Ten seconds exactly had passed since Sam's heart had stopped. It seemed as if days had passed by though, and he felt that he would die soon without any air. He panicked how was he supposed to breath with no air? But if his source of air had stopped, while, his secret source, how could he breath? He had to fix it. Quickly, the blonde haired boy pulled off his helmet. Time seemed to have slowed down. Running in his heavy pads across the field, Sam quickly came to a stop in his cleats in front of the prone figure on the ground.

His air.

Kneeling quickly, Sam reached for the body, pulled back, fluttered his hands a bit over the figure, and then seemed to panic some more. After a moment, he realized that it would probably be okay to breath, and took a gasping breath, yelling as soon as he had air, "KURT!" and then he seemed to be unable to breath again. Time sped up, and suddenly other figures piled around him.

Sam was panicking for real now. Kurt was such a slight boy, he didn't have fine pictorial muscles like Sam's. And that other boy had tackled him really hard. It wasn't even supposed to be real. It had just been a practice game, played with members of their own team. Suddenly, Sam swivelled his head up to glare angrily at the offending member. The team mate receiving the glare stepped back a bit, shocked by the hard glare. Of course he shouldn't have been.

Karosfky had every right to tackle Kurt. It was football. Football usually meant tackling. It just had no need to be so very hard. Sam supposed that it was his fault. It was probably payback for Sam tackling the big guy in the locker room the other day. So basically, this was Sam's fault. Fearfully, he looked away from Karosfky back at Kurt's small, and delicious body lying there. He leaned over Kurt's body.

The other boy was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed, but still managing to look sorta pale and chic. His lips were slightly parted, and his eyes were fluttering. A short moan seemed to escape his lips as his eyes fluttered. Sam stared down, and realized that the other boy wasn't dead. A huge grin broke out over his face, and he looked up satisfied at his other team mates.

Proudly, as if he himself had saved Kurt's life, he announced to the team, "Kurt Hummel is alive!" the only one who noticeably looked relieved to hear it, was Kurt's own brother, Finn Hudson. Unbeknownst to Sam, the other boy had arrived on Kurt's other side. He had a crease between his brows that was slowly disappearing. Sam smiled hugely at him, and was about to speak, when he was roughly pushed aside.

"IS MY BOY KURT ALRIGHT?"

Puck had been the offender for that one, but Sam was please to hear Puck say, 'my boy'. It seemed that he really did care about his fellow glee clubbers, no matter how much he denied it. Sam was about to move, but was roughly pushed aside again, by one Coach Beiste, so that he was no longer in the circle surrounding Kurt's body. Desperation raged through him, and a sudden fear. He positioned himself at Kurt's feet, and felt instantly better. He could feel Kurt's heat radiating from off his body, and it was very comforting.

"Looks like a head injury, and an ankle sprain." Coach Beiste was awesome even if she was a bit ugly. Sam felt a bit ashamed for thinking that, but he tried to be an honest guy, for most things. But Sam did admire her. She was a powerful lady, if not a bit frightening. Sam reserved a special smile for her. She was a favourite teacher. And usually she gave a bit of a smirk back.

Coach expertly opened the first aid kit she had brought onto the field, and bandaged up Kurt's ankle, evoking a slight whimper, making Sam shudder with a mixed emotion of delight and fear for Kurt. That whimper was delicious. After finishing with the ankle, she went to check his head, but mumbled something like, "better not touch it…" and then she sat back, proud and finished. Her face smiled in satisfaction, and Sam's heart grew warm. She was such a sweet lady.

Looking around her, Coach glanced at Finn, and commanded, "Take your brother to the infirmary Hudson." Almost immediately Sam grew frightened. If they took Kurt away he wouldn't be able to breath again, so very fast, he said, "But Coach, Finn is quarter back, I'll take him." And before anyone could say anything, Sam quickly scooped Kurt up onto his back, getting Puck to help him, and jogged off.

He jogged until he turned a corner, and then slowed down, his heart fluttering irregularly like a warbler. It was a certain type of small bird. But Sam had always liked the word Warbler so he remembered it. He was suddenly very aware of the weight on his back. Kurt's cheek was resting on his shoulder, and his warm breath hit his neck, making Sam shudder. Kurt's arms were around his neck, his hands holding each other, even in his sleep so that his elbows stood out straight.

It felt like he was in a Kurt cage. The best kind of cage. Sam's arms were holding Kurt's legs just under his knees. Kneepits? Whatever. But the best part was feeling Kurt against his back. It made him feel warm. And it was wonderful. He wanted to give Kurt piggy backs all day, every day from now on. Hurrying on, he began to think about what he might have done if Kurt had died. Thrown himself into the grave? Written a long speech about it?

He would probably have sung "Hurt" by Christina Aguilera, which would anger Kurt. It was probably more Kurt's range. Suddenly, Sam was pulled from his thoughts by Kurt mumbling something into his ear. "….mmm…..sanm….hard….." Sam stopped, a blush creeping across his face. Was he imagining things or did Kurt just say…..no…he couldn't have had. After a moment, Sam began repeating the name Quinn in his head. He had a girlfriend.

But did he really want one? When he had come to McKinley, he had decided to make sure to not move towards any gay tendencies. This was a new start. Bullying had already been bad at the public school he went to before the private, and then almost worse at the private school. He didn't need that here. Ignoring what he thought he might have heard, he kept on, entering the school now.

He brought Kurt into the infirmary, with no sign of the teacher being there. He was loath to leave Kurt. Instead he laid him down carefully on one of the beds by backing up and bending over backwards to let him down gently. There he was met with a problem. Kurt's hands were locked around his neck, and now he was bent over rather awkwardly. He really needed to start thinking things through properly.

Carefully, once he was sure that Kurt was on the bed, and with much pain, he pulled his head through the loop made by Kurt's bonyish arms. Which led to his arms falling to land beside him, and he turned to his right side, whimpered loudly and then rolled onto hid left side. He must have the head injury on his right side then. Sam knelt down so that only his eyes could be seen if one were looking at the bed flat out. And glared at the injury. As if he were still glaring at Karosfky.

That Asshole.

Slowly rising, Sam once again knelt over Kurt, looking hungrily at his lithe figure. It was nice to finally get to enjoy his body, taking all the time he needed without interruption. God he was gorgeous. He bent down further, studying his lovely, if a little messed haircut. It was super cute all messed like that though. Carefully, he brushed his lips against Kurt's ear, a tingle spreading throughout his body. He was pulling back, when he heard a tapping on the ground, and guiltily stood up all the way just as the school nurse entered.

Noticing the injured boy on the bed, the football practice outfits, and Kurt's sleeping face, she made Kurt wake up, gave him a Tylenol, called his parents, and then told Sam he could go. That familiar panic entered him again, but it quickly died. Kurt was not going to leave him yet. He was alive, and he had to get back to practice. Taking one last longing glance back at the sleeping smiling Kurt, Sam hurried back to the field, a slight smile playing on his lips as he felt where Kurt's breath still warmed him, like a phantom pain.