A/N: I don't own Glee or the characters or the song being sung here, the title of which can be found below.
Just Enough Time
Kurt Hummel sat rigidly in front of the vanity in the corner of his room, his pale underwear clad figure contrasting with the dark-stained oak vanity covered in bottles of various shapes and sizes. His turtle shell hairbrush lay next to an ever present pack of moist towelettes while cosmetic sponges stained by concealer were strewn about everywhere. He looked past all these into his mirror, combing his hair carefully back, spraying it with hairspray in an attempt to hold it in place. The spray didn't work, however, as after he took the comb away his bangs fell back into place directly in front of his forehead. He huffed in frustration before trying again with the hairspray, finally satisfied with his appearance once the unruly lock of hair stayed in place.
He beamed at his reflection, his glasz colored eyes sparkling as he ran his fingers vainly over his smooth, pale complexion. True, he was always conscious of his appearance, but it was especially crucial that today he looked as fabulous as ever. One year ago today his father had married Carole Hudson, making her Carole Hudson-Hummel, while his one time crush Finn Hudson had become his (overly-protective and annoying) stepbrother. In honor of the momentous occasion Kurt had organized a renewing of their vows, complete with a ceremony at the church followed by a colorful reception featuring none other than New Directions as the entertainment.
He ran over a few last minute details to the ceremony in his head as he got to his feet and crossed the soft rug-covered floor of his basement bedroom to his closet, rifling through the hanging clothes for the new outfit he bought yesterday. He'd had it tailored and dry cleaned, and he set it right at the front of his closet, but he couldn't find it now, and as he continued pushing past row after row of fabulous yet outdated or inappropriate clothing he grunted, annoyed, before giving up. He swung around and eyed his meticulously clean room, searching for the outfit, before he saw the tell-tale plastic dry-clean bag sticking out from under his bed. Stifling a small shriek at the mere thought of his virgin outfit habituating in the dusty confines underneath his bed, he ran to his bedside and dropped to the floor, reaching out to grab it. Just as his pale hand reached out to draw back the dust ruffle that lined his bed a tan hand shot out from underneath, wrapping around his frail wrist with surprising strength. Kurt screamed in terror as another hand whipped out from under the bed, grabbing him around the forearm and dragging him towards the bed, easily pulling him into the darkness despite his struggling to break free. Suddenly the hands released their death grip on his arm, leaving small marks along his delicately pale skin. He rubbed his arm, hoping that the marks would fade and not be permanent.
As he was distressing over his once beautiful arm, Kurt heard sniggering coming from under his bed. Approaching the area where only seconds before he nearly died from fright, Kurt fell to his knees and cautiously pulled back the dust ruffle to examine the sound. Once the light from the antique Tiffany's lamp in the corner of his room dissolved the darkness beneath the mattress Kurt spied the golden locks and big-lipped smile of his boyfriend.
"Samuel Stonewall Evans, I am going to kill you!" Kurt shrieked, grabbing a laughing Sam by the leg and pulling him out from under the bed.
"It's so hilarious when you say my full name like that," Sam said, lying on the floor, his blond hair askew and remnants of dust clinging to his clothing. He tilted his head to the side, eyeing Kurt appreciatively before stretching and getting to his feet.
"I'm serious. You won't see the light of another day again," Kurt promised. He turned on his heel and crossed his arms, still not yet willing to forgive Sam for scaring him so.
"I know," Sam sighed. Seeing Kurt was pissed, he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's small waist, his hands meeting at the center of Kurt's stomach. Kurt was still mad, but feeling Sam's warm embrace on his naked skin caused his tense shoulders to soften and a small smile to replace the frown on his face. Knowing he was forgiven Sam placed a soft kiss on Kurt's neck, making the countertenor blush in arousal. He then lightly kissed Kurt's shoulder, working his way down the arm he grabbed while he was under the bed, gently kissing the bright pink hand prints that had appeared there.
"If I have any bruises I'm going to get Finn and Puck to kick your ass," Kurt said, shivering each time Sam's lips made contact with his skin.
"Trust me, if I did anything to mark your perfect skin I'd kill myself," Sam said, kissing Kurt's wrist before working his way back up again to Kurt's lips. He playfully chewed at Kurt's lips before slyly slipping his tongue in and licking the edges of Kurt's teeth.
