Cadenza

By: RavenHeart101

Summary: Summer camp is something that Puck always dreaded. When he accidentally signs up for a football and music camp he's stuck sharing a room with the one person everyone else seems to hate. The gay kid from Marion Middle School.

Disclaimer: I am gladly NOT Ryan Murphy. I am not Jon McLaughlin.

Warnings: Slash (male/male), swears, homophobia, mature themes, gay bashing/bullying, parental issues, sexual situations, sex, substance abuse on minors, smoking with minors, ect.

A thanks to everyone that reviewed.

A:N – Fuck college I'm gonna go join the circus. Are there still readers…?

This Chapter: Lily comes down with a weird sickness that Quinn thinks she knows all too well, Puck moves in for phase two and three, and the custody case heats up when Marissa starts to dig into not only Blaine's past with his father, but to his past with his friends. Specifically his past with one boy with a mohawk.

"Lily?" Rachel banged her fist against the door, an annoyed huff passing through her lips as there was no answer to be heard from the inside. "Lily! Some people need to use the bathroom too!" She crossed her arms, the fluffy pink bathrobe scrunching up on her arms.

"Honestly Rachel?" Quinn asked from her perch on her bed, her legs crossed and a delicate eyebrow raised in question at the other girl. "She's in there throwing up. Go use Mercedes' shower like I did and try to be a decent human being." She looked back down at the book in her lap and Rachel rolled her eyes at her.

"What do you think is wrong with her?" Rachel asked primly, sitting herself down on the end of the bed and tapping Quinn's book in persistence when she received no answer. "What if she's sick?" Rachel suddenly sat up straight, a hand quickly flying to cover her mouth. "I can't catch it! Not this close to competition season!"

Quinn gave her a blank stare, mentally counting down the days until competition and, yes, Rachel was being an over done drama queen once more. "Better beg for a new room, then." Quinn quipped, her voice rich with sarcasm.

Only Rachel's eyes widened and she nodded frantically before gathering up her things and bolting from the room. Sometimes Quinn wasn't sure if the girl was purposely dramatic, or if it was just the way she was created. Or perhaps it was all because of her doting fathers. She didn't know, she didn't want to know. She sighed and turned back to her book, ignoring the sound of retching that flowed into the room from the bathroom, wincing every once in a while.

And then it was silent save for running water and Lily was slowly pushing open the door and stumbling out of the bathroom and over to her own bed, collapsing onto it and catching her breath. Her face was pale and Quinn frowned at the way she had her hands placed over her stomach as though she were unconsciously protecting something. "You okay, Lily?" She asked dryly and nonchalantly. She wanted to not care. But, try as she might, Quinn couldn't quite shake the nice girl persona that had crept into her bitch one. So now she was what one might call a nice bitch? Or she was trying anyway. She'd see how well that worked out as time passed.

Lily made a vague, noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, turning over in her bed so that her back was to Quinn, her orange hair fanning down her back. "Just sick." She muttered.

"Just sick?" Quinn snapped shut her book. "You've been 'just sick' for the past three weeks. You're not just sick."

Lily's shoulders suddenly started shaking and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Quinn was taken aback by the reaction, standing tense and squaring her shoulders. "I missed my period." Lily sobbed out. And then Quinn got it and she was across the room in a matter of seconds, pulling Lily into a tight hug and patting down her hair.

"Missing your period doesn't… it doesn't mean anything."

"It does. It does." Lily repeated, crying into her shoulder and holding onto her tightly and Quinn knew it did. She knew she wasn't the best at comforting people. She knew this was scary. And so she just held her tighter and felt a panic seize her lungs because this had happened to her. And seeing it constantly happen to those that it hadn't been expected of was a tad too close to home.

Blaine grumbled as he stomped through the brush of the woods, his shoes breaking twigs and ripping leaves along the way. He held the note Puck had left tacked up to his door in a ball in his hand. He had opened it and reread it more than he had thought was possible in the past half an hour. The sky was dark overhead, the sun having disappeared long ago and all of the campers – that were not him and were left under the charge of Wes and Danielle, thank God – were off having a scary story night. Blaine wrapped his arms tighter around himself, the night chill seeping into his skin more than he had anticipated. He wished he had thought to bring a jacket.

And he wished that Puck had left him more specific instructions besides "Walk to the lake".

He almost tripped over a stray branch, stumbling and catching himself on the bark of a tree, his fingers running over the rough pattern and his thumb nail gravitating up towards his teeth. In all honesty, Blaine wasn't even sure why he was going along with Puck's little "phases". He had jumped through hoops for Puck, tripped and fell and for the briefest time, but the most amazing time, he had flown. Was he really going to put himself through this again? This whole thing?

He sighed and clenched his fists tighter, glancing behind himself at the trail that he had wandered down from. He could just turn around, sit in his cabin, and forget all about the note Puck had given him. Maybe ask Kurt out for coffee the next day. Give that a try.

