Chapter 57

The first time he told Quinn he loved her he was in high school. The feelings he had for her then were so overwhelming, totally consuming that it all came to this explosive head and he had to tell her. So he did, and she said nothing. That didn't discourage him though. Saying I love you was hard, it left you open, and exposed, so Sam tried to put Quinn at ease, make her feel safe enough with him to share her heart. He upped his romantic gestures, hitting a level of sap that he still hadn't managed to live down, and he told her he loved her repeatedly, each time feeling more at ease with the words and the emotion. And still Quinn said nothing. Again that was fine with Sam. Quinn had always been sort of shy. All she needed was time. Then along came Puck and suddenly shy didn't seem like such a plausible excuse any longer. Years had passed and while they kept in touch despite going their separate ways, all talk of love was shoved away. It was easier to just be friends and forget that they were once more to each other. Then the limo crashed and their lives were on the line, and finally Quinn hinted at what Sam had suspected back then, what he had hoped all along. She had felt something like love for him. Quinn didn't say those three little words that night, but she got closer to them than she ever had before. Sam's hopes were renewed and he once again started to believe that what they shared as teens was still there, just under the surface.

Memories hazy, but the emotions so vivid, Sam came out of his coma emboldened with the promise of reconnecting with Quinn. Despite some miscommunication and a bit of distance, they had finally made it to a place where another chance was more than possible, it was actually happening. And now as the hour crept past midnight, the dawn of his 29th birthday, Quinn had let him in, said the words, and it was absolutely awesome. For a moment after she said it and the words penetrated his mind, he was seventeen again, on her front porch, staring at her in the moonlight. All those emotions he had for her then, when she was the first and only person that made him feel anything that strong and that overwhelming, when just looking at her made his heart pound in his chest, and if she kissed him, wow, pure heaven. At seventeen she was everything he wanted and would ever need, Sam couldn't imagine anything better than spending each day with her. All that came back to him tonight as she told him she loved him and kissed him with a passion that he had never quite felt from her before. Birthday wishes do come true it seemed, because Quinn had given him something amazing, definitely a wish granted, except it wasn't what he had asked for at all.

Sam had spent the better part of the night wishing Quinn out of his heart, out of his life, so devastated that she lied about her relationship with Mike, that she looked into his eyes and swore she was holding nothing back, only to find out it was all false, that she was false. He'd imagined Quinn, as she was now, everyone had tried to tell him, even Quinn herself, that life had moved on, even if in his mind it hadn't. Sam wouldn't listen, following his heart had always been his way, and that hadn't changed with his amnesia, he still trusted his gut, his heart to lead him in the right direction, and his heart led him straight to Quinn. Sure he could see some physical changes in her, he could tell Quinn had a baby, and he could see some of the lines that the stress of her illness caused, but none of that took away from her full picture, from the essence of her, and for Sam she was the same Quinn she always was. Yet now he could see she wasn't. What else had he missed in his fervent denial, what signs had he ignored so that he could keep Quinn as she was in his mind?

"You're bringing up Mercedes?" Quinn's voice lured him out of his thoughts. He had forgotten she was there, beside him, loving him. "She doesn't have anything to do with this."

"She's my wife," he said blandly.

There was nothing more to say beyond that. Mercedes always popped into his head, especially when he didn't want her to, for that very reason. She was the woman he married and he couldn't ignore it.

"And? She didn't matter to you last night. She didn't even matter to you a few hours ago."

Quinn was upset with him, understandably so, she had just taken them to a new level in their relationship and he was ruining the moment with talk of wives.

Sam tried to explain, though he wasn't sure anything he could say would make it better for Quinn at this point. What she wanted from him, a passionate response, declarations of love in return, just couldn't happen, at least not tonight, not when his mom was outside the door probably still crying over something that Quinn had done to his daughter.

Sam had tried to push aside his thoughts about what Quinn had said in the foyer. He had perfected the art of denial and it was coming in handy tonight, but even he had his limits, and despite his best efforts the time of blissful ignorance was coming fast to an end.

"A few hours ago I was still pretending that she didn't mean anything to me. I had somehow managed to convince myself that my wife and my nurse were two separate people. My nurse was this gift that dropped into my life that I had to leave behind when I was discharged from the hospital. Then my wife, this person I didn't know, I treated like shit and ignored in the hope that she would just go away. But she never left and the more time I spent with her I could see my delusions weren't working. She's one person and I hadn't left anything behind."

No wonder Puck had been laughing at him, probably Will, Mike, his father, even Kurt, they all could see what he couldn't, that his attempts to deny Mercedes were failing miserably.

"Why are you telling me this now? We should be talking about us. I just told you how I feel about you."

Sam could tell Quinn was distressed. She was probably confused by this sudden about face especially now after all she had just said to him. It was just typical of them, their timing never seemed to be right.

"I know and that was so amazing to hear. I'm sort of floating from it still, but this is not just about us. You said it yourself last night. I'm not free and you don't want to be my mistress. I get it now, overhearing some things at the party, seeing a little of your press conference. I know the media has been very harsh with you."

The whispers that died as he walked by, all night he'd heard them. People wondering about his marriage, about his daughter, about what was going on with Quinn. From what Sam could piece together it was clear most people thought that he was still having an affair and that Mercedes was faking it with him for the cameras. Although no one had ever said anything of the sort to his face, every guest he spoke to had welcomed him back to health with a smile and wished him endless happiness with his wife. It was only when they thought he wasn't listening did their real opinions surface. Seemed like the citizens of Lima thought he and Quinn were carrying on a torrid affair right under Mercedes' nose, and that photo from the hotel confirmed it all.

