A.N.: Hey guys! As always, thanks for the lovely reviews I got for the last chapter. This time, I'm trying something different by using Puck's POV for this chapter. I just wanted to try it out, see if I'd be able to write his voice properly. This is still a Rachel-centric story, but depending on the response I get with this chapter, I might insert Puck's POV from time to time. I'm not entirely sure about this, so if this effort is an epic fail, then I apologize in advance. Oh, and reviews = sunshine and happiness and general love.
Disclaimer: (I really need to remember to put this in every chapter). Nope, still don't own Glee. If I did, what would I be doing writing fanfiction in the first place?
Jigsaw Pieces
Chapter Seven
Puck knows he's totally breaking the rules of studism (he's almost pretty sure that's a real word. If not, then props to him for inventing it) right now, but dude—Matt and Mike starting/grinning at him all day is creeping him out, and he has no problem admitting it. So he corners them both after football practice and asks them something as politely as he possibly can.
"Rutherford. Chang. What the fuck is the deal with the stalker vibes I'm getting from you two today?"
They keep those identical grins on their faces, and seriously, what is up with these two? "You'd better spit it out before I go all Fight Club on your asses," he snaps when they don't reply.
They don't even have the decency to look scared. Damn.
"You wouldn't do that," Mike says cheerfully, so cheerfully that Puck suddenly feels the urge to knock the cheerful right off his face.
"And why the hell not?"
"Because," Matt explains with a grin, and when did Rutherford find the guts to not even pretend to be threatened by him? He didn't really talk much—it always looked like a cat had gotten Matt's tongue or some weird saying like that. "Rachel wouldn't like it if you beat us up. She hates fighting."
And suddenly, Puck's reminded why he's actually thankful that Matt didn't say much. Dude could sprout some pretty messed up, crazy shit when he did. Like now.
"Rachel. As in Rachel Berry?" he says in disbelief. "What does she have to do with this?"
"Aren't you guys back together?" Matt asks with a raised eyebrow. "You two were pretty cozy during the party."
"Yeah," Mike chimes in. "Plus, you two totally went M.I.A for the rest of the night—and I really don't wanna think about what you were doing," he adds with a fake shudder. "Seriously, Puck. I thought you broke up with her a long time ago."
"You aren't messing with her again, are you?" Matt says, more seriously this time. "Rachel might be a little…high-strung but she doesn't deserve it if you are."
Puck knows he's supposed to be thankful that these two are still talking to him instead of throwing punches at him 'cuz he knocked up his best friend's girl, but he's really, really finding it hard to be thankful right now. He's too busy trying to not to barf, because him and Berry? Way over. She might be hot and everything, but girl was crazy.
(And in case anyone asks, he dumped her, not the other way around. There's just no way he's gonna ever admit that he was dumped by a crazy midget.)
"Okay," he tells the grinning duo very, very plainly, his voice loud in the empty locker room. "First of all, don't use the word 'cozy'. Ever. Second, there's nothing up with me and Berry. She guilt tripped me into helping her look for Quinn during the party, and now my baby-mama's living at her house since she left Finn's. That's it. We done here, or do you also want to ask what brand my make-up is?"
"Actually that's not a bad idea," Mike says almost thoughtfully. "You should really change your concealer—they aren't covering your eyebags well."
Puck and Matt stare at him.
"Sister. Rope and a chair. A ton of make-up. My face." Mike shudders at the memory. "I now know more about make-up than I ever wanted to. Don't ask, dude."
Out of respect for the blow to Mike's manliness he doesn't laugh. Then the image of Chang with a face full of colored gunk enters his mind, and the plan gets shot to hell.
"Hey, Berry!"
He watches her turn around (okay, so maybe he's focusing more on how her skirt swishes when she does that) and walks until they're facing each other in the semi-crowded hallway. "Noah," she says, sounding surprised. "Was there something you needed? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this is one of the extremely rare times you've sought me out in public."
"Uh, yeah." He rubs the back of his neck and hopes he doesn't sound at all pathetic when he says, "Listen, after Glee, you need a ride home or something?"
Rachel stares at him. "Excuse me?" she says in a choked sort of voice.
"I was asking if you needed a ride home today," he repeats impatiently because is him offering really that surprising? "You've been asking for one so many times already. I figured I'd beat you to it so I don't have to hear you whining again."
Don't give him that look. He has motives.
After she recovers from her shock (she looks calm, which is annoying because other girls would probably be ripping their clothes off right now if they got an offer like this from him.) "Well, Noah, it's terribly kind of you to offer but I'm actually catching a ride with Quinn," she explains. "Since she has a car and we're now living together, it makes a whole lot more sense."
Damn.
