Two reviews last chapter? Really, guys? Come on now! (In their defense, those were so damn good reviews) If the questions are intimidating, dont answer them! I just want you all to think about them, because it really helps with understanding this story on multiple levels. Anyways...here we go!
He tossed and turned on the uncomfortable cot he had grown accustomed to sleeping on. The fertility statues in the corner of his rented bedroom cast large shadows on the plastered wall, and the paper lanterns suspended from the ceiling swayed with the slight breeze coming out of the ceiling vent. Ever since he came back from the military, he'd turned into somewhat of a mild insomniac. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep, but he was afraid to. Maybe Noah Puckerman wasn't one to admit fear, but the things he dreamt about night haunted him. And it was the same recurring dream over and over again.
The bullets were flying at a rapid speed, creating a hurricane. Men were diving into the bushes, trying to protect themselves. He saw the enemy swarm his troop, and panicked. He tightened his grip on his gun and reassessed the situation, trying to stay calm. He saw a little clearing behind one of the soldiers, a safe haven. He knew that if he made it there, he'd be home free. The loud pops that kept bursting every few seconds were breaking his concentration. He had to get to safety, but how?
Then he heard a cry from behind him. He whipped his head, and saw that two of his friends—Eddie and Hal—had been hit, hard. He saw a large blood splotch growing larger by the minute on Eddie's abdomen. Hal had fallen to the ground, a bullet in his leg impairing his ability to move. He was trying to crawl away. Suddenly, Puck felt something snap into gear in his mind. He realized the gravity of the situation, and knew he had to move fast.
He ran backwards, to the dismay of Eddie and Hal.
"What the fuck, Puckerman? Run the other way! Save yourself!" screamed Hal.
"No!" Puck refused; he had to help his friends. The three of them, they started out together in boot camp. They'd suffered through so much together. He couldn't just let them die. He knelt down and tried to get Eddie with one arm, while supporting Hal with his other. It didn't work, and he kept falling over. It became apparent that he couldn't help both of them.
"Just go, take Ed," Hal pleaded, "I can get over there myself, but Eddie, he might be bleeding out." Normally, Puck wouldn't have listened, but he knew Hal was right. Eddie was starting to lose consciousness. Puck nodded. He picked up Eddie, ducked and ran the other way.
"I'll be back before you know it, hang on, Hal," Puck yelled. Hal nodded weakly. Puck ran to the clearing, his legs giving out a couple of times, but he went on. Once he got Eddie to safety, he tried to tamponade the wound with a wadded T-shirt, until the field paramedic got there and took Eddie back to the headquarters.
"Get Hal, I'll be fine," Eddie said feebly, drifting in and out of consciousness. When Puck was sure Eddie would be fine, he gathered up his stuff and turned around to find Hal. When he got back out to the battle site, he found it littered with unclaimed canteens, and a couple of limp bodies. He shuddered at the sight of so much blood.
When he finally located Hal, he saw his worst nightmare come alive. Hal was only a couple of yards away from where he last was. Only this time, there was an enemy soldier standing over him, a gun pointed to Hal's head.
"No, please," Hal begged. It was a blow to see the strong, fearless soldier Puck had come to see as a brother look so helpless.
Puck ran out. "Stop! Hold your fire!"
Bang.
Too late.
He tossed a final time, tried to shake the memory, and attempted to get a good night's sleep. He knew he would need it, because he would be moving out soon—into Santana's apartment, for the time being. He was nervous to say the least. He needed help.
The next morning, Santana went to work. It was beginning of another intense work period, but she was glad to take it on. They were coming in today for fittings for the Invincible campaign, and the next month would be full of promotional shoots: print and video. And as the star of the campaign, she would be busy. She hoped Daniel would give her a couple of days off so she could spend time with Puck.
