AN: I own nothing in this fic! The song is "Radio" by He is We. It's a lovely song and everyone should go and listen to it. I hope you enjoy this.
A soft knock on the door. If Rachel hadn't been sat in the living room of her house she would be unaware that anyone was there. Her father's had gone out for the evening and she had told them no one would be coming over. So she had set up camp on the couch, watching a musicals marathon. All three "A Star is Born" versions, although Judy would always be her favourite so she had purposefully left that one until last. But here she was, pyjamas on, hair scarped up in to a messy bun, no make up on, answering the door to Noah Puckerman. And while she would normally be embarrassed by her appearance she didn't even think about it. The look in his eyes was her main concern. Or rather, the fact that his eyes were completely unfocused on anything, a deadness that she had never seen in him. He was usually so filled with life and he expressed that through his eyes. She wanted to reach up and make him look at her but she knew that that would be inappropriate, especially since neither of them had spoken in the minutes that had passed from her opening the door.
"Noah, what are you doing here?" Her voice broke the silence around them but not his far away gaze, he was looking over her and in to the house. Unseeing. His response however alerted her to the fact that he did actually know she was there standing in front of him.
"I needed to talk to somebody..." He hadn't moved, hadn't looked at her once. This was seriously starting to freak her out. But why had he chosen her to talk to? What could she do to help him?
"Ok, but why are you here? Noah, you're kind of freaking me out." At this he looked down at her, and she saw something then. A small flicker of life on his face. This time she really did reach up and brush her hand along his cheek, she needed him to at least explain this situation to her.
"I needed to talk to somebody who...who knew the truth. The real reason that I, that he...He's dead." Her hand dropped from his face, and part of her missed the contact, but her other hand had come up to cover her mouth. She knew she must have looked completely shocked but it didn't seem to bother him. He still stood there, completely out of it. She reached down and took one of his hands, pulling him in to the house. "Upstairs." He turned to look at her from where he'd stumbled in to her living room. "Noah, go and wait for me upstairs. I'll get you a drink and we can talk about it." He nodded his head slowly and proceeded to tackle the stairs as she made her way in to the kitchen.
He wasn't drunk, she knew that much for sure. A drunk Noah would have already started shouting and rambling on about everything. This was much harder to deal with. He was completely shut down. He probably didn't even know how he got here. She had noticed that his truck wasn't parked in her driveway which probably meant that he had walked here, whether he knew where he was going or not was still a mystery. As she made him a warm cup of coffee, she thought back to the day she realised what exactly was going on at the Puckerman house. It was summer and her Dads had invited Noah over for a play date. Bearing in mind they were both 8 years old so they didn't really play any more. Just hung out and talked. It was so hot that she had been in the pool, trying to convince him to come in with her. He was adamant that he wouldn't, even though he'd brought his swimming stuff with him. She could hear his voice in her head, scared and ashamed, "If I come in you have to promise not to tell anyone." She didn't understand until she saw it. When he took his T-shirt off his back was covered in scars and welts. She swam over to the side of the pool and tried to touch him but he just cringed away from her. "Don't tell anyone I showed you Rachel, promise? Or he'll be mad." She had promised, and she hadn't told anyone about it, until her father's told her one day that Mr Puckerman had walked out on his family. Then she couldn't help but tell them the truth. They were shocked but she was happy, happy that he could no longer hurt Noah. Little did she know that he was so hurt it would be the end of their friendship for a considerable amount of time. That it was that night that caused the rift between them.
She made her way upstairs, still thinking about that day in summer. As she reached the door she could hear him humming some tune to himself, he'd turned her ipod on low and was humming along to whatever had come on. She sat down next to him on the edge of her bed and passed him the cup. He however made no move to take it from her so she nudged his leg with her own to get his attention, he was staring at the carpet currently and it was very unnerving.
