A/N: So a couple of warnings. There is thought of suicide and one failed attempt at suicide. It's a little darker than what I usually write but I had to write this out. I was not happy when Santana said what she said in the episode A Pot O' Gold to Rory. I know it was just her being mean like always, but that was just going too far, even for her. Still love her, but she's not in the best of light right now. I'm also sorry if there are any mistakes. I wrote this early in the morning and I have no beta. :( Enjoy though.
Rory looked into his locker, staring at the little bottle of pills he had taken from the kitchen drawer when Brittany's parents weren't looking. He's been in this school, in this country for less than a month and already he hates it. He hates his classes which were boring, he hates his classmates who bullied him or just pretend he wasn't there and he hates the teachers for ignoring his pleading eyes, who look the other way when he comes in with a limp or a bruised arm. Except Schuester, the Glee and Spanish teacher. He asks, in the beginning at least. One thing that Rory got really good at when he got to America was lying, to his antipathy.
He always hated lying, something his mammy always taught him never to do. But he learned quickly that that's the only thing that can help him in a place like this. If he told the truth, he would be going home, having to face the worry of his mother and family. But it would be easy, just leave and go back to Ireland. Forget Lima, Ohio, about McKinely High School. But he couldn't forget, he couldn't leave now, there would be too many questions that he would rather leave unanswered. And knowing his mother, she would nag him until she got what she wanted.
And to tell her what's been happening? That he had been humiliated at school, that no one even wants to speak to him and they only do to throw insults at him or to push him into those hard, metal lockers. Just thinking about it, makes him shudder in disgust and recoil. No, he can do this, he thought. He can make it this year, just one year away from Mammy and Da and then he would go back. The year will get better, he thought, the second day of classes. It had to get better. He told himself that for about two weeks. It didn't get better.
He thought it would, when he became better friends with Brittany. Alright, so his motives were a bit darker than he appeared, but even so he just wanted to be her friend as well. So when Brittany told him about how he wasn't a leprechaun, he was hurt because he knew that he betrayed her trust. She wasn't as stupid as she looked, not really. He was completely sorry and he wish he could take it back. He almost tries but then Santana walks up to him and says, "I have one final wish, leprechaun. Do this school a favor and just disappear."
His blood ran cold. No one had ever told him that, even as a joke. And she had looked serious. Sure, she was smirking, but her eyes weren't sparkling. They were dark and ominous. And he just wanted to dig a hole and just lay there for the rest of the day.
The ride home to Brittany's was a silent one. Usually, Brittany would talk the whole way about her day in classes and how she was going to save the school from the oncoming zombie apocalypse with girl power when she won the presidential election but not this time. And Rory did nothing to change that. He said hello to the Brittany's parents, smiled politely and declined their offer of dinner, saying he had a lot of homework to do and would eat later. Really, he just didn't have the appetite. Actually, he felt anything entering his stomach right now would just be thrown up in a matter of seconds.
That night, Santana's words echoed in his mind, as if she were in the room right now with a megaphone he usually saw the blonde cheerleading coach using, screaming in his ear, "Disappear! Just disappear!" He turns to his side and cries silently, as softly as he could so that he wouldn't wake up the rest of the family. 'It'll be fine,' a little voice said in his head, 'It will get better.'
That was four weeks ago. Everyday he would go to school, looking happy and smiling, brushing off the locker slams and insults. They were bad, but in his opinion, the silent treatment was worse. People wouldn't talk to him. Sure, the glee kids were kind and would speak to him during club time, asking for his opinion and such, but that was once a day. The rest of the day, he was pretty much alone. Finn had taken up being his body guard of sorts, but when he wasn't around (which was often) the other jocks would pounce on him like lions finding fresh meat.
There were bruises on his back and his arms. His clothes were stained from the "slushie facials" he delightfully discovered during his second week. And the worst part, he didn't have a single person he could really talk to. Finn was too busy down at the car shop or with his girlfriend. And he didn't feel particurlarly close with any other of the glee members. Not for lack of trying on either parts, just that their lives were all busy. They were all older than him so they all didn't have a class with him. They just didn't have much to talk about, other than singing. And he thought that some of them might be resenting him, he could tell.
He's never felt this way before. Not a single person in an entire country, an entire school to call a friend. And every day, those words Santana spoke to him began to get louder, like a mantra, "Do this school a favor and just disappear. Just disappear."
Now he was standing at his locker, looking at the small bottle of pills, sitting there innocently baleful. It was after school, no one was around. Brittany had left ahead of him, saying she had to do something with Santana and he could walk home if he liked, it wasn't too far. Rory nodded, not looking at her, "That's fine. It's a nice day…" She smiled him a little before waving and twirling off to find the she-bitch.
