Well I happen to have another chapter here, just lying around, so I thought why not show the world. I hope we all remember Puck's face is bruised, because sometimes I forget and it makes things hard.

Anywho, just thought I'd say this is probably going to be the second-to-last chapter, and then I'll make a sequel after I concentrate on some other fictions because I think this has become my priority for the moment.

Chapter Eight

Sam tried to suppress a laugh - it wasn't the time or place for it. Despite the fact that mere days ago Puck was visiting him in hospital, and now the roles were reversed wasn't funny. Ironic, but not funny.

His hand lay in Puck's, though he didn't quite know if Puck knew it. He had thought of singing, to see if it would help like it had helped him, but Puck probably didn't have a demonic ex-boyfriend tormenting him. So he settled with lacing their fingers together, hoping the warmth of his digits was as soothing as a song.

He didn't know if he was helping Puck, but at least the human contact was at therapeutic for himself. He was much calmer now than when he had called the paramedics, or when watching them delicately manoeuvre Puck's unconscious body through the thick trees, or the ambulance ride to the hospital. Or while waiting as they assessed the damage. The only real relief came when he was greeted by a doctor, informing him that luckily no vital organs were damaged and that the infection of the wound was controlled. He could tell that the more distressing details were removed from the analysis, but he didn't really want to know what they were. The only information that had stuck was that Puck was now stitched, and going to be kept under surveillance for a day or two - to check that he was healing properly and everything.

Sam sat, tracing the knuckles of Puck's hand when he was alerted by a wordless noise. Darting his head up, he saw Puck try and open his eyes. He did so, then blinked harshly before crashing back down onto his pillow. Sam smiled as the grip on his hand tightened. He knew Puck wasn't in pain, as he had experienced the same thing, and remembered it quite clearly.

As much as you wouldn't think it, waking up in a hospital is actually just like the movies - the blurry surroundings that force you to close your eyes again and wait a little more to try and see things. Puck rose again, this time managing to lift himself upright.

Sam let go of his hand and smiled. "Awake?"

"Nrgghmmpphhh."

"I completely understand."

Puck lightly punched Sam's arm, eyes squinted, noticing the IV drip jammed in his elbow. "Ouch."

"Oh," Sam remembered, "You might not know this, but you're in hospital."

"That does explain a lot."

"You were stabbed."

Puck blinked, and stiffed at the news. "That would connect with the searing abdomen pain."

Sam looked at Puck, wondering if any morphine that was administered had crosswired his brain. "You're taking this all very lightly."

He shrugged dismissively. "I don't have the energy to care."

Sam sighed, biting his lip. "...I'm sorry."

Puck raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Sam's lips quirked. "Ever since the idea of... us... it's been disaster after disaster. I-I don't like causing you all this pain." Puck stared at him before cocooning Sam's hand with both his own.

"Look," he said, demanding eye contact. "None of this is your fault. Not one bit. Not the stabbing, or being homeless-"

"What?" Sam's eyes widened. An intense feeling of vulnerability swept over him, and he yanked his hand loose. "How did you find out?"

"Woah, slow down. I'm homeless. Dad came home and kicked the crap out of me again." Puck eyed him suspiciously. "I didn't say anything about you."

Sam's mouth fell open and filled with anger. "Your Dad stabbed you? Call the Police for God's sake that can't be-"

"No," Puck interrupted, "He just kicked the crap out of me. No stabbing." He ghosted a hand over his blanket, stopping at his stomach. "I don't know how this happened." He shook his head, furrowing his brow. "Stop avoiding the question... are you homeless?"

Sam huffed. "No. I live in a motel."

"But I picked you up at your house just yesterday..."

Sam flushed an embarrassed red. "I walked from the motel - technically it's not our house... not anymore."

Puck scratched his head, careful not to tangle his drip. "I guess my house isn't a home either - but why did you hide it?"

Paying careful attention to the creases in his palms, Sam muttered a few words, one of the only audible ones being "pride".

Puck scoffed. "Pride? You hid that from me because of pride?" Sam nodded meekly, sensing that if Puck had the energy he would have shown his derision with a more physical action. Instead, his voice filled with empathy. "We're dating."He looked away. "You shouldn't have to hide from me. I want you to tell me everything - even if it's bad, so then I can help."

Sam rejoined their hands, letting out a small laugh. "I don't think you're in a position to help right now, but thanks. I think I should help you."

