Here's chapter three! I would still love your awesome feedback, guys! ;D Really appreciating your effort. :]

Enjoy!

Chapter three – Sam

So I've told Puck yesterday.

Sam was sitting in front of his laptop again. It had started to be a normal routine to him; at day he would go to school, acting like nothing was wrong and at night he would chat.

That's great, Sam. How did he react?

He was chatting with the same boy who had told him about the cutting-thing. That might seem strange, but he actually liked the guy. Yes, the one he was talking to was a guy. A gay guy, actually, and Sam had talked to him almost every night since two weeks or so. His name's Sean and he's a little older than Sam expected him to be; twenty-six. Sam knows it should've bothered him the guy was ten years older than he is, but it didn't. Sean had really shown interest in him and he kind of made Sam feel good about himself. He would listen to his rambling about how much he had started to hate himself and cheered him up when that had made him feel down again. He had mentioned a couple of times to meet up, but Sam found himself too scared to actually go through with it.

The second time they had talked on the chat was purely coincidental. Sam had taken the same name he had the first time he got on – something he normally didn't do – and Sean was actually online to look for him. He wanted to apologize for giving Sam that extreme advise. He had told Sam he was having a weak moment himself, but that he had regretted it the moment he said it. That was also the reason why he, so suddenly, had gone offline that first time.

Sam had forgiven him and Sean had told a little bit about himself. When he was around Sam's age, he had the same feelings Sam's having now. He even got diagnosed with manic-depressive disorder. Sam could almost perfectly relate to the symptoms Sean was giving him, so Sam had started to assume he was depressed too, even though he didn't know for sure. Sean had told him that he got rid of it for the most part, but that he sometimes was having a fallback, referring to the night they first chatted.

Good, actually, I hadn't expected that, well, kind of. Puck was really okay with it, it didn't bother him, that surprised me. But I did expect that he wouldn't talk with me about it, and he didn't. So yeah…

It was true. Sam was happy about the fact that Puck had been so cool about his coming out, but he found it disappointing that it hadn't started a conversation between them. It was almost like Puck had two different sides; one being the familiar "Puckasaurus", who didn't take crap from anyone and wasn't scared to kick someone's face in, and the other one, a much more kinder and more caring side. The last one was the side of Puck which had caused Sam to crack. It was also the side of Puck that had told him the truth about his dad. Sam really liked Puck in that moment and he was sad when the "Puckasaurus" was taking the upper hand again. The nice bubble, created by their trust and security, had popped and Sam had found himself feeling that loneliness he had gotten used to over the past year.

I'm sorry to hear that, Sam, but you know… People who aren't like us, won't understand us. They just don't get where we're coming from and they don't really care.

A wave of sadness washes over Sam, catching him off guard.

I guess you're right…

Sam fumbled with the ends of his sleeves, his gaze going at the window, play backing the lyrics of one of Simple Plan's songs with his mouth. The soft lightning of a streetlight silently illuminating his sight. A sigh slipped through his lips as the music in his ears died down.

Don't be sad, Sam. That's why you've got me. :]

Sam smiled a little at Sean's comment, feeling the ghost of Puck's hand in his, like his friend had hold it yesterday. He suddenly felt the need of being with someone. Just anyone. Just not alone.

Where did you live again? Sam asked therefore.

Haha, just a twenty minute drive away. We could meet up if you want to.

Sam felt his hands getting sweatier. He trusted Sean, he really did, even though that probably made him naive, because how could you trust someone that you only knew through a computer screen, but he did. And he would really like someone's presence right now… His fingers hovered over the keyboard, formulating a response.

Some other time, okay? It's already getting late and I have school tomorrow.

Okay.

Please, don't be mad, I really want to meet you, but tonight's a little soon I guess…

I'm not mad, Sam, it's okay. I just would really like to meet you.

Sam felt the tension leave his body. Sean truly is a good guy, because if he wasn't, than he wouldn't let it go that easily.

Thanks. You're sweet. And I want to meet you too. He types.

No, I'm not, I just understand. ;]

Sam smiles at his laptop. It felt so nice talking to him, it was so easy. He decides to compliment Sean back, giving him some reassurance.