"Well that was before." She looped her arm through his, leaning against his shoulder. "You're back now. We can face it all together."

His beautiful Quinn, trying so hard to find the positive in their profoundly bleak circumstances, Sam used to love that about her, how she could craft such wonderful dreams from something that was dark and void.

"I need a drink," said Sam untangling himself from her and walking around the desk to take a seat in the large leather upholstered chair. "Do you want a drink?" He opened the lower drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. "Dad always keeps his stash hidden in here, only the good stuff for his secret meetings."

Quinn shook her head looking apprehensive. "We're not supposed to…"

"There are lots of things we're not supposed to do," said Sam filling one glass almost to the brim and the other half way. "I'm not supposed to be in love with you when I've made promises to someone else, took vows, but here I am hopeless. Let's drink to hopeless." Taking a gulp from his glass not waiting for a toast, he handed Quinn hers.

Quinn took the glass he offered. "Sam we're not hopeless. I think I had it all wrong last night. I should've believed in you. We can make this work."

"Sure we can make things work if I'm willing to be a scumbag," he said scowling into his glass, before drinking some more. The burn of scotch against his throat was like coming home. He missed the warmth that a drink used to give him. "I can sneak around with you, make you feel like a whore."

"You would never make me feel that way." She didn't sound convincing.

"No?" He eyed her over his glass. "You've already accused me of treating you like a mistress more than once tonight."

"I was just upset," she said tucking the hair behind her ears.

Sam could tell she was trying to sound dismissive, as if the subject meant nothing, but he knew otherwise. Quinn had seen him kiss Mercedes a couple times that night and after each encounter she never failed to subtly inform him that he had crossed a line. Maybe it was her passive way of guilting him into keeping the promise he made in the nursery, to use no physical tactics to sway Mercedes. A promise he had failed to uphold more times than even Quinn knew. He hadn't planned on kissing Mercedes, in fact he was hoping his stellar conversational skills and his charm would woo his wife into submission. However things hadn't gone according to his mental script. Mercedes had her own brand of charm and she had freely used it on him all night.

"You were right Quinn. You would be my mistress if we were together now. There will be other parties, family events, business dinners and every single time I would have to take Mercedes and not you. If a journalist poked a mic in my face I would be forced to speak glowingly about my wife and my marriage, just like I did tonight and you would barely rate a mention."

He'd actually done it with surprising ease, playing the part to perfection, as much as he resisted for weeks, once he was forced to be the doting husband, it was effortless. Mercedes followed his cues, hit all the right notes, and they put on a synchronized happy face for all of Lima. Although he was past questioning the validity of his marriage by this point, if he had any doubts left they were completely cleared during the party. He had been married to Mercedes, no question. She knew him in ways only a wife would, and as much as it pained him to think it, she knew him in ways that even Quinn didn't.

"Sam, why are you being like this?" Quinn placed her drink on the desk, untouched. "It's like you're deliberately being cruel?"

"I'm being honest for the first time since I woke up. I've seen the light you were trying to show me last night. My father won. There's no way out. Drink up Quinn," he said nudging the glass back toward her.

Quinn ignored his gesture and came around the desk to him, spinning his chair so he was forced to face her. "Please don't say that. Don't let your father stand in our way and definitely don't let Mercedes hold us back. She's not what she seems. She's a user and a gold digger and a-"

"Don't! Don't even say that about her." He got up brushing past Quinn, grabbing the bottle of scotch from the desk as he left. "She fucking saved me tonight."

"You don't have to be so rude," said Quinn sniffling somewhere behind him.

He cringed at the sound of her tears. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings, he just didn't want to go down the road she was heading.

"Sorry," he said his back to her. "I just don't want you talking about her like that."

Not after everything that Mercedes did for him, he couldn't stand to hear her ripped in any way. She was standing by him, through all of this mess, with so much grace. It was inconceivable that he had done anything in his life to deserve to be married to someone like her. All he had done since he woke up, since he met her from what he had been told, was hurt her, and yet she loved him anyway. What had he done to earn such loyalty?

"I wish I could stop talking about Mercedes forever." The tears were replaced by anger and something about that switch set him off.

"Fine!" Sam slammed the bottle on the desk, then after emptying his glass he slammed it down beside it. "You want to stop talking about Mercedes? Let's do that. Why don't we talk about something else? Like say," he hesitated, his head spinning briefly. "Let's talk about you and what you did to Beth. Are you ready to go there now Quinn? Because that's what we should be talking about anyway."

"Sam, I think you've had too much to drink. You're getting out of control."

"Oh you don't want me to stop drinking Quinn. It's the only thing keeping me together right now. You think this is out of control? Take away my scotch and find out how much I'm actually holding back."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. You're letting Mercedes ruin everything."

"Mercedes?" He laughed bitterly with a shake of his head. "She hasn't done a thing wrong. All she's done is take care of me and Beth."

"Oh my God! If you're jumping back on the Mercedes ass kissing train, count me out. I can't listen to any more of that. Mercedes is deceitful and manipulative and if it wasn't for your money, she'd probably be long gone by now. But go ahead Sam, keep kissing her ass, believing she's the only one that loves you. I guess how I feel isn't good enough, since you have barely even acknowledged-"

"What the hell Quinn! I've spent years telling you I loved you only to hear nothing in return. So now after all this time you decide to bless me with those words and you're actually mad at me because of my reaction?"

"It's all about Mercedes! I'm the one that said it, not her."

