Title: It's Your Song That Sets Me Free (I Sing It While I Feel I Can't Hold On)
Category: Glee
Genre: Tragedy/Angst/Romance
Ship: Rachel/Puck
Rating: NC17/R
Warning(s): Coarse/Sexual Language, Sexual Content, Character Death, Suicidal Themes
Word Count: 9,725
Summary: Rachel Berry had no idea what events would transpire that day. How standing up for someone she didn't know would eventually lead to tragedy. And Noah Puckerman was the unfortunate boy who had to deal with the aftermath; only he had no idea how. And coping was never his strong suit.
It's Your Song That Sets Me Free (I Sing It While I Feel I Can't Hold On)
-Novel-
XI.
The shower he jumped into was so hot his skin burned. In a way, it felt good. It was like something was telling him that he was still there, that he could still feel. And yeah, it was a negative feeling, but it was something. He knew Finn was waiting right outside the door and if he even knocked a shampoo bottle off the shelf, he'd probably come barreling in and expect him to be lying in a pool of his own blood. He couldn't say he was surprised; maybe he was a little too honest about how he was feeling lately. But he didn't want to lie to them; he didn't want them to get their hopes up that he was anywhere near 'better' or 'okay' or even 'coping.' The only reason he was doing this was because Finn was his boy and some part of him still felt loyal to him; he didn't want Finn to spend his life wondering if maybe he could've done something if he'd just stepped up. But he was being honest when he said it wouldn't change things.
The shower spray beat against his face like tiny needles; when he scrubbed a hand down, wiping water from his eyes, he felt the bristles of his unshaven cheeks and chin. He reached for the shampoo, but when he found a pink bottle in his hand he just stared at it. The water sluiced down over his head while he traced the fancy writing across her organic shampoo with his thumb. His chest ached so bad he pressed a hand to it and found the chain with her ring on it. His fingers curled around it tightly, until it bit into his skin.
That morning, they'd showered together like any other day. And it'd been so fucking normal…
He didn't know how anybody could be so awake that early in the damn morning. Rachel was vibrating with energy from the top of her soaking wet head to her painted pink toes.
Grinning and rocking her hips, she squirted body wash in her hands and started rubbing them down her naked body as she sang away happily…
So, good mornin', good mornin'!
Sunbeams will soon smile through,
good mornin', my darlin', to you!
She dabbed a finger at him before twirling around under the spray of the water and washing the sudsy bubbles away.
He laughed, shaking his head at her.
She grinned widely before putting her hands on her hips and doing a little dance across the short space between them. Hands still covered in bubbles, she pressed them against his chest and spread them all around.
"I'm gonna smell like your girly soap," he said, but didn't stop her as she kneaded her fingers across his shoulders.
"Is that so bad?" She lifted up on her tip-toes and bumped his nose with hers. "You like how I smell, if I recall…"
He slid his arms around her waist and backed her up under the water again. Her wet hair stuck to her back and he dragged his fingers down it. "If I have to smell like your flowery organic shit, you have to smell like Old Spice…" He raised a brow.
She turned around, purposely letting her ass rub against him as she teasingly searched the shelves for his Old Spice bottle.
Biting down hard on his lip, he led his hands down to her hips and squeezed. "Much better way to say good morning…" he mused.
She grinned at him over her shoulder. Standing, she held his Old Spice bottle in hand. "You're just lucky I went home for awhile last night, I had time after my lesson to get a shower…" Her nose wrinkled. "If I hadn't shaved, there would none of this happening…" She motioned between them.
Taking the bottle from her, he poured some out into his hand and started lathering it into her skin. Brows furrowed, he said, "You can't shave here, why again?"
Rachel rolled her eyes, lifting her arms above her head as he rubbed her sides down. "Shaving is not sexy, Noah," she told him patiently.
He raised his brows at her, rubbing bubbly circles over her stomach. "Anything with you naked is sexy."
She pursed her lips to keep from smiling and shook her head, her dark hair clinging to her neck. "A lady has to have some secrets…"
He snorted and gave her a little slap on her butt to get her to turn around. "Babe, you're the worst secret-keeper I know…"
"Hey!" She frowned at him over her shoulder as he soaped up her back. "I can keep a secret!" At his unconvinced smirk, she said, "I haven't told anyone I spend six out of seven nights a week in your bed!"
He shook his head, rubbing her shoulders. "Doesn't count."
"Why not?"
Sighing, he grabbed out her shampoo and poured entirely too much on top of her head. While she pouted at him, he scrubbed it into her hair. "'Cause keeping secrets about yourself that could get your pretty ass in trouble…" His eyes widened at her for emphasis, "-is different than keeping others' secrets." He shrugged, twirling her back around and leaning her head back so he could wash away the shampoo, careful not to get it in her eyes.
She put her hands on his waist to keep herself steady as she leaned back. "Well... I…" She frowned for a moment, trying to think of an argument. And then, excitedly, she informed him, "I never told anybody that Mercedes lost her virginity to Matt Rutherford last summer when they happened to be vacationing near each other!"
He grinned, amused by her smug expression. "You just told me!"
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You don't count!" she explained adamantly. "I tell you everything…" She stood back up when he released her head, searching around for her conditioner now. "Even things you don't want to know!"
Finally finding it amongst the many other bottles – how did women accumulate all this shit? – he held it up to her triumphantly and then, remembering their conversation, said, "But you can't shave in front of me?"
She slapped his chest, having no other argument, and then tilted her head forward for him.
Laughing under his breath, he squeezed the bottle and started lathering it in her hair, trying not to react as her fingers traced shapes against his wet skin and she rocked her hips side to side.
"You know, now that I think about it, getting clean before we get dirty seems rather redundant," she murmured, raising a brow.
