A/N; So... I was watching 'Props' and I thought; -Hey, I have an idea for Layla and Puck with this!- So... I guess this is it? Thanks for reading and please review?
Disclaimer; I obviously don't over Glee. Ha, if only I did.

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"Noah!" The all too familiar voice called from behind him. He turned around to see Layla running up to him. "Please Noah. Don't fight him. He's not worth it." She told him as she grabbed the collar of his plaid shirt in her hands, looking up at him with her slightly glossed hazel eyes. "I have to Lay. I need to live up to my badass status, and right now, this is the only way how." He said, looking down at the girl. "So this is it? You've made up your mind already?" She asked, sounding slightly hurt by this. "I'm sorry, but I have to." He pulled himself away from her and walked to where he was supposed to be fighting. By the dumpster.
Layla stood there with her arms crossed, looking at Puck. He stood by the dumpsters, waiting for the Puckheads to arrive. There they were, walking up towards him while the other people gathered around. Honestly, she didn't think she could watch this, but she had to. For him. Puck's voice brought her out of her daze.
"Last chance to walk away with whatever teeth you have left, stickhead." Puck said smugly. "Please. I just hope you brought a change of clothes because you're going dumpster diving." Rick said to him, pointing at the smelly dumpster behind him. "But hey, maybe while you're in there you'll find your garbage father." Layla glared at him, "YOU PRICK!" She shouted and Puck turned to look at her and pointed at her, "Stay out of this Layla," and turned back to his opponent. Rick laughed before continuing, "How's he doing by the way? Ya know, I tried his microbrew. It sucked." He said, practically spitting out the word 'sucked' as if it were venom.
Puck turned to look at him and in one swift motion, had his fist connecting with Rick's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching it. Everyone let out a noise, even Layla who was a bit proud of Puck. Rick turned to Puck and said, "game on" before ramming him back into one of the dumpsters. Puck pushed him off and punched him again, earning another round of "ohh's" from the crowd. Rick punched him in the stomach and Puck doubled over allowed the other boy to slam him into the cubical before Puck pushed them to the ground. The crowd was letting out noises of cheer and Layla just stood there, clearly pissed off.
Puck gave more punches as Rick fought for dominance. He finally gained it and pushed Puck off him, who went flying into the side of the dumpster. Puck fought to keep Rick off of him, but he had a hold on Puck's shirt as he lifted him up and slammed him back onto the concrete. He got a few hits in before Puck pushed the mullet haired off him. They both struggled to get off the ground. "Let's just make this easy," Rick began, "Hop in there yourself." He finished off, gesturing to the huge metal tin of rubbish. Puck threw another punch as the cheers grew. He missed and ended up getting a fist to the stomach sending him flying backwards, tripping over his feet and ending face first into the dumpster. He laid there as two of the Puckheads picked him up and put him into the dumpster.
Layla grew angry and tried her best not to let tears fall down her cheeks, yet she failed while the crowd began to cheer. Puck laid in there while Rick walked in front of it. "The rein of Noah Puckerman is over." He said, smirking. "Your winner," he pointed to himself, "And still a loser!" He pointed over Puck, who was still in the dumpster. He chuckled, walking back to his friends and began to chant 'loser' which all the Puckheads and a few stray people joined in on. "Look." Said a random jock, gesturing to the dumpster which Puck was crawling out of.
Rick turned and rolled up the sleeves of his jersey, "Oh you want some more there, Nancy?" He asked. Puck hopped out and reached for something in the back pocket of his jeans. "Oh no." Layla muttered to herself, wiping the tears off her cheeks. Puck pulled out a pocketknife and clicked a button, which popped it open. "Woah, woah dude. What the hell are ya doing man?" Rick said as they circled each other, a fair enough distance away. Gasps and 'woah's' were heard throughout the crowd. Puck pointed the knife at him, "I'm not a loser."
Out of nowhere, Coach Beiste came over and grabbed his wrist, "drop it." She said sternly. "Get over here!" She grabbed his shoulders, "drop it!" He dropped the knife and looked down at it, while Beiste picked it up. "The show's over! Everybody go home!" She yelled to them before she turned to Rick, "Get outta here! Except for you." She said the last part to Puck. Everyone left and Layla walked by Puck on her way out, who gently grabbed her arm and turned her to look at him. "Lay." He started, and was cut off by her ripping her arm away. He saw her tear stained face and guilt washed over him. "You lost me Puck. Goodbye." She said, walking away and crying more. He looked down and Beiste grabbed his arm, "Come on." She said, dragging him to the locker room.
Puck walked into the locker room, examining the cut on his right elbow as Coach Beiste walked in behind him. "A knife?!" She asked, holding it up. "It's rubber. It's just a prop from West Side Story." He replied simply, using one of the red towels to dab off the blood from his tan and wounded elbow. "What the hell are you thinking? You could get expelled for this." "It doesn't matter, I'm flunking out." He said, pausing his actions to speak before continuing. "You've got a record. You could get arrested for assult." She pointed out to him. "I don't care!" "Well you damn well should care." She raised her voice to him.
Puck threw the towel down in the bin before flipping it. "I'm nothing!" Beiste flinched at this and she looked at him. "Don't you get it?! I'm nothing. I'm the school joke," he said walking towards her, his arms moving as he talked. "A failure." There was a moment of silence.
"You don't know what it's like to be worthless. Where nothing you do matters. I feel that way every day of my life. Ever damn day." He said, his voice cracking while he spoke, "Do you know how many football games, er, concerts my mom's been to in the past 4 years? None. Not one. My dad's been awol since I was 10 years old. Which is fine because all he ever did was tell me I was garbage! And he must be really proud of himself, 'cause that's exactly how I turned out." He shook his head, looking down as Coach Beiste stayed quiet. "And Layla, she's all I had, now she hates me!" He choked on his sobs, walking around in a small cirlcle, "I'm sorry."
He looked at his elbow briefly. Beiste pulled him into a hug. Puck kept repeating, "I'm sorry," while she kept saying, "it's okay." They hugged for a second before she began to speak. "Eh, ya know, you and me, we're badasses. Nobody thinks anything hurts us. But it does. It does." She told him as she rubbed his back and he cried into her shoulder. They stayed like that, in each other's embrace, silent tears being shed and thick breathing lingering and bouncing off the wall of the practically empty locker room.