(Author's note: now we go back to the beginning of 2x04 to see Puck's experience at Adventure Camp. News flash: it ain't pretty. -amy)

The drive to Oregon was long, almost twice as long as the drive to Santa Fe had been, but it wasn't the distance that made it challenging. It was the company. There were so many things Puck couldn't talk about with his dad. Too many times, he would bite his tongue on a comment about Adam or Kurt. He could talk about cooking, but that led inevitably back to Burt and Carole, and his dad would get sullen and quiet again.

He found himself changing the radio station a lot, hunting for music to fill the silences. His dad sounded exactly the way he remembered from his childhood, a little lower and raspier than his own voice, but otherwise surprisingly similar. When they sang harmony together, his dad smiled, so clearly pleased and satisfied by what he was hearing that Puck thought he might never want to do anything else with his dad again.

"That's real nice, Noah," his dad said after they'd finished the Eagles' "Already Gone."

"When I came out here in November, to Santa Fe, I stopped at every coffee house I could find and sang," he said. "Sometimes they fed me, but most of the time it was just… because I had to."

"I know just how that is," his dad said with feeling. "I spent a lot of years on the road between gigs. There wasn't any high better than that stage."

"You stopped, though."

"It was complicated."

"You could still do it?"

His dad made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Aw, I'm too old for that stuff now."

Puck wanted to tell him about Carl, how he was even older than him and still sang with Finn and Blaine, but that conversation was bound to go places he couldn't deal with. His relationship with Blaine was apparently now a thing of the past. He and Finn now had so much history that it was entirely possible conversations about him would start with skateboarding when we were eleven and end with handballing in Kurt's bed. And Adam… well, that was a whole realm of dangerous.

For the twentieth time, he regretted agreeing to let his dad put their phones away. On one level, it made sense. As his dad had said, a retreat should involve a certain amount of separation from the ordinary world. If he were checking in with Finn and Kurt and Burt and Carole and Sarah and Adam the whole time, how much of a retreat would it be? But at the same time, he couldn't help but think about the agreements he'd made with Adam and Kurt to talk to them every night while they were apart. What about Burt and Carole? And Lady Tess? Would they understand why he'd done this? On some level, he had an uneasy feeling he might be in a lot of trouble already, even if his dad had reported his absence.

"Maybe I should call home," he said when they stopped for lunch outside of Chicago.

His dad looked at him like he was crazy. "No way. Let me tell you something, Noah. You're on the road now. And when you're on the road, the old rules don't apply. You eat when you're hungry, you sleep when you're tired. You stop and look at the stars, and you don't give a flying fuck about what the ordinary people are doing. They're living the rat race, but you've escaped from all that." He took a bite of his sandwich and beamed at Puck. "This is the way God intended for us to live."

That actually sounded real good to Puck. He took a turn at the wheel while his dad took a nap in the passenger seat, wishing he had Adam's CD to play. He had all the songs memorized anyway, so he just turned off the radio and sang the whole album to himself, starting with Music Again and ending with Time for Miracles.

By that time, his dad was stretching and yawning. "Who'zat?"

"Adam," he said.

His dad nodded soberly, looking over at him. "The musician. Your Ma never liked it when I would hook up with other musicians."

Puck jerked his head to look at his dad, startled. "You —?"

"Everybody did it," he said. "Nobody cared much about who was already hooked up. Lots of groupies, threesomes, orgies. It was a free-for-all. I had girls coming out of my ears."

"Huh." Puck shook his head in wonder. "Sounds familiar."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Santana calls me a sex shark. Like, if I stop moving, I die."

"Santana. She's your girlfriend?"

"No. I don't really have a girlfriend." He thought about Nicole and Daphne and Alex in Santa Fe. It had been months since they'd talked. "Finn has one, though."

"He always seemed like a solid kid." His dad shook his head. "I gotta say, I was surprised to find out the two of you were messing around."

It's not messing around, he wanted to say. It's the most important thing I've ever had. He tried to think of something he could say that his dad would comprehend.

"He's as important to me as God is," he said.

Judging by his dad's pained expression, he'd said the wrong thing. He didn't bother to try to fix it; he just waited for his dad to offer something else. The truth wasn't going to change.

"You know that's wrong," his dad said. "What you're doing with Finn and Kurt."

He was a little surprised that his dad remembered Kurt's name. "I know."

"You do? You know that?" His dad was watching him closely.

"Yeah, I know you think so. I know Ethan and the rest of the guys think so. I know the Torah thinks so. Far as I know, Jesus doesn't have anything to say about it."

"That's not —" His dad scowled at him. "You know that's not what people think."