"Stop," Kurt whispered, trying to pull away from Sam's kisses despite his heart and his groin telling him not to. He tried to get out from Sam's embrace but Sam kept his arms tightly wound around Kurt, never wanting to let him go. "We can't. Not here. My dad is upstairs and Finn could come down any minute and…unf," Kurt moaned as Sam nibbled on his ear and his hands slid lower and lower on his body, finally reaching the waistband of his underwear. Sam delicately slipped a finger underneath the elastic, running it across Kurt's skin, enjoying the contrast between the rough cotton and Kurt's impossibly smooth ass cheek. Just as Sam pried his fingers between the warm opening of Kurt's ass Kurt pulled away, pushing Sam onto the bed.
"Come on, Kurt. Please?" Sam whined pathetically from where he lay, letting out a pout with his large lips that normally Kurt couldn't resist.
"Absolutely not," Kurt said, slapping Sam's hands away as they reached out to touch his skin again. "The ceremony is in an hour and I still haven't changed yet, and I'm going to have to rush and iron my outfit again myself because someone thought it would be funny to hide it under my bed."
"It was funny," Sam defended, chuckling. He grew bored watching Kurt rush around the room, especially once he slipped into a robe and covered up his sinfully round ass, so Sam occupied himself by scanning Kurt's room for any form of entertainment. He eyed Kurt's phone, left on the bedside table, and reached out to play with it. Swiping the screen open with his finger he was met with an all too familiar background picture.
"What's this?" Sam asked, raising Kurt's phone so he could see it.
Kurt dropped open his ironing board and set about untangling cord to the iron as he looked at the offending picture. "Look in the mirror; you might recognize whose picture that is."
Sam scowled once he realized Kurt's joke. "Ha ha. I know it's me," Sam said. "What I meant was, why did you choose this picture as your background?"
"Because it's my favorite one of you," Kurt answered simply, pulling the sleeves of his tux out so he could iron out the wrinkles.
"But I look dead here," Sam said, eyeing the picture unfavorably.
"You're just sleeping," he said.
"When did you even take this?" Sam asked.
"Last Thursday when you slept over," Kurt said. "You looked so cute and innocent so I took a picture of you sleeping before I, well…" Kurt blushed as Sam remembered the way Kurt woke him up that morning.
"That was a good day," Sam reminisced. His eyes glazed over as he thought back to that morning and the incredible orgasm he received courtesy of Kurt's mouth.
"Shut up," Kurt said as he saw Sam's smirk. He threw the metal hanger that accompanied the suit at Sam's head, causing the blond to cry out in mock indignation. "Why aren't you at home getting ready for the ceremony?"
"Because I'd rather be here annoying my boyfriend," Sam said, toying with Kurt's phone. Looking up at the sudden silence, he swore he saw steam coming out of Kurt's ears. It was a moment before he realized it was just the iron, but still, he could tell Kurt was mad. "Whoa, I'm just joking!" he said, trying to diffuse Kurt's anger. "I promise, I'll be in my suit when I'm at the church. I swear!"
"You'd better be," Kurt warned. He turned back to his ironing, pressing down a little too harshly on the lapels. "And stop playing with my phone. Last time you messed around with it I found over twenty pictures of your abs in one of the folders."
"What can I say?" Sam asked, picking up his shirt and tracing the hard ridges of his six-pack with his fingers. "These babies are my pride and joy. Besides, you know you loved it," Sam accused.
"No, I didn't," Kurt denied, when in fact he'd spent most of the night he found the pictures with his hand down his pants.
"Kurt, I can totally see your boner through your robe," Sam said, smiling wickedly. Kurt huffed before tightening the tie around his waist.
"Out," Kurt commanded, pointing toward the staircase.
"Come on, babe. I was just joking," Sam said, rolling over onto his stomach and clutching a pillow beneath his body. "Come lay with me."
"Did you not hear me before when I said that I have an hour to get ready?" Kurt asked as he turned the iron off and hung his shirt up. "You know how much this vow renewal means to Carole, and I don't want anything to go wrong, including being late."
"I know," Sam said, dropping his head down onto the bed, "but it's just a ceremony. Hey, let's go to the park!"
Kurt eyed his boyfriend unsurely before untying his robe and slipping on his pants. "Sam, you know I adore when you act like a five year old because it's just precious beyond words, but I need you to put your big boy pants on now and realize that this is a big deal, not only to me but to my family, and we have to go."
