Author's Notes: I appreciate all those who read and reviewed, added to alerts and favorited this story. I haven't written in a while so I feel like I still have training wheels. I apologize for any grammatical errors in the first chapter, and for any in this one. I am typing these up quicker than I can edit them, and after work I'm pretty rundown. The next chapter is a bit long. Still AU (especially since tonight's episode aired, WOW), so hopefully things pull together nicely. I make Jewish references, and I hope they are obvious without being amateur. Feedback is encouraged. Enjoy.
"Shalom."
He sat.
"Shalom."
She sat.
She sat down on the women's side of the Synagogue to think. Front row, just as he had on the opposite side of the Temple. She could only see the top of his Mohawk over the Mecitzah, the curtain securely in place to separate the sexes. It was empty this time of the night. They, along with the caretaker, were the only ones present. She didn't know why she came to Temple; the sanctuary seemed to be the only place she could think of—the only place she was ever openly invited to. She visited Temple every Sunday with Daddy, whenever he was home. Alan tried to take her to his normally boisterous Baptist Church every third Sunday (when she was menstruating), but she'd come to see the Temple as her primary place of worship. She rubbed at her aching sides mindlessly, trying her best not to flinch as she un-tucked her button down shirt from her skirt. She didn't want to go back home, but she had nowhere else to go.
"Break a commandment, Berry?"
He was leaning over her, where she sat, and she instantly tensed. Jostled, she stuttered a reply.
"N-No. I just needed somewhere to think…"
"About what? Who's life you're going to annoy with your obnoxious rants?"
He sat down beside her; on the women's side.
She looked forward, ignoring him strong-willingly.
"Wonder what flavor slushie they're going to throw on you tomorrow, Berry? It's kiwi; and right after lunch…"
He was inches away from her ear.
"Not now Noah…"
The defeat in her voice nearly broke his smirk to pieces.
She sat there. Quiet. Thinking.
She had known Noah Puckerman since she was eleven years old. Well she had known of him since then. She'd be invited to his Bar Miztvah when his mother, Janice, had met her Daddy at Temple. Noah, aside from his promiscuous trysts, was an outstanding Jew. He loved his mother above all else, and did everything he could to make her happy; especially after his father left. She knew who Noah Puckerman was outside of McKinely High, and he was more than slushie facials and practical jokes; just not publically to Rachel.
"Hey my bad, Berry. What's up?"
"Nothing, I'm just stressed out." She lied, only partially.
"Is it those hockey jerks? Need me to bash some skulls? Is it that Jesse kid? I told you he was scum." He balled his fists against his bended knees.
"You'd defend my honor Noah Puckerman?" She was suddenly beaming.
"Your honor? You mean my ass! My mother would kill me if she found out I was letting a fellow Jew get harassed at school."
Rachel rolled her eyes.
"Hey," he pointed his finger sideways at her, "I make sure they don't go too far."
She quirked the corner of her mouth in acknowledgement.
"No…it's not them." She sighed.
"And Jesse's gone. He deflected back to vocal adrenaline. He said he was going through emotional strife being with me knowing he let his team down. He said it was time for him to concentrate on his career."
"Oh." He mouthed not so surprisingly.
"So what's bothering you?"
He was smiling at her with that cocky smirk that he always had. That smirk that said he could handle exactly anything she had to throw at him, and he'd handle it well. She shook her head to clear her mind.
"I just get lonely sometimes. People shut me off before I even get a chance. I'm tired of pretending that everything's okay with how things are. I just want to be loved. Accepted. Wanted."
He was staring at her…seemingly speechless.
"You're wanted—"
"I'm tolerated. You guys keep me around because I carry the team. People want to hate me before they get to know me and stay stubborn with their first impressions."
He sighed.
"Your fathers love you. You have your family—"
"Yea when Daddy's home. But we're broken when he's gone…"
"You're not alone. Rachel."
"Why are you here, Noah?"
"To pray."
"For?" She furrowed her brow.
"I'm praying to be a better Jew, for my mom."
She nodded in agreement.
He smiled.
He leaned over, elbowing her in the ribs jokingly, noticing the wince she lets out when he retreats.
He leaned over to make a joke, elbowing her teasingly in her ribs, rubbing one of the bruises she was sure had turned purple by now.
"I have to go."
She stands quickly. So abruptly that Noah noticed the change in atmosphere. The tension. The distance.
She rushes to her car. She knows that he is following her, stopping only when he is bending over beside her rolled up window.
"What did you come here to think about, Berry? Seriously?"
She rolled down her window, smiling gingerly; smiling through her teeth.
"Nothing, Puck. Nothing."
