Chapter Four

"Stupid, ugly babies! You think this is hard, try removing your own appendix in a warzone, that's hard!"

Cheerios practice was over for the day, as evidenced by the sight of Sue Sylvester storming towards the school buildings, trying to disguise the fact that she was actually pleased by the squad's progress. The collected Cheerios, still immaculate in their pristine red and white uniforms, heaved a collective sigh of release and prepared to return to the locker rooms.

"Hold it, ladies. We want a word."

There was instantly silence. Some of the new girls had never seen this particular expression on Santana Lopez's face, but the feeling they were getting from the ones who had – barely suppressed terror – clued them in that this was not going to be pretty.

"I'd like to propose a hypothetical dilemma to you girls 'cos, as we all know, a Cheerio isn't just pretty and talented; a true Cheerio is smart too." Santana was leaning against one of the floodlight supports, arms crossed in front of her, the very picture of nonchalance… except for the fury that everyone knew was just barely being kept at bay behind her dark, expressive eyes. Brittany stood next to her, a pace or so behind, standing straight and tall with the impeccable posture of the born dancer. Her piercingly innocent blue eyes peered into every face in turn, and found many wanting.

"I'd like you all to think about which is worse. Let's say, for example, that some of you decide not to slushy a few people… members of the glee club, for example." A few faces sharpened with horrified understanding. "Now, we all know that coach said, and Brittany will quote,"

"'I want them gone, I want them dead, I want them wiped from the face of the planet,'" Brittany intoned, word perfect but speaking in her standard, slow-paced monotone. It amazed Santana that people actually thought Brittany was dumb. How was it so few people realised that no one could be as dumb as Brittany pretended to be without being very, very smart indeed?

"Thank you, Britt. I'd like to remind you all, though, that coach has a bit of a temper, and an explosive one at that. She will yell, she will rant, she will throw things, though usually not actually at someone. But, that having happened, she will quite often let it go. Come up with a new scheme, or even have a complete change of heart for no adequately explained reason. Do you all get this?"

There was no sound, but a bizarrely amusing sight of around thirty heads bobbing in unison, high ponies and bob cuts bouncing just a fraction of a second behind. Santana smothered the laughter she felt at the sight, and continued.

"Contrast that, if you will, with what you know will, without a shadow of a doubt, happen if you do victimise a member of glee again. Because, you see, there are some truly scary people in that club, girls. You've got a significant number of the football team, one or two scarily talented bitches with even more attitude that talent, a few geeks with truly Machiavellian minds when it comes to formulating revenge… and your two head cheerleaders, who you know, absolutely for certain, will make your lives a living hell. And we are not explosive, girls. We are slow burn. We will destroy you over a period of months, or maybe years, never relenting in our pursuit of justice.

"Oh, and those of you who never met her, have you all at least heard about Quinn Fabray? The last head cheerleader? Who got pregnant last year, thrown out of her home and now walks around with a permanent smile on her face, looking like a freaking angel descended to earth? Yeah? Now, how many of you are completely, one hundred percent certain that she is, like, totally balanced, and completely unlikely to go on a vicious and bloody killing spree if pushed too far?"

There was no sound, except for the wind picking up as evening drew up on the football field. Santana smiled.

"I thought so. So, the conundrum is this: the possible wrath of Sue, or your sure and certain destruction at the hands of a group of maladjusted maniacs with sheet music?"

"Lord Tubbington is like, really pissed off, guys," Brittany put in, her face looking almost sad. "I really don't know what he's capable of when he's like this, and I don't know where he goes at night. I worry, I really do." She shook her head mournfully, and Santana mentally punched the air. Brittany was just so fucking perfect.

"Go, girls, and bear us in mind next time you buy a slushy."

The girls set off at a run, but Santana's voice cracked over the herd like a whiplash. "Oh, Janine? Quick word, please?"