Clenching his hands into fists, he mentally counted to ten, trying to keep his temper in check. As he waited for the red behind his eyes and the throbbing in his ears to dissipate, he watched her silently fuming. Wrong move, the sight of her pissed him off even more.

"Quinn I'm sorry let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much you mean to me. How about right here on this desk?" Sam plowed the contents of his father's desk onto the floor with the sweep of his arm, pictures and papers hitting the floor around them. He reached toward the computer when Quinn stopped him, grabbing his arm. "What's wrong Quinn?" he asked stroking her hand that held him. "You don't want to make love on my father's desk? Can't you just picture his reaction if he ever found out?"

Slowly stalking around the desk, keeping contact, until he was in front of her. Pulling her against him he let his hands slide down her curves, paying special attention to the sides of her breasts.

"Stop it," she said pushing him away, tears in her eyes. "You're being a jerk."

His stomach dropped. Sam never could stand to see Quinn cry, especially when he was the one that made her do it.

"I know." He looked at the mess on the floor and sighed. "I'm sorry. I lost control."

"Maybe if you'd stop drinking."

"Maybe." Braving her face, he looked at her, wiping away the streak of tears that marred her face with the pad of his thumb. "I'm sorry," he said again. "But she's been good to me Quinn. Good to us. She's my anam cara."

She pressed a hand against his chest and held it there, almost as if she were gauging the tempo of his heart. "Yeah I know she's helped us. So what does anam cara mean? Savior? Angel of mercy?"

"It means soul friend technically. Like a kindred spirit," said Sam ignoring her sarcasm. "Actually it means more than that, in my family at least. Before I married Brittany, my dad told me that I needed more than a wife, that I needed an anam cara to share my life with, someone that would get me, understand the business, be loyal. Probably the closest he ever came to being sentimental in his life, but I kept those words with me and I hoped Brittany would be that person, however unlikely."

"She wasn't?" Quinn asked.

"No. I knew she carried Santana in her heart. She wasn't all mine. Besides I had always thought my anam cara was you," he said running his hand through her hair.

"But I was with Puck." Her head lifted and her remarkable eyes sparkled with surprise. It was endearing how much she didn't seem to understand about the depths of his feelings for her.

"Didn't matter, I knew you were the one for me. I see now I was so wrong though." Sam downed the last of his glass and then quickly refilled it. His chest tightened as he thought about what he had just said. It was so hard for him to believe that things had changed, always it had been Quinn, the constant unfilled wish in his heart. "I had to have been. You had no clue what anam cara meant, that means I never shared it with you."

"I told you we weren't together all these years." Even with a curtain of hair shielding her face, hiding the pain written there, Sam could still see it. Quinn wanted to be the one.

"I know, but I said it to Mercedes at our wedding. I wouldn't have said that to her if I still felt that way about you, and the fact that I felt that about her." On a sigh he looked upward, at a loss from where to go from here. "I don't know. Things make more sense now."

If only he could rewind to a time when he believed Quinn was all he would ever need, but he wasn't a magician, and he realized that there would be no escape from what appeared to be indisputably true. He had felt something for Mercedes that he never had for Quinn. The realization was startling and disturbing, casting a shadow over all he had believed since coming to. Mercedes seemingly was his chosen one, his kindred spirit, his soulmate. So why had he forgotten her and woke up loving Quinn?

"What things?"

"Like why she has control over my affairs, and why she has Beth, and why she saved us tonight."

Agreeing to help them had been the final act, the answer to the questions that plagued him for weeks. Why she was still there when all he'd done was cause her pain? A single sentence and he finally knew. She had pledged herself to him and he'd done the same back during a time he couldn't remember.

"How did she save us?"

"I told Mercedes the whole truth and I asked her to help me keep you free, and she agreed."

"She's not going to divorce you?"

"Nope she's going to help me keep up appearances with my dad. She totally blew me away when she said she'd do that. I didn't even know what to say."

Utterly speechless then and still tongue tied now, Mercedes had given him the one thing he wanted the most, hurting herself in the process, all because she loved him. It killed him that he didn't feel the same for her. She deserved someone to love her unselfishly and completely. He wanted that for her, he needed her to have that.

"Funny I can think of quite a few things, like for one I don't trust her. Why would Mercedes do anything to help me?"

"For Beth, so she can have her mom, and she can have her family back together."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, maybe she did it for Beth a little bit, but something tells me this was all for your benefit. She's up to something."

"When did you get so cynical? I thought that was my role. Mercedes is helping us. That's a good thing."

"Yeah that's good but you're acting like she's the patron saint of generosity. Other people are on our side too like Artie. He helped us tonight when he kissed me."

"You kissed your attorney?"

He asked the question but really he wasn't surprised. Men were always coming on to Quinn. In high school, Sam had expended endless amounts of jealous energy confronting other guys that dared to look at his girlfriend. Eventually he learned to suck it up and let them look. He was the one she wanted to be with, at least he was until Puck showed up.

Quinn's smile grew as she recounted her story. "No he kissed me to throw off Kitty Wilde. I ran into Kitty and she was making cracks about us having an affair so Artie stepped up and kissed me in front of her and made her think we were a couple."

"Such a gentleman to sacrifice his honor and associate himself with you. Sounds like I owe him a drink."

"I'm being serious. Kitty could have made real trouble for us, but now that she thinks I am with Artie we're safe. Half of Lima probably knows now thanks to her. Which means we won't be suspected of anything scandalous when we're seen alone together from now on."

She seemed pretty impressed with Artie and their little diversionary plot. Too bad none of it was necessary. Being caught alone with Quinn after tonight was the last thing he planned to do.