"I don't give a shit what people think," he said. "I'm the one who gets to live with me."

"It's between you and God," said his dad. "But you need to be sure you're doing the right thing."

Puck wasn't sure how to tell his dad he had no way of determining that alone, without Finn and Kurt and Adam. He just shrugged.

They stopped for dinner in Iowa. Puck wanted to tell his dad about the last time he'd driven through Iowa, after weeks at Tessera with Beth and Adam. Adam loves her like I do, he would say. She's my daughter, but she's his little girl, too. It seemed wrong, somehow, that his dad didn't understand this, but he wasn't sure he could find a way to make him understand.

They brought their guitars in with them to the hotel when they stopped for the night, east of Omaha. The two beds made him think about the hotel they'd had with Blaine, that first night Blaine had given in to his feelings for Finn. That had only been a month ago. It hadn't been nearly enough time. But if he thought too much about Blaine, he was going to cry, and he didn't want his dad to see that. His dad had always been clear with him that crying was a weakness.

"I sang a Neil Diamond song in Glee club," he said.

His dad was surprised again. "No shit."

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "Sweet Caroline, for Rachel. She's Finn's girlfriend. I wanted to impress her."

"You wanted to impress Finn's girlfriend?"

He had to laugh. "Yeah, but it wasn't about her at all. It was just, I wanted him to know I was noticing him. I wanted him to notice me."

His dad got his guitar out of the case and nodded slowly. "I guess it worked?"

"Nah, I had to hit him in the face to get him to notice me."

That made his dad laugh. "Okay? Maybe you should have sung him a song."

"I did that, too. That was later, though, after… after things were okay between us."

When he came out of the bathroom, his dad was doing some warm-ups, up and down the fret board, tiny portions of songs that recalled a hundred moments of his childhood. He got his own guitar out of the case and tuned up while he listened to his father sing:

Maybe it's been crazy
And maybe I'm to blame
But I put my heart above my head
We've been through it all
And you loved me just the same
And when you're not there
I just need to hear

Hello, my friend, hello
It's good to need you so
It's good to love you like I do
And to feel this way
When I hear you say, hello

"You sound the same," he told his dad. "The same as you did when I was little."

"I'm not, though. I'm not the same guy I was back then." His dad looked at him, his face solemn. "There's so many things I regret about how it was with your Ma. We were both so messed up. But that didn't mean we didn't love you. All three of you."

Puck didn't have a response to that. He strummed the riff from Cherry, Cherry, and they both started singing at the same time.

No, we won't tell a soul where we gone to
Girl, we do whatever we want to
Ah, I love the way that you do me
Cherry, babe, you really get to me

His dad led the music, mixing up Neil Diamond with a half-dozen other artists that Puck knew by heart. Puck sang along with every one, offering harmonies when appropriate. It was intoxicating. They were both laughing by the end of the set.

"That's some sweet sound, Noah." His dad gave him an admiring look. "You sing like that in your Glee club?"

"Sometimes. We do all kinds of music. Kurt —" He paused, watching his dad warily, but he nodded for Puck to go on. "Kurt likes musical theater. Finn does 80s rock. Adam does everything from 70s to contemporary stuff."

His dad nodded. "Meemee told me you went to see Gaga."

That was a surprise, too, not only that his dad knew about Gaga, but that Timmy had talked to him about it. "Yeah, I did. She was a lot cooler than I expected."

He went on strumming. "You sing to your guys?"

Puck nodded. It was weird to have his dad asking about these things. He wasn't sure if he should talk about it or not.

"When I… took off," he said hesitantly. "When Finn and I… when we had trouble. He listened to the Neil albums. But mostly we sing other stuff."

His dad nodded at him. "Sing me one. One of the songs you guys sing together."

It was the most challenging question he'd been asked all month. He didn't really know what would come out when he put his hands on the strings, but his dad listened quietly, watching his hands. By the second verse, he'd got it, and he was strumming along. By the third, he was harmonizing.

Pain from pearls, hey little girl,
How much have you grown?
Pain from pearls, hey little girl,
Flower for the ones you've known.
Are you on fire,
From the years?
What would you give for your
Kid fears?

They left out the Michael Stipe part, but Puck could hear Finn singing it in his head. It was Blaine's song, the one he sang with Carl and Finn at the coffeehouse, but it was also one of the songs that had sustained Finn when he'd been gone. He wondered if Finn was listening to it now.

"I don't want them to worry about me," he said, knowing it sounded anxious. But his dad just shook his head, smiling.

"They won't." He clapped Puck on the shoulder. "You're with your old man. I'm gonna take care of you."

It might have been the music talking, but in that moment, Puck could almost believe him.