Author notes Special thanks to Graces of the Child and Niblett for being great betas
Chapter 3 Desperation
"I'm quitting Glee."
Mr. Schuester stared at Puck as if the words coming out of his mouth were in Russian.
"Wait, Noah. You're what?"
Puck sighed. It had started this morning; actually, it had really been going on for a while. Ever since he joined Glee, he felt that he really wanted to be a good guy all of a sudden, and he knew that he couldn't get through life in Lima on being nice and caring about people.
Helping Kurt was the straw that broke the camel's back.
This morning, when he threw the freshmen into the dumpster, it wasn't satisfying at all, and for the whole day he had been concerned about Kurt.
Kurt Hummel, of all people.
Just because he hadn't come to school today.
"Is this about Kurt?" Mr. Schuester interrupted his train of thought.
Puck looked away, "They told you?"
Mr. Schuester nodded. "But I swore them to secrecy… So by the end of the week, everyone will know." Fucking fantastic.
Puck ran his hand through his nonexistent hair, "Mr. Schue, I know who I am, this isn't it."
"You seem to be enjoying yourself."
"I'm not talented like Rachel, or even like Finn. Singing isn't going to get me out of this town."
"Then what will, Noah?"
"Nothing, Mr. Schue! I'm not getting out of this one horse town; I'll be a Lima loser forever!"
"You don't have to be." Here came another "follow your dreams" speech. Hadn't Puck learned that lesson two or three weeks ago?
"But I'm okay with that now! But these other people, that make fun of Glee, they're not going to get out either. I'm going to have to work with these other Lima losers, live with them, raise my family with them. They need to respect me, not these people in Glee that might have a chance at being great."
Mr. Schue sighed, "We're almost to Nationals, Noah. Things will be different."
Puck shook his head, "Isn't this why you got replacements?"
"They're not as talented as you. And Quinn is going to be too big to perform at Nationals, which means introducing two new members that don't have the chemistry together… Tell you what, Noah. How about you wait until after Spring Break, talk to Quinn and do some soul searching, and then decide if you are going to allow these people to decide your life for you. You owe me–you owe us–that much."
"Fine," Puck looked away, "But I'm already sure. I want to get a job to help with Quinn."
"I thought she was on government help."
"She is, but that doesn't pay for everything."
Mr. Schuester sighed and patted him on the shoulder, "I know how you feel. Do what you have to do, Noah, but think what kind of message that you'll be sending your daughter if you quit something you love."
That was a lie, Puck tried to tell himself. He was doing it for someone he loved: his unborn baby girl. Wasn't that more important than himself?
Mr. Schuester smiled as the other Glee members began to arrive. "We'll talk later," he faced the club, whose members were filing in one by one.
"I know you've all already checked out for Spring Break so… No assignment this week." Everyone cheered, "We will still be practicing our dance moves because some of us haven't got them down. Now I don't want to name names: Finn." Everyone snickered.
"How's Kurt doing?" Tina leaned over and whispered to Puck.
The whispered carried and everyone turned towards Puck curiously. "I don't know." He crossed his arms'; he usually liked attention but not for the wrong reasons.
"What happened?" Artie asked and pushed his glasses up.
Puck sighed. "He was in a fight, I found him afterwards. I took him home and left. End of story."
"Why did you help him?" Quinn asked, looking at him curiously with a mixture of different emotions that Puck tried to identify. He knew that Quinn liked Kurt well enough, but even she was suspicious of his motives.
"Because I'm a nice guy, alright!" He said, hoping to get on her good side.
"No, you're not," Finn said icily from his seat and Puck glared in his direction; the tension was still thick after all this time.
"Alright, enough chatter. Let's all stand up and take it from the top," Mr. Schuester interrupted, knowing when things were getting a little too intense.
As Mr. Schuester was helping Finn for the fourth time, everyone else was left to their own devices, and Puck was sitting alone. He liked to sit apart from the group just to show that he was here but he wasn't like them. His phone buzzed and reached into his pocket.
It was a text from an unknown number but the area code was local.
Puck, this is Kurt. Can you come over today?
Puck stared at the message for several seconds, his mouth and eyes wide.
Why?
He hoped that Kurt hadn't got the wrong idea with his moment of insanity. They weren't friends. Period.
Please, it won't take long.
Puck leaned his head back and grumbled to himself, "Damnit." What could he do now?
Yeah after Glee but I can't stay
He didn't have any plans; he just wanted an excuse to leave once he got there.
Thanks, Noah.He wrote back quickly and then shoved his phone back into his pocket. Glee was making him soft and he needed to get the hell out of it.
Don't you dare tell anyone.
Kurt ordered a pizza before Puck got there, knowing that Puck was more agreeable when he was fed, and set the pizza out on the kitchen table; his dad wouldn't be home for a while and he knew that Puck would likely be uncomfortable in his room. He didn't like thinking about Puck like that; he was eternally thankful what he done for him but he just didn't need this in his life.
