AN: So sorry for the long wait for this next chapter. Thank you for being patient. :o) In other news, *shameless plug alert* my main multi-chapter fic "Long Time Coming" has been nominated for Best Work in Progress for the 2010 Glee Awards! I am so honored and excited to be nominated alongside some amazing writers and friends. If you should feel so inclined, I'd be grateful for your vote! You can do so over at the Glee Awards site: community . livejournal . com / gleeawards (take out spaces)! Or you can e-mail your vote to gleeawards (at) gmail . com. Thanks so much! *End shameless plug!* Thanks for reading and please review! :o)


Now that the pain is done,
No need to be afraid.
We don't have time to waste,
Just tell me that you'll stay.
"Stay
" ~ Nick Jonas and the Administration

It is the day all hell breaks loose (also known as the day Babygate flies wide open, which is also known as the day Puck loses his best friend and the chance to be a dad to his daughter all in one fell swoop).

He didn't blame Rachel for saying anything. The truth needed to be said. He wanted the truth to be said way back when Quinn first told him she was pregnant. All Rachel did was do what he had wanted to do for a long time. So, no, he didn't blame her.

He saw the look in her eyes as they passed in the hallway. It was like a magnet pulled them together. They locked eyes quickly and broke the contact just as quickly. But the message was clear. They were both trying to apologize—her for telling his secret and him for having the secret to tell in the first place. Of all people, he didn't want Rachel to be disappointed in him. And in that fleeting moment they shared, he didn't think she was mad or disappointed; she was just sorry for the way things went down. He was sorry too.

After school, Puck sat on the bed of his truck watching everyone get into their respective cars and drive away. He watched as Matt and Mike fist-bumped, Brittany and Santana linked pinkies, Kurt and Mercedes air kissed, and Tina and Artie really kissed. Huh. He totally didn't see that one coming. Where had he been? Oh, right, filled with guilt and trying to take care of Quinn behind everyone's back. Puck continued to watch as Finn brushed past Quinn and Rachel, who was helping his baby mama to her car. He'd have to thank her later for that. Rachel glanced up at that moment and saw him looking at her, and Puck averted his eyes. Suddenly, that hangnail on his thumb was much more interesting than it had been two seconds ago.

The next thing he knew, Puck felt the weight of his tailgate shift a little. He looked up to find Rachel struggling to hop up beside him. She was just tiny enough that she didn't quite have the balance to prop herself up, and watching her try made Puck chuckle.

Rachel stopped hopping and glared at him. "You know, you could help me," she pointed out.

"It's more fun this way," he smirked, hissing when the movement made his bruised eye pulsate.

"Well, it is clear that my diminutive size makes finding the leverage needed to boost myself up impossible," she droned on.

Puck rolled his eyes and hopped down to stand close to Rachel. She looked up at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. Puck didn't have the energy to decipher it so he gently grabbed Rachel by the waist and plopped her down on the tailgate and then lobbed himself back up beside her.

"There. Now you're up," he grunted.

"Thank you," she said politely.

"Welcome," he shrugged.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Puck couldn't help but wonder why she was even here. He thought for sure she'd be comforting Finn right about now. He would've made some snarky remark about it if she hadn't been the only one of his friends (Yeah, yeah, she was his friend. Shut up.) to stay with him. Besides, she might have slugged him, and even being a stud, he didn't really feel like getting punched more than once in a day.

"Oh!" Rachel piped up, as if she just realized why she was sitting there. "I brought you some pain relievers and a bottle of water." She rummaged in her bag, producing said items and placing them in Puck's calloused hands.

Puck's chest tightened involuntarily at the simple gesture. "Uh, thanks," he mumbled, taking the pills and swallowing them down with a long gulp of cold water.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Yeah," he answered noncommittally.

"Don't lie to me, Noah," she admonished gently.

Puck resisted the urge to chuckle. He never could get away with lying to her. When they were younger and they would play Go Fish, she'd leave to get more snacks and make him promise not to look at her cards. He always did, and when she came back, she would always ask him if he had peeked or not. He didn't know what it was about the look she gave him, but he could never lie after seeing it. It was like some super magic you-better-not-lie-or-I'll-be-very-disappointed-in-you look. Puck figured he'd rather tell the truth, because she was never mad that he cheated and looked at her cards. But if he'd lied about it? He shuddered to think what would've happened.

