This chapter was by far the hardest one to write, although I did have a lot of trouble with 'Makeup' as well. This story might be a little confusing though, conflicting emotions are very difficult to write about for me, so be prepared for that. Thanks for reading.

Alone

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? No one knows. You know why? Because anyone who has had the displeasure to witness such a catastrophe is mostly likely dead from watching it.

When Puck and Sabrina finally got together, when they finally grew up and realised that their feelings for each other ran deeper than just friendship, everyone just shook their heads in loving expectation, or stared in shocked horror, or bit down very hard on their palm. They all saw it coming, it was only a matter of time, they said, it was clear as day.

But who could predict what would follow after that first revelation? Who could foretell how those two immensely independent people would interact? No one did, and now they no longer can, because it hurts too much to talk about. Because who wants to talk about how they saw two people break each other?

...

They never went out much on dates. Puck could never think of any place good to go, and Sabrina didn't think they were that special, so they just stayed in.

But Daphne, always the romantic, disagreed completely and insisted they go on one. When they declined, she asked again, and still they refused. So she took the initiative to set up the date herself, with the help of Uncle Jake of course, and reserved them two seats at a local restaurant a few blocks down.

Giddy at the thought of free food, Puck thought, yeah why not, and flew out of the house, dragging a confused Sabrina with him. They returned a half hour later, grumbling darkly, and when Jake asked why they were home so early, all he got was a couple of furious glares, and a muttered "We got kicked out."

Later, he learnt that they got into a massive argument over who should pay, and that's when the first seed of doubt was planted in his mind.

...

"Fine!" he yelled, storming out of her room as his footsteps thumped loudly on the upstairs floor. He came downstairs, muttering curse words and threats under his breath, and made his way over to the kitchen, where he then proceeded to forcefully pull open the fridge door and start tearing out whatever he could say.

"Making a big deal out of nothing," he mutters angrily "didn't even do anything that bad."

"What are you doing?" someone said. He looked up in surprise and saw Veronica standing there, leaning against the doorframe with arms folded and a disapproving expression on her face.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" he snapped "I'm eating."

"Right," she said disbelievingly, "I believe the proper term you're looking for is 'absolutely demolishing the kitchen which I work very hard to keep tidy."

He looked down at the mess he had made, milk pooling in a puddle around his feet, and multicoloured chunks of food littered the floor.

"Whatever," he shrugged "you can make me clean it up later."

She walked over towards him, and snatched the packet of chips out of his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me Puck."

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I really need to answer that question?"

He shrugged, again. "Yeah, well, it's nothing."

"Puck tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Does it concern my daughter?"

He flinched, at her directness, and met her steely gaze "Why do you care?"

"Because if it does, than I have a right to get involved."

He snorted "Who gave you that right? Henry?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped to a low whisper "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he replied coolly, although the nervous glint in his eye exposed his fear "that you may act all strong and independent when it comes to fighting hobgoblins, but you're a sucker to that idiot husband of yours."

"Don't even go there."

"Remember New York? Remember how easily he persuaded you?" He was in his element now, as he vented his frustration out on this woman, sharp words with sharper meanings rolling off his tongue. "You think after that she still accepts you?"

"What do you know?!" she shouted suddenly, suddenly losing all composure "What do you know about her? I am her mother, get it? I love her, and I may have failed but God help me if I do that again!" She breathes heavily, pausing for a second. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter.

"I love her, and if she gives me a chance at raising her right again I'm going to bloody well take it. She's my daughter, Puck."

Puck was backed up against the counter, fear evident in his features as he saw this normally controlled woman bare her soul to him, and he had absolutely no idea what to do.

She coughed, brushed a hand over her eyes, and looked up at him, the fearless, calming gleam back in her eye. "That, is why I care Puck. That is why I have a right to know. I will be her mother, just as you will tell me right now what is going on."

He gulped again, and sighed heavily. "Alright fine. A couple days ago, as a prank, I dyed her hair green, which you should remember."

She nodded.

"Well," he continued "she decided to get some payback, so at night she snuck into my room and took Kraven, and drew a moustache on his face in sharpie. Naturally, that was totally out of line and it was completely uncalled for and..." He tailed off when he saw Veronica fold her arms again, and arch an eyebrow.

"Anyway," he said hastily "I may or may not have, in retaliation, lured her to my room and then had my monkeys throw water balloons at her."

She blinked, surprised. "That's it? But you've done that hundreds of times before."

"Yeah..." he replied nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand "except this time I might have told her that I wanted her to come up to my room so I could apologise, and that I was going to make it up to her. Also, I snuck a tarantula into Marshmallow's bed because she helped Sabrina get into my room, some magical key or something."

