A/N: Hey! Thank yous to all that have read this story and have favorited and followed it and reviewed. It's been awhile, I know, I'm sorry. I've been trying to get out a lot of stories and now I have to check up on some started ones. I was with my small town cousin this Thanksgiving so I wrote the part with Mister Hart based on what they have given me as reasons (they are not that violent though and are starting to see my points) and I wrote Grandma Hart as just that funny gambling grandma off of my great grandma, Granna who I did play pitch with and it was so much fun. So hope you like it. Let me know what you think. It's sad, I know. But the sadder the happier the ending will be. Oh and pre-order Damian's new EP! It passed Justin Bieber's and the Glee soundtrack and is one under One Direction. So help him get higher. 3 dreamerwatergirl

Rory bits down on his lip as Mister Shu rambles on about Spanish words. He tries to keep his head down and his eyes are unfocused on his notes. He had come back to school that day and was already caught up. He could almost speak Spanish fluently. It isn't the conjugating and simple switching of words that tripped him up, that was easy. He doesn't every day with English but the pronunaction. His not quite sure if it's the differences in Irish and Spanish or if it's just him. He would rather just keep his mouth shut or at least that was easier. It is rather difficult to actually open your mouth and talk if no one wants to hear you. There were times when he would go without speaking because he could get by without uttering a word. He always felt like there was something blocking his throat and a strange pressure keeping his lips sealed.

He feels Mister Shu's disapproving glances, Puck's unintentional stares, and the crumpled paper balls hitting at the back of his head that bring him out of his thoughts. Puck pokes him in the arm but he cannot response to it before the bell rings and the nearest jock kicks him in the shin as he stands. It causes the Irish boy to fall and the crowd of students to laugh. Puck just looks away as Rory lifts his head off the dusty tile and grimaces.
"Watch were you stand Irish," The jock sneers as he moves past to the door. "You might hurt to someone important."
"You know what Rory? I think I going to hurt someone important with my fists. Oh wait I'm going to hurt him." Puck is on his feet and up in the tall jocks face. Rory just stands as fast as his legs will let him and waits until the guy leaves to follow. Puck tries to say something, anything, to him but Rory just had to get away from people. He doesn't lose it in front of people. He doesn't. He feels the pressure deepen on the back on his skull. He feels his father's broken beer slashing at his abdomen. He hears the T.V in the living room playing a commercial for the new Twilight movie overlapping with the noise of the hallway and his own screams. He feels the glass go deeper into his skin. He sees the sunlight reflect on it as the brown becomes red. He feels the cold metal lockers under him. He groans as he is literally pushed out of his memory, which he would have been thankful for if not for what followed.

"Whatcadoin' here Irish? I thought we made it clear that we don't want you here?" the hockey players voice is similar but Rory doesn't know the name. He probably should though.

"Wow, Phineas and Ferb, really?" Rory mumbles only to get his arms pinned down by two lackeys. They force him off his feet.

"Did we say you could speak, freak?" The players squeeze harder as if they were actually playing hockey.

"Well you did ask me a question. Didn't you? Aren't I supposed to answer?" Rory's voice remained monotone (though after all this time he is afraid) as the brunette, who is way up in his personal space, brow furrows with what has to be utter confusion.

"You know what…. Just shut up." His confusion is replaced with anger. His fist hits Rory's stomach within seconds. Rory tries to double over but the lackeys held him in place. In his mind he curses himself for getting trapped like this so far way from any classroom and so close to the gym. The jock continued his little frustrated act with a few more punches.

They let him go as Mike and Sam pull them off but it's a blur to the Irish boy. He falls to his knees and for a few moments stays there as Mike and Sam throw each other what are concerned glances. Though in Rory's mind just disapproving and disappointed ones. The rest of the school is rather uneventful until later that night.

Joe bounds out of his English classroom in a hurry to find Rory. According to Puck, he had been in Spanish but he didn't look too happy when he left. He didn't give an explanation to that but Joe didn't really care at the moment. He had to find Rory! He had told his parents— well his mom— and now it was time to tell Rory. Spanish had been Rory's second class that day and English had been the third for Joe. That meant they had their last class together and he thanked God it was a free period. If only I can find him! He thinks as he forces his way through the students. He makes his way to the front office. He starts to get the feeling that Puck meant have been messing with him. The older rebel did seem a little nervous for some reason. He opens the glass door with ease and in three strides is over to the secretary. Before for he could say anything fidgeting woman behind the desk a thin arm links through his right arm. It is wishful thinking but for a second he truly lets himself believe it's Rory. But on seeing the wrinkles on the hand that squeezes his forearm he dismisses the idea.

"Grandma? What are you doing here?" Joe stares at the old women with amusement.

"Oh sweetie, can't a grandmother visit her grandson at school?" She smiles and her voice hides more than what is on her mind. She has a reason to be here. Not that Joe needs to see just yet. She lets him lead her to the auditorium.

