Author note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, very appreciated. To guest who made the comment about wishing she had warning about it being a "threesome" so she won't waste her time- it says in the description it's eventually Pezberry and Pucktanaberry. However, it is not exactly a "threesome" in that this isn't a smut story. There will be no sex. This is rather the story of three people forming an unconventional bond and relationship.
Noah Puckerman was not a guy that anyone, himself included, would classify as overly sensitive or emotional. He wasn't someone who knew what to do or say, most of the time, if someone was upset, and history had shown him that if he tried to say something to comfort them, it would inevitably be the wrong words. He was the guy who used to throw people into dumpsters, the guy that seduced girls and knocked them up, the guy that was too dumb to steal things without getting caught, the guy who was sent to juvie and had affairs with Lima's cougars. He was the guy that everyone knew was gonna stay in Lima forever, not making any more of himself before his deadbeat drunken father before him. And most of the time, Puck believed it of himself too.
But he wanted more. It was hard, almost impossible to try to be different than the guy everyone knew him to be, and most of the time he slipped up trying so hard not to be. But he had tried to do right by Quinn, after knocking her up, made it his business to help her out and try to be a dad to their daughter the best he knew to. He had grown fond of the other Glee kids, losers that they were, and even sort of admitted it sometimes; he would never let any of them come to harm if he could help it.
And that was what killed him now about what had happened to Santana and Rachel. His girl, and his fellow Jew, having to go through something so horrible, something that had messed them up so much they didn't' even act like the biting, sarcastic girl who had sashayed around the school, delighting in insulting everyone and behaving as if she were royalty, and the overly confident and demanding yet so very talented diva who had been focused on only her own future stardom. Had Puck not known Santana and Rachel before the shooting, he would never have thought that the shattered, shaken girls they were now had any connection at all to the ones they had been.
It was terrible to be with them every day and see how deeply they had been struck by what they had survived, how it had hurt them both to the core. Every day he watched them cling to each other, girls who had formerly seemed to have nothing but deep dislike and begrudging respect for each other's talent, now unable to let each other go and panicked at the thought of being separated for long periods. Every day he witnessed them shaking and sobbing when memories or reminders of what they had seen came up, unable to stay in the classroom or even sing. The fact that Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez refused to sing when given the chance said more clearly than any words could how far gone they were now. Every day Puck walked with them to class and often brought them home early, did his best to keep anyone away from them who wanted to bother them, either with good intentions or cruel ones, and he protected them from hearing others talk about the shooting or their new and rather puzzling behavior. He couldn't say he totally understood them himself, but he'd be damned if he'd let anyone else say anything negative about them.
Every day he held them both, often rocking or trying to sing them to sleep and waking them up from nightmares. Every day he felt more and more loving and protective towards them both, first Santana, then Rachel. He had always been attracted to Santana, but before now, she had been a friend and a "fuck buddy," someone to have fun with and then separate from as they both wanted. Now, he was pretty sure he was in love with her…but the weirdest thing was, he sort of thought he was starting to feel the same way about Rachel too. Was that even possible?
He didn't say anything about it. He just continued to be there for them both as much as he could, and when he began to feel the effect of it on himself, he still said nothing.
How ridiculous would it sound to say that Puck felt heavy every day now, as though there were weights dragging him down to the ground? How could he ever admit that when he held the girls after they had been crying or had to take them out of class and drive them home, he had to swallow repeatedly against lumps choking his own throat, blink back against hot tears in his eyes? How could he ever let anyone know that he was starting to feel that someone was watching him all the time, that he was always sitting by the exit and constantly looking around himself for danger? How could anyone ever understand that he barely slept anymore and was rarely hungry either, that he too had nightmares at night that made him awaken terrified for his own life?
He hadn't even been there. He hadn't been in the school or that classroom, and he hadn't seen anything except from some clips on the news. How could he ever admit to anyone that he, a grown man, almost, who hadn't been there at all, felt almost as frightened and beaten down by what had happened as the girls he was supposed to be comforting?
88
Everything was slowly changing, the school had better security, Rachel hadn't sung in almost three weeks, Kurt and Mercedes barely spoke to her now and were walking on eggshells around her in case they said the wrong thing. But that wasn't what she was worried about, she was worried about Puck. He had taken such great care of both Rachel and Santana and she began to wonder if he was as okay as he made himself out to be. Though as she sat there with Santana in her living room watching It's Complicated she tried not to be so distracted. She wanted Santana to know that she was there for her and there to keep her company and not be so distant.