He smirked at her, fingers tangled in her slippery, soft hair.
Bending down, he caught her lips and turned them so she was pressed against the cool tile walls. She hissed against the sudden temperature change and squeezed her arms around his waist.
"It's better to leave conditioner in for awhile anyway," she said, tilting her chin up for another kiss.
Her smooth leg hiked high on his hip, he pressed deep against her until her breasts were flattened against his chest. His hands slid up her sides, pausing to scrape his fingers against her ribs where she was ticklish. She groaned into his mouth, tightening her leg around his waist. Her hands kneaded his shoulders, sliding up his neck, nails scraping before her fingers curled in the tail of his 'hawk.
He could feel how wet she was, the heat of her, so damn close. Just a little readjusting and he'd be buried deep inside her.
"Noah," she breathed, nipping at his lips.
He slid his hands under her thighs and lifted her up the wall a few inches, but just as he was about to sink home, there was a knock at the door.
Sighing under his breath, he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. "It's busy, Squirt, go eat your Shreddies!"
"It's not Sarah!"
He stilled, swiveling his head. "Ma…" He cleared his throat when it came out kind of shrill. "You're home early…"
"Yeah, and I gotta pee!"
He looked back at Rachel, who had her 'deer-in-the-headlights' look on. "Uh… Can it wait?" he asked. "I'm kinda—"
The door swung open and then closed and he could hear her hurried steps toward the toilet. "No, it really can't…" she said simply.
"Ugh, ma, seriously…" he complained, frowning. "I don't wanna hear you take a whiz…"
She scoffed. "Oh please, when you were a baby, you cried every time I left you with your daddy so I could use the bathroom…."
"Yeah, well, I grew up," he mumbled, frowning.
Rachel silently mocked, "Aww!" at him.
He glared at her amusement.
"You know, for a whole year after you were potty-trained you came and told me every time you went on your own…" his mother continued.
He groaned, shaking his head. "So not embarrassing story time!"
"I'm just saying… You never used to be so private… You used to share everything with me!"
His jaw ticked a little, trying and failing to remember a time he and his mom had ever been that close. "Grew out of that," he finally said, staring into Rachel's sad, knowing face. "Not much of a sharer."
"I think Rachel would argue that," his mom said simply.
Rachel's eyes widened in fear that his mother knew she was there.
He stared at her, not sure what to do, and finally just said, "Seriously ma, this is like the longest piss ever…"
"Watch your mouth," she chastised. "And I'm done, so you can stop complaining."
"Good." He breathed out a tiny sigh of relief. "I got glee, I'll be home after."
"I assume Rachel's coming over too."
He looked at the girl in question, chewing her lip with worry. She looked up at him and nodded her head agreeably. "Yeah… She'll be here," he answered.
"Great. I'll make meatloaf," she told him happily, making her way back to the door. "Have a good day at school!"
"Yeah, sure."
"You too, Rachel!"
Without thinking, she replied, "Thanks, Mrs. Puckerman!" Realizing her faux pas, she slapped a hand over her mouth.
He stared at her incredulously.
"See?" his mom laughed. "I knew you still shared…"
The door closed behind her.
Puck shook his head and stared at the girl in his arms, her legs still wrapped around his waist. "Seriously?"
She lifted her shoulders apologetically. "I'm sorry! My manners demand that I reply when somebody speaks to me directly…" She scowled up at him. "You should have locked the door!"
"Against what? She got home early! All we had to worry about was Sarah!"
She frowned at him. "Well, from now on, if we're in any space without our clothes on, any and all doors to that room need to be locked!" she decided.
He rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever…" His smirk slowly returned. "Now can we get back to what we were doing before she came in here and interrupted us?"
Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't honestly expect me to get back in the mood after your mother just—"
"Gimme one minute to change your mind," he interrupted, looking earnest.
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Sixty seconds," she agreed.
It only took thirty.
When he shook off the memory, the water was cooling down and Finn was knocking at the door.
"Hey, uh… You all right in there? It's been… awhile…"
"Yeah…" His voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine…"
He used all her organic shit to wash up that morning; just 'cause he wanted the smell of her to stick around awhile.
../..
The monstrous headache throbbing in his temples made school extra shitty for Puck. But whenever he mentioned to Finn he needed aspirin, the kid acted like he was asking for the whole bottle and a quiet corner to die in. He wasn't sure what pissed him off more, that Finn was on Guard-Puck detail or that he had to walk down the hall with him as he waved and nodded to everybody, enjoying his popularity like it was any other day. Half the kids that Finn was saying hi to stared at Puck like he was a science project… or Finn's charity case.
School hadn't even begun and he already wanted it to end.
When the bell rang, he was just glad to be away from Finnocence and the curious gleeks that came and went, never knowing what to say but trying to act like everything was normal.
For first and second period, he laid his head on his arms and waited for it to be over; he didn't even bother bringing his books to class. The teachers didn't say anything, the students were all scared of him, and he was in and out of a nap he desperately needed. The problem was, whenever he closed his eyes he saw her. But she wasn't reachable; like he kept walking toward her or calling her name and she'd just get farther and farther away. Before finally, he'd startle awake and people would either already be staring at him funny, or they'd start when he woke up with a shout.
He could care less if they thought he was crazy, though. He just turned his head away and stared out the window or closed his eyes and tried to wait out the bell. His stomach was tied up in knots and again he found himself wondering when he last ate. Everything before that day was a blur; he couldn't separate one day from the next. But he wasn't sure if it was hunger pains or drinking on an empty stomach that had him feeling so shitty. Worst of all, his teachers weren't letting him go to the bathroom on his own; apparently Miss. Pillsbury got it around that he should have people keeping an eye on him. And Finn was right outside the class door waiting for him before the bell even rang.
