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Amnesia Pt.3

The waiting room was filled with tense silence as everyone sat in uncomfortable anticipation. Sam sat with Stevie, Garrett, his wife Quinn, Amelia, and her husband Jake, along with the Jones family and Sam's parents. It was the first time they had all been together since Mercedes had been taken down for her MRI, and the air was thick with unease.

Mercedes' father, Richard, ran his hands through his hair in frustration, his gaze bouncing between Sam and Stevie. He finally broke the silence, his voice heavy with frustration. "Alright, someone needs to tell me what exactly happened, because none of this makes any sense. The accident wasn't anyone's fault, so why is Stevie taking all the blame?"

Sam's jaw clenched as he looked over at his brother. "Go ahead, Stevie. Tell him."

"Sam…" Mary said, touching his leg to calm him.

Nodding, Sam exhaled, crossing his hands over his arms.

Stevie shook his head, his eyes darting away from his brother's piercing gaze. "Before the accident," Stevie began hesitantly, "Mercedes got upset with me."

Mercedes' mother, Marilyn, frowned and turned to Sam. "Sam? What does he mean?"

Sam exhaled sharply, his frustration barely contained. "Mercedes and I walked in on Stevie in his office… with another woman."

The room erupted in shocked gasps and murmurs. Stevie jumped up, defensive. "It wasn't like that!" he protested. "Penny is an old friend—she stopped by unexpectedly and started talking about how I was making a mistake. She said Mercedes wasn't the one for me, and then—"

"And then she kissed you," Sam interrupted, his voice cutting through Stevie's explanation. "We walked in just in time to see it."

"I didn't kiss her back!" Stevie shot back, his face red with anger and embarrassment.

Sam let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"It should matter! She should have stayed instead of running away!" Steven said.

"I know you're ass didn't just blame my sister." Garrett, who had been sitting quietly, said as he suddenly stood, his fists clenched.

His wife, Quinn, grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Garrett, no," she said firmly, though her own anger was visible in her tense expression.

Garrett growled, his eyes boring into Stevie. "That woman had no place in your office. You let her cause this mess."

Stevie's jaw tightened as he looked around the room, his voice rising. "I can't change what happened! But Mercedes needs to know the truth—that she and Sam are nothing! So we can fix this."

"No," Amelia said firmly, cutting through the rising tension. She stood, facing Stevie with an unwavering gaze. "We've already agreed that until Mercedes remembers, we're not forcing anything on her. My family knows what is best for her. You need to deal with that, Stevie."

The room fell silent again, the weight of Amelia's words hanging heavily in the air. Stevie sank back into his seat, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Richard leaned back, letting out a long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're here for Mercedes," he said finally. "Nothing else matters right now. She will heal, and once her memory is back, should she want you, that's her choice."

Sam sat quietly, his hands clenched into fists in his lap, silently vowing to make sure his brother deserved her because, at the moment, he didn't think he did.

Dr. Carter emerged into the waiting room, his expression lighter than before. "Good news," he announced, drawing everyone's attention. Mercedes' MRI looks good, and her tests all came back normal. She's doing well and is cleared to go home, provided she has someone with her to monitor her recovery. She'll need to wear a knee brace for the next few months, and her bruised ribs will take time to heal, but otherwise, she's in good shape."

A collective sigh of relief passed through the room.

Steven stood quickly, nodding as he spoke. "She'll come home with me. I'll take care of her."

Garrett let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "No way in hell that's happening," he said, his tone resolute. "She can go home with me."

Sam sighed. "Garret, your place is a two-story house, and her apartment is on the third floor, with no stairs, so you can't stay at her place. The only places would be Amelia's, Steven's, or mine since your parents also have that massive house. I vote Amelia."

Before Steven could respond, Amelia interjected, "I agree with Sam. Mercedes can stay with Jake and me. We have the space, and it's a ranch. She'll also be surrounded by family."

Without waiting for further discussion, the group began moving toward Mercedes' room.

