Holding Tracy
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
Chapter 1: Love
Noah Puckerman lay in a hospital bed, the sterile white walls around him seeming to close in. The rhythmic beeping of machines filled the room, but all he could hear was the soft, desperate cry of Kurt's daughter, Tracy, calling out, "Nono! Nono!" The way she said his name broke his heart into a thousand pieces.
With a strained effort, Noah raised the head of his bed, his body aching as he did so. He reached out for Tracy, pulling her closer, his voice gentle but filled with raw emotion. "Nono is okay, Little Princess," he whispered, his hands trembling as he tucked her tiny body into his chest.
Blaine appeared at his side, his face drawn with worry but his eyes full of love as he handed Tracy over to Noah. "You were in a motorcycle accident, Puck," Blaine said quietly. "The only reason I'm here is that Cooper was in the car that hit you. I tried calling your mom and Sarah, but they wouldn't answer."
Noah's chest tightened, his throat burning as he looked at Tracy, her small hands gripping his shirt. "They saw me in bed with Karofsky... I was raped overseas, and I told him about it first. He told them everything, and I tried to tell them it was just us sleeping, but they wouldn't listen." He swallowed hard, the memories rushing back, but he forced himself to continue. "I saw Cooper's car coming and tried to slow down, but..."
Cooper wheeled himself into the room, his face pale but stoic. He parked himself at the foot of Noah's bed. "Don't worry, Puck," he said, his voice surprisingly soft. "Another car hit me after that. It was icy when we crashed. Your mom's here, and Mr. Hummel's talking to her. And Dave's dad, too."
The way Cooper said the word *talking* made both Blaine and Noah exchange a quick, knowing glance.
Just then, they heard Blaine's mother, Pamela, raise her voice from the hallway, her words sharp and full of fury. "You're okay with Kurt, Blaine, Dave, and both of Rachel's dads being homosexuals?! How can you not accept your son?"
Before Noah could react, he heard Norah, his mother, yell back, her voice filled with venom. "They're not my sons! You might be okay with your sons being sent to hell, but I'm not! Being gay is a sin and unforgivable!"
The argument escalated, voices clashing, until Santana's mom, Maribel, shouted over the commotion, "I can't believe you, Norah! How can you be so cruel? Kurt has been gay all his life! He didn't choose it!" She switched to Spanish, her voice full of frustration and a series of passionate words Noah couldn't understand.
Then, as the chaos continued, Burt walked into the room, followed by Kurt. Noah's heart skipped a beat when he noticed Kurt's head, shaved clean, just like Burt's. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Okay, who has cancer?"
Kurt smiled softly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at Tracy before answering, "Blaine does. I shaved my head after we got into an argument."
Tracy reached up and touched Noah's cheek, her tiny hand soft and warm against his skin. Noah smiled at her, his heart breaking for the little girl caught in the crossfire of so much pain.
Blaine then turned to Noah, his gaze steady. "Do you like Kurt?" he asked, his tone teasing but also sincere.
Noah looked at Kurt, their eyes locking, and he took Kurt's hand in his. He said nothing at first, letting the silence speak volumes between them. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice thick with emotion, "Yes... okay. He's your husband, Blaine, and I love him. I love Tracy too, and I want to be with Kurt." His voice trembled, but he kept going. "Look, I don't want to come between you two—"
Before he could finish, Kurt leaned in and kissed him, the kiss gentle, full of unspoken words and promises. Blaine, ever the jokester, chuckled. "Puck, I don't think that's gonna be a problem anymore. We sleep in separate rooms now."
The weeks passed. A week after the accident, when Noah was finally released from the hospital with a cast on one leg, he found Tracy waiting for him. As soon as she saw him, her face lit up, and she reached out, wanting him to hold her. From that moment on, Noah and Tracy were inseparable during the day. They shared every moment, every laugh, every tear.
