Chapter 34
It was his 18th birthday or maybe his 17th, there was a family dinner held in his honor. Everyone was there, his parents, Puck, Quinn, even Julian. As per usual during times when his family was gathered in a confined space, tempers flared, tongues grew sharp, and halfway through the night they all had forgotten the reason they came together in the first place. No one had even noticed that Sam had left the table, unable to take another moment of the bickers and the sneers. He retreated to his one safe place in the house, his haven since he was a small child, the space under his father's desk. It was sort of ironic that the place he liked to hide, was the one place usually inhabited most by the person he liked to hide from. But his father spent the majority of his time at D&E, so his home office, while being filled with the presence of the man, was rarely actually occupied by him.
Long and lanky, six feet tall, Sam still managed to cram himself into the space under Dwight Evans' large wooden desk. He pressed his head against the smooth oak surface and relished the sweet silence. Then she appeared, green eyes, and blonde hair, a smile that instantly made him feel brighter. Quinn had sought him out, she had noticed his absence. Crawling on her hands and knees she squeezed into the tight space next to him, taking his hand, enclosing it in her own, and then simply rested her head on his shoulder. No words, no apologies, no questions, just Quinn by his side. That was all he needed to make it through the rest of the night.
Over ten years later she still was all he needed, Sam had planned to walk into the grand salon, as Figgins liked to call it, with Quinn on his arm and his head held high. Finally he had his girl back, and he wanted everyone to know it. Their tough conversation about Beth, about depression, about living without each other had further strengthened his resolve to take life by the horns and go for what he truly wanted. And oh how he truly wanted her, still as beautiful as the day he met her, the lines from her struggles over the years, only enhancing her natural grace. Still all he ever wanted existed in the endless green of her eyes. Feelings so deep and enduring couldn't be wrong, no matter what his parents wanted him to believe.
Figgins materialized silently as he often did, with a suit in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other. Not a literal sledgehammer of course, but the metaphorical one was just as heavy and painful as a real one would've been. Emerald cufflinks in a velvet box, a gold setting with engravings around the edge, sizable stones, nice quality, but all in all fairly unremarkable as far as cufflinks went. So why did they feel like kryptonite in his hand? Upon closing the box is when it happened, that flash of light in his mind, a bright burst behind his eyes that slowly faded to reveal her, his wife in all black, crying in the middle of the room. Sam didn't know if it was a memory or just a thought, it didn't matter either way. Those tears felt way too real almost as if he could reach out and feel the wetness. He had seen Mercedes cry countless times by now, she rarely was dry eyed around him, a fact he found rather unsettling, but he had learned to manage seeing her pain on display. This however was far different, beyond any of the tears he had witnessed before, this was Mercedes tormented, in despair, once again because of him.
Sam looked at Quinn hoping her face would pull him free from this guilt laced trap, but her open expectant eyes only made it worse. She was hopeful for their magical night, a chance to celebrate their path to recovery and his birthday together. How could Sam be the one to dash that anticipation from her face? Yet he knew he would have to as Mercedes' tears surrounded him like a second skin. Who was this woman that she could get to him so deeply? Forcing him to push aside all he wanted just to do her will. Making him disappoint Quinn, just so Mercedes might smile. Pure insanity as he stood in the middle of his room arguing with himself about what to do next. He could have easily ignored his mom's lectures about doing his Evans duty, or his father's threats of locking Quinn away, but the imagined tears of one short woman made him stop in his tracks? Freaking insane, but that was how it happened.
There was a sense of urgency, and a touch of exhilaration coursing through Sam as he put on his new suit and raced out the door, running right into Figgins. She's in Mrs. Beiste's wing Figgins had informed him before Sam could even ask. The man had this uncanny ability to anticipate all their needs. Rushing down the hall, he formulated his plan on how to get a woman he was pretty sure hated him to escort him to his own birthday party. Blitz attack would be the only way, take control, never give her the chance to say no and she'd have no choice but to come with him.