"I just…don't want to go," Sam said, his face still buried in Kurt's bed.
"What's wrong?" Kurt asked as he pulled on his shirt and buttoned it up. He approached the bed and softly stroked Sam's head. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Mmhmm," Sam mumbled into the bed sheets. Lifting his head up he looked at Kurt before saying, "I just want to spend as much time with you as I can."
Kurt sighed. He sat on the bed next to Sam, the blond resting his head on Kurt's thigh. Kurt cringed at the possible creasing and wrinkling to his brand new pants but he pushed that to the back of his mind as he continued stroking Sam's blond hair. "Is this another senior thing?" Kurt asked. Sam remained silent, clutching softly at Kurt's thigh.
Taking his silence for agreement Kurt said, "I know this is our last year in high school, but that doesn't mean it's our last year together. Your grades are really great ever since you started going to that tutoring place, and once those colleges in New York get a look at your extracurriculars and those recommendation letters from Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury you're going to be a shoe-in. This time next year you and I will be walking hand-in-hand down Broadway, through Times Square and Central Park. Just you and me." Kurt leaned down and placed his hands around Sam's head, then gave him a light kiss to the forehead. Sam smiled but Kurt could tell it was forced. "Okay? You and I will have more than enough time together."
"Okay," Sam said quietly, the forced smile still playing at his lips. Kurt didn't know why his explanation didn't ease Sam's anxiety about their senior year, but he promised himself after the ceremony he would make sure his boyfriend was sufficiently cheered up.
"Wait," Kurt said, hearing a loud thump from above. He thought nothing of it until he heard it again, followed by another and another, only more rapidly this time. Kurt knew that sound.
"Sweet Gaga!" Kurt shrieked. He shot up from the bed and pulled Sam to his feet before shoving him into the closet.
"What's going on?" Sam asked quickly before Kurt silenced him with one word.
"Finn." Kurt slammed the closet door shut just as the door to his bedroom was flung open by his stepbrother.
"Hey," Finn greeted as he descended the stairs. Kurt was surprised to see that Finn was already dressed for the occasion, his black tux on and his tie was tied in a perfect Windsor knot. "Are you okay? I thought I heard you screaming down here or something."
"Um, no I just thought I saw a bug or something," Kurt lied.
"Are you sure?" Finn asked.
"Aside from momentarily feeling as if my heart would leap out of my mouth, yes, I'm fine. Fabulous actually, really looking forward to today."
"Really?" Finn looked at Kurt as if he were crazy.
"Yes. As hectic as these past few days have been I'm really glad that the big day's finally here and we can have the whole thing over and done with," Kurt said, running his belt through his pant loops.
"I guess that's one way to look at it," Finn responded. He toyed with his cufflinks for awhile, unsure if he should call Mercedes or Burt as back-up, just in case he needed extra help dealing with Kurt today.
"Did you get Rachel to dress you or something?" Kurt asked absentmindedly, fixing his own gold plated cufflinks.
"I can dress myself, you know," Finn said defensively, pulling at the tight collar around his neck.
"Oh, so you got your mom to dress you," Kurt accused.
"Uh, yeah," Finn said shyly. "She didn't want me bugging you, you know, with everything that's been going on," he said quietly. "But I think she made my tie too tight," he said, pulling again at his collar.
"Here," Kurt said, untying Finn's tie and adjusting it around his neck. Finn smiled at his little brother before muttering a 'thanks'. "And you should have come to me. Quit bugging Carole with every little thing, she's got enough on her plate."
"I think she'll be fine," Finn said, eyeing Kurt unsurely. "How are you doing?"
"A little frazzled, but I'm okay," Kurt responded, retrieving his own vest and tie before putting it on. "I just have some things going through my head."
"If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you, alright?" Finn said, resting his hand comfortingly on Kurt's shoulder.
"I'll be fine, Finn," Kurt assured him. "It's nothing I haven't been through before."
Finn looked at Kurt, uncertain of how he could handle all the stress and anxiety that came with today. "Okay, if you say so. I just came down to say my mom and Burt are leaving now, and to just let me know when you're ready because we have to stop off and pick-up Rachel on the way to the church."
"They left?" Kurt asked, looking up from where he was buttoning his shirt.
"Yeah, my mom said something about wanting to pick up flowers along the way," Finn said.
"I guess she was really against the bouquet of begonias I picked out," Kurt said.