When break hit, he started for the bathroom without even a hello to his oldest friend.
He ground his teeth when Finn followed him right up to the urinal.
Rolling his eyes, he looked back, "Seriously dude, I can't take a piss alone?"
Finn shifted awkwardly, moving to stand near the sinks. "I told you…" He shrugged. "My mom wants me to keep an eye on you…"
Puck snorted. "I'm not offing myself in the john, Finn…"
"So…" He looked over at him curiously. "You know how then?"
Jaw ticking, he closed his mouth and glared at the wall, unzipping his jeans.
Finn persisted. "I mean… You've like…really planned it?"
Throwing his head back, he sighed. "Can I just piss in peace, please?"
"No."
When Puck glanced at him over his shoulder, he realized Finn really wasn't going to leave. He was gonna stand guard there for every second Puck wasn't in class.
Fuck that.
When he was done, he washed his hands and hurried out the door. The crowd of people moving from classes to their lockers to find somewhere to sit or hang with friends gave him a little coverage. Finn was quick behind him, but Puck was faster. He could hear Finn shouting his name and trying to get at him, but he cut down one hallway and then another before finally getting into the auditorium. He ran down the stairs, hopped onto the stage and was behind the curtains before Finn ever made it there, opening the door to take a quick scan, muttering, "Shit," under his breath, and continuing on.
With a snort, Puck hit the lights and sat himself down in the middle of the stage floor. He leaned back and rested his head on his arms, crossed behind him. The spotlights were bright, so much so that he couldn't help blinking against them before finally just shutting his eyes completely.
His head was still pounding; it radiated from his temples down to his neck, making his shoulders ache with tension. Briefly, he wondered how much he had left at home to drink. And then he wondered how often his dad thought that same thing.
Puck had never been much of a drinker. He loved to party but it was usually the atmosphere that got him, and a few beers suited him fine. That night at Rachel's, he'd used a few tricks he'd seen his old man work when he was just a kid, looking up to the guy like he was something worth idolizing. Eli Puckerman was an asshole; a selfish alcoholic who walked out on his family and never looked back. Puck hoped his liver gave out and he died alone and filled with regret. He hoped he never saw that good-for-nothing piece of shit again. And then he cursed him for putting all his bullshit on his son; for making Puck think he should never bet on love, just himself. For leaving him a guitar with all his empty dreams and hopes attached to it and telling him that he'd be just like him…
He hated that he'd believed it for so long too, before finally getting his act together and trying to be better… Only to turn out too much like him anyway.
With a sardonic smirk twisting his lips, he thought his ma might've gotten it right all along…
Dinner was quieter than usual. Not for the first time, Puck glanced at the empty seat next to him where Rachel usually sat; for the last four months or so anyway. She was a chatterbox and she usually kept conversation flowing. She always asked Sarah about school or her ballet lessons and then she'd get worked up and excited and spill her whole day, every single detail, to them. It was nicer than sitting around in oppressing silence, hoping his ma didn't get on him about something, whether he did it or not. When Rachel was there, she was nicer; maybe it was 'cause she was desperate for Rachel to be her daughter-in-law, maybe because it was the one thing she saw Puck doing right, he didn't know. But he kind of regretted telling Rachel she should have dinner with her dads alone, even though they invited him along. She hardly got to see them and he figured they'd want some family bonding or whatever; now he wished he'd tagged along…
His ma caught his look and then frowned at him. "Where's Rachel?" she asked, bluntly. "It's not like her to miss dinner… She's the only one who ever offers to help me with the dishes…"
He barely stopped himself before he rolled his eyes. "Home." He shrugged. "That all right with you?"
She gave him her patented 'don't start with me' glare. "You get into a fight?" Her brows rose. "Noah, you better not screw this up with that girl!" She waved her fork at him. "Girls like that aren't a dime a dozen and God knows I've had to put up with your bad taste in women in the past…" She shook her head. "I won't watch you throw away the only good thing you have left in your life!"
"Ma, she's at home…" he sighed. "She does go there sometimes…"
"Don't take that tone with me," she muttered, shaking her head. "You think I haven't been through enough with you already? All I ask is that you stick with the one nice, Jewish girl who'll give you the time of day!" She sawed away at her pot-roast angrily. "Lord knows I have no idea what that girl sees in you, but if we've been given this blessing of her then you won't ruin it."
"Gee, thanks," he muttered sarcastically.
She stared at him. "Don't you make me out to be the bad guy here! You want me to list all the reasons it doesn't make sense for a girl like that to be with a boy like you?"
He shoved his food around his plate. "Not really."
"How about the fact that you've been tomcatting around with every girl that'll have you? Married, single, even older than your mother…" She tossed her cutlery down and stared up at him with that tired look on her face. "How about your juvie record or the fact that you have a baby out there that you and that shiksa made after one stupid, thoughtless mistake!"
"Don't call her that! Beth wasn't a mistake!" he snapped, his throat burning hollow.
"You play the loving father all you want, Noah, but we both know the truth!" She shook her head, muttering disappointingly, "You're just like your father…"
"Don't!" he warned, grinding his teeth.
She went on like she didn't hear him. "No responsibility, no appreciation, no thought to anybody else but yourself! You abandoned your daughter just like your dad did us and—"
"Shut up!" he yelled, shoving up from the table and glaring her down. "I get it! You hate me! You're sick of me! You wish I wasn't you son!" His chest heaved with his quick breathing. "Telling me every day isn't going to change anything!"