He hadn't realized how nervous he was until he heard the door bell ring, getting up to answer and straightening his shirt. He took Puck's advice and wore a loose-fitting shirt that actually belonged to his dad. Puck began to ring the door bell repeatedly, trying to make a tune out of it. Kurt giggled and shook his head at Puck's child like behavior.
He opened the door, offering a small smile in greeting, "Hello, Noah."
Puck nodded and looked down at Kurt, "The swelling is down a lot."
"Frozen peas, and I kept my head elevated. I had to Google that last night," he told him, "There's pizza on the kitchen table."
Puck looked down the hallway, and Kurt knew he could smell it easily. "Good, I'm starved." He slid past Kurt, "You got any beer?"
Kurt laughed, "Yes, but my dad would kill you. Slowly." He walked up to the fridge, "We have soda."
"Whatever is fine," Puck responded with his mouth full.
Kurt nodded and grabbed a cup, pouring some soda for Puck before he sat down next to him. "I noticed you don't like ice," He said, handing Puck his cup.
Puck thought it was really weird that Kurt knew that, but shrugged and took the drink, "So why am I here, other than to feed me?"
Kurt sighed, "Well, I wanted to thank you."
"Don't bother. I should be keeping a tighter leash on these guys."
"You're not their leader, Puck."
"But they used to follow me and listen to me. You know I started that slushy facial in the 9th grade? And I probably threw the first person in the dumpster." Puck knew it wasn't something to be proud of, but he couldn't help pointing it out.
"Well thank you for that," A pause; Puck though that Kurt looked like he was doing some deep thinking, "But have you ever beaten anyone up?"
"No." Never.
"I guess it's sort of a gateway drug: you start with something harmless and fun–although it wasn't much fun for me–and then it turns to something bad." He looked down at his hands. Now Puck was really feeling guilty. Would that happen to him if he went back?
"If I hadn't joined Glee, it wouldn't have happened."
"Yes, it would have. They didn't beat me because a few football players joined Glee. They beat me up because they were drunk and ignorant. They were so damn afraid of something different they had to try to make me afraid of who I was. They were trying to beat me back into the closest."
"I'm not like them," Puck said quickly and looked up at Kurt, "But I'm not like you either–not like the others in Glee club."
Kurt smiled, reaching across the table to place his hand on top of Puck's; he didn't notice it right away. "Don't be ashamed of being… extraordinary. Uniqueness is one of the rarest gifts, Noah."
He shrugged, "So is that all you wanted?" He pulled back his hand, dropping it by his side. Wait, had he just called him Noah? No, only his ma, Figgins, and Rachel–for some reason–could call him that.
"No." Kurt tried to ignore the sudden lack of touch.
Flashback
Burt ended his day feeling good; the shop's profits were good and he even had managed to get out of there early. He didn't expect his son home, but he was happy to see him, especially since Kurt was usually working hard on his dancing or high Cs.
"Kurt, you home?"
"Yeah," a small voice came from the living room.
Burt sighed: the boy had more ups and downs than an elevator. He walked into the dark living room; Kurt was lying on the couch with a bag of frozen peas over his left eye.
Burt flicked on the light and dropped his gaze, "What the hell happened!" He ran across the room in two steps and knelt beside his son, taking the frozen vegetables so he could get a better look.
"Don't overreact."
"Like hell, I won't! Did those bullies at school did this to you? That's it. I'm calling the cops! These cowards are going down for this!"
"No!" Kurt protested, jumping up as fast as he could without giving away the extent of his injuries.
"I was just in a fight, dad. It was a 'boys will be boys' kind of thing… You should have seen the other guys." Kurt ended with an awkward chuckle; even his dad had to have known he was lying.
Burt turned to his son.
"You got your ass kicked."
Kurt nodded, "But that is no reason to call the cops, dad." He reached out and took the phone from his dad's hand, "Please, things are hard enough without me being responsible for our best baseball players being put into jail."
"Well, they should have thought about that before they touched you!"
"Look at my hands, dad." He brought them up and they showed the tell-tale signs of self-defense. "If they get into trouble, they will spin it around on me too, dad, for fighting back. I can't risk getting suspended when Nationals are so close."
"Wait, so you hit one?"
Kurt grinned, "Just like you showed me."
Burt nodded, "Good. No one pushes a Hummel and gets away unharmed." He grabbed the bag of peas and placed it back on his face, "Keep it elevated when you sleep, it will help the swelling."Kurt nodded, and his dad continued, "Stay home tomorrow too." Kurt couldn't help but agree.
"I don't think I want you going on that trip now."
"No, dad. You promised!"
Burt sighed and turned towards his son, wishing like hell his wife was here, "You were just in a fight; I don't want you going down there with Mercedes. You obviously can't take care of yourself."
"I'm not going with Mercedes, she's busy."
"Then who are you going with?"
Kurt felt his trip slowly slipping away and as his mind was searching for answer, his mouth acted. "Um… Puck!"
"Puck?" His father repeated slowly.
"Noah Puckerman. He plays football, and he's in Glee too."
