Author's Note: ...s'been a while. Since it's summer, I'm making it a goal to finish this baby. I am working and I have other things to focus on, but I'm going to try and start updating regularly again. This chapter might be a little disjointed since the first little bit was written months ago and then I went back and rewrote parts...But it's just setting things in motion. Enjoy.
7. the cold sweat of guilt
When he gets home hours later, the house is dark. Everybody's probably asleep. His Ma should be at work right now, but knowing her, she's taken off indefinitely until her Noah is better. He makes a mental note to tell her to stop. She needs to stop worrying about how fucked up his head is and make enough cash to pay for Sarah's books (kid's a genius; got full tuition) and to keep herself on her feet. She's so good about taking care of other people that sometimes she forgets to take care of herself.
He slips inside quietly, making sure to lock the door and turn the porch light off behind him. As he creeps into the living room for a glass of milk before bed, he notices that Finn's not on the couch tonight. He's probably crashing at his mom's place. Puck drinks a few gulps of milk straight from the carton before replacing it in the fridge. He goes through the motions, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat at the door before heading upstairs. Before ducking into his own room, he pauses to poke his head into Sarah's room. At the back of his mind, he's been worrying about her all night.
Her bedroom walls are all purple and there's still a Leonardo DiCaprio poster on the walls from her pre-teen obsession days. She's in bed, though. Alone. Which is a relief. Puck closes the door softly and then stops at his mother's door. It's open, and there's actually a light on in there. That's unusual, but not entirely surprising. His Ma used to sit up waiting for him to get home when he was a teenager (and she wasn't working late at the hospital). "Nice to see you, Noah," she murmurs, taking off her glasses and setting her book aside.
For his part, Puck looks slightly ashamed. "Sorry I'm so late, Ma. I was just…"
She waves him off and rolls over. "Santana told me." Of course she did. Puck shakes his head. "Turn off the light when you go?"
He does, but hesitates a little in the doorway. After a couple seconds, he takes a couple quick strides into the room and leans down to kiss his Ma on the forehead. "Love you." She just smiles, mumbles that she loves him, too, and tells him to go to bed. He does so without complaint. Puck always was kind of a momma's boy.
His own room is dark. That's doesn't surprise him. It is pretty late. He does his best to undress quietly, though he trips over one of his baseball trophies and swears under his breath in the process. He throws his clothes in the hamper and sinks down on the bed carefully. He doesn't want to accidentally sit on her or wake her up. Santana's cranky when people wake her up. This bed is really too small for him, and when he tries to cram in here with a girl it's nearly impossible. It's pretty roomy, tonight, though. And cold.
She isn't there.
Finn's phone rings. He goes to answer it, and Puck fixes him with an eyeroll and mouths 'whipped' across the room at him. Finn looks torn for all but a second before letting it ring, eyebrows raising. They go back to their game. "I'm still gonna kick your ass," Puck says, choosing Mario, as usual. Finn goes straight for Yoshi. They're set to race on Rainbow Road when Puck's cell phone rings, blaring out Katy Perry's Peacock. "San set it," he mumbles by way of explanation, leaning over to read the screen while the game begins.
It's Santana's name flashing on the screen. Finn guesses this and smirks, taking the lead right off the gate. "And you say I'm whipped…" Puck wavers for a split second before letting it ring. If it's really important she'll call again. She doesn't, and Puck beats Finn five out of seven times.
Later, as Finn's on the phone telling Rachel he'll be home soon, Puck checks his own messages. He's got two text messages from Mike Chang, one from Artie, and three from Brittany. The first one is asking for sex, and the next is an apology because she got his number mixed up with Artie's. And then the third is an invitation for a threesome, 'but only if San says it's okay. Actually, she can come, too.' Puck chuckles. He can't wait to tell Santana that one. She'll get a kick out of that.