But that was pointless, wasn't it? Because as much as Blaine hated to admit it everyone was simply second rate to the asshole that Noah Puckerman was. And that thought pissed him off more than it should.

He looked back down the path he was going, the lake a sparkling picture under the moon. It was beautiful. He could give second chances right? Or, rather, he could give second chances on second chances, on second chances. Or, at least, he thought so. Damn it, sometimes Blaine really hated the way he was. Sometimes he really hated his own personality.

Blaine heaved a deep breath and kept walking, his eyes drawn to the sand and the precarious flickering that was painting its way across the brown specks. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes before slowly moving them forwards, his breath catching at what was laid out in front of him. A blanket was laid out across the sand, a dark green with a pile of multicolored blankets resting in a corner. There were two candles standing tall in the middle, a cake smack in the middle, two plates resting at two different places. Speakers for an ipod were sitting in the sand, but the ipod that Blaine knew was Puck's was laying on the blanket, connected by a wire but nothing was playing.

And, Puck, well he was lying on the left of the blanket, his arms crossed under his head and his eyes staring up at the twinkling stars. Blaine was always amazed at the fact that there were stars here.

He felt his heart pick up speed and he forced it back down and swallowed, clearing his throat to draw Puck's attention to him. Puck jumped, his head snapping to face him before a smile started to spread across his face. He pushed himself to his feet, whipping off is hands and walking over to Blaine, excitement clear in his eyes. "You came." He said breathlessly, his eyes floating over his face as though it had the answers to everything.

"It was either this or scary story time." Blaine shrugged as though there was any real choice. "I hate scary stories."

"I know." Puck smiled at him and Blaine tried to push away the way his heart jumped in his chest at the fact that Puck had remembered such an inconsequential thing. "We tried to watch The Ring at my house that one time. You were so scared you tried to hide under a blanket." Blaine looked away, ignoring the ping in his chest, ignoring the smile that that memory begged to have brought back. He ignored all of it. Until he couldn't anymore. Because there he was, flying. Again. And it was always such a short, exhilarating flight and it always hurt so much when he crashed and sometimes when he crashed it hurt too much. But that flight. It always left him wanting more. It was like a drug. No, that's exactly what it was. It was a drug. Noah Puckerman was a drug and Blaine wanted nothing more than to quit him but he was addicted.

Blaine cleared his throat and gestured towards the blanket. "So… what's this?"

Puck shook himself out of whatever trance he had been put under, bringing Blaine forward with a hand resting on the middle of his back, higher up than Puck tended to put his hand and Blaine wasn't sure if that bothered him or not. Not yet anyway. "Desert. A night picnic." He wrung his hands together as Blaine lowered himself down onto the blanket. "It's too much, isn't it?" He laughed sardonically after Blaine sat in silence for longer than usual.

And if it were anyone else Blaine would have reassured him that it was not, in fact, too much. But, rather, was perfect in all the ways that it was everything that Blaine wanted. Random romantic gestures. It's what killed him as a romantic. "It's certainly… not what I expected from you." He laughed nervously as Puck sat down across from him.

"Is that a good thing?" Puck asked with a soft edge to his voice that Blaine hadn't heard in years.

He blinked, watching as Puck looked up at him through his eyelashes. "I don't know yet." He was taken aback by the honesty of his own answer, swallowing as Puck smiled and cut into the cake, holding out a piece like it was a peace offering.

"Chocolate cheesecake. You're fav-"

"Favorite." It was almost as though Blaine couldn't cease being amazed this night. If there was anything Blaine had expected Puck to remember they weren't these tiny, inconsequential details about him.

He slowly took the plate, and they ate in almost near silence, Puck leaning over to turn on his ipod and after they finished he offered Blaine his hand. "Care for a dance?"

Blaine stared at the offered hand as though it was diseased. Or as though he was going to wake up anytime soon. "Is this for real?" He asked slowly.

"Yeah." Puck licked his lips and wiggled his hand, as though begging for it to be taken into his own. And Blaine was shocked at how much that was probably true. Puck was really putting himself out on the line here. He had never done this for someone before.

"Don't you dare make me fall." He cautioned in more than one way and Puck nodded obligingly before wrapping their fingers together. He pulled Blaine close, a soft melody playing through the speakers. His hand was warm against the small of Blaine's back, their feet shuffling to the beat. Their hands were held close to Puck's chest, a wedge between their bodies, Blaine's free hand gently lying on Puck's shoulder.

"I wouldn't dare." Puck smiled at him, speaking in a soft voice. "You're in my arms, and all the world is calm. The music playing on for only two."

Blaine was momentarily taken aback by the sound of Puck's voice softly singing into his ear. He steadily felt his body begin to relax. "So close was waiting, waiting here with you." Blaine felt himself physically start to melt. He hated that Puck had this effect on him, and yet he loved it at the same time. "So close to reaching that famous happy end, and almost believing that this one's not pretend."

