Title: Never Know What Hit You ~ Continued

Paring: Blaine/Sam, mentions Santana/Brittany, Kurt/Adam and past Blaine/Kurt

Rating: R

Warnings/Tags: TW: School shooting violence

Summary: Prompt: Based on the 4x18 rumors ~ There's a shooting at McKinley. I don't want anyone to die, but maybe someone could get hurt (Blaine or Sam) and the other is just beside themselves.

Notes: Sorry for any typos. My transcription software doesn't always understand what I say and I don't always catch the mistakes. I have trouble typing things by hand since I suffered an injury last year to my right hand and it seizes up if I try to do too much.

"Stacy! Come here!"

Mary Evans's urgent whisper drew Blaine out of a deep sleep, enough so that he was aware of someone grabbing at his t-shirt.

"Sleeping, Momma!"

"Uh, morning," Blaine mumbled sleepily and Stacy clambered around from behind him.

She smiled. "You're awake!"

"Sorry," Mary apologized. "The twins wandered out of the guest room. Stevie's in with Kurt and Adam."

"We like to sleep with Sammy when he's home," Stacy informed him somberly. "I wanted to make sure you weren't crying again."

Clearly, the nurturer/caregiver gene ran strong in the Evans family.

"It's early," Mary said. "Stacy, let Blaine go back to sleep."

Glancing at the clock, Blaine saw that it was 7:16am and he shook his head. "No, I should get up."

"All right, sweetie," she replied, then waved at Stacy. "Up. Let's get you some breakfast."

The offer of food had Stacy flying out of bed, a flurry of blonde hair and an old, faded Nashville Pee Wee Football t-shirt.

After they left, Blaine got up, wincing as he touched his head. Sleeping in full gel always made his scalp ache…Oh, screw it.

Sam had said he thought Blaine's hair looked cool during the Diva number. He liked the curls…Blaine could totally go a day with only anti frizz cream and curl refining serum.

After a long shower, he dressed and wandered down the stairs to find a very crowded kitchen. Mary and Adam were doing things at stove, while Kurt was cutting up orange slices for the twins. Cooper was talking with Burt and Carole, while Finn, Rachel and Mercedes were trying to be subtle about checking their phones.

Rachel was the first to notice him, bouncing out of her seat and flinging her arms around him. "I didn't get to give you a hug last night," she breathed, squeezing him with deceptive strength. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Good to see you too, Rachel," Blaine replied and she pushed him into his seat…where he immediately found himself with a lap full of Stacy and a heaping plate of food in front of him.

While he was used to the barely contained chaos that was the glee club, there were rarely loud mornings in his house. Picking at the food, he let the voices wash over him, aware of concerned, parental gazes from Mary, Burt and Carole and Cooper's carefully disguised worry.

"So, I talked to mom and dad," Cooper told him during a din in the conversation. "Mom and Auntie Lucia are concerned and dad said to let him know if you want to go back to Dalton for the last few months school…."

"No!" Blaine practically yelped, then reined himself in. "No, I'm not running away from this."

Everyone thankfully had the tact not to mention his little outburst. Even the children.

After breakfast, some of the mob drifted off, to work, to check in with other friends etc. Finn, Rachel and Mercedes assured Blaine that they'd be by the hospital later, as did Burt and Carole, and Blaine couldn't help but sigh in relief when they left.

The house was still more fully unusual, but it was quieter.

Adam got Stevie and Stacy settled in the living room with an offer to read them Harry Potter and Cooper disappeared to call his agent.

Having eaten enough to satisfy Mary, Blaine rose and crossed the kitchen. "Visiting hours start at nine," he said, stepping into the large supply pantry were all the miscellaneous kitchen/food related things were kept. In the full, but organized, room, he easily located what he was looking for, a small cooler that could be plugged into a wall to function as a tiny fridge. Toting it back into the kitchen, he placed it on the counter. "I figure we can bring Sam some food that he might actually eat."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "The food at Lima Memorial always looked awful…and kind of smelled like cat food."

"You weren't the one who had to eat it," Blaine pointed out with the shudder, gathering various berries and melons to make a fruit salad. "Even the Jell-O tasted terrible."

Between them, Blaine, Kurt and Mary put together a fruit salad, a regular salad (with chopped grilled chicken), some sliced turkey breast, a big bowl of strawberries (Sam's favorite), a couple of chocolate pudding cups, some yogurt, granola and a few bottles of organic fruit juice.

Though they were enthralled listening to Adam's reading of Harry Potter, the promise of seeing Sam sent Stevie and Stacy scrambling off to change out of their pajamas.

When they arrived at the hospital, Blaine wasn't surprised to see a pair of news vans still sitting vigil outside. Fortunately, they were hovering on the edge of the property and not accosting anyone as they tried to enter the hospital.

