Rachel shows up at Sam's motel on a Tuesday after glee practice. Her smile is scary big and she's wearing one of her dresses with polka dots on it and knee-high socks. He wasn't expecting her, so when he gives her an odd look and seemingly guards the front door she enthusiastically launches into her explanation.
"I couldn't help but notice during New Directions' rendition of "Don't Stop" that your younger siblings have the potential to grow into talented young performers. If they continue on the path they are currently traveling, they are easily capable of reaching your level of musical talent. I, however, have decided to step in and guide them with my years of dedicated practice to becoming even better performers. And that is why I'm here today: to offer my assistance."
He can't help but gape at her in confusion until her words seep in. He wants to be offended that she kind of just insulted his own singing, but she's offering help to his siblings and Sam figures it might be good for them to have a hobby, so he nods silently and motions her inside. Sam's always found Rachel kind of intimidating, but he admires her determination and talent. He figures this entire experience can only be interesting.
It's been two weeks since Rachel first came to instruct Stevie and Stacy, and by now they've worked out a schedule. She comes Tuesdays and Thursdays after glee practice in order to help his siblings reach their full vocal range. Or something like that. Sam's not entirely sure what she's doing, but it gives him time to do homework or work at the pizza place while she takes care of his brother and sister, so he's grateful to have her.
One night (it's a Thursday), Rachel notices Sam struggling with his homework. She asks him what's wrong, and he can't meet her eyes when he lowly replies, "I keep falling asleep in my classes because I work the night shift at the pizza place a lot, and now I have no idea what's going on in half of them. And being dyslexic doesn't really help when you're trying to figure out what's going on."
Rachel's brown eyes soften and she tentatively leans to look over Sam's work, which is sprawled messily over the motel's desk. Scanning the various books and notes, she speaks softly, "Algebra, English, Chemistry… I'm fairly skilled in all of these areas. Granted, I'm an honor student, so I am capable of grasping all academic subjects. I can help you, if you'd like. I'm sure I'll be able to fit tutoring sessions into my very busy schedule."
Sam smiles, just a small lifting at the corners of his large lips, and nods.
One Tuesday, Rachel accidentally stays extremely late because of a television break that results in Stacy falling asleep in her lap. They had been watching one of Stacy's favorite cartoons when she drifted off. Rachel didn't have the heart to move her just yet, and neither did Sam, who was sitting at the end of the bed. When Stacy's show ends, "Star Trek" comes on.
Sam's not sure how it happens, because under normal circumstances he would've found a way to restrain himself, but eventually he's spewing Star Trek trivia and theories. Amazingly enough, Rachel is enthralled.
That night, he learns that her laugh is obnoxious and loud and completely enchanting. Maybe she's just delirious from sleep deprivation, or maybe Sam is just now paying attention.
He tells her everything he knows about this particular show, and she soaks all of the information up attentively. Her capacity to be genuinely interested in what he has to say absolutely amazes him.
She winds up staying so late that neither of them finishes their homework. Rachel is upset, of course, but when Sam apologizes profusely for wasting so much time, she pats his arm and tells him it was well worth it. She may not have finished her homework, but she became extremely knowledgeable in what concerned Commander Spock and Captain Kirk. She pauses before she adds that she also gained a very valuable new friend.
Sam positively beams while he walks her to her car, enveloping her in an excited hug before saying goodbye. As she drives away, he can't help but shiver. It's not cold out.
Somehow, Rachel ends up coming over daily. She has dance several times a week, but afterwards she hurries to Sam's dingy motel. She always helps his siblings for about an hour, then Sam and Rachel collectively work on their homework for another hour or so.
While they work, Sam starts noticing little things, like how Rachel furrows her brows and tucks her hair behind her ear when she's working really hard, or how she rests her arm on Sam's chair as she's instructing him. He keeps catching himself staring at her, and sometimes he thinks she's staring too but her eyes always quickly flit away.
She catches him staring again for the twentieth time one day and promptly blushes, an attractive pink flooding her cheeks. Instead of simply looking the other way like she usually does, she watches Sam from under her eyelashes and breathes, "What?"
Thinking fast, Sam blurts, "Do you want to hear an impression?" His eyes go wide, because no one's ever wanted to hear one of his impressions. He can't imagine Rachel will be any different.
Of course she surprises him by blinking and smiling. "Sure, Sam. An impression sounds lovely. We could both use a short break before we resume our rigorous school work."
He smiles appreciatively because Rachel wants to hear one of his dorky impressions. Looking down to prepare himself and then meeting her gaze dead-on, he drawls, "Hey, hey. Surfin' is my passhun. C'mon!" He waves his hands for extra emphasis.
She immediately giggles boisterously, disturbing his sleeping siblings. Their confused expressions cause Rachel to laugh harder, and Sam follows suit. They both laugh until their stomachs hurt, feeling pure joy, and they don't even know why.
Rachel's showing him how to do some weird Algebraic expression when he feels it for the first time. It's caused by a simple brushing of his fingertips against her knuckles, brief and inconsequential. He feels a shock run up his spine, and Rachel inhales sharply. There's a pause in her explanation, and he wants so badly to meet her eyes so she can see the question contained in his own. She doesn't look up, and soon she's speaking hastily as if nothing even happened.
Sam would've believed nothing had happened, if it weren't for the rapid beating of his heart.
