A/N: So excited to finish up the episode! I'm trying to stay accurate on the timeline, but this song worked really well and I wanted to use it regardless, so oh well.
A/A/N: Song featured in "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Phillip Phillips.
Stassi sat silently in the bleachers in the empty field as she watched a lone pink streak of hair swish toward her in the sunlight.
"'Fess up," she called out, causing Nikki to feign surprise.
"Confess to what?" she asked. "You won your competition, didn't you? You couldn't have done that if I were involved in something."
A loud scoff could be heard from the stands. "Oh come on. I already know that you convinced Dylan and Katie to ditch school—"
"I didn't convince them to do anything—I simply heard their desperation for transportation and allowed an opportunity for assistance. I didn't even report their truancy or that they committed multiple crimes in breaking into my locker and stealing my car."
Stassi rolled her eyes. "And you're telling me that Mini-Q and Little Abrams break-up wasn't instigated by you?"
"Well, I may have convinced Gabe Baxter to use his cocky tool-tality to good use against a certain Abrams girl, which may or may not have led to an amusing domino effect against my—ahem— teammate."
"Fatty Addie's little brother?" Stassi repeated in shock.
The Asian girl nodded. "Apparently popularity can be a latent gene, popping up in random places."
"And The Voiceless' sudden stage fright?"
"That was actually just a happy stroke of luck," Nikki told her honestly. "I probably should have made certain it stuck, but you can't plan for everything I suppose. I really am sloppy without you A."
"Coach must have been pissed that we still won."
"Furious—my salon privileges have been revoked, and I have until tomorrow to remove the offending unnatural color in my current high pony." The HBIC stroked the streak lovingly. "It kind of sucks."
The junior patted the other girl's should in sympathy. "So what now?" Stassi asked her, leaning back and watching the open field.
"Well, you know: bask in my success of at least making Fabritch miserable, and just remember—if at first you don't succeed—"
"String them up the next chance you get," Stassi finished with a grin.
Everett gathered his things as school finished at last. He'd been walking in a haze the entire weekend, and not just because they'd won the trophy. No, the thing that had truly amazed him was the conversation that had taken place right before they'd returned to the bus.
Everett was exuberant, still flushing as he watched Hayley hoisting their trophy into the air from where he stood. Maybe she was coming around to the whole team thing after all.
"Hey there Roger," a happy voice greeted him, and Everett turned to see Coby leaning against the bus next to him. "Hell of a performance."
"Dalton and Roxie really smashed it," Everett agreed.
"Yeah, Bruce Wayne and Mighty Mouse were a hit." The larger boy nodded before nudging his shoulder. "You weren't so bad yourself, either. But I guess you're used to bringing out standing O's."
"I'm not that good," the curly-haired junior said with a slight flush.
"I may not be Mr. DeMille or whoever, but you were good," Coby insisted.
"He's right," another voice conceded, and both boys looked up to see Gabriel Millan approaching them, still decked out in his bright colored jacket. He put up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I come in peace," he insisted, putting one of his hands out to shake. "I just wanted to say congrats, and—well deserved."
Everett eyed him suspiciously before taking the boy's hand. "Thanks," he replied reluctantly.
Gabe smiled pleasantly before allowing his eyes to wander to the larger boy. "Coby, do you think we could talk?" he asked hopefully.
Coby's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing slightly as he crossed his arms. "I'm actually hanging out with my team right now," he responded tersely.
"Well, yeah, of course," the crimson-tressed boy replied. "I mean, I just wanted, to you know, apologize. And I thought that since we were no longer rivals or whatever—maybe I could take you out somewhere? Like a dinner nicer than BreadstiX or whatever you have in Lima."
Coby's eyes stayed on the senior's for what felt like forever to Everett; the boy felt increasingly like an intruding party, and all he really wanted to do was get out of there.
However, much to his glee, Coby's arm slid around the smaller boy. "Look, I'm sorry Gabe, but I think I have plans for a while—with my friends."
Gabriel's eyes shifted to Everett's for a long moment as he seemed to hone in on the poor guy's very soul, before blinking and smiling congenially. "Alright then," he said with a casual shrug. "Can't say it wasn't worth the effort. I guess I'll just see you around then." Their rival glanced once more at Everett, who had remained silent throughout. "Congratulations again."
Granted, Coby had apologized almost immediately after Gabe had left, possibly mistaking Everett's stunned silence for discomfort and saying he just meant to establish his loyalties and not trying to be the creepy gay guy. The befuddled junior hadn't been able to say anything and so had just mumbled an acceptance and quickly slipped onto the bus. However, he hadn't stopped replaying the moment in his head and his entire day had been made up of thinking of ways to talk to his teammate.
"Hey Roger!" Speak of the Devil; Everett turned to see Coby breaking slightly from Nina as the made their way toward him.
"Um, hey," the older Harrison replied dumbly.
Coby frowned slightly, looking back to his beard, who nodded pointedly before continuing into the classroom.
"Look," he said, tousled brown hair flopping as he tilted his head guiltily. "I feel like you're still…something at me, you know? Because of that thing back at Sectionals? Look I'm sorry if I was an asshat, making us seem closer or whatever to Angel-eyes over there."