Haha. :] To be honest, I can't wait to actually see you and to… I don't know… Maybe it's too soon, but… To hold your hand and stuff…

Sam clenches his jaw when he hears the voice inside his head laugh at him. Holding hands? Seriously Sam? Sean's twenty-six, he probably passed that border ages ago. And even if he hadn't done that with someone, why the hell would he be interested in doing that with you?

It's not too soon. ;] But just holding hands…? Make that feeling my arms lock around you.

Sam's mind immediately brought him back to his night with Puck. He had felt so safe with his head on Puck's shoulder, only imaging doing it with Sean made him…

But they would never meet, the voice in Sam's head convinced him, because Sam was too much of a crybaby. He would never decide to take the small risk and let himself experience something he was so eager to experience. He sucked in his bottom lip and his eyes went to the drawer under his desk. He considered making the small the voice in his head shut up again, when he noticed Sean was typing something.

Well, you're not responding at that and I can take a hint, so, good night, Sam. I'm off to bed. :]

Sam shocked when he read that sentence and Sean's status switched to offline. He started cursing himself for his dyslexia, causing him to not being able to read any faster and thereby causing to have less time to respond. He wanted to kick himself for being so insecure about every little thing and he most certainly wanted to make the voice in his head disappear, because this was one of the many times it had screwed things up.

He felt himself getting frustrated again, turning the volume on his laptop possibly louder, while a flood of thoughts raged through his head. Before he even realized it, his arm was bleeding again, a mix of good and bad feelings swimming through his veins.

But his head was being silent again.

Sam was starting to feel more alone every day. After their conversation, Puck had decided, one again, to keep some distance. He probably thought that Sam hadn't noticed the first time, but he had. He accepted it though. The first time was after their friendly fight, ending with having Puck's muscular body on top of him… Stop thinking about Puck's body as muscular, you sound like a creep. And now Sam had told him his secret. Sam figured it apparently had made Puck feeling uncomfortable after all, because he was all over Quinn again.

But Sam could handle Puck's fading the first time, because he had Sean to talk to. Only this time, he hasn't. Sam had been on the chat every night for a week now and Sean hadn't shown himself. Why did he have to screw everything up like that? Every. Fucking. Time. Did he had a thing for it or something?

Suddenly, the familiar, white icon popped up at his screen and Sam clicked it as fast as he possibly could.

Hey Sam.

Sam typed as fast as he could, scared that Sean might go offline again.

Sean! O my god, finally! I'm so sorry for the last time we spoke, I was caught up in my thoughts, so I forget to respond. I'm sorry, I know how it must've looked…

His foot was nervously tapping the floor.

It's okay. I overreacted and forget to tell you I was going out of town for business, so I didn't had any time to chat.

Sam let out a relieved sigh. It's okay. Sean's not mad and he just wasn't able to talk to him. Everything's okay.

Don't bother, it's fine. :] Hey! I started thinking and figured this way to talk to each other really sucked. So do you have Skype?

At least Sam's depression hadn't clouded his cleverness. He had been so sad this week and the chat really wasn't helping him at all. Every time he heard the sound of a new message being sent to him he had been disappointed, because it was someone else on the chat trying to start a conversation with him, and Sam wasn't interested in that.

Why haven't I thought of that? I sure do! Here you are:

A couple of minutes later Sam and Sean were chatting via Skype, Sam slightly getting more comfortable at realizing this was a step further in their virtual friendship.

You never told me you've got a cam! Sean typed.

Sam smiled, but felt the nerves creeping into his body again. He had forgotten that Skype could show Sean that. This could only lead to one thing…

Yeah, I do. :]

Can you put it on?

There it was. It shouldn't be a big deal to him, but it was. What if Sean saw him and his appearance would scare him away? Then he would lose him for good and, giving the past week, he didn't like that at all. Of course you'll scare him away, the voice in his head sounded.

Sure.

It felt good to go against his head at times, but it still didn't make him feel less nervous. He saw his webcam loading and hold his breath when he saw his face pop up on the screen.

Wow. Sean said.

Good or bad? Sam asked, clenching his fists tensely.

Sam, you're hot… Damn…

He felt his body relaxing and his cheeks reddening a little. Good thing his webcam's quality wasn't that amazing to show that.

Suddenly his door flew open and Sam's heart skipped a beat, staring at his doorway.

"Hey man, how've you been?"

"Puck…" Sam said confused, his voice barely audible.

Seriously, was everything getting better at once again? Could it really be?

