Rachel/Puck- Hope Leaves You To Bleed
Title: Hope Leaves You To Bleed
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Rachel/Puck, appearance by the rest of New Directions
Rating: R
Word Count: 6, 876
Summary: Puck is on a Birthright trip to Israel when a bomb goes off.
Author's Notes: Written for this prompt at glee-angst-meme
It’s been two years since Rachel Berry graduated from McKinley high school and there she stands, in the middle of the choir room, in the middle of July, laughing at something Brittany said. The summer immediately following graduation had been a hectic summer for everyone who had gotten a diploma. They were all busy preparing for their lives after high school, packing for college or simply to move, packing up their lives to go and be somewhere else. But the following summer, after everyone came back to Lima during their break from school, they had all gotten together as often as they could, hung out in people’s living rooms and backyards, laughed and sang, acted like they were still in the glee club which sounded a bit off but it was fun for them, to act like nothing had changed. And that had given Mr. Schue an idea.
This summer was different. He had spoken to Principal Figgins and had worked out a way for them to use the music room during the summer, almost like that original group from New Directions was back together, if only for a short period of time. So, when her sophomore year of college was wrapping up she knew she’d be going back to Lima to reconnect with everyone she had gotten close to during her time in the glee club. She knew, however, that not everyone would be there. She was the only one privy to that information when coming back to Lima though.
Eight months before the break started Rachel had gotten a surprise visit from someone she had graduated with. She had seen Santana and Kurt plenty of times since they moved to New York, and she had seen Quinn a few times after graduating, but she hadn’t really seen anyone else. At least not while she was living in New York. When she went home to Lima she would see people. But not in New York. And then she got a knock on her door around ten in the evening and she made her way across her tiny little apartment to find the one person on the other side of the door she hadn’t really ever thought she’d see standing there. With a cocky smirk on his face Noah Puckerman had leaned against the doorframe and asked her if she was going to let him into her apartment or not. To say she was surprised would be an understatement.
It turned out that California hadn’t exactly gone the way he had hoped it would so he hightailed it to New York City. He didn’t really have a place to stay just yet, but he hadn’t been stopping by to ask for a place to stay. He said he just wanted to see how she was doing in that big old city without all of her friends from back home with her every day, without her dads around to spend time with her every night if she got lonely. She made him stay, however, at least for a little bit while he looked for a more permanent living situation. And so Noah Puckerman took over her couch like she bought it just for him, turned it into a makeshift bed.
It took some getting used to at first, having him in her apartment day in and day out. She wasn’t used to getting up in the morning and having him sitting at her kitchen table. The first few times it got pretty awkward because she’d make her way down the hall still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and there he’d be, sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, wearing nothing but whatever underwear he wore when he went to bed that night. It was jarring to see him sitting there almost naked first thing in the morning and he didn’t seem to find it strange at all. He just waved his hand towards the counter and told her that there was fresh coffee waiting for her if she needed it- or wanted it.
Eventually she got him to at least put pants on when he was going to be out in the kitchen. She rarely left her room at night except to go to the bathroom so if he wanted to sleep practically naked it was of no bother to her. She just preferred he wear something more than just his underwear when he was in the kitchen. So he eventually put some pants on before heading in there. It took a few days before she got him to do that. And it took a few days more for him to really start looking for a place to stay beside her couch. But part of it was really nice. Because she had someone to keep her company, yes. But she also had someone who made coffee in the morning before she woke up; she had someone she could share meals with when she didn’t feel like eating all by herself. It was nice to have someone else there to talk to.
Somehow, over time, as she spent more nights and more mornings with Puck in her apartment her feelings towards him began to change. She had always been a bit attracted to him, she wouldn’t deny that one. How couldn’t she be attracted to him? He was a rather good-looking man and had a certain charm to him that was undeniable. But she had always considered him as sort of her friend and nothing more than that. She had always felt her heart and future seemed to lie with Finn Hudson. But she and Finn had been apart for a few years already and then what she felt towards Puck changed. Her attraction to him became stronger. She found herself laughing at things she hadn’t expected to ever find funny; she found herself jealous the few times they went out to clubs together and he was flirting with other girls. It was strange; it was new; it wasn’t something she ever thought would happen. But she found herself caring more and more about Puck with each passing day.
Apparently, somehow, Puck ended up feeling something more for her than pure friendship. Because a couple of weeks after he got there, after he showed up at her doorway he asked her out. He did it pretty casually while they were sitting at the kitchen table having lunch. He didn’t even really look up at her. He just kept on eating and asked her if she wanted to go out with him sometime. For a few moments she just sat there looking at him and after a moment she agreed to go out with him. Things went pretty expectedly after that. He kept on spending time there in her apartment. They went out on dates and sometimes he’d spend the night on her couch again early on in their sort of relationship or whatever it was. She wasn’t sure what to call it at first. But things developed where she supposed she could say he was her boyfriend. But they didn’t tell anyone about them. It wasn’t because they were ashamed of their relationship or anything. It was simply because they didn’t see any reason to tell others.
About a month before they were going to be heading back to Lima for the summer so they could spend time with their friends from McKinley the two of them were sitting in Rachel’s kitchen and Puck told her he wasn’t going to be going back with her to Lima, that he had other plans. She sat there for a long while just looking at him like she was waiting for him to start laughing, to tell her he was just kidding, that he was playing games with her but he was dead serious. She could tell that much. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what he meant and then, after a while, he heaved a heavy sigh and told her that he was going on a trip to Israel, a Birthright trip which struck her as a bit odd since she knew he had always been proud of their religion but never seemed like he cared enough to want to go on a trip like that. And she knew that Israel would be a bit dangerous so she was concerned to say the least. But Puck assured her that everything would be alright, that he’d be able to contact her while he was in Israel and that when he got home he’d sit and tell her about everything. And even though she was concerned she sort of sighed, nodded her head and said she understood.
He seemed to know she didn’t though because as soon as she stood up, put her dishes in the sink and moved back over towards the table he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her down into his lap, held her against him and told her not to worry, reminded her that he was a badass and that nothing was going to get to him. She wasn’t so sure about that because anything could happen over there. But when he kissed her? Well, she let herself forget for a little while. She let herself forget that something bad could happen to him. She had to forget. Because if she didn’t then she’d just spend all of her time worrying about him and that wouldn’t do either of them any good.
“Hey, Berry! Your computer is making noise.”
Rachel turns her head to look towards Santana. She’s standing next to the piano where Rachel had set up her laptop. Puck had told her he’d call her on Skype when he got a chance that day so she had set up her laptop in the room. It would be nice for all of them to have a chance to talk to him while he had the time. Hoping out of her seat she rushes across the music room to get to her laptop. The little Skype icon is flashing on her screen and that makes a smile spread across her face. Turning to look at the rest of the room she motions them over with a wave of her hand. “Puck’s calling from Israel. Everybody, come say hello to him.”
