A/N- My apologies for the delay. I got my wisdom teeth out this week and so I've been really out of it all week but now I'm sort of good to go again. Also thanks so much for the support and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 2

"Hey, did you hear about what happened to Hannah Baker?"

Clay looked away from his locker to see Sheri Holland staring at him.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Hannah Baker, she's in the hospital. Apparently she tried to kill herself," said Sheri. Clay noticed the concerned look she was giving him.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I heard about that," said Clay, trying to keep his voice sounding as nonchalant as possible.

"Listen Clay, I know you're good friends with her. You don't have to pretend like you're not," said Sheri, placing a hand on Clay's shoulder. "If you need to talk, I'm here for you."

"Yeah, I-I know," answered Clay. "Look, I should probably get to class." He grabbed his textbook from his locker and put it in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder and closing the locker.

"Oh right. We have communications together. Can I walk with you?" asked Sheri hopefully.

"Uh, sure," said Clay. Sheri smiled warmly at Clay and they walked down the hall together to their class. They were greeted by Mrs Bradley and took their respective seats. Clay unslung his bag and pulled out his notebook and pen, then dropped his bag onto the floor next to him. He spotted Justin Foley and Zach Dempsey chatting quietly in the corner, both giving Clay furtive glances.

"Now, before we begin I would like to..." Mrs Bradley's speech was cut off by the sound of the school's intercom music, signaling an important announcement.

"Good morning Liberty High," said the voice of the school's principal, Mr Bolan. "Now, as I am sure you're aware, one of our students, Miss Hannah Baker, was taken to the hospital for treatment after a series of unfortunate events. We have been notified that she will recover though, thanks to the efforts of Misters Clay Jensen and Tony Padilla, who were able to rescue Miss Baker in time and may very well have saved her life. Now, I ask that you respect Mr Jensen and Mr Padilla's need for privacy should they request so, but do not be afraid to thank them for their services, that is all."

The intercom ceased, and Clay felt every pair of eyes in the classroom focussed on him. He was distinctly aware of Sheri's surprised look, and tried his best to avoid looking at anyone by looking down at his open book.

"Well, it seems you're a hero, Mr Jensen," said Mrs Bradley. Clay had no reply, instead choosing to continue staring down at his book as he felt his face burn up in shame. Who the hell told the school about Hannah and his and Tony's role in saving her?

Clay looked up when they gave Clay a round of applause, but the sound felt like thunder going of in his ears. It felt as though the clapping was rattling his brain, and he started to hyperventilate because he felt like a python had wrapped itself around his torso in a death coil. It was a sickening feeling, and Clay had to get out of here.

"Can I be excused?" said Clay, interrupting the clapping. Mrs Bradley looked at Clay in confusion, which turned to remorse and she acquiesced Clay's request. Clay wasted no time and quickly packed his things away before bolting from the classroom. Clay quickly made his way to the bathroom, forcing himself into one of the cubicles and dropping to his knees before vomiting the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Groaning after finishing his vomit session, Clay leant back from the toilet and rested against the cubicle wall. How could people be so oblivious to the fact that a girl had almost taken her life? And they were acting like Clay was some kind of hero. They wouldn't if they saw me last night, Clay thought morbidly.

Clay stayed in the bathroom right through the rest of first period, ignoring the stream of teenage boys that came in and out, talking about girls and the next basketball game. He finally decided to leave once the bell rings for lunch, though by the time he's out of the bathroom, Clay realised how bad of a decision that was.

Everyone who saw him exit the bathroom was now looking at him, some with expressions of respect, others with awe. Some kids were whispering to their friends, no doubt providing their own in-depth analysis of what they think happened last night. Clay was disgusted by it all. How could they simply gossip about people's lives like they were an object and not a human being? It was probably why Hannah tried to kill herself, Clay mused as he headed towards the cafeteria. After all, he had heard all the nasty things that had been spread about Hannah, things that affected her far more than Clay realised.

He ignored the pats on the back and shouts across the hall thanking him for saving Hannah's life. He didn't do it for them, he did it for Hannah, the girl who deserved so much more in life than what she got. Clay grabbed a tray of food and looked around the food hall, hoping to find an empty table where he could sit in peace. However, he spotted Tony sitting alone, looking like he wasn't affected at all by all the people staring and whispering about him.

Clay sat down opposite Tony and stared at him. Tony ignored him and continued munching into his sandwich, which Clay admitted to himself, was slightly unnerving.

"How do you do it?" Clay finally said.

Tony looked up from his meal with a confused look on his face. "Do what?" he asked.

"Act like all this isn't bothering you," clarified Clay. "All the whisperings, all the people picking at our lives and what happened last night. How are you not bothered by it?"

Tony put down his sandwich and sighed. "I am bothered by it Clay. I just know how to hide it better than you," he said.

"But aren't you annoyed that they're talking about us saving Hannah's life like we're some kind of superheroes? If they had seen us last night, covered in her blood, they wouldn't be saying that."

"Clay, a lot of people wouldn't have done what we did. I'm not saying that in an arrogant way, it's just the truth. You and I are probably the only people who actually cared about Hannah," said Tony tiredly.

