What I Want
A/N: I wasn't planning to post this until the weekend, and I originally planned it to be a bit longer, but I think here is a good stopping point. I hope you guys enjoy it!
Chapter 10 – Therapy
**Then**
"I don't wanna go in!" Sebastian whined as he crossed his arms and refused to step out of the elevator.
"Sebastian, we are not having this conversation again," Quentin Smythe assured his nine-year-old son in a low, firm voice. "Come out, now."
"No!" Sebastian refused as he shot a petulant glare at his father and then pressed the 'door close' button in the elevator. His thirteen-year-old brother, Michael, quickly shot his arm between the doors stopping them from closing.
"Quit being a butthead," Michael chastised as he grabbed his brother by the front of the shirt and yanked him out of the elevator.
"I hate you!" Sebastian yelled into his brother's face, trying in vain to pull away from the stronger boy. "I hate you both!" he added with another scowl at his father when the man grabbed him by the arm and helped his older son pull Sebastian down the hallway and into the waiting room.
Quentin Smythe sighed and frowned. It had been nearly three months since Carolyn, his wife and the boys' mother, had passed away and he felt like he was at the end of his rope. Still grieving the loss of his wife, he had practically no idea how to even begin to be a primary caregiver to his sons, let alone help them through their own misery. His psychiatrist, Dr. Rowe, had recommended bringing the boys in for a group session and said that depending on the outcome perhaps they should then be referred to a child specialist. He was certainly desperate enough to try anything by this point. Unfortunately as he anticipated, the idea was met with resistance. Quentin's only surprise was that it had been Sebastian rather than Michael who had resisted the idea. Michael had uncharacteristically gone along with the idea quietly rather than joining his brother in open rebellion.
"Sit here and don't you dare get up," Quentin ordered Sebastian as he took the boys to their seats. He gave Michael a look, silently asking him to watch his brother, before making his way to the receptionist's desk to fill out the necessary paperwork.
Michael sighed as his father walked away. He was sick of dealing with his little brother's obnoxious attitude and he was starting to hate his father all the more for always pawning Sebastian off on him.
"I need to pee," Sebastian announced a few seconds after their father had left. Michael didn't say anything, just picked up an issue of Sports Illustrated and started thumbing through it.
"Miiiike, I need to pee!" Sebastian whined more insistently as he shifted around in his seat. In actuality he didn't need to use the restroom, he just didn't like being ignored by his brother and wanted to spite his father for ordering him to stay in his seat.
"Shut up, Seb," Michael snapped with a hostile glare as he finally looked up from his magazine.
"Fine! I'm going by myself," Sebastian declared a moment later. He had barely gotten to his feet before Michael had grabbed his wrist and yanked him backward, causing him to fall back into his chair.
"Shut up and sit down," Michael ordered calmly as he kept his grip on Sebastian's wrist.
"But I have to pee. You have to take me, or let me go."
"I don't have to do shit," Michael retorted.
"I'm telling dad you said the S word," Sebastian declared gleefully.
"Fine, tell him. I don't care, but you're not getting up." To prove his point Michael trapped his brother's wrist between the arm of the chair and his own hand and squeezed tightly.
"That hurts!" Sebastian shouted. He was pleased when the other people in the room started looking in their direction. "I'm gonna yell."
"Good, then dad can deal with you," Michael answered as he went back to looking at his magazine, holding it in his free hand.
"Mom would have taken me to the bathroom," Sebastian whined.
Michael felt a pain in his gut as he heard the words and he immediately turned a furious look on his brother, a retort already on his lips.
"Mom lo..." Mom loved you. Dad and I don't. Get used to it. That's how Michael's comeback would have gone. Instead he took a deep breath through clenched teeth and bit back the comment. "If you don't shut up right now I'm going to break your arm," he threatened in a low voice before slowly tightening his grip more and more and continuing to stare Sebastian down.
Sebastian's eyes went wide as he felt the pressure on his arm continuing to increase. His heart started to race as he began to think his brother really would do it. The child wasted no time in nodding and making of show of keeping his lips pressed together.
"I just don't know how to deal with them, doc," Quentin was whispering to Dr. Rowe as they stood at the entrance to the waiting room, chatting before going to get the kids for the family session.
"They have to know you're in charge, but that you love them and you're there for them," Dr. Rowe answered. "Especially while they're dealing with the loss of their mother."