At least not at the moment. A grim looking security officer was standing by the door, eyeing the vans distastefully. "You folks will have to sign in at the front desk today," he told him with a small smile at Stevie and Stacy. "We've had a few reporters trying to sneak on-site."

As they walked through the halls, Blaine saw lots of familiar faces, other students visiting injured friends. Nods were exchanged and there were still tears in many haunted eyes.

A burly hockey player grabbed Blaine's arm as he passed. "Hey," the boy said, voice a lot less belligerent than Blaine was used to hearing from him. "Tami, my girl, she was in the library. She got shot, but she survived. Tell Evans thanks, okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Of course. I'm glad Tami's going to be all right."

The boy thumped Blaine companionably on the shoulder and gave a quick nod before stepping back into a room.

"That guy used to throw me in dumpsters," Kurt said quietly, causing Adam and Mary to look at him sharply. "He stopped after Karofsky's…after what happened last year, but still…."

"Tragedy can put things in perspective," Blaine murmured as they continued toward Sam's room.

Always an early riser, being confined to a hospital bed did nothing to change Sam's habits. He woke, shoulder throbbing dully in time with his heartbeat, disoriented until he remembered the events of the previous day.

It hadn't been a nightmare after all.

Beside his bed, his father slept in a reclining chair (provided by Olivia, a sweet young nurse who had smiled and rolled her eyes when they attempted to charm her into providing said chair), clearly exhausted.

"About time you woke up."

A voice startled Sam and he turned his head, looking to where Sue Sylvester was leaning against a wall, directly under a clock. The woman looked more weary than Sam had ever seen her and he said, "Uh… It's 6 AM."

"I trained myself to survive on 27 minutes of sleep a night," she informed him. "Too much to do. While the rest of you waste your lives dreaming, I'm being productive."

"Okay," Sam replied, not sure what she was getting her why she was standing there staring at him.

"Two of my girls died in the library," Sue said suddenly and Sam felt like she had punched him in the gut. "But for other Cheerios survived what happen in there. Quite probably because of your actions. Good work."

Sam blinked at her and pursed his lips. "Not good enough," he murmured, picking at the sheet with his good hand. "People still died."

"Yes, they did," she agreed. "But you weren't the one who decided to start shooting up the school. You were however the one to take action and step up to prevent more deaths. That sort of strength deserves to be acknowledged… Though I'll deny it if you ever mention this conversation to anyone."

With that, she stalked out of the room and Sam blinked, looking up at the bags of medication running into his IVs and wondering if something was making him hallucinate.

"That was surreal."

Turning, Sam looked over at the other occupant of the room. Around 9 PM, harried looking nurse had asked if Sam would mind sharing his room with the girl. Apparently, once the sedation wore off, Kitty had been hassling the staff, specifically complaining about the fact that her roommate reeked of death, cat pee and deep fryer grease.

The staff had almost wept with relief when she settled down, not finding Sam to objectionable.

"I was wondering if she was actually here or if it was the drugs playing tricks on me," Sam admitted, eyes roaming over her tired features. "How are you doing today?"

She sighed. "My leg hurts like a pissed off Jaguar is gnawing on it. You?"

"That sounds about right," he agreed, then lowered his voice when his father grumbled and shifted in his sleep. "Any idea how long they're going to keep us here?"

"Couple of days for me," she sighed, scowling down her leg, which was raised up on support of padding. "That's going to scar, I just know it."

Yesterday had probably made a lot of scars. "Probably," he said honestly, then glanced down at his own heavily bandaged torso. "But I think we've all got scars from what happened. Ours will just be visible."

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded tersely. "Maybe you should try to sleep some more."

"You too," he said as a nurse poked her head in and gave them a concerned look.

"It's early," she said, stepping into the room. "How's your pain? Would either of you like something for it?"

"Yes," Kady replied immediately and Sam nodded, figuring it would help them sleep.

The nurse efficiently injected medicine into their IVs and Sam smiled a little when he saw the tiny, stuffed koala clipped to her stethoscope. It was a little embarrassing to be on the pediatric floor, but, as he was still under 18, he wasn't given any other option. He wouldn't admit it aloud to anyone, but he found the colorful scrubs (and little things like the koala clip) comforting.

As hoped, the medicine let Sam drift off into a carefree sleep and he woke hours later, blinking blearily at the sound of voices.

"Sammy!"

Even half awake, Sam smiled at the sound of Stacy's voice and opened his eyes in time to hear his father say, "No jumping on your brother!"

