Author's Note: I honestly intended to have this chapter done and posted three days ago. But this week has been filled with an escaped dog that was found again (after a near-panic attack and a lot of tears on my part), fence repairs to ensure that said dog does not go for another unsupervised "tour" of the neighborhood, and even a lovely case of identity theft that left me swearing at the bank for an hour. So anyway, sorry for the delay!
The "facts" about Rachel's sudden return to Lima flowed so effortlessly from her lips that she found herself wondering again why she was such a paramount failure at her Broadway endeavors. And she felt completely satisfied with every word she uttered until Puck said, "You know I know that whole story you just told me is pure bullshit, right?"
"Excuse me?" Rachel sputtered, forcing indignation into her voice while hoping that he didn't notice how uncomfortable she was.
Puck smirked, leaning back against the bench and throwing his arm behind Rachel. "S'bullshit and I'm gonna tell ya why."
"Oh, please do elaborate."
Puck kicked his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. His relaxed nature made Rachel envious as she sat ramrod straight, knees pressed together, breath hitching in her throat due to the fact that she was about to potentially be called out on her lies.
"So here's the thing," Puck began, "if your show just closed to move to Broadway, your ass would be in New York doing interviews and photo shoots and all that shit."
"Well," Rachel argued, "who's to say that I won't be returning in a few weeks to start doing all that things then? Moving a show is a very arduous process and it's not done overnight, you know."
Puck rolled his eyes and looked at her. "Look, Rachel, I may not've seen you in fucking forever but I haven't forgotten how you are. Sure, you seem a little more relaxed than you used to be but there is no fucking way that if you were about to be in a Broadway musical, you'd be in this shit town, hanging out on a goddamn bench dressed like a slob instead of rehearsing around the clock and driving everybody within a two-mile radius insane."
Rachel looked down at her baggy shirt and yoga pants and felt her blush return. "I don't look like a slob! I'm comfortable, Noah! That's a really rude thing for you to say to someone you haven't spoken to since you were 18 years old!"
Appearing disinterested in her protests, Puck just shot her a bored look. "You're the one that wrote me that letter telling me what a huge fucking success you were so, the way I see it, you pretty much invited this on yourself."
Rachel shifted in her seat and glanced at Puck. "So how are you doing since you got out?"
"Fine, I guess. On probation, suspended license, not supposed to drink, all that shit. And don't try to change the subject, Rachel. D'you get fired? Fuck the director?" With a leering smile on his face, he added, "Fuck the director's wife, maybe?"
"Noah!" Rachel shrieked. "I did nothing of the sort! I am highly professional, thank you very much, and would never dream of mixing business with pleasure in such a blatantly disrespectful manner! I can't believe you would even insinu…" Rachel let her words trail off when she saw the satisfied smirk on his face. He was baiting her.
Rachel nudged him with her shoulder and then she said, "Okay…so maybe there are other reasons, extenuating circumstances if you will, that have forced me home but…" She looked away, her eyes glassy. "But I'm still processing it all."
"Got it… so you don't want to tell me the truth. Fine. Whatever. Your fuckin' loss. Trying to lend an ear here."
Rachel let the conversation hang in the air between them for a minute before she said, "Things just didn't work out as planned, Noah. But I'm resilient and I'm going to bounce back." She turned toward him, locking her eyes with his, and gave him a shining smile. "I always bounce back."
Puck raised his eyebrows at her, his mouth opening. He didn't believe her. Even though her smile gleamed like a spotlight, those dark, heavy bags under her eyes were very telling. And those eyes… The emptiness he saw in them nearly made him shudder. The Rachel he remembered had eyes that sparkled. This woman seemed like a shell of the girl he knew.
Shifting because his foot was falling asleep, Puck glanced down at his watch. "I've gotta get going, Rachel. Ma's waiting on me by now, I'm sure. And she's gonna want to hear all about the probation officer's meeting. Fucking sucks to be back at home with my mom." Puck sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish I could fucking leave this town and never come back."
Rachel found herself nodding along with him. "I got out once…never thought I'd be back here again."
"Sucks, don't it?"