Clay frowned. "How do you know that?" he asked.

Tony looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I listened to the tapes."

"You WHAT?!" yelled Clay, drawing the attention of the people sitting closest to them.

"Shut the fuck up dude!" whispered Tony.

"Sorry," mumbled Clay. "I thought you said we would listen to them together?"

"I did and I'm sorry for not telling you. But man, there's some heavy shit on those tapes, and I'm worried about how you'll react," said Tony.

"What do you mean?" asked Clay. Tony hesitated for a few moments.

"I can't say. Hannah wanted it done a specific way. I'll give you the tapes after school, but I'm coming with you," said Tony.

"Fine, fine. I'll see you later Tony," said Clay, grabbing his bag and standing up.

"Aren't you gonna eat your lunch?" asked Tony, pointing to Clay's untouched tray.

"Not hungry," Clay said bluntly.

"Eat."

"I'm not-"

"Don't be such a baby and eat." Tony's tone brokered no room for argument.

"Fine," growled Clay sitting back down and unwrapping his sandwich.

oOoOoOo

Later that day after school finished, Clay was sitting in his room with Tony, holding Tony's walkman and one of Hannah's cassette tapes in his hands. He plugged his headphones in and put them over his ears, slid the tape into the walkman and pressed play.

"Hey, it's Hannah... Hannah Baker."

Clay stiffened at the sound of Hannah's voice, which seemed so sad and devoid of emotion. His breathing became rougher and deeper as he continued listening to the tape, of which Justin Foley was the subject. He was shocked to learn that he was one of the reasons why Hannah tried to kill herself, seeing as he was one of the people listening to it.

"So it wasn't true," Clay finally said once he had finished listening to the first tape.

"What wasn't" said Tony, though Clay had the feeling that Tony knew exactly what he was talking about.

"The part about them not doing anything more than kiss," said Clay.

"Did you assume otherwise?" asked Tony.

"No! Well, I never believed that she was a slut like the rumours said. Just that she was... experienced," admitted Clay.

"Honestly, I thought the same thing," said Tony. "Do you want to continue?"

"Sure," said Clay.

Clay ejected the tape, flipped it, then put it back in and pressed play. All through the night, Clay listened to how Jessica, Alex, Tyler, Courtney, Marcus, Zach, Ryan and Sheri each took part in destroying Hannah's life. What he couldn't understand, however, was what he did to hurt Hannah so badly that she wanted to kill herself.

"You okay man?" asked Tony.

Clay looked up to Clay and slowly nodded his head, grabbing the sixth tape. Before he could put it in, however, Tony grabbed his hand.

"Are you sure?" said Tony.

"Huh?" asked Clay, feeling confused.

"You look like you could use a break," pressed Tony, still not letting go of Clay's hand.

"I'm fine. I need to know what happened," said Clay. To be truthful, Clay was exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. He was sickened by Hannah's words, and even more disgusted by his classmates.

"Okay man," said Tony, finally letting go of Clay's hand.

Cay pushed the tape into the walkman and pressed play. He was stunned when Hannah said his name, learning why exactly Hannah included him. Clay eyes filled with tears when Hannah didn't blame him for doing anything wrong, explaining how his company and make out session at Jessica's party was one of the most magical moments of her life, and a brief moment where she felt truly happy. The tears in Clay's eyes spilled down his cheeks when Hannah said she blamed herself for kicking out of the room that night at Jessica's party.

When his tape finished, Clay was sobbing, feeling wracked with guilt about everything, despite Hannah's insistence to the contrary.

"This is all my fault," cried Clay. Tony rubbed Clay's back in comfort, trying to ease Clay's pain.

"It's not your fault Clay," soothed Tony.

"It is though! If I hadn't left her, Bryce wouldn't have raped Jessica! Sheri wouldn't have knocked down that sign and Jeff would still be alive! Hannah wouldn't have tried to kill herself!" shouted Clay, standing up from his bed and pacing his room.

"Quiet! Your parents might hear you!" hissed Tony.

"I should have helped her!" continued Clay, his shoulder shaking as he sobbed loudly.

"You can still help her!" said Tony. "Be there for her when she wakes up, help her. Give her a reason to not try to kill herself again."

"How?" asked Clay.

Tony's face remained impassive. "Just be her friend. Be more attentive to her needs," he said. "Visit her at the hospital whenever you can."

"Yeah, you're right," said Clay, sniffing as he rubbed his eyes. He looked down at the discarded walkman.

"Do you want to continue?" asked Tony.

"yeah..." mumbled Clay, sitting back down on his bed. He picked up the walkman, put his headphones over his ears, flipped the tape, then pressed play.

oOoOoOo

"Hi. Clay Jensen, here to see Hannah Baker," said Clay to the receptionist at the hospital. The receptionist, a younger attractive woman, merely nodded her head and gave Clay directions to Hannah's room before she turned her attention back to the monitor in front of her.

Feeling slightly put off by the lady's curt attitude, Clay set off to Hannah's room. He hopped into an elevator and pressed the button that would take him to the third floor, and concentrated on the soft music playing that was typical of elevators. It was odd that of all things, elevator music would be the thing to calm Clay's erratic emotions. The elevator stopped abruptly and a pleasant female voice spoke from the elevator's speakers, telling Clay it was his stop.