Stacy had made a dive for Sam, but Dad had caught her by the belt and was holding her suspended in the air as she giggled. Her yelp had caused the crowd in the room to press forward, surrounding Sam's bed, voices raised happily.

His Mom hugged him close, kissing his brow and stroking his hair as she asked, "How are you feeling today, Sammy?"

"Good," he murmured, still numb and fuzzy from whatever had been in the shot. "Doesn't hurt."

"Because you're getting the really good drugs," Kitty commented from her bed. "It's about time you woke up to face the invading horde."

Horde?

Blinking, Sam looked from his mother, to his father, Stacy, Stevie (who appeared to be wearing one of Blaine's bowties), Blaine, Kurt, a tall stranger, Rachel, Finn, Sugar, an older man Sam thought was Sugar's father, Marley, Mrs. Rose, Puck, Jake and Kitty's parents.

When his mom stepped back, he was besieged by a flurry of hugs, a pat on the cheek from Mrs. Rose (who called him Sweetface), handshake from the stranger (Adam, who introduced himself) and Mr. Motta, who was one scary dude.

Seriously, the man had gripped Sam's hand and said, "My baby girl tells me you saved her life at great risk to your own. Should you ever find yourself in need of something, do not hesitate to ask. Anything you need. I mean that."

Like something out of the Godfather… And then he disappeared without further comment.

Kitty's parents clearly had no idea what to make of them.

After the initial rush of hugs, Mom sent Dad to go get a shower and some rest in an actual bed while everyone else found seats or positions to hover in.

Marley, Jake and Sugar set on Kitty's bed with her and Puck sat on the bedside table. Mrs. Rose took a chair by Kitty's parents, while Mom claimed the chair Dad had abandoned. Stacy and Stevie sat at Sam's feet, while Blaine perched by his hip. Kurt and Finn claimed the final visitor chairs, Rachel on Finn's knee and Adam sat on the deep window frame.

"Pretty sure you guys could find something more interesting to do than sit around a hospital," Sam said, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

Finn snorted. "Dude, you got shot!"

Sam blinked at him. "I know. That's why I have to be here. You guys…Hey! Why are you to New York?" He asked Rachel and Kurt.

"We were worried," Kurt said with a soft smile and Rachel nodded.

"Plus, Santana probably would have caused an in-flight incident if we let her fly out here alone. As it was, we sat on her for most of the trip," she said lightly. "Frankly, I'm surprised none of us were stabbed at any point."

"She did bite me," Adam offered, causing Kurt to look at him, clearly startled. "But it didn't even break the skin. Don't fret. She was simply scared for Brittany."

That made Sam blinked and grab at Blaine's arm. "Is Britt okay?"

"She's fine," Blaine assured him, wrapping his hand around Sam's and squeezing gently. "Scared and shaken up like everyone, but she wasn't hurt. In fact, Artie said she reacted really fast and pulled him down out of the line of fire when the shooting started."

Keeping a hold of Blaine's hand, Sam nodded. He'd been told he and Kitty had been the only two (out of their close circle of friends at least) who had been shot and Joe had needed stitches, but still…. Until he saw everyone, he'd probably be a little worried for them.

Over the next few hours, people came and went. Kitty's parents were the first to flea, overwhelmed by the general air of craziness that seemed to develop when more than a few members of the glee club congregated.

When Mercedes, Tina and Mike arrived, Mrs. Rose and Sam's mother took Stevie and Stacy down to the cafeteria for frozen yogurt.

Occasionally, a nurse would poke her head in and frown at the crowd, but shockingly, no one said anything.

"You're a hero," Artie said when he showed up with Brittany and Santana. "No one wants to shoo your friends away."

"But I'm not," Sam murmured quietly. "I just…reacted and…and I killed someone! Heroes don't kill people!"

He could see surprise on a few faces. Obviously, some of the details of what had gone down were widely known.

"So you're a noir hero," Sugar said with a shrug. "But I still think you're just a regular hero. How many other people would he have killed if you hadn't done something, Sam? He would have definitely killed you. Probably me, Blaine and Tina too. Five kids died in there with us and seven others, including you, got shot! Yes, you picked up the gun and shot one of the shooters, but you did it to protect everyone else."

Sam knew what she said was true. Heck, the reason his dad had taken him to a shooting range and taught him how to handle a handgun was for safety and protection. Still, shooting a person, even a person bent on harming others, was still far different than putting bullets through paper silhouette.

"So… You guys all saw what happened?" Rachel asked quietly, her face somber. "I can't even imagine."

Shifting slightly, Sam frowned. He really didn't want to talk about what had happened again. Last night, the police have spoken with him and he'd had to recount everything. He fell silent, letting the others talk and playing with Blaine's fingers….