"I just don't belong here, Noah. I didn't when I was 18 and I really, truly don't now that I'm nearly 28."
Puck grunted in acknowledgment before he stood up and Rachel's eyes followed him. "Are you walking? My car is just across the street at Quinn and Sam's. I can drive you if you'd like."
Rachel watched as Puck's eyes shot across the street in the direction of the Evans' home. His eyes became cloudy and he looked away, his eyes downcast. "Uh, sure, Rachel. That'd be great."
They walked in silence across the street and Rachel watched Puck out of the corner of her eye. She could tell, from the tenseness of his shoulders to the quick way in which he slid inside her car as soon as she unlocked the doors, that he was uncomfortable. When she climbed in and started the engine, she saw his eyes jerk upward toward Quinn's home for the briefest of moments before he looked away again. But once she backed out of the driveway and headed down the street and away from the home that housed a woman that was very much a part of his past that he couldn't forget, his posture relaxed.
A few minutes later, Rachel was stopping at the curb outside of Puck's house. Before he turned to thank Rachel for the ride, he noticed that his mom's car still wasn't in the driveway. Shrugging, he pushed open the door and then turned toward Rachel. "S'good to see you, Rachel. Since we're both stuck in this shitty town again, we should…you know…hang?"
Rachel smiled and nodded. "I'd like that, Noah. I'd really enjoy that."
She watched Puck slide from the car and then he put two fingers to his forehead and saluted her as she drove away. She waggled her fingers at him and then sped down the street. Between visiting with Sam and Quinn and then running into Noah, she felt slightly better.
When Puck unlocked the door and stepped inside, the house was dark. He flipped on the lamp by the door and then made his way into the kitchen to find some food. Passing the fridge, Puck noticed a note on bright pink paper taped to it. Yanking it off and ignoring the magnet that went flying across the room, Puck read:
Noah, your sister called and needed me to run something to campus for her. I'll be back in a few hours. I want to hear all about your visit to the probation office. Love you, hon.
Mom
Puck wadded the note up and tossed it on the bar, not bothering to retrieve it once it slid across the smooth surface and fell to the floor. After grabbing a can of Dr. Pepper and a slice of cheese from the fridge, he wandered around the house, trying to find something to occupy him. He finally sat down on the couch and stared at the TV before glancing down at the remote and then back up at the TV while he quickly downed the single slice of American cheese. He took another drink of his soda and scowled at the way it went down his throat. It felt weak…ineffective. He needed more.
Standing back up, Puck dropped his soda into the trashcan on his way out to the garage. While the old door creaked and groaned as it opened, dust swirled up around him. Years ago, long after Puck's father had disappeared, the Puckerman garage had become a storage unit of sorts. Sarah's old cradle sat in one corner, long-since dismantled and covered in spider webs. There was a box labeled "Halloween costumes" that Puck knew was filled with the various scary masks and plastic weapons that he had worn when trick-or-treating his way through the neighborhood with Finn in tow. Of course, Finn was dressed like a superhero. Every single Halloween, Finn always dressed like a superhero.
Puck pushed through a small opening between one of Nana Connie's old, discarded tables and a love seat that was so old that Puck thought he might have actually been conceived on it. Looking around, he spotted a box of his old G.I. Joe action figures and Sarah's hideous Barbie mansion. And there, lodged between the tool bench and a plastic tub, was the object of his search: his old bicycle.
It took Puck a few minutes to dig through years of refuse and memories to finally reach the old bike. Wheeling it out, he noticed that the tires were slightly cracked but could probably still hold air. It took a few more minutes of rummaging around to finally find his ancient air pump. But soon, the tires were nice and firm and the handles and seat had been dusted off. Puck swung his leg over it and began to pedal down the driveway, wobbling slightly since it had been so many years since he'd been on it. With a sideway, slightly forlorn glance at his shiny black car, he pedaled down the street toward his destination 11 blocks away.
Two hours later, when Maggie finally got home from Columbus and found her son heavily intoxicated and on his way to passing out, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. She wasn't staying in that house with a drunk. She'd already lived that life once – the violence and anger and hurtful words - and wasn't about to relive it again.
