Not Alone

Act 3

Puck woke up the first time while it was still dark out, his mouth dry and his whole body stiff and grimy. But someone else was there, behind him on the narrow bed, one long arm holding his bare chest close. Should have known his boy was gonna get clingy. Needing to turn, Puck shoved until he was on his back and Finn was sort of resting half-on him and half-off. Their legs were tangled together and Puck wondered if this was a one-time thing or not, because last night had been kind of ... good, if weird.

The second time Puck woke up, it was to the last two in a series of soft knocks and a shriek of surprise. The door closed again with a bang and Finn started, falling off the bed, his bare ass hitting the floor with a thud. Leaning over the side of the bed to grin at his friend (with benefits), Puck murmured, "Morning, dude. I think your mom saw us."

"No shit," Finn sighed, finding a pair of underwear that Puck was pretty sure he'd been wearing the night before and pulling them on. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a few very loud knocks silenced him.

"Finnegan Eric Hudson! Get dressed and get out here, right now!"

Puck grinned when Finn frowned at him, his embarrassment evident in the blush all over his face and neck. And holy crap! Was that a hickey on his neck? Puck didn't remember doing that, though he did tend to get a little bite-y during sex. Or whatever the hell that was last night.

"You too, Noah Caleb Puckerman!"

Finn mouthed "Caleb?" at Puck and he shrugged before getting up. He had no idea how Carole had found out his middle name, but he wasn't about to argue with her. Not after what she'd seen and the murderous tone in her voice. Digging around in the shopping bag at the foot of Finn's bed, Puck found his new clothes and pulled on something that wasn't his funeral suit, which Finn was probably gonna make him wear again, if they went through with the 'crash-Quinn's-funeral' plan.

Out in the living room, Carole leaned against the back of the couch, biting her thumbnail and obviously waiting for them. Taking a deep breath, with a worried look on her face, she said, "Boys…" and then faltered. After two more false starts, she said, "I … I know that you two have been friends forever and I know that sometimes things like this … happen…" Finn shot an uncomfortable look over to Puck, who shrugged. He had even less idea where the lady was going with this than her son did. "But… I guess I'm just surprised. And you're so young… And after all that's happened… But, if this is what you want… Just be safe…and," Finn looked like he was about to die of embarrassment, "I'd rather you kept clothes on while I'm around so I don't have to … but you're sixteen and … and legal, and … I love you … both."

Then, Carole Hudson pulled both boys into a hug that lasted about two seconds too long before she stepped back and nodded, "So, breakfast? I don't suppose either of you will be going to school today, but if I can't go to Quinn's funeral, I really have to get back to work, so I'll get some bagels going and-"

"We can handle it mom," Finn insisted, "you're going to be late if you don't leave soon."

"Well," she studied the two boy's faces for a long moment, as if assessing whether Puck would continue to ruin her son's precious innocence if she left. "Just, don't leave the kitchen in shambles. And if anyone gets … injured…don't be afraid or too embarrassed to call for help."

"Mom!" Finn complained, his blush flaring back to life all of a sudden. Puck supposed if he was in Carole's place, he'd be worried about his son's ass in Puck's presence, too.

"Have a good day, Mrs. H," he tried with a light, innocent smile. No need to remind her any more than usual how she had found them that morning.

"I'll…" she called as she escaped the house, "…bring home dinner. Be good."

As the two boys watched Finn's mom drive away, and almost hit a cat in the process, Puck started to chuckle. Uncontrollably.

"What?" Finn asked, hitting him on the arm as he made his way into the kitchen. "What's so funny, dude? My mom found us!"

"And gave you a sex talk!" Puck giggled gleefully, following his friend. "Or tried to!"

"Shut up, dude!" Finn complained, pulling a box of cereal out of a cupboard and setting it angrily on the counter. "I mean…" he sighed, finally looking up at Puck. Oh, here it comes, he thought. Finn was about to freak out. "I wanted to tell her about us a better way, you know?"

"Us?" Puck asked, shaking his head. "Don't …"

"Don't what?" Finn asked, looking back at Puck and taking half a step toward him.

