Summary:He'd give up Beth a million times over than this. The room felt too silent and he wanted nothing more than to just run. But he owed her this. Owed them this. And so he holds her tightly and hopes and wishes for the sound of a loud cry, futile as it is.
A/N: Just a quick note to say that this is my first ever Glee fic and so also my first Puckleberry fic so please let me know if I got it right by reviewing.
Good Times Never Seemed so Good
For eight months, her pregnancy had been perfect. Absolutely text book. From the moment that the little stick turned blue, Noah and Rachel Puckerman had been walking on clouds. They were going to have a baby. Half him, half her. They could see their child if they simply closed their eyes. Brown hair, green eyes. A distinctive nose. Wide smile. Musically talented. Rebellious. The best of both of them. To Noah, it had been a dream come true. He had already come so close to having a child to completely call his own that there was nothing that he wanted more. And to do it with Rachel as well. It was like every dream of his had come true. This was it. Lima had long gone and the world was theirs. And when it all came crashing down around him, he was helpless.
They hadn't planned to have a baby. They had both only celebrated their 25th birthdays a short while ago and a baby was not on the horizons. Getting married the previous year had been a huge step within itself. He had just started as a music teacher whilst she had been lucky enough to finally get that lead in West Side Story. Life had felt steady and so they took the next stop in a move that surprised their friends and families. Their wedding day was one of the best days in his life. She had walked down the aisle, a vision in white with that wide smile that made his heart skip more than just a beat. And that feeling of crushed glass under his foot was one of the best ever. They were together for the rest of their lives. A year later, she had started to throw up and so he went to the pharmacy and bought the test. And it all fell into place.
The first three months had gone just as expected. There was morning sickness at all times of the day but it was nothing unexpected. In fact the only significant thing about the beginning of her pregnancy had been Santana's rather amusing protectiveness of Rachel. She would glare at people on the subway if Rachel was even jostled slightly. Even in a million years he would never understand their crazy friendship. All he knew that it began from Rachel slapping Azimio for calling Santana a dyke. And then shouting at Santana for not doing it herself because until then Rachel had been a dedicated pacifist and had never resorted to such a repugnant thing as violence.
They had told the rest of their friends and family at the twelve week mark. The congratulations had poured in and yeah, he did feel a little shoot of smugness mixed with pity when he saw Finn's face filled with regret and slight anger. But in all honesty he didn't really find himself caring all that much. Kurt of course had gone baby crazy. It had taken Blaine's restraining arm from stopping him running off to go buy the complete Marc Jacobs' baby range. His ma had looked at him with knowing eyes, understanding how long he had waited and wanted this. They were happy and everyone was more or less happy for them.
And as the months went by, the baby grew. Limbs began to sprout and the baby was doing well. Rachel was doing well. She had taken to pregnancy like a fish to water. That whole pregnancy glow thing that people talked about? He had always thought it was a load of bullshit but fuck it, Rachel glowed. She had looked absolutely beautiful with her baby bump protruding out. Her long brown hair fell gently in waves against her back and for some inexplicable reason her movements became even more lithe and graceful to him. He had come home from work early one day and had been struck by the sight of her sat at the piano. He had seen many people play piano but he loved it when Rachel played. It seemed that it was not just her hands softly pressing the keys to elicit beautiful notes but as if she played with her whole being, with everything she had.
They decided to stay in the dark when it came to the sex of their baby, a move that shocked all who knew them. Rachel and Puck had perhaps an ounce of patience between them but they decided that their baby liked surprises and they should keep within the theme. Its mere existence after all was one. However this did not help matters when it came to decorating the nursery. They decided to forego the traditional unisex yellow (Rachel confided to him that all the yellow of her old room often made her feel rather ill) and instead painted a deep purple. She did however insist on having glow in the dark stars all over the roof. After all any child of Rachel Berry's would be a true star.
Puck would never forget the first time he felt the baby kick. It truly was a magical feeling as held his hand to Rachel's burgeoning belly. He felt a slight nudge against the palm of his hand and as if the baby knew he was its father, it would make its movements more sporadic and more forceful. That was his child. Someone who would need him more than anything in the world. And the look in Rachel's eyes when she caught his eyes following her belly also made his heart pound. There was a gentle shining that he only could remember on the day they got married. He liked to think it was true happiness and a sign of her being content. He would be a liar if he said that he had not feared that Rachel would be unsure of having a child so soon.