She stood up to meet his anger. "You think I want to be upset with you?" Her eyes shone with tears of frustration while she waved her arms around for emphasis. "If you would just do what you were supposed to… If you'd go to school, make something of yourself! If you'd stop acting so much like him I'd—"
"You'd what?" He stared at her with wide, incredulous eyes. "Seriously? I'd really like to know! Because I can't remember a time when you didn't treat me like I was shit!" He threw his arms out. "I'm not going to be the perfect son; ever! I'm an asshole half the time and you know what? Some of that is your fault!"
She pressed a hand to her chest. "I never—!"
"Exactly! You never told me I could be better! You never stood up for me when I got into fights at school; you just assumed it was all me, all my fault. You never supported me in football or glee or anything I did… Because I'm just his son… 'Cause as long as you don't do anything and I keep fucking up, you don't have to take responsibility for the shitty son you made… Well guess what, I'm yours!" He turned to leave, shouting back. "And me and Rachel are fine, so don't start adding that to my list of fuck-ups! Maybe you can't figure out what she's doing with me, but I got it covered… 'Cause for the first time since I can even remember, I got somebody who actually cares about me… And if you think I'm throwing that out, you've crazier than I thought."
"Noah Puckerman!" she yelled after him.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm grounded… Tell it to my parole officer, Super Mom."
When he opened his eyes, he found Finn staring down at him.
"Fuck…" He shook his head. "You gotta stop doing that…" With a groan, he rolled to a seated position, dragging a hand down his face.
"I doubled back," he explained. "Saw you laying there and almost called for help. But then you moved, so…" He shrugged, taking a seat across from him. Things were awkward for a few seconds before he finally tossed a brown paper bag over to Puck. "Figure you're probably hungry; you didn't grab anything for breakfast… It's not much, just a granola bar and an apple, but…"
Puck raised a brow, but pulled out the granola bar and unwrapped it, taking a large bite out of the top. "Thanks," he said while chewing.
Finn nodded in return.
Everything was quiet for a long time, before Finn finally cleared his throat.
"So… You come here a lot?"
Puck couldn't help it, he laughed. "Are you hitting on me, dude?"
Flushing red, Finn shook his head. "What? No! I… I was just…" He rolled his eyes and reached over to punch him in the arm. "Shut up…"
Shrugging, Puck stuffed the rest of the granola bar in his mouth and then worked on getting the sticker off the side of the apple. "Me and Rach hung out here a lot… Singing, talking, whatever…"
Finn nodded thoughtfully. "First kiss I had with Rachel was on this stage," he admitted. He smiled slightly. "She dragged out all these pillows and laid 'em out for us to sit on, trying to be romantic or something, and she said…" His brows furrowed in memory. "You can kiss me if you want…" He shook his head. "So I did, but then…" He screwed up his face. "Mailman wasn't working that day."
Puck snorted. "Yeah… She told me about that…" He smirked slightly. "You ever get that shit handled?"
Finn glared at him, shifting uncomfortably.
Things fell quiet again, a little less tension-filled.
"I used to think you'd try and get her back, y'know…" Puck turned and stared at him a long moment. "When me and her started up, I figured it wouldn't be long before you were after her again." He shrugged. "And she'd fall for it, 'cause she always does, and I'd lose my chance…" He licked his lips, dropping his eyes to the apple in his hands. "Y'know, I was there that day… when you asked her to pick you instead…"
Finn went still, staring at him with wide eyes.
He smiled sarcastically. "Yeah, she didn't know either…" He took a bite of his apple and raised a brow. "On the bright side, I realized all the worrying I was doing and waiting for you to man up, it was all over…"
"Puck, I—"
"Dude… I get it…" He shook his head. "Besides, if you never tried, I wouldn't know she was done with you."
He flinched, but nodded like he got it.
And Puck remembered when he knew Rachel would never leave him for Finn…
Puck checked his watch again, brows furrowed. It wasn't like Rachel to be late; in fact, she was usually early. And since he was on time, something must've been seriously fucked up in the universe. All right, yeah, they got into a fight that morning, so maybe he should just chalk this up to her being dramatic and head home. But usually, she wanted to talk it out, and it was a stupid fight anyway. So what if he thought tofu tasted like shit? He was a red-meat kinda guy and she knew that! Still, she took it seriously and hadn't talked to him all day, so…
He started for the school even though he knew it meant she'd want to talk about the benefits of being a vegan and how sad it made her to think of those poor animals just waiting for slaughter. He stopped at the choir room first, 'cause usually when she was in a mood she took it out on Mr. Shue, bugging him about ideas for glee. When he found the room empty, he redirected to the auditorium, thinking she might want to sing out her frustration instead. Hopefully, she was in a better mood, 'cause the whole fight started over their plans for a date tonight, and he seriously wanted to go out with her rather than head home. Six months in and Puck was still surprised she was sticking around with him. Senior year was just starting and he was happy to walk down the halls with her on his arm, even if everybody else was shocked stupid that they were still going together. The only person he paid any attention to was Finn; 'cause he was probably the only jackass that might actually talk sense into her and make her see Puck was not the right dude for her.
Even his ma, who didn't like him half the time, was pro him and Rachel. But then, that was probably 'cause she thought the sun shone out of Rachel's ass and she'd make up for all of Puck fuck-ups… Still, it worked for him.
For the first time in a long time, he was happy. Like, legit happy with his life. He was going to all of his classes, even Math, and he was really trying to get his grades up. He'd need them high if he wanted any chance at NYU. If he were with anybody else, he might've thought it was too early, but with Rachel on his arm, planning for the future was like a requirement. And it wasn't just his future, but theirs… He kinda liked that. Liked that when she talked about taking over New York he was part of the picture. When she was reciting her latest Tony speech, she mentioned him. She was seriously planning to spend the next few years, if not like, her life with him… And maybe that should've scared him, but he was into it. When he was with Rachel, he felt like things fell into place; like he was worth something; like he'd get of Lima and really do something worth talking about.
