Hi, once again, thank you to everyone who is reading and enjoying, your encouragement helps to keep me ticking along.

As an aside, I've had a few P.M.s requesting that I just focus on Rachel and Quinn povs, now that both parties are awake! And, though I appreciate the desire to stick solely with those two, it isn't what I will be doing. I'm not writing the ballad of Quinn and Rachel. This story was always going to be about my favourite characters, and I have a fair few. So, sorry about that! We'll get back around to them :)

Puck is completely not down with this.

'Dude. Dude. You need to...not have a fucking melt down over this.'

The guy code, (not that there is an official one, that'd be lame and the first step on the road of growing a vagina) is that anything big and emotional that cannot be solved with two hours worth of CoD is not something that you bring to your best friend's door, regardless of how awesome the dude in question is. That shit's for your mom.

'Fucking... stop it. Man up. You're wrecking my stats.'

He feels bad for the boy, he really does. Puck's never gotten rejected as hard as Finn has, and going from engaged to completely alone in the space of a fortnight has to be a massive kick in the teeth, but the fact remains that there is zero Puck can do about the situation, and so just turning up, demanding to go multi-player, and then blubbering the entire way through is damn stupid.

Finn gets shot again, and Puck throws an empty at his head. Finn looks briefly like he is going to stand up and jump on his controller, but then just slumps back into the couch.

His goddamn bottom lip goddamn wobbles, and Puck's had it.

'Seriously. You getting dumped has turned you into a ten year old girl, huh?'

Finn pushes a hand across his face, and then flips him off wearily.

'They're only stats. You can just get Mike to pretend to be you for a while, if you're that freaked about them.'

Puck wonders whether Finn is ever going to get his point, and then stands up to yank the console out at the wall.

'We're out of beers. You coming?'

Finn is silent for the journey to the store, and so Puck just drives him to his house, and cuts the engine.

'There. Go do the decent thing, cry by yourself in your room. Come find me when you're ready to talk about all the chicks you can get friendly with, now Rachel's stopped demanding all your attention.'

That earns him a punch on the arm that Puck barely feels, but all in all pathetic aggression is better than pathetic tears.

'Don't speak about her like that!'

Puck gets why girls like Santana spend their life rolling their eyes, because that's what this situation calls for. Instead he just punches back.

'Don't speak about Rachel like she is still yours. Dude, seriously. She ended it. She doesn't want to be with you. Tried; failed. Get a fucking grip.'

Shit, he feels bad, he does, when Finn looks like he can't decide whether he wants to break Puck's face or maybe a window, but instead just scrunches his face up and starts crying. Again.

'Finn... seriously. This marriage thing. It wasn't what was supposed to happen. You guys had a good time, the end. You aren't even cut up because she's left you; you're just cut up because she left you looking like an idiot.'

'Shut up. Shut up. Just because you've never had a girl you've actually cared about.'

Bit low, but he'll let that one slide for now.

'Go cry at your mom, Finn. In case you were wondering; that isn't me.'

Finn slams the door hard enough to rock the suspension, and Puck breathes out slowly through his nose. He stays put for a bit, smoothing his hands around the steering wheel, and watches the street lighting flicker on, slowly. When he looks up at Finn's place, there's one light on near the top of the house, but no sign of life beyond that.

He's not a counsellor. He's never been good with words, and trying to find the correct combination of words for a dude who legitimately doesn't know what the hell is going on with his future ex wife girlfriend thing is totally beyond him.

Puck makes a decision.

'Mr Berry.'

The guy (Puck has a bit of a brain seizure about how to mentally refer to him without being racist, homophobic, or just stupid, settles for the Lionel Richie-ish one, not that all non- white dudes look the same) frowns at him.

'You don't have flowers do you?'

What?

'Um. No. Should I have flowers? Is that how I earn conversation time here?'

Lionel glares at him a bit, which could potentially be a bit intimidating if the guy wasn't wearing a cravat, but instead just leaves Puck feeling vaguely awkward.