Turning back to the computer she can hear the shuffling of feet in her direction but instead of turning to look at them she clicks the icon to accept the “call”. The video window opens and Puck’s face appears on the screen. Behind him seems to be a coffee shop, people moving around and people talking in the background. The second he sees her face though he smiles at her. “Hey, Rach.” There’s noise behind her and his gaze shifts a little bit and for a moment his eyebrows furrow but then he lets out this sort of surprised laugh as he looks at her. “You go the whole club there with you?” He sounds less than surprised but definitely amused.
“Well, you couldn’t come to the glee club so I guess you could say I’m bringing them to you.” Rachel leans against the piano in a way that makes it so she can rest a little while she looks at the screen. “Be polite and say ‘hello’ to everyone.”
Puck rolls his eyes but she can see a definite hint of a smile spreading across his face. He may act like he doesn’t care but she knows deep down that he does, at least a little bit. He’s not a giant softy and he isn’t known for being extremely emotional but she knows a part of him genuinely cares about the rest of the members of New Directions. But, as he always does, he tries to keep it inside, act like he could care less. She has to admit that he’s gotten very good at pretending not to care. Still, he lifts up his hand and waves slightly at the people gathering behind Rachel in a sort of greeting.
“Are you taking a lot of pictures?” Brittany’s voice comes from over Rachel’s shoulder and the blonde smiles at him, looks rather excited at the idea of getting to see a bunch of pictures taken during Puck’s vacation. She’s practically bouncing up and down as she asks it.
“Taking some,” Puck admits, nods his head just a little bit as he looks at her. Rachel can see the telltale sign of a sort of smile tugging at the corners of his mouth though he doesn’t actually smile. He’s always guarded with his emotions.
Behind Puck there’s a bit of a commotion and he turns slightly to look behind him, hits the table, jostles the computer which makes the image fill with static for a few moments. He keeps looking behind him for a couple of moments before he looks back at the camera and rolls his eyes like he can’t deal with a lot of the stupidity that goes on with people. She’s seen that look a million and three times before.
“Staying out of trouble, Puckerman?” Santana wraps an arm around Brittany’s waist and looks around the blonde girl so she can be seen by Puckerman on the other side of the Skype session. She has this smirk on her face that Puck has seen a million times before over the years.
“What do you think?” He looks at Santana like she just lost her mind for asking that question, a hint of amusement in his voice, shimmering in his eyes. Rachel loves to see that look in his eyes, like he’s actually enjoying life which happens far too rarely for her liking. It almost seems like Puck doesn’t know how to enjoy life. At least sometimes it seems that way.
Rachel opens her mouth to say something, to imply in some way that she misses him without actually saying it. She doesn’t want to reveal too much to him. It wouldn’t sit well with their whole deal of keeping the relationship a secret. Hard to keep your relationship with someone a secret if you go blabbering on and on about how much you miss someone. So she wants to be subtle; she wants to be careful. But she doesn’t get the chance to say anything because almost as soon as she opens her mouth there’s this strange mass movement around Puck. He ignores it but her eyebrows furrow, worry seeping into her. But she always worries about him when they talk during his trip. Why wouldn’t she? He’s not in a very safe area.
There’s this sound that comes over the speakers of the computer, so loud that even with it being over a webcam it hurts her ears. There’s this flash of light and what looks like rocks or something of the sort goes flying behind him. And then all of a sudden the camera sort of jostles to the side and the picture fills with static, then goes black.
Rachel’s eyebrows furrow and this cold ball starts to form in the pit of her stomach. “What just happened?” Her voice comes out in a whisper as she looks back at the people behind her. Her eyes skip across every single member of the New Directions, her body cold and shaking. She had never seen that happen before; she had never seen anything strange happen when they spoke, never had their connection just disappear the way it did. Something happened. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe she’s overreacting but she could be right. Something could have happened and that makes panic surge throughout her. “What the heck just happened?”
“How are we supposed to know?” Santana’s looking at her like she lost her damn mind. She knows that Rachel and Puck have been spending a lot of time together and they’ve become friends but she doesn’t understand the panic that’s starting to take over Rachel’s voice. And besides, she doesn’t have any more of an answer than Rachel herself does. How could she? She saw the exact same thing that the little brunette had seen herself. What makes Rachel think any of them would know more than she does?
“Give me the computer.” Artie holds out his hands for the electronic device but Rachel doesn’t seem to be paying attention. She just looks too damn shocked to even register the fact that Artie has even spoken, let alone that he’s talking to her. So it’s Kurt that reaches out, takes the computer off of the piano and hands it to Artie. The boy fixes his glasses, adjusts them to push them up a little bit on the bridge of his nose and then he starts typing away at the computer. But what concerns Kurt is the way Rachel is standing there leaning against the piano, her dark eyes haunted, her eyebrows drawn together in concern, her mouth gapped open slightly. He’d never actually seen Rachel look that concerned but he had to admit that it sort of made sense. Rachel and Puck had become quite good friends as of late, he knew that. Still, he doesn’t like the near panicked look that is on her face.
“I found something,” Artie finally says after a little bit. “I’m not sure if it’s what we’re looking for but it’s the only current news coming out of Israel. Well, anything that isn’t reserved to something that would be of interest to only people actually living in Israel, that is.” The look Santana gives him unmistakably tells him that he better get to the damn point before she, in Santana’s words, went all Lima Heights on him. Clearing his throat Artie looks back at the screen of the laptop. “According to a British news source there was a bombing at a coffee shop in Israel. But there’s got to be about a thousand coffee shops in Israel. So, the odds of Puck being in the one that was actually bombed is slim. Some sort of commotion must have occurred outside and perhaps the bombing could have knocked out the internet but I’m sure Puck is fine.”
“I need my phone,” Rachel mutters and moves herself away from the piano. Her movements are jittery, almost stumbling as she makes her way towards the row of chairs. Crouching down in front of hers she reaches into her purse and digs around for her phone. And then as she stands up she starts dialing her phone, moves into Mr. Schue’s office, closes and locks the door behind her as she presses the phone against her ear.
The others stand in the music room and watch her as she moves through the office, her mouth moving a mile a minute as she speaks, her hand reaching up and running through her hair every so often. They look at each other and then back at her, all of them a bit confused as to what has gotten her so very upset. They all figured by then that she and Puck had become quite good friends recently. But she looks on the verge of a true panic attack which is strange and unnerving.
She hangs up the phone and then calls someone else, repeats the same panicky sort of pacing that she had been doing with the first call, her body seeming more and tenser with each passing moment. And by the time she hangs up the phone this time she looks about ready to cry. She kicks one of the chairs hard with the tip of her foot and then she storms out of the office, her breathing harsh and heavy. Reaching up with her empty hand she runs it over her face and lets out this sort of freaked out little breathy sigh. “I can’t get in touch with him,” she whispers. “I called him and he wasn’t answering his phone. And I called his mother. She hasn’t heard from him. And I just…fuck.”