"Maybe," Finn said, still looking at his brother as if he didn't understand a word he was saying. "Anyways, dude, just tell me when you're ready and –."
"– Actually, I figured I could just drive myself. I'm going to be awhile here." In reality, Kurt was almost done getting ready, but he didn't exactly relish the chance to spend an extended amount of time alone with Rachel Berry, whose conversation Finn would no doubt ignore, leaving Kurt to talk with her for the entire car ride.
"I don't know. Your dad was really Atom Ant about not leaving you alone," Finn said, hesitantly.
Scanning his brain for what Finn could mean Kurt said, "Do you mean 'adamant'?"
"I don't know. Do I?" Finn asked.
"Yes," Kurt said reassuringly.
"Well, they sound the same," Finn deflected. "Anyways, I know I'm not supposed to leave you by yourself."
"I'm not a child, Finn. I don't need supervision," Kurt said.
"I know, but your dad said - ."
"– Unlike you, who wandered off at the mall and had security page me over the intercom, which was one of the top five most embarrassing moments of my life, easily," Kurt said. "I assure you, I can get to the church on time and in one piece."
"Okay," Finn said. "But you're sure you're going to be fine?"
"And you'll go straight to the church? No stops?" Finn asked again.
"Yes," Kurt responded.
"Not even for a sale, or a musical, or a hot gay guy crossing the street - ."
"– Oh my God, Finn, yes, I can make it to the church just fine!" Kurt yelled. "Now please go, before I un-invite you from the ceremony."
"Wait, are you sure you weren't talking to anyone?" Finn asked as Kurt pushed him up the stairs and out of his room. "And please be there or your dad will kill me with one of his power tools."
"I'll be there, now go," Kurt said before slamming the door.
"Remember, you promised!" Finn yelled through the door. Kurt heard his heavy footsteps as he crossed through the living room, and then he heard the slam of the front door as he left the house.
Kurt let out a sigh of relief before walking over to the closet to let Sam know it was all clear. "I thought he'd never leave…Sam?" Upon opening the closet door Kurt saw that Sam wasn't there. "Samuel Stonewall Evans!" Kurt called out, rifling through his closet. "Where did you go?"
Just then Kurt heard the door to his bathroom creaking open, and he turned around just in time to see Sam walk out. "The full name thing was funny at first, but the last thing I want is for other people to find out I was named after a Confederate general," Sam said, flicking his bangs out from his forehead as he walked over to him. Kurt wondered how Sam could have gotten to the bathroom in the short time he had his back turned to the room, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he felt Sam push himself against his front.
"I like to think you were named after the infamous Stonewall riots that began the gay rights movement," Kurt said, wrapping his arms around Sam and planting a kiss on his lips. "Wow, you're lips are really cold," Kurt said, bringing his fingers to his own lips as if they'd been frozen from the contact
Sam in turn brought his fingers to his large pair of lips and felt their lack of heat. "Yeah, that happens sometimes. They get really bad blood circulation, probably because they're so big," he explained.
"Oh," Kurt said, running through his memory to a time when he ever found Sam's lips to be cold. Were they cold when he trailed those kisses down his arm before? He couldn't remember; he'd been too engrossed by the simple contact to pay attention to the warmth of Sam's lips.
"Hey, we better get a move on if you don't your dad to beat Finn to death with a socket wrench," Sam said, changing the subject.
"Wait, 'we'?" Kurt said, pulling away from Sam as if he had a strange disease. "You're still in a t-shirt and jeans."
"Yeah, I know," Sam said casually. "I can be out of them in a sec if that's what you want," he said deviously as he began pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his enviable six-pack for the second time that day.
"No, I'm serious," Kurt said, stopping Sam from undressing. "You can't go to the church like that."
"I told you, I'd be in a tux when you get there," Sam said, his eyes showing his sincerity.
"You promise?" Kurt said, not truly believing him.
"I promise," Sam said, placing another cold kiss on Kurt's lips. This time Kurt didn't mind the lack of warmth. "Now let's go."
"I thought you weren't so eager to go," Kurt reminded him. "You wanted to go to the park or lie in bed together, not to church."
"I guess it's inevitable that we have to be there," Sam said with a somber shrug.
"Remember, I told you we'll have all the time in the world once this thing is over," Kurt insisted.
"I know," Sam said, his eyes watering at his boyfriend's words. "All the time in the world," he repeated quietly.
