#kaybee!writes

[kaybee1980]

Next one should be up soon...

[insidesamevans]

For those of you that follow this. The next two chapters are safely in the hands of my beta readers. So here's hoping I can keep it up lol.

[insidesamevans]

Sleepless

A/N: I don’t know why I wrote this. It’s sad. I usually write fluff. But whatevs… Set after the season 5 finale. Enjoy!

Sleepless

January 2015 Lima, OH 10:20 pm

It was a blizzardy Friday evening, and a determined –yet fatigued- Sam Evans trudged the walkway leading to his new home. As his heavy boots kicked freshly fallen flurries and slid precariously over the ice that threatened to derail his footing, Sam attempted to breathe deeply…the chilly winds burning his insides painfully as he inhaled, freezing visibly when the air left his lungs. The biting winds and swirling snow -normal for winter in the Midwest- made the simple of task of opening the front door difficult for the fumbling young man, and as he struggled used his keys, Sam swore underneath his breath; fingers refusing to cooperate in the thick leather gloves he wore. Somehow Sam finally managed to succeed, and let himself in…puffing heavily and immediately welcoming the heat radiating from the furnace he’d purposely left blasting all day.

Taking a deep breath, Sam shook off his backpack, removed his heavy coat and gloves, kicked off his boots, and threw the beanie he sported haphazardly in the general direction of the table where he’d deposited his keys. Sam adjusted the thermostat -knowing that he’d be kicking off covers later if he didn’t- then surveyed his surroundings as he did every time he returned to them. A half grin played across his lips.

To his left was the living room, filled to bursting with a large sectional sofa, an assortment of tables, a lounger, and a huge entertainment center featuring the best video game equipment his modeling residuals could buy. Beyond that lay the kitchen and miniature bar …full of fancy cookware, late-night tv convenience gadgets, and an assortment of Star Wars collectible shot glasses —the latter a much-appreciated housewarming gift from Blaine. There were two wooden bar stools on prominent display -Sam’s favorite place to have breakfast- and matching dining room furniture facing the glass sliding door that opened to reveal his beloved patio and deck.

Sam’s home boasted a half bath, just underneath the steps leading to the two bedrooms and two full bathrooms upstairs. Framed pictures of his friends and family covered every flat surface and most of the wall space, and the young man grinned…just as he always did when taking in their smiling faces. Sam bounded up those stairs, tired and ready to rest, praying that this night wouldn’t be yet another in a long line of sleepless ones. It’d been almost two years, now…and they’d become a pretty bad habit he wished to break.

Sam sighed for the first time that evening as he stepped onto the second floor landing…no two ways about it, he was tense, and exhausted to distraction. Sam’s schedule these days was demanding…it was a schedule he maintained purposefully, in order to stay busy and have less downtime. Today, he’d left his home almost fifteen hours before, spent the biggest part of his day at McKinley High, then attended three classes at Lima University before meeting with his Biology tutor. Sam’s life was hectic…and often left him run down. And although Sam could admit that he pushed himself too hard, there was an upside…sheer volume of activity sometimes insured him a good night’s rest.

He passed the guest room, the hall bathroom, even more framed photographs… and finally entered his inner sanctum –desperately hoping this would be the case tonight. As he cleared the doorjamb, Sam felt a warm –but fleeting- sense of absolute peace. He loved the plaid window curtains that fluttered in the breeze on those calm spring days when windows begged to be opened. He grinned proudly at the complicated IKEA computer desk he’d spent hours lovingly assembling all on his own. Sam admired the paisley rug bearing a large blue splotch that he thought resembled the Green Lantern’s ring insignia. And he thoroughly appreciated the large Avatar mural he was currently in the process of painting on the double doors of the closet. This room, more than any other place Sam had ever slept, was all his. Then he glanced at his huge four poster bed -incidentally, an exact replica of the bed he’d once shared with Mercedes in New York- and immediately, Sam’s body re-tensed.