She went to the studio, where she found Coral, Sasha, and Katie already there. Katie gave her a shy wave, and Santana waved back. She'd been kind of neglecting her little protégé ever since Puck came back into the picture, and she felt bad. Coral had a pissed off expression on her face, as usual.
"Hey," Santana greeted Katie.
"Hi, how are you?" replied Katie, her Southern accent making a rare unsuppressed appearance.
"Good. Listen, sorry I've been sort of ignoring you. I've just been really busy. One of my old friends is in town, and we've been catching up."
"Don't worry about it, I'm fine. And would this friend happen to be the one I saw you with on Page Six?" Katie asked slyly.
Santana groaned. "Not you too. Yeah, he is. But we're not dating!"
"Not yet," Katie teased.
"Ha ha. Been there, done that." But would she do it again?
"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad. You seem a lot happier lately."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The other day, you ate a whole plate of chocolate covered strawberries and didn't complain once about how fat you'd get."
"Ugh. Don't remind me."
"He's good for you."
Santana started hysterically laughing, and Katie shot her a quizzical look.
"Wait till you meet him, I think you should. You are the first person in my entire life who has ever said anything like that to me about Puck. All throughout high school, I had to sneak out to meet him, and my best friends told me I was too good for him. I never listened. They all said he was bad news," Santana explained before walking towards the center of the room.
"That doesn't mean he's not good for you," Katie replied quietly.
Sasha and Coral were already stripping down, assistants equipped with measuring tapes running circles around them. Katie and Santana followed suit.
"Daniel, why do we even have to come in today?" Coral asked, as she raised her arms. An assistant wrapped the tape around her bust.
"Because we're doing fittings, Coral. Unless you want your boobs to drown in a bra ten times too big, you're in this. And don't complain, I pay you more than you deserve with all your whining," replied Daniel tiredly. The poor man didn't get paid enough to deal with bratty supermodels.
"It won't even matter, you're just going to shove me to the background anyways, for the star here," Coral exaggerated, gesturing towards Santana. Santana gave her a snide glare, one that had bitch written all over it.
"Actually, I am, Coral if your attitude doesn't change," Daniel snipped, before taking yet another call on his Crackberry.
Suddenly, Sasha let out a little yelp. "Ouch! Watch it!" she cried, backing away from the poor girl who was wrapping a measuring tape around Sasha's bust.
"I'm so sorry, Sasha. I didn't mean to poke you," she apologized frantically. Santana wrinkled her forehead. When had these girls gotten so demanding and spoiled? Was she like this? It was just a little poke. Sasha probably didn't even feel it.
"Don't let it happen again. Whatever, are we done?" Sasha asked impatiently, "I have to meet my boyfriend. He only has today free before he has to go to Venice with his little brats."
"Boyfriend my ass," sniped Coral. Sasha was "dating" Lawrence Storm, Hollywood's "It" director, which would be perfectly okay if he A) wasn't married with kids, B) twice her age, and C) being used for his Hollywood casting pull. Sasha was trying to get into acting, something every celebrity wanted to do, whether they would admit it or not.
"Yes, Sasha. Good thing you came in, it looks like you've gotten a little big bigger. Have you gained any weight?" asked the assistant. A look of alarm passed Sasha's face, which humored Santana for some reason.
"Why? Does it look like I have?" she asked frantically, shaking the assistant. The assistant could barely shake her head.
"Weren't you gone for a week last month? Did you go and get your boobies pumped like Santana here?" snickered Coral.
"Bitch," Santana muttered. She'd be the first to admit that she had breast implants. She wasn't going to lie about it. And she sure as hell wasn't going to apologize for her breasts. They paid her bills, regardless of how fake they were or how much of a stranger she felt in her own body.
"Slut," Coral smiled.
Slut.
The toxic word used to bother her so much.
She had been called worse.
Whore.
Disgrace.
Second-best.