He expected to hear Brad on the piano, figuring he'd probably appreciate the assist in getting her to pack up and let him get back to his life. But when he didn't hear it or her booming voice echoing in the rafters, he frowned. He decided to check it anyway; sometimes she liked to just stand in the spotlight. The auditorium was empty enough that it echoed, so when he stepped inside and saw Rachel and Finn standing on the stage together, he could hear everything they were saying without even having to try.
His heart hit the floor faster than he thought possible.
This was it.
This was the moment Rachel stared up into Finn's dopey, nice guy face and gave him another chance. The moment she realized she was wasting her time and her talent and her future on Puck.
"Rachel… He's not who you think he is! He—He's Puck!" Finn threw his hands up, staring at her pleadingly.
She peered up at him with that patient look on her face, her hands on her hips.
"I know… I know girls fall for his crap all the time, but I thought you were better than that!" He reached for her, taking her hand and squeezing. "Rach, you're special… You were always special…" He shook his head. "I don't want to see you waste that on Puck." He shook his head. "He's not the right guy for you. It—It's supposed to be me and you… I'm your leading man, remember?" He licked his lips. "Weren't we happy together? Didn't we make sense?" His brows rose in confusion. "But you and Puck? You don't… You don't work together! He's not… Listen, I've known him my whole life, but Rachel… He's not good enough for you…"
Sighing, she tugged her hand away. "You're wrong."
"I—"
"You said your peace, Finn, let me say mine," she ordered, holding her hand up to cut him off. "You think I don't know him, but I do!"
He shook his head, ready to argue.
Not letting him, she said simply, "Puck is crass. He's rude and mean and sometimes, when he thinks I won't notice, he still uses that dip stuff that tastes disgusting!" She shook her head. "H-He invented the slushee facial, he's slept with half the female population of Lima, and he's thrown more kids in dumpsters than should ever be allowed! He still swirlies Jacob Ben Israel and he uses violence to solve most of his problems. He eats red meat and—and his manners are deplorable!"
Finn was nodding now, agreeing eagerly.
"And those things aren't always attractive… They're not qualities most girls look for in a boyfriend." She shrugged. "But they're balanced out with every good thing I see in Noah."
Puck's own brows furrowed while Finn frowned in confusion.
"Noah is sweet and protective…" she told him earnestly. "He loves his little sister more than anybody and he'd do anything for a friend. He cherishes his guitar even though it was his dad's, who he's terrified of becoming, and he writes the most beautiful, most heartfelt music I've ever heard in my life…" She stared up at him searchingly. "The thing is, Finn… Is you think you're trying to save me, from Puck or myself, but I'm happy where I am…" She smiled brightly. "I'm happier than I've ever been."
"Rach…"
"And that's not anything against you, it isn't… But when I'm with Noah, I can be myself, in all of my crazy, over-dramatic glory, and he—He loves me… Not in spite of my many flaws, but including them… He listens when I rant, even when it's about things he doesn't care about! He—He wants my dreams for me! He would do anything to make sure that I got them…" She smiled brightly. "When I talk about the future, he doesn't know it, but his whole face lights up…" She laughed warmly. "He can't wait, Finn! He can't wait to be in New York with me! To live our lives together…" She sighed wistfully and pressed a hand to her heart. "When I imagine my future and I'm looking out into the crowd, it's Noah sitting in the front row… It's Noah I'm thanking in my Tony speech and Noah I practice my lines with and Noah that I fall asleep with and wake up with and Noah who I sing to and who sings to me and—and my children will have his eyes, Finn…" She laughed. "And God help me, his nose, too!" Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. "And if you think for one second that I would give that up… Maybe you're the insane one of the two of us…"
Not waiting for a response, she walked around him and grabbed up her trolley bag.
"So that's it then?" Finn called after her, shoulders slumped as he stared after her, that half-defeated, half-confused look on his face. "Me and you? We're—"
"Yes." She nodded seriously. "Because as long as I have a chance to be with Noah, I'm going to take it…" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I hope you find the right girl, Finn… I think you would make a really great boyfriend for someone." She smiled gently. "Just not me."
With that, she turned to climb the stairs.
Puck moved out of the way of the door and even down the hall and around a corner so she wouldn't know he'd overheard. His head was spinning with what he'd learned, his heart pounding in his ears.
Rachel came around the corner while he was still trying to process.
"Hey!" she greeted, grinning widely. Without waiting, she simply threw her arms around him and squeezed. "I'm sorry about our argument earlier… I should know better by now than to try and convert you…"
Mind still boggled, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tight. "Yeah, no worries…" He buried his face in her neck. "How was your day? Haven't seen you since this morning…" He wondered if she'd mention Finn, if she'd remind him that there were others willing to take his place if he screwed up like that again.
"Nothing extraordinary happened today, I'm afraid… Nothing worth adding to my biography anyway." She drew back and stared up into his face. "I missed you."
He grinned. "We were together this morning."
She nodded, fiddling with the end of his shirt. "I know…"
Stroking the small of her back with his thumbs, he nodded. "I kinda missed you too."
She smiled brightly, knowingly. "Kind of?"
"Little bit."
She pouted.
He kissed her lips and she leaned into it full-body. "Liar..." She said in between slanting kisses. "You missed me a lot."
"Maybe."
She nipped his lip and he laughed.
He lifted her right up off the floor.
She shrieked before wrapping her legs around his waist. "Noah!"
