Sun Gone Lost

Many things had changed in Puck's head over the past eight months of alternating between crippling paranoia and moments of reasonable normality, but one of the newer things he'd discovered was that he really, really hated public places. He didn't like being around so many people he didn't know, and he didn't feel comfortable out in the open, where his voices would shout more loudly in his ears and lurking murderers with long knives could strike at any time. The feeling of horrible vulnerability was not one that Puck had experienced in his old normal life, and so logically, he understood that it was a symptom of the disease, but it didn't change the fact that even when he was doing nothing more than taking the trash from the front door to the sidewalk, he felt an urge stronger than any he'd ever felt to go back into the house, preferably to a bright room where he could curl up with his notebook, be by himself, and pretend that he wasn't insane.

Unfortunately for him, his mother worked three jobs, and his little sister was completely smitten with him. This meant that he had very little time to himself, and even though his mom no longer expected him to babysit, Sarah didn't understand that being alone with him was potentially dangerous, and often would sit on his bed with him and chatter away about nothing, or lounge on the couch next to him and add to the ever-growing collection of knotted bracelets that she occupied much of her time with making (Puck's arm now sported five of them, in addition to the first one she'd ever made for him).

But today, Puck's mom had dragged Puck along with her to do the shopping, partly because Sarah wanted him to come with them and partly because his mom didn't really trust him to be in the house by himself (any demons he might percieve could potentially result in him setting the house on fire, not to mention the extensive collection of knives and other sharp objects in the kitchen), and now he was standing in the pasta and tomato sauce aisle and glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, keeping watch for anything that might appear threatening.

"Noah, would you stop fidgeting?" his mom snapped, dropping three boxes of mac n' cheese into the cart. "People are going to think you're on the lam."

Puck resorted to holding one arm around his chest and chewing the cuticles on the fingers of his opposite hand, staring vacantly at the scuffed linoleum floor.

Sarah bounded up to them then (startling Puck) with a bag of lollipops clutched in her hands. "Mom! Mom! Can we get this? Please?"

Ms. Puckerman sighed. "Come on, Sarah, put that back. How many times do I have to tell you? Candy's only for Halloween and Valentine's Day."

Sarah pouted and dropped the candy on the bottom shelf next to the lasanga, then glanced at her brother. "Noah, what are you looking at?"

"Noah," Ms. Puckerman said, raising her voice when Puck didn't respond. His eyes were following an invisible path across the top of the shelves. She gripped his shoulder tightly, forcing his attention back to reality. "Did you take your medication today?"

Puck shifted from foot to foot. "...Yeah."

"How come you have to take medicine all the time now?" Sarah asked. "It just makes you sleepy and boring."

"We've been over this, Sarah," Ms. Puckerman said, grabbing the cart to continue down the aisle. "Noah's sick and the medicine's making him better."

"It's taking a really long time," Sarah grumbled.

Ms. Puckerman stopped and turned around. "Noah!" she said. "Come on." Puck snapped out of his momentary trance and walked quickly to catch up with them. Sarah wound her fingers into his hand.

In the afternoon, Puck's second round of medication led to him curling up in bed and sleeping until just after sunset. When he woke, he found Sarah sitting cross-legged by his feet.

"Hi," she said when she noticed he was awake.

He only grunted in response, rolling over and shutting his eyes against the orange evening light falling through the window.

"Mom ordered pizza," Sarah announced, hoping to coax Puck to join in a conversation.

"I'm sleeping," he said into his pillow.

"You're always sleeping."

There were a few moments of silence, until Puck heard the rustling of a page being turned, and he pricked his eyes open to see what Sarah was reading. When he saw that it was his notebook resting on her knees, his reaction was instantaneous.

Sarah yelped as he lurched up and the back of his fist collided with her temple, knocking her off the bed. He was on his feet in seconds, looming over her with his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. Sarah was crying and clutching her head where he'd hit her. He reached down and roughly yanked her to her feet, his fingers digging into her arms so deeply that bruises began to quickly form under her skin. "Get out of my room," he snarled, tossing her towards the door. She screamed and fell again, but still made no move to leave.

Puck snatched his notebook up from where it had fallen on the floor and shoved it under his pillow. Sarah was still there. "God damn it, GET OUT!" He grabbed her by the back of her neck, dragging her into the hallway as she sobbed and tried to pry his fingers loose. Finally, in desperation, she reached up and scratched his forearm, scraping away a good layer of skin and drawing forth a small amount of blood. Puck flinched and let go, but kicked her legs, making her trip and tumble down the stairs, landing solidly on the hardwood floor at the bottom. She didn't move.

Puck turned around and went back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Will was in the middle of watching an evening Law & Order rerun when his phone rang in the kitchen. He put down his beer, muted the TV, and picked up the receiver on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Mr. Schue?"

"Puck?"

"Yeah."

Will's heart clenched a little, knowing that the only reason Puck would call was if something bad had happened. "Are you okay?"

There was silence on the other end for a few moments, but then Will picked up some background noise that sounded like a paging system at a public building. "Where are you?" he asked.

"At the hospital."

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I, uh..." Will could hear Puck's voice shaking a little. "I didn't know who else to call - Finn wasn't there, and Santana hung up on me, and-"

"Puck, it's okay," Will said gently. "Tell me what happened. If you want me to, I can come get you."

"I just- I did something, and now I don't know..." he trailed off.

"What did you do?"

There was a choking sound on the other end, and then a noise like Puck had smacked a wall in frustration.

"It's okay," Will repeated.

Puck inhaled a sharp, unsteady breath. "I hurt Sarah," he said, the words tumbling out so quickly that Will wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"Your sister?"

"And now my mom won't let me near her, and there's someone from Child Services here, and-" Puck hit the wall again.

Will sighed. "Puck, can you stay where you are until I can get there?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm on my way."