Chapter 49

There's this thrill when the curtain's about to open and your heart feels like it is going a million beats per minute, and the lump in your throat feels like it is big enough to suffocate, but you put on your smile anticipating the hot glow of the lights and the building thunder of applause, and the fears and the nerves melt away as the music takes over and you are on auto-pilot. It had been years since Quinn had experienced that, three years to be exact, the last being a two song set opening for Jason Maraz in Chicago. It was so supposed to be her chance a comeback. An opportunity to follow up that one hit that defined her swiftly fading career, secured primarily by the Evans name, but hopefully a bit by her talent as well. The white shock of flashes, the microphones in her face, the chaos of questions asked in unison, took Quinn back to that stage, and suddenly what was once overwhelming felt practically like home. She threw her hair back over her shoulders and put on her smile, and faced the crowd with her head high, for the first time in months she felt strong enough to handle this.

Why should she have to hide? She was released from the hospital and on the mend. Why shouldn't she celebrate that, share her successes no matter how minor, with the world. Maybe others suffering from PPD could get something from her, gain some courage or strength from her experience. She hadn't let them beat her yet, and she never would. There also was the off chance that Sam might be around to hear her speak, maybe he'd be proud of her confidence, maybe he'd understand more about her struggle with depression, or most of all maybe he'd finally see inside her heart again. Tear down that wall he had erected between them and let her back into his life. It had only been hours, but it seemed longer, as Quinn grew frightened that if left unchecked their distance would only grow, and soon would leave them miles apart.

"I'll answer a few questions, but one at a time," she said clearly, authoritatively, acting like she were on stage commanding her audience's attention.

Hands raised and Quinn's smile grew, she felt like a politician giving a conference. They all wanted to hear from her and the power of that was exhilarating. Ten questions later Quinn was in the zone feeling like she could tackle anything that was thrown at her. She'd handled questions about her relationship with Sam, questions about her mental health, and questions about the absence of her family. Then a man in a navy suit and a brilliant white smile stepped forward and threw his question at her feet.

"Jake Myerson from the Sun. How are you this evening?"

Quinn smiled. "Fine, thank you."

"Ms. Fabray have you regained custody of your baby?" asked the reporter now that the pleasantries had been addressed.

"No not yet," Quinn answered self-assuredly. "But getting her back home with me is what I want most in this world. I will do anything to make that happen."

"Does that include using her father to do it?"

Quinn's smile dropped slightly. "I am not sure that I understand your question. Sam doesn't have anything to do with me regaining rights to my child."

"So it was just a miracle, some twist in the justice system that got you freed from Midwest Psychiatric Hospital and not the influence and money of Sam Evans?" asked the man in navy blue. He didn't even have a camera or pen and paper. How was he recording any of this?

"The judge changed his ruling. Sam had nothing to do with that." Quinn felt uneasy delving into this topic. The specifics of her release were a mystery even to her. All she knew was Dwight crafted a sick plot to get Sam to abide by his will, but that was nothing she could say to the media.

"Come on now Ms. Fabray, I find it hard to believe that the Evans name wasn't a help to you. Before Sam Evans came out of the coma you were firmly institutionalized, then he's back on his feet, and suddenly you're not."

"No comment."

She didn't like his tone, he was digging, trying to slip her up. There was a hungry look in his eyes, a determination to get the scoop no matter the cost. Quinn had faced reporters like that before, they were the ones that smiled in her face and offered her support, only to call her trash in their articles.

"Does Mr. Evans have any concerns about the safety of his daughter now that you're freed?"

Silence fell over the room, and Quinn literally saw the entire crowd of reporters lean forward, awaiting her response. Everyone wanted the answer to that question.

"Sam is very supportive of my recovery and efforts to regain my rights to Beth." Sam had been great. Patient and kind as he let her spend time with Beth and seemed to understand her uneasiness about being around the baby, if she didn't love him already, she would've fallen so hard for him after that.

"So he had no issues with the serious crimes you committed against your child while he was comatose?" asked the reporter, his bright grin looking more like sharpened fangs with each question.

"Like I said Sam realizes the extent of my illness and is supporting my recovery efforts. Are there any other questions?" Quinn scanned the crowd hoping someone else would jump in with a question about her music, or her dress, or even about Puck. Any subject was welcome to get this reporter's hooks out of her side.

"I have just one more question Ms. Fabray." The grin actually seemed brighter, like he turned up the dial on the illumination. He probably used that smile to distract from his true nature that was clearly more sinister than sincere.

"Yes, what is it?" Quinn asked her irritation starting to bleed through her façade of calm.

"You claim to not be having an affair with Sam Evans, and that he is not involved with your release, but isn't it true that you're staying at his suite at the Beacon Hotel?"

