Disclaimer – You should really all be aware by now that I don't own Glee

Hello all you beautiful people, thank you very much for all the comments so far, please, keep them coming, hope you enjoy this next instalment….

Chapter 6 – These Dark Sides

As it happened, Rachel's predictions were correct. By the end of lunch, everybody knew about Artie Abrams being able to walk. As the boy in question prowled through the school halls, stares and whispers followed him, a mixture of rumours and gossip circulating about how his being out of the wheelchair was possible.

He was strolling through the school, walking strong and tall and confidently meeting people's eye when one of the nastier jocks (a freckle-faced beast of a boy named Bradford) circled round him, a group of his friends in toe.

"Hey look boys," Bradford jeered. "It's the singing cripple taking his first steps."

The offensive word, along with the accompanying sniggers, pierced Artie's eardrums like a volt of electricity. He felt a tingling in his fingertips and briefly caught a sight of blue sparks. He clenched his fists tight together and mentally told himself to calm down and just walk away.

"So what, you been faking the wheelchair thing this whole time?" Bradford asked, invading Artie's personal space and talking directly and loudly into his ear. "Maybe I should break your legs right now and put you in a wheelchair for real," he threatened.

"Back… off…" Artie warned dangerously as he turned a dark glare on the oaf.

He must have looked intimidating because Bradford's loyal cronies gulped and edged away. Even Bradford had a look of unease and hesitation in his eye. Unfortunately, he had no sense and continued to goad the boy before him.

"You're gonna die," Bradford hissed pushing Artie up against the nearby locker, his fists smashing against the metal either side of the boy's head.

All Artie had intended to do in response was push the large boy away from him. He didn't mean to launch him off his feet and send him crashing to the floor, his body shaking with spasms from the shocks of electric Artie had sent through him when his hands connected with Bradford's chest. Still overcome with rage, Artie towered over Bradford's twitching body menacingly. The gorilla-like teen's hair was standing on end, his freckles were standing out more than usual on his suddenly very pale skin and he was gasping for breath.

"I said back off," Artie stated coldly before swinging his foot into Bradford's side. The boy let out an agonising wail that clearly indicated it had been a brutally hard kick.

"Artie!" Finn called out sternly as he marched towards him from the other side of the corridor. "Somebody get the nurse," he ordered out of concern for Bradford. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked Artie in a frantic whisper when he reached him. "Do you think he's ok?" Finn asked of another concerned bystander who had tentatively kneeled down at Bradford's side.

"I think he wet himself," the younger girl answered.

For a moment, Finn was unsure what to do. Seeing the nurse making her way towards them, Finn took a grip on Artie's shoulder and guided him out so they could take some fresh air.

"Bradford can be a jerk," Finn admitted. "But he did not deserve whatever the hell happened in there. That was not cool, bro."

"He called me a cripple," Artie snarled. "He threatened to break my legs and put me back in a wheelchair. He told me I was gonna die."

"And so you nearly killed him?" Finn asked.

"It was a little bit of an electric shock, nothing life-threatening," Artie brushed the matter away uncaringly.

"Do you not realise how much trouble you could get in?" Finn asked. "How dangerous this situation could have been?"

"Whatever, nobody even saw any crazy electric blue stuff," Artie replied confidently. "All anybody saw was me push the asshole away."

"And now rumours are gonna spread that you're on steroids," Finn stated. "I already heard a cheerleader suggesting steroids as I was walking from one end of the hall to the other."

"So, let people talk," Artie shrugged. "Maybe all the other assholes at this school will think twice before messing with me."

"Did you mean to do it?" Finn asked seriously. "Did you mean to use your power on him?"

"No," Artie answered honestly. "But I'm not sorry I did," he added.

"Damn it, man, now that you can walk you're like an entirely different person," Finn commented uneasily.

"Am I?" Artie challenged. "How well do you really know me, Finn Hudson? How well does anybody really know me? Just because most people would look at me and only see the chair doesn't mean that the chair defined me, it never did. I'm more than that. I've always been more than that."

"Look, I didn't mean anything… this isn't about a chair ok," Finn sighed. "You have this power, Artie, and it is dangerous. And I'm not gonna lie, it freaking scares me. You have the power of a would-be superhero and I just saw you use it like a super-villain. You need to control it before it controls you and you do some serious damage to someone else… or to yourself."

