Glee 1. Chapter 1

Ekk! Samcedes? It's CANNON! Cannon, I say. I haven't been so excited about a pairing since Klaine happened. AHHH!

Sorry. Haha. I had to write this, I simply had to because I'm insane about this pairing, and no one believed me when I called it.

I'm new at Glee- I stared watching it in January, and have been hooked ever since. And it's all Kurt's fault- he had to be so adorable, and sweet, and a bit bitchy.

Anyway, getting off topic there, sorry, I tend to do that a lot.

So it's staring off in Rumours, and progressing through to New York, and into their first summer together. I warn you now- there will be a lot of Klaine (Mostly Kurt though), because they're my OTP- and I'm an all round Kurtsie. He's brilliant. Insane, but brilliant.

Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, you'd probably be getting a Dalton spin off. Is there a Dalton spin off? There's your answer to whether or not I own Glee.

* * *

><p>It takes Sam a while to find the Senior Commons in Dalton, and it never occurs to him that Kurt might be in there- not until he knocks on the giant oak doors and they slide open easily, revealing a group of eighteen boys in uniform.<p>

Only a few people look up at his entrance, and he doesn't recognise any of them at first- but then there's that Asian guy, and he's gripping a gavel tightly in his hand and looking like he wants to whack a (bottle- he should know) blonde over the head with it. He averts his gaze, seeing a few other familiar faces- the other soloists from Sectionals are arguing about something, with many hand gestures and flailing.

He sees Blaine lying across Kurt's lap, staring up at the taller boy, who is playing with Blaine's curls, adoringly. When the curly haired boy sees Sam he raises an eyebrow and nudges Kurt with his elbow. Kurt says something to Blaine who waves vaguely in Sam's direction, and then Kurt sees him and he's pushing Blaine out of his lap and skipping over to say hello.

Sam's just standing there, a couple of hot pizza boxes in one hand, the other rubbing at the base of his neck, and attempting to avoid Kurt's inquiring eyes, feeling oddly exposed and slightly ashamed.

'What are you doing here, Sam?' is what he expects to come out of Kurt's mouth, or 'When did you start delivering pizzas?', but instead Kurt grins at him, and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, and asks how much it'll be for the pizzas.

Sam stutters out an amount, And Kurt hands over a couple of twenties, telling him to keep the change, before grabbing the pizzas and whistling over the hubbub. "Food." He said, holding the pizzas out invitingly to the group of teenage boys.

They fall over themselves to get to the food, claiming slices for themselves. Kurt hands them over with raised hands and laughing eyes . The countertenor sends his boyfriend a look, which Sam couldn't interpret, and was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to see anyway, so he turns, pretty much ready to head home for the night- this was his last delivery.

Sadly, Kurt Hummel was a force of his own, and immediately followed him out.

The shorter boy placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, and he froze, turning slowly to stare at the porcelain skinned boy. "Could you...just not tell anybody. Please?" Sam can hear his voice breaking, and he knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn't want to see the pity in his friends' eyes, or hear the taunts from the rest of the jocks.

"I won't if you don't want me to Sam," Kurt's eyes are wide, and earnest and so blue, and Sam's never been more grateful for him than he is at that moment. "That doesn't mean that you don't have to explain." Kurt said, seriously now.

Sam sighed, and Kurt grabbed the material of Sam's jacket, and dragged him into a nearby room, sitting down on a arm chair, and gesturing for Sam to do the same. Kurt crossed his legs, resting his elbow on his propped knee, and cupping his chin with his hand, waiting, patiently and a little worried.

It was a pretty short story, and it only took a few minutes to explain fully, but it took a lot out of Sam, he felt lighter, and more relaxed, but also very tired- he just wanted to sleep now.

Kurt hadn't said a word, and Sam was starting to worry- what if he ended up telling Finn, or worse, Rachel? Weren't they good friends? "Okay." Kurt said, eventually, breaking Sam out of his angsty internal monologue.

Sam looked questioningly at the younger boy, okay- _what_? "You said that you had to babysit a lot- would you mind if I came over to help out? Teenage boys generally aren't very good at cooking, and I'm sure your siblings will appreciate some decently prepared food." And Kurt looked so sincere and like he really just wanted to help out, and Sam couldn't help but wonder...

"Why?" Sam blurted.

"Why what?" Kurt asked, bemused.

"Why are you offering to help me?- I don't want your pity Kurt." Sam said, half unsure of the statement.

"I don't pity you Sam- your situation is bad, I'll admit, but you're my friend, and I'll do whatever I can to help you out." And there was that brutal honesty again.

_You're my friend...whatever I can..._

Sam took a deep, shuddering breath. "Thank you, Kurt." Kurt smiled, sadly, and stood, holding out a hand. Sam took it and the brunette hauled Sam to his feet (who knew Kurt was that strong?).

"Anytime. So when do you want me?" Kurt asked, letting go of Sam's hand, a comfortable smile in place.

"Just whenever, we're in room 394, and I should be there most week nights." Kurt nodded, jerking a hand towards the door.

There was a silence on the way out to the parking lot, not awkward or anything, just silent.

"I'll see you soon, then?" Kurt said, and Sam smiled briefly at the boy, holding out a hand.

Kurt raised an impetuous eyebrow at it, his lips quirking, instead of taking the proffered hand and shaking it, he pulled Sam into a quick hug, before literally bouncing back into the school. Sam stared after him bemusedly. He was certain Dalton had changed something in Kurt- or maybe just made him more free to be himself, because he was sure that before Dalton Kurt would never have even thought twice about hugging another male that wasn't his Dad.

Not that Sam minded, it was friendly, and showed solidarity. He watched the light brunette meet someone just inside the glass doors. Kurt held out a hand, which the other, shorter boy took, gently in his own, pulling Kurt tightly into his side.

Yeah, Dalton had changed something in Kurt. _And_, Sam thought as he climbed into the delivery van, _I'm sure it's a change for the better._

* * *

><p>At mass the next week, squeezed in between Stacie and old Mrs Jenkins, who was their ex-neighbour, Sam was trying to listen to their Pastor- because believe it or not he did have quite strong religious beliefs. It was getting increasingly difficult, because Stacie was squirming uncomfortably, and Mrs Jenkins was breathing heavily, and Sam was shivering, because it was cold for late spring in Ohio, and he didn't bring a coat.<p>

He doesn't expect anyone else will find out- he trusts Kurt to keep his promise, and he's sure that their Pastor has overlooked their situation, because it's been over a month since they got kicked out of their house, and if he hadn't done it by now, he wasn't likely to bring it up any time soon.

Of course, Sam had thought too quickly, and it was brought up at the very end of the mass, as they were praying for the needs of others.

"And we send our thoughts and prayers to the Evans family, who have recently been touched by the effects of the recession."

Sam could feel the stares, one in particular that was hauntingly familiar, boring into his back, accusingly, and he knows that he has to book it out of there if he wants to avoid Quinn's wrath, because, man is she scary when she wants to be.

He blesses himself a final time, and shuffles out of his pew, rushing for the back door.

He gets outside and down the gravel path, and is so close to escape that he can almost taste it, but then nails are digging sharply into his wrist and he's being dragged off to the side, and interrogated, and Quinn's hissing lowly, and quickly, and he can't make out a word she's saying, and he doesn't really want to put up with this, because he has to go back and get his siblings, because his parents will be out all day, again.

"Quinn." He said, bitingly, and she gapes, and shuts her mouth, primly.

"I have to go get Stevie and Stacie, but I'll explain everything tomorrow." She glares, an eyebrow quirked. "Please." She sighs and releases his arm.

"You'd better." She snaps, twirling on her heel, and storming away.

* * *

><p>Kurt had been coming over a lot since he found out- just over a week ago now- and increasingly so since he'd returned to Mc Kinley on the previous Tuesday.<p>

Stacie simply adored him- and not only because he would dress her up to look pretty, and watched Disney movies with her, and Stevie couldn't get over the fact that Kurt could beat him at Call of Duty- Sam couldn't and Noah couldn't, and not even that Finn guy could beat him.

"It was a nice challenge, playing you." Stevie had said, when he'd first been defeated by the countertenor. Kurt had laughed, loudly, and pulled the small blonde into a hug, ruffling his shaggy locks.

He made dinner one night, when the two teens had left the kids to watch some movie or another. Kurt had sat, making idle conversation with Sam, swapping stories of Dalton and McKinley respectively (Kurt had missed a lot, after all).

He had watched while Sam made an attempt at making edible food. After a few minutes of struggling with a tin of beans, Kurt had stood from his seat at the table, and taken the tin from his hands, and quickly put it through the tin opener, pouring the contents into a pot, and turning the cooker on to the correct heat setting.

So Sam had watched in awe at the ease at which Kurt manoeuvred his way around the tiny kitchenette. Kurt had rolled his eyes at Sam obliviousness, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'boys'.

The four of them sat down with the food, even though Kurt claimed that he wasn't going to eat anything.

Kurt's was really cool about everything, Sam had noticed, not sending him pitying looks or bringing up the Evans' situation, and causing awkward silences, or conversations. He was acting like it was completely normal, and for that Sam grateful- so grateful that he couldn't express it adequately.

He shot Sam a look as he left that night, one that said that he knows that this is difficult for Sam, and that Kurt will be there for Sam, and he wonders if this is how Kurt felt when he took that punch from Karofsky- standing up for the younger boy when his own almost step-brother wouldn't.

The friendship and solidarity that Kurt left him with after every visit made Sam feel like maybe he wasn't so alone, and maybe, it would be okay.

* * *

><p>"Hey." Rachel strode up to him, a determined air about her, and a bright smile on her face. It immediately made Sam wary.<p>

"Why are you talking to me?" Sam asked, suspiciously.

"Can't I say hello?" She said, blinking innocently, fingering a packet of something.

"I guess I just- Santana told me never to speak alone with you because you'd try to steal all of my gold. " It was a lame excuse, but there was something about Rachel's type of crazy that freaked him out, and could make any guy with a brain run for the hills.

She looked slightly confused, but pressed on, plastering a fake smile to her face now. "Okay, u-um, anyway. I got you this." She held out the packet of what turned out to be lip chap, and he took it from her apprehensively, only a little afraid of where this was going. "I know everyone is always making fun of your lips," She explained, when he shot her a questioning glance. "But I think they're cute, and worth weather proofing." Her smile was 100 watts, and frightening, but he smiled a half, crooked smile back.

"So considering that we're both single and I think your lips are cute, I was wondering if you would...go to prom with me?" She asked, hope glimmering in her doe brown eyes.

"As in your date?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yeah." She confirmed.

"No." He rushed out.

"No...no as in-" She stumbled over her words looking slightly hurt, and Sam almost felt bad.

"As in no prom. I don't think I'm going." He said, averting his gaze from her imploring eyes.

"Are you worried that Finn will be jealous?" She looked too hopeful, and Sam thought that it kind of sucked that she was asking him out when she was still in love with Finn.

"Look you're just not my type." He said, gently, knowing that she was probably fragile from the whole 'Fuinncident'. He wasn't even lying to her, she wasn't his type- Quinn hadn't really been either, and Santana had been a rebound. "Hey Rachel, so thanks for the lip chap."

As he walked away he saw one girl who was defiantly his type walk by, her arm wrapped securely around Kurt's, her plump lips smiling brightly at something the countertenor had said to her.

He sighed because he knew it wasn't going to happen; he couldn't even afford to take her out for a coffee- that was if he ever got the courage to ask her out.

He forced his way through the crowd, heading for the choir room for lunch time rehearsal, knowing there'd be an irate Quinn waiting for him.

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><p>Quinn had a short temper, and she wasn't pretty when she was mad. She cornered him outside Glee, her nails holding him in place.<p>

"When, exactly , were you planning on telling us?" Quinn asked, her eyes raking him up and down, with a harsh gleam in her eyes.

"I wasn't- please tell me you haven't told the others." He pleaded, eyes suddenly wide and horrified at the very thought.

She sighed, deflating, "No, I wanted to hear the truth from you first, before barging in there and telling everyone. I know how fast stuff spreads around at this school." And Sam remembered that she'd been pregnant the year before and how badly she must have been treated, and how he _wasn't_ going to end up like that.

He gave her the same version of events he'd given Kurt back a Dalton, and she'd nodded, and then he explained how Kurt found out, and she seemed confused, because he never was all that close to Kurt before.

"He's helping you out?" She asked, eyebrows rising into her hairline. "Is there anything I can do?" And this was more out of pity and obligation that out of friendship- he'd rushed into things with Quinn, and he later realised that he didn't really know her at all.

"Um, sure." He said, because it felt rude not to invite her over now that she'd offered. "Meet me at room 394." She nodded briskly, and retracted her nails from his skin, and squeezed his forearm in a manner he assumed was supposed to be comforting.

"When?" She asked, looking briefly around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping.

"Well, Wednesday night suits- Kurt can't come over because he has a mid-weekly date with Blaine." Sam said, aching for an escape route.

She nods and flounces into Glee, leaving him staring dumbly after her.

When he shakes himself out of his stupor and enters the choir room he can't help but feel that this practice won't be any help, because Mr Schue is late and it's already a good twenty minutes into their lunch break.

Sam was right, Mr Schue showed up late muttering something about Ms Pilsbury and fruit, telling them that he'd see them after school, and to 'enjoy the rest of your lunch'.

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><p>After school Quinn's sitting down, legs crossed and a notebook resting on her lap. She's scribbling away in it, and he rolls his eyes a little, opting to stand. He meets Mercedes' eyes for a brief second and can't help but smile at her.<p>

She gives a shy smile back and mouths 'hello'. He repeats the motion, and has no idea why they aren't speaking, but he thinks she looks adorable, and can't help but laugh, she giggles quietly, lowering her eyelashes a little, and looking away.

He kind of hopes that maybe she's blushing, because he can feel the slight heat on his face, but he can't tell. Maybe if he were a little closer he'd be able to see- or feel- the heat on her cheeks, but that might be a little weird.

Finn interrupts their little moment by rushing in, a fresh copy of the Muckraker in hand, shouting loudly.

"What the hell is this, dude?" He asks, "What blondie former cheerleader is having a secret moonlight motel rendezvous with another big lipped blondie?" He shoves the paper under Sam's nose, and Sam grabs one side of it eyes scanning the bold headlines.

"Where does it- where does it say that?" He asked, unable to find the article, and wondering how the hell someone had managed to get that in print so quickly.

"Right on the front page of the school newspaper." Finn retorts, jabbing a finger at the offending article.

Quinn appeared at Finn's side then, her hand curling around his bicep, "You don't seriously believe this do you?" She asked, staring up at him.

"Well why shouldn't I? Why wouldn't he do the same thing that I did to him?" Said Finn, he eyes blazing with anger, flickering between his girlfriend and Sam.

"Because it's gossip Finn." She soothes, trying to bring his attention away from the paper.

A distraction comes in the form of a raging Latina, who is also brandishing a newspaper, slightly more crumpled than Finn's copy.

"This is your fault." She shrieks, taking large angry strides towards Brittany, of all people. "You told everyone that I played for another team on your ridiculous melted cheese show. "

Brittany blinks at her, confused. "Wait, are you mad?" She questions, he head coking to the side a little. "You do play for another team." Brittany explained at the Latina's fierce look, "You were on the Cheerios, but now you're only in the New Directions."

Santana looked ready to blow, but at the blonde's words her eyes softened a little. "And you couldn't have thought of any other way to say that? " Santana accuses. Brittany just looks speechless, probably still unsure of what she did wrong.

It doesn't matter because suddenly Finn's in Sam's face again, "I swear I'm gonna punch your face off. " He shoves Sam's chest, and in his periphery Sam sees Mercedes jump a little, glaring at Finn.

Sam will think about that later, but he gives as good as he gets. "Hey, you've got a lot of nerve accusing me of cheating when you're the one who snuck in and stole my girl." Sam shoves him back, and, suddenly can't really bring himself to see reason- how much of a hypocrite can one person be?

Quinn attempts to step between them, "Stop it! Stop it, both of you!" He efforts are futile, but it doesn't really matter because Mr Schue steps between the two boys.

"Hey." The teacher said, looking from one to the other, pushing them apart. Quinn retreats, and Finn, glares at Sam over Mr Schue's curls, and storms away. "Hey Finn where are you going? Hey, we've got rehearsal!" Mr Schue calls after the upset teenager.

"Not today." Finn declares, and is gone.

Sam looks over to Quinn apologetically, and she jerks her head up and looks away.

He doesn't see the sad smile on Mercedes' face as she watches the two interact.

* * *

><p>Sam gets a lot of dirty looks the next day, from the jocks, from a few random girls, and from Puck- who had no right to say anything, even though the rumours weren't true.<p>

He stepped into Glee apprehensively, taking the nearest available seat-which just happened to be beside Mercedes- and sliding down in it as best he could.

Mr Schue introduced them to April Rhodes, whom everyone seemed to know already, as smiles and happy looks were exchanged all around him.

She sang a song from an old Fleetwood Mac album that Sam hadn't heard in quite a while, but he remembered the beat and the woman- April- had a nice voice, clear and sweet, and it harmonised with Mr Schue's really well.

He tapped his foot to the beat, and when he looked around at the others he shared a small smile with Mercedes, and saw Kurt stare at him thoughtfully.

Sam turned back to the front quickly after that, keeping his head down.

He tuned all sounds out soon enough, catching the beginning of one of Mr Schue's lectures, before zoning out.

Kurt had given Sam a lift back to the motel after school, and decided that, since Sam's parents were out, he would stay and help with dinner again.

Sam actually learned something this time around, as Kurt showed him the correct way to make a baked potato, telling him that they'd have to leave it for a while, and dragging him back into hang out with Stevie and Stacie.

Stacie immediately held her hairbrush out when she saw Kurt, and he laughed brightly, and took it from her tiny hands, and sitting criss-cross apple sauce behind her. Sam jumped up beside Stevie on the bed as Kurt took Stacie's long blonde locks in hand, and brushed through the fine strands gently.

Stevie elbowed Sam, and he flinched. "What's wrong little man?" Sam asked, wrapping an arm around his little brother.

"Nothing, I'm just glad that you've got Kurt- he's really awesome." Sam stared down at Stevie, whose bright blue eyes were innocent and sincere.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, not really sure what Stevie was getting at with this line of conversation.

"It's just that those other guys you have 'round aren't nearly as nice as Kurt is, and he doesn't make fun of you ever- at least not in a mean way, and I think that Stacie's, like, in love with him or something- and he told me that if I ever wanted anyone to hang out with I'm allowed to call him at home and he'd come over right away." And Stevie looked almost defensive at the last statement, an unsaid 'so there' hanging at the end of the sentence.

"That's awesome, Stevie. Kurt's a really good friend of mine, and I'm glad you like him." Sam said, ruffling Stevie's hair, "Wait, what do you mean, Stacie's in love with him?" Sam asked, confused.

"She's always hanging out with him when he's here, and she likes staring at him all the time, and she never stops talking about him, even at school. All the other girls are jealous." Stevie confides.

Sam has to swallow a chuckle. "Well, maybe we'll have to break it to her gently." Sam said, crossing his ankles, and slipping a hand behind his head.

"Break what to her?" Stevie asked, looking almost afraid.

Sam's not really sure what he should tell Stevie, but he figures that his little brother has been lied to about their situation enough in the past few months that he deserves the truth about something. "Well, Kurt has a boyfriend." Sam replied, waiting for his brother's reaction.

Stevie looked thoughtful, concentrating so hard that he went momentarily cross-eyed.

There was a shift on the mattress, and Sam idly noted that Kurt and Stacie had gone into the kitchenette.

"They can do that?" Stevie asks finally. "I mean, two guys can be boyfriends like a guy and girl are boyfriend and girlfriend?"Sam nodded, and was relieved to see that Stevie was scrunching up his nose, and going 'ew', or worse.

"That's awesome... But if Kurt's boyfriend ever hurts Kurt imma have to go crazy on him." Stevie nodded briskly to emphasise his point, and crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to look intimidating.

Sam laughs loudly, and pulls Stevie into his side, hugging the younger boy tightly. "Thank you." Sam whispers, and before Stevie can ask 'what for?' Kurt shouts in to them.

"Dinner's ready."

Sam and Stevie scramble over each other to get there first and Sam ends up face planted on the floor. He just giggles a bit to himself, and stays there, feeling no compulsion to move.

He can feel eyes staring at him amusedly, and he turns his head to the side to see Kurt staring at him from the door to the kitchenette. The brunette pushes away from the doorjamb and holds out a hand, which Sam grasps, allowing the younger boy to haul him to his feet.

"Thanks." Sam mumbles, looking over Kurt's shoulder to see his siblings around the tiny table that's shoved into the corner of the kitchen, squabbling playfully, and eating their dinner like they hadn't a care in the world.

Sam looks back at Kurt, and he really feels the gratitude, and he could cry because, where would Sam have been this past week or so without Kurt? Kurt who's just smiling and waving off his help like it's nothing?

"Seriously, Kurt. Thank you." And Sam really didn't know how to express himself, because Kurt really was too much, and somehow it's not weird that they're still holding hands, because yeah Kurt's gay, but he has a boyfriend, that he loves, and Sam doesn't swing that way, so why should it matter?

Sam does the only thing he can think of to do then, what he would do had it been anyone else- he pulled Kurt into a hug.

Kurt seems shocked at first but easily snakes his arms around Sam's waist and it feels nice to have someone just hold him for once, so Sam squeezes Kurt tightly, and buries his face in the crook of Kurt's neck.

It's not a hug anymore, but more of a cuddle, and Sam can't remember he just cuddled with somebody for the heck of it, and he thinks, being in Kurt's arms, that he should try it more often.

When Sam pulls away, he's a little embarrassed, and he avoids Kurt's eyes, but the countertenor just laughs, and tell him to quit being stupid. "Everyone needs a good cuddle now and then- Blaine's an absolute cuddle-whore, it's insane. My arms are always open." And he tacked something on at the end, but Sam's certain that it's his brain messing things up, because there's no way that Kurt said 'and I'm sure Mercy wouldn't be opposed either." But then Kurt winks and Sam knows he did hear it, and he could _kill_ Stacie, because she was supposed to keep his crush on the fierce, self proclaimed diva a secret.

Sam puts his burning red face into his hands and groans. "Please, don't tell her." Sam pleads, his voice muffled by his hands.

He spreads his fingers a little and sees Kurt nod.

"If you're sure." Kurt agrees.

"I...just...I can't even do anything about it, you know? I can't do anything for her." Sam knows he must sound desperate, but he didn't want Kurt telling Mercedes in case she didn't feel the same way- that would be almost as bad as her reciprocating his tentative feelings for her, only to have her hopes dashed when she realised that they couldn't even go out on a proper date.

"Yeah, Sam. I know. Go get your dinner. I'll wait in here." Kurt said, reassuringly, and Sam does sit with his siblings who have stopped arguing and now look dog-tired. He scoffs his food, suddenly ravenous.

He gathers their plates and drops them in the sink, mentally reminding himself to wash them later. He frog marches Stacie and Stevie into the bedroom and orders them to get into the pyjamas. They comply right off the bat, but Stacie peeks her head out of the bathroom moments after she goes inside.

"Can you sing us to sleep, Sammie?" She asks, her voice laced with sleep, and her eyes lids droopy. Sam doesn't really feel like singing, but he knows that if it'll help them sleep he'll do anything.

"Sure, sweetie." He said, and made a shooing motion with his hands, and her blonde head disappeared back behind the door.

When she comes out Stevie goes in, ordering them not to start singing without him. The authority in his voice and the seriousness of his request are pretty adorable, and Sam kind of misses being that age.

Kurt places a hand gently on Sam's shoulder, and Sam looks at him. "Should I go now?" He asked quietly, but not quietly enough, because Stacie heard, and protested immediately.

"You have to sing for us, too, Kurt." She said, her eyes wide, and her lips pouting. "Please?" She pleaded.