Puck's grip tightened. "And then get help in return." Sam was nodding so much his neck getting sore.

The two leaned towards each other, presumably for a kiss, but were interrupted by an elderly woman striding in the room.

"Nana-!" Puck gasped, pulling away from Sam and laying stiff.

The short woman walked to the empty side of the bed, silent, smoothing out the creases in the sheets. "Noah, what happened?" She asked rather stalely, but it didn't seem unnatural to Puck. He sat upright now, tight-lipped. "Noah," she warned, "What. Happened?"

"Got stabbed," he muttered softly, but apparently loud enough to be heard.

"Stabbed!?" Nana's reaction made Sam feel slightly guilty for his easy acceptance of the fact.

Puck cowered from the noise, putting his hands to his ears. "Nana-"

She shuddered, suppressing most of her rage. "Who?" Sam gulped - he had never seen an old person speak with such a quiet intensity.

"Dunno." He fingered his bedsheets, nervous under the stare of his Nana.

"And your face is bruised."

Puck looked up. "Dunno." Nana's eyes narrowed. "It was Pa. Not- not the stabbing, just the bruises. He kicked me out."

"Oh, Noah." Nana abandoned her anger to give Noah a hug, carefully avoiding his drip. Puck nestled in the crook of his Nana's arm, and she gripped him tight. Sam looked at the display of comforting affection with a smile. Even the scariest of old ladies could give repose. Nana Puckerman opened an eye, and stared at Sam unblinkingly until she stood straight again... Did he think out lou? She stalked over to him, and he began to cower as her shadow darkened his sight.

"Good evening," she said with unexpected cheerfulness, "I'm Noah's Nana, but you can call me Nana." She held out a wrinkled hand, and Sam was surprised to feel she had strength for her age. "From what I witnessed before, I assume you two are dating." Sam lowered his head and looked to Puck for instruction.

Puck nodded, dragging his tongue over his top lip. "Yeah," he breathed with caution, "We're dating."

She clapped her hands, causing a perplexed look from Puck. "Wonderful!" She placed a hand to her chest, letting her fingers drape as she noticed Puck's expression. "I'm sorry - was my reaction... unanticipated?"

"Well... yeah," Puck revealed, "It's the reason Pa kicked me out. I'm just surprised you're okay with it."

"It's a good thing, though, accepting us," Sam reassured, interjecting only to retreat back into their surroundings

"Okay then..." she turned to face Puck. "Noah, are you happy?"

Sam looked, waiting for an answer, which Puck returned easily. "Yeah," he said automatically. Puck was hurt, that was for sure, but there was no denying that the fleeting feeling of happiness was more constant now.

"And you, Sam," Nana turned, making Sam flinch. He hadn't expected to be dragged into this conversation. "Are you happy?"

Sam nodded fervently. "Of course."

Nana twirled. "If you're both happy, then I'm happy."

"Wow, dude," Sam whispered, turning to Puck's ear "Your grandma is awesome." Puck raised a smug eyebrow and nodded.

"That's Nana to you," she warned. "The hospital rang me as I was the only relative of yours they could reach, Noah. Before I came in here I had a talk with the Police, too." Puck's ears pricked up.

"Police?" he repeated.

"Police," she confirmed. "They came for the stab, but stayed for your bruises. They've ordered child services to give your home a routine check - just to see if you're in suitable care.

"I'm sorry about laying this all on you when you're in such a position, but when you leave here you can stay with me. For now you should get some rest."

Puck would have lied if he said the sudden influx of information hadn't made him feel lethargic. He nodded, stifling a yawn. "I'd tell you to ring me but I broke my phone," he told Sam.

Sam scratched his elbow. "Yeah, it's kind of how I found you. I sold mine for a cheaper one, anyway. I'll come visit tomorrow," he promised.

"Awesome," Puck grinned. "Bye, Nana."

"Bye, Noah," she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Sam, would you like a ride home? Where do you live?"

"Oh, I live... in a motel," he sighed. If Bubba could take the news of being gay, homeless wasn't that much of a stretch.

"That's completely fine," she said, leading him out the door. "Just be mindful of the crowbar when you get in the front seat."

Sam and Nana had only been gone for ten minutes when a Nurse strode into the room. She and Puck exchanged formalities as she replaced his drip. She told him with luck he'd be out on Monday, and she left with a smile. He was pretty sure she was snooping, and secretly enjoyed the relationship he shared with Sam. At least someone did.

