A/N: My first attempt at a Puckleberry futurefic, I'm terribly sorry if it sucks. Rated T for Puck's mouth, badasses don't censor their language.
I own nothing. Unfortunately, Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy. If I did own it, Noah Puckerman would not know what a shirt was.
Fic title and inspiration comes from The Script song "Talk You Down". If you haven't heard it, listen to it now. It's amazing

Rachel Berry sat on the couch of the fourth floor walk-up in Brooklyn that she shared with her fiancé. She watched the seconds tick by as she took a sip of water. This was the last straw.

After Noah had gotten his job as a producer for one of the biggest record labels in New York City; Rachel had spent many nights waiting on him. She'd put up with a lot; cancelled dates, forgotten anniversaries, nights spent waiting up only for him to come stumbling in at four A.M. after drinks with clients. She put up with all of it because she knew that everything he did, he did for them, for their future together. But this was purely selfish, she'd begged him to be home for dinner tonight, she'd told him she had huge news; that she needed to talk to him and he'd sworn that he would be home.

12 hours earlier

"Oh my gosh! Are you...are you serious?" Rachel clutched the phone closer to her ear, resisting the urge to squeal. "You're offering me the female lead in 'West Side Story'? You're offering me the role of Maria?" She asked, her voice rising on the final word.

"Yes, ma'am, I am. The play's set to run for two years at the West End Theatre", the man on the other end of the phone replied, "I was in New York a couple months back and I saw your audition for 'Beauty and the Beast' at the Players Theatre, and I thought you were fabulous."

"But I didn't get that role."

"I'm aware of that, Miss Berry, and it's fortunate for me that you didn't, or I'd have to find myself a new Maria." He laughed at Rachel's sharp intake of breath before continuing, "I understand if you need time to think about whether or not you'd like to accept this role, after all, I am asking you to move to London for the duration of the play."

Rachel sighed, the high from being offered the role of a lifetime beginning to wear off as she considered the choice she faced. "How long do I have to give you answer?"

"Table reads start in three weeks, rehearsals in a month. I'd like an answer as soon as possible, no longer than a week. If you choose to take this role, I'd advise coming to London with a couple of weeks to spare, so you have time to get settled before rehearsals."

"Of course, I'll think this over and get back to you promptly. Thank you so much, Mr. Andrews."

"I hope to see you soon, Rachel."

Immediately after she'd hung up the phone she'd called Noah. Rachel had refused to tell him her news over the phone, making him promise to be home at six. It was nearing three in the morning and he still hadn't come home, hadn't even called to let her know he wouldn't be there. She glanced to the door, where her suitcases sat, packed. When Noah hadn't shown up by midnight, she'd packed her bags and booked a six A.M. flight to London, if Noah wasn't home by the time she had to leave, he'd find everything he needed to know in the note she'd written and left on his desk, next to the note, he'd find her engagement ring. If he showed, the she'd tell him everything; explain why she was leaving him. She'd call the director right before she boarded her flight to tell him her decision.

As Rachel heard a key turn in one of the three padlocks on the door to the apartment, she stood, straightening her clothes, brushing off the non-existent wrinkles in her shirt.

Noah shut the door behind him and jumped when he looked up to see Rachel standing in the living room. "Geez, Rach, you scared the hell outta me. What are you still doing up?"

"You promised you'd be home at six. I told you I wanted to talk to you."

"What?" He looked genuinely confused for a moment before his confusion turned into realization and then almost immediately into regret. "Babe, I am so sorry. One of the new clients wanted to take me out for drinks, he's really important, I couldn't say no."

"It sounds like he's important, clearly more important than your fiancée." Rachel stepped away from Noah as he reached out for her. "I had something huge to tell you, Noah."

"Okay, well tell me now, babe. Or we can go to bed and you can tell me tomorrow. I've got the whole day off; we can go to Central Park or see a show, whatever you want." He stepped forward, taking her left hand and pulling her to sit on the couch. He ran his fingers over her knuckles, freezing when he expected to feel Rachel's engagement ring under his fingers, instead feeling nothing. "Where's your ring?"

Rachel's face fell, "I won't be here tomorrow." Noah tilted his head, trying to read her expression. She was staring over his shoulder, towards the door. Following her gaze, he finally noticed the suitcase resting next to the door.

"What the hell?" He stood, pulling away from her, his face a mask of anger. "Were you even gonna tell me you were leaving? If I hadn't walked through that door when I did, would you have left without telling me?" He narrowed his eyes at her, waiting for an answer.

"I got offered the role of Maria." She watched his face soften, a smile almost forming before he controlled his expression.

"What does that have to do with you leaving? And don't think I didn't notice that you didn't answer my question."

"The role is in London." Rachel spoke, uncharacteristically quiet.

"London? You took a job halfway across the fucking world! Isn't this the kind of thing you should talk to your fiancé about?" Noah was fuming as he ran his fingers over his buzzed head.

"That's why I wanted you to be home! I wanted to talk to you about this. I hadn't decided to go, not until you didn't show up." She sighed before continuing, "You didn't care enough to be here, I figured my decision didn't matter all that much to you."

"Stop being such a fucking drama queen! I care about you, you know I do. Everything I've done has been for us. I fucking love you. How can you doubt that?"

"It's a great theatre, Noah. Scouts from Broadway go to shows there all the time. This could be a huge break for me!" Rachel tried to explain

"You know where else they have fucking Broadway scouts? New York! You don't have to move halfway across the goddamn world for a scout to see you. The least you could do is be honest with me about why you're leaving. This isn't about a damn job, Berry," Rachel winced at his use of her last name; he only used it when he was especially upset. "I know you better than you know yourself, Rachel, but I guess I never knew you were a coward. You're running away instead of trying to fix us. So you know what, just fucking go. Our relationship was over the second you took that job because you gave up on us." He turned, stalking away from her.

"I'll send for the rest of my stuff after I'm settled. I'm sorry, Noah. I love you, I do, but I can't live like this anymore." As she turned and wiped the tears from her eyes she heard the bedroom door slam. Grabbing the handle of her suitcase, she let her eyes sweep over the apartment one last time before walking out the door.

Rachel walked out the front door of the apartment building and hailed a cab. She lifted her suitcase into the trunk and as she slid into the back seat the cab driver asked "Where to, Miss?"

She sighed, realizing she'd left her flight information sitting on her desk in the apartment, but luckily she had an impeccable memory. "JFK," she replied, closing the cab door.