Puck's POV
The cafeteria was noisy. Unnecessarily so, and despite all being sat at the same, long table, the glee club struggled to hear one another over the loud scraping of chairs and clattering of knives and forks.
In the end, most of them gave up trying to yell bits of disjointed conversation at each other across the table and instead settled for babbling mindlessly to the people on either side of them about nothing in particular.
Everybody was speaking, everybody was eating. Everybody except Quinn.
From the other end of the table Puck watched with sad eyes as she pushed her food around her plate and tried her best to look interested in whatever Santana was saying.
To everyone else, she looked normal, perhaps a little pale but nothing out of the ordinary. She'd smile and laugh, just like everyone else. Totally fine, right? Wrong. They didn't notice the way her smile never quite reached her eyes.
He did. He noticed.
It scared him.
She was hurting, he knew that. He knew that the guilt of giving their baby girl away was breaking her slowly from the inside, chipping away at her very being and wearing her down.
He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. All the pain and the hurt she felt would come crashing into him whenever his eyes met hers, not matter how brief the encounter.
He'd thought about helping her, he had, but he knew she wouldn't let him. She wouldn't let anybody. He thought she'd be okay. Just give her a few months he'd thought to himself she'll snap out of it soon enough. And up until now he'd believed that. He'd been almost certain that she was strong enough to fix herself, start again.
Turns out he was wrong.
She'd lost weight. He noticed the way her once figure hugging baby doll dresses hung loosely on her tiny frame and every time he got partnered with her in glee club, he couldn't help but worry when he realized could lift her off the ground with just one arm. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat anything.
It was then, in the canteen that he decided he needed to do something about it. As he watched her shove her full plate towards a grateful Finn he knew that he had to help her. She couldn't do it by herself anymore, and he wasn't about to let her.
He left the conversation he was currently having with Finn and Sam and moved unnoticed to the other end of the table, taking the seat next to her. He saw her shoulders stiffen as he sat down but she didn't turn to look at him. Instead she played absent mindedly with a fraying hem on the sleeve of her red cardigan.
"Not hungry Q?" He asked quietly, taking the apple from Brittany's tray and biting greedily into it. Brittany didn't even notice.
Quinn shrugged slightly. "Guess not."
"How come? Couple of months back you were eating me out of house and home." He bumped her lightly with his shoulder, trying to cheer her up a little. But all she did was shift a little further away from him in her chair.
"I was pregnant Puck, pregnant women eat a lot." She snarled at him, still not lifting her eyes from her lap.
"Yeah, I noticed." He joked, humor in his voice.
She ignored him completely and he took another bite of his apple. The silence was almost unbearable. Since when had it been like this between them? Being with Quinn used to be as easy as breathing but now he struggled to hold even a simple conversation with her. Her voice interrupted his thought process.
"What's it to you anyway?" her words were hard, defensive.
Now it was his turn to shrug.
"Nothing. I just thought you were looking a bit down, that's all." He said nonchalantly, trying his best to keep the worry out of his voice.
Quinn finally turned to look at him, locking her eyes with his. There they were again, two deep green oceans swimming with so much pain and hurt that it made his breath catch in his throat. She snapped her eyes away.
"Yeah well, I'm fine. Just tired." She grabbed the apple out of his hands and bit delicately into it, going back to her conversation with Santana and blanking him once again.
He shook his head. He could see right through her and she knew it. Eat the apple she'd thought; get him off your back. Well it wasn't going to work. She could lie to him all she wanted but she seemed to have forgotten that he knew her better than anyone. He had had a baby with her, after all.
He watched Quinn finish the apple, eyeing her skeptically as he noticed the way her nose wrinkled in the tiniest way every time she took a bite and before he knew it the bell was ringing and Quinn was out of her seat like a shot, tossing her apple core in the trash and disappearing through the cafeteria doors.
He followed.
He battled through the crowds of noisy kids who were currently occupying the hallways, making their way slowly to their afternoon classes. He lost sight of her a couple of times, his view obscured by some freakishly tall freshman and ended up almost jogging after her.
