First, I apologize for taking so long to update! I never intended for it to take that long to get this out, so thank you for everyone who hung on! Second, the reviews continue to amaze me so thank you again for everyone who keeps leaving them! Anways, here's one of the last updates on this story, as its coming to a close in in about one to two chapters :(, but I hope you enjoy! Keep reading and reviewing, thanks again!
Quinn's eyes fluttered open slowly as the sound of thunder echoed outside, rain tapping against the window for the third day in a row. She'd been awoken by the feel of thudding in her back, rolling over to see Imogen smiling and cooing at the sight of her mother.
"Hey doll," Quinn whispered as she kissed the baby's forehead, taking her little hand in hers and playing with her, "Did you sleep good?" The baby just gurgled as she sucked on her fingers, Quinn noticing Puck's side of the bed was yet again empty.
It had been almost a week since the passing of Puck's dad, his father actually having been honest about his illness and losing his battle with colon cancer. Puck remained silent throughout all of it, not having spoken or done much in the past few days besides helping out with Imogen. Quinn had tried once or twice to talk with him and let him know she was there, Puck only nodding in response. He didn't sleep and he didn't eat, merely going through the actions of living but no part of him there whatsoever. She knew he felt guilt ridden about the last words he said to his father but he hid it, Quinn positive he had yet to even shed a tear.
She realized as she sat up that it was the morning of his funeral, something she hoped she wouldn't have to attend. She would be there in a second if Puck wanted her too, but she felt like a hypocrite going to pay her respects to a man she had so little for.
She picked up the baby while softly talking to her, kissing her lightly while playing with her. Quinn had just gotten her to smile when the door to the bedroom opened, Puck walking in slowly. He looked solemn as he raised his eyebrows in her direction, the gesture his sluggish new way of telling her hello. She watched as he made his way to his closet and began pulling out his suit and shoes, her stomach twisting a bit in guilt.
"Puck," she said cautiously while raising up a bit, "If you need me to go-or if you just want company-" He merely shook his head in response, throwing off his blue jeans clumsily while grabbing the slacks. Quinn softly laid the baby back down and snuggled her in with pillows, kissing her forehead before crawling towards Puck. She slid her knees underneath her and rested in front of him, reaching out and pulling his hand into hers.
"Puck," she said softly as she stared up at him, "I-I know that I don't understand what you're going through, but you have to talk to me." Puck avoided her eyes as he fidgeted with the tie in his hands, Quinn tugging him closer to get his attention.
"I'm here for you and you know that but you have to tell me how you feel, anything to just help me understand-"
"And what happened the last time you got me to open up?" he snapped angrily, "All your bull shit about letting my dad back in and look what happened!" Quinn was startled as she pulled away, frightened by his tone and hurt by his words. She knew that deep down he was just grieving but his comment had stung, Quinn's eyes welling up as she turned.
"I guess I deserve that," she said softly, feeling an odd pang of guilt.
"No, damn it, no you don't," Puck groaned as he reached for her, his chest aching as he saw her falling apart, "I'm just-I'm just going through…I didn't mean to take it out on you." Quinn nodded as he slumped down beside her, sighing while twisting the tie in his hands.
"I just can't believe he's gone," Puck mumbled while staring off, "My dad is dead and the last thing I told him was that I didn't love him."
"Puck you were angry," Quinn tried to reason, "And in that moment you had every right to say those things! Look at what happened, look at what he did-"
"Yeah, I know," Puck agreed while shifting his focus to Quinn, "Everything you're saying is right, which is why I feel so fucking torn." He sighed as he fumbled with his mouth, starting different sentences but unable to express how he felt.
"I meant what I said to him that day, every word of it. He had used and betrayed me, and almost drug me down with him. I had every right to be angry and let him know how I felt, but being right doesn't make the pain go away." She could see he was slowly beginning to open up to her just as he had done when his dad was entering the picture, Quinn now hoping Puck would do the same as his dad left it.
"Puck I understand you feel guilty-"
"Guilty? Guilty?" Puck asked as his voice grew louder, "Guilty doesn't begin to cover it. Im-I'm I don't even know alright? I wanna hate the son of a bitch for treating me that way and I wanna feel proud of myself for sticking up for my family, but then when I do I feel like an asshole because I shouldn't feel that way about the man. He's still my dad for Christ's sakes…he-I mean he was my dad." Quinn swore she saw his eyes glistening, Puck shoving his hand across his face and turning away.
"I can't do this today," he said frustrated, "I have to go, I have a speech to give."
"What?" Quinn asked in confusion, standing beside him as he fought with his tie.
"I have to-god damn it-get in front of a group of people I don't know," he bit out while looping the fabric into knots, "and say a bunch of pretty things about a man I didn't know." He jerked the tie off and slammed it on the dresser, Puck slowly losing control a little more and more.
"Puck," Quinn said tenderly as she grabbed the tie, "please listen to me for a second." She slid the garment around his neck and slowly began to fasten it, her voice remaining calm as she soothed him.
"I can't even begin to comprehend what you're going through. You're dealing with so many emotions and feelings that you can't even make heads or tails of it yourself , and right now you don't have. All you need to do is concentrate on grieving, on letting all that anger and sadness you have out. You can't keep it in here or you'll explode you hear me? So please, please talk to me or your mom, anyone, but don't hurt yourself anymore. You're at war with yourself and either way you lose." She folded the collar of his shirt down and pressed it softly, continuing to rub Puck's chest in order to slow his breathing.