"We're all dealing with it," Quentin responded in frustration. "At least they can cry about it and get sympathy. What am I supposed to do?"
"You can cry about it too," Dr. Rowe pointed out.
"No I can't," Quentin snapped. "You just said they have to know I'm in charge. Watching me cry isn't really going to accomplish that."
"Crying doesn't make you weak."
"It will in the eyes of my sons," Quentin answered. "And I know they're just kids but they're like wolves when they smell weakness, especially Michael. He's driven off four nannies already. They can't control him, and honestly neither can I. I have no idea how Carolyn used to handle him. He just does whatever the hell he wants now. Meanwhile Sebastian is just getting brattier by the day."
"You're all going to get through this together," Dr. Rowe assured him.
Quentin sighed and smiled grimly as he joked, "Or I could just send them both to boarding schools and let someone else deal with them."
-000-
**Now**
Sam shivered as he felt goosebumps rise on his arms and neck. He tried to convince himself that it was simply from the cold, that he wasn't scared, that the two large figures casting shadows across the concrete pavement simply happened to be going in the same direction that he was. His inner monologue would have been much more convincing, however, if he hadn't clearly heard a voice say, 'That's him. Let's do this,' before the shadows had started tailing him.
Sam risked another backward glance, silently praying that he would see two normal looking people casually chatting to each other and paying him no attention. No such luck. He briefly made eye contact with one of the guys, a tall, heavyset white guy who looked like someone who would have been a lineman on the McKinley High football team. The possible lineman gave him a hybrid sneer-smile that made Sam's stomach quiver.
"Your ass is ours," the large guy said with a malicious grin.
"And we're not going to stop until we're satisfied," the smaller of the two teens added with a hostile smirk of his own. He was well-built, and wiry looking. He reminded Sam of one of the guys on his swim team. Sam was certain that he could have taken this boy alone, but with his larger, bulkier friend also in the mix he knew his odds weren't good.
Sam quickly cast his eyes all around the area, desperate to find either an escape route or at least someone who could help him. That was when he noticed an expensive, and oddly familiar-looking car parked about a hundred feet away. Leaning against the car was a tall, attractive young man. Sam felt a wave of relief as he recognized him.
"Sebastian, help!" Sam shouted as he decided to make a break for it, hoping he could outrun the two mysterious strangers who seemed to mean him harm. As he ran toward the car he shouted, "They're after me! We've gotta get out of here!"
If he could just get to the car he and Sebastian could drive away. Unfortunately to his dismay as he ran toward him, Sebastian turned and began calmly walking in Sam's direction. That wouldn't do at all. Sebastian needed to get in the car and get it started so that they could make a fast getaway. That was when Sam noticed something quite odd about Sebastian.
"Sebastian...Oh my god you're not-" Sam felt a wave of shock at the unexpected discovery, but he didn't have time to ponder it as a tackle from behind brought him crashing to the ground.
"Gotcha!" The bulky guy declared as he began scrabbling up Sam's body, pinning him down with his considerable mass.
"Get off me!" Sam shouted as he tried to push the heavy teen away. His futile efforts resulted in nothing but laughter as the guy's scrappy companion approached from the other side. Once the lean boy had reached them the heavyset one, moved back down Sam's body enough to allow his friend access to Sam's upper half. Sam was surprised and confused as the well-built guy begin yanking on the hem of Sam's shirt, trying to pry it off the struggling blond's torso. To Sam's horror just as his upper body attacker had succeeded in tangling the shirt around his head, Sam felt the larger guy's stubby fingers hook into the waistband of his underwear, clearly trying to pull it and Sam's jeans off all together. Sam felt a wave a panic and nausea strike him as he realized what the planned to do.
"I told you your ass was going to be ours," the stocky teen jeered as his fingers released Sam's briefs long enough to make quick work of the fly of his jeans. He immediately relaunched his assault on Sam's waistband once his pants were open.
Sam kicked wildly, hoping to land a blow on his attacker, but with the other boy still holding the shirt around his face he was blind and couldn't aim his defensive strikes with any accuracy.
"Yeah, that's right. Spread those legs for me," the guy taunted as he finally succeeded in pulling Sam's pants and briefs down his thrashing hips. Meanwhile the other guy pulled the shirt off of Sam's head, exposing him completely.
