Quinn took the train to New York and lay down on Rachel/Kurt/Santana's couch. She closed her eyes, listened to Rachel practicing an aria for school, Kurt burning something on the stove and Santana talking loudly about something concerning crabs. For once it was nice to be around people. People were distracting. She couldn't keep a train of thought in this apartment; it was too loud and not enough walls.
"So, you coming with us?" Santana asked.
She was wearing a tight dress and red lipstick. Quinn was about to shake her head; she wasn't really in the mood for trying to get into a club in the woolen cardigan and cotton dress that she had on.
"Yeah, sure" she answered despite that.
She shared a bottle of wine with Santana on the endless subway ride from Brooklyn. The thoughts in her head seemed to drift even farther away. The club was loud and played horrible music and Quinn looked very odd in her tights and pleated dress. She didn't care. She drank some drinks that a guy bought for her and then threw up in the bathroom. Santana held her hair.
"You feeling okay?" she asked.
"I want to go home" Quinn whispered because now the lack of thoughts in her head was making her stupid and scared.
"Okay. I'll just find Rachel and tell that we're leaving."
"You don't have to go."
"Yeah, I do. I don't want to be the one to have to call your mom when you get murdered."
Quinn held onto Santana's hand as they walked out into the New York City night. She really wanted to go back to New Haven, to her apartment with Puck's pasta and him playing the guitar. She felt unsafe here; out of her comfort zone.
"What made you come here anyway?" Santana asked as they tried to flag down a cab.
Quinn didn't answer. She stared at the wet asphalt and tried to fight the urge to lie down on it. She regretted coming here tonight. She regretted leaving home.
"Do you think Puck loves me?" she asked bluntly.
Santana raised an eyebrow.
"So that's why you came. You're freaking out."
"Just answer the question."
A cab stopped for them but refused to drive them to Brooklyn. Quinn wondered if they were ever going to get back to the loft.
"Of course he does" Santana replied the question Quinn had asked several minutes earlier.
"How do you know?"
"I asked him."
"You asked him?"
"Yeah."
Quinn exhaled slowly, fighting to find her brain amongst all the alcohol.
"He told me that he was in love with me this summer. But he was drunk and I don't think he even remembers it now."
Santana lit a cigarette. Quinn didn't even know that she smoked. She got a sudden urge to smoke too.
"And then, he told someone else today. I just happened to hear it… and he told someone, a complete stranger that he loved me."
"So you freaked out."
"I'm not freaking out."
"You just threw up. You never get that drunk."
Quinn took the cigarette from Santana. It made her cough and her head spin, but that was fine, her head was already spinning.
"It can't be a surprise, Q" Santana said. "He's lived with you for like forever."
"He lived with you too."
"Talk to him about it" Santana urged her.
"I can't."
"Yes, you can. But you have to realize that he will be bluntly honest with you if you ask him; he won't lie."
A soft drizzle started to fall down on them. Quinn was grateful for a distraction. She looked up and got water in her eyes. She blinked it away like it was tears.
"He doesn't lie" Quinn whispered in agreement.
In the end, they all crashed on some friend of Kurt's floor but Quinn couldn't fall asleep. She picked up her phone and called him.
"Where the fuck have you been all night?" he answered, sounding exhausted and angry and relieved.
"I'm in New York with Santana. Can you come and pick me up?"
…
Quinn couldn't sleep. It had been a long first day home. She sighed and got out of bed. She went downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. She drank it on couch and turned the TV on, eager to watch something about dictatorships in other countries on The History Channel to get sleepy. To her disappointment, her mother had chosen not to pay extra to get any of the channels that played those kinds of documentaries at three in the morning. Quinn sighed and squatted down on the floor to pick a movie to watch from the slim selection. Her father had evidently taken most of the action movies with him and left Judy with basically "Notting Hill" and Disney movies. Quinn was just about to choose "The Lion King" when she spotted a blank DVD case. She picked up and she knew immediately what it contained.
"Mom" she called from the end of Judy's bed.
Her mother sat up with a jolt and looked at her with sleepy eyes.
"What?" she asked. "What's the time, Quinn?"
"Who gave you this?"
Quinn held up the white case in front of her mother's face. Judy squinted.
"What is it?"