Despite the noise, he nodded off and, when he woke, the room is cleared significantly. Kitty was drowsing in her bed, while Mom and Blaine were conversing quietly by the window.

"Hey," he murmured and they both looked at him quickly.

"Hi, hon," Mom said, smoothing his hair back.

Blaine pushed the rolling table toward Sam's bed. "Are you hungry? You slept through lunch. We brought you some food from home."

"I could eat," Sam said as his stomach growled, letting him know that yes, food was a good idea.

Smiling, Blaine went about fussing with the tiny fridge/cooler thing he had plugged into the wall and soon Sam found himself faced with a turkey on wheat, a small salad, a bowl of strawberries and acai berry juice.

"Dude, I love you," Sam breathed with a smile and Blaine's cheeks took on a rosy hue.

"Love you too," Blaine replied and Sam's mother patted his shoulder.

Turning to Sam, she said, "I like Blaine."

Okay, so Mom knew. "Me too," he assured her and, reaching out, tugged Blaine over to sit with him on the bed.

"Finally," Kitty mumbled from her bed, "the sappy, heart eyes and embarrassment finally end! Resolve that tension."

Sam sputtered as Blaine sighed and Mom laughed.

"I like her too."

"Can we bribe you into behaving with food?" Blaine asked her and Kitty smiled.

"Yes. The gruel and slime they serve for breakfast was disgusting and lunch was worse."

Sam laughed when she hugged Blaine when he gave her a salad with grilled chicken.

Life slowly went back to normal. Kitty, then Sam were released from the hospital, friends disbursed back to their own lives, the rest of the Evans clan went back to Kentucky… And, finally, two weeks later, McKinley High reopened.

There had been much discussion, but, in the end, the school board decided they couldn't afford to close the school and rebuild. This resulted in some students choosing to transfer, but others felt like returning was a step toward recovery.

News vans clustered around the edge of McKinley's campus, but if you stationed police officers kept him away from the returning students.

"This feels weird," Artie said as Tina pushed him toward the doors, the rest of the club clustered around them.

Murmurs of agreement rose up from many of the other students (not just the glee club), as the school looked the same but they knew it was different.

Things had changed. People died and those who lived had all found this new world thrust upon them.

Kitty was on crutches, already very nimble. Her Cheerios skirt did nothing to disguise the white bandage wrapped around her thigh.

Most of Joe's stitches had come out a few days earlier, but the stark red scars stood out on his pale skin.

Sam's own wounds were hidden by his clothes, though the sling was very obvious.

Stepping into the building, Sam felt Blaine go tense beside him. "You okay?" he asked, trying to see what had upset Blaine. There were new lock yours and paint (probably because of bullet holes or marks) but nothing too shocking.

"Yeah," Blaine breathed, shaking himself. "There was just so much blood the last time I was here."

With a grimace, Sam realized he was probably lucky to of been so out of it when the paramedics wheeled him out of school. He hadn't had to see any of the carnage.

"We're okay," Sam murmured, folding his hand around Blaine's and squeezing reassuringly.

On his other side, he felt Sugar's little fingers clench into the fabric of his shirt and he saw Brittany grab Blaine's free hand. All around them, the others found ways of linking themselves together, taking comfort in their friends.

And they were the only ones.

Students who previously would never exchange words smiled at each other, touched each other's arms, hugged. Arms were linked in there was a strange sense of unity.

Dumas, an asshole from the hockey team, nodded to Sam and didn't even glare when he saw that Blaine and Sam were holding hands.

All of them, the entire school were linked by tragedy. After seeing such horror, it was like the struggle for dominance at school became irrelevant.

A varsity football player known to be a bully stopped and helped the freshman pick up spilled books.

Teachers lingered in the halls (or, in Coach Sylvester's case, prowled them), watching students with kind or worried eyes. Mr. Foquette, the French teacher, was walking with a limp caused by a bullet that clipped his calf and Mrs. Mahoney, who had been Sam's English teacher sophomore year, was gone, had died trying to protect a student.

Bandages, slings, crutches and empty seats. Oddly quiet halls and subdued students.

In time, perhaps things would return to normal, but not yet.

In the moment, everyone was merely glad to survived and the lucky ones hadn't lost anyone they loved, though they were fully aware how close death had come.

As soon as Sam had been allowed out of bed, he went to the hospital chapel and thanked God for sparing his friends and prayed for those who had died.

Died because a group of students snapped under the pressure of school, bullies and life in general. He didn't know how anyone thought killing others would make things better, but maybe there were some things it was better not to know.

All he needed were his friends and his family and he had both.

On a lovely day, shots rang out in the halls of McKinley High. One had lodged in Sam's shoulder, but he had survived and was again walking the halls of his school with his friends.

That was something to sing about.