Blaine's health continued to decline, and Dave stepped in as Blaine's live-in nurse. Kurt was grateful that, in the evenings, after Tracy fell asleep or after Kurt's family had left, the men could share some time alone. Dave and Noah had only shared a quiet, intimate moment once since the accident, and Noah found himself drawn closer to Kurt. They hadn't gone beyond kisses yet, but there was an undeniable connection between them.
Then came the day after Blaine's funeral. Tracy was staying with Burt and Carole, and when Kurt came home, he was met with a trail of rose petals leading to their bedroom. The sight made his heart race, but when he entered the room, he saw Noah lying on the bed, naked and looking incredibly tempting.
"You better not chicken out on me like you did with Matt and Santana," Kurt teased, a playful smirk on his lips. "I want a ride on Puckzilla before Tracy comes back with Dad and Carole."
Noah rolled his eyes but pulled Kurt onto his lap, silencing him with a kiss. "Shut up, and kiss me," Noah murmured, their lips meeting in a fervent kiss that felt like the world had finally come into alignment.
Later, as they lay together, Kurt in Noah's arms, both of them still breathing hard, Noah whispered, "I love you, Kurt."
Kurt, smiling through the sweat on his brow, whispered back, "I love you too."
Noah had slipped on his old football jersey over Kurt's head, followed by his boxers and sweats, and then took a photo of them, the picture perfect in its simplicity. He uploaded it to Facebook, where Sarah was the first to comment, her words filled with both concern and care.
"Sarah likes it," Kurt commented softly, reading over Noah's shoulder. "And Mom... She's not going to let go of this."
Before Noah could react, his phone buzzed with a message from Sarah. "Mom's still not over Puck being gay. She's been trying to turn Beth against us, but I'll handle her. And Mr. H, PM me, please!"
Later, things took a darker turn when Noah filmed a response to his mother's relentless harassment, and he sent it to Norah with the harshest of words: "See you in Hell, Norah." It was a decision he knew would hurt, but at that moment, he didn't care. He couldn't care anymore.
Norah called almost immediately, but Kurt answered. His voice was strong, unwavering. "I know about your harassment, Norah. Carole recognized your number. If you call Puck or my dad again, you better be ready to apologize. You think Puck asked to be raped? He didn't. And you have no right to treat us like this. Do you think I chose to be gay?"
Kurt's anger grew as he continued, his voice shaking. "And how dare you threaten Tracy's life. She's just a baby!" He slammed the phone down, his face wet with tears, but Noah was right there beside him, his arms around him, holding him close.
Weeks later, Tracy was in a coma after Norah ran her over. She was in the same hospital room as Norah, who had also been in a coma for weeks after the crash. The doctor had warned that Tracy might be in a wheelchair for life, but they remained hopeful. Noah stayed by Tracy's side, never leaving her, wanting to make sure she was the first thing Norah would see when she woke up.
When Norah finally did wake up two weeks later, Sarah was in the room. She spoke softly but firmly. "Killing Tracy won't make Puck straight, Mom. It won't change what happened. If you'd just accepted Puck, none of this would've happened." Sarah's words were powerful, but they seemed to have little effect on Norah, who could only stare at Tracy.
Tracy woke a month later, and with tears in her eyes, she asked Artie a question that broke Noah's heart: "Uncle Artie, how long?"
Artie looked at Noah before answering softly, "Twenty years."
Tracy broke down in Noah's arms, her sobs heart-wrenching. But Noah whispered the words that she needed to hear: "Nobody will tease my little princess."
And as Tracy fell asleep in his arms, Noah whispered again, "I love you, Tracy."
When Tracy woke up, the soft hum of the hospital machines was the first thing she heard, steady and constant. Her head felt heavy, and as she slowly opened her eyes, she realized she was still cradled in Noah's arms. His warmth surrounded her, his familiar scent comforting as she shifted slightly, still disoriented from the long, restless days in a coma. His face was close, but he was asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. For a moment, Tracy just stayed there, taking in the safety of his presence, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her.
She shifted slightly in his arms, trying not to disturb him, but her movement caused him to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and a soft smile crossed his lips when he saw she was awake.