"You didn't want a copy of my documentary. I asked you and you said no because it would be too hard."
Judy grabbed the case and opened it. Inside lay a scrap of paper that she handed to her daughter. Quinn read by the light of the moon.
Quinn told me that you didn't want to see this, but I think you should. It's not about us; but it sort of is anyway. And it's really great. You should be proud. – Puck.
"He gave you this?" she asked, even though the evidence was in her hand.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He wrote it on that note, honey."
Quinn reread it. She took out the disc and held it between her fingers like it was something precious. Maybe it was, to her at least. Making this film had changed her life in so many ways.
"Did you watch it?" she asked.
Judy nodded.
"Yes."
"What did you think?"
"It… It broke my heart."
Quinn gave her a little smile.
"I guess that's sort of the point."
Judy nodded again. She looked fragile with her hair messed up and no makeup. Quinn wondered how much she had had to drink today. How much she had every day. If she was lonely.
"I haven't seen it in ages" Quinn confessed. "I would probably cringe if I did."
"Do you want to watch it with me?"
Quinn bit her lip. She nodded.
"Yes, I really do."
She clambered into bed next to her mother, on the side that used to be her father's. Judy inserted the DVD in her player and pressed play.
"It's just fifteen minutes long" Quinn reminded her mother.
"I know."
"I made it college. I've seen tons of better stuff."
"I'm sure you have" Judy said soothingly. "But I haven't."
…
At four in the morning, she got into his car. She hadn't even looked in the mirror since earlier that evening and could smell her own puke in her hair. He looked like shit too, tired and cranky.
"I'm sorry" she began. "I shouldn't have called."
"Stop it" he replied. "I told you that I would come and get you any time. This is any time."
She could tell that he was frustrated with her. He stared straight forward and listened to angry music that made her head ache. She didn't complain because he had driven out to get her. After that, she couldn't whine about anything.
"I called you" he said. "Like a hundred times."
"I'm sorry."
"You could at least have left a note."
"I know. I just… wanted to go so I went. I didn't think."
He didn't say anything. She wished she could offer to drive but she was still drunk and could hardly keep her eyes open.
"You don't do crap like this" he said. "You always answer your phone. You always tell me when you're going somewhere. You never to things on a whim."
She realized that that was true. And how worried he must have been. She watched his hands grabbing the steering wheel so hard it actually trembled slightly.
"I'm sorry" she said instead.
"What made you freak out?"
"I didn't freak out" she told him.
"Right" he said slowly, making it clear that he didn't believe her.
He never lied and she felt like it was all she ever did. And she was sick of it.
"I forgot to shut the camera off" she said.
It was a simple phrase but it meant that she was taking Santana's advice. Just ask him. What was the worst thing that could happen? She didn't want to think about it.
"What?"
"When I was taping Alisha and I had to take the phone call. I didn't shut the camera off."
"Okay" he said calmly.
"You told her that you loved me."
"Yeah, guess I did."
"And this summer, at that Fourth of July party, you told me that you were in love with me."
"I did?"
"You don't remember?"
"No."
"Oh."
She studied her nails, expecting him to say something. He didn't.
"So…" she began.
"What are you asking me, Quinn?" he sighed.
"Is it true? Do you love me?"
He was still staring straight forward and it gave her guts to look at him. Or maybe it was alcohol leftovers in her system that gave her the courage. She stared at his face and wondered how someone like him could still love someone like her; despite everything she had done.
"Yes" he answered.
He didn't blush or blink or twitch. He just said it, plainly, simply and even though it was only three letters it made the world spin again, worse than before, like she had smoke a hundred cigarettes.
"Why?" she asked quietly.
"You can't ask why someone loves you."
"No, I mean; why didn't you tell me?" she mumbled. "Why did you tell everyone but me?"
"Because I know you" he replied. "Because I know you would do something like this; freak out and leave."
"I'm here" she reminded him. "I'm not running away now."
He didn't respond. She didn't say anything either. What could she say? What did she want to say?
"You're scared" he said, breaking the silence after a few minutes. "That's fine. We're all scared of things."
"I'm not scared" she lied.
