Summary: The good news? Puck and Rachel are totally in love. The bad news? They both think the opposite. The worst news? Sam and Santana have a plan to get them together. And exactly what are Quinn and Blaine up to?
Pairings: Oblivious!Puckleberry and established Brittana and Klaine. Featuring Puck/Sam friendships, Faberrtana friendships, Samtana friendship, Pucktana friendship
Warnings: It's a future fic but is pretty canon up to the most recent episode, 'Original Song'. I've obviously spun things my way so it'll most likely be AU once the show returns. So it's probably safe from spoilers.
Disclaimer: I in no way shape or form own Glee despite my continued efforts. I also do not own any movie, magazine or television show mentioned in this story except for the awesomely bad Second Time's the Charm.
Author's Note: We're nearing the final stretch. I know that cliffy was evil but check out the first sentence. He lives! LOL. I hope that this chapter satisfies everyone. Thank you to all my reviewers. I do appreciate them even if I'm not responding right away. You're all beyond awesome. Thank you so much. Well enjoy this chapter in which there will be excessive crazy, kissing and stuffed animal abuse.
Phase 4: #$%! It!
Puck cracked his eyes open a bit and then promptly shut them tight once more as a harsh light bore down on him. He moaned and turned his head to the side in order to avoid that unpleasant experience again. As he struggled to find the energy to try opening his eyes again, he started to notice that something just wasn't right. First off, the light in his room wasn't that damn annoyingly bright. Second, there was this strange stinging sensation in his elbow that was way too familiar for him to be comfortable with. And then there was the warm weight covering his left hand. Add that with the fact that his head really fucking hurt and he couldn't remember how he got…wherever he was and Puck was pretty much figuring that he was starring in the 'The Hangover 4.'
"So you finally decided to wake up, huh?"
"Rach?" he croaked out, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice. His brow furrowed and he opened his eyes to look at her.
She looked tired and pale. The bags that had been so apparent two days ago were practically black circles underneath her usually expressive eyes. The hand that was covering his own hand tightened as she gave him an encouraging smile. It was then that Puck finally looked around. They were most definitely not at home. The stinging in his arm, the bright lights….
"Hospital?"
"Yeah, the hospital," Rachel confirmed with a nod of her head. "As it turns out, getting smacked over the head with a baseball bat is not something you can just shake off. All those movies were wrong."
"Damn," Puck grinned. He shifted trying to find a more comfortable spot and winced as he moved his head. "What happened anyway? All I remember was us talking and then… nothing."
"Well," Rachel flushed obviously remembering the conversation prior to the rude and unwelcome interruption. "It appears that my new acquaintances were as fond of your interruption as I was. Though their way of demonstrating their displeasure left much to be desired."
Puck cleared his throat meaningfully. Though he was very fluent in the language of Rachel the walking dictionary, sometimes it was too much. Like when his head was pounding and there was a persistent itching on his forehead which meant stitches. Awesome.
"The guys that I was dancing with at the club followed us out into the alley and whacked you over the head with a baseball bat," Rachel translated. He nodded gratefully. "Anyway, after they hit you, they started towards me. I used some of the self defense techniques that Santana and I learned and was able to subdue them. Then I called 911 and here we are!"
Puck blinked. "And how exactly did you manage to 'subdue them' Jackie Chan?"
"Did you know that Quinn's dad has enough social and financial clout in this town that if you mention you're staying with his daughter, the authorities tend to overlook the fact that you're carrying a stun gun and may or may not have used said stun gun on their manly parts?"
"A stun gun?!" Puck exclaimed, immediately regretting it as his head throbbed. "Seriously, Rach? Those things are illegal in New York State. You know the state where we live. The state we're still currently in. Who the hell was crazy enough to give you a stun gun?"
"Santana."
"Stupid question, should have known," Puck smiled wryly. "So you're the hero of this piece, huh?"
"Looks like I am. I'm the knight in shining armor and you're the damsel in distress."
"I'm never going to live this down, am I?"
Rachel's smile turned more genuine as she shook her head. "Nope."
"Great," Puck grumbled good-naturedly. "So where are the others anyway? I'm shocked they're not in here raising hell and causing nurses to quit."
Rachel fidgeted in her seat and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't exactly call them." Puck opened his mouth to protest but Rachel cut him off. "Don't give me that look. You said it yourself. They would have been in here raising hell and being general nuisances. There was no reason for all of them to be here. The doctors said that as soon as you woke up, I could take you home."
"And I meant that too," they both looked up to see an older man walk into the room. He smiled at his patient and company. "Nice to see you awake, Mr. Puckerman. You have a very good girlfriend here."
"I…. thanks," Puck couldn't work up the energy to deny it. He turned his head away from Rachel so that he wouldn't have to see her angry expression.
The doctor started his examination. As many concussions as Puck had during the years as a result of his fight club activities and participation in sports, this was just a routine. He saw Rachel mentally taking note of every answer and every question. He knew he was going to have to look forward to Hovering Rachel in the next few days. That might make getting over her a bit harder.
"Well everything checks out," the doctor announced. "You have a mild concussion and you'll probably have a headache for awhile. Just take it easy and no strenuous activities, you should be back to normal."
"Thank you, doctor."