He goes to check his voicemail, quickly hitting the right buttons to hear Santana's message. At first, she doesn't say anything at all. He thinks she just let the call go too long when she meant to hang up. But then he hears her long exhale and imagines that she's pushing her hair out of her face in that way she tends to do. Her voice follows, sounding a little raspy like she's sick or has been crying. Except Santana doesn't cry (much) and if she is, he feels pretty bad about ignoring her call to prove a point. "Puck, it's me. I wanted to tell you before…" Her words trail off lamely, and when she picks up again, she's changed her mind about what to say. "I can't…do this. I'm done." She hangs up, and Puck is left staring blankly at the screen. His stomach has dropped ten feet into the floorboards and his brows are furrowed.
What does she mean by done? He almost thinks she meant to tell him something else but decided against it at the last second. He wishes he could've been there, in person, to see her expressions and hear her voice. He'd always been able to tell when she was lying or hiding something from him. He'd been able to do that since they were six and she lied to him about how she'd gotten her knee all scraped up. Apparently, Azimio didn't like that she was hanging out with Noah because 'girls had cooties'.
He'd shoved Azimio into the chainlink fence on the way to school two days later.
"Dude?" He looks up, then, meeting Finn's gaze. He looks completely confused and a little concerned. "What's up?"
"I don't know," he says truthfully, snapping the phone shut and cutting off the voicemail lady's message. "I think Santana just broke up with me." Finn's eyebrows arch towards his hairline and he reaches over to pat his shoulder a little awkwardly. They're guys. They don't do this feelings crap. Neither of them talk about this tomorrow.
Puck finds Santana at her locker before school. He says nothing, but looks at her expectantly. She's prepared. She pulls a piece of paper from her bag and hands it to him. "The fuck is this?" He complains, but glances down at it anyway. It's an acceptance letter to The University of Chicago. He shrugs and hands it back to her. "So? The reunion sex on breaks will be awesome."
She shakes her head and turns away from him, working on getting her locker open. He notices that her hand is shaking. It's the same locker she's had since freshman year. It sticks a little. He used to have to open it for her, until she got the hang of it. Puck steps around her and forces it open now. Santana doesn't thank him or even really acknowledge that he's opened it. She just grabs her books as usual and closes it again, leaning back against the lockers and looking at the spot just over his left shoulder. "I know you. You won't last two weeks if I'm not there to keep an eye on you."
That stings a little. They've been together a little over three months now. That's not too long, he knows, but that's a long time for him. And he's never once gone after another girl. Well, okay, there was that one time at after-prom where everyone got shitfaced and he kissed Rachel after she made him sing this horribly off key karaoke duet, but that wasn't even his fault. He'd apologized for it a million times, to Santana and Finn. "Bullshit," he mumbles, stepping towards her. Brown eyes reluctantly flick up to meet hazel, and he holds her gaze. "I know you, too, and I can tell when you're keeping something from me. Spill."
Santana takes a breath and steels herself. This is going to hurt her almost as much as it hurts him. She doesn't know how else to get him off of her back. Putting on her best bitch-face, she shrugs and says "You're not the kind of guy someone marries, Puck. We're going to graduate and I'm going to go to college and get a good job. You'll go to college, either drop out or transfer back home, and make minimum wage. What I need as a woman is financial support, and you can't give me that." Before he has a real chance to process what she's just said, she slips past him and saunters away, flipping her hair as she goes.
When she's a safe distance down the hallway, and Brittany has latched onto her pinky as her security blanket, she tosses a glance back at him over her shoulder. He looks stunned. She doesn't miss how he punches a locker when he thinks she isn't looking or the bandages on his hand the next day.
He goes back to being McKinley's resident player. That reassures her that she's done the right thing, even if a little voice at the back of her head tells her otherwise. She goes back to her usual routine of Cheerios, Glee club, and messing around with Brittany. There's something missing, though, and it's all too obvious that the thing she's missing has a mohawk.
Santana is standing in Sheetz with a cup of coffee and cash in hand to pay for gas. Her car barely made it to Finn's place this morning, so before heading back to Puck's she made a pit stop. Finn pops up at her side holding a large, grape slushie. She scoffs. "I thought I told you to wait in the car." Sometimes, hanging out with Finn Hudson is like babysitting a child. He just shrugs and grins, tipping the slushie towards her. It has no lid, reminding her of their high school days, and it slops over the edge and hits the space between their shoes. Santana glares at him. It's not like she's wearing good shoes, but still. "Are you twelve?"
