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"Dude, wait up." Sam jogged up behind Blaine as he exited the auditorium after invitationals. "I need to talk to you."
Between the sting of coming in third due to New Directions' Machiavellian manipulation of Sue, and the still lingering emotional tsunami of his time in the elevator with Kurt, Blaine wasn't sure he had much bandwidth left to deal with Sam right now. But he could never really say no to Sam.
"Sure, Sam, what's up?"
Sam pulled him into the astronomy room. As Sam turned to close the door behind them, Blaine shook his head and propped it open instead. "I'm feeling a little claustrophobic at the moment," he explained.
Sam didn't seem to notice. He was pacing back and forth under the battered planet mobiles, and he finally spun a chair around and swung a leg over it to sit facing Blaine.
"I've been losing time," he said quickly. "More than normal. And I think it has something to do with Rachel. And maybe I'm doing things with Rachel. Romantic things. But I don't know what. You have to help me."
Blaine considered this. He had always wondered about whether Sam and Rachel might get together someday. When he and Sam had gone to New York for college interviews and his NYADA audition, Rachel had jumped at the chance to play dress up with Sam in support of his modeling career. The two of them had spent a lot of time together, and at one point during their group rendition of "Just The Way You Are" Blaine had seen some eye contact between them that strongly suggested something decidedly non-platonic might be brewing.
"It's okay if you like Rachel," Blaine said. “Are you worried about Mercedes? Because-”
"No, dude, you are so not listening to me," Sam interrupted, his eyes wide. "Rachel is not the problem here. I'm losing time. It's like aliens have come and stolen my brain, or, or, taken up residence inside me and whenever they're in control I have no knowledge of what happens. Maybe the aliens want to start a football team so they’re abducting me to train their alien quarterback!"
"Sounds like something in a really bad horror movie," Blaine said.
"I know, right? And I tried to tell myself that stuff doesn't really happen, but I can’t think of any other explanation."
Doesn't really happen, hm? Blaine thought to himself. His recent experience in the elevator suggested that ridiculously improbable and McKinley were not mutually exclusive concepts. The memory of that crazy Sue thing was still giving him goosebumps. "Did you ever see the Saw movies?" Blaine asked.
Sam stood up. "Wait, you think I'm murdering people? No way! And I haven't seen any puppets!"
"No, Sam, of course not," Blaine said, standing up and taking Sam's arm. "No one’s been murdered." But thinking about puppets did give him an idea. "Sit down. Tell me what you've been doing over the past few days."
Sam looked up, lips pursed, thinking hard. "Well, I've been watching the invitational. Where were you, by the way? Your Warblers were worried."
Blaine shook his head. "We'll get back to that. Did anything strange happen in the auditorium?"
Sam shrugged. "Other than New Directions winning? I don't think so."
"What else have you been doing?"
"I was in the choir room with Rachel."
"Were you in the back corner? Next to the air vent?"
"No, I was at the piano."
Okay, so that wasn't it. But he was sure Sue had something to do with it. "Have you seen Sue lately?"
"Sue? Sure. She's always coming into the locker room to talk to me."
"About what?"
Sam bit his lip, thinking. "I don't remember. But I think it had something to do with this watch on a chain she keeps showing me."
Blaine sighed. It was like the Mayan star wedding debacle all over again. "I think I know what's going on," he said, quickly looking up a website on hypnotism on his phone. Hopefully he could find some tips for Sam on how to avoid it next time Sue came around. "Remember how we talked about how some people are more open to suggestion than others?"
"Yeah, like people that watch conspiracy theory shows and get totally convinced that they're real? Did you see the one last week about fluoride? I think I might stop brushing my teeth for a while, just to be safe..."
"One thing at a time, Sam. First, let's talk about hypnotism."