It's Sam's birthday, but he doesn't tell Rachel. He's already grateful that she's helped Stevie and Stacy so much.
He decides he honestly doesn't see why he would tell any member of the glee club that it's his birthday, because he doesn't need anything more than the music and their friendship.
Besides, if Rachel did get him something, where would he put it in this single room motel?
No, Sam's not telling Rachel it's his birthday.
A couple days after his birthday, Rachel flits daintily to meet him at his locker. Glee practice has just ended, and by now Sam's learned that Rachel is always in an exceptionally cheery mood after a practice where the entire club didn't turn against her. She requests that he follow her and proceeds to lead him to the auditorium. At first he thinks Rachel did find out about his birthday, but when he mentions it she's surprised and stumbles over her words.
Mercedes and Rachel ask him to prom (the both of them) and he thinks it sounds amazing, but he can't help but stare at Rachel accusingly. She knows he can't afford prom, otherwise he wouldn't have turned down her original offer. She must understand his trepidation because she hurriedly explains the low-budget prom plan. Sam smiles and accepts, because taking two girls to prom? Awesome.
Rachel's so ecstatic that she immediately pulls him into a hug, which he returns whole-heartedly. Mercedes joins in and Sam wraps an arm around her, but he's too busy attempting to decipher what exactly Rachel's hair smells like to pay Mercedes adequate attention. He determines it's something fruity, at the very least.
The day before prom, Rachel comes to Sam's motel with a small package in addition to the rolling backpack she always brings. He's about to ask her what it is when she holds up a hand to quiet him. He furrows his brows and sits down on the bed, pouting like a child in spite of his amusement. She joins him and then holds out the package for him to take. Their fingers brush as he reaches for it, and Rachel's breathing noticeably hitches. Nothing is said, but both of their faces are red.
After folding her hands in her lap and taking a deep breath, Rachel speaks. "I know it was your birthday last week, but you didn't inform me of it until the other day. Now I'm gifting you with this belated present, which will hopefully make up for my unintentional negligence as a friend."
Sam nods but is quick to correct her, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want anyone to feel like they needed to get me a present. But, you know, thank you anyway." He tries to give her the package back, but she shakes her head.
"No, Samuel. I insist that you accept it. Besides, I think you'll really like it." She smiles reassuringly, and after a moment he retracts his arm to open the box. Inside are two guitar picks, both black and imprinted with the name "Sam Evans" in a gold cursive script. Several gold stars surround his name.
His eyebrows raise involuntarily and he has to gulp to distract from the stinging in his eyes. He's never had anyone put so much effort into a gift for him before.
Rachel appears unsettled at his silence, her tiny hands fidgeting with her skirt. After a moment, she defends her choice, "I know the glee club recently bought your guitar back for you, and while you more than likely have your own picks, I just thought it would be nice for you to have personalized ones. And they have gold stars, so you can always remember that Rachel Berry bought you your first personalized picks." She smiles, satisfied with her explanation, but it soon falls because Sam still hasn't said anything. Quietly, "Do you like it? Because if you don't, you can tell me. It's okay."
Shaking his mop of blonde hair in a frenzy, Sam clears his throat and replies, "No, no! I love it. It's just… thank you. It means a lot. They're actually really cool." And then he grins at her, all of his pearly white teeth on display. All Rachel can do is smile in response, glancing down to distract herself from the pink reaching the tips of her ears.
Sam considers hugging her (because he really wants to), but before he can Rachel's talking again. "I'm really glad you like them, Sam. Now that I've given you your birthday present, I have a proposition for you." Sam's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the implications of that sentence, and Rachel blushes scarlet. "Not in… that way, of course. I was going to say that I need you to do something for Mercedes while I'm singing at prom. She wants a boy to tell her she's beautiful and ask her to dance. I was wondering if you could do that for her. Please?"
Her eyes shine hopefully and all he can do is nod mutely.
Sam is getting really sick of Rachel fawning over Jesse. He gets it, the guy was in college or whatever, but he flunked out. Who even does that? Sam's pretty sure that doesn't make someone extra smart or whatever. But still, here they all are at Breadstix and all Rachel can do is giggle and flirt with Jesse. Sam just feels like punching the guy's face in, which is really weird because he's usually a pretty chill guy.
He tries to make conversation about his bolo tie because maybe Jesse will surprise him and they can find something in common. But no, Jesse just acts like a jerk and Sam finds out that Rachel told Jesse about his situation. Sam would be more upset, but then Finn and Quinn show up and Rachel looks really sad and Sam's just kind of staring at her and wondering what to do. Mercedes persuades them to leave before Finn and Jesse get in a fight over Rachel, and as much as Sam kind of hates Finn for convincing Quinn to cheat on him, he thinks he'd be rooting for Finn if a physical fight really did break out.
Ignoring the pressure building in his chest because of his irrational anger at Jesse and Rachel, Sam joins in when everyone clinks glasses. He scoots a little closer to Mercedes, because she's the only one that he's not annoyed by right now.
Sam ignores Rachel for as long as possible during prom. He dances with Mercedes and barely looks Rachel's way for the first half of the night.
Something in his gut feels unsettled that Rachel doesn't seem to notice. He promises himself he's not going to dance with her. Not even after Jesse and Finn get thrown out.
Somehow, Sam ends up dancing with Rachel. He kind of stopped being mad at her the second she looked at him with her big, glossy orbs.
