just call on me brother, when you need a hand

May 05, 2011 19:05

title: just call on me brother, when you need a hand
summary: five times sam had to look after his siblings by himself, and the one time a friend helped.
rating: T
pairing: none
genre: gen
warnings: very slight eating/body issues (and some neglectful parenting)
notes: written for a prompt over at the glee_angst_meme 
 One.

"Sammy, want to hold your sister?" His mommy asked, holding out a tiny red thing wrapped up in lots and lots of blankets. Sammy kinda remembered doing the same with Stevie, when Stevie wasn't the roly-poly toddler he was now (Sammy got in trouble for calling Stevie fat, his parents said it was just because he was a baby, when he was older he would be skinny and healthy like Sammy.) Stacey was a lot smaller though, and Sammy's arms trembled as he carefully took her from his mommy.

His daddy crouched down next to him, one strong arm holding Stevie while a gentle hand helped Sammy hold his little sister right. "Just don't drop her, eh? We went through some trouble to get this one." His daddy grinned and winked, which meant he was telling a joke, but Sammy didn't think dropping his baby sister was very funny.

"Don't scare him honey." His mommy said, sorta tired and sorta laughing too, hands soft as she patted Sammy's thin shoulder comfortingly. "He'll be fine. You're a great big brother, aren't you? You'll always look out for your brother and sister, right Sammy?"

Sammy didn't look up from Stacey's wrinkly face, nodding so hard his hair got all in his eyes. He hoped he wouldn't need to go to the barber soon, he was always worried the guy would cut off his hand or something and he wouldn't get a cool replacement for it. "I will."

"Starting now then Sammy?" His daddy set Stevie down by Sammy's feet (he immediately rolled over and giggled aimlessly up at Sammy and Stacey) and stood up. "I need to give mommy a reward kiss for bringing Stacey Jane Evans into the world." His mommy giggled and they kissed (gross) but Sammy didn't pay much attention, because even though they were right there his parents had trusted him with a job and Sammy was going to see it through. He hugged Stacey a little closer, nudged the still-giggling Stevie with his toe and knew he would never stop seeing it through. Sammy was a big brother for life.

Two.

Sammy carefully snuck into the kitchen, hearing his parents talking quietly on the backporch. He was being a ninja, super-quiet, because he couldn't be caught. He couldn't. So, quiet as a mouse, like a bunch of storm troopers were outside the kitchen instead of his parents, he pushed a chair over to the counter and clambered up. Then he pried open the cabinet, inch by inch so it wouldn't squeak, and pulled out a box of cookies. Just as quietly he shut the cabinet door and climbed back down, box held awkwardly in the crook of his elbow.

After pushing the chair back in place, he paused to check if his parents had noticed, but they were laughing about some movie they went to see last night -- they didn't notice a lot of things though. Feeling like Indiana Jones with a treasure and twice as proud, Sammy quietly bounded into the hallway, clambered up carpeted stairs and wandered down the hallway to the room he shared with Stacey. Sammy couldn't wait until she grew up some more so he could at least switch with Stevie, who was a boy. Sisters weren't as bad as regular girls but it was still kinda weird.

"Cookie!" Stacey squealed when he came in, slamming her plastic tea cup up and down so it rattled her saucers. Sammy hushed her, putting the box down. She grabbed for them, clumsy fingers just fumbling with the box. Sammy rolled his eyes but smiled, helping open them up. He should have grabbed an already opened box, but maybe his parents wouldn't notice. Like he had already said, grown-ups were bad at noticing stuff -- Sammy was the only one who knew where Stevie hid during kindergarten when he was feeling shy or when Stacey really wanted a snack and what type she wanted. Right now she wanted cookies.

"So now that we got food, we can finish the diplomatic meeting about the princess' kingdom --" Sammy tried, but Stacey's happy shriek when she first grabbed a handful of cookies cut him off. "Man Stacey, you're a sucky princess." He was trying to be mean, but not really. Sammy was always sneaking her treats, because he knew how happy it made her. Sometimes Sammy felt like those mama birds -- or you know, dada birds -- who had to feed their loud baby bird, because Stacey was nothing if not loud. It was worth it though, because it meant that just like those parent-birds he was looking out for her.

"Sammy wanna cookie?" Stacey asked, offering him one she had already slobbered on. Sammy made a brave face, thought of adventurers eating snake meat and other gross stuff, and accepted it. It still tasted pretty good.

Three.

Sam flipped his skateboard up, shaking his hair out of the way and gangly limbs easily carrying him up the front steps. Skateboarding home was about the only thing that made up for going to private school, but Sam couldn't wait to get rid of the uniform and go play some video games. He didn't have a lot of friends, and there wasn't much else to do where they lived. Sam wished they could move some place where he could be cool, because he got along with people but no one really wanted to spend time with him. It sucked. It really sucked.