'I'm presuming you mean conversation time with my daughter, rather than my husband. And no, you earn conversation time by asking her if you can have a conversation. Which you can't. She isn't in yet.'

Puck shoves his hands in his pockets, and looks up at the Berry porch light.

'Right. Well, could I wait?'

Lionel stares blankly at him for a moment, and then throws a look over his shoulder.

'Where? You could come in, but my husband is in the middle of 'Soufflé Sunday' prep, and you will probably be required to wear an apron and beat egg whites, because our mixer has just flat lined.'

Puck has very little idea what was just said. And then the other dude appears, sporting the same look Rachel does when she thinks the universe is against her (nearly always), and heaves a really big sigh of relief.

'Oh thank god. Back up biceps. In, in.'

Things have gotten weird.

He's been given a bowl of stuff that looks alot like spit, and has been told to beat it until peaks form. Which...seems unlikely. And other Berry (not Lionel) is flinging himself around the kitchen like the apocalypse is underway, while Lionel is drinking champagne and doing vocal runs in the next room.

He has a vision of being trapped here until midnight and interrogated about skin care, or whatever classy gay gents do when they aren't making food out of spit, so asks other Berry a question when his head emerges from the fridge.

'Do you know when Rachel's going to be back, Mr Berry?'

'What? Oh, soon-ish. She knows what day it is. Honey, we're out of sun-dried tomatoes, and how many times have I told you we need an emergency stash of sun-dried tomatoes in case of scenarios exactly like the one that is happening now?'

Lionel straight up glides into the kitchen, and reaches under the sink for a jar of what Puck assumes is sun-dried tomatoes, from the way other Berry jumps up and down once and then claps his hands.

'You wonderful man. Isn't he wonderful?'

Puck nods his head once and gets back to the spit.

'Yup. Awesome. Good job with the... tomatoes, Mr Berry.'

He's largely ignored, because suddenly the two of them are working in tandem getting stuff out, and into jars, and serving dishes, and they're like some kind of well oiled machine that doesn't need to check who is doing what, because they're either psychic, or have done this many time before.

'Will you be staying? We always make enough for at least one spare setting, people do seem to just turn up.'

Spit is now frothy. Puck grits his teeth, and changes beating arm.

'Staying till Rachel's here. Umm. Need to speak to her.'

'Just don't propose Noah, that'd be more than my elderly heart can take.'

Puck blinks a couple of times when his name gets said, and rests the whisk on the edge of the bowl. Before he can ask other Berry how he knows his name, other Berry clutches at his chest.

'Oh dear god...you weren't actually going to propose, were you?'

Lionel beats him to it, exploding with laughter.

'Hiram... you're far too old for him. Those days are over.'

Hiram! That was it. Feeling a bit better to have figured out at least one of their names, Puck returns to whisking.

'Aah, no, not proposing, Rachel is... way too smart for me. I just didn't think you knew my name, that's all. Threw me.'

Lionel throws him a loaded look that Puck thinks is supposed to have hidden meanings, but he's way too off balance to have a go at translating.

'Oh, we've been learning lots, ever since the nearly wedding. Anyone who is of the slightest significant and importance to Quinn Fabray, we've suddenly heard all about it.'

Puck's bowl of spit suddenly doesn't look like spit anymore, and this is good, because nearly anything is better than spit.

'Right. Well yeah... Quinn's important to me, so it makes sense that Rachel thinks I'm important to Quinn.'

The buzzer goes, and Hiram Berry yells 'Door!' at the top of his lungs, despite the fact that they are all stood in the same spot and must have all heard it the same. Lionel rolls his eyes at Puck, and god, he'd never thought he'd ever consider Rachel Berry the sane option in any scenario, but right now he's got everything crossed.

It's Quinn's mom.

It's Quinn's mom.