"No, I get it." The voice was tripping over itself as its owner tried to look less transparent about his feelings.
"So, are we cool?" Everett's head jerked in agreement. "Are you sure?"
"Coby, the whole thing with that…I mean, I was just acting like that because I really wanted to tell you…" The thought was there, he should have been more than articulate enough to tell him. Come on Everett! He could hear his subconscious screaming. "I just wanted to tell you…that I'm glad you decided that you were better than him." He finished pathetically.
"Thanks." Coby grinned in relief. "And I swear, I won't drag you into my drama next time. If I need to do something stupid like that, I'll just grab Ash or someone."
"Great, yeah." Everett felt his stomach plummet, but he smiled weakly as Coby grinned and pushed his shoulder playfully before heading inside. He cast his eyes downward as he heaved a sigh, only to feel a second, much harder punch hitting him.
"Are you serious?" Michelle asked incredulously, eyes wide. "He just totally gave that to you and you let him walk away?"
"Ellie!" He grabbed her arm and dragged the tiny Cheerio away from the Music Room door. "And here I always thought you liked your ankles," he hissed.
"Hey, I haven't said a word—not even to Ernie or the other girls," Michelle replied defensively, jerking her arm back. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to say something about watching you totally screw everything up! First the duet, now this; are you ever going to ask him out?"
"It's not that easy Princess," he told her unhappily.
"Sure it is," she said. "He's out, you like him, and as soon as you come out nobody will care. Which means all that's left is the actual asking him out part. To which he'll totally say yes because you're my awesome big brother."
She stepped forward, throwing her tiny arms around him in a bear hug and Everett sighed. "Thanks Chelle," he told her, pausing as he took a deep breath. "I'll figure this out, I promise. I just need a little more time."
"Well don't take too much," she advised him as she pulled away, giving him a knowing look. "You're not the only gay kid in McKinley, and Coby's a hot commodity." And with that, she grinned and turned back toward the door where the last of the team was shuffling in.
Will entered the Glee Room with a wide grin and a spring in his step—his group had really come through as a team, and they had won Sectionals, once again putting the New Directions in the path of becoming National champions. He also looked around with relief as he saw both Dylan and Teddy in their respective seats, though both looked a little distracted.
"So, who's going to say it?" Annie was gloating, looking around at a semi-annoyed group. "Come on," she pushed. "Someone's got to admit I was totally right about The Curse."
"Shut up Annie," Stassi retorted. "We won—there is no curse."
"But in the meantime we had three couple emergencies over the week," Annie insisted. "And we had to scramble to make it work. Totally a curse."
"Either way, we thoroughly kicked their ass," Hayley rejoined with a satisfied grin. "Which is good, because if the Wanna-Beatles had won, I would have seriously had to kill you guys."
"Okay then," he greeted them, interrupting the turn the conversation had taken. "I just want to start off by congratulating you: you were truly amazing out there and proved what a great group of performers you really are."
"Even jinxed," Annie added.
"Oh my god Annie!" Caroline exclaimed, accidentally allowing her eyes to slide to the seat in the corner where Teddy now sat.
"Where's Roxie?" the curly-haired teacher asked, realizing he hadn't seen her in class either; he'd meant to applaud her personally as well.
"I talked to her: she wasn't feeling well the rest of the weekend, so her dad let her stay home," Dalton supplied, triggering quite a few knowing looks and pointed nudges from the team around him to which he grinned. "Anyways, she should be back tomorrow."
"Well, when you talk to her, tell her you both did good," Will requested.
"Yeah, kissing before the performance is much more acceptable than during," Liam joked, causing the group to laugh.
"Seriously guys," their teacher continued as they finally calmed down. "This is a great first stepping stone for you as a team, and I'm really proud. But we're not going to rest on our laurels—we're going to work twice as hard to keep our streak going. However, before we do—"he grinned at his team "—Dylan and Katie have asked to perform their audition duet since they missed out this week."
Dylan grinned as he brought Katie to her feet in the auditorium. His weekend, while being incredibly difficult, had actually been pretty remarkable as well.
It had taken a short time for the boys to get accustomed to their new place, since they were already so used to hiding in tight quarters anyways. Lach and Mitch were already arguing over the television, and Joshua was sleeping on one of the beds. Dylan turned from them back to the window and continued to stare at his phone, trying to decide his next move.
Which, in turn, had led him here, to pizza place that had taken forty-five minutes by cab, where he saw his dad waiting for him in a booth.
The shaggy-haired boy wanted to ignore his father, to just continue to the counter, purchase the two pizzas that he'd ordered and call the cab back to go home to his brothers. However, he'd made the call, and now the man that had caused so much pain was here, watching him with a mix of anger and anguish playing on his features.
Dylan sat across from him and stayed silent a moment. "What happened?" the old man finally asked. "I couldn't find the boys when I got home."
His oldest son kept his tone calm. "They're gone—we've moved out," he explained.
"You what?"
