Chapter 50

Santana squeezed Sam tightly around the torso. "It's just so good to see you awake."

"Thanks, Santana." Sam said feeling a little winded as he fought for air in her tight embrace. "You can let go of me now."

"Okay okay," she hugged him even closer.

"Ugh, Santana," he said as loud as he could, but it came out as nothing but a whisper.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I suppose you need to breathe." She let him go, but continued to rub his arm affectionately.

"Ya think?"

"I missed having you around Sam."

"I missed being around," he smiled. He was finally getting used to all the touching. Virtually everyone he encountered at the party wanted to give him a hug. It was nice to be missed.

"So are you going to head over to the press room? Quinn might still be talking?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Sam.

When he first saw Quinn on Santana's cellphone screen he was more than a bit surprised. She was beautiful and poised, every bit the shining star he remembered. The fact that she handled the reporters so well didn't surprise him. It was the fact she had talked to the reporters at all that had him in shock. They had discussed keeping a low profile, not drawing attention to her release and her presence in the house, for a number of reasons, first being CPS, and second and almost just as important was his father. So while he liked seeing Quinn, and really liked what she had to say, Sam couldn't deny that her description of their relationship had made him smile, but mostly he was worried that her little impromptu conference was going to prove to be a serious hindrance to their goals.

"Are you afraid of a few questions Sam? You've got to face the music some time, you grew up with. You should know what to do."

"I have no problem answering questions, that's not the issue. I just don't think I need to be doing interviews without my wife by my side."

"Boooring. You don't have to put on the hubby act with me. Miss Monchichi has skipped off to play."

"Leave her alone Santana."

"Why should I? She's such a little witch. Do you know she actually didn't invite me to this party? She told Puck he couldn't bring me."

"Well you're here now."

"Because I had to make sure my girl got in to see her man. How did you like her surprise visit?"

"Loved it." Sam smiled, remembering Quinn entering his room in her black coat, just like their first date back in high school. "But it wasn't the best idea. Beth's here."

"You worry too much. Beth's fine and Quinn hasn't been near her anyway. No harm, no foul. And you two got to spend some quality time. Did you talk about anything interesting?"

"Yeah we had a few very revealing conversations," Sam admitted halfheartedly.

"I knew it!"

"I don't know why you're so excited. I wish we hadn't talked at all."

If only he could rewind back to when she first appeared in his room like a goddess, giving him smiles and kisses. That was the best birthday present he could've asked for, just spending time with Quinn. Then they started getting deep and everything went downhill from there. Not that he didn't love hearing her pour her heart out about her feelings for him, and how he was her dream and that he completed her, those things were going to be bronzed and framed and hung on the walls of his memory banks, but all the rest, the sad stuff, the painful stuff, the Mike stuff, he could have done without.

Which he knew made him a hypocrite, demanding the truth, then wanting to hide from it once he heard it. It was just so much nicer when things were drama free, spending time with Quinn and Beth, planning their life together, that was perfect, the rest, the reality of their situation, threatened all those plans and deflated his dreams. For once Sam would've liked a day where everything went smoothly and the future was looking up, instead he got thirty minutes max.

Of course these were all delusions anyway, his situation had been complex since the moment he woke up from the coma, actually drama had been the backdrop of his life since birth. Being the son of Sue Sylvester and Dwight Evans pretty much ensured he would never lead a quiet existence. Though when he thought about it, seems like he came pretty close to quiet, well as close as an Evans could get, in his life with Mercedes.

"Your Quinn's still in there," Santana said unexpectedly, her words seeming so random in light of their conversation thus far.

"Do you think she's well enough to be back home, to handle all of this?" Sam asked following the lead Santana had set for them.

"As long as she has you in her corner, she'll make it through. It has been a tough few months for her with you gone."

"Puck told me. He said the press hounded her relentlessly."

"Yeah there was that, but I meant that it was hard for her to harbor feelings for you that she had to deny. Pent up emotions take a toll."

"I know. I used to be an expert at living with pent up emotions."

"You can still talk to me you know," Santana said softly. "The way you used to."

"I don't remember us talking. I do remember you stealing my wife and siccing your pitbull Dave Karofsky on me."

"Bygones Sam. Neither one of us is with Brit now anyway. So talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm just happy to be alive." When he focused on that all his problems seemed smaller, well at least not as important, despite all his complaints, he was truly grateful to be back among the living.

"You looked happy on top of Mercedes. Really, really happy."

