Alex In the City by BymagaJones 15/16: All Roads Lead to Marcel
Chapter 14: Will the Real BAMF Please Stand Up
Chapter 15: All Roads Lead to Marcel
Mercedes bit her lip and looked at her watch again. Even with slow train service this time of night, Puck and Alex should’ve already been back. She’d texted Puck, but he probably hadn’t gotten it yet if they were still underground.
She’d already finished her homework and set out the Chinese takeout. She felt a little bit at loose ends and tried to watch TV, but her mind kept straying.
There was no question that Puck would do whatever he had to do to get Alex to come home with him tonight; the difficult part was figuring out how to keep him there, where he belonged.
Eventually, Mercedes heard the key in the lock and had to make fists in order to keep from jumping up and running to the door. She reminded herself to stay calm as they walked into the room, Alex with a box and his customary bag, Puck with his guitar and the carpet they’d given Alex.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Puck turned to Alex. “I want to see them.” Alex cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know what I mean. Where do you hide them?”
Sighing, Alex put down the box. He reached into his jacket pocket and came up with something so small that Mercedes couldn’t make it out from the chair. She stood and walked closer. “Is that a razor blade?” Alex held it out, and she automatically took it.
He reached into his right sleeve and pulled out a wickedly large piece of glass.
“What is that?” Mercedes asked.
“That’s his shiv,” Puck said. “Any more?”
After pausing a moment, Alex sighed and pulled another object out of his sleeve. Mercedes and Puck leaned closer for a better look. “And what’s that?” She asked.
“Another shiv,” Puck answered, “made from a toothbrush, it looks like.”
Mercedes couldn’t figure out how Puck felt about all of these things, but she had to say that even though she hadn’t thought about it, she wasn’t surprised that Alex would have stuff to protect himself. After all, Momma Cass did that whole frisking thing before people were allowed in the shelter, and she wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been a need. Since she was sure she’d missed out on a lot, she decided to stop asking questions until she could figure out what was happening.
“Doesn’t it get crowded in your sleeve there?” Puck asked.
Alex shrugged. “Normally, I keep the glass underneath my sock.” He bent down and pulled up his jeans slightly.
“That’s why you put the box down so slowly back there,” Puck said, flopping onto the sofa.
“Okay, what’s going on,” Mercedes demanded.
Puck sniffed the air. “Is that Chinese?”
Putting her hands on her hips, Mercedes growled, “That depends on whether or not you’re going to tell me what happened.”
“I’ll let the superhero tell you himself while we eat,” Puck suggested. “I’m starving.”
Over bites of General Tso’s chicken and sesame noodles, Mercedes learned about how she almost lost her two boys.
“You both could’ve been killed!” Mercedes fairly shouted, hand to her chest.
“Superman here wasn’t even breathing hard when it was over,” Puck said, and Mercedes could almost see his chest growing with pride.
Alex shrugged, picking up some noodles with his chopsticks. “It wasn’t really a big deal.”
“How is having a gun to your face not a big deal?” Mercedes asked.
Alex chewed thoughtfully, looking her straight in the eye. “I’ve dealt with scarier people and situations.”
Mercedes didn’t know what to say to that.
Fortunately, Puck didn’t have that problem. “Dude, when I get famous, I’m totally hiring you to be my bodyguard.”
Alex smiled slightly.
“Do you think you hurt him badly?” She asked.
Alex shrugged. “Not my problem.”
She felt a little uncomfortable about his blasé attitude toward the violence, although she could understand where he was coming from. She knew she’d grown up in a kind of bubble, and the more she saw out in the real world, the more she appreciated how her parents had sheltered her. It also made her sad to realize that Alex had been sheltered as well when his dad was around, but he’d been thrust into the world unprepared and alone. However, where others around him hadn’t made it, he’d managed to not only survive but thrive. It was her turn to feel pride for her boy.
“I almost forgot.” Puck reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out two brightly colored pieces of paper, handing one to Mercedes and Alex. “This is for our gig next week. Aretha, I know you have rehearsals, so you’re excused - unless for some reason, it’s cancelled. Alex, your presence is mandatory.”
Alex looked uncomfortable.
“We’re going to be playing a couple of those songs I’ve been working on, and I want your opinion.”
“I’m no expert,” Alex said.
“But I trust your opinion,” Puck said, looking at Alex, and it was like Mercedes wasn’t even in the room.
