4

A/N: Random science fiction idea that popped into my head today. I'm on a Sam/Kurt high, and it's not helped by pictures of Chord Overstreet wearing glasses. Lord. Feel free to read and review. I don't own Glee. Rated T. I think this will be a three part story.

Malleable

Chapter 1: If I Could Turn Back Time

SamPOV

Each morning, I woke up in my house, alone. I went for a morning walk or run, depending on my mood and the weather. I would come back to my house and do some weight lifting to keep myself in top form. Breakfast, then off to campus. I taught advanced physics at MIT. My research was groundbreaking, and I had won two Nobel Prizes in Physics for my research.

I lived a few blocks from campus, so after my morning ritual, I grabbed my briefcase and walked to my lab. I scanned my thumb into the secure locking system on the door and the door slid open. The phone at my desk was ringing, so I raced over and answered it.

"Evans here, talk to me." I said

"Dr. Evans, this is Dr. Halsted. Dean Erickson and myself need to have a meeting with you regarding your latest budget. Does 10am work for you?"

I looked at the clock. 9:36. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Alright." The line went dead.

I pulled up a webpage with the latest headlines on it. I scowled. President Anderson was undergoing a trial separation from his partner. Sleazebag. I grabbed the first glass object I could find and I threw it at the wall.

"Goddamn that son of a bitch!"

Losing control of myself, I considered smashing up the rest of my office. My eyes darted to a framed photo at my desk though. Kurt. More specifically, New Directions in New York City. Sitting on a bench in Central Park, we were sitting next to each other. I was gazing at him, and for all too brief a moment, his gaze was turned on me.

Even then, he was with Blaine. The bastard. The NYU undergrad, then NYU law student. The New York City Congressman. The Senator from New York. The President. The philanderer.

Every swear word or phrase that I could direct at Blaine, I could. Gladly. Except for one term. Coward. I kept that one for myself. It hurt a thousand times worse than any invective I could direct at him.

Kurt had wanted to go to New York when he got done with High School in Lima. He went to New York with Blaine and Rachel Berry. Away, in a new city, with only those two, he changed. His support systems weren't there for him. I went to Princeton for my undergraduate studies, and the rest of us dispersed across the country. He was alone. He became convinced that he needed to change. So he did.

For his 21st birthday, I drove up to NYC for the weekend. I had earned a weekend off, and so I went up there to surprise him. I was stunned. This wasn't the Kurt I knew. This was the Kurt I saw at Sectionals when he went to Dalton. The one who was depressed and plastered a fake smile on his face to mask his unhappiness with the world. The unhappiness we could see if we had bothered to look.

We had a brief conversation, where I could see his unhappiness. I asked if he wanted to come back to Princeton for a week, and he replied that I was too late. He knew my feelings before I knew them. I thought then that it would have been dishonorable to push, so I retreated. It was dishonorable to have not pressed the issue. He became Mr. Kurt Hummel-Anderson, I sent the happy couple a toaster.

I left my lab and headed over to the Administration building. I took the stairs up to the 3rd floor and went to the Dean's office. Her secretary announced me, and Martha Erickson strode out to greet me.

"Dr. Evans, you're on time. . . " Dean Erickson said with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Being here beats reflecting on the past in my office." I replied.

"Perhaps." she said as we walked into her office

Dr. Max Halsted was seated inside. Fifty something, and going grey, he was the chair of the physics department here at MIT. He resented me. I would resent me too, were I in his position.

"Dr. Evans." He said.

"Dr. Halsted."

Dean Erickson took charge. "Let's get down to brass tacks shall we? Dr. Evans, your latest project is 50 million over budget. We don't even know what this project is, or what it will do. Attempts to get that information from you have been met with dismissals."

"50 million what?" I asked

"Dollars." Dr. Halsted responded.

"50 million dollars? That's what we're meeting over? 50 MILLION DOLLARS? If it were 50 million Euros or pounds sterling, we'd have something to talk about. This is a waste of my time."

"It's not a waste of time Dr. Evans. You're only as good as your last stroke of brilliance." Dean Erickson stated.

"Well, then the only stroke of brilliance that you've had was hiring me. Here's what I'll do then. I'll write to one of the various corporations whose profit margins have improved vastly because of the innovations I've made, and I'll request that they donate a generous sum to MIT equivalent to the deficit I've ran in my research, with a cherry on top. Since that's probably what you've called me in here to request, I'm sure we're good. Next time, you can just text me this request and not waste my time."

Stony silence dropped down into the office. I decided to push forward.

"I could always tender my resignation. Perhaps I could forward the top 20 offers I've received this year to you Dean Erickson, and maybe you could help me pick a new place to spread my wings."

"You've made your point Dr. Evans."

"As for the project in question, it is my intention to test it this afternoon. I don't know whether or not it will work. It might change the world if it does. If it doesn't work, I'll make sure that the campus is compensated for the budgetary expenses. Are we done here?"

"Quite."

Max and I left the office.

"You know, Sam, that I'm just trying to look out for you."

"With respect, Dr. Halsted, you have no idea how to look out for me. I am more than capable of taking care of myself, thank you."

"I've said my peace."

"You have. Good day, Max."

I walked back into the lab building. Again I scanned my thumb and entered my lab space. I exhaled, and looked at the glass figure I had shattered in my anger this morning. I swept shards up, and tossed it into the trash. Fortunately, it was only a paperweight. A trinket given to me by some corporation for doing some work on efficiency for them some time in the past. Meaningless.

Opening my briefcase, I took out a flashdrive, my iPad 25 and my iPhone 26. I put the flashdrive into my computer, and opened it up. There was one program on there that took up one exabyte* of space. Thousands of hours of my life had went into this program. Years of my life.

All so I could have a conversation with my 16 year old self. So I could tell him to be brave. So that I could change my life. I had one chance. I hit enter.

The nano-generators in the lab came online. Electricity crackled in the air. It was working!

The program went into it's second phase which was the destination. I hurriedly opened up the GPS function on my iPad and scrolled to the search I had done of my old address in Lima. I entered in the data, altering the gps coordinates slightly, so as to appear at the end of the block.

The electricity crackling in the air began to swirl tightly around. The program entered it's third phase. The computer display asked for date and time. I entered in September 19, 2010 at 8:45 am. The electrical field condensed into a ball of swirling light.

The final phase was the recall phase. I entered in 9:45 am and the device to be recalled from as the serial number of the iPhone I was carrying.

"Please God, let this work." I stowed my gear into my briefcase and jumped into the ball of light.

The world went black.

*According to some calculations, the entirety of human thought can be stored on 5 exabytes.