He had loved Rachel since they were eighteen and she was the only one that agreed with him replacing Finn as their male lead in Glee, and since then his love for her had just deepened with time. But as she became more and more pregnant his love for her seemed to, if possible, continue to increase. Sure they still fought like children and her hormones had her prone to random crying fits but all that love shit just kept on going and going. So much so that Santana had even started calling him Pup due to his new and embarrassing habit of continually staring at her.
It was at night when they most often talked about the baby. Just after sex and just before sleep. She had decided that it was going to be a boy that would have an amazing voice but would only want to pursue football which would cause huge arguments between them both whilst he was convinced that it was a little girl that would be the carbon copy of Rachel. He often joked that he would simply go unheard by the combined vocal efforts of Rachel and their daughter, and to solve the problem they would simply have to create another child, preferably a boy. Or at least practice the process required. He received a sharp elbow to the stomach for those comments. It seemed that Santana's violent nature had indeed rubbed off on to Rachel.
Names were also something they found themselves hugely disagreeing on. They both wanted Jewish names, obviously, but found that they were constantly in disagreement. She wanted the name Ezra if it was a boy, but dammit Ezra just wasn't a badass enough name. He liked the name Joshua but she found it too simple. It took Kurt and his name-vention that prevented a week of him sleeping on the couch. They settled on Zachary in the end. Zachary Elijah Puckerman, because even if his old man was a full blown bastard he was his old man and he wanted Zach to have a tiny part of him. When it came to the girl's name though there was no arguments whatsoever. Without a doubt it had to be Caroline, although it wasn't exactly the most Jewish of names. She wanted the middle name to be Sapphira which he found more than a little pretentious whilst he wanted Tahlia and honestly as far as Rachel was concerned Caroline Tahlia Puckerman sound ridiculous. This time it was Rachel herself that mediated their dispute. Quite quietly she said to him how she would like to have the middle name influenced by her daddy and so Caroline Puckerman became Caroline Hira Puckerman.
It was at the beginning of the eighth month when it all came crashing down. Until then they had lived in this perfect little world of happiness, love and excitement and deep down Noah Puckerman knew that this world was fragile and would shatter. He expected the worst, a habit formed from childhood that he had been unable to kick. When Rachel had told him she had gotten into NYU he had been absolutely certain that she would be leaving him. Instead he was told that he had an interview for music and education at the very same institution. When they started NYU she immediately fitted into her theatre peers. Here her hunger for fame was shared and encouraged and he was secretly convinced that she was going to leave him for some Jesse type. When he drunkenly confessed this to her he was given a full blown Rachel Berry rant for ever thinking such idiocy. But even so in his mind he had always prepared himself for what he saw as the inevitable, regardless of how badly he didn't want it to ever happen.
It had been a lovely morning that day. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Fuck, fairytales wanted to start with this type of scene. The night had been hot and had made Rachel unusually restless. She had also been complaining that her back had been hurting more than it previously had during the pregnancy. He had gone to the kitchen to get her a cold drink when he heard her whimpers. It instantly alarmed him. Rachel had always had quite a high threshold for pain and the second he heard her low moans of pain he immediately dashed back to the bedroom. What he saw was an image that would forever remain branded onto his brain.
She was lying spread-eagled across the covers as had become her manner during the pregnancy. It was the pool of blood that surrounded her that made his own run cold. Her eyes were closed and suddenly the idea that she may be dead crept across his mind. He swallowed thickly and moved towards her tentatively calling her name. No answer. He quickly checked for a pulse and was relieved to hear a faint thump. But the baby. And all the blood. He went into auto-pilot and reached for his cell phone. He quickly dialled 911 and never before had his voice shaken like this. An ambulance was on its way he was told and he waited. As clichéd as it sounded to himself, every second felt like a fucking hour. It was all slipping away he could feel it. He took Rachel's hand and cradled it between his own.
"I know you're scared Rach but s'all gonna be okay. You and baby P are gonna just be fine. Absolutely fine. Our family is gonna be amazing babe. So you just hold on kay? You and baby P just need to keep on going. And it'll all be fine. So yeah just keep on going Rach, just keep on going".