Rachel focused on the movie then, with her phone sitting on the arm of the couch and pulled a blanket over both her and Santana.
"I um.. I think we should do something for Noah, thank him for helping us out and all that," she said after a few minutes of silence had passed between them.
Santana had been half dazing off, curled up beside Rachel. She is still spending extreme amounts of time with the other girl, as much as her parents and Rachel's will allow, and sometimes she devices ways to sneak in even more. But slowly she has started to spend almost as much time with Puck as well, and even to enjoy and want this. She herself had been thinking about him, wondering what he was up to and why she hadn't heard from him tonight, when Rachel spoke.
Lifting her head from Rachel's shoulder, she looked over at her, frowning. "Like what?"
Rachel was rubbing Santana's back gently and gave her a small shrug of her shoulders. "I'm not sure but he deserves some kind of thanks."
As she looked down at Santana she was struck by just how beautiful she looked in the dim light of the Berry household living room. She had developed feelings for Santana and perhaps it was all part of circumstance and what they had been through but she was choosing not to question it anymore.
Santana hasn't actually verbally thanked him often. She's not someone who uses words in that way very much; if anything, she uses body language and physical gestures of affection. She considers what Rachel is saying, agreeing with her with a shrug of her shoulders.
"I know what he'd want, probably a threesome or something," she snorted. Catching Rachel looking at her, a certain softness in her eyes, she raises her eyebrows. "What?"
Puck has no idea what the hell he's doing, thinking, or even feeling anymore. He's lost track of how many bottles he's gone through from his mother's hidden stash, but he's almost depleted her selection. Slumped back in the seat of his car, he took another swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drank noisily.
He had driven to a parking lot several blocks from his house, not wanting his sister to walk into his bedroom and see him doing this. Why he was doing this, he had no idea, no idea at all, except that he was tired. Tired and angry and sad, even scared, for himself, for his girls, for everyone and everything, and so damn sick of it.
He shouldn't feel like this. He had no right to, and he sure as hell couldn't tell anyone. But it was there all the same, and the only way he could think to get rid of it was to drink until he didn't feel it anymore. Now his head was throbbing lightly, his entire body seemed to buzz with adrenaline, and yet still the emotion was there.
How much more did he have to drink for it to go?
"Well we could always make out in front of him," Rachel said with a soft laugh.
She knew that Puck would be the typical guy and suggest a threesome and for some reason Rachel couldn't find herself to be completely disgusted by the idea like she might have been a couple months ago. She felt something for them both and even if she couldn't figure out what they were she knew there was something there.
"I um.. you're just.. stunning," Rachel admitted in a whisper.
She knew that a simple compliment such as that might push Santana away but she needed her to know that even if it wasn't a compliment she took to heart. Her mind was on Puck and on Santana, wondering how she could protect them both and thank them both for looking after her as much as they had.
Santana's eyebrows rose further, nearly touching her hairline, and she turned her head to look more fully at Rachel, pulling slightly apart from her. She isn't sure what the girl's angle is with the comment. Especially since she's wearing only Chapstick as far as makeup goes and her hair is messy, and she is wearing casual clothes. She looks down at herself again as though to make sure of this.
"I know I'm a hot bitch or whatever but…random?"
Her phone lights up, and she sees it out the corner of her eye but ignores it for now.
Rachel laughed at Santana's reaction and just shrugged.
"I like the natural look."
Sure Santana looked nice all the time but seeing her in a more natural state was something she admired more than when she had make up on and her hair done perfectly. This was a different side of Santana and she liked it. Before too long her own phone lit up and she frowned when she saw it was Puck. "Noah?" She asked after picking it up.
"You mean the "I'm hot, if you like a hot mess" look," Santana commented, rolling her eyes. She settles herself back against Rachel, gesturing impatiently towards the TV. "If you talk I miss stuff and then I talk to figure out what's going on and then we never know what's going on."
Her eyes flickered mild interest when Rachel receives the call from Puck, but this interest soon becomes a mixture of concern and jealousy when she overhears his loud, clearly intoxicated voice on the other line.