"I guess, but aren't you supposed to be in Illinois with your pitch (A/N card game) club?"
"I had them make a pit stop. They're all taking a nap anyway. I thought I would check up with my favorite grandson."
"I'm your only grandson."
"Details." She waves away the detail and sits down in own of cushioned seats. She pulls him down with beside her with surprising strength. They spoke about school and other things for the remainder of the school day. Joe calls home to remind his mom that he would have glee till later tonight. Finally she decides it's enough pleasantries and hits at the reason she is here. She had

"Tell me how's that Irish friend of yours." She watches his expression turn dark.

"Rory's okay. He's back today." Joe thinks to the last time he saw Rory on the screen being harassed and beaten by his parents. The people that were supposed to love him didn't. It makes Joe plain out angry. He hasn't been able to look at his computer since yesterday.

"Turns out his parents beat him and then so did the foster place. He won't let me talk to him. He thinks so badly of himself, too." Joe's voice is a mix of sadness, frustration, and anger.
"That poor thing." That is new news to her but it didn't make any difference. If anything the tone of his voice was a dead give away.

"He is so stubborn, too. I try to tell him how amazingly awesome he is and he just denies it." The eighty-five year old smiles at the younger's voice.

"You were just that stubborn. When you were little you refused to believe that there was any other religion besides Catholics. You get that from your father. He is the stubbornest person you will ever meet."
"I don't remember that."

"I'm glad. Now you accept people's differences and you should. I wish my son would see that."

"Grandma, I need to tell you something that you may not understand or accept completely." For a second he hadn't realized that it was actually aloud that he spoke. He freezes, eyes widen.

"I know, Joey, I know." She puts on a small knowing smile. He fidgets beside her confused by what she knows.
"Know what?" Joe is scared of what she does know. She's not mad but still it makes Joe uneasy. He telling his mother had been easy enough but his grandma is going to be a different story.

"I know about you, sweetheart. I know how feel about him." She smiles at him. She does find it a little amusing to watch his face. It fills with fear that she quickly dismisses. "I'm not mad. I'm glad your finally owning up to it."
"How… how do you know?"
"Sweetie, I may be old but I am not blind, yet. Mind you. I saw the way you talked about him, constantly and how who smiled at him and worried about him." Joe blushes and smiles. His grandma accepts him and she knew.

"How did you know that it was more?"

"It helped that I saw the way you held him that morning after the dance. But it was rather obvious. Does he know?" By 'he' she mean her son but Joe took it to mean Rory.

"No… I need to talk to Rory. He just believes that it's a lie or a joke, which considering his childhood I can't exactly blame him." Joe stares at the ground and his smile drops. He pulls on the edge of his dreadlocks.

"Sweetheart, I meant your father. Does he know?" Her voice conveys the fear she did realize she had.

"No, I told mom… Why?" Joe's face falls to worry.

"I'm afraid for your little Irish, Joey."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It cannot be true. It is just a plain out dirty lie from the mouth of a woman who had no mind to see the real sin in her words. Peter Raphael Michael Hart's son is in no way, shape, or form gay. The very use of the word, the very thought of the unholy act sends the rage in him boiling and his thoughts clouding. He is silent, letting the lie sink in and his rage rises. His first words are his first thought.
"No son of mine is a sinful gay. That's a damn lie!" He spits out between his gritted teeth as his wife sets on the table two plates full of pork chops, mashed potatoes, and green beans or better known as his favorites.

"It's not. Why would I lie to you about such a thing?" She had hoped to get further into their meal before telling him about Joe, would be at Glee (and a certain Irish included) until around eight or so. She had decided it was best if he wasn't present. He's too confused and upset with Rory and all that's happened to him enough. There is no need to see his father so angry. She had a feeling it wasn't going well.
"Who? Mary! Tell me who!" He rises to his feet and screams. He curls his palms into fist and clenches them tightly, resisting the temptation to beat the answers out of his wife of eighteen years. That would be a sin. There is no right for to shoot the messenger as the Bible teaches.

"Who what? Her caring warm brown eyes are hard as she snaps back at him. Her palms are pressing flat against to the blue patterned countertop.

"Who made my son this way? Who turned him into a damn faggot?" His little patience is running thin and his thoughts are blurred into that one question. Mary Hart didn't answer at first thought. She believes it best to leave the poor boy out of it.

"How can we say that he hasn't always been this way?" She means for her words to only cover for the boy but she sees a new truth to them. Apparently, this realization leaves her face unmasked to her long time husband.

"It's that damn Irish boy. Isn't it? I knew I didn't like that boy." Peter smirks with triumph as Mary turns away to think of a lie that will dismiss Rory for this situation and to escape that frightening smirk.
"You just don't like him because he has doubts in the Lord." She faces him while he holds up a fist. She has never seen such anger from the man she fell in love with or from any man for a second thought. The green eyes she fell for are gone and replacing them are dark deadly orbs.

"He doubts because he is a damn dirty sinner." He can feel his fist shaking in tune with Mary's breathing, rapid. He can see his thoughts narrowing with extreme hatred.

