AN: These are my thoughts on what could have happened after Sam left the choir room in „Heart". The events of the rest of the episode are ignored in this and also, Mercedes has not yet broken up with Shane. Sam is living in a Motel instead of Finn and Kurt`s place as stated in "The Spanish Teacher". So it is AU, maybe.
!Warning: There is a serious self-harm and bulimia trigger warning! Do not read if it will make you hurt yourself! !
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and don`t make any money with this story.
Boys don`t cry.
Right now, Sam Evans didn`t give a shit. First off, Mercedes interpreting Whitney was just too beautiful to keep a dry eye and secondly, she was breaking his heart right now. Again.
After Cedes finished belting out the last note, Sam stood and left. Nobody seemed to neither care nor try to follow him.
He walked to the motel through the chilly February-weather what kind of helped him to cool down himself. On the other hand it was very uncomfortable to feel the tears freeze on his skin. Still, he was happy not having to drive a car in his current condition, with blurry vision and shaky hands.
Sam barely managed to fumble the key out of his pocket because his fingers didn`t seem to properly respond to his mind. Again, he was thankful his parents let him live alone. Once inside, he tossed his bag away and went straight to the bathroom.
"You will always love me. Yet you didn`t chose me, you chose him… What is it that I don`t have, but he can give you? What?" he shouted at his image in the mirror. Opening the cabinet, he found his razor and the bag of refill-blades.
Although knowing that this was no solution and that he really shouldn`t do this, he grabbed whatever blade looked like the sharpest and was going to close the cabinet again when his glance fell on the bottle of self-tanning lotion. Angry, he slammed the door shut. He wrenched his shirt over his head and the jeans of his legs, not caring if he ripped them or hurt himself.
Sam looked down at his torso. Skin was stretching over strong muscles. White skin. He wasn`t pale, but only as brown as a boy born and raised in the four sun-hours-a-day states Tennessee and Kentucky could get. Sam thought at the endless hours of self-tanning, using three times the dose that was recommended.
"That didn`t work out so well, did it, Evans?" he asked his reflection, spotting the red blotches on his chest. When he saw them the day after he had tried tanning for the first time, he figured it was an allergy, which still didn`t stop him from doing the process again the next day. Now, a week later, he wasn`t any browner – but his skin was covered with red marks from the heavy allergic reaction.
"Am I not dark enough for you, Mercedes?" Sam shouted in the mirror which naturally didn`t answer him. He let the blade hover close to the skin on his left arm, thinking a minute. No, the risk of discovery is too high. He moved to his torso, from time to time scratching the skin lightly with the sharp metal. On his abs, he stopped. You work out in the gym shirtless way too often… Can`t risk it. He eventually came to a stop again when he had reached his upper legs. No-one will see in the gym, no-one will see it in the summer, no-one will ever notice. He lowered the blade and made a straight cut from left to right over his leg, only a hand`s width under the end of his boxers.
Tears shoot to his eyes; he drew in breath sharply at the pain. It hurt a lot, but his heart hurt more right now. As he curiously watched the blood collect at both ends of the cut and eventually run down the sides of his legs in small drops, leaving a bright red trail on his white skin, Sam decided he needed more.
"Did you choose him because I am so dyslexic I can`t even spell the word, Mercedes?" Another cut, not even a quarter of an inch below the first one. Sam was not able to keep the slash straight this time, because the pain was coming faster and his hand was trembling, so the right-side end was crooked.
He had tried to get his dyslexia under control, tried every training method known to man, but none had helped. Sam didn`t have the money for private lessons, but he wanted to get some so badly. He had thought about stealing in the super market to save money, but had then decided to rather not eat anything at all.
Two days after, he had rushed into the shop right after school, bought whatever he could grab, practically ran home and devoured everything, parts of it raw, frozen or half-cooked. Maybe Cedes would like him better if he would gain a couple of pounds? Obviously she liked curvy man. Sam forced himself to eat unhealthy things for a week; he shoved candy, soda, fat meals and vegetable-free stuff into himself. Usually, at the most ten minutes later, he would find himself in the bathroom, hugging the toilet and shoving a finger down his throat. He remembered his perfect body and how much effort it was to get this appearance and just couldn`t bring himself to look like a dumpling.
"Am I too skinny for you, Mercedes?" he shouted weakly and cut a third line into his thigh. His hands were too shaky to make it a straight line; it was more of a wavy one. He watched the red drop of blood flow down his leg with puffy eyes, but wasn`t even aware of the ticklish feeling if left. As the drop grew closer to the floor, if encircled his ankle and then sunk into the black carpet, making a red stain there.
Black and red. Another thought occurred to Sam.
"Do you like him more because I don`t have a letter jacket, Mercedes?" He had tried on that, he really had. It wasn`t his fault that the only available team was also probably the least cool one. He cut another time, deeper now and the pain took over him. His eyes, which had already dried out in the meantime, were now flooding again and the tears streamed down his cheeks. He wiped over his face, not thinking about which hand he used and therefore smearing blood in his face. When his fingers met his mouth, he paused for a second and then turned his eyes to the mirror. For the first time in his life, he watched his mouth closely.
"Is my mouth too big for you, Mercedes?" he asked and felt a sting of disgust and rage when he said "too" or "is" or "you" or "…ce…": His mouth really is huge. Knowing if he would go through with the idea that had just come to his mind, this would be taken to a whole new level, he watched himself direct the blade to the left corner of his lip and settling it on the soft skin. He tasted the iron of his own blood and felt the cold of the metal, before he applied pressure and the razor sunk into his lip like a knife does into butter.
There was pain, a lot of pain. Sam screamed and his legs couldn`t handle it anymore. He sunk to the floor, leaving blood stains on the sink. He curled up in a ball, trying to make to sharp pain in his mouth go away and regretting what he had done. Sam started crying again and as the tears fell onto the open skin of his thigh, he hissed sharply, needing pain he could control to get his mind off the other pain.
"Did you choose him because I like Avatar and cartoons, Mercedes?"
Another cut in the thigh.
"Am I too much of a dork for you, Mercedes?"
Cut.
"Is he better than me because I like to imitate people, Mercedes?"
Cut.
Seven lines, the first three shallow and steady, the last four deep und crooked adorned his upper leg and one was in his lip. The high amount of lost blood and the thrown-up food of the last week paid their tribute – combined with the allergic reaction. Sam`s body wasn`t playing along anymore.
"I don`t care if you choose him, Cedes, he is better than me anyway. But you should know that I will always love you." With that, he fainted.
"Sam? Sam, are you home?"
Through the bathroom door, a figure was visible. Lying on the floor, blonde hair, the carpet stained red.
"Sam!"
Please don`t let this be happening.
Please don`t let him be dead.