Shaking off the thought, Sam quickly stripped off the flannel button down he wore, the cherry-red long-sleeved Henley tee underneath, and his jeans. In socks and boxers, he made his way to the ensuite bathroom and turned on the shower. While he washed the day from his skin, Sam thought about the past several months of his life.

When he left New York City the previous May, Sam had once again found himself at a crossroads in his life. He’d been happy to be back in Lima, while at the same time unable to put NYC out of his mind. Both good and bad things had happened to him there…in almost equal measure. And Sam honestly had no clue whether to count his time in the Big Apple as something he felt proud of, or as an experience he’d regret for the rest of his life.

It was true that he’d managed to rekindle and nurture the most important relationship of his life while there; true that his love for Mercedes had grown in the months they’d spent together as roommates and partners. But it was also true that he’d lost her again…and had no clue when or if they were likely to find each other for a fourth time. Sam had managed to make a long-held professional fantasy come true, and was proud of himself for doing so. But he also resented what he’d had to endure before said fantasy was realized. He’d loved the time he spent with his closest friends; loved learning how to navigate the waters of real adult life alongside them…but in the end Sam learned that he was expected to find his own footing independent of them all, and the realization had hurt deeply. All things considered, young Evans sometimes wished –more than anything else- that he could place his experiences in the metropolis firmly behind him; forget them, and start planning his real future…but memories of the past year and sleepless nights spent reliving them made his wish unlikely to come true.

The first thing Sam had done, after returning to Lima, was visit McKinley High. If most of his friends were confused by him leaving the big city and returning to one where neither his family nor his friends now lived, they showed a lot of tact by not mentioning it to his face. But the truth was, whenever Sam felt at odds with himself or lost in any way, being in Lima helped. Even moreso than the city itself, McKinley High was a place where Sam always felt grounded and at home. Maybe it was because he’d had some of the best times of his life in that choir room over the years. Or perhaps the reason lay in the fact that his Glee friends had never neglected to be there for him, through those good –and other, not so good- times. Whatever the reason, Sam knew that there were big decisions to be made about his future, and that his alma mater in Lima, OH was the place where he'd most likely make the right ones.

Once there, the familiarity of the place had hit Sam like a ton of bricks. He smirked, inhaling the same old, musky, hallway smell. He chuckled at the sight of two or three Titans wielding freshly-dispensed slushies, no doubt to use on some unsuspecting socially inferior peer. Ahead, a Cheerio and her burly boyfriend snuck into a janitor’s closet, apparently to take advantage of an end-of-the-school year lax in attendance taking. Former Principal Figgins nodded in recognition of the youth he’d once referred to as a “sexy teen imbecile” as he dry-mopped the freshly waxed linoleum. As he walked purposely toward the choir room, Sam was overwhelmed with the sensation that he was in exactly the right place to figure out what he needed to do next… he had every confidence that his next move would come to him, the very instant he entered the choir room.

The feeling, however, left him as soon as he peeked in the door window. His favorite classroom in the entire school had been transformed in the months since his high school graduation; it was now a dusty computer lab. Mr. Schue’s whiteboard had been replaced with huge projector screens. The risers where he and his friends had sang and goofed off were gone; computer desks having taken their place. Brad’s piano corner was now home to a teacher’s table, where an unfamiliar-looking man wearing tortoiseshell glasses and a plaid blazer with elbow patches now sat using his phone to play Bingo Bash. Sudden pangs of disappointment filled Sam’s chest, as he realized for the first time that plotting his future might prove much more difficult than he’d originally thought.

Knowing that he needed the advice of someone he trusted to help him now, Sam first contemplated visiting Mrs. Schuester. She was, obviously, the guidance counselor…and she’d attempted to help him once before. Her advice about colleges that didn’t require SAT scores and scholarships that relied on his abilities as an essay writer notwithstanding, Sam knew Emma could probably shed some much-appreciated light on what he needed to do in order to start building his life as an adult. Truth be told, if Sam hadn’t had his heart set on getting his photo on the side of a bus, he might have already tried things her way anyway. All in all, Mr. Schue’s wife seemed to Sam like an excellent source to tap...the blond was halfway to her office before he remembered that the redhead was probably still on maternity leave.