Finn Hudson blinks at her rapidly like she just grew an extra head. He had known the two of them became friends but Rachel isn’t the type of person to curse. And yes, he wasn’t really sure that he liked the idea of the woman he had planned on marrying at one point was friends with the same man his only other real high school girlfriend had cheated on him with. But he really couldn’t do anything about it. He had absolutely no say in the matter. He gave up that right when they broke up. “Rach, calm down,” he tries to soothe her. “I mean, none of us want to see anything bad happen to Puck but if the internet is down then the phones might be, too. I mean, he’ll call us back soon and tell us some stupid story that’s, you know, not even a little funny or cool or whatever but he’ll think it’s funny.”
“Shut up, Finn,” she almost snaps at him though she sounds too sad to really snap. “Don’t you get it? No one can get in touch with him. And there was a bombing in a coffee shop. He was in a coffee shop. He could be hurt. He could be dead. Don’t you care? Aren’t you even a little worried about him? You’ve known him your whole life. How can you make jokes right now? Are you really that much of a jerk that you don’t care?” She all but gapes at him, shakes her head a little bit as she stands there. “I can’t…I can’t be here right now. I just…can’t.” She isn’t sure if she’s more angry or more sad about the way he’s acting. And she doesn’t get why none of them seem to be as worried as they should be. But maybe that’s because she’s involved with Puck. Maybe she cares about his safety more than any of them ever could.
Moving over to Artie she takes her laptop out of his hands and then moves over to grab her bag. And without so much as another word she basically storms out of the room. She’s not really mad at them but she can’t sit there with them when they don’t seem to care. And maybe they do care. But she knows outside of his mother and sister no one is more worried about Puck than Rachel herself is.
Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since she heard from Puck and no one from the Birthright trip seems to be able to give any answers. Rachel has contact them about a dozen times in the last week, his mother about two dozen or so times. And no one seems to be able to tell them anything.
She’s been spending most of her time in his childhood home. She sleeps at her fathers’ house but she spends most of her waking hours with his mother and sister. Sarah doesn’t talk much. She just sits in the living room and watches whatever happens to be on television, sometimes she strums one of the guitars that Puck left at the house but there’s something really sad about her. Rachel knows that Sarah loves her brother but that’s all that she knows because Sarah won’t talk to her about it. She can’t blame her. It’s her brother that’s missing, of course.
Rachel spends most of her time in Puck’s room when she’s there. She isn’t sure why she does it except that it’s the closest that she can get to him with him not being around. She lays in his bed and prays that they’ll get news soon that she’s alright as though prayer can solve just about anything. Sometimes she doubts that there’s anyone really listening. If there was then she was sure that she would have heard some news by then. Because isn’t that what God is supposed to do? Answer prayers? But if that’s what he’s supposed to do? The God must be on vacation because he hasn’t been answering hers.
Rachel has finally decided to go back home to New York. It’s been three weeks since she heard from Puck and there’s still no word from him- or word from anyone else about how Puck might be. The people that are in charge of the Birthright trip have assured them about a million times that they were still looking for any side of him but she had given up on calling for information about him. She’s gotten very, very tired of having them tell her over and over again that they have no new information to give her.
The apartment seems empty without Puck being there. She missed the smell of him on her pillow from the nights that he would spend over; she misses the sound of his voice, misses walking into her kitchen to find him sitting at the table; she misses having him sitting on her couch with her to watch movies, television, whatever happens to be on at the time. It’s a nice way to spend the day but without him there it’s like the place is haunted. Every sound, every smell reminds her of him. It’s like he’s there without being there.
When she misses her period she doesn’t even think for a second she might be pregnant- they’re careful, she knows they’re extremely careful. And she knows she’s right without even having to go to the doctor. Stress can cause the body to do all sorts of strange and unusual things and she knows that’s what it is, that she’s so stressed out because she’s worried about him that her body is reacting to that worry. If she were pregnant there would be more signs than just a missed period. She doesn’t doubt that for a single second. Though a small part of her almost wishes she was pregnant. If Puck is dead- which she isn’t entirely convinced he is but knew there is a possibility- at least there would be a part of him that she could keep with her. It sounded strange because she had never thought about having a baby before that nor had she even thought that she had felt that strongly about Puck but in truth? She does care about him more than she thought she could.
She only thinks for a moment that it might be the best way for her to keep a part of Puck with her, if she were pregnant. But then, very shortly after that thought entered her brain it went right back out of it because she knew that it would be really hard if she had a baby on her own. She would do whatever she had to do to make sure that her child had a happy life but she also knew that if she had a baby? If she had Puck’s baby and he wasn’t around to help take care of it then it would hurt her in a lot of ways, in ways she didn’t even want to think about. And it would hurt her to know that she was going to have to raise her child without the father around. Every child deserved to have both parents and she knew that not having a father had weighed heavily on Puck. The only positive part of that would be that she could honestly say Puck didn’t walk out like his father did. If he was dead then he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter; he wouldn’t have any choice but to not be a part of his child’s life.
She spends every single day lying in her bed when she’s not pretending to want to be social. She hasn’t told anyone why she’s so upset that Puck is missing. They all think it’s just because they had become such close friends. She doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it’s because she had been seeing Puck; she doesn’t have the heart to explain that she’s so, so scared that she might not be able to see someone she genuinely cared about ever again. She would rather them just think that she’s missing a friend. So she forces herself out of the apartment and to see friends but when she’s not doing that? When she’s not forcing herself to try to have fun she ends up lying in her bed trying to get some sleep even though sleep is hard to come by with everything that’s on her mind. Whenever she sleeps she dreams about Puck. She dreams about him with blood rolling down his face, his eyes wide and haunted. He reaches out to her, his motions jerky like a zombie or a ghoul or something of the sort and in her dreams she screams; she wakes up screaming. She’s not sure why she’s afraid in her dream because it’s Puck and she knows him so very well. But she screams every single time she has that dream. And she has that dream almost every single night. It’s almost like her mind is trying to tell her something but for the life of her she can’t figure out what.
She can only think that perhaps her mind is trying to warn her that she should expect the worst. It’s been so long since she heard from Puck that the odds of his being okay are slim to none. The only logical explanation is that her mind is letting her know that she might have to accept the reality that Puck is dead. But she doesn’t want to accept that reality. She knows it’s a very real possibility but it’s not one she even wants to try to entertain. The very idea of Puck being dead? Of Puck never coming back to her apartment and curling up in bed with her? It’s almost too much for her to try to comprehend. It seems so unreal. Because Puck is so, so strong and so, so driven that she can’t even fathom that he might have died right then and there while she was talking to him on Skype in the music room. It’s just a devastating thought.
