PLEASE READ FIRST
Author's Note: I have just recently finished watching 13RW, about a week ago. I'm a little late, I know. I'm so glad my best friend recommended it, as I needed to see it to help me with my own struggles. I cannot put to words how much the show blew me away, in terms of emotional depth and the portrayals of the characters shown on screen. Nothing has ever impacted me in a way that this show has, and I'm usually a pretty tough person. But this devastated me yet left me wide open to watching more. I am now hooked on the show and I wanted so much more when that last scene faded to black. Seeing as Season Two is now filming and should be out early next year, I figured I wanted to write something to satisfy my need for the story to continue.
With recent developments unfolding regarding Season Two, it is now known that the second season will take place a few months after Season One ended, so my story will not be accurate whatsoever, but rather a fan's version of what COULD have happened, or maybe an explanation of events leading up to the actual Season Two?
This is my first time publishing any form of fiction online, let alone fan fiction. I was just so amazed with all the hard work, dedication and talent put into 13RW that I had to continue what was started to satisfy my own cravings for more story. The message of the show is very deep and emotionally impactful, and if you or anyone you know needs help, please don't be afraid to reach out to someone. I promise that there's someone out there that can and will help you in your time of need. I'm one of them.
Final note: Some of you may not like this portrayal of Season Two, but I'm letting my creativity and desire for more story flow to the keyboard and I'm excited to see where it takes me. The episode format will stay the same, 13 "episodes" divided into 2-3 parts each to give me time to write it all. I'll probably keep the naming scheme of "Tape 7, Side B" for example, just for honoring the show. Whether or not I retain the narration heard in the first season is still a decision I've yet to make. I'm really aiming to focus on a few different storylines, like Tony's backstory, Courtney's struggle with herself, Tyler's decisions, Zach and Alex's redemptions, Justin's disappearance and falling out with Bryce, the Bakers dealing with the tapes, Clay's closure with Hannah, and the lawsuit that looms over them all. I also hope to flesh out some other characters and give them more backstory and characterization, such as Jeff (through flashbacks, #JeffDeservedBetter), Montgomery, Clay's parents, Hannah's parents, and Brad.
Yes I know, it sounds like a huge story. I hope that it can be.
Juggling this diverse cast of over 20 characters and multiple narratives interweaving throughout two timelines as well as interacting with each other is going to be a challenge that I'm willing to take on. So here goes, I hope you all like the story I have to tell!
Season 2
Tape 7, Side B - Part One
"Go get her."
"Go get her and do what?"
"It's a dance… just dance with her."
"I can't. Y-you know I can't dance."
"Tonight, you can. I promise." Jeff patted him on the back. "Come on, you've got this." He urged.
Clay Jensen finally obliged, standing up from his seat on the bleachers. He stepped down to the floor, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She looked beautiful from across the gymnasium. Jeff smiled as he watched his friend descend towards the girl he loved.
Hannah Baker followed suit. Moving down the bleachers, a soft smile growing on her lips eagerly. Upon reaching the floor, she started towards him. He did the same.
They met halfway.
"This song… it's perfect." Hannah said to him, smiling.
"Yeah. So I guess we should-…" He motioned to dance.
He placed his hands on her waist, eyeing the other couples around the room. He decided to keep it modest. She seemed to approve with her eyes as they grew closer.
Swaying back and forth to the beauty of the tune, Hannah complimented his rhythm.
"You are full of little surprises."
"Stick with me kid." Clay replied, smiling. She gave him a grin of her own, lighting up Clay's world like nothing ever had before. It was then that he knew. She was the only one for him. She was perfect.
At that very moment, he discovered the courage he never thought he had. Clay began to lean forward slowly towards her, and Hannah returned the advance.
Finally, their lips met.
"Clay."
Clay opened his eyes.
"Clay!"
Tony Padilla's Mustang was parked. Clay looked over to his friend in the driver's seat, who looked somewhat worried.
"You still with us, Clay?" Tony asked him.
"Oh, uh-… yeah. Yeah I'm here." Clay said. He turned quickly to the backseat. Skye was no longer there, having been dropped off earlier at Monet's for work. Only Brad remained with them.
"This is the place right?" Tony started. "The place you told me to take you?"
Clay looked up from his feet and out the passenger window. His favorite park was surrounding them, trees shooting up nearly a hundred feet into the sky. The clouds were parting from earlier in the day and a slowly setting sun was casting its golden hour rays across the city.
"Yeah. Yeah this is it." Clay replied. He grabbed his backpack from the floor of the passenger side and opened the door.
Tony grabbed his arm quickly. Clay paused, turning to face his friend.
