This is mostly a storytelling of the song How to Save a Life by The Fray. I do not own Glee or the characters.
Mr. Schue locked his office and quickly headed out the school doors. He could not wait to return home to his precious wife and- Wait, never mind. It was Friday, Terri had been attending some project at a crafts club tonight. At least he knew she wouldn't be sitting home alone awaiting him.
After breaking through hoarded traffic, he had arrived home and pulled out keys as he went to grip loose paperwork - only to remember that there was nothing in his arms. He swung in and found Finn Hudson, lounged on his sofa about crying slow drops.
He joined Finn, from across. The boy didn't wave, he was only looking at his lap grim and pale, not even allowed to make himself at home due to twists in his stomach and cramps in his mind. He could maybe sigh but that would just break the silence and bring his issues back to life.
Finn had nothing to say, nor even think. He closed his eyes.
Mr. Schue leaned over to place a hand on the boy's broad shoulder. He had been curious as to why and how Finn had gotten here, but the pressure of the moment made that insignificant. There was to balance between any possibility. It was probably just a game. Yes, a game, but it must be played right or everything is lost.
Finn could barely process that he had been sitting in front of his Spanish teacher, although he was aware that Mr. Schue was more than that. Deep in, he knew that the man was like a father to him, a father. And that father was going to welcome him and never judge him for anything. But as his concentration slowly came back, he realized that he had fell into too low of a ditch and that there were limits to forgiveness.
He daubed his finger along his eyelid to catch a highly visible tear. His Spanish teacher, and father didn't need to see that hurt. It wasn't a pride or strength thing, but more as a decency concern.
Mr. Schue tried to stop the harsh subject before it even began. "Why'd you come here? Just to visit?"
"Yeah," Finn mumbled, "to visit." He stood and wandered away, to the unknown direction of the kitchen. He was able to recognize Mr. Schue's home as he'd been there before, but his mind was just misplaced. Besides, it didn't matter, he just needed to get away for a moment. Coming here was probably a bad idea; he should have just sat home.
Mr. Schue casually said, "I think my wife, uh, took the rest of the coffee. I'll brew another..."
"No." Finn's tone was also average, as he was trying to help Mr. Schue create the mood. He wouldn't burst out right now since the teacher was trying so damn hard to hold him up.
Finn swiped a dampened rag and pressed it against his face. The cool of it would hopefully soothe him.
This was tremendously horrifying. Mr. Schue would hate him so much. This would never be okay, it was a total shame of his and he constantly put it on himself. He then felt even worse as he dropped the rag on the kitchen floor, probably soiling it, when he heard his name being called. He nervously paced out to the living room and around from there to act as on a search for the bathroom - really just avoiding Mr. Schue right now.
"Hey, Finn." Mr. Schue called. "Finn."
Finn wouldn't stop.
"Finn, are you okay?"
"Yes. But things..." Finn stopped his own track, only to murmur and build another speech road that Mr. Schue would comprehend. "I sort of came for help."
"Need to talk?"
"No, just company. Otherwise I would be sitting home alone right now, with Mom gone at work." Finn froze and faced the wall. He lied, he didn't need company. He was actually hoping to get some assistance and guidance through the malfunctions. But now he was being a coward, scared to admit and face the ugly side, especially full of the fear that his only true friend and father figure would push him away for such a soulless conflict.
"Oh come on, you'll feel better. Sit down, it's just a talk."
Finn let go of the demons in his mind for a moment to attempt making an impression of filtered glee. He grinned.
Mr. Schue was staring into him throughout the entire conversation. Finn wasn't sure whether it was because Mr. Schue could read him or if it had been plainly a polite gesture of him to focus.
It all seemed to part when Finn decided he could not release any more expression. It was as if Mr. Schue was many spaces away and they had been separated by a force, an invincible non-penetrable force.
He soon had no choice but to reveal the horror. "I cant take life anymore. I just want to die and end it."
He gulped. What had he done? Why had he said that? He finally grew courage to find Mr. Schue's eyes and by the appearance, he swore that Mr Schue was fazed and so damn low. He shouldn't have brought those words. He either worried the man or he sickened him with his crushing confession. He most likely dug a chunk from the soul of Mr. Schue.
The force isolating the two seemed as if it didn't matter, that it disappeared. Now it was only direction that kept them away from contact. It being as Mr. Schue floating off and getting further and further away, it made it even more intricate to have passion and to believe in the significance of this discussion.
Mr. Schue could notice his intensifying anxiety. It was easy to tell that he had no valid response to Finn's statement, and that he was unable to give relevant advice.
Now Finn felt helpless. He was unsure of how truly he'd been dwelling on this pain. Much of it was hopefully a phase. But what would phase mean in this case?
The topic confused him heavily. A combination of fear and blame, being in the center of that was only breaking him. There was no apparent conceding, just agreed suggestions and open declarations from the beginning. He had no ability to leave that position.
And neither would Mr. Schue if he were to be involved. That dwindled Finn's desire to let his mind out. He didn't need to shoot Mr. Schue's nerves now nor ever, this was quote "just a talk" and it did not require causing any more uproar than there already had been.
Finn now began to wonder what he was doing here. Why did he come and present himself to Mr. Schue? A while ago he held an intention but now it turned out to be meaningless mumbles. Nothing was going to get resolved, and no conclusion would be brought up, so they were just wasting time. "You don't understand."
Mr. Schue was struggling to convince him that he knew best and that he could help, but Finn doubted that. Finn made a dispute that nothing would turn this around, but to his aggravation, the man proceeded to slip past his defense and bring the problem out of innocence.
Finn ranted about his trouble. He laid down a record of flaws and matters that Mr. Schue should have known but didn't and probably wouldn't be able to fathom. He prayed he would be heard, his words would be processed and accepted.
Finn found himself being granted one last choice. He was indecisive of what was next for him, even with Mr. Schue's constant propositions. His mind drove itself to a noxious stage. He was unsure what kind of impression he was giving himself. He slowly lost his path and broke from the pattern of reality, losing all senses.
Reflecting on the obsessive war he understood that he could either live or die. And here was Mr. Schue, working to distract him from the consideration of suicide, still trying so damn hard to hold him up.
Finn made Mr. Schue aware that he was not the same. He was at his dead end; he was no longer the active and bright and kind little child, but actually a weak and grim soul that had lost everything.
He demanded he be allowed to return home, and Mr. Schue could not stop him.
It was that moment Fnn knew that Mr. Schue was crushed. Where did Mr. Schue go wrong? He would lose a friend, a son. But Finn would not turn back, he instead headed home. Somewhere along in the bitterness, Mr. Schue had let him down.
Mr. Schue made his effort. He met Finn in the dark of night and managed to keep up, but somehow it was just not enough.
Mr. Schue should have known how to save a life.