He sighed, clutching his back pack straps closer together. Rory didn't want to go back anyway. If he was going to do this, he wouldn't do in the Pierce's home. That wouldn't be right, they had been so kind to him. It would be rude to find him dead in their house, after showing him such hospitality. Plus, he didn't want Brittany to have that reminder in her own home. She was too innocent. No, he would do it a couple of blocks from school. He already left a note by his bedside so that the Pierce can locate the body, if nobody else finds him.
He sat down on the stairs, the pressure building up now. Reality was hitting him and hitting him hard. 'Stop it,' he thought, 'Don't be a coward, just do it. Get up and go.' But his legs wouldn't listen to him. It was as if half his body had already gone on without the rest of him. He almost felt envious if he wasn't trying so hard not to sob. Rory cradled the bottle of pills in his hands, staring down at them, trying to build up the courage to just get up and move.
"Rory?" he heard behind him. He froze in place. "Rory, is that you? What are you doing here, glee club ended hours ago." He knew that voice, it was one of the New Direction members. Kurt, he reminded himself. Coming to his senses sort of, he wiped his eyes furiously, "Oh, ya, I was jus' on me way." He said that, but he still didn't move, his legs felt so heavy. Kurt moved down the steps until he was at Rory's level, sitting down next to him. He could sense that Rory wasn't tell him the truth. "Rory, are you—" he stopped himself when he saw the little white bottle in the Irish boy's hand. Kurt's eyes glazed over a bit before he was hit by nostalgia and sad understanding. The boy's voice was really rough, much different from his usual smooth tone, meaning he had been crying his throat raw. He saw his eyes were read and blotchy and his body was shivering slightly, despite wearing a jacket. He's seen this before.
"Rory…what's that you're holding?" he asked, even though he knew what it was. Rory's jaw clenched and he drew himself in further, turning himself into a tight little ball. "Nothing, I just…I had a headache." Kurt just looked him, his face void of expression before saying, "You know, Tylenol wont kill you quickly. They ruin your kidneys and liver so if they don't pump you out quick enough, you'll be in excruciating pain for two weeks before you finally die." His voice was soft and stoic, or at least it tried to be. But underneath was a layer of sympathy and grief. Rory's head whipped up to look at him, not caring that they were puffy looking and nose was dripping. "H-how do you—-"
Kurt's heart broke at the sight of him and took out a handkerchief he kept in his pocket, clean of course, and gently started to clean his face. Rory leaned into the touch. It was the first time he had been treated so—dare he say it—maternally since he got to this damned country.
"I know because I've researched it…I thought it would just help me go to sleep and just not wake up, but then I found out that Tylenol is an acetaminophen. It destroys your organs and you can get kidney and liver failure. It's common for adult suicide attempts but rarely does it work the way they want it. Unless they want to die a horrible and painful death."
Rory's lip trembled, hands shaking. The bottle felt so heavy in his hands now. Seeing his distress, Kurt carefully pulled the bottle out of his tight grip and placed it in his bag, away from the unstable boy.
"You…you wanted to…to—"
Kurt nodded then, knowing what he was asking, "Yeah…most of my freshman year and a part of my junior year. It was actually worse last year, right around my dad got sent to the hospital. I just…I just couldn't take it. I see you, you know. When they bully you. I've been there. They've mostly left me alone this year because of my dad and the rest of the football guys in glee, but I can still feel the burns and bruises."
Rory shook his head, "But why? Why would you? You 'ave great friends and—and a boyfriend, ya? Why would you ever—"
"Because during my freshman year, I was completely alone. No one would talk to me, or look at me, other than to push me into lockers or throw me into dumpsters. But I took it in stride because at least I had my dad. Then I got into glee club and met Tina and Artie and Mercedes and everyone else. They became my first friends in school, I got better at ignoring the bullies because I had somewhere I felt I belonged to, because we were all on the same boat. Then my sophomore year…all my friends were getting into pairs, going on dates, being in love. That I could take. It was depressing, but again, I had my dad. And then he got hospitalized. Those couple of days…they were my darkest period.
"I had done the research, I had everything ready. I knew that as soon as the doctor told me that my dad was a dead, I was going to take the pill and just forget it all. But then he got better. He was back home with me. I got a new family. But I wasn't getting better. I kept the pills and my note under my bed. Everyday I would write a new note. I would edit some things, add some more in. I have about three dozen letters under there now. All either uncompleted or crumpled up. The bullying wasn't getting better either, it got a lot worse.