The plan had worked. Standing in the middle of the party, gripping her hand, surrounded by family and friends, he knew his mother had been right. There shouldn't have been a choice. He had to appear publicly with his wife. They both were trapped in these roles for the time being and the only thing to do was to play them to perfection. Mercedes seemed to get that, as she smiled, and chatted by his side. She seemed to know all of these people, from distant cousins to business associates. They had been married such a short time, and yet she seemed to have infiltrated all areas of his life. Intriguing that he apparently let her get so close to him, blatantly against his father's teachings of keeping wives in the dark and on the perimeters.
That's where Quinn was when Sam finally spotted her, on the perimeters where his father liked to place all women. She was with her lawyer Artie, pretending to be happy, but Sam could tell she was faking. There was sadness in her smile. It was only for one night he assured himself, and she had understood, she had said as much upstairs. Later he would make it up to her, they'd have a celebration all their own. But as for now, he had a date to impress.
"Are you going to be like this all night? Giving me the silent treatment?" He asked when he finally got them to a quiet space in the room. Set up like a little lounge with clustered upholstered seats and couches. "Apparently I offended you in some way when I gave you a hug."
"You broke the rule," she warned, barely looking his direction.
"As far as I know there wasn't a no touching rule."
"There should've been." Mercedes looked at him that time, sharp eyes, tight lipped, all business.
"You're just trying to stay mad at me so you can resist my charms. I know with me is exactly where you want to be," he said in a teasing tone to lighten the mood.
"You've got the biggest head in Lima."
Sam smirked. He couldn't help it. He had to take it there. "I have received compliments on my size."
Mercedes rolled her eyes. "If dropping your pants is the plan to dazzle me, then you better call it a night now."
"You wish you could get so lucky." There was no fooling him, he could tell Mercedes found him attractive. She'd been checking him out on the sly since he got her from upstairs.
"Eh, been there, done that…"
"Made a video?" he asked raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"On that note, I'm going to find Kurt."
"No wait," he said grabbing her arm. "I'll be good. Sorry. How about a drink?"
Not even an hour and she was trying to get away from him. His game needed some serious work.
"No alcohol. I'm pretty sure that's why you collapsed earlier."
"I meant for you. Seems like you need to relax," he said under his breath, but purposely loud enough for her to hear.
"That's your secret weapon?" She laughed. "Get your date drunk and she won't remember how much you suck?"
"That's pretty harsh," he said noting that they were no longer alone in the lounge. Other guests had trickled in.
Mercedes ran her fingers through her hair. "Calling it like I see it."
"I'm going to the bar. Be right back." He was trying and all he was getting was attitude. Maybe he deserved some flak for what went down with Quinn, but he was trying to move them past that and she didn't seem to care.
"Yeah right, you're probably just going to make a run for it. Try to find Quinn," she called out after him.
"You know what Mercedes," he said, as he turned and closed the gap between them. "I'm making up another rule. We can't spend the rest of the night like this."
"Like what?"
"You resenting me and thinking the worst of me."
"I'm just treating you like you deserve." She shot back, with hard brown eyes, staring him down.
"Listen to me," he lowered his voice so no one would overhear. "I'm not the man you married. I've forgotten things, whatever changes I made are lost now."
"Yeah I know that already."
"Do you? I think you're provoking me and making all these comments hoping I will just snap and come out of it somehow. Like poof your Sam is back. Mercedes that's not going to happen. This is me." Sam pointed to his chest. "This is who I am. If you can't deal with that, then I guess you're right, we do need to end this. Get divorced."
"Finally we are in agreement."
"Are we really? Because something tells me things aren't over between us. You are acting all cold, but deep down I think you're thrilled to be here with me."
"Again with the ego." Mercedes took a seat, giving off the air of boredom, but Sam knew it was an act, she was right there with him.
Sam sat beside her on the couch, closer than normal, but he wanted to crowd her space, steal her air, so she would be forced to focus on him.
"It's not ego. I can feel it. You are so open to me Mercedes, have been since I met you in the hospital. Your emotions are all over your face. You want to be here with me. You want this to work."
She looked at him, expressionless, as if he had said nothing at all.
"I chose you over her tonight." Sam admitted. He wasn't sure if that info would help or hurt his cause, but it was the truth and it felt right to tell her.
"What do you want a medal?" she asked standing up. "You decided to be seen in public with your wife, should we run and get the media?"
