I'm Exhausted (Samcedes)

Chapter One

Sam wakes up to the sunlight bleeding through his curtains, illuminating his pale skin. He doesn't feel the warmth like he used to, though. He seems to be stuck in the winter these days.

Groaning, he peels himself out from under the covers and stumbles his way over to the shower. He sits there for what could be hours, barely moving a muscle, just letting the water crash onto his back. Sometimes he feels as if it's the only place he can think; really think. Like he's just soaking his head to unrattle his brain.

He runs over his meal plan in his head, repeating the "rules" to himself over and over until it's ingrained in his memory. There isn't space for much else these days, just food, Mercedes, food, workouts, food, music, food. It's endless. He doesn't know if he loves it or he hates it.

After a while, Sam stops shivering. He's not sure why he's so cold all the time, especially when everyone else seems to be complaining about the heat, but he's grateful when he can feel even a shred of warmth. He wallows in the water until he hears Finn calling out to him: "Hurry up, dude! I need to brush my teeth." Sam sighs, hit by a pang of dread. He doesn't want to go to school. He doesn't want to show himself. "Yeah, Sam, I need to do my morning facial, are you almost done?" Kurt queries from the other side of the bathroom door. "Yeah...yeah, I'm sorry." He replies, though barely audibly.

As he steps out of the bathroom, he's met with a concerned look on Finn's face. This wasn't the first time, Finn had questioned Sam, although Sam was never sure why. He decided it was just because Finn is such a caring guy, because Sam is fine.

"Are you okay, man? You look kinda sick." He quizzes, checking Sam's temperature with the back of his hand. "Jesus, you're cold." He flinches his hand away, his growing disquiet becoming clear with his furrowed brow.

Sam scans his brain quickly for a response, an excuse, but his mind is clouded with his most shameful thought. He thinks, maybe "you look sick" is his greatest achievement. That means he's getting thinner, right?

"Nah, I'm good. Just my morning face." He scoffs, playfully punching Finn's arm before skating swiftly past him and into his room. He waits a few seconds by the door to make sure Finn hasn't followed him, and he's given the all clear when he hears the shower water come pouring down once again. Sighing with anticipation, he slides the scale out from under his bed and braces himself for the number to show.

"Fuck!" He hisses, slamming his foot against the scales. He promised himself, a solemn vow that he would lose 10 pounds this month, and he's barely lost 5. Where did he go wrong? He runs, day in, day out, 2-3 hour sessions in the gym, more if he has time. He's running on empty, the absolute minimum, and he's still managed to let himself down.

He feels like an ocean is brimming inside his chest, drowning him. He can't breathe, he can barely see straight. Tears prick the back of his eyes, all of his pain threatening to rain down his cheeks. He won't cry. He isn't weak.

"Boys, are you ready? I'll give you a lift to school." Carole calls from downstairs. Sam sighs once again. Burt and Carole have been so kind to him, there was no way he could've stayed at McKinley, with Mercedes, if they hadn't taken him in. He feels so guilty, because in return all he's done is barely manage to turn up to class. He hopes Glee club will be a welcome distraction, but deep down he knows that he will be pushed aside. Mercedes is a far better singer than him, Mike and Brittany better dancers, Rachel and Kurt more ambitious. Everyone has their USP. All Sam has is his pain and his guitar.

When Sam enters the choir rooms he feels like all eyes are on him, judging him, picking him apart in disgust. He sees the way they cringe at his body, silently questioning why he doesn't do something about it. They don't know that he's trying. And it's killing him.

He thinks that maybe the looks are worse than the hunger pains, the dull ache in his stomach. He feels so weak, like he's dragging an anchor along with him constantly, the rope tied tightly around his torso. He can ignore that, though. He knows that it will all be worth it in the end. He just wonders when the end will be.

"Hey there my handsome man." Sam feels two arms wrap around him as Mercedes buries her head in his neck. Sam wonders if she can feel the way his heart beats when she's near. "Hey gorgeous." He replies, pressing his lips swiftly to hers. He sometimes wishes he can just stop time, even just for a moment, to really take it all in. Her beauty, her talent, her passion, her never-ending empathy, it's all too much for him to register sometimes. He wonders why she even gives him the time of day.

"Alright guys, this week's assignment..." Mr Schue claps to ensure everyone's attention before skipping over to the whiteboard. On it, he writes one simple word. One simple word, yet so endlessly complicated: "Truth".