Title: Through Tragedy Comes Growth
Author: K00K
Rating: T
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Puck x Kurt; Klaine near the end
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Friendship
Warning: Light language, slash near the end, religious subjects.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Author Notes: FINALLY I get to write a religious fic. I'm a generally spiritual person, and I've been dying to post something like this for awhile. I was never really sure what kind of feedback I'd get, though. This is just a little deleted scene I like to think took place the weekend before Puck went to temple with his Nana. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write something, I actually started this halfway through the premiere of Grilled Cheesus, forgot about it, then stumbled upon it again over the weekend.
Summary: He never really expected to have this conversation with Kurt Hummel of all people.
Word Count: 3, 443
Status: Complete

Puck muttered as he slammed his gym locker shut. Friday afternoon practice had just ended and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. This week had been exhausting, especially with the extra heap about Kurt's dad. He and Kurt weren't particularly close or anything, they were pretty civil towards one another this year, but he still felt for the dude. He knew what it was like to lose a father, so he could empathize.

See? He wasn't a total jackass. In fact, he felt that over the summer he'd grown into some better version of himself. He wasn't as angry at the world as he used to be. Glee club may have had something to do with that, but he would jump off of a building before admit that out loud to someone.

He checked his backpack to make sure he had all of his books for homework (because he did his homework now) and cursed loudly as he noticed his missing US History book. Slinging the black bag on his back, he strolled out of the almost empty locker room and headed towards the junior hallway. He tracked down the locker and swung it open, trying not to hum that Billy Joel song out loud.

Just as he was about to pull the book out, a frustrated cry and the sound of slamming metal rang through the empty hall. He dropped the book in surprise, letting out a whispered 'shit!' as he whipped his head towards the sound. Way down the hall he made out the all too familiar figure of Kurt Hummel staring at the beige metal.

He weighed his options. On one hand, he and Kurt hadn't really spoken lately. Actually, he was pretty sure they hadn't said a word to each other since Regionals last year. He wouldn't have a clue what to say; despite living with two women he was useless in trying to comfort them.

Yet on the other, offering help might be another step towards his 'be a better person' phenomenon. It could also be his good Jewish deed for the day. Finn's whole 'grilled cheesus' experience was sort of inspiring him, even if it was creepy beyond belief. He wasn't one to judge another's religious standards, even if it meant worshipping melted cheese. (Pastafarianism came to mind, but he quickly pushed it aside.)

Deciding to go for Good Samaritan, he picked up the book, shut his locker quietly and strolled down the hall. Thankfully, Kurt didn't notice him right away. He had a feeling that if the countertenor did, he would have bolted. When he reached him, he opened his mouth to say something…but clamped it shut quickly, cursing himself for not coming up with anything to say on the short walk over.

"Puck, I really don't have time for whatever derogatory comment you have," he husked, and Puck felt his body go rigid as he realized that Kurt was crying. Yeah, he knew it was a possibility, but he didn't like seeing girls cry…and Kurt was as close to a girl as they get without being a transvestite, so it was pretty much the same thing.

It took a moment for the actual words to sink in. "What? No, dude, I wasn't gonna say anything like that. You don't deserve that, especially not this week." He realized he sort of sounded like a douche, saying Kurt didn't deserve to be called 'fag' and 'butt muncher' when in reality just one year ago he was spewing these phrases regularly…but he didn't feel that way anymore, and that was what was important.

Kurt blinked, though otherwise his emotions stayed relatively in check. "Then what?"

Be honest, a voice scolded in the back of his mind. You've learned the hard way that lying only makes things worse.

"I just…feel like I have something to say."

"Please, Puck…" Kurt sighed, wrapping his messenger bag's strap over his shoulder. "Please don't throw pity and sympathy at me just because you feel as though you have to. I don't think I could handle that right now."

It was Puck's turn to blink in surprise, though he didn't try to hide it. "No, stop assuming stuff, that's not what I wanted to say. I don't have pity or sympathy. I mean-no, that's not what I meant, I don't mean I don't care or anything, I mean that I have…shit…"

"I have to get to the hospital-"

"Shut up-no, shit! Just…stop talking for two seconds and just listen, okay? I probably should've planned this, I know, but if I don't try and get it out now I don't think I will. And I want to." He didn't miss Kurt glance down the hall towards the exit, looking as though he really didn't want to be there at the moment, but felt like shouting in Hebrew when the boy nodded and shifted so he was leaning back against the locker.

