Summary: Ghosts haunt Sam as he gathers information on The Threat
Notes: It made sense to have a short set-up chapter before completely diving in, so there will be 7 "episodes" instead of 6 like the Bodyguard Series.
"Artie! Get out of the way!"
He could see himself running and pushing Artie as the missile exploded the side of the building. He could hear Jake and Ryder yelling his name as the rubble crashed down on him. He could feel pain so overwhelming he started to slip into darkness…
"Hey, there."
It was the voice of an angel that brought him back. "I can't move."
"That's what happens when hundreds of pounds of rubble falls on you, silly."
He managed to open his eyes and saw the face of his angel. "Blaine, what are you doing here?"
"I'm here to remind you this is only a nightmare. You are safe and so are your men."
"Artie…"
"Is hurt but you saved his life. Sam, it's time for you to wake-up."
Sam had had this dream hundreds of times but this time something was different. Even though he was aware the dream was over, he couldn't move. Adrenaline began to kick in as he opened his eyes…to the face of his angel. Blaine was sound asleep, pressed into his side with his head on his chest. He looked so peaceful Sam momentarily thought this was a new dream. The intense tingling from his arm being asleep told him otherwise.
He reached for his phone and sighed when he saw it was only 4AM. Hopping between time zones had screwed with his internal clock so he knew there was no way he was falling back to sleep. He managed to slide out from under Blaine without waking him then took a moment to let the surrealness of the situation wash over him. As he gave in to the desire to brush a wayward curl off Blaine's forehead, he couldn't help but wonder…
Next time, would his dream angel be the put-together boy from his past or the obviously fractured man in his bed?
He had taken a shower the night before but couldn't resist taking another. It was the best shower he ever had. There were at least 20 shower heads and they hit every part of his body in just the right way. Once the perfectly tempered water thoroughly soaked his skin, he twisted to look at (as much as possible) the permanent reminders of his night under the rubble. The scars on his back were ugly to say the least. Quinn had been repulsed by them, but that wasn't saying much. He wondered what Blaine would do if he saw them.
Nope, not going there
He got out and wrapped a towel around his waist, walking over to the mirror. When he wiped the steam, he was slightly thrown-off by what he saw. It was still hard to get used to seeing the longer hair and earring Sebastian insisted on. It supposedly gave him more of a rocker look. The facial hair was another of Sebastian's insistences but Sam agreed with this one. If he somehow got pictured with Blaine it would throw off anyone who might remember him from the train.
After getting dressed, he quietly went back to his bed table for his phone and gun. He also grabbed the file with the information Sebastian had put together for him. Those three items brought everything back into focus. He was there to protect Blaine from whoever wanted to hurt him. Nothing else mattered.
He went to the kitchen for a glass of juice, then back to the living area. Once settled on the couch he began separating the papers in the file into three stacks. The first was people aware of the threats…Santana, Cooper, Blaine's Head of Security, Manager and Assistant. Sebastian had personally cleared them but Sam had a few questions about the Assistant, especially since he wasn't mentioned as someone who could be on the bus.
Speaking of bus, he definitely had to clarify what that meant. It was a last-minute instruction and Sebastian had never mentioned anything about a tour. Plus, Blaine was such a big star, a bus tour didn't seem practical.
He put these papers back in the file, except the Assistant's information, and moved to the second stack. It was more like a report put together by Blaine's HOS (Robert) and Manager (Daniel). They cleared the other members of Blaine's security and then launched investigations into the people at the recording studio in NYC and at Daniel's office. They also looked into the staff at Blaine's family home in Ohio, even though none of them had access to the unused lyrics.
While a couple of leads had been interesting, they wound up going nowhere. That's when they realized The Threat (best to give your big bad a name…comic book 101) was an insider and he was brought in to deal with stack three...Blaine's band and crew, the head of his Official Fan Club, his mother and Sam's #1 and #1A suspects...Kurt and Rachel.
He didn't think either of them would hurt Blaine, but they weren't above manufacturing drama to benefit their agenda. He had watched them do it every day for 4 years of high school.
A clicking noise snapped Sam to attention but he relaxed when he realized it was the sound of Santana's signature high heels on the marble floor. "Ok, let's get this show on the road" she called out, officially announcing her arrival. When she reached the living area and saw Sam was the only one there, her previously upbeat mood did a 180. "If he's passed out drunk again…"
"Blaine's still asleep."
"You mean passed out."
Santana threw down her purse and headed towards Blaine's bedroom. "He's not there. He's in my room." Sam knew the moment the words were out of his mouth he had screwed up.
And he had. Just not in the way he expected.
"Hot damn!" The ankle-threatening shoes were kicked off and a few seconds later Santana plopped herself onto Sam's lap and began kissing his cheek repeatedly. "I…love…you…so…much!"
"No, you don't." He pushed her off and studied the Cheshire cat smile across her face to no avail. "What?"
"Oh, don't pretend with me, Sammy Boy. I was on the cheer squad with she who shall not be named. Don't worry. I was the only one she told and the bitch swore me to secrecy. I wouldn't have said anything anyway, you know that."
Shit! Sam got up and begun to pace, having to calm down. It didn't work. "You convinced Sebastian to drag me half-way around the world to fuck the guy I kissed 10 years ago?" he growled as a means to keep his voice under control. The last thing he needed was Blaine to walk in on this conversation. "I didn't…fuck, I mean…I mean we slept…Not the point! Are the death threats even real?"
"Oh my god, no, Sam. You know I could win an Olympic medal in saying the wrong thing. I swear I didn't even remember Quinn mentioning this until I saw your and Blaine's faces when I made the joke about the two of you doing the horizontal mambo. Everything you've been told is 100% on the up and up."