" Now as far as your speech goes, no one expects you to get up there and gush about your dad. That would be a lie and you and everyone else would know it. All you have to do is get up there and tell the truth about who he was, the good and the bad and everything in between." Puck's face had finally flushed back to its normal color, his jaw no longer clenched and his fists unwound.
"Quinn will you come with me?" he asked quietly, reminding her of a small child as he mumbled. He looked so vulnerable and open, Quinn nodding immediately as she hugged him.
"Of course, of course I will," she answered in his ear, holding onto him tightly as if he would break when she let go. Quinn knew he didn't want to be pitied or felt sorry for, so she quickly turned to grab her cell and ask Mercedes to baby-sit.
"I'll change really quick and I'll meet you downstairs ok?" she called, Puck stepping back from the door to peck her cheek.
"Thank you," he murmured against her skin, turning again and heading downstairs. While Quinn hadn't wanted any part of this funeral she forced herself to suck it up and go, knowing for Puck she'd do anything.
Puck and Quinn pulled up to the cemetery, his mom and Charlie following behind. They all got out and headed to the gravesite, all four linking hands as they walked. The ground was still wet from the rain and Quinn could hear the thunder roll, the weather mimcking their current state of being. The foursome continued to slide through the slippery grass until they reach the site, Quinn noticing Puck eyeing the caskett hard. The crowd was small but nice, people instantly shaking Puck and his mom's hands when the arrived. Most of the people appeared to be past co-workers or old high school friends, neither of the two knowing them but nodding along politely.
The preacher finally gathered everyone together and people began filing into the plastic seats, Quinn never letting go of Puck's hand the entire time. They bowed their heads in prayer and the preacher said a few words about healing and moving on, finally calling on Puck for the final words. He gripped Quinn's hand tightly as he stood, glancing at her before walking in front of the casket. He took a moment before finding the right words, staring blankly at the ground before speaking lowly.
"My dad well, my dad was a lot of things," Puck said as he sighed, a few of the men in the row behind Quinn chuckling along in agreement, "And whether any of those things are good or bad, no matter what he'll always be my dad." Puck paused and Quinn saw him shake his head, knowing he was fighting back tears but continuing on.
"I remember being little and having my dad baby-sit," Puck said as he grinned a little, "See he always drove night shifts and mom worked the days, so instead of paying for pre-school I got daddy day care when he was home. We would sleep in really late and then eat Captain Crunch from the huge punch bowl, using mom's wooden spoons and making a total mess, but it didn't matter he would tell me, "Cause we're men." Quinn smiled a little as he spoke, never in her life having heard about his childhood like this.
"So there's this one day where he had just gotten back from a long drive and he was exhausted, basically threatening my life if I breathed too loudly. Well I decide to entertain myself, so I put on his old John Wayne movies and start shooting things with my bb gun. I'm taking out picture frames and mom's whatnots here and there, making the Duke proud until I hit a lamp. It busted right on the spot and shattered everywhere, the noise sounding like I had just busted every window in the house." Quinn could see Puck's mom in tears as she smiled, probably never even had heard his story until now.
"Well right then I knew, my ass was owned. I'm either getting beat for waking my dad up or beat for ruining my mom's lamp. I figured I could sweep it under the couch, no big deal, until I hear the bedroom door open and see my dad. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags under his eyes touched the ground, and he just had this look like, "It's over." So I'm standing there shaking in my cowboy boots and my sheriff badge, waiting for him to get the belt when he leans down and glares at me. I start apologizing and he jerks me towards him, grabbing my bb gun and saying, "Sorry don't get it done, Dude." He grins and starts chasing me around the living room, damaging just as much furniture as I did. Needless to say, we didn't tell mom about the lamps or ornaments." Puck was now wearing a grin as he spoke, Quinn in tears as she saw one hanging onto his eyelashes.
"Anyway, that day is how I remember my dad, despite everything. I think that's how he'd like me to remember him as, because I think that's who he wanted to be." Puck lingered for a moment as he looked at the casket, silently saying his last good bye before returning to his seat. Quinn placed her hand back into his and rested on his shoulder, the preacher offering a final prayer before dismissing them. The four of them sat as everyone else left, His mom and Charlie making one last visit to the casket while Quinn whispered to Puck.
"You're speech was incredible," she said as she kissed his cheek, "Really, you did him well."
"Yeah," Puck said as he stared into space, Quinn wishing she could crawl inside his mind. His mom and Charlie returned, informing the two they would be waiting back at the house and leaving them alone. Quinn was prepared to sit with Puck for as long as he needed despite the sprinkles of rain falling on her shoulder, surprised when he asked her to give him a moment.
"Sure," she said as she stood, pecking his forehead before leaving, "Take as long as you need." She turned and left as he stood up, walking towards the casket and watching as they prepared to lay him in the ground.
Despite all the pain and drama Puck had been through with his dad he felt an ache in his chest for where the man should be, still grasping with the way things had ended. Puck knew that eventually over time he would somehow find the closure he needed, finally able to accept his actions and his fathers death. Until that moment came though Puck knelt down and let the tears roll down his face, not in anger or guilt, blending in with the rain that poured down as he finally grieved for the loss of his father.