The hapless girl walked forward stiffly, apparently braced for a blow. Santana smiled in her trademark terrifying way. The younger girl, a freshman recruit, was slightly taller than Santana, with vivid, curly red hair pulled back in a scrunchy and a few delicate freckles across her pale face. Despite being taller, she recoiled when Santana spoke as though she'd actually been struck.

"Now, I know that you were involved in a group slushy. I know it happened, I know who was there… and I know that you, Janine, kicked Rachel Berry rather hard when she was lying on the floor, completely unable to breathe."

Janine's eyes darted left and right, as though searching for an escape route. "Wh- what are you talking a-"

"Can it, big red." Santana's voice lost all its fake sweetness as she pushed herself off her post and got right into Janine's space, her accusing finger so close that the redhead's eyes crossed trying to look at it. "Santana knows everything – a mantra to live by. Now, I know bitchy. I know it well, and for totally obvious reasons."

Brittany didn't really like it when Santana talked about herself that way, and reached forward to stroke the smaller girl's arm briefly. Santana's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, unable to resist her girlfriend's touch, but refocused instantly.

"Here's what you need to learn. Bitchy isn't necessarily a bad thing. Certain people can turn it into an art form." She couldn't resist preening slightly, and could almost hear Britt roll her eyes behind her. "But, only so much is tolerated. Clever bitchiness, that's fine. Bitch to your heart's content, although be aware, if your bitching comes onto my radar again, I will ends you. No one can out-bitch me." At this she actually jabbed her finger into Janine's forehead, and the freshman staggered back as if she had been shoved.

"But, and I will say this only once, violence is not, is never, the true way of the bitch. It's like Zen, girl, it's all about attitude, and never about fucking kicking girls when they're lying in a puddle of slushy and can't breathe!"

Brittany darted forward and held Santana back, as the Latina lunged forward, intent on laying into the younger girl. Janine cowered, true terror in her eyes. Santana stopped, took a deep breath and stood up straight. Her eyes shot daggers at their target.

"Get out of here, Janine. And if I were you, I'd keep an especially low profile, because eventually, even Brittany's patience is going to wear just a little thin. Know what I mean?" Janine nodded like she wanted her head to fall off, then sprinted for the showers. Brittany smiled, wrapping her arms around Santana from behind and placing a soft kiss on her girlfriend's neck, just below her ear, causing the Latina to shiver.

"And that is how you use your super powers for good instead of evil, S," she murmured happily. Santana turned in her arms.

"I think I probably would have fallen to the dark side a long time ago without you, B," she muttered, unusually open and vulnerable, even if Brittany was the only one there. The blonde smiled warmly, and placed a kiss on the lips she loved more than anyone's.

"Come on, San, let's go home. This is where the superhero gets their reward."

Santana brightened instantly, the familiar glint back in her dark eyes.

"For reals?"

Brittany and Santana turned and walked towards the parking lot, pinkies as ever linked, secure in the knowledge that no cheerleader would bother Rachel Berry for a long time.

~GLEE~

Rachel let out a deep breath as she stood in the tiny, not-really sanctuary of her locker. Her shoulders were hunched under her loose grey jumper, her hands, arms and face all turned into the tiny aperture that offered a tiny piece of momentary safety in the halls of McKinley. Or it had until a hand pushed her too far in, causing her to cry out as she hit her head and arms on the metal frame. The hand wasn't finished though. It then grabbed hold of her sweater and yanked hard, sending her stumbling back the width of the corridor, her back slamming into the lockers opposite hers. She winced, and then felt like screwing her eyes tight shut, because there, slushy in hand and smirk solidly in place, was Dave Karofsky.

The huge guy sneered at Rachel, who felt something inside her sink about a mile. She knew that Quinn was trying to get people to be nicer, and she really appreciated it; after all, all she had ever done here was try to keep out of everyone's face. But Karofsky went out of his way to make her life miserable, although, to be fair, he didn't discriminate: he acted the same way to all members of the glee club.