"Fine," he relented. "No, I'm not okay. But you wouldn't be either if your best friend of eleven years just pummeled your face in and basically wrote you out of his life completely," Puck spat, growing more irritated.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't be fine," Rachel agreed quietly, willing herself not to think about how she felt freshman year when her best friend basically wrote her out of his life, and while he didn't pummel her face in, he did cover them in slushies.

"Why are you here?" he blurted out.

The flash of hurt in Rachel's eyes was enough to make him regret his words immediately. He hadn't meant to sound so accusing.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, but I guess my apology is not wanted, so I'll just be leaving," she said, as she attempted to scoot down gracefully without making her short skirt ride up in the back. Her efforts were in vain, because Puck got a quick eyeful of her royal blue boy shorts. She must have felt his eyes on her because she whipped around, pinning her skirt down with her arms and glared at him, looking positively scandalized.

Puck couldn't help waggling his eyebrows at her. "Nice undies, Berry," he drawled. It was just too easy to rile her up sometimes.

Rachel huffed and crossed her arms. "You could have helped me down," she said sourly.

"You want my help up. You want my help down. Geez, Berry, make up your mind, will ya?" he winked.

Rachel's eyes narrowed. He was positively infuriating somethings, and the worst part was that he knew exactly what buttons of hers he could push to get the best responses. However, she was not going to allow him to fluster her. She steeled her shoulders and took a deep breath. Then, she looked up at him and spoke sincerely, "Noah, I truly do apologize for telling your secret. I did not thoroughly consider the repercussions of my actions."

Puck honestly didn't expect an apology from her. They were a lot alike in that sense; neither had ever been good at apologizing because neither was ever any good at admitting he or she was in the wrong.

"You gonna make me some of those kickass 'I'm sorry' cookies?" he teased, deflecting her apology.

Rachel blinked curiously. "I hadn't thought about that, but if it would make you feel better, I could bring you some Monday. After all, it is the least I can do," she said, rambling on about how she could go to the grocery store after her dance class. Puck had to stop her before she had an aneurysm from talking so fast.

"Rach, I was kidding about the cookies," he chuckled.

"Oh," she said quietly, and they were back to an awkward silence. "I best be going. I have ballet tonight," she stated.

Puck nodded and hopped down to walk her to her car. Once they were there, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked at it and then swung his gaze to her face.

"Are you really okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said.

He was lying.

She knew it.

But she nodded, got in her car, and drove off anyway. She couldn't help him if he didn't want it.


That night after ballet, Rachel took the long way home. She just needed to clear her head after all the events that had taken place today. (It had nothing to do with the fact that the long route home took her by Noah's house.) She justified her reasoning by telling herself she would just check out her old house and see if the new owners had kept up her daddy's rose bushes. She hadn't been back since they moved freshman year when Grandma Berry died and they moved into her house. Her daddy didn't feel right about selling the home he grew up in, so they just moved in, leaving their house on the pretty cul-de-sac behind. (At the time, Rachel didn't care since Noah had stopped talking to her at school; it was better to not have to see him at home too.)

As Rachel neared her old street, she noticed that Puck's truck was not in the driveway and all the lights were off in the house. She didn't know why, but she was worried for him. She hoped he wasn't out making bad decisions (of course, what decision right now could be worse than the one that involved sex and his best friend's girlfriend?). Shaking the feeling that she needed to find him, Rachel resolved to just go home. If Puck wanted to talk, she hoped he'd find her.

On her way home, her slight psychic feeling only got stronger, and Rachel instinctively pulled into Heritage Park. She didn't see Puck's truck, but for some reason, she thought he was there. She walked carefully through the surprisingly well-lit playground. 'Rachel, you are an idiot,' she silently cursed herself, 'there could be a mugger out here waiting for the prime target such as yourself.' When, she realized she wasn't looking around and being wary of her surroundings, she looked up quickly. That's when she saw him. He was slumped against the trunk of the tree that held their old fort. His eyes were closed, and he looked miserable.

