Okay, so this is quite AU. Some of it is massively AU, like it is known and accepted that some men are able to bear children. That's right, this may mention MPREG. Probably just in passing, but be forewarned. It will not be a major part in this fic, but just know that is may be mentioned in passing. I am usually a Klaine shipper, but this little ficlet came to me in the night and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. So, Kurt never goes to Dalton to spy; therefore he never meets Blaine of the rest of his trusty Warbler troupe. But never fear! Sam is a transfer from Dalton, so it's very likely that Blaine and Co. will make an appearance. I have taken a lot of liberties with Sam. His past, his family, etc, so I have tried to make things as clear as possible :P

This was designed to be a long one-shot, but it really didn't work out that way. When I finally sat down to write it, it just got away from me!. Even though it's AU, I'm going to put a spoilers warning out there for all episodes. This is my first foray into fanfiction, so constructive criticism and any other reviews are much appreciated! :D

Disclaimer: I definitely don't own the brilliance that is Glee. That privilege belongs to the genius that is Ryan Murphy and Co.

WARNING: This is slash! That means boys loving other boys. If you don't like it, please, don't read it. Thanks! This is rated M for eventual explicit sex.

Italics- Thought

Virtual cookies if you can spot the nerdtastic references!

Okay, so Sam was having an anxiety attack. What in the world had possessed him when he told his parents he wanted to go to public school? Why would he ever want to leave the safety Dalton?

Dalton. His great friends, his amazing academic opportunities. The zero-tolerance bullying policy. Gone, because he had to get restless and want to experience the "real world", not Dalton's sheltered, idealistic representation. So long, private school.

What had really cemented Sam's decision were his parents. Self-made millionaires from the sweet state of Louisiana. They were high school sweethearts that had made their fortunes in the business world. His dad, Robert Evans, had hit it big in the engineering world. His dad had fantasized about being an artist as a child, and found a practical (and lucrative) way to make his dreams come true.

Then there was his mom. Sam wasn't ashamed to admit he was a bit of a momma's boy. Patricia Evans (nee Caldwell) was a kind and gentle woman. Her mom had risen like a small but determined star in the fashion world. While she still dreamt of creating her own line, she was currently the Creative Director for Michael Kors and lamented the fact that her son was fashion challenged. Loudly. And often.

Though they had built themselves from the ground up, Sam's parents wanted him to have every opportunity possible. As an only child, Sam knew his parents doted on him shamelessly. While being grateful, Sam couldn't shake the feeling that he was living a sheltered life. Sure, he had been all over the world, met more people and seen more places than most people ever would.

But it wasn't real.

Growing up in the circles he did, he knew that everything was a game. Everything was a carefully constructed match of chess. Nothing wasn't planned. Conversations, outfits, marriages, trips. All planned to broaden the empire and strengthen and economical hold. For the longest time, Sam refused to have friends. He didn't want to surround himself with people that only wanted his parents money or connections, whatever.

Finally, Sam had found Blaine, Wes, and David. All looking for the same thing. And now he was leaving. What. The. HELL?

Telling his friends had been hard. Telling his parents was bound to be harder. He was terrified that they would think he was being ungrateful by wanting to waste all the money they had already invested in his private education. While they hadn't paid for the upcoming year yet (he may have hacked into the family bank account to monitor the situation…), he knew all the previous years had added up. A lot. But he knew he had to say something before they paid for the new year. He girded his loins, gathered his courage (read: excuses) and chose his battlefield.

The dinner table.

Of course they had made his favorite meal. Coincidence? Not likely. This had to be some weird cosmic conspiracy to guilt him into keeping his big mouth shut. Pun most definitely intended. (Blaine said "pouty", Sam said he was crazy) He picked at his grilled lamb chops and pushed his mashed potatoes around his plate. His mom kept shooting him concerned looks. His dad did too, but in between eating, watching the game on the TV inside, trying to hide the fact he was watching the game from his wife, and attempting to seem interested in something called a "valance" (apparently, they had new ones...).