They found Mercedes sitting up in bed with a soft smile as they entered. Her eyes lit up as she saw her family walk in. They rushed to her side, hugging her gently, careful of her injuries.

"Hey, sweetheart," Marilyn said, smoothing her daughter's hair. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Mercedes replied, her voice warm. "Just sore, but it's nice to see everyone."

As the family stepped back, Quinn moved forward, smiling brightly. "Hi, Mercedes. I'm Quinn—your best friend and sister-in-law."

Mercedes tilted her head, studying Quinn before a grin broke across her face. "Oh, so you're family-family? Nice to meet you."

Next, Jake introduced himself, offering a polite smile. Mercedes gave him an approving look, smirking as her gaze flicked to Amelia. "Girl, he's fine. Go ahead, claim him!"

The room erupted in laughter, and Amelia playfully rolled her eyes.

"And Quinn, you lucked out; it's clear all the Jones' are gorgeous."

"I know that's right!" Garret teased.

Mercedes chuckled, then glanced at Sam, her smile softening. "And Ami looks like we both snagged some fine men."

Sam's cheeks tinted pink, but he smiled back. Meanwhile, standing stiffly near his father, Steven scowled but said nothing.

Richard cleared his throat, stepping forward. "The doctor says you're good to go home," he said, his voice steady.

Amelia quickly added, "You'll stay with Jake and me. We've got plenty of space, and you shouldn't be alone."

Mercedes' brow furrowed as she looked at Sam. "Don't we live together?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but Amelia spoke first. "No, sweetheart. You've got your own place until the wedding, but someone needs to be with you while you recover, and your place has no elevator. Is that okay with you?"

Mercedes looked at her sister before looking back at Sam. "Can I have a moment with you? Just you?"

The room fell silent before everyone began shuffling out, giving the two some privacy.

Steven grabbed Sam's arm, looking him in the eyes. "She's still engaged to me, Sam, and when she wakes up from this nightmare and remembers she hates you, all this will finally be over. So keep your hands and lips to yourself!"

Sam looked after his brother, his words ringing loudly in his mind. Looking back at Mercedes, who patted the bed, Sam slowly approached the bed, his movements tentative. He sat down on the edge, keeping a bit of distance but close enough for her to reach out if she wanted to.

Mercedes studied him carefully; her brow furrowed in thought. "Sam," she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Do you… not want to take care of me?"

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. "What? No, that's not it at all," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I do. Of course I do. But your family wants to be there for you, and I didn't want to overstep."

Mercedes tilted her head, her gaze searching his. "But you are going to be my family, aren't you?" she asked, her tone so genuine it made Sam's chest tighten.

"Yeah," he said softly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Then why does it feel like I'm a burden to you?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly as she looked down at her hands. "Nothing has made sense since I woke up but you and my family. Seeing you stirred something deep inside of me that I know is love."

Sam immediately reached for her, taking her smaller hands into his own. "Mercedes, no," he said firmly, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "That's the furthest thing from the truth. You could never be a burden to me. All I want is for you to feel safe."

Her lips parted slightly, her expression softening. "I'd feel safe with you," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper.

Sam's breath hitched as she looked at him with those big, soulful eyes that made his resolve waver. She leaned in slowly, closing the distance between them, and before he could react, her lips brushed against his in a soft, tentative kiss.

He froze, his heart thundering in his chest. As much as he wanted to lose himself in the moment, he pulled back, his expression conflicted.

Mercedes frowned, her brows knitting together. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly. "You're not… attracted to me? Is it because I'm a mess right now?"

"Hey," Sam said gently, tilting her chin up with his fingers so she couldn't look away. His eyes were warm and filled with something she couldn't quite name. "You're beautiful. You've always been beautiful. But… you don't have your memories right now, and I can't—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I can't take advantage of you."

She shook her head, her curls swaying with the movement. "Sam," she said, her tone insistent. "We're engaged. You're not taking advantage of me."