Kurt smiles gently at her.

"Sure Stace, sure." Said Kurt, going to sit beside her, tucking her under the blankets, and plumping her pillow. Stacie cuddled into the bed, and grinned toothily up at Kurt, seeming pleased with her new nickname, and then over at Sam, who was watching them interact fondly.

Sam joined them, taking Stacie's other side, but leaving enough room Stevie, who jumped onto the bed making it bounce, and nearly causing Kurt to go flying off the edge of the giant bed. When both kids were settled and comfortable, they both turned to Sam with doe eyes, and the blonde teen shrugged helplessly at Kurt, unsure as to what he could sing.

Kurt's face lit up with a grin after a few minutes, and he began singing a lilting lullaby that Sam had never heard before. It was sweet and soothing, and Sam watched as Stacie yawned, a muffled "Pretty." Escaping her lips as her eyes closed.

Stevie, unlike his sister, was attempting to stay awake to hear the end of the melody, but Kurt smiled, and placed a hand over the boys' eyes, forcing them shut, and smiling gently when Stevie kept his eyes closed and his breathing gradually evened out.

Kurt held the last note of the lullaby for a few seconds, and then it was silent.

When Sam was certain that they were both out cold, he stood, and gestured for Kurt to do the same. The countertenor, stood, and stretched a little, shrugging his jacket on and slipping his messenger bag over his shoulder. He fiddled with his hair for a minute, checking himself in a compact mirror.

He sidled up to Sam, speaking quietly, "I left the clothes I told you about the other day on top of your suitcase, they should fit you well enough." Sam whispered his thanks, and lead the way outside, allowing Kurt to half-shut the door on his way out.

Kurt placed a warm hand on Sam's bicep, and said, "I'll see you tomorrow." And Sam grasped Kurt's upper arm, squeezing it in thanks.

"Yeah, thanks." Sam said.

Sam watches Kurt leave, hands slipping into his jeans pockets, waiting until the younger boy climbs into his car, before heading back inside, his hands rubbing together for heat.

The kids are sound asleep, and Sam grabs his school bag, flopping on his bed, and taking out his calc homework.

He puzzled the questions for a long while, before giving up, slamming his books shut and throwing his pen a the nearest wall. Numbers had never been his strong point, and they only served to give him a headache.

Sam rolled off the bed, crawling over to his suitcase, and jerking the plastic bag off the top of it.

It's mainly old t-shirts and jean, with a couple of jackets, that aren't too flashy, and are kind of Sam's style. He inspects a long brown one, with a turquoise pattern snaking up the back, and decides that he could totally wear it to school tomorrow. He sets it off to the side, and refolds the remaining articles of clothing, setting them into his half empty case, and thanking God for Kurt Hummel.

It's just as he closes the lid of his case that his parents wander in, looking exhausted and weary. Sam frowns at them. "No luck?" He asks, and when they shake their heads dejectedly Sam feels his heart plummet, and it's all he can do not to curl up on his bed and cry; instead he swaths himself in blankets and reminds himself firmly that crying doesn't help anything.

* * *

><p>Sam stops by Kurt's locker shortly on Wednesday morning, to thank him again, for the clothes. Kurt waves him off casually, and tells him not to worry about it. "I'll see you Glee later, Sam." Kurt said, almost distractedly staring into his locker, Sam peeks inside and see a picture of Blaine, decked out in full Dalton uniform, with a cut out collage of the word 'Courage' hanging beneath it.<p>

Sam snorted audibly, and walked away, muttering to himself, 'Bye to you too Kurt." He passes by Mercedes and Tina, who are standing by Tina's locker and he smiles at them, and he thinks that he sees Tina nudge Mercedes and giggle, but it was likely a product of his imagination.

He also walks by Rachel, who's wearing a bright pink button up cardigan, and clutching a folder to her chest. She looks him up and down, eyes wide, and her strides lengthen, and pick up pace, and she's got this scary look of determination on her face, and when he looks back at her, she's heading straight for Kurt.

He doubles back, and slips into an empty classroom near Kurt's locker, and picks up on their conversation.

"Stop it." Rachel commands.

"Stop what?" Kurt asked, sounding a little exasperated.

"I am begging you." Rachel pleads, "Sam is cute, but he's not worth losing Blaine over." Rachel wheedles, and Sam is gobsmacked because, _seriously_? Quinn _and_ Kurt?

Kurt's remark was dry and witty, "Oh, how I've missed your insanity." And Sam wanted to laugh because it was so _Kurt_, that he was surprised he hadn't seen it coming.

"He's wearing your jacket, Kurt." Rachel scolds. "I remember that jacket, you wore it April of last year, you said it was your earth day jacket because it was made out of recycled hem." She took a quick breath, and picked up her rant. "I know how these things work; I remember when Finn and I used to date, sometimes he would leave his letterman jacket at my house and I'd wear it to school the next day." And it would make sense to anyone on the outside- if Sam was actually gay, and Kurt wasn't so in love with Blaine that they'd probably end up married some day.

"Okay you need to bone up on your Fleetwood Mac-ology." Kurt sounded a little tired of Rachel, and Sam couldn't really blame him. "When they made _Rumours_ they weren't speaking to each other. Not even 'pass the non-dairy creamer'. They only spoke about the music. And it was that focus that allowed them to make their masterpiece." Okay, Sam wasn't really sure where he was going with this.

"You're deflecting." Rachel accused, and Sam imagined that she was pointing a finger at Kurt, looking scandalised.

"No, I'm being a team player." Kurt corrected. "And any minute spent on this vicious, hurtful and hateful gossip is a minute taking away from preparing for nationals." Sam wishes he could see the look he just knows Kurt is giving Rachel at that moment, because he's sure Rachel's reaction to it would be priceless.

There's the slam of a locker, and the sound of retreating boots.

* * *

><p>Sam knows that Kurt blew Rachel's accusations off pretty easily, but some of Rachel's words had been floating around his mind all morning.<p>

_But he's not worth losing Blaine over...But he's not worth losing Blaine over._

Sam caught up with Kurt just before the end of lunch- he found the younger boy, sitting in the middle of two rows of bookshelves, surrounded by open texts, scribbling furiously into a blue and green swirly notebook.

"Hey, Kurt." Sam, whispered, aware that the librarians wrath wasn't something you wanted to evoke.

"Oh, hi, Sam." Kurt said distractedly, glasz eyes scanning a paragraph, and muttering rapidly to himself.

"Listen, I overheard your conversation with Rachel earlier." Sam began, but was cut off with a snort.

"Oh, _that_. Ignore her, Sam, she's insane." Kurt consoled, sparing Sam glance, before diving back into the text on his lap.

Sam sighed heavily, and slid to the floor beside Kurt, shaking his head trying to get rid of those horrible words.

"Is what she said true?" Sam, asked, in a small, frightened voice, not really wanting to know the answer, but knowing that he needed to hear confirmation that he wasn't distancing Kurt from Blaine.

Kurt grumbled little, and snapped his book shut, stuffing it into his messenger bag.

"She said an awful lot- Rachel tends to do that." Kurt said waspishly, raising an eyebrow at Sam's sheepish grin.

"I want to know if you spending so much time with me is affecting your relationship with Blaine." Sam muttered.

Kurt laughed, the almost-sneer dropping from his face instantaneously. "God, no...just no." Sam was highly affronted- he was genuinely worried about Kurt!

Kurt saw the petty look on Sam's face and quietened himself. "Sorry." Kurt coughed. "I want you to know that you're almost as insane as she is." Kurt informed him primly, slotting the books he'd removed back into their places.

When Sam just looked incredulous, Kurt sighed. "Listen, firstly, Blaine and I actually trust each other- if he heard these ridiculous rumours he'd talk to me about them before jumping to conclusions." Kurt stated. "And secondly, I've told him that I'm spending time with you, for reasons I'm not in any position to disclose. He said that's fine. He knows that I care about him too much to cheat on him. Like I said. _Trust_."

Sam exhaled sharply, relieved. Kurt dusted off his grey jacket, and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Now," Kurt smirked, "Quit being an idiot and get to class. I'll see you later." And he practically skipped out of the room, humming lightly, and chucking to himself on the way.

Sam stood, shaking his head. He'd been an idiot. He should have known really- just because he'd gotten to the dysfunctionality of the New Directions didn't mean that there weren't healthy, working relationships out there.

* * *

><p>He sat beside Mercedes in Glee again, Kurt leaning forward on her other side. She gave him a discreet 'hello' smile, and wave, and turned back to her conversation with Kurt, that seemed to revolve around his date with Blaine later, and some new line of fashion that Sam had never heard of before.<p>

Sam relaxed into his chair, and decided that listening to Mercedes gush about something she loved was a brilliant way to spend Glee.

* * *

><p>Quinn arrived a little later than she said she'd be that night- they've already had their dinner, but she clicks with Stacie right away chatting amicably about dolls and the latest Disney movie, and how Stacie wants to grow her hair out to be exactly like Rapunzel's.<p>

Sam does his homework while they play dress up, and watch TV, and he can see Stevie sulking a little in the kitchen.

Sam finishes up his Spanish II with a period and shuffles into the kitchen. "What's wrong little man?" Sam asked, sliding to the floor beside Stevie, poking his side.

Stevie squirmed and tried to fight a smile, "I don't like her." Stevie complained, huffing.

"Why not?" Sam asked, a little confused. Stevie hadn't actually spent any time with Quinn, and she wasn't all bad, when she wasn't being all 'scary Quinn'.

"She's no fun." Stevie explained, slowly, as if it should be obvious. "I can't believe you went out with her." Stevie raised a blonde eyebrow at him.

Honestly? Sam didn't know why either, but that wasn't the point.

"Cheer up," Sam poked him again and stood. "Come on, we'll monopolise the telly for a bit, tell them to take their gossip elsewhere." Stevie grinned and skipped into the bedroom, regally informing the girls to hand over the remote.

Stevie kicked Sam's ass at CoD, and eventually Sam had to get up and pace, aggravated. Sam could see Quinn staring at him amusedly, smiling, and whispering something into Stacie's ear, making the younger girl laugh. Sam rolled his eyes at them, and checked his watch.

"Bed, guys." He declared, and Stevie groaned, calling dibs on the bathroom. Stacie agreed and asked Quinn to finish of her platt. Quinn's hands made quick work of Stacie's hair, and she stood, brushing her dress off, and grabbing her denim jacket from the back of a chair.

He told the kids to climb into bed, and he'd be back inside in a minute.

He walked Quinn out, and she hugged him tightly. "If you ever need me to call around again, just let me know." She whispered, breath tickling his cheek. He hugged her tighter, knowing that things were still a little awkward between them, but that she meant well; and maybe this was the start of mending a friendship.

"Thanks, Stacie had a lot of fun." He said letting her go.

"She's sweet." Quinn replied, smiling, and headed off, her long blonde hair swaying in the breeze.

Sam thinks that he should probably have a chat with Stevie about thinking a little better of Quinn.

* * *

><p>The next day was spent entirely with his family, discussing where they'd go from there on out, and he couldn't remember any question that had been asked after he'd answered it, and he couldn't think straight, because it was all so <em>difficult<em>, and _confusing_ and he was only seventeen and he shouldn't have to deal with this crap yet.

And to top it all off, he had to go to work in an hour and he was just so tired.

He got up, shrugged on his jumper, stuffed his regulation hat on his head and booked it out the door, knowing he's have to walk to the Pizza Hut, and it was a good couple miles off.

* * *

><p>Glee was going well- no one was arguing, and no accusations were flying, not to mention that Rachel's cover of 'Go your own way' was pretty amazing.<p>

He bopped along, feeling the beat and letting go, he could sense Quinn's aggravation at Rachel but it didn't really matter because he was having fun- and this was the one place where nothing but the music mattered.

He let himself go- he could vaguely see Mercedes air-drumming, and Mike was singing in his ear, Puck was going all out on the guitar, and it sounded pretty wicked. Sam played the air guitar along with the small solo.

"Really nice." Sam complimented, as the last strain of the guitar faded.

Rachel smiled at them all, stepping away from her microphone, looking accomplished.

As it was Glee, Sam should have expected so sort of drama- it was kind of their thing, not to mention the vibes Quinn was giving off right now weren't exactly subtle, so it shouldn't have surprised Sam when she snapped at Rachel.

Rachel retorts, and his name is mentioned and then suddenly everyone is blaming him for everything.

_I blame Sam for all of this...guilt...they both have boyfriends._

Puck's being such a hypocrite that Sam can't really handle this anymore, and this has got to be hard on Quinn and Kurt too, and they're just sitting there, taking all this crap for his sake, and it's not fair; on him, or them.

"Shut up! I'm not messing around with Quinn or Kurt or any one of those guys. They're just helping me." He snaps, turning around in his chair to face the rest of the New Directions.

Mercedes is the next one to speak, and she looks a little sad, and her voice is bitter. "Oh, is that what we're calling it now? " And those words hurt a lot, because somehow Sam always thought that she was different- he always thought that she would hear somebody- hear him- out before jumping to conclusions.

And if he's not mistaken there's a little hint of jealousy in her voice- and maybe he's imagining it, or just getting his hopes up, but he wants to tell her that she doesn't need to be jealous, because it's all lies, and he doesn't want anyone but her- but he can't because then he'd have to follow that up with something, and he has nothing to give her.

"Wait, hold on." Mr Schue interrupts, "How were they helping you out?"

Sam knows better than to lie to a teacher, and he supposed that it was going to have to come out at some point. He sighed.

"Kurt was bringing me some clothes and Quinn was helping me babysit my little brother and sister." He admitted.

Finn looks curious, and still suspicious. "Then why were you in that motel?" The Frankenteen asked.

"Because that's where I live now." Sam spat, "My dad lost his job a few months ago, and then we lost our house, so now we live in that motel in one room." There was a silence as everyone stared at him- everyone but Quinn and Kurt, the latter was glaring at his team mates, and Quinn was staring at her fingers like they were the most fascinating things on the planet.

"Are you all happy?" He added, standing, and he sees Mercedes flinch. "The truth's finally out." He can't look at them anymore, he can't be in the Sam room as them.

As he storms out he can feel her eyes following him.

* * *

><p>When there's knock on the door that afternoon, Sam isn't sure who to expect- maybe Quinn, though it's more likely to be Kurt. So when he sees Finn and Rachel standing on his stoop it's his immediate impulse to slam the door in their faces- and he would have, if he hadn't been raised better than that.<p>

"Um, I'm trying to get my sister to sleep." He mutters, trying to close the door.

"Dude please," Finn begged, grabbing the door, "Please, just let us in."

Stacie appears at his side, staring up at the two strangers.

"Hi, I'm Stacie." She introduces herself, smiling.

Rachel smiles awkwardly, "Hi, Stacie, I-I'm Rachel," Rachel replies, stuttering over her words a little. "This is Finn" She adds pointing at her ex-boyfriend.

"Hi." Finn said, looking down at Sam's little sister with gentle eyes.

"Well she's –she's up now." Sam states dumbly, opening the door wide, to let them in, seeing no other way out of this situation.

They look around, a little uncomfortable, Finn closing the door quietly. "It beats a cardboard box underneath an underpass, right? We keep the rest of our stuff in my dad's car." Sam explains, for lack of anything better to say.

"This is everything you own?" Rachel asked, shocked, her doe eyes wide.

"We sold everything else." His voice is curt.

Stevie pokes Sam in the back, and he looks at his little brother questioningly. "Can we watch TV?" Stevie asks, when he's got Sam's full attention.

"Yeah," Sam said, grabbing Stevie around the waist and chucking him onto the bed. "Sure, keep it low, though. Mr Jensen next door is on the night shift again. You want a snack?" Sam inquires, switching the TV on.

"I'll wait." Stevie replies, getting comfortable.

Sam grabs Stacie, who looks unsure as to whether she should stay with Sam or settle down and watch TV too. "You, too, get over there." Sam said, throwing Stacie up beside her brother, she face plants and giggles to herself.

Sam turns back to his guests, the smile that had lit his face falling at the looks on theirs (faces, that is) "I-I don't understand, what happened?"Finn asked, confused.

"We moved up here from Tennessee, you know, 'cause my dad got a great job offer and the economy went to hell, and it's last ones in first ones out. You know we spent all our savings on the move and a down payment on the house " He took a deep breath. "You know when the bank takes your house they literally...take it. They come by one morning and kick you out of your own house. Just lock you out."

God, when he got going there was no stopping his rambling was there?

"Why didn't you tell us what was going on?" Finn asked, and Sam was slightly surprised by the genuinely sorry looks on their faces.

"You see how information flies around that school right?" Sam asked, rhetorically, "You think everyone would've just treated me the same after they found out? I'd be even more of a freak. Kurt only found out because I got a job delivering pizzas at night and happened to bring one to Dalton."

"Yeah, he told us." Finn shot a look at Rachel. "Look, I brought these for you." Finn said, handing over a worn bag that was bulging at the seams. "I know Kurt was tryin' to help you out, bringing some of his old clothes, but I don't really think that sequined riding pants are for you. " Sam half smiled, knowing that they weren't his style- and that Kurt, himself, had obviously figured that out and had only sent him clothes that Sam would be comfortable in. "So it's some of my old stuff."

"Thanks." Thanks Sam mumbled, looking away from their kind gazes.

"So, um, what about Quinn?" Rachel asked, looking sheepish, slightly ashamed and a bit apologetic.

"We go to the same church. Couldn't really hide it from her and I kinda like having her around to do some girl stuff with Stacie." Sam told her, "Mom and dad are out all day, pounding the pavement looking for work, but...nothing. Not even sure if gonna be able to keep on the Glee club." He could hear the bitter edge in his own voice at the latter statement.

"What?" Finn exclaimed, "No, you can't do that."

"Yeah, um, we've come so far and I-I know that it's a rough time right now, but you can't quit." Rachel agreed, quickly, looking at him imploringly.

Sam shook his head, "You guys don't understand." He told them- he didn't really expect them to understand.

Rachel sends his a look that he assumes is supposed to be reassuring- it's not. "Yes we do." She nods at Finn who goes to the door, grabbing something from the stoop, and Sam's nervous about what it could be.

"Quinn told us you hocked your guitar." Finn explains, presenting his old guitar case with a flourish.

Sam grabs it and lays it out flat, kneeling beside it, and feeling the rough leather beneath his hands, familiar, and comforting. He flips the latches and opens it, and sees his old, trusty guitar lying there, the sticker he'd put on it when he was 12 still attached to it.

"Did you guys buy this back for me?" Sam asked, staring at them both, incredulous, his voice taut with emotion.

"The whole Glee club did." Rachel told him, smiling again. "Look Sam we'll do whatever we can to help," At this Sam buries his face in one hand, feeling his nose tingling, and the tears prickling, he rubs at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, "_Anything_ to keep you in the glee club, until you get back on your feet."

Sam sniffed and sighed a few times, trying to suppress the emotions welling up in his chest. "First time I've cried." He said, throat clogged up, feeling overwhelmed.

Stacie comes up behind him, curious. "Don't cry Sammy. " She pleads, when she sees his reddened eyes. She placed her hands on his shoulders and laid her little head on his shoulder blade.

"We need you Sam, okay?" Rachel said, earnestly."And you need the music." Sam stares up at her with red eyes. He grabbed his guitar from the its' case and set the case to the side, thanking them both profusely.

He's pulled into an awkward group hug, his guitar squished between the three of them. When they pull away they make their excuses and he escorts them to the door.

Sam shuts the door, guitar still in hand and flops in between his siblings, who curl up on either side of him, He loves the feeling of having his guitar back in his arms, the comfort and security it brings him. He strums a few chords, and revels in the calming sound.

* * *

><p>"Hey everybody." Sam said, walking into Glee for Saturday afternoon practice, one sibling attached to each hand. "I kinda wanted to get these guys outta the motel for a little while, I hope it's okay if I brought them. " Sam explained when Mr Schue sent him a questioning glance.<p>

"Of course, of course, yeah, come on in." Mr Schue said, smiling encouragingly at Sam's siblings.

Sam let go of them and they scrambled over to sit with Quinn. "I was also hoping that maybe they could help out with the number today- I have the perfect song that I wanna sing to them." Mr Schue looked doubtful, and Sam was quick to reassure him, "Don't worry it's good for the assignment Mr Schue."

Mr Schue smiled and placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "The more the merrier." He said, and lead the way to the auditorium.

Sam hung back, and walked with Mercedes.

"Hi." She mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"Hey 'Cedes." Sam replied, smiling softly at her- yes it still stung that she had been so quick to judge him, but he knew that she was truly repentant.

She risked a glance at him, and when she saw his smile she sighed, relieved. "Oh, Sam I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gone all diva on you. I should have known better." Her voice caught, and he wanted to reach out and hug her. "I should have known you wouldn't do that- heck I should have known that Kurt wouldn't do that to Blaine. I think he's still angry at me." She confessed.

"It's okay." He told her. "I understand why Kurt's mad at you though- maybe you should apologise, you know, just to let him know."

Sam held the auditorium door open for her, and she stepped under his outstretched arm, mumbling her thanks. When the door swung shut she wrapped her arms around his in a breath-taking hug- he quite literally stopped breathing for a second because he hadn't let himself imagine how good she'd feel in his arms.

He hugged her back quickly, not willing to let this opportunity fade away, before he'd taken full advantage of it.

Sam strummed the opening chords of 'Don't stop' letting the piano melt into the soft strumming. He launches into the opening verse, Quinn joining in soon after, and when the chorus starts everyone is suddenly there, and everyone's singing and dancing and enjoying themselves, and he veers off to the side, to stand with Stevie and Stacie.

He can't help but stare at Mercedes- she looks lovely in her most natural environment, and her face lights up when she sings, and she belongs on that stage, she owns it, even though she's not taking a solo- not even a few lines. and can't help staring at Mercy.

Quinn and Finn materialise beside the three siblings, taking Stevie and Stacie, respectively, out to dance.

Sam follows them, believing the words he's singing- because he has to have that hope- that one day (maybe tomorrow, or the day after, maybe weeks from now) he'll be living in an actual house, and that the money he makes delivering pizzas will be spent on coffee, or a movie; and maybe these occurrences will be with Mercedes, and maybe it'll be a date.

Maybe he won't have to worry about getting food on the table for his siblings, or how they're going to pay for the motel room, or if he can really afford to give up the shift to do homework.

And he's still singing, and playing his guitar, but then suddenly Kurt's there and his arms are slipping around Sam and tugging his guitar over Sam's head, and he panics a little because he's only just gotten it back, but then he's being hoisted onto Mike and Puck's shoulders, and Finn's hand is on his back, steadying him, and he feels, just for that moment that he's on top of the world, and that yeah, anything's possible.

From his vantage point he can see everyone staring up at him, he can see their smiles and feel the love and security, and for the first time since he transferred to McKinley he can feel that sense of family that everyone in Glee club is always going on about; all thirteen of them- they're his family too.

A weird, dysfunctional, incestuous family, but a family all the same.

He's set back down and he's twirling Stacie around, she's giggling and her eyes are lit up, and it's been so long since she's been so happy, and carefree- the way a child should be, and Sam's heart breaks a little for her.

He can see Mercedes smiling at him out of his periphery as he puts Stacie down and grabs Stevie, and Sam can't help but smile because he's surrounded by the people he loves the most. Sam's holding Stevie bridal style as the music fades to the background, and the two brothers are grinning stupidly at each other.

Then he's being hugged from all sides, by everyone- everyone but Mercedes, but he doesn't mind because the hug they shared before meant so much more to him.

He can see the bright, infectious smile on her plump lips and he thinks that maybe tomorrow would be worth waiting for, if tomorrow had that smile waiting for him.

So he wouldn't stop thinking about tomorrow, because it could only be better than today.

* * *

><p>Well, let me know what you think. Reviews are like crack to me.<p>

Coming up next: PROM!