"Noah, I made you a drink. It's warm. I didn't know if you had sugar or anything so -"
"She was crying. She was actually crying when she told me. That man finally drunk himself to oblivion and she cried. And Sarah, she didn't even know him. She didn't know why my Ma was... After everything, she cried over him. And I'm just sat there and I don't know how to feel Rachel. I don't know what to feel. I just, I'm so, I'm just numb. I can't, I can't -" She quickly put the cup on her bed side table and reached over and hugged him. He made no move to return the gesture so she just clung to him. Hoping that anything would help him through this. She was so afraid for him in that minute, so scared that he would do something foolish. But she was also grateful that he felt that he could come to her and find some sort of solace. Some peace.
"When did it happen?" She was staring at the same bit of the carpet as him. Running one of her hands up and down his spine while the other was wrapped around his arm.
"I didn't ask. I had to get out of there. It felt toxic. Like he was there. Like it used to. Before." She started drawing patterns on his back, wondering if the marks were still there. Whether anyone had ever asked what they were from if they were. Although she doubted any of the women he'd been with would have cared particularly. She started to hum along to the song that had filtered in to the room, much like he had done before. That seemed to trigger something in him, he put his hands on his face and she knew he was crying. Silently. She wouldn't say anything, make him feel like less of a man, just continue humming until he'd got it out of his system.
She woke up in the morning and he was gone. She remembered moving them to lie on her bed, he was in no state to go home. He didn't want to anyway but still. He was still staring in to the distance, as if viewing memories instead of reality. She lead next to him, drawing patterns on the skin of his arm. She had obviously fallen asleep, she didn't know if he had. But he was gone. So she got ready for school and hoped that he would be there. That she could at least see he was ok, if she didn't get to talk about it. They had Glee this afternoon anyway so she supposed he would at least show up for that. Hopefully. It might help him express himself.
The school day passed quickly, she took every opportunity to walk past his locker between classes but she never saw him. Not even at lunch. So she assumed he hadn't come in today. But then an over whelming sense of dread consumed her, what if he had done something reckless? What if he hadn't gone home last night like she assumed? He could be in a ditch somewhere and no one would know! These thoughts were running through her head as she walked in to the Choir Room, it was usually empty. She was always the first one there. But she stopped when she saw him. Sat at the piano playing some melody. She didn't know he could play the piano. And she knew a lot about him. More so than either of them would like to admit she's sure. She slowly walked over and sat next to him. He stilled his hands, but left them in the position, as if he would start back up in a second. But he didn't. He just sat there, until he turned slightly to look at her. She didn't catch his gaze, she was focused on his hands. She didn't want to scare him away, and she knew if she looked at him and he still had that look she'd just cry or hug him and freak him out. "Thankyou. For last night." He whispered it, and then continued playing. She watched as his fingers moved easily along the keys.
"When did you learn to play? I never knew you took lessons." It was a change of subject, it needed to be done. Were they just supposed to sit there in silence? Because that wouldn't look suspicious when the other club members arrived.
"I didn't. He er...Him. I don't usually, it's hard, but today it just. I don't know." He moved as if to stand so Rachel quickly held on to his arm.
"Don't. I erm, I think it's good. I mean you're very good. Why should it stop you from doing something you enjoy?" He sat back down next to her, but she didn't move her hands. They were still wrapped around his forearm. He didn't play any more. Just sat there next to her.
"I didn't think it would hurt, but it does. And it makes me mad at myself, and at him, for still feeling like he has a part of me. That he can control something in me." He shook his head, and turned to look her in the eye, "Do you know what I mean?"
As she went to speak the door flew open and Mr Schue, followed by the other Glee Clubbers, flew in to the room. He dumped his papers down on the piano and looked at the two of them. "Sorry we're late guys. I had to photocopy some music and I don't know where the others were." At this Puck stood from the piano bench and walked to take his usual seat at the back of the classroom. Rachel watched him go before she herself went to sit down. She didn't want to draw more attention to them, the looks she was getting already suggested it would be the point of gossip tonight, so she sat at the front. Away from everyone else. She didn't need to be distracted by whisperings and questions from those around her. She did however, have something prepared for the day. The song had been stuck in her head all day so she had gone to the library at lunch to find the music. It reminded her of him and she wanted to sing it. Maybe it might help him somehow. She didn't know if music could heal, but she believed it had some power over people's emotions.