"Oh god, Sebastian, help me!" Sam cried out as he realized he was now fully naked and completely helpless. He had a sick feeling he knew what was coming and it was so horrible it was almost inconceivable to Sam.
"Fuck off, assholes!" Sebastian shouted as he finally reached the struggling trio.
Sam watched in amazement as Sebastian, equally naked, slammed his hard cock down over the larger guy's head, using his manhood as a kind of makeshift club.
"Mmm, that's hot! Your friend can play too," the well-built guy declared as he reached down between Sam's legs and began fondling him.
"Don't touch him!" Sebastian snapped as he swung his dick around and landed a crippling blow to the side of the second guy's head.
"Oh thank god!" Sam exclaimed in relief. "I didn't know your dick could do that, Seb."
"My dick can do a lot of things, Sam," Sebastian answered as he leaned down and pressed a heated kiss to the blond's lips. The kiss quickly escalated into frenzied making out as Sebastian lowered himself to the ground, pressing his bare skin against Sam's and thrusting his cock against the athlete's hard, toned abdomen. Soon Sam's fingers had found their way around Sebastian's erection.
"Aw fuck, it's so big and hard," Sam moaned between breaths as he gripped the instrument of his salvation.
"Your ass is mine, Sam. Only mine," Sebastian purred into Sam's ear as he nipped at the delicate lobe. "Do you want to find out what else my dick can do?"
"Oh god, YES!" Sam answered as his fingers continued dancing across Sebastian's hard shaft. Before he even realized what he was doing he had guided the throbbing organ down between his legs and up against his entrance.
"I want you, Sam. I want to fuck you all night," Sebastian whispered as he pressed himself tantalizingly against Sam's tight hole.
"Do it! Fuck me, Seb. Fuck me good," Sam pleaded as he looked up at the attractive singer.
"Come find me then," Sebastian ordered with his trademark smirk before disappearing into thin air.
Sam groaned as his eyes shot open and he realized that he was alone in the dark of his room. "Crud!" he whisper-snapped, as he cursed himself for waking up when he had. It was by no means his first sex dream about Sebastian, but it was the first one since they'd actually had sex. It was also the first time he'd dreamed about Sebastian fucking him rather than the other way around. He was further intrigued by the fact that his unwanted and completely horrifying near-rape nightmare had morphed so abruptly into what had almost become a very hot, very welcome wet dream.
Sam sighed and pulled the covers back, unsurprised to see the straining, wet tent in his pajama bottoms. Sam pried himself loose from his cotton confines and languidly stroked himself a few times, coaxing several more beads of precum from his sensitive tip in the process. He lightly chewed his lip as he considered what he wanted to do, wondering if it was gross. Unable to resist, he pinched the sticky substance off his cockhead and raised it to his mouth, sucking it off his fingers and pretending the treat had come from Sebastian rather than from his own equipment.
Sam's eyes fluttered closed again as he focused on his fantasy, expanding it more fully. As his hand found its way back to his throbbing erection, he focused on the way Sebastian had looked in his dream. He remembered the way his naked, toned body had been pressed above him. He thought about how hard Sebastian had seemed in his dream. The way he had practically tasted Sebastian on his mouth. He imagined the satisfying pressure that would have been pressing into him. His fantasy Sebastian sealed his mouth over Sam's and buried himself hilt deep just as the blond exploded all over his chest and stomach.
"Whoaa," Sam moaned to himself. He had been so close that he knew his brief session hadn't lasted more than thirty or forty seconds, but they had been very good seconds, and the end result had made him more than glad that he hadn't slept through it.
Sam shimmied the rest of his way out of his pajamas bottoms and quickly wiped himself up. He was way too sleepy to get out of bed and clean up any further and it seemed like the sticky fabric had barely hit the floor before he was out again, satisfied and happy.
-000-
"I bet that was a relief," Dr. Johnson commented as her patient finished telling her about the events of his weekend.
"Well yeah, I'm sure it was," Sebastian answered as he rolled his eyes. He had been regularly attending therapy for several years now, ever since his mother had died. His father had thought it was a good idea for himself, Sebastian, and Michael to talk to someone about their situation, and the habit had stuck for all three of them. Of course they all saw different therapists, and of course they had all gone through several different doctors considering how often they had moved, but nevertheless regular sessions with a trained therapist had become a constant in Sebastian's life. Despite that he still found it absurd the way they had a tendency to point out, or ask about, obvious things. Of course Michael was relieved that their father's plan had failed. How the hell else would he feel?