While they dance, he pulls her close and tells her she looks really pretty. She giggles and then twirls away, thanking him by grabbing his hands and swinging them.
He's kind of smiling like a fool.
He realizes he has a zero percent chance after Sue's sister's funeral. Rachel comes to the motel looking shaky and upset, and the second Sam asks what's wrong she breaks down in tears. All he can do is lead her to the bathroom, so Stevie and Stacy don't see her like this, and then encompass her in his best hug. He rubs her arms comfortingly while she soaks his black dress shirt and hiccups.
When her hysterics finally settle a bit, Sam lifts her chin and asks gently, "What happened?"
Rachel chokes out a feeble, "Finn," before bursting into tears again. Sam can feel himself tense with blind anger. Whatever Finn did to make Rachel break down like this is reason enough for Sam to go all Han Solo on him. Before he can orchestrate exactly how he would take down the giant teenager, Rachel looks up and tries to explain, "It's just… the funeral… it made me realize how much I miss him." She hiccups before continuing brokenly, "But-but then there's Jesse, and… I think I still have feelings for him. I don't know what to do."
Her head ducks to bury in his chest again, but all Sam can focus on is the uncomfortable tightening in his chest. He can't even respond to her words because of the lump forming in his throat. He just holds her until she stops crying.
Rachel still comes over everyday, but things feel awkward. Sam's not sure if it's his fault or hers, but for whatever reason, something is off.
A couple days before Nationals, Sam receives a call from Mercedes. She tells him about how wonderful prom was because of him, and that she'd really like to meet up for coffee. She said she understood his situation, and if he wanted her to pay she would. He can't let her pay, because the gentleman always pays, but he accepts her offer to go to coffee.
He's not sure why, but while he's making her laugh on their almost-date, something akin to guilt twists his stomach. It doesn't really make sense, so he pushes it aside and ignores it.
He also ignores the fact that Mercedes' tendency to act like a diva kind of reminds him of someone else.
On the plane ride to New York and even for the entire first day there, Rachel doesn't talk to him at all.
It totally doesn't bug him or anything. He's not even sure why he noticed. He has Mercedes, even if it's in secret.
The secrecy was actually his idea, but much like the fact that he didn't know why being with her made him feel guilty, he doesn't know why he made the suggestion. Her agreement was mostly based on the fact that he claimed to want to preserve their spark. He likes Mercedes, so he didn't really lie… exactly.
Sam agrees to help Finn win over Rachel. He's pretty sure it'll make her happy. And remember, he has Mercedes. That's crucial.
Just because he's helping Finn doesn't mean he has to actually look at Finn and Rachel being all coupley, does it?
That is, until Rachel turns Finn down. Sam doesn't notice he's smiling until he finds himself jogging after her, but he promptly swallows and forces it down. It's late at night, and he can't very well let her walk back to the hotel alone. They're in a huge city.
On the way back, Rachel's small frame is racked with silent sobs. Sam's not really sure what to do, but she's not telling him to leave her alone so he just treads carefully next to her.
They make it all the way to the hallway in front of her room before she's turning around, her head finding a familiar position against his chest. His arms immediately wrap around her, and she cries until she can't anymore and then swiftly kisses him on the cheek.
"Thank you," she whispers, and before he can even open his mouth to reply she's disappearing into her room.
He's frozen for a moment in the wake of her actions, but it's a really short moment. Barely even a moment at all.
Finn and Rachel make a huge scene at Nationals by making out in front of the whole crowd, something that definitely wasn't scripted.
Sam hugs Mercedes, but no one notices.
It's well into the summer, and Sam's still dating Mercedes. He's content. She's pretty cool most of the time, and she laughs at his goofy impressions. He smiles when she laughs, because it's a nice sound even if it is a little high-pitched.
He hasn't talked to Rachel in weeks. Not that he's paying any attention to that fact.
It's mid-June when there's a knock on his motel room with Rachel on the other side of the door. He opens the door and meets her eyes coolly. Whether he'd ever willingly admit it or not, he's partially wounded by how long she'd managed to ignore him. He's not even sure she was ignoring him, but she certainly wasn't paying him any attention. They're supposed to be friends or something, aren't they?
With large eyes, Rachel greets him tentatively. "Hello, Sam. I'm sorry I haven't remained in touch with you lately, but as it so happens, Finn and I are back together. I suppose I was distracted by that fact. I'm aware this is not an adequate excuse, but I'm here to make amends. I miss Stevie and Stacy." Her gaze flickers down before she meets his eyes again. "And you," she adds.
His eyes search her face for a long moment after she's finished speaking before he nods, the corners of his lips turning up in a warm smile. "Come on in," he says, his head inclined towards the inside of the room.
It's awkward at first, but gradually things between them return to normal. She starts coming over twice a week, just like she used to. That bleeds into three times a week, which morphs into four.
They're friends again, and they talk about their separate interests until they become similar interests. Sometimes Rachel catches him off guard and knows the name of a "Star Trek" episode when it first comes on before even he does. It's nice, to have a friend and some help with Stevie and Stacy.
He still usually avoids touching her at all costs.
It's a Thursday when Stacy does the unthinkable. She insults Commander Spock. Naturally, the only suitable punishment for such an unspeakable crime is a tickle onslaught. Rachel's there, and as Sam tackles his little sister to the bed and attacks her ribs mercilessly, her eyebrows raise in a mixture of confusion and amusement. Sam doesn't notice because Stacy's squeals of laughter are causing him to chuckle, but eventually Rachel must speak up.
