I'm not Ryan Murphy.

I do not own Glee or the characters.

Although, I probably can write them better.

Enjoy!

Previous Endeavors

Chapter One.

[Sometimes, reality can really be a kick in the ass]

Sam warily lifted his head with effort. It felt like it weighed a million pounds. Everything was black and he couldn't decipher if this was because the lights were out or because he couldn't remember how to open his eyes.

"Get up."

Was he in a dream, was he even real? Who was he even or where was he, most importantly. His eyes flickered open, his vision casted over with a red hue. He felt a warm thick trickle down the side of his face, quickly chilled by the breeze that washed over him like a cold wave causing him to shake a little from the uncomfortable sensation. This was the first time he felt alive, unfortunately. The first thing to move was his arm to bring his hand up to his cheek, feeling the cold sticky substance that graced his temple, flowing down to his cheek and across his jawline. When his hand pulled away, his own blood graced his fingertips and upper palm and his eyes darted away instantly in a state of déjà vu.

Echoing laughter filled the air, quiet at first then pulling in like an inviting symphony, full of joy and just pure happiness.

Sam closed his eyes and took in a deep but painfully strained breath as he tilted his head back, letting the memory fill his body from head to toe, his blood stained hand tingling from the continuing breeze.

An all familiar and welcomed face appeared as the giggling and smiling developed across the lips of Mercedes Jones. Arms wrapped around her as the figure behind her developed into Sam Evans himself, laughing with her and planting kisses on her blushed cheek, now covered in flour and dots of thick red pizza sauce from the spontaneous ingredient fight that had just sprung about. Sam spun around, grabbing hold of a bowl behind him already covered in sauce, and dipped his hand into the contents, covering his fingers and upper palm, ready to attack, but he stopped. Something about the way that she was looking at him, caused him to think twice before reacting the way he had planned. Her hands fell to her sides, fists balled up almost in a nervous gesture, lips parted in a somewhat desirable position and she was looking at him with…what was that? Lust? Sam looked at her overcome with an all familiar sensation, one he had felt for her for a very long time. Love. Want. Need. He glanced down at his hand, observing the thick red substance that was soaking his fingers, unsure of his next move and then it happened without warning…

"I said, get…up. Now." The firm and demanding voice filled Sam's ears as his eyes snapped back open, falling back into reality. His body ached. His lips were dry and open, desperately wanting to move to form words, but nothing seemed to be working properly. He was suddenly aware of his partial nakedness as the rush of the wind overcame him, making him feel cold and even more frozen than he already was. How did he let things get this bad?

Sam slowly flipped his body over, the sting of the wet pavement against his bare bruised and wounded skin shot all over his body like a bolt of lightning, causing him to clench his teeth and whimper the first small sound he's managed to make since he woke up. The reality of his situation flooded his mind like a sinking ship and it was nobody's fault, but his own.

"Okay, here's the deal, I'm feeling generous despite the situation pretty boy, and the facts are that I have asked you not once, but twice, to get your pathetic, cheap ass off of the ground, right now, and you're still laying there like a little bitch. I'm giving you one last chance to pick yourself up, get off of my fucking driveway and never show your face anywhere around me or my wife again or I'm going to kill you next time, understand that?" The man standing over him stepped away, waiting once again, his shoe tapping against the pavement almost like the clock of death.

But oh, Sam understood alright. 100% clear.

Sam stood up uneasily, throwing out a few raspy coughs before limping away on his long walk home in his tightly snug undergarments and battle scars, left with nothing but the thoughts of his previous endeavors, constantly seeking things to fill the hole in his heart left by the things…and people…that he had left behind him in Ohio.