"God, don't be so maudlin," Kurt said, pushing at Sam's chest playfully. "Now let's go before I'm late to my own parents' vow renewal."
Minutes later Kurt and Sam were driving down the road to the church, Sam's hand wrapped tightly over Kurt's as it rested on the gear shift between their seats. Kurt smiled warmly at Sam, who did his best to return his boyfriend's smile. Sam turned out to stare out the window, eyeing each tree and building they passed anxiously as they sped toward their destination.
Kurt turned the radio on to cut the silence, tuning it to cut through the static, before landing on a station that was clear enough for music to be heard. The twang of a banjo and the long, sorrowful chords of a violin could be heard accompanying the light voice of a country singer singing a mournful song.
"Ugh, I hate this song," Kurt said, lifting his hand to change the station.
"No," Sam said, reaching out to stop Kurt. "I like this song. Can you make it louder?" he asked. Kurt couldn't begrudge his boyfriend's music tastes; it wasn't his fault he was raised in the South where this type of music was actually popular. So he gave in and raised the volume.
Lord, make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother, she'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh, and life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no, ain't even grey but she buries her baby.
It was a little too depressing for Kurt's taste, but it made his boyfriend happy so he was willing to concede this one time to Sam's request.
Coming to an intersection, Kurt braked as their light was still red. He hated this particular traffic light as it seemed to run on a timer and not by sensor, and so it took forever to turn green. Feeling Sam's hand grip his own tighter, Kurt looked to his right and found Sam's usually tanned complexion turn pale.
"Sam?" Kurt took his hand off the gear shift to fully embrace Sam's own. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Sam choked out, forcing a smile onto his lips as he turned to Kurt. "I just hate this intersection. It takes forever, you know."
Kurt looked at Sam unsurely. He clutched Sam's clammy hand to reassure him. "Yes, I know," Kurt said comfortingly. Their light eventually turned green and once again they made their slow progress to the church.
Once they arrived Kurt rushed out of the car, his door slamming loudly as he ran to the steps of the small chapel. He stopped to throw his jacket on, running a careful hand over his hair to make sure no strands had fallen out of place. He felt Sam behind him, his hands in his pockets, looking awkwardly down as his feet kicked at the pebbles on the ground.
"You promised you'd be dressed by the time we got here. We're here," Kurt reminded him, pulling the lapels of his jacket straight and adjusting his cufflinks.
"I will be once we're inside," Sam said, looking up with watery eyes to meet Kurt's gaze.
"Are you a wizard now?" Kurt asked, chuckling.
Sam didn't laugh. He followed Kurt up the stairs, stopping Kurt before he could open the wide doors to the church.
"What is it?" Kurt asked. "Are you alright?"
Sam looked up to Kurt, his eyes red and watery, tears streaming down his cheeks. He grabbed him before he could say anything else, hugging him tightly with all his strength. Kurt returned the hug awkwardly, before something inside him made him hug Sam tighter. Now tears stung at Kurt's eyes, though none fell down his face. He could feel Sam running his hands along Kurt's body, as if he was struggling to contain the moment, to save the memory of Kurt's form for future memory. "Sam?" Kurt asked quietly, wondering what had come over the blond jock.
"I love you," Sam said urgently, his voice muffled as he had his face buried into the side of Kurt's neck. "I never thought it was possible to love someone so much, but you showed me how much love I'm capable of." Kurt stayed quiet, holding Sam tighter as the words spilled from Sam's lips. "I mean, we were only together six months, but we crammed so much into that time. I don't regret anything. I loved every minute, every second I spent with you. I just wish…I wish I could have bottled it up, you know? Take it with me."
"Take it with you where?" Kurt asked quietly. "Sam, you're scaring me."
"I love you, Kurt. I love you so much. I want you to never forget that," Sam said, pressing a cold kiss to Kurt's cheek, a few of his stray tears wiping onto Kurt's skin. "I love you as much as it's physically possible to love another person."
"I love you, too, Sam," Kurt said, wiping the tears from Sam's face. Sam sniffled, smiling gently before wrapping his hands around Kurt's face and kissing him one last time.
"I love you," Sam said again, letting go of Kurt. Kurt didn't know why, but he didn't want to let Sam go. He wanted to hold on to him forever, to never let him go, to keep him by his side always.