He turned the last corner in the corridor, having lost sight of her completely. He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his mohawk, annoyed at himself for not keeping up. But then he caught a quick glimpse of her red cardigan, rushing through the door of the girl's bathroom and his heart skipped a beat.
Shit, he thought. He wasn't shocked, deep down he'd known exactly where she was heading, he'd dated plenty of Cheerios to be able to recognize the signs of an eating disorder when he saw one, but he was just shocked that it was happening to Quinn. Of all people, after all the shit she'd already had to deal with, why did it have to happen to her?
He waited for the hall to clear a little before slipping discretely through the door Quinn had rushed through a few minutes before.
He winced at the strained coughing that was coming from the furthest cubicle away and his heart almost broke in two for the girl that had once been the strongest person he had ever met.
"Quinn?" he called. "That you?" He didn't know why he asked that, he knew it was. He'd spent nine months holding her hair back while she threw up so he knew exactly what it sounded like. He'd hated it then and he hated it now.
The coughing ceased at the sound of his voice and the space was filled with a minute of eerie silence before he heard the toilet flush and the cubicle door creak open.
Quinn stepped out looking as cool and calm as ever but he knew that, deep down, she was anything but.
She headed straight over to the sinks and began to wash her hands, not once glancing in his direction.
"Everything okay?" he asked casually, leaning back against the wall, arms folded across his chest.
"Fine." She snapped abruptly, drying her hands on a paper towel.
He shook his head and stepped towards her.
"Quinn, I just heard you throwing up!" His voice was louder than he had intended but she just frustrated him to the point where he couldn't help it.
"Huh, well maybe some jerk knocked me up again." She bit back, sarcasm lacing her harsh words. He winced at the memory of her pregnancy.
"Don't joke about that Quinn, it's not funny." He kept his voice hushed this time, too hurt to be angry.
She turned to face him, one hand on her tiny waist and fire burning in her ocean coloured eyes.
"Who said I was joking?" She said almost too sweetly, like some sick psychopath in one of those scary movies that she hated so much.
She scoffed a little when he didn't respond and threw the crumpled paper towel into the trash. She hated him, he could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She resented him for making her choose between her life and her baby. But he could also see that she hated herself more. That's why she was doing this. She was making herself pay.
She began heading in the direction of the door.
"I know you're lying." He called, stopping her in her tracks. His breath caught in his throat, completely clueless to what her reaction would be. He hadn't even expected her to stop.
She whipped round so she was facing him again, her body rigid with anger and hatred and something else. Fear.
She stepped towards him, and him towards her.
"You don't know anything." She snarled at him through gritted teeth. "You don't know anything about what's going on or what I'm going through! You don't know what I've had to deal with!" She was right up close to him now, their bodies' mere inches away. "You're just some Lima Loser who got me drunk and then knocked me up. You don't know anything."
He could see her hands shaking. Her cheeks were flushed with anger, like they used to be when she yelled at him for leaving the toilet seat up or leaving wet towels on the bed. But he also noticed the way she was chewing slightly on her lip now she was finished laying into him, like she had done whenever she got scared about giving birth or giving Beth away.
She's just scared, he thought to himself. She's only doing this because she's scared.
With this in mind, he slipped his hand gently into one of hers, stopping it from shaking. It was cold. She didn't pull away like he'd expected her too, not at first anyway. Instead she looked up at him with those eyes and for about the millionth time that year he wondered why they'd ever broken up.
He moved a little closer to her.
"But I know you." He whispered softly. She moved her eyes from his face to the floor. "I know you're scared. I know you're hurting. And I know you need help."
It was that last sentence that caused her to snatch her hand from his and relight the burning fires in her eyes.
"I don't need help." She spat. "Not from a doctor, not from my friends, and certainly not form you."
With that she spun on her heels and stormed right out of the bathroom. He was too stunned to follow so instead he was left standing alone and frustrated in the middle of the girls bathroom, having just being witness to the mother of his child force herself to throw up her lunch, all when he should have been running laps at football practice. Shit.