It’s a Saturday night when she gets a call she’s out for. She’s out with some friends she made while she was at school and when she gets back into her apartment the answering machine is flashing to let her know that she missed a call. But when she presses the button to check and see what the message is she doesn’t hear anything. There’s just quiet, a static like sound and some shuffling around like a person shifting from one foot to another as they wait a little bit to see if she’s going to pick up the phone. And then the phone just disconnects and the machine clicks off to let her know that whoever called hung-up. When she looks at her phone to see if a name she recognizes it going to show up on the caller ID she doesn’t recognize the number by a longshot. She thinks of calling the number back just so she can see who it was that called her but it’s already one in the morning and for all she knows whoever it was that called is already in bed. So instead she just tosses her keys down next to her phone, throws her purse onto the chair in the living room and then she doesn’t even change her clothes. She just kicks off her shoes and climbs into bed, let’s herself slip into sleep knowing deep down she’s going to end up having that strange dream again where he’s basically a zombie.
Its abut three in the morning when she hears a loud sound in her apartment. In her half-asleep mind she’s not entirely sure what she’s hearing but she knows she hears something. The sound startles her enough that she jumps a little bit, that her heart feels like it goes right into her throat. Her eyes spring open and try to adjust to the darkness though it seems nearly impossible for them to adjust. It’s not clear to her at first if she actually heard anything or if she imagined it. And for a few moments after that she doesn’t hear anything at all. Not a single sound. But then she does. She hears what sounds like footsteps moving across the apartment floor, the boards creaking. She’s not entirely sure she wants to believe what she’s hearing but then as the footsteps get louder? She can’t deny she’s hearing something. The sound echoes in her ears and makes her entire body feel cold, so very cold. Her body just feels tense and she knows she should get out of there. She should move. That’s what all of her instincts tell her, all of her years of wondering what she would do if something like that were to happen. It’s New York, after all. And there were people in that place that were dangerous. But she can’t move. Her breathing becomes very, very shallow and she doesn’t know how she even manages to keep on breathing. But the footsteps are getting louder, closer and her body is getting more and more tense with each second. And when her bedroom door clicks open she just wants to crawl underneath her covers and hide from the world.
She can’t move though. Even if it didn’t feel too late to move her legs don’t seem to want to function properly anyway. She just lays there, clenches her eyes shut and silently counts to ten, then to twenty, then to thirty as the footsteps get louder, closer. She feels like her heart it going to pound out of her chest. And then the bed shifts next to her as someone sits down on it. Holding her breath she waits. She just waits to see what will happen though she’s pretty sure it’ll be something bad, something horrible, but all she can do is wait and wait and wait. And waiting feels like slow torture; waiting feels like going insane. If something was going to happen to her? She wanted it to happen as soon as possible.
As she waits there she feels a hand rest on her head. At first she’s not even sure she feels what she thinks she’s feeling. The gesture seems too familiar, too casual, too gentle. Why would someone break into the apartment just to touch her that way? It makes her feel even more anxious because if whoever that was hadn’t come there to rob her or kill her? Then perhaps they were there to hurt her in a different way. And that’s the thought that makes her eyes spring open, makes her try to see who is sitting there on the edge of her bed. At first she can’t see who it is in the dark room. It’s just a shape. Just a shape that vaguely resembles a person. But it’s a shape nonetheless. She knows it’s a person that’s sitting there on the edge of her bed. But soon the image becomes more clear; soon she can see a profile, the slope of a nose, the line of a jaw. It strikes her as familiar for a moment and then after sitting there for a tiny bit longer she finally realizes she does, in fact, know the jaw. It’s one that she knows far, far too well. One that she hasn’t seen in a long while.
When she reaches up her hand is shaking a little bit she presses the tips of her fingers against the jawline, the touch unsure, tentative. But then as soon as her fingers touch the stubble she knows exactly who it is that’s sitting there. “Noah…” That voice comes out in a hushed sort of a whisper. Dropping her hand back don she uses both of them to push herself up into a sitting position. Once her face is closer to his she can see him more clearly, can make out more of the features of his face. “Noah…” There’s a mark on his, the very definite sign of stitches there. But other than that one, small imperfection he still looks very much like Puck. That hasn’t changed even a little bit.
There’s a flicker of a smile that crosses his face in the dark and he opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but in the end he doesn’t. He just closes his mouth back up and smiles at her again. And before she can stop herself she presses her hand against his cheek, leans closer to him and presses her mouth against his, kisses him because she’s been so worried about him, because she missed him so much, because she had just about convinced herself that she was never going to see him again, that even if there was a funeral he wouldn’t be in the coffin since they couldn’t seem to find hide nor hair of him. It was the most horrible feeling in the world, worse than when Finn had broken up with her just before sending her to New York. Because at least Finn was still alive. She knew even if they never got together she’d get to see him again. But if Puck was dead? She’d never, ever get to see him again and that hurt her more than she could express.
“I thought you were dead,” she whispers against his mouth. “They said they couldn’t find you and every time we called there was no news. And you didn’t call…why didn’t you call?”
“I did,” he whispered back, reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, tangled them in the dark strands at the back of her head as he kept his face still pressed close to hers. “I called you tonight but you didn’t answer your phone.”
“I was out,” she whispered to him. “My friends from school…they called me. Convinced me to go out. I just…I didn’t know you were going to call me. If I had known I would have stayed.” She pets his cheek with the tips of her fingers, his breath warm against her mouth. “Why didn’t you call me before tonight?” That didn’t make any sense to her. He had been missing for weeks and hadn’t called her, hadn’t called his mother- as far as she knew. Why wouldn’t you call someone and tell them that you were alright? What had been holding him back? What had stopped him from calling one of them just so that they knew he was alive and not lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Or blown into a thousand pieces, destroyed by that bomb that went off in the coffee shop?
“Got hit in the head, babe. Didn’t remember shit for a while there. Took forever to be able to find anyone from the trip, to let them know who I was. I just figured shit out a couple of days ago. And they had to make sure shit wasn’t wrong with my head or anything. I called my mom yesterday. I wanted to tell you I was coming. Told her not to tell you. I thought you’d answer the phone.” His fingers move through her hair and the corners of his mouth turn up into a sort of smile. “I’m okay, Rach. I’m sitting right here. I’m okay. A few cuts and bruises but I’m gonna be okay.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I’m not dead.”
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she orders though she knows, logically, she can’t really make him promise her that. She can’t make him promise never to make her feel like she was going to have to go to his funeral, not ever again. She knows it can happen again but she hadn’t like that feeling, the feeling of being so helpless, so lost, so unaware of what was going to happen, of where he was and if he was going to be alright. But before either of them can point out that fact- he might, she probably will, she knows that- she kisses him. she kisses him and he turns slightly on the bed so his legs were up on the bed and without any hesitation she climbs into his lap, slips her arms around his neck, her legs going on either side of him so that she can sit as close to him as she can possibly get.
“You’re staying, right?” she whispers against his mouth. “You’re not going anywhere?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her with a slight nod of his head.
“Stay the night?”
He doesn’t answer her. He just smiles on her, his arms going around her waist, tightening before he moves them so they’re on their sides there on the bed. She knows she should say something else to him but she doesn’t know what to say. So instead of saying anything she buries her face against the crook of his neck, keeps her arms wrapped around him and just lays there. Sleeping there, cuddled up in bed with him seems like a good way to end the night. Tomorrow they’d talk more, she’d make sure of it. But for the time being? Sleep sounded like heaven on earth.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Rachel/Puck, appearance by the rest of New Directions
Rating: R
Word Count: 6, 876
Summary: Puck is on a Birthright trip to Israel when a bomb goes off.