"You okay, Clay?" Tony asked slowly, a tone of worry was interspersed in his usually solemn voice of reason.
Clay nodded again. "Yeah."
Tony let go of his arm, allowing Brad to climb up to the front seat.
"Thanks Tony." Clay said, before turning to walk into the park.
"Your welcome. Don't forget about my Walkman!" Tony called out after him, a faint smile across his face. Clay had asked to borrow it once again.
Tony's Mustang began to pull out of the parking lot as Clay moved further into the park.
"What's wrong with him?" Brad asked.
Tony sighed, turning the wheel to accelerate out of the park. "He was in love with Hannah Baker."
"Didn't she-…"
"Yeah, she did." Tony replied, fighting back the tears that threatened his eyes.
Brad gazed out of the window, his eyes fixated on Clay's silhouette as it disappeared into the trees.
The car sped off briskly down the road and out of the park.
Approaching his favorite spot, Clay dropped his backpack at the edge of the bench, and sat down. The sun began its gorgeous descent towards the horizon as the light illuminated through the twin bridges in the near distance. Clay took in his surroundings, inhaling and exhaling deeply as he attempted to relieve some of his stress.
He pulled the Walkman out of his hoodie pocket, and plugged in his headphones. Putting the headphones on, he leaned over and opened his backpack, dug through it, and pulled out a tape.
He put the tape into the Walkman and pressed the play button firmly, having become well accustomed to doing that at this point.
I am not the only traveler
Who has not repaid his debt
At that moment, Clay closed his eyes, leaned back, and took a deep breath.
I've been searching for a trail to follow again
Somewhere across town, Justin Foley sat in the corner of a near-empty diner. His phone screen displaying photos of him and a girl, Jessica Davis. He scrolled through each one determinedly. His eyes near tears. He soon switched apps, moving through each one of his social media accounts, opting to delete them.
Take me back to the night we met
Elsewhere, Jessica Davis sobbed into the protective embrace of her father, as her story to him was finally finished, finally over. He held her solemnly, kissing her on her head, rocking her back and forth. His hand rubbed her back gingerly, as he was eager to do whatever it took to protect and bring justice to those who wronged his baby girl. For a moment, tears could be seen in his own eyes, before he closed them and ached for his daughter's pain.
And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
In the middle of Mercy Hospital's ICU, the body of Alex Standall lay motionless on an operating table. Surrounded by three neurosurgeons and a trauma surgeon, they operated carefully on his head, passing instruments to each other and nodding to directions given. Nurses surrounded them, as bright white lights shone down onto Alex's body.
And then I can tell myself
Two objects lay on Tyler Down's bed. A pistol and a camera. The owner of both stood over them, musing, arms folded across his chest. A call for him rang out from the kitchen for dinner. The voice snapped the boy out of his thoughts, and he hastily removed the gun from his bed, placing it back into his locked chest, before hurrying out of the room, leaving the camera alone on his bed.
Not to ride along with you
The two continued to dance on in the middle of the gymnasium, reliving their first kiss over and over in their heads as they smiled to each other. Hannah rested her head on Clay's shoulder as they waltzed slowly, back and forth, to the sound of Tony's choice of song. The images flashed through Clay's mind, continuing from before.
What could have been.
"And for the first time in a long time, I could imagine a future where I was happy."
Her voice echoed through the cerebral pathways of Clay's mind, tugging at his very spirit.
I had all and then most of you
Some and then none of you
At that moment, Hannah began to disappear. Clay watched her body dissolve from the air, dissolve into nothingness. He stepped back slowly, in visible distress.
"Hannah…?"
Take me back to the night we met
Everyone else in the gymnasium began to disappear as well. Clay appeared visibly taken aback, lost almost. He quickly turned up to the bleachers to see Jeff, sitting alone and staring at him.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
"Go get her." Jeff said to Clay, smiling fervently. He then disappeared himself, dissolving into the nothingness that claimed Hannah, and the rest of the people surrounding Clay.
Clay looked around, and saw not a single soul remaining in the gymnasium. The song continued however, as he fell to his knees and broke down into tears.
Oh, take me back to the night we met
Courtney Crimsen sat on the edge of her bed, staring at a photo on her phone. The photo of her and Hannah Baker. Her hands began to shake, which soon escalated into an almost full-body convulsion. She screamed and threw her phone across the room, watching it smash into a mirror, as one of her father's quickly entered the room and appeared worried.
When the night was full of terrors
Marcus Cole emerged from the back door of Liberty High School, his fingers dialing a number on his phone. Placing the device to his ear, he begins ranting to someone on the other end. His face contorted with anger suddenly, and a car pulls up to the curb. Marcus pauses from the phone call and leaned into the open window to confront the driver. Within seconds, he got in and the car drove off.
