Remember, reviews motivate me to finish/continue stories. If the story doesn't get much attention, i get bored with it. So PLEASE review, fave, and follow! PS: Last chapter was a bit choppy, but that was just an intro! It only gets better from here!


Sam
Sam Evans woke with a pounding headache, and something wet and sticky covering his hand. He grunted and sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. Glass, red, bodies, people, and walls of metal encasing him. It was hot out, and his skin was sticky with sweat. The air was so humid that it felt thick in his lungs, and he was uncomfortably torrid. People were yelling, but they sounded far away and fuzzy. A woman was screaming. Santana, maybe. Dammit, was he hungover again?
Then it all came rushing back to him. The glee club, the bus, the explosion, or whatever the hell that was. That would explain the yelling, then. And the blood.
God, the blood. His palm was covered in it, a big gash at the center. He stared down at it for a few moments before looking around him, more clearly this time. There was blood on the bus floor. Too much of it. And there was some on the seat, still wet. Was that his? He really hoped it was his. He heard a groan, and realized that Mercedes was passed out across from him, Tina at his right. There was someone else laying down in the back of the bus, but he couldn't tell who. A man with dirty sneakers.
Sam leaned heavily against the seat as he stood, stumbling around for the door, only to realize that it was on the ceiling.
Shit, the bus was turned over on it's side.
Luckily, there was an emergency stop on the ceiling (Now side) Of the bus, and Sam managed to fit through it, struggling ungracefully. As soon as he stumbled out of the bus, though, he wanted right back in. There were more bodies here. And this is where all the screaming was coming from.
Santana had an unconscious Brittany in her arms, and the blonde's arm was twisted oddly, gushing blood. Mike Chang was kneeling beside her. Blaine was wandering aimlessly around, and when he felt hands on his shoulders and noticed the shorter boy's worried, lined face right in front of him, he realized that he was being spoken to.
"What?" He said stupidly, blinking a few times so his friend's face became more focused.
"Have you seen Kurt?" He repeated. Sam shook his head. The hands suddenly left his shoulders and Blaine staggered on, calling for his husband repeatedly. Where would Kurt have gone?
Oh, he realized as he looked around the field where they had... ended up. There were unconscious bodies everywhere. Surely they couldn't have just... Become there?
Images of an explosion, and his friends flying every which way caused Sam to dry-heave, dropping to his knees. He coughed and coughed for what seemed like hours, but could have only been a few minutes or so. He fought back tears, fought back vomit, and fought back the urge to curl up on the ground there and call for his mom. Finally, when he had collected himself, he stood and brushed his knees off. He had to help someone, somehow.
"Blaine? Blaine..." Sam jogged over to the man, who looked near tears. "I'll help- where- where did you see him last?"
"On the bus, Sam." Blaine didn't stop moving as he answered him, his eyes darting around nervously.
"Right- On... on the bus. Stupid question, sorry."
"No, it- oh my god."
Sam looked up and saw Blaine staring beyond the bus, eyes wide. Sam followed his gaze to a dirty, exhausted-looking Finn Hudson, who had something on his back.
Someone on his back.
Blaine ran towards the taller boy, who carefully set his cargo down. Sam followed and stared down at a broken, bloody Kurt Hummel, breathing raggedly.
"W-What happened?" Blaine stuttered out. Finn knelt beside the other man, over his little brother.
"I don't know, he... I woke up, a-and he was next to me, a-and he was awake b-but he couldn't walk s-so I picked him up a-and it hurt him so much- and I tried Blaine, I r-really tried to make it not hurt b-but- but he passed out and..." Finn's eyes were glassy, and Sam suddenly realized the weight of the situation. Kurt could die. Kurt, who had donated clothes the second he heard about Sam's family's struggles. Kurt, who always had something nice to say to whoever needed it. Kurt, who would pop out his hip and lay down the cold, hard facts the minute someone insulted him or his friends. Happy Kurt. Alive Kurt.
"Mike!" He stood and shouted. The boy looked up and Sam waved him over, gesturing to Kurt.
"What's the m- oh, god..." Mike swore when he saw Kurt, instantly kneeling and running his hand down his torso. Kurt jolted when his fingers brushed over his middle, letting out a pained yelp.
"I need bandages. For everyone, Brittany too. Finn, Sam, can you two search the bus for me?" Finn nodded and Sam quickly followed pursuit, climbing back into the bus. Sam hadn't realized before how horribly it smelled of thick, new blood when he had woken up in here before. He shuddered and tried to breathe through his mouth as he searched for the bandages.
"Will sheets work?" Sam held up white bedding sheets from Artie's suitcase. Finn shrugged.
"I-I... Maybe. Bring them to Mike, I'll keep looking." He said desperately.
Sam nodded and exited the bus as quickly as he could, running over to Mike, Blaine, and Kurt. Mike had stripped off Kurt's bloody shirt, leaving him bare. There were less cuts than Sam had expected, but his middle was bruised black and yellow. It looked like he had been hit by a truck, or when Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi had gotten into that lightsaber battle, leaving Anakin basically dead.
He really, really hoped Kurt wouldn't turn into some kind of gay Vader.
"Will these work, Mike?" Sam held up the sheets and the doctor-in-training nodded.
"Tear them into strips." He ordered, applying pressure to Kurt's middle, making him cry out in his sleep. Blaine clutched his husband's hand tightly, his own arm's shaking lightly as Sam tore apart the sheets, giving them to Mike.
"Blaine, keep pressure here, okay?" Blaine nodded and replaced Mike's hand as he wrapped the sheets tightly around Kurt's entire middle, covering down to his abdomen, and just below his nipples. Sam tried not to flinch each time Kurt whined or yelped in pain.