Still standing in the lonely hallway, Sam then debated the merits of seeking out Coach Bieste for some advice. She’d always had a lot of sympathy for her boys, something Sam could use a little of right now, to be honest. And according to Puck, Coach Bieste was extremely skilled in the art of helping a body grieve. Sam knew he would be in mourning over his relationship with Mercedes for quite some time, knew he would miss Blaine and Artie now that everyone seemed intent on scattering to the winds… Furthermore, he and Coach had gotten close during Superhero Club meetings Sam’s senior year, and the young man truly respected Shannon’s pragmatic approach to problem solving. There was a good chance his former football coach could help him get his life together.

With that in mind, Sam turned and shuffled towards the teacher’s lounge. He snuck in, and there at a table reading, sat Will Schuester. Immediately, Sam quickly changed his mind about finding Coach Bieste, and decided to approach the former Spanish teacher instead. When Will raised his head to see who’d cast a shadow on his book, he beamed, stood up, and embraced Sam like a long-lost friend.

Sam and Will spent the remainder of Will’s free period discussing the past year. Sam described all that he had seen and done in New York, entertaining his former teacher with tales of life in the big city. He bragged about the modeling jobs he’d landed, and recounted stories of things Will’s former students had done. He took out his phone in order to show Will pictures from Rachel’s opening night, Kurt’s debut as Peter Pan, Mercedes’ first stop on her mall tour, Blaine’s showcase, and Artie’s film festival. They laughed about Santana’s career attention deficit…Sam animatedly describing to a laughing Will how the feisty Latina had been a publicist, a backup singer, and a Broadway understudy, all in the span of about three weeks! Then Sam asked for updates on Jake, Marley, Unique, Ryder, and Kitty.

Just before the bell rang, Sam timidly broached the subject of Glee Club. Sitting there, he’d felt a strong compulsion to re-build New Directions and help make it better than ever. Tentatively, Sam asked if Will would be interested in overseeing the group. After explaining to Will that he’d be receiving residuals for his Treasure Trailz campaign for as long as the commercial slots aired and the bus ads were sold, he promised to underwrite any and all expenses for the year. Sam was certain that the Baby-Gleeks would re-join; in fact, he was sure that they’d be ecstatic about it! Sam knew without a doubt that he could help Mr. Schue take Nationals again…that they could reclaim their former glory using his money and healthy influx of great ideas. Sam was finally in a position to give back a little bit of what the club had given him over the years…and he seriously thought doing so could help him find his footing in life, form a plan.

As Sam fondly remembered his own role in saving the Club the previous season alongside Blaine, he even promised to do most of the work; gave Will Schuester the option of being faculty advisor in name only. Sam figured he could use what he knew to take the main prize; at the very least it would give him a project to focus on this summer, Sam mused, certain Schuester would be very quick to agree.

Will was moved by Sam’s speech, going so far as to reminisce about similar speech made by Finn in this same room. But he politely declined Sam’s offer. Will now had Daniel and Emma to support, he explained to a bewildered Sam, and important adult relationships to foster. He’d begun New Directions, the History teacher went on, because his life at the time was lacking in a lot of things. He’d been unfulfilled, unhappy, and grasping for straws. These days, Will continued, he realized that his close relationships with the Glee kids were a crutch; they were something he’d clung to in an attempt to ignore his loveless marriage, his inadequacies as a Spanish teacher, and his many dreams gone unfulfilled. Now the seasoned teacher had a happy marriage, a job he was finally good at, and a son of his own to boot! Will had new dreams now, and wanted to focus on them…

Sam understood Will’s position, and realized with pride that Will no longer saw him as a child he didn't wish to disappoint. And although he'd hoped the answer would be different, Sam knew Will was only acting in his own best interests. So when he made his goodbyes, he did so with a half-hearted smile on his lips and a worried expression in his eyes. After congratulating Mr. Schue once again on the baby, he left and made tracks for the Hummel-Hudson home. Carole Hummel, still not used to having an empty nest, welcomed Sam and his huge duffel bag inside with open arms. After insisting that he stay indefinitely while figuring out his next steps, she made them each a cup of cocoa and invited the blond to sit at the kitchen table for a long talk. She could tell Sam had a lot on his mind and wanted to help ease his worries.