The next afternoon, Rachel was sitting in the middle of her bedroom floor, her eyes clenched. Soft music filtered out of the speakers attached to her computer and she was breathing deeply and evenly. While she wasn't a heavy meditator, the tense feeling at the base of her neck wouldn't dissolve and was starting to climb up to the crown of her head and across her shoulders. Never one to any type of pill that wasn't natural for fear of what it could do to her body, or worse, to her voice, she didn't like to take pain medicine, even though it would probably alleviate her tension. So there she sat, her eyes closed tightly to block out the glaringly yellow walls, when she heard, "Rachel, can you come in here?"
Her dad's voice wafted up the stairs and distracted Rachel from concentrating. Scowling, she pushed herself off the floor and hurried down the stairs, tucking her hair behind her ear as she went.
"Yes, Dad?"
"Honey, I wanted to let you know that I landed you a job today. You start on Monday."
Rachel stared at her father, her mouth going slack from shock. "Job? What job?"
Leroy Berry looked pleased with himself. "My client, Darcy Angelino? She owns 'Second Time Treasures' down on Walnut. She dropped off her retail sales receipts today and happened to mention that she has an opening. I told her you were looking for a job and she said it's yours."
"Excuse me? You committed me to employment without even asking me? Isn't that the junk store?" Rachel's voice rose as she spoke, anger beginning to flare deep inside her. The dull ache at the back of her neck started to throb and Rachel twisted her head first to the left and then to the right, hoping to stave off the strangling feeling that seemed to radiate from that center point of pain.
"It's a second-hand store, honey. It's not junk. You're all about recycling and repurposing, right? That is exactly what the store does!" Leroy argued, tossing a concerned glance toward his husband.
"Daddy!" Rachel argued. "Please tell him that he can't just 'get' me a job when I didn't want one?"
Hiram sighed heavily. "Honey, you need to work. You still have leftover bills from New York City coming in. The money we put in your back account a few months ago is nearly gone. There's less than $600 in there now. It just makes sense for you to begin working. It's the quickest way for you to get back on your feet."
Frustration nearly overwhelmed Rachel. Her heart rate picked up and she felt her face go red. "It's ridiculous. You either want me to go to graduate school or work in a menial job selling used junk to cheapskates. What about what I want?" She ignored the crack in her voice and glared at her fathers.
"Kitten, you've had five years to do what you want and it didn't work out. Your father and I are merely trying to help you find a new path."
"I don't want a new path," Rachel seethed defiantly despite the fact that her throat felt thick with tears. "I want to get back on my feet and get back to New York. I don't need you two deciding my life's path for me any more than you already have. You're the ones that groomed me to be a performer. You're the ones that encouraged me to go after what I wanted. I did all those things and now you want me to give it all up? I am the person I am and the performer that I am because of you and—" Her words were cut short when she felt a sob threaten to escape her lips. Turning quickly, Rachel bolted back up the stairs and slammed the door with a loud and angry "hmph." She hated feeling like a helpless child but thanks to her fathers, that's exactly how she felt.
…
Later that day, Rachel was lying on her bed, her headphones sealed tightly around her ears to lock out the sound of her fathers knocking on her door. She felt her bed vibrate slightly and looked down to see that her cell phone was ringing. The number was local but she didn't recognize it right off.
"Hello?" she asked, tossing the headphones on the bed.
"Rachel?"
Rachel's face eased into a smile. "Noah, how are you?"
She heard him snort on the other end. "You don't even really want the answer to that question, do you?"
Laughing, Rachel stretched out on her bed. "If you're the same as the other day, I'll pass."
Puck sighed into the phone. "Your shit going any better?"
Rachel's eyes prickled with the memory of the fight she'd just had. "No," she admitted. "If anything, it's worse."
"You wanna get outta there for a while? Maybe meet me at the pizza joint around the corner from my house?"
At the mention of food, Rachel's stomach began growling. Due to protesting the Machiavellian actions of her fathers, Rachel had opted to skip dinner. "That would be fabulous, Noah. I'll see you in 15 minutes."
