Thank you for your continued support. This is the final chapter in this story.

Standard disclaimer

Mercedes spent a few days in a Hawaiian hospital and was told about what had happened to her. In all that time, there was no word from Sam, and she felt sad.

MERCEDES POV

My heart stopped. Then it started again. When I woke up, Sam was gone. I have so many questions. Why, being the biggest one.

Currently, Mercedes was back at home, in her own bed, feeling much better.

She picked up her laptop and opened it. She was bombarded with questions from Sam. He wanted to know many things, and of course, if she was okay. She decided to text him.

SAM: Are you okay?

MERCEDES: Yes, I am.

SAM: Are you sure you're okay?

MERCEDES: Yes. I'm okay Sam.

SAM: It's nice to be able to talk to you again. I tried to visit, but your mom wouldn't let me.

MERCEDES: Yeah…I'm…I'm sorry I put you through all that…I can't do this anymore.

SAM: Can't do what?

MERCEDES: No more texts…no more emails…Sam, it's just too hard. My mom was right. Life was better before.

SAM: Better for who?

MERCEDES: Ellipses.

SAM: Don't do this Mercedes.

MERCEDES: Ellipses.

SAM: My life…is better with you in it…

MERCEDES: But mine isn't.

SAM: I lied before…

MERCEDES: About what?

SAM: I do feel sorry for you.

There was no answer from her. Only a message saying,

'Mercedes has logged out,' popped up.

Sam was a mess.

He threw his phone across the room and pummeled his pillow, until he was spent.

Mercedes too, wasn't faring well. She was heartbroken.

The reality of what she had said and done, hit her like a ton of bricks. She searched Sam's window space, looking for a glimpse of him, but he never showed.

Fat tears rolled down her face, at the loss of the man she loved.

She abandoned her laptop and dashed to her bed, to cry her heart out.

Hours later, she was still in space, as she sat atop the kitchen counter and idly watched her mother put dishes in the sink. She'd hardly touched her dinner.

"Tomorrow, I'm back at the hospital," her mother voiced.

"Did you find me a good babysitter?" Mercedes asked. Mrs. Jones turned, sizing her up.

"Actually, I've been thinking, you don't need a nurse. You've learned a tough lesson and I don't think you'll be repeating it."

"No."

"Good," her mother said, as she took her hand and gently squeezed it, just before returning to the dishes in the sink.

Later on, Mercedes found herself laying on her bed, listening to music and checking her mail on her laptop.

There was a message from Blaine, one from Santana and of course Sam.

She read all except for his, but could clearly see what it was about, or so she thought. It read,

'Please Mercedes. I wish you would talk to me.'

She simply deleted it and turned up the volume on her earphones.

About an hour later, she was sitting, taking her vitals, when she heard a strange noise. She got up to investigate.

She was drawn to the window facing Sam's house and what she saw, shocked her.

Sam's mother was putting luggage in his truck and lots of other stuff. They were leaving. He was leaving. She flew to her computer and pulled up Sam's deleted message.

It was way longer than she'd originally thought. It read,

'I wish you'd talk to me. I'll never meet anyone like you, Mercedes. You look at the ocean like it was meant for you. You jump off cliffs even though you can't swim. You believe you can find the meaning of life in a book. You have no vices…You should really get some. I'm trying not to love you, Mercedes…I'm not doing so well. How am I supposed to love anyone else, now? My mom's decided she can't take it anymore. She thinks her and my dad needs space. We're leaving tonight, while my dad is still at work. My mom wants to do it then, because she's afraid she won't be able to do it, if he's right in front of her. They still love each other…I'm happy about that…it gives me hope. I finally told her about you. She thinks you're brave. Being with you made me brave. This is my last email…I'm moving back to New York. I love you...always.'

As she read it, her eyes watered.

A noise on the outside caused her to run to the window.