Love, and hugs (maybe),

Heal My Bleeding Heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh my gosh, you guys! I'm literally blown away by the response I've recieved from you all! 15 reviews! I'm pretty sure I cried at one point, you've all been so amazing!

I loved writing this chapter simply because there was so much Samcedes interaction. Like I didn't notice RIB, like I didn't notice.

I'm not too sure about the beginning, because it's of my own creation, but I think it went well enough.

I was informed that I slipped a few times on tenses in the last chapter, and I think I've getten better this chapter, but be sure to let me know if you see any mistakes.

Dsiclaimer- Um, I couldn't have written that amazing scene in The Lima Bean in the Finale, I'm just not that amazing. I also don't own Walt Disney's 'Toy Story 3'. ;P.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 2.<strong>_

Sam's stuck working on his birthday- which kind of sucks, but it's a pretty slow day, so he gets to go home early, which is pretty amazing, because in the four months he's been working there he's never once gotten off early.

He turned the key in the lock, and stumbled through the motel room door, kicking off his shoes, and discarding his t-shirt, because really Ohio weather is kind of unpredictable, and it had been hot all day, and he'd been stuck in that freaking van for the past few hours.

He kicked the door shut, and flopped onto the nearest bed, groaning at the feel of the lumpy mattress. He's planned out the rest of his day- he's going to grab a hot shower and lounge about for a little while- until Stacie and Stevie come home from Mrs Jensen's. He stands to do just that, when there's a knock- one he doesn't recognise- at the door.

He stuffs a t-shirt on and yanks the door open, hoping that Mrs Jensen form next door didn't see him come home and decide to leave Stevie and Stacie off early.

It's Mercedes, brightly dressed, and looking slightly unsure of herself- which kind of freaks Sam out a little because, it's _Mercedes_.

"Hey, Sam." She said, straightening up, and looking him right in the eyes. "I, um, I asked Kurt where I could find you, but he said he wasn't sure if you were working or not. You're not. Obviously." She chuckled humourlessly.

Sam steps aside and gestures for her to come in.

"It's kind of a mess, and my parents are out- Stevie and Stace will be home soon though. I really need to clean up." Sam rambled, fixing beds and picking up stray pieces of clothing as he speaks.

As he's picking up Stacie's teddy panda Mercedes touched his arm briefly. He dropped the panda, turning to face her.

"Sam, we're friends, right?" Sam nodded. "Then calm down. This shouldn't be so awkward." Sam sighed, half laughing.

"I know. Come here." He beckoned, holding his arms open. She gave him a quick hug.

"How've you been, Sam?" She asked sitting down on the edge of Stacie's bed. Sam followed suit, and propped his face up in a cupped palm.

"It's sucky, but we're gonna have to go somewhere, right? It's only up from here." He told her. Mercedes nodded.

"I wasn't talking about your situation Sam, I was talking about you, in general." Mercedes said, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

"Oh, well, I'm good. You know, school still sucks- I've got this English Lit assignment due in next week, and I haven't even read the whole text for it yet." He admitted.

"Oh, from Mr Mason's class?" She asked, and Sam nodded the affirmative. She winced. "I just finished it before I came over- it's not exactly my favourite piece of literature, but the assignment itself was easy enough, once you've gotten the gist of the storyline and a good grasp of the characters."

Sam spoke before he registered even thinking the words, "Would you help me out? I mean, my dyslexia doesn't really help, and the wording is really confusing." He was certain if it had been anyone but Mercedes- or maybe, you know, Finn, who found it just as confusing as Sam did- he would never have confessed to that.

"Sure, do you have your copy here, or did you leave it in your locker?" She asked.

"What now? Um, yeah, sure, one second." He hoked around for his bag, and pulled the book out from its nestling crook. He handed it over, and sidled up to Mercedes so that they could both read it.

"Well, it starts off pretty simply, but I know that you get letters and symbols and numbers mixed up, so if it gets confusing just let me know, m'kay?" They read quietly for a little while, getting through the first three chapters and a few A5 sheets of notes, with only a few stumbles, and one reach for a dictionary, before Sam's stomach interrupted them.

Sam blushed, and Mercedes smirked at him. "Come on, white boy, let's take a little snack break." She closed the book, and stood, making her own way to the kitchen.

Mercedes, for the record, made awesome PB&J sandwiches. Like, really.

Sam slumped backwards on his bed, and moaned. "Thanks 'Cedes. Can I keep you, forever?" He asked, only half joking. He's sure that' she spiked the sandwiches, somehow, because he was drunk on them, or something.

"Pfft," She scoffed, punching his arm lightly. "You only want me for my cooking."

"Hmm, not true." He argued. "You're totally awesome Mercy- you're like an amazing singer, and you stand up for you, and what you believe in, and imma stop rambling now..."

"Alright Sammie-boy." She said, hoisting him into a sitting position. "No sleeping for you- your little siblings are coming home soon." She reminded him.

"Don't wanna." He complained.

"Tough, honey. Up and at 'em." She re-packed his school bag, and picked up the panda bear from earlier, setting it on top of Stacie's Powerpuff Girls sheets.

Just as she was smoothing down the bedding there was a knock on the door. "Samuel?" Mrs Jensen said. "Will you get the door, please?" Mercedes shot him and exasperated look, and she opened the door herself, to an elderly lady with a strict, greying bun, and two scruffy children.

"Hello." The diva greeted. "You must be Mrs Jensen. Sam's decided to be lazy right now, so I'll take these two off your hands. Mercedes Jones, by the way." She introduced. Sam saw her hold her hand out to his siblings. "Hey, Stacie, Stevie. What do you say to helping wake get your brother out of his pit?" Sam couldn't see or hear what happened next, but he heard Mrs Jensen say something else, and the door close.

Then he was attacked by his siblings. He grunted at the sudden impact, and glared at a brilliantly smiling Mercedes.

* * *

><p>After he had been 'woken' (read: poked, prodded, and jumped on) properly, he called a halt to all goings-on (what appeared to be the beginnings of a pillow fight between his siblings), and tried to calm them down.<p>

It didn't work.

It turned out that, on top of being an amazing sandwich maker, Mercedes was brilliant with kids. She whistled loudly, and all movement stopped. "All right guys, sit. Sam wants to say something." They sat, curling their pillows to their chests and looking at Sam expectantly.

"Okay, wow." Sam murmured. " Well, guys, first off, we need to get you guys tidied up, because, seriously, what were you doing before you got here?" They stared at each other, grinning sheepishly, and shrugged simultaneously. "Okay, check that, I don't want to know, just go get cleaned up, and then we'll talk."

They raced to the bathroom, and Sam snaked an arm around Mercedes shoulder, squeezed her to his side. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged casually.

"You're amazing." He told her.

She rolled her eyes at him and slipped out from under his arm, going to check on the kids.

When they came back, spick and span Mercedes declared that they would be watching a movie- of her choosing (pre-emptive strike against an argument, Sam marvelled).

They settled down on the bed, Stacie curling up in the 'V' of Mercedes' legs, the older girl automatically reaching for Stacie's hair. Sam said "I suppose I'll put the movie on, then."

"Less of your sass white boy. Toy Story3 is on, and I wants my Toy Story." Mercedes scolded playfully, winking at him when he frowned.

He found the channel- the movie was about ten minutes in- and flopped down at the foot of Stacie and Stevie's bed.

Stevie got really into it, and was soon shouting at the screen.

About half way through there was a shift in the mattress, and suddenly Mercedes was right behind him, resting her elbows on his side, her face cupped in her palms, staring at the screen intently.

"Do you mind?" She murmured quietly, and Sam shook his head 'no'. "Good, 'cause I wasn't gonna move." She stated, and Sam laughed, setting his head back into the cork of his arms and watched Woody attempt to escape from his new home.

It was when the toys were sliding into the incinerator Sam found himself shouting too. "Watch out! No, not like..." He jumped up from his lying position, and Mercedes jerked away from him, grinning. And then they were all holding hands (and paws and hooves) and giving up, and Sam couldn't believe it. "No! You can't, give up!" He found himself sighing, relieved, as they scrambled out.

He sat, criss-cross apple sauce, for the remainder of the movie, until Andy was unloading the Toys from their box, and Stacie began sniffling. Mercedes leaned over him, and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I have to go soon, my parents want me home for Sunday dinner." She explained. Sam nodded.

"Okay, well, stay and watch the rest of this-"

"Sam, there's like five minutes left." She said, laughingly.

"Yeah, but that's five more minutes with you here." He said, wiggling his eyebrows, and internally slapping himself for it.

"Could you get any more corny, white boy?" She said, with a soft smile on her face.

Sam stuttered out something in Na'vi, and she laughed.

"Well, I am that amazing, Sam." She replied.

"You understood that?" He asked, wide eyed.

"I'm as fluent in Na'vi as Kurt is in French." Mercedes told him, as if it should be obvious.

"I knew I liked you for a reason." Sam mumbled.

"I'm not sure if I should be offended, Sammie." She huffed, jokingly.

Sam risked a glance at the TV and saw the credits rolling. He looked back at Mercedes sadly. "You have to go."

"Yeah, but I'll see you in English tomorrow, m'kay." She reassured him, and he felt just a little pathetic for wishing she could stay longer. He waited for her at the door, watching as she hugged Stevie and Stacie goodbye, promising to come back as soon as Sam would let her.

Mercedes patted Stacie's newly braided hair (which looked really professional0 like that time a couple of years ago when she'd gotten it done on holiday), and said goodbye again.

Sam gave her a hug, too, and he loved the feel of all her curves pressed up against him, just for those couple of seconds, and then he was waving her off, and leaning against the open door, sighing quietly, with a goofy grin on his face.

* * *

><p>Sam shuffled into Glee on Monday afternoon, looking for a chance to relax before heading home for the day. He slipped into an open chair in the back row- and Kurt slipped into the chair beside him a few seconds later.. He was hoping to slip into a peaceful stupor for today's class, as he was far too tired to even think about a weekly assignment.<p>

He slumped in his chair, his ankles crossed, and his head resting on a pillow created by his arms, attempting to drown out the droning of Santana, Brittany and Lauren; Prom was the topic of the moment, and he was trying his hardest not to think about, because he, unlike the rest of the club, wasn't going.

He had one eye cracked open when Mercedes walked in. She shot the twittering trio a questioning look.

"What are you guys talking about?" She asked, taking the only available chair- right in front of Sam. Her hair was shining in the overly bright fluorescents, he noted idly.

"Prom dresses." Lauren responded, rolling her eyes, and sounding just a little exasperated, seemingly put out by the very idea. _If she's so annoyed with the idea,_ Sam wondered, _why is she bothering_? He would never pretend to understand girls. Just, _ever_.

"Thank God I don't have to worry about that." Mercedes said, not sounding relieved at all. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest (which may or may not have accentuated it. Not that Sam was looking). "I'm not going."

Kurt gets the words out before Sam can. "Why not?"

"Because nobody's asked me." Mercedes said, as though it should be obvious. Which it wasn't, but the conversation ended there.

Sam was puzzling over the idiocy of McKinley high males, when Mr Schue walked in.

"Alright, guys." Mr Schue announced. "Prom."

Sam groaned, letting his hands drop from his hair.

"Please tell my we're not doing songs about prom." He begged.

"No, we _are_ the prom." Mr Schue told them, looking a little sorry about it. "Figgins has asked us to perform."

Rachel perked up immediately, shooting forward in her seat and grinning madly, "Let's do 'Run Joey, Run'." Everyone gave her a 'look'- even Sam, because even though he hadn't been at the school at the time of that particular performance, he'd heard great stories about it. This was all without mentioning the face that the song was (and is) _horrible_.

"Now, I know this isn't ideal, with Nationals coming up, but we really don't have a choice...and we could really use the money." Mr Schue placates them. He grabbed a stool and pulled it up to the front of the choir room, facing his students with a bright smile.

"But," He continues, more seriously, "I know that prom is a special rite of passage, and I wanna make sure that all of you guys get a chance to enjoy the dance too. So we're going to stagger the performances so that each and every one of you has a lot of time to dance with your dates." Mr Schue grins widely, as though he's doing them all a big favour, and all Sam can see is the look of utter heartbreak on Mercedes' face, the way her shoulders slump delicately as she sighs quietly. He bites his lip, analysing her profile and wishing that he could take her- he'd ask her in a heartbeat if he could afford to.

She stands suddenly.

"Excuse me." She muttered, and makes a quick escape.

"Is she okay?" Mr Schue asked, staring after her worriedly.

"Mercedes doesn't have a date for prom." Stated Quinn, bluntly, unrepentant.

"So? I don't have a date." Brittany said, shrugging her shoulders a little. "I'm just going to dance. Then all your dates are going to ignore you and come dance with me; so your dates are really my dates." And the slightly ditzy blonde looked so happy at that prospect that Sam almost forgets that Mercedes just left Glee club, obviously upset. Almost.

He wants to go after her, but he knows that his presence won't do much to comfort her.

"I'm going to go talk to Mercedes." Kurt said, looking anxious, and worried, and then put out when Rachel gave him a condescending look, and said:

"No, let me." The small diva left, a small smile on her face, Kurt glaring after her.

* * *

><p>Sam is invited over to the Hudmel residence that afternoon, for some mindless killing on Finn's Xbox- so of course he agrees.<p>

Puck's focused completely on the game, but Finn's relaxed, flopped comfortably on the sofa, feet resting on the coffee table.

"Guys," He whined, not for the first time that night, as his phone buzzed from its' position at Finn's feet. "If that's Quinn texting me about some slight adjustment to her prom dress, or some such crap, shoot me now."

Sam really can't help but be amused at his friend's situation, and a short bark of laughter escaped his 'trouty mouth', and both Puck and Finn scowl at him.

"It's not funny, dude." Puck said, in all seriousness. "Those girls take their prom crap seriously. It's scary." Sam just chuckled some more.

"You're kind of lucky, man," Finn said, blowing someone to bits, in brilliant flames and sparks. "That you don't have to take anyone." He explained, when Sam didn't reply. "It's way too stressful for just a dance."

"Don't let Quinn hear you say that." Puck warned, shaking his controller manically when he missed a shot.

"Nah, she won't let me get a word in edgeways nowadays." Finn said. "She's even more insane than normal- she crazy determined to win prom Queen. I honestly just want it to be over."

"Preach." Puck said, raising a hand in a gesture so _Artie_ that Sam has to wonder if the Jewish boy is spending a little too much time with the aforementioned bespectacled boy.

They lapse into silence soon after that, the only sounds are that of the explosions and the click of buttons on their controllers.

Sam's just about given up on beating Finn when Puck blasts past both of them, taking the game by storm and blasting Finn's high score to pieces, looking a little shocked at himself, and leaving Finn a huffy mess. "You cheated." Finn accused Puck, a finger pointed at the shorter boy.

Puck, in true two year old fashion, pouts and mumbled a petty "Did _not_."

"You so did." Finn said, getting a little too upset over a videogame- but then again, he was practically a master at them, so it's got to suck when you get beaten at your own game.

Any further argument on the matter is stopped by the slam of the front door. Both fighting boys looked at the entrance to the sitting room. Breathing quietly, they wait, hoping it's not Burt or Carole, because the house is kind of a mess- and then hoping, more than it's not the Hudmel parents, that it isn't Kurt because he'll go all psycho on their asses because he's a little touchy about tidiness.

They hear a quiet sigh, and then light humming, in a voice that's unmistakable, and all three of them share a guilty look. The countertenor flounces into the sitting room, practically dancing through the rubbish littering the floor, a bright smile on his lips.

He stops when there's a crunching sound beneath his boot clad feet. He raises a sculpted eyebrow at them, and they all grin sheepishly.

"We're really sorry Kurt," Finn said, quickly, hoping to diffuse any anger early on. "We'll clean up after ourselves, we promise. Right guys?" He asked them- though it wasn't much of a question, because he elbowed Puck, who elbowed Sam, and all three of them were nodding dumbly.

Kurt just laughed. "I'll be mad at you later." He promised, a smile still lighting his face. "But I'm too happy to be mad right now." And he proceeded to flop gracefully (how did anyone manage that? Sam wondered)onto a nearby armchair.

Finn looks curiously at his little brother. "What's with the mood, little bro?" He asked, relaxing back into the sofa now that he was out of trouble.

Kurt just keeps on grinning, as though he honestly can't help it. "Blaine and I are going to prom." He announces to the room at large, a giggle escaping his lips.

Sam's not sure how to take this, because so much could go wrong with that plan that he couldn't even begin to name them all. Finn and Puck look worried too, but it's obvious that bursting the countertenor's bubble is the farthest thing from all of their minds.

"That's awesome." Puck congratulates. "You let me know if anything goes haywire let me know, 'cause you're my boy, you know, Hummel?"

Kurt nods gratefully, but Sam can tell he's not really taking the suggestion on board.

No one really knows what to say after that- and Kurt's kind of on another planet right now so anything would just go over his head, so the two guests start tidying up, lifting chip packets from the floor; Sam grabs the bowl that had been filled with the contents of said packets, and Puck grabs the empty soda cans.

Somewhere between leaving the sitting room to throw out the trash, and returning to it the older Hudmel had migrated up to his bedroom, and Finn grinned at them in thanks, offering up their controllers again. "One more round before you losers head home?" He asked.

Puck grabs his with a "Gimmie that thing." And Sam grinned, taking his too.

"You're going down."

* * *

><p>When Sam is accosted by Rachel the next day during his free period he's kind of (read: a lot) afraid, because this could be about anything, and he's kind of freaked out by her kind of crazy, and who knows what she's going to coerce him into.<p>

"Is this a surprise party or something? Because my birthday was last week." He said, stupidly.

"It-it was? " Rachel looked momentarily floored, which Sam felt was an accomplishment in itself. "Um, no Mercedes and I, we have a proposition for you."

Then he sees Mercedes, who's glaring at the floor like it's her worst enemy. She redirects the glare at Rachel when she approaches the taller diva, Sam at her side, confused as hell. Mercedes doesn't looked reassured by Rachel's smile, and if anything she's more dubious, chocolate brown eyes flecked with a little nervousness.

Those eyes flicker over to Sam, and she takes a deep breath."We were wondering if you'd like to go to prom with us."A statement.

Sam's heart could have beat right out of his chest then, because Mercedes just asked him to prom, and she looked all shy and cute and he really wanted to just hug her and tell her yes and maybe do a little victory dance- damn the lack of money, or proper attire...Wait- _we_? Oh...

His eyes meet Rachel's and he knows that this was her idea. It kind of sucks."Kind of like a three way date, but not the dirty kind." She's quick to inform him.

And with that Sam deflates, and groans, because he's already rejected her once, and he's not looking forward to doing it again- not to mention that the thought of saying no to Mercedes made him want to throw up because he really _liked_ her and her kind of crazy-diva-ness. He noted that Mercedes looked kind of uncomfortable with this notion, and wonders why she agreed to it.

(And he's kind of glad she did because she looks down right adorable when she's biting her lip anxiously; and then kind of not because he has to say no).

Sam half smiled at them, chuckling a bit uncomfortably, and not a bit disbelieving.

"That sounds great," And it kind of does, because Finn and Puck's stress is something he can't handle right now, and going as friends seems like a fun idea... "But I can't afford to take one girl to prom, I don't know how I'm gonna take two."

Rachel smiles slyly, holding up a thin wad of money, looking too proud of herself.

"What's this?" He asked, not sure if he should be offended or not.

"Our prom budget." Rachel explained and then looked at Mercedes, as though prompting her to talk.

"You're gonna have to borrow a suit from your dad, and we're gonna buy five dollar dresses down at the goodwill, and make our own corsages out of flowers from my mum's garden." She's rushing the words out, and is starting to look a little hopeful, and maybe this wasn't just a way for Rachel to rope him into going to prom with her, and maybe Mercedes actually might want to go with him (and maybe there are too many maybes in that sentence, but Sam doesn't really care because there's this small bubble of hope in his chest that he can't seem to squash now that he's let it appear).

"And we can walk to prom and then use what's left to get the $8.99 pasta special at Breadstix." Rachel continued, coaxing, sharing a small smile with Mercedes, maybe able to tell that he's giving in.

"But, you know, the twenty dollars, it-it's not charity, it's a loan." Rachel is quick to assure him.

Mercedes is still looking at Rachel like she's insane (which she is), but she turns those chocolate eyes on him, with cute little pouty smile on her lips and Sam really can't resist it.

"So, you'll go with us?" Mercedes asked, grinning a little (and Sam may have changed the 'us' to 'me' in his head, but that's not relevant).

He looks between them both, and realises that it's not exactly the prom date he was hoping for (when he allowed himself to hope that he could actually go) but he's still going with Mercedes...sort of, (And it doesn't really matter that she doesn't know that he's crushing on her hard, or that he's only going to say yes because of her).

"It would be an honour ." He told them, smiling brightly, watching as Rachel jumped and squealed a little, her face lighting up, and Mercedes let out a quiet sigh.

"Yes!" Rachel exclaimed. Both girls are laughing and Mercedes looks relieved that this didn't turn awkward or weird, and she's smiling infectiously.

And then both girls are hugging him. Rachel's hand lingers at the base of his neck, and Mercedes' just below his shoulder blade, warm and comforting, and Sam wraps an arm around Mercedes' shoulders hugging her tightly to his side.

* * *

><p>Sam's parents are at the motel that evening when he gets home. He's been thinking about how to bring up prom all day- or, well, since he had been ambushed by Rachel and Mercedes.<p>

He decided that he'd just have to come out with it.

He settled onto his bed, with his plate of Mac'n'cheese, and watched some Tom and Jerry with Stacie and Stevie, as his parents had taken the table.

Jerry raced into his hole, and Tom smashed head first into the wall, and somehow it just never got old, and Sam heard a hearty chuckle escape his lips.

He basically shovelled his food down, and set his plate to the side, making a mental note to pick it up and wash it later. He saw that his siblings were distracted well enough by the TV that he could get some of his homework done before 'the confrontation' as he'd dubbed it.

He lay on his stomach, and grabbed his notebook from his backpack, a pen clipped onto the spiral binder of it. He clicked the pen, and opened it to the page with his English assignment written on it, eyes scanning his creative writing prompt curiously.

He wasn't much of a writer- he was dyslexic after all- but he was going to try his damndest to get it finished.

He got about two A4 sheets (not back to back) written by the time his parents had left their spots in the kitchenette to settle down for the night.

"Sammie?" His mother said, swiping her bangs out of her face, and leaning over him. "You nearly ready to pack up for the night? Your dad and I have an early morning tomorrow. He's gotten a job interview."

Sam nodded, finished off his sentence quickly, and looked up at his mother's bright blue eyes. "Yeah, mum. Can I, uh, talk to you and Dad for a minute?"

She smiled gently, "Sure, he's just getting Stevie ready for bed." Sam wanted to comment that Stevie was eight now, and could dress himself, but she was stressed out enough as it was, without him patronising her.

Stacie, already in her pyjamas, crawled over to him, and curled up at his side, throwing an arm over his stomach. "Sammie?" She asked, sleepily. "Is 'Cedes coming over again?"

Sam mother raised an eyebrow at that. "Who's ''Cedes'?" She asked, a little amused.

"A friend of mine." Sam told her. "And I kind of want to talk to you about her- well, sort of." He admitted. His mother's brow creased, and she frowned.

"Do we need to have the-"

"No, just no, mum." He cut in, not wanting to go there again. Once was plenty for any one person.

Sam glanced down at Stacie, whose eyes were fluttering shut, and breathing was evening out. "Yeah, she might come over again, Stace." He told her. She nodded against his side, and made a soft humming noise.

She was out for the count by the time Stevie came stumbling out of the bathroom. He picked her up carefully and cradled her to his chest with one hand, using the other to pull her blankets back. He set her down and tucked her in tightly.

"You, into bed, little man." Sam commanded, and Stevie jumped up beside his little sister, quickly getting under his own Ben 10 blankets.