She sat there watching the two of them stare wordlessly at each other and realized that while maybe nothing was happening physically between the two - she would totally know if it were - they were already connecting emotionally. Maybe a few months ago, she would’ve been worried that Puck wasn’t ready for a relationship, but he’d changed since Alex had come into their lives. Mercedes wondered if he realized that he never went out to clubs and bars anymore, never crawled back into the apartment a little after dawn smelling like some stranger he’d met the night before. It was like Alex already filled that part of him that needed that connection.
She worried that it might be too much for Alex, though. Was he any way close to being able to handle a romantic relationship? He was just at the point where he could stand having a hand on his arm or a quick hug. He’d opened up to them a little, but he was still closed off emotionally. Plus, he was still trying to get his shit together. He was back to being homeless, and he’d just buried his friend. He still didn’t talk about before, when he was Kurt.
She just worried that Alex might backtrack if they went too fast, and that was something she refused to let happen if she had any say in the matter.
She looked back down at her flyer, the drawing looking familiar. “Puck, did you draw this?”
Puck’s sudden interest in the food on the coffee table amused her. “Yeah.”
“It’s really good.”
Puck looked up at her, the uncertainty his face reminding her of the artistic side he kept hidden. Sure, he really enjoyed music, and it was something he was comfortable with, but drawing seemed to be his passion. He usually kept it to himself; in fact, the only reason Mercedes knew about it was because one of his drawing books had been peeking out from underneath his bed when she came into his room with a package his mom had shipped to him after he’d recently moved in, and she’d picked it up before he could stop her.
What she’d seen had blown her away. He’d had drawings of everyone from glee, his sister Sarah, his mom, and several of naked women (she didn’t even want to know). They were excellent, and she’d told him so. The look in his eyes as he tried to pretend that the book wasn’t a big deal told her that her approval had meant a lot to him.
At that moment it had hit home for her just how much of his artistic side Puck had hidden from everyone back in Lima. If it hadn’t been for glee, he’d have shoved everything - his music and his drawing - under the bed. She hated to think of how he’d probably still be stifling it if he hadn’t moved up to New York.
“You drew this?” Alex picked up the flyer with more interest, and Mercedes held her breath. She doubted he knew how closely Puck held this to his heart, and she knew he could devastate Puck with the wrong words.
“It’s no big deal,” Puck said, forking more food onto his plate.
Alex brought the paper even closer to his face.
“Dude, don’t inhale it,” Puck said.
“Just looking closer,” Alex murmured. “You’ve included a lot of detail here. How long did it take you to do this?”
Puck shrugged.
“You’re really good.” Alex looked at Puck, obviously surprised. “Why aren’t you going to art school?”
“College isn’t my thing,” Puck said around a mouth of rice and chicken.
Alex cocked his head, a look that had Kurt all over it. “Learn that from experience, did you?”
Puck stared at him. “My grades in high school kind of pointed toward that,” he said dryly.
Alex closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath, and Mercedes got a little worried. Then he opened his eyes, resolve in them. “You spent most of high school either sleeping in the nurse’s clinic or skipping.”
The room became silent as both Mercedes and Puck stared at Alex. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged the past. They’d gotten used to it and had stopped hoping for it or even expecting it. Now that it was here, they didn’t know what to do.
After a few seconds, Alex put down his paper carefully and picked up his chopsticks. “I’m just saying that you didn’t give yourself a chance. You’re way smarter than you think you are, and you’re obviously very talented. You’re surrounded by art schools - the New York Academy of Art, the Art Institute of New York, the School of Visual Arts… I’m sure there’re tons more out there willing to give you a chance. Maybe you could take some New School classes, show that you’re capable of getting good grades, get some good references... I bet you’d get in.”
Puck had stopped chewing when Alex had dropped his memory bomb, but he now resumed. “I’m good with how things are right now. I got my band and the bookstore.”
“You don’t have to choose one thing or the other, and you could probably go part time. People look at you different when you have a college degree.”
“Not the people I hang with.”
“Not now, but say your band gets a deal from a company. You could even take some business classes. I bet some of these colleges around here have some focused on entertainment business. That way, your band doesn’t end up like those ones that have to file for bankruptcy.”
“Alex, I appreciate the thought, but I’m good where I am.”
“Okay. It’s just that in high school, you were obviously smarter than you maybe thought you were.”
“Enough! You don’t see me pushing you to do stuff, like getting rid of that stupid bag you carry around with you everywhere.”
Alex looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself and nodded.
Mercedes had felt it coming, like the way the hairs on her arms would raise right before a storm, but she’d found herself unable to stop the situation. Puck had gone too far, and it was obvious from the look on his face that he realized that.
