Author's Note: Hi everybody! So here is the second installment of Small Steps, which I hope you're enjoying so far. Thank you so much for the feedback! The reviews made me so happy :)

Umm, this chapter was a little hard to write. I know what I want to happen (thank you to JemDragon84 for all your help with ideas!) but it was a little hard to put into words. I think it might be because I'm so attached to all the characters, lol. Anyways, let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the cast members or the characters of Glee.

Summary: When some of the Glee Club's own are caught in the crossfire of a school shooting at McKinley, each member's life is left in shambles. It will take all of their strength to recover.

Warnings: Character death, language, violence, angst, self harm, depression

Rating: M (to be safe)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Friendship/Tragedy/Drama

(Favs: 9, Alerts: 29)

Small Steps

Sam hears the noise when he's standing by his locker, grabbing his ticket for a free lunch. His mind barely processes it, but with a pang, he realizes it's a gunshot and why is there a gunshot? and that Oh-my-freaking-God there is a gunman in McKinley.

Two thoughts rush to his head: first that he is actually scared shitless (but who in his right mind wouldn't be?) and second, he has to get out of runs through his options of staying hidden in a classroom, running toward his car, and getting the hell out of McKinley, or finding his friends, and he begins making a beeline toward the school courtyard.

It's then that he nearly stumbles over a limp figure in the hallway, and when he sees the blood pooling from underneath Azimio's body, it's all he can do to keep himself from vomiting. The bile rises in his throat and the panic rises in his chest, and he looks away from Azimio only to see a skinny girl coughing slightly against the locker. Her hands are clasped over her side, and she's whimpering softly.

"Hey, hey, calm down," he says breathlessly, as he holds the girl's shoulder up so that she doesn't crumple over into herself like a piece of flimsy origami. "Shhh, just breathe. My name is Sam. Can you tell me your name?" He diminishes his voice to a sweet, soothing tone, and flips back his white-blonde hair with one hand.

"J-J-Jessica," she shudders, stammering her words. Her hands press down harder onto her side, and he can see the blood seeping through the gaps in her fingers.

"Crap," he mutters, trying to slow his racing heart, which feels like it's about to punch a hole in his chest. He thinks vaguely back to when he was a Boy Scout and remembers something about applying pressure to wounds to stop bleeding. He shrugs off his letterman jacket, removes her hand from her side, and applies it against her stomach. "This is gonna sting, alright?" he warns, and lifts her hands to press down on her side. God, why is there so much blood?

Jessica is going limp in his arms, and he's trying hard not to panic—but his heart is slamming in his chest at the rate of a million miles and his jacket is seeping up blood so rapidly that he can feel it get physically heavier in his grasp, but the bleeding's not stopping. Jessica whimpers out quietly in pain, and it's all he can do to keep himself from breaking down completely.

"Shhh, Jessica," he stammers. He's not really good at this comforting stuff, but he needs to try. "Why don't you... tell me about yourself? Hey, hey," he soothes as she starts shivering, "I'll go first. I told you, I'm Sam. I play football, I have two younger siblings who I'm crazy about, and... I'm in Glee Club."

Jessica's voice is dreamy and sleepy-sounding. She closes her eyes, disoriented, and then reopens them. She replies in a thick voice, "I want to be a doctor. I w-was g-g-going to sign up for G-glee Club t-today." She coughs then, and it sounds thick and mucousy. "I-I've never k-kissed a boy." Her eyes close again.

"Well, um, hey," Sam says quietly, biting his lips softly. "That's okay."

He doesn't know what he's doing now, or if it's even okay because he's pretty sure that things are pretty damn far from being okay, but he leans forward and kisses her softly, his lips barely meeting hers. He pulls back, licking his lips slightly, his hand still grasping her shoulder. "Now you've been kissed."

Jessica gives him a thin, small smile, and she's about to respond, but suddenly, her eyes roll back in her head and her limbs are shaking. His limbs have frozen up and he's glued to the position where he is and Jessica is bleeding all over his sweater and he has no idea what to do. A large red bubble emerges from her mouth and bursts, and then her body stops moving and she's still in his arms.

