This is a little shorter than usual, but I've been struggling with this chapter for a while now, and the best way to get past it is to just post it and move on to the next.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! Your reviews are what keeps me taking time out from my annoyingly busy schedule to write this.

Chapter 10: Bruised 'Nads, Bruised Ego

Rachel was beaming giddily on her front porch, trying and failing to conceal her excitement from her new boyfriend, who was looking rather apathetic as he stood in front of her. She knew that her over-excitement and self-confidence could possibly be perceived as something threatening to Noah's masculinity, considering the fact that the past several hours had been filled with adorable little anecdotes about his childhood. He was clearly already teetering on the brink of losing his cool.

"I think it's precious that you have such a close and caring relationship with your mother," Rachel said innocently when she was sure that she had pushed his tolerance for her insinuating grin to the absolute limit. Noah glowered at her, but she didn't let it faze her. It was amazing that one simple conversation with his mother (an hours-long conversion, but a simple conversation nonetheless) could take all of the intimidation out of Noah's impressive glaring abilities. She no longer felt like he could hurt a fly, even emotionally.

"I swear to God, if you tell anyone…"

"Tell anyone what? Oh, that your mother still has the Valentine's Day poems that you've written her for the past eleven years?"

"She wasn't supposed to mention that. I told her specifically not to mention that."

"I don't understand what you're so embarrassed about. It's relieving to realize that you're actually in possession of a heart, and not just a shoddy imitation of one like I admittedly assumed was the case."

"I think you just dissed me, so, screw you," Noah said helplessly. Rachel could see that he was beginning to panic, and she thought that she understood why. Without holding the cards, Noah was impotent. He was used to being the calm, cold, mysterious jock with the ridiculous hair and the sexy grin. One evening spent chatting with his mother had sucked the mystery straight out of him, and had revealed things about him that went exactly counter to his adopted façade of rugged nonchalance. Rachel felt like singing.

"I think that this shift in the power balance was exactly what we needed. You know everything about me, Noah…"

"Because you never stop talking about yourself."

"…and I know almost nothing about you! It's hardly fair that I was expected to navigate this already complicated relationship without knowing how you were going to react to things. For example, you know you can placate me easily with compliments and presents, because already you have done that too many times to count and we've hardly been dating at all. The only thing I know about you is that you are far too juvenile for your own good, and you enjoy the thought of seeing or touching my breasts."

"Not if you talk about them like that," Noah chuckled derisively.

"Like what?"

"When you say breasts, you manage to make them sound completely unsexy."

"I'm not calling them anything crass and vulgar that you undoubtedly have in mind, so please don't try to bait me into it. It only insults my intelligence, and you know how I disapprove of your attempts to do that."

Noah laughed and shook his head, bending down slightly and pecking her on the lips. She was surprised by the move, but no less anticipatory of some kind of angle he was working or game he was playing. She knew that it was unlikely that he actually thought her endearing; she was annoying, that was a fact to many people, and although she disagreed with the assessment, she had to concede that it was so popular an opinion that she should at least regard it as an important facet of her public life.

But Noah did not seem annoyed. He seemed even frantically happy, perhaps. Giddy, almost. She wasn't exactly sure what that was about.

What that was about was Puck's total happiness to be away from his mother and Rachel and their stupid, embarrassing conversations about him. He never thought he would feel so nutless and completely turned off by anything in his entire life. He never, ever wanted to have sex again. But what was even worse about the whole situation was that he actually sort of had a decent time, at least after his mother finally stopped telling Rachel stories about him being scared of thunderstorms and wetting the bed or whatever she was saying when he was too busy groaning in agony to listen to the conversation. Because then Rachel started saying all this shit about how great Puck was, and even though some of it was complete bullshit, and even though she very obviously avoided the whole slushie thing, it still made him sound like a complete BAMF, but in a way that his mother would think was sweet.

