Puck was awoken by the sound of his ma knocking on his bedroom door. Still feeling slightly groggy, he quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Noah! Bubbala! Why is your door locked?"
There it was again; the suspicion in her voice that he had come to know so well. But why would she be suspicious? He hadn't done shit! Suddenly, he realised that he was on the floor. The fuck…?
His eyes flickered up to rest on the sleeping girl buried in the sheets of his bed. Now panicking as his mother continued to question him through the wooden door, he hastily stood up and ignored how the room spun following his sudden movements. Something was scratching at his ankle. His... leg-rope? In the confusion of the day previous he'd forgotten to remove it – or to remove any of the sand currently wedged in unsightly places. Ignoring the chafing, he quickly gathered the sheet that he had been sleeping on and roughly tossed it on top of the mysterious girl. He covered her with it as best as he could. Praying that she wouldn't move or make a sound in her sleep, he crossed the room to unlock his bedroom door.
His ma immediately pushed it open, again looking suspiciously around the room. Noticing the mess that his bed currently was, she sighed, frustrated. "How?" She asked him, her voice incredulous.
Puck shrugged. "I- I didn't sleep well after yesterday."
Her face fell. "I'm sorry, Bubbala," she whispered, pulling him in for a hug. After a few moments, she released him from her grip and gestured for him to bend down. She pressed a kiss to his forehead like she had done when he was younger. "No more surfing for a while, okay?" She told him.
He nodded. After yesterday, he wasn't exactly sure whether or not he wanted to surf ever again. But, he hadn't bothered himself by thinking about it. He was just worried about what he was going to do with the girl who had saved him. He couldn't turn her loose on her world – she had given him his life back! He would have to find somewhere safe for her to go, and even if that safe place was his bed room, then that would have to do.
"Oh my," his ma said gravely, noticing the sand in his hair and on his unwashed clothes. "Noah! You didn't even shower!"
He rolled his eyes. "I nearly drowned, ma."
"Regardless, that is no excuse for lack of personal hygiene," she chastised. "Get in the shower. You're going to school."
Puck gaped. He hadn't been expecting that one. "School? You can't be serious!"
"I am," she told him, her mouth in a hard line. "I spoke to Officer Farnsworth last night about your lack of morals. Your education is important, Noah. He won't stand for any more truancy."
"Can't guarantee that I'll pass, though," he muttered. "Guy's a prick, ma. I can't believe that you're listenin' to him."
"I'm just doing the right thing by you," she countered. "One day, in the future, you'll thank me for it. Now, get your clothes and get in the shower. You're covered in sand!"
He watched, crestfallen, as she shut the door behind her. When she was out of earshot, he swore loudly. School? The day after he had nearly drowned? Bullshit. Turning to look at the still sleeping girl, he wondered what he was going to do. He couldn't exactly bring her to school with him. She would have to stay in his room for the day.
Gathering his clothes and heading for the shower, he made a mental checklist of what the girl would need. Food was a given. Oh, and water. Something to keep her occupied? Television. Yeah. That would do.
He washed the grime from his skin, unattached the leg-rope and tossed it to the far corner of the shower. He didn't want to look at it. Even the feeling of the water on his back sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of how he'd felt down in the depths of the ocean. He had accepted his death. He had acknowledged that he'd never see his family or friends again. Here lies Noah Puckerman… a son, a brother, a… a what else? That was all that he was, wasn't it?
His switched the water off and dried himself before dressing for school in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. He left the severed leg-rope in the shower, unable to even pick it up to throw it in the trash.
Sneaking past Sarah, who was currently watching children's cartoons in the living room, he made his way into the kitchen and filled up a bottle of water. In the pantry, he grabbed whatever food he could get his hands on before quickly making his way out of the kitchen lest his mother grow even more doubtful of his behaviour.
When he returned to his room, the girl was still sound asleep. Placing the food and water down by the bed, he considered leaving her that way. Deciding against it, he gently pulled the crumpled sheets off of her and sat on the edge of the mattress.
Her face was serene. Her eyes were shut, her long eyelashes gently resting against her cheeks. She breathed quietly – not loudly, like he did when he was asleep. The corners of her mouth were raised upwards in a sort of smile, her hair spread around her head like a halo. Puck allowed himself a moment to stare at her.
He didn't usually find girls beautiful – but that was what this girl was. She was something too pure, too innocent to be just plain old hot. Shaking his head to get rid of these strange thoughts, he found himself reaching out to gently push a stray strand of hair back from her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open at his touch, a sleepy smile taking over her face. She blinked up at him; once, twice, three times. They stared at one another in silent awe. Who was she, this girl who had so selflessly pulled him from the stormy sea? How had she managed it?
He was struck by surprise when one of her hands suddenly caressed his cheek. He didn't dare move away – for the moment, he was completely under her spell. Her fingertips traced his cheekbones before they travelled to brush against his eyelashes, then to trace placid circles around his eyes. They scraped against the light stubble along his jaw, then moved to lightly touch his lips.
