A/N: I obviously don't own Glee. I couldn't get Sam out of my head after watching The Quarterback. I felt like he deserved a little more TLC.
When his phone rings, he's sitting in a coffee shop alone, pretending to do homework. Really, what he's doing is missing Brittany, and today is one of those days when he doesn't want to find someone else to distract him. He just wants to miss her and be alone, so when Artie calls him, he almost doesn't answer. But Artie doesn't usually call, so Sam answers the phone and then is left wishing he hadn't. He's never heard Artie's voice sound that way before, and he doesn't know what to think.
He listens numbly and then he hangs up without saying goodbye. He's kind of aware of the fact that he's staring at the wall, but he's not really seeing it. He's remembering - remembering when Finn first asked him to join New Directions, remembering the last two years, two years of a friendship he'd never thought he'd find when his parents first told him they were moving to Lima. An hour passes without his even realizing that he's been staring at the wall this whole time. He thinks, fleetingly, that he should be trying to get in touch with the others, to see how everyone else is doing, where everyone else is, but honestly, he can't. He has nothing to say. He just wants to be alone.
The wake and funeral are more than he can bear, so he tries not to. He goes with Blaine and Artie and Tina, and the others meet them there, but even though they all sit together, everything is a fog to him. He finds himself staring off into the distance, and even when everyone else is falling apart around him, he can't bring himself to offer any comfort. He knows if he tries, then he'll be the one in need of it, and he can't do that to the rest of them. He's also - if he's completely honest with himself - afraid of it. If he gives into the reality of all of this, then he thinks he might drown in all the despair, and he doesn't know if he'd be capable of pulling himself back up to the surface. The others don't seem to be able to make this decision - they're all a complete and total mess. Well, except for Puck. Puck is like him; he sees that. He's also afraid to let anyone else get too close, and it's the only thing that's understandable to him right now. So he holds himself slightly apart from the rest of them because it's the only way he can think of to maintain control.
He's still holding onto that hard-fought control when Mr. Shue comes up with the idea of having all of the alumni come back for a New Directions Memorial Week. For a moment, he feels a pinch of real emotion, and it's fear. He's been doing all right, holding onto this numbness, but he knows that if there's anything that could destroy that, it's the thought of having all of his old friends back in their old familiar environment because, well, it won't be all of his old friends. Finn's absence won't be more obvious than it will be when everyone else is there, and he isn't. But he tries not to think about it. He - he can't think about it.
They have to find a song, and he will never admit to anyone how relieved he is when Artie suggests that they sing together. He knows that he wouldn't stand a chance of getting through a song on his own, and he is also glad that Brittany isn't there when they start singing. As much as he wishes she could've also come back for this, having her at the funeral made it hard enough for him to stay in that necessary fog, and he knows that having her watch him sing like this would be his undoing. It's hard enough - harder than anything else has been yet. Even as he strums his guitar, he feels like he's choking, and he stares down the whole time, hoping that if he blinks quickly, the tears that are suddenly stinging his eyes won't fall. He only just makes it, and the lump in his throat when the song is over threatens to choke him. He bolts from the auditorium before anyone can say a word to him.
He figures he'll be ok, though, because he somehow made it through their song. He hadn't counted on how hard it would be to hear Puck sing his. And he had to pick Springsteen? Everything about this seems calculated to make him break. The only thing that somewhat helps is that Puck is refusing to make eye contact with any of them (even though it couldn't be clearer who he is seeing as his eyes burn holes in that achingly empty seat), but then Sam hears Mike's shuddering breathing next to him, and before he even realizes what he's doing, he's slung an arm across his shoulders, and Mike's arm is around him. Sam finds himself biting down on his lip so hard that he's afraid he's going to make himself bleed, but part of him thinks that he would welcome physical pain right now. It's infinitely preferable to this.
Somehow, though, Puck finishes singing, and he thinks maybe everyone will leave and go back to their lives, and he'll have gotten through this week intact. But he hadn't counted on Rachel. He didn't think he'd have to see her like this, but now she's here, and he realizes that she intends to sing or at least to try, and he deliberately seats himself all the way in the back of the room. He realizes he's shaking slightly, but the only person back there with him is Santana, and he knows she's just as terrified of letting herself feel all of this as he is. And maybe she's the only one he can stand to have this close to him right now.
Rachel doesn't even need to sing for him to feel the tremors start to course through him. She's just talking, but everything she's saying makes the lump in his throat swell, and he tries to take deep breaths, but then her voice cracks, and the tears start running down her cheeks. He realizes he's watching her through suddenly blurry eyes, and he closes them, thinking that if he doesn't look at her, he might still be able to do this. He knows pretty immediately, though, that he's wrong. He's shaking harder and harder, and then, for some reason, he opens his eyes because he feels someone watching him. It's Santana, and there's complete understanding in her eyes. And he doesn't know how it happens, but suddenly he's buried his face in her arms, and he's shaking with sobs. It hurts so much, but he's proud of himself for keeping quiet. It's the only control he still has.