"Jewish…princess chick…I always kinda had a thing for your nose…it's so Jewish, you know? Don't ever let anyone ever say you're not hot again…'cause you totally are. I would make out with you again in a second 'cause your lips are pretty sweet too…"
"What the fuck, Puckerman? You know you're not talking to your GIRLFRIEND now, right, you know your girlfriend isn't Jewish and has a pretty normal nose?" she blurted, talking loudly enough that he can hear her in the receiver too.
"Lopezzz….my mamacita gorgeous-ita," he slurred in response. "Don't worry, enough of me to go around….we can totally share….we have been anyway, right?"
Santana looked at Rachel then, bothered. Puck hasn't partied or drank since the shooting that she knows of, and she hasn't heard of a party going on tonight. So what was up with him?
"Well you're definitely hot, you don't need me to tell you that," Rachel said with a teasing smile forming on her lips. Then she was captured by Puck's loud voice and the slight slur he had going on.
"Noah, where are you?" she asked, obviously concerned when both he and Santana had finished talking.
She had no clue what was going on with him but she knew she had to figure it out and she had to help him. There was no way she could ignore that pull that was telling her to go to him. Getting up off the couch she grabs her keys before holding her free hand out to Santana.
Santana is definitely intrigued by this. Is Rachel Berry FLIRTING with her?
She opens her mouth, about to ask as much, when she pays attention again to Puck's words. When Rachel stands up, holding out her hand to her, Santana is slow to catch on but grasps her hand, letting herself be pulled up.
"He's probably hiding in his own basement or something. Puckerman, why are you being a dumbass?"
"Am not, Lo- Pez-Dispenser," Puck disagreed, then laughed to himself, apparently amused at his own comment. "I'm in a parking lot, you know like where we first did it! Always take 'em by surprise!"
"Noah, don't be gross." Rachel said with a dramatic roll of her eyes as they reached her car and she jumped in. "Here, take my phone keep him talking."
She handed it over to Santana and started up the car.
"I'm a guy, that's our job," Puck protested, laughing again, but there's a strange, strained quality to it that makes Santana frown, quickening her steps towards the car. "We do the gross and we do it most!"
"Jesus he gets stupid when he's tanked," she mutters, shaking her head, but she does as Rachel asks, keeping him talking.
"What parking lot are you at? And no I'm not meeting you for a quickie or whatever other lame innuendo you're gonna try for, not that you're probably sober enough to get it up right now."
It took another several minutes before Puck had named his location accurately enough for them to get where he was at, and by then Santana's anger and irritation had been wholly weighed out by concern. She didn't know what he was doing, but it was obvious to her something was on his mind, that he was in some kind of pain…because he was acting basically exactly like she did, minus the tears, when she herself was drunk.
Rachel didn't pay much attention to much else outside of his location and sped off in that direction. She needed to get to him and help him out and was glad that she had thought to grab the water bottle she had sitting beside her in the living room. It didn't take long to get there and when she did she parked beside his truck and got up, climbing into the passengers side and immediately seeing all the bottles.
"Noah? What's going on?" she asked as she cupped his cheeks and made him look at her. There was a certain sadness in his eyes and then she began to realize that he was affected too. "We need to get you home."
Santana lingered behind Rachel, looking in as well, but not approaching Puck yet. Shaking her head, she felt her heart constrict for him with sudden sadness. "God, Puck…"
Puck's eyes were bright with suppressed feeling, his hands shaking slightly, and one remained clinched around a bottle as Rachel came inside with him. He didn't notice Santana behind her yet. He laughed at first, with no real humor in it, but when she touched his face, he swallowed, gripping the bottle even harder.
"Get me home…get YOU home… 's what I do. Supposed to do. You should have been home. Should have been HOME…s'pposed to be. Don't you know…s'pposed to be?"
"Shit," Santana whispered from behind Rachel, as it clicks what he's talking about. Slowly she eases into the truck behind Rachel, squeezing onto the seat
When Puck finally spoke and Santana squeezed into the truck with her Rachel carefully took the bottle from Puck's hand and sat it down before pulling both Santana and Puck in close.
"Let it out." she whispered as her thumb gently brushed beneath his eye while the rest of her hand cupped his cheek. "It shouldn't be you," she said firmly. "Never."