"Dad, you have a problem." He tried to stay level, but the last decade of his life was becoming too much to bear. "And until you figure out how you're going to deal with it, we can't live together. Not like this."
"I know things got out of hand the other night—"
"Just the other night?!" Dylan hissed, still desperate to keep his voice down but completely thrown by his father's ignorance. "Dad, do you think I like dressing like this? Do you think it's fun to try to arrange my brothers' weeks so they're not at home as much as possible? Can you honestly tell me that you believe that it's normal for your sons to huddle behind a locked door or to be afraid to go to the hospital?"
Mark Jamieson looked thrown. "I didn't think—"
"No, you didn't," his son snapped angrily. "You didn't think about the fact that you leave your kids to be taken care of by your fifteen-year old son four days a week and then can't manage to be sober enough to care about them the other three days. You didn't think about the fact that we lie about how terrified we are that someone will find out about you and call Child Services—that they'll separate us. You didn't think about the fact that because of your drinking, we not only lost our mom ten years ago, but our dad too."
The wrinkled trucker looked close to tears, his hand held out uncertainly on the table. Dylan could tell he didn't know what to do, and, honestly, he didn't know what he wanted. He was just a freshman in high school—he shouldn't have to deal with any of this.
"What do you want me to do?" his father finally asked.
"I want you to get some help," the dark-haired boy answered pleadingly. "I want you to realize that you're not alone—that you still have four people in your family that need you so much. That love you despite everything and want you in their lives. But not now. Now I want you to understand that we can't live here anymore; I want you to leave us alone until you're straight: don't visit them at school, don't try to contact them, and don't try to find where we're staying. You and I can talk, and we'll figure out what's next."
His father seemed hesitant; maybe some sort of paternal protectiveness stirring him to feel like he should keep his family close. However, he seemed to finally relent as he nodded to his son's terms. "You need money?" he asked.
"I've got some," Dylan answered curtly.
Mark pulled out his wallet anyways and removed a handful of twenties. "I'm guessing you've still got that debit card," he told him. "But just in case you need something on hand." He looked at his boy with true remorse behind his eyes. "I know I'm screwed up Dyl—I just miss her so much. I don't know how to look at all of you without hurting—you're so much like her."
"We miss her too dad," Dylan told him, folding the money and putting it in his pocket. "But we miss you too, and we need you right now. So please, just be our dad."
With that, he'd stood and walked to the counter. His father never moved from the table, watching his oldest boy pay for two pizzas and walk out the door and into a cab that carried him off into the night.
Dylan had always thought he was taking care of his brothers, but he realized that Katie had seen something he didn't—that they needed more than just a house. They needed their home, and he needed his dad to get better before that could happen.
The music began playing, and he smiled at his girlfriend. When life leaves you high and dry
I'll be at your door tonight
If you need help, if you need help.
Dylan took her other hand and spun her to and fro, I'll shut down the city lights,
I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bribe
To make you well, to make you well.
The blonde girl smiled radiantly, so proud of the freshman next to her. She'd do anything for him. When enemies are at your door
I'll carry you away from war
If you need help, if you need help, she sang.
Your hope dangling by a string
I'll share in your suffering
To make you well, to make you well.
She shimmied beside him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Give me reasons to believe
That you would do the same for me.
The rest of the group joined them in the chorus, And I would do it for you, for you.
Baby, I'm not moving on
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
You will never sleep alone.
I love you long after you're gone
Dalton stepped toward them, And long after you're gone, gone, gone.
Coby turned to Nina and grinned. When you fall like a statue
I'm gon' be there to catch you, he sang out as she dipped backwards into his arms and he pulled her toward him.
Put you on your feet, you on your feet.
Michelle grinned and pulled Everett beside her, And if your well is empty
Not a thing will prevent me.
Tell me what you need, what do you need? She dragged him across the floor toward the other pair, releasing his hand to grab Nina's and racing away, leaving Coby to grin and put his arm around a sheepish-looking Everett.
Dylan stepped into the footwork that had practiced so hard over the week, I surrender honestly, he sang as he watched the blue-eyed girl spin again.
You've always done the same for me.
Liam, Drew, and Teddy harmonized together, You're my back bone.
You're my cornerstone.
You're my crutch when my legs stop moving.
Caroline didn't miss how Teddy watched her wistfully, but she kept her eyes focused anywhere else as she swayed with the other girls. You're my head start.
You're my rugged heart.
You're the pulse that I've always needed.
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating.
The group joined them, Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating.
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating.
Like a drum my heart never stops beating...
For you, for you.
Baby, I'm not moving on.
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
You will never sleep alone.
I love you long after you're gone.
Dalton, recording the whole performance, turned his cell towards himself, And long after you're gone, gone, gone,
I love you long after you're gone, gone, gone, he finished with a smile, sending the recording with a Wish you were here to Roxie
A cell phone on a nightstand pinged to life, but Roxie continued staring up at her ceiling. She was unhappy with having been reduced to taking prescription painkillers at her father's insistence, and was now half-dozing as she stared at nothing.
She glanced up as a knock came from her door, and she watched her dad take a cautious step into her room.
"Titch?" he said softly. "I think we need to talk."