I would like to thank my reviewers, particularly icandigit and Spiorad Fear. Your support is appreciated, and I hope this doesn't dissapoint!

Title: Someone Like You
Rating: M
Genre: Slash, Romance/Angst/Tragedy
Characters: Puck/Finn and Finn/Quinn with Puck/Blaine friendship and Kurt/Blaine overlaying story
Summary: "Don't forget me, I beg. 'I'll remember,' you said…Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."
Warnings: Sex, Slash, Sadness…anything Dramatic Romance Movie Related (lol)
Disclaimer: I don't own jack, simple as that.

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Chapter 1~How it is Now

October 2, 2021

If there's one season Noah hates, it's fall.

It's neither warm nor cold, all the trees are ugly and dying, and every fucking store stocks up on lame ass Halloween crap. What's worse is walking into his office building only to be greeted by the prison orange festive lights and pathetic bat cut outs littering the lobby.

He sighs.

Why couldn't everyone see how useless shit like that was? They were adults for god's sake, can't they grow up?

"Good morning, Mr. Puckerman." Karen, the building's front desk lady greets him with a smile.

He nods at her and forces a smile back. "Have you seen Mr. Anderson pass by yet?" He asks her quickly.

She shakes her head "Sorry, Sir, I haven't."

The Jewish man puffs air out of his nose and shakes his head in irritation. "Don't worry about it, Karen. He's just being purposely late to irk me."

She laughs as he leaves and heads for the elevators.

Pressing the button a few times, growing increasingly agitated with what he knew was the elevator's deliberate plot to make him wait as long as it could, Noah thinks for a brief moment on why he has something so horribly against autumn and all that is associated with it.

He didn't used to.

There was a time that October was one of his favorite months; because it meant he got more candy than what was healthy for a child in a given year, let alone in a single sitting. He chuckles at that amusing memory. His mother coming down on him, finding out he ate his entire pillow case full of candy all at once, making him sick for two days.

Good times.

The elevator doors ding and he smiles to himself, finding that with that little bit of self-reflection he felt oddly better.

Once the doors open again on his floor, he begins running through a mental list of the things he needs to do before the day is over. Being a respected Public Relations Specialist at a highly influential firm for incredibly rich and famous people may have its perks, but mostly it came with a very large and annoying headache. Which is why working with his best friend Blaine Anderson is such a big plus: together they are creative geniuses and keep each other sane. However, Blaine also has a tendency to be extremely late. Not that Noah ever says much about it. Only when he's in need of him immediately does he ever truly bring it up as a problem.

Walking through the cubicle parts of the office, Noah nods in acknowledgement of all of his hard working employees. It was good to be the boss; everyone is paid to respect you. Before he can reach his door though, one of his underlings stands up to stop him. She is of average looks – not model gorgeous, but not horribly ugly – with studious, black glasses and knee length pencil skirt. For the first time he noticed she was replacing Emily for his receptionist, which was strange, unless she was sick.

Grappling for her name, Noah just nods for her to speak her peace, as he was not rude to his people.

"Umm, Mr. Puckerman, you have a message from someone in Lima, Ohio." Well that got his attention. He narrows his eyes at the girl and she's quick finish filling him in. She reaches down and retrieves the sticky note where she wrote the number down. "He said it was urgent, sir."

"Did you happen to find out who the he is?" He asks while studying the number, coming up blank as for who it could be.

"No, sir, just that you knew each other; he seemed very certain you would call."

Noah, no longer paying her any mind, finishes his trek to his office, staring intently at the note. Who could be calling him after all of this time? It couldn't be…no, they didn't separate on terms in which you make calls to each other.

Sitting in his chair, Noah drops his briefcase and goes straight for his phone. The wait for someone to pick up feels like torturously long. He honestly feels as though if you called someone in an urgent need, you would be desperately waiting for the phone to ring. But apparently not…

"Noah Puckerman," A high male voice says sounding slightly tired in more ways than one. "It's been a long time." Coming up blank on how to respond, and fighting the initial shock reaction of dropping the thing right out of his hand, he sits silently for a few seconds and the voice finally lets off a hollow chuckle. "I see you're no less stupid then you were in high school."

"Kurt?" he breathes out, letting the panic start to settle in. "Kurt, I-I…" he turns his chair around away from his windows, trying not to pinch himself. "Why are you calling me?"

"I needed to talk to you." He replies on a sigh, obviously debating with himself how he is going to break whatever news he has.

"If this is about Blaine…" Noah starts, letting a warning tone filter into his voice; but Kurt cuts him off.

"No, no, it's not. Noah, umm," there's a rustling noise, and now Puck is starting to get angry. If it was so important can't he just spit it out, and not waste his time? "It's Finn."

Thud.

Now he did drop the phone. What could he possibly need to know about Finn?

He hears Kurt calling for him and he's quick to pick up the phone again. The anger that had started was now boiling. How dare he? How dare he call and remind him of everything that has taken ten years to forget. Did he really hate him that much? "What the fuck do I need to know about that asshole?" He growls into the receiver, seeing red.

There is a slight gasp, and then Kurt comes back, just as angry, "That asshole has been in a car accident."

Thud.

A dropping of a different sort happens. His stomach and grudgingly his heart.

Reeling from the news, Noah stutters, "Is he-Is he...Is he okay? What happened?"

