AN: This is a big Quick story I've been working on that starts when they meet and will either go through the conception of baby Quick or the birth- I haven't decided yet. Any comments, ideas or criticism are very welcomed! I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer- Nope, don't own Glee.
Broken
Noah Puckerman had fallen into a pattern at an early age. He didn't trust anyone. There were only three exceptions to this. His mother- Cindy and sister- Tess. And of course his boy Finn. Other than that, it was him against the world. Never get close, never let them in, and never give them a chance to hurt you. That was his motto and he followed it to a tee. He put on a proud macho exterior to hide the fact that he was always hurting, doubting and questioning. Especially with girls. He would jump from one girl to another using his killer good looks and player mentality to win whichever girl he happened to want at that moment. And he wanted them all. He strictly followed his motto, never getting close to any girl in particular. It became a game to him. He was good, really good, at pulling girls. Older, younger, it didn't seem to matter. He could win anyone. When it came to women, Noah Puckerman was a king. Smooth, powerful and worthy. Then she came and destroyed all of this.
From the very beginning, she had seemed to have some sort of power over him. She gave him this feeling in his stomach he'd never felt before, made his heart race, his hands sweat and his brain turn to complete and utter mush. As he would put it, Quinn Fabray made him feel completely un-Pucklike. And he didn't like it. Not one bit.
The first time Puck ever saw Quinn he fell. Actually, total wipeout would better describe what happened. So not smooth and so not Puck. It was the beginning of August before his ninth grade year. His mom had saved up enough money so she could rent a little rundown cottage by Lake Michigan for a few weeks. It was nestled in a far off jungle of bushes close to a group of huge summer homes that Puck, his mom and sister could only dream of. On the car ride up, Cindy told her kids that she wanted some quality time with them. "Especially since you haven't even started high school and already seem to be too busy for your old mom," she teased Puck. He rolled his eyes.
Maybe wanting to spend time with Tess and him had been part of the reason she planned this vacation. But Puck knew her first reason. At the beginning of the summer a letter arrived informing them of a father-son camping trip for the football team. Cindy immediately jumped into action and conveniently made plans to be away that week just like she always did. For as long as Puck could remember, they always seemed to have something else they just "had to do" whenever anything involving fathers was going on. Every year in Elementary School when the kids took fieldtrips to make a gift for Father's Day, they would "need" to visit their grandparents or Cindy would say it was such a nice day out the just "had" to go to the zoo. Whenever there was a father-son baseball game or a daddy-daughter dance, there would suddenly be a doctor's appointment that "couldn't be missed." Puck loved his mother for doing this but he couldn't help but still be angry. His boy Finn and him had dealt with being fatherless together since they met in kindergarten. But it was different for Puck. Finn's dad died as a hero. Puck's father walked away. And things like this camping trip everyone else was on reminded him that he had a father to do all this with, his father just didn't want to be around for it.
So here was, on a trip with his mom and baby sister feeling like he always did when he thought about his dad leaving. Angry, not good enough, like he must of done something to cause him to leave and completely powerless. The only thing he knew to do was pour himself into the one thing he knew he was great at. The one thing he could do where he always felt wanted, powerful and important to someone. Puck spent his first week at the beach pulling girl after girl. He was Puck, and he was on top of the world. No girl could ever make him feel as little, insignificant and off-balance as his absentee father could. Then he met Quinn.
Puck had snuck onto the private beach belonging to the people in the huge summer homes when he first noticed the blonde. She was laying out on a towel in a swimsuit that could only be described as skimpy. She first grabbed his attention because she was reading a Sports Illustrated. A girl who liked sports; Puck found this to be sexy as hell. After noting this, his eyes moved from her flat stomach, to her perfectly toned legs, then her enticing chest and finally her full and luscious lips. He couldn't help but find the way she was biting the lower one extremely appealing. Each new thing his eyes took in about the mystery blonde made him feel things he had never felt when around a girl. As he started over to talk to her, he couldn't think or even breathe. Pull it together Puck. He ordered himself. She's just a girl. You've done this a million times. Just as she looked up a noticed him, Puck tripped over a sandcastle being built and face planted it. He stood up hoping that by some miracle she hadn't noticed, but her laughter assured him she in fact had. "Goddammit," he muttered to himself.
