Finding a Voice

10: Running From Lions

Rachel took a deep breath, smoothed down her hair with her hand, and exhaled, her notebook tucked under her arm and her pen tucked behind her ear.

Confident. Be confident.

She then began to walk, scanning the lockers until her eyes locked on a familiar head of blond hair. A smile began to cross her face until it spread across so far that she seemed to glow with happiness.

"Sam!"

Sam, confused, gently set his geometry textbook back down on the bottom shelf of his locker, slowly looking over his shoulder to look for whoever had said his name.

Someone had called his name. No one had called his name since the first day of the school year, when Rachel…

Well, I guess that's who, he realized as the name clicked into place, cutting off his own train of thought.

Sure enough, Rachel Berry, her face brightly lit up with one of her commercial-worthy smiles, was walking towards him, her head slightly tilted to one side like she did when she was thinking about what to write next. It could only mean that she had something heavy on her mind, when her head was tilted like that.

Sam didn't talk much these days, but he did a lot of observing, and that was just one of many of Rachel's mannerisms that Sam had picked up on by now. It was among other things, like the way that she always checked over her shoulder to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation before she said something meaningful or the way she always seemed to be fiddling with her hair when she lied. It was something he saw whenever Mr. Shue asked her a question about Sam's progress, and it was one of the many perks of being someone who sat quietly and watched rather than performed – he had her - and probably half of the glee club - completely figured out by now.

"Hey, Rachel," Sam said, trying to force a smile. It was one of the harder things to lie about, though – being happy – so he was sure that Rachel saw right through it. He figured she probably had him just about as figured out as he had her by now; she just seemed like the type of girl who would notice those things, too. Or maybe Sam just wanted to believe that he wasn't the only one who saw things rather than said them…

Of course, Rachel was definitely the type of girl who had a lot to say, but these days she seemed to be getting quieter. Sam heard the whispers in glee club, and everyone seemed to think that he had something to do with the toned-down, less loud-mouthed version of Rachel Berry. He was good at trying not to care what people thought by now – training for the real thing, he supposed; after all, he couldn't keep up this act forever, even though he certainly could and would be stubborn enough to try – but the way Finn seemed to take it kind of worried him.

Sam had been acutely aware of Finn's every word around Rachel these days. Maybe it was just the way she'd cried after their last argument that did it, but Sam had a gut feeling about Finn, and it wasn't a good one. He knew that Rachel was head-over-heels in love with him and all, but something just told him that it wasn't right. They didn't fit the way two people in love were supposed to. A good couple should fit together like the pieces of a puzzle, like two missing halves – but Sam didn't think that Rachel and Finn were like that. Rachel didn't seem…herself around Finn, or at least not like the Rachel he'd been seeing the last couple of days…

Maybe he did have something to do with Rachel's transformation. Sam wasn't sure what it might be, but it was suddenly starting to click into place – there were subtle differences between the way Rachel acted around him and the way Rachel acted around everyone else. He didn't think that was a bad thing necessarily – it wasn't like he was deliberately trying to change her or anything – but Rachel seemed to tread more lightly around Sam. She wasn't nearly as overbearing as the Rachel the rest of the glee club saw.

Or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe Rachel was just maturing, and everyone was being crazy enough to think it had something to do with him. Maybe she was just getting older and growing up and getting ready for adulthood or something.

Adulthood. Sam really hated that word. Apart from maybe the word 'intercourse,' it was probably his least favorite word. It was just…scary. With everything he'd been through this past year, Sam didn't feel like he was in any way close to being an adult. If anything, he felt more like a kid in a teenager's body than ever. The idea of graduating and transitioning into, well, adulthood…well, the only word for it was 'terrifying.'

"I, um…I think you owe me an answer to my question from the other night," Rachel said, snapping him out of his fear-filled thoughts about the future…his future. He couldn't help but notice that her head was leaning even further towards her right shoulder than it had been before, giving her a look of almost childlike curiosity. It kind of reminded him of Stacy.