"Sam," she breathes, a small giggle leaving her lips when he distractedly hums at her. "Don't you think you've punished her enough? It's been almost five minutes. Surely her insult was not worth such a rigorous punishment."
Sam suddenly halts all of his movements, his entire body arching like a panther as he turns to stare Rachel down. Her eyebrows furrow at the unreadable expression on his face before a huge smirk breaks across his features. "Rachel," he mumbles, Stacy long forgotten as he begins stalking towards Rachel, his pace slow and measured. "Are you challenging my authority?"
His eyebrows raise threateningly as she begins backing away from him, but soon her back is against the bathroom door and she has nowhere to run. She releases a nervous kind of chuckle, all too aware of what's coming.
Within seconds his hands are on her, his fingers dancing along her ribs until she's almost doubled over with laughter. Her head buries into his chest, and he refuses to stop until her cheeks are positively burning from laughing so hard. She attempts feeble protests but he pays no mind to any of them for a long time.
Eventually his fingers still against her torso and she looks up at him, completely breathless. Their eyes are locked and there are words on the tip of Sam's tongue but he can't actually remember what they were. He's not thinking when he starts leaning forward, but then Rachel's hands are on his chest and an apology is spilling from his lips and they're rapidly breaking all physical contact.
She doesn't meet his eyes when she tells him she has to go but she'll be back Tuesday, as she always is.
It's Friday when Stevie asks him if Rachel is his girlfriend. Sam offers a miniscule and very forced smile, his answer a simple, "No."
The truth of his words rings in his ears and rips at his gut for the rest of the day.
The next couple of times that Rachel comes over, things are excruciatingly awkward (again). Sam can't figure out a way to remedy the situation until Rachel arrives later than usual one day. It's pitch black outside, and he immediately knows something is up. The shine that is usually present in her eyes is gone. His mom came back from pounding the pavement already, and as Sam looks down at Rachel's emotionless face an idea strikes him.
"Come with me," he says, already grabbing a blanket from inside and then exiting the motel room with Rachel at his heels. She doesn't say anything, but he knows she must be wondering what he's thinking. In lieu of answering her he reaches out a hand to grasp hers, playing it off like the act is completely innocent. She doesn't pull away, so he either fooled her or she just doesn't have it in her to resist.
It's not long before they've reached the little patch of grass that resides in the middle of the motel's parking lot. The rooms of the motel all surround this little patch, their doors facing towards it, and Sam's unsure of the purpose of it other than that it looks kind of nice. A lot of the flowers and shrubbery aren't vivid enough to be considered fully beautiful, but they provide a nice contrast to the rest of the motel.
Sam flattens his blanket onto the grass and then motions for Rachel to sit down. She's woken from her trance, if only slightly, and is now giving him a questioning look. He grins childishly in response before sitting down beside her, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes.
"I like astronomy," he says quietly, and she turns more towards him at the revelation that he's sharing something with her. "It's easy to forget all my problems when I think about how big space is, y'know?"
He remembers when he'd had a similar conversation with Quinn Fabray, but back then it was in a feeble attempt to woo her. Now he's just trying to bring the sparkle back to Rachel's eyes. Her excitement usually shines through when he shares knowledge with her.
"Anyway," he sighs, looking up at the stars above. "I figured I can teach you about some stars and stuff, and you can pretend you don't already know the names of all the asterisms." His eyes flicker away from hers when he mumbles, "And then you won't have to tell me what's wrong, if you don't want."
Without warning, he falls back onto the blanket, his hands rising to clasp behind his head. Rachel tentatively lays next to him, partially on her side. She still hasn't said anything, and that might worry Sam more than anything. He launches into his explanations instead of dwelling, glancing at her every once in a while to ensure that she's still paying rapt attention.
He's spewing trivia about Ursa Major when Rachel suddenly interrupts him to inform him that at some point his logic had overlapped, and he was confusing one constellation with another. The tone of her voice is back to that of the Rachel Berry that Sam has grown to know and - uh, like. The grin on his face is as large as it's ever been when he realizes that he's the one who brought her back.
The next day, Rachel shows up wearing her brightest smile and a yellow ensemble to match. He isn't sure whether it's acceptable for him to ask what had upset her the other day, so he doesn't say anything.
Soon enough she opens up about it herself, informing him that her and Finn had engaged in a small squabble about how she wasn't spending enough time with him, but they had since reconciled and are now stronger than ever.
Or something like that. Sam stopped listening after she mentioned Finn.
Mercedes breaks up with him at the beginning of August. She says he's been distant since the beginning, but it's gotten worse. Her conclusion is this: he's in love with someone else.
He pretends he has no clue what she's talking about. He's getting really good at pretending.
Things are pretty uneventful until school starts up. Sam's still Rachel's friend (probably her best friend), and he's still single. He never bothered trying to get Mercedes back, partly because he knew it was pointless and partly because he knew she was right.
The part of him that knows she's right is the same part that finds reasons to touch Rachel, even if it means his fingers brush hers while they're laying on the blanket outside of his motel. Their astronomy "discussions", as she refers to them, have become a semi-weekly event.
They might be the best part of Sam's summer.
The really painful part doesn't start until school does. Sam had gotten so used to spending time with just Rachel that he'd forgotten she was still with Finn. He'd forgotten that he'd have to see them around school, holding hands and smiling and sometimes kissing.