"Jessica?" he doesn't make an effort to mask the horror in his voice anymore as his voice arches up an octave. He's doing everything right—he's stopping the bleeding, why isn't it working? He shakes her shoulder and her head lolls around limply. "Jessica, are you alright?"

But she's gone.

Tina thinks she must be the luckiest girl in the world. Most girls are lucky if their boyfriends remember their birthdays and maybe Valentine's day, let alone their anniversaries. And not only has Mike remembered their one-year anniversary (and the six-month and the one-month), but he's also laid out a quilt on concrete stairs of McKinley's lunch area and packed a lunch he claims he made himself (and though Tina has her doubts, she is not complaining).

"This is us," Mike says seriously, as he takes out two people-shaped cookies. One of the cookies is wearing a black dress and Tina laughs out loud as she takes in the blue streaks in the cookie girl's black hair and the painstakingly iced fishnets on her legs (yeah, there is no way Mike made these). The other is a smiling, shirtless boy cookie with iced on abs and blue pants. Both cookies have cheesy, dotted eyes and "u" shaped smiles on their faces.

Mike just looks so hopeful, so eager. "Do you like them?"

"I love them," Tina says, completely honestly.

Mike gives her a wide smile and eagerly leans in for a kiss. Tina delightfully complies. "I love you, Mike Chang."

Mike hums in agreement as their kiss intensifies. She feels his hand come up to clasp her cheek while his other hand grasps the small of her back as he pulls her up into his lap. Tina closes her eyes, getting lost in the familiar feeling of her boyfriend's grasp, and thinking about how in spite of the fact that she and Mike have been together for a year, there are still so many nuances and puzzles she has to unlock. She's amazed that she's never felt like this for anyone before—yes, there was Artie, but he pales in comparison to Mike and what she and Mike have. Tina loves that Mike respects her confidence and self-assuredness, but isn't whipped, so he'll call her out when she's doing something wrong. She loves that he is close to his family and wants her to generate a relationship with his mother. She loves that he wants her to get to know his family because he wants her to feel accepted (especially once they get married, he has noted, and she's thrilled that he's begun thinking that far ahead and the thought of—oh my God, he actually wants to marry her!)

Tina Cohen-Chang is hopelessly in love with a certain Mike Chang and luckily for her, he is just as smitten.

She pauses long enough to ask him, "What did you make for lunch?"

Mike reluctantly breaks the kiss, but he eagerly begins fishing out a plastic container full of Caesar salad, foil-wrapped chicken paninis, a thermos of soup, and a small bottle of lemonade.

"God, I love you," Tina smirks, and she stands up, pulling Mike with her. Mike moves into kiss her again when—

"Well isn't this cute?" comes a slow, cold drawl, and Tina looks up, her mouth opening slightly in shock and fear. A tall masked figure—most likely male—stands in front of them, his gun cocked. Around them, students are screaming and running towards the school, but Mike and Tina are held at gunpoint and both of them are too terrified to move.

"The token Asian couple," the guy spits out venomously, and Tina feels her heart clench with fear. She interweaves her fingers more tightly into Mike's, and she feels him squeeze her hand back, and her heart is beating faster than she ever thought possible. "Aren't you two just precious?"

The next voice is Mike's and Tina tenses as he speaks. His voice is firm and full of resolve, but she can detect the tremor in it. "Please... we haven't done anything to you. Just let us go. You don't have to do this. Don't do anything you'll regret."

"Oh, I won't regret this," the shooter says, his voice still calm and collected. He points the gun at Tina's face, Mike yells, "Tina!" and Tina closes her eyes and screams and the cracking sound of a gunshot fills the air—

The pain she's expecting doesn't come. There is no blinding agony filling her body, her tears are not immediately welling up in her eyes due to the impact of a bullet. Her ears are ringing from the cracking sound of the gunshot, but there's no rush of heat and she doesn't feel blood seeping and the cartridge pierce her skin—

Tina opens her eyes. Mike is on the concrete in front of her, his hands clutching his chest, his face contorted in agony, his teeth gritted. Blood runs through his fingers and his eyes are closed as he yells silent, tormented screams.

