Puck twiddles his thumbs outside in the waiting room, Quinn beside him. She's flipping through a magazine, looking up every once in a while towards the room where Rachel's currently in.
Rachel had come to in the car, her eyes looking a bit lost. Puck had felt his fingers tighten around the steering wheel as Quinn had fluttered around Rachel nervously, not sure what to do. Rachel had asked where they were going, immediately telling them to take her to her GP when Puck had told her the hospital. Quinn had protested but Berry had been pretty fucking insistent, leaning her head against the window and mentioning out loud that someone needed to call Mike and Matt.
'What the fuck is taking so long?' Puck mutters to himself, running a hand through his shaved head. Quinn glances at him out of the corner of her eye. Puck notices that she's been unusually silent; almost cautious in the way she's been treating Rachel. Puck had tried asking what was up, but had been brushed aside curtly. There is the sound of footsteps and Puck lifts his head to see Matt still in his sweatpants and wifebeater. He's got a red hoodie draped over his shoulders.
'Where is she?' Matt demands and Puck doesn't miss the glare that Rutherford sends his way. Puck immediately goes on the defensive.
'Screw you. Quinn did it,' Puck pointed at the blonde, who stiffens and folds her arms.
'I didn't do anything Puckerman. She was just talking and then she just…' Quinn trails off and Puck feels slightly guilty, because he can remember the fear and the confusion that he'd felt seeing Rachel look like she was drowning on the couch. Matt sighs and collapses down into the seat next to Puck, telling both of them that it isn't anyone's fault. The three of them sit there and the clock that hangs on the wall to the right slowly starts to drive Puck insane.
The sound of the door opening makes Puck climb to his feet and Rachel walks out, looks startled to see them there. Her eyes flit nervously from Quinn to Puck before settling on Matt, and Puck takes in the way that her shoulders seem to loosen slightly.
'Matthew,' she breathes out and Puck tries to ignore the way his stomach twists slightly when Rutherford walks over and takes her hand in his. The doctor seems to know Matt, this smokin' hot Eurasian chick Puck would totally have been checking out if he wasn't so concerned about Rachel.
'She's fine,' the doctor announces to them and Rachel huddles into Matt's side, chewing on her lower lip. Puck squints at the stitching on the woman's coat and sees Angela neatly printed in block letters.
'Thank you Angela,' Rachel says and her voice is unusually quiet, almost tired. Angela gives Rachel an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder, her demeanor slightly more somber.
'Just take what I said under consideration alright Sweetie? I know it's hard but you've a pair of brass ones on you.'
Puck's sure Angela meant to be quiet but he hears her words anyway, swings his gaze over towards Rachel who nods her head. Matt thanks Angela and the doctor kind of blushes, which finally seems to break Berry out of whatever stupor she's in. Matt jumps and Puck thinks Rachel squeezes his side. Puck has his hands in his pockets, looks awkwardly at Quinn who looks like she's about to cry.
'You sure you're okay?' Puck finally asks once Angela's disappeared. Rachel's fiddling with the hem of Matt's hoodie, rolls the red material methodically between her thumb and forefinger.
'I'm sure Puck,' she says rather dismissively and Puck winces at the use of his nickname. The entire time he's known Berry she's only ever brought that shit out when she's majorly pissed. Rachel doesn't try to look at him but instead centers her focus on Quinn, whose lips are trembling. Puck shifts warily, looks from one woman to another. Suddenly Quinn's blubbering and apologizing, clinging to a surprised Rachel who kind of softens and rubs small circles into Quinn's back. The one good thing about this is that Rachel's not cosying up to Rutherford anymore. Puck swallows as the beginnings of an I'm sorry linger on the tip of his tongue.
He isn't quite sure whether now is exactly the best time to try and make good on what went down last night. Puck had gone home to his dark and empty apartment, wishing he had brought the entire six-pack with him instead of one measly can of beer. The anger, disgust and remorse – the potent mix had warred inside him. He'd tried to sleep but hadn't had much luck. Every time he closed his eyes he kept seeing a broken Rachel Berry swimming behind his lids. He'd given up around three in the morning, instead sitting down and pouring whatever he felt into words.