When he sees them in the halls, Sam can't help but think that Finn should be holding Rachel's books. He never does, and she's really small. She might need help or something.
He grimaces at his own thoughts. Since when does Rachel Berry need help?
They're only a month into school, and already Rachel's cut her visitations down significantly. Her excuse is that school and glee are crucial and absorb most of her time, but Sam's pretty sure Finn's happiness plays a huge role in it. Of course Finn would want to spend time with his own girlfriend, and who was Sam to be upset about that?
He realizes how upset he really is when he and Rachel are working on their homework together and she can't stop fidgeting. He sighs exasperatedly before putting his notebook down, turning to her. "What's going on? You're acting like you've got ants in your pants or something."
She grimaces at the thought before connecting her gaze with his, her teeth coming to clamp down on her lips. Sam hates that he thinks it's cute, so he silently stews in anticipation of her answer.
"It's just… I can confide in you, can't I? I mean, I feel as if we've grown very close over the course of the last few months and I'd certainly consider you one of my best friends, if not the best. Perhaps tied with Kurt."
She's rambling, which Sam realizes means she's nervous, but he can't help the grin that adorns his face at the revelation that she considers him a best friend. Of course he knew it to be true on some level, but knowing it and hearing her say it are two undeniably different experiences.
He's still smiling ear to ear when he finally cuts her off. "Yeah, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?" He scans her face for any traces of doubt but finds none, and slowly she nods her head in compliance. "So then what's up?"
When she starts talking about Finn, he wants to roll his eyes.
When she starts talking about her and Finn's plans to finally "engage in sexual intercourse," his eyes burn.
(He fights the tears for as long as he can and when Rachel asks him what's wrong, he tells her it's allergies. He's pretty sure that she knows he doesn't have any, but she leaves willingly anyway. He should be relieved, but the twisting in his gut only worsens until he's sure she stabbed him with a rusty knife.)
He doesn't talk to her the next day.
Or the next.
He kind of avoids her for a couple weeks.
It's not until three weeks after their conversation that he sees her and Finn in the hallway and there's this glow accompanying her smile and she's looking at Finn like he's her entire world and Sam just knows.
He goes home early that day, because he's pretty sure he's going to vomit up the entire contents of his stomach and then his heart will just plop out along with it all.
He asks Quinn out. He doesn't even know why, other than that his chest hurts like he's experiencing some kind of perpetual heart attack and fixing that ache is of the utmost importance. Quinn used to be his world, if only because she always seemed so quintessentially perfect.
(Even Sam knows she's not, but he's willing to pretend. That's his new hobby now anyway.)
Did he mention she says yes? But then she suggests he raise her baby and, yeah, Sam loves kids, but he's really not up for playing dad when he's still a teenager and half the time he's raising his own siblings. He's got a lot of problems of his own already, and taking on Quinn's is just too much.
He knows he has to break it off because of this, but then she greets him with a tear-streaked face one day before fourth period and he knows she's going to do it for him.
What he doesn't expect is the revelation that she's in love with Puck, but he always kind of suspected there was something more than just the baby connecting those two. He shrugs and walks away from her, because his heart's already been missing for months and this really doesn't hurt as much as it should.
It's sectionals before he even says a word to Rachel again.
She walks up to him right before he's about to go on (she's suspended and can't perform), and he's half tempted to glance behind him in case she's really heading for Finn. She meets his eyes dead-on, and that freezes him in place.
"Good luck," she looks like she wants to hug him, but it's been a long time since they'd even spoken to each other, let alone touched.
He really wishes she would hug him, but instead he just chokes out, "I'm sorry." The part where he's really apologizing for being a horrible friend and falling in love with her when he knew he shouldn't kind of goes unsaid. She probably only understood the first part though.
She nods sadly before walking away, and the very look on her face right as she's turning around is so full of anguish that he feels absolutely disgusted with himself. In an attempt to assuage the feeling so he won't throw up, he concentrates on the fact that he didn't do anything.
But then again, maybe that was the problem.
It's not until a week into December that Sam musters the courage to actually do something. The problem is that Rachel is still Finn's girlfriend and attempting to woo his friend's girlfriend away from him did not seem like a very cool thing to do. But Finn did it to him, didn't he?
Sam knows his logic is flawed because he's not vindictive enough to be vengeful, but he needs the ache in his chest to go away and it seems like the only way he can calm it is if he spends time with Rachel again. Platonic or not, he really misses her.
He corners her after glee practice while Finn is distracted by something Santana is saying, and right away the twist in his gut intensifies. The coward in him wants to bow out amicably, but instead he steels himself because he has to do this.
"Hey," he waves, even though it seems a bit redundant. The air is stifling and awkward and Sam really wishes he could remember what it was like with Rachel before, but he'd gotten so used to the tension that he simply couldn't remember.
"Hello, Samuel." Her voice is cautiously polite and she's calling him Samuel, which she hasn't done in months, and he gulps because he's not handling any part of this situation well.
"Look, do you think we could start over? 'Cause once upon a time we were, like, best friends and this," he motions between them, "really sucks." Hope shines in his eyes because he can no longer help it, and he's intentionally giving her his best puppy dog face.
Rachel just sighs and glances down, a sure sign that she's thinking about it. He's about to retract his offer when she looks up and a brilliant smile spreads across her face. The coil in his gut finally comes undone, genuine calm settling over him.