He stalked towards her, easily three times the size of the small girl, and drew his arm back. "Doctor Dave's in, freak. Want some medicine?"

"Why can't you leave her alone, Karofsky?"

Rachel had been half hoping that Quinn might come and stop what was happening, although she knew she couldn't count on her friend all the time. What she never expected was for Kurt to appear and get in Karofsky's face about it. She noticed in passing that the slim boy had already removed his jacket and shoulder bag, presumably in preparation for what he knew must be coming.

As Kurt stood next to Rachel, the two glee members trembling slightly, Dave's expression changed. At first it had been one of slightly cruel, malicious amusement. Now…

Now it was dangerous. Fury and hate blazed on top of other emotions too deep and too complex for Rachel to understand, but she thought she saw something like desperation in his gaze.

"Hummel. I thought you'd learn your lesson by now." He spoke through gritted teeth, a primal, almost animal snarl that made Rachel flinch. She had never been as impressed by someone as she was when Kurt didn't recoil but just kept staring, daring the other boy to do something.

"I learned my lesson about bullies a long time before I met you, you stupid ape. I learned that they're the ones who are sub-human, and not even worth noticing."

Rachel gasped and saw Karofsky nearly crush the slushy cup in his hand as the rage built. "You'll pay for that, fag."

"Not as much as you've obviously paid already. I mean, all those steroids must have shrunk your brain as well as your balls."

Karofsky roared, his arm pulling back for what was sure to be an extra-vicious slushy. There was a collective gasp, as by now the confrontation had built quite an audience, including Quinn, who was trying to fight her way to the front of the crowd.

For Rachel, though, everything changed to slow motion. She watched as the cup drew back, and through her mind flashed something she'd once heard that some ancient Greek had once said… Pythagoras, maybe?

'Give me a lever and a place to stand, and I can move the world.'

As the cup began to come forward, clearly going to dump its entire contents right in Kurt's face, Rachel darted forwards, quicker than she thought she'd ever moved before, and placed two fingers on the bottom of the cup, standing carefully to Karofsky's side, and pushed hard. The slushy, out of Dave's already lax control, sped up, moving too far under the combined force of the football player and the loser, going too far in its arc, and when the freezing gloop eventually left the cup the centrifugal force made it keep going and land… right on top of Karofsky's head.

There was a moment of utter stillness, and those who watched shared a common thought: That girl is about eighty-five pounds of dead meat. They were unable to look away, perhaps thinking they might be called on as witnesses to the inevitable murder trial. Even Quinn, struggling to get to her two friends still, froze in place, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Karofsky wiped his face, shaking his head like a dog to clear the slushy from his eyes and face, before turning that same, maniacal glare on Rachel, his fists clenched, fully prepared to pound the little nothing into the ground. Rachel, though, was having something of an out-of-body experience, quite unable to believe it as she stood defiant, hands on hips and glaring every bit as murderously back at the lumbering jock.

"So what, now you're going to beat me up? Feel free, I've had worse. You've already lost, though, because you don't scare us anymore, Dave. Go back to your teammates and enjoy your insecurities in the comfort of the most blatantly homoerotic game I've ever seen. Just leave the rest of us the hell alone!"

And she grabbed Kurt's arm and marched with him down the hall, the crowd parting in front of them and Quinn hurrying behind, leaving Karofsky looking completely blank behind them, unable to process what could possibly have just happened.

~GLEE~

The two girls and Kurt were the first into the choir room, and Rachel's cheeks were flushed with breathless laughter as the adrenaline washed over her. She grinned widely at Quinn, who felt her heart fluttering in her chest at the sight: Rachel was always pretty despite herself, and had had to work at hiding the fact, but looking as she did now and beaming happily at her, Quinn thought she looked positively radiant. She cursed herself for her bad timing: what a time to get her first real crush on a girl, and what a girl to crush on: a timid, damaged girl she was still trying to persuade into a simple friendship. And a girl who probably wasn't even gay…

Kurt was staring at Rachel, his huge eyes impossibly wide and his immaculate hair slightly ruffled from the dash down the halls. "That… that was so cool! Rachel, you were amazing! Thank you!"