Sam gently pushed Kurt forward to the church doors, urging him to open them. Kurt didn't want to, but at Sam's insistence he did. The wide doors swung open, bathing the chapel in light. Kurt walked in, expecting to hear the joyous sounds of a wedding, complete with people 'ahhing' at the romantic vows his parents had prepared and laughing at the jokes Finn had no doubt worked into his toast as one of the groomsmen. Instead his eyes were assaulted by the sea of black outfits: he'd expected the men to be in black suits, but the women, too were decked out in black dresses, black skirts and cardigans. He looked around, wondering why it was so eerily quiet. Walking down the aisle, looking at pew after pew of people, he realized it wasn't really so quiet. People were sniffling, tissues bunched up under their noses to stop them from running, or holding them up to their eyes to dabble the tears away. Soft sobs could be heard, as could the uncomfortable shifting of feet and bodies on the rigid pews, the still silence broken intermittently by a cough or someone blowing their nose.
He tore his eyes away from the crowd and gazed directly forward to the front of the church. His stomach immediately dropped to his feet. There was a large coffin at the front, the stained glass window set behind it shining shards of colored light onto its dark mahogany surface. The lid was opened, an indiscernible figure lying, arms crossed, inside of it. With heavy feet Kurt continued walking down the aisle, no one stopping him or rising to greet him. Through the corner of his eye he saw his friends and parents sitting not too far from the front row, each and every one of them dressed in black. Puck was comforting Quinn, who was crying softly into a handkerchief. Santana and Brittany had their heads together, Santana wiping at a stray tear every now and then. Rachel used tissue after tissue to wipe her eyes, while Finn rubbed her back gently. Mr. Schue had his arm around Mercedes, comforting her, while Tina did her best to keep her composure, only to have it crumble moments later, with Mike ready at her side with a tissue. Artie and Lauren wiped at their eyes occasionally, Artie resting his hand on Lauren's in a friend's comforting gesture. Kurt ignored them and continued walking, a strange force propelling him towards the coffin in front of him.
He reached it and let out a gasp of surprise. Its contents shocked Kurt enough so that he nearly choked on his own breath. Sam Evans, his Sam, lay in its satin-lined interior, his eyes closed and his large mouth pulled into an expressionless line. He was in a gorgeous black suit, his arms crossed, a rosary tucked into one of his fists. He looked peaceful, calm, resting. He looked asleep.
"No," Kurt whispered. He turned around, expecting Sam to be right behind him. He'd been right behind him a second ago, hadn't he? Yes. He walked up the steps with him, and walked through the doors…No. He hadn't actually seen Sam walk in with him, but he felt him. He felt him behind him as he walked down the aisle. He had. Hadn't he?
He turned back to the coffin, Sam still there, his eyes still closed and his mouth still pulled across into a solemn line. No, this was a joke. Just like earlier when he hid his suit underneath the bed. It couldn't be real. Sam was joking, and they were all in on it. He was just pretending. But Kurt didn't find it funny. He wanted the joke to end now.
"Wake up, Sam," Kurt said clearly so that he could hear him, tears burning his eyes. He shook him gently, hoping to rouse him. "Wake up." Sam didn't stir. "Wake up, Sam," Kurt said more forcefully. By now the funeral-goers had heard Kurt's pleas, and Finn and Burt arose to comfort Kurt. Kurt heard them get up and he knew what they were coming for. They were going to try to quiet him, to keep the joke going to get more laughs. But Kurt wanted the joke over; he wanted Sam awake so that he could be sure this wasn't real, that it was instead just a horrible, horrible joke.
"Sam, wake up!" Kurt commanded, shaking Sam's body urgently. Tears blurred his vision as he reached out blindly to wake his boyfriend. "Please get up, Sam! Samuel! Sam, wake up!" Kurt shouted, his hands grabbing Sam's shoulders in an effort to wake him, Sam's stiff head lolling about but his eyes never opening. "Sam! Sam, please, this isn't funny! Wake up!" Sam stayed still, his face reminiscent of the picture Kurt had taken just days ago while Sam was truly sleeping. "Sam!" Kurt shouted again, demanding Sam acknowledge him.
Kurt was taken around the side by Finn and Burt, leading him away from the coffin with soft reassurances that it was going to be okay. Kurt broke away from them with a surprising amount of strength, turning back to the coffin. He lowered his face down and kissed Sam, his cold lips bringing Kurt back to only an hour ago when he swore Sam was in his room. "Please Sam, please," Kurt begged again, wrapping his hand around Sam's cold fist. "Please, wake up."
