I know its been like forever since i last updated, but I've just been caught up in life. btw, these new quick spoilers are making me even more mad than the samcedes spoilers. anyways enjoy!
Sam watched the train descend onto the wilderness, before it want visible anymore. Trying to compose himself by wiping of his tears and straightening out his hair and clothes, Sam walked towards the military camp. The captain had said that he wanted to speak to the soldiers earlier that day, and Sam prayed he hadn't missed anything. The last thing he needed was being demoted by his captain.
His head still ached from being hit, but that was the least of Sam's worries right know. Quinn was off to Lima, to see his parents. He was sure that that wasn't the way you take a girl home to meet your parents. He just hoped that she would be alright, his parents would take care of her physically, but the mental stress was what he was worried about. She was small, fragile; she could break so easily. It felt to Sam that that was the first time he had actually thought of Quinn had fragile, he had always thought of her as mentally a strong willed girl, she did have a tendency to breakdown and cry from time to time, but she would always pick herself together again. Now Sam realized that she was still just a young girl, sure she was only a about a few months younger than him, but she had never been through something like this. He was a military soldier, if he didn't suffer now; he was going to have to soon, Quinn could have lived her entire life without having anything like this happen to her, she was innocent and Sam took that away.
Hating himself for what he had caused her, Sam continued to walk towards the camp, hands in his pockets, head down; not wanting anyone to suspect he was up to something. He was sure Russell Fabray wouldn't just let his only daughter just 'go'.
Sam made it to the military camp just in time to hear the captain address the soldiers, he stood behind everyone else, trying not to stand out, but he was sure there was dried blood on his forehead.
The captain was saying something about unity for one another and the country when Artie came up beside Sam.
"Sam?" he asked looking at Sam, studying the cut on his forehead that Sam could've sworn wasn't there when he purposed to Quinn, "what happened to you?"
"Nothing," Sam said quickly, he sure wasn't going to tell anyone about this. If his father had taught him anything before he went off to was that he shouldn't trust anyone. Not that he didn't like Artie, he was a good man, but this wasn't something you go around telling people about.
"Are you sure?" Artie asked, obviously not convinced.
"Yes, I'm fine," Sam said trying to be as convincing as he could be, "I just hit my head on a tree branch."
"A tree branch?" Artie asked, Artie was never one for prying, but this seemed like something that Sam needed help with.
"Yes," Sam said, mad at himself for giving such a unrealistic excuse, "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and the branch hit me right on the forehead."
Artie scrutinized him for a while, but then gave up and went back to listening to the captain talk about plans of attacking General Beauregard's troops in Manassas Junction by next week.
"General McDowell and his soldiers departed from Washington on the 16th," Captain Shuster said, "we're about 30,000 strong, but I'm sure the rebels will have just enough if not more."
There was a silence among the troops; they knew that they weren't as trained as General McDowell thought they were, Sam had never met the great General, but had heard of him as a patriotic, impatient, prideful leader; McDowell didn't want to show any weakness and if the south wanted a battle, a battle they would get.
"General McDowell's plan is to move westward in three columns," the captain continued, "to make a diversionary attack on the Confederate line at Bull Run with two columns, while the third column would move around the Confederates' right flank to the south, cutting the railroad to Richmond and threatening the rear of the rebel army."
Sam sunk that all in, his father had always said that the war was a good opportunity for him to become a man. He didn't think the war would last more then a couple of months, no one did; but Sam couldn't help think that it wouldn't be as short, glorious and bloodless as people thought it would be.
"When do we have to get there sir?" a soldier who went by the name Thomas interrupted, "how long does that give us to prepare?"
"Hardly any," the captain answered, "we have to be there on the 21st to meet General McDowell and the other troops, but I want to get there a few days early to survey the land; by that count we are ought to leave tonight."
Today was the 14th; it would give them exactly one week before the battle was posted to start.
In his mind Sam knew they weren't prepared to face a large confederate army, the one they had beaten a few months ago were the worst of the bunch, that's why the Generals had decided to attack them onto us beforehand, so they wouldn't get caught late.
