Glee and its characters are not mine.
Puck groaned as he rolled over, wiping his eyes while trying to focus on the clock. 3:33, only an hour since the last time he checked. He sat up and swung his feet off the edge of the bed, getting up to grab a glass of water. Well that, and to make sure she had passed out in an appropriate place this time.
He entered their small kitchen to find the usual suspects, an empty glass and uncapped prescription bottle. Tonight it had been vodka and Halcion, an improvement from the gin and Ambien she had used the previous night. He could see she had slowly made her way in the living room, her shoes and sweater creating a path that led to the couch.
He sighed when he found her, strung out on the sofa with one leg on and the other dangling lifelessly. Her head was resting at an angle and he gently shifted her so she wouldn't have any pain when she awoke. Not that she would actually feel it, seeing as she would begin her daily regimen of pain killers and wine, but still. The TV reflected off her small face, the colors drowning out her pale complexion. A few strands of tangled blonde locks framed her cheeks, and he pushed them back to see the scar along her hairline. He felt an ache in his chest as he ran his finger along it, memories haunting them both that neither one could seem to escape. Well, she did temporarily, but he knew that even before she opened her eyes it was always the first thing she saw.
He softly placed his hand on her chest, knowing she's alright but making sure because lately he could never tell. He finally found a slow but steady pulse and breathed a sigh of relief, even though Puck knew a heartbeat didn't mean you were alive. He lightly pulled her socks back on, knowing how cold she got at night, and gently slid her leg on the couch. He grabbed the blanket to cover her frail and tiny body, tucking it under her to make sure it stayed in place. He flicked off the TV and gently kissed her cold forehead, making his way to their bed to sleep alone.
Things hadn't always been this way, she hadn't always been that way. Once upon a time they had been happy, and not just because they had been forced together in high school, but true happiness. Puck climbed back in bed as her laugh echoed in his mind, faint just like her heartbeat. He thought about who she used to be, and began counting how many days it had been since he'd seen her smile. Her eyes were lifeless, her smile nonexistent, and Puck knew the only reason she stayed was because she had nowhere else to go.
He had loved Quinn with every beat his broken heart took, but he didn't know if she felt the same anymore. She had once told him that loving meant you were breathing, and lately she had found that hard to do. The ache in her chest and the hole in her heart made life unbearable and sometimes she had wished to fall asleep and never wake up. Of course he had just chalked it up to drunken rants and drug induced rambles, yet somewhere beneath the Jack and pills laid the truth that Puck couldn't accept. He made excuses for her behavior, telling their friends and family that she was dealing with it her way. In reality she just avoided everything, including him, but he had let her because having what was left of her was better than not having her at all.