"Okay," she concedes, "friends?"
He can only offer his best smile in response. Maybe this isn't exactly what he wants, but it's so much better than nothing.
Now that they're friends again, Rachel starts coming over a couple times a week. Sometimes she just stops by and sometimes she stays for hours.
He's sworn off touching her, but he also swore he'd stop being her friend and look how well that turned out.
It's after Christmas when they're both finally free for another astronomy session. Rachel's glowing in a bright plaid coat that only she would wear, and Sam's actually thankful that his hair's grown so long because it's keeping his ears warm. He can't exactly afford ear muffs, because after all, he still lives in a motel room.
They lay out several blankets on the fallen snow, and maybe it's kind of stupid to look at the stars when it's below freezing outside, but this is their tradition and Rachel's adamant about its continuance.
While Rachel wears a hat, scarf, and warm leggings in addition to her coat, all Sam wears is his plaid jacket and some jeans. He's shivering a bit, but this activity is too important to him and her for him to back out simply because of the bitter cold.
Of course Rachel's ever-attentive gaze eventually notices him shaking, and before he can even blink she's wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him so close that her head is tucked under his chin. On one hand, he's truly grateful; on the other, this is extremely dangerous. Having Rachel this close is not something he's prepared himself for since the recent revival of their friendship.
"I-I'm fine, y'know," he protests, but his voice is trembling and in spite of himself his hands have found their way to her back so he can pull her closer. The warmth of her body is proving to be too much to resist.
"Don't be ridiculous, Sam," she reprimands, and he just knows her eyebrows are creasing in disbelief. "You're freezing."
A new kind of warmth spreads through him at the giggle that follows her accusation, and he grins before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. "You know you're the one who hugged me, right? No complaining." He's teasing her, and for the first time in a while things feel exactly like they used to.
"Excuse me!" she gasps, eyes wide. "I'll complain if I so please, and if you protest, I'll let go of you. And then you can just contract frost bite, Sam Evans."
He can't help but chuckle at that before reconstructing his facial expression so that it appears that he's taken great offense. "You wouldn't," he dares, and maybe it's a bad idea, but Rachel inspires this sort of fearless and light feeling in him.
"Try me."
It isn't until after she's spoken that he realizes how close their faces are, so much so that he can feel her breath fanning against his cheek. That same feeling he always has when he's around Rachel pools in his stomach, and he might be inching forward involuntarily. He's pretty sure she is too, and he's about to close his eyes when she speaks and his body stills.
"Finn bought me a star."
Her words are just a whisper of thin air, but they burn him to the core until he's rapidly recoiling from her.
The revelation is utterly irrelevant and yet not at all.
After that, Sam's pretty sure he's done. He can't handle all this back and forth and he can't handle being around her when he knows she's not his to be around. Screw the friendship, he just needs to get over her.
He tried, he really did. But the second he saw her eyes dim in confusion and anxiety, he was done for. He couldn't even get past "about our friendship" because of the look that crossed her face.
When he stopped short, she asked if they could hang out after school. What was he going to say? No, I'm trying to break up with you even though you're actually dating my friend?
Sam's only been home for ten minutes when Rachel shows up at his house, a pair of scissors in one hand and a bag of what looks like cosmetics in the other. His eyebrows knit in confusion at the sight of her, but she promptly shushes him before pushing her way inside.
"Your hair is far too long, Sam," she begins, determination lighting her features in a uniquely Rachel Berry manner. Something seems different about her now, more frenzied. It's almost as if she's trying too hard to be herself, and Sam's not entirely sure how to react to that. "It's time for a haircut."
"Um, what?" he sputters, following her precariously as she marches towards his bathroom. For once Stevie and Stacey are with a babysitter, and for that Sam is grateful. Rachel is absolutely terrifying when she is both fiercely determined and wielding scissors.
"Your hair," she prompts once they're inside the miniscule bathroom, her eyes flickering up to his almost shoulder-length mop of golden hair. "I'm going to cut it. I assure you I am well-qualified, as I have been providing haircuts for daddy for several years now."
His eyes widen as her intentions finally set in, and he can't help the pitch of his voice when he protests, "You really don't have to do that, Rach. My hair's fine the way it is." He'd actually grown quite fond of his outgrown hair, feeling more like the surfer guy he'd once aspired to be.
"Now, Sam… who's that superhero you're always telling me about? Superman? Yes, well, do you believe Clark Kent would allow his hair to be this unkempt for this long when there was something he could do about it?"
He's so distracted and stunned by the fact that Rachel is using his favorite superhero as a means to persuade him that he can't even properly evaluate her logic. All he can do is gape at her, his cheeks flushed from amazement.
She interprets his silence as acquiescence and immediately exits the bathroom only to return a moment later with the chair from the main room. It barely fits in the cramped space, but somehow Rachel manages to face it towards the mirror in between herself and Sam. He finally comes to when she motions for him to sit, and he obeys only because he knows resistance is futile. Besides, something is still slightly off with her and allowing her to have her way only seems appropriate.
He watches patiently as she digs around her bag, which is now perched on the counter, and then promptly pulls out a brush and a bottle of some kind of hair product. His eyebrows raise involuntarily, but she only sends him an answering look that tells him he shouldn't comment.