And this is straight-up, divine punishment for every time he's ever done anything wrong ever, because the bowl of no-longer spit has been removed from his hands, and he's been ushered into the dining room with Quinn's mom and now it would seem small talk is happening.

He misses his bowl of not-spit.

'This is a...surprise.'

Nowhere near as surprising as it is for him, but before he can formulate that into something socially acceptable (he wants to check his pits, but he fears she would pass out), Quinn's mom looks worried that she'd said something rude.

'A lovely surprise, of course. It would seem that I'm finding nothing but hidden depths, since... since I met Beth with you.'

Shit shit shit, he doesn't know how to play this game at all.

'Uh. I don't know about that. I just stopped by to have a word with Rachel, but then the mixer was broke, so I stepped up.'

Puck briefly considers flexing his guns, but then remembers the pit situation, and just ends up grinning weakly. Quinn's mom takes a really big gulp of wine, and Puck feels his leg start jiggling with nerves, reflexively.

'Well. It is lovely to get to see this side of you. Ever since... I mean, my first discussions regarding you were not, shall we say, under ideal circumstances, so to see this caring side of you is most welcome.'

He has zero, zero, idea what she is talking about except that she is referring to the fact that one time he'd gotten her daughter drunk and managed to get her panties off (it wasn't like that, okay? He's changed, anyway) and Puck really needs a Berry in here right now, because there is no way that he is going to say the right thing.

A Berry doesn't appear, though, so he's going to have to try and go it alone.

'It was... um. Quinn's always meant a lot to me. I guess I'm trying to show it in better ways, these days. She's pretty amazing.'

He's addressing the cutlery, mainly, but when he does risk a glance Mrs Fabray's eyes have gone watery, and she's blinking hard.

'That's... that's really good to hear, Noah.'

Puck doesn't even think to wonder about the second surprise use of his name this evening, because he is too busy breathing a mental sigh of relief.

The door opens, in the distance, and shit, who'd have thought there'd be a day when hearing Rachel's voice would bring on such a feeling of euphoria.

Rachel is sitting opposite him, looking part surprised, part furious.

Puck tries to indicate, with a frantic gesture of his fork when he hopes nobody is looking, that this was not his idea at all, and he is completely not okay with this either.

Rachel, with a small roll of her eyes and a waggle of her elbow, tells him that she couldn't care less whether he'd planned for the evening to wind up like this or not, it is entirely his fault that the current fiesta of awkward is happening in the Berry dining room.

That totally isn't fair, but Puck hasn't got the body language reserves to counter this, and so just pushes a mournful fork into his food, and concentrates on not drawing attention to the fact that he has no idea whether he's holding his cutlery correctly.

At some point between first course and second course, Daddy Lionel gets on his feet.

'Well, if we wouldn't mind... a toast. To Quinn's speedy recovery, and focusing on the positives that can emerge from the worst moments in life.'

Rachel murmurs to Quinn under her breath, and Puck is mainly relieved he managed to get his glass in the air without throwing the contents over everyone.

When he's calmed down, Quinn's mom is speaking, mainly to Berry dad one and two, about how grateful she is for their support, and how she hopes that a friendship, 'despite everything,' can be formed, and how delighted she is to learn that her daughter is important to so many wonderful people. At one point she tips her glass towards Puck in acknowledgement, and if it is possible, Rachel's frown doubles in response.

It's over.

Lionel Berry offers to take Quinn's mom home, and Hiram Berry is commencing 'Operation Clean Up', so Puck gets five minutes on the porch with Rachel.

First things first.

'Rachel, what's the name of your other dad? It's been doing my head in all night.'

'Leroy.'

Leroy! He wasn't far off. Not bad he thinks, before noticing Rachel is glaring at him like she's trying to figure out where she'd store his body after she's murdered him.

'Rach, what? I didn't mean to be there, stuff just happened and I couldn't figure out how to leave.'

'Oh, sure, Noah. You just randomly turned up to say hi and my dads threatened you with a shot gun until you sat down at the table, huh?'

