A/N: You guys are the best reviewers ever! Seriously, almost 70 reviews-thank you so much!

"Lullaby" (Goodnight My Angel) by Billy Joel.

"Is It Okay If I Call You Mine?" by Paul McCrane from the original "Fame" movie. (Several versions available on youtube.)

Part Twelve

Nurse Marisa found Burt Hummel in the Quiet Room down the hall from the main Emergency Room lobby with Finn, Quinn and Rachel. Burt was red faced and obviously upset and the kids looked guilty. Interesting. She wished she had come in earlier to find out what they had been talking about.

"Mr. Hummel?"

Burt looked up and nodded at the petite brunette.

"I have some good news. Kurt's breathing has improved and we've taken him off the respirator."

Burt let out a shaky breath, relieved.

Marisa smiled at him warmly. "We'll be moving your son upstairs to ICU shortly. After we get him settled in, then you'll be able to see him again." She patted his arm reassuringly, "Don't worry, I'll personally see to it that Kurt is taken care of."

Room 234 on the second floor of Mercy Central was for Outpatient Gynecology. At 9:30 at night, it was closed. Obviously, Sam Evans and the security guards who had taken him into custody weren't here. Immediately, Det. Pulaski radioed Det. Brewster. No response. After several more failed attempts, Pulaski contacted the police dispatch and asked them to try Brewster by radio, phone and pager. Det. Pulaski's jaw tightened as he headed downstairs to Radiology.

In Radiology, there was no sign of Sarah Evans or Det. Brewster. Pulaski checked with the registration desk. Apparently, they had never arrived. He let out a frustrated breath. On the way back to the Emergency Room lobby, Det. Pulaski burned up his radio making calls. First, he requested officers to cover the hospital exits. Next, he requested additional uniformed officers to meet him in the Emergency Room. And, finally, he initiated a complete lockdown of Mercy Central.

Hydrotherapy Pool.

Open: Monday through Friday. 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.

Pool is now: CLOSED.

Sam froze as he read the sign on the door. When the two security guards urged him forward, he started fighting them with everything he had left. Unfortunately, with his previous injuries and the more recent fight with Finn, what he had left wasn't enough to keep the guards from dragging him inside. His heart sank when he saw Det. Brewster was already there. Holding Sarah at gunpoint.

"Sammie?" Sarah started to climb down off the stool she was sitting on but Brewster put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

Sam licked his lips nervously. "It's okay, Sarah, stay where you are." He checked out the room as the two guards walked him over to the pool area. There was only one entrance. A panic button he wouldn't be able to get to without confronting Brewster. A couple of showers and bath tubs and, of course, the shallow pool. Nothing Sam saw so far that would help him get Sarah out of there.

The double glass doors slid open again and Paul Evans entered. He nodded at the two guards holding Sam then glanced at Det. Brewster with a disapproving frown.

"I don't approve of my 9 year old daughter being held at gunpoint, detective."

"You having second thoughts?"

Paul Evans stiffened, insulted. "Not at all." He walked over to his son and touched Sam's cheek. Seeing the genuine affection and sadness his dad's eyes was more than Sam could take and he looked away. "Abraham offered up Isaac his beloved son to God's will." Paul felt tears in his eyes. "How can I do any less?"

Sam remembered what Quinn had said about exploring all of his options. He didn't seem to have too many at the moment. And then it came to him and Sam almost laughed at the simpleness of the solution. Resistance is futile. Sam gave a silent thank you to all of the Star Trek Borg episodes he had watched. Resistance was futile, so he wouldn't resist. He would pretend to give in but on his terms. All he had to do was delay his dad long enough for Det. Pulaski to find them.

"You're right, Dad." Paul Evans looked into Sam's eyes, surprised and feeling a spark of hope. "I want this-this sickness of the flesh out of me. But not like this." Sam chewed his lip. He was being careful with his choice of words, reverting to the language he had grown up with in the church. He held his father's gaze. "The laying on of hands is a sacrament, a holy ritual." He paused, he could see that his dad was listening. "You taught me that."

"Yes."

"To perform it here in this place-under these circumstances-would be vulgar." Sam saw the flicker of doubt in Paul Evans' eyes. "If you ever loved me, take me back to the church. Take me to the baptism pool." Sam pressed his dad quietly. "Even the river would be better." Sam turned his head and kissed his father's palm. "Please."

It was a moment of pure luck that Det. Pulaski was returning to the Emergency Room lobby just as Marisa came out of the Quiet Room. He grabbed her as soon as he saw her, forced her against a wall and secured her hands behind her back with a zip tie. She struggled as he marched her down the corridor to the nurses' station.

"I won't tell you where they are!"

"I don't need you to."

Marisa looked at him in surprise. He couldn't have found Paul Evans and the others already.