Sam was standing on the driver's side, looking up at her window. As usual, he was dressed in black. He looked so handsome. He just stood there, staring at her as if imprinting her features into his memory.

In that moment, there were so many things Mercedes wanted to say to him, but it was too late.

She helplessly watched, as he got into the truck, started up and drove off.

Her eyes remained on the empty space where the truck had been, for a few minutes more, and that is when it sunk in. Sam was gone. There's a chance she would never see him again.

Silent tears ran down her face, as she turned away from the window.

Her life will never be the same again.

After having a good cry, Mercedes decided to lose herself, working on her latest model.

Later that night, time seemed to stand still.

It was no use going to her window space, she couldn't bear to. She sat on the floor of her room, idly playing with an astronaut, her favorite model character, as thoughts ran rampant through her mind.

She didn't sleep that night.

Morning found her sitting, looking through the window at the street below, where she first saw Sam.

She was distracted by her phone vibrating on the desk behind her.

"Hello," she spoke into the line.

"Mercedes Jones?" the caller asked.

"Yes."

"Hi. This is Doctor Melissa Francis from Maui Memorial Hospital. I was your attending physician, while you were here. I'm just following up on your lab results. Your Myocarditis was caused by a viral infection. You seem to have a very weak immune system."

"Well, I have SCID."

"SCID? Really? Why would you think that?" A puzzled look masked Mercedes' features.

"I've had it since I was a baby."

"Uh…I don't know. If you had that kind of severe immune deficiency, you probably would've suffered more than Myocarditis."

The doctor finished her call and Mercedes went crazy.

She fled to her computer, researching every piece of information she could find about SCID and Myocarditis.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard.

She spent hours, upon hours, searching and researching everything she possibly could. Finally, she decided to search the files her mother kept in a drawer at home.

Finding nothing there, she searched filing cabinets and other places her mother kept records and files, until she found what she was looking for.

She perused each page, with tears in her eyes, horrified at what she was seeing. There wasn't anything there to substantiate or show anything, concerning her sickness.

Just then her mother came home and saw her on the floor, with a file opened in front of her and papers strewn all around.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Jones asked. With tearful eyes, Mercedes looked up at her and asked,

"Am I sick?"

"What?"

"Am I sick," she repeated, this time more forcefully. Mrs. Jones ran to her daughter, running her hand over her face and forehead. Finally, she held her chin and asked,

"Do you feel sick?" Mercedes removed her mother's hand from her face, eased backwards and said,

"That's not what I mean." Mrs. Jones was taken aback. She wasn't sure how to respond. "Do you remember meeting a Dr. Francis in Maui?"

"I met lots of doctors in Maui. Why?"

"She doesn't think I have SCID."

"And she got your hopes up…didn't she? It was irresponsible…of her…to do that. SCID is so rare and so complicated. Not everyone understands it…they're just…too many types. And every person reacts differently. You get that, don't you?" she finished, and stroked Mercedes' cheek. Mercedes nodded.

"That's what you've always told me."

"Well, you just saw it for yourself. You were fine for little while…and then you almost died in that emergency room…immune systems are very complicated…and Dr. Francis doesn't know your full medical history, she's just looking at a tiny fraction. She hasn't been here the whole time like I have."

Anger rose in Mrs. Jones' voice, as she tried to make her daughter understand what she was saying.

Mercedes stared at her mother the entire time.

Something didn't feel right.

There was fear in her mother's eyes, and she wanted to explore it.

"Where are the papers mom?"

"What…what're you talking about?" The fear in her eyes intensified to panic.

"You have records for everything. But you have nothing about SCID. Where are the papers?"

"Well…they…they…they must be here…because…I keep…I keep everything," Mrs. Jones stuttered out, as she picked up the scattered papers off the floor.

"Did you…did you take them?" she foolishly asked, trying to throw her daughter off. "The papers?" she finished.

It was then that Mercedes knew what that fear was about.

Dr. Francis was right.

She didn't have SCID.