Before he left the room, the doctor paused and looked at Rachel. "And you should get some sleep. I told you he would be fine. You didn't have to stay up all night watching him. Whenever you're ready you can check him out and have one of the nurses call you two a cab. After that both of you get some rest." And then he was gone, leaving a very embarrassed Rachel in his wake.
"You stayed up watching me all night?" Puck asked, breaking the silence in the room. "Why?"
"I don't know anything about the medical professionals in this region. I didn't know if they were up to par. Sure they say it was just a concussion and that you would be fine in a few hours but who knows if they're just coming off a thirty hour shift and are willing to say anything to shut me up. Then you slip into a coma and die and it would have been because I stupidly trusted the doctors. So of course I had to stay up and watch you."
Puck smiled at the typical Berry rant. He knew she probably had been worried out of her mind. He knew he would have been if the situation had been reversed. He pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss there.
"Thanks, Rach."
"You're welcome, Noah," Rachel whispered. "You know that no matter what's going on between us, I could never turn my back on you. You said you'd always be there for me and I'm always going to be there for you too."
"Good."
Rachel gave his hand another squeeze before getting up to start the paperwork to get him out. He watched her go silently. Maybe things were going to be okay between them after all. True, they weren't together, but he was slowly getting her back and that was all that was important at the moment. His heart be damned, all he wanted was Rachel and if being her friend was the only way to get her, then so be it. He would be the best friend ever. Even better than the evil witch that left her drunk at a bar. Oh, he was so going to kick Sam and Santana's asses when he got back home. He sat up in the bed and groaned. Okay, he was going to kick some ass as soon as the room stopped spinning whenever he moved. Then it was so on!
Sam sighed as the clock on the cable box flashed 12. It was officially noon and none of them had heard from Rachel or Puck. This wasn't like either of them, especially Puck. He and Puck had established rules when they first moved to NYC. If one of them is going to be out all night, they needed to send some form of communication to make sure that the other knew they were still alive. But thus far, Sam had received no such communication. Despite Santana's earlier insistence that they were most likely getting it on, he knew that something happened. He tried calling both of their phones but had gotten no response. Rachel's phone was off but Puck's rang until it reached voicemail. He glanced over at Blaine, Quinn and Santana who were alternately glaring at one another and watching some Disney movie.
He started to open his mouth when Santana held up a hand. "Nothing happened, Sam. So just drop it."
"How do you know? I mean, Blaine, Quinn, back me up here."
They both looked ready to deliver some sarcastic comment but thankfully changed their minds at the last minute. Blaine ran a hand over his face tiredly. "There's really nothing we can do until one of them answers their phone."
"But you do agree that something happened, right?"
"Stop feeding his paranoia," Santana rolled her eyes. "Nothing happened."
Sam huffed and kept staring at the clock. Fifteen minutes passed before he brought it up once again. Once more, he was quieted, this time by Quinn. Another five minutes passed and he was set to say something again when he was cut off by the front door opening. The television was off in a second, making Sam wonder if any of them were actually watching the movie to begin with. The four friends surrounded the prodigal pair with disapproving frowns that quickly morphed into looks of horror and confusion at the sight of the bandage covering most of Puck's forehead. He also had the beginnings of a nasty looking black eye forming. Rachel didn't look much better. Sam was more than familiar with Rachel and hangovers and knew she was suffering from one hell of a hangover and apparently a lack of sleep. The lack of sleep was most likely tied to Puck and his bandaged forehead.
"What the hell happened to your head?" Santana asked, quietly, keeping her voice low to help with the no doubt nasty headache Puck was suffering. He tipped his head towards her in gratitude. "Where have you two been?"
"Hospital," Puck replied, casually. He held up his wrist which still had the ID bracelet wrapped around it. "Now we know why I yelled at Rachel's new friends. It's because they're sociopaths with bats."
"They hit you with a bat?" Blaine repeated incredulously.
"Yeah, but it turns out I got the concussion from hitting the dumpster on the way down," Puck mumbled. "That's way more embarrassing. So if you'll excuse me, I'm tired. I feel like shit and I want to die."
"Well, you can die after you've eaten something," Quinn ordered, slipping into mother hen mode. "You too, Rachel. I know for a fact that you haven't been eating lately. And I'm assuming you stayed there all night."
"I did," Rachel replied, though her eyes were only on Puck. "I didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up."
"Why didn't you call us?" Blaine asked.
"I didn't think you guys would care since you all left us there to begin with," Rachel snapped, though the comment was directed more towards Sam and Santana.
"Alright, alright, enough. We can play the Blame Game later," Blaine said, pulling her with him towards the kitchen. Quinn was already steering an unusually complacent Puck with her. As soon as they were out of earshot, Sam turned on Santana.
"You see!" Sam hissed. "This was part of the plan? Puck got attacked by a yuppie with a baseball bat! There are so many ways last night could have gone wrong. We could have lost both of them last night. I really hope this plan was worth it, San!"
Almost as soon as he was done, Sam felt the anger leave him. He saw shades of red he didn't know ran in nature flit across Santana's face as she continued to stare blankly at the spot where Puck and Rachel once stood. He stepped back, scared that he had crossed some sacred line that involved Santana, Puck and Rachel. The foundation of the New York gleeks was born with the friendship between the three of them at the end of junior year. The bond between all of them was thick but it was practically impenetrable when it came to those three.