"Hey dude, I'm great, thanks," Sam stumbles, grabbing himself together.

"Yeah?" Puck pointed at his laptop, walking towards him, "what you're doing?"

Sam quickly turned to slam his screen down, but Puck was a little faster, firmly holding it.

"Are you camming? With a dude?" he gives his friend a weird look, "and he told you that you look hot…"

Sam notices Puck's voice getting lower at his last sentence. Tension filled the room and for a moment Sam thought he had caught a glimpse of something that looked like jealousy.

"What's his name?" Puck scraped his voice, regaining his coolness again.

"Sean…"

"You've never mentioned him before?"

Who's that?

Instead of answering Puck's question first, Sam's fingers turned to his keyboard.

Puck.

Ah, your best friend! Hey Puckerman, how are you?

"But you have told him about me, apparently," Puck mumbles, faking a smile and waving at the screen.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, he's really nice though," Sam says, trying to not be intimidated by Puck's attitude about it, "he's gay too."

"I see. And how old is our new best friend?" Puck scoffs.

"He's not my new best friend. I just happen to talk to him very often and he's a really good guy," Sam stumbles offended.

"Don't avoid the question."

"Twenty-six," Sam whispers.

He could see Puck clenching his jaw, biting his tongue inside his mouth.

"And have you two already met?"

"Not yet, but we're going to."

"Yeah, don't think so," Puck decides, irritatingly looking at the screen.

Talk to you later, okay? Sam closes his conversation with Sean, instantly shutting down his webcam.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"That you're not going to meet him," Puck smiled at him, slightly pissing Sam off.

"And who are you to tell me that?" he shot.

"Your best friend, you moron," Puck pokes Sam's forehead with his finger, "even a six year-old could tell he's trying to get into your pants."

Sam wipes Puck's index finger of his head and stands up, feeling the need to move his body as he's getting upset.

"How can you say that? You don't even know him like I do!"

"Jesus Christ, Sam, don't be a girl about this, you know I'm right."

Sam winces at Puck's insult. Why was he being such a dick about this?

"I guess Sean was right about people like you not taking the time to understand me," he mumbles softly, gazing to the ground.

"What did he say?" Puck almost ran closer to Sam, grabbing his chin and holding his head up, but not in a hurtful kind of way.

"You heard me," Sam snorts, secretly enjoying that he's hurting Puck, "you don't care about me. You only care about your stupid self and about Quinn."

"I'm sorry? I don't care about you?" Puck coldly repeats, "fuck you, dude! I was being a total bro to ya when you told me about you being gay."

He whispers the last word, reminding himself of the fact that Sam's parents are downstairs.

"Yeah, and then you kept your distance from me. Again," Sam shoots back.

Puck seemed put off by that and lets go of Sam's chin, gazing away. Sam can see Puck's appearance changing again, feeling a little relieved.

"Sam… That wasn't about you being gay," Puck now looks intensely at him and Sam notices the hazel again.

"Well, then what was?" Sam asks.

"I can't tell you. It doesn't matter," Puck answers, "but I'm sorry for giving you that feeling."

Sam can feel his chest tighten at Puck's apology, it really means something to him, considering he had almost never heard Puck say that.

"You're really sure it's not because of me?" Sam asks for the last time, "because if it is, Puck, you should just tell me…"

"It's not."

Sam let's a out a deep breath, feeling relieved.

"And I would've hugged you, right now," Sam can see the Puckasaurus is back again, "but I told you; it was a one-time thing."

He winks at him and Sam just has to laugh, not at the ridiculous nickname this time.

"And if you're gonna meet that… Sean… You're telling me when it'll be and where you guys will be going, deal?"

"Deal," Sam nods, actually happy with the pact, it made him feel a little more confident about actually meeting Sean.

"Great, because if something would happen to you, I would never forgive myself."

"That's not something the Puckasaurus would say," it's out of Sam's mouth before he realizes it and he wants to bang his head against the wall for it.

Puck blinks a couple of times at him, looking surprised and confused. He slides a hand through his mohawk and turns around the room awkwardly.

"Now give me that comic I still had to finish."

The rest of the evening Sam and Puck spent hanging out at his bedroom, just reading comics and playing videogames. In that time Sam's mind has stayed clear of awful thoughts and voices. Spending time with his best friend always had that effect on him, but now he had actually realized that. Their conversations were light and mostly revolved around all-day activities like school and hobbies.