The second time Puck saw Quinn didn't go much better. It was later that day and he was throwing a football up in the air for himself to catch- just one of many things he was forced to teach himself to do in order to compensate for his missing father.
"Hey there Mr. Graceful," Quinn mocked as she stepped out from behind the bushes and into view. She wasn't sure why exactly she was there, other than the fact that she couldn't stand to be at home any longer. One more second spent in her "perfect" house with her "perfect" parents was going to cause her to pull all of her hair out. She hated the way they were always telling her what to wear, what to do and what to think. It was as if they were trying to force her into their idea of the "perfect" daughter. She hated the way all they cared about was making sure they kept up their "perfect" persona. When she was eight and wanted to play football, they said she couldn't because it wouldn't look good to others if their daughter played football. Instead they signed her up for dance classes and Bible school- both acceptable pastimes for their image. That's what it was always about with them. And anything that was the least bit uncomfortable, they immediately swept under the rug as if it never existed. If it didn't fit with their image, it wasn't happening as far as they were concerned. Tonight Quinn was extra tired of dealing with them. After dinner her father had announced that he volunteered her to be president of the celibacy club at McKinley High School where she would start ninth grade soon. "It will look good Quinny. And it's important to your mother and I you do this," he said like he always did when she was needed to help keep up the image. He didn't even look over to see that she was screaming no with every ounce of her being. Just walked away sure that Quinn was going to do exactly what he wanted. And she would, she always did. She hated herself for that.
Quinn knew it wouldn't do any good to talk to her parents, so she went for a run. It was on her run that she saw the boy from earlier. She wasn't able to get a good look at him before as he had been a mass of falling arms and legs. Now though, safely hidden behind the bushes, she was able to take everything about him in. And she liked what she saw. Each time he threw the football up, she could see his muscles gleaming in the sunlight. He had the prettiest eyes and a mohawk! Most people looked ridiculous with a mohawk but he looked incredibly dangerous and sexy. He was exactly the kind of boy her parents would hate. So with that as a push, she stepped out of the bushes and called to him.
He turned around, and seeing her, felt the same off-balance feeling he experienced when he first saw her. The football came down and hit him square on top of the head causing Quinn to break out a huge smile. He thought it had to be the smile of an angel. He had never seen anything more beautiful. "I'm Quinn," she stated. Quinn. He repeated it to himself, deciding it was the most perfect name he had ever heard. He wanted to tell her his name but all he could do was stare. "You got a name?" she inquired, still with a huge grin across her face.
"I'm Nuck," he blurted out, instantly turning red.
"Nuck," she repeated. "Interesting but I like it."
"Well, actually my first name is Noah- my nickname is Puck...from my last name Puckerman…," he trailed off, suddenly very interested in his shoes. What was it about this girl? He couldn't get a sentence to come out normally around her, or even think of a sentence to say. They stood in silence for a few minutes. Puck tried to think of something smooth or clever to say but for the first time in his life he was drawing a blank.
"So Nuck," Quinn teased, breaking the awkward silence. "Wannna go for a walk?"
"Sure," he agreed. They walked instep together towards the beach. As they walked Puck realized that the sun was beginning to set. If he had been with any other girl he would be thinking about what a great situation this was. No girl would be able to resist him on a beach, especially during a sunset. But this wasn't any other girl; this was Quinn, the girl with the beautiful name and smile of an angel. This was the girl who read Sports Illustrated and made him feel things he had never felt before. This was the girl who, even though he had yet to have a full conversation with, he felt a connection to. And for the first time ever when alone with a hot girl, he wasn't thinking about what a great situation he was in to hook up with her. In fact, he was busy focusing on simple things like walking without tripping and not saying anything too embarrassing as her presence seemed to make both of these hard tasks. Then suddenly his mouth was opening and words were coming out. But he couldn't remember saying them. "Do you want to play a game?" he was asking. God could he sound anymore like a five year old? A game? Really? To his surprise, she agreed. "K. Well it's a game I play with my Mom," he began, once again surprised to hear his voice. "It doesn't have a name; we just call it "The Game." Basically we just take turns asking each other questions. Anything you want to know. And you have to truthfully answer the questions. Or you can refuse, but then you lose." He and his Mom had started playing "The Game" after a visit to a therapist who suggested it. She said it would help Puck open up and start to deal with his anger. He had no clue why he had just suggested they play it. If he played "The Game" with Quinn he would most definitely be breaking every part of his motto. Yet as she looked him straight in the eyes and agreed to play, his heart skipped a beat and he was actually excited.