"Isn't the battle going to be by Bull Run?" asked another soldier, Sam didn't know the name of this one, he thought it was Jonathan, or maybe it was Charles, "they rebels know the land better than us, wouldn't that give them an advantage."
"Men, I assure you, we will indeed prosper," Captain Shuster said, "the confederates don't nearly have as many weapons or toughness as our men carry."
There was a silence after that, soldiers not saying a word, they all knew one thing that this battle wasn't going to be pretty and civil, it was going to be bloody and deadly.
Captain Shuster could feel his men getting frightened, "The rebels have nothing!" he said, "they don't take this seriously. I urge you not to be apprehensive, we will come out victors, and this may be the only battle we have to fight. The south will be so frightened after they lose that they may just surrender."
The soldiers still looked somewhat skeptical, but Captain Shuster had done as much as he could, "pack up your tents and gather all your belongings. We leave for Manassas tonight."
Artie turned o Sam right after the captain had left, "I'm sorry Sam," he said genuinely sorry for his friend.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked oblivious to what Artie was trying to say.
"Quinn," Artie answered simply, "we're leaving tonight, you'll have to say goodbye to her."
The state of the matter rushed into Sam's brain, he was supposed to be grieving, he was about to leave the woman he loved, maybe for good; but the fact that he had already had said his goodbyes to Quinn weren't known by Artie and the rest of the soldiers who knew about his relationship with the plantation owner's daughter. Most men envied him that he could get a beauty such as Quinn Fabray; they had always said that she was the ultimate prize to be won, that didn't sit well with Sam, he didn't like them objectifying Quinn but he didn't say anything about, he was clearly out numbered in that department.
"I don't think I can," Sam said to Artie, "Mr. and Mrs. Fabray are back; I'll probably have to write her a letter or contact her some other way."
Artie looked at Sam, "I'm really sorry Sam, but it was fun while it lasted huh?" he said slapping him on the back and walking towards his tent to pack up.
Sam did the same, gathering his few belongings and taking down his tent, ready to begin his journey.
SQSQSQSQSQS
It was past dusk, the soldiers were setting out to Manassas Junction soon. Sam sat on one of the seats around the campfire that were made of a tree trunk.
His mind was Quinn and nothing else. She was on the train right now, probably resting; it had been a long day to say the least. Sam missed her. There were no words to describe how much he missed Quinn Fabray, she was in his every thought, and everything he looked at reminded him of her somehow. Sam was sure he would go crazy if he was away from Quinn any longer.
"Evans!" called Captain Shuster, causing Sam to look up at him, "we're about to set off."
Sam nodded, he grabbed his small bag of possessions and straddled his horse; he hit the reins and rode the creature forward, joining the others on their trip to Manassas Junction
_SQ_
1 week later
Riding in the train was nauseating Quinn. She had been on about a week and she was almost about to vomit. Her stomach had been bothering her for a while, but it wasn't her monthly, that had happened a couple of weeks ago. She knew something was wrong, but just didn't know what that something was.
She missed Sam terribly, he was haunting her every dream, and every thought, she wished so badly that he were here with her, she had read and reread his letter about 50 times since her departure from Alexandria.
She would be in Lima in a few short moments; the conductor had said on their stop in Cincinnati that Lima was a mere 5 hours away, they'd been on the train almost 5 hours after that. Quinn was anxious, she clutched Sam's letters tighter in her hand, she would sleep with them as well, it always helped comfort her; it was almost as if he was there with her.
Quinn started out the window of the locomotive, they were nearing a small town, a lot smaller than Alexandria; Quinn immediately knew that this was Lima Ohio.
The train came to a halt a few minutes later and the conductor came by and announced that they had arrived in Lima, Ohio. Quinn was feeling slightly feverish and somewhat queasy, the train had taken a shaky stop and that didn't sit well with her stomach. 'It must be the train ride and probably the food too, it was revolting. I'll be fine after I get some fresh air' Quinn thought. She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, and put the letters in the pocket of her dress, stepping out of the compartment and making her way towards the exit of the train.
