title: have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?
summary: She presses the photograph into his hand, tightening his fingers around the thin frame. "This is our son," she whispers, tears burning behind her eyes.
pairing: puck/rachel, kurt/rachel friendship
rating: T
disclaimer: i own mark salling. well, actually i don't even though i wish i did. i think that honor belongs to the lucky lea even though they don't know it yet.
notes: much happier than my past puckleberry oneshots. i promise!
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'have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?
have you ever looked fear in the face and said
i just don't care?
it's only half past the point of no return
the tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn
the thunder before the lightning
the breath before the phrase
have you ever felt this way?'
-'glitter in the air', pink
.
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She gives birth to a son in the spring.
It is nearly half way through her first semester at NYADA when she finally realizes that something is definitely strange with her body. Something that doesn't make sense. Something that she can't shake.
She has gained some weight but she chalks it up to stress. After her breakup with Finn and helping Kurt deal with his breakup with Blaine. Her hands have been full, literally and figuratively and she just feels like a chicken with its head cut off. She's exhausted.
And the nausea starts.
She takes herself to an ER when she can't stop vomiting one morning.
"How far along are you?" the nurse asks as she checks her vitals.
"What? I'm not pregnant."
"Are you sure?"
She immediately submits to a pregnancy test. Why is she surprised when it comes back positive?
She tries to think back to the last time that she had sex.
When she and Finn had reunited, absolutely nothing had happened. They had barely even kissed to tell the truth.
And she was too far along even if there had been something.
"You're five months along," the doctor had informed her lightly.
And her stomach dropped.
How the hell could she not have known?
"It's easy for someone as small as you," the doctor says when she voices her concerns. "You are under a lot of stress, not getting much sleep. You could definitely have thought that the weight gain and the unsettled stomach was just your typical reaction."
Rachel lets out a tiny sigh. "Is the baby okay?" she asks softly.
"Well, your blood tests came back showing that you are a little anemic but nothing else put up red flags. Why don't we hook you up to an ultrasound and we'll find out?"
-;
She couldn't take it.
She had to know.
"It's a boy."
A boy.
When she heard those words come out of the doctor's mouth, the sounds of her son's heartbeat pulsing away, it became real.
She was going to be a mom.
-;
"Kurt, say something."
Her best friend continued to gaze at her, glassy eyed.
"Kurt!"
"Wow."
"That's all you can say? 'Wow?'"
"Well, what else do you want me to say, Rachel?" Kurt sighs, pulling his long frame off of the sofa and resting his hands on his hips. "What are you going to do?"
His voice is soft and so gentle. Much more gentle than she believes that she deserves.
She had thought about it for quite some time, what she was going to do. She was nineteen and about to become a mom. She didn't think she would be able to do it, to actually be a good mother to her baby boy.
But she was going to try.
"I'm keeping him."
She expects anger or a round of babbling outrage from her best friend. She almost wants it.
But he steps out, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest in a firm hug.
"I'll be here."
For the first time in what seems like months, she finally lets a few tears slip out. Her own arms wrap around his waist and she buries her face in his chest. The top of her head came up to his throat, she was just that damn short. She inwardly wondered what this baby would do to her, especially with who his father was.
"Have you told Finn yet?"
Rachel detangles herself from his embrace, feeling his piercing gaze on the top of her head.
"Uh...Finn's not the father."
-;
It had been one night.
Right after graduation, she received a text from her favorite Jew, asking her if she wanted some one on one time at Breadstix before he took off for the glorious rays of sunshine that was Los Angeles. Of course, how could she say no?
Laughter and bad dirty jokes and finally spiked soda caused this little mishap.
Well, it wasn't really a mishap.
If there was anyone that she could have chosen to father her baby, she knew it would have been Noah Puckerman.
She began wondering what their boy would look like. Would he inherit her soprano tones or Noah's low tenor? Would he get her dark brown eyes or Noah's heavenly hazel?
She had found herself getting lost in that hazel before.
-;
The first time that she got stuck in the tub, she knew how bad this was going to be.
And she was only seven months along!
"Uh...Kurt? Kurt!"
Damn it, this was humiliating.
"Kurt!"
For nearly an hour, she was in that tub, watching her toes get all pruney. Occasionally she shouts out for Kurt but Mister Oblivious continues on with his puttering and prissing until he finally notices how long she was gone.
"Hey Rachel? Rachel, are you okay?"
Kurt gently shifts the bathroom door open and receives a soapy loofah to the face.
"What the hell do you think?!" she barks, letting out a wail that is so high it causes Kurt to cover his ears. "Get me out of here!"
-;
It was when Kurt was mistaken for the father at the doctor's office when she realized that she had to give a certain someone a call.
"Call Puck, Rachel," he hisses in her ear as they are leaving from her last appointment before her due date. "You can't let him miss this."
Oh, she wanted too. She wanted too so bad.
She guessed that it was just fear of what he would do if she did tell him.
He had already given up Beth, knowing that he wasn't father material. Seventeen was just too damn young to be a dad and nineteen wasn't much better.