And, well shit, that felt pretty cool, because his mother usually liked to tell him that he had no hope for a future, and he was just like his father, and he was going to disappoint her eventually, and even though it was sort of still insulting that she was surprised that someone like Rachel liked him, it was still nice that she like, believed it and shit.

Plus then his mom was in an awesome enough mood because of the clean house that she actually made them fucking lasagna, and it was really good because she put effort into it instead of just shoving a frozen dinner into the oven like she usually did. It was like, real lasagna. And it was fucking awesome. She even lit candles and shit.

So even though he would never ever admit it to anyone (seriously, he could have a gun to his head and he'd still deny it), he had sort of enjoyed his evening with his mom and Rachel, despite the fact that they were both batshit crazy and he hated the fact that they needed to talk about him like he was some poseable baby doll or whatever. He didn't think he'd ever be able to look at porn or strippers in the same way again.

"Well," he said when he realized that Rachel was starting to look like she was about to glitch and start spewing random words because she wasn't sure why he was just staring at her. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Of course," she said with a smile, leaning in just enough that it was obvious she wanted him to kiss her. So he did, and he tried to keep it as decent and un-whorish as possible, because for some reason his mind wouldn't let him treat her like a piece of meat anymore. It was probably because she had met his mother. It was probably because his mother had adored her and if she wasn't dating Puck, his mother probably would have filled out the adoption papers right then and there or something.

But of course Rachel saw right through that, because her craziness was pretty much psychic. Which was total bullshit because he was starting to realize that he was never going to be able to hide anything from her, like ever. Unlike with Santana, who pretty much needed a map to even get that Puck thought she was an idiot (although that wasn't because she was stupid, it was just because she was a self-centered bitch).

"What's wrong, Noah?" Rachel asked, pulling back and looking at him with that seriously creepy expression she got whenever she was trying to figure something out. "Did I do or say something wrong tonight? I would much prefer if you would tell me up front. That way I will be able to assess the situation accurately.

"Were you being that nice to my mom just because she's my mom, or did you really enjoy that shit?"

Rachel smiled and said, "Of course I enjoyed it, Noah! Your mother is a lovely person and I am very happy that we had the opportunity to discuss you in depth! I now find that my job of understanding you is far easier than it was previously. Although don't think that means that I don't expect just the slightest bit of help on your part."

Puck couldn't help but smile at that, even though he didn't want to. It was just really hard not to be happy for her, even though his brain was shouting: happy for her? Shut the fuck up. You're such a chick. Your 'nads are shriveling up into ovaries and you're going to start perioding soon. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

The next day at school, Rachel was glowing. There was really no other way to describe the sensation. She felt as if she was on a cloud, floating above the rest of the school. She felt secure in her belief that she was somehow more superior to them, simply because she was happy. It was nice to have a boyfriend again, even if that boyfriend wasn't her first choice of Finn Hudson, because despite being the picture beside the word 'uncouth' in the dictionary, Noah Puckerman was actually a very sweet boy when he wanted to be, and she felt accepted by his mother entirely. There was something very touching about being accepted by someone's mother, especially since people tended not to like her and the odds of two people from one family being able to tolerate her presence was nothing short of a miracle. She was, of course, not going to ask Noah if she could meet his sister, although she was looking forward to an encounter. It would be lovely if the entire Puckerman family liked her.

She strode towards her locker with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step, and she truly felt that if Quinn Fabray herself approached her at the moment and asked to be friends, Rachel would not hesitate before saying absolutely yes, because her heart was so full of laughter and lightness that she could make room even for the most unfavorable elements that had previously plagued her.

Of course, Quinn Fabray did not approach her. Karofsky approached her, and before she could say a word to him, he drew back his arm and aimed a slushie directly at her face.

The expected titters and giggles arose from the assembled students, but this was more nervous than usual because word had gotten around about how Karofsky had been suspended for something involving Rachel, and should not have been at school, and was apparently targeting Rachel, and there was something about that which made the students too uncomfortable to really enjoy. Of course, that didn't mean they would actually say something. They only watched and laughed and inwardly wondered if they should be finding it as amusing as they did.