"Hey, Little Princess," he whispered, his voice rough but filled with love. "You're okay. You're safe now."
Tracy didn't say anything at first. She just snuggled closer to him, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. She wasn't sure what to feel or what to say. So much had changed, and she wasn't sure how to process it all. But having Noah there, his arms around her, made everything feel a little more bearable.
Noah carefully moved to sit up, shifting Tracy into his lap. Her legs felt heavy, the weight of the injury still a constant reminder of how much had changed, how much her world had shifted. But she didn't mind. She had her Papa Nono, and he made everything a little easier to handle.
Before they could say much else, they heard the sound of a door opening from outside the room, followed by a voice—a voice Tracy knew all too well—raising in angry, passionate tones.
"Love has no gender, and Puck is still your son!" Quinn's voice rang out, sharp with frustration.
Tracy stiffened in Noah's arms, instinctively clutching onto him tighter. She looked up at him with wide eyes as if asking him for reassurance. Noah gave her a gentle smile, though his face was full of concern.
"Don't worry, Tracy," he whispered. "I've got you." He kissed the top of her head before carefully shifting her into Artie's lap, where he had already positioned himself beside her hospital bed.
Artie's arms were strong and steady, and he immediately wrapped them around her, holding her close. But as Artie adjusted her, Tracy couldn't help but notice the tension in the air—the anxiety that had settled over the room like a thick fog. Quinn's words echoed in the background, her voice ringing with both anger and truth.
Tracy looked up at Artie, her eyes filled with an innocence that could only come from someone who had been through something no one should ever have to experience. "Do you ever get mad at God for letting this happen to you, Uncle Artie?" she asked quietly, her voice soft but filled with curiosity and the kind of honesty that only children possess.
Artie was silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful as he looked at Tina. He then turned his gaze back to Tracy, offering her a soft, knowing smile. "Sometimes," he admitted, his voice steady but laced with emotion. "Sometimes, I do. It's hard. It's really hard, Tracy. But," he paused, his hand gently resting on her shoulder, "friends like your Papa Nono and people who love me... they help me deal with it. They remind me that life is still worth living, even when it feels impossible."
Tracy nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure what Artie meant. The sadness that clouded her thoughts only deepened as she tried to understand, but Noah's steady presence beside her kept her grounded, reminded her she wasn't alone in this world.
Quinn's voice continued to rise in the background, but Artie seemed unphased by the intensity of the argument, his attention focused entirely on Tracy, his smile warm as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"You know," Artie continued, his voice quieter now, "life doesn't always go the way we want it to. But that doesn't mean it's over. It just means we have to find a new way of living. You'll figure it out, Tracy. You're strong, just like your Papa Nono."
Tracy sniffled softly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but she could feel the weight of everything pressing down on her. The idea of being in a wheelchair forever, the fear of being different, the uncertainty of her future—all of it made her feel so small.
But Artie was right. She had people who loved her. Papa Nono, and even Quinn, despite her fiery temper, would always be there. She had her family, and no matter what happened, she wasn't truly alone.
Tracy looked up at Artie again, her gaze firming with a new resolve. "I'll be okay, right? I won't always feel like this?"
Artie nodded slowly, his smile softening. "You will be, Tracy. It's not going to be easy, but you have everything you need to get through this." He paused for a bit, his expression serious but warm. "And remember, you don't have to do it alone."
Noah, who had been silently watching the exchange, gave Tracy a gentle squeeze. "You're going to be amazing, Tracy. We're all here for you."
Tracy smiled through her tears, feeling a little lighter than she had in days. Maybe things wouldn't be the same, but with Noah, Artie, and the rest of her family by her side, she could face whatever came next.
And as the conversation in the other room raged on, with Quinn and Norah still exchanging harsh words, Tracy closed her eyes for a moment, comforted by the unspoken promises of love and support that surrounded her. No matter what life threw her way, she would never be without a family who cared for her—no matter how imperfect they all were.