That's sarcasm, he's getting better at spotting it.

'No, I mean, I did come to speak to you, but then, some eggs needed beating up? I don't know. Your dads are good at not letting someone leave.'

Rachel flings her hair around, and sits down on the steps.

'So this wasn't you trying to get into Mrs Fabray's good books, was it?'

Puck squints at the back of her head, perplexed, and sits down next to her.

'What? Rachel, I didn't even know she was going to be there. I mean, I guess I'm glad she was, I sort of want her to like me, what with the whole Beth situation, but that was just a fluke.'

Rachel whips around, and tries to glare at him with eyes full of tears, and shit, it is like being savaged by Bambi.

'If you...if you dare even think about trying to get back with Quinn while she is in this vulnerable condition, I will ask Santana to remove one of your testicles, and kick you really hard in the other one.'

Several things start making sense at once. Puck's first instinct is to laugh, but he has a visual of what could happen to his groin if he laughs, so instead just presses the palm of his hand to the back of Rachel's head, once.

'Shit... I'm not trying to get with Quinn. If I've learnt anything, it is that we'd tear each other apart, and I want us to get on so we can keep seeing Beth. I really did just come here to speak to you Rachel. About Finn.'

Rachel looks like she is trying to mentally change gear, and Puck presses on, trying to speak quickly in the hope he'd get some honesty out of Rachel, before she can construct too many walls.

'He's, like, broken in half, Rachel. And, I'm fairly certain that people can recover from broken hearts, given time, but I have no idea how to deal with, or speak to, a guy who doesn't know what's triggered the break up, and whether he should be hoping you'll change your mind, or start getting a grip on how to move on. And Finn doesn't know, so I don't know, so what I'm here for is for you to tell me what's going on in your head, so I can try and say some of the right things to Finn.'

Rachel draws herself up, and flexes her fingers, once.

'Puck, if you think you have any right to be privy to what is happening in my head, particularly because you have just declared your intentions to feedback to Finn, then you are entirely mistaken.'

Puck sighs, and shifts slightly, trying to find a section of porch step that isn't massively uncomfortable.

'I'm not asking because I want to know, or because I'd tell Finn. I'm asking so I know how to help out my bro, Rachel. He needs someone saying the right things to him, and he ain't got anyone because we are all pretty much in the dark.'

Rachel is silent for a long moment, and Puck shrugs.

'I can try a different line of attack if you want? Like, I dunno, are you trying to get with Quinn while she is in a vulnerable state? That'd be shitty of you, wouldn't it?'

That one does actually earn him a fist to the groin, and ouch.

Fucking... ouch.

When Puck has finished checking he's all still attached to himself, he realizes that Rachel's gone marching down to the end of the path, which is better than into the Berry house, because there's no way he'd get the confirmation he needs from her if that had happened.

Gathering himself, he slopes down the path after her.

'That was harsh of me. Sorry.'

When Rachel looks at him, the anger is gone and it is wobbly lip time again.

'Why would you even ask that, Noah?'

Puck runs a hand over the soft buzz of his hair.

'Well, like I said. I just need to know what direction to point Finn in, once he figures out how to stand up again. I just need to know you aren't going back to him, because you're stuck on someone else, not just because you got freaked out over the wedding. And, like. It's okay, Rachel. Quinn is...pretty special. I said so to her mom. You've got to be made of steel to not be a tiny bit in love with her, and you ain't made of steel Rachel. Far from it.'

Rachel makes a small noise, and rubs two sets of fingers over her eyes, blinking away tears.

'Why are you being this nice, Noah? I've... I'm the one hurting Finn.'

Puck shrugs, thinks about putting his hands in his pockets, but instead puts one arm around her shoulders, tugging her close for a half hug.

'Going soft in my old age, maybe? And, you aren't doing this on purpose, Rach. You're like, really annoying for a lot of the time, but you aren't nasty. Plus, even though I've got Finn's back no matter, I'm pretty protective of your back too, if you get me.'