Sam began by explaining everything he’d neglected to tell Will about the time he’d spent in the Big Apple…things Carole probably already knew about and understood before he even opened his mouth. He knew that Kurt had more than likely dished with his stepmom in the beginning about Sam’s dislike for the city, his inability to sleep at night, and how hard it had been for him to find meaningful work in his field. Sam was aware that Finn’s mom already knew that Sam’s tenuous sanity had found a stronghold when Mercedes came into town; understood without asking that Mercedes had been Sam’s rock, simply by getting him out of the overcrowded loft and allowing him feel less lonely.

Carole was also aware that Sam and his former girlfriend had grown up a lot since their high school days, and that losing the relationship a third time was harder than it had been before…they’d made declarations, promises, and stated their intentions this time around. Her heart went out to Sam as he admitted that the breakup had rocked him to the core.

After pouring out his heart, Sam sadly described Will’s rejection of his plan to reform Glee, and how he’d hoped to use that as a stepping stone to wherever ended up in life. Romantic woes momentarily set aside, Carole could see Sam’s disappointment was twofold… The sympathetic woman’s heart went out to her dejected honorary third son and she silently made up her mind to help him figure things out.

After listening to Sam’s diatribe and nodding quietly for quite some time, Carole gently asked Sam if he would like some unsolicited advice. Because he trusted Carole as much as he did his own mom, Sam readily accepted. Mrs. Hummel knew she had nothing but sympathy and platitudes to offer with respect to Sam’s love life, and sensing he wanted neither, she avoided addressing it altogether. However, she had several ideas about the problems he was having in other areas, so she laid them all out for him to mull over.

Carole first suggested that Sam do what Finn had done, just before he passed away. Namely, find a school -any school- that would accept his application based on his high school performance as is…and enroll for classes in the fall. She advised Sam to choose courses in every subject that interested him, and take his time to do well in them while enjoying the college experience before declaring a major. She told him to live in a dormitory or get an off-campus apartment, so as to develop a true understanding of taking care of himself as a responsible adult…despite the fact that she would have preferred to have him in her own home. Finally, Carole suggested that Sam only go to McKinley High School every day if he could find a professor willing to give him college credit for doing so.

Finn, Carole explained to a rapidly nodding Sam, never had any real professional goals in mind when he agreed to oversee the Glee Club. He'd done so, because he was flailing and found comfort in the familiar. It had never occurred Sam’s deceased friend to become a teacher, until his relationship with Will became volatile, she went on. What Sam needed, in Carole’s opinion, was to find a place where he belonged, and do so without anyone else’s undo influence. There was no doubt in Carole’s mind that Sam would do great things in his life, but he was much more likely to find out what they were if he trusted his own instincts and took steps to ensure the proper foundation.

Sam saw the wisdom in Carole’s words, understood that she’d been looking forward to seeing her son claim his own greatness at some point…he also sympathized, knowing that now she never would. And he believed in her predictions, enough to put a newly thought out plan into action. So he called his mother in Kentucky, flew his entire family out to Lima for the weekend, and spent the next forty-eight hours indulging in an Evans/Hummel Family brainstorm.