He walked out slowly, turning his head side to side to see where Hannah's room number might be. He had been told that she had been moved to a smaller room while she recovered, so Clay was in unfamiliar territory, though he probably didn't remember where her old room was. Clay spotted the Hannah's room, number 34, down the hall to his left.

Clay paused before knocking on the door, and the door swung open to reveal a pleasantly surprised Mrs Baker standing before him.

"Clay! How nice to see you!" said Mrs Baker. Clay heard somebody cough behind her, though he couldn't see who it was.

"Uh, hi," said Clay. "I just came to see Hannah and see how you're doing."

Mrs Baker beamed at Clay, but he could see that her eyes were bloodshot and had large purple bags under them. "How sweet of you. Come in! Come in!" said Mrs Baker enthusiastically, making room for Clay to enter.

Clay stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked around the room. It didn't appear as sterilized as Hannah's previous room, and definitely felt cozier. There was a wooden bedside table that had a small stack of magazines and a framed photograph of a beautiful sunset orange primrose. There was a wide window that offered a view of the streets below, which was bustling with activity as people went about their day to day lives. Sitting at Hannah's side in a comfy-looking armchair was Mr Baker, who was reading a well-worn classic novel.

Hannah herself, Clay noted, looked much healthier than the last time he saw her. Even when she was at full health, Hannah had pale skin, but her cheeks her flushed with a rosy pink, and her breathing was long and even. Hannah looked at peace, and Clay's heart swelled.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Doing well," said Mr Baker, looking up from his novel to stare at Clay. "She's recovering a little faster than anticipated, but there are some small problems."

"Like what?" said Clay, his eyebrows furrowing.

"She has some nerve damage in her left arm, which apparently had given her partial paralysis in her hand," explained Mrs Baker. "She'll have full function of everything, she just won't feel some of her fingers."

"Oh," muttered Clay, that feeling of guilt welling up inside him again.

"It's a lot better than the alternative," added Mr Baker thoughtfully. Clay and Mrs Baker nodded their heads in agreement at that.

"Come, sit down," said Mrs Baker, gesturing to an empty arm chair on the other side of Hannah's bed.

"What about you?" said Clay, noticing that Mrs Baker was standing up as well. She waved her hand in the air dismissively.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I usually sit on the end of Hannah's bed anyway," said Mrs Baker nonchalantly. Not seeing any alternative, Clay took the offered chair and sat down. He stared intently at Hannah's face, framed by her wavy hair that hung just above her shoulders. Clay longed for Hannah to wake up, just so he could stare into her eyes that were such a shade of light blue that they looked almost grey.

He realised that Mr Baker was looking at him curiously and Clay looked away from Hannah, his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. He failed to notice Mrs Baker glaring at her husband, and Mr Baker's indifferent shrug before he returned to his novel.

There was silence for several minutes as Mr Baker continued reading his novel, while mrs Baker began flipping through the pages of a magazine, muttering to herself about this celebrity's dress and that famous person's latest hairstyle. Clay, on the other hand just stared at Hannah, offering his silent support and praying that she would get better.

"I have to go to work," said Mr Baker finally, putting a bookmark between the pages of his novel and standing up from his armchair. Mrs Baker looked up and gave him a stern look. "I'm sorry honey, but somebody has to watch the store," he continued.

"I can't come with you," said Mrs Baker in a hard tone.

"Olivia-"

"No! Somebody has to be here, just in case she wakes up."

"I can't run the shop by myself."

"And I'm not leaving her!"

"I can help," cut in Clay. both of Hannah's parents turned to him. "I-I can help you run the store. I've got work off for the next two days and you don't need to pay me or anything, I'll just help around where you need me."

Mr Baker raised an eyebrow at Clay, while Mrs Baker looked like she might burst into tears.

"That's very kind of you Clay, thank you. But I think you should at least let us pay-" started Mr Baker.

"I don't need the money," interrupted Clay, feeling stubborn. "I just want to help out."

Mr Baker sighed and ran his hand through his dark, wavy hair that was beginning to grey in some areas. "Okay then. Come on down to the pharmacy when you can, and I'll set you to work," he said. He walked over and shook Clay's hand, then gave his wife a kiss on the cheek before he departed, leaving Clay and Mrs Baker alone together. Clay fidgeted under Mrs Baker's piercing look.

"You're a strange boy, Clay," said Mrs Baker.

"Uhhh..." said Clay.

"I don't mean that as an insult it's just that there aren't many boys like you these days," added Mrs Baker quickly.

"Hannah said the same thing to me once," said Clay, grinning for the first time in days. Mrs Baker smiled back and said nothing more.

"I should uh... I should probably meet your husband at work," said Clay. He excused himself, giving Hannah one final longing look before he left the room as well.

From her sitting spot on Hannah's bed, Mrs Baker reached over and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind Hannah's hair. "That boy really has it for you," she whispered lovingly to her sleeping daughter. "I just wish you had seen it sooner."