Okay so that truth definitely didn't help. Mercedes was all offended now, which pissed Sam off. She's mad because he chose her? What the hell? He could be with Quinn right now, making up for lost time. But no, he chose to spend the night with her, and this was what he got for it? Nothing but bad attitude and nasty comments.
"You've got such a smart mouth, always yapping, not enough listening." He stood up in front of her, thoroughly irritated. "Do even hear what I'm telling you?"
"All you do is lie. What's the point of listening?"
People were probably eavesdropping and he didn't care. She was acting like a brat for no reason. He couldn't let her get away with that unchecked. "Fuck Mercedes. We're in the middle of a party and we're really going to do this? Right here?"
"Soon enough everyone will know the truth. That we're done."
Her lower lip quivered as she delivered that blow and Sam had to cover his smile. She was the liar, not him. Her face gave it all away.
"No we are not." He stepped closer, running his hands down her arms. "Done doesn't look at me the way that you do. Done doesn't shiver whenever I get close." She was trembling even now, almost undetectably, but he could feel her inner battle for control.
"Why are you pushing this?" she asked looking away, biting her lower lip when he let his hand tangle in her dark hair. "You just want her, not me."
"I want a chance," he said massaging the back of her head, coaxing her to look at him.
Finally she did, brown eyes, puddled with tears. "Why? To save face in front of all of these people, so the headlines won't read Sam Evans dumped after waking up from a coma?"
All false bravado, Mercedes was all raw emotion in his arms, the right touch and she'd melt. He just knew it.
"It's not about my reputation. I've been dumped before, it hurts but I'll survive. I need to know you. You made me hurt Quinn tonight. I hurt her when I chose to come down here with you. I need to find out just what it is about you that made me do that."
Stepping away from her startled by his admission, he felt like he should run. Sam wondered if it were actually possible to outrun himself, if he could pick up enough speed to leave his brain behind. Needing to know her wasn't something he was prepared for, needing anything from her felt wrong. Quinn was everything he needed, she always had been. Why did it suddenly feel like that wasn't enough?
"So you're curious?" she asked jarring Sam from his daze.
Mercedes was so close now, her brown skin almost glowing in the light. Her full lips beckoned him, so he indulged, running his thumb across them gently. She didn't pull away, allowing him contact that surely broke a rule.
"Curious, interested, haunted, intrigued, attracted, who are you?" he asked in barely more than a whisper.
The room had melted away, the sounds of the party gone, it was just the two of them as Sam fought against feelings he shouldn't be having. Confusing feelings that threatened to ruin his life, his future, but he couldn't help himself. She drew him in, every time.
"The answer to that is so simple," she said caressing his cheek.
He knew the answer, and he prayed she wouldn't say it, but at the same time he couldn't help himself from leaning into her hand that was on his face. Then there was silence as if she were waiting for him, to do something, to say something. So he did, inching her closer, locking his hands behind her back, trapping her against him. Letting her into places she shouldn't be, not after tonight, not after Quinn. His tongue was possessed and the consuming need was in control as he asked again. "Who are you?"
"I'm yours," he thought she said, but her lips didn't move. Yet somehow he was sure that was her response. "Can you repeat that?" he asked a breath away from her lips.
Lost in the maze that was her eyes, and the feel of her hands on his skin, he drifted into her, tasting those lips for the second time that night. She pulled him in slowly, offering her mouth like a blessing, stroking the back of his hair, urging him closer, so soft and so sweet, so right –
"Quinn." And so wrong.
Sam pulled back stunned. Did she say that or did he?
"Didn't see you there," said Mercedes, grabbing Sam's hand.
"Clearly," said Quinn.
Feeling like he was trapped in some crazy dream, he struggled to get his head together, so he could focus on the scene in front of him. Quinn and Mercedes in the same space, Sam was unable to form thoughts let alone words.
Tugged by the arm, he was moving. "Sam." Yeah that was his name. "I'm ready for that drink now."
He looked down at Mercedes, hearing but not comprehending. All he could see was the look on Quinn's face as he was dragged past her out of the room. The saddest of green eyes, watching his face, burning through him, exposing his core. Sam couldn't look away, though he knew he should, his eyes remained on her until she faded from his view.