"You're scared of things that matter. That's why you don't go home anymore and why you don't stay in contact with your old friends. Instead you make new ones here that you secretly despise. That's why you don't sing anymore or do cheerleading and why you don't go to church anymore. You're scared of things that actually make you feel something."
"That's not true" she lied again, even though she vowed to stop doing so.
"Isn't it? Isn't it why you don't want to see Beth? Because she makes you feel things and you hate to feel things. Because caring can hurt you if it goes bad?"
"Stop it."
"I don't why you're like this. Maybe it was because your dad was a dick or because of Beth or because of your car accident. I don't know. I don't really care either" Puck went on. "I just didn't want you to leave; to freak out and panic. I love you and I want to be around you. If that meant never telling you the truth, well that was better than losing you all together."
She closed her eyes. A mixture of fury and humiliation burned in her throat. She hated that he knew her so well. That was the backside of letting people into your life.
"I told you that I loved you after Beth was born; don't you remember?" he continued, his voice a bit softer now. "I told you that I loved you; that I loved you for a long time and even more in that moment. You smiled – and then didn't talk to me for a year. I didn't want that to happen again."
She nodded. He loved her. She was a freak. She got it. She got all of it.
"Sorry I didn't leave a note" she whispered.
"It's okay" he replied.
The sun was up and the light was too bright for Quinn's eyes as Puck parked the car. She was sleepy and drained and hung-over and cold. Her dress hadn't entirely dried since the fall of rain. Puck seemed just as tired. She wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all last night.
"We'll talk about this later" he said as she unlocked the door to the apartment.
"Fine."
She took his hand. He looked down at it; confused by the touch.
"Come sleep with me" she said or asked, she was too exhausted to tell.
He didn't resist. She pulled him into her bedroom and got into bed. He hesitated before getting in next to her.
"Quinn…" he began.
"Tomorrow" she interrupted. "Let's just sleep."
…
Shelby had agreed for them to spend more time with Beth and therefore Puck and Quinn were there to pick her up from school. They stood outside the school gates together with the other parents; waiting. It meant something; something big. Quinn thought that this could have been her daily life, if she had chosen differently.
"When's Karen coming?" she asked instead.
"Tonight" he replied. "Did you actually quit your job?"
"I guess" she sighed.
She didn't really want to talk about that and clearly Puck didn't want to talk about Karen. As a relief, they spotted Beth walking towards them. She carried a yellow lunchbox in her left hand and her jacket in the left. She smiled as they reached them.
"Hi kid" Puck greeted her.
"Hi" Beth said.
They headed for Puck's car. Quinn asked about homework (they had math and science for tomorrow) and Puck carried her lunchbox. Beth sang along the radio and talked about her friend Moira who was going to Japan during the holidays and about some field trip they were taking. Quinn watched her in the rear view mirror. She could have been ours she thought. And it hurt and felt good at the same time.
"Where are we going?" Beth asked.
"To Quinn's house" Puck answered. "You'll like it. It's very fancy."
"Moira has a fancy house."
"Well, I bet you anything that Quinn's is fancier."
"Are you rich?" Beth asked bluntly.
Quinn laughed. It continued to feel like Beth had this form that she filled out with information about them.
"Not anymore. My dad is rich, but he doesn't live with us anymore."
"My mom's not rich" Beth told them.
"Mine neither, kid" Puck sighed dramatically.
Quinn shook her head at them with a smile on her face. She never wanted this car trip to end. She wanted Puck to keep driving forever; round and round and round Lima until they all got dizzy. It was such a bittersweet feeling having Beth with them and for once, Quinn felt more of the sweet side than the bitter.
"Moira's dad is a lawyer."
"Well, Quinn's dad is an asshole" Puck yawned. "That pays better."
Quinn elbowed him in the ribs and laughed and forgot about Karen and the mistake she made a year ago. She could have been ours. She's not but she could have been.
"Here we are."
They got out of the car and Quinn showed them into her mother's home. Puck made his (in)famous pasta with meat sauce that they ate in garden. The tasted of too much ketchup and had not enough seasoning but it gave Quinn flashes of memories of all the other times that Puck had made her this dish.
"Why aren't you together anymore?" Beth asked suddenly.
Puck and Quinn both looked up and at her. Quinn opened her mouth but had no idea what to respond.