Before he could respond, she leaned in again, her hands lightly resting on his chest. This time, the kiss was firmer, more certain. Sam's resolve wavered, and after a moment of hesitation, he gave in, kissing her back.

His hand moved to cup her cheek as he deepened the kiss, pouring all the emotion he'd been holding back into the moment. When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless.

Mercedes smiled, her eyes shining as she looked at him. "See?" she said softly. "That felt right."

Sam rested his forehead against hers, his heart pounding. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice low. "It did."

Sam and his mother, Mary, worked quietly in the guest room of his ranch-style home. The room had a cozy charm—earthy tones and soft lighting made it feel like a sanctuary. Mary carefully smoothed out the comforter, her movements precise and thoughtful.

"Sam," she began, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?"

Sam paused, a pillow clutched in his hands, and laughed softly. "No," he admitted, tossing the pillow onto the bed. He turned to her, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "But, Mom… she looked at me like I hung the stars and the moon. How was I supposed to say no?"

Mary straightened and regarded him with a knowing smile, her hands resting on her hips. "That does sound like Mercedes," she said with a fond chuckle.

Sam nodded, leaning back against the edge of the dresser. "We all tried to get her to change her mind. Amelia, her dad, even me. But if there's one thing Mercedes Jones didn't lose in that accident, it's her stubbornness."

Mary raised an eyebrow, her amusement clear. "Oh, don't I know it? That woman's willpower could move mountains."

Sam crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "She's not just stubborn, though. She's determined. It's one of the things I—" He stopped short, catching himself.

Mary stepped closer, tilting her head to study him. "It's one of the things you love about her," she finished gently.

Sam blinked, caught off guard. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a deep voice interrupted them from the hallway.

"Well, we finished adding the bench to the shower," Dwight announced, walking in with Richard close behind him. "Should make things easier for her since she demanded she be here."

Richard laughed, shaking his head as he followed Dwight into the room. "That daughter of mine did not give us much choice.," he added, his tone laced with humor.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Richard smirked. "Mercedes was more than adamant. She practically demanded it," he said, crossing his arms. "Just like she demanded Garrett carry her up the stairs to her apartment so she could 'get a few things.'"

Mary's eyes widened. "She didn't!"

"Oh, she did," Richard confirmed with a grin. "Luckily, Amelia stepped in and told her she knew exactly what Mercedes needed. Then she made her sit in the car with Quinn and Marilyn while she and Garrett went inside."

Sam shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "Sounds about right," he muttered. He then turned his gaze to Richard, his expression more serious. "How are you okay with her staying here with me?"

Richard regarded him steadily, his tone calm but firm. "Because I know you'll protect her," he said simply. Then, with a slight smile, he added, "And if you don't… well, let's just say I'll let Garrett loose."

Mary let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Oh, now that's a threat."

Sam smiled despite himself. "Noted," he said, glancing at Richard. "But I promise you, I won't let anything happen to her."

Dwight clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Good. We all know she's in good hands."

A knock echoed through the house as the group shared a brief moment of levity. Sam straightened, his expression turning serious. "I'll get it," he said, excusing himself to head toward the door.

Sam opened the door to find Steven standing on the porch, his expression a mix of irritation and frustration.

"Steven," Sam greeted cautiously, stepping aside to let him in.

Steven walked past him without a word, his shoulders tense as he entered the living room, where Mary, Dwight, and Richard stood. The room fell silent as Steven stopped in the center, his gaze zeroing in on Sam.

"So, it's true," Steven said, his voice low but sharp. "Mercedes is staying here with you?"

Sam crossed his arms, meeting his brother's glare. "Yeah, she is. The doctor said she shouldn't be alone, and she wanted to stay here."

Steven let out a bitter laugh. "She wanted to stay here? And you didn't try to change her mind?"

Mary stood, her tone calm but firm. "Steven, this isn't the time for this—"

"No," Steven interrupted, his eyes never leaving Sam. "I want to hear it from him. Why are you so willing to take care of her? What's your angle, Sam?"