"Don't freak out about this. Just…leave it, dude," he insisted, turning back down the hallway to gather his things and take a shower. He couldn't handle a freak out at that moment.

As Puck finished getting ready, he heard Finn talking to someone, "...us a block away? ... Yeah, that works. Thanks, Rachel … No, I know. It's just about … He's having a really hard time and … Well where's that Jesse dude? … See? So leave it ... Yeah. See you there."

"Swimfan trying to get in your pants, bro?" Puck asked, tucking in his shirt and finding his tie under the bed.

"No!" Finn insisted. "No. At least, I don't think… What do you think? I mean, she was pretty pissed when I broke up with her."

Crashing back onto the bed and sighing, Puck said, "Rachel wants you, bro. Like a fat dude wants cake."

"But…" Finn spluttered, sitting down next to his friend. Looking down at Puck, Finn asked, "What about…? Is this just for now?"

"Dunno," Puck whispered, pulling Finn down into a kiss. And he didn't know. He didn't want to think about a future without his mom and without Quinn and without the baby. And not thinking about the future meant he could kiss his best friend and not worry about what it might mean.

"Well, we can disguise Puck with this beard and Kurt's hat," Mercedes said, pushing the disguise at Puck despite Kurt's protest that he needed the hat to pull his outfit together. "But, Finn is more difficult. There's no one else as tall as he is."

"We could put him in Artie's chair," Mike suggested.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Artie asked, looking up and around at everyone.

"Matt and I will carry you. We can say your chair wouldn't fit in the car."

"Okay," Rachel agreed, handing Finn a pair of sunglasses and pulling him to lean down so she could wrap a big, fluffy scarf around his neck and face.

"But, we can't come in with you guys," Puck insisted. "Finn and I will wait a minute while you guys go in now. Otherwise they'll recognize us as part of the team."

"Genius," Artie nodded, taking Matt and Mike's shoulders so they could carry him between them. "We'll see you in there."

Finn sat down in the chair, looking up at him and grabbing one of Puck's hands to get his attention. "Are you okay, dude?" he asked. "I mean, this is gonna be hard for me, too. If you're not up to it, I can't drag you… I don't know if I'd go…"

"I'll take you, Finn," Puck said, getting behind the wheelchair and grabbing the handles. "We're doing this together. Giving our girl a kick-ass goodbye."

"Yeah," he nodded, and Puck could see a few darker wet spots on Rachel's scarf. "Let's do it."

Puck pushed Finn towards the church, leaning on the chair to help him keep walking forward. He wanted to go in. He wanted to say goodbye to Quinn and their baby. But he didn't want to face the reality that, just like his mom, she was really gone. He wasn't ever going to see her again. He wasn't ever going to kiss her or hold her again. He wasn't going to get to meet the baby. She was gone. Three generations of Puck's girls gone, just like that. If he was more like Finn, he would have been crying into his beard even before stepping into the church.

When he'd heard where the funeral was going to be held, Puck almost laughed. While she was alive and pregnant, a disgrace, Quinn's family wanted nothing to do with her. But now that she was dead and burned up, too damaged for anyone to see her face or her baby bump one last time, they brought her back into their family, throwing this funeral in the biggest church in Lima, filling it with expensive flowers and shit.

Everything about her parents' hypocrisy made Puck too angry to cry. So, he wheeled Finn into the church and parked him near the back, sitting next to his boy and discreetly taking his hand as everyone else got seated. The rest of the glee club sat up near the front, just a few rows back from the (open?) casket. Lena had told Puck that there was almost nothing left of his mother, so they had a closed casket at the funeral. Or, a closed pine box, because his mom wanted to be buried according to Jewish law. What the hell was sitting up front in place of Quinn's body?

"Good afternoon," a minister said from the pulpit, calling everyone's attention. He was a middle-aged guy with graying blonde hair and a black suit, and Puck hated him right off the bat. "Thank you for coming. Saying goodbye to a loved one is always difficult, but today we find ourselves in the tragic predicament of having to bid farewell to someone very young.

"Quinn Fabray was only sixteen years old when she perished three days ago. She willingly gave up her life to make sure a younger girl made it to safety, and so we honor her today not only as a tragically lost daughter and friend, but as a hero.