His words sounded odd even to him. A voice inside his head was screaming that it was NOT going to be okay and things were definitely not fine. So he just kept on rubbing circles onto Rachel's hand, hoping it would provide some kind of comfort. And then he heard the knock on the door and things started happening so quickly. In a daze he answered the paramedics' questions and the next thing he knew they were taking her away from him and leaving him in the hospital waiting room.
With nothing to do but wait, he reluctantly began to make the phone calls. Her dads, Santana, Kurt. It was only with his mother that his voice finally broke and sobs that had so far been contained broke out. They all soon made their entrances, their faces so fucking sombre that his inner sadist wondered how they're look if Rachel actually died. And once again the thought of Rachel dying crossed his mind. And it was like someone had physically taken his heart and squeezed it, leaving an ache that he had never felt before- not when his dad had left, not when Quinn had continuously rejected him as a potential partner, not even when he had given Beth away.
The appearance of a doctor startled him from his thoughts. There was an apologetic look on the doctor's face that immediately set him on edge.
And then he was taken to a delivery room. Rachel was now conscious and her face was streaked with tears. She looked up at him with a fearful look and he attempted a reassuring smile although he was certain it came out more as a grimace. She reached out for his hand and he without blinking took it. Her smaller fingers curled in his and he gave them a squeeze. The doctor asked her to start pushing and she nodded with a focus that surprised him. And as the doctor kept telling her to push, her sobs grew louder. The thing that really made his chest hurt was the face that the sobs weren't from pain but from pain. But he couldn't do anything.
Rachel finally gave a loud scream and the doctor told her that was it and it was all over. Except it wasn't for them. The doctor began to explain what had happened.
A placental abruption. They had tried to save the baby but there had been too much distress. Nothing could have saved the baby. Would they like to hold it?
The nurse handed the baby gently to Rachel who had fallen silent after giving birth. Or should it be called giving death? Or was that perhaps too sardonic? Her quite whisper shook him from his thoughts.
"Caroline. I love you and you are the most beautiful baby I could have asked for. And I am so so so sorry that you never got a chance and we never got a chance."
He looked down and saw her cradling that baby to her chest an oddly serene look on her face. And then she looked up at him and he saw the tears shining in her eyes and she smiled the bravest and heart-breaking smile up at him and lifted the baby upwards.
He gently took her. He'd give up Beth a million times over than this. The room felt too silent and he wanted nothing more than to just run. But he owed her this. Owed them this. And so he holds her tightly and hopes and wishes for the sound of a loud cry, futile as it is.
None came. Their daughter had died before she had even been born. But she still had ten fingers and ten toes. Beautiful brown eyes. And a slight crease in her forehead that he often saw on Rachel as she slept. He nuzzled his face on the baby's cheek, memorising her scent. His eyes filled with tears and he handed her back to Rachel who sat silently.
They held her funeral. There were many tears but neither of them broke. It was the day that she would have turned two weeks old that Rachel had her breakdown. They were watching the TV and she had begun to cry. She had started off silently but soon her sobs grew in volume until she was positively howling with grief. He held her and rubbed her back and offered no words of comfort for at this point nothing could have comforted either of them. And as she shook in his arms, he began to shake too, until they both sat there huddled together grieving for the baby they had held so many dreams for. They sat there together until early morning when he gently lifted her and took her to their bed.
The next six months or so would always remain a very strange period in his life. Everything felt so muted, it was odd. Rachel became very withdrawn and quiet and many of their friends who they hadn't seen a while were often left bemused by her silence. They both continued with their lives but never did they pretend that nothing happened. Somedays, just after sex and before sleep, they would talk about Caroline in hushed voices. Their dead baby often felt like a secret to them, for they had known Caroline. They had known her so well that sometimes it hurt to think that they would never get the chance to show her how much they knew her.
He finally knew that things really were going to be okay when he came home early one day. And he heard Rachel singing. Of course she had sung after Caroline's death, but she hadn't really sung in that all-encompassing Rachel Berry way. But now she was singing.
She was sat at the piano and the words that she was singing quietly made his eyes sting. He quietly went to their bedroom and returned with his guitar. He joined her on the piano bench and played the chords and notes he knew so well. And then he began to sing with her those fateful words that had all those years ago tied the both of them together. And baby Caroline as well of course.
Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good
I've been inclined to believe it never would
A/N: Thank you very much for reading this. If you liked/loved/hated/despised it let me know with a review….