"Thank you for riding with us m'am," said the attendant, surprised that she was all alone. Ladies were almost always accompanied by a man when traveling.
Quinn nodded towards the attendant and stepped out of the train into the busy train station. It was flooded with people, some where travelers, others were family or friends who were to pick up their loved ones. Quinn walked out of the train station, feeling people stare at her, not having a man with her made her stand out more than as if she had pink hair.
Walking out of the over crowded train station Quinn saw many carriages lined up along the pathway into the station, waiting for travelers. Quinn walked over to the nearest one, because she was too exhausted to walk anymore.
"Excuse me sir?" she asked the driver that was standing beside the carriage, dressed in a black suit.
"Yes miss," responded the man, walking up to her.
"I would like a ride to this address," Quinn said showing the man the address on the back of Sam's letter to his parents. The man read the address intently.
"Oh, yes, of course miss," he said opening the door to the carriage for hair.
Quinn smiled and stepped in, sitting down in the small carriage with her bag beside her, letters in her hand. The driver climbed up and sat in front of the carriage, and hit the reins, directing the horse towards the Evan's household.
_SQ_
"Alright men, get you riffles ready," said Captain Shuster, "we're in confederate territory."
Sam gulped, he had never, ever been so nervous in his entire life. Riffle at hand, he directed the horse to follow the captain's, eyes peeled watching for any signs of movement in the darkness. The only light was that of the full moon up above. The other groups of military had joined them a while before, the total of men now was close to 8,000. They had been appointed to fight at the Stone Bridge on the Warrenton Turnpike, along with General Daniel Tyler's troops.
The horse trotted along before all of a sudden Captain Shuster stopped. Sam's eyes looked ahead, to the rebels across the wide Bull Run River.
General Tyler looked over at the soldiers and gave a quick nod before turning towards the confederates and raising his gun, signaling that they were ready. The confederate General Nathan Evans, he had no relation to Sam, did the same. All soldiers and officers raised their riffles
Captain Shuster raised his riffle, and so did the other soldiers, Sam included although he was pretty sure that his was shaking. "On three," General Tyler yelled, One…two…THREE!"
All of the soldiers, both the Yankees and the rebels, fired their shots towards each other. Sam could barely see anything. It was all a blur or gunfire, blood and yells. Sam remained his gun pointed in the direction of the confederate army and was firing away.
Sam felt his horse all of a sudden collapse, dropping him to hard ground with a thud. Getting on his hands and knees, Sam saw that his horse had been shot in the neck, blood gushing from the wound; the horse was basically dead. Deciding not to dwell on the fact that his horse was dead, Sam crawled over to the nearest tree and hid behind it, watching as many other union soldiers, whose horses were down, did the same.
Sam cautiously turned around to see that more than half of the union soldiers were dead, lying, unmoving on the ground. Just then a bullet was shot right past his head, Sam quickly ducked to avoid the shot that was about to hit. Sam leaned down to pick up his disregarded gun, making sure the bullets were in place; Sam turned around and shot it straight for the chest of a confederate soldier on a horse.
Sam watched as the soldier fell off his horse and saw the blood gush through his chest. Trying to shake away his remorse, Sam, along with many others, shot another bullet into another confederate soldier.
Shooting rebel after rebel, Sam wasn't sure what hurt the most, the sweltering heat, or the fact that his hands were bloody from holding onto to the riffle so tightly. Sam looked over and saw that they were loosing men fast, he estimated around 200 men were laying unconscious on the ground in front of him.
All of a sudden the confederates, trotting on their horses, were riding right for the union army. Sam composed him self, pointing his gun towards the gray uniforms, he let a few shots fire, which were all unsuccessful, seeing the speed that the confederates were traveling.