"All I want is for everyone to be happy," Santana said. Her voice was eerily calm. Sam knew for a fact that this was not a good thing. "I just want them to be fucking happy? Why won't they give in? Why do they continue to fight this at every fucking turn?"
She turned on her heels and marched up the stairs. Sam was torn between finally escaping this madness and just going in the kitchen or following after the completely over the edge former cheerleader to make sure that nothing got set on fire or destroyed. Like there was ever really a choice. He knew what he was doing when he had agreed to this ridiculous plan. He knew that he was basically agreeing to follow Santana to the end. The bloody, horrible end. So with that in mind, he kept along the path of destruction that Santana was blazing to Rachel's room.
When he got there, Santana was tearing through Rachel's personal things with careless abandon. Before Sam could even begin to wonder what she was doing, Santana let out a satisfied, if not slightly maniacal, laugh and turned around brandishing what appeared to be a wrinkled pink and blue stuffed animal. Sam's jaw dropped at the sight of the worn animal. He reached a tentative hand towards it. Santana tossed the stuffed rabbit at him with a shrug.
"Is this Mr. Wubbies? She actually kept this thing? I thought she was just being nice."
"It's Rachel," Santana rolled her eyes as if that explained the meaning of life. "You know what a softie she is. Not to mention it was during the bad times. She's been sleeping with that damn thing ever since we gave it to her. She takes it everywhere but she doesn't want anyone else to know that she kept it. I only know because she had the flu when we were moving in to the apartment and she made me dig through all the boxes to get it for her."
Sam smiled softly as he held the rabbit in his arms. The bad times that Santana was referring to were the times when Rachel was still questioning whether she really had friends or not. Her birthday was a sad affair as she hadn't mentioned it to anyone in fear of being rejected. So no one acknowledged it because no one knew, not even Finn, her boyfriend at the time. It was only because Santana was on Facebook early that morning and saw a impersonal post on Rachel's wall from a random relative that she knew it was her birthday. She mentioned it to Sam and Puck during first period. The end result was Mr. Wubbies, a pink and blue stuffed animal that was sad looking even back then and hadn't improved with age. They had expected a hurt look when presented with the pathetic excuse for a gift but instead, Rachel had melted.
Apparently she had a stuffed animal similar to that when she was younger that her late grandmother gave her that had been lost through the years. Sam thought she was just humoring them by dragging the bunny around all day and even giving him the name Mr. Wubbies. Lunch was the last time he saw Mr. Wubbies as that's when Puck (who had vanished sometime after Santana had told them it was her birthday) had set up a surprise gleek celebration in the choir room. He even had a present for Rachel with his and Santana's names on it. Sam figured that Mr. Wubbies would have been tossed aside after that but apparently he was wrong.
It was then that Sam realized that Santana had been furiously ranting and raving whilst writing something on the desk. Sam walked behind her and peer over her shoulder to see what she was writing.
"Come on, San. This is going too far. Even for you!"
Santana looked up with a terrifying glimmer in her eye. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Trouty Mouth. And bitches are getting desperate."
Sam clutched Mr. Wubbies tighter, suddenly very afraid for his friends.
Rachel only vaguely registered Santana announcing that she and Sam were going to retrieve Puck's truck from the club. She was too angry to really care what was going on with them. How dare Santana let her get that drunk and then just leave her with Puck? She knew how Rachel felt about Puck and she just left in all her impaired judgment and lack of impulse control. She sighed and tried not to fall asleep over her breakfast. Across the table, Puck looked like he was doing the same. It amazed her that Puck slept more than her yet it looked like he hadn't slept for weeks. She wondered idly if she looked that bad as well. She glanced up and caught her reflection on the toaster oven. Yeah, she did look that bad. Still it was worth it. He was worth it.
Almost as he knew she was thinking about him, Puck looked up and gave her a small smile, which she tentatively returned. It wasn't the same anymore, they both knew it. Something fundamental had changed in their relationship… their friendship. They were both forcing it to be the way it was, but it would never be the way it was again. And that thought alone made Rachel want to curl into a ball and cry for days. But she hadn't spent her whole life preparing for Broadway to back down from a challenge now. If the only way to have Puck in her life was to play pretend, then she was willing to do it.
"Q," Puck whined as the blonde came back over plopping another spoonful of eggs on his plate. "I've eaten as much as I can. I'm just not that hungry." Quinn gave him a skeptical look. "I feel like crap. I just want to go lie down. Okay?"
Quinn gave him and his plate one last disapproving look before sending him on his way. Rachel internally was left wondering how Quinn had that much power over all of them when they were all the same age. One look from her and they were all shutting up and under her control. She sat up straight when that look was suddenly thrown in her direction. And his question was answered. It was because Quinn was extremely scary when it came to her friends, no, her family. Her own familial relations left much to be desired and she had adopted them as her family. Her repressed maternal instincts came out full force when it came to them.
"So exactly why did you think it was okay to go to the ER and not let one of us know? I get why you're mad at Santana and Sam, but Blaine and I were still around. You could have called us. We were worried too!"