Author's Notes: Written for this prompt at glee-angst-meme
It’s been two years since Rachel Berry graduated from McKinley high school and there she stands, in the middle of the choir room, in the middle of July, laughing at something Brittany said. The summer immediately following graduation had been a hectic summer for everyone who had gotten a diploma. They were all busy preparing for their lives after high school, packing for college or simply to move, packing up their lives to go and be somewhere else. But the following summer, after everyone came back to Lima during their break from school, they had all gotten together as often as they could, hung out in people’s living rooms and backyards, laughed and sang, acted like they were still in the glee club which sounded a bit off but it was fun for them, to act like nothing had changed. And that had given Mr. Schue an idea.
This summer was different. He had spoken to Principal Figgins and had worked out a way for them to use the music room during the summer, almost like that original group from New Directions was back together, if only for a short period of time. So, when her sophomore year of college was wrapping up she knew she’d be going back to Lima to reconnect with everyone she had gotten close to during her time in the glee club. She knew, however, that not everyone would be there. She was the only one privy to that information when coming back to Lima though.
Eight months before the break started Rachel had gotten a surprise visit from someone she had graduated with. She had seen Santana and Kurt plenty of times since they moved to New York, and she had seen Quinn a few times after graduating, but she hadn’t really seen anyone else. At least not while she was living in New York. When she went home to Lima she would see people. But not in New York. And then she got a knock on her door around ten in the evening and she made her way across her tiny little apartment to find the one person on the other side of the door she hadn’t really ever thought she’d see standing there. With a cocky smirk on his face Noah Puckerman had leaned against the doorframe and asked her if she was going to let him into her apartment or not. To say she was surprised would be an understatement.
It turned out that California hadn’t exactly gone the way he had hoped it would so he hightailed it to New York City. He didn’t really have a place to stay just yet, but he hadn’t been stopping by to ask for a place to stay. He said he just wanted to see how she was doing in that big old city without all of her friends from back home with her every day, without her dads around to spend time with her every night if she got lonely. She made him stay, however, at least for a little bit while he looked for a more permanent living situation. And so Noah Puckerman took over her couch like she bought it just for him, turned it into a makeshift bed.
It took some getting used to at first, having him in her apartment day in and day out. She wasn’t used to getting up in the morning and having him sitting at her kitchen table. The first few times it got pretty awkward because she’d make her way down the hall still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and there he’d be, sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, wearing nothing but whatever underwear he wore when he went to bed that night. It was jarring to see him sitting there almost naked first thing in the morning and he didn’t seem to find it strange at all. He just waved his hand towards the counter and told her that there was fresh coffee waiting for her if she needed it- or wanted it.
Eventually she got him to at least put pants on when he was going to be out in the kitchen. She rarely left her room at night except to go to the bathroom so if he wanted to sleep practically naked it was of no bother to her. She just preferred he wear something more than just his underwear when he was in the kitchen. So he eventually put some pants on before heading in there. It took a few days before she got him to do that. And it took a few days more for him to really start looking for a place to stay beside her couch. But part of it was really nice. Because she had someone to keep her company, yes. But she also had someone who made coffee in the morning before she woke up; she had someone she could share meals with when she didn’t feel like eating all by herself. It was nice to have someone else there to talk to.
Somehow, over time, as she spent more nights and more mornings with Puck in her apartment her feelings towards him began to change. She had always been a bit attracted to him, she wouldn’t deny that one. How couldn’t she be attracted to him? He was a rather good-looking man and had a certain charm to him that was undeniable. But she had always considered him as sort of her friend and nothing more than that. She had always felt her heart and future seemed to lie with Finn Hudson. But she and Finn had been apart for a few years already and then what she felt towards Puck changed. Her attraction to him became stronger. She found herself laughing at things she hadn’t expected to ever find funny; she found herself jealous the few times they went out to clubs together and he was flirting with other girls. It was strange; it was new; it wasn’t something she ever thought would happen. But she found herself caring more and more about Puck with each passing day.
Apparently, somehow, Puck ended up feeling something more for her than pure friendship. Because a couple of weeks after he got there, after he showed up at her doorway he asked her out. He did it pretty casually while they were sitting at the kitchen table having lunch. He didn’t even really look up at her. He just kept on eating and asked her if she wanted to go out with him sometime. For a few moments she just sat there looking at him and after a moment she agreed to go out with him. Things went pretty expectedly after that. He kept on spending time there in her apartment. They went out on dates and sometimes he’d spend the night on her couch again early on in their sort of relationship or whatever it was. She wasn’t sure what to call it at first. But things developed where she supposed she could say he was her boyfriend. But they didn’t tell anyone about them. It wasn’t because they were ashamed of their relationship or anything. It was simply because they didn’t see any reason to tell others.
About a month before they were going to be heading back to Lima for the summer so they could spend time with their friends from McKinley the two of them were sitting in Rachel’s kitchen and Puck told her he wasn’t going to be going back with her to Lima, that he had other plans. She sat there for a long while just looking at him like she was waiting for him to start laughing, to tell her he was just kidding, that he was playing games with her but he was dead serious. She could tell that much. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what he meant and then, after a while, he heaved a heavy sigh and told her that he was going on a trip to Israel, a Birthright trip which struck her as a bit odd since she knew he had always been proud of their religion but never seemed like he cared enough to want to go on a trip like that. And she knew that Israel would be a bit dangerous so she was concerned to say the least. But Puck assured her that everything would be alright, that he’d be able to contact her while he was in Israel and that when he got home he’d sit and tell her about everything. And even though she was concerned she sort of sighed, nodded her head and said she understood.
He seemed to know she didn’t though because as soon as she stood up, put her dishes in the sink and moved back over towards the table he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her down into his lap, held her against him and told her not to worry, reminded her that he was a badass and that nothing was going to get to him. She wasn’t so sure about that because anything could happen over there. But when he kissed her? Well, she let herself forget for a little while. She let herself forget that something bad could happen to him. She had to forget. Because if she didn’t then she’d just spend all of her time worrying about him and that wouldn’t do either of them any good.
“Hey, Berry! Your computer is making noise.”
Rachel turns her head to look towards Santana. She’s standing next to the piano where Rachel had set up her laptop. Puck had told her he’d call her on Skype when he got a chance that day so she had set up her laptop in the room. It would be nice for all of them to have a chance to talk to him while he had the time. Hoping out of her seat she rushes across the music room to get to her laptop. The little Skype icon is flashing on her screen and that makes a smile spread across her face. Turning to look at the rest of the room she motions them over with a wave of her hand. “Puck’s calling from Israel. Everybody, come say hello to him.”