"I saw Kitty too. She hasn't changed much. She talked about you."

"Do I even want to know?"

"She told me about all the gossip at my wedding and how you stood by my decision to marry Mercedes, you stood up for me, defended my relationship. I thought that was so cool and just like you. You always were so supportive."

She threaded her fingers through his. "That's because I've always been on your side."

"I know and thank you for that. But I have to wonder, why aren't you standing up for me and Mercedes now?"

Sam couldn't understand her negative reaction to all of this. Mercedes was helping them, it was what they had hoped for, the whole reason they had developed a plan in the first place. Jealousy couldn't really be clouding Quinn from seeing the good here. There had to be something more going on with her.

She let go of his hand and ran her fingers through the front of her hair, pushing it out of her face. "So much has changed since your wedding. I didn't know then all the ways she would hurt you. I have a hard time trusting her after everything that's happened."

So Quinn was being protective of him, which was sweet, but totally unnecessary. He didn't need to be shielded from Mercedes. Now that he had stopped and taken the time to actually get to know Mercedes, paying attention to her instead of pushing her away, he could see she wasn't out to hurt him at all. She wasn't in his life to take his money or as part of some elaborate con, Mercedes was simply there because she loved him.

"Mercedes' motives are pure."

"No one's that selfless, I don't care how much she loves our daughter. She hates me, pretty openly."

"Sounds like the feeling's mutual."

"I don't hate her. I just hate that she gets to be around Beth and I don't. Your family and the media praise her, and I am the one trashed. She's done her fair share of dirt in her life but I haven't seen her pay for any of it. Ever think maybe she fits in with your family because she's just like them? She's far from innocent. She has this whole other side."

"What other side?" A chill ran through him. Santana had hinted at something similar when she was talking about Mercedes too. Was there a darker reason why she seemed to be accepted by his family?

"I'm so tired of talking about Mercedes," she said throwing her arms up. "I ended up in the psych ward, lost my child, my reputation is destroyed and she has done just as much wrong as I have and nothing happens to her. She still has it all. She has my baby, she has her perfect little nursing career, and she has…never mind."

"What were you going to say?"

"How is it that she can file for divorce, put you out of your house, cause a car accident, all while being involved with another man and still she ends up with you."

"I don't remember her though, I think that might be a pretty hefty payment for her supposed crimes."

"Supposed crimes? Last night you were accusing her of the same things, now what you don't blame her for anything anymore?"

"I've gotten to know her better since then. I didn't want to see it before because I was so worried about you, and myself, but she's going through as much as we are. I think we had the kind of relationship where I was everything to her, the center of her world, you know? I'm thinking my coma and now this amnesia have really destroyed her life."

It probably was wrong to bring all this up with Quinn, her jealousy now was as prominent as the color of her eyes, but even with all the ways Quinn had disillusioned him tonight, distorted his image of her and their relationship, she still was the one person he trusted to be real with him. She said they were best friends. Telling her about the things he had been struggling with seemed natural. It still felt like he could tell her anything, even if she was no longer doing the same.

"Mercedes is stronger than she looks. She spent years on her own, practically raised herself. She just wants you think she's lost without you."

Quinn spilled that info so casually as if it wasn't appalling and incredibly sad to think of someone living that way. He was quite surprised by her lack of compassion, given her own troubled upbringing.

"She's proven herself to me. I know she loves me."

Quinn visibly flinched and he instantly regretted his words. Hurting Quinn wasn't something he wanted to do, but she wasn't listening to him, and he felt compelled to convince her Mercedes wasn't a threat, so that maybe she'd cut her some slack and back off with her comments. Being in the middle of two feuding women was the last place he wanted to be, but the way it seemed now, that was how it was going to be. Nothing he had said had changed Quinn's opinion of Mercedes.

"And you know this how? Because she threw you a party, and agreed to help you with the deal? Can't you see how those deeds just serve her needs to help her look better in your eyes? She's playing you Sam."

Irritated and tense, her face strained, every muscle in her body on edge as she was clearly fighting for control. She was ready to blow up and Sam knew he should probably drop the subject of Mercedes, but he was an idiot with an overactive mouth, so he kept talking.

"I trust her. My gut says she really cares."

Sam spotted the wedding photo of him with Mercedes and his parents on the floor. He retrieved it from the mess of papers and set it back in its spot on the desk. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful to let it stay on the floor, discarded and forgotten. That pretty much summed up the way he had treated Mercedes for the past few weeks, something he wasn't proud of and wished he could take back. Even though he didn't remember her and didn't want to be with a woman that was essentially a stranger, he still was a married man and he needed to find a way to honor his vows. Picking up the picture felt like a step in the right direction.

"What is going on Sam? Mercedes agrees to help you with one thing and suddenly you're her biggest fan? I thought you wanted to be with me."

Pain was evident in her eyes and the urge to do anything to wipe it away, to make her feel better overwhelmed him. Placing his drink on the desk, he went to her and hugged her close. She burrowed into his arms, embracing him tighter, letting out a contented sigh in his ear.

"I do want to be with you Quinn," he said against her hair. He wanted that so much, but it was getting harder to believe it would actually happen. So much was in their way.

"It feels like things are changing. You're going on and on about her, like she's your new trusty sidekick, when it was supposed to be you and me in this together, not you, me and her."

"It kind of always was the three of us though," he said loosening his hold. His drink was beckoning him from the desk. "If Mercedes decides to leave me, it's over. You're going back upstate. I needed her to save you and she came through big time. I can't ignore that. What she's doing means something to me."

