Rachel walked down the hall towards her room once her last class had finished. She still couldn't access her powers and could feel the shield around her mind. It would still be a few hours before it unraveled and she could reach out again with her mind. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't notice three boys begin to flank her and it wasn't until they grabbed her that she jumped into action. At first she was able to maneuver out of their grasp and began to fight them off, but when the boys used their powers she was helpless. With no telepathy to stop them, they had free reign over her. She managed to trip one of the boys with a foot sweep and rolled away from another when he tried to grab her, but as she tried to make a break for it the third boy teleported in front of her and blocked her path. The next moment she found herself slammed against the lockers.

"Hey midget! How come you aren't using your Jedi mind tricks on us, hmmm?" one of the boys asked with a smirk. "We came prepared, just in case." Rachel stayed quiet as the second boy held her stiffly against a set of lockers with his telekinesis. "We're going to teach you that freaks like you should know their place. Let's go for a walk." She knew she had no choice, but to follow along until she saw another method of escape or until her telepathy returned. The boys led her out to the shed near the edge of the school and opened the door. She looked at the boys with a brow raised at them. Their leader just smirked and grabbed her arm, staring straight at her for a moment before shoving her into the darkness.

"Have fun with your memories, loser," the boy said as he shut the door with a snicker. She heard a chain being locked and the boys' laughter before the sound became faint and she was left alone. Rachel wondered what the boy had meant by his final words as she began to try to look for a way out. She tried opening the door, but it was held closed solidly. Kicking it and ramming it with her shoulder a couple of times had only ended up with her being sore and no closer to opening the door. With a sigh she slid down the door, closed her eyes, and listened to see if anyone was coming by so that she could call out to them.

It took a few minutes, but she heard a faint nose. It sounded like it was coming from inside the shed though. Opening her eyes, she jumped up and banged against the metal door behind her. In front of her were the teenage boys she remembered from so long ago. Their bodies mangled beyond recognition, but they shuffled towards her. This could be real could it? Is this what the boy meant by memories? The brunette closed her eyes to block out the sights and sounds, figuring that she could ignore it until someone came by. It wasn't until she felt the hand on her arm and smelled the fetid breath that she freaked out, pushing the dead boy away with a cry and backed off to another corner of the shed. "This can't be real...no..." she told herself.

"Oh, but it is...murderer. You killed us without any hesitation and you didn't even face up to it," the bodies hissed out, shambling towards her. She scrambled backwards until her body hit another wall and she began calling out for someone's help. She smashed her fist against the metal to get someone to hear her, all the while keeping an eye on the distance between herself and the corpses. "You heartless killer..." She saw them getting nearer again and ran to another area of the shed, tripping over various objects in her way. She slipped on some kind of garden tool, falling to the ground and cutting her hands but picked herself up quickly increasing the distance between herself and the boys.

"You were hurting my father! You wouldn't stop! I begged you!" Rachel cried out, feeling hot tears begin to trail down her face. "It wasn't my fault, I didn't know how to control it!" She backed up against another wall, clawing and banging against the metal hoping that someone, anyone would hear her cries. Finally, she moved back towards the door, slamming against it as hard she possible. She was shaking and hysterical. The brunette could feel the corpses getting closer, but no one was coming to her aid. Curling into herself, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly rocking back and forth while murmuring to herself.

When Rachel hadn't shown up to training, Puck had just assumed that she'd decided she had better things to do with her time, than waste it knocking him on his ass. He'd gone to her room, the library and the common room in search for the girl, before finally asking a few people if they'd seen her. He'd just given up and resolved to chew her out the next day, when some junior boy he didn't recognize walked stopped as he was passing Puck. "I heard you ask about that Berry chick earlier. You might wanna look near the lake... You didn't hear it from me," the boy said in a hushed tone, before continuing down the hall.

Puck stood there, confused for a moment, before heading out though the front door. He made his way to the lake, and looked around. He thought maybe the guy had just been messing with him, until he spotted a senior from the English class he was in last year, leaning on the doorway of the old canoe shed. He had a nasty sneer on his face, and looked like he was guarding something.

He walked over. "Hey, Jagielski... What you doin'?"

"What's it to you?" He asked defensively.

Puck was pretty sure he heard a noise, coming from inside. "What was that?" He used his most threatening tone. "Jagielski... Move. Now."

Rachel could feel them hovering over her, the stench of rotting flesh invaded her nose and she swallowed to keep from being sick. She dug her nails into her arms, drawing blood as she buried her face in her knees. "This isn't real...it can't be real..." she continued mumbling over and over again. This was a living nightmare and she had no way out. Maybe this was fate finally catching up to her. She was finally paying for all of her mistakes. The only things she hoped was that it would be over quickly.

"You gonna make me, Puckerman?" The other boy challenged.

"I will if I have to... Don't make me," he warned.

"Why do you even care?"

"Look Jagielski, I've been spoiling for a fight all day. Are you really giving me an opportunity?" He asked, knowing he could easily take the guy. "Really?" He stepped into Jagielski's space.