"Maybe you should leave me alone before I do some serious damage to you," Artie retorted and Finn held his hands up in surrender and took a few steps back.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, man," Finn told him. "That's what friend's do."

"Well I can look out for myself now," Artie insisted before storming back inside.

XXX

There was something different about the way Tina Cohen-Chang walked through the school corridors. She didn't keep her head down and shy away hoping to go as unnoticed as possible in her chosen Gothic style. Her head was held high and she swept through the halls with a fierce determination about her. She looked people in the eye, an evil-looking half-smirk settled comfortably on her mouth as though it had always belonged on her lips.

Part way down one corridor, she crossed paths with a senior boy who had often knocked her books out of her hands. But not today. Today, she set that evil half-smirk upon him and it seemed to freeze him in place. She then circled him like a vulture, her new improved hearing picking up on the thumping of his heart and his heavy breathing. Perhaps it was dark and twisted, but it thrilled her to know the affect her presence was having upon him. And that affect was fear, there was no question about it.

She coiled her fingers around the back of his neck, one of her new sharp nails catching his flesh and making him wince.

"Is there something you wanted to say to me?" Tina asked, her sharp teeth dangerously close to his ear.

"N-no," the older boy stuttered out.

"Oh, but I think there is," Tina insisted moving her hand up from his neck to grip at his hair. "I think you should say… 'I'm sorry for always being such a jerk to you, Tina'."

The boy was silent. Unimpressed, Tina released his hair and took hold of one of his hands. He tried to wrench away from her grip but her smirk at him only increased as he failed to pull away. She was much too strong for him now and she knew it and judging by the horror in his eyes he had become aware of it too.

"Tell me you're sorry," Tina requested but the boy seemed too scared to speak. "Perhaps this will loosen your tongue," Tina mused before snaking her fingers around his baby finger and snapping the bone as if it were a feeble twig.

He shrieked in pain and passers-by turned to see the cause of the commotion.

"A-a-are you o-ok?" Tina asked loudly, faking her stutter and acting concerned. To the confused passers-by, it simply looked like Tina was holding the boy's hand, perhaps trying to comfort him in his moment of agony. "Tell me you're sorry," she repeated so only he could hear.

He looked at her with wide frightened eyes, his forehead beading with a nervous sweat, but he made no apology.

She wrapped her fingers around his second finger and he shook his head from side to side vehemently as he cast her a pleading gaze. She showed him no mercy and let out one dark bout of laughter as she broke the next finger, the pain causing him to collapse onto one knee.

"Shall I g-g-go and ge-get the nur-nurse?" Tina asked loudly putting on a performance for surrounding students once more. "Tell me you're sorry," Tina whispered again, her fingers already locking around his middle finger. "Or don't," she smirked with a quirked eyebrow. "I am having fun after all."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the older boy babbled. "Please, let me go," he begged. "I won't tell anyone, I swear."

"You think this was bad?" Tina asked squeezing the two broken fingers and making him cry. "Then try really pissing me off… I dare you." She dropped his hand and prowled away from him never having felt more in control and powerful.

The sound of fast approaching footsteps interrupted her moment of satisfaction. Coming to a halt, she twisted on her heel and spun around to come face to face with Mike Chang.

"What was going on back there?" Mike asked her in a serious tone.

"Nothing," Tina replied defensively.

"It didn't look like nothing," Mike said.

"The loser girl was finally able to stand up for herself," Tina commented. "That's all."

She turned her back on him, flipping her hair as she did so. Shaking his head, Mike watched her go. Securing his schoolbag more firmly on his shoulder, he headed off to his next class knowing that he would have to speak to the other Glee kids about the potential Tina problem.

XXX

It was Gym class. Not Mercedes Jones favourite period by any stretch of the imagination. She had always been a little uncoordinated and struggled to keep up with the stick-figures who flounced about in the skimpy outfits they wore as Gym clothes. All the dance choreography in Glee Club had helped to improve her general health and stamina but she still wasn't the sporty type. She was also perfectly aware that her body type was several sizes more than the would-be catwalk models surrounding her.