It was only a small comfort to Rachel, who crept into the bathroom with her glowing face now a result of shame rather than euphoria. Several Cheerios giggled and openly lamented their not being present to actually witness the ordeal, and then they disappeared into the hallway to let her clean herself off.

Another small comfort.

Rachel waited until they were gone before she broke down and cried, her tears sliding down the blue gunk on her face. Fortunately, she was wearing a jacket today, and if she was very careful then she would be able to clean off her face and take off the jacket without spilling any slushie onto her shirt. Of course, the jacket would have to be thrown in the trash because it was completely ruined, but she was sure that her fathers would not mind buying another for their apparently-absent minded daughter. They would just remind her yet again to stop leaving her jackets and sweaters and gym clothes in places where they could be thrown out by the janitors (who, in Rachel's stories, had a grudge against her because she made them stay longer at school so that she could use the auditorium. Which was true, except that the janitors adored her because she brought them home-baked goods and burned them CDs of all their favorite music as a reimbursement for remaining at the school an extra hour).

After disposing of the jacket, she began scrubbing her tear-and-slushie stained face with water so hot that it burned her skin and left her feeling breathless. Breathless to the point where she couldn't even cry anymore, just stare at her reflection and gasp for air. Her lungs seemed to shrivel within her, and her gut felt as though it was being wrung by the strong hands of someone who wanted to cause her the most pain possible.

Why did things like this happen to her? Why her, of all people? Had she ever done anything willfully malicious that so offended people that they needed to humiliate her on a daily basis? Why was it that people found her so offensive? Was it her determination, her outgoing personality, her confidence? Of course, she believed in herself when high school was typically supposed to be a time of uncertainty and angst, but she had never felt the need to indulge herself in such negative attitudes. She was goal oriented by nature, and surely that wasn't something to regard as a flaw so damning that it would need to be rectified via iced drink.

She pushed her hair back, now dripping wet, and stuck her chin in the air defiantly.

They would not break her. They could try, and she had no doubts that they would try indeed, but she had to be strong. She had been strong so far, and she would continue, because it was the only thing she could do.

Puck walked into school wondering if he was supposed to go to Rachel's locker or something. He wasn't really sure how the normal boyfriend stuff worked, because he and Santana had always just met in the abandoned janitor's closet to make out or fellate or copulate or whatever they thought they had time for before class started. The awesome thing about Santana was that she didn't really care about the normal girl bullshit. At least, not until Quinn started talking about credit scores during the celibacy club meetings, and then his high school girl fix was gone. He would have his cougars, sure, in the summer, but he didn't see too much of them during the school months. No reason to have the pool cleaned over the winter or anything. Plus, to them he was just a summer fling. Some dangerous new play toy to have over when the husband was at work. Although it wasn't like he thought anything different of them.

No, normal girls were completely out of the picture for Puck, and even with this new development where he was supposed to be a legit boyfriend, it was still pretty unreal. Calling Rachel normal was completely false and also sort of hilarious. There was probably no one less normal in the world. Unless maybe you counted terrorists or those priests who touched little boys, or something.

He still couldn't decide what to do about Rachel's locker, so he figured he'd just walk past it and see if she was there. If she was, then maybe he'd do the head nod thing and see if she wanted him to come over. That way it looked like he didn't really want to be there, but then he'd go over and Rachel would be all like, what a gentleman, or whatever she'd say. Actually, she'd probably say what a gentleman because she was sort of a freak.

Yeah. That would totally work.

But when he walked past her locker, she wasn't there. So then he was like, well, where is she? She was always at her locker in the morning. He used to consider it the best time to slushie her, because it was the only time of the day when it was a sure thing. She would hang out there for at least fifteen minutes before heading to class, and it was always best to get her right at the end, right when she was turning away from her locker. That way he could make eye contact or something, and then bam, right in the face.

