Kurt felt his heart beat in his ears, his eyes fixed on the holes where Puck's last words come out of, "Attempted Murder, Attempted Murder, ATTEMPTED MURDER!" Kurt's snapped towards Finn. He ridiculously demanded for all his answers from the clueless teenager.
"I have to poop." And with that Finn ducked behind the ugly ass yellow hospital curtain.
Kurt slapped the cell closed. What? No,no,no." How could Nick even get the sympathy? How could...!?
Kurt snatched at the chocolate bar.
He could feel the soft, warm chocolate. He savoured that delectable feeling under the pads of his fingers, before he tore open the golden foiled. Hot sticky chocolate stuck to the wrapper.
Kurt licked at it, feeling the flavour explode over his tongue. Kurt groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. Momentarily Kurt was able to lose all his thoughts and just taste.
Each title of Caramilk that was etched into each pre-proportioned bite was worn away. Leave a slab of appetizing candy. Kurt tossed the tin to the side, leaving the melting chocolate in his hands.
He took a healthy bite, a mouthful, nearly half the bar. It oozed into the corners of his mouth. The candy sluggishly slid down his throat. Residue of the caramel stuck to Kurt's teeth. His poked and wiggled his tongue over it, cleansing and tasting.
Kurt could still taste the lingering chocolate on his lips as he rolled them over each other.
He wanted more. He needed more.
Kurt's next bite was slow; he took a tab of it into his mouth. And pulled at it, a thin link of bronze goo stringing from his mouth to the rest soft bar. When it snapped it clung to Kurt's chin. He swiped a thumb over it, and brought it to his mouth to suck. The male moaned his senses on absolute fire!
All thanks to Puck.
Patience was gone, he hungered for it. Kurt laid the rest on his tongue. He sucked on it feeling the chocolate leak over his taste buds.
When it was gone Kurt was desperate for more. He took each one of his fingers, cleaning it, taking any phantom of chocolate from it.
It left him more starved then before, his stomach burning for food as it did for answers.
*
They were asking the same questions but this time with a professional here, so it took twice as long. Puck felt like the weight he was dragging was rotting and slipping out of his hands.
"You shouldn't have asked him anything without any legal respiration. It's against the law, he's a minor." The lawyer pointed and shook his fist at Detective Paulson. His fancy watch shaking around his wrist.
"Haven't you heard, we trying him as an adult? He is 17, he should know better. Beside he answered all our questions willingly." The suited officer took a small sip from his coffee.
"As an Adult?!" The lawyer began but the isolated room's door creaked open, and Brenda stepped in.
She was meek and apologized to the room, overlooking Puck, "Sorry I had to make sure my daughter was asleep before I left. I came as quick as I could."
"Where is Sarah?" Puck asked as he looked directly at his mother.
She took the seat beside him, but didn't even tilt her head in his direction, "She's at the motel."
"Alone?" Puck was getting tired of his mother. Her detachment, her pretending.
"She's old enough to look after herself for a few hours. It's not like I could get her a babysitter." Brenda smiled at the lawyer offering her hand to be shaken.
The lawyer quietly introduced himself as Steck. He sounded nervous about how this would unravel.
"Sarah's eleven." Puck cut in. He felt the urge to make her look directly at him. For her to see him. To face him. Just once.
Brenda moved on the shake the Detective's hand. Acting as if he wasn't planning on incarsinating her son.
"You were able to handle yourself at eleven." Her voice tried to hide the meaning.
But for once, everyone in the room knew what that meant. And everyone was uncomfortable, the professional shifted in their seats. Brenda smiled on as if she hadn't mentioned a very, very dark thing.
Puck felt like his heart was being ripped out through his throat. Followed by his sanity. He had taken it too long. The absence filled his life, now this! She wanted to talk about. He was going to talk about it! Hell, he had been shoved back into it. Why the fuck not roll in the muck?
"Well I had to. I had to take care of both of you. You and Sarah." He wanted to slap her and he did so with his tone.
Mrs. Puckermen's soft jaw set and a vein in her neck twitched, "Noah..."
He saw it and he loved it. Because she was going to see it, face it. " Yup, Little Noah had to take care of his mommy-" He moved his shoulder, cocked his head, trying to look directly into his mother's eyes. "Why? Because you couldn't."
"Don't Eli-"
"DO NOT CALL ME ELI!" Puck shot up, his chair clanking as it pulled at his arms. Awkwardly hanging off his handcuffed wrist. The steel bit into his skin and his raging voice boomed in the small little cement room.
Brenda smooth her hands over her lap, she acted as if her oldest hadn't just screamed at her, "I'm sorry can we just-"
Puck started to shake his head, his eyes squinting, "No, I want to talk about this. You want to know why I had to take care of you guys? Why I had to be the adult when I was just a kid?" He leaned down his hand bracing himself on the table, "Hmm Mum."
Brenda glance at her son only catch his eye for a second, "Noah.."
"Because you needed your fix." Puck didn't mock, he just stated a fact. Just a fact. "You'd put up with anything just to get your fix-"
She slapped him, tears whelming in her eyes.
He felt his flesh sting. Chills running down his spine. Puck had been slapped plenty of times. But this was the first time it felt good.
*
The lawyers and cops decided that the meeting was over, but Puck could still feel the burn in cheeks.
He was escorted a back to his cell and as heavy door rattled shut, Puck laughed. He laughed from deep in his belly. It rang down the block, inmates sounding their crude complaints.
Puck, since being thrown back into the shit hole his reality was, was forced to do a lot of things. Practice old habits. Deal with old emotions. But he wasn't forced into that. He chased it. Wild and crazy.
Maybe that was the only means of surviving this, was losing his fucking mind.
He had been trying so hard to force the thoughts out. Being tremendously reluctant to accept the details of his painful memories. But that`s his history. That happened.
And he dealt with it. He protected his family by killing his father. And for the first time in 6 years he felt the rush that came with that fact.
His father was a monster, a plague that infested the Puckermen home. Their home, their hearts and their minds, diseasing them.
But he was still his daddy.
Puck broke down again his fist colliding with the hard cement walls.
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