IMPORTANT TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of suicide. However there are no character deaths.

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Chapter 5

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Mercedes had a lot on her mind. Summer had ended and school kept her busy. Not to mention the part-time job she'd landed herself at a hotel in town.

Over time, she'd gotten closer to Samuel Evans. He was perfect in the most imperfect way. He was stubborn, annoying, awfully determined, at times clueless but he was funny and loyal, and he had a heart so big and full of love she wondered what on earth she'd done to deserve such a man.

She'd fallen in love with him one night during a picnic date under the stars. He was everything she hadn't known she wanted and with him she found herself braver, almost fearless. Everything was going well. Until she spoke to Noah Puckerman. As happy as he could be, he'd told her how he and Sam had signed up for the military. How they'd been placed in the reserves but that the duo were hoping something more. Noah hadn't known that Sam had kept this fact a secret. He hadn't noticed how Mercedes' world crumbled under her feet. How could he? Noah had been blinded by his happiness. So after telling her his news, Noah Puckerman kissed her cheek and was on his way.

As luck would have it, Sam Evans proposed to her that night and he still hadn't told her his news. So Mercy refused. He'd cried, wondering why she'd refused after they had made such progress. She cried too, wondering how she could have let herself fall in love with him when the romance wouldn't last. He'd break her heart and he wouldn't even realize it. He left her house, convinced he'd asked her too soon and determined to make her his wife one day. In turn, Mercedes warned her best friends not to transfer any call and she never spoke to him again.

But he called, often too, and 'Tana and Tina and told her every time. He asked about her. He didn't know that she knew and she didn't know how to tell him she did

At work now, Mercy Jones washed the floors in the lobby of the Grand Hotel, not bothered by the guests. It had been weeks since she'd spoken to Sam. She missed him every day. Everything was dull without him there. Even her friends were strange, Santana more than Tina. She missed the days when everything had been simple.

"Miss Mercy Jones, is it?"

Mercedes looked up and frowned. The voice belonged to an old white man. He seemed friendly enough, with his kind smile and twinkling blue eyes. "And who's askin'?" You could never be too careful.

"Bobby Rainhart. I heard you at your fiesta. You sing very well."

Mercedes continued watching the floor, unconvinced. "Well, thank you I suppose."

"The Wisettes are talented and fun. I know the troops in Vietnam would enjoy a show." When he was certain he had her attention, Bobby Rainhart continued. "If you and your friends would like a contract for Vietnam, come to me. The three of you. I'll be staying at the hotel. You can easily get my number and when you call, we'll arrange a meeting."

Flattered but nervous Mercedes shook her head. "Sir, with all due respect I have school and I have-"

"Opportunities," interrupted Rainhart. "You have opportunities."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mercy, but you have a call. It seems urgent," called Joe from the front desk. He waved the phone frantically at her.

Smiling apologetically at the old man, Mercedes ran to take the call. "Hello?" she said.

"Mercy?" The voice was unmistakable, even through the sniffling and the crying. "Mercy I am so sorry but I can't do this. I can't do this anymore and I don't know how to fix it. I don't think it can be fixed. Not ever. It's the only way that can make it stop."

"What are you talking about, 'Tana? What can't be fixed?" Her voice came out sharper than she intended as Mercedes scribbled on a note pad. Call police and paramedics, my address NOW. Joe nodded and took another line.

"Me. I can't be fixed." Santana took a deep breath and gripped the phone tightly in her hands. "I needed to tell you that it's not your fault and I love you and you need to marry that Trout. I was so lucky to have you and Tina. Y-You're everything to me. I love you both. Don't be angry please. Don't ever be angry at me. It needs to be done."

"Santana, whatever you're about to do, don't. We can fix it. You, me and Tina. We can fix it together," said Mercedes, panicking.

"There's no other way. I'm sorry." With that said, Santana hung up.

She'd never driven so fast. Her mind a haze, she barely registered her actions. Some part of her knew that she had to get home as quickly as she could if she wanted to see her best friend again. At the house, a police car was parked, lights blinding. In the driveway was an ambulance. Their neighbours had gathered around outside to watch the scene. Mercedes pushed past them and ran to the paramedics, ignoring the police officers who told her to step back.

"Is she going to be okay?" Mercedes asked the paramedics as they lifted Santana into the ambulance. From where she was standing, her friend was pale and lifeless.

"We'll do everything we can." answered one of them.