He felt like an ass, suddenly, even though he had pretty much avoided feeling like an ass for that despite the whole dating thing. He had apologized for it, so that should make it done and over with. Only it sort of didn't, which blew some serious chunks, because he really wasn't used to feeling guilty for shit, and he definitely didn't want to start now.

Once he got to the end of the hallway, he turned around and went back. He didn't really care if he was being creepy; he was going to keep walking up and down the hallway as long as it took for her to show up. If he was ever going to get some under-the-shirt action (and he didn't even want to get mentally started on that under the skirt action that was seriously going to need to happen soon), then he was going to need to pull out all the stops. And the whole locker thing was sort of the only way he could think of. He'd need to ask Finn about being a good boyfriend. Of course, he wasn't going to do half of the shit that Finn suggested, but sometimes Finn's stupidity could actually be sort of brilliant, when he wasn't trying.

Finally, on one of his walks back, he saw her shoving something into her locker and then slamming it closed. He approached her from the side he always used to throw slushies from, but didn't consider how that might be awkward for her at all until she flinched automatically when she saw him coming.

He pretended that he didn't notice, because it was a lot easier to get away with stupid shit when people thought you were an idiot.

"Hey, so, I was just wondering…" he started, but then he noticed that she looked really upset. And then it was like, fuck, because he was noticing all that shit about her lately and it was really fucking uncool. Really. Especially since he totally didn't want to deal with it, but at the same time his mind was going, did some prick make her upset? Does some jackass need to eat my fist? and other random things like that. And while the psycho, overprotective boyfriend thing was at least a step up from the whipped kid who let Rachel and his mom completely terrorize him for a few hours, it was still annoying because he liked his "natural apathy" even though Rachel always said that like it was the worst thing in the world.

"Hello, Noah," Rachel replied brightly, smiling up at him all crazy like she usually did, only not. Because there was something definitely different about her that he couldn't exactly figure out.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course. I'm simply running a little late today, that's all. My fathers neglected to remind me that my alarm was malfunctioning yesterday and so I did not have the opportunity to test it and then, of course, it failed to go off and I was awoken ten minutes later than usual. I don't think you'd quite understand how crucial it is for me to awake exactly on time because my schedule is regimented to the very last second…"

She kept talking, but other than grabbing certain words here and there, Puck had pretty much stopped listening altogether. No one needed to listen to that shit. Jesus fucking Christ.

And then he realized that she was talking a whole bunch because she knew he wouldn't listen and would drop the subject. And he totally was all right with that, because what the fuck was he going to do; ask her again? If she didn't want to tell him, then whatever. She could keep secrets. Shit. He didn't care. At all. It wasn't like they were really going out, not like Finn and Quinn were going out. And it wasn't like he'd care even if they were.

No, Puck didn't care about that kind of stuff.

He didn't care even a little.

Rachel was relieved when Noah finally headed off to his class, because she had pulled off her manipulation of him. She admittedly felt guilty for resorting to such unfavorable behaviors, but at the same time she saw no other alternative. She had decided not to tell him about the slushie because it seemed to her that the tension between he and the rest of the "jocks" at the school was already at an all-time high, and once word got around that he had squealed to Figgins about Karofsky because of the gleek freak, it was sure to be difficult enough without any added variables. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his concern for her. She just didn't want to see anybody get hurt as a result of them (other than Karofsky, of course).

No, she would keep Karofsky's latest attempt at meaningful retaliation to herself, and hopefully Noah would not find out from any other sources. She would have to count on the shred of nervousness that Noah still managed to inspire in the masses of McKinley High not to say anything to him, for fear of Noah forgetting the old adage, "don't shoot the messenger".

She started off down the hall with a heavy heart, her spirits lifted slightly by the fact that this probably meant that the worst was over. Once Karofsky realized that there would be no more retaliations, he would perhaps fade away into the background, or at least maybe not be so noticeable.

She was so pleased with her hypothetical outcome that she did not notice his presence in the rehearsal room until after she closed the door behind her, and then it was too late. She jumped with surprise and backed away from him instantly, her mind going into a survival mode that told her that the bottoms of the music stands were very heavy and she should take advantage of that if the need arose.