His dad shuffled into the room, and sat beside his wife, who placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sam wants to talk to us." She informed him quietly, and he nodded.

"What is it Sam?" His father asked, leaning back onto the headboard.

Sam twiddles his thumbs uselessly. "Um, well, this Saturday...It's prom." He said. "And, there's a couple of us going, just as friends, and I was wondering if I'd be able to go?" He looks up, and his parents are looking at each other concernedly.

"Sam, you know we don't have the money to rent you a tux, or for transport. We know prom is really important to you, but, we just can't afford it sweetheart." His mother said, after a long pause. Her blue eyes are filled with tears, and her voice is trembling.

"I know, and...I could use one of Dad's suits, and we're walking, so transport doesn't really matter...I'll just need to get off work early, that's all." He's pleading now, and they look so torn.

"Okay, Sammie." His mum conceded. "if you think you can go in one of your dad's suits, then we want you to have fun."

She smiles a wobbly smile at him, and he loves his mum so much, just then, because he knows how damn hard this is on them. His Dad nods at him, his brown eyes crinkling a little when he smiles at his son.

"Thanks, guys. It means a lot."

They just shrug him off. "Now," His mum said, a small, knowing smile on her face. "Tell us about this 'Cedes, person."

"Mercedes, is my friend, mother." He replied, swiftly, hoping to stop her curiosity before it got away with her.

"Oh, it's a girl. Michael." She half squealed.

"A friend, mum." Sam groaned, praying that the blush he thinks is crawling up his face is just his imagination.

"A friend wouldn't make you blush like that, Sammie." His mum croons, and his dad chuckles (for which his moths shushes him, warning him that he'll wake the kids).

Sam groaned again, and throws himself into his pillows, hoping to disappear. "I hate both of you." He mumbled. They just laugh some more.

* * *

><p>The next day, Kurt storms into the lunch time Glee rehearsal, muttering darkly to himself, his cheeks flushed darkly, his eyes a dark green. Everyone is staring at him as he sits down, his chair sliding to the side with the impact of his anger. His hand reaches out to his left, grabbing Mercedes' without a second thought.<p>

Mercedes doesn't question him, but lets him vent quietly to himself The muttering eventually increases in volume, and Kurt's angry voice is Rachel Berry scary.

"Who the hell does he think is he, floating into our auditorium, with his stupid voice and his stupid curls and his stupid Alexander McQueen scarf." Kurt practically screeched, running out of steam and slumping in his chair.

They all stare at him warily for a couple of minutes and Mercedes is brave enough to wrap her arm around his shoulder and pull him into a hug. "Stupid scarf." He mutters once more.

"Kurt, boo, who's got you so angry?" Mercedes asked.

"Jesse Saint freaking James, that's who. Him and his freaking scarf." Kurt mutters, glaring at the linoleum floors.

It's chaos all of a sudden and Sam's a little freaked out, and he wonders who the hell Jesse St James is (and why the name is so familiar), and how on earth one person could cause such a reaction without even being there.

It's Santana who shuts everyone up. "Guys! SHUT IT!" She yelled. "Now, Kurt, where is he, and how do I get my hands around his scrawny neck?"

Kurt laughed drily, and lifts his head from Mercedes' shoulder. "Rachel was in the auditorium, practicing 'Rolling in the deep' for her prom song, when all of a sudden he walks in, looking all perfectly clean cut and he's turning it into a freaking duet. And Rachel let him, And he's wearing my scarf. Or rather the scarf that would have been mine if I had St James' kind of money."

Sam laughs, even though he knows it isn't really a laughing matter if they're all so mad about it, because of course Kurt's more mad about the scarf than anything else.

Finn shoots him a glare, and he shuts up. "So, now they're sitting comfortably in the audiences' seats, and talking- about who knows what! I can't believe her, especially after last time." _Last time_? Sam wondered.

Then Finn's ranting and Quinn looks horrified, and Mercedes is gripping Kurt's hand really tightly, and they both have equal expression of rage on their faces that just scream 'immacutabitch'.

Finn storms out before anyone can stop him- his eyes are tightened in anger, and his fists are clenched, and he has a twisted smile on his face, that's carefully calm.

"So, um," Sam said, awkwardly, feeling out of the loop. "Who's Jesse St. James?"

When they tell him, he kind of wishes he hadn't bothered asking.

* * *

><p>He's cornered near the end of the day by a deranged looking Artie Abrams.<p>

"Sam, will you help me serenade Brittany?" His eyes are big and desperate behind hi think rimmed glasses, and Sam feels like he has no option- and no way out (and not only because he's literally cornered by Artie's wheelchair).

"Sure. Um, how?" Sam asked.

"I'm gonna sing her a song, but I need you to back me up on the guitar. Well, you Finn and Puck." He amended.

Sam nods, rolling Artie's chair backwards, and spinning it. "Okay, hit me with your ideas." Sam said, rolling Artie to their next class.

Artie goes into detail (and Sam can tell he's spent a lot of time thinking about this), and all Sam can think is:

_Isn't that song about a baby_?

* * *

><p>Sam leans casually outside Ms Hagberg's room, letting Artie take the lead.<p>

He doesn't catch any of Artie's sure to be heartfelt speech, but his voice floats out to the hallway easily, sounding raw without any music.

He hears the scrape of a chair and knows that he'll have to go inside soon. He cocks his head to the side, listening out for the lyrics that would signify the beginning of his cue, and he hears an idle comment that he's certain was Mercedes.

"I thought this song was about a baby." She said, and it's all Sam can do not to burst out laughing- he almost misses his cue, but manages to reign in his chuckles by biting his lip as he leads the way into the classroom, strumming lightly on his guitar.

He watches Brittany flee back to her seat, looking embarrassed.

He weaved his way through the Home Economic classroom, smiling at the girls (and Kurt) who are watching with rapt attention. He glances over at Mercedes, and she's rolling her eyes skywards, her face cupped in her hands, elbows propped up on the table she shares with Kurt, looking vaguely amused.

At one point he rests his head on Ms Hagberg's shoulder, smiling gently, and genuinely wishing that maybe this could be enough for Artie to win Brittany back, because she looks pretty impressed, and is blushing lightly. He strums the last chord, and Artie is looking at Brittany with such hope in his magnified eyes.

"So?" He asked her.

She smiled down at him, and breaks it to him gently, generating odd looks from a few of the other students when she mentions dancing with other peoples' dates.

He feels really bad for Artie now, when he went to all of that effort, and he thinks that Puck's an insensitive prick for bringing up spiking the punch right then, but when Artie replies drolly, with something stupid about having nothing left to live for, Sam thinks that maybe Artie's a bit stupid himself, and just a tad melodramatic.

* * *

><p>That afternoon things are a little tense between Artie and Brittany, but the former is studiously ignoring the latter, and everyone is ignoring him, because he's just being petty now.<p>

Mercedes has paired up with Santana- who she gets on surprisingly well with, and they're discussing song options, and not fighting about it- unlike everyone else in the room, all of which seem to be having a disagreement of some description.

Except Rachel, who had, of course, opted to do a solo.

"But, dude," Puck whines. "It's an awesome song- everyone will love it."

Sam rolls his eyes, and prays for strength. "I've seen the error of my Bieber ways," Sam tells him, "And I'm here to tell you that Rebecca Black is even worse than him. Worse. I didn't know that was possible."

Artie chimes in with something about how much the girls loved Bieber, and Sam realises he's lost this fight.

"Whatever. We'll sing 'Friday'. I don't have to like it, though."

Puck and Artie high five. Sam scampers away, looking for sane-er company.

He placed a hand on Mercedes upper arm, squeezing ti gently to get her attention and trying to not notice the startling difference in their skin tones, and how good they looked beside one another. She turns and raises an eyebrow at him, and Santana smirks at the sight of the placement of his hand, which he swiftly removes.

"You girls decided on a song yet? Those idiots roped me into signing 'Friday'." He said, rolling his eyes, but his voice was laced with fondness.

"Suck to be you." Santana said, snorting delicately.

"We're stuck between 'Dancing Queen', and doing a reprise of 'River deep, mountain high'." Mercedes admitted, her pearly white teeth digging into her plump lower lip.

"Well, I don't know," Sam said, knowing how amazing their cover of the latter was, but wanting to hear them sing the Abba classic.

"Why don't you try singing both, and then going over which one you think is more prom appropriate." Sam suggested.

Mercedes was nodding along thoughtfully, and Santana only looked slightly dubious, which was as good as agreeing with him- and it was probably the best he was going to get from her.

"Will you help us?" Santana asked, when he was about to leave them to it, "I mean we might need an unbiased opinion." She amended at Mercedes' 'are you insane?' look.

Sam glanced between the two of them, Santana was attempting to tell Mercedes something with her eyes, and Mercedes looked vaguely embarrassed.

"Yeah." He said, slowly, unsure about what was going on here. But, he supposed, any excuse to spend more time around Mercedes was an excuse.

The eventually, with much prodding from Sam, and one hell of an argument (that barely escaped a full on screaming match), settled on 'Dancing queen'.

* * *

><p>Sam tugs on his lapels self consciously, and knocks on the Jones' front door with sweaty hands. There's shuffling from inside, and a squeal that's too high pitched to be Mercedes, at which he discreetly wipes his hands on the back of his trousers.<p>

The door swung open and light spills out into the street. Sam blinked stupidly at the empty doorway until it wasn't empty anymore.

The man standing there was a little taller than Sam, with broader shoulders, and a buzz cut, even though he wasn't much older than Sam himself. _You can breathe_, he told himself, _at least it's not her dad_. His frazzled mind consoled.

The thought was only minutely terrifying.

It was really idiotic of him to not think about the fact that he was, by taking Mercedes to prom, going to have to meet her parents.

"Hi," Sam croaked, and then cleared his throat. "I'm Sam, and I here to, uh, take Mercedes to prom."

The boy chuckled and stood aside to let Sam in. "She's not ready yet- I'm pretty sure mum's up there with her." He told Sam, closing the door, and leading the way into the sitting room.

Sam nodded, standing awkwardly by the fireplace, and wishing he had something substantial to say. "I'm Joey, by the way." The boy- Joey said. "I'm sure you'll get ambushed by the other sibling soon enough- but don't worry they don't bite. Much."

Sam laughed nervously. "Calm down, dude." Joey advised. "We're really happy that Mercy found someone nice to take her to her first dance. Just treat her right, yeah?" And Sam grinned, because that was the plan.

"Thanks." He said, sighing a bit, taking a seat when it was offered.

It was quiet- a comfortable silence- for a few minutes, and then the back door flew open- Sam could see it from his vantage point- and three people fell through it, all three laughing hysterically, but the third, and the eldest, was trying to keep a serious facade on, telling them to 'hush up'.

They all just laughed harder.

The older man shooed his kids into the sitting room, and told them not to be bothering Mercy, because she was getting ready for her big dance. The two quietened down, letting quiet giggles escape as they entered the sitting room.

They stopped dead when they saw Sa, big brown eyes widening, and identical grins splitting their faces. They rushed to his side. "Are you Mercy's date?" The little girl asked.

"Uh, yeah, I am. I'm Sam, and what are your names?" He asked- because Mercedes never really talked about her family in school- or maybe she did, just not with him.

"I'm Rose, and this is my big brother Jacob." She told him, jerking a thumb in her brother's direction. "Did you get her a cors-a cur-cours..."

"A corsage?" Sam supplied. She nodded eagerly.

"Well," Sam explained. "Mercedes made her own corsage, so I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure it'll be lovely." Rose's eye lit up.

"I saw it- she left it in the kitchen earlier!" The little girl was bouncing on her heels. "Joey, can you go get it, so that Sam can put it on Mercy's wrist? Please?" She pouted adorably, and he eldest brother stood, ruffling her curls on his way to the kitchen.

"Mercy's gonna look real pretty." Rose told him, seriously. "I saw her dress. Do you think Mercy's pretty?" She asked, and Sam's eyes widened.

"Um," Was it really warm, or was it just him? "Can you keep a secret?" He asked, and the both leaned forward, nodding eagerly ."Yeah, I do. Mercedes is really, really, pretty." He told them, and Rose squealed skipping to the kitchen, shouting Joey's name.

"Mercy really likes you." A soft voice told him, and Sam looked over to see Jacob staring at him with fierce eyes. "Like, more than she liked that Kurt guy, and more than she liked Anthony- who was really mean. I don't want you to be mean to her, 'cause Mercy's an awesome big sister." Sam nodded, locking that information away to puzzle over later.

"You make her smile lots." Jacob continued. "I want Mercy to smile always." The little boy, definitely no older than ten, eleven tops, was glaring at him defiantly, as though daring him to disagree.

"Me too." Sam admitted.

"You too, what, white boy?" A familiar voice floated down the stairs. Sam started, and stood, sending Jacob a small smile, and going to wait for his date (well, one of them) in the picture lined hallway. Joey smiled at his eagerness, and handed over the corsage, which was a vibrant pink, and expertly crafted.

"Thanks." Sam muttered, taking it, and fingering the soft petals anxiously.

He was flanked by most of Mercedes' family as he waited for her. She was proceeded by her mother, who was slim, and tall, with deep hazel eyes, eyes which lit up when she saw Sam. She practically floated over to him, and took one of his hands, squeezing it.

"She'll be down in a moment." The lady said, kind eyed and smiling.

Sam gulped, eyes scanning the many photographs scattered about the cream walls- a large family photo dominated them all- all six members of the family are dressed in white, against a light blue background, everyone is laughing or smiling- not posing, just acting natural. It's circled by smaller pictures set in the same place, but with different things happening in each; piggyback rides, tickling each other, there's one where they're all just wrapped up in a family hug.

There's also single portraits of them all, and Sam can't help but let his eyes linger on Mercedes- it's pretty recent, and she looks amazing.

He's certain, when he hears her flats on the staircase that the real thing is a hundred time more beautiful. His breath catches at the material that literally clings to each of her curves, and the delicate way her shawl is draped over her shoulders and around her upper arms.

He takes a wobbly step toward her, and holds out his hand for her- she takes it when she reaches the bottom step (and he idly tells himself that this is so beyond cliché that he can hardly stand it). He looks her right in those chocolate brown eyes and tells her that she looks lovely.

Heat radiates from her face, and she slaps his arm playfully. He grabs said arm, and circle her wrist with his hand. "I mean it." He said, a bit intensely, gently wrapping the pink ribbon around her wrist and tying it the way his mum taught him, straightening the flower, his hands lingering a little longer than they were supposed to.

"You look great, Sam." She said, and she's smiling now, and he can't help but grin at her goofily.

"Pictures!" Joey burst in, and Mercedes' parents (whose names he really needs to get) agree, telling them to budge together, as Mrs Jones tells her husband to grab the camera.

"No, the other shelf dear!" She called, amusedly.

Sam wraps an arm around Mercedes' waist, pulling her tightly to his side, smiling genuinely for the camera, trying valiantly to ignore the wink that Joey sends him, and the flush that's crawling up the back of his neck.

* * *

><p>Hiram Berry opens the door quickly, and ushers them in with a grin. "Jesse's already here." He informed them, and Sam shares a questioning look with Mercedes, who looks just as confused as he feels.<p>

Rachel's just had her corsage tied around her wrist as Mercedes and Sam enter, There's a tall, curly haired boy (man?), half bowed over her hand, and she's blushing like crazy.

She spots them immediately. "Mercedes!" She cried, skipping to their side, and pulling the taller girl into a hug. She inspects the darker girl with a critical eye. "You look wonderful Mercedes."

"You do too, Rach." Mercedes tells her, and they fall into a whispered conversation, giggling and sneaking glances at them.

"That's kind of frightening."Jesse whispered to Sam, and he can't help but nod, because it's true.

They're whisked into another round of pictures by the Berrys, and are soon waved off by the two men. Sam sees Leroy wrap his arms around Hiram, and murmur something about their little girl.

* * *

><p>"Mercedes, can I just say that you look fierce in your dress?" Rachel complemented, as the slightly taller girl twirled in her bright pink dress.<p>

"Totally Mercedes." Jesse said, smiling brilliantly. It was kind of sickening. The curly haired boy (man, _whatever_) glanced at Rachel slyly. "You both look smokin'."

Sam can't help but agree as Mercedes poses, and slides into the seat beside him, declaring: "You're damn straight we do." Sam averts his gaze because her assets and curves are fully accentuated, but covered modestly, and he's afraid she's noticed his ogling.

He fingers his bolo tie, and smiles at Jesse, "Seriously though Jesse, what do you think of the bolo tie?" He tugged on his lapels, and shifted away from Mercedes and her too close proximity. The change in topic was just what he needed because he had no words to describe how stunning Mercedes looked, and he was too much of a dork to not have anything he said end up sounding awkward (or, you know, in _Na'vi_).

"Pretty cool right." Sam continues, "Saw Springsteen in the cover of Tunnel of love Album wearing it." He misses the looks Rachel and Mercedes are shooting on another, instead he sends Jesse his own inquiring look.

"Dude that was like, twenty years ago." Jesses said, giggling with a hyper Rachel, and he sees Mercedes smile indulgently at him.

Jesses sobers at some thought or another, and his eyes are pitying. "I'm really sorry to hear about what happened with your family Sam." He can feel the shock rolling off Mercedes, and he's frozen, and his limbs are stiff. He can feel her eyes on him, but he ignores them.

How the hell did this guy know?

Rachel is quick to clear that up for him "Um, I hope it's okay, I sort of filled Jesse in on what was going on. " She said, looking unrepentant, and Sam honestly can't be mad, because she's Rachel Berry, and he should have seen this coming.

"Of course it's okay, Sam has nothing to be ashamed off." Sam looks away from them, and Mercedes catches his eye, her hand rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "I know how tough it is out there." Jesse said, in a manner Sam assumes is supposed to be consoling. "I couldn't even get a job as one of those singing waiters at Johnny Rockets. But I've got an idea." Sam and Mercedes lean in to hear the brilliant idea, and Rachel continues to stare at him adoringly.

"They say that the best time to start any business is during a recession. I don't know why, or even what a recession is, but it's my understanding that we're in one."

"He's so smart. I can't believe he flunked out of college." Rachel said, sounding genuinely shocked, and Sam looks over at Mercedes, incredulously- _is she for real_? His eyes ask, and her lips twitch a little, and he knows that she gets it.

"So I was thinking, what are the two things I'm great at?" Now he's just getting arrogant, and Sam wants to shove his sock in his mouth- he's evenly matched with Rachel on that front. "Show choir and destroying the competition." Rachel is grinning at him, madly. "So what if I opened up a dance studio where I could act as a consultant for show choirs looking to get that extra edge?"

Mercedes raises an incredulous eyebrow. "Do you think there are enough show choirs to keep you in business?" She asked.

"Of course there are!" Rachel exclaimed, giddy. "That-that's a brilliant idea. You could- you could be like the- the show choir whisperer." Their laughter is loud and obnoxious. "I'm sure we can get Mr Schue to hire him in a second and that's how we could beat Vocal Adrenaline."

Sam knows that if conversation continues on this vein all night he's going to get sick of it, and fast, and he's not sure if he'll be able to keep his temper in check, because he honestly doesn't like this Jesse guy- not for any reason that he can pin point exactly there's just something in his smile, his manner of speaking.

He sees Finn stand, a few tables over, and Sam wishes he could sink into his chair and get lost there, because with Finn, Quinn and Rachel in the same place it was going to get dramatic and soon. Finn holds his hand out and he sees Quinn accept it with a smile.

Sam quickly grabs the ends of his bolo tie, twiddling them in what he hopes is an absentminded way, while Mercedes pretends to be absorbed in St. Berry's conversation.

"Hey, guys, you look amazing."Quinn said, sounding a little strained. "And don't forget to vote for Hudson-Fabray tonight." She added, with a fake smile plastered across her face.

"Hey Jesse what'd you order?" Finn asked, with a tight smile. "Scrambled eggs?" His eyes are hard, and his voice has a rough and dangerous edge to it. "I mean I know you usually like them served on people's heads."

Jesse takes it all in his stride, smiling winningly at the couple.

"Quinn you look stunning. The ghost of Grace Kelly. Let me know if you get tired of your boyfriend stomping on your pretty little feet all night I'll be more than happy to cut in." The tension is so palpable you could cut it with a kind, and Rachel's staring at her lap, looking kind of lost and deflated, her shoulders slumped.

Sam's really glad when Mercedes cuts into the terse argument.

"Okay, hush you guys, you're totally ruining the vibe." Mercedes said, her tone placating (he smiles at her fierce attitude, and it really grateful that someone could take control of this situation before it got out of hand). Mercedes turns to Quinn. "Quinn, you look hot. Finn you look handsome," (and no he's not at all jealous of the casual way she said that, thank you very much). "Love you guys, but get lost. We'll see you there."

And they scarper.

"All right, this is gonna be off the hook." Mercedes said, and her enthusiasm is catching- Sam easily gets caught up in her infectious-ness.

"Who's ready for some prom?" Sam said, banging his fists on the table, a giddy smile taking over his features.

"I'm ready for prom." Rachel cheers.

"Go prom." Jesse said, and it's maybe a little sarcastic, but Sam can't bring himself to care.

"Cheers guys." Rachel said, preppy and smiling again.

* * *

><p>They kick of prom with 'Friday', and Sam's acutely aware that it's the stupidest song in the history of ever, and he had been certain for so long that it just wasn't possible to get worse the Bieber, but this song just topped everything.<p>

It doesn't really matter though, because everybody- literally- is grooving along, and rocking out- Rachel and Jesse are jumping around and smiling brightly at each other, and Brittany is (true to her word) dancing with other people's dates. Santana and Karofsky look like they're actually having fun, and Asian Fusion are attached at the lips.

Mercedes is sitting with a bunch of other girls, jamming in her seat, looking especially beautiful under the stupid streamers and the glow of flashing lights, and the grin on her face makes him smile involuntarily, and he slides across the stage, thinking _who cares_?, and just enjoying the buzz he gets from performing.

* * *

><p>Sam wades through the sea of people, shooting Rachel a grin as she climbs on stage, looking instantaneously at home, He grabs a cup of punch- while it's still alcohol free, and leans up against the drinks table (from which he has a nice view of Mercedes and her giggling friends).<p>

As the opening notes of Rachel's solo start up the girls are pulled to their feet and taken out to the dance floor, where it seems everyone has migrated to. Everyone but his date, and Kurt and Blaine, who are standing at the edge of the crowd, hands discreetly intertwined and talking quietly to each other.

He watches them linger. Kurt looks happy- which means that nothing bad has happened (_yet_, adds the pessimistic portion of his brain), and Blaine's gaze is oddly longing, and it keeps switching from his boyfriend to the swaying couples.

They're holding back, he realises. They aren't dancing together so as not to start anything. They're playing safe- and that's kind of heartbreaking- not just for them, but because (and Sam feels bad for thinking so selfishly) nothing is really stopping him from taking Mercedes' hand and asking her to dance- because they can, and no one will say _boo_.

It's like a light's been lit, and he strides over to Mercedes, who's picking gently at her corsage.

"Mercedes?"

"Yes?" She inquires, looking up from her wrist.

He swallows. "I just wanted to tell you that you look beautiful." He said, meeting her gaze. "Would you like to dance?" He ducks head a little, holds out a hand, and smiles. He can't breathe in the few seconds it takes her to answer, as she stares contemplatively at his hand.

But she smiles and averts her gaze coyly- and it does funny things to his heart." I'd love to." She replied, her hand wavering just before his for a second before slipping into his open palm.

He took her to the edge of the swaying couples, and puzzled momentarily over where to place his other hand, but hers' slid comfortably onto his shoulder, stepping closer to him, so all he could see smell, hear, feel was her.

She was warm, and her breathing was even and she smelled like coconut and some perfume he'd never smelt before- it was all encompassing. He set his spare hand on her waist and pulled her close.