In the end Quinn was the one to let go, pushing him away from her body.

"But what does it mean for us?" she asked wrapping her arms around herself. "You're acting different with me now."

"I don't think you can blame Mercedes for what's changed here. You've been less than honest with me. It's going to take time to get back from that."

"You don't seem to need time to get over it with Mercedes. She didn't tell you about your marriage or Beth, yet here you are talking about her like she's the perfect wife."

"Well she was advised by my doctors…."

"Right the doctors, they make a pretty good excuse for her to keep quiet. She has so many secrets, so many things she's done, and you don't have a clue."

"What don't I know?"

"Let me refresh you on something that you forgot after the crash, Mercedes was going to leave you at the altar for another man."

"I know all that Quinn. Mercedes told me everything."

"What you don't know is how hurt you were. You came to my door a wreck, already drunk, staggering, and told me your wife was in love with another man. Then you sat on my couch with tears in your eyes, ready to end it all in, because of her. And there was nothing I could do to help you. All I could do was hold you and tell you things would get better, but honestly Sam, I wasn't sure if they would. I had never seen you so messed up before. So don't tell me that your gut knows best. It doesn't."

It sounded like him. He had raided his father's wine cellar, stealing as many bottles as he could carry, and hid out in his room getting drunk out of his mind after Quinn left him for Puck. So finding out he had been drunk and reckless over Mercedes and some other guy was no surprise.

"All of that might have been true, but obviously I found a way to get over it."

"I don't see how."

"Maybe because I had practice? I forgave you didn't I?" he asked as he sipped from his glass.

Her chest rose in anger, her eyes narrowing, and her lips tight. "What happened with Puck was so different than this. I didn't sneak around and hide my feelings from you. And I told you about Mike back then too. So don't you dare compare me to her." She looked like she wanted to hit him.

"I guess you're right. I shouldn't compare, things were different. Mercedes actually chose to be with me over the other guy, whereas you didn't, either time. Isn't that right?" He took a seat in his father's chair.

A low blow that was totally uncalled for but he felt he had to point it out. His feelings for Mercedes were complex, uncertainty, concern, begrudging respect all mixed up with an intense attraction. There was so much stewing in his head. At times he wished he could go back to his denial where he could hide behind his hatred and disgust, but he couldn't, not after tonight. Mercedes had chosen him then and now, and that mattered to him, as much as he wished it didn't.

"What the hell happened between you two tonight? One kiss and your whole brain shifted. I don't know how she did it. You are clouded by her, she has some hold over you."

Sam hit the desk with his fist, putting his anger into it. "She doesn't have the hold, you do. I'm here tied up in knots scared to death to hear what really needs to be said about what you did to our baby, talking to you about all these things that aren't even important anymore. We're bickering about Mercedes and my father's deal when there's something huge between us."

So much for keeping his temper in check, now that he started yelling he knew he would have a hard time stifling it. Quinn never did take his outbursts well, recoiling from him or wincing as if his words had a physical impact. His anger didn't turn her on the way it seemed to with Mercedes.

"You spilled your drink," she said wiping at the newly wet spot on his leg.

Sam fanned her off not wanting to be touched. "Good maybe it will wake me up. I've been living in this dream world for far too long. You and I aren't going to be together. We're not going to be a family."

Everything was falling apart before his eyes. He couldn't keep up the charade he constructed much longer, reality was starting to bleed through. And the real was too much, Mercedes and Quinn hated each other, there were huge chunks missing from his life, his family was coddling and tiptoeing around him, and his daughter, he couldn't even bring himself to think about what happened to her.

"Yes we are." Quinn knelt on the floor in front of him, between his legs. "Our dreams will come true I know it."

"How do you know that Quinn?"

Taking both his hands she guided him to the floor with her, inching them slowly under the desk on their knees. Once completely under, pressed together in the tight space, filled with her, the scent of her hair, the soft curves her body, and her hands on his thigh. Without warning she kissed him, gently on the lips, lingering for a moment before pulling back with a sigh. Resting her head on his shoulder she relaxed, as if they were on a moonlight picnic in the yard instead of under a dark wooden desk in his father's study.

"There are signs. You woke up to my voice and we are here together now. That has to mean something."

He had seen the signs too, believed that they all led them in one direction, to each other. Yet the more he lived in this new world, the less he was certain about. Maybe he had misinterpreted things. Waking up with Quinn could have just been a coincidence, she had merely been there at the right time. The fact that she loved him now, when she never had before could also be explained. Quinn could be lonely, scared, or too caught up in missing him. And his feelings for her, as strong and as consuming as they felt, might just be because of his amnesia. His mind had trapped him in a reality that no longer existed, but if he suddenly were cured would he still feel the same for her? Then there was Beth, there was no denying the little miracle they made together was a sign of something. But was she a sign that they were meant to be? Right now Beth was being raised by Mercedes and Quinn had no claim to her. How were they going to make a family when they were so separate from each other? Maybe it was the scotch, the lateness of the hour, or that the words Quinn said in the foyer about trying to kill their baby that kept playing in his head, but suddenly all of his optimism was gone. A pit was before him, urging him to jump and discover the truths hidden in its depths. There seemed to be nowhere else to go but down.

"We are here now because out of the blue you decided to sneak into my house and tell me you loved me after ten freaking years. Why did you pick tonight? Because the moon was full, because it was my birthday or was it because you knew Mercedes would be here and it would hurt her somehow?"

