Song is Oceans by Evanescence
I'm getting real bad at this - but as usual please read and review
Nana woke from her restless sleep quickly. Her thoughts were her fuel, and she quickly darted downstairs, desperate to prove her mind wrong. Walking into the living room, she sighed in relief to see Sam, sound asleep. The sounds of a running shower revealed the location of Puck, so everyone was safe. Nana returned to her room to get changed, less edgy than before.
Sam woke, on the couch, in the same position as last night. Except that his arm was no longer wrapping his boyfriend. He blinked, harshly, attempting to remove some sleep from his eyes. Despite failing, he stood and stretched his arms, interlocking his fingers above his head until they cracked.
"Morning," said Puck as he walked into the room. Sam guessed he was freshly showered, considering he was sporting only a toweled waist. "Nice hair."
"Stop," Sam laughed, ducking from Puck's hand. He was rigid in his steps, his morning wood only partially at blame. "I shouldn't have sleep in my jeans," he lamented. "Can I have a shower?"
"No," Puck said, bemused. Then he laughed, causing Sam's panic to fade slightly. "Course, dude. Down the corridor and on the left."
"Thanks."
Puck watched Sam walk past, slapping his ass. He could feel Sam's grin even as he left the room.
Sam entered the kitchen, the monstrous slurps of Puck eating porridge attacking his ears. Puck barely looked up, but still managed to force Sam to sit with his free hand. Nana set him a bowl full to the brim, and the blond hoped he wasn't expected to eat all of it.
"Now Sam," Nana said, "Eat until you are full - but don't think you can get away with eating nothing. No-one has ever set foot in my kitchen without gaining five pounds."
Sam dreaded the thought but nonetheless picked up his spoon. He brought the food to his lips, but paused. "Did you hear that?" he questioned Puck.
Nana looked cautiously through the doorway, as though it was something she had anticipated. "Let me check." She left the kitchen swiftly, leaving an air of tension.
"Hear what?" Puck finally answered, having swallowed the last of his food.
"You!" A foul, familiar voice echoed through the air and Puck dropped his spoon with a clatter. His father was slowly advanced on the pair, his hands already balled into fists. "You foul, disgusting, loathsome child of mine."
Puck stood up, dragging Sam back away from the intruder. "W-what are you doing here?" Puck was trying to sound intimidating, but he spoke with a mere whimper.
"This. This is all your fault." He spat on the floor. He was drunk. "Stupid kid. I didn't properly get to say goodbye last time."
Puck looked around for a defensive weapon, only to realize there was nothing. Just him and Sam being cornered, defenceless. He shed a silent tear, and gripped Sam's shoulder until his knuckles were white, dragging the boy behind him.
Sam, despite all his fear, managed not to quiver. "Mr. Puckerman," he reasoned, "Please, just go away." But his words reached deaf ears as Mr. Puckerman raised his arm. "Mr. Puckerman, please!" It was only a split second, but Sam saw it coming. He pushed Puck to his left, and a large, relentless hand smashed down on his skull.
Pick didn't know whether he was confusing the sound of smashing dinnerware for a cracked skull, but it didn't stop his scream as Sam collapsed to the floor, the plates he knocked falling on him. He kneeled beside Sam, coincidentally dodging a blow from his father.
"Third time's the charm," Mr. Puckerman laughed, readying himself for a powerful punch.
"STOP. NOW."
A police officer stood in the doorway, armed, aiming at Mr. Puckermans forehead.
"Don't be afraid to shoot. I won't mind the mess." Behind him stood Nana, standing tall despite her five foot frame. She didn't fully react to Sam until her son was dragged out of the house in handcuffs. "Oh my God, Sam! Stay with him, Noah, I'll get help!" She chased after the policeman, leaving them alone again.
Puck cradled Sam's head with his arms, wishing he was comfort. He was too scared to move him, instead stroking his hair, wincing every time the skin underneath seemed bruised or soft.
"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered. "A lot of shit happens to you because of me. I hope you know I don't mean it."
In a matter of minutes an ambulance had arrived, and Sam was hulled onto a stretcher and placed into the vehicle. Puck wasn't allowed to be with him.
"What do you mean no?!" he said.
"Only family is allowed, and that's in the front. You'll have to meet him at the hospital. His parents have been notified."
"But- We're-!" Puck growled as the paramedic turned his back to him. He felt his Nana's consoling grip on his shoulder.
"It's okay, Noah, let it out."
"Let what out?" he choked, as if he didn't know.
"Don't give me that crap. You're allowed to have feelings." And that's when Noah broke, howling on the shoulder of his grandmother.
When Noah and Nana reached the hospital, they were told Sam was in his old room. They were just about to enter when Mary and her other two children exited. Puck would have been more relaxed at the encounter, but his dad had just smashed their sons skull something bad. Luckily Nana had the same train of thought.
"I'm so sorry for what my son has done to your son. My name is Beatrice Puckerman, Noah's grandmother." She shook hands with Mary, who still looked somewhat distant.
"Oh, this is not your fault," Mary said, twisting her fingers into knots. She glanced back at Sam's room, then the doctor's office. "I'm sorry, we have to go. We've already crowded the living daylights around Sam - I guess now it's your turn. See you." She smiled, one that looked seconds from tears as she turned away, her children at her tail.
Nana looked on helplessly. "Poor thing. She seems awfully upset over this."