A knot tied itself in his gut.

Don't think about it, Sam told himself, but it was already too late. The guilt was already beginning to sink in. All he could think about whenever he thought of or looked at Stacy now was about that one night, and her one simple question, and his one, simple yet heartbreaking answer:

"Sammy, will you sing me a lullaby tonight?"

"Not tonight, Stace."

Suddenly, Sam had an urge to end this conversation with Rachel as quickly as possible. He felt like he needed to be alone, maybe go sit and read a comic book in the boys' bathroom during first period today, or go burn some calories in the weight room in the gym…

"Okay…just not now," he said, his words coming out in a rush. Sam pulled out his geometry textbook again, with its Thor comic book hidden between the pages, and quickly slammed his locker. Brushing past Rachel's shoulder, he started for the bathroom, hoping that no one would notice if he didn't come out until second period.

Normally, a sense of pride would've come over him for choosing this over weights and reps and calories – a baby step towards recovery, as his therapist would've said – but now, all he felt was guilt for walking away from Rachel. But he just couldn't talk to her. Not right now. He wasn't completely sure why, but he just…he couldn't. He had this instinctive feeling like he just might break down if she said something, anything, asked any questions…

Rachel, feeling dumb for trying, just stood there and stared after him, her jaw hanging open just slightly. A rush of desperation came over her, and she suddenly felt like their friendship was about to slip through her fingers and like she had to do whatever she could to save it.

He's pushing me away, Rachel thought, and mentally facepalmed for not seeing it sooner.

Sam wouldn't open up to her. He was never going to open up to her.

How could I have been so stupid? she thought, suddenly feeling a rush of tears welling up in her eyes. Not only did her project feel like a complete lie, but so did their friendship.

But no matter how many times she told herself she was being stupid and it was no use, she still couldn't stop herself from wiping at her eyes and running to catch up with him.

Taking hold of his arm, Rachel began a desperate attempt to salvage his trust: "Well, um…what if we met in the library, after school?"

They both came to a dead stop in the middle of the hallway, the crowds of cheerleaders and jocks parting to go around them.

Sam wanted to just say no, and end it at that, but there was a pleading expression in Rachel's big brown puppy dog eyes that made him realize that she thought she was about to lose him as her project partner, that he was pulling away from her…and although he couldn't really argue against it, since he wasn't exactly drawing closer to her either, he felt a little pang of guilt for not noticing it sooner.

He sighed and said, "I have to go get Stevie and Stacy at 3:45."

Rachel's face fell.

"It won't take long," she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking with desperation.

Sam sighed again, then broke into a halfhearted smile. "Okay."

Rachel's whole face lit up with a huge grin. "Great! See you then."

Sam's smile only widened as he saw how genuinely happy Rachel looked. Shaking his head at both her and himself, he turned on his heel, then started to walk back towards his locker. Math class was suddenly seeming like a much better idea – and besides, he could only imagine what Rachel would have to say about it if she found out: "Samuel Evans, cutting class to read comic books in the boys' bathroom? How are you expecting to get accepted into a decent college when you know that an infraction like that would show up on your permanent record?"

The thought only made him laugh, and he was about to turn in toward his locker when he heard a voice call, "Hey!"

Sam turned around only to find Finn Hudson staring at him from across the hallway. He had the same look on his face that he'd had last year after Jesse had had his hands all over Rachel at prom….and that wasn't a good thing.

Come to think of it, Sam hadn't been that happy about it either, seeing as Rachel was supposed to be his date (well, ½ of his date) and he didn't that cocky asshole groping her while all he could do about it was look on if he didn't want to ruin the only junior prom he was ever going to have.

Sam's heart began to thud a little, blood starting to pound in his ears, as Finn drew closer, his eyes locked on Sam like a lion stalking its prey. He was charging towards him like a bull, and Sam half wanted to scamper off like a frightened rabbit, but he was supposed to be a man in times like these. He had to stand his ground.