"I figured it might help Puck remember some." Her eyes soften, just slightly, but she rolls them when Finn takes a gulp from the slushie. A sheepish smile crosses his face. "Okay, I kind of wanted one. But I'll get him one, too, if you think it'll help." He sounds doubtful. Puck already remembers that part of high school, anyway. What he really thinks will help is a whole Glee club reunion. They could sing medleys of all the performances they did and maybe he'd remember something. Some of those songs were really important. He still gets a little sentimental whenever he hears Lean On Me.
Santana pays for her gas and her coffee and then makes Finn pay for his own damn slushie. He isn't twelve. Hell, he's barely a friend. She's not paying for empty calories. They get in her car and Santana takes the route to Puck's house without even really having to think about it. She knows this town like the back of her own hand. She knows the way to Puck's house like the back of hishand.
Halfway there, Finn leans across to flick the radio on. Journey starts crackling over the speakers and his eyes light up in a childlike way while he belts out half of Don't Stop Believin' and looks at her expectantly when the part Rachel usually sings with him comes on. Santana's quiet. It might've been a Finn-and-Rachel thing, but the last time she'd performed this song it'd been with Puck.
For a smile they can share the night. It goes on and on and on and on…
"You realize it's noon, right?"
"You realize I got in at three in the morning, right?" He doesn't even bother lifting his head from the pillow, rolling over and facing the wall instead. Sarah won't be put off, though. She's been dealing with his crap forever. Pushing off from the doorway, she crosses the room in a few quick strides, snatches the blanket between her fingers, and yanks it from the bed in one swift motion. Her brother groans and complains, curling into a ball and still not looking at her. Shrugging, she grabs his pillow next and promptly hits him over the head with it.
"Rise and shine, Noah." Sarah takes the comforter and pillow with her when she leaves the room, leaning her head back inside his bedroom to add "Ma made waffles." before she goes. That's what gets him to haul himself to a hunched, but still technically seated, position. Puck blinks, rubbing sleep from his eyes and moving his fingers to his forehead, trying to weed out the pesky headache that hasn't really left him since…
His train of thought derails briefly, but then he remembers. He's had an accident and Sarah and Santana and Finn are all back in Lima to try and help him get over it. Methodically, Puck pulls on a fresh pair of jeans and an old McKinley t-shirt that's almost too small now. After going to take a piss and brushing his teeth, he shuffles down the stairs and into the kitchen just in time to see Finn and Santana pull up in front of the house. Frowning, Puck heads straight for the coffee pot and pours himself a mug. He takes a swig without bothering to add cream or sugar, and winces at the bitterness. He downs another gulp, though.
Sarah arches her brows at him from behind a bowl of Lucky Charms. "Since when do you drink coffee?" He shakes his head, willing the stuff to work faster. He's still sluggish and tired, but not from having slept late. He's starting to feel the aches of his fall, the sting of the burns, the harshness of the world when not dulled by pain medication. He feels everything, and it's a lot more brutal than he remembers.
Finn swoops into the kitchen first, steals a waffle from Sarah's plate, and flops down in a vacant chair. His mouth's still half-full when he speaks. "Hey, man, feeling any better today?"
"Feel like shit," Puck responds, and Finn swallows the mouthful of waffle to blink at him.
"That's probably a good thing. Rachel always says that you can't really recover from anything without feeling it." Santana scoffs and barely enters the room, leaning against the doorframe and giving the kitchen a once over. Puck notices that she's avoiding looking at him and is probably wondering where his mother is. After a beat, she speaks.
"Still quoting The Hobbit, Hudson?"
"She's not a Hobbit!"
Ignoring his two best friends' arguing, Puck turns to rinse out his mug. When he's done, he heads for the door. Instead of leaving, he stops right in front of Santana so that they're almost touching. He's looking down at her, standing with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. His jaw is set, though. Santana automatically tips her chin up in defiance.
They stare at each other for a second. It's quiet, except for Finn biting into a piece of toast.
She breaks first. "What?"
"Why'd you break up with me?"
"Probably because your only income was cleaning pools."
Puck shakes his head adamantly. "No, I mean that last time. Senior year."
Shit. He remembers.
