(no subject)
When Love and Death Embrace
Author: Assilem82; Demented Symphony on ff.net
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did, Kum would be bursting out of the television and there would be lots of scissoring and a few good sweet lady kisses thrown in for good measure.
Summary: Sam deals with a devastating loss.
Soft, oh so soft. The lips felt like fluttering wings against his eyelids. He felt the smile tugging on his lips. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around the figure on top of him. Enveloped in the boys warmth, he opened his eyes only to be greeted by crystal blue ones. His smile grew impossibly wider as the figure above him bent his head, placing a chaste kiss upon his lips. From there the kiss grew. He heard a whimper as his lips traveled down the porcelain skin. Pride swelled in his chest at the high-pitched moan that came from nipping gently at the nape of his loves neck.
Long slim fingers tangled themselves in a mess of blond hair as rough calloused ones traveled down the others back, pulling him impossibly closer. Each could feel the others obvious arousal. Sweet moans mixed with declarations of love as he flipped the other onto his back. His breath caught as he studied his loves face. He swore that there was nothing in the living world so perfect. It was then that the image twisted, and before he could shout the words, his love dissolved into a pile of dust.
Sam awoke not even attempting to hold back the tears that had already been making their way down his face. He pulled his knees to his chest and let out a heartbreaking wail. Sobs violently racked his chest as he clenched his hands. He felt his nails dig into his skin. He clenched harder, hoping that the pain would somehow overpower the aching feeling in his chest. To his disdain, it did not. The beeping of the alarm clock distracted him momentarily from his misery. He slammed his fist down, shutting it off and somehow willed himself from his bed. He made his way into the bathroom and stared at his reflection. Tears fell from his swollen eyes. He took a ragged breath putting the daily mask in place.
School was somewhat easy to deal with. He knew his part and he played it well. He was star quarterback, boyfriend to the hottest girl in school. The very act he used to be ashamed of became his life raft. He noticed how the students were less somber. They had already gotten used to the loss and moved on with their lives. Hardly anyone whispered about it. He paused momentarily at the makeshift memorial. To his shock, it remained intact and instead of obscenities was words meant to give comfort. He felt his mask slip for the tiniest second before he caught himself. Not here Sam. Not now. Later.
Glee club was the only place in the school that still felt the immense loss of Kurt Hummel. It was not uncommon to hear the occasional sniffle. Songs were sang, prayers were spoken. Going to Glee was like attending the departed boys’ funeral on a daily basis. He stayed extra vigilant during these times. He made the dark joke that maybe he should win an Oscar for his performance. As if on cue, he sat down next to Quinn. Who would then place her tiny hand in his and place her head on his shoulder. He would then soothe her and be neutral. After all, he did not know Kurt like the rest of them did. He had an excuse.
He was not prepared for what he found today though. Instead of crying, there was laughter. Instead of Quinn, taking his hand the moment he sat down, she stayed in the corner dancing with Brittany. Instead of Rachel singing a mournful ballad, she sang an upbeat show tune. Puck and Finn were jamming out while Artie and Santana fought over who would spend time with Brittany that weekend. Even Mr. Shue seemed brighter. The only ones who showed any evidence of sadness were Mercedes and Tina however, no tears escaped their eyes. Like the rest of the school, Glee club was moving on with their lives. Kurt becoming not forgotten but at the same time let go.
Football, homework, dates with Quinn, Glee club, family. All of it meant nothing to him. He thought of the list of things he could trade the devil if he did in fact exist, for just one more moment of sleep. He grabbed the bottle from the cabinet and popped the lid off. He put the little pills in his mouth and gulped down the water. He watched as the tears made their way down his cheeks, the mask long removed hours ago. He laid down on his bed and removed the only picture he had of Kurt from his bedside drawer. It was hidden funny enough in a porn magazine. The only place his snooping mother would not dare to look through if she happened to find it.