They were gone before she could formulate a coherent response. All she knew was that her best friend, her sister, was dying. Somehow she managed her way to the hospital. There she met Tina, who'd been told what had happened by one of the neighbours. Neither girls knew why things had turned out the way they did. Neither girls knew what had pushed Santana over the edge and both girls blamed themselves for not addressing her strange behaviour beforehand.

Mercedes felt the her knees weakness as they pushed Santana into the operation room. The voices around her were muffled by the ringing in her ears. There was a coldness in the air that had her feeling numb. Beside her, Tina crumbled to the ground, crying. Mercedes fell beside her, pulling her friend into her arms. They held each other as they cried.

Eventually, after what seemed like years, the doctors informed them that Santana had attempted to overdose on barbiturates but was going to be okay. She was going to live and hopefully live well, but that a psychiatric evaluation couldn't hurt. The girls couldn't think about that, not when their friend and sister was alone in a strange room. The doctor sympathetically led them to Santana Lopez' room.

In her bed, surrounded by machines, Santana lay sickeningly pale sleeping. Pulling up a chair on each side of her bed, Mercedes and Tina sat, resting their head on the bed and holding Santana's hand tightly in theirs. The two drifted off into a light and troubled sleep, fear and exhaustion finally catching up.

A wail that had the hairs on the back of her neck stand up woke Mercedes and Tina from their nap hours later and had them rushing to calm Santana. It was no use though. The girl was screaming, her eyes filled with tears and Mercedes, for the first time in her life, had no idea how to fix it. So she held her friend in her arms, hugging her tighter than she had ever hugged a person before and she cried with her.

"No, no no!" shrieked Santana, through tears. "I'm not supposed to be here." Her voice was filled with sincere despair. "I'm not supposed to be here." She repeated, weakening.

A nurse poked her head in the room, curious. "Is everything all right here, girls? Do you need Dr. Lewis?"

Mercedes shook her head as Santana calmed down. "We'll be fine for now."

The nurse nodded and left.

"Why'd you do this, 'Tana?" Tina finally spoke, her voice hoarse.

There was a long pause before Santana spoke. She licked her lips and chuckled darkly. "I fell in love, Tina," she answered finally.

"That's good, isn't it?" asked Mercedes slowly, glancing at Tina with her brows raised.

There was another pause before Santana continued. "I fell in love with a girl." Silence followed her admission.

"Did you think we would stop loving you?" asked Mercedes after what seemed an eternity.

"I don't know." The tears were flowing freely again. "I'm just so... there's something wrong with me. There's-"

"No," Tina interrupted sharply. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you."

"I'm a lesbian. I'm a Latina. I'm a woman. Where am I going to be accepted? Who is going to love me? Ay dios mio. Who is going to love me?"

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"Sammy boy, this time next week we'll be 'Nam. Fighting the great war." Noah rubbed his hands together in anticipation and they strolled down Main street. "The women, my boy, they love a man in a uniform. Let me tell you, when we're back we'll have a dozen waiting to take care of us and to love us."

Sam rolled his eyes, not as excited as he once had been. He'd only enrolled in the military because he needed a way out if he flunked out of college – which he was certain was a matter of time. He had never been too good with numbers and letters. They always got mixed up in his mind. He was good, but good enough. "I don't care about the women." He said lamely.

To his credit, Noah looked at him and sighed. "I know you love her. Maybe she'll come see you off next week."

"She won't." Sam said with certainty.

"You never told her!" Noah's eyes widened, suddenly feeling guilty. But he hadn't known. He thought that Sam, who had always been so honest and forthcoming, would have told his Mercy.

"I didn't know how. And I'll never get a chance to tell her. I just need to tell her I love her one last time." He hated himself for not saying anything. "I should have told her when I had the chance."

"Mercy's always been full of surprises. Maybe she'll come around." said Noah hopefully.

"In a week? I don't think so." They continued their walk in silence, both silently hoping that Mercy would see Sam off.

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"You're not a wise girl, Mercy. Not anymore. Neither of us are." Santana laughed weakly and turned on her side to face Mercedes. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed and though she was still pale, there was progress in Santana's health. "We should be called Tina and The Cowards, not the Wisettes."

Mercedes rubbed her eyes and sighed. They were alone, Tina having left to sleep. The two would take turns, never leaving Santana alone longer than a half hour. "How did things ever get so... confusing?"

"You made them complicated," answered Santana. "I told you to be a wise girl, Mercy. I told you to to be cautious."

"And I was cautious." Her voice trembling, Mercedes stood. She'd seen the change in Santana's eyes. The one that told her the conversation was taking a turn she wouldn't quite appreciate.