"I fucked up," Puck blurted, shaking his head against her hand. His jaw works, and he blinks several times, trying to hold back the tears now standing in his eyes. "I fucked up, always fuck up. Should be…no. Stop it."
He pushed lightly at her hand, but because he doesn't want to hurt her, even in his current state, not hard enough to really push her away.
"Stop…no. S'pposed to…you do this. Not me. You. S'pposed to be here for you and…help you. Fucked up. Fucked UP…" a rough sob escapes, and he pushes at her hand again.
Santana, close to Rachel, reaches for Puck's hand and pulls it from Rachel, squeezing it hard in hers. She exhales, saying nothing.
Rachel's heart broke for Puck, he had been doing such an amazing job looking after them but no one even them had noticed how much he was struggling too. Without giving it a second thought she pulled him into a tight hug while Santana held his hand and she gently rubbed his back. She didn't speak, there wasn't anything to say but she knew they needed to be there for him.
No one hugs Puck like this. Not for this reason or in this manner; not to provide comfort or support, but only to try to extract it from him. At first he stiffened up, entirely unused to this, but as Santana squeezed his hand and Rachel began to rub his back, he felt his muscles slowly relax, and before he could control it, the single sob that had come out earlier became a second, then a third. Without his own consent, he began to shake with dry, painful-sounding cries ripping from his throat, loud and harsh enough in their obvious pain that it would have mortified and shamed him, had he been sober enough to really get what was going on. Even in his intoxicated state he knows this is not what he thinks is right, this is not what he considers acceptable, and he continues to shake his head against Rachel's shoulder, sobbing out, "No, no. Fuck, no…"
Santana swallows, completely taken aback by this, her heart twisting hard in her chest. She had never really thought Puck capable of feeling this deeply or showing it, even when drunk, and isn't sure how to respond. But in this moment she has never felt more for him. She leans in, gently placing her hand on his neck and beginning to massage.
Rachel held Puck tightly to her, she had always known he was more emotional than he would ever admit and that he felt things more than anyone thought he did. But she hadn't expected this. Not by any means but now she could feel her heart shattering for him.
"We've got you." she whispered and kissed his temple without giving it much thought.
Santana lightly kneaded Puck's neck, her hand trailing down to squeeze his shoulders one by one as well, trying to work out some of the tension she is feeling in the muscles. She is frowning, a line forming between her eyebrows as she leans in on impulse to kiss the back of his neck, letting Rachel be the one to do the talking.
Puck weeps harshly for another minute or two, his considerably larger body shuddering against Rachel before he starts to calm down somewhat. By now he has wrapped one arm around her, and the other reaches out for Santana, trying to draw her in. She lets herself be pulled into him as Puck struggles to pull himself back together, clutching them both to him.
With both Rachel and Santana being held tightly to him, Rachel let him just hide against her as he relaxed a little.
"We're in this together." Rachel whispered. "The three of us," she added as her free arm wound around Santana.
Being tightly held by both Puck and Rachel, Santana tries to make her body as relaxed as she can, to transmit an unspoken encouragement for them to respond in kind. She kisses Puck's shoulder, rubbing her hand up and down his arm, still saying nothing. She has no idea what to say.
Eventually Puck too starts to relax, her grip on the girls loosening. He gives out a shuddering sigh, finally speaking. "Sorry. Shit…sorry."
Rachel relaxed in Puck's hold with her head resting against his shoulder and her eyes shut.
"Don't be sorry." She whispered before kissing his cheek. She knew he'd have a headache the following day but right now she just wanted to make sure he was alright and get him home safely.
It's Santana who finally breaks the silence. Breaking herself away from their hold of her gently, she nods her head at Rachel. "Can you drive your own car back? I'll drive this." Looking at Puck, she says to him, "You're staying with us tonight. Period."
"Absolutely." Rachel said and nodded in agreement. "Fight us on it and we'll still do it anyway," he said with a soft smile lighting up her features. "I'll meet you at the house."
Sliding out of the truck when Puck let go of her slender frame, she got into her own car and began the drive back home. Rachel turned the radio up to try and distract herself.