"Drunk driver, just after midnight coming back from a 7/11, didn't see it coming…you get the idea."

Noah swallows and shuts his eyes.

"He's in the ICU. Doctors say a few more days and they'll release him to Recovery. They've just been worried about the bleeding..."

"Kurt," Noah stops him, finding his voice, "what aren't you telling me?"

He feels more than hears the paler man's resignation, "Quinn's in a coma. They don't know if she's ever going to wake up, Noah."

"Fuck," he swears and falls backwards. If that was the case than that meant that Finn was alone…and vulnerable…and Kurt was probably calling because he wants him to come in to save the day.

"Finn's been going insane, thinking it's somehow his fault. He can't leave the confines of his room to see for himself that she's alive and…well maybe not well."

Noah scoffs and rubs his temples from his rising headache. "Guess not, what with the possibly becoming a vegetable thing."

"Don't say that," the younger man hisses. "I've been doing what I can here, Noah, but I can't get through to him."

"Finn's stubborn."

"Yes, I've seen that, but his own recovery rests on his staying positive and forcing himself to go on. He doesn't want to, he wants to die. Quinn is his whole world."

Noah swallows thicker this time, and in a slightly rougher voice, he asks, "So what is this, Kurt? Come on and save the man that not only broke my heart into a million pieces but humiliated me in front of everyone by announcing his engagement to his high school sweetheart on graduation day and never bothered to even explain…or for that matter, tell me that we were over?"

"Noah, I know you're probably still mad; but…"

"Fuck YES I'm still mad Kurt," Puck growled, feeling ten years of tears start bubbling up. "But you're right, Quinn is his whole world. She's his only reason for existing! Forget about me and my feelings on the subject cause when has anyone cared about Noah Puckerman? Man-whore of Lima who knocked up his best friend's girl because she told him she cares about him too. I really should have known better – no – I did. I did know better. I did know it would always be Quinn…or Rachel. I just chose to believe him when he said we were forever like the stupid fucker for love I am." Noah sucks in a deep breath, stopping himself from breaking down and trying desperately to reign in his emotions.

This wasn't healthy.

He's over Finn. He doesn't need him, he doesn't need anyone.

He needs his job.

He needs order.

He needs control, because control meant no surprises or skeletons arising out of a long since locked closet.

"Puck…" there's a sigh, "I know you're hurting; and I know there's nothing I can say to make it any bet-…"

"You're right there's not."

The line so quiet it's like one of them hung up. Distantly Noah heard Blaine announcing his presence by greeting the employees on the way in, he grits his teeth. "I have work, Kurt. I'm sorry about Finn. Really I am, but even if I did go down there he wouldn't listen to me. He doesn't…" he chokes on the sentence, "he doesn't love me. He loves Quinn. So if Quinn is what it's going to take to wake him up, then my suggestion is to start that acupuncture shit you did with your dad. I gotta go."

"But Puck…"

Click.

His office door is thrown open to a chipper Blaine carrying a bag of pastries from Starbucks. "Hey, buddy, I brought you some…oh. What'd I miss?"

Noah looks up at him, eyes brimming red and swallows the lump in his throat. In a considerably small voice, he says, "its Finn. He's ah," he looks down at his nails, "he's in the ICU from a car accident."

The bag in Blaine's hand starts to slip, he catches it. Sitting in the chair across from his desk, Blaine asks, "Is he gonna be okay."

"Doctors say he's going to Recovery in the next couple of days. Quinn, she's, well she's not doing so great." He sniffles. "She's in a coma, they don't if she's ever going to wake up."

"Fuck." Blaine curses. They sit in silence for a few moments. "Well when are we going down there?"

Puck looks at him strange. "We aren't going anywhere. Kurt can handle his brother. I wished them the best, but I'm sorry if I can't find the will to help the person who destroyed any confidence I had. It may sound petty or horrible of me, but I don't give a fuck. I stopped caring a long time ago, Blaine."

"That's a lie, Noah." There's a battle in their eyes. "You do nothing but think of him. Fuck, you haven't even been in a relationship in ten fucking years!"

"So? Look at you. Different guy every week." Noah snaps and pulls his chair forward, reaching for a set of papers waiting for his signature. "Seems like you can't get over Kurt."

"You're right, but at least I admit it."

Noah stops and bites his lip.

"You want to go don't you? You want to go there and play nurse to his wounds and listen to him agonize over Quinn and try and make him see how much you two still love each other…"

"Shut the fuck up!" Noah yells and stands up.

Blaine's eyes light up and he slowly stands too, coming forward to stand with him toe-to-toe. "You love him and you always will. Even if he may or may not ever love you. But you'll never be able to close the door until you go and talk to him. Settle your issues."

Noah's eyes water and he looks away, unable to answer.

"Noah, Finn needs you. He's not going to say it out loud, but he's probably thinking about you even right now. Ad like it or not, you need him too."

And with that his best friend walks back out, leaving the pastries. Noah slowly sits back down, closing his eyes on the streaming tears. Blaine was right, he always was. He needed to close the door to Finn and he needed to make sure wasn't going to kill himself and he needed to know what he did that made Finn leave him and he needed…he needed to leave for Lima. Picking up his cell he dialed Blaine.

"How fast can you pack?"

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