…
Less than an hour later, Rachel was daintily dipping a crusty breadstick in marinara sauce and laughing as Puck tried to decide what he wanted on his pizza. Looking over his menu, he glanced at Rachel. "Wait…how are you gonna eat this shit? It's got milk in it."
Rachel shook her head. "I had to give up total veganism when the budget got a little tighter, Noah. It's so hard to live that lifestyle when there's approximately $10 a week in the budget for food. I still refuse to eat meat, though. And I limit my dairy intake as much as possible by drinking soymilk instead of cow's milk." Rachel tapped the last of her breadstick on the edge of the little plastic dipping cup and then popped it into her mouth. After chewing, she added, "I also stay away from cheeses that are high in fat. And I will never, ever knowingly eat an egg of any kind." Rachel shuddered and Puck nodded solemnly, both of them remembering the egging incident in high school that had scarred Rachel for life and had made Puck want to bust a few more faces than normal.
"So what you're saying is that you'll eat mozzarella cheese on pizza?" Puck's lips were pinched as he tried to suppress a grin.
"Basically," Rachel agreed with a laugh.
Puck glanced back down at the menu and then closed it just as the waitress was approaching. "We'll have a large pizza with all the vegetables except for olives." Looking at Rachel, he asked, "You want anything else?"
Rachel shook her head and the waitress took their menus and disappeared to put in their order. "Are you sure you don't want meat on your pizza, Noah?"
Puck said, "Nah, veggie is fine," before grabbing a breadstick from the basket. After shaking a thick layer of processed Parmesan cheese onto it, he messily swiped it through the marinara, sending a chunk of tomato slopping out onto the table. He shoved at it with his hand and it streaked across the smooth surface before dropping off onto the floor and Rachel screwed up her face. "You're disgusting."
Puck just grinned and took a bite of the bread while he looked at Rachel. "So, what's going on with your dads?"
Rachel let out a huge, breathy exhale that sent her bangs fluttering in the breeze and then she rolled her eyes. "I don't even know where to begin, Noah. They just want to control my life and I'm exhausted. No, things in New York didn't turn out exactly like I anticipated but that doesn't mean I'm ready to make a 180 and head in another direction."
Puck looked at Rachel thoughtfully. "So you ready to tell me all about what did happen in New York, Rach?"
"No, not yet," Rachel said. And, if she were honest with herself, she would actually love to talk to him about it. At least then, she'd have an outside opinion other than her fathers, who were disappointed in her, and Quinn, who was too busy trying to make her feel better to really allow her to vent all her frustrations. Rachel even knew that it would probably be so easy to tell him of all of the rejections, cancelled auditions, and missed opportunities she'd encountered along the very rocky and dark path to stardom. She knew he wouldn't judge her, of course. But voicing her failures to one of the people who was sure she'd take New York by storm was just too hard.
"It won't kill you to tell me what happened," Puck told her honestly. "I mean, I know I was kinda an asshole back then and…well, shit, I'm probably still an asshole but I am capable of adult conversation."
"I know, Noah, and I appreciate it. When I've made sense of it all, you'll hear all of it, I promise." She flashed him a smile and Puck let out a laugh, saying, "I have no doubt that's true."
Puck was quiet for a moment and then he said, "We should get the fuck out of here."
Rachel glanced around the restaurant. "But Noah, the food's not even here yet."
"No," Puck groaned, exasperated. "Not here, pizza joint but here, fucking Lima!"
"That's what I'm trying to do, Noah. Getting the hell out of this town is on the top of my list."
"I mean, let's pack up our shit, toss it in the car, and just drive."
Rachel eyed him curiously. "Where would we go?"
"Does it really fucking matter? You're about to start working in the biggest shit store in Lima and I—"
Rachel cut him off, interjecting with, "There's no way I'm going to work in that store, Noah. No way."
Puck held up his hand to quiet her. "S'not the point. The point is that Lima sucks ass and we're both fucking stuck here unless we do something about it. So let's do something about it. Pack our shit and go. Hop on I-70 and just drive."
"With no destination in mind? That would be irresponsible…and even reckless, Noah."