Rachel squeezes back once, and then releases.

'I'm not going back to Finn, I'm... what did you say? I'm stuck on someone else. So, whatever you need to guy talk at Finn, that's the version you're looking for. Thank you for trying to take care of him.'

Puck snorts, and looks away.

'I dunno about taking care of him Rach. That's for his mom. I'm just trying to fix him sooner rather than later, so I can stop feeling like we should be talking about emotions whenever we hang out.'

Rachel hums, and glances back up at her house.

'You're a good guy Noah.'

'Yeah, well, don't spread it around. I have a rep to maintain.'

That earns him a small laugh, and thank crap, this is way too intense. Rachel looks up at him, and then begins to inspect her fingernails, in the near darkness of the street.

'Would it be terrible of me, do you think? I mean, with the accident and everything, I would want to spend all this time with her even if I wasn't feeling...but I am, so... do you think I should stop going?'

Puck cannot remember if he has ever heard Rachel Berry make this little sense. Rachel seems to notice, and takes a really deep breath.

'You aren't going to tell Finn?'

Oh.

'Of course not. He won't want to hear it, anyway.'

Rachel nods, mainly to herself, and shifts her weight from one foot to another.

'I'm stuck on her, Noah. On Quinn. From...since, I mean, I don't know how long, but I recently realized, and thought the world would think I was ridiculous, so then the wedding seemed a good idea, but then the accident happened, and... god. I'm so stuck on her. And now I'm, what was it, taking advantage of her vulnerable state, do you think?'

Puck grunts, and reaches into his pocket for his keys, because he can tell that after that confession Rachel isn't going to want him to hang around for long.

'Rachel. Quinn is, even with the broken bits, about as vulnerable as a rhino to things she doesn't want to happen. So like, if you're getting close to her, it's because she's letting you. Just saying.'

Rachel sighs once, and looks down at her feet.

'That's... thanks Noah. That's actually... thank you.'

Puck reaches out, and pats her on the head once, just because it feels appropriate.

'If you're making a decision Rachel, stick with it, yeah? I will not be impressed if you head back to Finn now.'

Rachel nods her head really hard, and looks into his eyes.

'I know. And... I'm not going to. Tell him I'm sorry.'

There. Settled. Puck nods his head once, and then turns away to his truck. He's about to close the door when Rachel calls after him.

'What?'

'She'd really love to see Beth, I think. If you could sort it.'

Puck raises a hand in acknowledgement.

'Already on it. See you.'

You see, he already was on it. He'd already spoken to Shelby, he'd already gone and bought a goddamn baby seat for his truck, he'd already double checked a million times that he had Shelby's contact number in case there was an emergency and she had to talk him through a diaper change.

But when he turns up to Quinn's room the following day, and Quinn is in a wheelchair, sitting in sunlight, and Beth throws out a hand towards her from his arms, he doesn't much feel like taking credit. Because this is enough. It's enough for him.

'Hey. Rachel thought you might want to see this little one.'

Quinn's face lights up, in a moment of such joy Puck doesn't really know what to do with himself, except deposit Beth on Quinn's knee, and draw up a chair so he can remove his kid if she gets too interested in the more damaged side of Quinn's body.

Beth calls Quinn 'Win'. It's kind of amazing.

After half an hour of just grinning, and playing with Beth, and watching Beth try to stretch her fingers out to match Quinn's, Puck notices that Quinn grimaces, slightly, when trying to readjust Beth with her one arm, and instinctively plucks her away.

'Hey. Sorry. You looked a bit tired, for a moment.'

Quinn nods, and runs a hand through her hair.

'Yeah, it's... hard. Keeping a toddler still with one arm.'

Puck nods, and stands up to re-arrange Beth in his arms, tucks her up so she's got a teddy in her hands.