"No comment."

"And in fact he is your sole means of financial support now that you're back in Lima, just as he was last year before his accident?"

"No comment."

"And isn't it also true that his financial support and your presence at this party tonight are the main contributing factors to the rampant rumors that Mercedes Evans is filing for divorce?"

How dare he put that on her? He wanted to pin Sam's impending divorce on her, and that was so far from the truth. The media didn't know about his amnesia, but they had to know that Mercedes and Sam and problems long before the accident. Her friendship with Sam didn't cause his marital problems, his immature and indecisive wife did that all on her own.

"Sam and I have been friends for years, if his wife has a problem with that, it has nothing to do with me. I'll probably be in Sam's life long after she's gone."

"So you're confirming the divorce rumors?"

"No. I'm not talking about their marriage, I'm talking about my connection to Sam. We are friends and share a child, that gives us a lifetime bond. Mercedes and Sam have only been married for one year. There really is no comparison."

"Are you saying that you're more important to Sam than his own wife?"

"No you are misunderstanding me."

"I think I understand you perfectly. You said Mercedes Evans doesn't compare to you."

"That's not what I meant." Quinn dug her nails into the palm of her hand, trying to sting herself back into composure, but she felt like the room was shifting, the faces before her distorting like images in a funhouse. "You're twisting my words."

"Do you think being the mother of Sam Evans' heir affords you certain privileges?"

"I have nothing more to say on this matter. No more questions."

"Why won't you answer the question? Our audience just wants to know more about how wonderful and accepting Sam Evans is."

"Please no more. No comment," she said again raising her voice. Her hands nervously going to her hair tucking hairs behind her ears over and over.

"She said no comment. Now back off. Ms. Fabray is here to celebrate the birthday of her baby's father and old friend, please respect her privacy while she enjoys the festivities," said Artie Abrams suddenly materializing beside her.

Reporter Jake continued as if Artie had never spoken. "You've been painted as unstable, promiscuous, and of questionable morality in the media. I would think you'd be eager to set the record straight and clear your name."

"My client is a woman with strong morals and family values. She's faced some medical setbacks that have caused her to heartbreakingly lose custody of her daughter, but she's battling back from that adversity, and I'm confident she will be reunited with baby Beth soon. If you have any other questions I suggest you direct them to Sam Evans. Now that he's back to full health he can bear some of the brunt of this circus that has been created around a very private family matter." Artie placed his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the room.

"Thanks for that," Quinn said feeling very relieved to have escaped the room of reporters. "They were starting to get a bit more than I could handle."

"What were you doing in there? I can't believe you'd actually answer any of their questions, especially without me present."

"I tried to stop her," said Puck leaning against the wall with a full drink in his hand.

"Didn't try hard enough, how about grabbing her and pulling her back next time?"

"Quinn is my ex, I do know how to deal with her."

"Not very well, no wonder she left you."

"What the fuck did you just say?" asked Puck clenching his fists as he moved closer to Artie.

"Artie, it's not Puck's fault," said Quinn stepping between the two men to diffuse the building situation. Puck could be unpredictable when drunk. The last thing they needed was a brawl in the middle of Sam's party. "I ignored his warnings. I was trying to get away from him. Once I got in there I figured it would be a chance to stand up for myself, tell my side."

"You don't have anything to prove to these people. All you should be focused on is getting back to your daughter."

Artie made it seem so simple, but he didn't realize how much she had lost this past year. The reputation she worked so hard to build was in tatters. Lucy Caboosey was replaced in the mirror by a crazed baby killer and adulterous slut, only this time it was bigger than school, the country's eyes were on her, calling her name and pointing fingers all over the internet. How was she ever going to rise above all the negative attention and convince CPS she was good enough to take care of Beth again?

"I agree with you one hundred percent Artie," said Puck nodding his head. "Beth should be her priority. Too bad Quinn doesn't seem to agree. Her only concern is getting back to Sam. Do you handle divorces Artie? Because Quinn is trying to break up a marriage."

Puck was being deliberately mean. He knew she felt guilty about her feelings for Sam, she didn't need to be taunted about it. She felt bad enough as it was.

"I am not! God Puck! They're already half over as it is."

There was another side to this, beyond her guilty conscience. Quinn wasn't alone in her feelings. Sam loved her too. That fact brought her comfort and stress at the same time. Knowing that Sam didn't want Mercedes only appeased her guilt so much, a part of her couldn't forget that Sam's memory issues probably had a great deal to do with his current position on the issue of Mercedes. Yet there was also the Mercedes factor. Mercedes wanted to divorce Sam, before the accident and now. Couple Sam's lack of feelings for his wife, and Mercedes's desire to walk away and what was left was not much of a marriage.