Burt and Finn pulled Kurt away again, this time Kurt going with them willingly. He walked down the aisle and out the doors, going outside, the sun blinding his wet eyes as he scanned the parking lot, expecting to see Sam standing right where he left him. Instead no one was there.
The doors to the church were still open as Kurt heard the priest announce that losing a loved one is never easy and we all deal with grief in different ways. Then he introduced the Glee Club, saying they'd prepared a song in memory of Sam. He heard the familiar sound of Quinn singing softly, her voice occasionally broken by her attempt to stifle a sob. The banjo and violins kicked in, and he realized they were singing the same song that played in the car on his way to church.
"If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song. The sharp knife of a short life, well, I've had just enough time."
"What is this? What's going on?" Kurt demanded, turning to his father and Finn. "What is happening?" he shouted over the music filling the church, flowing out the doors into the parking lot.
"Kurt, you're at Sam's funeral," Burt said bluntly. He walked up to his son and placed his hands on his shoulders comfortingly. "Okay, buddy? You're at his funeral."
Kurt looked back and forth between Burt and Finn, expecting one of them to either laugh or say the other was wrong. Instead they looked at Kurt pityingly, hoping he didn't crack again as he did inside the church.
"And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom, I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger I've never known the loving of a man but it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand, there's a boy here in town say's he'll love me forever, who would've thought forever could be severed by the sharp knife of a short life, well, I've had just enough time."
"No," Kurt objected. "No, Sam was just…I just saw him! He was right here!"
"I should have called you. He's been acting weird ever since I left him at home," Finn said ashamedly.
"It's alright, Finn. I shouldn't have left him alone," Burt said.
A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar, they're worth so much more after I'm goner, and maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singing, funny when you're dead how people start listening.
"That's right! At home!" Kurt said to Finn. "That's who you heard me talking to. Sam was there!"
"Kurt, Sam's dead. Remember? He was in a car crash last Friday," Burt said softly. "He's gone, buddy."
"If I die young, bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song. The sharp knife of a short life, oh I've had just enough time."
"We talked about this, remember?" Finn implored. "We went to the hospital and you saw him there. But he didn't make it out of surgery. He passed away, Kurt."
"Stop saying that! He was right here!" Kurt cried. "He was right…" Kurt spun around, looking for Sam. Instantly the words of his father and brother washed over him in a wave of dread. A cold feeling overtook him, even with the bright sun shining warmly on him. At once he let out a soft sob before crumpling to the ground in a heap of sorrow. Finn fell and caught him before he hit the ground, wrapping him in a comforting hug. Burt knelt down and rubbed his back softly. Kurt clung tightly to Finn, sobbing desperately into his jacket as he realized they were right, that Sam was gone, and he wasn't coming back. He felt foolish, wondering if he'd imagined Sam in his room, in his car, on the steps of the church. Had it been a selfish attempt to keep Sam alive, to keep himself from feeling the full brunt of Sam's loss?
"Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket, save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh, the sharp knife of a short life, well, I've had just enough time," Quinn finished quietly, a small sob escaping her lips.
Kurt cried, knowing that he wouldn't be able to delude himself anymore. Seeing Sam's lifeless body tucked into that coffin was more than enough proof for Kurt that he was truly never coming back. So Kurt cried, his tears soaking Finn's jacket as he mourned the loss of the first boy he'd ever loved and loved him in return.
IN LOVING MEMORY OF SAM EVANS.
The song played on the radio and that Quinn sings is "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry.
A/N: So this was really emotional to write. I've never killed off character in any of my stories before, so it was really new territory for me.
The idea for this story came about after hearing that Chord Overstreet wouldn't be returning for season 3, so of course I went through the million stages of grief (figuratively, though I could take my anger out on Ryan Murphy) and then I wondered how they'd handle his departure on the show, and this just sprang up while I was listening to "If I Die Young."
If you're mad that I didn't put a warning about the character death at the beginning you should really go back and read the story again. I left about seventy three clues (give or take lol) as to how this would end, and basically foreshadowed Sam's death from the beginning. So really you should blame yourself for not being a more careful reader. Yes, that's right. I blame YOU.
Thanks for reading and reviewing, you guys are awesome!