A/N WARNING… strong emotional content and graphic sexual crime in this chapter.
Please, if you have triggers related to sexual abuse, sexual crime or sexual assault, please be mindful that this chapter may disturb you.
The Ringleader
Mercedes heard the elevator sound and she rushed to it, expecting Sam and Sunshine. What she heard was a couple of her favorite voices, instead, "Breakfast!" Emma Pillsbury announced.
"Emma!" Mercedes squealed and hurried to her friend.
"Watch out, Mercedes. There's stuff in your floor. You kids were pretty far gone when you got into the cab last night," Beiste said. "Put that one on the counter for me, please, Sam." Sam obeyed the woman, placing a huge tray that she asked him to help her get out of the car onto the kitchen counter.
Mike and Tina were just starting to stir on the couch and Quinn was pouring coffee into several cups, but had obviously also squeezed some juice and pulled out some milk and water, too. Sam figured this was another one of their traditions, and was still impressed that these people came together like this for Mercy. Emma went to hug Quinn and kiss her on the cheek, as she set down the covered platters that she'd held. Mercedes asked out, "Can I move yet. Or what? Did anybody pick up whatever is in my floor?"
Sam scrambled to get Mike's cell phone and shirt out of her way, then held her hand to guide her to the table. "Thanks, Sam." She always knew. Even if she might have done that with everyone, it still would have made his heart flutter. She knows the touch of my hand… or maybe it's that me smelling like Sam thing… That's still weird, but it's ultra-cute.
"Puck was driving up when we were unloading, so he should be up soon," Emma said, greeting Mercedes with a hug and a kiss. "And we'll wait on Artie, Kurt and Shane, of course." Sam noticed that most of the others looked in his direction at the mention of Shane. Emma didn't. He wondered how much she knew. "I have to get the plans for this year's April Showers Blessings Drive out of the car. I want to go over them with you, since you're hosting, this year."
Beiste announced, "I'll get them, Emma. You haven't been able to see the kids in months. Settle down and get comfortable." The larger woman gave the smaller one a little squeeze on the side that Sam noticed as affectionate and tilted his head. When Emma responded by giving Beiste a brief kiss on the nose, before walking Mercedes to the loveseat, Sam realized, it was another pair of them. Beiste patted him heartily on the shoulder on her way back to the elevator.
Tina spoke up with the question, "Mercedes is hosting this year? I thought it was Shane's turn."
"No, no… it's at Shane's place, because we just don't have the room here for how big the event has gotten, but I'm in charge of planning it, still; and Sam doesn't know anything about it, so…" she nodded her head, and the others seemed to understand whatever it was that she wasn't saying. Sam opened his mouth to ask, but was cut off by Emma.
"Take off your shirt, Sam," she said.
He chuckled and said, "Excuse me?"
Emma spoke more firmly, now. "Over the past few months, I've heard a lot about you and your past. I haven't had the chance to meet you or see you."
"And you think that me taking off my shirt will somehow give you that chance?"
"It will allow me to see you," she said.
"But, what's under this shirt is not me. It's… my past."
"Our scars are a part of us, as much as we hate to admit it. We use our scars as a testament of our survival. We use our flaws as proof that we are still human, even when the world around us sees us as less than," she said. Mercedes was stroking the woman's hand as she made this speech. Sam did not know how to feel. This was the second time that Mercedes had invited him somewhere that he was put as the center of attention in a group of unfamiliar people, and he hated that and was getting pissed off at her. Plus, Shane was going to be there, again. The last time was emotional enough, and now, Sam was operating on spurts of sleep and a massive hangover. Then, Puck would be there too…
"Sam, how are you ever going to be able to show people who you are now if you're afraid of showing them who you used to be?" Emma asked. "I won't pressure you. That's not what I'm here for, but I will say that you can't get passed your past until you see it for what it is."
Sam furrowed his brows and decided not to reply. He glanced at Tina, who was looking at him, thoughtfully, then at Quinn, who as soon as he looked her way, lowered her head. Emma began to talk in a cheery voice, now, "Shannon told me that you all took over the karaoke last night. What songs did I miss? Mercedes, you and Santana didn't sing River Deep, Mountain High, did you?"