He tossed the magazine across the room and touched the picture, knowing that in mere minutes he would be able to feel that soft skin beneath his fingertips once more. His parents did not question him when he asked them to get the doctor to give him something to help him sleep. They had heard of his classmates’ death and thought it a temporary solution. They did not question what his relationship was to the boy. They only knew that they were in Glee together and that the late boy was a close friend to their sons’ girlfriend.
He kissed the picture, willing himself to sleep knowing what awaited him once he got there. It was after the funeral that Sam had his first dream. It was not what anyone would consider special. The dream merely consisted of Kurt comforting Sam. He held the boy allowing him to cry. He listened silently as Sam told him his regrets, his guilt. It should have been Sam that night. The dream ended with Kurt kissing him and telling him he would see him the next night. That was three weeks ago.
He felt his eyes getting heavy and let the drugs lead him to his own personal heaven. Kurt. The boy turned at the sound of his name and smiled.
Sam. He held his hand out and pulled Sam to him. He traced Kurt’s cheek with his thumb, relishing in the feel of his soft skin. They held each other in silence, words were deemed useless. Sam placed sweet kisses down his loves neck, up to his dainty ear. I miss you Kurt. So much. The counter tenor sighs. It’s music to his ears. Kurt takes Sam’s face in his hands and places a kiss on his forehead. Scene changes. He grabs his hand and leads him to a field. They sit beneath a tree, Sam’s head resting in Kurt’s lap. His fingers are weaving themselves through the blonds’ hair. Sam is content. Sing to me. Kurt smiles and takes a deep breath, he begins his voice soft.
Over mountains, over trees
Over oceans over seas
Across the deserts, I’ll be there.
In a whisper on the wind
Or the smile of a new friend
Just think of me, and I’ll be there.
Don’t be afraid. Oh my love
I’ll be watching you from above.
And I’d give all the world tonight, to be with you
Because I’m on your side, and I still care
I may have died, but I’ve gone nowhere
Just think of me, and I’ll be there.
Tears were flowing freely down Kurt’s face, mixing with Sam’s.
On the edge of a waking dream
Over rivers, over streams
Through wind and rain
I’ll be there
Across the wide and open sky
Thousands of miles I’d fly
To be with you, I’d be there
Don’t be afraid, oh my love
I’ll be watching you from above
Then I give all the world tonight to be with you
Because I’m on your side, and I still care
I may have died, but I’ve gone nowhere
Just think of me and I’ll be there
In the breath of a wind that sighs
Oh there’s no need to cry. Just think of me
I’ll be there
Don’t be afraid, oh my love
I’ll be watching you from above
And I’d give all the world tonight, to be with you
Because I’m on your side, and I still care
I may have died but I’ve gone nowhere
Just think of me, and I’ll be there
He place gentle kisses into Sam’s hair, whispering the last remnants of the song.
Just think of me, and I’ll be there.
Just think of me, and I’ll be there.
The alarm blared, dragging Sam unwillingly away. He broke down, this was the price he paid everyday. No piece of heaven came without a price. His days went on. The memory of that night played in his head with ever kiss he shared with Quinn. In ever high five he shared with Finn. Every time he meets Mercedes eyes.
It was perfectly planned out. Sam’s parents were gone for the weekend. He had the house to himself. Kurt had talked to Mercedes, asking her to cover for him and say that he was spending the weekend with her if anyone asked. He could still see Kurt in his kitchen chopping vegetables for their dinner. He could still smell his cologne on the shirt that he wore because he ‘forgot’ his pajamas. He could still remember the look in his eyes when they talked about how to handle when Sam finally came out. He remembers the phone call that was the beginning of the end.
Kurt was reading one of Sam’s many comics aloud when his phone rang. Not recognizing the number, he answered it, worried that it may be his father. It was Finn. Apparently, he had a fight with Rachel and decided to drown his sorrows with Puck at a party his teammates were throwing. Kurt slammed the phone down and went to his bag to grab his keys.
“I SWEAR TO GAGA, HE IS SUCH A COCKBLOCK!” Sam laughed as he grabbed his boyfriend from behind, holding him close.
“I can go and get him you know. You can stay here,” his lips traced the smaller boys’ collarbone. “And hopefully by the time I get back, you will be wearing fewer clothes.” Kurt turned around rolling his eyes. He slapped Sam’s shoulder playfully.