Rachel meets his eyes and Puck thinks back to high school, when she had told everyone she was kind of psychic. He'd thought she was just being…well, Berry but now that they're both staring at each other, Puck wonders what a world would be like if Rachel Berry could read your mind.
It kind of terrifies him.
But right now, all he can think is that he really wishes he could talk to Rachel. Perhaps it isn't the best time though because she's pretty much just fainted in his arms an hour or so ago. Berry kind of nods her head at him and steps to the side, gently depositing Quinn into Matt's hesitant arms. The dancer looks faintly alarmed and Puck tamps down the urge to laugh, because Quinn would probably castrate him or something for ridiculing her moment of weakness. The two of them start towards the exit and Puck hovers a few feet away from Rachel, something stuck in the back of his throat. Rachel's toying with the hem of her loose white shirt and Puck takes a moment to admire the way the material makes her skin look kind of tan.
'Thank you for your assistance,' Rachel says formally and Puck balls his fist inside the pocket of his jeans.
'Yeah well. It wasn't like I was going to let you drop unconscious onto the floor or something,' Puck mutters in response. She had said Good when she had realized he was in front of her, and not Jeremy.
'Nonetheless-'
'Look Berry, I'm sorry okay?' Puck interjects, sounding harried. He's desperate for Rachel not to hate him, to resent him or some shit like that. 'Last night was a dick move and I'm an asshole.'
He's sincere and perhaps she notices that because she flashes him a tight smile, sighs a little delicately. Puck's reminded of how small she is, how very slight. It's hard to see that sometimes because Rachel's always been larger than life, with her voice and her can do attitude. Puck finds it strange that the things that had made him want to light himself on fire he kind of admires now, because it shows that Rachel's always been sure of who she was even back when he was just some fucked up kid from Lima who couldn't find his way.
'Well I suppose I'm partly to blame-'
Puck looks at her like she's gone insane. 'Shut the fuck up Berry. You weren't the one who stuck his foot so far down his throat, he'll probably be shitting leather.'
'As always Noah, your eloquence astounds me,' Rachel remarks dryly, Puck's heart lifting when he hears his first name. She sucks in her cheeks. 'I'm not angry with you, not really. I should have expected with your stubborn nature that you would…well nevertheless it doesn't matter. You have what you need to know now.' The last bit is kind of bitter.
He wants to tell her that if he'd known that this was what lurking behind the door, he'd rather it had stayed shut.
'I'm sorry,' he feels like it bears repeating. Rachel gives him a wry upward turn of the lips and Puck doesn't understand what that means. Does it mean she's forgiven him? Does it mean he's allowed to talk to her about what's made her the way she is now?
He feels something warm on his arm and sees Rachel's hand curled around his arm. It's nice, he thinks. She exerts the barest hint of pressure and Puck kind of just stands there, not sure what the fuck he's supposed to do now. Thankfully Rachel saves him, not for the first time.
'If you don't mind, I'm sure Matthew is worried about me. And I would really like to go home,' she says the last word with a kind of tentative wonder. Puck gives in and covers her hand with his own. There is something that stings and Rachel looks fairly startled, abruptly taking her hand away as Puck allows his to fall to the side. When they come out Quinn's composed herself and Matt's awkwardly patting her shoulder.
'You ready Elle?' Matt asks and Rachel nods, giving both Quinn and Puck a heavy wave before following Matt out into the afternoon sun. They watch as the light paints Rachel's face, highlights the fatigue so clear on her face that Puck wonders how he's missed it.
'I miss the old Rachel. You know, the one who would whip out those crazy pie charts and give us folders with those detailed notes on how we could improve our vocal range?' Quinn whispers kind of brokenly. 'This Rachel…she scares me.'
'Come on, I'll take you home,' Puck answers because he can't help but agree.
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