's impatient arms crossed stance, and whispered in Quinn's ear. "I'll never leave you again. I'll be right outside."

He brushed a kiss across her cheek, lingering for a few seconds to revel in the smoothness of her skin, before pulling away.

Sam had to think of something, come up with a plan, pull out a miracle. He had to find a way to make things work.

Because he wasn't sure he could leave this place without her.

(Sam)

8:30 AM

Sam threw the cell phone back and forth between his hands as he sat on the couch, frustrated, his mind racing, his nerves starting to fray. The constant motion of the phone was supposed to calm him, a make shift stress ball, but so far it had not helped. The phone was an old clunker, nothing smart about it, not even a keypad to text. Figgins lent it to him to use to conduct his affairs, such as they were, so far it all amounted to a whole lot of nothing. He let the phone fall into his lap, bored with his little game of catch. He frowned at the wrinkles that were now visible on his pants. Just a few hours ago he had been neatly pressed and eager, hopeful that he could convince the judge to cut Quinn a break. Dressed in his favorite charcoal suit, blue shirt, and coordinating tie that Mercedes had dropped off the night before, since he didn't have many clothes in his own home, apparently he had moved his whole wardrobe to Shannon Beiste's house. He definitely looked the part, professional, confident, persuasive, it turned out to be for nothing in the end. What a difference two hours makes.

"Back so soon? I thought you had a big meeting this morning," said Dwight Evans as he headed to the wet bar in the living room.

"I did. The judge suddenly had to cancel. Something about tennis elbow."

"I keep telling Leery he's not 35 anymore."

Sam frowned. "Just how well do you know the man, Dad?"

"How well do you know anyone?" Dwight walked over to the wet bar that was set up with coffee and juices for breakfast. "Coffee?" He held up the pot, offering it to Sam.

"Pass. I'm wired enough as it is."

"You've got to take it easy, don't push yourself too hard. You've only been back on your feet a week," said his father taking a seat in the armchair by the fireplace.

"I've been taking it easy for months. I have too much to do to sit still."

Sam needed to find someone to listen to him. It had taken two weeks just to get that appointment with Judge Leery, only to have it cancelled. Quinn's lawyer, Artie Abrams had been unexpectedly sent to Minneapolis on a case as a favor to Burt. Sam has hoped to meet with him, talk strategy, find out more about Quinn's case. Burt, who Sam had learned initially was on Quinn's case, was also mysteriously unavailable, out of the country on emergency D&E Industries business in Europe. It was odd since last Sam could recall D&E Industries had a legal division in place in Europe, and Burt didn't work for D&E Industries, he was the family's attorney.

Figgins had been indispensable rounding up names and numbers of key figures in the state's judicial system. Sam was determined to find someone to hear him out about Quinn. It didn't seem right that a young mother could be shipped off to a hospital for the criminally insane without just cause.

"You've got that Evans energy like my father. The man never took a break a day in his life, and look how much he accomplished."

His father was so proud, as he should be. Sam had heard stories about his grandfather's achievements in the manufacturing industry his entire life. He had grown up knowing he had big shoes to fill one day.

"Yeah well all this energy is a waste, if I can't make things happen."

He was trying not to get discouraged, but without access to the internet and a proper phone his efforts felt sluggish. Sam had rushed through his physical therapy, pushing his body harder than his doctors would have liked, but it was his body, he knew what he could handle. Last week he finally insisted he be allowed to eat real food again, he needed fuel to sustain his workouts. So they had reluctantly agreed to let him eat soft solids, like mashed potatoes and ground meats. Not what he wanted, he was craving a porterhouse steak, but it was progress.

The last roadblock to regaining his independence was his mind. On this one thing the doctors were adamant, no shocks to his system, he had to allow himself to process new information in stages. Twitches of fear about frying his brain and losing even more of his memory kept Sam from bending the rules in that area. He stayed off the computer, avoided live television, except for QVC - Beth seemed to be fascinated with that station, and kept his questions to a minimum, for now. Soon he wouldn't give a crap what the doctors thought, he would find out everything he missed.

"You need to stop spinning your wheels for that trollop and do something productive."

Sam exhaled sharply, annoyed by his father's persistent name calling. "I think helping Beth's mom get her life back is a pretty worthy cause."

"It would be if she were worth the effort. You get her out, and mark my words she'll do nothing but make that girl's life miserable."

"That's not going to happen." Quinn had a hard childhood. Sam knew for certain that she would bend over backwards to make sure Beth never suffered the same fate.

"Why? Because you think Quinn is a good person that just needs some love and compassion?" asked Dwight, his words laced with disdain.

"Actually, yes."

Ever since high school, Quinn had just been searching for some love and acceptance, once she received it from parental figures like Julian and Beiste, and himself she blossomed, opening herself up to new experiences and new people. Quinn needed that again, someone to help her out of the lonely, dark place she had fallen into.

Dwight snorted. "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that."

"Just stop it dad, please. Quinn is Beth's mom and a part of this family now, whether you like it or not."

"Last I checked I had two daughters-in-law and neither one was a treacherous slut."

"Giving us Beth makes her family. You need to respect that."