The days following Tracy's hospital discharge were filled with a whirlwind of physical therapy, doctor's appointments, and the slow but steady process of adjusting to her new reality. At first, Tracy had been hesitant, unsure about what her body could handle. But with each passing day, her muscles grew a little stronger, her mind a little more determined.
Her first physical therapy session was a humbling experience.
The sterile smell of the therapy room made Tracy nervous as she wheeled in, the cold, white walls reflecting her anxiety. She was helped into a chair beside a treadmill. The sight of it made her stomach flip. The idea of walking again seemed impossible, a goal far out of reach. But she had seen people do it before. She had heard of people who defied the odds. Still, the uncertainty clawed at her heart, her eyes trained on the smooth rubber surface of the treadmill in front of her.
Noah, as always, was right by her side. He didn't say much, but he didn't need to. His presence was enough. He had been angry—no, furious—since the accident. Not just because of what happened to Tracy but because of his estranged relationship with his mother, Norah. She hadn't been around much during the long hospital stays, and every time Noah saw her, his anger flared. He hadn't forgiven her for abandoning him three months ago, and now, with Tracy needing him, that resentment only festered more.
But he had Tracy. And that was what mattered.
"Let's start with some stretching," the therapist said, guiding Tracy through gentle movements that made her feel vulnerable and exposed. The pain was a constant companion, but with each stretch, her body seemed to remember how to fight back. Her fingers clenched around the armrests of her chair as she worked through each motion.
Noah stood behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders for support. "You're doing great, Trace," he murmured. He wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
The session ended with a new determination in Tracy's eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could get through this. But as she left the therapy room, she couldn't shake the lingering feeling of vulnerability. No matter how strong she felt during therapy, the outside world was a different beast altogether.
The next day, Tracy sat in the cafeteria at school, her eyes focused on the tray in front of her. She had been nervous about returning to class—about facing the stares, the whispers, the pity. But it wasn't the pity that stung the most. It was the cruelty.
A group of students gathered at the table next to hers, their laughter high-pitched and insincere.
"Hey, look at Tracy," one of the boys sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Guess she'll be rolling through life now, huh?"
The others chuckled, exchanging glances like they'd made some brilliant joke.
Tracy's face burned with shame, but she didn't look up. She didn't want them to see her tears. She had promised Noah she wouldn't cry in front of anyone.
"I heard she won't even be able to walk again," another girl added, her voice laced with spite. "I guess that's what happens when you try to be a hero, huh? You get left behind."
Tracy gripped the edge of her tray so hard her fingers turned white. Every insult felt like a slap to the face. She wished the floor would swallow her whole, that she could disappear from their cruel words. But instead, she did what she always did—she stayed silent, keeping her head down and her heart locked away.
After a moment, the voices began to fade as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. The students scattered, leaving Tracy to sit in the oppressive silence, her heart heavy.
That afternoon, Noah was waiting for her in the hallway when the final bell rang. His usual stern expression softened when he saw Tracy approaching. He could tell something had happened, something was weighing on her, but he didn't ask. He just opened his arms, silently offering her the comfort she needed.
"I don't want to go back to school," Tracy whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "The kids... they keep making fun of me."
Noah's jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides. "I'm going to make sure those kids know they messed with the wrong girl."
"I don't want you to fight them, Papa Nono," Tracy said quickly, lifting her head to look him in the eye. "I just want it to stop. I want to be... normal again."
Noah's expression softened as he knelt to her level. "You're already normal, kiddo. You've always been normal. And you don't need to prove anything to anyone. But I promise you, those kids won't get away with it. No one messes with my family."
Tracy nodded, feeling a little better as Noah's words wrapped around her like a shield. She knew he would never let anyone hurt her, even if it meant going to war with every person who ever made her feel less than.
That night, as Noah sat in his and Kurt's bedroom, staring at the phone in his hand, the weight of his anger towards Norah felt heavier than ever. He had tried, for Tracy's sake, to ignore her absence during the hospital stay. But every time he thought of her—of the way she had cut him out of her life, of what she did to Tracy—it fueled the fire that raged inside him.
