A/N: This just popped into my head. It's sort of a Blangst-y Blam friendship (pre-slash if you want) set at Dalton before series 2.
Enjoy!
Sam was apprehensive as he walked along the majestic halls of Dalton Academy, today was the day he met his new roommate. Generally he didn't mind meeting new people but, after the asshole which was his last roommate had left at the beginning of the year to enjoy his stay in juvie after his parents attempt to turn him into a halfway decent human being by sending him to Dalton had failed, he was more than nervous about who he would get this time around.
Hopefully someone who wouldn't make fun of him like Felix had, no doubt if he hadn't ended up in prison for his 'extra-curricular activities' he would have been expelled under Daltons no-tolerance rule. Sam straightened his tie and walked into the corridor where his ground level dorm was, his dorm which had been solely his for the past 3 months.
There was a boy sitting in a wheelchair by the previously unoccupied side of the room. He had his right arm bandaged and had curly hair spilling over the right side of his face. He looked more nervous than Sam felt, even though it looked like he had attempted to hide this by creating a blank look over his face, which Sam hadn't thought was possible. He nervously wheeled himself backwards into the bed as if afraid of what Sam would do to him. The terrified look on the boy's face (even though he was Sam's age) almost broke Sam's heart. It reminded Sam of the time Stacey had fallen off her bike, except ten times worse.
"Hey, I'm Sam. I am. And I don't like green eggs and ham," Sam internally cursed himself, his attempts to break the ice had never worked before and the last thing he needed was another person to label him as a complete dork. The guy in front of him didn't need to think that everyone at Dalton was crazy when he had only been here for 5minutes. The boy was silent, as if struggling for words.
"I'm Blaine Anderson, pleased to meet you," his answer was polite and expected but it came out robotic as if he had been taught to say it.
"So what happened to your hand?" Another internal cringe, he was terrible at making first impressions.
"Nothing much, I deserved it." Blaine was staring at his hands in his lap, atop his grey Dalton uniform trousers.
"Why?" Sam's filter had obviously decided to take an early vacation but hopefully he could save the situation, despite the fact his interest was now fully piqued.
"I mean, you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," Sam sat down on his own bed, next to his Incredible Hulk poster, and pulled off his blazer and tie, throwing them onto his desk chair to fold later.
"I paid for my life choices and now I need to be fixed" His voice was, once again, like a robot and Sam wondered whether he talked like this naturally.
"I'm sure your hand will heal soon enough, if you rest it. I mean I'll push you around, if you want" Sam wasn't sure what the guy was upset about, his hand or wrist, whatever, would heal. Perhaps he meant his legs? There was less Sam could do about that but his big brother instinct was determined to do something.
"It's okay" Blaine seemed surprised and terrified at the thought of imposing upon Sam so soon into their meeting. "My wrist will heal soon enough, I mean it was bad a few months ago but it's almost done healing now". They sat in silence once more, Sam on his bed and Blaine in his chair. Sam was kinda getting really worried about the other teenager now. He seemed to be uncomfortable in his own skin. He searched around for a topic that would be less tense. His eyes fell on his posters.
"Do you like superheroes?" Blaine's head shot up, a look of hope in his eyes, but then they darkened and he fell once again into something which Sam had only seen once, on a documentary about mental illness and depression.
"They're okay, I guess". At least Blaine didn't seem to hate them like Felix had, but Sam found himself wishing that the curly haired teen would hate them. Anything other than the corpse like state the boy was sitting in, in his wheelchair.
They didn't communicate for the rest of the evening. Every time Sam asked him a question Blaine would uncomfortably and politely answer it but he never offered any conversation of his own. Even as they got ready for bed and Blaine heaved himself out of his chair, in a way that would have been painful for his wrist, onto his bed, he never offered any kind of unprompted sound. And when Sam offered him a wary "Goodnight Blaine" he didn't get one in reply. He even thought he could hear Blaine crying in the middle of the night but, before he could get up and check, the noise had been quickly muffled. Sam honestly didn't know what to make of him.
They continued this very stilted way conversation right up until the weekend, Sam working extremely hard to get the grades he wanted despite his dyslexia. He could see Blaine was working very hard too, always poring over the notes he'd missed or else staring despondently into space with a small frown on his forehead.
