Disclaimer: I own nothing except my cliché little plotline. Also, there's a reference to an actual HDA but I have no idea who wrote it what it's even called. Someone performed it in my school but I don't remember anything about it except the basic plot. Just so y'all know I'm not trying to take credit for it. Hence: disclaimer. Wow, I ramble a lot. Right, story:

What Doesn't Kill us Makes us Stronger

Chapter 2

Since they had just received the piece they would be performing, they each sat quietly in a practice room reading over their script. Artie went over it thoroughly literally laughing out loud at a few parts. With a piece like this, maybe speech could be fun after all. Wanting to see Rachel's reaction, he looked over at her and saw nothing but a scowl on her face and no sign of entertainment what so ever. He knew he was going to regret it, but he needed to know what Rachel's deal was when the piece they were assigned was really funnier than about 90% of the band geek jokes he had read online.

"What's wrong Rachel?"

Rachel met Artie's eyes. She displayed a look of terror and desperation that made him want to laugh, considering the circumstances.

"This piece! It's awful! I refuse to play a character who throws her husband's cats out the window! First of all, it's absurd that anyone would injure a cute little kitty cat and second, I don't want to be the bad guy!"

Artie simply sighed. You'd think that if her two dads could afford to send her to so many performing arts classes as a child, then she surely should have developed some sense of humor.

"It's just a skit Rachel. It's supposed to be for entertainment purposes. You don't actually have to throw a cat out of the window. Plus, to everyone else, it's going to be hysterical. Isn't the point to please the judges? If we act this well, the judges will eat it up. It's unique. That's what they're looking for, right? Plus, there's no way we can receive a new skit. Mrs. Gillies says all of her selections are non-negotiable."

"I'm Rachel Berry, and I happen to know that in the real world everything is negotiable," Rachel said with a huff and then proceeded to storm out of the door before Artie adamantly blocked her exit. He was so done with this. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Rachel in glee, but here too? Artie took a deep breathe as he began his lecture he'd been dying to give Ms. Know-it-all Berry for as long as he could remember.

"Listen Rachel, I don't want to work with you anymore than you want to work with me. You may be talented, but no one can ever appreciate it because you're always criticizing something. It's unfair to everyone around you and I don't want to put up with it. I happen to really like this skit, so you're not going to bother about it, you're going to stop being a negative Nancy and only pointing out the bad in everything, and we are going to run all the way through our piece without you telling me what to do. Understand?"

Artie breathed heavily, suddenly feeling much better, as Rachel was momentarily subdued, taking in everything Artie had said. No one had ever really stood up to her like that before, at least no one that mattered. Truly she respected Artie's opinion. She forced a smile and responded with her usual tone of superiority.

"Wow Artie, you really are a passionate speaker. You've got a very clear and articulate voice, but I'm sure that if you…"

Artie raised his eyebrows just daring her to finish that statement.

"I mean, our skit's going to be great." Rachel was only half sure of this, but the comment made Artie smile.

"Much better. So, you have the first line. Whenever you're ready."

They simply read through the skit a few times. Rachel refrained from critiquing Artie's obviously imperfect performance, but today, she wasn't at her best either. She figured they both had time to improve, so she kept her mouth shut for now.

They were packing up their things, neither of them thrilled with how rehearsal went, though neither miserable, when Rachel couldn't help but blurt the one thing that's on her mind whenever she talks to anyone besides her dads and formerly, Jesse.

"You hate me, don't you?"

Artie looked up at Rachel in surprise, not expecting to actually have a conversation with her about something not related to their speech. However, when he looked up, Rachel Berry was nearly unrecognizable. She had lost her confident façade and had taken a defensive stance. Sheer hurt and desperation filled her eyes. She reminded Artie vaguely of those commercials on TV with all of the sad animals asking you to save them.

"Rachel, I don't hate you. My outburst wasn't out of spite, simply frustration and I…"

Rachel cut him off. "No, it's ok. Everyone hates me. You don't have to lie. I do appreciate you trying to make me feel better." Rachel attempted a half smile, but couldn't look Artie in the eyes.

What Artie said about not hating her wasn't entirely untrue. Although, he would be lying if he said he particularly cared for the girl. However, at this point in time, he truly felt sorry for her. Upon instinct, Artie wheeled himself over to where Rachel was sitting, playing with her phone and, from what he could tell, holding back tears.

"Rachel, no one hates you. Sure, you may come on a little strong sometimes, but we all admire your talent."

Rachel met Artie's eyes, which looked genuinely sincere, but couldn't contain the initial scoff at this statement. Artie was taken aback by Rachel's reaction to his attempt at comforting and a compliment all in one but simply replied with a gentle, "What?"

Rachel looked up, tears obvious in her eyes, and then looked back at Artie.

"You admire my talent? I get enough admiration. I don't want anymore admiration, or compliments, or applause for that matter! I want friends. I want people to like me! I just…I don't understand…" Her voice was filled with sadness and a hint of scorn.

Artie was mildly shocked at hearing that Rachel Berry didn't want anymore applause, but that was the last thing on his mind. As the sincerity in her words began to sink in, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt. Sure, Rachel hadn't been an angel to him, but she surely hadn't attacked anyone personally, except with a bit of criticism. Her annoyingness and critique was limited to people's performances, never to their actual personality. As he realized this, he also realized that no one had ever really tried to be nice to her or befriend her, Finn Hudson and Jesse St. James didn't count because they seemed to have ulterior motives, and she definitely didn't have any girl friends.

Now Artie was the one who couldn't make eye contact.

"What don't you understand?"

Slightly shocked that Artie had even bothered to ask, she took this as her opportunity to get out all of her bent up emotions, standing up to give her spiel, all the while shouting at no one imparticular.

"I don't understand why not one likes me! I'm the best one out there! I work the hardest! I care about this club more and the people in it than anyone can understand but no one gives a damn about me! You guys wouldn't even keep me around if it weren't for my talent. No one gets that everything I say, I say in their best interest! I try to be nice and social and caring, but no one ever notices. The only time anyone ever notices me is when they're yelling at me for criticizing them! People may think I'm an over-achiever, but no one has ever looked deep enough to figure out that it's not over-achieving when you simply love what you're doing so much that you just can't stop and that when you have no friends, you have a lot of time on your hands. Instead, they think they can judge me! Tell me who I am and make assumptions. No one gets it! I may be overly critical when it comes to the performing arts, but I have never judged people's character like people have done to me!"

At this final statement, releasing everything she had been harboring, she collapsed in sobs on Artie's lap. Artie didn't even notice some of the conceitedness in her statements, all he could do was hug her and try to console her, a stunned look on his face as he took in everything she said and realized that, for the most part, it was all true.