"Why do you suppose you helped him?" Dr. Johnson inquired when Sebastian had been silent for a few seconds.
"So that I would have an interesting story to tell you on Monday," Sebastian responded.
"I thought you preferred to act in ways that were beneficial to you?" Dr. Johnson prompted, ignoring his sarcasm.
Sebastian shrugged. "I do."
"But this wasn't in your own self interest. When your father finds out what happened there could be serious ramifications and in the meantime you don't directly benefit from helping your brother and niece. Why do you think you acted in a way that you yourself might describe as out of character?"
"I guess I must really be growing as a human being," Sebastian answered, wide-eyed and overly dramatic.
"Yes, I think so too," Dr. Johnson answered kindly.
"It's a good thing I was able to pull it off using deception and treachery or I might never have gotten around to it," Sebastian commented.
"Always play to your strengths," Dr. Johnson agreed with a straight-faced nod.
Sebastian barked out an involuntary laugh, pleasantly caught off guard by the psychologist's remark. In the months since he'd started seeing her Dr. Johnson was turning out to be one of his favorite therapists so far.
"So now that he's free of dad you'll never guess what he wants to be," Sebastian said as he continued their conversation.
"A country and western singer," Dr. Johnson guessed, pulling an occupation out of the air and wondering if Michael did have any of the same musical talent his brother exhibited.
"A paralegal," Sebastian revealed with a smirk. "A fucking paralegal! That's his big dream."
"There's nothing wrong with being a paralegal," Dr. Johnson commented.
"Dad wanted him to be a lawyer. We did all this shit and now he's just going to become a paralegal. What the hell? That's like saying, 'no thanks, I don't want to be an Olympic gold medalist. I'm a bronze kinda guy.'"
"So you disapprove of his choice?"
Sebastian shrugged again. "I don't give a shit. It's his call. I just think it's absurd."
"He told you this after he threatened to hurt Sam?" Dr. Johnson clarified, using the opportunity to direct the conversation into different territory.
Sebastian cocked a suspicious eyebrow at the doctor but answered anyway. "Yes."
"But you stopped him. You told him not to hurt Sam, even though you wanted him to?" Dr. Johnson pressed.
Sebastian frowned. He had known that she was going to push this issue. "Yeah," he answered quietly looking past her at the wall.
"Why do you think that is?" Sebastian and Dr. Johnson asked in unison, Sebastian posing his question in a sarcastic imitation of her voice.
Dr. Johnson smiled and gestured toward Sebastian. "Why do you think that is."
"I don't know," Sebastian answered with another dismissive shrug.
"That's not like you, Sebastian. You always analyze people's actions and motivations, even your own. You must have a theory."
"Well I guess I didn't really want Michael to hurt Sam after all," Sebastian said sharply, glaring at the therapist.
"But Sam hurt you. Why wouldn't you want to get even?"
Sebastian scowled at her. He knew what she was doing, but he decided to play along anyway. "Because it wasn't really his fault."
"I guess it wasn't," Dr. Johnson agreed with another nod.
"Yeah, I made him hurt me and I still don't get to hate him. Not one of my finer plans," Sebastian said bitterly.
"You should have known better," Dr. Johnson commented.
"Gee thanks," Sebastian snapped. "I hated Sean after he hurt me. I should have hated Sam too. It was logical."
"But didn't you still want to be with Sean after he hurt you?"
"Well what did I know back then? I was just a stupid kid. Anyway, I got over him after Michael beat the hell out of him. I should have just let him do it to Sam too."
"Why didn't you?"
Sebastian crossed his arms and stared daggers at the woman. "Because I like Sam. He isn't an asshole like Sean was."
"But you still wanted to be with Sean after he hurt you. And yet you don't want to be with Sam, do you?"
"No, I don't," Sebastian confirmed right away.
"Why not?"
Sebastian sighed and repeated his previous answer. "Because I like Sam. He isn't an asshole like Sean was."
"You'd rather date someone you don't actually care about," Dr. Johnson summarized.