"Sammy?" Stevie's voice came from the living room, and Sam stopped at the foot of the stairs. Stevie had stayed home sick, and Sam had promised to pick him up some gingerale on the way home. He hadn't though, because his mom had texted him saying she was going to run out and get it. That meant his dad should be around, but Sam hadn't see his car in the driveway. Worried, he darted into the livingroom.

"Hey bro. You alone?" Sam immediately dropped his backpack and crossed over to sit next to Stevie on the couch. His little brother didn't look too good, splotchy red and sweating and big eyes sad. When Sam placed a hand on Stevie's forehead he found him to be burning up.
"Mommy went for ging'r-ale," Stevie said quietly, his small hands reaching up to grab at Sam's wrist. Sam frowned angrily, but when Stevie looked even sadder back he forced himself to smile. He could worry about his stupid parents later, and his stupid mom who thought it was cool to leave Stevie alone with a fever. She had probably just assumed that because Sam would be home soon everything would be alright, but Stevie was too little to be home alone (even though Sam totally loved those movies and still watched them every Easter as a tradition with Stevie and Stacey.)

"Wanna take a bath?" Stevie's hair was sticking to his red forehead with sweat and Sam smoothed it back in concern. Stevie was quiet for a moment, and Sam could tell he had probably already bathed today and didn't really want to do it again like any normal kid, but he also knew it would make him feel better.

"Okay." Stevie finally said, moving to push himself up. Sam slid his hand to the back of his neck to help him, but Stevie looked so small in his Buzz Lightyear pajamas and so tired from being sick all day that Sam knew he wouldn't be able to climb the stairs on the own. So even though Stevie weighed a lot more than his backpack Sam scooped his brother up and began the slow walk to and up the stairs. A little too slow, really. Maybe Sam would start working out, in case he ever needed muscles to help his siblings.

Four.

"Sammy dear, can you help Stevie with math and make sure Stacey finishes that book report?"

"'Course," Sam mumbled, only half-listening through his ear buds. Truth was, he knew his sbilings' workload better than his parents and he had already helped Stevie with his times tables while Stacey was in the middle of writing about why the Harry Potter books were the best books ever. Sam totally approved, and may or may not have been the one to first read her and Stevie the books.

Sam decided to save his teen angst for another time though -- his dad had been attending lots of meetings lately, and business parties with his mom like tonight. Whenever Sam asked what was wrong his dad would say everything was fine, in fact he felt a promotion coming on, but Sam knew something was up anyways. So he didn't say anything about having to babysit for the third time that week, because it was just the sort of thing big brothers did.

After his parents left Sam played some of his newly-bought Lego Batman with Stevie, until he looked at the clock and decided it was time for dinner. He left Stevie to finish off the level on his own and wandered down to the kitchen. Sam's parents always left him lots of money for pizza, but they liked to add that if he could do something healthier they would be so proud of him, so he normally cooked when they left and saved up the money. Over the course of the past two years, Sam had gotten enough to own half of a guitar, which was pretty awesome.

The kitchen never stopped being intimidating to him though. This was where his mom and dad switched shifts on who cooked, where Sam was more used to grabbing a glass of water and some celery to snack on than making all the food. "Going to have to do it someday for myself," Sam reminded himself, grabbing a bag of chicken fingers from the freezer. He didn't follow that thought any further though -- Sam couldn't imagine life without his family, without his brother or sister.

Five.

"Ugh, Stevie stole my dollar. That was supposed to be mine Sammy!" Stacey tugged on Sam's hand, distracting him from rather longingly staring at his old guitar in the pawn shop window. "Mine! I never get money anymore! Mine!"

"Shh, it's okay, I know," Sam said, aiming for soothing but hitting more along panicked when he noticed that Stevie had run off with the purloined dollar. "Did you see where he went?" Sam's heart began to beat double-time in his chest. Shit. They were at Lima's mall, which wasn't huge but wasn't exactly a tiny boutique either -- losing Stevie here could mean danger. Sam's skin crawled as he thought about people like that creepy Mr Ryerson who had come to the Night of Neglect. (The night his parents hadn't come to because they couldn't afford tickets.)

"He's prob'bly buying candy." Stacey said petutantly, stomping her foot. Big eyes looked up pleadingly at Sam, but he ignored them, the steady crawl of panic becoming a seizing fear. This was very, very bad. He couldn't see Stevie anywhere.

"Come on, we need to find him." Sammy began to drag Stacey along, who seemed to finally get that Sam was worried and picked up her feet. Hand in hand they walked through the bustling crowd, and it scared Sam how a place that seemed so safe and fun normally, full of flashmobs and stuff he couldn't buy anymore now promised serious danger for his brother. Stevie was so little, even though he liked to think he could wander off whenever he felt like it.

