The door closed with a bang, and the whole room was left in silence.

Puck would bet everyone heard the words echoing in their heads, just like he did.

"I hope you didn't think he was going to waste himself with you, bunch of losers. He's going to get himself a pretty new life on a glorious Broadway stage, so…I just came to wish you luck, though I don't think it will make a difference. You're still gonna suck."

And the door just…closed. Damn Goolsby, that son of a bitch. He just had to come in and ruin everything, didn't he? It was probably in his nature, though, being the self-proclaimed king of the world and the royal dick he was.

But even then…there was a truth in what he was saying. There was no point telling them a lie if he knew would just walk in and deny it.

Which meant their teacher was leaving to be on Broadway.

Rationally, Puck couldn't blame him. He would leave a bunch of stupid high school kids behind for less. had talent, loads of it, and there he had a chance to show it to the world. Even earn some real money, not the allowance he got for teaching.

So yeah, there was no rational reason for him to stay at McKinley high. Or with his glee club.

But – and Puck would kill anyone who'd ever even suggest it – he really liked . He was the only adult that ever had this caring vibe around him even in Puck's presence. Probably the only adult who ever got to see the real him, the Noah hidden behind Puckzilla and badass talk. He'd always thought that New Directions meant as much to as it did to all of them, maybe even got around to admitting their teacher loved them.

And so it didn't make any sense. Not after the sweet talk always gave them, about sticking together no matter what, about him being proud of them.

Puck could see Rachel and Kurt glancing at each other across the room, their eyes sad, but understanding. He knew both of them would take the same chance if they could. They would leave whatever they had behind to be the shining Broadway stars they've always wanted to be.

Well, screw them.

Everyone could reason and persuade him all they wanted; he was never going to trust in anyone's love after this. People had always said they loved him. And they always left him.

His dad, with his damn drinking problem and rockstar dreams and crappy bedtime stories Puck used to love when he was a little kid.

His mother, always looking at him condescendingly after she got another letter from the school, and then retreating to a bottle, dissapearing in her own little liquid world of amber shadows and dark lights, ignoring his existence.

His sister, not even speaking to him anymore, aside from "clear the bathroom" and "jerk". He could still remember her tender, childlike embrace back when he used to put her to bed, the damned three words whispered into his ear and a sweet, wet kiss on his cheek.

Quinn, who he always thought he was going to be with, before and after the night they spent together. And he'd played his own part in it all, but now he could see he'd never really had her at all; not even for one damned second.

And now . He was the closest to a male rolemodel Puck was ever going to get. He'd always said he loved him – not him specifically, but all of his kids and that included Puck, all right, so he could take it as personally as he wanted. He was there when Puck began to show a little more of his hidden self, always standing by his side and digging him out of shit.

And while Puck certainly didn't want to pick up his teacher's awful sense of style or his inclination to tear up at every chick-flick moment, there were some traits that were worth adapting.

Before today.

Because fuck if he was going to let a dishonest, disloyal son of a bitch hurt him or control his life. There's been enough of that and Puck wasn't so sure he could take it.

He raised his gaze from the little notebook he'd been scribbling into. The page was filled with random doodles, nudging at the edge of his vision as he did a quick sweep of everyone in the room. As expected, some of the girls were near tears, at least from Puck's angle, while guys just looked…well, down. Beaten. Like there was no hope for them to ever even have a take at Nationals, not when their teacher, their solid rock, had let them down.

In that moment, teacher or not, Puck was firmly set on beating the crap out of if he didn't offer a sufficing explanation.

So Puck cared about his friends from glee (who were the only friends he had left, really). Maybe. So what. Not that he would ever admit it; especially if Schue was going to leave.

When the door finally opened again, Puck almost sighed with relief, silently thanking all the Gods everybody's made it to that point alive. The silence hanging in the room before has been putting 'unbearable' on a whole new level and he was quite positive somebody would've burst after just a few more minutes.

Now, they just stared emptily at their teacher carrying a pile of pizza boxes, his trademark enthusiastic smile firmly in place.

Why wouldn't it, if he was just starting a career he'd always dreamed of?

Puck only snapped out of his haze when he hear Quinn's voice.

"We heard."

frowned, confused.

"Heard what?"

"About you leaving to be on Broadway?" Mercedes said, half-questioningly, her eyes raised to their teacher in a hopeful plea.

Puck, somehow, managed to tone down the conversation and only focus on . He appeared confused, definitely hesitant, like he was talkig to a pack of wild animals that could attack him any minute. Puck desperately didn't want to believe the news. There was just no way. How were they supposed to make glee work without ?

"Who told you, guys?" he was asking, the frown on his face deepening.

"Goolsby," Tina answered, looking so crestfallen and sad Puck just wanted to punch something. So what if it had a ridiculously curly hairstyle.

There was a thoughtful expression on 's face, like always when he tried hard to come up with a good mash-up, only deeper. His eyes were darting around the floor.

"You okay, ?" Mike asked.

's eyes did some more darting. Then he looked up, and somehting about the whole setting and the dramatic music Puck could almost hear playing in the background was downright screaming the moment of truth.

"I'm not going," the theacher said. "I'm staying with you guys."

His expression slowly changed from thoughtful to determined and then to excited. Puck could see the smiles on all the faces in the room, could feel his own mouth pulling into one before the words even reached his brain.

"I had my moment on that stage and it was glorious, but you and I have some unfinished business to take care of. Now get out your notebooks, time to get to work!" seemed to slip into their old work mode quite easily. He opened his arms like every time he presented them with a brilliant new idea and Puck felt something swelling in his chest, something that made him want to laugh.

wasn't leaving. He was staying, despite, or maybe because, he loved them. Cared about them – every one of them, Puck included. He was very probably going to be the only adult to ever gain Puck's unconditional trust, because come on, this was Broadway - stomped on and laying rumpled somewhere on the road behind their backs.

There was a second of calm, mixed with happy shock and nobody seemed to be able to move. Except for the smiles – they just got bigger and bigger.

"Come on, this is Nationals, people!" clapped, and just like that, the spell was broken. Puck gave in to the ridiculous, happy feeling of warmth, spreading to his fingertips, and stood up.

"So, we're gonna…" began, but he didn't get to finish, because in the next moment, Puck was all over him, hugging him like a five year old girl and smiling goofily into his shirt.

was the only adult that ever got to see the real him.