They swayed to the beat for a few moments, just staring at each other. Sam leaned down, tentatively, allowing Mercedes plenty of time to pull away if he was making her uncomfortable, and pressed their foreheads together, He inhaled sharply when her light breath filtered over his face, and he let his eyes slip closed for a brief moment.

When he opened them he could see her shy smile. "Thanks for taking me- well us- tonight, Sam." Mercedes whispered, and everything else melted away.

"Thank you for asking me to go with you." He responded.

She smiled, and pulled away, instead turning her head so she could lay it in the crook of his neck. He rested his chin on top of her up-do, and inhaled deeply, relaxing into the dance. Her hand slid out of his and onto his other shoulder, and his circled her waist, pulling her flush against him.

When Rachel's voice faded Sam wondered if there was a way he could just, stay like this, even though it would look weird when there wasn't any slow music playing.

It ended up not mattering, because the next song was from a CD, and was still relatively slow.

Eventually more upbeat songs began paling and Sam and to disengage himself from the embrace he was in, and shift into some less generic dance moves.

Pretty soon Blaine was jamming on the stage with Brittany and Tina, and his dance moves were slightly whacky, and it was funny to witness. He couldn't help but dance along weirdly, he pulled a running man, and a moonwalk (the latter of which was unsuccessful, because he tripped over his own feet), and Mercedes just kept on laughing and busted into a very fancy robot, which he soon imitated.

* * *

><p>Everyone crowded around the stage when Figgins took the microphone. Sam is standing between Rachel and Mercedes, and he watches as the candidates filter onto the stage.<p>

Figgins' face break into a large grin when he opens the 'King' envelope, and he announces Karofsky as the King. Sam can hardly believe it- but then Santana can be pretty convincing. He watches said girl lean over to sneer something triumphantly at Quinn, whose winning smile has dropped from her face.

As soon as Figgins opens the 'Queen' ballot, he knows something is wrong, and when he mentions write in votes he thinks he could be sick.

And then he said Kurt's name and Sam's heart pulses wildly, his eyes immediately searching for and finding the boy in question, where he is frozen, stiff and pale, standing beside his boyfriend, who is staring at Kurt brokenly.

Everyone is silent, it's like all the air has been sucked out of the gym, and Sam can feel rage twisting in the pit of his stomach.

There is a stray cheer, and a sarcastic, mocking clap, and suddenly Sam's never been so angry because Kurt's running away, and he can hear his sobs, and Blaine is tearing after him, and Sam can't believe it (but the sad thing is that he _can_).

The only thing that's really stopping him from chewing somebody out (most likely the principal himself- because, seriously, what kind of person does that? He was encouraging the bullying- the ass should have lied through his damn teeth). Is Mercedes standing beside him shaking violently. He hears her long exhale- it's extremely loud in the quietness of the gym.

He doesn't stop staring at Figgins- who's just standing there dumbly, watching the crowd like he's expecting something.

His hand finds Mercedes', and he locks their fingers together, wishing he could pull her into his arms, to comfort her, because he could feel the ache she had to follow her best friend, and he knew how much Kurt's pain hurt her. How could someone do that to a person who was so innocent and forgiving? Sam didn't think he'd ever understand it.

Mercedes calmed down after a few minutes, and Rachel's gone- she followed Quinn somewhere, and both Santana and Brittany are missing too. Sam can feel his anger cool into an icy hatred (and he's never really hated anyone before this, but this is insanity).

A back door _snick_ed open, and Kurt waltzed back in, head held high to accept his crown and sceptre. He took the latter shakily, reluctantly. Sam feels his heart fill with pride for the fragile but so brave boy on the stage. Mercedes' hand is shaking in his, and he puts a little pressure on it, to remind her that he's there, with her.

"Eat your heart out Kate Middleton." Then everyone- well nearly everyone- is cheering and clapping, and he's let go of Mercedes' hand and whoops, because Kurt needs all the support he can get. It doesn't matter that Mercedes is slipping away, because he knows that she has one hell of a performance to put on with Santana.

Figgins announces that there's going to be a King and Queen dance, and Sam wants to punch the numbskull.

Sam watches the two boys walk out onto the floor, whispering to each other, and for a brief second Sam sees some sort of solidarity between them. They face each other, and Karofsky looks afraid, and unsure.

He runs, and Sam isn't shocked, but Kurt is staring after him, frozen, and seeming so lost. He can hear a small commotion to his right, and the crowd separate as the opening strains of 'Dancing Queen' filter through the room, and Blaine is there, looking shocked at himself, but determined and sure of himself.

"Excuse me?" Kurt turns, blue eyes wide and confused, until he sees Blaine.

"May I have this dance?" Blaine's holding out his hand, and Kurt's eyes light up with relief and something that looks like a physical representation of love, and he smiles a watery smile.

Mercedes' voice floats around him, rich and breathtaking.

"Yes, Yes you may." Blaine pulls Kurt into his arms, and they seem to sag into each other, and Kurt's kind of distracted with everyone's reactions- so Sam smiles at him encouragingly, and Kurt seems to deflate and relax, spinning around with his boyfriend.

Rachel appears out of nowhere, and spins out onto the floor, her pink dress twirling around her knees, as she laughs loudly- Tina and a few others from Glee follow suit.

* * *

><p>Soon people are filtering out, and some people are still dancing- he's sort of but not really dancing with Rachel, and Quinn is dancing by herself, and she seems to be happier now than she ever was when she was <em>with<em> someone.

Sam sneaks a look at the front of the stage, where Mercedes and Santana are, arm in arm. She looks happy and at home performing- and she really does sound amazing with Santana.

There's a few more songs left to play when Mercedes hands over her microphone. Sam is waiting for her, and takes her into his arms.

"Whoa, white boy." She said as he twirled her under his arm. "What's all this about?" She asked, laying a hand on his chest as he swayed them from side to side.

"Well, it's prom, Mercedes, and I thought, why not enjoy it while we're here?" He said, laughing a little at the her 'yeah, _right'_ look, "That and there's a mile long line for our prom pictures. Kidding." He added when she looked affronted.

"Okay, crazy-boy." She giggled, attempting to appear irritated.

He twirled her again, and she let them just have fun for a little while.

* * *

><p>When the line for prom pictures dwindles down, and the dance floor is practically empty Sam gets in line with Mercedes and Rachel.<p>

They pose in front of the painted star. Sam in between the two girls, an arm wrapped around each, as they tilt their heads up as though they're about to kiss his cheeks. After the camera clicks their lips connect with his cheeks and he feels a blush rise over his face. The two girls pull away, pretend to flick their hair over their shoulders and high five.

Sam feels like he shouldn't be this flustered.

(And he didn't lift his hand to his right cheek when they weren't looking- he didn't let it linger there).

It's really only the New Directions and a few stragglers left for the very last dance.

Sam decided to sit it out, and instead his dates dance together, spinning and laughing and being generally happy.

Santana and Brittany are dancing slowly together, arms looped around each others' waists, even though this song's more upbeat, and Artie Tina and Mike are all joking with each other, Mike sitting on Artie's lap, and attempting to coax his girlfriend to sit on his lap. She jumps out of his reach and smirks.

Quinn and Lauren are sipping the lemonade-spiked punch, each mourning over their loss as prom queen, and Puck is grumbling to himself (probably at the lack of alcohol).

Kurt and Blaine are wrapped up in each other, the shorter boys' head resting on Kurt's chest, and his arms looped around Kurt's neck.

A couple of the stragglers are curled up on a set of seats pushed together willy-nilly, another girl is arguing with her (boyfriend? Date? It doesn't really matter), and another couple are dancing together as well.

Sam thought that it was a pretty amazing night, you know, over all.

* * *

><p>Jesse had waited outside for Rachel- and his presence had made the short girl smile brilliantly, and skip to his side- bidding her 'dates' goodbye.<p>

The walk to the Jones' house was short- it was also in the opposite direction of Sam's motel. He had grabbed Mercedes' hand when they left the school property and he didn't want to let go.

Mercedes had her own jacket on- you know, the one she was smart enough to bring with her, and the walk had been silent thus far.

Sam uncapped their hands momentarily, easily spilling Mercedes' fingers and entwining them. She smiled up at him, and shuffled a little closer to him as they walked.

They reached Mercedes' house too soon for Sam's liking, so Sam walked her right to her door.

They turned to face each other, and Mercedes scuffed her foot against the gravel, nervously, eyes focused intently on the ground. Sam kept quiet- if Mercedes wanted to say something, she would, and he'd wait.

She looked up, a fierce determination in her chocolate eyes. She used her free hand to cup his cheek. "Thank you for a wonderful night, Sam." She whispered, and leaned up to kiss his other cheek. This time she lingered a little- long enough to feel his blush under her smirking lips.

Sam just stared at her for a short while, and thinks that maybe prom should be every night, if it ends like this.

"It was an honour." He told her, bending at the waist slightly and lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth skin there, loving that he can feel the slight spike in her pulse underneath his fingertips.

He untangles their fingers. "'Night, Mercedes." He said, and walked away, lingering at the bottom of her garden path until her front door slams shut.

Walking home passed by in a haze of Mercedes filled thoughts, and humming to himself, feeling a little like a thirteen year old with his first crush.

As he slid into his bed, after tugging on a pair tracksuit bottoms that Kurt had given him, he thinks that maybe work tomorrow won't be too bad.


	3. Chapter 3

You guys. I'm such a bad author. It's been a while, I know, but I've had exams (which is my only vaild excuse).

I love you all so much, and oh my gosh, so many reviews! I love your love. It's too sweet.

You guys, I'm going to the midnight showing of Harry potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2! I cannot even!

Okay, Important note 1: Glee is back on September 20th! The joy!

I.N. 2: Chord not being promoted...broke my heart. But he's still going to be there, so SAMCEDES! Life is good (and you know, Darren and Harry were promoted too!)

I.N. 3: Updating should definatley be more regular now that Summer's started!

Enjoy, my dears!

* * *

><p>The Road Unknown.<p>

Chapter 3: Funeral.

Sam was sitting, his legs open in a 'V', his hands resting on his thighs. Mr Schue was running late, as per usual, and when he stumbled in, binder in hand, he looked vaguely nervous.

He cleared his throat, and said, unsurely, "New Directions. I would like to introduce you to our new show choir consultant, Jesse St. James." Sam raised an eyebrow, _this guy was serious about that_? He thought.

Apparently, because there he was, hair gelled back, and a wolfish grin on his smug face. Rachel was leaning forwards, her chest heaving slightly as she clapped, grinning wildly.

"I don't trust this guy," Finn declared instantaneously, "How do we know he's not just gonna trick us into doing something stupid so his alma mater wins." It was a pathetic excuse, and Finn knew it.

"I don't think I need to do much tricking to get you to do something stupid, Finn" Jesse retorted, that smile still spread across his face, but his eyes were tight.

"Guys," Mr Schue consoled, before tempers could rise, "Jesse is _just_ a consultant, I still make all the calls." Not according to the sly wink Jesse slipped Rachel when Mr Schue wasn't looking, he didn't. "Now I have all the confidence in the world in you guys, I just think we could use all the help we can get, because...this is it."

Sam felt a grin slip over his own face at the word on the white board- '_Nationals'_. "We have been working so hard for two years for this moment, and that moment is finally here. Now I was talking with Jesse and he agreed that we should continue with our successful trend of doing original songs for the competition." So Finchel would be taking the leads again then. "I was thinking of doing one group number, and one duet."

Finn jumped on that immediately. "Rachel and I should sing a duet. We killed it last year at Regionals with '_Faithfully'_." He explained.

"Yeah, killed us, we lost." Quinn said, sounding put out and only a little upset. Sam imagined her studiously not looking at her boyfriend.

"May I?" Jesse asked.

"Uh, yeah." Mr Schue said with a sweeping gesture towards the group.

"I agree that Rachel should sing lead" He said, and Sam could feel the grin on Rachel's face, "But, Finn I think it's best if you sit this one out. Fact is most of the other guys in here are better singers, and Mike Chang who can't even sing can at least dance. You kind of sing and dance like a zombie who has to poop."

Snickers broke out across the room and Sam heard Mercedes giggling quietly, attempting to muffle it. Sam can't help the crooked, half smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

"You see you see what I'm talking about? This guy's a jerk." Finn shouted, indignantly.

"Jesse, maybe you could, uh, be a little gentler with your advice." Mr Schue said, sporting his own grin, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

"Gentle?" Jesse asked, staring Mr Schue down.

"Yes." Mr Schue's reply was firm, full of authority.

Authority that Jesse, it seemed, was determined to ignore. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise that we were training for the 'good try' ribbon at Nationals." There was a few angry mutters and shared looks. "I thought we were in it to win the whole damn thing. And there's only one way we can do that."

"Poison darts?" Brittany suggested, and, you know, it wasn't a bad idea- they'd win by default.

Did Sam honestly just think that? Wow, was he getting competitive over this.

"The Vocal Adrenaline strategy is simple. Identify your best performer and build the entire performance around them." Jesse said, smiling like this was perfectly normal.

"So what does everyone else do?" Mercedes asked, and Sam saw her hands turn upwards questioningly inside the pockets of her pink jacket.

_We'd all dance around you, while you rock the house_, Sam thought- because, really, her voice was something spectacular.

"And who's our star performer?" Puck questioned.

"We're gonna have auditions to find out." Mr Schue informed them, looking uncomfortable with the notion. "I'm going to post the sign-up sheet later this afternoon."

"Mr Schue don't you think this is kind of not our style?" Finn said, sounding genuinely upset at the thought of not doing this thing as a team.

All Sam could see was Mercedes taking that lead, standing in the centre of those bright lights, her brown eyes sparkling, and her smile true and brilliant.

"Normally I'd agree with you Finn, but this is the big time, I think we should listen to Jesse." Sam turned his head slightly to look the Frankenteen in the eyes, shrugging. He really wanted this for Mercedes- because even though a lot of the Glee kids were neglected vocally she _deserved_ that spotlight, the applause, and everything that came with being as amazing as she was.

No one complained after that.

Sam was on his way to English when he saw the sign-up sheet. There was one name scrawled across the top: _Santana Lopez_.

He saw Mercedes gliding through the crowded hallway before him, ducking past one of the jocks, whose eyes followed her as she disappeared into the mass of bodies.

Sam wasn't upset, or angry at that guy for looking at her like that- that was perfectly acceptable, because he knew how beautiful Mercedes was, and she was single, and he knew he wasn't the only sane guy in this school, and people were bound to _look, _but...

But he wanted to be the only one who could look at her like that, like she was the world- he wanted to show her that she was worth the world and then some, he wanted so much for her- so much that he couldn't give.

It was the first time he'd been angry about his situation for entirely selfish reasons.

He strode after her- and it wasn't following because they happened to have the same class this period- determined to get her to sign her name on that sheet, because it was all he could do for her right now.

He stealthily took the open seat next to Mercedes, and she looked up from her notebook inquisitively.

Sam flipped through his textbook for a minute, thinking over the possible ways of asking her about the solo auditions without sounding rude or accusatory.

"Why haven't you signed up for the solo yet?" Sam voice demanded an answer, and he immediately wished that he'd been less harsh about it.

Mercedes gawped at him mouthing words that wouldn't form actual sounds.

She collected herself, turning away from him. "There's no point, Sam, we both know that Rachel's going to get that solo- not because she's the best-" She was quick to assuage him, "But because St. James is in love with her, and will do anything to get her back. I'm not gonna set myself up for that kind of disappointment- I _can't_." Her voice broke on the last word, and Sam grabbed her hand instinctively.

He saw her eyes widen, and she looked up at him from underneath her long (how had he not noticed how long they were before?) eyelashes. "Sam?" She murmured.

His free hand trailed along her smooth cheek, before he could stop it, and he snapped out of it soon enough, taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning her head so that she had to look at him.

"Listen to me, Mercedes." She looked about ready to protest, but he shushed her. "Your voice is strong, powerful, and so unique and beautiful- Mr Schue would be insane to not see that. I have such a strong belief in you, and your talent. You're gonna own this thing. Please- I don't want to be stuck dancing behind Rachel or, heaven forbid, Santana."

The both laughed quietly at that, and Sam let go of her chin, missing the contact a little, his fingers tingling where the pads had touched her; he kept a hold of her hand though, at least until Mr Morgan started the class, and he had to take notes.

The back of his neck burned then, his thoughts negative and chiding- he wasn't supposed to be doing this.

He had little trouble taking his notes, although Mercedes leaned over a couple of times though the session to point out a few spelling mistakes or an incorrect word here and there.

By the end of the class, as he was scribbling the latest homework assignment down, his face was bright red with humiliation and embarrassment; but then Mercedes mouth was at his ear, her breath tickling his cheek.

"I'll do it." She whispered.

Sam forgot his embarrassment and just grinned.

Sam walked with Mercedes to the bulletin board. He grabbed her left hand, and she used her right to shakily lift the pen.

Sam played with her fingers as she signed her name below Kurt's. He stroked each digit gently, twiddling them between his own. He absentmindedly circled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger, gently rubbing the skin there. He could feel the tiny goosebumps that broke out across her arm, and he smiled a little.

He dropped his hold and trailed his fingers along her palm and along her fingers, matching them digit for digit. He curled his own, slightly longer fingers, around hers, and she reciprocated the action instinctively. He squeezed gently and let her hand fall to her side as she slid the pen back into its holder.

His gaze, which had been fixed on her hand, lifted to meet her eyes, smiling impishly at her sudden shyness.

Sam wondered if the blush spreading up the back of his neck is as painfully obvious as he thought it was.

"Thanks Sam." She whispered, the words travelling farther than they normally would have, in the emptying corridor.

"No problem." He assured her, "Do you have any song ideas?" He asked, bumping his shoulder against hers, and motioning for them to continue on their way to class.

"I'm not sure." She admitted, picking at her nails, and chipping the light blue polish on them. "I'll have to go through some old CDs when I get home..." She trailed off, her eyes narrowing, seemingly internally berating herself for one thought or another.

She exhaled heavily. "Sam?" She asked, a tinge of nervousness coating the word. "Would I be able to come over a run a few things by you?" Sam's feet failed him, stumbling, and then halting altogether.

"Yes...um sure, yeah." He corrected, his blush flaring back up.

They stand in their awkward little bubble for a few minutes before Mercedes gaze snapped to the door behind Sam.

She whispered her thanks and shuffled past him, the door _snick_ing audibly when she closed it.

Mr Schue was pacing the floor, awaiting them when they filed into Glee that afternoon. He looked stressed and upset, and he quickly ushered them to their seats.

Sam slid in between Mercedes and Kurt, shooting the latter a questioning look. The countertenor shrugged, fishing his iPhone out of his messenger bag, a bright smile flashing across his face when the screen lit up- 'One new message: Blaine'.

Sam rolled his eyes, and turned to see Mercedes watching the mini interacting with a raised eyebrow and a small smile.

"You two have become really good friends." She said- a statement. "I think it's great," she lowered her voice, in case Kurt overheard, even though he was obviously sufficiently distracted by his boyfriends' texts, "He doesn't have many guy friends- even Finn's uncomfortable around sometimes, because Kurt comes on really strong- but it's just because my boy has so much passion for everything he does; because he loves so fiercely, you know?"

Sam's heart went out to her, this girl who was so strong in the face of adversity, standing by her best friend when he needed her, when practically anyone else would have just walked away, accepting him in spite of her religion (which Sam struggled with, too), and just...

Sam sighed, a little dreamily, "You're wonderful."

She whacked his arm playfully, "Damn crazy boy, what's gotten into you?"

Sam grumbled at her, poking her side and watching her lips twitch, her chest heaving in silent laughter.

"You ticklish, Jones?" He asked, reaching for her sides, but she grabbed him by his wrists, redirecting them and holding them against his sides. He could have wormed his way out of the situation easily enough, but there was this little part of his brain that was acting like fanboy, and squealing because, for some absurd reason, she'd initiated contact- which was a first.

He rolled his wrists in her grasp, and she just held on tighter, a small giggle escaping her lips- she bit down on her lower lip to stop the stream of them waiting to be released.

Sam fell into making silly faces at her to get her to crack up, but it turned out that she had a mean poker face.

He was about to up his game- all out impressions, maybe some _Spock_..._Harry potter, the Lord of the Rings_ if he could find a fitting one...

Mr Schue coughed loudly, instantly catching everyone's attention; Kurt's phone was slid back into his bag, Quinn stopped smirking at Rachel over Finn's shoulder, and Mercedes' hands dropped from around his wrists, and his arms hung there, limp and useless for a brief second before he clasped them in his lap.

"You guys, before we get started into thinking about Regionals, I just want to tell you to be...Easy...On Coach Sylvester, for a little while."

Murmurs broke out among a few members, and Kurt's hand was in the air, although Mr Schue ignored it, causing the young brunette to scowl, and glare.

It was Tina who voiced the question that was on all their tongues, "Mr Schue, why? Ms Sylvester has never gone out of her way to be decent to us- what possible reason could you for making us be nice to her?"

Their director sighed, and dragged a chair up and sat, staring contemplatively at them all, a slump in his shoulders and his eyes intense.

"Her sister, Jean, died yesterday, and she's in a bad place right now- she doesn't really know what to do with herself." Sam heard Kurt gasp, and in the front row Santana linked pinkies with Brittany, the two girls sharing a sad look.

"She'll most likely take her emotions out on us, and I want you to just...let her. Just for a little while, because it won't help anything to fight back at this point in time."

"So," Mercedes said, her voice quiet but carrying, her eyes fixated on the bearer of bad news, "You want us to just sit back and take her abuse because she's having a tough time? She'd never do that for us; and I don't think she'd appreciate it from us- us treating her differently for this will make her think that we pity her; that we don't respect or fear her anymore, just because she's hit a weak spot. I for one, won't tone my sass down for this- no matter how sad I am for her."

Everyone's just kind of staring at her now, and she looked just about ready to stand and tell them off some more, but then Kurt elbowed Sam, and he's holding out his hand, making a grabby motion and pointing towards his best friend; Sam caught on pretty quickly, and takes Mercedes hand in his, a sense of familiarity and comfort coming over him the second her fingers slip between his.

Kurt cleared his throat, though he sounds suspiciously like he's been holding back tears. "I agree with 'Cedes- it's like when my dad was in the hospital, I didn't want you to treat me any differently just because he might not have made it, I just wanted a support system- we'll be that by doing what we do best; being us and annoying her while we're at it."

That garnered a sweep of laughter from the rest of the New Directions, and the tension that had filled the room since Mr Schue told them that Jean had died lifted, and they were soon discussing possible song selections for the soloist to sing.

Sam hasn't even got the door closed behind him at home (if a motel can be considered 'home'), and Stacie had thrown herself at his legs, wrapping her spindly arms around them her nose pressed into his hip.

Sam's bag slipped from his fingers and his hands curled around her waist, lifting her into his arms, clasping his arms under her short legs, which had wound around his torso.

"Hey, Stace, what's wrong?" He asked, kicking the door shut, and gently stoking her back with one hand (had Stacie gotten heavier? Or was it just the lack of gym time he was getting in?).

The little blonde girl just sniffled and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck.

Sam rested his chin on her shaking shoulder so that he could navigate his way over to his bed.

"Stevie!" Sam called out as he sat down, toeing off his sneakers.

"Yeah?" The reply came from the kitchen, and Stevie's voice was muffled.

"C'mere." Stevie's sock soles made no sound as he padded his way into the bedroom, but the younger boy slid from the doorway to Sam, squealing the whole time, and falling face first onto Sam's bed.

"That was awesome." The eight year old mumbled, in awe. "Can I do it again?" He asked, lifting his head at staring with bright eyes at his brother.

Sam chuckled and ruffled Stevie's hair, "No, little man. Do you wanna tell me why Stacie's in hysterics?"

Stevie huffed and clambered up beside his siblings, curling into Sam's side.

"S'nothing, she's just being a cry baby." Stevie protested, peeking a bright blue eye open and glaring at his sister through it.