Berry isn't good at reading people –hell, she can barely read herself—so it surprises him when she suddenly gets it. "Oh, of course. This is about Quinn, isn't it?" she suddenly says, and is it just him or does her smile look kind of sad? "You know, you can ask me about her if you want. You don't have to go with the pretense of driving me home just to get some answers."
Crap. She's practically offering him an out, but it actually makes him feel kinda bad. Like something twisted in his gut or something. Weird. But he takes it anyway and asks, "So, yeah…how's she doing? At your place, I mean."
"Surprisingly well," she replies as they start walking towards the choir room. "My fathers have welcomed her with open arms, and she's been nothing but nice—or at the very least, cordial. I think the ramifications of her actions have softened her somewhat. And she knows how to cook, and despite our objections she insists on doing something for us, so our eating of take-out has diminished considerably."
"Huh," is all he replies because it sounds like Quinn's doing okay and besides, he doesn't understand half the words she's saying right now.
"We've talked quite a lot, you know," she adds, her voice quieter now. "That first night when we brought her to my house, it all came spilling out of her. She told me a great deal of things—the pressure her parents put on her, how she thought she was losing Finn, how confused she was and still is about everything."
This time, he nods his head because that conversation probably involved tears and he so does not do well with crying chicks. "But she's fine, right? I mean, does she need anything for the kid or---"
"Noah." She stops and puts a hand to his arm. "If she needs anything, I will tell you. Even if she says she doesn't want you to know."
He lets out a breath. Who thought Rachel-Queen-of-the-Complicated-Berry actually knew how to make things easier for him? "That'd be cool."
"Although," she says lightly, "It'd probably be better if you talked to her yourself. I understand that you're both on shaky ground but it wouldn't hurt to try. She doesn't bite, you know."
"That's what you think," he mutters and when she raises an eyebrow, he adds, "Nothing."
They're almost to the choir room when they hear voices coming from one of the empty classrooms. Familiar voices.
Finn and Quinn's.
"What are you doing?" Rachel hisses when he begins to watch them from the door's small window. "This is a direct invasion of their privacy."
"Shut up," he mutters and pulls her beside him so she can see too. She tries looking away, but when the conversation suddenly starts making sense, both of them listen and watch, not saying a word.
"Finn, please," Quinn is saying. "I was doing you a favor."
"How? By leaving a note to tell me you were leaving?" Finn replies angrily.
"I couldn't stay," she exclaims. "It isn't fair to you or your mom anymore."
"Well, yeah, but---why didn't you have the guts to tell me that yourself? Mom freaked when I showed her the note last week. Hell, I freaked when I couldn't find you." He's walking back and forth now, and he could be wrong, but this is probably the most mature Finn's been in awhile.
"Finn, I----"
"What if something had happened to you? To Drizzle?"
Puck rolls his eyes at Finn's stupid name for the kid, but he can feel Rachel stiffen beside him. He's about to continue listening when she pulls away and begins walking away.
Fuck, what's with her now? "Berry, wait up!" he calls as he follows her. When he catches up, she turns around to face him.
"Well," Rachel says brightly with a tight smile. "That was quite a scene, wasn't it? But still, it's wonderful, really, to see that Finn still cares for Quinn and her safety despite her mistakes. You'd think that he wouldn't care about her anymore because she wronged him severely, but he still does. It shows that—that he really is a good person. A—and you, Noah…you seem very concerned for her, and that's great as well. Quinn really is lucky to have the both of you."
The sudden cheerfulness in her voice freaks him out, because isn't the I'm-happy kind of cheer, but more like the I'm-about-ten-seconds-away-from-snapping-and-you'd-better-run-before-I-go-crazy-on-you kind.
"Berry, what----"
"You go ahead to Glee. I—I forgot something in my locker." She gives him another smile that might've fooled him if he hadn't seen her blinking so fast to stop her own tears (damn. Now even he sounds like a girl.) Rachel hurries away, leaving him standing in the hallway thinking, what the hell just happened?
Quinn really is lucky to have the both of you.
It takes him awhile (he's awesome, not Super-Thinker) but he finally gets it. Berry's always been crazy, but this time it looks like she's finally about to snap into full-on psycho. With Glee and school and her trying not to have teammates who want to put a sock in her mouth, her plate's pretty full. And now…now she's letting the ex-girlfriend of the guy she's in love with –a guy who still cares about his ex—live in her house. Which wouldn't have happened at all if he, you know, didn't knock up Quinn in the first place.
(Seriously, Jerry Springer's got nothing on this damn mess.)
It hits him like a sucker punch to the gut that no matter how much she acts like she's permanently on Vitamin D, Rachel Berry is not okay. And he might have a little something to do with that.
(The twisting in his gut gets worse and the word 'guilt' comes into his mind without warning.)
Well, shit. Leave it to Rachel Berry to stick him with a conscience that worked.