We he first told his parents his desire to transfer to public school, he was met with silence. Over dinner, sitting at their outside dinner table (Glass and wrought iron, thank you very much. Patricia Evens does not approve of your pressed wood picnic tables), Sam quickly blurted out that he wanted to leave Dalton.

Well, blurted is putting it nicely. The combination of nerves and indigestion actually caused him to scream "I DON'T WANNA GO TO DALTON ANYMORE!". This garnered him the immediate and full attention of him parents. They looked to one another in confusion, then back to Sam.

"Is somebody giving you trouble?" his mother asked. "You know you can tell us."

"No, no trouble," Sam forced out.

"…Is this about a girl?" his dad asked slyly. Patricia smiled at her husband before turning her question gaze to her son once more.

"NO!" he choked out, only causing them to smile wider. Honestly, what girls? He went to an all boy's school!

"You know, I thought you seemed pretty close to Melody last time she came around with her mother. Did you want to go to Carmel? Is that it?" his mom inquired gently.

"NO! Sheesh. No girls," Sam said. What was wrong with him? What happened to all his plans? His carefully concocted reasons? Why wouldn't his mouth work?

"Well, what about boys? Boys are okay too. We're open like that," said his dad, with a crocodile grin. His mom snorted into her white wine and looked to her husband with a conspiratorial smirk on her face.

Oh God, mouth. Fix. This. Now. Don't let this deteriorate into ANOTHER sex talk. Open! OPEN! Wait- boys?

"Uhhh, boys? W-what gave you that idea?" What? Of all the things that need to be said, you go with "boys"? At this point Sam was convinced that there was someone living inside him with a vendetta against him. And that could make his mouth move.

His mother sighed. Okay, they were going there. "Honey," she began. "Honey, you don't need to get defensive about it. We just want to let you know, that whoever you choose to be with, we're okay with it. And we may have found some… things," His mom finished with a little laugh.

Things? THINGS? Sam's mind spiraled out of control. Oh sweet Star Wars, what did they find? At this point, Sam was hesitant to cop to anything, lest he mention something they hadn't found.

Suddenly, his dad roared with laughter, startling Sam out of his reverie. He looked away from his formerly delicious lamb and to his parents and saw his them trying (and failing) to hold in their amusement.

"For the love of God, Sammy, relax!" his dad said through his laughter. "And stop making that noise!"

Noise? What noise? Sam then became aware of this dull whine filling the air. It sounded like their dog , R2 (don't hate, Star Wars rocks…) was in distress. Wait- is that me? Sam thought. He cleared his throat.

Sure enough, the low whine ceased. Sam flushed an attractive red. His mom quieted her giggles and looked fondly upon her son. He was such a good looking boy. She looked to Robert and sighed. They had made a one helluva kid. Where Robert was tall, blond, and sturdy, she was a delicate brunette. While Sam favored his father, he had her green-hazel eyes and full lips. Gorgeous she thought. He musings were cut short when Sam finally managed to sputter out a response to his original question.

"It's not a girl. And it's not a boy," he began. "It's has nothing to do with me being sweet on anyone. I just…" he trailed off, trying to gather his courage once more.

"Take your time, son. We're listening," his dad said encouragingly.

Sam smiled weakly at his dad. He was so lucky. He knew this conversation wouldn't have gone over half as well with the majority of his classmates parents.

"Well, it's just… it's not real. Dalton. Don't get me wrong! It's been great and I am so grateful for the opportunity to be there. I love the classes, and I made some really great friends, but it isn't the real world. There are so many fake smiles and a constant undercurrent of tension between everyone. It is great to not have to worry about being bullied and all… but I just can't help but feel like it's not really getting me ready for what life will be like in college. Or even after that…" Sam trailed off, collecting his thoughts. He braved a glance at his parents. They were both quiet and looking at him with expectant faces. His mom opened her mouth to speak.