He punched the pillow, his frustration boiling over. Norah had shown up at the hospital, but only once, only to lecture him about "being gay." He wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive her.
Noah's thoughts drifted back to Tracy. Her bravery, her strength—it was something he admired more than anything. He would protect her from anything, even if it meant facing his demons head-on.
With a deep breath, Noah dialed Norah's number. The phone rang, then went to voicemail. His hand trembled as he left a message.
"I'm not doing this for you," he said, his voice steady but filled with years of resentment. "But Tracy needs you. She's going through a lot, and if you want to be part of our life, you'd better start acting like it and realize I am still your son, my being gay doesn't change that. We deserve more than what you've done to us."
He hung up, his mind heavy with uncertainty. But the one thing Noah knew for sure was that he wasn't going to let Tracy suffer alone. Not ever.
The next few days were a blur of emotions for everyone, but especially for Tracy. She was adjusting to her new life, slowly but surely, and despite the physical pain, it was the emotional scars that were proving the hardest to heal. It wasn't just the bullying at school, though that certainly stung. It wasn't just the challenge of physical therapy, though it felt like an insurmountable mountain some days. It was the silence between Noah and his mother, the unresolved tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever Norah's name was brought up.
Tracy could see how much Noah was hurting. She could feel the weight of his anger, the frustration he tried so hard to mask with a tough exterior. It broke her heart to see him like that—so at odds with someone who should have been there for him, for them both.
And then, just when things seemed to be at their worst, Artie came to visit her after school, a slight look of concern on his face. Kurt had called him to vent, clearly upset about the bullying Tracy had been facing. Artie's heart ached for her, and he didn't want her to feel like she was facing this alone. He had promised her he'd always be there, just as Noah had.
When he arrived, the door creaked open softly, and Artie's steady voice filled the room. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted, his tone gentle. Tracy was sitting by the window in her wheelchair, staring out at the gray sky. It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right, but hearing Artie's voice lifted her spirits a little.
Without a word, Artie crossed the room and sat down next to her. He didn't try to say anything profound, just sat with her for a moment. Tracy leaned into him, seeking the comfort that only someone who truly understood could provide.
"You okay?" Artie asked, his voice quiet but full of care.
Tracy didn't immediately answer. Instead, she just shook her head. She felt small, fragile, and for the first time in a long while, scared. Her world had been upended, and no matter how much love and support she had, it felt like there were so many things she couldn't control. The kids at school, the whispers, the laughter—it made her want to disappear, to never face another day of their judgment.
"I don't know if I can do it," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know if I can go back there."
Artie sighed softly, pulling her in closer. "I know, Tracy. It's tough. But you're stronger than you think. And you've got a family who loves you. We all do." He held her a little tighter, feeling the weight of everything she was going through.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Noah appeared, his eyes softer than they had been in days. His expression was filled with something that Tracy hadn't seen in a while—understanding.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I wish I could change things, but I can't."
Tracy looked up at him, her heart swelling with relief. "It's not your fault," she whispered, her small hand reaching out to him. "I know you're mad at her, but you don't have to do this alone, either."
Noah nodded, the weight of everything that had happened in the past few weeks crashing down on him. "I don't want you to feel like you're fighting this alone," he said, his voice hoarse with unspoken emotion.
Artie watched the exchange, his heart breaking for both of them. It wasn't easy, this road they were on. But what mattered was they had each other.
As Noah sat beside Tracy, gently pulling her into his arms, Artie stayed close, the unspoken promise in his presence clear—he wasn't going anywhere.
"Tomorrow's a new day," Artie said softly. "And no matter what happens, we'll get through it. Together."
Tracy nodded, tears welling in her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Together," she repeated.
And for the first time in a long time, Tracy felt a flicker of hope ignite deep within her. Maybe she couldn't change the world, but with the people who loved her by her side, she could face whatever came next.
The road ahead wasn't going to be easy, but with her family, she knew she could make it through anything.
Chapter 2 will be up soon.