"I know, I just… I wasn't thinking, okay?" she said tiredly. "Everything was happening so fast. Those guys were there and then he went down. And I was scared that he was dead. By the time the police showed up all I could think about was Noah and making sure that he was okay. I didn't see any need to get you all involved if he was only going to check out in the morning anyway."
"But Puck wasn't the one who needed a friend last night," Blaine pointed out kindly. He smiled sympathetically which was the complete opposite to the glare being thrown her way by Quinn. Absolutely terrifying that one. "Why don't you get some sleep? You look like you're about to pass out."
"Thanks, Blaine," Rachel kissed him on the cheek before rising from her seat. She stood in front of Quinn for a few silent moments before letting her friend hug her tightly. "We're okay, Quinn. I promise."
"I was worried sick," Quinn admitted. "I didn't know where you were. I shouldn't have left you guys last night. And for something so stupid!"
"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Not even Sam and Santana. They didn't know that was going to happen. Besides we're both here and relatively unscathed. Everything is okay."
Quinn nodded tearfully and stepped away. "Just ignore me. Go get some sleep. Maybe later we can get San and have a good old fashioned girls' night."
"I'd like that," Rachel replied honestly. She gave her friend one more hug before heading upstairs to her room. Or rather what was left of her the place she called her room. It looked like a tornado had ripped through her room, throwing clothes, bed linens and pillows every which way. She tracked the pattern of destruction and found that it centered on a certain location. A certain location that up until that moment had been hiding her precious Mr. Wubbies. The same Mr. Wubbies that only Santana knew was even in the house. She was going to rip her best friend apart limb by limb.
Puck had just finished changing to get some sleep when he heard a series of odd noises coming from Santana's room. He knew she was still out so he didn't know who else would be in her room. Curiosity pushed past his pain and he walked into Santana's room only to find… "Rachel?"
"Where is he?"
Puck raised an eyebrow. "Where is who?"
She bit her bottom lip as she visibly hesitated telling him about what she was looking for. He had to fight the urge to grin at the sight. He also had to fight the urge to run over and kiss away the pout that was rapidly forming on her face. Finally, she huffed and crossed her arms over his chest.
"Mr. Wubbies."
Puck blinked once and then again. "I'm sorry. Who?"
"Mr. Wubbies, the stuffed bunny Sam and Santana bought me in high school," was the muttered response. Puck put a hand over his face to stifle his grin. "Oh, that's right. Laugh it up. But I always sleep with him when I don't feel well. And I've got a massive hangover so I want him."
"Alright, well, where was the last place that you saw," he chuckled. "Mr. Wubbies?"
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "I put him back in his new hiding space because Santana keeps threatening him. But I came back and my room was ransacked and Mr. Wubbies was gone. So I know she took him but I don't know where she put him."
Suddenly her eyes landed on a piece of paper on Santana's suspiciously clutter free dresser. It was inconspicuous, held down by a framed photo of Sam, Santana, Puck and Rachel from their first day in New York. Fitting, she thought as she picked up the note. Puck stepped closer to her to read over her shoulder.
"Yes, I took him, midget. Who else knows about that stupid bunny? You want him back? You can find him in the pits of hell. Good luck with that." Rachel groaned. "I hate Santana!"
"Maybe it's the concussion talking but what exactly are the pits of hell?"
"Sam's room," Rachel replied, already out the door. "All I want to do is curl up in bed and go to sleep. But no, I have to go trekking through Sam's hellhole of a room hunting down my damn bunny because my best friend is a goddamn freak of nature! I hate her! I hate my life!"
Puck once again felt the need to take her in his arms but pushed it down and instead chose to accompany her on this little excursion from sanity. They entered Sam's room tentatively before remembering that both Sam and Santana were not around to witness the outcome of their handiwork and depending on what they were really aiming for here it might be awhile before either of them came back. Puck frowned at the complete mess that was his best friend's room.
"Must remind Sam that doing laundry is not a choice but a necessity," he wrinkled his nose and kicked a shirt out of his way. He would never understand how someone as together as Sam could exist in such a state of chaos and disorganization. He also wondered if anything was alive in there.
"Where do you think they put him?"
"They?" Puck asked, after kicking another article of clothing that looked way too feminine to be Sam's… he hoped. "You think Sam had something to do with this?"
"Well this is his room and he's not here to defend himself, so I'm thinking, yes," Rachel gave him a look. Puck simply shook his head and smiled sadly. "What?"
"You've learned well through the years, but you still have a lot to learn when it comes to Santana Lopez. Unfortunately I know Santana better than I know myself some days and I know how her diabolical mind works. She's so up to something and I just can't figure out what it is for the life of me. But it's epic."
"Maybe she's just insane."
"Nah, that shrink said she was fine." Off the incredulous look being thrown his way, Puck grinned. "Come on, babe, you mean to tell me that if you pretty much grew up with someone like Santana, you wouldn't get a little curious as to whether she was mentally stable or not?"
"You two are so weird," Rachel muttered.
Puck continued to walk deeper into the room and paused as something caught his eye. He turned to see a pink and blue stuffed rabbit hanging from the middle of the closest ceiling by its arm. Puck started in so t hat he could get it down before Rachel saw and potentially caused much grievous harm to a certain former cheerleader and quarterback. But apparently he wasn't fast enough if the almost inhuman growl was any indication. Rachel stormed into the room and tried to pull her toy down. Puck stepped into the closet to help her as her height prevented from doing much more than pulling on one of the legs.