He grinned up at her, their foreheads pressed together. "We should hit up that vegan joint you wanted to check out…"
Her brows furrowed. "But I just agreed you shouldn't have to change your meal conditions… And they're having a half-off deal on the steak dinner at BreadstiX…"
He nodded. "Tofu's cheap right?"
She snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're so romantic…" she teased.
Smirking, he patted her ass before dropping her to her feet next to him. "Hell yeah I am!"
She laughed, hooking her arm with his and resting her head against his arm. "You hate tofu," she told him simply.
"Yeah."
"We can stop at McDonald's after," she reassured.
He nodded. "This compromising shit is easy…"
Rolling her eyes, she chuckled.
Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head, and sent a silent prayer up to the big guy for giving him this one break.
That happiness he'd been feeling earlier doubled, 'cause now there were no fears that it'd be taken away from him any damn second.
He looked over at Finn and shook his head. "We were fighting, y'know? Would've been so easy for her to just say she was done… Run back to you…" His jaw ticked. "But she didn't…" He swallowed tightly, staring down at the apple.
"She really loved you," Finn said quietly. "And I… I'm not just saying that…" He rested his arms against his upturned knees. "I got it after that and I backed off… I mean, it hurt… I really thought it was supposed to be me and her… But after she said all that stuff and I just… I took a step back, it was like…" He nodded. "You guys made more sense."
Puck took another bite of the apple, crunching it between his teeth and glaring out at the floor. "Wasn't supposed to be like this…" His eyes stung and he swiped his hand up and wiped away a tear. "The fuck, right?" He laughed derisively. "We were supposed to go to Nationals and own that shit… And we'd graduate and get out of here…" He shook his head. "And now it's like I can't… I can't…" His chest ached.
Hesitantly, Finn reached for him, letting a hand fall heavily on his shoulder. "Mom says sometimes when things like this happen, it's like there's a wall, y'know? Like you're trying to figure out what you should do next or where you should go or even how you feel and there's just… There's this wall in your way…" He licked his lips, sighing. "I don't know what it feels like… I mean, my dad died when I was really young and I don't remember it. And Rachel, she… She meant a lot to me, but… I think you loved her in a way I never did, you know? Like, you got all of her… And I… I hate it, but there were things I didn't like about her… Things that I would've been happier if she changed…" He shrugged. "That's not really love though, I don't think. I mean, not in the way my mom loves Burt or… or how Kurt feels about Blaine…" He frowned. "I think that kind of love, it makes it really hard to think about life without that person… And I get it, I think… I get why… I just… I don't want to lose my best friend… I don't want you to die because you couldn't see any other way…" He shook his shoulder a little. "Maybe I'm not the best person to talk to about it, but… I just want you to try, y'know? Just try to live…"
"It's not a wall…" he murmured under his breath. "It's a hole… And you guys are all reaching for somebody who already laid down."
"Puck…"
The bell rang shrilly, signaling third period.
With a sigh, Puck shoved to his feet. "I get it, Finn… Your mom plays bridge with ma on weekends and maybe she thinks she helped raise me…" He shoved his hands in his pockets. "But having you hang around me 24/7 isn't going to change things…" He backed up toward the stairs. "I know what I'm doing…" He shrugged. "Tell her thanks though, okay…?" He nodded. "She's a good woman." With that, he turned and left.
../..
When third period let out, he was escorted dutifully by a silent Finn to Miss. Pillsbury's office.
Hands clasped on the desk, she stared up at him with her big, nervous eyes.
Finn dropped a bagged lunch in his lap before he left, closing the door behind him.
Sighing, Puck dropped into the chair in front of the desk.
"So… Puck…" She pressed her hands down flat in front of her. "I want you to know this is a no-blame zone…" She shook her head, her red hair bouncing off her shoulders. "No blame, no judgment, just a place to talk… To free yourself of burden…" She stared at him wonderingly. "Are there… any burdens you might want to set free, Puck?"
In that moment, he could only think of one burden he'd like to tell to fuck off.
Her.
Instead, he raised a derisive brow.
"Okay, well…" Her shoulders slumped a little. "No pressure!" She brightened up a little. "We'll have plenty of time for you to open up and I…" She sat back in her seat a little. "I'll be here waiting for you when it happens."
He leaned back and drummed his fingers against the armrest, staring at her without blinking until she nervously started resorting everything on top of her desk.
It was a long lunch break.
../...
Fourth period was a class he used to share with her.
The seat behind his was noticeably empty.
He hesitated in the doorway, his eyes falling on it.
The last bell rang loudly and the teacher turned around to start roll call.
"Adams?"
"Here."
"Anderson?"
"Yeah."
"Bell?"
"Present."
"Ber… Uh, sorry… Chang?"
Puck flinched.
"Here," Mike answered hesitantly, glancing at Puck in the doorway.
Teeth clenched, he made his way over and sat down in his seat, shoulders hunched.
He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, his stomach twisting tight.
He didn't want to, but part of him kept waiting for her fingers to reach out and scratch down the nape of his neck, tugging the tail of his 'hawk between her knuckles. And then she'd draw shapes, mostly the infinity sign, over and over against his skin. It would tickle and his skin would warm up, acutely aware of her touch. And even while the teacher droned on and on and she studiously took notes, she would keep that one hand on his neck, sometimes falling to knead his shoulder.
That soothing touch never came and he tensely sat with his head arched back, hoping against reality that it would.
../..
Finn was quiet when he drove him home; he was brooding, holding the steering wheel too tight, taking turns too sharply, speeding.
Puck never mentioned it, but he thought it would be kind of ironic if he died on the way home, with the guy who was supposed to stop him from committing suicide as the driver.
The tires squealed when they stopped outside of his house and Puck reached for the door handle, happy to get away from his shadow.
"Should I be here tomorrow?" Finn finally asked, darting his eyes over to him. "To pick you up for school?"