Rachel turned to him, her smile diminishing now she wasn't looking at Quinn and her natural shyness reasserted itself.

"Not as cool as you; it was amazing the way you stood up to him like that. Thanks for stepping in."

"Yeah, well, Karofsky and I go way back. I've been dealing with him for… I don't know, a long time."

Rachel looked sharply at Kurt, who was now staring blankly into space, as though remembering something, and not something pleasant from the expression on his face. His voice had been laden with bitterness, and Rachel wondered just how much crap Kurt had been taking from the big guy. She decided to keep an eye open: she owed it to Kurt, who had never been mean to her and who was one of her fellow founder members of the club.

Quinn had been able to think properly once Rachel looked at Kurt, and now she was frowning. "I just hope this doesn't come back to haunt either of you. Karofsky can be a mean son of a bitch, and he does not like being embarrassed."

Rachel shrugged. "It had to be done. What happens, happens. We'll deal with it."

Quinn was going to say something else, urge the smaller girl to be cautious anyway, but at that moment the rest of glee started filing into the room. Quinn caught Santana's eye, who gave her a tiny smile and a nod before sitting in a seat right next to Brittany's, the two of them talking in low voices no one else could hear. Quinn took a deep breath, knowing that at least the Cheerios were no longer a problem.

Rachel tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned a smile on her new friend. Rachel grinned, a very slightly mischievous smile that made strange things happen in Quinn's stomach.

"I just wanted to say, I'm looking forward to your song. Good luck!"

Rachel and Kurt took two seats at the front, while Quinn remained standing. A few people noticed Rachel sitting at the front and talking so animatedly, but nothing was said: Quinn had passed on Rachel's request that people not make a big deal out of it if things started changing with her. Mr. Schue came sweeping in as usual at that point, smiling broadly at everyone.

"Okay, guys, how's everyone doing?"

"Good thanks, Mr. Schue," Mercedes replied.

"Anyone up for singing a song this afternoon?"

Mike stood up, breathing heavily from nerves. "Can I have a go, Mr. Schue?"

Will was surprised, but pleasantly so, and smiled at the tall Asian guy. "Sure Mike, be our guest."

Mike stepped out to the front. He didn't say anything, but smiled warmly at Tina, who beamed back, encouragement evident in her expression. And so, Mike began to sing, a little hesitantly at first, but it was obvious he'd been working hard and had improved a lot.

'What would you do if I sang out of tune,

Would you stand up and walk out on me?

Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,

And I'll try not to sing out of key.'

The song was perfect for him, and obviously Tina thought so too. In fact, as more and more people joined in with the chorus, the thought struck pretty much everyone that the song was perfect for all of them. The last chorus, as Mike danced slowly with Tina, was belted by everyone with so much feeling that Will could feel moisture gathering in his eyes.

'I'll get by with a little help from my friends.'

Everyone laughed at the end of the song, and Tina jumped up to give Mike a kiss before sitting down next to him, broad grins on both their faces. Will clapped his hands to draw attention, but didn't have to ask the question before Kurt stood up.

"I couldn't think of anything to do for this assignment, until yesterday. Finn's song really inspired me, and something that happened earlier," he looked meaningfully at Rachel, "confirmed that this choice is the right one. Tina, Mercedes, Quinn, would you mind singing backup?"

Mercedes stood, as did the other two, but frowned. "But, what are we doing? We haven't rehearsed or anything."

Kurt grinned, surprisingly wolfishly. "Oh, you know this one." He gestured to Brad, and to Finn who had stationed himself at the drum kit, and the music burst outwards, rapid piano chords in a minor key. As the three singers recognised it they smiled broadly, especially Quinn, who now saw what Kurt had meant when he looked at Rachel that way. And then Kurt began to sing:

'Where have all the good men gone,

And where are all the gods?

