Disclaimer: Don't own. So don't sue…..getting so tired of writing that.

A/N: Ok I have noticed that whenever I get in a bad mood I tend to let out my frustrations, in unhealthy parody writing. Strange, no? Anyways moving on, this is my longest chapter yet, woot, and it's not only Troy centric but Ryan centric as well. It briefly mentions religion and it has quite a bit of angst in it, but since when has this story not had angst? Anyways, I wrote a Ryan/Sharpay fiction so if you're in a steamy, I'm going to hell, type of mood then read it and I also wrote a parody, so if you're in a funny, drugs are tasty, type of mood, then read that. Ok chapter twelve is the chapter that I have been waiting to write since I started this bloody story, so that is what is coming after this chapter. claps excitedly but I hope that you also like this chapter.

Special Thanks To:

Braids21

DarkPhoenix1987

ANoRDaE

sharpayxevans

FallingWithGrace

Dark Angel Kira

death101

Disney-Kid

CSIslave

pollypocket911

mordechaimalachai

MyFictionalAnnihilation

Mondler4EvEr

Thank you for all the beautiful reviews. You guys have made this story more popular then I would have ever dreamed of. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! Much Love!

MY SAVING GRACE

Ryan's mind couldn't grasp the idea of what had just happened. Had he actually gone and kissed someone like Troy Bolton? Of course, he had kissed boys before. In fact, he had done a lot more than kissing in his past, but this was different. This was never meant to happen. Ryan cursed himself for not being able to stop it. No emotion was ever strong enough for him not to be able to control it, and yet one person seemed to be enough to break him, enough to send him toppling over the edge, and he felt like such an idiot. Such an idiot for believing in something as irrelevant as hope.

Sometimes he wished that he could be different. Actually, everyday he wished he could be different. He wanted to be accepted. He wanted to be that sheep that went along with everyone else. He wanted to be a fucking poster child for Jesus. Ryan was a good kid, he always said please and thank you. He never wished bad on anyone else, even as a child he always ate his vegetables and said his prayers at night, and yet it was never enough, because in the eyes of the people who surrounded him, he was a sinner. So he wanted to be different. He pleaded to God, to Jesus, to anyone who was listening to fix him. 'Fix him' was the correct term to use, because to him and obviously to everyone else, he was broken.

Ryan stood up from the position that he had been sitting in ever since Troy had stormed out. He cried out in pain as he straightened himself up right. He wondered vaguely if perhaps the bastards had broken some ribs. He walked slowly over to the long mirror that hung on his wall and with great effort, began to unbutton his dirt smudged shirt. He winced slightly as he pulled the fabric off of his shoulders. He examined himself in the mirror and was shocked and yet expectant of what he saw. The bruises had already begun to form along his ribcage. Their sickly purple and green was a harsh contrast against his pale skin. He lightly ran his fingertips against the sensitive skin, and whimpered at the light touch. His face was in no better shape. Caked blood left a trail beneath his nostrils and his red lips were swollen and cracked. A second bruise was also forming along his cheek bone. He knew that he couldn't let his parents see. There would be too many questions after that, and what would he say anyway? I got the shit beat out of me because I like kissing boys instead of girls? That would go over well. No, he would just use some of his left over stage makeup to cover the bruises.

He walked over to his door, so he could head to the kitchen to get something to drink before his parents arrived home. He reached out and his hand clasped the door knob. This was the same knob that Troy had touched only a half hour ago. Ryan found it amusing and disturbing that he couldn't take his hand from the brass handle, but what he found even more unnerving was the reason why. He couldn't let go because this was a way that he could be close to Troy. It was the way that he could touch something that Troy had touched. It was a pathetic notion to be so desperate for a connection with someone but Ryan held the object tighter anyways. He sunk o his knees, his hand never leaving the knob. It hurt. His body hurt all over, but he would have gladly traded for more physical pain rather than what he felt at the moment. He had thought that he would be ok without him. When Troy had left him at the mercy of Bobby, Ryan had thought that he hadn't needed him. Of course, Ryan had been wrong. Of course, Ryan had been an idiot, and of course Ryan had ruined it all. He touched his lips, the same lips that not too long ago had been pressed against the unwilling lips of Troy Bolton, and at that moment, holding on to that door knob seemed like the most rational and hopeless thing Ryan had ever done in his life.

Troy dreaded the idea of going to school. Actually, to be more accurate, he was terrified at the idea of going to school. He knew that Bobby wasn't going to keep what happened quiet. Yet, as the next day rolled around Troy, once again, found himself standing at those familiar doors.

As he walked numbly down the tiled hallways, no one said anything to him. To most that would be a good sign, but not to Troy Bolton. He was used to having at least twenty different people walk up to greet him every morning, but that morning no one did. They just turned away as they saw him, or pulled the nearest friend close to whisper in their ear. Troy had been right. Bobby had told everyone.

Gabriella had left his bedroom at around three o'clock that morning and Troy wasn't surprised to find that she wasn't at his locker like she usually was. She had found out as well, and Troy felt like he was going to throw up. There was only one person that entire day that would meet his eyes, and it was the only person that Troy had expected not to.