Shots rung out, it was chaos. Men were falling one by one, both union and confederate. Sam's eyes stung from all of the smoke from the gunfire, and his bulky, woolly, uniform was slick with sweat.
He was right. This war was not going to be a picnic.
_SQ_
"Thank you sir," Quinn said handing the driver 2 dollars that were in Sam's letter to her.
"You're very welcome miss," said the driver taking the money and hitting the reins once Quinn had stepped of and riding the carriage out of eyesight, down the street.
Quinn couldn't believe how different Lima, Ohio was from the other towns she had seen. Quinn had never been to the north, born a southerner; she had always thought the south was where she was meant to stay. That changed drastically after she met Sam however.
Taking deep breaths, and trying to make herself look presentable, Quinn knocked on the Evans, small two story family house. The house was what most houses looked like here, two-story, white, and decent sized; definitely not as big as Quinn's parents house on the plantation, and definitely not as much land around it.
As Quinn waited for someone to answer the door, she was practically shaking. What was she supposed to say? Was she just supposed to give them the letter Sam had given her and stand there? She didn't have a chance to compose herself any further, because all of a sudden the door swung open.
A middle aged woman, with long blonde hair and dark blue eyes, opened the door. She looked at Quinn with a confused expression, "yes?" she asked.
Quinn took a deep breath and began to speak, "you must be Mrs. Evans," she said and after the woman nodded Quinn continued, "My name is Quinn Fabray, your son is in the Samuel Evans correct? He is in the military?"
"Yes, yes," Mrs. Evans said, her eyebrows knitted in puzzlement, "what is it? He's not dead is he?"
Quinn gulped at the question; she realized that she didn't really know. She hadn't seen or spoken to Sam in 1 week. He could very possibly be dead, but Quinn refused to believe that.
"No, uh… I don't think so," Quinn said watching the woman's face relax, "I met your son in Alexandria, Virginia; their camp was just outside my father's plantation."
"You're a southerner?" she asked bewildered, it wasn't everyday a young girl from the south came on your front porch.
"Yes, m'am, your son wrote you this letter," Quinn said, pulling out the letter from her pocket and handing it to Mrs. Fabray, "it will explain everything."
Mrs. Evans skeptically took the letter from Quinn's hands and opened it, pulling out Sam's handwritten letter on white parchment.
Quinn watched intently as Mrs. Evans read the letter, her eyes skimming across line after line; her eyes watering up and tears soon dispatching on her cheeks.
She read the letter for a while, going over it for a while, probably rereading it to make sure that it was authentic. She averted her eyes to Quinn who was biting the inside of her lip, waiting for the older woman to react.
"You best come inside, dear," she said stepping aside and letting Quinn inside the small cozy, homey house.
_SQ_
It was late afternoon, and everyone was exhausted, bodies littered the ground, the earth was bloody and was beginning to win; it seemed like neither side was winning.
Sam luckily hadn't been fatally wounded; he had cuts up and down his body and torn, bloody uniform, some quite deep, all painful, but none lethal.
Sam was currently sword fighting with a confederate soldier who was just as bloody and exhausted as he was. Sam was almost out, he felt light headed and barely had any energy left in him. Using almost all of it, Sam struck his sword into his opponent's stomach. Sam saw the soldier's eyes pop out their sockets, and within seconds he was dead, laying face down on the ground at Sam's feet.
All of a sudden Sam heard yells in the distance; they were attacking them with their bloodcurdling shouts. Sam looked up to see more southern troops; these ones were fresh, clean, and new. There were about 5,000 more of them; Sam knew there was no way that they were getting out of this alive if they kept fighting. Then General McDowell yelled, "FLEE!" and Sam didn't need to be told twice. All the remaining alive union soldiers dropped their guns and ran. Sam was no exception, he ran as fast as his feet could take him, he could hear the southern troops coming after them on horse, shooting freely. Many people had been struck by theses bullets, Sam however luckily kept his head down, and that's when he saw Artie.