"Don't tell me what to respect. You're going around town making a complete ass of yourself on that woman's behalf, I have half a mind to set you straight right here and now."

"Set me straight about what? About Quinn? I know her better than almost anyone in this world, I trust her and I will support her. There's nothing you can say to change that."

Over ten years and those feelings had yet to fade, coming out of the coma that nearly claimed his life and his first thoughts were of her. There was no greater proof of their lasting bond, their continued connection, their roles in each other's lives than that.

"Check your child's medical records then come back and see me. Let's see just how far that trust goes."

Sam's stomach clenched. That was an odd remark. Was his dad hinting Beth wasn't really his?

"Dwight, what's going on in here?" asked Shannon Beiste as she came into the living room, dressed in all blue.

"Good Morning Shannon," Dwight said perking up his scowl transforming into a smile. "Sam and I were just chatting."

"I thought I heard you bad mouthing Quinn."

"Were you listening at the door woman?"

His father's voice was gruff, but he was still smiling. If Sam hadn't seen it with his own eyes he wouldn't have believed it. His father was flirting.

"You've got a big mouth, all that hot air echoes." She put her hand on Sam's shoulder. "How are you doing Sam?" Beiste asked with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm good Mrs. Beiste. Thank you," said Sam trying to return her smile, despite his less than happy mood.

"It's Beiste, please." She took a seat on the couch beside him, accepting the coffee cup Dwight held out to her.

"I keep forgetting. I'm not used to having you around so much. Not that it's a bad thing. You're like a breath of fresh air in this musty old place."

She hummed, sweet and melodic, usually old country songs, Sam could hear her in his room sometimes. And Beth loved her, her face lit up whenever she came near her.

"Thank you Sam. That's sweet of you to say."

"That's my son, so darn sweet. Did he tell you he's auditioning for the role of Captain Save-a-Slut?"

Sam groaned. When would his father give it a rest?

"Dwight!" Beiste scolded. She wagged her finger at him in warning, but Sam could see that twinkle in her eyes. He felt like he needed to leave the room, he was obviously the third wheel at breakfast.

"Please excuse my father he's in a misogynistic mood this morning."

"I'm just trying to help you out son, save you from any further embarrassment because of Quinn Fabray."

"Is that what this is all about? Quinn? Dwight, I thought we had come to an agreement, no disparaging talk about Beth's mother." Beiste mouthed something to his father, but Sam couldn't make it out, probably something sickeningly sweet.

Sam wasn't sure he could handle much more of their lovey dovey antics, not when his own love life was such a wreck. Never thought he'd see the day when he'd be envious of his own father. Yet here he was wishing he had someone smiling and flirting with him over coffee. Maybe soon he'd have it. If Quinn gave him one sliver of hope that he stood a chance with her, he was going to run with it. He wanted a pair of sparkly eyes looking back at him across the table one day.

"That agreement fell through the moment we finished that bottle of wine. I can't allow my son to fall prey to that..."

Sam jumped up, buttoning his suit jacket. "I'm not listening to anymore of this. I've got calls to make," he said as he headed into the foyer.

"You're tilting at windmills boy," said his father close on his heels. "The only option you have is mine."

"You think I'm going to stay under your thumb for all that time? Imprison myself for you?" asked Sam stopping to face his dad.

"You'll be thanking me in the end. I just want to see you happy."

Didn't his father realize that forcing him to do something like this could make him hate him, to resent him for controlling his life? Not that Sam thought his father actually cared about such things. Dwight Evans liked the people in his life compliant and obedient. He demanded respect not love. Sam had come to terms with his father's lack of affection, he no longer expected warm hugs and encouraging words. He loved and respected his father regardless of the fact he didn't receive any of that in return. The sad thing was this deal was making it hard for Sam to do either of those things at the moment.

"I told you what will make me happy, but you don't care. You only want me happy on your terms," said Sam looking his father straight in the eyes.

"I just want you to have the life you want. The life you were building before..."

"Before doesn't matter," Sam interrupted. "My life is only about my daughter now and what she needs."

Everyone was living in the past, which was ironic since he was the one with the mind stuck in 2011. His family and Mercedes all seemed to want him to just rewind himself back, become the man he was before he was in the crash. What they didn't understand was that the man they missed was gone. He was left behind somewhere, maybe on that patch of road where the car crashed. Sam couldn't be someone he didn't know. This was his reality, fractured as it was. All he could do was look ahead, trust his instincts, and create a good life for Beth.

"I see," his father said softly, sounding almost resigned. "Then you know what needs to be done. All you have to do is agree."

"You haven't won yet. I'm going to find a way to help Quinn without you."

"You keep digging your own hole, banking all of your efforts for the sake of someone so undeserving. You keep at it," his father said coldly.

"Trust me, I will," replied Sam his body tight with anger.

"I can tell you're very determined to let yourself fall again, into a pit with Quinn."

"I'm out of here," said Sam reaching for the door.

"Just so we're clear," said Dwight grabbing Sam's arm, stopping him. "I'm not going to let you fall. Not this time. I'll do whatever it takes to save you, because I'm not willing to lose you again."

Dwight let go of Sam's arm, abruptly turning and heading into the living room to Beiste, leaving Sam to stare at the back of a father he barely recognized.