"He'll be fine, it's just going to hurt a lot for a few days." He assured Blaine, who nodded breathlessly. Sam put a hand on his best friend's shoulder weakly, not able to do anything else. Blaine didn't respond.
"What's Puck got?" Mike asked, and Sam looked up. Puck was carrying something big, wrapped in his army jacket.
"Oh my god, is that a body?" Blaine whispered, sending chills through Sam's spine.
It was. And people gathered around him, the ones who were awake, anyways, as Puck set a lifeless Rory Flanagan in the grass. No one said a word, just stared silently at the boy- body.
"Who else is in the bus?" Rachel finally said. Sam hadn't noticed her until now, but her face was cut up, and she smelled slightly of vomit.
"We don't know." Puck responded flatly.
"How are we going to get out of here?"
"I don't know."
"Where's Mr. Shue-"
"Goddammit Rachel, we don't know." Finn snapped, glaring at her. She opened her mouth, and then closed it, her eyes filling with tears.
"Puck, come help me with the people in the bus." Sam quickly said, covering the awkward silence that followed. "Mike, go fix Britt up, and Rachel, you help Mike with whatever he needs. Why don't..." Sam took a deep breath and scanned the people around him. There were half as many as this morning. "Uh, Lauren and Sugar, you two start a search party, find everyone. Quinn, you and Blaine can gather everyone who needs medical attention. Next to Kurt, over there."
Everyone stared at him for a moment, and for a second he feared he was overstepping. But finally, people started moving. Puck followed Sam into the bus, where they found Tina, Brittany, Joe, and Artie. Artie's legs were banged up from his chair, which was nowhere in sight, and Joe had a massive bump on his head. The two boys carried their friends out, setting Joe beside Kurt and the rest in the shade. He stopped for a moment to watch Brittany, sobbing into Santana's chest as Mike wrapped her arm, before walking away again. He had no time for sympathy.
"Sam?" Quinn said softly behind him, and he jumped slightly before turning to face her. Her eyes were red.
"We... Found Mr. Shuester and... He's not breathing."
Sam's chest clenched and he sucked in a breath. No time for sympathy.
"Cover him up then... Make... Make sure he's..."
Quinn nodded and walked away. Sam stared after her, blinking.
He's not breathing. Mr. Shue had four kids and a wife at home. What were they supposed to do now that he was gone?
Not to mention, he expected Will to take over as leader when they had found him, alive and well. Sam couldn't continue to be leader, he wasn't smart enough. Sure, everyone had followed him, and things were going smoothly, considering. Maybe Finn will take over.
Kitty was found on the other side of the bus. She wasn't hurt besides the fact that her hand was missing a finger.
God. Sam hated that that was considered a minor injury to him now.
They lined all of the wounded up and Mike Chang tended to everyone, using sheets, aspirin, and water to the best of his abilities. Brittany and Kurt seemed to have had it worst, though no one really knew how bad Tina and Joe's head injuries were until they woke up. Santana was cradling a sleeping Brittany, her arm in an awkward, makeshift sling. Sugar and Puck were attempting a fire, and Blaine had Kurt's head in his lap, while Finn sat beside him, glancing at the small boy worriedly every other second. They looked truly, undeniably, broken.
Sam sat beside Blaine and ran his fingers through his hair for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day.
"Sam, let me see your hand." Mike said, taking it out of his lap and opening his palm. Sam had forgotten all about the cut, too worried about everyone else's far bigger, worse injuries.
"Don't waste bandage, I'll live."
Mike tutted. "It'll get infected. I have to."
Sam gave in and looked at Blaine. He had his head against a tree, his eyes closed as he mindlessly played with Kurt's hair. "How is he? Did he wake up yet?"
Blaine opened his eyes and looked at his friend. Sam could only describe the hazel color as one thing now; Tired.
"No... He's... Just sleeping..." Blaine responded. Sam nodded, a lump in his throat.
"Mike Chang said he'd be fine." His voice cracked when he spoke.
"Yeah."
"Okay, uh... Hey, team, listen." Sam stood and swallowed slightly. "It's- It's probably not good for us to stay here- since- since the air is so... Like... Bomb chemical-y. So, first thing tomorrow morning, we're going to try to tip the bus upright. I had Finn check the engine- Thank you Finn- And it should be working, thank god. So... Make yourselves beds, people should probably share, and uh... Good work." Sam said, trying to word it how Will would have. But he wasn't Will, and this wasn't a glee club meeting.
Everyone looked at each other silently, before Sugar raised her hand.
"Yeah, Sugar?"
"Why don't we just tip the bus up now? I don't want to grow an extra arm because of radiation or something." She shuddered and everyone silently nodded in agreement.
"So... Okay, yeah... Uh, Finn, Puck, Lauren, Mike, Blaine, and I will each take a section of the bus. The rest of you spread out in between us, unless you're hurt. Or if someone who is hurt is sleeping on you." He gestured to Santana, who smiled at him thankfully. Everyone stood and positioned themselves at the side of the bus.
"One... Two... Three!"
Everyone grunted and groaned as they shoved, pulled, and prodded at the bus. After a few grueling minutes, the bus started to tip, and slammed to the ground. The sound of glass shattering sounded loudly, causing almost everyone to flinch. Thankfully, the windshield only had a few cracks in it, and stayed intact. A few people cheered and high-fived. Most just looked tired.
"Alright. Good, team. Now... Anyone know how to drive a bus?"


Coming up: ROAD TRIP! Still overprotective Blaine and Finn, Sam is a good leader, and TWINKIES! :D (This story is too dark for the :D face.)