Title: Do They Know It's Christmas?
Author:
![](../../img/userinfo.gif?v=88.2)
trinitys_sinRating: PG-13
Pairing: Blaine/Sam
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Sam and Blaine have a bad fight and Sam leaves. It's hours later and he still hasn't returned. (A kind of spin-off of For The Gift)
A/N: Written as the three part of five one-shots I did of various fandoms/pairings for my friend as a Christmas gift. Feel free to check out the other five at my journal. Also no beta'd so if there are any mistakes let me know!
Do They Know it’s Christmas?
“Sam!” Blaine calls out as he rushes down slush covered streets. The heavy fall of snow and the harsh wind sting at his eyes and face. His insides are twisted and aching with guilt and worry. His feet are numb from the cold and he’s lost all feeling in his hands. Yet he can’t go home. It’s Christmas Eve and his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.
They had fought earlier in the evening. It had mainly been his fault they were fighting. He knows he can get possessive when it comes to his current beau and this time he crossed the line. Sam had stormed out of the house; leaving Blaine to single handedly destroys just about everything in the town house his family had given to him when he said he wanted to stay close to New York City.
By the time he’d calmed down the sun was dipping below the surface and Sam had yet to return. Blaine had tried the blonde’s cell phone multiple times only to have it go to voice mail. In the end he’d gotten frustrated and thrown that against a wall. He’d taken to the streets, stopping quickly at Kurt and Finn’s place when he noticed the lights were on. Worry had really gripped at his heart when he learned his boyfriend wasn’t with them either.
“Sam!” he shouts. He’s racing through the downtown/shopping district of the town, his flashlight beam sweeping through the darkness. No one else is out because of the blizzard. He’s become distraught. Sam wouldn’t be out in this kind of weather. He stops, pulling out his cell phone. He checks to make sure he hasn’t missed any calls before dialing Sam’s cell.
It rings a few times and suddenly the faint sound of a tune floats to Blaine’s ear. A tune that sounds suspiciously like Sam’s ringtone. He pivots slowly so he’s facing the alley way, his flashlight racking over the mounds of snow. He can’t see anything because of the snow. A dreadful thought hits him, what if Sam is covered with snow? What is he even doing in an alley anyway? Perhaps he just dropped his phone?
Blaine hopes to god that’s all it is, as his trembling fingers punch in Sam’s number again. He listens closely, following the noise down the alley way until he’s standing over it. He points the beam of light straight down and what he sees makes him weak. He collapses to his knees, his hands reaching out to push and shove the snow away.
Snow that is the color of blood.
His throat closes up and hands are shaking uncontrollably by the time he uncovers a pale face. A sob escapes his throat, he’s found Sam. His Sammy, covered in snow and blood. His face so deathly pale, his lips blue. “No,” he whimpers, ripping the glove off his hands to trace along icy lips. He almost faints in relief when he feels the slight brush of warm air. He’s breathing!
He doesn’t bother putting the glove back on and starts shoving snow off of the man he loves until he’s mostly uncovered. He takes out his cell phone, calling 911. He quickly recites their location to the person on the other end and is relieved when they tell him “help is on the way”. He scoots closer so he can slip a hand under the man’s neck and knees. He’s suddenly grateful for his angry teenage years and the fact that he continued to work out. The taller man is not light.
“Come on, Sam,” He says, positioning them so that Sam in cradled in his lap. “You have to live.” His monetary braveness in failing him, his eyes sting with tears. He knows he shouldn’t let the out in this kind of weather but they roll down his cheeks regardless. I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry for everything,” he sobs.
“I know everyone thinks we’re never going to last and I thought that too just a couple of hours ago but I don’t want that anymore. Do you hear me, Sammy? I want to be with you for a very long time, perhaps the rest of my life,” he cries, burying his face in blonde locks.
“I want to hold you and talk to you. I want to see you smile and I want to hear you laugh, a real laugh, like you haven’t laughed in years,” he admits the last part sadly. “And I want to make it happen, but that can’t happen if you die, so please, please don’t die on me. Please!” And then he can’t take anymore because his sobs overcome him.
Shakily he brings his free hand up to Sam’s mouth again to comfort himself that the other man is still alive. Only he’s not breathing anymore. “Sam?” Blaine croaks. Then the weight is gone. The blonde head is gone from his view. He vaguely hears the sirens mixed with shouts from the paramedics. His distantly aware of them laying Sam’s prone body on a stretcher. He’s stuck on how lifeless Sam’s body felt in his arms.
When reality hits him again it is hours later and he’s in a hospital room, covered in the white sheet of a hospital bed. A doctor is standing over him, looking down at a clip board. “Where is he?” Blaine asks his voice cracking. The Doctor looks up at him then back down at the sheet.
“Well it looks like you’re alright now. You went into shock,” the doctor explains as if Blaine cares about his own well being.
“Where is he?” He repeats. The doctor frowns, his eyes leaving Blaine’s for a moment. His heart sinks into his chest. ‘Oh god, he’s dead.’ “Please, tell me he’s okay, please!” he begs. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with his life if Sam is gone from it.
“If you’re referring to Mr. Evans, he’s fine.”
“Can I see him?”
“I’m afraid not, he’s just got out of surgery for the knife wound in his side. It caused some internal bleeding and it was almost too late for us to do anything. He lost a lot of blood.” Like Blaine didn’t know that he could still see the bloodied snow staining his hands. “You can see him in a few days.”
Few Days Later
“Sam,” he whispers, slipping into the room. The other boy is asleep and he still looks like he could die at any minute. Blaine sits in the chair next to the bed, watching as the blonde’s chest moves up and down. “Sam, it’s New Years, and I made a resolution I wanted you to know about. I’m going to be better this year. I’m going to control my anger they way my therapist is showing me and I’m going to make you happy again. We’re going to be better,” he smiles, reaching out to take Sam’s hand.
“This year is going to be our year, Sammy, just you wait and see,” Blaine promises, lifting the hand up to press a kiss on the back. He can see Sam smiling, his blue eyes twinkling with anticipation.
‘I can’t wait.’
Part Four (Harry/Draco):
http://trinitys-sin.livejournal.com/8037.html#cutid1