Without hesitation, Beth sticks the teddy's ear into her mouth and clamps down on it, and Puck can't help but grin delightedly at Quinn.

Quinn meets his eyes and just smiles, before running a hand down her thigh.

'I can... they say I'm improving. My legs. I can feel Beth clambering all over them, and my muscles are starting to flex again. I could feel them trying to do it just then, automatically, I guess. Re-adjusting for her.'

That's...Puck can feel his chest open up in relief, like his body has just discovered an extra lung, and he reaches over to grab her hand and squeeze, once.

'Awesome. That's...really good, no? You'll be back to kicking everyone's butt again soon, right?'

Quinn gives him a half smile, and looks away.

'Hopefully. I mean, they don't know how complete the return of control will be, but it is looking good so...'

Puck's a bit confused about why Quinn isn't completely over the moon about this, and shifts Beth in his arms whilst he buys thinking time, and tries to bump the conversation back to good things.

'You think... when do they think they'll let you home?'

A shadow passes over Quinn face, and Puck is completely thrown.

'Soon, they say. I'm incredibly lucky, they keep telling me. If mom can sort out a room down stairs for me, in the next couple of days. I'll have to inject myself with anti-coagulant, but other than that I'll only need to come back in for the physical therapy sessions.'

Again, this sounds like good news, so Puck's not getting why Quinn's suddenly got all her armour back on. He nods, absently, and pets the top of Beth's head.

After a moment, Quinn smiles weakly, and stretches over to her table, where a well worn piece of paper is plucked up by slender fingers.

'I guess the rota can start to be phased out, then...'

Puck has a moment of realization, and has to stop himself from laughing at how mixed up Quinn has got this, still.

He doesn't curb his instinct to plunge right in, though.

'She'll still visit, you know. She's not, like, doing out of duty, and won't stop just because you're out of hospital. Rachel is still going to turn up.'

Quinn's face flickers, and then when she looks at him, her eyes are sharp.

'What are you... where did that come from?'

Oh, man, the self-inflicted stupidity of these two is kind of hilarious.

'Rachel. You're worried Rachel will stop visiting. Well, she won't. Not if you tell her you want her. To come. Visit, that is.'

Quinn looks at him really carefully, and Puck knows, now. He can spot when she's hiding things.

'Why are you talking about Rachel so much?'

Because you are thinking about her so much? Puck stops himself.

'Because... Rachel's done a lot of visiting. Like, you've gotten closer. Than you were. Thought you might have been worrying, that's all.'

Quinn folds the piece of paper in her hands absent-mindedly, and then opens it back up again.

'I...right. Thanks. I would like to still see Rachel, that is true.'

She's picking her words really carefully, and Puck decides to play along, because he doesn't want to ruin the day by making Quinn completely shut down.

'Cool. I'll tell her. It was her idea, you know. Bringing in Beth.'

Quinn smiles quietly, and her eyes soften in a way Puck doesn't ever remember seeing.

'Yeah? That was... she's really thoughtful. Isn't she?'

Puck nods, and moves Beth again, this time so he can grab a picture book from the bag he'd brought in.

'Yeah. She is. Anyway, thought Beth might want you to read her a story?'

Beth wiggles at her name, presses a hand to his face and yells 'Storywin!'

They've made a pretty cool kid.

Oh the way out, once he's packed all the baby bits back in the right bags, and he's figured out how to get Beth's shoes on again, Puck has a thought.

'Hey, you know I'd said I'd tell Rachel she's still to visit? Maybe you should, it'd make more sense coming from you.'

Quinn glances quickly at him again, but there's less fear there, this time.

'Yeah. Okay. I will. Thanks Puck.'

Puck scoops up Beth in one arm, and nods at Quinn.

'Anytime. Say bye to Quinn, Beth.'

After dropping Beth off ('bye Ohwa!') Puck heads for Finn's house.

He's not going to say, obviously. But he knows what direction he needs to push Finn towards, at least.