The Bleachers, a glee fanfic

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! :) This is something I've been working on for quite some time. Hope you like it!

The Bleachers

Rachel Berry wasn't much of a football fan. She tried to take an interest because Finn was the quarterback, but she always found herself preoccupied whenever they would have a game. She, however, loved the football field. The wind was cool and the space was quiet. The bleachers were big so no one would sit next to her, or crowd her, or throw slushies in her face (they'd trip at the metal stairs first). Sometimes she watched Finn practice, with Quinn glaring at a distance. Sometimes, when she was alone, she'd sing at the top of her lungs, loving how her voice rippled in with the air. Most of the time she would just sit and think about things, like if she should apply to Julliard or to Yale, or if Streisand was an acceptable glee club selection, or why, even though she was perfectly lovely, no one would love her. People assumed that in her spare time she would be practicing her solos or brushing up on her already expansive vocabulary, but the truth was she just liked to sit here and feel the wind on her hair.

It had been a week since 'the incident'. Glee club was almost like a war zone. On one side there was Santana, Mercedes and the rest of the girls sitting with a desolate looking Quinn. Mike and the football players, with Artie, sat on the other, trying to keep Finn from launching into the third side of the (she wants to say Bermuda?) triangle into Puck, whose face was still bruised. She'd never actually heard the whole story, just some whispers like the rest of the McKinley High population. Some say Puck and Quinn had been having an affair since freshman year, others would suggest that Puck took advantage of Quinn the night she got drunk at Jessica Redford's party, and some would blame Finn's inadequacies for Quinn's night with Puck. She wanted to talk to Finn. Just talk to him, really; she wouldn't even try to spring their whole thing on him. He was so pure and kind and good that something as devastating as this would surely have crushed him. He'd always be the first to leave during Glee practice. He'd avoid a conversation with her in the hallway, opting for that smile she used to love.

She wanted to hate Quinn. She couldn't understand how she could cheat on someone who was so sweet and devoted to her with his best friend. She was the one who stupidly got drunk and slept with Puck, who had a kind of universal reputation for being a jerk, so it wasn't like she didn't know what she was getting into. But Sue kicked her out of the cheerios and her parents kicked her out of the house and she kind of had no one left, no one but the glee club. And no matter what situation it was in, a baby was still a baby. Rachel would still smile at her during practice, and make her those chocolate chip and walnut cookies she craved so much.

And Puck, well, Puck was like a ghost. He'd go in and out of classes. His mohawk would blend in the crowd during the shuffle in between classes. No one really knew where he went for lunch or in the afternoons after glee practice when Kurt and Tina would stay to help Quinn catch up with her school work and Finn would pour his emotions out in another solo.

Rachel glanced beside her.

She knew.

At first it was just sitting in the bleachers. She'd sit and think about things, mostly about Finn shutting himself out to everyone (especially her) and he'd sit at the other end quietly, because he noticed that Quinn wasn't eating properly (that was his baby girl in there) and that she wouldn't even spare a glance at him. Then one day she sat next to him, and he didn't insult her or try to throw anything at her.

She found that she liked being silent. It was a welcome escape from glares and sobs and unbearable tension. She found herself spending more time in the bleachers, sometimes forgoing lunch with the glee club or choreography with Mr. Schuester. Puck would be surprised at how long she could go without talking, but he was far too distracted (and, to be honest, kind of grateful for her company).

"Rachel?" Finn asked, one afternoon, as they were practicing for their duet in the auditorium. She had suddenly stopped singing and was staring at him with probing eyes. Rachel had wanted to leave after rehearsals but Finn, who was trying to distract himself with as much activities as he can, insisted they practice in the auditorium to 'try and see how our voices would work with the space'. She knew that he already knew, but she obliged him anyway. It kind of sucked liking him sometimes.

"You can't avoid it forever, Finn. You have to talk about it," she began, noticing him wince from the confrontation. She figured now was a good time to bring 'it' up. "I'm here. I can listen."

Finn looked at her, confused and angry and sad, before saying, "let's take it from the second verse?"

Rachel frowned. She turned around and left.

A few minutes later, she found herself sitting on the bleachers again. This time, the sun wasn't shining and the wind wasn't warm. The sky was an ominous gray and her bare legs were cold from the wind. She rubbed her palms together for warmth.

"Here," Puck said, handing her his jacket.

"Thanks," she whispered, draping them over her legs.