A knock on the door caused them to pause the game they were playing, Sam still owning Puck, and Sam's mother's poking her head around the corner, smiling genuinely.

"Sam, sweety, your dad and I are off to bed. Puck should probably go home too," she instructs them.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Sam nods, looking swiftly at Puck while he does, "sleep tight."

"You too."

"Good night, ma'am," his best friend smiles.

"Drive safely, Puck," Sam's mother responds. Sam could see Puck's kindness intrigued her. She turned on her heel to walk out of the room, but came back, seeming to have reminded something.

"Oh, and Sam," she continues, "keep in mind that your father and I will be away for a couple of days, next week. I'll make sure that enough groceries will be in the house, so that you don't have to buy them yourself."

"Thanks, mom."

The door closed with a soft click and Sam shut down his X-BOX 360.

"Your mom's really nice," Puck breaks the silence.

"Yeah, I guess she is," Sam responds, "a little too nice sometimes."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, she always sees the best in people and that's not a bad thing, but it sometimes makes her a little naïve," he explains.

"So I guess you inherited that from her," Sam gave Puck a confused look, not understanding what he meant by that, "you know, about the whole meeting Sean stuff."

Sam rolled his eyes shortly, annoyed with the fact that Puck brought it up again.

"Puck, let it go, I already promised you that I will tell you when and where, if it happens."

"Just wanted to hear you say that one more time," Puck smiled and Sam read the soft and protective look in his eyes. Puck stared back into his and for a moment they didn't speak. Right when Sam started feeling awkward, noticing the intimate atmosphere in the room, Puck suddenly breaks their gaze. Had he felt it too?

"Well, I should be going then," he muttered.

Probably not. Puck stood up and stretched his back, probably aching from sitting on the floor the whole night. Sam did the same thing, before dawdling behind Puck down the stairs. He waved goodbye when Puck's truck pulled up.

When Sam was back in his room, the loneliness closed his tight grip around him again. He instantly felt himself getting sad and decided he didn't want to go to bed already, so like he now did almost every night, opened his laptop. When he had logged onto Skype, he saw Sean was still online.

Hey! What ya' doing? Sam typed.

Nothing much, couldn't sleep. Had fun with Puck tonight?

Sam smiled at Sean's response, glad that he apparently wasn't the only one not wanting to lay down yet.

Yeah, it was okay. Just the usual hanging out.

Sam, can I ask you something?

Sam swallowed curiously at the sudden change in the conservation they just had started.

Of course.

I got the feeling Puck wasn't too happy when he saw our conversation earlier, was it just me or…?

Sam sighed, hating that Sean had noticed. He really wanted them to get along eventually and this first impression certainly wouldn't help him with that, but he also didn't want to lie to Sean.

Yeah, I'm sorry… I guess he's just a little protective sometimes. I told him about you and that we were thinking of meeting up sometime and Puck let me promise to him that I would tell him when and where if we did.

Seriously?

Yeah…

Sam was now nervously tapping his fingers on his desk. It's weird that people can get tense because of a virtual talk.

That's kind of insulting. But I get it… Considering he only knows me through you and you only know me through a computer screen, but are you really going to text him every half an hour, when we meet up? I mean, come on, you're not a child anymore.

Sam thought about that for a minute. Sure it wouldn't hurt to let Puck know where he was and if he was doing okay every now and then, but it sure made him feel like he was ten years-old or something.

Meh, I'll think about it, but before I forget! Our meet-up could be planned next week, if you want to. I'm home alone for a few days, so maybe you wanna come over by then? We could watch a movie or something.

I don't know, Sam… What would your neighbors think when they see a slightly old male leaving your house late at night?

You're not old! But maybe you're right.

Haha, thanks. We'll figure something out.

A fuzzy feeling spreads around his chest when Sam – for yet another time – thinks about how great Sean is. He really takes his feelings into consideration and doesn't push him at all.

Like, you could come to my house?

But, there was Sam's anxiety again, making his body shiver, trying to shake it off.

Awesome! We'll agree on the time in a few days, okay? Because I don't know how school will turn out that week.

Sounds great.

