Author's Note: The following story is based on an idea proposed by .com. Please give her the credit for this idea. I just couldn't help but play with it. Just to clarify, Noah is a character that could have been played by Damian McGinty (before the Rory character came into existence). Thus, this story is AU, starting just before Pot O'Gold.

Noah McAllister looked around. All he could see were people bustling around him, families rushing to and fro, business men talking rapidly on their smartphones, and TSA employees going around with various devices. It was a bit overwhelming to a numb person. Well, emotionally numb. As he usually did, Noah just started to walk forward, not even registering what his eyes were seeing.

Suddenly, he heard someone shout his name. "Noah!" He turned to see his Aunt Shannon yelling at him, holding a sign saying "McAllister". He slowly made his way over there, knowing that his aunt would joke about his slower pace. She was trying, at least, to be a little upbeat.

"Noah, you're a little slower than the last time I saw you. Track coach won't like that," she said as she lowered the sign since he had found her.

Noah shrugged; that was his usual response nowadays. Talking didn't seem important, like running or guitar. Ever since he got the call, life just wasn't his concern anymore. "Come on buddy, let's head outta here."

Noah nodded as his aunt led him out of the airport, and into her big green truck. She was truly a Texas girl through and through. It had always brought a smile to his face before, especially considering that this was his mother's sister. His mother who had married the upper-class Irish diplomat. But that was too painful to think about now.

As he got in, Aunt Shannon moved around her various football papers, so that Noah could get a full seat. She usually didn't have people in her truck with her.

"Sorry about the mess. Not used to having passengers, are we Bessie?"

It had always amused Noah that his aunt called her truck Bessie. She had named the truck Bessie, claiming that she was a big working girl like her. When his aunt told him that things respond better when you treat them like people, and that meant giving them a name, he had named his first bike Mickey Mouse (his favorite cartoon at the time). The memory helped to lift the dark expression on his face, something he didn't realize that his aunt had noticed.

"Well, there ya go, Noah," his aunt said. "Hopefully that's enough room, just put your bags in the bed, they shouldn't fly out."

Noah didn't care whether or not his bags made it or not. All that was in there was clothes, which were easily replaceable. All of his stuff was being shipped over by the embassy, and his most prized possession was in his pocket. That way, nobody could take it from him.

They drove the two hours it took to get to Lima, from the airport. Noah had just stared out the window at the gray sky, unfazed by his aunt's country music station. He knew that she was a big country music fan, and that she loved old "honky-tonk" country. Sometimes, it would make him smile and ask if that's what all Americans sound like. But, Aunt Shannon didn't even try to attempt small talk. She could tell that it wasn't going to go anywhere, she wasn't stupid. She wouldn't even know what to say now, she had nothing in common with this silent boy anymore.

When they got to their destination, the clouds had gotten darker, and rain seemed imminent. It matched Noah's mood towards life at the moment, only helping to further his feelings.

Once Noah got inside though, he almost considered laughing. His aunt's house, though small and cozy, had just enough cowprint cowboy stuff to make it a cow's worst nightmare.

"Not used to sharing it, but hopefully it will do. Just make yourself at home, buddy."

The trouble was, Noah didn't know what home really felt like. He had moved more times than he could count, the longest being four years in Ireland. It was hard to feel at home when he didn't have the necessary ingredients.

Aunt Shannon started to take Noah on a tour of the small ranch house. The kitchen was just big enough for the two of them, and the living room was the only room that felt like it hold more than two people, not like any such number was over there. When Aunt Shannon showed him his bedroom, his mouth twitched into the small sign of a smile. She had kept it the exact same since he was there last, even Mickey Mouse (the bike) was still in the corner.

"I get that it's a little old, but maybe we can fix it up. Just tell me what you want to do, and hopefully we can make it work."

He nodded, maybe he would change some stuff, the Mickey Mouse bedsheets for example, but some stuff he wouldn't change. He didn't want to forget everything.

THE NEXT DAY

High schools were the same no matter on what part of the globe you are on. You have the popular kids (jocks, cheerleaders, rich kids, etc.), the "artsy" kids (theatre, band, choir), the nerds (kids who spent too much time programming study hints on their calculators and reading Superman comics), the potheads (the kids that were destined for a short, uneventful life), and the nobodies. Noah was used to being a nobody. He never stayed in one place too long to become a "somebody". He would just get good grades, find a track team to run on, maybe help out the choir kids by being their accompanist on the guitar, but he would only make a few friends. Never close, that way it didn't hurt too much when he moved to another part of the globe.

So, Noah wasn't expecting anything much when he set out for his first day of school at WMHS. He went into the front office, populated by old ladies that should of retired when WWII broke out.

"So, are you new to us at William McKinely?" asked the oldest. She was somewhere in-between her 90's and her 100's, and smelled of mothballs, bad meatloaf, and rancid cat food.

Noah wanted to say "Well, duh. Why else would I be over here, requesting my new schedule and school map?", but knowing the implications in a small school, he just said, "Yes."

"Well, isn't that nice? Here's your new schedule and school map. I don't know if they have football in your country, but you should consider trying out. The new Coach is always willing to take on new players."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll think about it."

The truth was, Noah had no intention of playing "American football". He didn't understand why grown men would want to tackle each other for a misshapen ball. He actually didn't have any intention of playing any sport or joining any clubs. He just wanted to get through high school. It was a big enough challenge without all the added drama. His life couldn't take anymore drama.

His first day was uneventful. He would go to class, sit down, listen, go to his locker, and then repeat the cycle seven more times. His aunt smiled at him during P.E., which made all the jocks turn to look at him, as if they were eying the fresh meat on the team. It took him twenty minutes to explain to them, that he had no intention of trying out for the football team and that he knew what it was, even if he didn't "speak American". They had continued to glare at him as he left the locker room.

Instead of taking the bus home, he had decided to wait for his Aunt Shannon to give him a ride home. He didn't know the area well enough to ride the bus anyway. He just sat on the bleachers over the field, doing his Spanish homework that his teacher had eagerly assigned seventh period. It wasn't hard,

"Get your butts off my field and shower up. You're going to need it if you want to beat Lakefield tomorrow!"

Noah quickly packed up his finished homework, and started to head to the parking lot to meet up with his aunt. She wouldn't take too long. All she had to do was quickly pack up her small bag and head back to Bessie.

"Hey, Ireland." It was the big jock that had "asked" him earlier about his intentions concerning the football team.

Noah turned around, knowing that it was best to just quietly go along with whatever the bully had in mind.

"We just wanted to welcome you to William McKinely High," called out the newly emerged football team.

Unless they had a beat-down planned.

AN: Hopefully you enjoyed this piece. I sort of have a plot mapped out. Stay tuned for updates and please review! ~ Nika