"Wait- just let me finish," he begged. She nodded and gestured for him to continue. "I know that these next two years will be all about applying to college, but I already have really good SAT and ACT scores, and I am confident that I can make it into a good school, regardless of where I apply from. Leaving behind Blaine and Wes and David is going to suck, like, big time, but I feel like I have to do this. Do- do you understand?" Sam finished and looked imploringly at his parents. Please, he thought please let them not be mad.

To his great surprise, his parents both smiled at him like they had when he'd gotten an A on that molto defficile Italian exam. …What?

"Oh, Sam," his mom said in a thick voice, unshed tears in her eyes. "We're so proud of you." She reached across the table and held his hand within her own.

Proud? They were proud? His confusion must have showed on his face. His father reached across the table and covered their already joined hands with his own.

"You want to do this for exactly the right reasons. You've reached the point where you know Dalton can't really help you. Your mother and I debated what kind of school to enroll you in until there were only a few weeks left before you were due to start kindergarten. Heck! Your mother almost had me convinced to home school you!" he said with a chuckle.

"Mom!" Sam said, aghast. Patricia just shrugged her shoulders and flushed prettily.

"Anyway, we put you in private school because we thought it would be easier. But you're right, it isn't the real world. And we are so happy that you are such a mature young man that you can see that for yourself," finished his father.

"So… does this mean that you'll let me go to McKinley?" Sam asked hesitantly. He had chosen McKinley after much deliberation. Carmel was much too like Dalton for his tastes. A public school only in name. Besides, after his disastrous fling with Jesse St. James, he feared for his life. If they were all like him, he would be in some serious trouble. Curse Blaine and his incessant matchmaking! I'm surprised he didn't put me off guys for life!

While, admittedly, he didn't know as much about McKinley, they did have a football team and they had just gotten an awesome coach, and that was enough for him. It was public, it was within reasonable driving distance, and yeah, okay, it did have girls. But, news flash, boys were great too! If his parents didn't go for this, he was stuck at Dalton because he sure as hell wasn't going to Carmel.

His parents were talking quietly to one another, voices so hushed Sam couldn't hear what they were saying no matter how hard he tried to eavesdrop like the little school girl he felt like. His mom was biting her lip and gesturing in a way he felt didn't bode well for his case, but his father was speaking calmly and appeared to be reasoning with her. Oh, please please please.

Sam was now praying to any and all deities that may be listening. Someone, just, anyone, please don't make me go back to uniform hell! I'll never put lemon juice in my hair again! WAIT! That's a lie. Ummm, how about I never hide the music from the Warblers again, even though Wes turns awesome colors when he's flustered? What about that? During his frantic pleas, his parents seemed to have come to a conclusion. Robert cleared his throat, capturing the attention of his panicking son.

"Well, while we're not crazy about the idea of you going to McKinley, we trust your judgment. We just want you to talk to us, let us know how things are going. If at any point you want to go back to Dalton, just say the words and you're there," his father said.

"Wait, what? Just like that?" Sam asked, bewildered. "Not that I am complaining, but I have been freaking of for weeks, trying to figure out the best way to say this. I mean, I made lists! I did research! You guys… you're really okay with it? Or are you trying some weird reverse psychology on me?" This wouldn't be the first time Sam's dad had messed with him like this. His father was a giant kid, the eternal prankster. Very rarely was Sam ever able to pull one over on his father. He looked to his mother for confirmation.

"Sam, sugar, we aren't trying to trick you. We're sorry that you spent all this time worrying yourself sick over something that was solved so easily. But, please baby, talk to us sooner next time, we might be able to save you a lot of suffering. And yes, while I have some reservations about McKinley, your father and I trust you to speak if something isn't right. We know that things are going to be so, so different than Dalton, so we just want you to know you can come to us with anything you have a hard time adjusting to, And we won't make fun of you. Right, Robert?" Patricia looked at her husband in a vaguely menacing way.

"Oh, oh yes. No taunting at all, Sammy, none," Sam heard the words, but he didn't trust the devilish glint in his father's eyes. "So, now, about those boys…"

Oh God, this isn't happening. This is not how I imagined this going… Sam thought anxiously.

"Robert!" his mother admonished.