Santana scoffed. "You were stupid was what you were."

"This isn't the time to talk this. You're in the hospital." said Mercedes, her voice accusing. "After you tried to kill yourself."

"I did. I did try to kill myself and by some horrid twist of fate I woke up in this damned bed, so you're going to listen to me while you still can." Santana pushed herself into a sitting position and glared at her friend. "That boy loves you. Hell, there's not even a word to describe what he feels for you. Every week he calls. Every week you leave him sittin' alone in a restaurant. Now, I don't know what on earth possessed him to keep at it, but he does. He still calls even after you break his heart."

"Santana-"

"Don't you dare interrupt me while I'm on my death bed." Santana breathed in sharply.

"You're not dyin', 'Tana."

"No but I damn well should be." Santana said. "I told you to be cautious so that your heart doesn't get shattered. I didn't tell you to push away the only man who's ever loved you." She softened and beckoned Mercedes toward her. Taking her friend's hand and kissing the back of it, Santana continued. "Look, it's not perfect and it won't be easy... but it's good and it's right. So just try."

Mercedes sniffed and stepped back. "Like you tried, 'Tana? Jesus, I'd kill you now if I didn't know that's what you wanted. What did you think? That you could just leave us? I love you. You are my sister. I can't lose you."

Santana blinked back tears and and nodded. "I know. I love you too, but this is bigger than that. I just- I don't..." She wrung her hands, searching for words. "I'll never be happy. There'll always be a part of me that's not accepted. I don't think I'm strong enough."

"You are Santana Lopez. You're the strongest person I know." Mercedes sat on the edge of the bed. "Honey, did you ever think when we were kids that we would be able to go to university with the white folk? D'you ever think that people like us would be able to use their toilets, their hospitals? Look at us now. I know it won't be easy. People will be downright awful. They'll be hateful and they'll be ignorant. But you gotta hold on, just in case. It's going to change. It has to. And you need to be there when it does."

"But I-"

"You need to be there when it does," repeated Mercedes, wiping the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks. "I don't ever want to be scared like this again. Not until were old and wrinkled. So you best put it in your head that I love you and I am not letting you go easily. I'll keep bringing you back. Even if you hate me for it." She sniffled and stood, forcing a smile. "Now, some good news. I wanted to tell you earlier. When you called me last night I was talking with a man I'd just met. He'd heard us sing at the fiesta. We're good, 'Tana. He thought we could bring a little joy in Vietnam."

"I don't understand,"

"He wants us to sing for the troops, 'Tana." Mercedes smiled genuinely at Santana's expression of joy. "So you get better, because we're going to Vietnam." She kissed the top of Santana's head. "I have to go but Tina will be here in a bit. I love you. I need you."

As Mercedes left the hospital, Santana leaned back into her bed. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders when she'd admitted her sexuality, but she hadn't had much hope left regardless of that fact. Now, she saw opportunities she never thought would ever exist. Most importantly, she had the support she'd been terrified she would loose.

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Sam was a damned fool. He was going to hell for more reasons than he cared to admit. He felt guilty that he wasn't as ashamed as he should be. They said that the road to hell was paved with good intentions. Well, his was paved with unchristian fun. He didn't regret a thing. But he was a damned fool.

A damned fool in love. A young southern man like him should have been out on a date with a pretty young thing. He should have had his fingers crossed behind his back, hoping he'd end up in his date's bed. Her bed because he'd never been one to bring women home. Toss in the fact that he was staying with his great-aunt. No way was he getting frisky with her in the next room.

Sam Evans was a damn fool in love because instead of being with one of those girls, he was sitting in a restaurant eating a plate of spaghetti. Alone.

Over the weeks, he'd become close acquaintances with the waiters at the small restaurant. They saw him every Friday and he always ordered for two even though no one ever joined him. When he was finished eating, he always waited twenty minutes before sighing, asking them to put the other meal in a doggy bag and leaving.

Kurt, one of the waiters, felt bad for him every time. Today was no exception.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Sam." He started, sitting in the vacant seat before him. "I just don't think she's ever going to come."

"She will," said Sam. Every week was the same thing. Kurt would try to convince him to move on, and Sam would refuse. This was, however, the first time he started doubting that she would. "She has to."

"It's been weeks. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing you here. Just not like this." Kurt sighed. "Look, I know she's amazing. You've told me so much about her, I feel like we've already met. But we need to face the facts. The cold hard facts of life. She doesn't like you like that. And you keep coming every week hoping that she'll change her mind. You're hurting yourself. It's time to move on."