"We…" she began. "How…"
"You didn't leave together yesterday" Beth explained. "And you don't touch anymore."
Quinn avoided Puck's eyes. She didn't want to think about Karen just now. Karen had no place with them, Puck and Quinn and Beth. No Karen. Not ever.
"It doesn't matter" she said. "What matters is you."
It sounded like a very grown up thing to say.
"And Puck has a new girlfriend now" she went on, to punish herself, to get herself out of this bubble.
It wasn't healthy to forget the real world; it only hurt twice as much when reality caught up.
Puck shifted next to her. She ignored him, not helping him to get out of this one. Beth frowned.
"What's her name?" Beth asked.
"Karen" Puck replied.
"Karen is a stupid name."
Quinn couldn't have agreed more.
…
She woke up before him and rolled over to look at him. Their legs touched under the covers. She wanted to reach out and touch him; invite him in for real. But she was afraid of what that would lead to. Quinn wondered what would happen now. She wondered if he would sleep here, in her bed, from now on. That wouldn't be so bad. That wouldn't be so bad at all.
"Morning" he grunted, covering his eyes with his hands.
Quinn's hair still smelt like puke. She was still wearing the same dress as yesterday and the taste in her mouth was of something dead.
"You shouldn't love me" she told him.
He let out a deep sigh while dropping his hands to look at her.
"Tell me something I don't know" he smiled.
She sat up in bed, crossing her legs under her, so that she wasn't on the same level as him. She needed space for this.
"I'm still here" she said. "I'm not freaking out."
"I know" he acknowledged softly.
"Just tell me; how can you love me?"
He sighed again.
"You can't ask me that."
"Why not?"
"I don't know why I love you."
"Right."
He extended a hand and touched the bare skin of her thigh. She shuddered as his hot hand touched her cool skin.
"You love me too" he whispered. "I know you love me too or you wouldn't have let me stay here for all this time. And you wouldn't have ditched Henry. And you wouldn't have invited me to sleep in your bed if you didn't."
She focused on his lips. How they parted and closed. She tried to ignore his words; to keep calm; to stop her heart from racing.
"And it probably scares you like hell" he went on. "But here's the thing; it scares everyone. Love is the scariest shit in the world."
His hand found hers and he pulled her back down on her back. His face was so close to hers now.
"What happens when I mess it up?" she asked. "I always mess things up."
"I thought I was the one who always ruined things" Puck said.
"No, it's me. I've ruined every relationship I've ever been in."
"Well, so have I."
She knew that he was just being nice. He might be reckless and sometimes an idiot; but she was the destructive one. Everything she touched turned into dust.
"Do you want to be with me?" he asked her.
She looked into his eyes; the nicest eyes she had ever known. She didn't deserve him.
"Yes" she admitted.
"Then I won't let you mess it up; I promise."
She nodded as he pressed his lips against her forehead.
"I need to take a shower" she told him. "I smell like vomit."
"I don't care."
He kissed her; their first kiss in years. She turned her face away. She didn't want their first kiss to taste like morning breath and hung-overs.
"I need to at least brush my teeth" she insisted.
He sighed.
"I don't care" he repeated.
"I know. I do, though."
She took a long shower and washed her hair until it only smelled like apples. She brushed her teeth and used mouthwash. Then she went back to bed. He had fallen asleep. She lay down next to him.
"I love you too" she whispered.
…
They sat in his car outside Shelby after bringing Beth back. Quinn watched Shelby doing the dishes in the kitchen; turning her head around to say something to her their daughter. Their daughter. Sort of.
"I'm not going to take Karen to visit Beth" he said.
"Good."
"Why does it sound like you hate my girlfriend even though you've never actually met her?" he asked tiredly.
"Guess once."
"I'm just going to remind you again that it was you who broke up with me."
"I know."
She saw Shelby leave the kitchen and turn the lights off. They could borrow Beth at times, but really, she wasn't theirs. Quinn had known that for eight years and still she didn't really get it.
"Karen's nice."
"I'm sure."
"You're probably not her favorite person either, considering… everything. But it would really mean a lot to me if you made an effort to like her."
Quinn turned to look at him. His face was pleading. If he had asked her to be nice to Karen, she would have agreed. But like her. Quinn would never like Karen on principle.