"Mike!" Tina's mind explodes with panic, and she watches numbly as the shooter empties two more shots: one into Mike's leg and one into his stomach. Mike is yelping in pain now, his body writhing and flailing, and Tina gets down on the ground next to her boyfriend—her boyfriend, the selfless, sweet boy who stepped in front of a gun and took her bullet—and she's not thinking straight, her mind is whirling, and two more shots ring out and—

The pain meant for her comes in an overwhelming wave, crashing down on her. Her limbs jerk and her head falls back and all is black.

The decorated Mike and Tina cookies lie on the concrete, shattered into pieces.

Kurt and Mercedes are sitting at a table inside the cafeteria when they hear the screams. A freshman Cheerio barges in through the cafeteria doors and clambers frantically under their table. Kurt is trying to stomach the shock and he hears the girl quietly whimpering from where she is pulling chairs to form a barricade and hide herself.

"What is going on?" Mercedes demands loudly. She puts down her sandwich and pushes the chairs out and crawls under the table, Kurt following her lead. "Girl, you better tell me-"

"Shut up!" the cheerleader whispers frantically. Her blue eyes are wide with fear and her eye make-up is smeared and her blonde hair is haphazardly coming out of her ponytail. "He'll hear us! You're gonna get us all killed if you don't shut up!"

"Who will?" Kurt questions, throwing a warning look at Mercedes who looks like she's going to pound the freshman for telling her to shut up. "Please, what's going on?"

"There's a guy," the Cheerio says. Her shoulders are shaking and she cups her hands over her mouth in horror. She breathes heavily and pauses, pulling her hands down as she tries to regain some control. "He's shooting—everyone! I-I was outside and I j-just ran and I didn't—God," her voice chokes and tears spike her eyes, "he s-shot those two—your friends I think—the two Asians-"

"What?" Mercedes nearly screams, and Kurt claps a hand over her mouth. "Mercedes!"

"They were just sitting there." The girl is teetering on the edge of insanity. "They had these—these containers of food and it was a picnic and-" she's babbling, and Kurt is feeling like he got punched in the stomach. He helped Mike prepare that meal for Tina's anniversary and—oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—how is this happening?

Mercedes is suddenly in shambles next to him. She grabs the Cheerio's shoulders and shakes her, shock and disbelief bouncing off every one of her features. "You're lying—you're not serious." Mercedes is gritting her teeth in horror as she shakes the Cheerio, and Kurt is just imagining Mike and Tina—sweet, gentle Tina and kind, silent Mike who stood up for Kurt when he was being bullied by Karofsky—lying in their own blood.

"W-why would I lie about this?" the cheerleader asks, distress dominating her face, and Mercedes lets go of her and chokes back small, sharp sobs.

Kurt closes his eyes and feels his phone vibrate in the pockets of his trousers. Blaine.

His fingers almost numb, he reaches for his phone, and can't make his fingers grasp it. It takes him a few tries but he finally fishes it out, and sees a text from his boyfriend.

From: Blaine Anderson

12:03 P.M.

Hi sweetheart, how's your day? I'm going to swing by your house today—that okay?

And Kurt fumbles with his keypad, his fingers refusing to obey his brain's commands, a million thoughts rushing in his head—there's a shooter at McKinley, he might die today, Mike and Tina—oh God, Mike and Tina...

His fingers slip again and the phone skids out of his grasp. The Cheerio picks it up.

Kurt yells at his mouth to open so he can speak, and he eventually gets control of himself. "You need to call 911 and tell them there's an emergency," he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from shaking. The cheerleader nods and Kurt gives her a silent, thankful nod.

And that's when the cafeteria door breaks open and Kurt is deafened by the sound of a gun being fired.

"Oh my God!" Emma yelps, her terrified eyes huge in her head. Her voice lowers to a whisper, as if she's afraid somebody will hear her. "Will, what was that?"

"Emma," Will orders calmly, trying to control his racing pulse. "Get on the floor."