She starts working on his hair and he doesn't really know how to react, so he simply watches her face. Periodically her nose scrunches in concentration, and it's such an endearing look that he can't help but chuckle.
Maybe it's the fact that he can tell something is undeniably different between the two of them, but for whatever reason, Sam feels an overwhelming rush of confidence. Suddenly he can't think about anything other than catching her attention.
A small smirk twists his features as he taps his foot against hers, watching closely for any reaction. She only huffs in response, like she's trying to maintain her concentration. His eyebrows furrow at this, and with new vigor he runs the toe of his foot along her calf slowly but determinedly. This time, she inhales sharply as her fingers still against his forehead.
"Sam…" she warns, though her voice is breathless.
He only hums in response, feigning innocence but wrapping his foot around her ankle.
"I can't cut your hair very well if you're going to be… distracting me." Her voice is still barely above a whisper.
"Fine," he concedes after a long moment. His smirk only grows as he removes his foot from its position around her ankle. "I won't even touch you anymore." He's still watching her face closely, because he can sense the importance of her reaction. Maybe he's just exasperated from holding himself back for so long. Rachel knew what kind of effect she could have on him, and now he was turning the tables.
For a moment he thinks she's going to protest, but then an odd look passes over her face before she swallows and nods. He wants to feel victorious, but only slight disappointment blooms in his chest.
He sits still and pouts for the next ten minutes as she actually cuts his hair, silence falling over the two of them. Eventually she finishes the entire left side of his head and is prepared to cut the other side. This presents a problem in that Sam and his chair are blocking her path in the tiny bathroom, and when he realizes this, his smirk returns at full force.
Rachel's eyebrows crease and she bites her lip as she searches for a solution, but when she glances at Sam he only raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge. He'd already started some kind of competition, and now he was only encouraging it. He watches the progression of her emotions carefully, one bleeding into the next, until finally she settles on stubborn determination.
Meeting his eyes steadily, Rachel murmurs, "I have to sit on your lap now." She doesn't ask.
He supposes he was expecting an explanation, because it completely catches him off guard when she suddenly straddles him and settles onto his lap. The entire situation almost makes him want to laugh out loud, but he's too busy staring at Rachel in shock to do much of anything. A very tiny smile appears on her lips before it's gone, and Sam presumes that she must've forced it down. The idea that Rachel Berry doesn't lose is taking on a whole new meaning for him right now.
"W-what are you doing?" he manages to choke after a moment.
That smile appears again, only this time there's a hint of mischief to it that Sam can't decide if he's afraid of or turned on by.
"I'm cutting your hair," she answers simply. "Now turn your head," she places her palms on each of his cheeks and then turns his head towards the left so that she has more access to the right side.
Sam's pretty sure he just spontaneously developed asthma, because he never used to breathe this coarsely. But he's also never had Rachel Berry in his lap, which means he never knew how well she fit there.
He tries to maintain his breathing as best he can, but concentrating on anything other than the fact that she is definitely right there is probably the most difficult task Sam's ever attempted. Briefly he considers the fact that last time he checked she was still with Finn, but she's the one who climbed in his lap and has he mentioned that thinking is really hard?
"Sam," Rachel breathes, and he's now also hyper-aware of her breath on his cheek. "You're breathing too hard. I can't finish unless you stay still." He's pretty sure she's just teasing him, only this time it's a much different teasing than what he's accustomed to. Her voice is lower than usual and that definitely makes him think she's trying to have this effect on him.
He gulps before mumbling a half-hearted apology, but he doesn't quite comprehend how she expects him to regulate his breathing when his heart is still pumping this erratically.
She starts to say his name again, but then she wiggles her hips and suddenly Sam has lost all control. His lips are instantly on hers while his fingers knot in her hair, desperately attempting to pull her closer to him. There's a clatter as Rachel drops the scissors so her hands can grip at his shirt and maybe he should be worried about whether or not this is moral but everything he'd been craving these past few months is suddenly coming to fruition and he can't find it anywhere in himself to stop it.
He pulls away for a tiny second so he can breathe, and in that moment she lets out a little huff that definitely started with an "F." With that noise, his entire world refocuses and reality comes crashing down. He has to gulp at the lump forming in his throat because that hurt.
Rachel's eyes are still closed, and he thinks she might be trying to figure out a way to play it off but it already happened and now it's too late. His hands fall away from her hair until they're at his sides and if he could find a way to not be touching her at all, he would.
"What about Finn?" he breathes after a moment, and now that reality's back he realizes how bad this is. It doesn't matter whether Finn did it to him or not, because Sam is not this guy. He's never been this guy, and he's not going to start now. Hurting people has always been the one thing he avoided.
"We broke up," she insists, her eyes opening to meet his. He can tell she's being honest, but suspicion still clouds his mind.
"When?" she bites her lip, and a burst of white hot anger flashes through him. "It was today, wasn't it?" He can't withhold the accusation in his tone.
She just nods, and contrary to only moments before, Sam would do anything to have her not be in his lap. "Did he dump you?" There's an edge to his words that even he doesn't recognize, and just the sound of it makes Rachel flinch. When she doesn't answer for a long moment, he knows he's guessed right.
"So, what? I'm just the rebound?" This time the indignation in his tone is laced with hurt.
"No, Sam! That's not it!" She's protesting and her fingers are tightening in his shirt again, but it's too late. The hurt in his chest has intensified, twisting with the anger until he's not even lucid anymore. Having everything you want and then having it ripped away from you all in one moment takes a toll on a person, and Sam is no different.