"Excuse me ma'am," Sam tried, but the woman, regular old Lima-rude simply brushed past him. Sam tried a few more people but none of it was working, and next to him Stacey began to fidget. Sam, who could read her better than anyone, knew that there was a cryfest coming on and forced himself to stop and take some deep calming breaths in hope that she would mimick him. He just had to think. Where would Stevie go? Sam shut his eyes tightly, but thinking was so hard when he was so tired. He never got any sleep anymore, between money conferences with his parents and looking after his siblings. They were both so hyperactive, little bouncing balls of energy, little lights of Sam's life --

Sam abruptly began moving again, trying to squeeze Stacey's hand in comfort. He could hear her crying. Quickly he crossed the mall, pushing past people and keeping Stacey close until he reached the glittering lights of the arcade. Stevie was trying to charm more coins out of the lady behind the counter, and Sam didn't stop moving until he had his brother tight in his arms. "Don't scare me like that bro," he muttered into Stevie's hair, glad he was too tired for tears because crying in the middle of the mall really wasn't cool.

"Yeah! Stupid boy." Stacey sniffed from next to them. Stevie squirmed in embarassment.

"I just wanted to have some fun. I never have fun anymore." Stevie replied, not so much angry as resigned. "I hate being poor."

"It won't be forever." Sam promised, not for the first time. He rose to his feet, keeping a tight hold on Stevie's hand even though it embarassed him by this age and not letting go of Stacey's. "I'll look after you two. Remember that."

The worst part about that day was that neither of them looked very convinced.

and one.

"What colour would you like?" Quinn asked gently, showing that she had a good five different ones to pick from in her mani/pedi set thing. Sam watched with a tired smile as Stacey eagerly picked out a rosy pink (it sucked that she was finally going through her girly phase when their family couldn't pay for it.) Next to Sam Stevie was watching Quinn with open interest.

"Why are you staring like that? It's not like it's the first time you've seen her," Sam teased quietly elbowing Stevie a little. His brother yelped, turning just as pink as the nail polish Quinn was currently opening up while Stacey bounced in excitement on the narrow hotel room bed.

"She's pretty -- nice. And kinda cool." Stevie muttered back, ears bright red. "For a girl," he hastily added. Sam laughed. He could get that, because though things hadn't ended the best between him and Quinn they were friends here and now.

"Aren't you a little early on the puberty? You're so tiny," Sam would have tickled Stevie there, but he was too tired to move his arms too much. Instead he watched as Quinn began to paint Stacey's nails with steady hands. Next to him, Stevie blustered on for a little while before falling silent. Sam blinked heavily, forcing himself to stay awake. "So how was school bro?"

"Mrs Avery noticed that I wore this shirt three times this week," Stevie said flatly, and Sam's stomach clenched in worry. They really needed to do something about that -- maybe Quinn and him could find some second-hand stores and go shopping, though clothes weren't his forte she always dressed prettily. Sam couldn't risk having his siblings taken away by social services.

"What we need is someone who knows clothes," Quinn remarked from the bed, not looking up from Stacey's half-painted nails. "And someone who knows how to get the best deals on them. Kurt must have a superpower, if his closet hasn't bankrupted his family yet." All three Evans flinched, and Quinn shot Sam an apologetic look. "Sorry. But my point still stands. Kurt should help."

"Kurt's a good guy," Sam said after a long silence. Maybe it was because of the sleep he was fighting off of his weary limbs, or Quinn's way of making everything sound like the best idea ever, but he was honestly considering it. He trusted Kurt more than most of the Glee club, and he already knew about Sam's job and why Sam needed it. "Maybe. I just don't want to bother him ..." Stevie placed a small hand on Sam's arm at that.

"We need help," Stacey whispered quietly, but Sam heard. Wishing he could help them all on his own he closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slow and deep. A yawn rippled through him.

"I'll talk to him," Sam promised on the tail-end of the yawn. He tried to reopen his eyes, but suddenly Quinn was there, a delicate hand slightly calloused from years of cheerleading pressed against his forehead. Sam thought distantly of all the times he had helped his sick siblings.

"Shh. Just sleep. I'm here now, you have nothing to worry about." Sam never knew that Quinn could sound so motherly, and he remembered with a pang that she was a mother. Sam had always known Quinn accepted his shitty situation, but he had never thought that maybe she could relate to that loss. The fact that she could was oddly relaxing to him, and he allowed himself to drift off to the quiet sounds of Quinn asking Stevie about his drawings while Stacey blew tiny breaths onto her wet nails. It sounded like family, and his parents weren't even around.

For the first time in weeks, Sam slept peacefully.

the end
 

sam, rating: t, oneshot, quinn

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