He held the tiny miracle in his arms, her blonde curls dusted over a pale forehead, blue eyes shining. Her eyes always captivated him. Her mother's had been pools of ice, sharp and cold. This blue instead spoke of Mediterranean seas and summer skies. He can't believe she is part him, that this perfect child could include any of the mess he has become.
Shelby smiles softly, watching Puck stare into his daughter's eyes. In moments like this, she thinks it maybe could work between them. Puck seems mature, trustworthy. Beth needs a father, and who better than the boy sitting on a sofa, just a metre away from her? He doesn't act like a boy anymore. He has forgone his jock friends and started listening in class. He uses Glee to let out his emotions instead of bottling them up, but manages to ignore all the petty drama. He seems to be comfortable with his life.
He seems.
Puck is jolted out of his trance by the chiming of Shelby's grandfather clock, a family heirloom passed down for years. Beth's eyes closed long ago, and the bells don't disturb her, unless snuggling closer into the crook of his arms counted as a disruption. Shelby glances over at the clock face.
"Noah."
He doesn't respond.
"Noa…Puck. You need to go."
He looks up from the sleeping child in his arms and flashes her his cocky smile.
"See. Even you can't keep the relationship between us professional."
A smirk, and he was out of the door before she could justify her use of his nickname. Shelby didn't like to admit it, but his confident attitude and smart quips were slowly winning her over.
This is how Puck appears to everyone. Funny, confident to the point of arrogance and always sorted. Sure of what (or who) he's doing. Never falters, never shaken.
Except when he drags the razor blade across his wrists, watches the blood bead and dry. He's dying inside from the pain and trying to drain it out through his skin. And the thing is, it's working. Everyone forgot about him. Quinn had the visible baby bump, Quinn lost all social status, Quinn rebelled by dying her hair pink and getting a nose piercing. Quinn was visibly hurting, while he was just a stud for sleeping with her. No one had realised he cared about their child. Hell, no one had realised he cared about Quinn.
He can't admit that he loved her without risking everything. He seems strong, but knows, deep inside, he's not. That he couldn't take the name-calling, the slushies and the shoves that come alongside being bottom of the social heap at McKinley. He can't risk showing his "soft" side and being dropped from his (precarious) position at the top of the pile. Maybe that's why he's with Shelby – pretty harder to do anything cooler than be the guy nailing the hottest teacher at school.
No.
He mentally slaps himself. He really does like Shelby, and cares about Beth. Puck knows he has to stop his long-ingrained habit of objectification. That's not a world he wants his baby girl to grow up in, and he's one of the idiots who has made it so. Another thing to add to his long list of failures. Another reason the razor is his only relief.
It barely stings as the shining metal sings to his skin. Layers are shredded like paper and thin lines of red appear. They soon blossom into shining droplets. Puck finds the reflections fascinating; it's almost like the blood is glowing. Asking to be released from the endless maze of veins. And so he complies, cutting and slicing until he can forget everything.