Sam shook his head at Santana's audacity. Was there no line she wouldn't cross? "Santana. I can't believe you just barged in here."

"Excuse me for thinking this was a family friendly affair. If I had known it was the 'boom boom room' I would've brought myself a date." Sam shot Santana a disapproving glance, as pointless as that gesture was. Santana wasn't the type to be squelched by a simple look. "I warned Quinn about this," Santana continued as she made herself comfortable on the soft leather couch. "She has no idea who you married and neither do you for that matter. Quinn might put up a good front, playing all cynical and aloof, but she really does try to see the best in people, even when that best is buried real deep. She's friends with me after all I put her through, that's saying a lot."

Sam took a seat beside her. "Quinn used to have a kind and forgiving heart."

Santana was different than he remembered, not so much in her appearance, she was still brass and overbearing, but there was a different air about her. Calmer, less harried and eager, Santana used to be always moving, always thinking, on the take, plotting her next score. Now she seemed relaxed, almost content. Sam couldn't help but wonder what had changed in her life to take away her hungry aggression and replace it with the sated person at his side.

"She still does, just like you, no matter how much you try to hide it. I know what kind of man you are Sam. You, Puck and I spent a lot of time together all our lives. I know you pretty well."

Sam remembered those years with Santana. She had somehow become his confidante when his parents' relationship was in disarray and he was falling in love for the very first time. Santana wasn't too much older than he was, but those few years made all the difference. Santana had life experiences that Sam could barely imagine. He knew Santana was on the take most of the time, using whatever means for some ill-conceived plan, but underneath all the conning, resided a woman with a truly romantic soul. That was what had connected Sam to her then. They both had a softer side they desperately needed to hide.

"I'm not seventeen anymore Santana." Lately he had been wishing he still were. Things seemed so much easier then. He'd rather battle Puck again for Quinn's affections than have to deal with being stuck between two women.

"Could've fooled me," she laughed. "Last night pledging your undying love to Quinn, tonight dry humping your wife, only high school boys and porn stars switch gears so fast."

"I can't believe you just went there."

Santana was right though, his sex drive had been getting out of control lately. Nine months was a long time to go without, and his body was craving a release. What was worse was that his body was craving it in specific forms. Sam wasn't attracted to any woman in a skirt that passed his direction, if only he were, he could take care of his hormones quickly without hurting anyone in the process, but his body had other plans, only seeming to go into overdrive when Quinn or Mercedes were nearby. Another thing that made no sense, Quinn and Mercedes were nothing alike physically. Where Mercedes was soft and rounded, Quinn was lean and defined. Black hair versus blonde, one was mouthy and direct, the other more quiet and reserved, both were sexy as hell, but while Quinn's sex appeal was obvious, always on display in the curve of her breasts, the brightness of her smile, and the startling green of her eyes. Mercedes's sexiness was less apparent, deceptively hidden behind her endless curves and sad eyes.

"You've got a good thing going with Quinn, don't let your wife ruin it. She'll play you and get you ensnared and you won't know what hit you."

How much did Santana know? She seemed pretty insightful about his feelings for Quinn. Perhaps Quinn had confided more than he realized. Not that he minded especially, he was glad that Quinn had someone to be close to, even if it were someone as unlikely as Santana, but he couldn't help but worry if Quinn had let too much slip out. If she had revealed to Santana the true nature of his marriage to Mercedes and the reasons he couldn't just walk away from it.

"I get you don't like her…" Sam started, surprising himself with his need to defend Mercedes at this moment.

"It's not that," said Santana cutting him off. "I just know what kind of person she is. Being raised by a woman like Keisha Jones, what she put her through, you don't get out of a childhood like that unscathed. It makes you needy, and determined to fill those needs at any unscrupulous cost. She will use you and not even think twice about it, because you have what she wants Sam. The name, the money, the power, she's not going to let you leave her for Quinn."

This wasn't the first time he'd heard disturbing tidbits about Mercedes' past. While none of it added up to much in his mind, just more confusing pieces to the mystery that was his wife, he found himself increasingly discomforted about what he was hearing. Something terrible had happened to Mercedes that no one was willing to say out loud.

"You paint a pretty dire picture of her when all she's ever been was nice to me."

"Never bite the hand that feeds you." Santana said quickly, as if that summed it all up.