She raised her hand, "Mr Schuester, before we begin, I prepared something for today and I'd really like to sing it. It will only take a few minutes. I promise." He nodded his head and went to sit down in an unoccupied seat. She gave the music to the band and stood in the centre of the room.
"Last night I got some news about something, and I just wanted to, well I don't really know. This song just seemed fitting. And hopefully it might have some sort of effect." She looked around the room, most people looked confused, but his eyes were on her. Still dead, but at least they were on her. She nodded her head and the music filled the room.
He grew up just a little too fast.
A loss and need that's on his past.
I can hear him humming from the other side of the room.
Guess he's got rhythm, cause he hums every time he's blue.
Oh, radio, bleed me a melody
That will make this boy cry.
Radio, bleed me a melody
That will make him wonder why he was so cold.
Broken glass and a pretty face.
Silent mourn, full of hate.
Quiet face, silent mourn.
Screaming for consequence,
Pleading for more.
Radio, bleed me a melody
That will make this boy cry.
Radio, bleed me a melody
That will make him wonder why he was so cold.
Write him a song that reminds him of a time
When he wasn't tumbling down, down, tumbling down.
Radio, bleed me a melody
That will make this boy cry.
Radio, bleed me a melody
That will make him wonder why he was so cold.
Radio, radio, radio, lead me a melody.
Radio, radio, radio, lead me a melody.
Radio, radio, radio, that boy's got rhythm cause he hums every time.
Radio, radio, radio.
The music died and everyone clapped slowly. No one really understood why she was singing such a depressing song but it was good none the less. Mr Schuester stood and patted her back, "Very good Rachel. Now we need to..." Puck had stood up in his seat and was making his way out of the classroom, "Erm, Puck? Where are you going?" He didn't respond, just walked out of the room and turned to walk towards the exit. Rachel quickly got up, and looked at Mr Schuester.
"I'll just go and see what's wrong with him. How rude, to just get up and leave like that. Clearly he has no manners what so ever. I'll bring him back. Just you watch." And with that she ran from the room, she didn't dare look back at the people she was leaving behind. She saw him down the hall, he was just leaving the building, so she ran to catch up with him. She flung herself through the doors to the school and shouted to him across the car park. "Noah!" That boy sure could walk fast.
"Noah! Noah Puckerman! Wait! Will you just WAIT!" She was running so fast that when he stopped moving she ran straight in to him, the force of the hit pushing her back and she fell on to the ground behind him. "ow." He was leaning over her now.
"Rachel, are you alright?" She smiled and nodded as he helped her up. She was brushing herself off and he just stood there staring at her.
"Why did you sing that song?" he asked.
"Why did you leave?" she countered.
"It just felt, kind of claustrophobic in there. I couldn't breathe." He turned to open the door of his truck and then stilled his movements, not looking at her. "Do you want to, like go somewhere with me?" She hesitated, looking back towards the school. "S'cool. I'll just see you tomorrow."
"No!" She interjected, "I'll go. I'll just ask Mercedes to drop my stuff at my house tonight."
"I can bring you back for it later? They don't lock up until 6 anyway." He shrugged. She didn't want to know how he knew that.
"Ok, good." They stood there for a moment, watching each other. Waiting for someone to make the first move. In the end he conceded.
"Lets go then." He opened the door for her and helped her in the truck. As the engine started and the radio turned on she could make out his quiet humming. She smiled slightly. It was a coping mechanism for him, she realised that now. He pulled out of the car park and took a left. She didn't know where they were going, but she did know that maybe all this was helping him. And she was along for the ride for as long as he needed her. After all he had asked her to be, not overtly, but by coming to her house that night he had asked her, in his own way, to help him through this and she would to the best of her ability. She didn't know how he was feeling, but she hoped that one day soon he might explain it all to her. One day.