Disclaimer: I don't own SM or associated characters. I do own Machelle.

Serena watched the mirror, waiting for the change. It always happened and it seemed to be getting more and more frequent. As she expected, her face did change. "You know not to fight it now, don't you? You know that I'll make you stronger," the voice was cajoling. "You know I can make you better. You're weak without me. You need me." She shook her head. "No." "Yes," the reflection nodded. "You do. You know you do." Serena started sobbing. "NO!!! No, no, no, no."

Ilene stared at the bathroom mirror, it had been shattered, everyone denied involvement, but she knew someone did it. She suspected Sammy. Serena certainly knew better. She started to head down to the kitchen but stopped in the hallway. The mirror and all of the glass in the picture frames had been broken. "SAMMY!" she screamed. He came running. "What is it—" he broke off when he saw all the glass. "What happened here?" "You tell me," she said, using her best I'm-your-mother-I-know-every-move-you-make voice. He gulped. "I don't know. Maybe Serena does, she went tearing out of here like a bat out of...a cave," he finished lamely under her glare.

Serena stared at the ground as she walked toward Machelle's office. Looking up was dangerous. Everywhere she looked she saw it. It wasn't her. She knew it wasn't her. She just wasn't sure what it was. She bumped into someone and looked up to apologize. She froze when she saw Darien's face. No, not his face his sunglasses. She saw her reflection. "No," she whispered, backing away. As expected the face started to change. "NO!" She turned and ran as fast as she could in the other direction, not bothering to see his reaction. She reached the park and sat down next to the glassy lake. It had once been a favorite spot of hers. She sighed, feeling an old peace returning. As long as she didn't look at the lake she would be fine. The face couldn't change her if it couldn't see her.

Serena. She jerked and looked around. No one. Serena, look at me. "No," she whispered, her voice breaking. Serena, I want to help you. I want to be your friend. "Please, just go away." You know I can't do that. That would make me just like them. They didn't want to be your friends. They were just using you. I want to help you be better. "Stop," she sobbed. "Please stop." Look at me. I'll take it all away, all the pain and all of the loneliness. I can make it go away. She lifted her head from her knees. "Really?" Oh, yes. I can help you so much. I'll help you show them. I'll help you show them all. You will be the best. But, you have to help me first. "How?" She was staring at the reflection in the water now.

Darien watched Serena, his arms aching to hold her. "Don't do it. You'll just end up hurting her." Then she started to talk to herself, he was too far away to hear what she was saying, but he caught tone of it. She started to cry, and then, a few minutes later she turned and stared fixedly at the lake. After nodding a few times she stood up, dusted herself off and headed back the way she came. Darien stayed a moment longer, burning a picture of her onto his mind. It would comfort him during the many lonely nights ahead.

He finally turned and headed back to the city, still deeply confused about her. He ran into her friends on his way to the hospital he was interning at. "Hi Darien." He stared at them. "What?" Mina asked, self consciously running her fingers through her hair. "Well, I thought you'd probably be a little bit upset with me about Serena." Lita took a menacing step forward. "What did you do to her?" "Didn't she tell you." Raye coughed. "We, uh, we haven't seen Serena in a few days." "Why?"

"We played a harmless practical joke on her and she flipped out." "What kind of a joke." They turned scarlet. "We told her, as a joke, that she was out of the group. We expected her to laugh it off, but she didn't. She flipped out and ran off. When we went to her house to apologize, Ilene told us to get off the property or she would call the police." As they said this they walked into the arcade and sat down. They ordered and kept talking for a few minutes when a man in a suit came in. he walked up to Andrew and spoke to him for a few minutes. Andrew glanced at them and waved a hand in their direction. He turned and headed straight toward them.

"Are you," he glanced at a paper. "Mina Aino, Raye Hino, Lita Kino, Amy Mizuno and Darien Chiba?" They nodded and he handed each of them a document before walking purposely toward the door. Raye was the first one to look at hers. Her jaw dropped when she read it. "What is it?" Amy asked. "I'm being sued. By Serena." "What?!" They all rushed to open theirs. "Emotional distress, battery," Amy threw hers onto the table. "The list goes on." "We have to convince her to drop it," Mina said frantically. "How? Her parents won't let us near her. Her lawyer would just add harassment to the list," Lita replied despondently. Darien was shaking his head. "I can't believe it." "Believe it. I suggest we all lawyer up." Their eyes widened in unbelief. "This is awful. I can't believe this is happening," Mina was saying over and over.

The bell over the door chimed and Sammy Tsukino headed toward the counter, change jingling in his pocket. Amy got up and went over to talk to him. "Hi Sammy." He looked away from her and at the wall. "My parents say I'm not allowed to talk to you." "Why?" He glanced at her and looked away again. "They said you're a bad person, and that you did bad things to my sister." The bell chimed again and a sharp voice said, "Sammy, get over here." She turned and saw Serena standing in the doorway. Sammy grumbled, but did as she said. Amy opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come when she saw Serena's eyes. They were lifeless, cold. In her eyes there was a deep hatred that she'd never thought another human capable of. Serena gave her one last, lingering look and left without a word.

AN: Tell me what you think. I hope you all like it, and I hope you all see where I'm trying to go with the character development. I accept constructive criticism, but not flames.