He was sitting down beside a tree, leaning against it. Sam could see blood running down his face, and a bullet in his right leg. Quickly making his way over to his fallen friend, Sam knelt down in front of Artie.
"Artie!" he said, "we have to get out of here!" Artie just lazily shook his head.
"I-I can-cannot wa-walk Sa-Sam," he stuttered, fighting the words out of his mouth, "yo-you hav-have t-to go."
Sam looked towards the direction of the rebels, they were quickly gaining in on them; Sam had to do something, he couldn't just leave Artie like this. Sam stood up and pulled Artie up with him. He draped an arm over his shoulder on his right side and held him up.
"I'm not leaving," Sam said, "you're coming with me."
"I-I ca-can't," Artie said, and Sam just shook his head.
"We don't have time for this Artie!" Sam said basically carrying Artie forward, "let's go!"
They both waddled forward; using every ounce of energy he had Sam, dragged Artie towards away from the confederates and into union territory. They were soon running over people, civilians had actually come out to watch them fight.
"Evans!" Sam heard Captain Shuster call from inside a wagon, "get yourself and Abrams in here at once, we have to retreat!" Sam did as told, quickly hoisting Artie up into the back of the wagon before climbing in himself.
Once in the safety of the moving wagon, Sam collapsed, unconscious; everything turning black instantly.
_SQ_
"So, Sam just sent you hear?" Mr. Evans asked Quinn as she sipped her lemonade.
"He didn't really have time to think this all through," Quinn said, meeting your boyfriends parents when he wasn't here wasn't fun, "I'm really sorry to be a bother, I won't need to stay for long, I can get a job in one of the factories around here; I hear they hire young girls to sew, I can do that."
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Evans said, "you will be staying with us, Sam would be furious if he found out we sent you out to work in sweat shops."
"Thank you," Quinn said smiling at Sam's mother, who was later introduced as Abigail, his father, Allen, wasn't bad either. But Quinn loved Sam's siblings the most, Stevie and Stacey were the cutest kids Quinn had ever laid eyes
Sam's parents were good to her, his father was a railroad mechanic so he was out most of the day; Quinn helped Abigail in the kitchen and babysat and helped the kids with school work whenever she got the chance.
One day Allen came home with news that rocked the Evans household. It was all over the papers, the Battle of Bull Run was what they were calling it. It was estimated that 460 union soldiers had died, and about 1,300 were either missing or captured, probably to be killed in the hands of the rebels. Everyone was silent for a while.
Quinn felt tears fall from her tears, 460. Sam could've been one of those 460, he was fighting on the front lines, and the chance of him surviving this was slim. Quinn didn't come out of her room for days after that, Abigail would bring her food, but wouldn't say anything, she knew how Quinn was feeling.
_SQ_
Sam woke up in a hospital bed, it was in a large white tent; injured soldiers were everywhere.
"Finally awake are we?" Artie asked from beside Sam, he was sitting in a chair, with 2 large wheels attached to its sides, and two more on its back.
"Artie?" Sam asked groggily, "where am I?"
"You're in a hospital sleeping beauty, after you gave out in that wagon, they brought both of us here to get fixed up," Artie explained to Sam, who was trying to sit up, but was being pushed down by Artie, "lay down," he commanded.
"Where is here exactly?" Sam asked, looking around the hospital tent.
"Washington," Artie answered, "we're in Washington."
Sam nodded; he had assumed that they'd be brought to Washington, the union capital. "Are you doing okay, Artie?" Sam asked looking down to Artie's right leg which was covered up by his trousers.
"That depends on how you look at things," Artie chuckled, "I mean I made a lifelong friend who saved my life in the midst of the battle, but I did get my leg amputated."
"Amputated?" Sam asked, he was never one for medical terms, "you mean they cut your leg off?"
Artie nodded, "quite the painful experience, it was," he said, "you got it better though, you were unconscious for your stitches."
"Stitches?" Sam says looking down towards his arm and legs, seeing small stitches coating his cut skin.
"Yes," Artie said pointing to Sam's face where he must've had more stitches, "you got the silk though; they've run out recently and started using horse hair for stitches."