Burt frowned. "He isn't your boyfriend… Is he?"
Kurt laughed, "Oh no, he's straight. Just a friend. He helped me home after the fight."
Burt nodded, "Alright but I have to meet him first."
Kurt's mouth parted slowly as his dad walked into the kitchen; he must have been hit harder than he thought because he was obviously not thinking clearly–
"I was hoping I could talk you into something… Well, you see–my dad is letting me to drive to Key West–that's in Florida–but he won't let me go alone and he was pressuring me yesterday about who I was taking andIsaidIwastakingyou."
"Well," Puck said after a minute of silence, his tone expressing nothing, "You'd better tell him different."
Kurt's face fell. "All expenses paid, you don't have to hang out with me once we get there."
Puck shook his head. He knew Kurt was trying to bargain with him, and he needed to make sure it didn't work, "You got the wrong idea, Hummel. Just because of yesterday, it doesn't mean we're friends. "
"I know that, but I need to get out of Ohio. I need to go somewhere where I'm accepted for who I am and–" Okay, now the kid was rambling.
"Sorry," He wasn't. "As much as I would love to spend hours upon hours in the car with you, I need to get a job so I can help Quinn."
Puck stood up, deciding it was time to leave before Kurt started to cry.
"Wait!" Kurt called out, truly desperate, "I'll pay you."
Puck stopped and turned towards him, "How much?"
"A hundred?"
Puck laughed, "Make it three hundred."
"Three hundred!"
"Hey, Mr. Showtunes, you're not easy to be around. Think of it as hazard pay in case someone finds out."
"I can do two hundred."
Puck thought about it for a second. For a week, that was a lot of money… And it was guaranteed, where he might not be able to find a job in that amount of time, "Make it two-fifty and including expenses, then we got a deal."
Kurt sighed and lowered his head and shook it in defeat. "Okay."
"So is Key West a party town?"
Kurt nodded, "If you can stay until my dad gets here, I'll tell you all about it."
"Alright," He said, walking back and sitting back down, "But let's get this straight: this is business; we're not friends; and you're not following me around once we get there."
"Absolutely!"
Puck ate as Kurt pulled out a large map of the eastern United States. It was obvious that he had been planning this for a while, as he had drawn down the route they were to take with a red marker and highlighted places he wanted to stop along the way.
"We can make a few adjustments here and there so we stop places you like," Kurt watched Puck, who was examining the map.
"I haven't been on vacation since I was eight and we went to my Uncle's funeral in New Jersey."
"That's a vacation?"
"Anytime you get out of Lima, Ohio, it's a vacation."
Kurt had to agree; this whole trip was about getting out, even with the sobering fact that he had to return.
Somehow, by the time Burt came home, the boys were laughing so loudly they didn't hear him come in. Puck had seemed to loosen up a bit and Kurt was actually enjoying his company; Kurt found that Puck actually had a very witty sense of humor and was a bit interesting, especially when he wasn't making fun of his sexuality, or throwing him into a dumpster, or throwing a slushy at him.
"Hey, Kurt. How you holding up?"
Kurt was startled and almost screamed; Puck looked up, still somewhat laughing, "Hello, Mr. H." He stood up and shook Burt's hand.
"Going over your trip?"
Kurt nodded and smiled, laughing nervously and almost begging him to play along.
"Hey, Mr. H. I was thinking perhaps we could go ahead and just take off tomorrow?"
Kurt eyes widened; they hadn't discussed that!
Burt frowned, "Kurt already missed today…"
"I know, but he hasn't missed a day all year." He leaned in, "Just between you and me, he's a little embarrassed about the bruising."
Burt looked down at his son: although the swelling in his eye had gone down a little, a large bruise had formed beneath it and his mouth was bruised beneath his lip as well. Even the best makeup and his skilled hands couldn't cover everything.
"You are going to take care of my boy, right? Not letting anything like this happen to him again?"
"I'll do my best." Puck answered. He wasn't afraid of Hummel Senior, especially since he wouldn't actually be watching Kurt at any point in the trip that wasn't necessary.
"Okay. You guys can leave tomorrow."
Kurt looked at Puck, surprised, and mouthed a "thank you." Burt talked to Puck for another few minutes before leaving, saying something about a show being on and left.
"Do you have a picture?" Puck asked.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"A picture–like a mug shot from the shoulders up?"
"I have a few casting pictures I did myself… Why?"
"I want to put in my wallet," he said sarcastically, "I'm making fake IDs. You won't be able to get into any type of good club without one. It's not a glamour shot or anything gay like that?"
"Every picture I take it glamorous," Kurt shot back, but stood up with a wince, "I think I have something downstairs… Is this anyhow going to embarrass me?"
Puck laughed and shook his head, so Kurt went to his room to find the picture that Puck had requested.
"Thanks," he said, and snatched it out of his hand, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Will your mom be okay with you leaving?"
Puck laughed, "She won't know I'm gone." He opened the front door to signal his exit, "Get some rest, Hummel. You're driving."