Turning back to the computer she can hear the shuffling of feet in her direction but instead of turning to look at them she clicks the icon to accept the “call”. The video window opens and Puck’s face appears on the screen. Behind him seems to be a coffee shop, people moving around and people talking in the background. The second he sees her face though he smiles at her. “Hey, Rach.” There’s noise behind her and his gaze shifts a little bit and for a moment his eyebrows furrow but then he lets out this sort of surprised laugh as he looks at her. “You go the whole club there with you?” He sounds less than surprised but definitely amused.
“Well, you couldn’t come to the glee club so I guess you could say I’m bringing them to you.” Rachel leans against the piano in a way that makes it so she can rest a little while she looks at the screen. “Be polite and say ‘hello’ to everyone.”
Puck rolls his eyes but she can see a definite hint of a smile spreading across his face. He may act like he doesn’t care but she knows deep down that he does, at least a little bit. He’s not a giant softy and he isn’t known for being extremely emotional but she knows a part of him genuinely cares about the rest of the members of New Directions. But, as he always does, he tries to keep it inside, act like he could care less. She has to admit that he’s gotten very good at pretending not to care. Still, he lifts up his hand and waves slightly at the people gathering behind Rachel in a sort of greeting.
“Are you taking a lot of pictures?” Brittany’s voice comes from over Rachel’s shoulder and the blonde smiles at him, looks rather excited at the idea of getting to see a bunch of pictures taken during Puck’s vacation. She’s practically bouncing up and down as she asks it.
“Taking some,” Puck admits, nods his head just a little bit as he looks at her. Rachel can see the telltale sign of a sort of smile tugging at the corners of his mouth though he doesn’t actually smile. He’s always guarded with his emotions.
Behind Puck there’s a bit of a commotion and he turns slightly to look behind him, hits the table, jostles the computer which makes the image fill with static for a few moments. He keeps looking behind him for a couple of moments before he looks back at the camera and rolls his eyes like he can’t deal with a lot of the stupidity that goes on with people. She’s seen that look a million and three times before.
“Staying out of trouble, Puckerman?” Santana wraps an arm around Brittany’s waist and looks around the blonde girl so she can be seen by Puckerman on the other side of the Skype session. She has this smirk on her face that Puck has seen a million times before over the years.
“What do you think?” He looks at Santana like she just lost her mind for asking that question, a hint of amusement in his voice, shimmering in his eyes. Rachel loves to see that look in his eyes, like he’s actually enjoying life which happens far too rarely for her liking. It almost seems like Puck doesn’t know how to enjoy life. At least sometimes it seems that way.
Rachel opens her mouth to say something, to imply in some way that she misses him without actually saying it. She doesn’t want to reveal too much to him. It wouldn’t sit well with their whole deal of keeping the relationship a secret. Hard to keep your relationship with someone a secret if you go blabbering on and on about how much you miss someone. So she wants to be subtle; she wants to be careful. But she doesn’t get the chance to say anything because almost as soon as she opens her mouth there’s this strange mass movement around Puck. He ignores it but her eyebrows furrow, worry seeping into her. But she always worries about him when they talk during his trip. Why wouldn’t she? He’s not in a very safe area.
There’s this sound that comes over the speakers of the computer, so loud that even with it being over a webcam it hurts her ears. There’s this flash of light and what looks like rocks or something of the sort goes flying behind him. And then all of a sudden the camera sort of jostles to the side and the picture fills with static, then goes black.
Rachel’s eyebrows furrow and this cold ball starts to form in the pit of her stomach. “What just happened?” Her voice comes out in a whisper as she looks back at the people behind her. Her eyes skip across every single member of the New Directions, her body cold and shaking. She had never seen that happen before; she had never seen anything strange happen when they spoke, never had their connection just disappear the way it did. Something happened. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe she’s overreacting but she could be right. Something could have happened and that makes panic surge throughout her. “What the heck just happened?”
“How are we supposed to know?” Santana’s looking at her like she lost her damn mind. She knows that Rachel and Puck have been spending a lot of time together and they’ve become friends but she doesn’t understand the panic that’s starting to take over Rachel’s voice. And besides, she doesn’t have any more of an answer than Rachel herself does. How could she? She saw the exact same thing that the little brunette had seen herself. What makes Rachel think any of them would know more than she does?
“Give me the computer.” Artie holds out his hands for the electronic device but Rachel doesn’t seem to be paying attention. She just looks too damn shocked to even register the fact that Artie has even spoken, let alone that he’s talking to her. So it’s Kurt that reaches out, takes the computer off of the piano and hands it to Artie. The boy fixes his glasses, adjusts them to push them up a little bit on the bridge of his nose and then he starts typing away at the computer. But what concerns Kurt is the way Rachel is standing there leaning against the piano, her dark eyes haunted, her eyebrows drawn together in concern, her mouth gapped open slightly. He’d never actually seen Rachel look that concerned but he had to admit that it sort of made sense. Rachel and Puck had become quite good friends as of late, he knew that. Still, he doesn’t like the near panicked look that is on her face.
“I found something,” Artie finally says after a little bit. “I’m not sure if it’s what we’re looking for but it’s the only current news coming out of Israel. Well, anything that isn’t reserved to something that would be of interest to only people actually living in Israel, that is.” The look Santana gives him unmistakably tells him that he better get to the damn point before she, in Santana’s words, went all Lima Heights on him. Clearing his throat Artie looks back at the screen of the laptop. “According to a British news source there was a bombing at a coffee shop in Israel. But there’s got to be about a thousand coffee shops in Israel. So, the odds of Puck being in the one that was actually bombed is slim. Some sort of commotion must have occurred outside and perhaps the bombing could have knocked out the internet but I’m sure Puck is fine.”
“I need my phone,” Rachel mutters and moves herself away from the piano. Her movements are jittery, almost stumbling as she makes her way towards the row of chairs. Crouching down in front of hers she reaches into her purse and digs around for her phone. And then as she stands up she starts dialing her phone, moves into Mr. Schue’s office, closes and locks the door behind her as she presses the phone against her ear.
The others stand in the music room and watch her as she moves through the office, her mouth moving a mile a minute as she speaks, her hand reaching up and running through her hair every so often. They look at each other and then back at her, all of them a bit confused as to what has gotten her so very upset. They all figured by then that she and Puck had become quite good friends recently. But she looks on the verge of a true panic attack which is strange and unnerving.
She hangs up the phone and then calls someone else, repeats the same panicky sort of pacing that she had been doing with the first call, her body seeming more and tenser with each passing moment. And by the time she hangs up the phone this time she looks about ready to cry. She kicks one of the chairs hard with the tip of her foot and then she storms out of the office, her breathing harsh and heavy. Reaching up with her empty hand she runs it over her face and lets out this sort of freaked out little breathy sigh. “I can’t get in touch with him,” she whispers. “I called him and he wasn’t answering his phone. And I called his mother. She hasn’t heard from him. And I just…fuck.”