It didn't. Mercedes wasn't just being nice to him out of obligation or some desire to control his wallet, Sam knew that now. She had proven herself to him these past few weeks. She wasn't sticking with him for any other reason besides the fact that she cared as far as he could tell. And Sam knew all of his back and forth, his harsh words, and his utter denial of her existence had taken a toll. She hadn't held it against him, yet, she kept giving him more chances to make amends, to come around. It was as if she were waiting for something to happen, maybe a rainbow to sprout from behind the clouds, or to catch sight of a four leaf clover. It felt like he was expected to grant her a miracle, the curative to make all the tears go away and Sam was leaden with that responsibility. He knew he didn't have what she needed stored anywhere in his meager reserves. He was barely surviving himself, holding together his fragmented mind, and raw emotions with nothing more than stubborn tenacity and southern pride. He couldn't save Mercedes, not when he couldn't even save himself.

"So say Mercedes is out to keep me, so what? I married her I must have had some idea about what she was like."

"Yeah you did, and I think you liked it. Finally a woman that didn't try to rein you in, and I guess every boy wants to marry someone like his mama, though why you'd want to have a Sue clone in your bed is beyond my comprehension."

"This conversation is getting disturbing." Sam's stomach turned. "I did not marry a clone of my mother."

"If you say so, my point is this, you only married Mercedes because Quinn was no longer an option, but now she is. And you are like one swipe of your pen away from being free."

"It's a little more complex than that." Thanks to his dad and his inability to find the switch in his brain that turned off his feelings for his wife.

He had willed himself to stop caring before. He'd done with Quinn when he joined the Army. A switch was flipped in his mind and Quinn went from the truest love to just a friend in a matter of weeks. Only in the silent darkness on base did he allow himself to think of Quinn in any greater terms. Unfortunately for Sam, nightfall was an everyday occurrence, so his thoughts were filled with Quinn whenever the sun set, but during the day, his mind was clear and his heart ached less. Sam needed to find that switch again to use with Mercedes, he thought he had flipped it, he had spent a couple weeks successfully blocking her from his mind and focusing completely on Quinn, except for those times when she crept in, those eyes haunting him cruelly, not even bothering to contain themselves to only after dark.

"Only because you're making it that way, you need to control your libido and back away from the little girl."

Did Santana have a pill to make that happen? Because Sam was more than willing to take it. He had been so close to throwing everything away with Quinn right on this very couch. He had taken a moment, debated in his mind the pros and cons of having his way with Mercedes in the middle of his birthday party, and in the end his brain had just stopped working and something else took over, something more primal and unrelenting. He was going to have her and if it weren't for Santana's intrusion he would have. Sam wasn't proud that he almost let his impulses rule him, he prided himself on being a man in control of his own destiny, but apparently not his own body, because the consequences of the act were not a factor once he saw her breasts start to spill from her teal blue bra.

The same thing had happened to him the night before at the hotel with Quinn. There were no thoughts about how sleeping with Quinn would impact his marriage, not when his beautiful Quinn was writhing beneath him, clawing at his back. He needed to get laid that was all there was to it. Tomorrow and his night out with Puck and Mike couldn't come fast enough for Sam. He wondered if the rumors about Higleys' champagne room were true and that every wish could be fulfilled behind those golden doors. Sam hoped they were, because he was in desperate need of some fulfillment.

He brought his mind back to Santana and their current conversation. "You are like the only person encouraging me to end my marriage. Well you and Rachel. Everyone else seems to think I was better with her."

Santana paused before she answered, as if she were giving things serious thought. "You and Mercedes were cute. I could see the appeal, sort of, but true passionate forever love? I don't think so. You and Quinn are the real deal."

"How do you know that?" Sam asked, very interested in her response.

"You keep coming back to each other, no matter the situation, no matter the person, it always comes back to the two of you. How can you ignore a love like that?"

This was true. It always came back to him and Quinn. Sam knew that, he loved that. It was the one constant in his life he could rely on – her. Even now when he wanted to turn back time and erase the last few hours with her, he still knew it. They would find a way past all of this, and it would be back to the two of them. He just wasn't sure how or when that would happen. He only knew that it would.

"I'm not ignoring anything. I feel all that for her. There's just more to it."

Santana stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her gown. "I'm going to find Quinn, maybe she can talk some sense into you."

"Santana, stop," said Sam grabbing her by the hand. "I'm focusing on my wife tonight so I don't think a conversation with Quinn is in the cards. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her about anything you saw happen between me and Mercedes."

"Covering your misdeeds with lies is a slippery slope," Santana gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then released it. "You don't want to wreck the trust that you and Quinn share."