"I've never dated anyone I do actually care about," Sebastian said as he balled his hands into frustrated fists. "I don't know what the hell to do with Sam. I don't need this. Besides it's not like I'm Grade A boyfriend material."
"So you think he deserves better?" Dr. Johnson inquired with raised eyebrows.
"No. I think I deserve better. I shouldn't have to deal with his emotions and stuff. That's his responsibility, not mine. I shouldn't feel..." Sebastian trailed off as he remembered the look of shock and hurt in Sam's eyes the last time he had seen him. He felt another wave of something completely unfamiliar: guilt. He hated it; he hated Sam even more for making him feel it. "I don't want to feel any of this."
"But that's how relationships work, Sebastian," Dr. Johnson said softly as she leaned forward and caught his eyes with her own. "Sometimes people make each other feel things they don't necessarily like, but that's ultimately okay."
"I know that," Sebastian said with a bitter laugh. "And I don't want that. That's why I intentionally don't date people I might end up giving a shit about."
Dr. Johnson smiled and gave a shrug of her own. "The best laid plans..."
-000-
"Ms. Pillsbury, you have a minute?"
Emma looked up from the pamphlet order form she was filling out and smiled as she took in the sight of the blond jock standing in her doorway. "Sure, Sam. Please come in."
Sam stepped into the room and then hesitently turned and closed the door behind himself. He decided he didn't want anyone overhearing what he had to say.
"Is everything alright?" Emma asked with concern etched across her face as she noticed how anxious the teen looked and the way he had immediately shut the door.
"I uh, have a problem," Sam answered as he sank into one of the chairs across from her desk.
"Well what is it? Maybe I can help."
"There's this person I like," Sam started.
"Ohh, I'm sorry to hear that, Sam," Emma said sympathetically. She was well aware of the boy's numerous romantic mishaps since he had been coming to McKinley High.
"I haven't actually told you the problem yet," Sam pointed out, confused.
"I'm sorry, please continue," Emma said patiently.
"Well, see this person I like isn't...well isn't my usual type," Sam fumbled, uncertain how to preface what he wanted to say.
"Oh good!" Emma declared hopefully.
"It's a guy," Sam blurted out, deciding it was best to get right to the point.
Emma's eyes went wider than usual and her mouth opened slightly in surprise. A few moments later she recovered and spoke. "That certainly does break your usual pattern."
"Yeah, and I'm okay with it. I really am. I mean it was weird at first, but now it doesn't seem like as big a deal. The problem is I know no one is going to accept it, and I've also already kinda...messed it up."
"Coming out is tough," Emma said with a nod as she started rummaging through her desk.
"Yeah, I guess...but um especially in this case."
"Because you're an athlete and you're also in that Christian club," Emma supplied with another nod as she found what she was looking for and held it out to Sam. "Here I think I have just the thing for you."
Sam took the pamphlet and looked at it curiously. "So You're a Closet Case," he read out loud.
"Yes, I got that awhile back for Santana. It looks like it fits your situation too," Emma explained, pleased that she had found another use for the pamphlets and grateful that she had decided to go with the more generic 'closet case' for the title instead of the phrase 'angry dyke' like she had originally planned.
"Uh, Ms. Pillsbury, that's not really the problem. It's more to do with him."
"Ohh, then give him this," Emma answered cheerfully as she passed Sam the companion piece.
"So You're Dating a Closet Case," Sam read aloud before a look of confusion crossed his face. "Wait, was this originally supposed to be for Brittany or was it for me from when I was dating Santana?"
"That one was Brittany's. I did order you a set called 'So Your Ex-Girlfriend Used You and Then Dumped You For Someone Else,' but you transferred schools and then I ran out of those like two days after they came in...I can order another batch if you still have issues to work through though."
"I think I'm okay," Sam answered. "Anyway, the problem isn't that I'm scared to come out...I mean I kinda am, but I think I could do it. It's more that this particular guy isn't someone the other Glee Club members would approve of."
"Is it Dave Karofsky? I heard he was always fixated on you."
"No it's...wait a minute, Karofsky was fixated on me? Never mind," Sam said as he shook his head and pushed the confusing information aside, trying to focus on his main point. "It's Sebastian Smythe from Dalton Academy."
"Oh the boy who tried to blind Kurt but hit Blaine instead during Michael Week. Yes, I can see how that could put you in a difficult situation. Especially since you're living with Kurt.