It was a start.

The rumors got some of it right, at least; Quinn was drunk on wine coolers, it was at some party (he'd forgotten, he said, he'd rather forget that night) but what the rest of the world didn't know was that he claimed responsibility. He said he wanted to take care of both the baby and Quinn. He stole the cupcake fund money for her. He expanded his pool cleaning business to help her pay the medical bills.

"That's still my kid. I'm not like my deadbeat dad; I can take care of them," he explained with conviction. She smiled at his chivalry.

"I'm sure she'll realize that. Right now she's just angry and confused, and you need to give her a little more time," Rachel was lying. It had been three months and still, no one was saying a word.

He laughed bitterly. "Thanks anyway," and, after a few moments, as if reading the sad smile on her face, added, "he was always a dense coward. I say forget about him."

Her phone chimed noisily as she tried to reach for it on the night stand. It was two in the morning and Puck was calling.

"Hello?" she answered groggily.

"She gave it away," he said on the other line, "I didn't even know she was in labor."

"Noah," she didn't really know what to say right now. What would you reply to that?

"Can I come up?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"Where are you?" she asked, getting out of bed.

"Open your window," he said, and, true enough, she found him looking up, the moonlight highlighting the wet streaks in his face.

Rachel didn't even think twice. "I'll open the door for you."

One moment he was ranting, and then he was swatting tears from his face angrily, her heart breaking at the sadness of it all, and before they knew it his hands were roaming her back and she was holding on to his arms and his lips were on hers and it felt really, really good so they didn't stop. This was an easier way of dealing with sadness. It was also the first time she didn't really wish he was taller and he didn't really want her to be anything but herself.

So they moved from the bleachers to the bed, and the sofa, and the truck, and in empty classrooms during Math class. It was rough and urgent and kind of amazing and even though they knew this could possibly complicate things in the future, right now it was the best escape they could come up with.

They always came back to the bleachers.

(not necessarily not talking)

But they always came back.

Most of the time they were silent. Sometimes she would make mundane comments about the weather, or the song choice at Glee practice, and sometimes he would tell her that he preferred black socks to white socks or list the many, many things wrong with Finn. Which, supposedly being in love with Finn and all, should have offended her, but instead she found herself nodding to his every point. Though some were exaggerated or even completely made up, essentially Puck was (surprisingly) right.

"He's a coward."

He can't even let me go; it's almost like he has to string me along just in case.

"He's a pushover."

He gave up homework to keep up with football, glee and his job after school. Homework!

"I don't even know why he's the lead. Did you hear me sing Sweet Caroline?"

I am Glee captain after all, maybe there's something I could do...

Whenever he would pull her closer and leave a trail of kisses on her neck, she'd like to think she was helping him get over Quinn too.

You could say they were friends (with benefits) or something to that effect.

Then one day Puck didn't show up.

Quinn had cornered him after practice, waiting for the other members of the club to leave before speaking. She had that innocent-damsel-in-distress look in her eyes which he was kind of still a sucker for, and her pink lips were situated in a perfect pout Puck had to wonder if she'd practiced it beforehand. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead let out a heavy sob as she buried her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry I didn't tell you I gave her away," she apologized, and at the mention of her, Puck softened. He put his arms around her comfortingly, sitting her down while whispering 'It's okay' like it was a mantra. It was far from okay, but Quinn looked so miserable and broken and it was her baby girl that she let go too that Puck decided to let it slide.

"No one would understand," she added softly, looking up at him, "no one but you." She leaned her head back into his chest.

The next day Rachel didn't, too.

"I'm ready to talk," Finn said sadly, looking at her. Mr. Schuester had broken them down into groups and being the two leads, sent them to the far side of the room. She excused them with her polite smile and confusing grammar (which made anyone say yes to her) and Finn led her to an empty classroom.

"This is my favorite part of the day," he started, "the only part I look forward to." He inched closer and put his hand on her cheek gently. "Because I get to spend it with you."

And of course Rachel gave in, how could she not? He was sincere and everything she imagined him to be. Their first kiss was perfect, gentle and filled with so much hope and it was finally here, Finn was finally hers, and it felt—

(she tried so hard to repress the fact that she missed his calloused hands)

—not like she thought it would, but... good. Nonetheless.

The day after that, both of them didn't show up, and both of them knew it.