Sam decided that this would have to change, especially if they were going to be living together for the next 6months, and it was going to change soon. He still hadn't thought up a plan when he settled down to watch Iron Man on Friday night, having decided he was due a well-earned break.
He'd got past the bit where Tony Stark gets found in the desert when he found out he wasn't alone in watching. Blaine was staring at the screen with the same amount of devotion Sam had been, his hair pushed back so he could see the movie better from across the other side of the room.
"You can come watch too, bro," Sam could see the hesitation in his eyes, a mental battle being played out Blaine's mind, before Blaine surprised him and nodded. He wheeled closer and positioned himself in front of the screen, beside Sam's bed. It didn't look particularly comfy from where Sam was sitting; Blaine still had to crane his head from this angle to see the screen.
"Look, dude. You can sit with me, you know, there's enough space and I'll help you if you need me to." Blaine suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights and shook his head.
"I am okay, thank you," Nodding and making a quick decision Sam leant forward and tilted the screen to face Blaine, before hopping off his bed and moving his desk chair parallel to Blaine's wheelchair so they could both see the screen. It wasn't ideal but at least they could both see.
They sat there just watching and by halfway through the movie Sam could tell that Blaine had relaxed somewhat. They didn't speak and Sam was careful not to quote the movie out loud like he usually would, so he wouldn't scare Blaine off.
By the end of the movie, and past the usual stinger, which Sam was pleasantly surprised that Blaine waited for, they sat back in their seats. Sam turned to Blaine to find that, even though he looked better than Sam had ever seen him, his expression looked worried.
"What's wrong, dude?" That was all it took for Blaine's walls to break down, he started sobbing earnestly into his hands bringing one of his knees up to his chest and burying his head into it.
Sam went to comfort Blaine, placing his hand onto his shoulder, only to have him flinch away so violently he almost tipped his chair over.
"I'm not supposed to like superheroes" Blaine was hiccupping as Sam rubbed his shoulder. Sam was staring at Blaine in confusion. The boy in front of him was breaking his heart. He leant over and put his arm around his shoulders, pulling Blaine to his chest the best he could without pulling him out of his chair. He just held him there until Blaine seemed to sense where he was and pushed him away with his good hand. Blaine just sat there wiping his eyes and sniffing; he also hissed in pain and quickly lowered his leg back onto the foot rest. Both Blaine and Sam bit their lips.
"Why are you not supposed to like superheroes Blaine?" Sam just wanted to make Blaine feel safe at Dalton, like he had felt (awful roommate excluded) when he first arrived.
"Because…" Blaine seemed to wrestle with himself before seemed to give it up as a bad job.
"I'm supposed to get better. Watching films with predominately men in it isn't going to help. And the superheroes wear… gay clothes." It had been clear that Blaine was paraphrasing from someone, though Sam was glad he had seemed to clean it up a bit and not used the word 'fag'.
"You're gay, dude?" Sam was beginning to understand, he had been beaten up for being himself and now some sicko had made him think he had to be 'cured'.
"I'm getting better, I promise!" Blaine looked terrified, obviously mistaking Sam's controlled anger at Blaine's attacker and thinking it was directed at him.
"Dude, I don't care", the look of confusion on Blaine's face prompted Sam to elaborate: "Being gay isn't a disease. You love who you love, you can't help it, dude, it's part of you".
"But I have to be fixed!"
"There is nothing to fix! Besides your legs and hand, but even if they didn't mend I wouldn't care. You seem like a cool dude, you like Marvel!" Seeing that Blaine wasn't entirely convinced he continued,
"Whoever told you you were ill is wrong dude. For example, if tomorrow I wake up and fall in love with a guy, yeah it'll be a surprise cuz so far I've only liked girls, but it's still normal. You being gay, totally cool dude".
Blaine's cheeks were still stained with tears, but he finally smiled directly at Sam.
"So, how about watching the Incredible Hulk?"
"Music to my ears, dude."
"Do you like music?"
"I play guitar but I'm not too sure about playing in front of people."
"I like singing."
"Dude, you should totally join the Warblers, it's totally cool. Wes would love you."
"I'm probably terrible."
"Dude, Wes would love you anyway, he likes superheroes too."
A/N: Not too happy with the ending but my friend said it was okay, so…
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MissGracieKathy