Sam winced slightly at Santana's words. He didn't want to ruin any trusts, especially after the dents it already had in it, but he couldn't let Quinn know about this either. Not so bluntly, without something to cushion the blow. Quinn was jealous, she had made it clear, and while Sam was flattered and honestly amazed that Quinn Fabray would ever have such feelings about him, he didn't want to fuel them.

He wasn't proud of how he had lashed out at Quinn earlier, throwing his wishes for his memory's return in her face. He knew it would hurt her, and he wanted that, because she had kicked him so squarely in the chest with all the withholding of truth. It was childish and vindictive and typical him, but he couldn't take it back, and he wasn't even sure he was over the feelings that made him react that way in the first place, but at least now he knew he didn't want to make things worse.

"I'm not lying. It's just private between me and my wife. I'd appreciate it if you'd respect that."

"Okay that's my cue to go. You're turning into pod Sam and I can't stomach all the propriety bs you're trying to sell. I'm starting to feel like I'm talking to Puck."

"Do I have your word Santana?" Sam asked, rising to his feet. He wasn't going to let Santana out of the room without reaching an understanding.

"You don't have to worry about it Mr. Evans, my lips are sealed, but not to preserve your precious rep. I just don't want my girl going through any more stress. The last thing she needs to hear is that the man she loves can't keep it zipped around the little troll he married."

Sam could tell Santana was irritated at being forced to comply, but at least she had agreed. A wave of relief washed over his body. One more disaster averted.

"I appreciate your discretion."

"Don't close your window this time Sam," said Santana as she walked slowly toward the door.

"I'm not sure what you mean." Talk about a non sequitur, Sam was thoroughly confused.

"There was this window when Quinn was just starting out with Mike and you had broken things off with that college girl. You had an opportunity to finally get Quinn back in your life, for good, and you just closed it." She turned to face him, eyes shining, a sad smile on her face. "Don't do that again Sam. Take it from me windows don't open very often."

"Are you talking about Puck?" Sam asked, struggling to connect where this turn in the conversation was heading. "I know he cares about you…"

"I'm not talking about Puck," Santana said holding up her hand. That one gesture somehow had the power to stop his words. "I'm talking about you. And Quinn. I know you have something going on with your wife. And it probably seems exciting and mysterious, having an attraction to someone you know next to nothing about. That will suck you in, overpower all your rational thoughts, like a drug."

"Santana, it's not what you think. Mercedes and I…"

Again she held up her hand, stopping him. "I've been there. I know the look. I see it in your eyes. Being with Mercedes is probably like the ultimate high, but you can't stay high forever, eventually you'll come crashing back to earth. And what if Quinn's not still there when you land?"

"I'm married to her Santana," Sam said falling back to lean against the arm of the couch, the impact of her words suddenly making him feel unsteady on his feet. "She stuck by me, waiting for me to recover. She took care of me, of my daughter. I can't just turn my back on her."

"Quinn's been waiting for you too. You mean so much to her. How can you turn your back on someone that snuck past guards to get into this house just to tell you she loves you?"

Sam looked up at the empty spot where Santana once stood, stunned. That was why she had come to see him tonight?

Sam had suspected that Quinn's feelings ran deep for him, especially after their heartfelt conversation in the nursery, but she never outright said anything to him. Sam could read Quinn fairly well, he had been able to since they were teens, but he didn't want to have to rely on his unconfirmed assessments. For once he wanted solid facts to back up what he knew in his heart. Why couldn't she tell him how she felt? Didn't she know he had been waiting over a decade to hear it? She had to know, and still she'd never spoken the words, never released him from his protracted state of misery.

Quinn loved him, he knew it long before Santana had said a word. He felt it when she looked at him, when she kissed him, the way she said his name, this time Quinn Fabray wanted him as much as he'd always wanted her. Just because she hadn't said the exact words, didn't make it any less true. It hurt to think about the fact that she hadn't been totally honest with him about Mike and the events that led to her losing Beth. It was a side of Quinn he never expected to see, but even though his image of her was totally shaken, and at times felt on the verge of utter collapse, his love for her, that remained, unchanged, solid, forever. He needed to hold on to that faith in their feelings, it was the key to enduring every challenge they faced now and in the future.

Like an alien attack, his mind flashed to Mercedes on his lap, mouthing 'I love yous' all over his neck, his chest, across his lips. It was heady and seductive knowing he was wanted so absolutely and completely. Never had he felt so desired in every way. Santana was right, it was like a drug, and Sam felt himself swiftly succumbing to its illicit control. He had to find a way to snap out of it before he became truly addicted.