Sam elbowed the kid, "Cut it out." He shifted, setting Stacie on the bed (simultaneously causing Stevie to almost fall over), and kneeling before them.

He grabbed his little sisters' chin, forcing her to look at him. "You gonna tell me what's going on here?"

She shook her head, her green eyes bright, tears falling down her rosy cheeks, his lips quivering pathetically. Sam's heart broke for her- he hated seeing her like this; either of them really, Sam mused to himself, remembering a time when Stevie had thrown a fit when he found out that they were moving into a motel, and that a lot of his stuff would have to be sold off- his collector's item action figures, his television, his PS2...

Sam had taken him out of the picture and calmed him down enough to figure out that it wasn't really the things he would be missing- he was, at eight years old, worried about how it would affect his friendships with people- he wouldn't be able to join in, or have friends over like the other boys.

Then he'd burst out crying, saying that he'd only started making friends again, and he didn't want to be alone again.

Sam had hugged him and told him that his friends- if they were any kind of decent friends- wouldn't mind sharing with him, and maybe Stevie could go and stay with them for a little while.

"One of the girls in her class call her a...a tramp in school today...she said that 'cause Stace didn't have a proper home and 'cause mum and dad don't have jobs anymore that she's worthless, and..." Stevie trailed off, looking a little upset himself, as though he hadn't realised the implications of such taunts until he'd spoken them himself.

"That no one should be friends with someone who...who lives in a cheap motel, and doesn't have...a p-proper shower." Stacie finished, sniffling some more, wiping her arm across her face to remove the tears that lingered there.

Sam felt anger and revulsion churn in his stomach, his cheeks flaming for an entirely different reason that being around Mercedes caused.

Stevie seemed upset at this last part too, and his little face was hardened in anger, his lips set firmly- looking oddly like their mother.

Sam sighed, exhaling all his pent up anger, knowing that if he let it out now he'd just scare them and make them feel worse- they were too young to understand this properly, and poor Stacie didn't know why she was being called mean names.

He slipped in between both of them, wrapping an arm around each of them, letting them get comfortable; Stevie burying his face in Sam's side and Stacie lying down, and settling her head in Sam's lap, curling tightly into herself.

Sam felt his heart swell with love for them both, knowing that they were so innocent, and they were taking this so well for children their ages- minus the Stevie-tantrum- and that this was hard on them too- things had changed so abruptly, from living off savings that had piled up from his parents jobs, to being on the street with barely a chance to sell what they couldn't keep- leaving them with two cars full of material things, to be exact.

Eventually one of the cars had to be sold, just to keep up with the payment for the motel, and the money from that would last a little while, but when it ran out...that was it...they would have nothing else.

Sam's dad had wanted it sold quickly, and it had therefore gone for a whole lot less than he'd originally paid for it, which, while upsetting, didn't really account with them considering their desperate need for money.

So, yeah, things were becoming a little desperate at this point, and Sam knew that his parents were trying so hard to hide the stress and wear this was taking on them- not just financially, or as a family, but on their relationship.

Sam pretended not to hear the quiet arguments when his siblings were soundly asleep, tried to tune out the harsh words and the cold shoulders, focusing on the hasty make ups, the hugs and tears and little chaste kisses that used to make him cringe, but that he was now so grateful for because it meant that they were still on unit, two parents that were working on this mess together, no matter what was thrown at them.

He wasn't sure he would have been able to handle it, if he were in their position.

"You guys," He stared, shaking those thoughts from his head, "You can't listen to those kids- they have been listening to too many adult conversations, and don't really know what's going on- they're taking what their bigoted parents are saying, and spouting it at you out of pure spite."

"This family is strong, and we all love each other, and we have all we really need to keep each other going until we get back on our feet, okay?"

Stacie sniffed. "So I'm not smelly?" She asked, quietly, sounding so hopeful.

Sam bet over sniffing at her armpits, he pulled back, wrinkling his nose. "You smell horrible." He declared, smiling broadly at her, as though it were something to be proud of. She looked up at him, horrified, until she saw his smile.

"Sammy!" She squealed, jumping up, and hitting his shoulder, "That's so ...so mean." She exclaimed, falling onto his chest and hitting some more, her shoulders heaving, but this time with laughter.

They soon turned to hiccups, then hiccoughs, and Sam had to grab her a glass of water, while Stevie looked on, his smile blinding, giggling occasionally (though if anyone had asked the six year old he would say he'd been chuckling, because giggling wasn't _manly_ at all (except for when Kurt did it, 'cause his giggle sounded like music)).

While they calmed Sam took the opportunity to text Mercedes, and ask her if she minded waiting an extra half hour before coming over, because he still hadn't made dinner.

To: Sam.

From: Mercy,

_No problem, I'm still at Kurt's, and we've narrowed my song selections down. See ya later! ;)._

The little wink at the end did stupid things to Sam's heart, and he was therefore unable to reply.

Well, okay, he had to heat up the frozen Mac 'n' cheese for dinner, too, but that wasn't the point.

After dinner- during which Stacie and Stevie had argued over whose plate was whose, because, apparently, one had more Mac 'n' cheese on it (Sam had scooped some of his own onto the smaller plate and told them to eat, or he'd scoff the lot himself).

That had them chewing with vigour in no time.

Sam sat strumming his guitar, lounging on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, while they watched the TV, humming quietly to himself.

The Simpsons are having some sort of familial argument, involving (as always) Lisa, and Sam's trying really hard to ignore the chattering cartoon characters, and just focus on the music, because he hasn't done that in so long, and he missed it.

It's eight before Mercedes called around. Stacie opened the door, and squealed when she saw Mercedes, throwing her arms around the older girl, who swung little Stacie into her arms, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey, baby girl." Mercedes cooed, "Have you been working on that singing voice of yours?" Mercedes asked.

"Uhuh!" Stacie nodded eagerly, "Will you listen to me sing Mercedes? Huh?" Stacie begged, pouting up at the brunette.

Mercedes laughed, loud and true. "Sure, baby girl...maybe later? Sammy here has promised to help me with some of my own songs."

Stacie's eyes widened to an almost comical degree. "I get to hear you sing?" Are you gonna sing with Sam? 'Cause Sam only ever sings by himself. I think you'd sound real good together."

"Maybe." Sam interrupted, "If Mercedes would be kind enough."

"Maybe later." Mercedes agreed.

Sam took Stacie from Mercedes and threw her carefully onto her bed, making the mattress bounce.

"Whassgoinon?" Stevie slurred.

"Mercedes is here!" Stacie exclaimed, shaking her sleepy brother.

"They're adorable." Mercedes whispered to Sam, grinning up at him in a way that made his heart go crazy.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, still looking at Mercedes.

"So, Ms Jones," He said, formally, "What are our options?"

"I'm debating between _Try a little tenderness,_ and _River Deep, Mountain High_." Mercedes admitted. "What do you think? Kurt couldn't choose."

"I don't know- I can't remember _River Deep, Mountain High_, and I've never heard you sing _Try a little tenderness_. Lemme hear both, and well judge, right guys?" He said, turning to face his siblings.

They nodded eagerly.

Mercedes became suddenly shy. "You'll be great- go on!" Sam encouraged.

Setting his guitar to the side, he sat crisscross-applesauce on the floor, staring up at her.

She did _River Deep Mountain High_ first, and it was wonderful, spine chilling, and _Mercedes_. She rocked it, and all three Evans children clapped and cheered.

But when she sang _Try a little tenderness_, shivers raced up Sam's spine, her voice was everywhere- Mercedes owned this song- the song was her.

"That one!" Stevie announced as soon as she finished, Stacie nodded her agreement, wide eyed and grinning.

"Sam?" Mercedes asked, nervously.

"I...Yeah, that one." Sam stuttered.

"You sure?" Mercedes asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Sam stood, taking her hand as soon as he was in reaching distance, and curled his fingers around hers. "You'll blow them away, Mercy. That was...indescribable." He told her, sincerity lacing his voice.

"Thanks, crazy boy." Sam was slowly getting used to her nick name for him- he kind of liked it (not that he'd ever tell her that).

He wrapped her in a hug, holding her close.

Kurt and Finn were huddled together in a corner, whispering in quiet, serious tones, and Sam couldn't help but be mildly curious as to what they were discussing.

He didn't have to wait long to find out, because Mr Schue called them to attention, and Kurt's hand shot into the air gracefully, waving it about.

Mr Schue sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers. "Yes, Kurt?"

"Finn and I would like to speak to the class for a minute." Kurt said, his shoulders squared and his chin held high, as though daring Mr Schue to disregard his request.

"It's real important, Mr Schue." Finn added from his spot beside his brother. "It's about Ms Sylvester."

Jesse looked ready to interrupt and Mr Schue quickly beckoned them to the front of the room before an argument could start.

The brothers squeezed past their classmates and stood, unified, before them. Kurt gently rested a hand on his brothers' shoulder, patting it reassuringly. Finn smiled down at Kurt, and Sam was sort of proud of how far the two had come since the beginning of the school year.

"We need to help her." Sam momentarily forgot who Finn was talking about, too caught up in his own thoughts, but he caught on quickly. "She's overwhelmed, and she needs us to help her."

"Seriously?" Santana snarked. "I'd like to put the 'fun' back in 'funeral' just as much as the next girl, but why would the glee club help coach Sylvester plan a service." She sounded genuinely confused, and Sam could hear the underlying '_she's never done anything to help us_,' in there.

Kurt was quick to cut in, "We're not doing it for Sue, we're doing it for her sister."

"Jean is just like us guys." Finn informed them, "I mean she's been an outsider and an underdog all of her life. We of all people should celebrate that."

"Can I say something?" Jesse asked, even though Sam was sure he would have added his two cents whether they gave him permission or not. "When someone dies, yes, it's a tragedy, but it's also a part of life, and you can't let death put _your_ life on hold." Sam saw Brittany nodding a little behind him, and Sam couldn't say that it didn't make sense- it did, for you know a long time from now. It took time for the pain of losing someone close to you to dim, and even then it was still there like a constant ache. This pompous idiot obviously didn't understand that loss, or he was a cold hearted ass.

"Now I don't mean to be blunt," Which indicated that he wanted to be exactly that, Sam though, . "But I don't think you should be planning a funeral the same week you should be focusing on the set list for nationals. "

Kurt was glaring at Jesse in a way that made Sam glad he wasn't on the countertenor's bad side. The shorter boy rolled his head back to share a look with his brother, both of them looking equally appalled.

"Seriously? You...you're serious?" Finn stammered, indignantly.

"Actually yes, I am." Jesse retorted, leaning back into his chair and propping an elbow on the back of said chair clicking his pen and smirking at them all, acting smugly superior.

"Do you know what vocal adrenaline is doing right now? They're in their third week of 24 hour a day rehearsals. They're on an IV drip, that's how hard they're working." Sam felt his jaw pop as his lips fell apart in shock. "Do you know what happens in vocal adrenaline if someone dies during a number?" _Dying? During a performance?_ Sam's palms felt sweaty, and his heart pounded uncomfortably at the very thought."They use them as a prop, like weekend at Bernie's."

The room was thick with horror.

"No." Finn stated firmly. "Thanks for your _input_ Jesse, but we're helping Sue with the service for her sister." Sam nodded solemnly with the rest of the New Directions, and Finn turned to his ex girlfriend. "Rachel. You said I needed to be more of a leader of this club, well here goes. I'm making the call. We're doing this."

Jesse sighed, looking exasperated with the lot of them, but Mr Schue is leaning forward, staring at Finn like a proud father, a giant grin on his face.

Sam can't really blame the man- this is the first time that Sam can honestly say that he's respected Finn, or any of his choices or actions.

Kurt smiled brightly up at his just younger brother and wrapped an arm around his waist in a half hug, which Finn happily reciprocated.

Sam wanted to go in and watch the performances, but Mr. Schue told them, specifically, that is was a closed audition.

This didn't stop Sam from settling on the floor outside the auditorium, pressing his ear to the door, and listening in; he was joined by Puck, Tina, Mike, and Finn.

He couldn't really hear Santana- the thumping music was more audible, but from what he did catch was pretty good- nothing as mind blowing as Mercedes' rendition of _Try a little tenderness_.

Kurt went next- his voice distinctive. He sounded good, though Sam was sure that this Jesse guy would pick at Kurt's song choice (Sam had been told by Finn that it was originally a girl's song).

The it was Mercedes turn, and Sam shuffled past Puck, who was closest to the door, and discreetly pried it open, rolling his eyes at the odd looks he was getting.

"I can't hear properly." He said, and stuck his head through the crack the door made, followed closely by his companions.

She, amazingly, sounded even better with music backing her up. Mercedes blew the roof of the auditorium, and Sam couldn't help but grin wildly at her finish.

He heard Mr. Schue complement her, and Sam knew she had to have this in the bag.

He backed out slowly, taking his former seat, grinning and waiting for the contestants to file out, knowing that Rachel still had to audition, but not caring, because she couldn't possibly top _that_.

The next day is spent rehearsing for the funeral. Kurt stormed though the lunch time practice, filled with enthusiasm and great ideas.

He'd wrangled help from some of the art department, who were giving up their free time to make the decorations that Kurt had in mind- he's walking around, studying their work, and criticising it whenever he felt it was necessary.

They all wonder at Kurt's song selection (though Sam quite liked it, he was just unsure as to why they were using it).

"Why _Pure Imagination_?" Mike asked.

"Willy Wonka was Jean's favourite movie." Finn explained. "Sue said that she watched it a lot- and if the worn tape she had is any indication she was telling the truth."

"That," Kurt cut in, "And we asked the Jean's nurse, and she said that they always had to rewind to 'Pure imagination."

"I think Pure Imagination is a perfect portrayal of Jean," Kurt added, "And all that she adored- she had piles of storybooks, lots of videos; everything indicates to her loving all of these new worlds with new characters and her having the imagination to bring them to life.

"I want to show how unique and special she was to Sue." Kurt said, his voice softer now, his eyes grey and cast down. "Everyone deserves to be celebrated in a way they would have wanted. I think Jean would have wanted this- even if I didn't know her."

Finn smiled down at his little brother and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"I'm with Kurt- we're gonna give Jean the best send off, _ever_." Finn said, and Artie high fived the taller boy.

"I think Coach Sylvester, and Jean would love that Kurt." Sam said, when no one else responded to the brothers' speech.

Finn grinned goofily at Sam, and Kurt didn't seem to be able to manage one, but his eyes were grateful.

Sam filtered in about ten minutes before the ceremony was due to start, and took his seat.

The ovular room was generally bare, with floor length curtains at the front of the room. They were pulled back to reveal Jean's casket, which was sitting atop some fake grass, and was topped by a neat floral arrangement.

The dimmed lighting lit up the mushrooms, stones and giant lollipops that were strategically placed around the casket.

There's an empty space to its' right hand side, where they glee club will perform, and to its left is a barrier between the congregation and the band, who are softly playing the melody to 'Pure imagination'.

There's a soft bubbling coming from the fountain just visible on the far side of the casket.

Sam caught a glimpse of a small portrait of an older woman, with grey wavy hair, a happy smile and bright eyes, who vaguely resembled one Sue Sylvester- it's placed so that it's visible from any position in the room.

Sue and Mr Schue entered. Finn and Kurt stood, meeting them just in front of the coffin, but Sam can't hear what they're saying. Mercedes smiled sadly at her best friend and his brother.

All four of them took their seats, and the clergy man took his place at the podium.

"Welcome to the most unusual funeral that I have ever attended." He began, "Which makes sense because Jean was the most unusual person that I ever had the pleasure to spend every Sunday for the last 30 years with. I think that Jean's sister Sue would like to say a few words." He nodded at Sue.

She took the podium, putting on her glasses and fidgeting with her blazer, avoiding eye contact with the other members of the congregation..She took a couple of deep breaths before speaking.

"I miss my sister. Every night at ten or so you she used to call me on the phone, and when I asked her why she'd say that her body told her..." She choked up, "She wanted to hear my voice." Sue readjusted her glasses and closed her eyes tightly against an onslaught of tears. It didn't work and Sam saw the tears slip down her face as she finally became overwhelmed.

Mr Schue stood quickly and took her place shuffling her to the side, and saying something quietly to her.

"I miss my sister, the smell of her shampoo, the way she could always convince me to read her another book." Sam let a small smile grace his face. "When you love someone like I loved her they're a part of you. it's like you're attached by this invisible tether, and no matter how far away you are you can always feel them." Sam sniffled, his mind drifting to Mercedes, and feeling guilty for not paying Jean the respect she deserved. "And now every time I reach for that tether I know there's no one on the other end, and I feel like I'm falling into nothingness."

"Then I remember Jean," Mr. Schue continued. "I remember a life lead with no enemies, no resentments, no regrets, and I'm inspired to get up out of bed and go on. I miss my sister so much...it feels like a piece of me has been ripped off. Just one more time I wanna hold her. Ten more seconds, it that too much to ask? For ten more seconds to hold her?" A tear fell down Sam's face, his heart beating uncomfortably, and wishing that he would never have to feel that way- it seemed like too many emotions, and too much hurt.

His heart went out to Sue Sylvester for the first time ever.

"But I can't," Mr. Schue said, wrapping an arm around Sue's shoulder, "And I won't, and the only thing keeping me from being swallowed whole by sadness is that Jean would kill me if I did. So for now, I'm just going to miss her. I love you Jeanie, rest in peace."

Sam walked around the casket, wiping at his now red cheeks, and helped Mike reposition the TV slightly, allowing the other boy to turn it on.

"This was Jean's favourite song." Finn said, smiling gently at Sue, and she nodded.

Sam took his position as Tina introduced the song with a quote from the movie.

Kurt and Finn took the opening verse, and Sam harmonised throughout, trying to keep his eyes away from the TV screen, having already seen it all the way through earlier that day, and having cried like a baby; he didn't want a repeat of that.

Sue thanked them in a small voice- aiming it particularly at Finn and Kurt, the former of the two nodding at her, and smiling softly, and the latter crying silently, a small, gentle smile on his face.

When he arrived home that afternoon he went straight to Mrs Jensen next door, and dragged his siblings home.

He shut the motel room door, easily discarding his books and jacket before pulling them into a bone crushing hug. They tried to squirm out of his grasp.

"What's up with you?" Stevie asked, scrutinising him harshly, as though he'd been abducted and replaced by a different Sam.

"I just really love you guys, okay?" He said, ushering them over to their beds. "Were gonna spend the rest of tonight just watching movies together, okay?"

Sam grabbed the TV remote, and flopped in between his siblings, flicking through channel after channel until they found something they could all agree on.

He can't help thinking, as _Forrest Gump_ recited his story, that he was damn have his family; they were all alive, and safe and healthy- it didn't seem to matter that much, just then, that they didn't have many material possessions, or that they lived in a motel, with only one bedroom, or that their parents were never home, because they had all that- a roof over their heads, and parents who loved them, and did their best for them.

They fell asleep together, Sam stuck in the crook between the two beds.

A few hours later Sam woke to the door swinging open, light from the street pouring in, his parents' hushed voices carrying easily through the previously silent room.

The door shut quietly, and heels clicked on the wooden flooring. "Sam?" His mum's voice asked, hovering above him.

"Yeah?" He slurred, rubbing at his bleary eyes, and blinking rapidly up at her. "Whaswrong?"

"I was just seeing if you were asleep, honey." She reassured him, her hand patting down his hair and kissing his forehead softly.

"'Kay."He mumbled, snuggling back into his crook.

His mum slipped away and whispered something to his dad.

"Hey, guys?" He said, "I love you."

He fell back to sleep with a small, content smile on his face.

Sam's pushing past the milling crowd to find the post of who, exactly, won the solo spot, he bumped a freshman who's ogling the notice boards, drinking it in with fervour, out of his way, mumbling a barely audible 'excuse me', and letting his eyes roam the board.

The words 'Emergency meeting' popped out at him, and Sam's heart quickened.

What did that mean? That could mean anything, anything whatsoever.

He scrambled away from it, his mind racing- he had to find Mercedes before she saw the notice board- and before he was late to his next (and last) class.

He doesn't find her, and his leg's jiggling all through Geography, his mind everywhere but the work they're being assigned.

Mr Schue was running late for their emergency meeting, and he looked slightly harassed, but more comfortable than he had all week.

Santana latched onto the opportunity to voice her opinion first. "Oh, Mr Schue, thank God you're here to put these trolls out of their misery." She exclaimed. "Can you just announce my win so that I can get on with teasing the losers. " She said, with a fantastic smirk.

"I heard your performance Santana," Kurt said scathingly, his body turned away from her, "This is mine and you know it."

Mr Schue turned to his consultant, who had followed him into the choir room and had taken to standing behind the former, looking a little confused, but overall giving off his usual confident vibe.

"You see Jesse, this is think kind of infighting and me-first attitude that I wanted to avoid." Mr Schue explained.

"What you call infighting I call motivation." Jesse said, as though it was supposed to be reassuring. "And this is just the beginning. Once we get to nationals I'll having them willing to kill each other for that solo. " He looked way to happy at that prospect, and it made Sam feel vaguely sick.

"No. I've changed my mind." The instructor informed them, a note of finality in his voice. "We're going back to what got us here- original songs sung by the entire club. We're a team, and we're best when we work as one."

Well, Sam wasn't going to argue with that logic.

"You're going to lose." Jesse informed his employer.

"Whatever we do," Mr Schue said, facing his students, "We're gonna do it together."

Jesse scoffed and went to sit beside Rachel, who patted his arm in a consoling manner, looking a little put out herself.

"Actually Santana you sounded pretty good." Kurt admitted, smiling down at the now gently smiling girl.

"Thanks. You guys were all pretty dope too. Even Rachel." She confessed, seeming genuine.

"I wish I could sound like you do Santana." Rachel told the taller girl, "I mean how do you get that raspyness?"

"So nice." Santana continued confidentially, "I smoke cigars."

Sam knew that his family was insane, and he was grateful for it now, as grudges were let go of, and everyone came together when it was most needed.

Mr Schuester's grinning at them all, even Jesse's incredulous face and raised eyebrow.

"All right guys, it's time to get to work." He tossed a rhyming dictionary in the air, catching it agilely. Sam stood and squeezed past Rachel and Jesse's chairs to grab a copy.

"Now I want two hit songs by the time the wheels touch down at JFK. Come on."

Sam could feel the adrenaline rush kicking in at the thought of that plane ride to New York.

* * *

><p>Leave me you love- Reviews are still (and probably always will be) like crack to me.<p>

Oh, guys, I made myself a Tumblr! Follow me(I'm not very interesting, but still...), at scared-like-me. tumblr. com

Drop me a prompt, or ideas, or personal questions, anything.

Love and huggles,

Heal My Bleeding Heart.


	4. Chapter 4

You guys...

I'm just going to take a moment to appereciate all of you, and all your wondnerfulness- you put up with me and read all of my scribbles, and like it (for reasons unknown). So thank you. You all have a special place in my heart!

(Also I forgot a disclaimer in the last chapter...but I think we all know, by now, that I don't own Glee, or _'You in a song'_, by Jason Reeves).

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>The Road Unknown.<p>

Chapter four: New York.

* * *

><p>Sam waded through a sea of people, a hand clasped in one of Puck and Quinn's respectively as they fought their way to the rest of their group.<p>

They burst out into a corridor, in which the crowd was scarce and scattered.

Puck quickly disengaged their hands, and ran a hand through his mohawk. Quinn snorted and stalked over to Artie's side, smiling down at the bespectacled boy, a short laugh escaping her lips at something he said in greeting.

It was an odd sort of friendship, but it had been blossoming quickly and easily for a few weeks now, and Quinn seemed a lot happier now that she wasn't basing her life around another person- Sam felt that Quinn was a little dense when it came to relationships, and she'd be better off alone until she worked all of her own crap out.