Quinn had started out with an easy question after she had gotten herself into "The Game" with Puck, asking him his age. She couldn't believe she had agreed to this. She hated being truthful with herself let alone with others. But here she was about to play a game based solely on telling the truth about herself to a total stranger. She thought about leaving. Just turning the other way and running without so much as an explanation. Where would she go though? Home? If she went home now she would be alone for the rest of the night. Her parents paid so little attention to her after dinner, they wouldn't even realize if she rain through the house on fire. While both options scared her, in the end she decided it was better to be with someone than alone. So she stayed.
Puck was surprised and quite grateful to hear her start with such an easy question. His age- he could answer that. "Fourteen," he told her.
"I'm four-" she started, but he cut her off before she could finish.
"Hold it Quinny-Poo," he said, mocking her name as she had done to him earlier. "You can't answer your own question. You have to wait for me to ask you one."
"Fine Nucklehead," she said, rolling her eyes and continuing the name mockery. "Ask your question."
"Why thank you Quinnzilla." He was starting to sound like his usual self again. "What's your middle name," he inquired, deciding to start with an easy question as well.
"Abigail," she answered with that smile of an angel she had spread wide across her face. Puck had been smiled at by many girls but he had never been so happy to see a smile as he was when Quinn smiled.
They stayed out on the beach playing "The Game" long past the sun going down. They kept it light, both asking easy questions. He now knew her favorite color was yellow, her favorite food was a cheeseburger and her dream pet was a black lab puppy that she would name Sky. And she learned that he played football and basketball, his favorite show of all time was Boy Meets World and he had cut his hair in a mohawk because of a dare but ended up liking and keeping it. Their conversation had flown easily and Puck seemed to have regained his composure. Though he still found it very difficult to breathe around her. They had bantered, traded insults and made fun of one another. And Quinn was surprised when she realized it was the best conversation she had all summer.
Eventually, they realized how late it had gotten. And even though neither of the wanted to, they said good night and headed their opposite ways. As Quinn walked back to her huge and most likely empty, summer home, she couldn't help but hope with everything in her that talking with Puck wasn't a one time fluke. She couldn't remember the last time she truly enjoyed herself like she just had. Even now, she couldn't wipe the smile of her face. On top of all that, she had been totally honest with Puck. Granted it had just been about favorite foods and celebrity crushes, but she spent most of her life trying to keep up a perfect image like her parents wanted her to. She never knew it would be so liberating to just be honest about those little things. As she reached her door she looked back to the beach and her heart stopped beating as she could swear there was a tall boy with a mohawk starring back at her.
Puck had watched Quinn walk all the way to her door. Once he was sure she was safe and inside, he made his way back to the cottage. After watching some stupid girl movie with Tess and his Mom, he went to bed. All through the movie and even now as he tried to sleep, he couldn't stop thinking about Quinn Fabray. He told himself that what happened earlier couldn't and wouldn't happen again. This wasn't him. He had just spent hours, alone on a beach with the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen without even touching as much as her hand. Instead, he had talked with her and told her about himself. This was not part of his motto- it was the exact opposite of his motto. This wasn't what he did with girls and it had to stop. He would forget about her like he did with other girls. One night, and gone from his memory. Yet even as he was saying all this to himself, he started thinking of questions he would ask her the next day.