"How the hell did they get this up there?"
"They? I thought you were sure that Santana did this alone."
"That was until they tied him to the ceiling. Santana wouldn't hang him from his arm. She'd go full on psycho and hang him by his neck."
"She'd hang my precious?!"
"Did you really just go Gollum on me?" Puck paused in his Wubbie recovery mission to give the girl an incredulous stare.
"Shove it, Puckerman, and help me get him down!"
Puck rolled his eyes but stretched up and finally found what was securing the bear in place. With a few more yanks, the string gave way and Mr. Wubbies was released from his captivity and safely ensconced in Rachel's arms. He turned away from the utterly adorable sight of Rachel cuddling her stuffed bunny to the doors of the closet which had just slammed shut. The sound was enough to tear Rachel out of her tender bunny thoughts as she ran to the door with terror obvious in her face.
"No! "
"What's wrong?" Puck asked as he joined her at the doors.
Rachel paused and turned to face him slowly. "Remember how tight spaces make you nervous"
"If I'm in them too long," he shrugged. "Speaking of which, we've been in here close to too long. Why?"
"Get ready to be nervous. There is a reason we call Sam's room the pits of hell and it isn't because it looks like several dirty hobos have taken residence in his bedroom. Remember that time you and Blaine went to the movies and we were all texting you that we couldn't find Sam? It's because he had stepped into closet and the doors closed behind him and he was locked in."
"Wait, locked in? As in locked in the closet and couldn't get out? He was trapped in here? This very, very, very, very, very," Puck's eyes widened as he looked around. "We're stuck in here?"
"Noah," Rachel said, slowly. "It's going to be alright. Just don't panic."
"I'm not fucking panicking, Rachel!" he yelled, his eyes slightly wild. "Alright, so I'm panicking!"
Rachel sighed and sank to the floor. This was all she needed on top of the hangover from hell. She pulled Puck down to the floor beside her and shoved Mr. Wubbies onto his lap. He looked down at the animal and then up at her.
"I thought you needed him?"
"You look like you need him more," she shrugged. He nodded, quietly grateful. He tried not to look around the tiny closet that he was calling home until someone thought to come looking for them. He was really going to ring Sam's neck when he was out of here. And Santana wasn't going to get off easier just because she was a girl. He'd find a way around that. He was going to massacre them both. But first he was going to have to get his breathing under control. Because apparently hyperventilating didn't leave much room for normal oxygen intake.
"Noah, please, you have to calm down," Rachel whispered. She sighed and pulled him so that he was half lying against her chest with his head resting on her shoulder. Her hand splayed over his rapidly beating heart. "Noah, you have to breath. Breathe with me."
He nearly snorted. Because being held by the one person who wreaked havoc on your hormones just by looking at you was absolutely conducive to breath. Hell being in the same room as Rachel had the effect of taking his breath away, but being in her arms, being this close to her was just torture. So why was he not moving away again? Oh yeah, because he was being held by Rachel Berry. Damn the closet, Mr. Wubbies, Santana and Sam, he was being held by Rachel and despite his unfortunate location and breathing difficulties life was good.
It was then that he noticed something buried in the deep recesses of the closet. He pulled away from Rachel only slightly, not noticing the look of disappointment on her face at the loss of contact. Puck reached towards the bag and pulled it back over for him and Rachel to look through together. They pulled out a few of the magazines and DVDs.
"Noah?"
"Yeah?"
"Why does Sam have a bunch of what are commonly referred to as chick flicks in his closet?"
"I have no idea but he is so going to regret locking me in here now," he grinned, pulling out a few of the DVDs. "Let's see 'Second Time's The Charm' is the amazing story of a girl who gets a second chance with the boy she was too blind to know was in love with her the whole time. We also have 'Torn between Lovers' which is the amazing story of a girl who has to choose between some tool and the guy that's been in love with her the whole time. You notice a theme with these movies?"
"Do you really need to look at those right now?"
"It's either that I start hyperventilating again. Pick one." He picked up another one. "Oh, this one is unwatched. It's called 'The Plan' is about a woman who is so busy playing matchmaker for everyone around her that she's painfully oblivious to the man that's been in love with her all along."
"Really, Noah?"
He looked over and saw the pout starting to form. That pout had been the undoing of many of his more outrageously stupid schemes in high school. That pout had also been the catalyst for him sending in his application to NYU even though he thought for sure that he would be rejected. She knew he would do anything for her when she did the pout and so with a sigh, he threw the DVD back in with the others and pushed the bag away.
"Fine, put that thing away. Now what?"
"We could talk. We haven't done that in awhile."
Puck nodded his head slowly. "Okay, then. I have a question for you."
"Alright. Go ahead."
"What's going on with you lately? You never drink that much because you know you're kind of a midget. You really don't have much of a liquor tolerance. And you haven't been eating much lately. I heard Quinn and Blaine talking about. So what's going on with you?"
She sighed and closed her eyes, resting it against the wall behind them. "If I told you nothing, would you believe me?"