"They're not over, anyone with eyes can see that." Puck shot Quinn a knowing look, forcing the image of the kiss back into her mind without saying a word.

"Sam can't remember her, all the connection, all their history is gone," Quinn reminded Puck.

Quinn resisted Puck's not so subtle jabs at her confidence. She tried to rise above her doubts and remember all that Sam had said and promised to her before. In the nursery, he had urged her to be selfish and hang on to their dreams, even if they seemed wrong or unattainable. That's what Quinn was desperately trying to do, hold on, keep the faith that they'd make it through this night and move forward to a better place.

"Doesn't seem to matter though does it?" asked Puck gulping his drink with his eyes trained on her. "Even without his memory he seems to be connecting with her just fine."

"I'd rather face the reporters. I'm going back in," said Quinn heading back down the corridor.

Artie grabbed her by the arm and halted her progress. "No you don't. Puck, can you give Quinn and I some space?"

"Sure." Puck shrugged. "And for the record Quinn I'm not being mean." He waved his glass at her. "I'm being real. I care too much about you to watch you fall."

The first time in a really long time she ever felt happy to see Puck leave. The alcohol wasn't doing his personality any favors, bringing out his judgmental side more than normal. Usually Puck tempered his need to preach with a healthy dose of compassion, but his understanding must've drowned in all the whiskey he had been consuming.

"You wanna tell me what's going on Quinn?" asked Artie once they were alone. He leaned closer looking at her with his kind blue eyes. "I can't help if I don't know all the facts."

"Nothing's going on. Puck is just super protective of Mercedes, even though I'm the one he used to be engaged to and has known forever."

Quinn was fine with Puck's friendship with Mercedes, she may not understand it, but she wasn't one to try to waste time figuring out what drew people together. Her best friend was Santana Lopez, someone that once tried to cut her over a guy, so she was in no position to judge. What did bother her was how blind Puck seemed to be about her true nature. Mercedes could do no wrong in Puck's eyes and might be the only person in this world free from his judgment. Quinn resented that blind faith and unconditional love. She wanted some of that from Puck too after all they had been through. He used to know her heart and understand her, but now he seemed painfully close to seeing her like everyone else did, like she was toxic and damaged.

"I take it you don't like that they're close."

"Actually I'm having a hard time liking her period. We got into it earlier about Sam. I had to set her straight about a few things."

"Like what? Something to do with why it was so important that you see him tonight?"

Artie was on to her, Quinn could sense it. He knew the reasons why she had to come to see Sam, he just wanted her to say the words out loud.

"Mercedes needs to realize that things are changing," said Quinn not taking his bait. It was easier to focus on Mercedes than to share the inner workings of her heart.

"Because you're back?"

"Right, but not just that, she can't call all the shots when it comes to Sam anymore. He's not in a coma, he can speak his own mind and manage his own life."

She couldn't wait for the day when Mercedes got ousted from her self-constructed throne as queen of Evans manor. Mercedes thought she had the whole family wrapped around her finger, and by the looks of it she did, Dwight, Puck, Kurt, Will, Sue everyone loved her, except for the one with the power to end her reign. Sam was the only one she couldn't control, despite how much she tried to do just that.

"Shouldn't he be the one to tell her all that?" asked Artie.

"He can't exactly." His hands and tongue were tied by his father, for now, but in nine short months he would be free.

"Can't? Or won't?"

"He needs to be cool with her right now, play the part, be a good husband." Something he was surprisingly good at it. Quinn struggled not to let it bother her that Sam seemed to be able to slip into the role of Mercedes' perfect husband with ease.

"I've never been married, so maybe I'm wrong, but I thought husbands wanted to be good to their wives."

"He doesn't want to be married."

"I did pick up on that when I spoke to him. I figured it was part of his amnesia."

"Why does it have to be amnesia? Why can't it be destiny?"

Quinn knew she was pushing her luck, she had so many prayers answered and wishes granted in such a short time and she was beyond grateful, but if there were any reserves of small miracles left Quinn hoped that another would be graced on her. In her heart she knew that what she and Sam were feeling was about more than just his amnesia and her depression, that their love had been building for years, since high school. She truly believed that all of this had been written on the stars, a cosmic message guiding their hearts together. All those nights spent cuddled together looking up at the night sky, and never did they see the signs. Perhaps Sam did, he always had faith in the endurance of their feelings for each other, but for Quinn it was only after almost losing him that she could decipher the meaning. If only Sam could remember all he lost, while still retaining his love for her, that would be her one last wish.

"Quinn what's going on here? You got all desperate to come see Sam tonight of all nights, and now you're talking about destiny."

