Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Wreckage.

Note: The song itself is much shorter lyrically, so if this looks choppier than all of the other chapters, that's why. Again, thanks for all of the reviews. Five down, five to go, I suppose. In a morbid sort of way, I'm enjoying writing this story, but I think I enjoy reading your reviews even more.

Case File

Pact Member: Mercedes

Song: The Wreckage by Vanessa Carlton

Method of Death: Car crash

Time of Death: 8:01 P.M. on Friday, November 20, 2010

Last Known Words: "My Lord, Jesus Christ, I go to You now, into Your open arms as You welcome me into Heaven."

Speeding into the horizon
Dreaming of the siren

Mercedes had never dreamed that she'd be signing into a suicide pact, not in a million years. She never thought she'd want to take her own life and risk her soul to eternal damnation. She never imagined that she'd be losing all of her dearest friends to the same fate. She couldn't have conceived of a thing such as a suicide pact in the first place. Surely, that was something that only happened in books or movies. That had to be something that you just heard about on the nightly news. They didn't exist in real life. They were just too grisly, too surreal, too deliberate and methodical. It was like something out of The Virgin Suicides, a book that Mercedes had enjoyed, and a movie that she and Kurt had watched together at a sleepover once upon a time ago. In it, five sisters had committed suicide, and four of them did it in an evident pact, just like the one Mercedes found herself caught in now. The book had stuck with her long after she'd read the last words on the final page. It was so breathtakingly beautiful, and she loved the author for it. Why couldn't her own life be that tragically beautiful?

Wishing for her broken glass on the highway
It could be so easy

She never wanted any of it to happen. She never meant for it to happen.

"I can't believe it," Kurt said through his tears. "It's so…beautiful."

"Yes," she sniffled. "It just goes to see how much of a bond can exist between two or three people. Just the fact that they'd want to all die together like that…"

"…it's powerful," Kurt finished for her. He turned to her, a sudden fire in his eyes. "'Cedes, what if we were…what if…what if we were like them?"

"The Lisbon sisters?" The crease between her brows folded. "What do you mean?"

"What if we created a suicide pact?" His eyes were impassioned, his pupils dancing with a newfound light and desire. "You, me, some of the others…what if we were to do it?"

"Kurt," her dark eyes, the exact opposite of his, widened. "That's insane!"

"We wouldn't do it alone…it could be so poetic, so tragic…The McKinley High Suicides," he said dramatically. "We'd go down in Lima history, 'Cedes."

"Kurt," she breathed. "No…I couldn't kill you."

"You wouldn't be killing me," he said fiercely. "I'd be killing me."

The rhythm, rhythm of an engine
Always makes me empty

She managed to talk him out of it, but just barely. The very idea, the very spark of an idea of a suicide pact, had made him come alive like she'd never seen before. And now, a mere four months later, his name was signed on the dotted line in the same flair that Kurt did everything. And hers was written right next to his.

How had this happened?

Was it because she didn't want him to die alone?

Was it because she couldn't let him die alone?

Was it because she was just as messed up as the rest of them?

Well, yes, she didn't want him to die without her. He was her best friend…well, besides Tina, and Tina was dead now. And yes, she couldn't let him die alone. But she wasn't sure if she could live up to the standards set by the four who had gone before her. She hadn't gone through the hell that Tina and Mike had with their abusive fathers. She hadn't been gang-raped like Artie had. She wasn't secretly in the closet—or had been gay-bashed—like Sam had.

So what was it?

What had pushed Mercedes Jones over the edge?

What made her want to take her own life at the age of sixteen?

It went a little something like this…

I see the headlights coming at me
I can't help but wonder

She'd had a sister. Oh, she'd had a beautiful little baby sister. Kyla had been everything that Mercedes wanted to be when she was her age. She was strong. She was tall. She was beautiful, and everyone adored her.

And she died a little after she was born. In fact, she hardly lasted a day before she died because she had too much fluid in her lungs that they couldn't get out at the NICU.

And they'd all been devastated.

But no one had been more devastated than Mercedes. She'd been looking forward to having a little sister, someone who could look up to her and who she could play with and teach how to sing and be a true diva. Someone who could love her unconditionally and who would be her best friend forever. Someone who she could buy "sister" things for and take shopping and tell stories about love and heartbreak to.

But then Kyla was gone, gone before anyone really got to know her. She was a beautiful, beautiful baby. She was the product of much love and labor. In the brief time she'd been alive, Mercedes saw in those dark, tiny eyes everything she ever wanted to be and everything that she'd ever wanted for herself.

Flying, flying in slow motion
Wind through my hair

It seemed like a stupid reason to kill herself, she realized now. She hadn't told anyone about her baby sister that never was. They never noticed how one day a year, she just shut down and didn't want to talk to anyone. She was only ten when it had happened, and now, six years later, it was all hitting her. She would never have the services that Kyla had after her death. She would never have the sheer amount of mourners that Kyla had. She would never have the amount of familial love or comfort. Ever since Kurt had wanted her to form a pact with him, he had been distant and not quite there. She had no idea why he wanted to die so badly, and she supposed she never would, seeing as how he was going to die after her. Would he think she was petty for killing herself over feeling like the family's ghost? Would he think it strange that she died because she would never have her mother's love like Kyla had, like Kyla still had, six years after her short life?

And ripping through the scenery, oh, the wreckage
It is my secret need

Mercedes grabbed her car keys. She had to do this now. There were no excuses; break the Pact, and you suffer the consequences. Tell anyone about the Pact, and suffer. If you don't carry out your own sentence on the day assigned to you, you suffer. No one had ever spoken aloud the exact consequences of breaking the rules, but they could only assume what it was. Mercedes herself came to the conclusion that they'd have to have the leader there next to them as they did it. Perhaps the leader would even do the job themselves, becoming the true killer.

But then again, they were already a killer, deciding when each person was to die. The only thing the members had any control over was the method of which they used to kill themselves. Even the place where they were to die was pre-determined by the leader. Mercedes didn't know why she was chosen as the half-way person. She didn't know why she was number five, and not number seven or number three. She tried to make sense of a pattern, to get into the leader's mind, but try as she could, there were no answers for this. She began to drive towards the area that she was to do it in. She had to hit the tree in a certain way, from a certain angle, to ensure that she would die on impact. She could not live; a botched attempt on your life would also bring about consequences.

Mercedes: Almost there…won't be long now.

(512) 425-9821: Artie, Tina, Sam, and Mike will meet you on the other side.

Her heart and her car sped up as she saw the marked area where she'd stashed her journal earlier that day on her way home from school. It was dark and blessedly rainy; perfect conditions for this to happen. She gunned the accelerator and drove straight towards the tree…

Speeding into the horizon
Dreaming of the siren

The leader heard the sirens way before they saw them. They crouched low in the bushes near where Mercedes' car was totaled by the tree. Skidmarks from the tires lined the streets, and they thanked their lucky stars that it was raining and this could be easily framed as an accident. There was no mess to clean up, nothing to erase or to cover. They saw the paramedics load Mercedes' body into the infamous black bag and put her in the ambulance. It was too late for her now. They had to wait for the coast to clear before running out in the rain, their clothes getting soaked through, to grab the girl's pink journal and stash it away in their bag. They were itching to read it and uncover the diva's darkest secret, but they had to wait until the group was assembled.

They knew exactly what the rest of the order was going to be now.

All the pieces were coming together nicely.

And now, all there was to do was wait their turn to die.

Wishing for her broken glass on the highway
It could be so easy

To be continued…