Sam grinned at Mercedes, who was chilling with Tina (who had sprawled out along a row of chairs, and had her head resting in Mercedes' lap), and rolled his eyes at Mike who was staring at his girlfriend sappily, a wide grin on his face, his eyes glassed over and far away.

When everyone had congregated, Glee club members along with relatives who had come to say their goodbyes, Mr. Schue called a passport check.

Sam's mum shuffled over to him, fussing with his hair and straightening his shirt.

"Mum," He whinged. "Stop it." He batted her hands away, a dark flush spreading quickly across his face, as he ran a hand through his hair.

She sniffed at him in a manner that would seem, to others, signified and haughty; but Sam knew his mum and he knew that she was trying to hold back tears. He sighed, a little exasperated, but mostly fondly, and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm only going to be gone for a few days, mum." He assured her, holding her close, and secretly revelling in the smell of her perfume and the comfort of his mother's hug.

"I know," She mumbled into his shoulder, "But you're growing up so fast, and going off to New York." On the last word her voice rose shrilly, and broke.

"Ma, I'm coming straight home, and I'll call you, if you want." She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and pulling away from his embrace.

She grabbed his hand and something scrunched and paper thing was pressed into his palm. "Mum?" He asked, eyes widening as she removed her hand to reveal a thin wad of money, perhaps fifty or sixty dollars.

"For you baby, your father and I are so proud of you- take it and use it well." She directed an none-too-subtle glance at Mercedes, who smiled beatifically, happily oblivious.

"Mum, we can't afford this. I won't take it." He hissed quietly, attempting to stuff it back into her clenched hands.

She just smiled at him, and pecked his cheek. "Keep it- I have to go meet your dad. Be safe, Sammy." Then she was gone, leaving a gaping Sam in her wake.

"Trouty Mouth?" Santana practically purred at his side, "You okay?" She had her hip cocked, hand settled on it, her eyebrow raised, her smile mocking, but her eyes were genuinely worried.

"Yeah, San, I'm okay." He said, quietly.

"Good," She dropped her stance and nudged him, her smile widening and her eyes glittering with sudden excitement. "Now, cheer up, we're going to New York!"

Brittany grinned over at them, and Santana winked at the blonde, who waved in response.

"Go on," Sam said, sighing wearily. Santana looked questioningly up at him."Go talk with her, I'll amuse myself until Mr. Schue gets his stuff together." Santana huffed playfully but walked away, her sights set primarily on one Brittany S. Pierce.

Sam wandered over to the seating area and sank into a cushioned chair, leaning back his head cradled in his interlaced fingers.

Mike had moved away to talk to Puck and Finn, the latter of whom was studiously ignoring Rachel; the brunette huffed at his apparent lack of interest in her, before stalking over to Mercedes and Tina, who shared a look at the divas' long strides and the angry set of her mouth.

Sam shot Tina a wicked grin, shrugging in a 'what can you do?' sort of way at the two seemingly distressed girls.

Mercedes glared at him, but turned to listen to what Sam was certain would be a Rachel Berry rant of epic proportions.

He scanned the rest of the group and noticed that Kurt was missing. Sam stood and made his way over to Finn, confronting the taller boy about his brother's absence.

"He went over that way," Finn gestured vaguely to the left, "To say bye to the parents...and Blaine." At the latter's name Puck scoffed and rolled his eyes and Mike grinned.

Sam wasn't really sure what that was about, and he didn't question it further, instead he lost himself in a conversation until it was time to board.

* * *

><p>They scrambled for the winding tunnel to the plane, everyone chattering excitedly over everyone else. Santana squealed discreetly, and half hugged her best friend; Quinn and Rachel had formed a truce in light of <em>New York<em>, the latter rolling Artie along, and the former in Artie's lap; Kurt, Mercedes and Finn were all laughing brightly and loudly, Mercedes smile sparking Sam's own, and her laugh sending chills up his spine.

Mike and Tina walked along beside Sam, so tangled together that Sam couldn't tell one from the other, the latter of the two whispering into his girlfriend's ear, and kissing her cheek.

She leaned further into Mike, but untangled one of her arms from him and poked Sam's side. "You exited Sam?" Tina asked, eyes bright with joy.

Sam's answering grin was enough, and he was pulled into a 'Sam-sandwich' in which his breath was taken away. Sam half laughed, half groaned, and hugged them both back, his enthusiasm overflowing as he realised that this was _actually_ happening.

Their three-people-person attempted to squeeze onto the plane, and the attendant admonished them, and they untangled; still giddy, and regretting nothing as they filed on board, searching for the rest of the New Directions.

They caught up to them, finding the majority of their team mates had taken their seats- assigned by Mr. Schue. They were shuffled into the last row, and Mr. Schue slipped into a separate row where two other travellers were already seated and talking animatedly.

It seemed to take forever for the plane to take off, but when it did everyone was settled in comfortably, and were chatting among themselves.

Sam didn't feel like joining in- getting up early wasn't his cup of tea, as he wasn't a morning person; instead he stared out the window at the amazing view the plane offered. No matter where they were it took his breath away.

* * *

><p>They sat, eating with favoured enthusiasm, the plane food considered to horrible to digest.<p>

They contemplated actually starting into their song writing (It would be about time, Sam thought, seeing as the competition was only a few days away), but Kurt calmed them down before busting into 'New York'.

Sam couldn't help but join in, still pretty much in awe of all things New York; the billboards (he may or may not have stared at Daniel Radcliffe's looming poster for a few minutes, in awe of one of his favourite actors); Times Square- they'd taken a detour past the Statue of liberty in their taxis and he'd stolen Mercedes' camera to snap some pictures.

"Guys," Rachel interrupted, looking awfully proud of herself, her hands clasped behind her back. "I have news. To celebrate our impending win at Nationals I got us all thirteen tickets to Broadways' longest running show, ever..._Cats_."

"Whoo!" Brittany exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

Sam wasn't really one for Broadway (although Rachel and Mercedes had rocked 'Take me or leave me'), but the thought of it was exciting- an actual live Broadway show.

Quinn brought them all down, though. "You might want to check the dates on those tickets Rachel, because _Cats_ closed about eleven years ago."

Grins slid from everyone's faces, and Sam felt a small surge of disappointment (along with the niggling feeling that Rachel should have _known_ that, because wasn't Broadway her thing?).

"He did seem crazy," Rachel admitted, and continued, looking slightly disgusted. "He charged my credit card by swiping it through his butt crack."

Sam groaned, trying to remove the mental image of some old creeper, swiping Rachel's card through his butt crack.

* * *

><p>Sam rolled his suitcase (why the hell had he bothered with a suitcase? They were only going to be here for a few days) through their hotel lobby, watching everyone split up to meander around- Mercedes, Quinn and Tina following an overexcited Kurt to a small lounge with comfortable looking leather chairs, discussing something that made Mercedes hoist her chin high, a small, superior smirk lighting her face.<p>

It kind of suited her.

Sam stood by an elevator, waiting for Mr Schue to tell him what level they were on.

The man in question jogged over to Sam, running a hand through his gelled back curls. "Where's everyone else?" He questioned the younger man.

"Dunno." Sam shrugged, stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket. "They all split up- some of 'em are in the lounge, I saw Puck drag Lauren off somewhere."

Mr Schue sighed. "I don't want to know what those two are getting up to. Listen I'm gonna round them up, we're on floor ten- rooms 913 and 914. Boys are in the latter." And the older man handed over a key card. "Head on up." Sam nodded, pressing the elevator button.

Mr Schue hurried off just as Mike came around the corner, pushing Artie, who was jabbering excitedly.

"Guys." Sam jerked his head in greeting, and the elevator pinged. He gestured for them to go first and Sam slid in between Artie and one wall.

"You've been pretty quiet since we got here, bro," Artie said, staring up at him, his blue eyes large as he scrutinised Sam. "What's up?"

"Nothing..." Both other boys rose an eyebrow at that. "It's just...I'm here...and my parents, my siblings- they're sitting at home struggling, you know? It's not fair."

"Sam," Mike said, completely serious. "You need to calm down- they wouldn't have let you come if they weren't okay with it- it'll be fine- it's not up to you to worry about them, you're still young, and they wouldn't want you screwing up a trip to New York for their sakes. Just enjoy it for now."

Sam smiled, a little weakly, and nodded his consent.

"We are in New York, huh?" He said, wonder lacing his tone, the reality of his situation hitting him. "Dude, we're in New York!"

Artie raised a fist and Sam touched it with his own, both the blonde and the bespectacled boy holding out their respective fists to Mike, who bumped them both back, grins spreading across their faces and they strolled (well, wheeled, in Artie's case) into a narrow hallway.

"This is us." Mike said, jerking Artie's chair to a stop, and point to the room to his immediate left. Sam slid the card into its' slot, and pushing the door open. They deposited their bags, and Sam flopped onto one of the beds.

"Dude, this thing is like, heaven." Sam mumbled, his words muffled by the white quilt.

Mike jumped up beside him and Artie leaned forwards, and lay his head beside Sam's elbow.

"I concur." Artie murmured. "I call one of these things."

A few minutes, which were spent in comfortable silence, passed and the door was flung open, chatter boys filing in and disrupting the piece.

Puck 'fell' over Sam and Mike, crossing his legs and cushioning his head with his arms.

Sam grunted, and rolled out from under him.

Finn claimed the other bed, and Puck called the left side.

Mr Schue poked his head in, "Guys, into the girls' room, we've got some songs to write." They let out a collective whoop, and charged across the hall.

Sam threw himself across the bed at the far side of the girls' room, and Lauren punched his shoulder in greeting, giving the same welcome to Mike when he settled in beside her, the boy grabbed a cushion and curled an arm around it, shooting looks at Tina every so often.

Sam would have laughed at him, maybe pulled a joke about how whipped Mike was, but it was kind of cute how in love Tike were; they were obviously doing something right, because they'd lasted longer than any other couple in Glee.

Quinn stood from her position on the floor and sat crisscross-applesauce on the bed in front of him, while everyone else scattered out.

Sam shot a glance at Mercedes, who was lying down, her face propped up on her hand, on the opposite bed, giving their director her full attention- taking the notebook and pencil he handed her, and rolling said pencil between her fingertips.

Once everyone was equipped with proper writing materials (including their rhyming dictionaries), Mr Schue eyes kept shifting towards the door, looking nervous, and if Sam wasn't mistaken, a little guilty.

Kurt, who had been ignoring everyone in the room up until that point, lowered the menu he'd been studying, a grin spread across his face. "Do you know that I can get an ahi tartare and a steak sandwich at three in the morning from their all night dining menu? I feel like Eloise." He added, giddily.

"I have pills for that." Brittany told him.

"All right guys, this is your time." Mr Schue told them, gravitating to the door. "Now, you are all on lockdown until you finish writing our songs for Nationals. I want at least two solid verses by the time I get back."

"Aren't you going to help us?" Tina asked, sounding as confused as Sam felt.

"I, um...I will be back and read your amazing creations and give notes, but right now I have to head to the theatre to, uh, fill out some paper work." He raised his hands in a 'what can you do?' sort of motion and smiled tightly at them, before scurrying off.

Sam doodled on his notebook absentmindedly until the door snicked shut, and then sighed.

"I don't believe a word he just said." Sam admitted quietly.

"Me neither." Finn agreed.

"That," Rachel said, stuffily, "Doesn't matter right now. Chop, chop everyone- get writing."

Quinn groaned, and Sam couldn't help but internally agree with her assessment.

* * *

><p>Over the next few hours people moved about, milling and discussing song ideas. Brittany and Artie were suddenly curled up in a corner of the room, laughing quietly, and grinning mischievously.<p>

Eventually the two asked everyone for their attention and they gathered on the beds to watch the performance, handing Puck the sheet music to go over.

'My cup' was ridiculous- like 'Trouty mouth' ridiculous, but it gave Sam a good laugh; Brittany and Artie were having fun (well, Artie just seemed glad that Brittany was speaking to him again).

Brittany knelt in front of Mercedes, singing right at her, and she shot Sam a confused look. Sam just smiled crookedly at her; he could feel the mattress they were on shaking with Santana's muted laughter.

"Hold on," Tina protested, "Are you singing about a _cup_?"

"Yeah, totally." Brittany replied, one hand on a handle of Artie's wheelchair, smiling at them all, like a puppy awaiting approval from its owner.

Quinn stood, grabbing her bright orange coat.

"We gotta get out of here." Quinn announced.

"Wait, no, no, no," Rachel argued, "Mr Schue gave us explicit instructions."

"To write a song." Quinn countered, shouldering her coat on. "And our problem is that our only inspiration are mattresses and bathroom cups."

"Quinn's right." Puck said, pulling his guitar over his shoulders, and cupping the base of its neck carefully. "We're in the artists' capital of the world; poets, musicians, actors, playwrights. Every dreamer that's ever lived has passed through this city. If we want our dreams to come true we need to be out there with them, not stuck in here."

"Guys, I don't think this is a good idea." Finn argued, pushing up from his seat. "I mean, we've still got those songs to write, if we don't write 'em we're gonna lose."

Lauren piped up, "No, they're right." Her voice was filled with conviction, and passion for the city, "Can't you hear the city calling to you?"

"We don't need to write songs for Nationals," Quinn told Finn, "New York's going to write them for us."

Finn grinned down at the snow globe in his hand, like it the miniature New York held the key to all his dreams. He nodded at them, and everyone jumped to action. Sam toed on his shoes, and handed Mercedes her purple jacket, smiling as their fingertips brushed when she took it from him.

Sam hoped New York was ready for the New Directions.

* * *

><p>It was like one whirlwind tour- they were everywhere- Times Square, at the top of the Statue of Liberty, the bottom of the Empire State building, through the parks; there were horse drawn carriages dragging behind taxies upon taxies; they ran around a subway, before actually getting on one- which prompted Kurt to grin and burst out into some song from RENT (in his lower register, no less); it had Rachel laughing, and attempting to join in.<p>

They got a few weird looks for that one, but then again a few passengers joined in, dancing around with the two teens.

Sam wasn't surprised when they burst into 'I love New York/ New York New York', because it was bound to happen at some point, they ran down lanes, the sun filtering through trees, a police man on a horse smiling at them.

They all sat down on a long row of green, park benches, Sam slipping in between Quinn and Mercedes, leaning back, and stretching his hands along the finely polished wood- maybe briefly wondering if Mercedes would mind him wrapping an arm around her shoulders, or waist- not singing quite as loudly as some of the others, instead just revelling in New York and all her glory.

They all jumped up like a wave, and Sam grabbed Mercedes hand without thinking, tugging her past a few street stalls. He grabbed a bouquet of flowers, from a stall that was handing them out, and presented them to her with a flourish, grinning widely at her as she belted out a long 'New York...'

She ended up splitting them with Kurt, who winked at her, maybe thinking that Sam wasn't paying attention.

They ended up _on_ _top_ of the rim of a water fountain, somewhere that Sam couldn't identify, because there was just so much to take in.

He tugged his shirt away from his body, feeling the sweat rolling down his chest and gathering under his armpits, shooting a quick smile at his family.

* * *

><p>Lunch had been take out, delivered by Mr Schue- who wasn't happy to see that they only had the beginning of one song- not even a full verse, but it was something at least.<p>

They were allowed out anyway, to grab some junk food to pig out on, while they got writing.

Sam flicked through his rhyming dictionary, stuffing Cheetos into his mouth, and trying to find something to follow up 'tell me why we gotta stop', but coming to a dead end.

"You guys got anything?" He asked through a mouthful of crisps.

"Nah." Puck said, slumping into the sofa he'd taken over.

Finn turned away from the TV (which wasn't even switched on). "Hey, can I try something out on you guys?" He asked. "I think that one of our songs should be a duet with me and Rachel."

Mike finished folding a paper airplane, "I just wanna win." He admitted. "We all know that you two doing a duet is our best shot at that." He concluded chucking the plane at Finn, who was smiling.

"Awesome."

"Okay," Puck said, throwing an arm over his stomach, "Can we just talk about the Jewish elephant in the room? Ask her out dude." The mohawked boy encouraged, with a casual shrug.

"Who Rachel?" _No, Evanna Lynch_, Sam thought, "But she's totally into Jesse right now." Sam dropped his dictionary and just stared at the giant, stuffing some more Cheetos into his mouth, because he'd forgotten how _good_ those things were.

"You're in New York, the city of love." Puck reassured.

Sam raised an eyebrow, and said through the cheesy goodness in his mouth, "I thought that was Paris."

"Anything's possible here, you need to ask her out, _tonight_." Puck commanded, "Take her on one of those big, awful dates you see in those unwatchable romantic comedies that you grow a vagina if you watch all the way through."

Sam concurred.

"This is your shot dude," Sam said, "If I was in love with a girl, and I wasn't homeless, I would totally go for it." He assured, thinking of Mercedes (and wondering, oh, okay, _whoa_, when did he start thinking about her and love in the same context?).

* * *

><p>Finn's date had been a disaster; Rachel left a dumbstruck Finn behind, heading back to the hotel by herself.<p>

They walked back in relative silence, and when the others headed for the elevator Sam waved them off and told them he'd be up soon.

He wandered over to the lounge he'd seen, knowing he'd be unable to sleep, he trailed his fingers along the books lining a bookshelf that was perfectly situated between two snug couches. He glanced half-heartedly at some of the titles until he found one he wanted.

He grabbed the copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban that was squished awkwardly onto the single bookshelf. Said bookshelf sat in between two coffee tables, and he turned away from it and took a seat by the window, looking out into trees bending towards each other, creating a heart shaped archway.

Getting comfortable he cracked the well worn book open, immersing himself into the world he'd come to love.

Continuous reading of the books had gotten him used to the wording and how it flowed, but he still had difficulties with it when he came across certain words, or phrases, and on a very rare occasion he'd stumble over pronunciation of spells or places.

He was about halfway through chapter three his eyes getting heavier and his gaze wavering when a warm, familiar hand landed softly on his shoulder.

"Sam?" Mercedes questioned quietly.

Sam blinked sleepily up at her, rubbing absentmindedly at one of his eyes. "Yeah?" He asked, lazily.

Mercedes sighed., wrapping a hand around his upper arm. "Come on, let's get you to bed." She said, tugging his to his feet and half dragged him to the elevator.

Sam stumbled after her, yelping in surprise when she pushed him into the elevator.

"Damn, crazy boy, what were you thinking?" She mumbled, struggling to keep Sam upright. Sam leaned away from her, using the bar that lined the interior of the elevator to keep himself standing.

"Wasn't tired." He protested groggily.

"Uh-huh." Mercedes said dubiously. When his only response was his head drooping into his chest she sighed.

"Put your arm around me," She commanded wearily, and he complied, grateful.

He allowed her to drag his weight to his room, where he gained his senses and jumped away from her, suddenly alert.

She looked a little hurt, but rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him, leaning past him to knock on the door, as she retreated her lips (somehow) brushed his cheek.

"Night, Sammy." She whispered, and then in a whirl of bright pink pyjamas and a ringing click of the door opposite she was gone.

Puck answered the door, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness and the sight of Sam's overtired and slightly awestruck disposition.

* * *

><p>They all congregated in the boys' room at ten or so, finding out that Kurt and Rachel had disappeared somewhere together, and the Unholy Trinity were still getting ready for the day.<p>

"We've got the first half of 'Light up the world'." Finn announced, "Along with the chorus, obviously, we're just not really certain what to do with the ending." Finn announced.

Tina snatched Sam's notebook from Finn's hand (seeing as Sam and Puck had done most of the work on it, with a little help from Tina and Lauren), and hemmed and hawed at it for a minute.

"I think we should end on the chorus." Tina said, finally.

Mike nodded, kissing his girlfriend's cheek, and whispering something that Sam was sure he didn't need to know.

"Okay," Finn conceded, "But what about vocals, who's gonna sing what? I mean, guys, this could take a while, and we need Kurt and Rachel."

"Yeah, well, Hobbit and Porcelain have abandoned ship for now, so let's see what the rest of us can do, m'kay, Frankenteen?" Santana snarked, strolling in like she owned the place and slamming the door behind her, settling down beside Brittany and Quinn, who looked minutely happier than the last time Sam had seen her- she'd been fuming when he woke the girls up a few hours ago, bleary eyed himself.

"I think Brittany and Artie should sing this." Mercedes said, quietly, and everyone just kind of stared at her. She glared at them defensively, "I wanna sing as much as everybody, but they rocked 'My cup' together, you can't deny it, it would sound amazing."

Sam smiled a secret little smile, "I agree, we can do a test run to see how it goes." Sam directed his last comment at Finn who seemed ready to fight for his (and Rachel's) right to solo in this too.

"I don't think so," Santana interrupted, "Britt and I sound just as good together- I refuse to sit back and harmonise."

"Okay," Finn sighed, not willing to fight with her."Then tell us, what do you think should go down?"

Santana smirked, and laid down the law- and Sam thought to himself, it sounded kind of perfect for them.

When Rachel and Kurt got back they'd basically gotten the entirety of 'Light up the world' laid out- Santana would take the beginning, with Artie and Brittany taking the first half of the chorus, with the group joining in for the rest of the chorus.

Finn claimed the first half of the second verse with Tina and Artie taking the rest.

They ran it through a couple of times to make sure it worked, and decided that they deserved a break, passing the countertenor and their lead singer on the way out.

"Where are you going?" Rachel demanded, and Kurt just rolled his slightly puffy, red rimmed, eyes.

"Out," Puck said, shrugging and wrapping an arm around Lauren. "We've finished one song while you two were out doing whatever." And they walked off.

"Without us?" Rachel gasped, "Kurt, tell them that's not fair!" She said, stamping her foot.

The countertenor had taken out his iPhone, and was grinning goofily down at it, his eyes a little brighter, and warmer.

"Kurt!" She whined.

"Sorry, Rach, we weren't here. I don't really mind." He said, typing quickly, his iPhone pinging as his message sent.

The tiny brunette huffed, but seemed unable to stay grumpy for long; she latched onto Tina and began rambling off what she'd been up to that morning.

Sam quirked an eyebrow after them, but said nothing.

"You coming with us Kurt?" Sam asked.

"No, I think I'm going to go insideand phone Blaine...I love it here, but I still miss him, you know?" Kurt said, that goofy smile on his face again, his voice breathy and love struck.

Sam glanced over at where Mercedes was singing quietly with Santana, who had linked her pinkie with Brittany's.

Kurt smiled knowingly at Sam. "I know where you live Sam," Kurt threatened, but his eyes were soft as he looked at his best friend. "Take care of her- she deserves everything."

Sam nodded, a blush spreading up his neck, and the countertenor nodded right back, taping his phone and giggling at the message there, waving goodbye cheerily over his shoulder as he skipped through the revolving doors.

* * *

><p>They trouped back into the hotel in twos and threes, eventually convening in the lobby- just chatting idly with each other, recounting their afternoons.<p>

It kind of slipped Sam's mind that Kurt wasn't there, and no one else brought it up.

Tina slipped away with a kiss to Mike's cheek and a promise to be right back; no one thought anymore on it until she returned, face white and shocked.

Mike rushed to her side, Quinn following suit. They lead her to the lounge and sat her down, giving her a minute. When her breathing calmed Quinn backed off with a squeeze of her hand, allowing Tina' boyfriend to comfort her, to coax out her troubles.

"I..." Tina started, her voice catching, and her eyes beginning to water.

Sam shared a worried look with Finn, whose brows were pulled together, his large brown eyes confused.

Tears fell from Tina's eyes as she told them of her run in with Dustin Goolsby. "- To start in April's Broadway show." She finished with a sniffle, Mike pulling her into an awkward sort of hug, letting her cling to him.

They all had fallen into a confused stupor. Why hadn't Mr. Schue told them about this? Sam looked around at his friends, his family, and realised that they'd be one member short the following year.*

He kind of wanted a hug too, now. A hand slid into his from the left, and Quinn smiled a watery smile at him. "It'll be okay." She whispered, like she didn't quite believe it herself. She let go of his hand, and he stared at her, even more confused. She nodded her head at Artie, who was sat by himself, looking lost as couples comforted each other.