He flicked on the small tv bolted to the wall and sighed as the picture pixelated into static. He threw the remote down. TV was boring anyway - a distraction to his thoughts. Right now he couldn't quite stop a sequence of memories repeating themselves.

"If you're both happy, then I'm happy."

If he was happy, then Nana was happy. That thought alone calmed most of his anxiety regarding Sam. If people cared about him, then they would accept him and his decision. And if they didn't accept his decision, then they didn't care about him, and by extension he didn't care about them. Steeling himself, Puck decided that was how it was going to be. A true badass wouldn't hide, and neither would he.

As much as Sam had prepared himself for Monday without Puck, walking to class alone still had a slight sting. Despite not being with him physically, his thoughts were clouded with his boyfriend. He was to be released from hospital in the afternoon, and Sam was going to visit him at his Nana's.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't see Santana slide into the seat next to him. She prodded the side of his head to achieve his attention. "Hey," she crossed a leg, "I hope your quest for love is going better than mine."

Sam couldn't suppress a grin, beside himself. "Official."

Santana raised an eyebrow, smirking with empathy "Official?"

"Secretly so." The two exchanged giggles before realizing they were in public and composed themselves. "But he's in hospital right now-"

"He was stabbed by an unknown attacker," Santana finished. Sam's eyebrows knitted.

"How do you know?"

"Most people do," she buffed her nails on her sleeve, "shit spreads in this school. But details don't." She raised her eyebrow in lieu of asking.

"Oh," Sam's shoulders slumped, "I don't have any details, not even Puck does. I'm just waiting to see him after school."

Santana nodded sympathetically, raising from her chair to return to her seat. "Well, here's hoping you can wait six hours."

"Thanks," Sam said as she left, glancing at the clock. "Half a period down, six and a half to go," he mumbled as he opened his history book.

Sam entered Nana's house after she did, thanking her for the lift.

"It's no worries," she said with a dismissive hand. "If I didn't Puck wouldn't have shut up about it."

"I can hear you, you know," Puck called from wherever he was. Sam laughed, following the sound as Nana returned to the kitchen. He poked his head through a doorway to see Puck lying on a couch. His bruises had shifted color from purple to a yellow, less noticeable but still rather conspicuous on his jaw and cheek.

"Hey," Puck said, kicking his feet to the ground to make room. "Nana made Matzo Ball soup," he gestured to the empty bowl on the small table beside him. "It's awesome. Want some?"

"No thanks," Sam said, taking a seat. Once his cheek was at a reasonable height, Puck wasted no time in repeatedly pecking his jaw.

"Nana will hate you if you don't try her food," Puck hinted as he came up for breath, delicately prodding his bruises.

"It's fine," Sam insisted, "I just came here to see you."

Puck smiled, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Well, I have been pretty lonely. Nana tried to stem the loneliness with food, but food can only help so much."

Sam giggled. He let Puck drawl about his day - as a gift for getting out of hospital. Apparently social services was scheduling a checkup for his house, and Nana said that he should have another day of bed rest before attempting anything again.

"It seems like nothing for a stab wound," Puck continued, "But apparently I was really lucky. Another inch deep or to the left and some serious organs would have been gone. But there's still an awesome scar, so I guess that makes up for it. Wanna see?" Puck asked, lifting up his shirt and fumbling with his bandages.

"No, no," Sam said hastily, edging away. He thought he had waited long enough, so he steered the topic of conversation to his preference. "I have something I want to ask you..." He looked for Puck's approval before continuing. "Tomorrow I have a counselling session with Miss Pillsbury, and she says I should sing in Glee club. I was wondering... if you wanted to help me?" Sam twisted his fingers together nervously.

Puck blinked, taking in Sam's body language. "You expect me to say no? Of course I'll help, you idiot."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I want you to be in the counselling as well, I talked to Miss Pillsbury and she said it was fine." Before Puck could say anything, Sam's fretfulness blurted more words. "It's just what you said about not hiding from each other. I want to show you who I was before, back in Kentucky... I hope it explains everything."

Puck tried to find comforting words, but only left his mouth open as he nodded. He wrapped his arms around Sam, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed together. "Wanna start working on the song?" he questioned as they pulled apart.

"I'm so glad you asked," Sam said, biting back his excitement as Puck pulled his guitar from next to the sofa.