Some of the girls were perfectly amicable towards her, nice enough to say 'hello' in the hallways or partner up with her in class. Other girls were not so nice. Specifically, a Cheerio named Rosie Boyd. She had always made scathing remarks about the other girls. Rachel Berry's nose was too big. Santana Lopez' breasts were too small (the Latina would insist she didn't care what the likes of Rosie Boyd said but Brittany had let slip to Mercedes that Santana was saving up for a boob-job). Quinn Fabray was too skinny. Miranda Vincent was too tall. Becky Jackson was too short. As for Mercedes, well, as far as Rosie Boyd was concerned, Mercedes Jones was too fat.

For the most part, Mercedes was able to love herself and be comfortable in her own body. But there were times when she would feel insecure. She was a teenage girl for Whitney's sake. And her biggest battle with insecurity always came after Gym class when they returned to the locker room to shower.

Standing under the spray of the water, Mercedes tried (as she always did) to ignore Rosie's harsh words about her weight. To begin with, Mercedes thought she was doing a good job. Then she heard Rosie screeching in pain. Along with every other girl left in the locker room, Mercedes instantly rushed to see what was happening. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as her mind absorbed what she was seeing.

Rosie Boyd's skin was red raw and blistering something awful. Nobody else seemed to understand what was going on but Mercedes felt her stomach churn as she realised what had happened. She hadn't been ignoring Rosie's jibes as well as she thought she had been. Instead, Mercedes had sub-consciously used her powers to turn Rosie's shower water up to a scolding heat. So hot that it had brutally burned her skin in just a few short seconds. Mercedes needed help. She wasn't controlling her new powers too well after all.

XXX

On a free period, Santana was roaming about the school in the hopes of finding a potential hook-up. She couldn't locate Brittany and the hallways seemed to be filled with loser boys who weren't even worthy to have her eyes on them. She was considering going out to her car and crawling into the backseat to tend to her sexual needs herself when she heard the sound of someone crying. She also felt an unnatural chill in the air and thought it might have something to do with Mercedes and her new weather skills. Stealthily, she followed the sounds and indeed found Mercedes sitting under a staircase with her knees drawn up to her chest.

"Ok, Aretha," Santana sighed in a bored tone. "What's up? Come on, tell Auntie Tana," she encouraged as she slipped under the staircase to sit beside her, wrinkling her nose slightly at sitting on the school floors.

"Rosie Boyd," Mercedes said in a choked voice.

"Yeah, I heard," Santana nodded. News of the Cheerio getting burned in the shower had travelled faster than the news of Artie walking. "But so what? Rosie's a bitch, who cares if her skin got fried? She shouldn't have turned the water on so hot."

Mercedes sobbed harder.

"Whoa, ok, enough crying," Santana commented patting Mercedes on the shoulder awkwardly. "Why do you care about Rosie?" she asked. "Oh, damn," she swore. "You and Rosie are in the same Gym class," Santana realised and the other girl nodded through her tears. "Sorry, I didn't think. I guess seeing it in person must have freaked you out a little. I only heard about it and because it's Rosie I found it hilarious but I guess if I take my bitch head off for a while it isn't that funny after all."

"It's really not," Mercedes replied. "You didn't see her. You didn't hear her scream. You aren't… you aren't the reason it happened," she hiccoughed.

"What do you mean?" Santana asked looking at Mercedes carefully.

"I did it," Mercedes told her. "I did it Santana. I made the shower water boil so hot that it burned her skin."

"You… but… no way," Santana objected. "That's not the type of person you are. Me… yeah, I'm a bitch. If I had your powers I'd probably have done a lot worse by now," she admitted. "But you're not that kind of person. It must have been a freak accident with the piping or plumbing."

"It was me," Mercedes insisted. "I didn't mean to do it, but I did. She was just there, showering a couple of stalls down from me and saying all these things."

"What things?" Santana asked in a gentle tone she usually reserved for Brittany.

"That I'm fat," Mercedes answered hollowly. "I tried to ignore it, to block it out. But I heard every word and I might pretend things like that don't bother me but…"

"But it hurts," Santana finished for her. "I know. We all have insecurities. Even hot bitches like me."

"I made the water burn her skin," Mercedes stated. "Sub-consciously I made it happen. I know I did."

"Maybe you did," Santana acknowledged. "But you didn't do it deliberately so as far as I'm concerned it isn't your fault. Come on," Santana said putting an arm around the girl, shocked to discover just how cold Mercedes' body was. "You're freezing," Santana observed. "Come on, we need to get you warmed up. And at least try and stop crying because the whole vulnerability and emotions thing makes me majorly uncomfortable."