Pulaski held her against the nurses' station. He finally spotted an older nurse he recognized and called her over.

"Doris, I need to trace an i.d. bracelet."

Doris sat at the computer and quickly brought up the screen she needed.

"Last name?"

"Evans. E-v-a-n-s."

"First name?"

"Samuel."

Marisa smirked as she watched Pulaski and Doris. "Only the maternity and psych wards use microchip i.d. bracelets."

"I know." It was Det. Pulaski's turn to smirk. "That's why I had Sam's bracelet changed."

The computer beeped and Doris read off the information. "Hydrotherapy, fourth floor, room 450."

Marisa jerked away. Pulaski grabbed her and took her to the ground, holding here there with one hand while he waved down a uniformed officer with the other. When the officer came over, Pulaski handed Marisa to him.

"Take her to detention."

He radioed for Reyes to bring back up and meet him at the elevators.

Paul Evans watched his son for a long moment before finally shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but no. This is how it has to be."

The guards moved Sam towards the pool but he balked. "Wait!" He shrugged out of their hold. "My clothes."

Paul nodded and gave Sam a few moments to shrug out of his sweater and jeans. He was laying his folded clothes on a poolside chair when something in the water caught his eye. Another panic alarm. Now that he was at the pool's edge, he could see there was an alarm on every side of the pool. If he could reach one of them, maybe he could get help.

Sam checked on Sarah again. She was rocking back and forth, twisting her hair around her finger. The noises she was making as she cried were louder, panicked and desperate. Sam's eyes darkened with concern.

He lowered himself into the pool and moved to the narrow end by his sister. Sam stood in the water, head bowed, fingers ready. He heard his dad climb into the pool behind him.

Sam made his move. He set off the alarm and immediately a loud, persistent beep sounded, filling the room.

Sam turned and landed a solid punch to his dad's jaw that dazed him enough for Sam to shove him away. One of the security guards went to help Paul Evans. The other trained his gun on Sam as he pulled himself out of the pool near Sarah. Unfortunately, his line of fire now crossed Brewster's.

"Lower your gun before you shoot me, you idiot!" Det. Brewster aimed his gun at Sam, prepared to fire. "I've got him."

At that moment, the doors to the Hydrotherapy room slid open. Brewster turned and raised his gun to Pulaski as he came through the entrance.

Sam seized his opportunity. He pulled Sarah to the floor and shielded her, pulling her head to his chest and telling her to close her eyes and cover her ears. Her body trembled against his and he wrapped his arms tighter around her. Her small hands fisted his shirt. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, too, praying for the best, expecting the worst.

Pulaski felt something graze his cheek as he squeezed off two quick rounds and saw Det. Brewster fall back and stay down. He heard more shots fired on either side of him and the two security guards went down as well.

Someone grabbed Sam's shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Det. Pulaski crouched beside them, gun drawn, blood trickling down his face. Being so close to the gunfire, Sam was momentarily deafened from the shots. He couldn't understand what Pulaski was saying to him but nodded when the detective pointed his thumb towards the door. Sam Evans picked up Sarah and carried his sister through the chaos that descended on the room.

He looked back once. The security guards were down and moaning in pain. Det. Brewster lay flat on his back, eyes open and unseeing, blood pooling beneath his body. His dad was choking as he was pulled out of the pool. Aside from swallowing some water, Paul Evans had apparently survived untouched. Sam turned away before his dad could look at him, feeling sick. His dad was alive. This wasn't over.

Sam sat on the couch in the conference room, one arm protectively around Sarah as she curled up on his lap. He was wearing too big scrubs provided by the hospital but at least the clothes were dry. Sam tuned out the background noises of sirens and police radios and the arguing between Det. Pulaski and his captain. His gaze slid over to Rachel and her dads at the table deep in discussion with the new CPS caseworker. They were deciding his fate and Sam was hard pressed to care.

Still dazed from everything that had happened, it took a few moments before Sam realized that Quinn was offering him a sandwich and drink and encouraging him to eat something.

"Later."

"Sweetie…" Quinn gave him an exasperated look. She reached over and brushed the bangs out of his eyes. "You need to take care of yourself, too."

"I will." He promised. "I just want to get my sister settled first."

He kissed Sarah's forehead and she snuggled against his side. He started singing softly, her favorite lullaby.

Goodnight, my angel

Time to close your eyes

And save these questions for another day.

I think I know what you've been asking me

I think you know what I've been trying to say.

Rachel looked over and smiled happily. Apparently something had been worked out because her dads left the table and were coming towards the couch.

I promised I would never leave you

And you should always know

Wherever you may go

No matter where you are

I never will be far away.

Rachel's dad-Sam thought his name was Royce-held his arms out to take Sarah. Sam had a moment of doubt but Rachel touched his arm and nodded. "She'll be in my room, Sam." Rachel flashed a confident grin. "Don't worry, she'll love it!"