Sam pushed his plate away and rested his head in his hands. "I know. I really thought that she was the one. She still feels like one."

"They always feel like the one." said Kurt sympathetically. "And then there's always another to take their place."

"Every Monday morning I call her and leave a message with one of her roommates. Every Monday morning, without fail." Sam laughed at himself, but there was no humour in his eyes when he looked at Kurt. "And every Friday I eat here. Alone."

Kurt stood and patted his shoulder in support. "Do you want me to put her meal in a doggy bag?" he asked.

Sam stared hard at the plate he'd ordered for Mercedes. "Not today, Kurt." He pulled thirty dollars from his pocket and pushed it into the boy's hand before standing. "Thanks."

Kurt nodded sadly before making his way to the kitchen. He along with the rest of the staff had hoped the mystery woman would change her mind. Then, along the way, Kurt had begun to wonder if she existed at all. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Sam one last time and was surprised to see a pretty black girl entering the restaurant and heading towards him. Kurt smiled at the sight, recognizing her from Sam's description. After so many week, she finally came.

"Sam?"

His heart skipped a beat as Sam turned to face the person. It skipped more than a beat. He was certain it had stopped for a full minute because surely this couldn't be real and the woman in front of him could not be the woman he'd been hoping to see walk through those doors. She couldn't really be the one. "Mercedes?"

She smiled tentatively. "I needed to talk to someone." she whispered. Her eyes were red and swollen, liked she'd cried more than her fair share of tears. "And you're the first person I found that I know." she went on. Her voice was stronger now. She met his unblinking gaze.

When he didn't answer, an expression of mortification crossed her face. "I am so sorry. After everything I've done to you-"

"I never thought you'd come." he interrupted, his voice barely more than a murmur.

"I know." Her eyes filled with tears and she brushed them away hastily.

"Why did you?"

"I told you. I needed to talk to someone." She started impatiently, then caught herself. In a softer voice she continued. "I wanted that person to be you."

"Why?"

"Because I l-" she caught herself and smiled sadly. "Because I love you."

He reached to touch her cheek and stopped himself. She looked exhausted and heartbroken. "Let me drive you home," was all he said.

They reached her house in a matter of minutes. Neither had spoken during the ride, and still neither spoke as they walked up her drive way. It was only as she fumbled with her keys that Mercedes dared speak. "Can you stay?" she asked. Sam nodded and followed her inside, where he took off his shoes and in turn followed her into her bedroom.

"What's wrong, Mercedes?" he asked finally.

She sat on her bed and shook her head. "Santana is in the hospital. Other than that, I don't know where to start," she whispered.

"Anywhere." Sam sat next to her and clasped his hands together to keep from touching her.

"Well, first of all, I love you. I know that I haven't shown it very well but I'm scared." she said quickly. "You're the only who could really hurt me. I don't want to be hurt." Sam tried to speak but she held up a hand, silencing him. "But I don't want to be without you either. I came every Friday and every Friday I left as soon I reached the door... because I know and I'm scared."

Sam nodded, understanding and let out a shaky breath. He should have known that the news would somehow get to her. Noah was their mutual friend. He would have told her he'd joined the army. "Is that why you stopped seeing me?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"If you die while you're out fighting in Vietnam then what am I going to do?" asked Mercedes. "I knew when we first met that you were going to be trouble. I fell in love with you. That makes me a damned fool and I had hoped that stayin' away from you would fix that but it only made it worse. I don't want to love you, Sam."

"But you do."

In answer, she shifted so that she could straddle him. "I do." She pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. "We're going to make a deal, okay?" she asked, looking into his green eyes. "You're going to leave with Noah next week and you are going to go to work. And you're going to come back and when you do..." she kissed him again. "I'm going to marry you. So don't you die on me, Sam Evans. Don't you dare die on me."

His heart swelled at her words and he pulled her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "What made you change you're mind?" he asked.

"You could say that 'Tana knocked some sense into me."

"Thank her for me, will ya?" he asked, pulling back. "Mercy Jones, I promise I am going to come back and marry you."

"Sam Evans, I promise that I will wait for you as long as it takes." Mercedes smiled softly. For tonight, she want him for herself. She wanted the comfort of being with the only man she ever had the courage to love.

Reviews would be lovely. I know I lost the... style of the other chapters. I guess that's what happens when you don't update for a year. I'll probably make adjustments to the chapter because of that, and I FOR CERTAIN will try to write the next chapter the same style as the previous ones.