Chapter Text
Sam Evans uses the tip of his shoe to pull down the kneeler in front of him, hurrying to get into the right position. At eight years old, he’s pretty sure he’s never been so nervous in his life. Today he’s receiving his First Communion, a bit later than most kids because of not having time for the classes, not to mention how slow he was when he managed to get to them.
He’s nervous, but after giving his confession before Mass begins, it all seems to go by in a blur. He glances at his parents once, and they smile at him before turning their attention to his new baby brother, who begins to make a fuss.
He makes his promises to God and does the proper prayers and before he knows it, it’s his turn to hold out his cupped hands and receive the flat little disc.
“The Body of Christ,” Father Basil says.
“Amen,” Sam responds dutifully, doing the sign of the cross and placing the bread on his tongue.
The taste of the bread lingers even over the taste of the wine as he sits in the pew, waiting for the service to end so he can go home with his parents and work on his reading assignment for the next day. Even through the brunch his mom makes them, the bland, not-unpleasant taste stays, and it somehow makes him feel closer to God; a phrase he never really understood until now.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when Miss Pillsbury calls him out of class. Maybe something about his second SAT scores or another scholarship suggestion, but he definitely doesn’t expect to be sat down in her office and told that—
“Your sister, Stacey,” she begins gently, and Sam already feels muscles tighten and brain go blank at the tone of her voice.
“I’m sorry, what?” he asks, having not heard what she said.
“She was in a car accident. Her condition is critical and the doctors aren’t sure if she’ll make it. I’m so sorry,” she says, but Sam stopped listening after the word ‘critical’. He needs to see her, needs to get to his family, needs to help make this right and his parents can’t afford this, there’s no way—
“Sam, Sam, calm down; they’ll figure it out, I promise,”
He doesn’t even realize he’s saying everything out loud.
“I need to get to them,” he says hoarsely, pushing the words out of his lungs. “My family needs me.”
“I understand, but you can’t just take off—,”
“I’m going,” he retorts forcefully, standing and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Where are they?”
She sighs and holds out a scrap of paper to him. “This hospital in Louisville. How are you going to get to Kentucky? You don’t have a car!”
Sam doesn’t know how to answer. She’s right, he doesn’t. He quickly decides that he doesn’t care. He’ll walk to Kentucky if he has to.
He doesn’t even think of asking his friends until he sees Tina walking down the hallway toward him.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asks, but he doesn’t reply, just walks up and grips her shoulder.
“Are you busy?” he asks. Her eyes go wide at the urgency in his voice and she shakes her head.
“I mean, there’s school, but I could certainly go for doing something more interesting.”
“I need you to drive me to Louisville.”
Tina’s eyebrows shoot up. “Kentucky?”
“Yes,” he replies shortly, and there must be something in her eyes that speaks to her because she nods quickly.
“Of course. What’s going on?”
It’s like he’s talking on autopilot as he explains what’s happening. He barely notices her gasps or her tiny hand squeezing his tightly. He does register her saying something about getting Blaine, and before he knows it, his best friend is hugging him incredibly tightly and then leading him outside.
He doesn’t like not being in control, but at the moment, he’s never felt so helpless.
Sam’s ten when Stacey is born.
He paces the waiting room in a mimic of what his father did earlier. The old lady in the corner smiles at him, but he doesn’t respond. He has bigger things to worry about, like taking care of Stevie while Mama has his sister or remembering all the words to the song they’re learning in music class.
He doesn’t even realize he’s singing until the old lady speaks up.
“You have a lovely voice, young man,”
Sam stops pacing and turns to her. His nose crinkles as he says, “Lovely?”
“Oh, no, forgive me; I meant manly,”
He nods. That’s more like it.
“Are you waiting for a new brother or sister?”
“Yes ma’am,” he answers, remembering his manners. “My brand new baby sister is going to be here any minute now.”
The lady looks impressed. “Is that so? Are you excited to be a big brother?”
Sam puffs out his chest. “I’m already a big brother! That’s my brother Stevie right there. He’s a baby, but I can take care of him.”
“I’m sure you can,” she answers seriously.
He continues his pacing. It’s really boring, but his dad does it, so it must be important. Maybe it’s like exercise or something.
When Papa comes into the room, Sam walks to him quickly.
“Is she here? Can I see her? What’s her name?”
Dwight’s smile is tight as he reaches down to pick up his son. “She’ll be here soon. Baby is…sick. The doctors need to look at her and try to make her feel better, okay?”
Sam nods, though he’s really disappointed. He just wants to see his baby sister!
His father puts him down and, with a parting kiss on the head, leaves the waiting room again. A few seconds after he leaves, his aunt Shaina comes hurrying into the room.
“Sammy! Where’s your dad? Is the baby here?”
Sam stands straight and gives her the information he has.
“Baby is here, but she’s sick so Dad had to go see Mom again while the doctors try to make Baby okay.”