"I don't think they can afford Sam's stay," Puck whispered. The blind's to Sam's room were shut, but he didn't take any chances. "They live in a motel. Ambulances are expensive."
Nana replied stiffly. "I believe as the ambulance was called by me, to my home, I will be taking the bill for that."
"Nana, you don't have to-"
"Yes I do." Puck's pleas were cut short. "I will wait outside. I don't want to crowd the boy, and you probably would like some alone time."
Puck hugged her, tightly. "Thanks, Nana."
"I'm just glad you can't get this one pregnant," she whispered back.
Puck walked inside, taking the seat next to the bed.
"Ah, memories," he said teasingly.
"Yeah," Sam smiled, sitting up. "We spend way too much time in hospitals. One more stay and I get a free colonoscopy."
Puck laughed. "How do you feel? I'm sorry about what my father did."
"They said there's no fractures or breaks in my neck - but they want to keep me supervised for a little while. Stay overnight until the x-rays come. So I'm fine... except my hand is cold," he added cheekily.
Puck rolled his eyes, linking their fingers. "That was the lamest thing you've ever said."
"Are you keeping tabs?"
"No, but I might start." Puck blew out a slow breath, finding it hard to keep the conversation.
Sam could sense the tension. "Relax, dude. Is there something up?"
He shook his head. "No." Sam stared. "Seriously..." Puck looked away, then back. "Okay, fine. I don't want to keep seeing you in pain. Especially if I'm the cause-"
"You're never the cause," Sam interjected.
"Really? My Dad gave you a fucking concussion, Sam. I love you, but I'm hurting you, and it hurts me."
Sam paused and withdrew his hand from Pucks, readjusting his bed sheets. "You're not hurting me, Puck." He blinked back defiant tears. "If you think for a second you can blame yourself - you're wrong. There isn't anything else better for my health than you right now." Sam patted the space on his bed, beckoning Puck to sit. "I want to share with you something I've tried to repress for a while. But it's you that's helping me get over it."
Puck sat quietly, already guessing the story he was about to be told.
Sam should have seen the signs of his deteriorating relationship. He should have predicted it - prevented it, even. but sadly he did not.
Don't wanna be the one to walk away
But I can't bear the thought of one more day
I think I finally understand what it means to be lost
The first clue, he guessed, was Sebastian's distance. It was gradual. He abandoned plans to meet in deserted classrooms for unknown reasons. Then he became less creative with their meetings, opting to send letters and notes, hastily scribbled and void of affection.
The second clue should have been the note that was slipped in Sams science book. It had distinct handwriting that he couldn't identify, but was signed -S. It told him to meet in the English classroom during dinner. He could only assume it was Sebastian.
Can't find the road to lead us out of this
A million miles from where we burned the bridge
Can't keep pretending that every thing's gonna be alright
The last clue should have the lack of noise from the cafeteria, or the snickers he thought he imagined coming from the English room as he approached. Even the sick feeling that, as he turned the doorknob, he would be confronted with the reason for Sebastian's distance.
Sam opened the door to the classroom. It had looked deceivingly empty. It wasn't. He managed to flick on the light switch just before an egg was cracked onto his chest.
With the whole world falling down on me
Cross the oceans in my mind
Find the strength to say goodbye
In the end you never can
Wash the blood from your hands
"What the fuck?" His eyes adjusted to the light, but then he just wanted to close them again. It must have been the whole year level, crowded at the back of the classroom. Stacks of empty egg cartons lined that walls and laced the hands of his classmates. Sebastian and Manuel stood in the middle, three eggs per hand. Sebastian just looked at Sam as though the past weeks were nothing.
Oh, we never learn
So we fall down again
"Told ya I could seduce him," he chuckled to Manuel. He initiated the egg throwing, ditching his handful that landed straight in Sam's face.
Heaven help me
Find your way to dream within this nightmare
Unable to process the thought of his whole year level hating him to such an extent to do this, Sam was pelted with more eggs before fleeing through the door, slipping on egg whites as he did so.
After he was out, he ran. He had to escape the echoes of laughter following him. He tried to deny his brain pity - refuse to think about everyone face he locked eyes with, each one relentless and disgusted. Tears began to sting his eyes. He pushed open the emergency exit he knew was unalarmed and ran blindly, following everything but his feet until he reached that same part in the forest.
Cross the oceans in my mind
Find the strength to say goodbye
Everything we believed in was a lie
He found the tree that boasted their initials and ran his hand over the coarse bark. All the strength in the world couldn't have stopped his mouth from dropping into a frown. He ran over the embedded letters again, this time harder. Digging his nails into the grooves, crying, wailing out his frustration. His fingers splintered and bled, but Sam didn't stop until the tree was a patch skinless.
Falling so far from where we were before
You'll never find what you've been searching for
Something to fill the void and
Make up for all of those missing pieces of you
Angry tears poured still, as he turned away from the tree. He roared, but the sound caught in his throat and finished as a wail. He backed into the tree, sliding down it to hug his knees and wish he could just sink into the grass and die.
In the end you never can
Wash the blood from your hands
When Sam finished his story, Puck looked sympathetic.
"I'm sorry, dude-" Puck began.
"Stop apologizing," Sam butted in, half laughing. He seemed like a weight had been lifted. "I know you're concerned, but this is why you're not bad for me. You care about me, unlike some other people I've met."
Puck giggled, curling up beside Sam and pecking his neck. "I guess so, who else would stay with you in this small-ass hospital bed?"