Finn Hudson blinks at her rapidly like she just grew an extra head. He had known the two of them became friends but Rachel isn’t the type of person to curse. And yes, he wasn’t really sure that he liked the idea of the woman he had planned on marrying at one point was friends with the same man his only other real high school girlfriend had cheated on him with. But he really couldn’t do anything about it. He had absolutely no say in the matter. He gave up that right when they broke up. “Rach, calm down,” he tries to soothe her. “I mean, none of us want to see anything bad happen to Puck but if the internet is down then the phones might be, too. I mean, he’ll call us back soon and tell us some stupid story that’s, you know, not even a little funny or cool or whatever but he’ll think it’s funny.”
“Shut up, Finn,” she almost snaps at him though she sounds too sad to really snap. “Don’t you get it? No one can get in touch with him. And there was a bombing in a coffee shop. He was in a coffee shop. He could be hurt. He could be dead. Don’t you care? Aren’t you even a little worried about him? You’ve known him your whole life. How can you make jokes right now? Are you really that much of a jerk that you don’t care?” She all but gapes at him, shakes her head a little bit as she stands there. “I can’t…I can’t be here right now. I just…can’t.” She isn’t sure if she’s more angry or more sad about the way he’s acting. And she doesn’t get why none of them seem to be as worried as they should be. But maybe that’s because she’s involved with Puck. Maybe she cares about his safety more than any of them ever could.
Moving over to Artie she takes her laptop out of his hands and then moves over to grab her bag. And without so much as another word she basically storms out of the room. She’s not really mad at them but she can’t sit there with them when they don’t seem to care. And maybe they do care. But she knows outside of his mother and sister no one is more worried about Puck than Rachel herself is.
Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since she heard from Puck and no one from the Birthright trip seems to be able to give any answers. Rachel has contact them about a dozen times in the last week, his mother about two dozen or so times. And no one seems to be able to tell them anything.
She’s been spending most of her time in his childhood home. She sleeps at her fathers’ house but she spends most of her waking hours with his mother and sister. Sarah doesn’t talk much. She just sits in the living room and watches whatever happens to be on television, sometimes she strums one of the guitars that Puck left at the house but there’s something really sad about her. Rachel knows that Sarah loves her brother but that’s all that she knows because Sarah won’t talk to her about it. She can’t blame her. It’s her brother that’s missing, of course.
Rachel spends most of her time in Puck’s room when she’s there. She isn’t sure why she does it except that it’s the closest that she can get to him with him not being around. She lays in his bed and prays that they’ll get news soon that she’s alright as though prayer can solve just about anything. Sometimes she doubts that there’s anyone really listening. If there was then she was sure that she would have heard some news by then. Because isn’t that what God is supposed to do? Answer prayers? But if that’s what he’s supposed to do? The God must be on vacation because he hasn’t been answering hers.
Rachel has finally decided to go back home to New York. It’s been three weeks since she heard from Puck and there’s still no word from him- or word from anyone else about how Puck might be. The people that are in charge of the Birthright trip have assured them about a million times that they were still looking for any side of him but she had given up on calling for information about him. She’s gotten very, very tired of having them tell her over and over again that they have no new information to give her.
The apartment seems empty without Puck being there. She missed the smell of him on her pillow from the nights that he would spend over; she misses the sound of his voice, misses walking into her kitchen to find him sitting at the table; she misses having him sitting on her couch with her to watch movies, television, whatever happens to be on at the time. It’s a nice way to spend the day but without him there it’s like the place is haunted. Every sound, every smell reminds her of him. It’s like he’s there without being there.
When she misses her period she doesn’t even think for a second she might be pregnant- they’re careful, she knows they’re extremely careful. And she knows she’s right without even having to go to the doctor. Stress can cause the body to do all sorts of strange and unusual things and she knows that’s what it is, that she’s so stressed out because she’s worried about him that her body is reacting to that worry. If she were pregnant there would be more signs than just a missed period. She doesn’t doubt that for a single second. Though a small part of her almost wishes she was pregnant. If Puck is dead- which she isn’t entirely convinced he is but knew there is a possibility- at least there would be a part of him that she could keep with her. It sounded strange because she had never thought about having a baby before that nor had she even thought that she had felt that strongly about Puck but in truth? She does care about him more than she thought she could.
She only thinks for a moment that it might be the best way for her to keep a part of Puck with her, if she were pregnant. But then, very shortly after that thought entered her brain it went right back out of it because she knew that it would be really hard if she had a baby on her own. She would do whatever she had to do to make sure that her child had a happy life but she also knew that if she had a baby? If she had Puck’s baby and he wasn’t around to help take care of it then it would hurt her in a lot of ways, in ways she didn’t even want to think about. And it would hurt her to know that she was going to have to raise her child without the father around. Every child deserved to have both parents and she knew that not having a father had weighed heavily on Puck. The only positive part of that would be that she could honestly say Puck didn’t walk out like his father did. If he was dead then he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter; he wouldn’t have any choice but to not be a part of his child’s life.
She spends every single day lying in her bed when she’s not pretending to want to be social. She hasn’t told anyone why she’s so upset that Puck is missing. They all think it’s just because they had become such close friends. She doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it’s because she had been seeing Puck; she doesn’t have the heart to explain that she’s so, so scared that she might not be able to see someone she genuinely cared about ever again. She would rather them just think that she’s missing a friend. So she forces herself out of the apartment and to see friends but when she’s not doing that? When she’s not forcing herself to try to have fun she ends up lying in her bed trying to get some sleep even though sleep is hard to come by with everything that’s on her mind. Whenever she sleeps she dreams about Puck. She dreams about him with blood rolling down his face, his eyes wide and haunted. He reaches out to her, his motions jerky like a zombie or a ghoul or something of the sort and in her dreams she screams; she wakes up screaming. She’s not sure why she’s afraid in her dream because it’s Puck and she knows him so very well. But she screams every single time she has that dream. And she has that dream almost every single night. It’s almost like her mind is trying to tell her something but for the life of her she can’t figure out what.
She can only think that perhaps her mind is trying to warn her that she should expect the worst. It’s been so long since she heard from Puck that the odds of his being okay are slim to none. The only logical explanation is that her mind is letting her know that she might have to accept the reality that Puck is dead. But she doesn’t want to accept that reality. She knows it’s a very real possibility but it’s not one she even wants to try to entertain. The very idea of Puck being dead? Of Puck never coming back to her apartment and curling up in bed with her? It’s almost too much for her to try to comprehend. It seems so unreal. Because Puck is so, so strong and so, so driven that she can’t even fathom that he might have died right then and there while she was talking to him on Skype in the music room. It’s just a devastating thought.
It’s a Saturday night when she gets a call she’s out for. She’s out with some friends she made while she was at school and when she gets back into her apartment the answering machine is flashing to let her know that she missed a call. But when she presses the button to check and see what the message is she doesn’t hear anything. There’s just quiet, a static like sound and some shuffling around like a person shifting from one foot to another as they wait a little bit to see if she’s going to pick up the phone. And then the phone just disconnects and the machine clicks off to let her know that whoever called hung-up. When she looks at her phone to see if a name she recognizes it going to show up on the caller ID she doesn’t recognize the number by a longshot. She thinks of calling the number back just so she can see who it was that called her but it’s already one in the morning and for all she knows whoever it was that called is already in bed. So instead she just tosses her keys down next to her phone, throws her purse onto the chair in the living room and then she doesn’t even change her clothes. She just kicks off her shoes and climbs into bed, let’s herself slip into sleep knowing deep down she’s going to end up having that strange dream again where he’s basically a zombie.