"You're really well-informed about school gossip," Sam commented.
"Will keeps me in the loop," Emma answered with a smile. "Are you sure this is the boy you want to date, Sam? He sounds...well somewhat evil. You know, I hear Dave Karofsky's been a lot nicer since his suicide attempt, and you guys would have football in common. Maybe you should look him up."
Sam shook his head adamantly. "I don't have any interest in Karofsky, and Sebastian really isn't evil. He's actually a nice person when you get to know him."
"Well Sam, all that matters here is how you feel about him, and you seem to have your mind made up. I'm sure you can stand your ground when you tell the others."
"You're going to make a pamphlet about this aren't you?" Sam asked knowingly as he watched the wheels turning in her head.
"Yes, probably," Emma admitted as she grabbed her pen and jotted down some notes for 'So Your Boyfriend is a Sociopath. Now What?'
"I'm just kind of worried about the sex," Sam said awkwardly as he introduced his second concern.
Emma's eyes went wide again in alarm. "Oh Sam, there's no reason to rush into that. In fact I've been thinking of re-forming the Celibacy Club, why don't you take part in that?"
"Oh, uh...we already had sex," Sam clarified.
Emma's face went white and she began to look like a deer caught in a pair of very rapidly approaching headlights.
"I'm worried about the...well the effects I guess. Or the aftermath. Mostly for him. I'm fine, but I think he might have gotten hurt and I've just been so worried. I don't know what to do." Sam knew he was babbling but he felt like everything had come spilling out at once now that he was finally talking to someone about his main concern.
Emma took a steadying breath and tried to figure out what to say. "Well Sam, I have to admit this is a little outside of my area of expertise. I think I might have Holly Holliday's business card in here somewhere. Maybe you should give her a call." Emma began frantically flipping through her Rolodex, desperate to find what she was looking for.
"Thanks anyway, Ms. Pillsbury. I think I'm just going to go," Sam said as he stood up, feeling uncomfortable with his confession and the embarrassment it had caused his guidance councilor.
"Sam," Emma said decisively as she managed to suppress her discomfort about sex and focus on the bigger picture.
"Yes?" Sam asked as he paused on his way to the door and turned back around.
"I don't know a lot about gay sex, but I do know that when it comes to relationships, any kind of relationship, communication is vital. You should talk to Sebastian about your concerns."
Sam nodded and made up his mind to do just that.
-000-
"Yes, may I help you?" Malinda inquired politely as she answered the Smythes' front door.
Sam staggered back slightly, surprised to see this unfamiliar woman. For some reason he had assumed Sebastian or his father would answer the door. Now that he thought about it he realized it was more logical that their servant would be the one to do it.
"I'd like to see Sebastian please, ma'am," Sam answered. A few moments later when it occurred to him that he probably ought to identify himself he quickly added, "this is Sam Evans."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Evans, but Sebastian stays at his school's dormitories during the week," Malinda responded.
"Oh darn, I forgot!" Sam said as he mentally cursed himself. He knew that Sebastian stayed on campus during the week, but he had only ever been to Sebastian's house and so that had been his automatic destination when he set out to find Sebastian after he got off school. He realized to his disappointment that he didn't actually know the name of Sebastian's dorm, much less what room number he was in. In fact as he thought about it more he realized that he wasn't even completely sure how to get to Dalton Academy. "Could you give me his dorm and room number please?"
Malinda considered Sam's words as she examined him with a more appraising eye. She knew that there were typically only three types of guys that Sebastian dated: closeted jocks, flamboyant twinks, or gay guys cheating on their boyfriends. Sam obviously wasn't a flamboyant twink, so that left closeted jock or cheating gay. She couldn't definitively tell which one Sam was but she suspected closeted jock. Either way she knew better than to divulge personal information about the household's family members without first checking with Mr. Smythe.
"Please come in, sir," She said as she stepped back to make room for him. "I'll get someone who can help you with your request."
"Oh uh, that's okay. I think maybe a friend of mine knows," Sam answered as he realized how uncomfortable he would feel in Sebastian's house without the boy in question actually being there. He would just have to figure out some reasonable excuse to give Blaine to pump him for information.
"Please, I insist. It'll only take a moment," Malinda responded as she ushered Sam in. She had let callers leave in the past without finding out everything she could about them and then in turn received a lot of heat for it later. It would be much better to let Mr. Smythe conduct his own interview.