As happy as he was to hear her admit she loved him, something about it burned him too. Why did she wait so long to say it? Why did she choose to do it now after he spent the entire night in the company of his wife? It might have been wrong to blame Quinn, she had always been shy with her emotions around him, perhaps he should have been yelling skyward at the gods for making his life such hell. Only a spiteful god, one that derived some evil pleasure from his torment, would have Quinn finally say she loved him on the same night that he decided not to let go of his wife.

It had happened quite unexpectedly, even after spending a fun first date with Mercedes, he still hadn't lost sight of his ultimate goals. Enjoying his wife's company wasn't enough to push Quinn out of his heart, even when he was so upset over her. It was when he was backed into a corner, forced to reveal all the specifics of his agreement with his father in the hopes that somehow he could convince her to help him that everything changed. Shattered in the dusty pool house, her eyes gleaming with tears, all had seemed lost as she denied him and told him she couldn't pretend to be his wife when he wanted Quinn. And that was the end, everything was over, he would have to go to his father defeated and admit that he couldn't hold up the deal and Quinn would have to go back upstate. It was devastating and Sam couldn't imagine how he would ever find a way to break such news to Quinn. But then his little wife had surprised him, stepping into the role he had glimpsed a few times in her actions, loyal, supportive, his. When Mercedes put him first and agreed to help him after all, Sam had been elated at the news. He had lifted her off her feet, spun her in a circle, hugged her until she begged to be released. What she had done meant everything to him, there really were no words to describe how touched he was.

Then in the midst of his happiness he saw it, the sadness she was trying to hide. It was killing her to do this for him and she didn't want him to know. Nine months she had waited, patiently by his side, tirelessly taking care of him and then later his child. She'd spent nights with him curled up in his hospital bed, taken extra classes to learn about his condition, put every part of her life on hold all for him. And now he was rewarding her by asking her to live a lie. He was a real selfish bastard for even thinking any part of that was okay.

The thing about being anam cara is that it's a two way street, a balanced partnership where each person has the other's back no matter what. If roles were reversed he would have been the one waiting and praying for months. She sacrificed nine months of her life for him yet he couldn't be bothered to do the same? Suddenly his father's crazy deal made a whole lot more sense. It restored the balance, it kept them bonded, but only if it were real, only if he meant it. That's why his dad had included all the conditions about having a real marriage and not sneaking around with Quinn. He was trying to keep Sam honest and true to the vows he had made a year ago. When had his father developed this kind, thoughtful streak where he valued marriage and plotted to uphold it?

So as Mercedes watched him play with his nieces and nephew and dance with his mom, letting her smile drop as soon as she thought no one was looking, Sam had decided he wasn't willing to live a lie either. He was going to stay in his marriage, really try, not just for the deal, but for Mercedes, and for himself. It was like Quinn had said, they weren't liars and cheats, they were better than that. They had to be. For Beth. The decision was easy once he faced the truth. The hard part was going to be telling Quinn. He had planned to give himself one night to work up the nerve. Now it seemed he wouldn't need it after all. There would be nothing to say about the deal and his marriage if Quinn had done the unthinkable.

"I didn't even know about the party until Santana told me. I came here only for you. I risked everything, running into Mercedes, ruining your father's deal, just to see you."

"Quinn what are we doing? We can't hide anymore. Don't you see? The deal doesn't matter if you really need to be locked up. I'll drive you back upstate myself if you really are a threat to my child."

"You don't mean that. You're letting your mom influence you or maybe Mercedes. They both want me out of your life."

He wrapped his arm around her, the only way he had to give her some sense of protection. He hated how detested she felt. It was something she seemed to have struggled with all her life, acceptance. He knew life before coming to Lima hell for her, but then things had gotten better from what Sam could recall. But now with the small glimpses he had of the media and his family's attitudes, it was worse for her than ever. Yet this time it was starting to feel like some of what had fallen on her was warranted. She had done something to turn so many against her this way, and Sam feared to his core that he was about to become one of the masses that spurned her. Everything inside of him was screaming not to let that happen, as his mind scrambled to find a way out of this mess.

"I've been in here with you for the past hour desperately trying to hang on to what we have. I can barely wrap my mind around the idea that you could have done something to Beth, but then on the other hand I am starting to feel like a complete idiot because I've known something was off all along. I've just been praying that it was some weird side effect of my coma and nothing based in reality, because this isn't you, Quinn. How could you have hurt Beth?"

"It's not like you think, just let me explain," she said as she backed away from him as far as the confines of the desk would allow.

If only he could reach the scotch that was on the desk above them, that would ease this pain, or if Mercedes would appear. She'd know what to do to soothe his head and make the red disappear from behind his eyes. For the first time since leaving the hospital he truly missed her and the most shocking of all, he was craving her company with Quinn right next to him. Further proof that Quinn was becoming someone unrecognizable, a woman he didn't know. The Quinn he loved was fading before him replaced by this apparition in red, red like blood, like his fear.

"I don't want you to explain. I want it not to be true. Tell me it's not true, then we can go back to all our plans. Getting together tonight at the Beacon, celebrating how Mercedes agreed to help us out, how we are on the right path to building our life, our family. Did you know when I came out into the foyer before and found you with my mother, I was actually coming to look for you?"

Sam reached for Quinn, dragging her back against his side. With his arms around her, he held her close, shutting his eyes as she leaned her head on his shoulder once more. Like this she still felt real, like the Quinn he always knew. If only he could keep her this way, nestled beside him, her arms around his waist, surrounded by her, maybe then he'd know things would be okay. They'd make it through this confusion, and back to their dreams of a house with a yard and a swingset for their daughter. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled her scent, filling himself with her warm sunshine. If only he had a way to capture this moment, this feeling, they could remain like this forever, in love, and happy.

