So this is just a super-duper angsty fic about how everyone reacted to Sammy's death. Not just the main characters. For example, the first three chapters are the chicken man (Who I've made into a total douchebag, just wait), Ms. Rayne, and Zach.

In one day everything changed. There was drama before, but that was nothing. Not compared to what happened after that big metal vehicle struck a warm body….

A single accident ended one life- or more- and slowly damaged many others. This is the story of what happened to everyone after the crash.

Chicken Suit Man-

He had a wife. Two children, nice house, fuel efficient car, even the white picket fence. He donned the suit three times a week to help his brother start a business. What the man in yellow never expected was to end up here, telling two cops his story as the EMT's sealed a black body bag over the cold corpse of a teenager, who was running with his iPod, headphones blasting. The EMTs had pronounced the boy dead on the scene at 9:18 exactly. They didn't tell him anything, but that didn't stop him from finding it all out.

The man heard the first piece of information that night on his TV.

"Today, at approximately nine AM, a call was placed to emergency services to report a hit-and-run resulting in the death of a minor."

His wife clicked her tongue, fiddling with the silver cross around her neck. "Why, isn't that sad…"

But the man in yellow was ignoring her. He could only see that morning.

There were a few teenage boys who came by a lot while he was there in the morning. There was a mixed race boy, an Asian one, and three Caucasian ones. He didn't really know who had been running for more than a month, because that's how long he'd been working the spot.

The first boy he saw that morning was on the phone, talking to some girl. Tina? Tamara? Tasha? Who knows? The boy took a puff off his inhaler and ran off, blasting his headphones. A car whizzed speeding by.

He never knew it was there, until it was gone. The boy shrugged, apparently unfazed by the close call. Only ten minutes later the second boy came through. The first and the second were both Caucasian. This one had been coming alone for the past few weeks. He didn't seem local. He was blasting music through his headphones. 'What is with teens and loud music‽' the chicken thought. He turned away briefly to collect more flyers, when the sickening crack of shattering bone and contorting flesh rang out behind him. Chicken Man whirled around, eyes widening at the contorted shape on the ground. It was barely recognizable as a human. He just caught the numbers on the license plate of the car rapidly speeding away. He quickly dialed A&E, speaking into his phone about the condition of the boy on the ground, downed by a car he never knew existed. Until it killed him. He was pronounced dead on the scene at 9: 34 exactly. The chicken was sent home after giving his story.

He tuned back into reality. The story was still on. "Though the body was unidentifiable, it is believed that the deceased was a student of the National Academy of Ballet, by the name of Samuel Lieberman. The chicken squeezed his eyes closed, unwilling to see the picture he was sure was on the screen. Probably a school picture of the boy he saw dying on the street. In unrelated, but tragically similar news, a 17 year old dancer visiting from Italy for the Prix de Fonteyn reported missing-" He couldn't take it, and turned off the TV. Too much tragedy.

That night, he crept out of bed, grabbing his laptop. He hit the icon for Google Chrome, searching the name from the news, 'Samuel Lieberman'.

The first three articles were about the crash. The fourth was a class list for the National Academy. The fifth was gold though, for a man ready to run himself ragged over a boy he never knew. The Facebook page of a boy who had a picture of a spray painted pointe shoe for his icon. The man in yellow couldn't look away.

"Samuel Lieberman is ready for the Prix de Fonteyn."

"Samuel Lieberman is now single."

"Samuel Lieberman is an X, and a 6.9"

"Samuel Lieberman is now in a relationship."

"Samuel Lieberman is dating Ollie."

"Samuel Lieberman is coming out."

The last three made his eyes widen, but made him breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, he had watched a person die. At first he thought it was tragic, a teen killed too young. But it was just some fag anyways.

AN: Gah. The last part is NOT my personal opinion, (I just needed a way to end it and figured 'Ooh people still think like this…. So let's put that in!) as you will see later in the piece when I rant about Sammy and Ollie dating. And Abigail's relationship with Sammy. And Christian's over-analysis of one line in the show, and its relationship with an action in season one.