Both his feet planted firmly on the ground, Sam watched Finn draw closer for as long as he could stand it, until only a couple feet remained between them, and he had to close his eyes, recoiling as he waited for the impact of Finn's fist into his face. He wasn't sure what he'd done exactly, but he had a couple good guesses, and guess number one was Rachel Berry.

His guess was only confirmed when Finn snapped, "Stay away from my girl; okay, Evans?"

Sam slowly opened his eyes, realizing that he wasn't going to get hit, and startened to straighten up, trying to look tall enough to be a match for Finn. He'd scuffled with him in the past, but that was when he'd had more confidence, and Sam didn't trust that he'd be able to stand up for himself with his self-esteem in the terrible condition that it was – and if puffing out his chest and pushing back his shoulders made him look tough enough to take Finn on, maybe it would be enough to convince the Jolly Green Giant that a fight was a bad, bad idea.

Remembering his role in the situation, Sam rolled his eyes and replied, "We're just friends." Defending his honor, while still managing to seem cool. I like it. Keep up the good work, Evans.

Unluckily for him, Finn didn't seem convinced: "Leave Rachel alone." He was practically breathing fire.

On the brighter side of things, Finn didn't seem to have a fight in mind, and Sam knew getting beat up wouldn't be in his best interest, so that was good. But as Finn turned on his heel to walk away, still storming around like he ruled the whole school, something boiled up inside Sam as he realized that this was not the way a guy was supposed to treat his girlfriend. Finn should've trusted Rachel – and Sam could sympathize with the whole infidelity thing, because he knew how it felt to have his suspicions (and in the case of Quinn Fabray, he also knew what it felt like to be right), but that was Quinn. This was Rachel. Rachel was the sweetest, most innocent girl he'd ever met…well, aside from Brittany, but that was still something, and Rachel most definitely was something – something special. And you weren't supposed to treat something special the same way you would treat any old piece of crap.

And so Sam Evans forgot his honor and his permanent record and the fact that he was probably going to get his ass kicked if he wasn't careful, and he shouted down the hallway at Finn, "KISS MY ASS, HUDSON!"

Everything that followed happened in a blur. Suddenly, Finn had grabbed Sam by the shirt, and Sam was shrinking, cowering away the way he never would've last year. But as the first punch was thrown, anger swelled up inside Sam, and with the rush of pure hatred-fueled adrenaline that followed being socked in the gut, he remembered what it was like to be an arrogant dickface like Finn Hudson and threw a right hook, hard, and watched with an almost self-satisfied smirk as the stupid, untrusting, full-of-himself, son-of-a-bitch, jerk stumbled backwards, a hand pressed to his cheek.

It didn't take long for their football instincts to kick in, and Sam, feeling that one punch – no matter how badly it seemed like it hurt – wasn't enough to add up to the worth of someone like Rachel, grabbed him right around the middle and took him down.

In the crowd that had gathered around the two of them, someone yelled, "AND THE QUARTERBACK GETS SACKED!"

The comment only seemed to fuel Finn's anger, and he began to make a grab at Sam, the two of them wrestling for dominance until Figgins, flanked by a furious Mr. Shuester and a frightened Ms. Pillsbury, pushed his way through the mob and shouted, "STOP! STOP THIS AT ONCE!"

Sam wasn't completely sure what was happening until Mr. Shue had him by the collar; he'd been too busy seeing red and thinking of ways to cause Finn Hudson pain. Mr. Shuester pulled a squirming Sam, hands still balled into fists, to the edge of the fray, deliberately keeping him as far away from Finn as he could get him.

He was so blinded by rage that he could only see bits and pieces of what was going on around him: the red and ivory of Finn's letterman jacket – God, Sam hated that jacket. Short freshmen heads in the background, jumping up to attempt to see over the horde. A shock of pink hair in the crowd.

Quinn?

Then, over the blood boiling and pounding in his ears and the low chant of, 'Fight, fight, fight fight,' Sam recognized Figgins' thick Indian accent and knew he was fucked:

"Samuel Evans…Finn Hudson…in my office!"