Part Eight

Sam leaned heavily on the stairway railing as he pulled himself up the last few steps. Finally, he reached the upstairs dressing rooms behind the stage. His new sanctuary. It was the only place at McKinley High where he was fairly sure he wouldn't be found. He could feel the scabs on his back tearing open. He needed to change the bandages and see how bad it was. At home, Sarah helped him. At school, he managed to do what he could.

Sam walked in and stopped cold in the doorway.

Quinn was waiting for him.

"What's the matter? Frog got your tongue?" She checked the door behind him and, not seeing anyone else coming up the stairs, closed and locked it. "Hm, apparently not since I don't see Kurt around."

Sam set his gym bag down and gave her a wide eyed, innocent look. "No idea what you're talking about."

Quinn hopped up on the makeup table. "Kurt sits in the top row and only pretends to talk to Mercedes." She glanced over at Sam with a knowing smile. "He's really watching your ass."

"He watches my ass?" Sam checked out his butt in the mirror and smirked, pleased with this bit of information. Too late, he realized what he had done.

"I knew it!" Quinn laughed triumphantly. She pulled out her cell phone, ready to spread the news. Sam put his hand over hers. The look on his face sobered her.

"You can't tell anyone. Please."

Quinn eyed him thoughtfully as she considered his request. Kurt and Sam. This was the best gossip since-well, ever, really. "Give me one reason not to." She crossed her arms. "And it better be a good one."

Sam chewed his lip, wondering if he could trust her and if so, how much he was willing to tell.

"My dad saw the photo."

Quinn looked bored. "So?"

Sam eased out of his loose turtleneck sweater and draped it over a chair. He hissed in pain as he pulled off his tighter fitting t-shirt. He tossed the tee on top of his sweater. Quinn frowned when she saw the bandages. So, it was true. Puck had said something in Glee yesterday but Puck was always saying things.

Sam started at his side, pulling the tape off and unwinding the first layer of bandaging. Quinn walked over to help when she realized it hurt him to raise his arms beyond a certain point. Together, they worked until they reached the padding. Blood had seeped through in a couple of places. Awkwardly, wincing at the movement, Sam reached over and around to pull the last layer off.

Quinn gasped softly. His left shoulder was the worst. The metal tip had cut into the skin and left a deep bruise. Red welts criss crossed his back from shoulder to hip. The marks continued across his shoulders and down his sides where the belt had wrapped around towards the front.

"You have to tell someone."

Sam shrugged away and started pulling first aid supplies from his bag and setting them on the counter.

"No, I don't."

"Sam-"

"Look, I just need to get a job and get some money together. I can go to court. Get emancipated." He sighed heavily as if to convince himself. "I'll be fine."

"Wow, You really didn't think this through, did you?" Quinn went over to stand by his side and nudged him lightly. "Sweetie, you're in Ohio. The only way you can get emancipated is to enlist or get married. And your parents have to agree it."

Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How could you possibly know that?"

Quinn shrugged. "When you have someone else to think of-when you have a baby to think of-you learn to look into all of the options."

Sam gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

"And now we're going to consider your options."

"We already worked out a plan."

Quinn laughed. "Your plan? Sucks. I'm making a new one."

"No."

Quinn put a hand on her hip and gave him a look, "Did I give you the impression you have a choice about this? You don't."

"I said no!" Angrily, Sam start shoving supplies back into his bag. He grabbed his t-shirt from the chair and started to shrug into it.

Quinn stopped him. "Look, fine, just let me take care of your back, okay?" Sam hesitated. Quinn pulled a chair out and turned it around. "Sit." Sam straddled the chair, folded his arms across the back and laid his head down. Quinn dabbed medicine on his back with light, sure strokes. He closed his eyes and drifted off as she worked, feeling the worst of the pain easing.

Meet me in the basement.

He wanders the aisles of the costume room, fingers brushing empty wire hangers as he passes bare clothing racks. The ping of metal on metal seems louder than it should be, overlapping and echoing. Some of the lights flicker and finally die. The room is cold, gray, dirty. He doesn't want Kurt to see this. There's something in the back of his mind he's trying to remember. Something important. He frowns, unable to grasp the elusive detail. He reaches the center of the room and sees his reflection in the mirror. He's wearing his pajamas. And that's when it hits him. He never told Kurt which basement to go to.

