Author's Note: Chapter Six, here we come! Thanks for the amazing response I have received for the previous instalment - it has been overwhelming. Like, amazing. Hearing what you have to say about the story, it makes me so happy, because really this is all I have at the moment. Thank you again. The song I have used in this chapter is 'Recover' by Natasha Bedingfield. This was a real turning point for me – the song felt like a friend to me because of the lyrics about pulling through. Yeah, I hope you like it! Fingers crossed you like the chapter as well!
The next morning was just as cold as the day before, and the chill shook through Rory's bones and into his cuts. He carried the envelope in his bag on his way to college. He hadn't decided yet whether he would give it to Sam personally, or whether he would just leave it in his bag for it to be found later. When he eventually met eyes with the blonde, he opted for the latter. He couldn't risk Sam opening the letter before he had been successful. He might try to stop him, not knowing how much better life would be with him dead. Sam's happiness was key. This, everything, was for him. He just hoped he was right and that Sam would realise that – he couldn't bear the thought of Sam hating him. Not now, not ever, even after he was dead. But that was just selfish, and he knew it. He would just live through the school day, and then, on his way back home, he would do it. It was only a quick one-minute deviation from his normal route to reach the train station, and from there, it would be all over. With just one jump, or step, all the pain, all the suffering would be over. He wouldn't have to hurt again. He wouldn't cause hurt ever again. It would just be another person that everyone used to know. A faded memory, and that's the way Rory liked it. Nobody would remember the problems he caused. Nobody would remember his horrible face. The knowledge that it could soon be all over made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt freer – like he was able to enjoy the last day of his life, with no regrets, knowing that all of his sins would be forgiven soon enough. And luckily, the school day flew by. His lessons were more interesting than they had ever been, and as Rory walked out of the main building, he looked over his shoulder. It would be the last time he would see the place, and he felt a certain responsibility to say goodbye. He wiped the one small tear that was falling down his cheek away, and he turned his back on the place. Never again.
The train station was practically empty. Hardly anybody ever used it at this time, which had shocked Rory. He had expected it to be busy with all of the students making their way back home, but apparently only one or two lived far enough away to make the train a reasonable option. Rory checked out the timetable. Only another four minutes until the train came. All he'd have to do is to simply step out when he saw it coming, and within seconds it would all be over. He could do this. He steeled his thoughts, and began saying his prayers. He shrugged his bag off his shoulders and stepped right onto the edge of the platform, looking out for the train. Nobody had taken any notice of him. His plan was working.
Blaine ran up the steps to the platform. Finn had held him up at his locker, and before he knew it, five minutes had passed and he realised that unless he ran, he was going to miss his train. He was the only member of the New Directions to make use of the public transport – kind of ironic considering he was the one who had attended private school for such a long time. And now here he was, gunning up towards the platform, hoping he hadn't missed the train. He arrived, and just in time – with just one and a half minutes until the train came, he had been cutting it fine. There was something off today though - something that wasn't quite right. There was a boy standing right near the edge of the platform – a boy that shouldn't have been there. Rory Flannagan. This wasn't his route home. Why was he here? Why was he so close to the edge? Where was his bag? Blaine looked around the platform. There it was, next to the timetable. Just lying there in a heap. Rory was normally so neat – this wasn't like him at all. What was going on? Blaine walked closer to the boy, and when he did it suddenly all clicked into place. He could see the oncoming train now, and all the pieces just fit. The bag, how close he was to falling off. Shit. He had to do something., and so he did the only thing he could think of – shout.
Rory was snapped out of his daze by a loud noise, he looked around and saw the train coming. That must have been the cause. He took another step forward towards the edge, and as he did, he heard the noise again. It sounded like his name. The noise repeated, and this time, it was accompanied by a body being flung into him, knocking him to the platform ground. Rory looked up, just in time to see the train pull in past him. He had missed his chance. Who had fucked this up for him? Why had they done it? Didn't they understand? He felt the tears falling from his eyes. He had needed to do it. There was no other way. He felt the weight being lifted off him, and a hand grabbed him and pulled him backwards. Finally, Rory was face to face with the person who had ultimately saved his life. Blaine Anderson. He felt the boy's arms wrap around him, and as Rory began to cry uncontrollably, he felt himself being moved by the shorter man.