Surprisingly enough, he found out that Lima University had been more than willing to offer a place in their hallowed halls to a slightly incredulous Sam Evans. It was true that his cumulative high school GPA was less than stellar, and that his standardized test scores were nothing short of abominable. But while at McKinley, Sam had participated in several Varsity sports, was a key member of a nationally acclaimed show choir, and had served the school well as student government vice president. The young man managed to secure recommendation letters from several teachers, former employers, a rising Broadway ingénue, a touring recording artist, and an actress featured in several nationally aired television commercials. And he’d cheekily included becoming “the face and abs” of Treasure Trailz under “experience” on his resume. He was admitted, and decided immediately to find a place of his own, a townhouse off-campus, which Blaine insisted on flying in to help Sam furnish and decorate.

Then he enrolled in a literature class he found intriguing, mostly because several of his favorite sci-fi novels featured heavily on the online syllabus. He signed up for courses in the art department, one of which offered intern credit for hours spent helping his old art teacher at McKinley, Mrs. Kale. Rounding out his schedule were several courses in the music department; voice and instrument instruction that Sam knew he’d enjoy and do well in. He made it through his first semester without a hitch, and was now happily two weeks into his second…Sam was proud of what he’d accomplished so far. As he dried himself post-shower, Sam offered silent thanks once again to Carole for her amazing advice.

As he donned boxer shorts to sleep in and crossed back into his bedroom, Sam smiled again. It had been a tough row to harrow, but the past eight months had borne some truly amazing fruit for the former slacker. The stimulation kept him happy most days, even if he still wallowed in misery most nights. Despite the fact that Sam inflicted brutal physical exhaustion on his lanky frame on a daily basis…when his head hit the pillow at night, his brain refused to tire. Under the cover of darkness, Sam’s regrets and painful memories took over all five of his senses. He mused and navel-gazed, tortured himself with fantasies…fantasies he’d begun to doubt would ever come true.

But the torture was satisfying in some ways as well; he probed his inner demons like an errant tongue in search of a sore tooth. And some nights Sam’s fatigued body won out over his restless mind; though few and far between, there had been times when Sam’s exhaustion allowed him to fall asleep almost immediately. He wished he’d have figured this out for himself a year ago when he first arrived in NYC. Sam could have saved himself a lot of misery…

As he flopped into bed, Sam’s mind inevitably began to wander back to those first few months in the most exciting city in the country. Most exciting…and to his mind, the most confusing.

Sam, Blaine, and Artie had arrived in the city full of childlike wonder, and excited to make their dreams come true. Sam looked forward to spending time with his bros, living without any parental interference, booking modeling jobs left and right before finding his own place, and making a success of his life alongside his best friends in the world. He figured he’d find a place for himself, find love, and find happiness… and he’d do it all without ever having to see another chalkboard in his life. The future had looked bright; and when Sam had boarded the plane, he did so brimming over with the possibilities.

The reality though, had been a tough pill to swallow. On first sight, Sam had hated New York City. They’d arrived mid-August, so that both Blaine and Artie could register for college classes. The city in the sweltering heat was far from ambient in Sam’s opinion, which should have been his first clue that city life was decidedly NOT for him.

While tucking himself in, Sam smirked and remembered the day he’d first discovered his disgust for NYC. He’d been with Blaine -a self-described foodie- on a walk along an overcrowded city sidewalk. His best friend had taken a deep breath, exclaiming enthusiastically over the scent of roasting lamb wafting from sidewalk gyro carts…and encouraged Sam to do the same. Sam’d done so, only to be accosted brutally by the smell of hot urine. Blaine had shrugged, and immediately wandered over to order himself a snack…while the memories had put Sam off pita bread for life.

Fluffing his pillow, Sam also reminisced fondly the day he’d realized the city hadn’t yet grown on him. Artie had invited Sam to narrate as he shot impromptu footage on a busy subway platform. Sam, no stranger to off-the-cuff monologues and excited to help his friend, had agreed. However, he’d found it difficult to describe his surroundings without making mention of “nasty assholes on the sidewalk who walk too fast,” “women in really high heels that throw used tissues and Monopoly money at homeless people,” and “guys on the train that act like they’re allergic to deodorant.” Sam laughed out loud at the memory of Artie accusing him of having “absolutely no chill” and opting to “narrate the damn thing” himself. In retrospect, the whole thing was funny; but at the time…