"As we offer her soul up to God's warm and forgiving embrace, we should keep in mind that while no one is perfect, and Quinn was guilty of a mistake or two, she was a good person and is surely looking down on us from heaven." Smiling out over the congregation, the minister paused for a moment before saying, "I'm told a few of Quinn's classmates would like to perform in her honor, and then we will hear from her parents and a few other speakers."

Tina stood up then, with Mercedes and Santana flanking her, with Kurt at the organ in the corner. Who knew that dude could play a freaking organ? The introduction lasted almost a minute, and then Tina opened her mouth, her clear, high, voice filling the church.

Ave Maria
Gratia plena
Dominus tecum
Benedicta tu in mulieribus
Et benedictus fructus ventris

The slow pace of the song made each word intense, especially when Santana and Mercedes layered their voices under Tina's. Puck had no idea what the song was about, but it sounded appropriately sad and beautiful. The last two months of her life, Quinn had been so sad. And so beautiful.

Tui, Jesus
Sancta Maria
Mater Dei
Ora pro nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae
Amen.

Puck knew he shouldn't be here. It was his fault Quinn got pregnant. It was his fault anyone ever found out that Finn wasn't the father. It was his fault he wasn't there to save her. It was his fault. All of it. And for some strange reason, only Quinn's family blamed him. Finn certainly didn't seem to, if the way he clutched Puck's hand tightly was any indication.

Fuck. Look at them. Just three days after his girlfriend died, Puck was already shacking up with someone else. It didn't really matter than he and Finn had been friends forever, and whatever was happening between them felt like it was just an extension of that. All that mattered was that Puck was a fucking idiot. And he was going to hell, even if Jews didn't believe in hell the way Quinn's parents obviously did. He deserved it. Punishment instead of reward. Maybe this thing with Finn was his punishment for all the wrongs he had done. A mixed blessing.

After the song ended, Quinn's dad got up and talked at length about her life, except for the pregnancy. He never mentioned that she'd been carrying a Puckling when she died. He wanted to rewrite history, didn't he? Remember his daughter as pure and good. Puck couldn't really blame him, except he wanted people to know he'd had a daughter, too. He wanted everyone to know that he hadn't just lost a girlfriend. He'd lost a child, and that sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen. Sure, Puck had never met her, but he'd felt connected to her ever since he'd found out about Quinn's pregnancy. He'd wanted to do right by her, provide for both of them, be the father his old man had never been.

It wasn't going to happen, now.

A while later, Rachel got up and sang along with a recorded instrumental track, drawing everyone's attention to her with the first few lines, at once soft and powerful.

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay.
There's always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day.

Puck recognized this song and as Rachel sang, he looked around the room, wondering if everyone felt a personal connection to the lyrics, like he did. There were lots of sad faces and plenty of tears, but how many of these people had actually known her? Five? Ten? It couldn't have been more than that. As popular as Quinn had been, she wasn't one to keep people, even her friends, too close. When his eyes finally landed on Finn, who was curled over on himself in the wheelchair, Rachel's scarf around his face almost soaked with tears, Puck wrapped his arm around Finn's shoulders as best he could and held on. This dude was definitely taking it personally.

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here.

Everyone was crying, even Rachel. Even Puck. He was glad for the fake beard his friends had stuck on him, because he was sure it hid every grimace and sob. He didn't mind faking tears if it let him get what he wanted, but Puck had discovered, again and again throughout his life and especially in the last three days, that real tears felt a million times worse.

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back.
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack.
Don't make no difference,
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness,

Oh, this glorious sadness,

That brings me to my knees.

Puck felt like his throat was going to escape through his mouth and his guts would slide out all over the floor for everyone to see and Quinn would be so mad at him for ruining her funeral. It fucking sucked.

You're in the arms of the angel.
May you find some comfort there.

As they waited in the line to see the body (which Puck had to investigate) and give their regrets to the Fabrays (which they wouldn't do without causing a hot damn mess), Puck leaned on Finn's wheelchair, wishing he could have been the one sitting there. His legs felt nervous and wobbly, like they might give out at any moment and join his stomach on the floor. It couldn't be Quinn in that casket. He'd seen the fire take down the whole building, he'd been there. There shouldn't have been enough left. It couldn't be her.