The next thing he knew, he was being bundled into a house, before being led upstairs and sat down on a bed. Finally, he could bring himself to stop crying. He just sat and trembled while Blaine held him and patted his back. He should be dead now. He should be dead. He couldn't get the thoughts out of his head. He would be dead, if it wasn't for Blaine. He would be dead. He should be dead. His thoughts were cycling through those thoughts, and all the time, Blaine held him. He held him until he stopped shaking, and his breathing returned to normal. When he finally let go, he looked into Rory's eyes, and said, "You're staying here tonight. No discussion". Rory just nodded. He assumed Blaine would figure out a way to let his family know where he was. He didn't want to be alone. Not right now. "Rory, we need to talk, and seriously. What's going on? Why did you almost kill yourself?" The Irish boy looked up into his friend's eyes, and when he did, he saw the utmost sympathy there, buried deep inside. And so, he told Blaine his story, he went on and on and on into the early hours of the morning. Blaine just sat, and listened. Every now and again, he would nod to prove he was listening, but most of the time, he just sat, looked and listened. Rory was pouring his life out onto a plate for him, and although the story saddened him to his core, he knew that he had to listen to the whole thing, he had to help his friend. When Rory told him he was gay, Blaine blinked briefly, slightly taken aback, before gesturing for the boy to continue with the story. His heart was breaking with every word that came out of his friend's mouth, but still, he listened, and once the boy was finished, he held him again, and they fell into a light sleep. Every now and again, Blaine would wake up when he felt Rory's body trembling, but he never let go, he would just hold on tighter.
When sunlight flitted through the curtains, Blaine and Rory's eyes flew open. They looked at each other, and when they left the house for school, a comfortable silence surrounded them. Blaine was going to take Rory to see Mrs. Pillsbury after Glee. He needed to talk to someone, but whether he actually did was up to Rory himself. He wasn't going to force him to speak if he didn't want to. Instead, he had another plan as well. When everybody met in the choir room, Blaine stood up, and took centre stage, before announcing what he was going to sing to the group. The music started, and Blaine took a breath, looking over at Rory.
Been torn apart,
Got so many scratches and scars,
Maybe they wont all go away,
But they'll fade,
Maybe time can mend us together... again.
It's not what we've done, but how far we've come.
Rory sat in his room that night. He had not been to see Emma, he knew that she would just tell his family – not out of spite, but because she by law had to – and this wasn't something he wanted to share. Blaine had done a brilliant performance earlier on in the day, and it had shown that Rory had someone to fall back on when things got too much. He was grateful now for what Blaine had done. He wouldn't be here without him, he literally owed him his life.
We will recover
The worst is over, now.
All those fires we've been walking through,
And still we survive, somehow.
We will recover
The worst is behind
And it hurts, but in time, I know that we will recover.
Rory sat there, thinking about Sam, and all he had been through. That boy had fucked around with his feelings so much, led him to the brink of suicide, and for the first time in a long time, Rory began to notice that his friend wasn't perfect. He had toyed with his heart, and he knew what he was doing. He knew how fragile Rory was at the time.
Got so much to lose,
Seems I've lost my power to choose, oh
What to love and when to let go,
That all changed,
Get bitten once and then your afraid
What a waste,
Look what we've done,
How far we've come…
Rory was fuming. How could Sam do that to him? How could he just play around with people like they were just little pieces in some game? The blowjobs, the handjobs, the ideas of getting together, it had all just added up to create this horrible mess – a mess that had hurt Rory so much. Blaine had looked disgusted when he had told him about Sam and the way he had behaved.
We will recover,
The worst is over, now.
All those fires we've been walking through,
And still we survive, somehow.
We will recover,
The worst is behind,
And it hurts, but in time, I know that we will recover.
Everybody's gotta, a reason to cry,
And everybody fights but, not everyone survives
And everybody's searching, not everybody finds
And I'm still in recovery, and I'll make it alive.
While Blaine sang, Rory listened intently. He hung off of every word like it was gold dust – each one making him a little bit better than before. He still had a long way to go, but he knew what he needed to do now. Tomorrow, he needed to do something, and it killed him, because he knew that Sam wasn't going to like it.
We will recover,
The worst is over, now.
All those fires we've been walking through
And still we survive, somehow.
Basically, the events in this chapter are pretty real. Except that in my life, I wasn't jumped on, but somebody led me quietly away from the edge. They just took my hand, and showed me the way. I love them forever.