A few days passed in which Sam's left arm really got to bother him. When he slid his fingers across his scars he somehow felt smaller and protected, which was making him feel slightly more confident. It was like no one and nothing in the world could hurt him, because he was already causing the hurt himself and that made him feel like he was control, like feeling worthless had a limit. And when reminding himself of his self-harm didn't work, he thought about suicide. It wasn't like he considered it, it just soothed him to know he always had a way out. Even though it was kind of an extreme one.

He also perfectly understood thinking of that stuff wasn't normal, but he didn't mind. Like Sean had said: "If it stays at thoughts, it couldn't hurt." So that was what Sam intended. Not implementing that his thoughts actually were he hurt.

He did realize the constant fight between himself and his mind was draining him. He couldn't keep up with his schoolwork and found it hard to focus. His nights were getting heavier and getting a good rest had become more difficult, resulting in ugly, dark sacks forming under his eyes.

Sam had even started to think that the voice in his head was sometimes taking over his body. On one particular night he had gotten so scared that… It's just that; usually one quick shock of pain would get him back to his normal self, but that night he had needed several. It freaked him out and because of that particular event, Sam knew he was slipping away even further, but he had pushed that feeling away. It worked, most of the days, but was it was getting harder when Puck actually started talking to him more often. It wasn't like their conversations had any more immersion, but Puck certainly tried to verify if Sam was doing okay more and more.

It probably had to do with their last argument. Puck was still hanging around Quinn and Sam didn't like that at all. He didn't exactly know why, it just bothered him. Sam had felt the urge to walk right through them when they were walking down the hallways, laughingly holding hands, and he wanted to punch Puck in the face every time he smiled at most likely, Sam wanted Puck to talk to him. Sean was great, Sam could really out himself to him, but it wasn't enough. He needed a real person. He needed Puck. Puck's hand holding his, his strong arms around him, the familiar scent of his cologne, telling him it was okay. It always was when he was with Puck.

So, Sam had slipped his jealous words one time, which earned him a confused look from Puck, which resulted in Sam trying to start a conversation, getting Puck to try and ended with Sam getting frustrated when Puck couldn't keep up with what he was saying. And now he was rambling, great. Let's just say it isn't worth explaining, because you would read a part you've already read, referring to the locker-room scene of a few weeks ago.

Anyway, rain had started pouring down onto the football field and Beiste had called it a day. Sam quickly changed clothes – he never showered at school anymore nowadays – because tonight was the night he would go over to Sean's house, gaining a slight chance to sooth his hunkering emotions. He looked at Puck getting undressed, leaving his dirty football outfit on the floor. Sam studied his pecks, his abs, licked his dry lips doing so.

"Dude, are you alright?" Puck pulled him out of his thoughts.

Sam turns around promptly, kind of embarrassed , had Puck notice him staring?

"Yeah, fine," Sam faked a smile.

Puck gave him a weird look.

"You sure? You look a little tense today… Something exciting coming up?"

Sam had considered telling Puck about his plans with Sean tonight, but had decided not to. Puck probably wouldn't let him go to Sean's house and Sam really didn't want to get into another fight with his best friend.

"Not at all," Sam responded, "do you have?"

Puck grinned sneakily at him.

"Quinn invited me over to her house tonight," he said, "she just told me in the hallway that if I came, we would totally get it on,"

Sam clenches his jaw, disgusted by the picture in his mind. Puck's naked body hovering over Quinn's just made him feel like…

"Nice, dude, have fun," Sam responds, trying to withhold his anger, because he should really stop this obsessing over Puck.

The rest of the afternoon Sam couldn't get rid of the image of Puck and Quinn, even if he wanted it so badly. After an hour of confusing thoughts and the voice in his head putting him off again, Sam had turned to the liquor cabinet of his dad's. He didn't to want mess up his body right before going over to Sean and his parents wouldn't be back for another three nights, so he figured he had plenty of time coming up with a good excuse. That if his dad would ever notice, because Sam only took one glass, bearing in mind that he had to drive tonight.

Walking upstairs, a glass of Jack Daniels cola in his hand, he started to try focus on his own evening with Sean. The thought of it excited him and kind of made him feel tough, because he was taking a slight risk – it wasn't really one though, because he knew Sean – but it felt good stepping out of his comfort zone for one time.

When his laptop had started, he automatically opened Skype.

Sam! I'm so happy that you're online!

Sam smiled when he read Sean's name above the message. He accepted the invitation Sean had immediately send him, turning on his webcam. He really had gotten more comfortable with it.