Quinn could only smile. How could she explain something like this to him? Would he understand that her desperation was because she finally had her heart aligned with Sam's and she was ready for him to know it?

"Did something happen with you two?" asked Artie, continuing to press for a response.

The music hit a lull, the quiet transition between the band and the recorded music, the party sounds and waves of laughter filled the room, blending into one mass of sound. Then like an off key voice in a well harmonized chorus, she heard him, her baby, crying, loud angry screams, from somewhere in the room. Quinn's eyes followed the sound to a group of people not so far away. Sue was with her, and Hope, and a few others she didn't recognize. Beth was on Sue's shoulders crying even as she swayed. Maybe her baby girl was upset the music had stopped. Hush Beth, the music will play again. You'll always have it to keep you safe. Quinn found herself mimicking Sue's gentle motion, feeling almost as if she had the baby in her arms, comforting her, the way she should, if she were allowed.

Artie was talking beside her, but she couldn't concentrate on his words, so caught up in watching Beth like a silent stalker from a few feet away. Sue had passed her off to a shorter older woman now, who cradled her in her arms like a newborn. Her crying changed with the new position, going from angry screams to a staccato of sobs, following the rhythm of her gulped breaths of air. Quinn stepped forward on instinct to go to her. Maybe she could calm her down. She had liked being with her tonight in the nursery, maybe she needed her mommy to feel safe. Another step as Beth's cries started to build, she'd break the rules, risk the consequences her little princess needed her.

Seeming louder than any voice in the room, or perhaps her mind had just amplified the sound, Mercedes' voice invaded, quieting Beth's cries, and puncturing Quinn's heart. Mercedes had the girl now, her little head on her shoulder as she rubbed his back. Kisses all over her sweet head, and Quinn could just make out the expression on Beth's face, calmed, relaxed, nestling closer to Mercedes, like she was security and peace. It wasn't right to be pushed to the outsides, so far removed from every aspect of life, few friends, distanced family, no career, there was Sam, she hoped, but Beth, less than a dozen steps away, barely felt like hers to love.

As the PPD tried to take her from her heart, and as CPS ripped her from her arms, Mercedes had slid in undetected and picked up her slack, filling the role of mother better than Quinn ever did. Being out of the hospital made her absence from her daughter's life more apparent, an open wound that only began to throb now that it was exposed to the air, she was free, but still barred from recapturing all the pieces of her life.

"Does attorney client privilege still kick in even though I'm no longer on trial?" Quinn asked turning her attention back to Artie.

She needed to confide in someone. Dwight's nefarious plot was twisting her in knots. Sam had been her ally, her shoulder, her confidant, together they were able to heap the stress of this secret on each other, but he was being so distant, and Quinn just needed something strong to hold on to, just until she got her footing back on track.

"You can trust me." Artie assured her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.

Quinn knew it was true. She had trusted Artie almost since the first time she met him. He was yet another unexpected blessing in her life.

"I need complete discretion."

"You got it. What's up?" he asked leading her by the elbow to a slightly more secluded spot in the room.

Quinn took a deep breath. "My release from the mental hospital wasn't without conditions."

"I figured. You'll still have to meet with your doctor I'm sure."

"The conditions were more for Sam than me." Dwight didn't give a damn about her, that had always been the case, and giving birth to his granddaughter had done little to change her standing with the man. Dwight's deal with Sam was only about keeping Sam as far away from her as possible. Setting Quinn free had been an easy bargaining chip that Dwight used to get his way with his son.

"I don't understand."

Artie scratched his brow in confusion, and Quinn couldn't help but smile. Sam did that sometimes when he was confused or even nervous. Everything reminded her of Sam now, he encompassed every aspect of her life, even when she was standing in a dark corner talking to another man, her mind instinctively drifted back to him.

"OH my goodness! Quinn Fabray! Is that you hiding in the corner?"

"Ugh Kitty Wilde," Quinn groaned. Inside she retched, it was starting to feel like tenth grade all over again, just at the sight of the woman. "Do you think I can make a run for it?"

"A little late for that," Artie chuckled. "She's headed this way."

If she could survive the scary women at the hospital and a swarm of reporters, then Kitty would be a breeze. Quinn had dealt with her insults and catty comments for years. Her skin had thickened like armor by the time graduation rolled around. She was practically immune to Kitty Wilde and her hateful group of friends. But the PPD had changed her, softened her edges, slowed her reactions, and weakened her armor making her so quick to bleed. Quinn wasn't sure how things would go in her new more emotional state, the impulse to turn and flee was strong, but she didn't want Artie to see her so weak. He had sung her praises to the media, and Quinn was determined to live up to the image he had of her. She wanted to be the woman he saw when he looked at her, strong, moral, healthy, a woman worthy enough to raise Sam's child.