The two boys stood nose to nose, in silence for a long time, neither willing to back down at first. "Fine," Jagielski shoved past Puck. "Have fun with the arrogant little freak," he threw over his shoulder" as he walked away.

Puck wasn't listening. He was already too busy kicking the hell out of the flimsy wooden door.

Rachel heard a banging coming from the door, but she was too busy trying to block out the feeling of the hands on her arms and the images in her head. She whimpered as she felt them grab her, dragging her back from the door. She heard the whispers in her ears: murderer, killer, remorseless, violent, undeserving, twisted, wrong. She trembled violently, wrapped around herself as she bit into her lip the pain only giving a brief reprieve from the nightmare around her.

Finally, he broke through the door, to find Rachel curled up on the floor, in the far corner. She was cowering away from something he couldn't see.

"Rachel?" He rushed forward, crouching down next to her. He hesitated before touching her, but against his better judgment, he laid his hand on her shoulder. She just looked so scared.

Rachel felt another touch this one more gripping and real. She screamed out, figuring it was her last chance. She had no strength left, but she desperately tried to bat the hand away. "Not my fault!" she cried out, shaking her head back and forth violently. The only words coming out of her mouth were a consistent stream of not my fault as she flailed.

The voices had stopped and she could no longer smell the stench of death surrounding her, but still she refused to open her eyes. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth after biting into her lip and the pain in her hands and arms was becoming slightly more pronounced. "I'm not...I didn't...not my fault..."

"Rachel... It's ok. It's me, Puck. It's Noah." He stopped touching her, not wanting to frighten her any further. "You're safe now," he told her.

Rachel lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at Puck. She didn't say anything, simply stared at him as her tears ran down her face and she shivered. The boys were gone, but their words and the memories of what she had done stuck with her. She could still smell the rotting flesh and see their visage.

"I'll never be safe..." she felt sick, but her body wouldn't move.

He didn't know what she meant by that, but he didn't ask.

"Okay," he said, quietly. "Come on, let's get you out of here." He carefully helped her to her feet.

Rachel flinched at the touch, but allowed him to help her. She stared at nothing, just kept her gaze straight ahead. She didn't feel the pain anymore, didn't feel the blood staining her clothes and dripping from her fingertips. She felt empty and numb, void of anything. Once on her feet, the brunette swayed violently, quickly rushing outside to be sick. She felt her whole frame shake. There was no energy left in her body. She tried to block out the images in her mind, but the words kept playing over and over like a broken record. She cried silently and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

Puck just followed her outside and waited for her to finish throwing up. When she had, he walked back over to her. "Come on, we gotta get you cleaned up, and healed," he aid, waiting for her to straighten up again, from where she was standing, doubled over.

Straightening up on wobbly legs, Rachel just nodded and followed Puck silently. She felt void of anything, completely numb. She just wanted to hide in her room forever. To block out the world and curl into herself. She felt dirty...she wanted to scrub away the memories and the words, hoping that maybe she could clean the blackness from her soul.

"Have a seat," he instructed, waving his hand toward the nearest bed, and busying himself with collecting supplies to clean her injuries, before he'd heal them.

"I'm really sorry about this," he said, wincing as he gently took a hold of one of her bloodied hands. "S'gonna sting a whole bunch... Sorry," he repeated.

Rachel sat down and stared blankly at the wall across the room. She felt Puck take her hand, wincing at the touch again. She was in fight or flight mode, but she had no fight left in her body. She didn't feel the sting of the alcohol on her skin. The telepath was still stuck in a fugue state, lost in the swirl of words and images within her mind. It was like being inside a perpetual nightmare and she couldn't claw her way out.

Rachel's complete lack of reaction to anything was really starting to worry him now. Even though he was no longer speaking to Dr. Schuester, he knew he'd have to get a message to him somehow, about the girl's state.

"Alright," he said, as he finished cleaning her up. "Now for the interesting part." He was mostly just breaking the silence, by this point. "I don't wanna be touching where you're cut up, any more than I already had to. I'm not gonna localize my energy, so I can touch somewhere else, instead. So I'm gonna need you to lie down, in case you start to feel funny."

Rachel did as Puck asked and turned her body to lie back on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on the white tiles rather than the racing thoughts shooting through her mind. All she wanted was to get back to her room and curl up on her bed. Nothing seemed real to her anymore except the words those dead boys had whispered in her ear and the visions of their mangled bodies.

"Alright," he brushed her hair away from her face, and put a hand on her forehead. "Showtime," he announced, trying to hide his nerves. He was pretty worried that healing her was going to drain his strength, like healing Quinn had.

He closed his eyes and pushed energy out though his hand, and into Rachel's body, both pleased, and surprised when he wasn't overwhelmed by her power.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Rachel let Puck's power wash over her and heal her wounds. She hadn't really even noticed much of the physical pain, too busy listening to the voices in her head and seeing the images of her past. Once Puck had finished the healing, she pushed herself up again and slid off of the bed to stand. She still felt ill and just wanted to get back to her room. The brunette quietly began to make her way out of the infirmary towards the solace of her own room.

Puck just watched her go, flopping down onto a chair. He pulled out his phone, and started writing an email to Dr. Schuester.