He turns to run and suddenly he's home, falling down his basement stairs and into the icy river below. He breaks through to the surface, gasping. And Sam realizes he's at church, sitting in a pile of leaves in the back yard. There's a vague impression of wings and glitter and monkeys. But Sam's eyes focus only on Kurt.

Kurt holds Sarah's hand as they turn to face Sam. Kurt smiles sadly as he takes the black witch's hat from her and walks towards where the elders are waiting. Sam makes a noise. Kurt's name, a plea to stop or a cry of despair, he isn't sure. But Kurt hesitates. Then he wags one finger at Sam. Shakes his head slightly. Warns Sam not to interfere as he turns to enter the church.

Somewhere in the background, he hears Coach Beiste's whistle. "Wind sprints, Evans, now!"

So Sam runs. He runs, heels kicking up a flurry of red and gold leaves, heart racing as he reaches for Kurt. His fingers brush the back of Kurt's shirt as he slips away. Sam lunges, grabs Kurt from behind and holds him fast against his chest. Kurt turns his head just enough that his cheek touches Sam's shoulder.

"Say it."

"…kermie…" Sam sighs against his skin, breathless and scared and so damn grateful that he was fast enough to save him.

When Kurt turns to whisper against his ear, it's his dad's voice he hears, cold and condemning.

"You are so wicked."

And Sam wonders if maybe his dad isn't right. Because there are rules in this game. And for the one he saved, there was one he couldn't. He hears Sarah calling for him from somewhere deep inside the church. The calling becomes crying. After the crying, will be a scream. Sam knows. Because it's always a scream that ends this nightmare. A scream he's heard since he was 8.

Sam jolted awake, Sarah's scream dying on his lips. He barely remembered that he's not alone before he shoved Quinn aside, stumbled for the bathroom and leaned over the toilet to throw up. He sank down between the wall and the tile floor, shaking. When he opened his eyes, Quinn's there, pressing damp paper towels to his forehead. She settled down beside him. She took him in her arms and rocked him, making soft shushing noises as she stroked his hair.

"What happened to you, Sam?"

He shook his head, leaning in to her warmth. "Not me. Someone else." Quinn handed him a bottle of water. After a sip, he added, "A long time ago."

Sam shook his head, not wanting to remember, not wanting to relive that night. Quinn put her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead to his and held Sam for a long moment.

"Is this why you don't want to tell anyone?"

"She died." Sam's voice cracked. "They sent her back and she died."

Quinn lifted his face and searched his eyes. "You can tell me."

Sam got up and left the bathroom. He glanced at the mirror. Quinn must have finished the bandaging while he was asleep. He shrugged into his t-shirt, then his turtleneck and gave her a nod of thanks. Sam looked at the door then back at Quinn. Finally, he straddled the chair again. Quinn pulled another chair over and sat down facing him.

"Gina Debrissi." Sam blushed. "She was almost perfect."

"Almost?"

"If she'd been a boy, she would have been perfect."

Quinn playfully slapped his knee.

A smile played across Sam's lips as he thought back to his grade school crush.

"Big brown eyes. Curly red hair. I'd tug on her curls and she let out this girly little squeak and run off." Sam squealed, imitating a little girl. Quinn chuckled. "Then she'd cross her arms over her chest and pout like she was really mad at me." Sam's face softened. "I'd walk over to apologize. And she'd say, 'Sam Evans, if you're really sorry, you have to be my boyfriend for the rest of the day.' And then, of course since I was her boyfriend, I'd have to kiss her cheek."

"Of course." Quinn agreed, amused.

Sam picked up the water and took another sip, gathering his thoughts. "One day, Gina came to school with a bruise on her face. Child protective services investigated. They ended up sending her to foster care."

He fell silent for a while. Quinn held his hand and quietly waited until Sam was ready to continue.

