Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Left Behind.

Note: Oh my goodness, you guys are too good to me! I've broken 50 reviews—in fact, as of right now, I have an amazing 60-with just six chapters, which is HUGE for me. Thank you so much, dearest readers and reviewers. I know many of you are dying to know who the leader is and all that good stuff, but patience, my dears. All will be explained in due time. And now, Mike…

Side Note: If you're at all familiar with Spring Awakening, you'll get the reference behind the song and the significance of the gunshot method.


Case File

Pact Member: Mike

Song: Left Behind from the musical Spring Awakening

Method of Death: Gunshot

Time of death: 7:35 P.M. on Saturday, October 16, 2010

Last Known Words: "Don't cry for me, don't mourn my loss, but remember my name."

You fold his hands, and smooth his tie, you gently lift his chin
Were you really so blind, and unkind to him?
Can't help the itch to touch, to kiss, to hold him once again
Now to close his eyes, never open them

Mike had never really meant to sign into a suicide pact. But when the woman he loved signed into it—and only now did he know why she had—he jumped aboard. There was no way, absolutely no way, he could let her die alone. He just had to make sure she was met with arms wide open in Heaven. Of course, she was already dead, and no doubt happier with Artie than she would ever be with him, but Mike still wished that Tina had loved him as much as she'd loved the wheelchair-bound boy.

He didn't always love her. In fact, he never really noticed her until he had joined Glee club along with Puck and Matt Rutherford, whom he'd missed terribly. But as soon as he'd joined, the moment he'd walked into that choir room, his eyes had been trained on the beautiful Asian girl sitting off to the side, laughing with Mercedes and Kurt. He was instantly smitten with her. He loved when she smiled. He loved that she had her own sense of style and didn't try to fit in with the other girls, especially the cheerleaders. He loved when she sang, and even thought she was a better singer than Rachel. She was certainly more tolerable and likable than Rachel.

But Tina never loved him, no matter how much he wanted her to.

A shadow passed, a shadow passed
Yearning, yearning for the fool it called a home

So what was Mike to do?

The woman he loved was dead.

His best friend transferred to another school.

And to make matters worse, his father was being, well, his father.

Mike didn't have a good relationship with his father, suffice to say. In fact, he nearly hated his father. There was so much he wanted to do in life, but he couldn't, because his father was always standing in his way. And his father never listened! Mike could've strutted naked through the living room and recited the national anthem backwards, and his father still wouldn't care. His standards were just too high for Mike's reality. If he brought home anything less than an A in school, it was the belt for sure. Even if it was an A-; that was sure to get a good three whips with his father's belt. So Mike studied. That's all he ever did; went to football practice, went to Glee club, and studied. He'd stay up all night, studying for exams and doing work for his Advanced Placement classes. He knew it wasn't right; he'd just fall asleep in class or at practice the next day. But if he was able to avoid his father's anger, it was worth it.

All things he never did are left behind
All the things his Mama wished he'd bear in mind
And all his Dad ever hoped he know

What Mike wanted to be more than anything in the world was a dancer.

His father wanted him to be a doctor.

But Mike didn't. He didn't even really like science. But dance…dance, he loved. Dance, he was passionate about. Dance filled him up with happiness that nothing else in the world could bring him. Dance made him feel invincible. It made him feel as if he were flying, flying away from everything that bothered him in his daily life. So, Mike snuck into the dance classroom during his lunch periods sometimes, just so he could get it out of his system. Sometimes, he'd even sneak onto the stage in the auditorium and dance there. He liked that. He liked the expansive, black stage. He liked how wide it was, how rough but comforting its floor was. He liked knowing that no one could burst in on him if he closed the doors properly. He liked that he was naturally light on his feet and was strong enough to do lifts and trick moves in their hugely choreographed group numbers.

He loved the most when he got to dance with Tina that one time.

All the talks you never had
The Saturdays you never spent
All the grown-up places you never went

"Come on, Tina. Why don't you want me?"

"You know I still haven't gotten over Artie," she had tried to push past him.

"But I thought you two broke up."

"Yes, and I feel horrible about it still. I'm sorry Mike, but I just don't feel the way about you that I felt about Artie."

"I'd be so much a better boyfriend than Artie," he'd tried to convince her.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "But no."

"Is that 'no' as in 'never' or 'no' as in 'not now, but maybe later'?"

"It means never," she gritted her teeth. "I'm going to get Artie back, one way or another."

"He won't take you back," he said fiercely. "Not after you broke his heart."

"Oh, he will," her eyes were hard. "Even if I have to die trying."

Mike shivered at those words now as they replayed in his head. Every time he pictured Tina's body lying broken in that dark, lonely alleyway, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream and yell and go back in time and save her life and make her not jump, to make her somehow not leap off that impossibly tall building and fall, fall, tumble, stumble, fly to her death down below on the hard, unforgiving ground.