"No, I didn't get a chance to sing with Santana. She's opening the store this morning. I sung with Puck, then later on, I sung like five songs, or something and I don't remember. Somebody gave me Tuaca, and I told y'all not to hand me that."
"I think that Brittany did that, by accident," Mike said, as he put on his shirt, preparing to leave, it looked like. Sam glanced at him, surprised that he could speak. He hardly ever heard Mike talk. The mood in the room was weird, with Emma there. And when Mike waved to him and disappeared onto the elevator, Sam really felt like an outsider. Even though Mercedes was in the room, he felt like something had happened, and he was cut off from his connection to her. He had to be near her. He made his way towards the loveseat when Quinn came and sat on the other side of her, handing her a mug of coffee as she did.
"This oughtta help," she said. Sam walked behind the seat and leaned against it, glaring at the back of Quinn's head to try to make it explode. The elevator door opened again and Puck rolled Artie's chair off of it and Beiste followed them, holding several huge binders in her arms. Sam rushed to help her with them as the rest of the group verbally assaulted Puck.
"Thank you SO MUCH for leaving us at the bar!" and "I'm surprised you showed your face after ditching all of your drunk homies!"
Puck just looked at Artie and said his name, to which Artie said, "I tried to tell you guys that he would definitely be back, that he'd definitely not leave when he knew I was there, but you didn't listen. He came back and I had a nice, drama free ride home." He shrugged.
"Where's Lauren?" Sam asked.
Puck threw him a shocked look and asked, "What's he doing here?"
"I invited him," Mercedes said.
"You invited him? What made you think you had the right to do that?" Puck asked. "Just because this is your place, that doesn't mean you can just control things like that and this dude is an outsider. I'm sure he feels like one. If I knew that we were just bringing in our flavor of the week, Lauren would be here, too."
"That's enough, Puckerman!" Beiste snapped.
Puck clenched his fists and said, "Shane is down the road with my daughter in the car with him. Does he know that Sam is going to be here? I don't want my daughter seeing her godfather in his upset mode."
"I called Shane and told him. He thought it was a wonderful idea, to have Sam meet Emma. Anyway, Beth never comes inside of these meetings. She'll be down in the shop with Santana and Lauren." Mercedes said, calmly. Sam wondered what was going on with her. The way that Puck exploded and she just took it… this entire situation was bizarre.
"Look, I'll just get out of here. I don't want to be the cause of trouble."
"You mean you don't want to be the outsider. You don't want to be the only white guy in a room full of broken pieces of people," Tina accused.
"I don't even know what that means, Tina!" He snapped at her, "I'm the only broken person that I even see in the room, except for Puck's defect ass." Puck stepped forward, but Beiste simply threw him a look that made him be still.
"It's interesting that you see it that way, Sam. Seven years ago, you might have saw it altogether different. When that happens, I call it living your life in reverse," Emma said.
"Are you a shrink?" Sam asked, suspiciously. "Is that why when I got out, everybody kept trying to put me up in your bed and breakfast, so that you could try to psycho analyze me? Because I've been to shrinks, and pastors, and doctors…"
"Sam." Her voice was enough to calm him. Sam looked at Mercedes, holding her hand out in front of her and he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Mercy. I'm going to go," he said, and rushed to the elevator.
"I told you," he heard Puck say.
Sam made his way downstairs, having already showered and dressed, he went to find Santana. "Anything I need to do today?" He asked.
She raised an eyebrow and said, "You're scheduled off today… and aren't you supposed to be at the breakfast?" Shane and Beth came inside and Sam turned his attention to the ceiling and tried to avoid the fact that the guy was even passing by them. Shane obviously was in support of this, as he didn't even speak to Santana before stepping onto the elevator.
"No. I couldn't deal. It was too creepy," Sam finally said. "I'll talk to Mercy later. Just wasn't my thing. That Emma is a little strange."