Sam stood anxiously in the atrium as he waited for the maid to return. He couldn't help but to be struck by how different the house felt now versus the previous two times he had been here. The first time he had arrived with Sebastian and for that reason alone felt as though he had every right to be there. The second time he had entered in the midst of a party, and though it was overwhelming there had been a lively, welcoming quality to the estate. Now that he stood in the large, silent front hall in the middle of the day, completely alone and knowing that he had messed up and hurt Sebastian, he felt like he might as well have been standing in a court room waiting to be sentenced.
A few minutes later Malinda returned wearing an unreadable expression. "Please follow me," she said simply as she caught Sam's attention and then promptly turned around and proceeded to lead him back down a long corridor. At the end of the hallway was a large set of double doors, one of which stood partially ajar. The maid knocked gently on the open door and waited to be acknowledged.
"Come in," Quentin called in a deep, commanding voice that somehow managed to make Sam feel even more nervous than he already had. To Sam's dismay Malinda merely stepped aside and motioned for Sam to proceed. He would have to face the man alone.
"Hi," Sam said in his best approximation of a friendly, calm tone of voice. He doubted it was going to fool anyone.
"Close the door and sit down," Quentin said sternly. Sam did as he was instructed and remained silent as perched on what looked like it should have been a very comfortable leather chair; somehow it wasn't.
"What brings you here, Mr..." Quentin waited for the teen to supply his name even though he was well-aware that the boy was called Sam Evans, having only just been told by his maid.
"Sam."
"Mr. Sam?" Quentin said sceptically as he watched the blond fidget in his seat.
"Well, uh, just Sam. Or Sam Evans. I guess you can call me Mr. Evans if you want," Sam offered, trying to be easy-going about it. When Quentin arched an eyebrow at him he quickly tried again. "Sam's fine."
"So 'Mr. Sam' what brings you to my home?" Quentin asked in a tone that could have frozen water.
"I came to see Sebastian...Uh I mean 'Mr. Smythe'," Sam tried thinking that perhaps the man would appreciate the extra formality.
"I'm Mr. Smythe," Quentin stated as he continued regarding Sam with the same withering glare.
"Well not you Mr. Smythe, the other Mr. Smythe. You know Sebastian Smythe."
"Yes, I've met him," Quentin said dryly. "Actually, I was under the impression that the you and my son were on a first name basis."
Sam frowned and felt his stomach tense up. It seemed like nothing he said pleased the man. "May I please have his dorm information, sir? I'd like to pay him a visit."
"No," Quentin stated. He watched with satisfaction as a look of surprise and disappointment contorted Sam's face. "Look, young man, I have no desire to hear the details of what you did to my son, but I do know based on his bedroom the next day that you hurt him. As such I have no intention of allowing you anywhere near him."
Sam's tenuous composure crumbled completely and he felt torn between breaking down completely and running out of the room, or trying to defend himself. As he thought about how rudely polite the man had been and felt his own anger rising, he settled on the latter course of action and resolved to stand up for himself.
"Look, Mr. Smythe, I don't know what happened to Sebastian's room or what you think I did to it, but I admit that when it comes to Sebastian himself I might not have done everything just right. That was an accident and I didn't really know what I was doing. I'm here to apologize to him. I care about Sebastian and whether you give me his room information or not I am going to give him that apology and tell him that I care."
Quentin picked up a stack of papers and straightened it against his desk, using the momentary activity as a chance to consider his next move. It was a subconscious habit he had picked up from years in the court room. Finally he set the papers down and gave Sam the full weight of his gaze again. "What are your intentions with my son?"
Sam hesitated for just a instant before looking the man squarely in the eye and responding. "I want to be his boyfriend."
Quentin laughed out loud in response, startling Sam and then filling him with barely contained rage. Clearly Sebastian's father must have thought he wasn't good enough to date his son. That was it; Sam had had it. He was done with attempts to reason and be diplomatic, he opened his mouth to let Quentin know just what he thought of him.
The attorney held up his hand before Sam could speak and successfully silenced him with another hard glare. He only wished he still had this level of control over his own boys. "Listen to me, Sam, you actually seem like a much nicer person than Sebastian's usual 'suitors'." Somehow Quentin was able to convey the quotation marks around the word without resorting to the prosaic gesture that many people made during conversation. "That doesn't mean I'm willing to overlook whatever transgression you committed against my son, but on the other hand that's between you and Sebastian, and he certainly doesn't need me to fight his battles for him. However, all that aside, it doesn't change the facts."