Sam cringed at that thought, "how's the country doing?" he asked after a while.
"Not so great," Artie answered, "obviously the rebels won the battle and we've lost more than 2000 men to death, injuries, or imprisonment."
"2000?" Sam asked, astonished at the number.
"More than 2000," Artie corrected, "President Lincoln as sent out 600,000 more troops, word has it that the injured soldiers who aren't fatally injured or improperly put together are going to go out there again," Artie looked at Sam, "that would mean you, since you didn't lose an arm or something."
Sam winced, "nothing stopping that I guess," he said and Artie looked down.
Just then Captain Shuster came by and stood beside Artie.
"Ah, Evans," he said looking Sam over, "how're you feeling son?"
"Better sir," Sam said.
"That's good, because you're one of our few fine shooters, we can't afford to lose you," the captain said, sitting down on a chair by Sam's bed, "listen Evans, I have a mighty favor to ask of you."
"Yes sir?" Sam asked, but he already knew what he was going to say.
"We're have promoted you to Sergeant Major for your heroic effort in Manassas," he said, and Sam smiled, "but we're going to have to ask you to extend your stay with the militia, another battle will be happening sooner than we know it."
Sam didn't say anything, he had seen that coming, "Yes sir, of course," he said and Captain Shuster smiled.
"That's what I like about you Evans," he said standing up, "you're ready to serve your country and fight for what's right."
"Thank you sir," Sam said, "but I would like to take a short leave to visit my family sir." Sam knew that was a tall request to ask, but he had to try.
Surprisingly Captain Shuster nodded, "you may, Evans, but no more than a month," he said and Sam nodded, more than happy to be able to see his family and Quinn once again.
"Yes sir," Sam said, letting the captain leave before nudging Artie.
"You going home too?" he asked.
"Of course," Artie said, "I'm no use to them now."
Sam sat up and swung his legs on the side of the bed, slowly lifting himself up and standing.
"I need to right my family and Quinn a letter," he told Artie.
"Oh, yeah, about that, I heard that she ran away from her parents," Artie said and judging by the not surprised expression on Sam's face he concluded that Sam had something to do with it, "you helped here didn't you?"
Sam shrugged, "let's just say, I'll be seeing her very soon."
_SQ_
Quinn was vomiting violently in a large bowl that Mrs. Evans had left in her bedroom. This was the 3rd time in the last two days, Quinn knew something was wrong.
After she was done, Abigail lightly knocked on the door before entering.
"Quinn, dear I think you should go see a doctor," she said leaning down and rubbing Quinn's back. Quinn was sitting on the floor, leaning against the foot of the bed.
"You're right," she said after a while, "I just hate to have to ask you for money though."
Abigail just shook her head, "don't be Quinn, Sam would've wanted nothing less, the way he wrote about you in that letter, it seemed like he was quite smitten with you, he seemed in love," Abigail said picking up the bowl of vomit, "I can take you this afternoon, if you'd like.'
"Yes'm, that would be perfect," Quinn said and Abigail smiled, before exiting the room to dump the bowl of vomit.
Around 2 o'clock, Quinn and Abigail walked to the doctor's quarters.
"Welcome Mrs. Evans, how may I assist you?" the elderly man, who Quinn assumed was the doctor asked.
"Quinn here has been vomiting like a maniac lately," Abigail said as both she and Quinn sat down.
"Hmm," the doctor said, he called over the nurse who escorted Quinn into an empty room. The nurse took a urine sample and left the room, leaving Quinn alone. Soon Abigail walked in and sat beside Quinn; both waiting for the doctor to tell them her fate.
The doctor came with a smile on his face, "Well, Miss. Quinn looks like you are pregnant, with child," he said.
Quinn froze. She was pregnant? Pregnant? She was going to have a baby; Sam's baby.
A lot of you saw that coming. but its here and true. Tell me what you thing.
Love it? Hate it?
Let me know.
R&R