Veronica looked at him curiously, an expression of disbelief and shock on her face, and collapsed into a chair, mumbling quietly "Jesus Christ you're an idiot."

Puck frowned at that. "What? What did I do? I didn't even do anything that bad!"

She looked at him witheringly, and his gaze dropped "Do you have any idea what you have just done Puck?"

"Nothing." he muttered quietly, but quickly shut up when she glared at him again.

"No, not nothing. You lied to her. You gave her false hope, and then dashed it seconds after. AND, you hurt her sister."

"But it's not even like this is new territory! I've done it before!"

"Puck, you're her boyfriend now. Get it? You're dating her. And even if she won't admit it, even if she'll deny it constantly, she has higher expectations for you now, she's trying to convince herself that she did the right thing by telling you and you are honestly not helping. She's still a person Puck, she still has feelings and opinions."

"But still..." he whined persistently, although it lacked its usual conviction

"Look Puck, there are two things Sabrina cares about more than anything in the world: trust, and her sister. You just made complete shambles out of both of them. She's spent two years in constant paranoia, not knowing who to trust and not trust, all the while trying to protect her sister from the dangerous world she saw out there. She's matured very fast in those two years Puck, and the fact that she trusts you enough to actually start dating you means you have a huge responsibility to make it up to her. The fact that you just broke her trust and terrified her sister is not exactly screaming good job here."

He sighed. "I guess..." he tails off

"Talk to her." she said simply "Apologise. Tell her you're sorry and try to be a better person next time. She'll forgive you eventually, she won't give up that easily."

"Are you sure? Is there another way?"

She glares at him.

Sighing, he stood up, turning to walk out to his girlfriend's room. "Alright then. Thanks."

"No problem." she said breezily "But don't even think about doing this again. Got it?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes ma'am."

She picked up an apple from the fruit basket nearby and bit into it, making a shooing motion with her free hand. Hovering gently, he zoomed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

...

The maturity Puck displayed that day was incredibly rare, and it was the sheer rarity of this moment that transformed this experience from one that healed them, to one that ultimately poisoned them.

They tried, they really did, to keep their promise, but eventually that was broken, and they reverted back to their old ways. They fought, screamed, yelled, and made up. But when they made up, it was different to what it was like when Veronica talked to him. The ones after that lacked the contemplation, the reflection, the thought; it was all heat, and passion, and energy.

It was the outcome of desperate, desperate love, the burning desire to want to make it work out, but the sad conclusion that they knew it wouldn't. It was the fire inside them which made their arguments so much worse, so much more painful, but made their reconciliation that much more loving, and powerful. Even that changed though, and the past memory of Puck's one glimpse of compassion tainted it, rose her expectations to impossible heights, until finally the cons outweighed the pros, the low dragged far further than the highs, and they talked.

Finally.

He knew it was coming, and he wholeheartedly agreed, but that didn't mean he was happy about it. But then again, neither was she. They loved, loved each other intensely but their personalities were too incompatible, they were too stubborn for their own good, and it just wasn't going to happen.

"I'm sorry Puck."

"I'm sorry too Sabrina."

...

That night, they lay in their respective beds, and they began to consider, to wonder about how it could have happened, even though by then it was far too late. A single tear slid down their cheeks, and an overwhelming sense of regret pooled in their hearts.

Stop it, they thought furiously, you wanted this. You knew why you did, you knew it was the best thing to do. That relationship did nothing more than destroy us, it was the right thing to do. They fell asleep with thoughts like that whirling in their minds, to fitful and confusing dreams.

...

He left, one day, in the middle of the night, without so much as a note to alert the family. Of course everyone was concerned for his safety, but they all knew why he did it. He did it to get away, to flee, to escape from the person whom he both hurt and had been hurt by. It hadn't done anything though, only amplified the pain in which he felt.

He missed her, being so far away from her, confusion and disorder and chaos wreaking havoc on the delicate insides of his mind. He knew they had broken up, knew that they would never work out, but he loved her, and she loved him, and the knowledge of knowing that cut him even more, the potential of a relationship remaining forever unsatisfied.

So he came back, flew in an agitated fit of frenzy, through the multi-locked front door, and swept her up. And in that moment, he felt whole, but not whole, elated at being in her reach, in her touch, but despairing at the idea that they could never be together. She was in his arms, he was in her arms, and they were together.

So why did they feel so alone?

The ending is a little random I know, I hope it wasn't too unrealistic or sudden. I had to rewrite it like three times because it just didn't sound right and this one is probably the best one I could come up with. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review.