"What facts?" Sam demanded, still angry.
"Sam, let me tell you a little something about me and my family," Quentin said much more informally as he decided to shift strategies and attempt to make Sam relate to him. "You see, I'm not the world's best father. I'm a great attorney, and an excellent provider, and I love both my boys very much, but despite all that, I can't seem to actually build much of a relationship with either of them."
"That sucks," Sam answered as he felt some of his anger deflating and began to sympathize with the man. That had to be a cruddy situation to be in.
"It does 'suck'," Quentin assured him, once again implying punctuation. "Yet, though I can't actually bond with them, that doesn't mean I don't know them both quite well. I'm not blind to their virtues nor to their faults. For instance I know that my older son Michael is an under-achieving, rebellious, semi-violent asshole. However, he's also a damn fine father to his own daughter, quite bright, and fiercely loyal to his family and friends." Quentin felt just a twinge of anxiety as he thought about the fact that he was fully counting on Michael's strong sense of loyalty to prevent him from following through on his threat of fully cutting ties with his father and brother after he finished law school. It was a daunting prospect and Quentin knew that he would have to start trying to smooth things over with Michael while still maintaining his control over the situation if he was going to successfully mollify the young man's fury. Still that was a topic to ponder another time and he quickly redirected his attention toward the current situation with Sam and Sebastian.
"Sebastian on the other other hand is capable of charming just about anyone, and I have no doubt that he has you fully under his influence. Also - and this isn't just fatherly pride speaking - I think he may just be the single most intelligent person I've ever met. However, he's also arrogant, spoiled, manipulative, and quite possibly incapable of expressing honest positive emotion. Trust me when I tell you he isn't boyfriend material."
Sam stared at the man for a few moments, trying to process everything he'd just been told. Finally he stood up and glared at him defiantly. "No."
"No?" Quentin asked, unsure of what Sam was negating.
"No. I don't trust you. I trust Seb. Good day, Mr. Smythe," Sam said as he turned and strode toward the door.
Quentin smirked and mentally tipped his hat to his son. "Sam wait."
Sam stopped just as his hand made contact with the fancy doorknob and hesitently turned around to look at the man again.
"I thought you wanted Sebastian's school address and room information?"
Sam gaped slightly in surprise before shutting his mouth and regarding the man curiously. "I thought you wouldn't give it to me?"
"I changed my mind," Quentin answered. "I did everything I could, Sam. I tried to warn you, and now Sebastian is probably going to destroy you, but as I said before that's really between you and him, and I'm more than satisfied that you yourself don't mean him ill. That's really all I care about in this situation." As he had been speaking Quentin was scribbling Sebastian's address, room number, and campus phone number on the notepad on his desk. As he finished he tore the sheet off and held it out. "Here."
Sam cautiously walked back to the desk and took the proffered slip of paper from Sebastian's father. "Thank you, sir."
Quentin smiled icily. "It's your funeral, Sam."
-000-
End Note: So yeah, I don't think I did that great of a job writing for Emma. Despite the fact that I like her on Glee I don't think I was quite able to get her character down. Please let me know what you guys thought of her scene with Sam. I know Dr. Johnson was probably a much more helpful clinician. I had a lot of fun with her. I'm glad I finally got to use this chapter's flashback scene too. I actually wrote it shortly after I began the story but the time wasn't right to use it until now.
Also, I know I totally lied to you guys and said that there would be some good Sam/Sebastian interaction in this chapter, but honestly that is the very next scene coming up. I swear on a stack of kittens the next chapter with have some good Sam/Seb scenes.
I'm eager to hear what you guys thought of the resolution to last chapter's cliffhanger. I debated going in several different directions from picking the scene up there and having Seb tell Michael not to hurt Sam, to letting Michael hurt Sam, to...well this. Did anyone think I was actually going to have Sam get revenge raped? It was a bit of evil misdirection, but as you saw things turned out nicely for him in the end.
Anyway, I have the next chapter(s) well mapped out in my head so hopefully I can get them out soon. I'm eager to hear what you guys thought of this one :-)