"Really?" she asked lifting her head slightly to look up at him.

Sam urged her head back down on his shoulder with a gentle rub of his hand, afraid that if she moved their little cocoon would be destroyed.

"Yes I wanted to tell you the good news about Mercedes. I wanted to apologize to you for acting like an ass all night about Mike. I wanted to tell you that I couldn't wait to spend time with you at the hotel."

For one night it was going to be perfect. They'd celebrate his birthday and their future. Sam had planned to spend the night stroking her hair, talking about their dreams, memorizing every part of her to help him get through the nine months he would have to spend without her.

"You were still going to come? When you shut me out tonight I thought…"

"I know you saw me kiss Mercedes," he said interrupting her. "And I know it must have hurt, a part of me wanted it to hurt you at the time. Maybe you would feel a little of the pain I felt over the years every time I saw you with Puck and tonight when I had to picture you with my own brother."

It was petty but he hadn't been able to help himself, for once he was in the position to hurt her a little bit, let her know what it felt like to be on the outside, filled with jealousy. The tables had turned and Sam wasn't able to resist pushing her buttons.

"Sam I'm so sorry," she said against him.

"You don't have to apologize Quinn, not about that. I was being immature and a jerk. It doesn't matter about who you were with before, all that matters is now. And Mercedes, I was going to clear that up for you too, because I know you are a little jealous of her, and I wanted you to know that you had no reason to be."

"But you just told me you liked her." Quinn sat up, her knees pressed against his thigh in the tight space.

"I do like her, she gets to me, but she's not you. I tried to forget you all night, put you out of my mind, and just be her husband. And it worked for a while, I felt what it was like to be hers. It was surprisingly nice. She's so sweet but fiery too, with all that attitude and mouth. I can't deny I let her in tonight, I let her get close again, like at the hospital, but it couldn't erase you," he said squeezing her knee. "No matter how much I wished you away, and God knows I wished that so hard tonight because I was hurt, but you never went away. You're still right here in my heart," he said placing his hand on his chest. "And every part of me loves you. I missed you tonight, and we were under the same roof, but being without you felt so wrong."

"Sam I feel the same way. Being without you feels wrong to me too. I love you."

Quinn kissed him again, smiles on their lips, eyes fluttering shut, just them, melting away the rest of the world, the dark cloud above them disappeared and all that remained was the feel of his hands in her hair, her arms around his neck, and her tongue sweeping against his. He gave into the feeling the way he hadn't before, pushing down the images of Mercedes' sad brown eyes that were trying to invade the moment. He could make this only about Quinn, the way it used to be. She loved him, finally, the very idea of that flooring him once more.

"You said it again," he said smiling, as they broke apart.

"Yeah I did." She dropped her head, a blush on her cheeks, and a smile on her lips.

"Now I know I wasn't dreaming before."

He raised her head so that she would look at him, hoping to see love reflected in those beautiful green eyes. He wasn't disappointed. It was there.

"No dreams, this is very real. I was sort of scared to say it again. I thought you might not want to hear it after all you said before."

"Of course I want to hear it. I hope you never stop saying it, never stop feeling it. But now I need you to say something else. I need you tell me that what you said earlier about hurting Beth isn't true. You were trying to get a reaction from my mother. And my instincts are all haywire from the coma. And those looks everyone gets whenever I mention your name, it's not fear, it's something else, just weirdness right? Just tell me it's not true and we can forget all about it. I can start breathing again."

Sam's heart raced as he watched her squirm beside him. Then she stilled, like a porcelain doll with glass eyes staring straight through him. Everything went dark, and the air in the tiny space thickened, choking his lungs. Silence as she said nothing. Then there were tears and he knew it was done.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, her voice low and hollow, her head falling forward to rest on his arm.

He had been holding his breath and hadn't realized it. All this time waiting for her to say something to him, anything to burst his bubble and end their torture or lift him up and set them free. Either from her would have worked as his head began to pound and his eyes slid closed. He rested his head against the cool wood of the interior of the desk. This was no longer a place of solace, he realized, his torment was within, there was no running from it. Quinn's head on his arm felt like a weight imprisoning him under the desk forcing him to remain in hell.

"Quinn no." Sam crawled from under the desk, quickly rising to his feet.

Quinn followed him out, crawling from under the desk, but she did not stand, instead she remained on her knees at his feet. "We can't forget about it Sam because it's all true."

"Tell me what happened," he said drifting toward the light streaming through the window.

The moon gleamed brightly through the window, and Sam was drawn to its light. There seemed to be a message in the sky tonight, the stars and the moon illuminating his path to the truth.

"I don't even know how to start I've been trying to figure out how to tell you this since you came to get me last night."

"Seems there were a lot of things you didn't know how to tell me," he snapped. "You would think telling me you had a hand in our baby almost dying would be high on your list of disclosures."

Sam held his head between his hands, applying steady pressure to relieve the tension. If he could just squeeze hard enough maybe the throbbing was end and the ringing in his ears would stop. Half a bottle of scotch was nothing to him before, he could drink that and still go on with his day, but tonight it was hitting him hard. The coma must have weakened his tolerance because the room was beginning to slide and the red spots behind his eyes were starting to spread into a mass of color. He wasn't even drunk, at least not that he could tell, but somehow he had skipped the buzz and gone straight to the hangover, which absolutely sucked, but was par for the course for his life right now.

"I wanted to spend some time with you first, without all the drama," she replied shakily.