As Santana situates herself in the driver's seat, she reaches out with one hand to wrap her arm around Puck, drawing him against her shoulder. She keeps him there as she drives, rubbing her thumb over his skin, and ignoring the heaviness of his body slumped into hers.
When they pull into Rachel's house, she helps him out, her arm still wrapped around the waist. She takes him around the back of the house, not wanting her fathers to see him drunk and upset- a BOY in the house, no less. She isn't sure what they'll think of that.
Rachel went and met Santana and Puck at the back door. She had left her dads a note saying she would be back and they had already headed up to bed for the night but of course she knew that they would still be awake listening out for her to come home.
"Okay, so they know I'm home and think I've gone to bed so we need to be quiet," Rachel said softly while taking Puck's hand and leading them upstairs.
Puck lets himself be manipulated about by the two girls, in between them both as they guide him upstairs. Santana realizes the extent of the situation as they come into Rachel's room and she gently pushes him to sit on the bed, tugging off his shoes. Looking back at Rachel, she raises an eyebrow, asking if they were all going to sleep there for the night. It's not like she minds, but…isn't it a little weird? And what if her dads do come in tonight?
Up in her room Rachel grabs an extra pillow out of the closet and lays it where she assumes Puck will end up laying down on the bed.
"It's fine, they won't mind." She said softly while helping Puck to lay down once Santana had his shoes off and he was comfortable. "It's not like we're doing anything we shouldn't be anyway."
Santana shrugs at her, asking, "And just what is it we shouldn't be doing?" with a raised eyebrow, just to mess with her. Then she curls up to Puck, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head beneath his chin. She sees that his eyes are closed, his arm wrapping around her, and she waits to see whether Rachel will sandwich him or her.
"Anything involving clothes missing from bodies," Rachel said in a joking manner.
Rachel bit her lip, wanting to curl up behind Santana but feeling like Puck needed to be the one in the middle this time. Laying beside him she wrapped an arm around his waist and laced her fingers with Santana's for a little comfort for them both. "Get some sleep you two," she said after pulling the covers over the three of them.
"You're missing shoes, you badass you," Santana teases, but her voice is soft. She squeezes Rachel's hand, adjusting her head on Puck's chest, and listens to his heartbeat. His eyes are closed, his breathing somewhat congested but slowing, calm, and she too closes her eyes, her grip loosening in Rachel's grasp.
Rachel laughed softly and rolled her eyes.
"Gotta be a little daring," she said in return. With Puck relaxing between them she closed her eyes and remained nestled in against his side, listening to his breathing and letting herself be lulled into a light sleep.
Santana is last to fall asleep, and it is more of a doze. Several times she awakens and checks, heavy-lidded, to make sure Puck is still asleep and Rachel is in place, squeezing her hand to be sure before lying back she stops trying to sleep and just lies with her eyes closed, trying to keep her breathing even so as not to wake the others.
Rachel's hand unconsciously squeezes Santana's back each time she wakes up. In her light sleep she can hear Puck's even breathing right beside her and let's that allow her to rest even more. After a few hours passed she woke up only to see both Puck and Santana had their eyes closed still and gave Santana's hand a gentle squeeze before staring up at the roof of her bedroom getting lost in her own thoughts.
Santana's eyes open slowly, and she turns her head towards Rachel, checking her again. Seeing Rachel's eyes open now, she whispers to her, trying to make sure Puck won't awake. "Hi."
Rachel looked over at Santana when she heard her voice and offered her a small smile.
"Hey." She whispers while adjusting herself so she can see Santana a little better over Puck's sleeping form.
Santana reaches over Puck to touch Rachel's arm, lightly scrubbing her fingertips over the skin. She smiles back at Rachel faintly, still caressing her arm, before speaking again.
"He snores." She gives a faint laugh, but she sounds tired. For several minutes she is quiet before she speaks again, her hand tightening in Rachel's. "Rachel? I think I might sort of love him a little."
She doesn't mention, not now, that she feels the same way towards Rachel, that she is utterly confused by this.
Rachel laughed softly as Puck let out a snore right on cue.
"It's a little endearing," she murmured as she got lost in Santana's hand running along her arm, the touch so familiar and comforting but that same touch sparked something in her that always made her heart beat faster.
At Santana's admission she smiled softly and cuddled into Puck's side a little more. "You should tell him, it's easy to see he loves you."