"Gina-Gina's story was like a fairytale to the rest of us. We'd talk about her at recess. Imagined what her life was like now. How happy she must be. She was the only person we knew who had left the church." Sam's eyes took on a far away look. "It was like-if she made it out maybe we could, too."

"Hope." Quinn murmured softly.

"Hope. Until she came back."

Quinn reached over and rubbed her thumb across Sam's cheek, brushing away his tears. He took a shaky breath and continued.

"After her mom and dad went through some parenting classes and anger management, CPS gave Gina back to them."

"And she died."

Sam nodded. "She had been home a few months by then. It was close to Halloween. We were allowed to make costumes at school. We'd been reading 'The Wizard of Oz' so, naturally, we all decided to dress up based on that." Sam flashed a quick grin. "I mean, witches and wizards and winged monkeys-how cool is that, right?" He picked idly at the plastic water bottle cap. "Gina decided to be a witch. I helped her make a black hat out of construction paper. During recess, I stayed inside and decorated it with glitter and gold stars." Sam licked his lips nervously. "I just-I wanted to surprise her."

"What was your costume?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Winged monkey." He flapped his arms and made little "ee-ee" noises. Quinn giggled.

"We had a special church service after school. So we-we wore our costumes." Sam lowered his eyes. "We were just kids." His voice quieted. "We didn't know."

He fell silent again, lost in his thoughts. Quinn touched his cheek again. "Sam?"

"We had a few minutes before service started. We were in the back yard chasing each other around, having leaf fights, jumping in and out of the piles. Acting like winged monkeys the whole time. And Gina-Gina started saying we were her monkeys and we had to do what she said." Sam crossed his arms over his body, hugging himself and shook his head. "And then she said she was an evil witch and would put a spell on us if we didn't do what she wanted us to."

Sam picked up his chair and threw it across the room, startling Quinn. "STUPID!" He ran over and kicked it twice, sending it into the wall. "It was such a stupid thing to say!"

"Sam, you're seriously freaking me out here." Quinn had one hand on the doorknob. "Do I need to get help?"

"Sorry." Sam ran a hand through his bangs and looked apologetic. "Quinn, really-I'm sorry."

Quinn nodded.

Sam leaned against the makeup counter. "The church elders heard what she said. We have this ceremony. They call it a laying on of hands. Usually it's done in the baptism pool at church. Sometimes a river." Sam shivered, remembering his own recent experience.

"That's like a blessing, though, right?"

Sam shook his head. "The church believes that sin is caused by evil possessing the body. Bring the body to the point of death, the evil leaves."

"That's-"

"Seriously messed up? Yeah. So they dragged Gina and the rest of us into the church sanctuary. Because of what she said, they decided we all needed a laying on of hands." Sam chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Gina's mom took her to the baptism pool. A couple of the elders helped." Sam's eyes grew distant. "She still had the hat. They were trying to pull her into the water but she was holding her arms out trying to keep the hat from getting wet, you know?"

Sam shuddered and Quinn could hear the emotion choking his voice.

"I-I guess they thought she was fighting them. But she wasn't, she just-. They had her in the water and she started screaming. And I knew. I knew something wasn't right. The way she sounded, it wasn't-normal. Her mom grabbed her up and shoved her under a couple more times. Gina's screaming got worse. Her mom picked her up again and this time-this time when she went to duck her under again, she slammed her head against the marble edge of the pool." For a long moment, Sam fell silent, eyes unfocused, remembering. "And then she wasn't screaming any more."

Quinn walked over , slid her arms around Sam's waist and hugged him. She felt his tears dampening her shoulder and his body trembling under her touch. "You still have nightmares about it?" Sam muffled something she thought was a yes. "But it's Sarah instead of Gina?" Another muffled yes, she thought.

Quinn pulled back and held Sam's face in her hands, looking him deep in the eyes.

"First, we're going to go get Sarah. Second, I'm taking you to the hospital. Then, we're calling Det. Pulaski and getting this ridiculous investigation stopped."

"I can't trust a system I've already seen fail."

Quinn kissed him softly on his cheek. "You can trust me." She took his hands in hers and coaxed him towards the door.