Author's Note: This is an AU fic where Sebastian didn't transfer to Dalton until Season 4. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. Unfortunately .

"Families are the compass that guide us. They are the inspiration to reach great heights, and our comfort when we occasionally falter." ~Brad Henry

Sebastian was four when he first learned what being a Smythe meant.

His parents had done their best to shield him and his siblings from the relentless glare of media scrutiny. More than anything in this world, they wanted to give their children a shot at a normal life – or as "normal" a life that anyone with the last name of Smythe could lead.

Life, however, had other plans.

Time, place, and circumstance collided on a rainy Wednesday afternoon.

It happened faster than his young mind could process. The whirr of wheels, the crash of metal on metal that produced a sound that could only be likened to the death cry of some huge prehistoric mammoth, the shards of glass flying everywhere, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and then…blackout.

He didn't understand why his Aunt Livvy had tucked him into the bed that wasn't his. He wasn't tired; it wasn't late enough to be tired yet. He would have thrown a tantrum, but his Aunt Livvy had looked so tired and sad, staring down at her hands and not saying anything. She was usually strong and oh-so-sure of herself, but now she was the opposite of strong, and it was that which truly scared him.

So he stayed in bed, pretending to be asleep whenever somebody peeked into the room, but otherwise wide-awake and rearing to go.

He was bored. Bored, bored, b-o-r-e-d. There was nothing to do. No toys to play with. No books to read (not that he could read, even if he did have books). No TV to watch.

Sebastian hated the scarcity of options. Finally, after some time of boredom, he settled for looking around the room.

An assortment of drawings covered one of the walls – crayon drawings of animals, stick-figure families, houses, and superheroes. He recognized some of the names on the artwork. His big brother, Andrew. His baby sister, Emily. Some of his many cousins – Rhys, Hunter, Noelle, Jamie, Allison, Blake, Cameron, and Daveigh.

The room was painted dark purple, with glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and an intricately designed crystal ship chandelier that seemed to float in midair.

The room was okay, Sebastian supposed, but it wasn't his room.

Sebastian tried to remember why he was here, but thinking hurt. He tried again and again, but it seemed like with every new question he asked himself there was a new pain in his head ready to accompany it.

Sebastian sighed, confusion and frustration eating away at him.

When he heard the murmur of voices down the hall, his curiosity got the better of him. He crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the door, opening it a crack.

Peering out, he was shocked by what he saw. His dad looked…well, terrible. His brown hair was disheveled, his usual posh and expensive suit was replaced with a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, and his eyes looked haunted. Sebastian frowned; he had never seen his dad look so broken. He wanted to go and comfort him, but he couldn't.

Standing across from his dad were his Nana and Grandpa.

Sebastian's frown deepened when he heard his dad speak. There was an unfamiliar hardness in his voice, as though there wasn't a single drop of mercy in his tall, graceful frame.

"I don't want to hear what they have to say. Not now, not ever."

"I should have gone to get Drew." Tears streamed down Nana's face in rivulets, dripped off her chin, and plopped onto her pink sweater in big round drops. Seeing her cry made Sebastian want to do the same. "I should have told her in no uncertain terms to stay put – to stay right where she was."

"You didn't know what was going to happen. This isn't your fault, Georgia. This isn't any of our faults." Grandpa replied, nixing that idea quickly. "We should only blame the man responsible."

"I just can't stop wondering what would have happened if I'd gone to get Drew." Nana confessed.

"We can't go back." Grandpa said, not unkindly. "If we could turn back the hands of time and change what happened, we would. But that's not possible. We have to deal with the now and unfortunately the now is pretty ugly. Speaking of which, Chase, there's something you need to know."

"What?"

"The story has hit the airwaves. It's made it to all three mainstream networks, as well as cable, in time for the five o'clock news. There's been speculation and innuendo regarding the state of your marriage – speculation about other women. Particularly Lexi Lawrence."

"I never cheated on Madeline. I'm smarter than that and you guys raised me better than that." There was a catch in his voice. He was hurt.

"I know that, son, but the reporters are looking for a juicy story."

"Your father's right, Chase." Nana said, agreeing with her husband. "The press are vultures who prey on the victims of crimes and disasters for their own selfish gain. They're already biting at the chomp to find out whether you're going to resign the Senate seat."

"Fuck the press."

