Passing

It seems that they always pass each other when they need each other the most.

I haven't published anything for a while, and I certainly haven't published anything in the "Glee" fandom before. But it's my newest obsession so after I wrote this, I figured I might as well give it a shot and publish. Hope you enjoy it, at least a little.

Chapter 1

Staring at the golden stars plastering her locker, she stiffened, squaring her shoulders. Biting her lip delicately, she nodded resolutely, as if making an unbreakable vow. She was. It was a requirement. Rachel Berry would be star.

Closing her locker, she fell back, her head tipping back against the cool metal. She breathed deeply, her eyes closing luxuriously. It was her spotlight, hot in her face. She was adored and sought after. Sought after by boys like…

Her eyes flickered, still shut, because she dreaded opening her eyes to affirm what she already knew. How could she not? Chilly and hard, like getting slapped with an iceberg; of course she had been humiliated again. Yet, she no longer seethed as she once had. Her wardrobe was built to withstand the permanent stains; built to create enough outfits to last for a month. No, all she felt now, sagging, was disconsolate.

But stars did not slouch. Standing rigidly, her tongue probed speculatively. Grape. Her eyes opened, slowly, to prevent the burning sensation of corn syrup. Her head turned, searching for the tell-tale cup.

"'Sup Berry?" a boy catcalled, walking backward with smirk as he disappeared into the crowd. "I thought you liked grape?"

She had dated him once. Though admittedly, only for a few days. She had thought, perhaps, after landing a boyfriend like him, she would not get harassed. Maybe she would finally be treated… like everyone else. Was it sad, that all she wanted was to be treated like a normal girl? Because stars did not get slushie facials. And just as Noah Puckerman had demonstrated, she was no star.

He broke her spirit, just in passing.

Slumped against the wall, he hid his face because he looked nothing like Puck. Puck would not care. Puck would not care that he would have no part in the upbringing of a special little girl. Puck would not care, because it would mean that he would have no responsibility. Puck would not care. And Puck would not feel like crying. But Noah did.

Noah would cry. Noah would beg to be a part of everything. To be a part of his little girl's life. Noah would…

But Puck beat Noah into submission. Puck would throw a slushie in Rachel Berry's face because someone had to feel worse than him. But Puck would never admit he threw a slushie to make someone else feel worse because he felt pathetic. No, Puck would throw a slushie because it was funny. He would throw a slushie because he could. He would throw a slushie because he was a badass.

So Puck stood up, just as he thought he should – straight, tall, and manly. Puck punched a locker and nodded at the respectable dent. But he didn't punch a locker because he was upset. He punched a locker because he was strong.

A badass would walk away like it was no big deal. He did not move. He kept staring at the dent, vulnerable. He felt like his world had come crashing down, and he did not know how to move on. Noah looked at the dent, and bowed his head forward. His forehead touched the icy steel as his fists blindly pounded whosever locker happened to be in reach.

A soft hand fell upon his, curling around his fist lightly, as if to stop it, but not knowing how. "Yes?" he growled, not turning around, because there just might have been moisture in his eyes.

"Sor-sorry," a familiar voice squeaked fearfully, but the hand remained on his.

He shut his eyes slowly, using his other hand to rub his temples, not to wipe his eyes. Sighing, his frame heaved before he threw the hand off of his and peered behind him. "Yes?" he repeated, looking at Rachel Berry like she was crazy. She was.

She looked at him blankly, her eyes searching his face, wide with bewilderment.

Puck would've stormed past her, "accidentally," banging into her as he stomped by. But Noah still could not move. "What?" he said through gritted teeth. "Unless you've got something that's pretty fucking important to say to me…"

"Are you okay?" she inquired timidly. Her eyes would not leave his face.

"Fine," he snarled venomously.

She flinched. "Oh… it's just…" she started, faltering as she looked away.

Noah realized he was being exceptionally rude. "Sorry," he said gruffly, "I've just got some shit to deal with."

She stepped away, but started looking at him again. She was never usually so quiet.

"What?" he said, exasperated. "Just go on and say whatever the fuck you want to say, Berry. I don't have the time to stand here entertaining your crazy thoughts all day."

She swallowed, frowning deeply, her brow creased. "It's just you looked so demure, Noah. I was wondering if you needed a trained ear to pour your problems out to. I must say that when needed, I would be an exceptional listener. Obviously, I would not expect you to tell me anything considering… the circumstances. However, as a person who is determined to be labeled a "Good Samaritan" by the ever-present press, if you ever find that you need someone to talk to…"

"Shit Berry, I got it. I can tell you shit. Thanks. Now will you go?" Puck looked down at her expectantly.

"Oh… okay…" She looked dejected.

He realized that she did not need to be so nice. He had thrown a slushie in her face, the ultimate humiliation at McKinley High, only hours ago. Noah felt ashamed. "I'm…" Noah started, rubbing the back of his head. But he found could not finish. Puck's reputation would not allow it. Sorry? Puck was not sorry. He had thrown a slushie in Rachel Berry's face, just as the world order dictated. Puck knew that to be on top, he had to act like he was on top. High school was a war; slushie or be slushied.

She was looking at him, waiting for him to finish.

"I'm fine," he said decidedly, eyes flashing. "Fine."

"Oh, okay…" She paused, drinking in the perturbed expression on his face. "I wasn't spying on you, I swear," she said quickly. "You were just pounding on my locker, so I… I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." Her fingers lightly brushed his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he said, his heart tightening.

She nodded.

He nodded.

They stared.

"Well," she said finally, fidgeting, "I hope you soon find that you are well." She gave him a look that he could not seem to place. She looked at him as if she knew… him. "Farewell, Noah."

Noah watched Rachel Berry walk away, reminding him that someone had cared, and he had thrown a slushie in her face. "Sorry…" he whispered to the air. Just in passing, he was reminded that he was a Lima loser.

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