"Why?" she asked. "Why does it matter?"
"I care what you think."
"Why?" she repeated.
"You and me… I don't know… You were my life for so long and I lo..."
"Stop it" she said sternly, regretting that she had asked. "Please. Just don't."
He nodded and turned the ignition. With the lights out, they couldn't see anything inside the house anymore. It was time to go home.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Sure."
"I'm serious. You can tell me."
"I'm fine."
"Okay, I know you're not fine, because I know you and your entire face is passive and your tone is apathetic. The only time you sound alive is when you're with Beth."
"Let's just don't" she tried.
She turned up the music, even though it was Van Halen and she hated Van Halen more than life itself.
"I know you're just being nice" she told him. "But that's not your job anymore."
He swallowed.
"I do a lot of things that aren't my job" he commented and she had weird feeling he was quoting her.
He touched her knee and she flinched.
"We had a good day today" he said softly. "You and me and Beth. Right?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"I won't take Karen to see Beth yet. Maybe not ever, but if I will, I'll ask for your opinion first."
"Why don't you hate me?" she cut across him, getting tired with this act of niceness.
"Hate yo-"
"I ruined everything. I messed it up and you act like you don't care."
He parked outside her house. Van Halen was singing about jumping for love or something. She had a faint memory of singing this song when she was pregnant and bloated and young.
"I was mad at you, livid actually, for months" Puck told her. "But… what's the point?"
"Does everything have a point?" she asked because nothing in her life seemed to have a point.
He didn't answer. She wondered if he wanted her to get out of the car.
"I could never hate you" he mumbled. "Never ever. That's my problem."
She got out of the car and thought that she could never hate him either. That was her problem. That and the fact that she couldn't stop loving him either.
…
He woke up eventually and made her breakfast even though it was three in the morning. She sat on the kitchen counter and watched his hands crack eggs and stir milk and chop vegetables. Something about that made her want to touch him, take him by the hand and lead him back to bed.
"Hey" he said softly. "I might cut myself if you keep looking at me like that."
She blushed and blinked to focus her eyes on something else. He put the knife down and placed his hands on her waist. Her face was on level with his. He lifted her down from the counter. She kissed his neck, light kisses against his skin. She felt him shudder with pleasure. She never wanted to anything else than make him shudder with pleasure.
"You make me so happy" he mumbled against her hair.
Joy and fear fought inside her. One part wanted to whisper back that he made her happy too, the happiest she had ever been. The other part wanted to pull away, to tell him that they should pretend nothing had happened. She was terrified of losing him, of making him leave her. Going backwards was better than going off the road.
"Your eggs are burning."
"I can make new ones."
He found her mouth and kissed her. He entangled his hands in her hair and laughed when his fingers got stuck. He lifted her back onto the counter and kissed her and kissed her until she forgot to breathe.
"How is this going to work?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
She didn't actually know what she meant. There were so many things about this that scared her and equally many things that elated her, and she just needed to get all the facts down to understand it.
"Do you want to stay here?"
"Yes. Do you want me to stay?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He kissed her again. This was where they were different. Puck lived his life, he didn't plan or worry. He just jumped head first into new things. Quinn was always scared, always tentative, and always afraid of things turning bad.
"Relax" he whispered. "Nothing is going to change. I'll even keep sleeping on the couch if that's what you want. Small steps."
"I just don't understand how you can love me…" she began.
He cut across her.
"Everything doesn't have a logical explanation. I know that you're not your own biggest fan and maybe that clouds your judgment. But if you try to ask me one more time why I love you..."
He trailed off and didn't finish the ultimatum because she got the point. There was no gain in trying to analyze this. He was too good for her, kind and gentle and wonderful. And despite that, he loved her, wanted to be with her.
"What do we tell people?" she asked instead. "This isn't High School; we can't just appear in Glee Club, hand in hand."
Puck laughed. He looked relieved that she had changed the subject.
"Well, frankly, most people probably think we're already like married, you know, considering the whole baby and living together thing."
"Who thinks that?"
Puck shrugged.
"I don't know. People." he said nonchalantly. "I never bothered correcting them."
She rolled her eyes at him.
"Why not?"
"Nah, I always reckoned it would be true someday and they were just a little ahead of time."
…