A/N: Spoiler alert for The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon. You have been warned.
The TARDIS heaved and shook as it passed through the doorway, and Sam trembled along with it. He wasn't scared for his life – he knew that the Doctor was a good enough pilot, even if Ben might have been that little bit better. Instead, he was truly worried about Ben's reaction to seeing him. He had decided, after considering his feelings, that what he felt for Ben could only be called love, even if Ben had attested that they were too young to understand the intricacies of their hearts like that.
He turned to Kurt, who had his arm around Blaine and was giggling about something. He remembered when he and Ben were like that – blissful. He knew now why that bliss had to end, and couldn't help but hate Finn for it. He knew that if Ben chose to forgive him, that was that, but he could tell in his heart that he was never going to be truly able to forgive Finn for what he had done.
The fact that his boyfriend had been attacked, violently and mercilessly, for something he had no control over? It made him sick to the stomach. He knew it was a feeling that probably wasn't going to go away over the course of their lives, but he couldn't help but feel it.
Sam walked over and tapped Kurt's shoulder. "Kurt?" he asked, his hand shaking. The more delicate teen nodded, urging him to go on. "What if… what if he doesn't want me back? Or he doesn't like the song?" He started to speak faster. "I mean, I think that was the song he wanted us to sing. He mentioned it, once. It might have been some other duet. What if this is some random song and means nothing? Maybe I should have brought flowers. Something weird and special – does the Doctor have a garden? Or maybe a card, or something like that. I wonder if –"
"SAM!"
The boy in question became very quiet in fear.
"You listen to me – and make sure you listen. It doesn't matter which song you sing with Ben, or sing to Ben, or sing BY Ben. He's going to adore it, because you're singing it to him. He doesn't need flowers, or a card – by the way, what would you write on this card anyway? 'Sorry your roommate sexually assaulted you, come back to my universe?' You can't express what you mean in a card. You need to be there for him. The fact that you've travelled across universes and faced some crazy swordsman just to get to him is enough." Kurt sighed. "You don't need anything but how you feel, Sam. If you love him, he'll know."
Sam began to relax. Kurt was right – Ben was going to be thrilled.
But, he still couldn't push away the voice at the back of his head that was practically screaming – "What if he isn't?"
There was a lot of shoving involved in Ben's journey to his school's auditorium. He had been in class in a computer block on the other side of the school – he raced towards the hall, hands trembling. What was waiting for him?
The footage had cut out when Finn had asked to make a promise – this was after Sam and Kurt had gone downstairs, which was after Ben had sung to the backing of Once Upon a December. At the time, it had felt so natural, and it still felt like it had been the right idea – somehow his voice had made it's way to Sam, who had remembered him.
Sam had remembered!
His gut was telling him to go to the auditorium – and so that's where he went. He knew, knowing the New Directions, that there was probably an elaborate song and dance prepared for him. Perhaps multiple song and dances. Unfortunately, his gut wasn't the only one telling people to go to the auditorium – it seemed like everyone else in the school had had the same idea.
As he raced through the crowd, hauling a giant carry-bag with him, he suddenly stopped. Disoriented, he shook his head. Why had he… his eyes drifted downwards to the underside of his wrist. There was a large line running down it – and a pen in his other hand. He was suddenly aware that his bag was on the floor.
A shiver ran down his spine. It was a lone tally mark.
As everyone else rushed into the auditorium, he waited, and very slowly – very carefully, glanced towards the corner of his eye. He turned, ever so slightly. He was aware of humanoid shapes behind him, and hastily drew another tally mark. This one was on the back of his hand. He turned around with his whole body, and saw them. About a dozen of them, all looking at him. At least, it seemed like they were looking at him. They didn't really have eyes.
The Silence turned their heads to the side, and he drew another tally mark next to the one on the back of his hand. All of the cheer he had just been feeling was replaced by a sense of dread.
"I see you," he affirmed. "I can see exactly who you are."
"Then you fear us," the voice of one of the Silence replied.
"That's where you're wrong," he said carefully. "I know that anyone who sees you is going to kill you."
"Why, then, do you not kill us?"
"Who said anything about not killing you?" he asked bluntly. He raised his hands, as if to fight them with karate or martial arts. He didn't have them balled in fists, however – they were open and loose. He slid the pen into his pocket, after drawing another tally mark on his hand.
"You believe that you can defeat us unarmed, with only your human hands to defend you?" The Silence almost spat it at him, snidely and condescending.
"There you go again, making assumptions." He clapped his hands together, and spread them apart. As he did so, a sleek gun appeared in them, and he held it with both hands. "Who said anything about me being unarmed?"
The Silence roared, and he fired a few blasts. He hit a couple of them, who were knocked to the ground. Ensuring that he didn't look away, he backed up the steps to the auditorium, hitting a few more as they advanced on him. He had picked up his carry bag, and was only using one hand, but his aim was still good. Sighing, he turned away and ran quickly towards the auditorium. He clapped his hands together and the gun disappeared.
Clutching the bag, he ran again. Now, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't just running towards someone. He was running from something.
Something very bad indeed.