So, she didn't know why Rachel's comment had hurt so much. Maybe it was because everyone else in Glee Club had ganged up on her too. Weren't they all supposed to be non-judgmental losers together? She knew she had it better than all the rest of them. She didn't have a baby; she wasn't a paraplegic, etc. So why had Rachel attacked her of all people?
Or maybe the real reason was because he had failed to say something in her defense.
Now, as she cried in the halls, she felt even worse. Brittany was trying to comfort her but was failing, because honestly, Brittany was way too happy to understand. No one understood her and her crazy reasoning for her crazy ways (Because there was a person under all that crazy, really). To make matters worse, he was standing right over there, thirty feet away, not doing anything to make her feel better. Instead, he was pining over that fat chick.
"Am I a slut? Am I going to end up being a stripper?" she sobbed. Brittany just kept shaking her head, oblivious to the emotional crisis her best friend was going through.
"How could he just stand there, and not say anything? Tell me, Britt. I am the best thing that ever happened to him, and he just let them walk all over me!" she cried.
"I don't know, San. Maybe he thought you didn't need anyone to defend you," replied Brittany. That was the truth; she'd built up a reputation for being a tough girl. She didn't need anyone.
"But I do," she sobbed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lauren saunter off and she felt a strong urge to go beat the stupid smug look off of Lauren's face.
"Do you want a lollipop? That always makes me feel better," Brittany offered, stroking her back.
"No, no. Just go Brittany," Santana barked. Brittany backed off, and turned the corner, leaving Santana to wallow in her own tears. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and saw that her mascara was streaking all over.
She suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her slender frame from behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know it was him.
"Hey," he said. She didn't respond, but instead sniffled dramatically a couple of times, just to let him know what he had done to her.
"Okay, I deserve that. I'm sorry I didn't say anything," he continued. Her sniffling subsided. He continued to just hold her from behind, in the outskirts of the halls. He didn't try to turn her around, because he knew she was too proud to let him see her tear-stained face.
"For what it's worth, I don't think you're a slut," he whispered in her ear. It's worth a lot, actually.
She let him rock her for a few more moments, before shoving him off and walking off without so much as a goodbye. If he wasn't going to be "her man," he didn't get the satisfaction of comforting her.
She supposed over the years, she'd just built up a little wall against it. Now, she didn't even feel the sting anymore. It was like she turned numb.
"Love you too, Coral," Santana said without flinching, flashing a fake smile of her own.
"Remember that when I fuck your new boyfriend," said Coral.
"He's not her boyfriend," protested Katie.
"Shut it, newbie. No one asked you," Coral replied.
"He's not my boyfriend, just an old friend," Santana remarked.
"People like us don't have old friends," Coral said. The statement couldn't really be classified as a lie.
"I'm nothing like you," Santana said matter-of-factly.
"But aren't you?" said Coral innocently. Was she?
"It doesn't matter, because you better keep your paws off of him, Coral. Besides, you're not his type. He's not big on skank," Santana sneered. The thought of Puck and Coral together made her sick. It wasn't the first time Coral had suggested something like that. She wouldn't have been surprised if Coral actually did try to sleep with Puck, which was why she needed to keep her two lives separate.
"Well, he's with you, isn't he?" Coral asked nicely. Oh, no she didn't. Santana would fight Coral if she had to; it wasn't anything new. Coral would just be on the long list of girls she'd scared away Puck: Rachel Berry, Mercedes, the white rhino chick…
"Girls! Stop fighting. Really, we're a family here. And play nice. What would happen if you slipped up in public and shamed the corporation?" Daniel said, raising his arms. Daniel sighed again, he really didn't get paid enough.
Question to think about (Dont answer if you dont want, but I LOVE hearing what you think. The answers always make ME think, and its my story!)
1) Consider Coral's assertion that she and Santana are alike. Are they or are they not? Is Santana just in denial?
So sorry this wasnt a very good chapter, and was kinda filler-y but it needed to be done to advance the story.
But REVIEW, PLEASEEEEE!