Sebastian hands flew to his mouth, trying to stifle the gasp that was close to escaping his lips. He had never heard his dad say the "F" word before. His mom cursed, but never at anyone. It was more of the occasional slip – she'd drop something or forget something important and say the "S" word, but that was about the extent of it.

"We have to take as much control of the press as we can. For Drew and Seb's sake. If we don't, it'll only get worse." Nana explained.

"They're dead," his dad said flatly. "Madeline's dead. Em's dead. How much worse can it get?"

Sebastian felt something squeezing his heart at those words. He knew what dead meant. Their dog, Duke, had died last summer. They'd dug a hole in the backyard, wrapped him up in a sheet or something, and said a few words to God. His dad had put Duke in the hole and filled it up.

Dead meant you never woke up again. Dead meant people stood over your body and cried, even grown men sometimes. Dead meant that you had gone to Heaven to live with God. Dead meant gone forever, and forever was a long time.

His breath got lodged in his throat, unable to escape. He wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but he also wanted to run. Flashes of blinding light and broken glass, of blood and wrecked cars raced through his head.

The breath that had been stuck in his throat and the emotions that had been damming up burst forth in a wrenching sob. He started to run. And he started to scream at the top of his lungs.

"Mommy's not dead. Emmy's not dead. They're not dead. They're not dead."

He kept running, away from the shouts of his name, down the steps that led to the large double doors. He could hear the sound of footsteps thundering after him, but he didn't care. He couldn't stand to listen to them talking about his mom and his baby sister like that. They couldn't be dead. They couldn't be. It had to be some kind of huge mistake.

At the front door, he grabbed hold of the knob and pushed the door open. It swung open and he raced out without looking back. There were crowds of people, so many that they seemed pressed against each other. He froze, not knowing where to turn, what to do. All around him, lights started flashing. People with microphones and cameras hovered around him like sharks ready to launch into a feeding frenzy, yelling questions and blocking his way. It was all too much for him. He just stood there and sobbed, crying for his mom to come back.

A dozen cameras zoomed in on the grief-stricken child, eating the moment up like candy.

Look this way, Sebastian! Over here.

Did you see the car coming?

Was your father going to leave your mother for LexLaw?

What were your mother's last words to you?

Is your father going to resign the seat he just won?

Look at me, Sebastian. Look at the camera.

Suddenly, he was being scooped up into Uncle Josh's strong arms. He buried his face into his uncle's neck, holding onto him like a lifeline.

"I want my mommy. Bring her back, Uncle Josh. Bring her back." He could only whisper it while Uncle Josh held him tight.

"He's just a child." Josh shouted, unable to keep up his cool façade any longer. "Jesus H. Christ, can't we have privacy for once in our lives? Hasn't our family given this country enough? Let us mourn in peace for fuck's sake."

Josh turned back toward the house and shook his head fiercely before his siblings and his parents could step out. "No, stay inside. Tomorrow we'll go out there and give them what they want. Tomorrow we'll be the Smythe's that everyone loves so goddamn much…strong and brave to the grave. But today, they get nothing more from us."

"I'll take him upstairs." Grandpa said, holding out his arms.

As he was being passed from his Uncle Josh to his Grandpa, Sebastian caught a glimpse of his dad's face. His face was carefully calm and it betrayed nothing. "Mom, Dad, you were right. I have to get this under control before it turns into a media circus."

Despite Josh's plea for privacy, the press ran with the photos.

Sebastian's tear-streaked face was on the cover of nearly every newspaper and magazine in the country. The image of the young boy – who had the most mesmerizing green eyes and hair that was caught between brown and gold – tugged at the people's heartstrings.

The headlines reflected the adoration, imagination, and sympathy of the public.

THE LITTLE PRINCE WEEPS

AMERICA'S ROYAL FAMILY ROCKED BY TRAGEDY

THE SMYTHE CURSE STRIKES AGAIN

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER KILLED IN DEADLY CAR CRASH

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE: THE SOLE SURVIVOR

Author's Note: I would just like to say thank you for reading this. I've wanted to write a Seblaine fic for a while now, so I figured I'd finally give it a shot. Please let me know what you think in a review.

And just in case you didn't pick up on it, Hunter is Sebastian's cousin.

I hope you guys enjoyed the prologue and I look forward to reading your thoughts! Stay tuned for more!