It wasn't.

"It's a fucking dummy," Puck growled at Finn, who was trying to see over the edge of the casket from his seated position. "A damn mannequin that looks nothing like her, except for the hair. They're not even here." Before he could help himself, Puck tore off his beard and pushed himself toward Mr. Fabray. "Where are they? What did you do with my girls? Because that?" he pointed to the casket, where Finn was hopping out of his chair to grab Puck's arm. "That's not her! I have a right to say goodbye to whatever's left!"

"Easy, dude," Finn said in his ear, grabbing Puck around the chest and almost picking him up to get him away from the Fabrays.

"That was my kid in there too, you know!" It was difficult to breathe through the tears, the snot, Finn's arms around his chest, and his swollen throat, so he could yell, but he did it. They deserved that much. "I don't even care if all I can say goodbye to is a fucking box. That's not them!"

"Someone get this kid out of here!" Mr. Fabray shouted and Puck lashed out, trying to wring that bastard's neck.

"You didn't even want her, you dick! You kicked her out because we made one mistake. Let me see them!"

But then a meaty hand bashed into Puck's cheekbone, blinding him for a few seconds and the glee club was dragging him out of the church, Artie back in his wheelchair and Finn without his scarf, hot lips whispering into Puck's ear, "It's gonna be okay, Noah. It's okay. Calm down. Please, bro. Please!"

Sitting together on the cold pavement outside the church, like they had when Finn first found Puck outside the smoldering building, the two boys held each other, surrounded by their friends. And then, like he didn't know what else to do, Finn started singing.

When the day is long and the night
The night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough
Of this life,
Well hang on.

Don't let yourself go
'Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts,
Sometimes.

Everyone else around Puck joined in, and there were no dry faces. Quinn might have been a bitch sometimes, but she was one of them. And Puck knew he and Finn weren't the only ones who had loved her, in some way.

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it's time to sing along.
When your day is night alone
(Hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go
(Hold on)
When you think you've had too much
Of this life,
Well hang on.

Don't throw your hand. Oh, no,
Don't throw your hand.
If you feel like you're alone, no, no,
No, you are not alone.

After whispering that last line, Finn kissed Puck, right in front of everyone, and he couldn't help but just let it happen, let himself fall into whatever the hell this was, let his friends sing to him, them letting Puck know they understood how none of it was fair and he'd lost more than anyone had in that fire (except for Mrs. Hensen, who had lost the eighteen cats that were her life) and they were there for him. Especially Finn.

When the quarterback flicked his tongue into Puck's mouth, Puck thought he heard Kurt complain, "That's not fair," but he didn't care about any of that. Everyone else was still singing, and once he pulled his mouth away from Finn's, hugging the boy to show he appreciated him, Puck let his voice join theirs. This was his time to say goodbye to Quinn, to his mother, to his baby, and this was his time to start a new life. One where he could be the guy his sister depended on. One where he could be whatever he was with Finn and be in glee club and on the football team and not care what anyone else thought.

Because really, after what had happened to his loved ones, how could anyone ragging on Puck for being whatever the fuck he was, hurt nearly as much as this did?

Everybody hurts.
No, no, no, no
You are not alone.

The End

Songs used:

"Ave Maria" – Franz Shubert

"Angel" – Sarah McLachlan

"Everybody Hurts" – R.E.M.

A/N: I was kind of depressed when I wrote this, if you can't tell, but it's been really cathartic to write. I hoped you liked it. Also, the part about a mannequin standing in for Quinn's body was based on a real funeral I went to. In high school, one of my classmates and neighbors, who I'd known from kindergarten and was friends with off and on, died when the car she was in crashed into a pond. She drowned, and that can't have been pretty, but when I saw a dummy in her place, I just about flipped out. It was just so much sadder than if they'd had a closed casket, and I could have remembered her like she was the last time I'd seen her – alive.

So, if you've read this one, please review! And please stop over at my older Puckurt, "Texts and Insanity" and give me a review so I can get that one up over the 300-review mark, which would be a first for me and stupendously awesome!

Thanks for reading!