Dear Sam,

By the time you read this e-mail, I'll be gone. I know you don't check your e-mail very often, so it's unlikely that you'll find this at all, but I just wanted a chance to say goodbye.

Please, don't blame yourself. It's no one's fault but my own. There are so many things that I haven't told you, that you really deserved to know. But it's too late now, and for that I apologize.

I came out to my dad that night. The one when I found out about you and Stephen. I should have known better, but I figured everything else had gone to shit, why not add to the pile? He hit me when I told him. He does that a lot, actually.

I guess that's why I'm doing this. I'm so tired of being scared or hurt all the time. I don't want to live my life wondering when I'll be hit next, or worse… if my secret will be leaked to the whole school. What kind of life is that, a life lived in fear?

I guess Kurt would know wouldn't he?

There's another reason, the overwhelming guilt that I feel every single day. I'm a monster Sam. I hurt Kurt, I hurt you, and who knows who else I could hurt in the future? Really, when you think about it I'll be doing the world a favor. I'm just getting rid of one more deadbeat.

So don't cry over me Sam. I'm not worth it. Go on and live your life. Maybe you can even get back with Stephen, I know he likes you a lot. Go get the happily ever after that you could never have with me.

I love you Sam. And wherever I am, I'll be missing you.

-Dave

I will not pass out. I will not pass out.

Stephen rested his head on the desk, willing himself to stay conscious. He'd given up on taking notes fifteen minutes ago when he realized he was shaking too much to write anything.

Three days ago he'd decided to go on a liquid fast, which quickly turned into consuming nothing but diet soda everyday. Everything had been going well, until today.

"Dude?" His lab partner poked him. "You okay?"

Stephen sat up straight and somehow mustered up the energy to laugh. "Yeah, I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night, I had a last minute research paper to do."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth his head started spinning.

"You sure? You look kinda pale. Maybe you should go to the nurse."

"Yeah… Good idea." He mumbled. It couldn't hurt to go. Maybe she'd let him lie down for a minute.

Stephen pushed his chair back, trying to avoid the terrible sound of metal on tile. He managed to take two steps before his knees buckled, and before he knew it he was out cold, causing quite a commotion in Mrs. Bentley's 7th period Chemistry class.

Sam sat at his kitchen table trying to avoid the angry stare of the huge brown eyes sitting across from him.

"So let me get this straight; you fell for the biggest bully in our school, dated him, got him to come out to his best friend, and then cheated on him." Mercedes said, angrily.

Sam had initially invited Mercedes over to practice their duet for Nationals next week, but she'd only been there for a few minutes before he'd broken down and told her everything.

"I know. I'm a terrible person…"

Her face softened and she reached over to grab his hand comfortingly.

"No you aren't. You just made a mistake, boo. We all do it." She gave him a small smile of understanding. "High school is tough on all of us, but it must be 100 times harder for people like you, Kurt, and Dave."

It was surprising to Sam how accepting Mercedes had been. She was the first person he'd came out to in Glee Club and he'd at least expected a bit of shock.

"Thanks, M." He gave her a tight smile before releasing a sigh. "I still don't know what to do, though. How can I apologize for something this big? This is almost as bad as Ron and Hermione's argument in Half-Blood Prince. "

Mercedes forehead wrinkled as she thought. There was a slight pause before she gasped and exclaimed, "Sing it!"

"Sing it?" Sam said skeptically.

"It's the perfect way to tell him you're sorry! Oh, I know! I'll send you that my list of 'I'm sorry' songs, I still have them on my phone from the time I busted Kurt's window."

"You what?"

"That's not the point! Here," Mercedes pulled out her phone and pressed a few buttons, "I sent them to your e-mail."

"Erm... thanks."

Sam pulled out his iPhone and opened the e-mail app to find about 25 messages waiting; he was never good at keeping up with his e-mails. His eyes skimmed the page and sure enough there was an e-mail from Mercedes, a few advertisements, and an e-mail from-

Sam's heart skipped a beat.

"He e-mailed me!" Sam almost shouted. "It says it's from today- fifteen minutes ago!"

"Well don't just sit there! Open it!"

Sam took Mercedes instruction and opened the e-mail, nervous anticipation swirling in his stomach.

"Dear Sam," he read aloud. "By the time you read this e-mail…"

His voice trailed off, and the phone clattered to the floor.

"What? What's wrong?" Mercedes said in a panic.

"It's..." Sam's voice was almost a whisper, "He's going to kill himself."

"Oh no." Mercedes looked as if she was about to cry. "No, no, no, no. Sam you have to do something! Go over there now!"

Her words fell on deaf ears, for his hands were already fumbling for his keys.

He didn't know what he would find when he got to the Karofsky's. He had no idea if Dave was even alive. All he knew was that he had to get over there, now.

Everything was getting hazier, Karofsky noticed as he lay under the sheets of his bed. The world seemed dimmer to him, probably a side-affect of the pills he'd taken- but he was too out of it to know for sure. He tried to move his arm, and when he found that he couldn't he just silently laughed. He wouldn't need his arms where he was going, anyway.

Staring up at the ceiling, Karofsky allowed his mind to wander to Sam. He missed touching him. He longed to hold his hand, to nibble on his swollen lips, to run his fingers through his wavy golden locks. It was then that it hit him: Never again would he touch, see, smell, or taste Sam again.

He didn't want this. No, he couldn't leave Sam behind.

Karofsky tried to move, tried to call out, but nothing happened. He was trapped inside of his own body, a prison he'd made for himself. Tears pooled in the corner of his eyes. He knew what would happen soon. All he could do was wait to pass out and pray that he wasn't awoken choking on his own vomit.

He blinked in surprise causing the salty liquid to trail down his face. He'd thought he heard something, the creak of his door. But that was impossible. No one knew what he was planning except for one person.

Sam.

The blonde boy materialized in front of him, along with the black girl from Glee club, what was her name? Karofsky could hear Sam yell something at her, and he saw her dial a number on the phone. She looked like a mess, her eye-makeup smeared down her face.

He felt himself moving and drew his attention back to Sam. He was drawing Karofsky to him, holding him in his arms and crying. Karofsky felt himself being rocked back and forth, and he wished that he could say something. He would do anything to stop Sam from crying.

Sam's arms enveloped Karofsky like a cocoon almost. They were like his own little sanctuary. Karofsky relaxed and let his eyes droop. He knew that nothing bad could happen if Sam was here. He was safe now.

His consciousness began to wane and sleep tugged at him, daring him to give in. He tried to fight, but it was no use. There was no winning when it came to a fight with chemicals.

His eyes slipped shut then, the fingers of sleep pulling him into oblivion, but not before he caught a glance of flashing lights coming in his window. Just before he drifted into his slumber he let out a sigh.

The paramedics were here.

He was going to be okay.