Troy had been heading to English when he had accidentally bumped into Ryan. It had been an honest mistake. Both of them had been lost in more important thoughts and neither one had been paying attention. Their eyes met for a single moment and for that split second both of them forgot. Forgot about their problems. Forgot about the discrimination. Forgot about the rest of the world. Ryan's eyes said so much in that glance but most of all they said "I'm sorry". Troy noticed the hint of heavy makeup covering Ryan's face and for a split moment he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching the barely visible bruise. But he did stop himself, and he did break eye contact, and both of them headed off in different directions without a single word to each other.

No one spoke to Troy that day. Not Chad, not Zeke, not Jason, not anybody. It was like he had committed a fucking crime against the entire school and solitary confinement was his punishment, and it was all because he had stopped a defenseless kid from getting beat up. Welcome to the world gods. You are beautiful in the eyes of all people but slip up once and you suddenly become less than the people who worship you.

He saw Gabriella a couple of times in between classes but whenever he tried to approach her, she would dart into the nearest class room. It was all in attempt to avoid him, and he knew it. Troy felt like this world that he had built had suddenly been demolished. He once had had a perfect girlfriend, a perfect team, the perfect friends, a perfect life, and now he wasn't even worth a single look. Troy found it bitterly amusing that his entire existence, that had meant so much to him, had been held up by such a thin string.

However, the worst of it didn't come until his athletics period. He was changing in the locker room after practice and as he reached to pull his clothes out of his locker, he noticed a piece of paper lying on top of his shoes. It was a note. Troy didn't recognize the hand writing, but he knew who had wrote it nonetheless.

Defending that fag was not such a bright idea. It kind of makes me wonder what team you're playing for. You make me sick, and I make it a promise that I will ruin you Troy Bolton.

Troy let the note fall numbly from it's lose grip in his fingertips. His stomach churned and he suppressed a gag that formed in his throat in order to keep down his lunch. He knew that Bobby was not joking when he said that he would ruin him, and he knew that he could do it. How had this happened? How had it gotten this bad? Before he knew it, Troy was running. Running to escape, running to hide, because maybe if he ran fast enough, none of this would be real.

He was about fifty feet off of school property when he saw them. Troy wasn't sure if they had actually been waiting for him, but as they saw Troy, he knew that they weren't going to pass up this opportunity.

"Well if it isn't the queer lover himself." Bobby threw down the cigarette that he had been smoking and crushed it under his feet, mostly likely visualizing it to be Troy's head under his foot rather than the cigarette. "You know that wasn't a very smart thing to punch me, Bolton." He said in an eerily calm voice as he approached Troy. Troy saw the deep bruise that ran along Bobby's face and if he wasn't so preoccupied, he might of felt some satisfaction for causing it. Troy began to back up slowly but to his surprise two other guys were standing behind him, blocking his escape. They rounded on either side of him and latched onto his arms, holding him in place.

"Does this look familiar? If I'm not mistaken I think that this is the same position your little homo was in not too long ago. Now can you tell me what happens next?"

"Look Bobby, I don't want any trouble."

"In all your life has that line ever actually worked? Now answer the question. What comes next?" Troy didn't say anything he just held his ground as best he could. "Not talking are we? Well let me fill in the blanks." the blow to his stomach came fast and this time Troy couldn't keep down the wave of vomit. His stomach heaved and the contents fell to the ground.

The other two boys made groan of disgust from where they held him but Bobby didn't even seem to notice. The next punch came to his face and Troy could feel the blood splatter from his nose, and he saw specks of it on Bobby's curled fist. "A punch for a punch." Bobby said coldly, spitting in Troy's face. "But somehow, it's just not enough." Bobby brought his knee swiftly upward and it collided into Troy's groin. Troy cried out in pain and his knees buckled. If the other two boys hadn't been holding him up he would have crashed to the ground.

After that the punches kept coming. They weren't specific and their only intent was to hurt. Bobby's fist collided with Troy's face, shoulders, stomach. Anywhere that they could reach. Soon he ordered the other two boys to drop him. Troy fell to the ground hard and by this time he was too weak to defend himself. Bobby began to kick him in the stomach, just as he had done to Ryan the previous day. Troy's vision began to cloud and he fought desperately for consciousness. He thought it was never going to end , but after what seemed like eternity the brutal kicks finally stopped. Bobby crouched down on his knees beside Troy and grabbed Troy's face roughly in his hand, turning Troy to face him.

"Don't you fuck with me. Don't you ever fuck with me." It was a warning, a promise, a threat, and Troy knew that every word of it was true. The three boys walked off leaving Troy lying on the hard concrete.

Troy just laid there in a heap of blood and bruises. He knew that he couldn't stand on his own, and he wasn't stupid enough to try, so he just laid there. It wasn't long though before he heard a voice calling out to him. It sounded desperate, terrified and familiar. The owner of the voice rushed over to him and gingerly lifted his head so he could face the beautiful angel.

"It's ok Troy, it's ok." The voice said desperately. "God, I'm going to get you out of here. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" Troy felt the boys tears drip onto his face as he continued to cry out his apologies. Troy looked up into those shining blue pools and once again, the eyes of Ryan Evans, the eyes that he had been trying so desperately to escape, was his saving grace.