"If he is then so is your son." This had gone to far. This hatred. This anger. Everything happening in this moment, in his words, is filled with such terrifying evil. It makes her skin crawl. How can a God-loving man be so prejudice against God's own creation? 'Love is love' as her son had taught her. The words send Peter over the edge and to his suit jacket. His son is only a faggot because of that damn boy. It would be a sin to lay a hand on his own son. It takes him only five minutes of rage driving to reach the school. He vaguely recalls Mary saying that Glee ran late because Rory was back. The halls are dark and empty even if it is only around five-thirty that just makes finding the boy by his open locker flipping through a notebook so much easier.

"Mister Hart? Are you looking for Joe, sir, he's—" The man's rage takes control and pushes Rory against the opposite line of lockers and lands his fist into his face. The smaller boy falls to his knees only to have Peter's feet make contact with his stomach for the second damage today. The rage continues and worsens as Rory takes the beating not caring to ask why. Just taking it. It only angers him more. Mister Hart wants the gay to know just how sinful he is. He reaches down and flips the rapid breather on to his back. The enraged kneels on Rory's abdomen. Rory struggles but it's on use. He has come to learn that it never is. Peter hits the white face as he speaks.

"You pathetic little fag!" *HIT*HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT

"You think you can just turn by God-fearing son into a homo?" *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT

"With or without me, he would have been that way. It was only a matter of time." Rory snaps feeling tired enough of it all to be mouthy.

"You turned my son into a sinner! I will kill you!" *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT *HIT ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You don't think Dad would actually hit Rory ... Do you?" Joe's question is answered by a short scream. Joe moves on his feet, unaware he had been stand, to the hallway. Rory's is thank God close by. Joe stops short as he hears his father's voice and more importantly his words. Joe almost smiles at Rory's answer but he can't. Not with the picture of his dad and his best friend in front of him. Not while his father attacks his best friend that he loves.

"DAD! STOP! What are you doing?" Joe screams as he pushes his father away. He kneels beside Rory, who is just grateful to see Joe.
"I'm teaching that damn gay a lesson. He turned my son." Peter ignores Joe and moves closer to the shaking boy. The boy moves with his back against the wall and Joe snakes an arm in between the red jacket and the tan drywall. Rory's eyes release the tears he hadn't realized he was still able to cry after all the worse beating for less he had received in his lifetime. Joe pulls Rory close to him as he did the last time Rory cried as Rory hugs his waist. Joe watches transfixed on the bruises forming and the cut on his lip. Coach Sylvester and Blaine rush into the hall. Blaine dives to Rory's other side as Coach Sue yells and scolds like the pro she had improve to be. She marches him off to Figgin's office, knowing full well Rory would be fine with the two boys.

"What happened, Rory?" Blaine's voice is masked as Rory coughs and wipes away the blood.

"I don't know." Is all that he is able to choke out.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I-I should have… done something." Joe can't keep his voice from breaking.

"It's alright, Joe. I've gotten worse." At this Joe tightens his hug and pulls him even closer, smelling the clover scent. Rory timidly wraps his arms around Joe's neck. Blaine behind Rory now smirks. All the words Joe had been so intent on saying are caught somewhere in his throat though they are screaming in his mind. Maybe his vocal chords will work tomorrow. The two boys let go of each other as Kurt, Puck, Sam, and Finn rush to help the three to their feet. They question what happened and their eyes wide. Rory says he'll let them know when he does but right now there is something he has been meaning to do in Glee for a while. When they get back to the choir room, everyone asks about the bruises but he simply says Mister Hart was a little upset to find out he was gay. Kurt and Blaine just hold each other, as do Santana and Brittany along with all the other respected couples. Quinn glances questioningly at Joe from underneath Puck's arm.

"So this is a song that reminds him of my mother and when she left."

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing

Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in

Cos I got time while she got freedom

Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break even

Her best days will be some of my worst

She finally met a man that's gonna put her first

While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping

Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven... even... no

What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you,

And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok

I'm falling to pieces, yeah,

I'm falling to pieces

They say bad things happen for a reason

But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding

Cos she's moved on while I'm still grieving

And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven even... no

What am I gonna to do when the best part of me was always you,

And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok

I'm falling to pieces, yeah,

I'm falling to pieces, yeah,

I'm falling to pieces

(One still in love while the other ones leaving)

I'm falling to pieces

(Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven)

Oh you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain

You took your suitcase, I took the blame.

Now I'm try'na make sense of what little remains ooh

Cos you left me with no love and no love to my name.

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing

Just prayin' to a god that I don't believe in

Cos I got time while she got freedom

Cos when a heart breaks no it don't break

No it don't break

No it don't break even no

What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you and

What am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok

(Oh glad your okay now)

I'm falling to pieces yeah

(Oh I'm glad your okay)

I'm falling to pieces yeah

(One still in love while the other ones leaving)

I'm falling to pieces

(Cos when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven)

Oh it don't break even no

Oh it don't break even no

Oh it don't break even no