"Honestly?" she nodded. "No, I wouldn't because I see that something is wrong with you. I want to help you. But I just don't know how. "
Rachel opened her eyes and met Puck's gaze. "Noah," she started. She could see the concern and worry in his eyes. "Things have just been a little stressful lately and I don't really know what's going on with me, honestly."
"It's because of me, isn't it?" Puck saw the look of panic that crossed her face at that and hurried to clarify. "I mean, about what you said at the club about me not being around lately. If it is because of that, I'm so sorry, Rach. I would never want to hurt you. You know that, right?"
He reached a tentative hand towards her face. Being around her this long was starting to wear down on his self control. All he wanted to do was touch her. And as his hand cupped her cheek, he found that she wasn't opposed to the idea. She even leaned into the touch and held his hands with hers.
"Then why, Noah? Is there something I did to make you avoid me?"
"Rach, it isn't you. I swear. You're perfect. I'm just all screwed up right now. I'll be okay."
"Remember what I told you this morning?"
"That you shot those guys in the balls with a stun gun?"
"After that."
"…. That you would never turn your back on me. That'd you be there for me like I'm going to be there for you."
"Let me in, Noah."
Puck swallowed. "I can't, Rach. Because if I tell you what's going on then everything changes and I lose you. I can't lose you." He let go of her and lowered his head finding the floor patterns his fingers were tracing to be infinitely more interesting than this conversation.
He felt Rachel's smaller fingers tilting his head upwards so that he was once again looking her in the eye. "Noah, I could never walk way from you. Ever. Nothing you could ever say would make me."
He opened his mouth to protest but suddenly closed it. The atmosphere in the room had changed. It almost seemed electric, like the air around them was humming. He noticed that his head was moving towards Rachel's. He also noticed that her head appeared to be drawn towards his as well. Before he could even think about what that mean, his brain was shutting down and something warm, soft and smooth was pressing against his lips. He could taste the coffee she drank that morning as they sat there, barely moving with lips touching.
It didn't take long for instinct and experience to take over and cause one of them to grow impatient with their current positioning. They shifted so Rachel was straddling his legs. He pressed soft kisses on the corners of her lips, and then down her cheeks and her neck. His hands brushed against her sides before resting on her hips and pulling her closer to him. A low moan escaped her lips before she pushed Puck's head upwards to meet her lips once again. This time their kiss was anything but chaste. It was all tongue and teeth. Rachel parted her lips giving him full access to the insides of her mouth. Their tongues danced together as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pushed him back so that he was practically pinned against the wall of their tiny prison. He broke apart from the kiss to continue exploring her neck.
A deep part of him wondered if this was a fantasy, some of sort of dream he had created to help him deal with the loneliness and depression that had come from ignoring Rachel. But as he felt her hands slipping underneath his t-shirt, brushing against his stomach he suddenly didn't care. He didn't care if this was real or not because this was the best damn fantasy he had in awhile. And nothing was going to ruin this, nothing. Not even the doors being forced open… wait, the doors?
"You know this is actually getting to be really boring now," Blaine sighed as he interrupted Quinn. The blonde had been muttering under her breath all morning about getting to the bottom of the Sam/Santana relationship once and for all. The more that Quinn grew obsessed with this whole thing, the more Blaine wanted to just pull away and leave the whole thing alone. He got the feeling that there was something going on here that went deeper than what they were seeing. He got the feeling that if they shared what they were thinking then Brittany wasn't going to be the only one hurt.
"I mean Puck and Sam treat Santana like their sister! Who has sex with their sister?"
"You know they're not like really siblings, right? And didn't Santana and Puck used to have sex like all the freaking time?" Blaine asked.
"But it's still just wrong!" Quinn protested. "Santana is just using Sam! Again!"
So she's jealous of Santana, Blaine thought. Interesting but not terribly surprising. What was surprising was the relationship between Sam and Santana. He wasn't surprised that they were together so much as shocked that no one had to lock them in a closet to get them understand that they were so obviously in love with each other.
The more they got into this, the guiltier Blaine started to feel. He didn't want to see any of his friends really hurt and that was how this was all going to play out. Santana and Sam would be miserable because they would be exposed, Quinn would be alone when she clearly had a thing for Sam again and Brittany would be heartbroken that everyone knew but her. And he didn't want to think about a sad Brittany. It was like kicking a puppy. When did his life become a really melodramatic soap opera? It was like a telenova without the distracting other language to make you forget that nothing you were seeing made any sense.
Seriously he was done with all this. He was just going to tell Quinn to do this on her own. Then he was going to hole up with Puck or Rachel until this whole thing blew over. With the exception of their trip to the ER and Rachel's bar dancing antics the previous night, they both seemed to be relatively well adjusted… well this month anyway. Maybe he should just do that. Wait, what was Quinn saying?
"What?"
"I said that if Santana wants us to get proof, then we'll get proof! We're storming their headquarters!"
"Headquarters?"
"Sam's room."
Blaine's eyes widened as he followed Quinn upstairs. "You really want to go in there? Are you kidding me? I know that I kind of came up with this whole thing in the first place but I think it's getting completely out of hand. Come on, Quinn, things go in Sam's room but they don't come out. It's not just the pits of hell because of the closet!"
"Listen you're either with me or you're against me. Which is it?"