"Look, I'm just here to talk," Karofsky said innocently, spreading his hands wide. Rachel noticed that he looked nervous. Perhaps that was a result of being caught on school grounds during a suspension, or perhaps it was the fact that he'd realized that tormenting the girlfriend of Noah Puckerman was not a good idea. Either way, Rachel felt growing confidence and a sense of power that she was quite unused to. It was wonderful.

"You have a lot of nerve, David," she said haughtily, suppressing the tremors in her voice as much as she was able.

Karofsky looked surprised at the steely quality of her tone (she hoped), but he took a step closer nonetheless. She took a step back and found her back against the wall.

"I know you and Puckerman are probably planning some kind of revenge for the slushie or whatever, but don't even think about it, you got that?"

"Actually, Noah and I were planning on being the bigger people and letting well enough alone. Your juvenile antics are so tiresome. I don't think you realize that our world does not revolve around you and your petty attempts to dim my star potential with confidence-crushing ice drinks to the face."

"Whatever. Just don't do anything, all right? Because if you do, you'll be sorry."

He was even closer than he had been a few moments before, although Rachel did not remember him moving. He was almost close enough to touch her. She was not at all comfortable with that realization, but she would not allow it to show on her face. That would not do her any good.

"We'll be sorry? I'm sure you have yet another witty and oh-so-hilarious prank planned, but unfortunately for you, I have matured past the age of twelve and will probably not understand it. Really, I must again stress the fact that Noah and I are better people than you, and we have decided not to carry out these ridiculous wars any further. I would have hoped that you had learned your lesson, but alas, that seems not to be the case. Although I don't know how I could have expected anything from you."

"You know what, shut the hell up! I'm trying to warn you, and you're being a mega-bitch."

"Mega-bitch?" Rachel asked, her voice growing in volume as she shoved away from the wall and drew herself up to her tallest but still lamentably short height. "I will show you a mega-bitch, Karofsky, if only you dare to try and harm me in any way. I may seem like a very evolved and very mature young lady, and I assure you that I am, but I am not afraid to fight back anymore. Your formerly hurtful words and your attempts to make me hate everything that I am will no longer work. You are nothing, you are no one, and in a few years you will be a humorous story to tell in magazine interviews in which I will greatly exaggerate your numerous physical flaws. If you feel it necessary to insult me again, I am not afraid to hit you."

Karofsky pushed her with such sudden intensity that Rachel flew back against the wall, and he slammed his palm on the wall beside her.

"Listen to me!" he growled, far too close to Rachel's face for her personal comfort.

"No!" Rachel shouted, and she promptly stamped her foot onto his. He looked down incredulously, staring at her attempts to harm him with her dainty ballet flat while he was clad in formidable combat boots. Rachel sighed and brought her leg in the other direction so that her knee made contact with his genitalia. He stumbled backward, reaching out to grab her at the same time, and she fled from the scene, screaming as his outstretched hands grabbed hold of her shirt for a quick moment and almost pulled her back.

When she got out into the hallway, she pulled her sweater tighter around her and hurried towards her first class. Her mind was reeling, and she knew that she should go to Principal Figgins with the incident, but what proof did she have that the encounter had even occurred? And even more unfortunately, she would not put it past Karofsky to retaliate if she once again blew the figurative whistle on his increasingly frightening behaviors. No, it would be better to keep it to herself. And perhaps then Karofsky would stop fighting back.

Yes, that of course was what would happen.

Puck realized that things were going to be really fucking annoying around the time that his math teacher told him that he was supposed to be partners with Quinn Fabray. And then it got even more clear when she looked over at him with this expression that was like, basically something that Satan might use if he just stabbed Jesus in the chest with his pitchfork, or something.

Fuck.

Quinn sauntered over to him, which was sort of funny because she was pregnant, but also sort of sad because she was trying to be all sexy but she just looked like a watermelon. Her face was still hot as hell, though. So there was that.