Santana said, "Emma Pillsbury and Shannon Beiste kept me from trying to kill myself again after my grandmother disowned me for being a lesbian. Maybe if you tried to give people a chance before you make opinions about them, they might be more willing to do the same for you, Lisa Rinna." She handed him the keys to the van and patted him on the shoulder. "Make yourself disappear. Or go to your room, or something."
"Wait… did you really try to kill yourself?" He asked.
She sighed and said, "My mom was sick and my dad was going through a lot to be there for her. I didn't want to burden them with my coming out. So, I told the closest person I had, and she disowned me on the spot. I figured, maybe I'll have a chance to tell mom, on the other side. Mercedes found me. It was when she first opened the shop as her own, and it was just her, me, Quinn and Tina in the place. I was sleeping in the back room; I was the first person to ever sleep in the back room, in fact. The three of them were roommates in the apartment. They were going to have breakfast, and Mercedes wanted me to come. They didn't really care for me – this group can be a little weary of new people. Cedes came to get me, anyway. I was full of every pill that I could get my hands on and if she wouldn't have been so loud coming in, she would've thought that I was only sleeping. She thought it was strange that I didn't even groan, so she shook me and I wouldn't wake up.
I felt like a failure, afterwards. I'd written this elegant note and everything, and still messed up. I was thinking – next time I'll find a gun. I took one of the faultiest ways to do this ever. But, Mercedes had called her friend Emma and Emma took me in for free into her bed and breakfast. She and Beiste gave me free grief counseling, not only for my mother, but for my suicide attempt and they personally mentored me on accepting my sexuality. Then, I met Brittany at the April Showers Blessings event that year and we started slow and we are endgame." She shrugged with a smile. Santana was a lovely woman, especially when Brittany's name came up. Sam wanted that kind of love. It was beautiful.
"Wait – April Showers Blessings… what is that?" He asked, having heard Emma mention it a moment ago.
"It's a charity event for the overlooked members of society who need charity – battered women, abused children, rape survivors, orphans, people who have lost children, and mentally handicapped, etc… the ones that aren't normally noticed or cared for, you know? Emma and Beiste started it and they have one of the guys head up the arrangements every year. That's what you boxed up all of Cedes' clothes for."
"So, they give out clothes?"
"They do more than that. They have awareness booths for workshops to get people to understand the stats of people's situations and to understand the differences of other people and how to respond to them. They give out things, but they also have crisis counselors available, in case some needs to talk and religious leaders, in case someone feels like they need that, as well. You'd get more insight if you were at the breakfast," she told him.
Kurt came dragging in, wearing a pair of dark glasses and grabbed Sam's hand, too which, Sam jumped away from him. "I was instructed to bring you back to the breakfast, because I'm the late one and Mercy wants you there, despite the uproar that it's causing among the besties."
"You mean with Puck," Sam corrected. "No thanks, and don't just grab my hand. You can't just touch people, Kurt. Not everyone is so affectionate."
"I apologize. Enjoy your day," Kurt said, dryly, then headed to the elevator. Sam sighed and spun the keys on his fingers as he headed to the backroom to retrieve his journal. After that, he left the shop. Maybe he should make himself disappear for a while.
Did he have any scratch paper? He'd have to pick some up somewhere. He called Lauren and got her voicemail, "Hey – I texted you several times last night. I'm starting to worry. Call me back, please?" Really, he called because he wanted to know how much she knew about Emma Pillsbury, but now – he really was worried. He decided to stop by her house, but also didn't want to worry. It was still morning. He would give her at least until noon before freaking out. She had been drinking and probably in all reality had sex last night. He shuddered to think it – her with Puck, and the fact that Puck had referred to her as "flavor of the week" this morning didn't help.
Sam stopped at a dollar store to get a pack of scratch paper and headed to the library. He was trying to find some of the more seriously insulted and injured people on his list and had very little information on most of them. Even in a small town, everyone didn't exactly know everyone and he didn't have contacts to just ask around about any of these people. After hours of research and taking notes, his phone buzzed. He looked at the photo of he and Lauren that he'd snapped of them with his phone. In it, he was excitedly smiling, exaggeratedly large and she had on what they called her GRRR face. "Lauren!" He answered.