"What?" he exclaimed, palms facing up and trying to look innocent.

"Ignore your father, Samuel. You tell us when you're ready," his mom soothed.

Man up, Sammy. Just get it out there. This can't be any more embarrassing than what they found. He thought. And then, Oh, God! What did they find? He was a teenage boy, he had needs! Or …wants. Urges? Whatever, he was a boy and her had them, as well as the things needs to help relieve said urges. But he thought he had been so clever and secretive when hiding them. No under the mattress nudie mags or nightstand lotion for this guy. And he was pretty sure he had password protected his computer within an inch of its little techno life. This was going to haunt him, he was sure of it.

"No, it's okay. Uhhh-uh," And, of course, his voice chose now to crack. Excellent. What was Blaine always saying? Courage. "I guess you guys already know, or suspect, so there's no point hiding. Um, I'm pretty sure I might be , really, really sure. Positive, even," Sam rambled on, anxiety getting the better of him.

"Honey!" his mom interrupted with a giggle. "It's okay. Relax. We told you, we don't mind. As long as you are happy."

Sam sighed in relief. But still, the curiosity was killing him. He had to ask. "That's- really, that's great. Like, such a super relief. Blaine and Wes and David all told me I was being an idiot when I told them I was afraid to tell you. But… what did you find?" Sam asked, tugging on the ends of his hair in frustration and anxiety.

His parents eyed each other in amusement. Not good, NOT GOOD! His mind tried to imagine every scenario where his parents could have walked in on him, every item is his small wank bank that could have been misplaced or discovered. He was drawing one massive blank. It's not the Swimsuit Edition of SI, that's chicks. Every straight/bi guy has one of those… What is it?

Finally, his mom spoke up. This was it.

"Sweetheart, how do I put this delicately…" his mom trailed off thoughtfully. She steepled her fingers in front of her, chewing on her lip and searching for the words.

"Oh for Heaven's sake, woman!" Robert exclaimed. "Son, we heard you fantasizing about that Jake guy! The blue one, from that movie you love so much. And you left up your Google image for shirtless rugby players on your computer and your mother saw it when she checked on you before she turns in for the night, like she does every night."

Sam was pretty sure his face was permanently stained red. They were going to have to invent a new color just to classify this level of crimson coloring. Being the new kid at school was going to be hell since he was pretty sure he was a living, breathing, tomato. The Avatar fantasy, go figure. Sam had been so sure he was alone on his side of the house. Damn his mom and her ballet feet! It should be illegal to tread so softly.

For a while, the family just sat in silence, each looking at the other expectantly. It was Sam that finally broke the silence. "So…" he began. "I guess I should say thanks. Thanks for being, like, super awesome and understanding. I'm really happy you guys are okay with me going to public school. And, you know, liking guys too. That's like, really… just, awesome." Sam knew he sounded like a broken record, but he felt like his brains had melted out of his head from relief.

"Oh, Sammy. You're welcome, sweetheart. But you should know that you never have to thank us for understanding and accepting you. That's our job, baby," Patricia said as she sniffled. She looked to Robert for confirmation. He smiled lovingly at his only son.

"We love you, Sam. Never forget that," he stated seriously.

Sam held back some tears of his own. Suddenly, he was hit with a wave of overwhelming exhaustion. He didn't think this evening would turn out like this. This good. This embarrassing. This…comforting. He knew his parents rocked. He just never knew how much, until tonight.

"Um, can I be excused?" Sam asked. "I'm... I'm just really tired… I've been so stressed about this." Sam body was filled with this bone deep weariness he had never known. All he wanted to do was go to his room and sleep until noon tomorrow. Luckily, it was Friday, so he could get his wish.

"Of course, darling. Go lay down, I'll bring you some tea later," cooed his mother. "Don't worry about your dishes, I'll get them."

Sam got up from the table and pushed in his chair (his mama done raised him right, mmkay?). He bussed his mom on the cheek and gave his dad a quick squeeze before trudging inside. As Sam climbed the stairs, he heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn't being disowned for liking guys. He wasn't grounded forever for suggesting how to continue his high school education. His parents still loved him.

Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. Sam felt like he could never say those words enough. Reaching the landing, he let out a jaw cracking yawn. Damn emotions. Who knew telling the truth could be so tiring?

After a trek down the hallway, he finally came to his room. He pushed open the door decorated with various movies, TV, and comic book art and surveyed his dimly lit room. His eyes settled on his computer and the screen emitting a soft blue glow. Mutinous bastard! Why do you always freeze and never sleep? The Avatar screensaver seemed to mock him. He flicked the switch on the surge protector without shutting the computer down properly. Ha! he thought.

He wasn't upset his parents knew, just embarrassed how they figured it out. Avatar fantasies? His dirty little rugby secret? So much for Blaine's great advice. Speaking of Blaine…

Sam searched his darkened room with his for the shape of his iPhone. He didn't need to search for long. As if by his own will, his cell phone lit up and the sounds of the Super Mario theme song started coming from underneath his sheets. Sam hustled to reach his phone in time for the call, but his Xbox 's cords seemed to reach out and wrap around his ankles, preventing movement. After wrestling with his Xbox Devil's Snare, he finally got to his phone.

5 missed calls

8 text messages

Well. Wasn't he the popular boy? He never should have told Blaine and Co. he was going to tell his parents about McKinley tonight. I'm really going to miss their mother henning… Sam thought with a frown. He figured he wouldn't get any rest until he called them and filled them in on the evening's happenings.

He threw himself on his bed with a groan. He pressed his face into the pillow and took a fortifying breath. He shimmied out of his jeans and peeled off his ratty Pokémon shirt (Pikachu is amazing and you know it!). Sam dials Blaine's number in hopes that Wes and David are with him. He really only wants to have this conversation one more time, well, not really at all, but you get the point.

Blaine picked up on the second ring. "Hullo? Sam?"

"Hey," Sam said. Not his most eloquent opening, but what can he say? Coming out and transferring schools is hard work. "Wes and David there, by any chance?"

"Yeah, hang on. Lemme put it on speaker," Sam could hear Blaine fumbling with his phone on the other end. "Can you hear us?"

"Yeah. So… what's up?" Sam knew he was being willfully obtuse, but he was just so tired.

"Don't 'what's up" us Samuel Jordan Evans! Are we going to be seeing your ugly mug come fall semester or are you leaving us for girlier pastures?" Ah Wes, so tactful. There was an audible slap and what may have been David hissing "Behave!" before Blaine became impatient.

"Sam!"

"Alright! I talked to them. They were surprisingly accepting. So no, Wes, I won't be at Dalton come fall. I'll be at McKinley. I'm… I'm just really beat. I don't really wanna talk about this right now. Can I just give you guys a call tomorrow? Sorry…" Sam trailed off. He felt terrible for blowing off his friends, especially when he would be leaving them.

"Hey, now worries," David this time. "We understand. Sleep on it and call us when you wake up, blondie."

"We should meet up. Coffee at The Grind?" suggested Blaine. The Daily Grind was their preferred caffeine dealer, and oh boy, would he need a hit.

"Absolutely. You guys rock," Sam said in relief.

"We know." That Wes.

"G'night, guys!" Sam said. He was met with a round of bedtime wishes before hanging up the phone and plugging it in to charge overnight. After setting it to vibrate, he breathed in deeply and stretched like a cat. He abruptly relaxed and nuzzled into his plush, queen-sized mattress. His phone buzzed next to his head. A text from Blaine.

Tomorrow we're going shopping.

Sam loved the mall as much as the next guy, but what? How did that make sense? He simply replied with a ? and waited for a response. Not even a minute later he got a response.

Dude, you're going to public school. No more uniforms! :D

Oh, shit.

So, that's it folks! I know this chapter is a bit slow, but I needed to set up Sam's family life, etc. I prefer a slow build to relationships, so anyone who likes this is in for a bit of a ride :P

Reviews are appreciated and loved!