Quirking his eyebrow up at her, he said, "I know, babe, that's the point."
Rachel laughed at him, dismissing the idea because she knew he wasn't really serious. But as the waitress sat their hot pizza down in front of them, Rachel admitted to herself that the idea was at least appealing. Leaving Lima for anywhere else sounded like the greatest idea she'd heard since she arrived home.
Puck's head was pounding from the after-effects of his latest bender when his mother angrily pushed open the front door. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and blanched because her eyes were blazing. She moved quickly into the living room and spotted a bottle of vodka sitting next to Puck on the couch. Before he could even pause the video game he'd been playing, she jerked it away from him, unscrewed the top, and stormed outside to dump it out.
He stared, slack-jawed, when she stomped back into the living room and tossed the now-empty bottled at him, wincing when it bounced off his chest.
"I'm tired of this, Noah. When I came home last night, you were passed out on the floor in here. On the floor." Maggie began to pace around the room, her voice rising when she barked, "You know what got you into this trouble and even why you went to jail. You know what your probation officer told you about drinking. And yet here you are, freeloading in my house and continuing to drink? I can't…" Maggie stopped and stared pointedly at him while her eyes filled with tears. "I can't live like this and if you don't stop drinking, I want…I want you gone. Out of my house."
Puck's mouth fell open and his instincts were to immediately lash back but when the tears rolled down his mother's cheeks, he lost the fight inside him and just stared at her. "I know, Mom. I know. I fucking know what I'm doing every damn time I pick up that bottle. And I fight it… I do. But I always lose."
Maggie wiped the tear from her cheek with the collar of her shirt and met her son's pained eyes. "You're a strong man, Noah. You've always been strong. You have the power to fight this, you just don't want to. And I can't fight this battle for you but I refuse, refuse to sit by and watch you drink yourself to death. So you have a choice: stop drinking completely and get help or get the hell out of my house."
Before he could answer, Maggie turned on her heel and fled out of the room. Puck sat, slowly slumping back into the cushions of the couch, and stared at the paused video game on the screen. Now what the fuck was he gonna do?
Rachel knew better go to go the grocery store when she was hungry. So with the smell of fresh-baked bread lingering in the air and a growling stomach, she moved quickly through the aisles, tossing fresh vegetables, whole grain bread, and a box of oat bran into her cart. She was standing in front of the dairy section, weighing the options of either vanilla or chocolate soymilk, when she heard her name called.
"Wow! Rachel Berry! I can't believe you're here in town!"
Glancing around, Rachel's eyes fell to a smile that she would never forget. Her former choir director stood a few feet away with a massive grin on his face, his eyes wide at the shock of seeing his former student.
Rachel felt dread pool in the pit of her stomach because she knew of the inevitable questioning that would come next. But ever the actress (even an unemployed one), she went into "star" mode and returned his grin with one of her own. "Mr. Schuester! It's wonderful to see you! How are you?"
Will Schuester stepped closer, pulling his cart up alongside Rachel's. "I'm doing great, just great. School just started so I'm still mentally preparing myself to for the school year." Will paused and let his eyes roam over Rachel's face. "Wow. It's really just awesome to see you here. How's New York? Are you home visiting?"
Rachel paused, her eyes searching for some form of escape. Seeing no way out that wasn't horrendously rude, she forced her gaze back on that of her teacher and pushed forward. "I'm home for a little while. I'm going to be returning to New York soon."
"Are you in between shows right now? I haven't heard anything about you for a few years but I assume you're on Broadway, right? And you did graduate from Juilliard, of course."
"I… I'm doing… I mean I've done off-Broadway work for the last few years, actually." Rachel's voice was strained, her mind frantically searching for a way to transition the conversation away from herself. "So, how's the glee club doing?"
Will beamed. "Fantastic. We're up to 28 kids! Can you believe it? Ever since you guys took nationals your senior year, we've been incredibly lucky to continue to get some very talented students." He paused and then snapped his fingers. "That gives me an idea! Why don't you stop by my class next week and talk to the students? They all know about the legendary Rachel Berry. You're the best singer to ever come through McKinley and they'd love to hear all about your New York escapades and what it's like to be on Broadway!"