Moving through the streets of the city, Marcus and his driver pass by a familiar location. Rosie's Diner. Images of Hannah Baker sitting in front of him with an empty milkshake flash through his mind, but he pushes them away and makes small talk with the driver.
And your eyes were filled with tears
When you had not touched me yet
Zach Dempsey sat in his now-repaired Audi, with the engine off. His deposition was over, and he had opted to drive somewhere more personal. The Liberty High parking lot was empty as the sun finally dropped below the horizon. In his hands was a folded piece of paper, and in the final rays of light, he opened it slowly and began to read, as each line from Hannah's letter struck him like a freight train. The tears fell from his eyes onto the paper below, joining many other tearstains that had dotted the letter, scars from the last few days.
He decided to practice his basketball in the open gym for a while, to clear his mind. Getting out of his car, he noticed Alex had still not texted him back yet.
Oh, take me back to the night we met
Finishing up at his weekly poetry gathering, Ryan Shaver sat alone on the steps of the library. His computer was on his lap, and an old copy of his 'Lost and Found' magazine was displayed on screen, from the previous school year. More specifically, a page from near the beginning had caught his attention, a poem by an old friend. Reading over the poem a final time, Ryan highlighted it in the editor program and without hesitation, his finger pressed the delete button. Looking up from the screen, he watched as the sun disappeared below the horizon and the city's streets grew dark. He sighed, closing his computer and heading down the steps towards the sidewalk below.
I had all and then most of you
Some and then none of you
Justin Foley laid his phone down onto the table, turning the power off and leaning back in exasperation. His eyes were red and raw, and his hair an unkempt mess. He heard a vehicle braking outside the diner and leaned back forward, noticing two people stepping onto a newly arrived bus. He hurriedly put his phone into his jacket pocket and grabbed his backpack, leaving two dollar bills on the diner's front counter for his drink and hustling out the door to the small bus station, as night crept over the parking lot.
Take me back to the night we met
Sheri Holland sat in the backseat of a police car as it traveled its way through the streets of the city. With each passing street light, Sheri's soft facial features were illuminated, gazing out the window towards those walking by and brightly lit storefronts. Upon passing Baker's Drug Store, Sheri looked down at her hands nestled on her lap, taking a deep breath. Despite being in the back of a police car, for the first time in a long time, she actually felt free.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Bryce Walker stood on the balcony overlooking his pool. A few stars began to appear in the sky above, glistening in the twilight. In his left hand was a glass of scotch, while his right hand gripped the balcony railing, knuckles still bruised from the night before. He stared down towards his hot tub, without saying a word. His mind racing with possible scenarios for what may come his way. He blinked once before taking a drink.
Take me back to the night we met
At an early evening meeting with the other school administrators, Kevin Porter sat in silence as his colleagues discussed options surrounding the lawsuit against the school, and Alex Standall's recent actions. Porter looked down to the table, as his mind drifted off elsewhere.
"She died alone." Clay's voice echoed through Porter's mind.
A buzz came from his phone, he briefly looked down to check it.
Where are you Kevin? I'm getting tired of this. We need to talk when you get home.
Mr. Porter sighed, putting his phone away as Principal Gary Bolan called his name from across the table, looking for his opinion on something.
But Porter knew what he had to do.
Clay Jensen remained on the hilltop bench as the sun had long set. The stars above twinkled in the absence of the massive celestial body. The song had ended its fourth repeat on Tony's Walkman, and because of that, he hadn't heard footsteps approaching from behind him. Removing his headphones, he placed them into his backpack and sent a text to Tony to ask for a pickup and ride home. He then leaned back once more and gazed up at the thousands of stars above.
"A submental missile entry was the method upon which your son attempted suicide, Mr. Standall." The surgeon explained to the distraught man before him.
"S-submental?" The man stammered in reply, his uniform covered in blood.
"Under the chin." The doctor stated firmly.
"O-oh yes. Right… that's how it was when I found him." Alex Standall's father was clearly fighting back against an emotional rollercoaster, but the battle was one he was losing quickly.
"We removed the bone flap and are allowing his brain to swell so it can heal. We've heavily sedated him at the moment, but he's stable. We're keeping him in critical care overnight and we may have to perform another surgery in the morning. The bullet was removed with care, but he will sustain heavy facial disfigurations and perhaps even certain cognitive or memory functions could be impaired permanently."
At that moment, they noticed a woman approaching slowly from an adjacent hallway. She was clad in dark blue scrubs and had a distraught face of sorrow, tears running down her cheeks. Standall immediately recognized the woman.