“Must I be the brains AND the looks in this relationship. You are supposed to be out of town, remember. Plus, Finn called me not you. He’s at Colfer Field. It shouldn’t take me long.” He placed a quick kiss on his boyfriends lips.
“I love you.” Sam said, humor replaced with adoration. Kurt let out a content sigh whispering an ’I love you’ back and was out the door. An hour passed. Then two. For some unknown reason, he felt as if his heart was breaking. The feeling scared him and he started to worry. He called Kurt’s phone, only to get his voicemail. Finally, after three hours passed he took the chance at calling Mercedes. She had not heard from him and asked Sam why all of a sudden he wanted to know. He muttered a quick excuse and hung up. The dreaded feeling that something was wrong plagued him. He slipped his sweater on and grabbed his keys.
Colfer field was a good twenty minutes away from his house. It was then that he saw Kurt’s baby. He barely recognized it at first until he saw the Gay Pride static cling in the back window. It was hooked up to a tow truck and it was totaled. Highway Patrol and the local Sheriffs department were working on getting the debris out of the road. He did not even remember getting out of the car. As he approached Kurt’s car, he saw the drivers’ side door was completely caved in. The windows were smashed and there was blood….so much blood. He grabbed his head, a piercing scream escaping his lips. He fell to his knees, finally accepting what he had known all along. The deputy did not have to tell him, he already knew. Kurt never made it to Colfer field and he never will.
He often played the what if game. What if he made Kurt stay and have Finn find his own way home? What if Kurt never got the call? What if Sam would have just come out and admitted proudly that he was in love and with Kurt Hummel and the world could just suck it. Nobody questioned him being there that night. Nobody wondered why he was so concerned about Kurt Hummel’s whereabouts. Nobody except Mercedes. He kept waiting for her to pounce on him and demand answers. However, she never did. Instead of the anger and confusion he expected to see whenever he caught her staring, he saw sympathy. He had a feeling that she had already figured it out and was simply waiting for him to crack. What she did not know was that he never would. The show must go on.
He awoke screaming. His mother rushed to his room and took her boy in her arms. She rocked him as she tried to comfort him. His wails were breaking her heart. She had known for a while that he had been having trouble sleeping. She waited patiently for him to come to her. He never did. She could not wait for the nightmare to stop so that she could have her son back.
Little did she know that it was no nightmare, but the best dream he had of Kurt since losing him. Tonight, they made love. He knew it was a dream. He knew it wasn’t real. He knew that it would never be real again. The realist in him, what he liked to call his ‘inner Kurt’ knew what the dreams were. They were a coping mechanism created by his subconscious. He knew they weren’t real. They weren’t real. They weren’t real. He grabbed the bottle from the cabinet and opened it. He emptied the bottle in his hand and swallowed them down. He knew they weren’t real, but they soon would be. He scrawled a quick note and grabbed Kurts picture holding it close to his heart. He laid down in his bed, feeling the familiar fuzziness that lulled him to sleep on a nightly basis.
He felt light and warm. He looked down at himself and saw that he was smiling, holding on to the picture for dear life. He felt a hand gently take his and he turned around to find his love.
“Kurt. Am I dreaming?” Kurt smiled and began pulling him towards a bright glowing light.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Sam laughed grabbing him from behind pulling him in for a kiss, disappearing in a flash of light.
The alarm blared as Mrs. Evans entered her sons room. She turned it off, seeing him so peaceful she really didn’t want to wake him. He must be having a good dream because instead of the tears he usually had before waking he was smiling. She smoothed his hair out of his face and fear took hold of her heart. He felt cold, oh so cold. She screamed for her husband to call 911 as she frantically searched for a pulse. She knew it was useless, he was gone. Sobs racked her body and she collapsed on the bed beside her son. She pulled the picture from his grasp and began to cry harder. It was a picture of her son and boy who had recently died, holding each other.
The deputy found the note among the magazines and comics.
How terrible it is to love something death can touch.