"I asked you to save me last night, and instead, you let me leave with Puckerman and forced me to listen to his whining all night," she said.
"Whining? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" He asked.
"We didn't have sex, Evans. You don't have to get your shotgun, unless you feel like doing me a favor and shooting him for wasting my goddamned time and killing my buzz, after he got me all hot and flustered. I had to call in one of my old booty calls – and I once promised myself I'd never to that." He laughed, but he was relieved that she was alright and even that she and Puck had not had sex. "I'm coming into the shop in a couple of hours."
"I'm not there. I actually think I have a hit on someone from school that I owe an apology. I want to try to call her. It's gonna be a tough one."
"Good luck and if you need to talk, you know where to find me," she told him.
Sam dialed a number on his phone and when a woman picked up, he said, "Hello… um… is this Aphasia?"
She paused for a moment, then asked, "Who's speaking, please?"
"My name is Sam Evans. I think that we…"
"I can't believe this," she cut him off. "I heard your voice and I thought to myself, surely not. Surely, that isn't really him, but you actually had the audacity to call me."
"I wanted to apologize to you. I know that probably means nothing to you, but in case it does – I needed to let you know how sorry I am for what I did to you."
"Will you meet me and say it to my face?" The woman asked him.
"Yes," Sam responded, without a second thought. He knew that probably wasn't wise, because for all he knew, she would have him shot down the moment he arrived, wherever it was. But, he had participated in hurting her, very much and if the fact that more than seven years later, she still recognized his voice was any indication – emotionally and mentally scarring her.
Sam looked through the window of the crowded restaurant and saw a slew of black faces. He didn't even realize that there were this many black people in all of the town, but apparently, this was one of those places that they all came to, he guessed to have some place of their own. When he entered, many of them stared at him. He wondered how many would recognize his face from the news and hoped that if anyone did, they would presume that he simply looked like the former Nazi ex-con that had been released from prison a few months before today.
"Can I help you, Sir?" The clerk asked when Sam didn't take a seat.
"No, sorry. I was just looking for someone," he said and searched the room again. Then, he saw her, seated, glaring at him with quivering lips and damp eyes. She had gained a lot of weight since school, but he could remember exactly how she used to look and that was the same face that he once saw a sixteen year old version of her look at him with. He approached and she stood up, warily. "Aphasia, hi. Could we sit?" He asked. She waited until he sat and placed his hands on top of the table before she returned to her seat.
"Between you and Jesse St. James, I really don't know who has more audacity," she said.
Sam twitched when he heard that name come from her mouth. He knew eventually, he would have to settle some things with Jesse, but hearing his name from her mouth shocked him. "Did Jesse apologize to you too?"
"Are you kidding me? Jesse St. James refuses to acknowledge that anyone he has ever done any harm to even exists. He married a black woman and parades her around like a trophy. Beautiful woman, perfect body, some kind of stage dancer or something; used to be a stripper."
"Giselle?" He said, just remembering the woman.
"So, you have been in touch with your old friend," she said.
"No… I know Giselle… well, sort of. I remember her mentioning a Jesse, but I didn't think anything of it." He shook his head, "But, I'm not here to talk about Jesse and his new wife…"
"Really? Because, I think you should talk about Jesse. I mean, I always got the feeling that he was the ringleader in your little hate group. He was the oldest. He always seemed to be inciting the rest of you. He has yet to ever have to answer for anything that he ever did, while all of the rest of you have gotten caught, at one time or another and been punished. Don't you think that he should have to answer for his sins?"
"His sins are not up to me. Those are between he and God," Sam said.
She smiled, a small smile and glared at him. "It's never your problem when it happens to one of us," she said. "If I were a white woman with blond hair and someone did to me what you and your friends did, would it be up to you, then?"
"I… I want to…"
"You want to kill your guilt!" She snapped at him and several patrons looked there direction.
"Yes, but – I just… I need you to know how I feel about what I did. What Jesse did, what Dave did; I can't answer for them. I can only answer for me."