Where's the street-wise Hercules

To fight the rising odds?

Isn't there a white knight

Upon a fiery steed?

Late at night I toss and I turn,

And I dream of what I need:'

The room literally erupted into the chorus. The guys didn't join in singing, but instead carried the girls around as they sang, while Kurt, powering out the tune, stepped from chair to chair, before jumping into a power slide, something so unlike him that even Will roared with laughter.

'I need a hero!

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night,

He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast,

And he's gotta be fresh from the fight.

I need a hero!

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light,

He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon,

And he's gotta be larger than life!'

The song ended in laughter, but everyone had loved it. Kurt's impersonation of Bonnie Tylor was scarily accurate in places. Mr. Schue wiped a tear from his eyes as he brought everyone back again.

"Kurt, I'm so impressed. Before today, if I had had to name a flaw you had when it came to performing, I'd have said that you can be unwilling to step out of your comfort zone, but right now I can't even see it, so great job." More cheering followed, and Will was pleased to see Finn clapping his soon-to-be step brother on the shoulder while Puck patiently waited with a fist outstretched while Kurt worked out he wanted him to bump it.

"So, anyone else want their turn?"

Quinn stepped forward, smiling brightly. "I want to sing a song to Rachel today… I know we've all let you down in the past, Rach, but we want to change that. I'm hoping the song speaks for all of us. Also, I'm sorry it's a song we already did last year, and to Tina who sang the solo; I hope you don't take any offence if I give it a whirl."

Brad began playing, and Rachel felt her heart clench as she recognised the notes, that gentle pattern that they had, indeed, sung last year. Quinn's voice was different from Tina's, though. Tina's voice had an enchanting, clear, almost innocent tone to it, but Quinn's was warmer, an almost husky edge making the sound smoother, and Rachel could almost feel the music sliding down her spine like liquid sunshine, while the words, heartfelt and honest, blazed themselves across her mind.

'You with the sad eyes,

Don't be discouraged.

Oh I realise

It's hard to take courage.

In a world full of people you can lose sight of it all,

And the darkness inside you can make you

Feel so small.'

Rachel realised she was crying, and realised that a lot of the glee club were looking at her, wondering what the hell was going on. But at that moment, as Rachel watched the beautiful, wise and kind girl who was her first real friend sing to her, she realised that, for the first time ever, she didn't care. For once, she didn't mind people looking. Let them look. This was just too perfect a moment to waste on what other people thought.

'But I see your true colours

Shining through,

I see your true colours,

And that's why I love you,

So don't be afraid to let them show:

Your true colours,

True colours,

Are beautiful like a rainbow.'

As the song ended, for the second time in two days, there was silence in the room at the end of a performance. Will wondered what to do, and then realised. He inclined his head, meeting eyes with everyone except Quinn and Rachel, and then simply left the room. Tact was something few teenagers know well, but the glee club got the message, even Santana who was dying to make a snarky comment. This time, it wasn't worth it.

~GLEE~

Ha! Cliffy! Oooh, I'm so evil. Think Mr. Burns fingers.

Ok, I don't own anything, including Glee or the songs used in the chapter. I don't know who originally did True Colours, and I know that Ringo Starr did sing I'll Get By, but I don't know if he did it first. I'm pretty sure, though, that Bonnie Tylor is responsible for the version of Holding Out for a Hero that everyone knows, so blame her.

Still no beta. If no one's interested, I'll just keep posting it like this, there's no skin off my nose. Thanks for reviews. I won't ask for more, I kind of hate that, but those I do get are appreciated.

And yes, you might have guessed, but the idea of Quinn singing True Colours to Rachel is basically the original idea that led to this fic, hence its title. Go figure, it takes me four chapters to get to the point…

Peace out, y'all.

Damn, I can't even get away with that in writing.

Tom