He knew what he really meant.
Are you going to kill yourself tonight?
Will you be alive tomorrow?
Should I even bother?
He stared back at him, brow raised. "If you wanna drag my ass outta bed, fine… At least bring breakfast." He shut the door and walked off, not caring that Finn was smiling again, hoping again. It was probably cruel anyway. But he still had shit he needed getting done and he wasn't promising he'd be around forever, just tomorrow.
When he walked inside, Sarah was on him. She hopped off the couch and ran toward him, bouncing on the tips of her toes. "Noah! Hannah Montana is on!" she told him, pointing back at the TV eagerly. "You can sing me with me!"
He kicked his shoes off and didn't look at her. He started for the stairs, sighing under his breath.
Her little hands grabbed at his shirt, trying to stop him, instead she ended up stumbling behind him. "Mom made snacks," she told him. "PB and J and she made the good juice, not the yucky kind, and there's Goldfish too, Noah!"
He reached back and untangled her hand from his shirt. "Go watch your show, Sar…"
"But, I—I want you to come too!"
His jaw ticked. "No."
"Noah, what did I do?" she wondered sadly. "Was it 'cause I played with your guitar? I—I didn't break it! I only wanted to hear it again! You don't play no more!"
He was almost at his bedroom door and she was right at his heels.
"Noah?" She growled angrily. "You're being mean!" She punched him with her tiny fist. "If you don't stop, I'll tell Rachel when she comes back and she'll—"
"She's not coming back!" he shouted, whirling on her. "You're never gonna see her again, Sarah! She's gone!"
Sarah stared up at him from big brown eyes, her lips trembling. "How come?"
"'Cause she died! 'Cause some asshole killed her, okay?" He threw his arms out. "So she's dead and she's not coming back and she's not gonna get mad at me for not playing with you or watching your stupid Hannah Montana shit and she's not gonna sing to you anymore, all right?"
"But—But—"
"Just stop! Sarah, please!" He shook his head. "Go away already! Leave me the hell alone!"
Not waiting for her reply, he walked into his room and slammed the door behind him, dragging his feet to the bed and dropping face-down, sideways.
Distantly, he regretted that. He didn't want to hurt her, he really didn't. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't be the guy who made her feel better when all he felt was shitty. Truth was, he loved his sister. That little brat was the only thing that kept him going after his dad cut and ran. And when his ma would look at him with those dead eyes, like she was just so tired, of him and waiting for the next time he'd screw up. When he was sick of being Puck, of showing off for the assholes at school and just wanted to be himself - no pretense, no expectations - he could sit around and drink fake tea with Sarah and her damn teddy bears and he felt better about himself; about his life. He could wear a pink boa and barrettes in his 'hawk and she didn't call him a loser, didn't act like he wasn't cool enough to hang with. To Sarah, he'd always been the greatest guy alive. And when he brought Rachel home, his cool-factor skyrocketed. Here was a chick who liked to sing all her Disney songs; who baked cookies with her and wore skirts and dresses and played with make-up. She looked at Rachel and told Puck not to be mean to her, to make sure she came over always; she even fake-married them in the backyard once. She made him go out and buy cake to celebrate, but he only had enough cash on him for one cupcake, so they split it.
He knew Sarah loved Rachel. He knew it was a raw-deal for her too. That she'd lost somebody she really cared about and she didn't understand why or how or if it was forever. And he'd just made it worse. He got that. But as he laid there on his bed, all he could think was that the kid deserved better; she deserved a brother who wasn't such a screw up. But he couldn't change. He couldn't be better again. 'Cause Rachel was the reason he was a better person; she made him think it was possible. He knew that was fucked up; maybe he should be happy for himself or some other self-help bullshit. Truth was, Puck grew up thinking that the best he'd ever get was Lima. And yeah, he said different. He would have told anybody who said he was just a Lima Loser like his dad that he wasn't; he was nothing like that asshole. But in the end, when the smirk was gone and he didn't have a whole school full of people looking on expectantly, he knew the truth. Noah Puckerman wasn't getting out of Lima. He'd work at the tire store for Burt and later Finn and he'd eventually settle down with some chick he probably knocked up out of wedlock, repeating the whole Quinn disaster only this time he'd be old enough to take care of and support his kid. And he'd marry somebody he didn't love and spend his life wishing he didn't regret her. He'd grow old and lose his hair and tell stories about the good ol' days back in high school, when he king of the badasses.
And then Rachel started coming around more often and she wouldn't let him doubt himself, wouldn't let him avoid his homework or act like he didn't care. She pushed him and expected more of him and she told him he was more than what he thought, what his mom thought, what anybody thought. That if he wanted, he could do more and be more and achieve everything he wanted. So he told her he wanted his own club, he'd go to college and major in business, and he'd pick and choose the bands right on the cusp of greatness. He'd play his music and he'd rock New York on its ass. And he'd do it all with an amazing Broadway actress at his side. 'Cause he didn't just need her there, he wanted her there. It wasn't just that she believed in him when nobody else did; it wasn't just that she looked at him and didn't see Loser permanently marked on his head. It was how he felt when he was with her; how he smiled just 'cause she looked so damn cute. How excited he was for her to get all her dreams. How when she sang, he felt at rest. Content. Like nothing bad could touch him anymore. How when he fell asleep at night and she was there in his arms, everything felt right. He wasn't smothered like with other girls, he didn't have to act a certain way or tone down anything. She just loved him. Even when he was swearing or playing Super Nintendo instead of listening to her talk about some musical she watched for the umpteenth time.