And he let her pull out of the parking lot. He would get to the bottom of Rachel Berry. And for once, there was no sexual innuendo implied.
HOME
She got home near midnight, after driving to the 24- hour pharmacy for balm to put on her knuckle-sized bruises. She walked into a quiet, seemingly empty house. Making her way to her bathroom, she showered and wrapped her abdomen and iced her upper arms before turning in. She slept for only an hour before she heard the front door opening, their giggling wafting up to her open bedroom door like a pungent stench. Groggily, she stepped into her slippers and wandered down the steps, calling her father's name before coming to the final landing. She'd interrupted. Their tangled bodies scrambled to unravel themselves as she instantly turned around, racing up the stairs, ignoring the stinging in her ribs and back as she ran "How would she dance for Glee tomorrow?, she thought.
She heard them part ways—prematurely—and waited while she listened to her father's heavy hooves moving up the stairs.
"I didn't see anything, I promise!" She said instantly, shaking her head erratically, afraid of what he might do next.
His fists were balled up at his sides. He smelled like liquor and cheap perfume.
"I'm so tired, Ray! You can't let me have anything! " He was quiet.
She was terrified.
"I'm tired of being the gay man who's getting cheated on! He took everything from me, Ray! I can't keep letting him take away everything! There's almost nothing left but hate!" He was irate. He'd lost his control.
"Ray, we used to be in love. And you took away all of it. He saw you and he knew he couldn't be with me anymore. He saw you and he fell in love with you. I'm tired of you taking so much." He was sobbing; she sat still on the bed still looking at her father, this man, broken in front of her. She didn't know if she should stay or run before he over-reacted, before he lashed out at her; before he went too far…
"I can only love you with enough heart that your Daddy has left me…"
And then, he took off his belt.
She never hurt as much as she did that night. There used to be so much love in their house. She grew up in a loving household even without a mother, but somewhere along the line they disconnected. She had three rough, angry welts on her back. Two from the strap and one from the buckle; that one was swollen to the touch and blistered. The others came fast on her side and she crawled into the fetal position when she couldn't run away. She cowered. The sting of his strikes didn't hurt as much as her feelings did. He cried when he hit her, screaming just as much as she had until she had nothing left in her lungs to breathe with. It was agony for him. He resented her so much. She needed her Daddy. He would kiss away her scars and make everything alright. He brought her water when he'd composed himself. He rubbed aloe on her back and cried as he whispered "I'm sorry" into her hair. They rocked until he fell asleep behind her. She realized for the first time that night that her father hated himself. His burning self hatred toward his identity had killed every sparkle she'd ever see in her family. They used to be happy. She used to be loved. She would never let herself get to that point. She would never fail herself. She'd make sure she'd persist.
SCHOOL.
Rachel Berry had been absent that following Tuesday and Wednesday. No one answered their door when he went over to see her, and she never returned the phone calls when he did call her. Noah was worried. It was Thursday. He'd hope she'd be back today, at least to show up for Glee. He needed to know that she was okay. He'd known Monday night that he shouldn't have let her leave. He didn't want to jump the broom. He'd gone through the jocks who would hit a girl, and none of them fit the bill of a girl-beater-
Badass or not, Noah Puckerman never condoned hitting a girl.
Condoned? I've been around Rachel too long.
He sighed.
He missed her voice.
The way she'd chime into conversations that no one invited her to. He missed the way she said things that went against the grain. He loved the way she was so…herself all of the time. He admired her. He pined for her. Ever since their small week-long relationship, he felt lost. Most girls hadn't caught his eye intellectually. He distanced himself with the flighty girls he dated. He talked about all the things they didn't want to hear about so he could get rid of them faster. Their company never mattered. He wanted someone who he could debate with, someone to challenge him. He wanted someone worthwhile. Someone like Rachel Berry.
He missed her smile. How she always frowned when they all took little hits at her, insulting her backhandedly—without reason. He hated to see that face. But followed by it would be that resolve. That Drive. That something she had that kept her going, because one day—she would be where she wanted to be, and they'd all remember the person she had to endure to become the person she wanted to be later.
He scouted the lunchroom, and as soon as his eyes crossed her path, he focused. He knew instantly then that something was wrong. She was smiling, greeting people in Glee through her plastic smile, crying behind her big brown eyes. He was nervous to approach her. He knew as soon as she had glanced over figure that someone was hurting Rachel; that someone had hurt his Rachel.
She was wearing jeans.
And sneakers.
Someone would die for hurting her.
He crossed the room, faster than his ego could allow him to—and he stopped directly in front of her.
"I need your help."
End of Chapter Two.
R&R