Its abut three in the morning when she hears a loud sound in her apartment. In her half-asleep mind she’s not entirely sure what she’s hearing but she knows she hears something. The sound startles her enough that she jumps a little bit, that her heart feels like it goes right into her throat. Her eyes spring open and try to adjust to the darkness though it seems nearly impossible for them to adjust. It’s not clear to her at first if she actually heard anything or if she imagined it. And for a few moments after that she doesn’t hear anything at all. Not a single sound. But then she does. She hears what sounds like footsteps moving across the apartment floor, the boards creaking. She’s not entirely sure she wants to believe what she’s hearing but then as the footsteps get louder? She can’t deny she’s hearing something. The sound echoes in her ears and makes her entire body feel cold, so very cold. Her body just feels tense and she knows she should get out of there. She should move. That’s what all of her instincts tell her, all of her years of wondering what she would do if something like that were to happen. It’s New York, after all. And there were people in that place that were dangerous. But she can’t move. Her breathing becomes very, very shallow and she doesn’t know how she even manages to keep on breathing. But the footsteps are getting louder, closer and her body is getting more and more tense with each second. And when her bedroom door clicks open she just wants to crawl underneath her covers and hide from the world.
She can’t move though. Even if it didn’t feel too late to move her legs don’t seem to want to function properly anyway. She just lays there, clenches her eyes shut and silently counts to ten, then to twenty, then to thirty as the footsteps get louder, closer. She feels like her heart it going to pound out of her chest. And then the bed shifts next to her as someone sits down on it. Holding her breath she waits. She just waits to see what will happen though she’s pretty sure it’ll be something bad, something horrible, but all she can do is wait and wait and wait. And waiting feels like slow torture; waiting feels like going insane. If something was going to happen to her? She wanted it to happen as soon as possible.
As she waits there she feels a hand rest on her head. At first she’s not even sure she feels what she thinks she’s feeling. The gesture seems too familiar, too casual, too gentle. Why would someone break into the apartment just to touch her that way? It makes her feel even more anxious because if whoever that was hadn’t come there to rob her or kill her? Then perhaps they were there to hurt her in a different way. And that’s the thought that makes her eyes spring open, makes her try to see who is sitting there on the edge of her bed. At first she can’t see who it is in the dark room. It’s just a shape. Just a shape that vaguely resembles a person. But it’s a shape nonetheless. She knows it’s a person that’s sitting there on the edge of her bed. But soon the image becomes more clear; soon she can see a profile, the slope of a nose, the line of a jaw. It strikes her as familiar for a moment and then after sitting there for a tiny bit longer she finally realizes she does, in fact, know the jaw. It’s one that she knows far, far too well. One that she hasn’t seen in a long while.
When she reaches up her hand is shaking a little bit she presses the tips of her fingers against the jawline, the touch unsure, tentative. But then as soon as her fingers touch the stubble she knows exactly who it is that’s sitting there. “Noah…” That voice comes out in a hushed sort of a whisper. Dropping her hand back don she uses both of them to push herself up into a sitting position. Once her face is closer to his she can see him more clearly, can make out more of the features of his face. “Noah…” There’s a mark on his, the very definite sign of stitches there. But other than that one, small imperfection he still looks very much like Puck. That hasn’t changed even a little bit.
There’s a flicker of a smile that crosses his face in the dark and he opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but in the end he doesn’t. He just closes his mouth back up and smiles at her again. And before she can stop herself she presses her hand against his cheek, leans closer to him and presses her mouth against his, kisses him because she’s been so worried about him, because she missed him so much, because she had just about convinced herself that she was never going to see him again, that even if there was a funeral he wouldn’t be in the coffin since they couldn’t seem to find hide nor hair of him. It was the most horrible feeling in the world, worse than when Finn had broken up with her just before sending her to New York. Because at least Finn was still alive. She knew even if they never got together she’d get to see him again. But if Puck was dead? She’d never, ever get to see him again and that hurt her more than she could express.
“I thought you were dead,” she whispers against his mouth. “They said they couldn’t find you and every time we called there was no news. And you didn’t call…why didn’t you call?”
“I did,” he whispered back, reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, tangled them in the dark strands at the back of her head as he kept his face still pressed close to hers. “I called you tonight but you didn’t answer your phone.”
“I was out,” she whispered to him. “My friends from school…they called me. Convinced me to go out. I just…I didn’t know you were going to call me. If I had known I would have stayed.” She pets his cheek with the tips of her fingers, his breath warm against her mouth. “Why didn’t you call me before tonight?” That didn’t make any sense to her. He had been missing for weeks and hadn’t called her, hadn’t called his mother- as far as she knew. Why wouldn’t you call someone and tell them that you were alright? What had been holding him back? What had stopped him from calling one of them just so that they knew he was alive and not lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Or blown into a thousand pieces, destroyed by that bomb that went off in the coffee shop?
“Got hit in the head, babe. Didn’t remember shit for a while there. Took forever to be able to find anyone from the trip, to let them know who I was. I just figured shit out a couple of days ago. And they had to make sure shit wasn’t wrong with my head or anything. I called my mom yesterday. I wanted to tell you I was coming. Told her not to tell you. I thought you’d answer the phone.” His fingers move through her hair and the corners of his mouth turn up into a sort of smile. “I’m okay, Rach. I’m sitting right here. I’m okay. A few cuts and bruises but I’m gonna be okay.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I’m not dead.”
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she orders though she knows, logically, she can’t really make him promise her that. She can’t make him promise never to make her feel like she was going to have to go to his funeral, not ever again. She knows it can happen again but she hadn’t like that feeling, the feeling of being so helpless, so lost, so unaware of what was going to happen, of where he was and if he was going to be alright. But before either of them can point out that fact- he might, she probably will, she knows that- she kisses him. she kisses him and he turns slightly on the bed so his legs were up on the bed and without any hesitation she climbs into his lap, slips her arms around his neck, her legs going on either side of him so that she can sit as close to him as she can possibly get.
“You’re staying, right?” she whispers against his mouth. “You’re not going anywhere?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her with a slight nod of his head.
“Stay the night?”
He doesn’t answer her. He just smiles on her, his arms going around her waist, tightening before he moves them so they’re on their sides there on the bed. She knows she should say something else to him but she doesn’t know what to say. So instead of saying anything she buries her face against the crook of his neck, keeps her arms wrapped around him and just lays there. Sleeping there, cuddled up in bed with him seems like a good way to end the night. Tomorrow they’d talk more, she’d make sure of it. But for the time being? Sleep sounded like heaven on earth.