"Then there was this one boy and he was making my life a living hell and I just wanted it stop. I didn't want my dad to be hurt by losing me…but there was a part of me, a very dark and horrible part in my mind, that said that it was okay cause he had Finn now. Finn and Carole, they would take care of him. Finn was the son he always wanted, I wouldn't be missed too bad. I know," he stopped to catch his breath and to look at Rory's mesmerized and horrified expression, "I know, I was stupid for thinking like that. But that's how I felt. And sometimes those kinds of feelings, along with loneliness and just feeling so empty that it hurts, you kind of lose your sense of reason." Rory nodded, knowing the feeling exactly.
"How did you…how did you stop…feeling like that?" he asked, his hands shaking a little less. He still felt cold.
Kurt sighed, smiling softly, "I met Blaine. And the world just…just lit up. Plus, I finally told my dad about the bullying and about…about my thoughts. My friends started to notice the constant pushes and shoves and they started to stand up for me. Everything it..it fell into place for me. The day I met Blaine, that's when it started. I had a lousy day then, my thoughts were a lot more bleak and the box under my bed was looking at more enticing the more I thought about it. And I was walking down the stairs and I tapped some random boys shoulder to ask why everyone was going into one of the bigger rooms and every evil thought in my head washed away completely. And then he held my hand. It was the first time a boy let me do that without wincing away or feeling awkward about it. Blaine's not a miracle worker, by any means, but he certainly helped me the most."
When it looked like Kurt had finally stopped talking, Rory bit his lip and said, "Why…why are you telling me all of this?"
Kurt was hesitant at first, not sure if Rory would like it, but Kurt shook his head and clasped one of Rory's hands into his own, clutching it so tight they were shaking.
"Because I don't want you to go through with what I went through. I don't want you to succeed with what I didn't do. I want you to know that there are others like you, people that are here to help you with whatever we can. I want to get to know you, the real you, because I know that you are such a great guy. The rest of this damn school can go screw themselves. They're so ignorant, they're all practically one sign up sheet away from following the West Boro cult. You are a great addition to this messed up school and you would be missed greatly if you were gone."
That was it. Rory lost it. He sobbed heavily on Kurt's shoulder, while Kurt rubbed circles between the shoulder blades, something his mammy used to do when he was sick. This is all he wanted. Someone to listen to him. To get to know him. To understand him. He just wanted to be acknowledged. The voice telling him to disappear was beginning to quiet down just a notch.
Once Rory finally calmed down a bit, his face flushed, feeling mighty embarrassed. "Sorry…I can pay for your coat…" Kurt shook his head, "It's fine, it's machine washable, thank God. Listen, I saw Brittany already leave with some of the other cheerleaders, so I'm guessing you don't have a ride home. Want me to drive you to her house? It's not that far from here but I doubt you want to walk the whole way back."
Rory shook his head, his voice quivering just a tad, "No—I mean, ya, I wouldn't mind…" Kurt stood up and helped Rory up as well. His legs didn't feel like lead anymore. He was all there, if not a bit wobbly. Sensing the disturbance of equilibrium, Kurt wordlessly hooked his arm around Rory's to help him walk. Rory said nothing but was grateful for the lending hand. "So, I was thinking. Some of the glee clubbers are coming over to my house for a movie marathon and junk food (though I tend to avoid most of it). Do you want to come?"
Rory stared at for a moment before nodding dumbly, "Ya…I'd love to." Kurt smiled warmly, "Great, I'll give you the address, or you can just ask Brittany, she knows where I live. Actually no…she thinks I live in a castle made of cotton candy and I have a stable of winged unicorns…I'll just give you my address."
When they finally got to the Navigator, Kurt turned to Rory, giving him a more serious look. "Are you sure you're okay? We can call someone if you like?" Rory took a moment to think about before a gurgling sound in the pit of his stomach answered for him. He blushed, "Actually, I think I can go for some food…there's no one at home right now and I don't want to mess up their kitchen." Kurt rolled his eyes, but laughed all the same, "Okay, I'll take you to a fast food place, because it looks like you need it. But you have to come over soon so I can make you an actual home cooked meal." With that, he turned to open the drivers seat. Rory stood there for a moment, wondering about the question Kurt asked. Was he feeling better? That was a given. But the voice in his head was still there, an tiny echo, still audible. But Kurt's voice was a lot louder, "Are you getting in or not? I'm paying for you, so you better be grateful."
Rory smiled, a real, genuine smile that he hasn't done in weeks. It would take a bit of time. He wasn't completely "cured." But he knew now there were people willing to listen. Willing to be his friend. Yeah, he was going to be fine.