Her mother was a liar.

She ran from the room in tears. She couldn't bear to look at her mother any longer.

"Mer…Mercedes? Mercedes?" Mrs. Jones called, knowing the game was up. She dashed from the room in search of her daughter.

Mercedes ran right through the house, up to the lock-code and opened the door.

Her mother caught up with her, just as she stepped outside. Her stomach had begun to feel queasy and she remembered what Dr. Francis said about her immune system.

"Mercedes what are you doing? Are you okay? Come inside," her mother said, grasping her hand.

"Why? Why do I have to go inside, mom?"

"Because you're sick baby. You're sick." Mercedes shook her head from side to side.

"No. I'm not."

"Mercedes, please. Please."

"I'm not going back inside."

"You have to. You're all I have left. I can't lose you. Please."

"Have I ever been sick?" Mrs. Jones couldn't answer. The only thing she said, was,

"Come inside."

Mercedes' heart felt as though it had dropped clean out of her stomach.

She pulled her hands free of her mom and started backing up.

A sob escaped her, and the only thing left to do, was run.

Mrs. Jones took off behind her daughter, calling after her.

"Mercedes! Don't do this. Mercedes! Mercedes!"

She watched as her daughter disappeared down the street, and around the corner. And she fell to the ground sobbing. She had lost her only child.

The first thing Mercedes did, when she had composed herself, was, ask a shopkeeper to use his phone to call Santana.

In a matter of minutes, Santana arrived at the shop and picked her up.

As Santana questioned her former charge, about what had happened, Mercedes remained silent, with tears flowing from her eyes.

Santana's heart went out to her.

She decided to let her be and just take her home with her.

Back home now, Santana and her girlfriend Brittany, flanked Mercedes on either side, and watched television with her.

They made her feel comfortable and decided not to push her. They tracked down Blaine for her and left her to chat with him in private.

Next day, Mercedes asked Santana to take her to a free clinic, to have a few tests done.

Hours later, she sat in a doctor's office listening to what his findings were.

"We're not sure about the state of your immune system. We think it's possible that…it's under-developed…like an infant's. It hasn't been exposed to common viruses or bacterial infections. You don't have SCID." Mercedes' eyes watered. Eighteen years, living inside...why?

"Why did I get sick in Hawaii?"

"Well, normal healthy people get sick all the time."

Hearing the doctor tell her these things, brought relief, but it also cemented for her, the person she trusted most in her life, has been lying to her for years…her entire existence.

Returning to Santana's, after talking to the doctor, Mercedes was met with the sight of her mother, sitting on the steps, waiting for her.

Schooling her features, she walked calmly up to her, with the intention of not saying anything to her.

Her mother met her before she got to the steps, with a bag she took from beside her and smiled at her.

"I brought you a few of your things." She placed the bag on the ground between them and nervously looked at her daughter.

"I'm only taking them because I want you to leave." Mrs. Jones felt as though she was physically slapped. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Right after your dad and your brother died, you got so sick. You wouldn't breathe right…and I took you to the emergency room. And we had to stay for three days…and they couldn't figure out what was wrong with you. They said it was probably some kind of allergy…and they…they gave me a list of things to stay away from. I was…I was so sure it was something else…"

Both were crying at this point.

Mrs. Jones stepped around the bag and ran her hands up and down Mercedes' arms.

"I love you, Mercedes," she said and embraced her. Mercedes returned the hug, but her mind was on Sam. She said,

"I hope he still loves me."

"I'm so sorry."

Mrs. Jones pulled back, tears flowing freely now. She stroked Mercedes' cheek, kissed it and left.

MERCEDES POV

The universe already took my dad and brother away from my mom.

She was afraid to lose me too, so she made herself believe that I was sick.

I can understand how she felt…almost.

I'm trying to.

My mother loved my father. He was the love of her life.

And she loved my brother…he was the love of her life.

And she loves me…I am the love of her life.