"Okay…what is it you want to say?" he asked calmly…much too calmly for someone in his situation.

"I just…I feel for you, dude." He wouldn't deny worrying just a bit when Kurt didn't chew him out for calling him 'dude' twice. "For losing your dad, or maybe losing your dad, or whatever. My pop walked out on my family when I was a kid, so I ca-empathize! That's what I was trying to say earlier. I can empathize. I've been there, little dude, even if I was nine, I can still feel it like it happened yesterday. And I know it's like, twice as worse for you, 'cause you'd be like an orphan or something…but I just don't want you to feel that like…you're alone. 'Cause you're not."

He nodded assertively as he finished, shoving his fists in his jeans' pockets. Kurt just sort of watched him for what felt like ages, and Puck's head ducked a bit under the scrutiny. Suddenly, the icy, confused mask cracked and a choked sob forced its way out of his throat. Puck's eyebrows furrowed in concern, and instead of distancing himself from the obvious breakdown approaching, he took another step forward.

"I know this is a fucking stupid question, but…are you okay?"

Kurt shook his head shakily, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing a tear to leave a wet streak down his pale cheek. His breath caught a few times as he tried to speak, but it took him a moment to calm himself. "The last thing he said, at least in person, was that he was disappointed in me. I didn't think twice about it as I left. It was over something really stupid; we have dinner together every Friday night, it's been a tradition since my mom was around. Sometimes Finn and Carole come over, so I don't know if he's mentioned it…" Puck nodded at the hesitating pause.

"Yeah, he said something about it a few times. He said he likes going, that it's not as overbearing as moving in so fast but still makes him feel like you two are part of his family. He needs that. You need it, too." Puck shut his mouth with an audible click, realizing that he was rambling.

"Yeah…" Kurt croaked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the tan metal again. "I really do. I didn't realize it at the time, everything else seemed so much more important. I'd forgotten what it used to mean to us. And he was…he's never disappointed in me. I usually make sure of it. He-He probably thinks I've forgotten about her. I haven't!" he added quickly, as if he had to defend himself. Puck stared back at him, not showing any sign of arguing. "I can't lose him…" he whimpered, quite pathetically he'd observe later when thinking back on the encounter, as he slid down the wall.

Puck wondered briefly if the material of his pants was getting dirty, but waved it off. Not important; focus. Surprising himself, the running back dropped down onto the tiled floor as well, sitting cross-legged directly across from the brunette.

More silence passed between them, but it was oddly comfortable. Instead of racking his brain to find something to say, Puck just analyzed what Kurt had been saying and if there was anything he was missing; Kurt didn't seem to mind the lack of response. He quietly took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.

"Do you think I was too harsh during glee? For giving in to Miss Sylvester?" he asked, jolting Puck from the stillness that had enveloped them.

He pursed his lips, thinking about the situation. He tried to picture it from Kurt's point of view, but honestly couldn't even imagine his life without his faith. This struck up another question that he saved for later. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I wanna say no, but I wanna say yes. It's hard to like-picture not believing in God. I've always believed in God."

"How?"

The question, as simple as it was, startled him. There were so many answers to that. Damn, he never thought he'd be having this conversation with Kurt Hummel of all people. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I mean…" He straightened himself up against the wall, placing his hands politely in his lap. "You got your best friend's girlfriend-who you're in love with and doesn't love you back-pregnant, and was forced to give it away. I know you wanted to keep it, it was easy to see how much you loved that little girl if you're as perceptive as I am. Why would God let that happen? Why would He take something you were pretty much willing to give up your lifestyle for away like that?"

Puck laughed humorlessly, looking away. "I ask myself that almost every day. I did love Beth, well, I still do. She's my little girl, I can't think of her in any other way. But…I couldn't raise a baby, Kurt. I don't have the resources. I'd rather she was taken care of by Miss Corcoran than have me fail her as a parent."

Kurt fell quiet again, watching him, searching his expression for something, but he didn't know what. "I think you would've made an awesome dad."

A snort left him, accompanied by an exaggerated eye roll. "Yeah, and Schue's gonna give us the next solo."