It was his wife.
He briefly departed the surgeon's presence, meeting his wife in front of the ICU doors. They embraced fiercely, her quiet tears becoming sobs once again. Moments passed, their hug finally ended as she tried wiping her eyes, but to no avail. They reddened further as she followed her husband to the surgeon.
"So it's… it's all okay? He's okay?" The father of the boy asked the man.
"Yes. We believe we have removed all of the bullet fragments. It partially shattered upon impact with his skull, but we have no inclination to believe that any fragments remain. We will be running a thorough scan in a half hour to detect for any lingering or microscopic pieces."
"When can we see him?" His mother said quietly, her face morphing into one filled with grief. She took a moment to try and compose herself again, turning away as the doctor replied.
"Not yet. He just came out of an intensive and quite long surgery. Within the coming days we will notify you when it is okay to visit him. There's not really much you can do right now but wait. I'm sorry. A hospital-affiliated psychologist will call you in the morning to ask you about Alex." He smiled faintly to them, placing a hand on the father's shoulder before turning to walk back towards the ICU.
She spoke first.
"How… did this happen?"
"I don't know."
"Where was he?"
"His bedroom."
"You were where?"
"About to leave, my shift started in three minutes." He almost began to choke up, his hand covered over his mouth as he attempted to right his emotional state.
She had not seen him like this in years.
"Our son."
"Our son." He replied slowly.
"Do you think this had any-anything… to do with… the Baker girl?" She managed to get her point across without descending back into fits of tears.
"I don't know."
"David."
"What?" He turned to look at her for the first time in what felt like hours.
"Do you think this could have anything to do with m-me…?"
"Why would it? No. Of course not."
"I'm never home anymore David."
"And you think I am?" He appeared flustered at this comment.
"I just feel like we couldn't see our son when he was struggling. We missed the signs."
"A lot of parents do."
"I never thought we would be in that group, though."
David sighed, shaking his head.
"I have to go." He said to her.
"Wh-what? Where are you going? Why? You can't just leave Alex…"
"I still have a job to do. We can't visit him right now. Call me as soon as you hear something. I need to go get cleaned up. How much longer are you here?"
"Six hours."
"Alright, let me know."
"David?"
"What?"
"You're sure you're okay?" Her face warmed a bit, attempting to seek her husband's true feelings on the matter. They didn't talk much these days, but it didn't stop her from trying.
"I'll be fine. Just let me know of any updates about Alex."
"Okay."
He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead before exiting through the sliding doors that led towards the main entrance. Her eyes didn't follow him, but lingered on the doors to the ICU. The tears formed once again, and she had to sit down before her emotions took over.
The sliding doors then opened again.
"Are you Mrs. Standall?" A male voice called out to her.
She didn't look up for a moment, wiping the tears away and preparing to face yet another human being. But she didn't have to do much movement, as he approached her.
The boy was tall, well-built and sporting a Henley shirt with dark denim jeans. He looked down at her as she sat, still wiping away what tears were left. The newcomer noticed another chair opposite of her, and moved to sit down.
"Yes. That would be me." She said softly.
"I'm one of Alex's friends," the boy said quickly. He sighed slowly before taking a deep breath. "I heard about what happened and thought maybe you could use some company while you waited to hear something."
"Thank you, and your name is?"
"Zach."
"Zach. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Zach. Not under the circumstances any mother would hope for, but a pleasure anyways." Her face remained somewhat grim and outwardly solemn.
"Is he out of surgery?" Zach Dempsey questioned.
She nodded.
"How is he?"
"We aren't sure. They're running another scan, but they think they've gotten all of the bullet frag-…" She couldn't even finish her sentence, her emotions draining her of all the energy she had left. The tears flowed and she began to sob for her son. Zach immediately sprang into action, moving over to her in an attempt to comfort the woman.
"It's okay… everything is gonna be okay. Alex is a tough kid, trust me on that one." Zach felt rather strange, like a warm feeling growing within him, he wasn't too used to comforting others, having only really done it once before, or attempted to.
"Wanna see a cool trick? Bryce Walker taught me."
Hannah Baker sat there in tears, her eyes barely focused on Zach, but enough to propel his decision to place a spoon on his nose. He failed, the spoon fell to the table loudly, causing her to flinch. But it was an attempt nonetheless.
The memory soon faded.
"I know he is…" She muttered.
"You're one hell of a mom for staying strong through this. Alex would be proud of you. I'm sure we don't have to wait too much longer," Zach soothed.
"Thank you, Zach." She fought through the tears to reply. "You're one hell of a friend for coming to see him." For the first time since she got the news, she managed to smile to the boy beside her. Knowing her son had friends as genuine as Zach made her feelings of grief disappear for a brief moment.