But he couldn't save her now. And now, he wanted to die more than ever.

And all of the crying you wouldn't understand
You just let him cry

"Make a man out of him."

"Michael," his father said sternly. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, father," he bowed his head. "But that teacher hardly ever gives anyone an A in her class. I was lucky enough to get that B+."

"Do you know what a B+ is?" Mike shook his head. "It is failure. Yale will not accept students with a B+ in Advanced Physics. Harvard will not accept students with a B+ in Advanced Physics. Princeton, MIT…none of them will take students with a B+ in a class such as Advanced Physics. Especially when they are applying to the medicine program."

He sighed heavily. "I suspect you know what happens now."

"Yes," Mike swallowed hard. "I get the belt."

"I don't want to have to do this to you, Michael," his father stood up, undoing his leather belt. "But this must be punished." Mike undid his pants, exposing his bare buttocks. He bent over the couch and braced himself for the incoming force. One, two, three, four…oh, God, Mike bit the inside of his cheek as he realized he'd be getting the full ten whaps that night. "Don't cry out," his father warned. "Men don't cry."

A shadow passed, a shadow passed
Yearning, yearning for the fool it called a home

When he was a child, Mike always cried when he got punished with his father's belt. He never meant to, but when you're a little boy or girl getting spanked for doing something wrong—even if it wasn't always your fault—you're going to cry, no matter how tough you thought you were. But now, he never cried at it. He'd almost become immune to it. This was the first one he'd gotten in a while, though, and the hits came hard and stung something fierce. He scuttled up to his room a few tense moments after it had ended, and collapsed face-down on his bed. The pain subsided after some time, but nothing could compare to the pain in his heart.

The pain of a father who didn't love him enough.

The pain of a mother who turned the other cheek.

The pain of the girl who he loved, who was now six feet under.

The pain of a dream never to be realized.

He'd cried the night Tina died. He knew when she was going to do it, but he didn't know how or where. The news had hit him as hard as it had the people who were not part of the Pact. If only he could have saved her. If only he could've told her that he loved her one time before she died. If only he had jumped off that building with her, both free-falling to their deaths in each other's arms, safe in death and in Heaven's warm light.

All things he ever wished are left behind
All the things his Mama did to make him mind
And how his Dad had hoped he'd grow
All things he ever lived are left behind
All the fears that ever flickered through his mind
All the sadness that he'd come to own

Mike knew how he wanted to die. They all knew, he suspected. It was all pre-planned, deliberate, and intentional. That's what suicide was, wasn't it? It was pre-mediated thoughts and actions that were carried out. He'd had half a mind to turn Tina in when he learned that she was suicidal. He wanted to press a piece of paper into her hand that had the number of a suicide hotline written on it. He wanted to call them up and tell them that the girl he loved was in trouble, that she wanted to take her own life, and that he wanted to save her more than he wanted to save himself.

But he didn't. And he still didn't know why, entirely, that he didn't turn her in.

But when he learned of her secrets, her pain, something in him changed. He wanted to kill her 'father' and the men who had raped her. He wanted to bring her back, to hold her and tell her that it was going to be okay.

And now, he was finally going to see her again. Of course, she'd been with Artie for nearly a month now. He'd just have to fight him off and woo her all over again. He could kick back and toss a football with Sam, if he wanted to. He slipped out to his backyard. No one was around. They lived on a dead-end street, and he knew their leader was stationed very closely by so that they could frame the death accordingly. He sent off a text to them as he queued up the appropriate song on his iPod.

Mike: Going to do it a minute after I receive your reply to this.

(512) 425-9821: I'm only two minutes away, and I can run fast. Go. Artie, Tina, and Sam will meet you on the other side.

Artie. Mike gritted his teeth at the boy's name. He knew he had to act now, to act quickly and swiftly.

He took the gun out from where he'd stashed it.

He put the barrel into his mouth, enjoying the cool touch of it.

And he pulled the trigger…

A shadow passed, a shadow passed
Yearning, yearning for the fool it called a home

The leader flew to the scene of the death exactly sixty seconds after they'd sent the message to Mike. They reached the house in record time, hopped the fence, and rushed to Mike's side. Blood was pooling around him, and they knew that if the neighbors had heard the gunshots, it wouldn't be long until sirens sounded. They grabbed the gun with their gloved hand—so that their fingerprints wouldn't show up on it—and hurriedly put it away, making note to return it where Mike had found it in the first place. Then, they found Mike's journal next to his iPod. They were puzzled over the song choice Mike had chosen; he wasn't the theatre type of person, but they supposed it could fit, as it was a song sung after a suicide. Hearing sirens in the distance, they sprinted towards the fence, leaping over it again and running off into the distance, heart pounding in their ears as they fled the scene of their classmate's suicide.

And it whistles through the ghosts still left behind
It whistles through the ghosts still left behind
It whistles through the ghosts still left behind

To be continue…