I do not own Glee. They rightfully belong to Ryan Murphy. I only own this idea.
"Get out, you worthless piece of space!", shouted Charlie Evans as he roughly threw his son out the front door of their small house. Sam stumbled on the steps, his legs still weak from the former 'play time' as Charlie called it. "You ever show your face around here again and mark my words, boy! You won't see tomorrow!", he hollered as Sam tore off down the street. He didn't fully understand what just happened; it was still swirling around in his head. Flashbacks would show behind his eyelids every time he blinked or closed them to take a deeper breath. He could still feel his Father's hands on his thighs as he spread his legs; his lips on his neck and anywhere he could reach. The deep smell of alcohol on his breath was still on his mind and in his senses.
Sam looked up at the dark sky as he tried to think of a place where he could maybe stay. Puck's? No, he's probably out with Santana. Kurt and Finn? No, they have enough to deal with since their parents are married now. I don't want to intrude on anybody's space, looks like I'll just find a doorway for tonight. Straighten everything out tomorrow. He pulled his jacket tighter around his body and walked further into the small town, shivering when the wind blew straight through him to his core. Smells like rain, I guess I need to find that doorway fast. As soon as he finished his thought he felt a small droplet of water hit face, Sam instantly started to jog until he found a small shop with a slightly deep doorway. He sighed with relief and sat down as far back as he could, watching in disbelief as the rain went from one small droplet to a complete downpour. This is going to be a rough night.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
With a long stretch and a rub of his eyes with his fists, Sam stood up and surveyed his surroundings. Confusion and panic filled his eyes as he didn't recognize where he was, the events of last night swirling around in his head. I got kicked out. Holy hell, I got kicked out. His hands clenched into fists as he moved out of the way to let a few people into the building door that he seemed to be blocking. Sam made a move to look down at the watch on his wrist, realizing that it was no longer there. Great, somebody rolled me last night. Might as well get to school, I'm probably late. With a small shoulder shrug he walked off down the road in direction of the school. By the time he arrived, it seemed as though nobody was even there; it looked like only teachers were there. His eyes lit up when he recognized Coach Beiste's car sitting in the lot. At least the locker room will be open so I can shower quickly.
"What are you doing here so early, pumpkin? You look exhausted.", asked Coach Beiste as she opened up the locker room. With a small click all the lights turned on, they buzzed lowly as electricity surged into them. "The bathroom was packed this morning, so I thought I could come here and freshen up before anybody else showed up.", said Sam as he followed her into the locker room. Coach Beiste looked him up and down questioningly, and he shrank down into himself with the memories of last night still fresh. Sam was desperate for a shower; it was a way for him to get clean of his Father. "Be my guest, I won't stop you. I'm just going to be working out the new plays for this season.", she said as she walked into the small office, with a desk covered in scattered papers.
Sam was grateful that he had somebody like Coach Beiste that he could trust and rely on, she never judged or brought you down in any way; she could lift your spirits whenever you needed it. He slipped off his jacket and laid it over one of the benches, before kicking off his shoes and opening his locker. It's hard enough to get the football padding to fit into the locker, why does it have to be even harder to get it out? Sam tugged harder on his shoulder pads and when they lurched free of the locker he was thrown back into another. The lock hit into his spine and he had to clench his jaw shut tightly to hold back a hiss. Just make it through the day, Sam. You can break later. After getting his towel and shedding off his clothing he was standing directly under steaming water as a low moan of happiness escaped his lips. The water relaxed his tense muscles and washed away the ever present feeling of his Father. He washed and rinsed quickly, drying and dressing in the same manner; he was wishing for a toothbrush to use.
Sam popped a piece of mint gum into his mouth and shoved everything back into his gym locker, shutting it with a slight slam and the click of a lock. "Thanks, Coach Beiste.", he said to her before he walked out of the steam filled locker room, relishing in the cool air of the empty hallways. By the time he reached his locker the school doors opened and other students walked inside, the halls seemed to be buzzing with chatter. It all seemed far away to Sam, who was zoning out as he opened his locker and took out his English book. He hadn't even realized that Kurt and Mercedes had stopped by his locker until a hand came to rest on his shoulder, causing him to yelp in surprise and turn towards them quickly.
Mercedes gasped when she saw Sam's face, looking at the dark circles under his eyes and the slight bruise on his jaw. Kurt's eyes softened when he took in Sam's stance as he looked them over as though he were sizing them up in a defense. "We didn't mean to startle you; we just wanted to know how your weekend was. Mercedes and I went on a weekend long shopping trip, as you can see by her marvelous new jacket and my Alexander McQueen sweater.", said Kurt as he did a little twirl for him. "You look lovely, Mercedes. You too, Kurt. The sweater compliments the highlights in your hair.", replied Sam as he shut his locker, trying hard not to slam it this time. Kurt seemed to glow with pride as he took in Sam's compliment to the fullest that he could, as Mercedes still had her eyes on his appearance.
"Sam, are you okay? You look really tired and hurt, you have a bruise above your eye.", stated Mercedes as she reached up and brushed damp blonde away from his eyes. Kurt gasped as he now saw the bruise for himself, his eyes almost as wide as saucers. Lie your ass off, Sam. They can't find out, they'll think you're dirty. Sam put on the most convincing smile that he could manage as he came to the fact of lying to his friends. "I'm fine, 'Cedes. I didn't sleep last night, and the bruise is from throwing baseball with Stevie. He has a wicked curve ball.", said Sam. Kurt had opened his mouth to say something, after seeing the confusion and disbelief in his friend's eyes, but thankfully for Sam the bell had rung. Thank God. Saved by the bell.