"Will, I can't do that," Emma says, her expression growing more horrified. "Do you know how many germs the ground has? There's so many-"

Another shot rings out and Will visibly flinches. The other teachers in the teacher's lounge are jumping up in shock. Emma watches as Coach Beiste immediately leaves for the teacher's lounge, saying something about making sure the kids are safe, and Sue Sylvester of all people, hot on her heels.

"Emma, please," Will repeats, trying to keep his voice even. His voice is shaking and he looks like he's about to cry. "I need to know that at least you're safe. Just stay here and don't move."

Emma complies. She gets down onto the cold tile the teacher's lounge, the floor that is scuffed with dark shoe marks and stained from spilled coffee, and visibly shudders as she lies down, her cheek placed down flat and meeting the linoleum surface. Will's hand drifts over hers softly, she feels the slight brush of his lips on her forehead, and then, with soft footsteps, he's gone as well.

Mercedes is pretty sure that God has abandoned her. Maybe God isn't surveying the small speck on his universe that is Lima, and He cares even less about McKinley. Yet, she's closing her eyes and praying in her head to herself. Please God, let me get out of this alive. Please let us be okay. Please let my friends be okay—let Mike and Tina be alive.

And she says this as she hears the click of the gun and the terrified cries from other parts of the cafeteria where several students have hidden under the tables. She hears the quiet drip-drip from someone's knocked over milk carton, and she closes her eyes. The Cheerio next to her starts to let out a whimper, but Mercedes claps a hand over her mouth and gestures for the girl to be quiet.

Kurt pushes his hand into Mercedes's and gives hers a quick squeeze. She shoots him a look of gratitude, which he returns with a thin smile.

It's almost deathly silent, but Mercedes knows the shooter is walking around the lunch area.

Another shot rings out and the silence is shattered by the broken sobs of a boy, but Mercedes, Kurt, and the girl sit in silence.

That is, at least, until they hear the squeaking of the chairs being moved from their fortress. Mercedes's can hear the Cheerio's teeth chattering in terror and she's shaking too. Kurt, however, seems completely numb as he watches in horrified fixation as the chairs are pushed out of the way, exposing him. Mercedes and the Cheerio move toward the other end of the table and silently splay themselves flat on the ground.

The head of a gun meets Kurt's chest.

Kurt blinks, gulping, his face is ashen white and his eyes flicker with fear, but his lips purse and Kurt says, "You don't have to do this."

Mercedes wants to scream. She wants to know where the police are; she wants to go home; she wants to go to Glee and have this be a normal day. She wants to stand up and yell at her best friend; she wants to tell him, It's not the time to be a damn martyr Kurt, now stop trying to reason with the crazy guy; stop being stupid, but she can't do anything so she is quiet and she watches. It's like when she watched The Ring with Sam—she wanted to look away so much but she couldn't, and she can't stop looking right now. Mercedes hates horror flicks, but she would take any of them over this real-life nightmare—her best friend right next to her, vulnerable, being a fucking martyr.

There is Kurt's voice, shaky but strong.

"You may feel alone, but you're not alone. Don't do this."

"You don't know the first thing about anything, Kurt Hummel," comes a cool, calculated reply. "You and your perfect boyfriend and your fucking Glee Club." Then, an ear-splitting explosion.

Mercedes is lying flat on the floor, her ears ringing from the impact, specks of blood—oh God, oh God, it's Kurt's blood—the coppery smell overwhelming her senses. She sees limp legs swathed in trousers and Kurt's hair, and Kurt's body—so still. The Cheerio next to Mercedes who she doesn't even know is breathing hard and crying silent tears, holding onto Mercedes's for dear life, and all Mercedes can focus on is staying quiet and wondering if she's next and Please God.

Author's Note: Please review! Any suggestions? I got a LOT of suggestions for Finchel and Quick but those are the main ones so far. Eeeeep! Who do you guys think should die and who should make it? Please click "Review this story"-it would mean a lot to me. And if anybody would like to see my other Glee fics-try When Puck Met Rachel and Courage. :)