"I think you should leave now, Rach," he cuts in. His tone is resigned, but when he realizes that her nickname slipped out he has to swallow against the pain.
He's pretty sure she was going to fight back because when he looks up at her she's in the process of opening her mouth, but when she sees his face her jaw snaps shut and she nods.
After she leaves, Sam realizes that half his hair still needs a haircut. He does it himself, but he's pretty sure it looks absolutely horrible. He really wishes he could find it in himself to care.
(It does look horrible. His mom laughs when she gets home before deciding to fix it herself. He tries to concentrate on anything other than what happened earlier, but even his mom figures out that something's wrong.
It's unbearably silent as she cuts his hair, but afterwards she kisses his forehead and tells him everything's fine. That kind of makes him want to cry, too.)
When he sees her in the hallway the next week, he turns on his heel and books it out of there. He decides it's probably best that he takes all the hallways that she doesn't, so he starts doing that. He also skips a couple glee practices. Avoiding her is the only way he can get over her.
He thinks it will work. Like, seventy-five percent sure.
By Friday she must've figured out his game plan, because she starts showing up in the hallways that are farthest from any of her classes. A tiny part of him is rejoicing because she's actually reacting to his avoidance, unlike last time, but mostly he's becoming weary of leaping into the boys' bathroom and random janitor's closets whenever she shows up.
It also sucks that every time she sees him, her brown eyes widen in hope and he just knows he's crushing it when he disappears.
Halfway through the following week and he's still hiding out in bathrooms and closets between classes. Rachel still hasn't given up, which would almost be respectable if it wasn't so painful.
It's between fourth and fifth hour when he scurries into the second floor janitor's closet, already anticipating her arrival in the hallway. His back's against the door and he's about to breathe a sigh of relief when the light bulb clicks on, and he definitely wasn't the one to do it. He has half a mind to scream bloody murder, but then Rachel's stepping forward and her brows are furrowed so deeply it's almost comical. She looks positively murderous.
"Uh… hey, Rachel," he mumbles, his voice slightly high because he's genuinely afraid. Making Rachel Berry angry was not a recommended action. He wonders if he presses against the door hard enough if he can perform some weird osmosis trick and just… seep through the wood. Now more than ever, Sam needs superpowers.
"Samuel," she grits, her teeth shining menacingly in the dim light. "You are one seriously difficult person to locate."
"Yeah, about that…" Sam trails off, his eyebrows furrowing. Why does he owe her an explanation? She hurt him, not the other way around. He's totally justified in avoiding her. He opens his mouth to tell her just that, but she promptly cuts him off.
"There's no need to offer a feeble excuse. I completely understand." She pauses for a moment. "But I do believe that you at least owe me the opportunity to explain my own actions, as well as the feelings which motivated them." Her tone, which had been determined and forceful, is suddenly meek. "Do you think you can do that?"
He gulps and nods, bracing himself for the inevitable pain. What could she possibly need to tell him, other than that she missed him but wanted to stay friends? Sam may not be the brightest guy, but he knew the implications of a girl saying another dude's name while he was kissing her. They weren't good.
"The reason Finn ended our… entanglement," Sam cringes at her word choice, "is because he had realized something that I simply hadn't. I was so… caught up in the ideal of finally having Finn all to myself that I neglected to realize that my dream was more about having Finn than actually being with him. What's more picturesque than the lead male and lead female reuniting for good, aspiring to conquer Broadway and New York?"
Sam shrugs because the lump in his throat is preventing him from speaking. And even if he could speak, he wouldn't know what to say. Rachel's confusing him, and he can't yet tell what her point is.
"Well, though I was preoccupied with that dream, I was also preoccupied with you. Finn took notice of the time we spent together, and of how my mood was effected by both your presence and your absence. What he discerned was that…" she pauses, her hands coming to rest on Sam's chest. He's desperately trying to read her expression, but she's avoiding his gaze. Finally, she inhales deeply, as if to steel herself for her next words.
"He told me that I was in love with you, rather I knew it or not." Sam holds his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I scoffed at his accusation, too heartbroken by the realization that he was ending our relationship prematurely. But then when I went to see you, I saw an opportunity to test his theory. I was extremely confused at the time, and not at all in the right mind to be doing such a thing. Afterwards, though, when you were so hurt and-and so angry…"
Sam's gaze settles on the floor, feeling that same pain gripping at his chest. He really didn't want to think about that day again. Certainly not now, with Rachel so close. She was sure to see how profoundly she'd broken him.
"I realized he was right, Sam." Her words are slightly above a whisper, and if Sam didn't know any better he'd say they were entirely his imagination. His head snaps up, his eyes widening as he searches her face for regret, or doubt, or any sign that she's lying to him. He finds nothing but a small smile on her face - the smile that comes with the relief of revealing something kept hidden for a long time. Too long.
There's a miniscule moment where Sam's grin stretches so far it encompasses his entire face, where his eyes shine brightly to mirror Rachel's, where their gazes connect and he can't feel anything but pure, unadulterated happiness. It's barely a moment at all, but it's there.
And then he's kissing her, and it doesn't matter that the bell's ringing or that they're in the janitor's closet and it kind of smells like cleaning products, because he loves her and for whatever marvelous, impossible reason, she loves him too.