Will's words and the idea of coming back to her old choir room, where her dreams were huge and the idea that they might not come true completely unheard of, sent daggers of pain through her stomach. She flinched against the misery and bit her lower lip, smiling weakly. "I'll…I'll see what I can do, Mr. Schue."
Placing his hand on Rachel's shoulder, Will said, "That would be great. I think the kids would really be impressed! When you decide you want to come, just call the school and ask for me….I've got to be going, Rachel. I look forward to your visit, though!"
Rachel watched her former teacher leave, her stomach feeling heavy and painful. Then, quickly hurrying down the aisle, she paid for her purchases and retreated with one thought repeating in her head: there's no way in hell I'm doing that.
Puck's eyes drifted open before closing again. In the distance, he heard the thumping of a fist against the front door. Groaning, he pushed himself up and climbed out of bed. He advanced down the stairs and jerked open the door , lazily raking his nails across his abdomen.
Rachel was standing on his front porch, her mouth open as she stared at him. Puck looked down, realized he was standing in his boxers, and shrugged. "What's up, Rach? It's early."
Rachel shook her head and walked past him and into his house. When she turned, she was wide eyed. "Okay, fine…we'll go, Noah."
"Go?" Puck cocked his head and looked at her. "The fuck you mean, 'we'll go'? Go where?"
"Go!" Rachel threw her hand up in the air, motioning towards outside. "Leave Lima! You know, like you suggested the other night?" She turned on the ball of her foot and paced across the living room before storming back toward him. "I can't stay here anymore, Noah. My parents are going to suffocate me. This town is going to suffocate me. So if you were serious about going, I'm completely supportive of the idea now."
Puck's confused look transformed into a smile and he pumped his fist as he gazed at Rachel. But before he could say anything, she stuck her finger up to shush him and said, "But only on one condition."
"And that would be?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"No drinking. You can't have a single drink on this trip because I refuse to be around you when you're inebriated."
Puck's triumphant gaze faltered for a moment. Not a single drink for God only knew how long? That was going to be really hard.
Rachel watched the emotion play over his face and met his eyes determinedly. "That's the stipulation, Puckerman. Take it or leave it."
Her eyes were blazing and Puck could tell that she wasn't fucking kidding around. And even though the thought of not drinking nearly killed him, he was pretty sure staying in Lima was going to kill him, too. The vision of his angry, tear-ridden mother flashed through his mind. And then he thought of his equally as disappointed Nana and realized that, if he didn't make some kind of change, his mom was going to toss him out on his ass anyway. Finally, he shrugged. "You've got a deal, Rachel."
Rachel beamed at him. "Perfect. I'll go home and pack. We leave tomorrow."
Puck let out a snort and said, "That's fine but I gotta ask… where are we going, exactly?"
Rachel paused and then lifted her chin defiantly. "I don't care. Away from here. Why don't we head west?"
"Hmm…like, Illinois or something?"
Rachel shook her head. "No! Think grander! Like Colorado! Or Arizona! We could go see the Grand Canyon! I've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon. Or we could even go Utah!"
Puck scowled. "The fuck would we do in Utah? What's even in Utah, anyway?"
Rachel ignored him and clarified, "It doesn't matter where we go, Noah. Let's just go. Away from our troubles for a while. Doesn't it sound fantastic?" Her voice squeaked with happiness and he felt himself smile right along with her.
"Anything is better than staying here. I'm pissing off my mom and I just… I'm tired of being a fu—" Cutting himself off, he took a breath. "I'm just tired."
Nodding, Rachel gripped Puck's forearm. "So let's head west, Noah. As much as it terrifies me to say this, let's not settle on a destination yet. Or even a timetable. I just… I need to get out before I drown."
Puck was familiar with that feeling. Drowning in disappointment. Drowning in frustration. Drowning in booze. He felt just as stifled as Rachel did. Barely bobbing his head, he met Rachel's eyes and smiled. "We'll leave tomorrow."
Next up: Puck and Rachel hit the road.