"I'm being serious. Whenever I call you a Neanderthal, it's merely an insult. By now, it's almost a term of endearment." He paused. "You and my father are very similar, you know. Both so clueless and so very male…but you have heart and passion. When is-" He cut himself off, shaking his head again and looking down towards the floor.

"What?" Puck prompted, leaning in. Kurt looked up, searching him again.

"I was going to say…'when is love never enough'? I know when it isn't, though. Proof is lying connected to an IV about six blocks away."

"God isn't punishing us," Puck blurted out, hoping he didn't sound too preachy. "This is what I've been taught, at least, and it works for me. He isn't punishing us, but he isn't failing us, either. From tragedy comes growth."

"Through tragedy comes growth," Kurt echoed, pulling his legs up to his chest. "I…don't think I can accept that. Not right now, at least…not in the place I'm in. I'll save that for…for when I can think properly. It seems I'm either thinking too little or too much, lately."

"I have a question, if like, you don't mind…"

"Hm?" he hummed, looking up from his knees.

"If you don't believe in God-and while I can't really fathom how, I still respect it and shit-what do you believe in? Just…nothing?" he questioned, making sure he didn't offend him. He saw how irritated the boy was when he first announced he didn't believe in God and everyone practically pounced on him. Quinn looked like she was about to burn him with her glare.

"I don't know what to believe…" he confessed, dropping his gaze again. "I used to be agnostic. Just sort of believing in a higher being, though not a specific one. How could a higher being, no matter who or what, do this to me? What pleasure do they take out of killing both of my parents?"

"You don't know your dad's gonna die. He's not getting worse."

"He's not getting better, either. While you can't fathom how I don't believe in a god, I don't know how you do…"

Puck hesitated. "I…I'm planning on going to Temple with my Na-grandma this weekend. Would you mind if I prayed for you? I'd feel weird if you didn't know about it but I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"I'd…actually, I'd like that a lot. This whole conversation's been completely surreal for me anyway, so why not?"

"Know what you mean…you're the last person I'd expect to have this kind of conversation with. But then again, I can't think of too many outside of my family that wouldn't go ballistic on me."

"Why? You seem pretty dedicated. You regularly refer to yourself as a 'hot Jew stud'."

"Well yeah, I'm a proud hot Jew stud. But lots of people rag on Jews. Even Quinn doesn't really approve of my religion. She's never really said it out loud, but whenever I talk about it, she just withdraws or glares," he admitted, shrugging nonchalantly. It was too easy to pretend it didn't hurt whenever she rejected his views-he wondered briefly if it was even pretending anymore.

"That's why I avoid the subject, usually…I can't believe I'm saying this, Noah Puckerman, but I'm glad we had a civilized, respectful conversation about this. I almost sort of feel better, to get all of that off of my chest if nothing…" he sighed, shrinking down.

Puck watched him, a million questions running through his mind, but pushed them all aside. They could wait.

The jock pushed himself up off of the ground and stuck out a hand to help Kurt up, who stared at it warily for a few moments before accepting it. Predictably, he dusted off the back of his pants of any dust or dirt. He looked back up at Puck, nodded, and turned. Puck watched him glide towards the exit with the composed grace no one had seen from him for the past week, and mentally prided himself. Don't let it ever be said that Noah Puckerman can't do good.

The New Directions and a few of the Warblers all milled around the McKinley choir room, socializing and laughing, listening to music and singing and dancing along. It was mid-March, and while the drama of Regionals was approaching quickly, the two show choirs had set their rivalry aside to plan a surprise birthday party for one Kurt Hummel.

Puck surveyed the room. Finn, Quinn, Santana, Mike and Tina were conversing in the corner with some black kid named David, Rachel was arguing with the Warbler Asian about whose playlist to use during the party and everyone else was putting up last minute decorations. He had to laugh when he spotted Brittany telling Mr. Schuester the story how she was thrown out of the zoo. That was a good one.

Suddenly, Mercedes stood up on a chair, shushing everyone. "Blaine just texted me, they're in the school. Y'all need to-Santana, shut your trap! Puck, kill the lights!"

Puck followed her orders, then felt his way around towards everyone else. He felt something big and squishy-most likely Finn.

"…didn't know you could pick locks. Are you secretly an ex-delinquent? Is that your downfall? I'm still set on disproving your perfection."