Aunt Shaina’s face falls, but quickly goes back to the smile. “Okey dokey. Where’s Stevie?” Sam points to the corner with the blocks and toys, where Stevie is totally unbothered by anything happening around him. When the toddler sees Shaina, his face breaks out into a gummy grin and a giggle bubbles out of him.
Sam continues pacing. He doesn’t know why, really, but he has a bad feeling in his tummy. It’s like that time he saw a dead kitty on the road; that time, Mama told him to pray for the kitty and then he would feel better because he would know that God was taking care of it.
It had worked then, so he thinks it might work now. What’s the harm in asking God to make his sister better?
He takes a look around to make sure no one is watching him, and then sneaks out of the waiting room. He remembers his dad taking him for a walk before and showing him the little hospital church. He finds it easily and walks in with no one noticing him.
Just how he does every Sunday, Sam uses the toe of his shoe to pull down the kneeler before beginning to pray. He might not be very old, but Sam knows there’s something special about the way his body seems to relax when he begins to speak to God.
Of course, God doesn’t say anything back, but that’s fine. Sometimes it’s nice to know someone’s listening, even if they don’t say anything back. His mind, usually so confused and full of thoughts and ideas, begins to clear and he can finally just focusfor once.
He says a lot of things in his mind, asking God to hurry up and make his sister better, to make sure that his Mama gets out okay, to maybe help him figure out a way to buy a new G.I. Joe…that sort of thing.
After almost fifteen minutes of silent prayer, the only word Sam utters is a soft ‘Amen’that echoes through the tiny chapel.
Sam sits in the waiting room with his parents, Stevie, Blaine, and Tina without saying a word. Stevie is off in the corner with a book, but he’s clearly not reading it. His eyes are frozen on the paper and Sam knows that his brother can’t think of anything or anyone but his sister, to whom he is so very close.
His parents lean against each other with tear streaked faces. His father’s cheek bears a long, thin, stitched wound and his mother’s right hand is bound in some sort of cast. They had been on their way to pick up Stevie from a field trip when the accident had happened. Sam doesn’t know many details; none of them can really say much.
Blaine and Tina sit on either side of him, each holding one of his hands and both resting their heads on his shoulders. He rests his head against Blaine’s while lacing his fingers through Tina’s and gripping her firmly. He can’t bring himself to say anything to them, not even ‘thank you’, but their bodies pressing against him make him feel at least a little sane.
His father stands and gruffly says that he’s going to go find some coffee. No one follows him or gives him any indication that they’ve heard him. No one really has the energy.
He concentrates on the steady rhythm of Blaine’s breathing and Tina’s pulse pumping beneath his fingers. He’s so focused on those that he doesn’t notice Tina’s bowed head and her lips moving in silent prayer.
He certainly doesn’t think to pray himself.
Sam returns to the waiting room and is immediately pounced by his aunt.
“Sammy, where did you go?” She asks, eyes wide with worry.
“I just went to pray,” he answers earnestly.
Shaina sighs and bends down to hug him. “Don’t take off on me like that. Next time, we’ll all go, okay?”
Sammy nods, but he’s glad that he got to go alone. It makes him feel like a grown-up.
Just then, his father walks in with a smile and Sam just knows.
She’s here.
Sam plants a kiss on Stevie’s forehead before moving to Stacey’s. Their parents are out at a New Year’s Eve party and have finally deemed Sam old enough to babysit. He’s fourteen and home on break from his first semester at boarding school and he’s honestly just happy to be back with his siblings. He’s fine without them, but he hates thinking he’s missing their childhood.
He’s just tucked them into bed, but it’s so late that he decides to just let them stay up until midnight with him. He’s perched on the end of Stacey’s bed, trying not to laugh at their constant bickering. At some point, their voices die out with their exhaustion from the day. Finally, the little boy turns to look at his brother with tired eyes.
“It’s almost the new year,” Stevie whispers with toothy grin. Sam smiles back and moves to the other bed to ruffle his brother’s hair.
“Only one more minute,” he whispers in response, motioning for Stacey to join them on Stevie’s bed. She scrambles over and snuggles into his side, and he wonders why kids his age always complain about having little brothers and sisters.
The clock on the wall ticks to midnight and Sam covers his ears when Stevie and Stacey begin to yell. After a few moments, he pulls them both toward him and they end up in a ticklefest on the bed.
By the time they’re done, all three of them are grinning and red-faced, but also incredibly tired. Sam tucks Stacey back into bed and straightens out Stevie’s blankets over him. When their heads loll off into sleep, Sam smiles and goes to his room.
He likes taking care of them. He feels like a superhero.
Sam hears his father’s even footsteps approach the door. They’re far too slow, and his blood runs colder with every step closer, his throat growing tight as his heart races.
He looks up at his father’s vacant eyes and empty, limp hands and he knows.
She’s gone.