Hey! What's up?

I just wanted some time to talk to you. You know, before you're here and stuff. :]

Haha, that's okay.

So how are you feeling?

Sam took another sip from his glass, calming his nerves a little.

Mostly excited, but honestly, also panicking a little.

Why's that? It's me, you know me.

Sam really didn't want to admit to himself that he was scared of the idea of he and Sean, a gay guy who seemed to like him, in the same room. What if Sean tried to get something on with him? It's not like he hadn't thought about it, but imaging Sean's hands running over his body made him feel really insecure.

But what if the moment comes up and we start to… You know… Do things…?

So what?

I still feel like crap about my appearance and stuff, Sean…

Sam sighed deeply, the voice in his head on the front of his mind again. Another gulp of Jack trying to shut him up.

Sam, don't even think like that. You have a really sweet face and I'm pretty sure the rest of your body is nice, too.

You don't know that.

Then show me!

Sam shocked and gazed at himself on the screen.

I don't know…

It surely would take the edge off of things. Wait, I know, do you still need to get changed?

Sam swallowed his dry throat and looked down at his sweatpants. He really did need to change… He looked into the webcam and nodded slowly.

Then just go do your thing! I won't say a thing about it and you won't have to be nervous anymore. :]

My god, Sam, do you really need to make everything in your life a big deal? Just pull out a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt, take off your Sunday-clothing and put them on.

Sam inched his laptop, giving Sean a clear view of his room. He stood up, walking towards his closet, his heart heavily throbbing in his chest. He chooses the clothes he wants to wear and puts them down on the bed. With his back turned to his computer screen, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. Sam tries to breath normally when his thumbs slid under the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down in one quick motion. Okay, he was in his boxers now, in front of a webcam. In front of Sean.

He turned on his heel and instantly saw himself through the webcam. A weird feeling in his stomach grew, the voice in his head laughing loudly at him. He felt exposed, small, even a little disgusted with himself. Sam didn't know why, but he felt so wrong.

Damn… Sam… You're fucking hot! he read Sean's typed words.

Do you dare to come up front and pull your boxers down a little? Just for me?

Sam's mouth fell open because of disbelieve.

What? Sean, seriously… I don't know I want that.

Oh come on, Sam! Don't be such a wimp! You're practically naked already!

Sam's eyes widened, his breath faltering in his throat, the voice in his head almost dying of laughter. Was Sean really saying these things…? Panic shot through Sam's veins and he quickly slammed his laptop closed. The oxygen in his lungs returned and he started to breath heavily. He chugged his glass down, trying to calm himself. Why had he been so dumb? Puck had been right all along, Sean really only did want to get into his pants… How could he had even start to think Sean's intentions were okay? He was nothing to him. He was nothing to anyone. Nobody cared about him. He was a puppet, that if people got hold of the strings of, they could do anything with him.

Tears started running down from Sam's eyes, finally letting them pour, but refusing to sob. His eyes get pulled towards the drawer in his desk and Sam closes his eyes for a brief moment. Considering meeting Sean isn't going to happen tonight, no, wait, scrap that. Meeting Sean is never going to happen, not after this. Sam felt his stomach churn when he noticed he was still standing in his boxers. He quickly pulled on his sweatpants and shirt again and absentmindedly grabbed the scissors out of his drawer. The familiar feeling of the shape of them in his hand gave him that feeling of being in control.

He looked at his empty glass and decided to not care anymore. He ran downstairs, straight to the cabinet, and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels. But looking at the objects in his hands suddenly shocked him. He put them down on the dinner table and searches his phone in his pocket.

Puck, can you come over?

The water in his eyes blurred his vision again. Clenching the electronic device, he really hoped Puck could. His heart skipped a beat when he felt a buzz in his hand.

Dude, I already told you, I'm at Quinn's tonight.

The world around Sam fell silent as he reached towards the table again. The thought that nobody cared got confirmed. At least he still had his mind-easing stuff, stuff that he could tell all his feelings to, and wouldn't judge him. A quiet sob escaped his body when he realized his best friends were a pair of scissors and a bottle of alcohol. He walked into the living room, dropping himself on the couch, while chewing on the opening of the bottle, the scissors grabbed tightly in his hand.

