Christmas was a wonderful time for Sam. He had missed his family so much and had forgotten how much he loved the simple things that he did with them. He and Rory arrived a couple of days before Christmas and the Evans spent all their time making sure Rory got the full American Christmas experience. They bought a tree and decorated it, sang Christmas carols, watched Christmas specials, and wrapped presents. Stevie and Stacy loved Rory's accent. He fit right in and even though there weren't a lot of presents under the tree, Rory was right, Sam- and his entire family- was rich with love and spirit. They rang in the New Year together and Stevie and Stacy were so excited to get to stay up so late with the rest of the family. They all played board games and Sam played guitar, singing with the family. On Thursday, three days into the New Year, Rory sat down with Sam while the rest of the family was at the store.

"Sam, I gotta talk to you about something."

"What's up Rory?" He asked sitting on the couch next to the Irishman.

"You need to talk to your parents about what you've been hiding from them before we leave Sunday morning."

"Oh. Yeah, no I did that." Sam tried to play it off. He never planned on telling his parents, he had been able to hide his arm fairly well. He hadn't even shown anyone in glee. Telling them about it was one thing, but to see the damage he'd done to his arm, and actually was still doing, was a whole different story.

"No, ya haven't Sam. I've been around this entire time, and you really need to talk to them."

Sam stared at the floor for a while. "I… I just can't Rory."

"You don't need to do it all at once Sam. But they will be more hurt if you keep this a secret from them. They're your parents; they're here to help you."

"I know… but they'll hate themselves… for my choices…" Sam wanted to cry. He hated that Rory was there in that moment because he wanted to cut so badly.

"I don't know what to say Sam. I am taking your brother and sister to a movie tomorrow, and you need to tell them."

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll try."

"I'm going to go call my family."

Sam nodded and watched Rory step outside. As soon as Rory was gone, Sam walked into the bathroom.

He hadn't been cutting as often as he was when he was stripping, but he hadn't been able to stop. He thought it would be easy. He thought he could just give it up, but every time he was stressed or hating himself, his brain just told him to do it. His skin would feel heavy and his heart would race. He could feel the blood rushing in his veins and he knew he needed to get it out of his body.

He rolled up his sleeve and ran his fingers over the cuts and scars. He had taken out the stitches after the 7 days the doctor said they had to be kept in. He was more careful now. He didn't want to get stitches again. He made 7 cuts until his tears finally subsided. He cleaned the cuts he made and wrapped his arm in a bandage he brought with him. He finally rolled down his sleeve and splashed water on his face; he didn't want his family to see him in such a mess.

Rory had stepped outside with his cell phone. He dialed Mr. Schuester's number and waited for an answer.

"Rory? Hey, what's up? Everything alright?"

"Hi Mr. Schuester. Yeah, things are good… I know you told me to make sure Sam talked to his parents… but I don't know if he will."

Will sighed. He had asked Rory to just make sure Sam was okay over break and just watch to see if he talked to his parents or not.

"I'm sorry I put this on you. I'll call them today and tell them Sam needs to talk with them."

"I think that's the only way. See you next week Mr. Schue."

Rory then did call his family. He loved the Evans, but he still missed his family.

The next afternoon, Rory, as promised, took the kids to a movie. Sam had tried to say he'd go too, but his parents told him they wanted to spend some time with him. Sam didn't expect anything out of the ordinary.

After the others had left, Sam's parents sat on the couch and put their son in the middle of them.

"So how are you guys doing lately?" Sam asked cheerily. He was slightly nervous, his parents normally didn't sit him down like this.

"We're fine Sam. We need to ask how you are, really and truly." His mother looked like she was going to cry but he couldn't tell why.

"Where's this coming from? Things are fine."

"Sam, your teacher called…"

Sam was mentally starting to freak out a little. What would Mr. Schue have told them? He promised…

"He said you were having a hard time and you needed to tell us some things that you had been keeping from us… when you were here-" His father continued.

"Is it drugs Sam? Is that really where the money was coming from?" His mother burst out. She was crying and praying that her son would be okay.

Sam felt a lump in his throat. He didn't want to be here. Why was this happening? "No, mom dad, it's not drugs. I just. There's nothing I need to share. It's not important."

"Sam. We know something had been going on. I knew it back then. You were barely eating, always coming home late, you lost the sparkle in your eyes and I am so sorry we didn't ask you then…"

Sam was crying. He wished he had prepared a lie for them. He hated that he was breaking down so quickly. He used to be so good at covering the truth. "You can't know. You'll hate me."

"Oh Sam, we could never hate you. What you've done for us is more than any kid should have to do. Just tell us what's been going on. What is so big that you can't tell us? Just take your time, but you don't have to keep things inside."

Sam was quiet. He stared at his arm. He had a decision to make, telling them where the money came from, or telling them about the cutting. His arm was still a mess from yesterday. He couldn't do that. He couldn't give that up. He would need it now more than ever because if he told his parents anything he'd need to cut. He hated the silence that was between them all.

"Um. I uh, never got a promotion at Dairy Queen…I actually stopped working there." Sam closed his eyes and exhaled.

"I… I started working at the club… that one down the road…"

Sam's mother took a sharp breath. "Not the… strip club…"

Sam nodded slowly. "I'm so… sorry." His voice cracked and he began to sob.

"Is… is there more Sam?" His father asked. His dad had no idea of how much worse things could be, but Mr. Schuester had told him that Sam might not tell them everything at once. They had to be patient and ask for the rest of the story. Sam's mother had kept crying and just grabbed his hand.

Sam swallowed and wanted to shake his head. He wanted to just say that was it, but he couldn't. It was just all coming out now. "After…dancing…I would um…" He didn't know how to explain it. He wanted to die rather than admit what he had done.

"People would pay me…at the motel… to have- to have sex." Sam put his head between his knees and sobbed.

His parents stared at each other and his father began to cry. He then leaned down and hugged Sam's back as all three of them cried.

"Baby…" his mother choked out. "I am so… sorry"

Sam sat up and leaned into his father's hug. He was shaking as his sobs coursed through his body. His mother joined in the hug and no one spoke as the small family just cried together.

About 15 minutes later, the crying seemed to subside for a bit and Sam's father released Sam from his hug. He hated what he'd done to his son. This was his fault for not being able to properly provide for his family. He looked into Sam's eyes and gave a sad smile.

"Sam, I… am so…sorry." His voice cracked. "You should have never had to do that. Please forgive us for relying on you so much…"

Sam looked at his father with slight confusion. "Dad, I… I don't blame you guys… I got myself into this and I lied to you the entire time. It's not your fault-"

Sam's mother interrupted. She was trying not to cry again, but all she could see was that her baby boy had been used by complete strangers. "But it is our fault. We knew you were working too hard. We let you work with all your free time and then took that money from you anyway. You deserved so much better. I… I knew something was wrong. I just didn't… you never seemed to want me to ask…"

"Just please don't blame yourselves. I just wanted to help the family. I made my choices, and they were stupid, but they're my problem."

Sam's father stood up and slowly paced the room.

"When you get back to McKinley, I want you to start seeing a therapist," he said, not looking directly at Sam. "They have counselors at that school right?"

"Uh, yeah… yeah they do, but I don't really-"

"No, you're father's right… Sammy, you need to talk about everything and get it out. I'm sure you don't want to tell us everything."

"Yeah, sure… I guess I'll see someone." Sam was reluctant. He'd think about it. Unless they called the school they'd have no way to know if he went through with it anyway.

Right, so I certainly hope that this kind of fulfilled expectations of his parents' reaction. Let me know if it worked for you.