Blinking at the End of the Road

It was always you, falling for me - now there's always time calling for me. I'm the light blinking at the end of the road, blink back to let me know...Blink back to let me know; it was always you.

Bad habits are often the most difficult to break. Falling back into the same old pattern, a lifeline as dark as obscurity itself; then there was the rope, thrown down to help a person out of his deepest mental trench, only to tangle and hang him as he tried to climb toward the light. Trying to keep his head above water, after willingly donning cement shoes, flailing as he sunk deeper into darkness.

…Damn metaphors.

"…Hello?" The bright voice was backed by the sound of running water. Refreshing, and cleansing; not like the stagnant kind that could drown somebody. It made him thirstier than he already was, but at the same time he really needed to take a leak. He didn't feel like moving yet either way.

"Uh…h'loh?"

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"…Who're you?"

"…Idiot. You called me Puckerman. What do you want? If this isn't important I'm hanging up because I was in the middle of something."

"Whoa hey, calm down…dude. Jus' callin' to talk. Where's Mr. Schue?"

"What?" The water in the background shut off, and there was a distant sound of rustling fabric that took away the voice for either a few seconds or years, he couldn't tell. Coming back, the voice was clearer, so pretty and bright that he could hear the grass growing. "First of all, my name is not 'dude', Puckerman, for the last time. Secondly, for what reason in the world would Mr. Schue be here? And why did you call me looking for him anyways? "

"'Cause…" A heavy pause in which Puck could hear more muffled shuffling from the other end, and his own deep breathing. Continuing quietly, as if trying not to break the relative stillness, "He said he'd be there - if I fell off the wagon again. He said I could call."

"He said what now?" The pretty voice inquired, and for a minute there was more noise in the background. Seconds later, Puck could hear a door open, shut, and finally just the voice again, pretty like a princess. "What do you mean if you…fell…wait a second. Puck."

"Mhm…yeah Princess?"

"Once again, not my name. But seriously though, Puck, are you drunk?"

"Nah. 'S jus' dark Princess. And I gotta pee."

"…Where are you?"

"Um…I'm in the closet."

A pause. "Oh…'kay? Hilariously ironic setting aside, why are you drunk in the closet?"

"'Cause…I didn' want him to find me again. He found me earlier and I couldn' run away. Then he took our money."

"He…what!" Abruptly deeper in tone, sharp surprise, reproach, and demand. "'He' who, Puck?"

"My dad."

"Your…wait, your…Oh. Shit." There was suddenly movement on the other end. Puck soon heard a zipper and keys jingling, then the pretty voice, soothing like water. "I'm on my way baby. Put the bottle down."

"But i's dark here, Princess. Mr. Shuester…?"

"I know, honey. But you called me, so I'm coming. Okay?" An engine started, and the pretty voice promised light.

"…Okay."

A/N: The Puckurt Community at LJ is currently holding a Drabble-Off, and this was my submission for Round One: Vice. I'm posting the link to the page on my profile, so please, tune in and cast your votes throughout the competition! Round Two will be posted on Tuesday, October 2nd. I do not own Glee or "Always" by Panic! at the Disco.