A/N: This is a AU for episode 'Shooting Star'.
"You're going to get them killed."
"Do you want them to die?"
Sam jolted awake, breathe came in harsh gasps. He scooted up till his back connected with the headboard of his bed. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and rested his chin on his knees. Tears ran silently down his face. He hated the damn nightmares. He just didn't understand why he can't get over it. The School shooting happened weeks ago.
Everybody acted like nothing happened, like they hadn't spent hours hiding in the locked down school. It pissed him off. He just didn't understand how they could get over it so fast but he couldn't. Sam took a deep, calming breath, then again and again. Finally he calmed down a bit. He wondered what time it was. He looked over to his alarm clock but it wasn't there. There on the floor was the alarm clock. He must have knocked it down during his nightmare. Great. He sighed. The red light of the clock read 2:30am. He knew he wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night. He sighed again and reached for the remote control, turned on the TV found a late night comedy. Slowly he fell asleep to the sounds of a old rerun of Saturday Night Live.
He woke the next morning tired and cranky. He groaned, rubbed his hands along his face. He so didn't want to get out of bed, but he already missed to much school. He sighed he also had glee but he just couldn't make himself step through the door and into the room. Every time he tried he would get this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sam got up, after showering he went down to breakfast. He was grateful to the Hudmel's. Grateful that they took him in. But sometimes it made him uncomfortable at how intuitive Burt Hummel was. He'd been avoiding the man the past few weeks.
"Good morning Sam"
Sam froze in the kitchen doorway.
"Sir, What are you doing up this early?" Sam asked. He moved when Burt gestured toward a chair. He could feel his heart begin to race.
"Sam, you've been avoiding me. I'm wondering why?' Burt replied. He waited patiently for Sam to speak. But when he didn't he spoke.
"What you are feeling is completely natural."
Sam snorted. He looked away at Burt's raised eyebrow. It reminded him of Kurt. He didn't know if Kurt got it from Burt or the other way, but it spoke volumes for both Hummels. Sam frowned at the thought of Kurt. He hadn't called when the shooting happened or at least not that he knew of.
"Excuse me sir, but how do you know what I feel?"
He felt small at Burt's tone of voice. He knew that he was treading water here but he just couldn't stop this rage that was quickly overwhelming him. Rage at Kurt, at everyone really but especially at Mr. Schuster.
"It's okay to feel scared Sam" Burt said. Sam looked at him incredulously. Scared?
"I'm not scared, I'm angry." Sam spat out. He realized after a moment that Burt knew that. He quickly grew angry at the man seated across from him. He knocked the chair over in his haste to get up.
Burt watched the young man pace in front of him. He had an inkling that there was more going on in the kids head. He figured the boy never really had the chance to express his feelings about the shooting and everything else that happened in his life. He's had to be the strong one for so long. Taking care of his younger siblings. Bringing home the money for them to survive on. Taking handouts from his friends. Add the emotional stress of the shooting to that. It's no wonder this boy hasn't blown a fuse before this. He had the feeling he was about to witness a epic eruption. He didn't know if he was capable of handling it, but he was going to try.
Sam increased his pacing as he warred with himself. Did he have the right to feel this way? So much anger? Mr. Schuster should have never said that to him, should have never restrained him and forcing him to the ground. He didn't know how to express this anger but then he didn't care anymore. He needed it gone.
Burt jumped when he let out a yell, grabbed the chair and slammed it against the floor over and over till it was only a pile of kindling and fabric. It wasn't enough; he needed to destroy more, to get rid of more. He screamed with rage, reached for a plate of pancakes from the kitchen table, threw it down to the floor where it shattered into pieces. Then he reached for more not realizing Burt was placing plates within his reach. Burt knew the boy would feel guilty about the mess and would offer to replace it.
He turned to look behind him to find Carol standing in the doorway. He shook his head and shushed her. She nodded, stepped back but did not leave. They listened to the heartbreaking sobs that came from the young boy in their charge. Sam fell to his knees amongst the broken pieces of glass and ceramic when there was nothing left to shatter. If he'd been more aware he would have seen the horrified expressions on the Hudmel's faces. He hadn't just been screaming, there were broken sentences and words among those screams at the very end. Carol made a clean spot on the floor with her foot, sat down and embraced him. She made soothing sounds and ran her hand up and down his back. She shared a look with her husband.
Burt knew that damn glee teacher was an idiot, but to put that kind of responsibility on a teenager? That was just so wrong. Schuster forced him to choose the club over the girl he loved, that isn't something a mere child should have to do. Restraining him? Nope there is no way he was going let that man get away with it. He will go down to that school and have a talk with Schuster. He looked at Sam, huddled in his wife's arms, eyes swollen, nose stuffed, at his bruised and bleeding hands. He mentally nods, yes he will go down and give Schuster a piece of his mind. After they get the kid some professional help, he amended.
After a while they were able to return Sam to the guest bedroom for some much needed sleep. School could wait. Burt knew he had to call the absence in but he didn't care. This boy needed to sleep and recover. The Hudmel's stood in the doorway, wrapped around one another, looked at the young man lying in the bed.
"He'll be okay" Carol whispered. Burt nodded.
"You bet he will"