Author's Note: This has been playing in my head for a while now, ever since I watched (and fell in love with) the show Misfits. I decided I'd like to see the Glee members in a superhero world, but still parallel to the show as we watch it every week. This will somewhat follow the cannon plotline, and will start sometime after the Chrismtas special that ended the season.

I'm aware that this chapter is a bit boring, but you have no idea how hard it is to write something like this without stepping into the boundaries of every famous comic book artist on the planet. I assure you, this fanfiction will get much more exciting as it goes on. There will be slash, as it is mostly Kurt-centric, but there is no set pairing.

At least, not yet. ;3

Anyway! Please review, and give me suggestions. I'd love to hear some ideas~!

The trip was supposed to be a short and fun one, just the glee club- plus Kurt, who they had kidnapped as a means to get him out of the kindgom of perfection he liked to call Dalton- taking a carpool down to the old colonial theatre that lay south of Lima. It wasn't very big, not very well-known, and not very safe (Kurt had suspicions that the theatre hadn't been checked by health inspectors since it opened up in the 30's to play the first Shirley Temple movies. He was surprised they hadn't all died from asbestos poisoning), but it suited the purposes of the tiny theatre troupe that the gang had come here to see. They were putting on a low-budget production of Sweeney Todd, and even the boys had to admit that the idea of the gory little musical made them fairly excited. It wasn't the best performance in the world, but they still left the theatre pleased and ready to chatter about their favorite parts of the performance. Rachel Berry couldn't stop stating (rather loudly, to the point that it was embarrassing) that she could have done a better job as the lovely Lovett than the young, harassed looking young lady that the tiny production company had cast. Kurt had to try his hardest not to slap her across the face when he realized that the poor dear had hear her. Rachel wasn't the best at human compassion sometimes, though she was a lot better now than she was last year when the club had first began.

God, how he had missed them.

Dalton was nice, and quite safe, but it was missing the wonderful "dysfunctionality" that New Directions had. He was a Warbler now, but he wasn't really part of their group. Unfortunately, despite how much his well-meaning friends tried... they'd never be able to make him part of theirs again, either.

His silent depressive musings were barely drowned out by the sudden rain that decided to start falling on the roads, the sound of drops adding a creepy, rather ominous ambience to the silent car ride. He was stuck in the back between a sleeping Brittany and a bitchy bored Santana, as the newly licensed Puckerman whistled along to some ridiculous rap song that happened to be playing on the radio. As Puck happened to be driving, he got first dibs on what station they listened to- and Kurt was getting tired of constantly hearing the bleeping of curse words, mentions of strippers, and allusions to alcohol. He was just about ready to climb up there and change the channel himself, but his desire for better music was swiftly cut off by a loud curse from Puckerman, and that horrid feeling of fear clenching in his stomach as the screeching Latino girl next to him suddenly dove over his lap in an attempt to shield Brittany from the crash they all knew was going to come. Kurt made a quick mental note to kick Puck for not being more careful on the slick, rain-wettened roads... if they survived, that is.


They say life flashes before your eyes right before you die, but the only flashes Kurt happened to be seeing were those of his frightened car-mates, the railing keeping them from tumbling off of a cliff, and Sam's horrified face in the driver's seat of the car that was so desperately trying not to crash into them. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for something, anything... but there was only silence, and the sound of relieved, labored breathing from the front seat.

The car had stopped.

"Shitshitshitshitshit..." Puck hissed, his knuckles white from where he had been clutching the steering wheel in a vice-grip. "That was so close... fucking rain, it shouldn't be as fucking SLICK as this damn road is..." The mocha-skinned teenager kicked the driver's side door open and jumped out, his boots making a deep thud on the ground with every step he took around the surprisingly unscathed vehicle. It, like all of it's passengers, was not damaged.

Santana and Kurt slid out of the vehicle, and the fashionista split up to go check on the other kids. Santana seemed to be trying to shake the blonde Cheerio awake, the rain soaking the pleather backseat, as well as the young blonde girl that was passed out on it. Bless the girl's heart... she had slept through the entire ordeal.

"Is everyone alright?" Sam had run out to meet them the moment his vehicle stopped. He had managed to borrow his mother's van for the trip, so the rest of the club were filing out of the double doors looking visibly shaken. He was certain he didn't look a single bit better.

"Yeah... The rain made the tires jerk. The car should be fine..." His voice trailed off as he finally managed to look up at the sky. The storm clouds were the normal shade of grey, but the rain itself seemed to be a dark violet... "What in the world?"

"What? What are you looking at?" Sam craned his head in the direction Kurt was looking, blue eyes squinting to get a good luck at the amethyst drops that were pouring and wettening their clothes. "What the fuck? Is the rain purple? That's not normal, dude..."

"I'm sure it's fine."

The blonde shook his head. "No, man. I've seen this kind of thing happen in comic books! We need to get to shelter, before we get turned into slime-monsters or something." Kurt would have laughed at the blonde's words, but the serious look in the comic book geek's eyes was enough to make him worry. He doubted they would turn into slime monsters, but it might be best to get back into the cars and drive home...

"Shit!" Another curse came from the direction of the Jewish delinquent, and Kurt's mouth suddenly became very, very dry.

"What is it?"

"This shit isn't rain. I don't know what it is, but it's getting into the engine and fucking up with everything. The damn car won't start!"

Kurt sighed. Why did everything always have to go wrong at once? "Let me see it."

"You? What the hell is a princess like you going to do-"

"Shove it, Puckerman. I know more about cars than you probably EVER will." The brunette hissed, moving to take a look at the purple-soaked engine. "We need to at least move this car to shelter. I think I saw a gas station up ahead, but we're going to have to push the car there. That means EVERYONE is going to have to get out and help."

There were groans from practically every single person there, but one icy glare from their honorary teammate turned them into happy, cheerful pushers that were all too eager to help push. Only Brittany remained unbothered, still sleeping peacefully in the back of the car. Kurt wondered vaguely if it was tiring to be so naive.

He supposed he'd never know.