Rachel's other dad-Reece?-quietly watched Sam with compassionate eyes as Royce and Rachel started chattering about how well they would take care of Sarah. From his expression, Sam had the impression that Rachel and Royce were often going off into their own little conversations and Reece tolerated them to a point. After a moment, he cleared his throat loudly to get their attention.

"You need to get Sarah home. I'll stay with Sam and call you in a bit."

Rachel reddened at the gentle admonishment. Reece gave Royce a quick kiss then watched as he carried Sarah out of the hospital, Rachel at his side.

Quinn's phone rang and she glanced at the incoming text.

"It's Mercedes. Again. She's outside with Tina and Artie. I really should let them know what's going on." She hugged Sam, careful of his back. "Are you okay if I leave?"

Sam nodded. He watched Quinn leave and only then realized he was alone with Reece. He had nothing against Rachel's dad, but Reece was a stranger and Sam longed for a familiar face. At that moment, Det. Pulaski walked in. He plopped next to Sam on the couch and Sam was struck by how weary he looked. Pulaski glanced at Reece then Sam.

"CPS get everything worked out?"

"Yeah." Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. "Now what?" He dreaded the thought of being dragged off to give yet another statement to yet another police officer.

"Now we go upstairs to ICU. I distract Papa Bear Hummel and you maybe get a chance to see Kurt."

"Really?" Sam was on his feet and halfway across the room before Pulaski had gotten off the couch.

"Should I come with you?" asked Reece.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't.", Det. Pulaski answered. "I'm sure Mr. Hummel has a lot of questions that he might not be comfortable asking in front of you."

"I understand. Sam, I'll be right here if you need anything."

Sam, anxious to leave, nodded curtly. "Thanks."

Det. Pulaski walked Sam up to Kurt Hummel's hospital room. They stood in the doorway, the detective standing protectively behind Sam, hands on his shoulders while Burt Hummel stood just as protectively-if not more so-in front of Kurt's bed, blocking their way.

Burt Hummel scrutinized the blonde teen from head to toe. Boyfriend. His son had a boyfriend. A secret one. Burt's frown deepened. Sure, he had said he wasn't ready to talk about boys but he hadn't meant for Kurt to feel like he had to hide his relationships. He crossed his arms.

"So, Kurt's boyfriend, you got a real name?"

"I'm Sam." Sam flashed a tired, half-hearted grin. "Sam I am."

"You're not gonna follow that with green eggs and ham are you?"

"Not any more."

Sam wavered . Burt felt a twinge of guilt. The kid had been through hell and was half-dead on his feet. Still, here he was checking on Kurt.

Burt pulled a chair over to Kurt's bedside and not too gruffly guided Sam into it. "Sit down before you fall down." Sam sank into the chair gratefully. "I need to have a word with Det. Pulaski." Burt cleared his throat. "Maybe you could keep an eye on Kurt while I step out?" Bleary eyed, Sam nodded.

To his credit, Burt Hummel only looked over his shoulder once as he left Sam alone with Kurt.

Kurt had tried to kill himself. Sam sighed. He should be wondering why and what he should have said or done to stop him. Wondering what Kurt had been thinking at the time. The truth was, there were too many thoughts in Sam's head at the moment. Yes, they would need to talk. Yes, there were questions he needed answers to. But for now, all Sam wanted to think about was that Kurt was still very much alive.

"I just want you to know-" Sam leaned over to whisper in Kurt's ear, "-you're sleeping on percale sheets. Polyester, Kermie. The stuff that causes premature wrinkles. Even worse, I'm pretty sure the pillow is foam rubber. And dude, seriously, you don't even want know how unflattering that hospital gown is. The sooner you wake up, the sooner you get to sleep in your own bed." A sad, half-smile of longing ghosted across Sam's face. "Not that we were doing much sleeping there."

Sam stroked his thumb across Kurt's lips.

"C'mon, Kermie."

He started singing softly under his breath, the words meant only for Kurt if he could hear them.

Is it okay if I call you mine?

Just for a time

And I will be just fine

If I know that you know that I'm

Wanting , needing your love.

His throat tightened and the last line came out in a choked whisper. Sam brushed his lips over Kurt's then wearily dropped his head to Kurt's cheek. So tired. The steady beat of Kurt's heart beneath his hand and his quiet, even breaths started lulling Sam to sleep.

"You better not croak on me."

Sam tried to laugh through his tears. And failed. He broke down and gave in to the emotions that had been battering him, crying against Kurt's shoulder until he was shaking from exhaustion. He was drifting off when he felt the comfortable intimacy of fingers stroking through his hair, familiar and reassuring.

"…ribbit…" Kurt murmured drowsily as he turned to nuzzle Sam's neck.