His bullshit detector was always on with Santana so he knew she was telling the truth, at least about this. "I believe you" Sam said as he sat back down on the couch. "But, I also believe there's more going on than I've been told. I don't know if this is some sort of test from Sebastian or you're hiding shit from him. Either case, you or whoever else has the answers needs to come clean right now. I can't do what I need to do without proper intelligence."
"Proper intelligence? You…Holy shit, Sam!"
Sam had Santana face first on the couch and his gun drawn, pointed directly at Blaine's Assistant…Mike Chang. "Damn it, you people need to learn how to announce yourselves! This isn't a fucking game!"
"Sorry" Mike was obviously still shaken, even with Sam reholstering his gun. Santana rushed to him and picked up the cane he dropped when he put his hands up. "I thought Tana would have told you I'd be here. Where's Blaine?"
Santana helped him to a chair with an ottoman so he could put his leg up. "We hadn't gotten that far and Blaine is still asleep."
"You mean passed out."
"Not according to Trouty. I'm going to go make some tea and call everyone to tell them we're running behind."
"Wait" Sam looked over to the bar, remembering the 3 bourbons Blaine had the night before. He hadn't thought he was drunk but…"Does Blaine have a drinking problem? It's important."
Mike shook his head "Blaine has a sleep problem as in he doesn't do it more than 3 or 4 hours a day, if that. Whenever he does sleep it's usually because he got drunk the night before. Honestly, he rarely drinks and when he does there's a trigger. I think we both assumed death threats from some unknown person in his inner circle would be one. If not that, seeing Sebastian is never good."
Sam looked at the bar again and made a decision. "Tana, when you call the house and talk to…" he picked up the paper for the woman who ran Blaine's family home in Ohio. "…Miss Rose, tell her to get rid of the booze."
"Fine, but when Mr. Grumpy Pants finds out I'm making sure he knows this was all you. And Trouty, hopefully in that file of yours there's something saying Miss Rose's daughter, Marley, is coming home to surprise Blainers. Don't shoot her."
With Santana out of the room, the awkwardness was palpable considering one of them had pulled a gun on the other not even 10 minutes earlier. Sam wasn't going to apologize. He had done what the situation called for but he wasn't above making the first move. "What happened to your knee?"
"Tore both my ACL and PCL."
"Well, you always were an overachiever." The comment got them both to laugh, lightening the mood. "It doesn't explain how you're Blaine's Assistant. It's kind of weird Blaine has 2 people from our Glee Club working for him when the only connection is Rachel. There's no way either of you got the job through her."
"I didn't. I auditioned for one of Blaine's early videos and he recognized me but didn't know from where. We talked and wound up getting along really well. When his last album dropped, he called about another video but…" Mike couldn't finish the thought. Sam understood way more than he was willing to admit.
"Anyway, he asked me to come and just hang out instead. One day his then assistant royally fucked up his schedule. I asked to take a look and had it fixed in 5 minutes. She was fired and I've been with Blaine ever since, except the last 2 weeks. I had another surgery on my knee and have been recovering at my parents. It was torture, staying with my parents more than surgery."
Sam was grateful he didn't have that problem. In fact, he had stayed with his parents a couple of times during his various recoveries instead of at home with Quinn.
What do they say about hindsight being 20/20?
Santana returning with the tea reminded him of something. "Mike, you said you didn't get your job from Rachel. Santana?"
"I assumed you knew" she said as she rejoined him on the couch. "The video went viral."
"Haven't had much access to YouTube in the places I've been lately."
"Oh, yeah. Sorry." She reached for her phone and began to scroll. "Long story short…I failed epically in LA, had to move back to Lima, got a job at Breadstix, been there a week when Hummel and Berry came in and began plotting ways to take advantage of Blaine's Grammy wins. I said some things, Rachel said some things, Kurt did that obnoxious snapping thing and…" She handed Sam her phone and he watched as she picked up a plate of spaghetti in each hand and proceeded to dump them on Kurt and Rachel's heads. "I was fired, of course, but the next day they were at my door with Blaine. He made them apologize then offered me a job handling his social media."
"That's amazing." Sam handed back her phone and was hit once again with the nagging feeling she was hiding something. "What aren't you telling me?"
"It's not Blaine, I swear." Santana paused a moment. After what happened earlier, she wanted to make sure she used the right words. "Me, Mike, Rachel, Kurt, we're not the only familiar faces you're going to see in Ohio."
"If you say Quinn or…"
"Artie"
The name was like a punch to the gut. "Artie?"
Santana reached across the space between them and held his hand. "Blaine met Tim McGraw a couple of years ago. He has a charity that builds homes for wounded warriors."
"I've heard about that but what…"
"Last year Tim challenged 50 celebrity friends to build one in their home state. Blaine accepted and asked me to find a deserving candidate. When I saw Artie's name on the short list, there was no other choice."
Sam felt a rush of relief hearing Artie was strong enough to move out of the hospital. He was so angry the last time they were together, but not at him, which made no sense considering he was the reason Artie was in a wheelchair. "Have you seen him?"
"Who do you think told me about you being such a kick-ass super soldier? He's the reason I thought of you when the idea of a bodyguard came up. He doesn't know that part but I told him I got you a job filling in as Blaine's guitar player. He's looking forward to seeing you."
"You…" Sam stopped when an adorably rumpled Blaine padded into view. No! Bad thoughts! "Good morning, Blaine" he said as professionally as possible.
"Why didn't someone wake me? We're 2 fucking hours behind! Oh, hi Mike."
Santana scooted closer to Sam while Blaine and Mike reconnected. "Please, just take one for the team and fuck his brains out."
Notes:
The Tim McGraw charity is based on Operation Homefront, an actual charity Tim is associated with that has given (or ADA adapted) homes to wounded soldiers since 2012.