I want to forgive her, but…right now…all I can think about, is everything I've missed.

I've been trying to find the single moment, that set my life on its path.

Maybe there's a version of my life, where I'm sick.

A version where I died in Hawaii.

Another where my brother and father are still alive…and my mother is not broken.

There's even a version of my life without Sam in it.

For the next few days, while Mercedes' mother reached out to Santana, Mercedes began to put her life in order.

She was still staying with Santana and Brittany, so she decided to level with them about her plans.

A few times a day, she found herself on the phone with her best friend Blaine, who told her of seeing Sam, for the first time since he returned.

In his words, Sam was devastated. He kept a low profile and spent most of his time at home. The only other place he seemed to frequent, was a bookshop close to his home.

Mercedes did her best to explain to him, what happened between Sam and her and what happened between her and her mother.

All in all, she relayed her hopes that Sam still loved her and before their conversation was over, she stated she would be coming to New York, to get him back.

Right away, Blaine offered her a place to stay.

He and Kurt had a huge apartment and she would be welcomed there.

After saying goodbye, she gathered the few things she needed, packed them and decided to book the earliest flight out.

On the day of her departure, she tearfully said goodbye to her former nurse and boarded a flight, to what she hoped would be her new reality.

She simply sent a text to her mother, telling her,

'Time is a great healer. And in time, our hearts will heal. I'm still your daughter and you're still my mother. I love you.'

In New York, it took a great amount of convincing from Blaine, to get Sam in the mood to deal with Mercedes again.

He didn't want to cut open old wounds.

He was still raw and hurting from her breaking things off.

He decided to have an open mind and take things one day at a time.

On the plane, Mercedes sent Sam a message saying,

"I'll be at the Olde Book Shoppe at ten am." He didn't respond and she sent another one saying, "I'll understand if you're not there."

Again, no response.

Nevertheless, she continued on her flight and was met by Blaine and Kurt a couple hours later.

After introductions were made, Blaine took her bags, and drove her to the book shop.

Butterflies swarmed in Mercedes' stomach, as she crossed the street and walked the few steps to the bookstore.

She entered and found it to be eerily quiet.

It also looked empty.

Maybe Sam decided not to come, she thought.

She walked further inside, passing shelves of books on the way.

Close to the back, she saw one or two people looking at books. And at the very back, she saw Sam.

He looked different…but still the same.

The first thing that caught her attention, was that, he wasn't wearing black. He was wearing grey pants, a white tee and a blue denim jacket…he looked extremely handsome.

As if sensing her presence, Sam looked up from the book he was looking at and smiled.

"Hi," he said, his heart beating rapidly.

"Hey."

They stood there for a few seconds, just looking at each other. And then she asked,

"Do you ever wonder what your life would be like, if you could just change one thing?"

"What if changing one thing made things worse?"

"What if we hadn't met?"

"But we did."

"We did," she said. And then, "I'm sorry that I didn't say goodbye."

"Are you sure you should be here?" he asked.

"Probably not." She walked towards him and stood directly in front of him looking up into his pretty eyes. "What if today was the first day we met?"

Sam was barely holding it together.

The moment he set eyes on her, he wanted to ravish her succulent lips.

Everything about her turned him on in the moment.

Her innocent eyes drew him in, and his feet moved on their own.

"Okay," he said, looking from her eyes to her lips.

"I'm so happy to meet you," she said, and smiled.

That did it.

He leaned in and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

As usual, he lost himself in the kiss and hope flared in his heart.

After a while he pulled back and smiled. He said,

"I'm so happy to meet you, too."

They stood for a few moments, with his forehead resting on hers and afterwards, he volunteered to show her around.

Hand in hand, fingers interlocked, the two broke into a run, with huge smiles on their faces, to start a new chapter in their lives... together.

That's it for this story. I hope it was worth your time. Until I update my next story, much love to you. Happy Holidays! To you and yours.