"He does not," Santana replied, but the words are automatic, distracted.
She isn't really thinking about Puck loving her, or herself loving him. That's the way it's supposed to be, isn't it? She's supposed to date a guy, fall in love, and want to get married, and that's the end, though she did think at age sixteen was a bit young and lame.
But she was thinking now about Rachel. How Rachel was smiling at this, like she liked it, and how a prickle of unease was running down her spine. So did that mean that Rachel was glad?
She wanted to ask her, all of a sudden, if Rachel loved her. But how stupid was that? how the hell would that sound? Why did she even care?
Rachel had always tried to hide her emotions behind a smile, smile and walk through the fire. Make it out the other side and crumble when you're alone. That was what she had always told herself because she knew no one would understand how things affected her. Her dads had always been great but even then she couldn't explain to them just how alone and isolated she felt most of the time.
"It's easy to see he does, Santana."
"No he doesn't," Santana repeated, but she sounds even less convincing this time. Unconsciously she squeezes Rachel's hand, meeting her eyes. Something about the girl seems bothered or sad to her. "What? What are you thinking?"
When Santana repeated her words again Rachel knew she didn't believe herself. Squeezing Santana's hand back she sighs and shrugs a little, caught off guard by her question and isn't sure if she should be honest or think it over some more.
"I don't know, everything I guess."
"That's not an answer," Santana pointed out. She turned towards her a little more, half draped over Puck's rising and falling chest in her effort to be nearer to Rachel. "Tell me."
Rachel bit her lip nervously as she looked at Santana, she knew full well that if she was to come clean she could inevitably push Santana away.
"I don't want to lose you," she whispered, her words fast and running together.
Santana frowned, her expression softening. She thinks that Rachel must be thinking of the shooting, of death, literal loss of her, and she lowers her voice, stroking Rachel's arm again. "You won't lose me. I promise. We look out for each other. Puck too."
Rachel's eyes close as she tries to fight back the tears, she knew that admitting she had feelings for Santana could be the end of everything. She could easily end up without her or Puck there and be left in a world of darkness where nothing was the same and where she was left completely alone to deal with everything on her own.
"Not like that," she whispered. "I'm scared of losing.. this.. the gentle touches, the stolen glances and remembering how quickly my life changed when we kissed.. I'm scared of confessing how I really feel and losing you forever."
Her words were still rushed together but this time they were a little more clear.
Santana was slow to clue in to what Rachel really meant, maybe deliberately so. But when it hit her she sucked her breath in, feeling her eyes open wide in the darkness. She stares across Puck at her as she tries to force down the all too true realization that what Rachel is describing is the same for her too. Unable to think of what to say, she finally swallows, then says slowly, "And…how is it you feel?"
Rachel swallowed hard before letting her eyes connect with Santana's and taking a deep breath.
"I think I.. I'm.. falling for you."
The last three words came out rushed and shaky and she was certain that it would be the final straw that pushed Santana away for good.
Santana froze. A part of her had known and been waiting nearly with bated breath for those words, but to hear them spoken out loud…how could this be real? How did she feel about that? And why had part of her been waiting for this as though it were exactly what she wanted to hear?
No, this was wrong. WRONG. She didn't want to hear that from any girl, let alone Rachel. Especially Rachel. This was WRONG.
But even so, she couldn't quite bring herself to do anything to be harsh towards her, to hurt her, even as her brain screamed at her that she should, that the bitch Santana they had both once been so used to should come roaring back. Instead she slowly detached her hand from Rachel's, but didn't quite withdraw it back to herself, leaving the palm flat over Puck's stomach. She sucked in her breath, swallowing, and then shook her head, her voice coming out soft and shaky even to her own ears.
"You're…you're messing it all up. Stop it. Just stop it."
Flinching at the sound of her own voice, she tries to harden her tone, her expression, but it seems to be less steady than ever. "I don't…Rachel, I don't love you. Not like that."
But she sounds like she's lying even to herself. And she knows with sudden, sickening clarity that she is.
She does love Rachel. She loves her…she's falling in love with her. AND Puck.
This isn't happening. This isn't possible, isn't happening. But then why are there suddenly tears streaking down her cheeks? Why is she suddenly sniffling back sobs that can't seem to want to be contained?