Sam raised an eyebrow at this- was there something going on there?

As though reading his mind Quinn elbowed his side, and scowled, "He's a really good friend- I'm not going to screw that up. He doesn't want that right now, and I neither do I- we both just need a friend." She admitted softly.

Sam smiled, a little sadly, at her, and indicated for her to go on, falling back himself, and noting that Mercedes had disappeared altogether.

Sam sunk to the floor, hanging his head, and pushing himself close to the armchair behind him, letting a few choked sobs escape, taking a few minutes to calm his sputtering heart, and scattered thoughts.

Someone's phone beeped, and a few seconds later Puck said, "Mr. S went to get some pizzas. He said he'll be back in an hour or so."

No one responded, but Sam saw Finn gather himself up, wipe his eyes and stand form his position beside Rachel, who didn't seem so opposed to his company now.

"So, are we going to do this or not?" Finn asked, quietly, staring them all down.

Tina looked up from Mike's shoulder. "I didn't come all this way for nothing." She stated.

"Hell yeah." Puck agreed, standing behind Artie and staring down at him and Quinn.

Artie raised his hand up, and nodded seriously. Quinn stood, high fiving his hand, and taking control of his wheelchair.

"Let's do this thing." She stated, jerking her head at them all and strutted off, pushing her new best friend along.

Everyone else followed suit.

* * *

><p>They had been lounging around, making some changes to the lyrics, and accompanying music for a good half hour now, waiting for Mr Schue to get back from his pizza run.<p>

Everyone was sombre, and no one was really doing anything productive. Sam stared blankly at the notebook in his lap, and wondered how the hell they would manage anything next year without Mr Schue- as biased and sometimes unobservant as he was, he was their director, and they couldn't do this without him encouraging them every step of the way.

He couldn't help but think that they'd be one member short next year.*

_Speak of the devil_, Sam thought as Mr Schue stumbled in, pizzas piled high in his arms

"All right guys, who up for some real New York City...pizza." He stumbled over the last word staring at them staring at him, seeming confused and apprehensive.

"We heard." Quinn said, clicking her pen.

"Heard what?" Mr Schue asked, genuinely unsure.

"About you leaving to be on Broadway." Mercedes told him, attempting a sad sort of half smile, that Sam hated seeing on her face.

Mr Schue took a deep breath, and looked away from them, thinking, as he set the pizzas down.

"Look," He said, "I haven't made up my mind about anything."

"We get it," Kurt reassured him, staring at the man who'd guided them for two years now, and hating how much he was going to miss him, "And we're happy for you." Kurt seemed genuine about that, though, if a little upset.

"You've inspired us in so many ways, so, this is just another." Rachel said, smiling tightly.

"I don't understand...who, who told you guys?"

"Goolsby." Tina stated, sadly.

"Are you okay, Mr Schue?" Mike asked.

"I'm not going." He said, "I'm staying with you guys. I had my moment on that stage and it was glorious," At this both Kurt and Rachel shared a knowing smile, "But you and I have some unfinished business to take care of. Now get out your notebooks. Time to get to work. Come on this is Nationals, people!"

Puck stood, pushing his notebook to the side and grabbing Mr Schue in a hug.

"I want in, I want in." Sam declared, smiling a little and standing to wrap his arms around the two men, and they were soon joined by the rest of the New Directions.

* * *

><p>The next day Sam was calm as they filed into their seats, and he bopped along to '<em>Yeah'<em>. "They're good." He whispered to Finn.

"Yeah, but we're better." Finn grinned.

Sam nodded and laughed a little, his view getting momentarily blocked by Mr Schue standing and shuffling into the aisle, and slipping out the back door after Goolsby.

There was a fifteen minute break between that act and Vocal Adrenaline, and they all stretched their legs, and took their bathroom breaks, knowing that they were next.

When they'd all settled back down, Sunshine Corazon took the centre stage, backed up by the rest of the drones, who stood in perfect formation at the sides of the stage. Their moves were perfectly synchronised, and pulled off with no love, or passion for what they were doing- Sunshine was definitely a front woman, and was the only heart in the group.

Sam stood grudgingly when they finished, clapping, his lips in a tight line- the all girls' choir (Whose name he hadn't paid attention to) may not have been competition, but Vocal Adrenaline _were_.

* * *

><p>Butterflies kicked off in his stomach as they stood backstage. Kurt was practically bouncing, and Lauren was getting into her normal pre-competition workout, with Puck watching her with a leer.<p>

"That's my girl." He said, nudging Sam with his elbow and wiggling his eyebrows.

Sam couldn't reply- he felt like he was going to be sick- and he didn't even have a solo line. Quinn was mentally prepping herself, while Brittany, Santana and Artie were quickly running through their parts.

Mercedes took his elbow gently, and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "You'll be great out there." Her breath tickled his ear, and, not for the first time, he wanted to just turn around and kiss her.

He gulped, and did turn around, taking her hand and squeezing it gently, lacing their fingers together, the action instantly calming his somersaulting stomach, and making his heart race for a completely different reason.

"You'll be wonderful." He said, and gulped again, wondering if she would mind if he...

Well, okay then. He leaned down and kissed her cheek (and he could feel the heat in them) without consulting his brain at all, but it didn't matter because he could see her pulse pounding in her neck and there was a small hitch in her breathing.

He lingered by her cheek, not wanting to move away, but knowing that the music playing meant that Finn and Rachel had started their duet.

"I'll see you out there." He murmured, and let go of her hand, crossing the backstage area, nearly knocking over some sort of prop, to take his place beside Kurt and Mike waiting to take his place on that stage.

He peeked out, staring at the crowd- the biggest crowd he'd ever perform in front of, most likely.

They filed out together as the song came to a close, their backs to the audience, who as the music stopped, stayed quiet, until a lone clap rang out, prompting the others to start cheering too.

Sam wondered what the hell had happened in order for them to stay so quiet...

But then they were turning on their heels and that now familiar rhythm was starting up on an electric guitar.

The applause this time was overwhelming, and they received a standing ovation.

Sam was sure nothing beat this rush, the pure high that he got from performing, until he found his way across the stage and pulled Mercedes into a tight embrace, feeling her arms tighten around his neck for a short moment.

* * *

><p>They met Mr Schue in the lobby and he was on Finn and Rachel like a bullet. "What were you two thinking?" He asked, and they stopped grinning like idiots and were more sheepish.<p>

"What did they do?" Tina asked.

Mr Schue looked at the pair as if to say 'you tell them'.

"We...kissed." Rachel admitted, and said admission made Finn grin, a sparkle in his eyes that Sam remembered seeing there _before_ he split up with Rachel.

Sam had no words for how potentially horrible that could be- it could have cost them a chance at winning.

He didn't need to voice his thoughts though, because the rest of the New Directions were shouting enough for him- especially Santana who was speaking in rapid Spanish, her words causing Mr Schue to flinch.

Sam didn't want to know.

Eventually they'd all calmed down, and spread out; grabbing snacks, and t-shirts, Quinn and Tina chatting excitedly about how they had this in the bag- despite the Finchel incident.

Tina broke off from that conversation when she saw a particularly nice t-shirt that she wanted and went to join Mercedes and Brittany, the latter of which was holding a t-shirt up to her body and commenting on it- though Sam couldn't hear what she said.

The blonde flounced off, leaving Mercedes and Tina gigging, and Sam rolled his eyes at Quinn, who was trying to hide a smile.

Finn and Rachel, who were busy being confronted by Jesse, turned when a commotion started in the next corridor over. "What...what's happening?" Rachel asked, and Sam crowded behind her, his team mates by his side.

Kurt bounced over, exclaiming that the top ten had been posted, his hands flailing in excitement.

"Okay, okay, what should we do?" Rachel asked, anxiously

Mr Schue put a calming hand on Kurt's back, but it didn't stop him from jumping on the balls of his feet, his hands in a makeshift gun and pressed to his grinning lips.

"Let's go look at it, together, come on...come on." Mr Schue said, leading them.

It seemed like time slowed down when Mr Schue stepped up to look, Finn asking worriedly about their placement.

"Say it, what'd we rank?"

"We...didn't." Mr Schue said, apologising for them not being in the top ten.

Sam's heart dropped, and he felt his eyes prick, his nose tingling- he never expected losing to hurt so much.

* * *

><p>The ride back to the hotel had been quiet, but there was a tension brewing, emanating from Santana's direction. Sam didn't want to be around when that volcano erupted; he knew from personal experience what Santana's temper could be like, and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.<p>

They filed into the boy's room, a few members sinking onto beds. Rachel buried her face in her hands.

Mr Schue had just shut the door, looking tired and worn, when Santana lost it.

The brunette span to face Rachel, her hair flying around her like a whirlwind, her eyes blazing. "I blame you man hands." Santana told her, her voice carefully controlled, her lips in a tight line.

Rachel opened her mouth to protest, perhaps to argue her innocence, but Santana saw the words forming, and snapped.

She launched herself at the smaller girl, shrieking in rapid Spanish. Sam reached for her, grabbing her wrist and dragging her backwards, out of arms' reach of Rachel.

"A little help here, guys." Sam gasped, the struggling brunette in his arms raking her nails down his arms harshly in an attempt to get him to let her go.

Mike rushed to his aid, taking one of Santana's wrists in his grasp, twisting it backwards, and Quinn took the taller girl's waist, locking her in an embrace.

Eventually Mr Schue interceded, ordering the spitting Latina into the opposite room, telling her to stay there and calm down. She went, but not without a fuss, and a lot of glaring at one Rachel Berry.

Brittany followed them, saying something quietly to Mr. Schue, before slipping inside the other room.

Mr. Schue told them to hang tight, and just hang out for now.

"I don't think many of us will be getting much sleep tonight, anyway." He said, rubbing his eyes, and leaving them to themselves.

Finn was comforting a crying Rachel, and Puck and Lauren were curled up together on one of the beds. Everyone else milled about, just talking to each other.

Tina, Mike and Mercedes were in a close knit triangle, talking. Mercedes had an arm around Tina, and Mike held both girls' hands tightly in his own.

Sam's eyes locked with Mercedes' for a brief second before he slipped out of the room, back down to the lounge, not noticing Mercedes excusing herself from her friend and following.

He sat down, propping open Harry Potter to where he left off- chapter 3- and trying to let the words sink in. He'd been reading the same paragraph for roughly ten minutes and nothing was sticking. He sighed and shut it, setting it on a nearby coffee table.

Sam finally noticed Mercedes, who was curled up in the chair opposite him, her dress falling over her ankles, which were now sock free, looking out at the park- the late night walkers, the stray dog that was sprawled out under a tree.

She sniffled.

"Mercy?" He asked, reaching across to take her hand, but she jerked away. Sam was stung, his heart giving a pathetic little flop as she stubbornly set her jaw and kept her eyes focused on the stars.

Sam crawled over to her, kneeling by her chair, placing a hand tentatively on her knee. She gulped, but didn't move away.

"You wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" He asked, softly.

"I want to be one of those." She said, gesturing vaguely towards the sky. "A star shining brightly. I felt so close tonight, and they had to ruin it...It was my one chance...It's not likely to happen again next year, and I just want to feel special, you know?"

She glanced at him, and her eyes widened as she realised who she was talking to. "Sorry for offloading on you like that, crazy boy. Maybe I'm just as crazy as you."

"You'll never be a star, Mercedes." He told her, and realised only after he'd said it how she could take it. She tried to stand, but he pushed he back into her seat. "No, listen. You'll never be a star because up there, it's filled with them, and down here we have plenty of them too. You're...you're the moon Mercedes, big and bright and beautiful, even when you're at you smallest you're still outshining every other star there is. You're too special and too unique to be anything less."

And hello there, king of the corny, Sam thought, regretting nothing.

Mercedes giggled, wiping the tears that had fallen from her warm brown eyes. "You're such a dork." Mercedes murmured, almost fondly, and Sam looked down, worried that she might realise he was a bit _too_ dorky...

Her hand carefully cupped his cheek tilting his face up. "I kind of like it." She admitted, voice soft.

Sam smiled up at her, and he could feel the dimple in his cheek pop, and Mercedes' thumb stroked over it, a little too close to his lips to be just friendly, and Sam was so, so tempted to just turn his head, just a little, to kiss her fingertips.

His eyes locked on hers, and her fingers trailed over the shell of his ear, along his hair line, gently, warily, as though he might tell her to stop at any moment.

He didn't want her to stop, _ever_, at this point, and he moved onto his haunches so that she had easier access, putting his face merely a few inches from hers'.

Mercedes hand stopped, cupping his cheek again.

"Mercedes," He croaked, "If you don't...If I don't move, I might end up kissing you."

Her eyes widened marginally, and her lips fell open.

He saw something flash in her eyes then, and she said, "Then don't move."

_Why did she have to say that_? Sam asked himself. Knowing that she wouldn't turn him away made it harder not to kiss her, and when she was so close it was difficult to remember why he couldn't do this, and she looked so _beautiful_...

Sam leaned up, and Mercedes smirked a little, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him, and was going to make him come get what he wanted. They were close enough for him to feel her breath on his lips, and her eyes fluttered closed, and he briefly marvelled at her the length of her eyelashes.

"Hey, Sam! Where are you?" A voice called and Sam groaned, he was so, _so_ close. He pulled away and rushed back into his own chair just as Mike turned the corner. "Hey, guys, Mr. Schue wants everyone back in their rooms."

"Okay." Sam said, "Coming Mercedes?" He asked, not looking at her.

"Yeah, thanks Mike." Was it just Sam, or was there a tinge of sarcasm in her words?

Sam stood, and followed Mike to the elevator, hearing the soft pad of Mercedes feet behind him. They stepped in and Mike hit the correct button.

The ride up was quiet, and on Sam's part, filled with tension. He could feel Mercedes' eyes on him, and he wanted to look right back, but Mike...

Mike walked ahead of them and slipped into the boy's room, where it seemed everyone, including Santana had congregated. Sam let the door close, and turned to Mercedes.

"Can we...talk about this?" He asked, anxiously.

Mercedes smiled a small smile at him. "Sure, crazy boy, sure."

"Tomorrow- we're not leaving for the airport until three- have lunch with me?" She nodded, her smile turning shy. She brushed her hand against his as she slotted her card into the keyhole, and they joined their family.

* * *

><p>Sneaking away from the group wasn't as difficult as Sam thought it was going to be, and he waited for Mercedes at the very same fountain they'd visited on their first day in New York.<p>

She'd snuck up on him, and had splashed him with water to get his attention. He dipped his own fingers into the fountain and flicked the droplets in her face; causing her to crinkle her nose.

He reached out and wiped the single drop from the end of her nose without thinking about it, and her eyes had fixated on the digit.

He pulled away quickly, and grinned sheepishly at her, rubbing at the dull flush on the back of his neck. Her smile was genuine and big, and she took his free hand in hers. "Do you mind?" She asked, and he just squeezed it in response.

"The cafe is just around the corner- it's not much, but..." He trailed off at her indignant huff and sharp glare. He gulped, "Right." He whispered, more to himself than to her.

He lead her to the cafe and they took a window table, dropping each other's hands as they sat, and grabbing their menus.

Sam studied his fiercely, and only when she cleared her throat did he dare to look up. She was frowning, and her eyes were dull. "I thought we said we were good enough friends for this to not be awkward?" She said, levelling him with her gaze.

"I..." Sam wasn't certain how to reply to that, or exactly what it meant; did she want to remain just friends; was this her way of telling him to back off? "We are." He conceded finally.

"Good." She smiled. "So, shall we do what everyone else is doing and plot Finchel's death?" She joked, and Sam laughed.

"Nah- there's always next year, right?"

They fell into a comfortable conversation after that, and when their order came, Sam insisted on paying.

"Just...while I can, okay?" He pleaded, and Mercedes smiled at him.

"Okay, Sam ."

He paid, and checked the clock behind the counter while he was at it.

He met up with Mercedes outside, and she slipped her hand into his. "We don't need to be back at the hotel for another two hours," He told her, "Walk with me?" She nodded, and they strolled around in silence for a short while.

They passed a few street players on their walk- an accordion player, a mime, and eventually a man in his late twenties with scruff on his face and messy brown hair tuning his guitar. He grinned up at them, crow's feet appearing around his eyes, dimples popping in both cheeks.

"Any requests?" He asked, and Mercedes shrugged up at Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, pulled away and leant down to whisper in his ear. He grinned toothily at him. "Nice choice." He said, and began strumming a familiar tune. Sam grinned at Mercedes and she half shrugged, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes, doing strange thing to his heart.

He took her hand, and pulled her close, spinning her, and making her giggle.

They danced through the intro, and when the man started singing quietly along, Sam pulled Mercedes close, grateful they were in New York and stranger things than two people dancing on the pavement were happening.

He hummed in her ear, and she swatted his arm lightly.

"I don't know this song." She admitted.

Sam pulled , "Most people when they can't get away/ it makes them more than a little crazy/ but I'm the one that can never stay/ I'll always have you with me/ always have you with me in this song, this song.

"I just wanna write you in a song/ put your smile on paper so you can sing along/ I just wanna bottle the sun/ keep your light a secret I can find/ when you are gone.

"I just wanna write you in a song/ put your smile on paper so you can sing along/ I just wanna bottle the sun/ keep your light a secret I can find

"When you are gone, gone, gone/ when you are gone, gone, gone/ when you are gone, gone, gone, gone

"I just wanna write you in a song/ so, so, so when you are gone, gone/ when you are gone, gone/ when you are gone, gone/ I, I just wanna write you in a song/ gone, gone, gone..."

The guitar faded away, and Mercedes sniffled, "Does that mean you're gonna leave me crazy boy?" She asked, jokingly.

He unhooked his chin from her shoulder and stared into her eyes, searchingly, earnestly.

"Not if I can help it, Mercy." He promised.

She nodded. "We can't tell anyone." She told him.

Sam didn't feel offended; he understood that the New Directions were going through enough drama right now, that they would attempt to drag their fledgling relationship into said drama, and most likely find a way to destroy it before they had a chance.

"I know." He replied, and pressed his face down into her shoulder, swaying them slightly to the new song the guitarist was playing.

She tightened her grip on him, and her breath tickled his cheek as she leaned in to kiss it.

They just stood there for a few more minutes, before mutually deciding that they had to head back.

Just before they entered the hotel Sam pulled Mercedes close to his side, "Meet me in the Lima Bean before school tomorrow?" He asked.

"Sure." She agreed, and he kissed her forehead quickly, and let her hand go, before they went in to grab their luggage.

* * *

><p>Filing onto the plane for the trip home took no time at all, yet was oddly silent, and more than a little awkward. Sam took his window seat, Mike and Tina piling in beside him, simultaneously buckling their belts and curling into each other, no words needing to be passed between the two to express their sorrow and regret; instead they took comfort in each other.<p>

Sam smiled sadly over at Kurt, who was in aisle seat in the row opposite. He just rolled his eyes, and cocked his head to his left, where his brother and his again girlfriend were basically hiding from everyone else.

Sam sighed noiselessly, and turned to watch the landscape out the window, glad for the distraction.

Eventually the plane rumbled to life, and Sam's stomach jolted briefly at the sudden movement of the aircraft, but he quickly calmed any nervousness, watching the colours blur, and feeling the slight shift as the plane left the ground.

He was eternally grateful when the intercom told them that it was safe to turn on electrical appliances. He reached for his earphones automatically, stuffing them in his ears and pressing play on his iPod, letting the music sooth him and fill the silence that seemed to permeate the three rows that the New Directions occupied.

He didn't recall falling asleep, but night was falling when he awoke, and a familiar hand was entwined a little awkwardly in his own. He turned in his seat, his legs aching from lack of movement and space, and grinned at Mercedes, who was half asleep, beside a sleeping Santana and Puck.

He squeezed her hand, and let it drop to her side so she could sleep comfortably.

"Thank you." He mouthed, causing a small, sleepy smile to grace her face.

That was good enough for him, and he fell back into his seat, wincing as his knee knocked into Mike, making the dark haired boy stir a little, and mumble something incoherent, before snuggling closer to his girlfriend.

* * *

><p>Sam held the door of the Lima Bean open, and gestured for Mercedes to go in. She did so, bowing a little mockingly at him, a sweet grin adorning her face.<p>

As the door shut behind Sam a voice called out "Oh, look who's here!"

They turned to see Kurt and Blaine sitting with their coffee. Sam's heart quickened, and a spike of guilt shot through him, despite Mercedes reassurances that not telling them was the best thing, for now.

"Hey, what're you guys doing here?" Blaine asked, a grin on his face that was too happy to be legal this early in the morning.

"Nothing." Sam replied, rocking on the balls of his feet, "Just, uh, getting a coffee."

"We ran into each other in the parking lot." Mercedes invented, smiling brightly at them, and nodding as if to emphasise her point.

_So cute_...

"We're on our way to get some sheet music, tomorrow's my audition for the summer show at Six Flags." Blaine said, crossing his fingers.

"Whereas I'm spending my summer composing 'Pip, Pip, Hooray!' the Broadway musical about Pippa Middleton." Kurt informed them, with such a serious look on his face that Sam wasn't really sure if he was joking or not- judging by the look Blaine was giving them, though, he was.

"I- I have no idea who that is, but it sounds totally awesome." Sam said, smiling at the two boys, both of which had a look about them- one Sam couldn't place.

Mercedes laughed, and playfully slapped his upper arm, lingering a little.

"Uh, we'll see you in class." Mercedes said, waving goodbye.

"Bye, guys!" Blaine practically chirped, automatically immersing himself in conversation with Kurt again- as though Sam and Mercedes didn't exist anymore; like they'd never interrupted.

Sam followed Mercedes to the line, and turned to look back at the couple, to make sure they weren't watching.

"Do you think they know?" Mercedes asked, facing him, her eyes worried.

"I don't think anybody knows." Sam reassured her, checking on Kurt and Blaine once more, a smile lighting his face when they were too preoccupied with each other to notice anything else.

They turned back to take their place in line, and Sam slipped his hand into Mercedes', entwining their fingers, and holding on tight.

(He may or may not have had a goofy grin on his face).

* * *

><p>Finn and Rachel walked into Glee late- later than Mr Schue- and Quinn ushered them in quickly, grinning.<p>

A high had taken over the entire Glee club, and no one could find it in themselves to be angry at not winning, because they still had next year, and they were all together, and somehow that was enough.

"You guys want to see what 12th place looks like?" Mr Schue asked, hoisting their trophy into the air.

Cheers rippled across the classroom, and Sam knew that next year, would (almost impossibly) be better than last.

That may have had something to do with the wonderful girl sat beside her best friend, the one whose smile lit up a room, and whose laugh was infectious, and rang above everyone else's.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I love them, I love everyone in Glee Club, and I get to spend another year with everyone I love, so...I'm good. (Brittany S. Pierce, Glee Season 2, Episode 22).<strong>_

* * *

><p>* So, when I first wrote this bit, Billionaire came on Shuffle, and I couldn't help but think: Yeah...you're going to be one member short next year Sammy...But it won't be Mr Schue...And proceeded to sob like crazy.<p>

I'm going to miss Chord so much, and even though Samcedes won't be cannon next year ('big bubba' RIB, really?), it will forever be cannon in my head and heart, and this story will continue despite this...bump (to understate things).

Also... New Cheerios? What...Give the character's you already have storylines *_CoughTinaCough_*, before you bring on new ones, please.

Still on Tumblr. I'll be posting previews of the next chapter on there. Follow if you wish: http:/ scared-like-me (dot) tumblr (dot) com

Reviews are to me what makeovers are to Kurt. 3

All my love,

HMBH.

P.S. You guise...YOU GUISE...I just realised...After this...It's all me...Everything I write now will have to come from my own brain...This frightens me. O.O


End file.

Glee, Family, Romance