"I'm sorry, Kurt, you'll just have to face the fact that it's true. I'm absolutely, positively perfect. You should just feel lucky that you have such an awesome boyfriend."The choir room tittered in laughter at the couple's banter echoing through the empty halls.

"Oh my God, my dad was right. Hair product can seep into your brain. Maybe we should go break into the hospital instead of my old choir room and get you checked out."

"Kurt, with all due respect…shut up. And my hair looks awesome."

"Yeah, if we're going to a Dep commercial shoot."

Suddenly, there was a bit of muffling, an array of scuffles, then two shadows appeared at the door. The second Blaine threw the door open, Mr. Schuester flicked the lights on, and everyone shouted, "Surprise!"

Kurt stared at the room, obviously in shock, still holding onto his boyfriend's hand. His face broke out into a grin and he looked back between Blaine, the rest of his friends and Mr. Schuester. "Oh my God. Oh my God! I thought you all forgot! You jerk!" he laughed, swatting Blaine on the shoulder. Blaine just smiled and placed a kiss on Kurt's temple before slinging an arm around his waist and bringing him more into the room.

After that, the party slipped into full swing. Rachel and Kurt sang a heartfelt duet, Brittany started up a game of truth or dare and Santana was shot down a comical amount of times by Blaine. She wasn't trying to get him to cheat on Kurt, though…she was offering strictly threesomes or foursomes if Brittany was up to it.

Puck smiled and goofed around with Finn and Sam, but he kept shooting glances at Kurt. Ever since their conversation that Friday afternoon, he felt like he had taken Kurt on as some sort of responsibility. If he knew about the severity of the Karofsky situation earlier, he would've stepped in in a heartbeat. It wasn't until about three quarters into the party, when the girls had pulled Blaine into their sea of estrogen to interrogate his intentions with Kurt, that Puck finally got to pull Kurt aside.

"Hello, Puck," Kurt half-smiled, half-hummed, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple. "You're growing your mohawk back. I never got to tell you that I approve."

Puck blinked. "Seriously? I'd think you'd bitch about how it's like, a fashion abomination or something."

"I thought I would, too. Guess I'm just full of surprises tonight. Any reason in particular you literally pulled me into a corner?" His annoyed tone was obviously joking, and Puck felt a sense of pride that they had grown close enough where Kurt could screw around with him.

"I just, uh…you know, the last time we got to talk alone we...I mean you…"

"I was an absolute wreck…I know." Pause. "You want to know how I'm doing, then, I suppose?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you're my boy, now, Kurt. You've officially got Puckerone on your side," Puck grinned, flexing his guns. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Charming. What a catch, you are." He swished his drink around in its plastic cup a bit before finally looking up. "Remember when we were talking, and I asked why loving my dad wasn't enough, and…you said, uhm…through tragedy comes growth. Remember that?" It was sort of amazing how quickly Kurt switched from emotion to emotion-from ecstatic to morose to nervous, all in a minute flat.

"Yeah, yeah of course. I was just trying to say that like…we're not being punished. Whenever we're faced with an issue, it's supposed to be, like…an opportunity. You know?" Puck ended his attempted speech, realizing he sounded like an absolute idiot. When didn't he?

To his surprise, though, Kurt just nodded, then spoke after a second. "When my…When my dad got better, we grew closer than ever. It was like a wake-up call of how easily we could lose each other. Especially…and then especially with the Karofsky issue. When he…threatened me…that was the last straw. My dad…he didn't want to lose me-mentally or physically-so he transferred me into Dalton." The brunette paused then, looking back over to their friends to catch eyes with Blaine, who smiled shyly and waved. Kurt returned the action, the turned back to Puck. "You were right, Puck. I know I said I couldn't accept it back then, and I'm not saying I'm suddenly converted to Judaism…but I get it. I finally get it."

Puck looked over to where Kurt had, observing Blaine. The way they looked at each other, they were obviously smitten beyond belief. It was almost as stomach-churning as Finn and Rachel when they sang duets (when they were dating, at least). Deciding that this Blaine kid was worthy of his boy Kurt's affections, Puck slung an arm around his new friend and directed them towards the Warbler to halfheartedly torture him.

"It's a shame you aren't converting to Judaism, though," he began, taking a sip of his Mountain Dew. "I think you could totally rock a yarmulke…"

A/N: The spelling of yarmulke frightens me. Someone tell me if I got it wrong, that's what Wikipedia told me...