She held her hand out to help Mercedes stand and led her away from the staircase, one arm around her trying to rub some warmth into her cold body.

XXX

"Quinn?" Rachel asked hesitantly as she caught up to the beautiful blonde between classes. "Could I please speak with you for a moment?"

"No," Quinn answered quickening her pace.

"Quinn, please," Rachel hurried to keep up with the Head Cheerio. "Look, you don't have to avoid me. I already know ok. I can hear you worrying about it."

"Stay out of my head, Man-Hands," Quinn snarled at her. "And I swear to God, if you breathe a word of this to anyone I will permanently damage your vocal chords." Oh God, I'm so scared.

"You don't have to be scared," Rachel said in a small voice. "And I'm not going to tell anyone. And you might not even be… you know… things still might be ok."

"Listen up, Boy-Hips," Quinn retorted as she stared Rachel down. "You are not my friend and I don't want your help, your advice or your opinion. Just stay out of my business. Stay out of everybody's business. Nobody here even likes you Rachel. Nobody wants to see you, nobody wants to listen to you, so why don't you hang around Kurt a little more and see if you can turn invisible… permanently," she added before whipping round and stalking away, her high-pony swishing behind her.

Swallowing, Rachel felt her lower lip tremble but she took a calming breath to prevent herself from crying. Head down, she made her way towards her next class, getting jostled by a few students along the way.

Glee Freak, one thought. Urgh, I hate her, thought another.

Stepping into her English class, Rachel put on a smile and as always stopped at Mr. Howard's desk to greet him. He was her favourite teacher after all (after Mr. Schuester of course).

"Good afternoon, Mr. Howard," Rachel beamed. "What's on the lesson plan for today?"

He answered her politely as he always did, smiling, even making a casual joke. But his ongoing thoughts betrayed the words he verbalised.

This attention-seeking brat always gives me a headache, Mr. Howard thought. I need to see Figgins again about getting her transferred to a different class.

"Um, great," Rachel said uneasily not having really heard the words he said. All she had absorbed were the unfavourable thoughts he had of her. "So, I guess I'll just sit down then?" she asked rhetorically, still fighting to keep on a brave face.

"Of course, please do," Mr. Howard smiled at her from behind his desk. Just sit down and shut up.

"Mr. Howard?" Rachel asked not able to meet his eye. "I don't think I'm feeling too well. Can I please go to the nurse?"

Drama-queen, the man thought.

"Of course, Rachel, if you're not feeling well," Mr. Howard answered her. "Go and see the nurse," and don't come back. "I hope you feel better soon." Hopefully it's something contagious that means she has to be homeschooled.

Gathering her books and pink and gold stationery, Rachel exited the classroom with a lump in her throat. One of her favourite teachers absolutely despised her. That was a difficult truth to accept. She knew she wasn't popular among her peers, but she didn't think her teachers held such a negative attitude towards her too.

"Loser!" A jock, Jake Hastings, yelled in her face as he poured a cup of Slushie over her head.

There was a lot of laughter. As Rachel headed to the nearest girls' bathroom, the syrupy drink already stinging at her irises, she also picked out a number of people's thoughts on the incident. Most were cruel or amused. Some were indifferent. None were sympathetic.

Letting her books and pens fall to a heap on the bathroom floor, Rachel stood at one of the sinks and turned the faucet on. She splashed the water over her face, trying to get it out of her eyes before it burned too much.

"Everybody hates me," she sobbed pitifully to herself.

In response, she heard the words, 'I don't'. Lifting her head, she saw Matt's reflection in the mirror; the boy moving up behind her with a towel, a hairbrush and one of the Glee costumes for her to change in to now her sweater was stained with Slushie. She wasn't sure if the boy had spoken the words out loud or if she had just heard him think them, either way, she was grateful for his presence.

"Thank you," she choked out as he helped her wash her hair.

Matt was known for being quiet and not talking much. It turned out that he didn't think much either. Rachel was grateful for that and welcomed the peace and quiet and lack of hateful thoughts directed towards her.