Sam's jaw tightened. "There's no angle, Steven. I'm doing this because she asked me to."

Steven took a step closer, his voice rising. "Why? Why would she ask you? You're not her fiancé—I am!"

"Steven, don't blame me because when she woke up, she saw me. I didn't seek her out; I didn't put myself in her path! And I am not the reason any of this is happening!"

Steven shook his head, his fists clenching. "You always do this, Sam. You act like you're the selfless one, but you're not. You're just a coward." Steven stared at his brother for a moment. "Be honest for once, Sam. Do you have feelings for her?"

Sam flinched, his composure slipping for a moment. "This isn't about that," he said, his voice tight.

Steven's eyes narrowed. "Don't dodge the question." He took a step closer, his voice rising. "You've been hovering around her like she's your whole world. I didn't even think you liked her, but now…" His voice cracked. "For a man who swore she was the bane of your existence, you were right there. Always. And I was stupid enough to think our brotherhood meant anything."

Sam hesitated, glancing around the room. He could feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken questions hanging in the air. Finally, he exhaled and looked directly at Steven.

"I have been in love with her since High School," Sam admitted, his voice steady but quiet.

The room fell into a stunned silence as Sam continued. "I had every intention of asking her out when she got back home from abroad, but then…" He trailed off, his expression pained. "Then I got that job and left for a year. When I came back, you'd already gotten to her."

Steven frowned. "So you just lied to me?"

"That's not fair," Sam said, his voice taut. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to hurt you. Because I love you, Steven. You're my brother."

Steven barked a bitter laugh. "Yeah? Well, maybe you should've loved me enough to tell the truth instead of lying by omission."

"I tried to let go," Sam said, his voice cracking. "I tried to let her go, to let you have her. So I made myself hate her, but I couldn't. Not entirely. And I'm sorry for that, Steven. I really am. But right now, Mercedes needs me, and I won't turn my back on her."

Steven stared at him, his face a mask of fury and hurt. "You don't get to play the hero here, Sam. Not with her. Not with me."

Richard cleared his throat, stepping forward. "That's enough. Both of you." He looked at Steven, his voice steady but firm. "I know you're angry and have every right to be. But you're brothers. You don't throw that away over a woman, no matter how much you care about her."

Steven glanced at him, his jaw tightening. "Maybe Sam should've thought about that before he decided to keep this from me."

Sam took a step forward, his voice softer. "Steven... I never wanted to hurt you, and I don't want to fight with you. But I can't just walk away. She asked me to help, and I will. I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"For you!" Steven snapped. "Not for her. Not for me. Just for you." He took a step forward, his anger boiling over. "Do you know what it's like, Sam? Always being second-best to you? No matter what I do, I can't win. Not with Dad, not with Mom, and now not with Mercedes. For once, I thought I had something you didn't."

Sam flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than he expected. "Steven, that's not—"

"It is!" Steven interrupted, his voice cracking. "And you know it. You just didn't care. You were going to take her the moment you had the chance."

"I wasn't going to take her!" Sam shouted, his voice raw. "I wasn't even going to say anything. I tried to let go. I tried to let you have her because I love you, Steven. But I'm not going to stand here and let you act like I'm the bad guy for trying to help her now."

"Help her?" Steven scoffed. "Is that what you call it? Or are you just waiting for her to realize she's better off with you?"

"Steven," Dwight cut in, his voice sharp, "Enough. Pride has already done enough damage to this family. Don't let it destroy your bond as brothers. We can't have this tearing us apart."

Steven hesitated, his fists still clenched, but the fire in his eyes dimmed slightly. He looked at Sam, his voice quieter but no less bitter. His jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. "Fine," he said, his tone clipped. But don't forget—I'm her fiancé. That means something. Keep your hands off of her."

Sam gave a weak nod, knowing he had already kissed her, and Steven shook his head. His eyes were still filled with hurt as he turned and walked out the door.