Rachel quietly made her way toward Puck, her eyes taking in his defeated form and the near empty Jack Daniels bottle beside him. Something in her heart broke just then, and she bit back a sob at seeing her friend (yes, they were still friends in her eyes) so lost. As she got closer, she noticed his left arm was cut and trickling blood onto his clothes. She gasped, and Puck's eyes flew open. He tried with all his might to focus on the figure before him. He had just been thinking about Rachel Berry and how she would have never let him get this too far gone. If only he hadn't shut her out of his life. If only he hadn't been so stupid. Then, his alcohol-drenched brain processed who the figure was. Rachel. She was here.

"You're here," he breathed, slightly marveled at the fact she was actually standing in front of him.

"You're bleeding," she pointed out, squatting down beside him and inspecting his arm.

"Eh," Puck shrugged. "It doesn't hurt." (He's lying of course; it hurts like hell but he's not going to tell her that.) He gasped sharply when she pulled out a cleansing wipe from her behemoth bag and dabbed it against the gash on his arm.

"What did you do, Noah?" Rachel asked quietly.

"I tried to climb up to the old fort," he answered nonchalantly. "It didn't work."

"While intoxicated?" Rachel clarified.

"Well, I'm not really drunk now. It's wearing off, and now I just feel like crap," he groaned.

"Noah," she began to admonish him, but he cut her off with another irritated moan.

"Berry, can you just not lecture me right now?" Puck begged. "My head is already pounding. I don't need to try to decipher your big vocabulary words too."

Rachel's mouth snapped shut at his words. She wasn't going to lecture him. Well, she may have been thinking about it.

"Noah, the cut on your arm is pretty deep," she reasoned. "I think you might need stitches."

"I'm fine," he insisted, trying to push himself off the ground.

"Noah," she tried once more, her hand attempting to hold him in place.

Puck gritted his teeth and tried not to lash out at the one person who was taking the time to help him.

"Can't you just put a band-aid on it and be done with it?" he snapped exasperatedly. "I can't go to the hospital like this."

Rachel nodded even though he wasn't looking at her. She simply pulled out three large bandages from her emergency kit. She realized once she got all the dried blood off that the cut was not as deep as she previously though. Then, she took out some antibiotic ointment and rubbed some on the cut. She blew on it, knowing the ointment had a tendency to make the skin burn. Puck repressed the urge to shiver, at the feel of her warm breath on his skin or from the pain of the cut he wasn't sure. Rachel then took the bandages and placed them gently over the wound. She kept her tiny hand on his arm, Puck reached over to grab her hand in his. Their eyes locked, and Puck couldn't help but notice the way the moonlight shone delicately on Rachel's face. He wanted to tell her how pretty she was just then, but the words died in his throat when Rachel broke eye contact and nervously raked her fingers through her hair.

"Come on, Noah. I'll take you home," she said, slowly standing up and holding her hand out for him to take.

Puck chuckled, knowing she wasn't strong enough to pull him off the ground if she tried. Thankfully, he wasn't drunk enough to walk, but he was still pretty buzzed.

"I can't go home like this," he confessed quietly. "Mom will throw a fit."

Rachel considered his words, understanding how true they were. "You can stay at my house," she offered.

Puck silently took in her words. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Rachel shrugged and gave him a small smile. "My fathers are out of town," she said simply.

That didn't exactly answer his question, but he decided it was better than her revoking her offer, so he took it.

She grabbed his hand and led him to her car. His head was splitting so he allowed her to help him buckle his seatbelt, and his eyes slid shut as she drove to her house. He was halfway asleep when the car rolled to a stop.

"Noah," she called softly, patting him on the shoulder to wake him up.

"I'm up," he mumbled, then rolled his head back on the seat, causing Rachel to giggle.

"Noah," she chuckled. "Let's get you inside. You'll feel much more comfortable in a bed." Then, not even waiting for him, she got out of the car and walked up to her house.