Blaine blinked. He remembered the zeal (read batshit crazy) that had been fueling the girl during her quest to become prom queen in junior year. That had nothing on the level of full on crazy she was displaying at the moment. He swallowed and motioned for her to keep moving with his head. Quinn's eyes lit up as she spotted the closed closet door.
"Perfect."
Blaine shuddered at the look. He watched as Quinn tried to pry open the doors but they were as stuck as they were the first time they had gone through this madness. He stood back and watched as Quinn continued to struggle with the doors. He was contemplating pulling his phone out to take pictures when she finally managed to wrench them open. The doors crashed open and both Blaine and Quinn were very surprised to see a very red and flustered Puck and Rachel standing on opposite sides of the closet staring at them in shock.
"What re you two doing in there?" Blaine asked, stepping forward.
Rachel held up what he could only assume was supposed to be a stuffed bunny and muttered something that sounded like 'Mr. Wubbies'. Puck was just standing there. Finally, he lifted a hand to his lips. He glanced at Rachel before rushing out the room. Rachel closed her eyes in defeat and sighed.
"Rachel, whatever just happened between you and Puck in closet, fix it," Quinn ordered, already searching for some sort of clue that Santana and Sam were together and hiding it. Rachel just stood there with hurt doe eyes. She reminded Blaine of a kicked puppy too. He patted his friend on the arm sympathetically.
"Just go after him, Rach. He looked really upset."
"No kidding," Rachel laughed dryly. "But you're right. I need to talk to him. I need to tell him everything once and for all." She was out the room before Blaine could comment on that.
"What's going on with those two?" he wondered aloud to Quinn. "Why were they in the closet?"
"Who knows, who cares, look what I just found!" Quinn held up the stash of DVDs. Blaine blinked. "Come on! This is proof."
"Proof of what? That Sam is secretly a little girl at heart? We all knew that, Q."
"True," Quinn chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Her eyes darkened as she looked around the room. Blaine watched as the crazy glimmer that had been there since they started this portion of their adventure was dying out as a sad understanding replaced it. "You know how Santana has a really horrible relationship with her parents?"
Blaine nodded. That was an understatement. Of all the New York gleeks, Rachel and Kurt were the ones with the healthiest relationships with their parents. It was just another reason why they were all so close to one another. Still he couldn't understand where she was going with this one.
"Santana has this thing. It's almost like she's nesting. When she gets comfortable somewhere with someone then she starts leaving her things there. I think it's because with her parents she was always being shuffled here and there and she never had anywhere stable. So she just set up home wherever she could. She always thinks people are is going to leave her. So when she's really with someone, she leaves pieces of herself all around so that people know she's there. Even after she's gone. When I moved in with Puck, I kept finding things that belonged to her all over his room even after they broke up."
"So what's your point?"
Quinn didn't answer and really she didn't have to. Blaine looked down to see a shirt that was clearly several sizes smaller than Sam would wear on the floor. There was also the dresser that was half full with the usual products that Sam used but also had scents and lotions that were clearly Santana's. All over the room were signs of Santana. It was also she had put a part of her personality in his room and left it there for the world to see.
Quinn smiled as the awareness and understanding showed on his face. "So, does this constitute as proof?"
"I'm thinking yeah."
"Noah, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing, Rachel?"
Rachel put her hands on her hips and watched him warily. "Well, it looks like you're packing. But since we have at least a month until school starts again, that's a bit premature, isn't it?"
"I have to go. I can't be here. I can't do this anymore," Puck muttered. He went into his closet and started pulling out clothing haphazardly. "I just need to get away. I'll come back I just can't be here anymore. I can't do this."
"Do what?" Rachel asked, trying to be heard over the uncharacteristic rambling that he was doing. He didn't slow down his frantic packing motions and he showed no signs that he even heard her much less that he was going to reply. "Noah, what is it that you can't do anymore?"
"This," he yelled, gesturing wildly between them. "I can't do this thing between you and me right now."
Rachel felt tears well in her eyes. He was leaving because of her? But didn't he just say he would always be there for her?
"Noah, why can't you be around me anymore? Is this because of what happened in the closet?" Rachel rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. Of course this was about what happened in the closet. She had practically molested the poor man in there. And damn if she didn't want to do it again. Kissing Noah Puckerman was an addiction she could fully get behind. It was also an addiction she wanted all to herself.
"Noah, I'm really sorry. It's just that I couldn't help myself! You were sitting there and you were being all sweet and, and vulnerable! And then you used the eyes! No person with even minimal control over their mental and emotional faculties can resist those eyes. And it's just getting so hard to not tell you that I more than care about you. That I love you. And then we're stuck in the closet after you were….."
"Wait," Puck stopped packing and looked at her. Rachel was a little taken aback by the lost look in his eyes. "What did you just say?"
She sighed. There was no coming back from this. She had to tell him if she was going to salvage this thing with Puck. Maybe he wouldn't love her back but maybe she could learn to live with that too. "I love you, Noah Puckerman. Not just as a friend, but as so much more."
Whatever reaction Rachel was expecting from Puck, it was definitely not the one she received. Puck snorted and shook his head, resuming his packing. "Which one of them put you up to this?"
"Huh?"
"Sam or Santana? Which one of them told you to say this? They both know how I feel about you. Sam knew that I wanted to leave. So which one of them put you up to this?"