He pulled away from her then. "Uh," he croaked. His voice was suddenly hoarse. Coughing uneasily, he ran a hand through his 'hawk and stood up from the bed. She sat up without removing her eyes from his. He looked away and down at the food that he had brought her. A box of… Fruit Loops? Well, it would have to do. "I need to go to school today, so you'll have to stay here on your own for a few hours. So, I, err, I brought you some food."
Ignoring the blank look that she gave him, he handed her the box of cereal and left the water bottle at the side of the bed, in plain view. He marched over to his television and turned it on before tossing the remote to her. "So, you can watch TV and I'll go, and then I'll be back and we'll figure out what to do, 'kay?"
She wasn't looking at him. Instead, she was transfixed by the moving images on the screen before her. She moved slowly toward it, raised her hand on the glass surface and flinched away from it when it made a loud noise. She looked back at him, afraid.
"It can't hurt you," he tried to reassure her.
"Noah! Come on! You have to go or you'll be late!" He heard his mother call from elsewhere in the house.
Sighing, he reached for his backpack and threw it over his shoulder. Breakfast was not going to happen today. "Don't leave this room, alright?" He told the girl sternly before shutting the bedroom door behind him.
At school he was greeted with a series of different reactions. Some of his friends were sad, though others were excited to hear what had happened to him. Of course, he brushed off any indication of fear and pretended that he'd enjoyed the dangerous experience. He was a badass, after all.
Santana eventually caught up with him at lunchtime. "Why the fuck didn't you call me?" She demanded to know upon cornering him against his locker.
He sighed as he shoved a text book back into his locker. "I was a little pre-occupied," he told her truthfully.
"Too pre-occupied to tell your fucking girlfriend that you're alive?"
Kurt Hummel, or Lance Bass, as Puck liked to call him, eyed their exchange with distaste from across the hall. Puck sent him a ferocious glare, sending him scurrying away in fear.
"I'm sorry, 'kay?" He hissed, suddenly inexplicably annoyed at his girlfriend's appearance. In all honesty, Puck had never really felt anything more than sexual attraction toward Santana Lopez. He was sure that it had been the same for her, once. However, their relationship had turned into something more for her. He was like a possession. To control Noah Puckerman was to let everyone know that you couldn't be messed with.
Puck hated that she thought that.
She narrowed her eyes at him before walking away without saying another word. Even if he was pissed at her, he couldn't help but watch appreciatively as her cheerleading skirt swayed from side to side.
The school day, ultimately, wasn't so bad. He found that he couldn't concentrate on any of his work because he was too fucking worried about the mysterious girl holed up in his bedroom. Surely, his ma hadn't seen her before she'd left for work! She would have called him to yell at him, right?
When the bell rang, signalling the end of the day, he rushed to his truck and drove home as quickly as he possibly could. He burst through the front door and rushed to his bedroom.
He was relieved to see her sitting still, still staring at the television. She hadn't touched the Fruit Loops, he noticed. Instead, it seemed that she had hardly moved at all, all day. Throwing his backpack onto the floor once more, he moved to switch the screen off. She tore her eyes away from the device, her face only slightly annoyed.
"Noah," she said warningly.
He tried not to roll his eyes. He really did. "It's Puck."
"Why would you turn the magic box off? I was perfectly happy watching it until you came in here and spoiled everything!"
The… magic box? He blanched. "You talk now?"
"Of course," she replied smugly. "Now, put The Voice back on, please."
"You… you… so, you just, like, decided not to speak to me this whole time?" He asked her, growing annoyed. "Why would you do that?"
"No, silly!" She exclaimed, exasperated. "I learnt it from this machine here."
Puck ran a hand through his 'hawk. Thankful that his sister and mother weren't home yet, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She squealed as he did so, apparently believing that it was some sort of game. She tried to poke him in the ribs again but he evaded her, instead gripping her by the shoulders and forcing her to look at him.
"Stop it. You have to talk to me. What's your name?"
The girl paused and furrowed her eyebrows as if she were in deep thought. "Rachel Green," she said decidedly.
He groaned. "I guess you've been watching Friends, then, huh?"
"Yes," she replied, grinning. "How you doin'?"
He tried not to scoff as her terrible Joey impersonation. "What's your real name?"
"Rachel!"
He stared at her. Finally realising that he wasn't going to get any more out of her, he exhaled deeply. "Okay, Rachel it is… So, where do you live?"
She looked confused again. "I told you last night."
"The… ocean?" He asked, recalling how she'd pointed at his surfing pictures. "Don't be stupid. You don't live in the ocean."
"Well," she said almost sadly, "I guess I don't have a… home, then."
Puck, on some level, had guessed that this would happen. He wasn't going to desert this girl… this Rachel. If she had nowhere to stay, then he had promised himself that he wouldn't turn her away. "Yeah, you do," he told her, "You saved my life. This is your home."
She smiled brightly.
"Okay, uh… you gotta come with me, then. We have to get you some clothes."