"You should have told me. You're the one person in this world I trusted completely. Maybe I was an idiot for feeling that way especially after all we've been through, but there was always a link between us, a trust. Where did that go Quinn?"

"We still have that link. Nothing has changed. We're still us right? When you get past the rest, it's still the same with us."

"We haven't been us for a long time," he said refilling his glass. "Once you ran off with Puck everything changed."

"That's not true. We kept in touch, we still talked. We got past all that."

"No, you got past all that, went on tour, moved to New York, I was caught somewhere between here and the desert dreaming of you and trying to make it work with yet another woman that didn't really want me." Sam downed his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He was such a sucker, again. When would he ever learn that women were never what they claimed? "You and I exchanged emails, wrote a few letters but things had definitely changed."

"Maybe you're right, but after that crash it all started to come back. I felt it, and I know you did too."

"Did I? Because according to you I played you for another woman." His hands were shaking, so he stuffed them in his pockets to hide them from view.

"Sam, don't do this. Don't tear away at everything that is good and solid between us."

She was crying and for the first time in forever he didn't care. Sam welcomed her tears, they were the least she could give him after all this. A part of him was enjoying that she was starting to crack in front of him, her constant cool exterior was unnerving. He was a mess, hands shaking, head throbbing, and she looked as beautiful as ever. It wasn't right. Their daughter had suffered, some fate he still wasn't quite clear on, and Quinn barely seemed like she cared. Where were her emotions, the remorse, the guilt?

"I think it was torn already and I just couldn't see it."

"Our friendship is what kept me whole during my PPD, even with you in a coma just thinking about you gave me strength."

"How can you sit there and lie to me again Quinn?"

"I'm not lying. I felt all of that for you," she said reaching out to him from the floor.

If she touched him he would lose it. Never had he wanted so much distance from her before, not even when he had fled to the Army. She made his stomach churn and his head hurt with her perfect line of tears that streamed down her cheek. Her face wasn't flushed, her nose wasn't red, besides her glistening eyes she looked flawless.

"I was your strength? I kept you whole? You were sick Quinn! There was nothing whole about you."

Sam wasn't sure which one of them was more delusional. He had actually let himself believe he had been some otherworldly source of strength for her during that time. None of it was true. They both had manufactured all of this, wanting so badly to find a reason to be together again, while ignoring the very real obstacles. But the truth was that he was trapped in a bed while she was losing her mind.

"Maybe I wasn't myself but…"

He cut her off, not willing to hear any more excuses. Everything she said was starting to sound like lies to him. "My mother said she thought you were going to leave the house with the baby."

"She's exaggerating. I just wanted to hold her and kiss her goodnight. Maybe she thought CPS would find out and that's why she said that."

"Ok so angry I would get," he said roughly running his hand through his cropped hair. "She already warned us about breaking CPS rules, but she wasn't mad, she was scared. My mom doesn't scare easily. It would take a whole lot to rattle her, and she was rattled in the foyer Quinn. So why was my mom so scared?"

"Sam your mom was trying to make me look bad. She has it out for me. If we just can talk about-"

"What did you do to my daughter?" he asked unwilling to pause for her benefit. He didn't care about her mental state. He needed to know.

"Sam you have to know I didn't mean to do it." Quinn tucked the same piece of hair behind her ear repeatedly. Her ear turned red as she continued her frantic motions. "I just…my mind…Look at this mess," she said, looking at the contents of the desk that surrounded her on the floor. Suddenly she started to stack the papers on the floor into piles. "Your dad's going to flip."

"I can't stand any more of this." Sam grabbed her under her arms and pulled her roughly to her feet. "You tell me what you did or I'm going to open the door and let my mom tell her version."

Quinn shivered in his arms, unable to look him in the eyes. "I left her alone."

"I don't want a rehash of what we talked about upstairs!" he yelled pushing her away from him in disgust. He wanted details not excuses. "I want you to tell me what my mom was so upset about in the foyer."

"I left her alone another time, in the dark, in the cold…" Her words distorted, sounding garbled because of her tears, but Sam didn't need to understand what she was saying, he already knew.

"In the snow," he said finishing her sentence.

Beth wasn't blue from drowning, she was blue from the cold, frozen and lifeless. Spots formed in front of Sam's eyes so he shut them trying to steady himself. He couldn't let his body fade out again, he had to see this through, to the end.

"Yes I left her in the snow, but you don't understand. I had to do it. I did it all for you and for Beth."

Sam stared at her his vision blurring as he struggled to find the Quinn he always knew in this crying heap in a red dress. She had broken down completely, sobbing into the crook of her arm. Not the hysterical whimpers that Mercedes had displayed at the hospital, Quinn was more controlled than that, but clearly she was unraveling before his eyes. Sam couldn't bring himself to make a move toward her, when somewhere in his mind he knew that's what he should have done. He should be cradling Quinn in his arms and plying her with reassurances, but instead he simply watched, sickened yet enthralled by her tears.

"I want to see where you left her," he said calmly taking another sip of scotch.

"It's late and it's dark," she said sniffling back tears and shaking her head.

"It was dark when you left Beth alone wasn't it?" Now there was a reaction. She turned a shade paler. "I want to see what it was like for my daughter." Sam put down his glass and grabbed Quinn by the elbow, heading toward the door. "Take me to the place now."

Anam Cara refers to the Celtic spiritual belief of souls connecting and bonding.

In Celtic Spiritual tradition, it is believed that the soul radiates all about the physical body, what some refer to as an aura. When you connect with another person and become completely open and trusting with that individual, your two souls begin to flow together. Should such a deep bond be formed, it is said you have found your Anam Cara or soul friend.