Rachel's jaw dropped. "How you feel about me?" she jumped in front of him blocking his movements towards the closet. "Noah, I'm not lying to you. No one put me up to this. I'm here telling you that I love you and I mean that from the bottom of my heart."
"Then why would you tell me that it was all an accident?" he asked quietly.
"I thought you were avoiding me because I told you that I loved you. So I told you that it was a mistake and that it would never happen again. But I didn't mean that."
"I was only avoiding you because I was scared that you didn't feel the same way about me. I thought that you meant you loved me as a friend," Puck admitted, a bit sheepishly. "Not to mention I had to avoid you because it was getting increasingly harder to be around you without wanting to jump you. I think the closet was a good indication of that." He stopped trying to move around her but she noticed that look still didn't leave his eyes. "So you really love me?"
"Yes! That's only what I've been trying to tell you for the past five minutes here."
"Why? I'm not Finn, Rach. I'm not some nice guy that's going to buy you flowers and all that other crap. I'm not Jesse. I'm not taking you to musicals or even pretend that I know about musicals at all. I'm not your type of guy. So why would you love me?"
She blinked. That's it, she was so getting Santana and driving back to the city to kick Shelly's hateful ass once and for all. Pre-Shelly Puck would have never questioned that anyone loved him. He would have proudly declared that it was because he was a stud. Pre-Shelly Puck wouldn't have tried to runaway. Post-Shelly Puck was a shadow compared to how he used to be but Rachel was confident that she'd get him back. Right after she convinced him that she was completely and totally head over heels in love with him.
"I love you because you're not Finn and you're not Jesse. You're you. I love you because you're amazing. You're so much more talented and intelligent than you ever give yourself credit for. I love you for the fact that you know who I am and you still choose to be around me despite that."
"Because of that," he corrected with a small smile. "I choose to be around you because I know who you really are." Puck cocked his head to the side. "So you really….?"
"Yes, and you really love me?"
"I do. I really wanted to tell you but I just couldn't. That's why I started to avoid you even though that just made things worse because all I wanted to do was be around you and I couldn't. And I was miserable thinking that you didn't love me ….."
Rachel rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, effectively ending the unusual amount of word vomit. At first Puck remained motionless but soon relaxed into the kiss. His arms wound around her waist as hers slid around his neck. She pulled away only a little so that she could see his face. "Now do you believe me?"
"Mmm hmm," he murmured with his eyes still closed and moved in once again. Rachel met the kiss happily. Now life was perfect. She was kissing Puck and he was kissing her back. She loved him and he loved her back. Everything was as it should be. Maybe she wouldn't kill Santana and Sam for leaving her at the club. Wait…
"You said Sam and Santana both know how you feel?"
Puck shrugged. "I told Sam but I assume he told Santana. You know how they are. Why?"
"I think we've been set up," Rachel grinned. "I told Santana how I felt about you like three days ago."
"And I told Sam how I felt about you like you three days ago," recognition filled Puck's eyes. "It was all a set up. The club, the closet, all of it was just part of the plan." He sat down on the bed deep in thought. Rachel stood in front of him watching as Puck put all the pieces together mentally. That was the great thing about his and Santana's relationship. Instant enlightenment into the mind of a weirdo. "That explains all the horribly bad romantic comedies too. I knew they had a theme!"
"But some of those didn't apply to us at all."
Puck smiled up at her and for a minute she forgot about everything. But then he was talking again. "They're geniuses. I can't believe they tried to pull this off without me!"
"I'm so confused."
"You and I were a small part of this plan. Hell, my guess is if Sam hadn't blabbed about what I told him to Santana, we would still be avoiding each other today. No, Santana's plan was more focused than this. She had an ulterior motive and was just using us as a cover."
Rachel opened her mouth to reply but couldn't find the words. Finally she settled for, "huh?"
But Puck was too busy pulling out his phone to acknowledge her confusion. He dialed a number quickly before putting the phone to his ear. She could hear someone on the other line pick up but she couldn't make out the voice. She couldn't even tell if the person was male or female. "I can't believe you two tried this without me!" he paused. "Yes, I figured it out. Yes, Rachel and I are together. Does Santana know she was part of this little experiment too? Where are you?" his eyes widened. "Get your ass over here ASAP. And bring your partner in crime with you."
Rachel was beyond hopelessly confused by this point. But as Puck disconnected the phone and looked up at her, she suddenly found herself caring a lot less. "Who was that?"
"That," he whispered, pulling her towards him, "was the real mastermind behind this whole plot. Santana is good but she's not good enough to pull something this epic off. But don't worry about it for now. We have time to deal with that later. Right now, I think you and I were in the middle of something, no?"
A smile pulled at her lips as she pushed him down on the bed. "I think we were right about here." And all thoughts of anyone outside of the two of them flew away as they made up for lost time and stupid misunderstandings. For the first time in days, everything was finally perfect.
*And finally Puckleberry is together. And yet the story isn't done? Who is this mysterious mastermind? And who is their partner in crime? And what was the real purpose behind Operation:Endgame? You shall find out on Saturday (hopefully) in the last (sniff) chapter of Operation: Endgame unless I decide to put an epilogue or something. Ciao for now.