"I wish I could turn it off," Rachel rambled to the silent boy as he gently worked the brush through her hair. "I wish I couldn't hear all these awful things people think about me. I know who I am. I know that I'm a difficult person to like. But I didn't realise it was so easy for me to be hated. And do you know what the worst part is?" she asked.

'You think they're right,' Matt answered and once again Rachel wasn't sure if he'd actually spoken or she'd just heard the thought.

"What?" Rachel questioned whirling around to face him. Matt just gave her a one-shoulder shrug as a response before leaving her alone in the girls' bathroom. "Yes," she acknowledged to herself as she considered some of the things she had learned people thought about her. "I think they're right. Partly at least," she continued talking to herself. "But they don't really know me or understand me. They don't really see the good parts about me. And there are good parts. But they only see the bad and the ugly aspects of my personality. All anybody sees is the dark side," she remarked bitterly as she looked at her mirror image. "I must sing a solo," she said decisively.

XXX

After singing her heart out in the auditorium, Rachel determinedly tracked down Quinn again.

"Get out of my way," Quinn sneered at her. Why can't she just leave me alone? Just what is her problem? What if she tells people? What if she tells Finn? That's probably what she wants. Of course it's what she wants. She's desperate to claw her un-manicured nails into my boyfriend.

"Quinn," Rachel sighed feeling a dull ache in her temple from the army of thoughts running around the blonde's brain. "Just take the test," she advised.

I can't. I'm scared. What if I am pregnant? Please, God, help me, I don't know what to do. Quinn clutched at her little gold cross.

"I… I can be there with you," Rachel offered. "You don't have to do this alone."

Why would she want to help me? Quinn wondered suspiciously.

"Just stay away from me, Man-Hands," Quinn said out loud, barging Rachel roughly as she stormed away.

XXX

It had come to the end of the day. Kurt had successfully managed to stay visible during his classes and had taken care to avoid being too close to any walls to ensure he didn't walk through one. However, as he stopped to use the bathroom, his lack of reflection informed him that he was invisible once again. He thought nothing of it until he found himself crossing paths with one of his regular bullies. This particular boy, Graham Brett, had once graffitied the word 'fag' across his locker.

'What are you gonna do about it, homo?' had always been Graham's choice of words to him any time he did something abhorrent. Of course, Kurt had never been able to really do anything in retaliation, but perhaps he could now.

Quietly following after him, Kurt reached his hand out and jabbed the other boy on the shoulder. He looked around casually, his face morphing in to one of confusion when he didn't see anybody there. Holding back a snigger, Kurt tip-toed around the boy and flicked him on the ear.

"Ow," Graham complained, swatting his hand about the air as though trying to bat away a fly.

Kurt allowed Graham to walk peacefully several more steps before calling out his name in a spooky voice.

"Graham… Graham," Kurt called and the boy looked around, his eyes darting about in search of someone.

"Very funny, man," Graham called back. "Now cut it out. Who's there?"

"Graham… Graham…" Kurt continued.

"Seriously, dude, cut it out," Graham snapped looking up and down the empty corridor. "Fucking fags," he muttered under his breath and Kurt set his jaw determinedly as he pursued Graham through the hallways.

"You can't run," Kurt hissed into Graham's ear, making him start and look about himself frantically. "You can't hide," Kurt declared as he yanked the other boy's school bag away from him before throwing it against his chest. Graham was definitely scared now.

"Keep away from me!" Graham yelled out in terror before fleeing down the corridor.

Kurt ran after him and whacked him upside the head. Still invisible, he circled round him and smacked him on the butt. He ducked and weaved out of Graham's way as he punched wildly at the air. Standing before him, Kurt gave a rough shove and watched the boy stagger backwards on his feet and land with a painful thud on his ass.

"Leave me alone!" Graham hollered before scrambling to his feet and sprinting away.

"Graham…" Kurt called eerily as he followed. "I'll be watching you."

Graham cast a panicked look over his shoulder before taking a tumble down the stairs.

"Oh no," Kurt said to himself as he raced to the top of the stairs then looked down. Graham was sprawled at the bottom, one of his legs sticking out at an odd angle.

A teacher and two students appeared at the bottom of the staircase. Before they could look up, Kurt stepped through the wall and into an empty classroom, his heart beating from the accident he had just caused.

To Be Continued…

Please review, how are we all feeling about the different characters at the moment?

Love and Hugs, IceQueenRia xox