Against his better judgment Blaine allowed himself to be pulled closer, his eyes fluttering shut and his head falling against Puck's shoulder. It was a relaxation he hadn't known was possible before now. Before he had even been with Puck. He felt it reach down through his bones and hold him close, refusing to let go. He felt those cracks in his heart start to heal. His mind start to forgive. Even though he knew it shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't. "Oh how could I face, the faceless days, if I should lose you now? We're so close. To reaching that famous happy end." Blaine felt an ache through his body. "Let's go on believing even though we know we are… so close." Their eyes met and both were pained even though Blaine couldn't tell anyone why Puck's were. "So close." He glanced down at his lips and now would be the opportune time for them to kiss, correct? So why wasn't Puck taking that chance? "And still… so far."

Puck's breath brushed over his lips, and Blaine's eyes fluttered shut again. He waited for Puck to make that move, to lean forward and cover them with his own. He waited for the fireworks that were bound to explode like always. He waited and he got nothing but breath over his lips and then Puck pulling back slowly but surely. Blaine blinked open his eyes. "I want to." Puck whispered, staring at him. "But I want you to want to."

"I do want to." Blaine narrowed his eyes in confusion and blinked at Puck.

"You want to because the moment's right." Puck corrected, as though it hurt him to say the words. "Not because you want to kiss me."

Puck moved to turn away but Blaine stopped him, tugging him back and holding onto his hand firmly. "Can we just… keep… doing what we were doing?" He asked unsure of himself, unsure of the question, unsure of the reason why he was even asking.

Puck paused before smiling that wide smile of his. Dimples, crinkles at the corner of his eyes. "Of course." And he wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist again and when Blaine's head fell against his shoulder he merely rested his own on top of it. And it was relaxing and maybe they both cried a little but for Blaine that was because he had wanted something like this for so long. And for Puck it was because he felt at home and he felt as though he were finally doing something right. In the end, they were happy tears.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Mister Anderson?" His father's lawyer asked him as he sat across from him and Greyson, his briefcase in front of him full of notes upon notes. Their father stood in the far corner, looking out the window as though it held all of the answers.

"Blaine." He supplied for what seemed like the twentieth time. There were only so many Anderson's in the room, it would do the lawyer good to call them by their first names to distinguish between them. "But yes. I think so, anyway." Greyson's hand squeezed his knee under the table before his arm went back to resting over his shoulder protectively. Greyson had been doing that a lot lately. Well, Greyson was always protective; it was just more obvious now than it had been before.

The lawyer nodded. "The first order of business is that I have to ask you not to be in any relations with anyone during this period of time."

Blaine blinked at him, sharing a look with Greyson and his father's ever stiffening back. "Relations?"

The lawyer blushed and swallowed. "Uh… yes. Relations. Relationships. With anyone."

"By anyone you mean any boy, correct?" Greyson supplied the question they all wanted to ask and the lawyer flushed and tugged at his collar.

"Uh… yes. Precisely."

"Dad." Greyson called for their father's attention with a warning tone and Nathan spun to look at them.

"Surely, Blaine being in a relationship won't affect the case in anyway." He spoke in that professional way he tended to whenever he was speaking to someone higher up in society. It wasn't as though he spoke down to people on a regular basis, it was more a tone of voice that he would use that others would not.

"Actually…" The lawyer sighed and Blaine wasn't entirely sure how he felt about any of this. He played with his watch where it rested on his wrist, spinning it in circles as a nervous tick. "Marissa Hughes is bringing in his previous relationship with a teenage delinquent."

"Previous relationship?" His father looked surprised.

"Relationship?" Greyson looked indignant.

"Delinquent?" And Blaine was a bit insulted on Noah's behalf. When had he exactly become Noah again?

The lawyer looked between the group of them, unsure of who to answer first, if at all. He shuffled through his brief case before pulling out a file, flopping it down on the table in front of them. "Mrs. Hughes is bringing up the fact that had you been more involved in his life, not only would you have known about the existence of said relationship, but you would have put an end to it."

"Whoa now." Greyson looked at them with imploring eyes. "I might not be overly fond of the guy for what he put Blaine through but that does not mean that we have any right to put an end to any relationship he may or may not be in."

"It would just be a lot easier for the case if he was not in a relationship at all."

"I'm not in a relationship." Blaine reassured the nervous looking man. "But that doesn't mean that I'm going to put off getting into one just because it would make my mother comfortable."

Nathan rested a hand on his shoulder and grabbed the file when it was offered to him. He didn't move to look at it, though. "I am just informing you, Misters Anderson." The lawyer spoke once more as he stood up and grabbed hold of his brief case to leave. "Marissa Hughes is going to be prepared to have her lawyers ask you about this boy."

He left promptly and Blaine sighed, leaning forward in his chair and resting his head against the cold surface of the table.

And, yet, for some reason the fact that his mother was going to be dredging up his past with Noah Puckerman did not scare him in the way it would have just a few days before.

Next Chapter: Blaine, Quinn, and Lily visit the clinic, Danielle and Santana grow closer, Marissa has a few words to Noah, and Noah takes a leap of faith.