The cold truth was, that Sam had never liked the bustle or the hustle of NYC…he’d resented having to screech at cabbies in order to secure rides for he and his friends; although looking back he had to admit it had been hilarious watching Rachel do the same. New York was where Sam finally understood of all the dirty looks he and his Glee friends had received at McKinley…he’d happened upon the random people who sang and danced in Time’s Square several times in those first few weeks, and they never failed to freak him out. It hadn’t taken long for Sam to figure out that unlike Kurt, Rachel, Artie, and Blaine…he didn’t like this new place, and he hated what he was becoming there even more.

Instead of impressing bookers and securing lucrative modeling assignments, Sam was told time and time again that his look was less, “hot boy about town,” and more “divorced father of two.” They hated his hair, insulted his wardrobe, questioned his diet, and generally made him feel “less than.” When Sam wasn’t being informed that he lacked sex appeal, edginess, enthusiasm, aloofness or intrigue, the compliments were always mildly insulting…and in every instance, Sam was sent packing with less hope than he’d arrived with.

Instead of making money and finding a place of his own, Sam had to get by on an allowance from his parents while couch surfing in the Bushwick House of Horrors. Instead of having adventures with Blaine and meeting beautiful women in sophisticated places, an insomnia-ridden Sam played video games late at night, trying not to hear as Rachel did vocal warm-ups in her sleep or Klaine had really loud sex. He felt disjointed, like he hadn’t received his invite for this “magical” experience everyone else seemed to be enjoying. The only thing keeping him at all grounded was his playful relationship with Artie, but even that fell short of resembling a real life…no, Sam knew four weeks into his stay in Casa Gayberry that this was definitely not the place for him. Every day he debated packing his things and slipping away into the night.

Relief had come in the form of his ex-girlfriend, and he’d been grateful for her presence in a way that was pretty much second nature to him by that time. This was the same ex that had given him her heart when he had nothing to give her in return years ago, after all. The girl that beamed at him gratefully when he’d agreed to be her budget prom date, the girl who’d danced the robot alongside Sam while laughingly begging him never to change. This girl had held his hands and stroked his cheeks; happy to spend their “moonlit stroll” date nights comforting him after a long, hard day. She’d kissed him softly when tears threatened to streak down his cheeks and made him chuckle when life in the motel became hard to bear. This was the girl who’d told him with clumsy words and heartfelt gazes that he did all that for her, and more. It was no wonder to Sam that she’d also managed to make his life in New York more bearable.

As Sam’s roommate, Mercedes had kept him company; filling his days with laughter and his nights with affection. She’d listened as he complained about the city, never once attempting to change his mind. Whispered heartfelt declarations in their shared bed calmed his body and mind...allowing Sam much-needed nights of peaceful rest. With Mercedes there, the loneliness in Sam’s heart melted away, replaced by a newer, more mature love. She’d written a song about him and sang it for the whole world to hear…He’d allowed himself visions of a forever. Mercedes had become his lifeblood, all over again; and when she left New York, Sam knew it was time for him to leave as well.

So here he was, in Lima…working himself into a frazzle. Spending his nights terrified that they’d never get another chance.

Sam shifted position, yawning loudly, and drowsily admitted to himself that he wouldn’t trade his experiences in NYC for the world…he’d do it all over again if he had the chance, despite the new ache in his heart. Everything that had happened, good and bad, had afforded Sam some measure of clarity. The dog, the snotty sleeve, dinner with Mercedes’ backup singers, the red rubber band…had all taught Sam something about what was in his heart. And as much as he and Mercedes had learned about love together, those hot summer nights years and years ago, he knew now that they still had a lot to learn. As Sam finally drifted off into dreams of the woman he loved, he just hoped they'd learn them together as well.

The End.

A/N: I purposely had Sam neglect to seek out Will Schuester for life advice. No shade, but, Will sucks at that kinda thing.