"You could answer for me. I spoke up and was shut down. Everyone in school called me a lying whore. My locker and car were vandalized, my so called friends became fewer and fewer, and I still to this day have triggers that seem so trivial to other people, but send my entire world crashing down." She was holding the tears in and Sam knew that she just didn't want to let him see that he could make her cry. "If you, someone who was actually involved in those crimes against us would just step up and admit what happened…"
"Then Jesse St. James would simply discredit me, too. Aphasia – Jesse's family has money. He was always spoiled. When I first met him, it was the first thing that I noticed and I hated him, but at the same time, he was the most popular guy in school and I wanted to be in the in group."
"Do you really think that you saying that to me helps anything?"
"I'm just explaining that he is not going to get in trouble for what he's done. He's a rich, white male who has never been in trouble before. I'm an ex-con. I wish that I could help you, but I can't."
"I got pregnant," she said. "I had an abortion, but… it was still a painful experience. There's a certain level of psychological damage to know that you're taking away what could become a life because of who put it there, not because of the child itself or who it could have come to be."
Sam didn't know what to say. He hadn't had sex with her, and as far as he knew, Jesse hadn't either, but Dave… "And Dave is dead," she told him. "Turns out that not only was he a racist rapist, but that fool ended up being gay and ultimately killed himself. I wish he had done it sooner, and to be honest, your life doesn't mean anything to me, either." She stood up and said, "Now, you got your half-assed apology out of the way, I'm going to try to go enjoy the rest of my life." She walked away and Sam sat for a moment.
Jesse was the instigator. It was like he was so used to barking commands, after years of being a spoiled, filthy rich brat that when he did it, it seemed natural to just obey. Sam and Dave were generally following Jesse around. To be honest, he had an entourage, but those two were his prized minions. Aphasia couldn't give a crap about him or his influence. She still made it her business to challenge him and to tell him off, when the time arose. Sam supposed Jesse didn't too much like that. Sam held the camera, Jesse gave the instructions and Dave did whatever the hell he was told. Aphasia wasn't the first, but she was the first at their school. Generally, they left town for that kind of thing. It wasn't wise to hit close to home, Jesse would say on the drive, but Aphasia became the exception.
Sam didn't touch her, though he said some pretty horrendous things about all of it, in a very casual manner as he made the recording for Jesse. Jesse loved to be in control and he loved to watch, so that's what he did. Sam commented that this wasn't his thing, because he didn't like "sex with animals." Dave restrained the girl on all fours and took her by force, until Jesse got off. Jesse liked to finish in her mouth and try to force her to swallow. Then, Dave would do his favorite part – sodomize her and pin her arms behind her as he did. Sam made the tape.
Aphasia was the only one who Sam had a name for, and she was right… something had to be said about it. Something had to be done, but he didn't think that he was the one for that. He couldn't stomach the thought of going back to prison, because that was certainly what would happen if he decided to try to confess to what happened to her and the other six girls (that he knew of). Hell, for all he knew, Jesse had been doing that for years. For all he knew, Jesse continued long after he was arrested and put away. For all he knew, Jesse was doing that today. People come change, but shouldn't they have to answer for their crimes against humanity?
Sam got up and chased after Aphasia, "Aphasia!" He called and she stopped. "I am willing to go to counseling, to speak with a priest, to even come out and say that yes, that did happen… but I can't go back to prison. It was hard and rough, and it is going to follow me for the rest of my life, already. If I go back, I won't make it. But here, I can help change things. I can reach out to people and try to keep them from making the mistakes that I made when I was younger…"
"Well, good luck with that. I don't want to be a part of it," she told him. "How dare you even look me up with the intention of us shaking hands and being friends. If you were truly sorry, you would do the right thing, and that is to come forward. You aren't the only one who has something terrible following them for the rest of life, and yours was a choice!" She stomped away and got into her car. When she drove off, Sam had lost all confidence. There was no way that he could complete that list. The pain in his heart for having stirred up that woman's emotions that way and for what? So he could say that he was sorry? That didn't do anything for her. She wanted justice.