A/N: The whole religion issue with Glee has been bumping around in my mind since early last season. Grilled Chesus kind of catapulted this idea into my head… I'm going to try to write one every night, but no guarantees. Graduate school is kicking my butt. These can be read/written in any order, so I'm going alphabetically.

Artie has fascinated me pretty much the whole time, and the consensus seems to be that he is/was Catholic. This chapter is pretty much full of religious references, which may or may not be too obscure... I admit to being a Catholic choir geek. The first part of this chapter is, in part, dedicated to FMT, Fr. Doyle, Fr. Pat and Fr. John...

Music: Mass of Light Gloria and the Beatles Lady Madonna.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did, Mark Salling would sing WAY more solos. I also do not own Phillip Pullman's Dark Materials, or any of the songs I reference here.

ARTIE ABRAMS: FORMER DONUT CATHOLIC

Artie runs his fingers over the thin coin on the long gold chain around his neck, then reaches back and undoes the clasp. He twists, and glances up at the empty spot above his bed. A nail has been pounded into the yellow wall, and there is a faded place in the shape of a cross outlined on the wall.

"What kind of stupid person decorates with a torture device?" He had asked his mother when he begged her to take down the crucifix that had been there until a few months ago. "I might as well hang up an electric chair or a noose."

Mrs. Abrams had shuttered at the mention of such things, and had ignored his request. It had taken begging his younger sister, Bex, for a few days to take the down the offending decoration and hide it in her closet. If his mother noticed, she didn't say anything.

She had to have seen the signs, though. Artie has been drifting away from her ancestral faith since, well, he's not sure. It wasn't after the accident. He eight, and even though things were unfair, he wasn't angry at God, exactly. He was angry that a man who was drinking got behind the wheel and ran into the car. He was actually thankful to be alive. Besides, church was the place where you got donuts every Sunday morning. And, his parents would never buy him donuts otherwise. He liked the round ones with the sprinkles.

In the rehab center where he had spent half a year, he'd gone to mass regularly. Even though he had only been eight years old, he had tried to pay attention to what the priest was saying, and apply it to his life. He'd liked Father Pat. He tiny man was cheerful, and had an excellent sense of humor, despite his disability. Father Pat had promised Artie that he, and his neice, would take the boy trick-or-treating. The priest in his Goonies' costume, Bailey dressed as Princess Jasmine and Artie in a generic race car driver outfit had taken more candy than Artie had ever seen. Father Pat had been the first priest who Artie had ever known who had been a person, too. He had been the one to give Artie the St. Jude metal he wore for so many years.

After Artie returned home, his father continued with the quiet sort of Catholicism that had always pervaded their home. They said grace with dinner, and Artie, Bex and Cecy knew the prayers by wrote memorization, as much from CCD as from his parents. His mother, though, reverted to a brand of Catholicism which reminded her of her youth. Pictures of Pope John Paul II appeared in the house, along with holy cards. Artie remembered spending one advent mass trading Bex two St. Francises and a Little Flower for a St. Sabastian because of the cool arrows.

When Artie was twelve, their priest left, and took the music minister with him. The new music director and priest didn't like the mass setting Artie had always known. Suddenly, the upbeat music he had always known, was replaced by something somber and painful. There was no more joy in the beginning of mass, no more solemnity in the consecration, no more comfort in the hymns. The parish moved toward more contemporary music. Artie didn't disagree that God was awesome, but he sometimes wished that they could go back to the Canticles.

When he was thirteen, he read Phillip Pullmans' Golden Compass series a second time. This time, he actually understood it. And, he wondered what it meant. Part of him knew it was meant as a work of fiction, but a small part wondered what his daemon would look like. The church stopped buying donuts, and the priest started preaching fire and brimstone.

When he was fourteen, Artie told his mother that he was too old for Catechism, and that he wasn't ready to get confirmed. He has trouble reconciling the God who loves his people and lets children in Africa starve to death, or drunken idiots hit mothers driving their sons home from soccer practice.

At fifteen, Artie stopped going to mass. He dodged more conformation classes. He begged Bex to take down his crucifix.

At sixteen, Artie watches the pain religion is causing Kurt. He isn't sure he still believes in God, and he cannot accept his mother's faith with its strict rules. He takes off Father Pat's metal. He has worn it for so long, his neck feels naked without it. He turns on his iPod and scrolls through the songs, until he finds the Beatles. He hits play, and lays back on his bed, staring at the spot over his head. He should really put up a poster there, he thinks. Maybe a donut…

Please Review! Is this too similar to what has already been put out there? Too weird? Should I continue? Thanks!