Puck groaned as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. He trudged up the front porch and into the house before he realized he'd never been in Rachel's new house. It was bigger than the old one on his street. He was looking around dumbly, when Rachel appeared at the top of the steps holding a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Would you like to come upstairs, Noah?" she asked cheekily.

It was on the tip of Puck's tongue to turn her statement into an innuendo, but he refrained only because she had been so cool to him today. He didn't feel like screwing that up just yet.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "You could help me," he teased, echoing her words from earlier today.

"It's more fun this way," she shot his words right back at him, her eyes dancing. Puck smirked as he slowly made his way up the staircase.

"Here," she said, handing him the clothes. "These should fit. The bathroom is right there; I'll just go make the guest bed for you."

Puck nodded mutely as he turned down the hall to the bathroom. He changed as quickly as his aching body would allow him (which was actually very slowly) and then he leaned on the counter to look in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles the size of Texas underneath each socket. His head felt like a jackhammer was beating in his skull. Pulling a weary hand down the side of his face, Puck groaned. He just needed a pillow and a blanket so he could just forget this day ever happened. (The only problem was that he couldn't just forget his life was forever different now.)

"Noah? Are you okay?" Rachel called from down the hall.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he said as he opened the door and crept toward the room Rachel indicated as the guestroom.

Rachel was fluffing a pillow when Puck walked in, scratching his head resignedly.

"Here you go," she chirped as she led him to lie down on the bed and covered him with a blanket.

Puck allowed himself to sink into the pillow as he sighed contentedly. He closed his eyes, but he felt Rachel pulling on the blankets, trying to make him feel at ease. He didn't even have the energy to tell her everything was comfortable enough for him to fall asleep right then and there.

"You're always taking care of me..." he mumbled tiredly.

Rachel stopped adjusting the blankets and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Puck. He had that crooked smile on his face, and she couldn't help but smile back. Then, he chuckled, shaking the bed underneath them.

"It's kind of like that time when I had my tonsils taken out," he laughed, "and you made me a milkshake even though you swore it would affect my vocal chords."

Rachel laughed, remembering how much of a baby he was at eleven years old. It was the summer before sixth grade, and Puck had had strep throat three times in the span of several months. So the doctors took out his tonsils, and of course, he threw a big fit. But, he milked the recovery time for all it was worth.

"I remember," Rachel said, shaking her head. "You told me that if a doctor hacking away at your throat wasn't going to damage your singing voice, then a little chocolate ice cream wouldn't hurt either."

Puck sighed again, smiling at the memory. "Like I said, you always take care of me," he said again, this time more seriously.

He was looking at her now with sober eyes, and she knew what he was trying to say. She didn't know what she was supposed to say back. It wasn't a comment to say "thank you" to, and since he didn't say "thank you" to her either, she couldn't very well say "you're welcome." So, Rachel did the one thing she felt she could do. She smiled down at him and cupped her hand tenderly to his face and caressed her thumb across his cheekbone. His eyes fluttered closed as he instinctively leaned into her touch. Rachel swallowed thickly. She had to get out of the room now before she did something stupid like kiss him.

She straightened her posture but before she could move away from the bed, his arm shot out to grab her loosely by the wrist. She glanced at it, wondering if he felt the same heat she did.

"Will you stay in here tonight, Rachel?" he asked quietly. "Please?"

Rachel swallowed again, gulping audibly. "Noah, I-"

"Rachel," he interrupted. Then, he stopped. He didn't have anything else to say; there was no reason for her to stay. Just that he wanted (needed) her to stay. "Please," he whispered brokenly.

Rachel stared compassionately at the boy in front of her. Slowly, she nodded and climbed into bed, snuggling under the covers. They were both lying on their backs, shifting their weight while trying to get comfortable.

"Scoot over," she giggled, bumping his side from taking up the whole middle of the bed.

He laughed quietly and moved to one side of the bed, turning to face Rachel in the process. She smiled as she turned on her side to face him. Her hand lightly grazed his bandaged arm.

"Feel any better?" she whispered.

"Yeah. Thanks, Rach," he sighed before he drifted off to a somewhat contented sleep.


AN2: To be continued...

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