"I do what I can." Zach said, before feeling a buzz in his pocket. He quickly glanced down at his phone, which was withdrawn from his pocket.
Where are you?
Mercy.
Alex?
Yeah.
Is he awake?
No.
Good. So his deposition can be postponed.
Are you fucking kidding me Marcus? He shot himself, show some respect you prick.
You say that now, but when he's awake and talking, you'll wish he had succeeded.
Fuck you.
Zach appeared visibly taken aback by the messages he was reading. Not saying anything to Alex's mother, he continued to comfort her, putting his phone away with a barely audible sigh.
He knew he was doing the right thing, and it felt good, for once.
"Have a seat right there miss, we'll be right with you." The officer beckoned the girl before him into a waiting room seat. The police headquarters was abnormally busy that night, officers rushing about, some carrying paperwork, others rambling on the phone while scribbling down details.
Sheri Holland looked around quietly, her eyes darting between officers and the events unfolding before her.
What could possibly be going on?
"He shot himself."
"Do we have an officer on scene?"
"He was admitted to Mercy."
"Get me someone from the psych center on the phone?"
"What about Gary Bolan?"
"Fuck him, get me a psych! This might affect that ongoing lawsuit. Which is bigger than Bolan now, don't involve the school district yet."
"Officers Rainier and De Santa are reporting to the scene. Only one witness."
"Who?"
"Kid's brother."
"Bring him in if you have to."
"Is Standall still on duty?"
"He should be. Should we release him? His wife is at the hospital."
"Give me a minute."
"Officers Rainier and De Santa, if he's uncomfortable talking then hold tight. We're sending a psych out there now."
"All units be advised, we have a three car accident at the intersection of Tanglewood and Clearwater. Requesting EMS and Fire."
"Get me through to dispatch, request EMS and Fire to the intersection of Tanglewood and Clearwater. Get traffic rerouted and set up a perimeter."
"Got a house fire reported at 3206 Vallejo Blvd, requesting all available units."
"Damn, they just aren't stopping tonight are they?"
"Be advised Officers Rainier and De Santa, we have a psych en route to the Standall home now."
All of the hectic activity in the station made Sheri even more uncomfortable, almost to the point that she wasn't fully aware of what was being said throughout the offices and hallways surrounding her.
Until she heard the name Standall.
"Miss Holland." An officer called out to her.
"Yes?"
"Follow me please." The officer motioned for Sheri to follow, and she willfully obliged.
"I'm sorry Brad, but I gotta go."
"Tony."
"I'm sorry."
"We talked about this. Your abrupt leavings?"
"Clay needs me."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I do."
"What if I need you too, Tony?"
Tony Padilla stood there in silence.
"Would you know that?"
"I don't know, Brad."
They were standing outside of Brad's home, beside Tony's Mustang, which was parked along the curb. The crisp evening air of mid-Autumn surrounding them as a few leaves fell from the trees above. The stars were out in full, casting their light down on the Earth below.
"You need to figure it out soon. I'm your boyfriend, in case you forgot. I would appreciate some actual time alone with you for once."
"You'll get it, Brad."
"When?"
"Soon. I promise."
"I hope Clay knows that."
"Clay is going through some tough shit, okay? He's my friend and he needs someone there right now."
"Yeah."
Tony sighed, covering his face with his hand in exasperation.
"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"I guess you will, Tony." Brad replied, turning to head back inside.
Tony shook his head and got into his car, already suspecting Clay's current situation. Putting his Mustang in gear, he sped off down the road towards the park, not paying much attention to passing ambulances and fire engines on the cross streets he encountered.
The radio stayed quiet as he rolled his window down, looking for some fresh air to fill the car's tense atmosphere. Nearing the park's entrance, he saw that it had been gated up for the night.
"Shit." He said, pulling over to the side of the street and putting the car in park. Getting out, he walked up to the gate and climbed over, knowing that Clay was still in the park somewhere. Meandering towards the main path, he illuminated the darkness in front of him with his phone's light.
He didn't have to walk for long, before figuring out where Clay was. Towards the end of the main path through the park, he spotted a bench on a hilltop, overlooking the twin bridges in the distance. He could barely make out the figure of Clay sitting on the bench in the darkness, but he noticed another figure as well, standing in front of Clay.
Getting closer, the figure became more prominent to him.
Within seconds he was close enough to see who it was.
Then, Tony Padilla stopped dead in his tracks.
It was her.
That's a wrap for Part One! I hope you all liked it! Leave feedback on what you thought, I'd love to hear from all of you! Thank you so much for reading!