A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! Appreciate them muchly =) Glee finale? Those Glee producers proved, yet again, that they are brilliant beyond a level we, mere mortals, could ever hope to mantain. Just to be clear- Jesse is in VA, Quinn is still pregnant, Emma/Will aren't together and neither are Fin/Rachel in this story.

Chapter 2

The next day was hard for all of them. Principal Figgins came on the loud speaker during first period and delivered the news, saying only that she had been killed in a car accident, that this was a perfect example of the dangers of drunk driving, and that counserlors were waiting in the media center if anyone couldn't stay in class. It was clear very few people even knew who she was, and even fewer were upset- her only friends were in Glee. And of course, they were all devasted and no one could figure out why.

Brittany started crying (Santana had finally explained it to her) and her teacher made her leave the room, even though she didn't know where the media center was. So she wandered the halls, make up streaking her face, until a tentative voice called out behind her.

"Britt?" Mike called. She turned around and gave him a small smile. "Are you lost?" he asked. She nodded. "Come on, then. I'll take you to Santana."

"Are you sad too?" Brittany asked, walking with him. He nodded, staring down at his untied sneakers, but didn't speak. "Did you like her?"

He looked up in surprise, shocked that the spacy girl would have noticed. But the 'like' was said without emphasis. It was an innocent question, so he simply nodded.

"Brittany?" Santana called from down the hall. "Ohmygod, I've been looking all over for you!" She raced down the hall, wrapped her arms around her friend. Mike stepped awkwardly away. It was only very close up that you could tell that the exotic cheerleader had been crying.

"Santana?" Brittany asked, stepping back. "Can we go somewhere that's not here?" Santana leaned in, laughing sadly, and brushed the golden hair off of her face. She held out her pinky. Linking them, the two strode off down the hall way, not casting Mike a single backwards glance. He didn't move for the next quarter hour, a boulder in the river of kids flowing around him as the bell rang.


Artie could barely stand it when Figgins came over the loud speaker, speaking so calmly. He could barely stand it when his teacher lectured them on the dangers of drunk driving. He could barely stand it when the boy next to him asked his friend who she was. But it was when the friend responded "the creepy goth chick" that he snapped.

"Shut up!" he exclaimed. "You don't know anything about her! None of you do!"

Eyes burning, feeling sick to his stomach, he spun and wheeled himself out of the room. Blindly he headed to the media center, no idea of where else to go. When he got there, the only other ones there were Quinn, off in the corner, and Kurt, head down on a desk. He glanced around uncomfortably and immediately saw a genuinely upset Emma. He started over to her, but one of the state-hired counselors jumped on him far too eagerly.

"Are you here because of Tina Cohen-Chang?" the man asked, pronouncing her last name wrong. Artie winced at hearing it spoken aloud but nodded, resigning himself to a god-awful feelings talk. "And how did you know her?"

"Glee Club," he muttered, his voice hoarse and sullen even to his own ears. "We were friends." He didn't know why he didn't want to tell the man she was his girlfriend, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. The past tense was killing him.

"I'm very sorry," the man said sympathetically, his bright eyes gleaming in his round face. "It must be very hard for you."

He shrugged, wishing he could escape.

"I mean, you're already disabled, and now to lose a friend… care to tell me how you're feeling?" Thankfully Quinn had noticed him and strode over.

"Thank you, doctor," she said smoothly, taking his handles. "If you don't mind."

Artie nodded up at her once they were out of his sight, over in the corner by the window, unable to bring himself to thank her. She smiled and settled back into her seat, continuing with her book.


Rachel glanced around, wondering if she was in the right place. But just then Matt jumped out of a nearby car. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed over to him, glancing around curiously. Tina's parents had chosen to hold the service at a large covered gazebo down by the only real river anywhere near Lima. Late at night you couldn't even see the water, only hear it.

"You came," Rachel said simply.

"Yeah," Matt said. It was becoming his catchphrase. "You did too."

"Do you think Artie can get down there?" asked Rachel anxiously, peering down at the thick mud pulling at her shoes.

"Do you think he's coming?" Matt retorted.

Rachel looked startled. "Of course he is," she said. "He was closer to her than anyone."

"That doesn't mean he's coming."

"Hey, guys," Finn spoke, coming up behind them. Rachel turned around to face him, eyes wide and sparkling with tears. Neither of them noticed as Matt disappeared down to the Gazebo.

"It seems like I haven't stopped crying yet," Rachel said, attempting a smile. He stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest, fighting back sobs, as he soothingly rubbed his hand over her shoulders. Taking a deep, shaking breath, he bent his head down, burying it in her hair. They remained motionless for a moment until a new voice interrupted them.

"Uh… little help?" Artie asked, trying to force his wheel chair through the unyielding mud.

"Of course, dude," Finn said, leaping to his aid, practically having to lift the chair as he forced it forwards. "How are you doing?"

"Why is everyone asking me that?" Artie said, sounding more weary than accusing. Rachel kept pace besides them. "It's not about me."

"I think it's gonna be about you if you go all suicidal on us," Finn joked, but it fell flat. Rachel let out a little squeak of horror and Artie didn't respond.

They all breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the wooden gazebo and Artie grabbed at the wheels, rolling away without a word. Kurt and Mercedes were over on the bench overlooking the river, Kurt leaning his head on her shoulder, her arm around his waist. Quinn, appearing right behind Rachel, made her way over to them and they made room for her on the bench.

Matt was standing next to Mike, the Asian boy's head bent, hiding his face. Santana and Brittany were lost in the shadows, locked in an embrace, and Artie had wheeled over to the small pile of pictures and other precious things of hers. A small group of adults- her parents and their friends, Finn guessed- were standing in a huddle in the corner farthest from the water, speaking softly. Miss. Pillsbury stood awkwardly off to the side. Nearly everyone was here.

"Sorry I'm late," Mr. Schue said softly. Upon seeing him, Emma gave a small smile of relief and rushed over to him, speaking softly and quickly. He nodded seriously, murmuring a reply. Just then, however, another person appeared behind him.

"Sue," Schuester hissed. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I'm a teacher, William," Sue said. "And though you may think I don't care about anything but winning, you're wrong. I know ever student at this school."

"Really?" Will demanded. "What do you really know about her? What gives you the right to be here?"

"I have as much a right to be here as you do," she said, her voice dangerous. "What gives you the right to decide who gets to grieve?"

"I'm sorry," he said reluctantly, backing down. "I was out of line. Come join the party."

"Excuse me," said a small man at the front. Several of the kids recognized him as Tina's father, and the others were able to guess. "Thank you all for coming. It means so much to see you all here…" He broke off, wiping at his face with a handkerchief. "If you would like, you can light a candle and send it down the river."

He and the other adults made their way down to the muddy bank. Slowly the kids followed.

"Mr. Schue?" Artie asked tentatively as the teacher started down the hill. "Do you think you could help me?"

"Of course," he answered gently. Just then, another face appeared in the open gate. Puck.

"What did I miss?" he asked gruffly.

"Not much," Mr. Schuester said knowingly. "Come help me." Puck lifted one end of the wheelchair, Mr. Schue the other, and together, they made their way down to the river.

A/N: Actually, I lied. Another depressing chapter is up next, THEN the fun begins. Promise. Please review! Pretty pretty please with sprinkles on top!