"What up?" he asked, trying to sound all casual or whatever.

"I've had some time to think," Quinn replied, still looking all smug and crazy.

"And you decided not to be such a bitch?"

"No. I decided that you're really an unfortunate person if you are stringing Rachel along in an attempt to make me jealous."

"Well, apparently it's working, because you won't shut the fuck up about it."

"Puck, if you use language like that in front of my kid one more time…you know, apparently the fetus can, like, hear you, so just stop. And no, that's not why I'm talking to you about it. I'm talking to you about it because I can't stand the idea of my child turning out to be as horrible as you."

Puck felt the sting of those words like she had legit just slapped him or something. He shook his head at her, trying to think of the words that he wanted to use to tell her exactly how she made him feel.

"You…fuck you! You know what, I don't need this shit just because you can't handle your wine coolers and I can't handle seven beers, and you decided that Finn was perfect except for the fact that he can't stick it in you for more than three seconds without…"

"Puck!" Quinn hissed loudly, slapping her hand over his own on the desk and digging her nails into his skin in a way that was totally scary and almost a little hot, but mostly scary because he was pretty sure he was bleeding. "I don't need to remind you that I have promised already that I will be taking the secret of this baby's patronage to my grave. Whether or not you understand the seriousness of this, it doesn't matter. Because I understand it enough for the both of us. And you wonder why I think you'd make a horrible father."

"You think I'd make a horrible father because you think Finn is perfect, just like everybody else," Puck muttered.

"Yeah? That's because he is perfect, idiot. He's sweet and kind and…"

"…and a fucking moron?"

"For someone who's supposed to be his best friend, you're such a jerk to him. It's not like you're a genius, either."

"Yeah? Then how come I'm the only one who seems to notice that he's like two hits on the head away from becoming Brittany's IQ equal? Everyone else talks about him like he's our answer to Einstein or whatever, and he's an idiot! He thinks you got pregnant in a hot tub! That shit is like, middle school health class. Even I paid attention to that part in middle school health class."

"Oh, all right, Puck. Then what do you suggest, that we get together and form a relationship based in mutual dislike? Let's be real, here. The only reason we're even talking right now is because we made this mistake with our shared DNA. We didn't like each other before, and we're forced to at least attempt to be civil to each other now, but that doesn't change the fact that we're never going to have the same connection that Finn and I have. So asking me to give up what I have with Finn just because I'm pregnant and you think that you deserve a shot to make my heart race faster is just…it's stupid, Puck."

"Whatever. You're a bitch anyway."

"Well then you can stop trying to make me jealous with manhands. And, for the record, like that would even work."

"I already told you! I'm not trying to make you jealous!"

But even as he said the words, he realized something. So he definitely wasn't trying to make Quinn jealous. He knew that. But was Rachel still trying to make Finn think that she had more going on than she did? He knew from being forced to listen to Cheerio chatter on the buses to away games that the best way to make a guy want you was to be unavailable. Get a boyfriend and suddenly every guy interested in vag noticed how hot you were and wondered why he didn't get on that before. He had to admit that he hadn't even looked at Quinn twice until Finn asked her out. Then he'd been all like, why didn't I think of that?

Rachel had said that she wanted to date him so that she could get over Finn, but was it more like she wanted to get on Finn? Stupid joke aside, it seemed like it made sense. She always looked at Finn with those stupid moon eyes, and she had seemed really fucking weird at her locker earlier when she was all twitchy and nervous. Maybe she felt guilty because she met his mom?

Shit. For some reason, that made him a lot angrier than he already was.

And then he looked at Quinn and saw her looking back and he said, "I'm not trying to make you jealous."

"I heard you the first time, Puck. And I'm glad. Because even though manhands is…manhands, she still deserves better than that. Everyone deserves better than that."

She got up to go to the bathroom, and Puck stared at the spot where she used to be and wondered how the hell he was supposed to charm, fuck, or fight his way out of this one.