"He's in California," she whispers as Kurt helps her into the cab. "I don't have his number."
"I do," Kurt says, whipping out his cell phone. "And I know you are a liar. You've dialed his number a dozen times in the past month."
"Have you been going through my phone?!"
-;
It isn't until she holds Thomas Gideon Berry-Puckerman in her arms for the first time when she finally gets the nerve.
The phone rings once...twice...
"Hello?"
"Santana?"
-;
She had always hated that motorcycle of his.
The train ride seems like it last a hundred hours but in truth, it was only six.
And she hates every excruciatingly long minute of it.
"He's going to be okay, Rachel," Kurt whispers. "Santana said that he was stable."
"But in a coma," she murmurs, glancing down at Thomas's peacefully dozing face. "He's in a coma."
He had been home visiting his family for the Easter holidays even though they didn't celebrate Easter. He had decided to take his old bike out for a spin and just as luck would have it, it began to rain.
He had hit his head, which had been the most worrisome injury. He also broke his leg in three places after being pinned beneath it for almost two hours, bruises, abrasions, lacerations, the works.
She always hated that stupid motorcycle.
-;
Her heart jumps into her mouth when she sees him.
She had left Thomas outside with Santana, Kurt, and Miriam. Miriam had yelled at Rachel for not telling her that she had a grandson but had immediately forgiven her when she saw Thomas's hazel eyes.
"Oh, he's so beautiful," Miriam whispered, fighting back a sob.
"Hold him," she had murmured back, gently settling the fussing baby down in his grandmother's arms. More tears slipped down Miriam's cheeks before she finally tore her gaze away from Thomas's peaceful face.
"Noah's waiting for you," she whispers.
Rachel Berry doesn't need telling twice.
She slips through the doorway and freezes, hot tears immediately beginning to well behind her eyes.
And she wonders why she had been such a fool for so long.
-;
It's been nearly four days and he still hasn't woken up.
She notices that the chair and her behind have become quite acquainted.
She thanks God above that her dads still live there in Lima. They are the only ones that she trusts with Thomas and they are absolutely elated to have their grandson for a while.
"I always liked that Noah boy," her father whispers as he follows his husband from the waiting room. "He never tried to hold you back."
She watches her fathers go with wide eyes, feeling her own heart thumping away like the rushing river.
-;
"Come on, Noah. This isn't you."
Nothing. Not a damn thing.
"You have never been one to sleep the day away. You are always ready to take it by storm. Come on, Noah. It's time for you to get up."
Still silence. Not even a rise in the heart monitor.
"Do you remember when we were in our junior year? And Finn accidentally punched me and fractured my nose? I was going to get a nose job and you and Kurt talked me out of it by organizing the 'Barbra Intervention'."
In truth, that was one of her favorite memories. The way that Kurt and Noah had gone out of their way to make her realize that she was perfectly fine the way she was. There was nothing that needed to be changed.
She always wondered if Noah had had more to say before Kurt had appeared, taking her away into the goofy dance.
Suddenly, she heard it.
She thought she was imagining things.
The heart monitor, whatever the hell it was, it's beeping was starting to speed up.
She let out a tiny sob, stepping forward. Her tiny hand slid through his large one and she could have sworn that his fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers.
She pulls the photograph out of her pocket, replacing her hand with it in his fingers.
"This is our son, Noah. His name is Thomas," she breathes, her lips a breath's away from his ear. "He looks just like you, he's got your eyes, your hair. Sadly, he inherited my big beak but I think he'll get used to it."
There was a sudden choking sound and his eyes opened.
-;
He watched her with a tiny smirk as she strode into his room, her eyes wild and her dark locks standing on end, her familiar (his favorite) Rachel Berry look on her pretty face.
Her hands came up to rest on her slender hips and her features contorted into a scowl.
"If you ever scare me like that again, Noah Gideon Puckerman, I swear to God-"
He holds up a bruised hand, realising for a moment that he hadn't let go of the picture.
"I don't intend too, Rachel Barbra Berry," he replies with a croak. His eyes trace the photograph one more time, his son's round smiling face looking back at him. "Now get over here."
-;
She's unable to really comprehend the beauty.
She sits back in her chair, watching as her boys rolled around on the floor in a game of lions and tigers.
Her boys.
She didn't think she would ever be able to stop saying that.
"Daddy, catch the glitter!"
She lets out a laugh as her beloved man receives a fistful of glitter to the face. He spits out a mouthful and snakes an arm around the toddler's waist, scooping him up and pressing noisy kisses to his face, gently digging a hand into his ribs in his famous tickle.
Their son's laughter rang through the air, so glorious, so fulfilling.
She didn't think there was anything more beautiful than that.
-;
This dawned on me and I just had to write it.
Much happier, of course but with some angst.
Has Noah's middle name ever been said? I don't remember if anyone said it. Well, I thought it was appropriate for Rachel to give their son the same middle name as his.
I still think that either Puck or Jesse is her soulmate, not stinking Finn or Brody. Finn treats her like she is his property.
Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are much appreciated.