It made them kind of sad, despite the fact that Quinn had willingly dragged Puck to a post-baby clothes shopping spree and Finn and Rachel were out on their first official date, because they both knew they were losing something, however twisted, lonely and illicit, real.

He didn't know how it happened, but as he was laying her down the bed, Puck wished she'd been tinier. She smelled like those sickly sweet floral perfumes that gave him a headache. He hated that. He thought by removing her clothes it would rid her of the smell but he realized that nothing can distract him from the fact that he wished Quinn Fabray, blond, hot, cheerleader, was abrasive, domineering, talented Rachel Berry instead.

And her hands were so used to prickly shaved heads that she actually thought 'your hair is too soft' was an acceptable excuse for breaking up with Finn. She lied about her dads coming home early and pushed him out the door before he could even say a decent goodbye.

They were both glutton for punishments, they figured.

Rachel woke up at six in the morning everyday for her physical and vocal exercises. She took every AP class they had for sophomores just in case her talent wasn't enough of a skill (impossible, she laughed off, but she did it still). She had Glee and dance and vocal lessons and her fathers recently proposed she should be studying French too because of globalization. She started last week. She kind of hated trying to be perfect sometimes.

Puck spends two hours at the gym everyday, on top of football practice, Glee, remedial classes and his pool cleaning business. He wanted to get out of Lima by exhausting every possibility he can: football scholarship, singing scholarship (he heard it from Finn), college just outside of the state, or even earning enough money to move to LA and do the Hollywood thing (Rachel must have rubbed off on him). Still, people dismissed his efforts and saw him for the mohawk wearing tough jock only a part of him was.

They must belong together.

Things with Quinn and Finn ended somewhere along the way, or whatever, since they never really began. They were more like an intermission to a really good Broadway musical, the part where you wipe your opera glasses clean and comment on how nice the first act was to the person sharing the booth with you.

They came back to the bleachers.

It was a nice enough day; Rachel didn't go to dance lessons because she'd heard from Mike that football practice was cancelled this afternoon. Sure enough, he was there, sitting quietly. His stomach gave a little flip when he saw her (not that he'd ever admit that; he was a stud after all) and she sat down beside him, smoothing out her skirt before perching daintily on the metal seats.

"Don't you have dance lessons today?" he said without really thinking, afraid of the silence and its implications. He suddenly regretted it. Why the hell would he remember she had dance lessons today?

Rachel smiled, and after a breath, answered, "I missed you."

He nodded in response and they sat there in silence for the rest of the afternoon.

I missed you too.

Everyone noticed how she would look at him whenever she sang, even at duets, when Finn would get this lost expression on his face because his leading lady's eyes were on someone else. No one was really surprised when Mr. Schuester gave Puck a duet with Rachel for Reigonals, chalking it up to "your voices blend really well together" which was adult awkward speak for "your chemistry together is undeniable and Rachel wouldn't stop harassing me until I did it".

Of course they sounded ridiculously amazing.

Then there was nothing left for them to do but kiss.

(publicly of course; he's kissed her a million times in shadows)

It wasn't the grand gesture some of them had expected. After all, people were bound to wonder why Rachel Berry started showing up to football games wearing red and why Noah Puckerman became less of a bully and more of a white knight, which was firmly established with the Stevenson incident. They spent two weekends in detention trying to fix the dent Stevenson's head made in the lockers after he had attempted (not even succeeded, attempted) to slushie Rachel.

Even Rachel was half expecting a declaration of love or another serenade, at least. But she knew him, and she's used to him, and she knows that he's not like that, and he will never be like that. That was the problem before; Quinn wanted him to change too much and Finn never dared her to even try to be better.

So it was just another day, right after Glee practice. She had finished a duet with Finn, and she thinks it may be because she looked at him when she sang don't know what you're doing to me with your love that as everyone was preparing to leave, he took her hand, leaned down, and kissed her gently on the lips. Her other hand rested comfortably on his chest, and it was almost like they'd been doing it forever (which was almost the case). She bit back what she knew could be the biggest grin she could ever wear on her face, and bowed her head down meekly to hide it. He picked up his bag, his face adorned with the usual smirk, and they walked out together, his hand finding hers before they could even reach the door.

Brittany was smiling, the rest of them too stunned to say anything else, Mr. Schuester included.

Tomorrow would be filled with questions and surprised looks. Tonight, Rachel had packed snacks and a blanket for her and Noah. The metal bleachers got cold at night and she wanted them to be warm.