He wanted out. Not out of the closet, but out of the house. Away from these feelings, away from these thoughts. Sam stood up from the sofa, taking a second to regaining his balance again. He had a weird taste in his mouth and his head pounded. The empty bottle on the floor explained a lot and Sam bent down to pick it up. That's when he noticed the scratches on his arm.

Yup, he needed to get out.

He stumbled out the front door, not caring enough to bring a jacket with him. The cold slammed him in the face and his gaze fell onto his car. He shakes his head walking past it, at least he was sober enough to know it wasn't a good idea to take a drive right now.

He just wanted to walk around the dark neighborhood. It was probably already late, because there were almost no lights on inside the houses surrounding him. He scrapes against a car, parked half on the sidewalk. Sam curses softly as he feels a stinging pain going up his arm, apparently one of his wounds got scratched open and blood started rushing down again. The alcohol had diluted it and it started dripping off his fingertips. He smiled at himself, feeling the need to laugh off the fact he was a pathetic human-being. At least this way the only thing he had to do to get rid of himself was keep walking. He would eventually die because of losing too much blood.

Death; the word echoed through his mind. His final and ultimate way out, but at the same time the most scary one.

Why should he stay, though? It wasn't like anybody had taken the time to notice that he really wasn't doing well. His parents hadn't asked anything, Sean had screwed him over and Puck was too busy trying to conceive another fuck-up with Quinn, so why care?

Why hadn't he thought of this before? It was clear logic. Probably because he was too dumb to do so, just too stupid. What was he even doing on this planet?

Sam stopped his moving when he felt the touch of soft grass coming through the soles of his shoes. He blinked a couple of times and recognized the football field of McKinley High. The field where he had played on for what felt like forever. Not that he was good at it, he wasn't good anything, so it had just been another waste of time. Yes, his life was a waste.

He gazed up to one of the lampposts on one of the corners of the field. His mind went numb again, the voice in his head taking over his body, as he started running towards it.

In one swift motion he was hanging on one of the steel bars, serving as stairs. He pulled himself up and started climbing, anxiously sucking in his bottom lip. When he reaches the top he sucks in a deep breath, carefully trying to stand up on the small platform. The wind sweeps his blond hair out of his bloodshot eyes, his gaze turning down, swallowing at the height.

One step, Sam, and it could all be over. One step away from all this pain. Just one tiny little step forward… He lifted his right foot, holding it above the nothingness beneath him. It seemed so easy, he just had to put it down, imagining that he was just strolling down the street, foot by foot. Step by step… One step…

"Sam!" Sam shocks at the calling of his name and starts to stumble. He quickly steadies himself and gazes down on the football field, but his eyes can't focus because of the alcohol.

"Sam! Are you fucking insane! Get the fuck down here!" the voice sounded again.

"Puck?" Sam feels like reality is hitting him in his face. He suddenly realizes how scared he is of being up here and tries not to move an inch.

"Please, Sam, it's gonna be okay!" Puck shouts again, his hands apparently near his mouth, trying to make his voice sound louder.

Puck's telling him he's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. Puck says so. Puck is here. Puck cares.

"Please, don't do something stupid…"

"I don't dare to climb back down again!" Sam yells, "I don't even remember how I got here."

Fear wrapped tightly around his heart, a shot of ice cold panic pumping through his veins. Please, not now, he really needed to keep his calm right now. Please.

"Just slowly bow through your knees and put your hands on the ground beside you!" he hears Puck's instruct him.

Sam nods, not that Puck could see it, and starts bending down. He keeps his gaze up front when he feels his hands touch the platform beneath him, trying to not look down.

"Okay, Sam, now just put one foot on the bar and start climbing."

Sam points out his left foot and after half his leg is down, he feels the steel bar. He braces himself, his hands trying to find some grip onto the platform, putting his other foot down.

Standing on the first bar, he releases a deep breath, steeling his nerves while beginning on his journey to the safe ground.

"You're doing great, Sam! Just take your time," Puck's voice encourages him.

Sam smiles, but thereby, looses focus. The alcohol had almost numbed his fingers, so he really had to concentrate on his grip. Sam's foot slips away. And also his hand. And his other hand. And his last foot.

"Sam!"

Puck's voice covers his whole mind as Sam feels the cold air around him. He has nothing to hold onto anymore, literally. Tears form in the corner of his eyes as he gazes upon the stars. He's falling. He's going to die.

Just when he realizes he doesn't want to.