So as much as he loved his sister and he didn't want her to hurt, he was tired. He didn't want to put on the big-brother mask and make it better for her. He couldn't. Not when he felt like he did and when he just couldn't see any upside to what was happening. He was going to leave her too. And she'd be hurt and confused and he didn't want her to feel that. But he couldn't live his life just because a few people might miss him. He couldn't live his life period.
Sighing, he rolled over onto his back and reached for his MP3 player, tucking the ear-buds in and turning up the volume until it smothered all other sound.
He was partial to The Smith's version, but Rachel had downloaded that hot chick from Suckerpunch onto his MP3. Her voice was really quite haunting, especially given the material, and he closed his eyes, sinking into it.
Sing me to sleep,
Sing me to sleep,
I'm tired and I…
I want to go to bed…
He had to start his letters soon.
He made a mental list of everybody who was getting one.
His ma.
Sarah.
Finn.
Kurt.
Hiram and Leroy.
Mr. Shue. Maybe one that he could read to the rest of the club.
Sing me to sleep,
Sing me to sleep…
And then leave me alone…
Don't try to wake me in the morning,
'Cause I will be gone…
Don't feel bad for me,
I want you to know…
Deep in the cell of my heart,
I will feel so glad to go…
He'd never really thought about what he'd write in a goodbye letter.
Thanks for the memories?
Sorry I was a shit friend?
Maybe something more uplifting like, Reach for your dreams or whatever.
Or maybe they'd just get it… Maybe he didn't have to say anything at all…
Sing me to sleep (sing me to sleep),
Sing me to sleep (sing me to sleep),
I don't want to wake up,
On my own anymore…
Sing to me (sing to me),
Sing to me (sing to me),
I don't want to wake up,
On my own anymore…
He thought it was pretty obvious.
Sorry I couldn't stick around, but I loved her a lot more than the rest of you…
Was that dickish?
At least it was honest.
Don't feel bad for me,
I want you to know…
Deep in the cell of my heart,
I really want to go…
In the end, he kind of hoped they realized it wasn't like, their fault. He got it. They were all reaching out, trying to tell him it could be better. Maybe if he wasn't so over it, he'd actually appreciate the effort. It was more than he'd ever seen before. It was total bullshit that it took something this big for them to realize they should step in, but hey… better late than never.
He was done though. And it didn't matter what Finn said or who escorted him to class or how many times Miss. P tried to talk to him. His mind was made up. He was even kind of happy about it. It was nice to know there was an end in sight; that all of this didn't have to go on forever. He could just stop. Stop feeling, stop moving, stop breathing. He didn't know what was on the other side. But he figured it had to be better than this.
There is another world…
There is a better world…
Well, there must be…
Mm, there must be…
There is another world…
There is a better world…
He hit repeat and settled in, letting himself drift away.
../..
He dreamed of her.
She was laughing.
And running.
Her white dress, the one she wore when he first dreamed of her, when he first got it in his head that she was hot Jew he needed to date, was bouncing around her legs as she moved. Everything else was a blur, like driving through a tunnel so quickly that it all just sort of melded together.
"Rachel!"
She turned her head over her shoulder and grinned at him, her hair dancing around her shoulders. "Noah…" she replied, but it echoed, distant and foggy, and her lips didn't move. She just kept smiling at him.
"Stop!" He ran after her but he never got any closer. "Wait for me!"
"Hurry! Noah, you have to hurry! We don't have much time!"
She turned back around and kept moving.
So he ran and he ran and he was finally catching up. He was nearly there. His hand reached out and he caught the back of her white dress and her hair… God, her soft hair, brushed against his hand.
But then something was stopping him, slowing him down. There was a hand on his shoulder, another on his arm. And he looked back and there was Finn and Mr. Shue and all the gleeks. There was Sarah staring up at him with her big brown eyes and her missing teeth. His ma was shaking her head. And they were all pulling at him, holding him back.
"Let go!" He struggled to break free. "Lemme go!"
Rachel was out of reach again, but she stopped, turning to stare at him. Her smile was gone. She was lit up from behind, glowing, her hair shining.
He tried to get free, to go to her, but they held tighter, they wouldn't let him.
"Rachel…" he breathed, staring at her pleadingly. "Come back with me… Please, I… That shit I said, I didn't mean it…"
Her face fell. "I can't stay with you forever, Noah…" She walked toward him and the arms fell away, the gleeks disappeared.
He was just standing there and she was so damn close.
Her hands touched his face, cupped his cheeks and smoothed up until her thumbs were stroking beneath his eyes. "You have to stop…" Her forehead touched his chin.
He shook his head, reaching out and grabbing her around the waist, hugging her to him. "No."
"Always so stubborn," she whispered against his shoulder. "I miss that… I miss you…"
He squeezed her tighter, gripping her dress up into his fists. "Come back."
"I can't…" He hands stroked over his shoulders. "You have to say goodbye now, Noah…"
"No, never," he told her fiercely.
"Will you dedicate Nationals to me?" She leaned back and grinned up at him. "If I can't win it for us, I should at least be there in spirit."
He glared at her. "It's not funny."
Her fingers slipped over his lips and her expression softened. "No… It's really not…"
He kissed her forehead and her cheek and the tip of her nose. "Please come back… Please?"
She sighed, hugging him closer until his head was cradled in her shoulder. Against his ear, she breathed, "You have to let go eventually."
His throat burned as he gripped her impossibly tighter. "No I don't," he rasped.
Jolting awake, he was panting, his chest heaving, sweat clinging to his skin. He stared out into the darkened room and for a second, forgot enough that he tried to reach for her next to him. The bed was empty save for her pink nightgown. His hand balled the fabric up and he dragged it to his chest, hugging it as he laid his head back down on the pillow.
"No I don't," he reiterated solemnly.
[Next: Part XII.]