Alex had somehow managed to get paler, and he gripped the edges of his bag fiercely as he looked like someone had kicked them. Then, as if a switch had clicked in his brain, his face went blank, his eyes emotionless.
An awkward silence stretched over the room, and Mercedes had no idea how to make things more comfortable.
“Shit,” Puck muttered, wiping a hand over his face, “Alex, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Alex said, no inflection in his voice.
“No, it’s not.”
“I pushed; you pushed back.”
“But - ”
“Thanks for dinner,” Alex said, standing.
“We thought you could stay here for the night,” Mercedes said, her voice sounding smaller than she intended.
Alex looked at her, faint smile on his face. “Thanks, but I have plans.”
Mercedes automatically looked at Puck, but this time she knew he couldn’t help. Desperately wanting to make sure he didn’t disappear forever, she grasped for the first thing she thought of. “At least leave your stuff here, where it’ll be safe.”
After a brief second, Alex’s eyes on the carpet, he gave a brief nod followed by a softly spoken, “Thanks.”
“It’s not a problem,” she said earnestly.
She walked him to the door, waiting in silence as he put on his coat and arranged his bag. She opened the door, following him out, propping the door open with her hand. “You know he didn’t mean it,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s been so long for me… I’m not used to…” he made a flipping motion with his hands and sighed. “Being friends is hard.”
“That doesn’t mean you give up,” she said.
“I’m not giving up.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Puck never cried. He had moments when he’d tear up or fight the urge to cry, but that wasn’t the same thing. No, what mattered was keeping those tear ducts shut the hell down. And usually it wasn’t much of a problem. But tonight, after his epic fuck-up, Puck saw a future without Alex, and it was enough to make him want to curl up into a ball and sob like a baby.
Puck couldn’t recall ever feeling like such a shit. He sat on the sofa, head buried in his hands, listening to Mercedes murmur to Alex outside the door.
He’d ruined it. Totally ruined it. All this time, he’d been worried that Mercedes would say or do something to run Alex off when it had been him and his dumb assed mouth to do it. And now Alex was gone, the only possibility of seeing him again resting on the box sitting by the chair Alex had just vacated - and they wouldn’t have even had that if it hadn’t been for Mercedes’ fast thinking.
He heard Mercedes close the door and walk back into the room, and he fell back against the sofa, head back. “I fucked up,” he said miserably.
Mercedes sat beside him, running a hand through his curly hair. “You made a mistake.”
He turned his head and looked at Mercedes. “Did I lose him?”
“Naw,” Mercedes squirmed into the sofa beside him, making herself more comfortable. “He needs some time to sort things out in his mind. Remember, he hadn’t really dealt with people much until we came along.”
“I was such an asshole.” Puck muttered. “For the first time, the first time, he says something about the past, and I have to jump all over him.”
“Maybe it threw you a little,” Mercedes said. “And maybe he pushed you a little hard, said some things you didn’t want to hear. He knows that. He feels like he screwed up too.”
“He was just giving advice to a friend.”
“Unsolicited advice,” Mercedes reminded him. “He’s not blameless in all this. It’s like he said. He pushed; you pushed back.”
A burst of hope rose inside. “You think so?”
Mercedes nodded. She got a look on her face, like she was debating about something, then said, “You two have gotten pretty close.”
“Yeah,” Puck said, drawing out the word. He knew she had more coming.
“How close?”
“What do you mean?”
“Puck, I see how you look at him. You’ve stopped picking up people in bars - heck, you’ve stopped even going to bars. When was the last time you had sex?”
That startled a half laugh out of Puck. “You’re asking after my sex life?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“You’re worried about Alex,” Puck corrected her.
“No, I’m worried about you both.”
Puck sighed again, turning his head away from Mercedes to stare at the blank screen of the TV. “I’m fine.”
“Are you? You two have gotten attached.”
“I know,” Puck sighed, repeating her words. “You’ve seen the way I look at him.”
“I’ve also seen the way he looks at you,” she said.
He stared at her, realizing that what he was feeling in his chest was the beginnings of hope. “And?”
“He looks at you the same way.”
Puck tried to stop the grin from spreading across his face, but he must not have been entirely successful, because Mercedes added, “Don’t go cheering just yet. He’s homeless, still not talking about Lima - even though,” she added quickly as Puck opened his mouth “even though he started tonight. He still has a long way to go.”
“And I sure as hell didn’t help,” Puck muttered.
Mercedes chuckled. “I thought I was going to be the one to mess things up.”
Puck tossed her a rueful grin. “So did I.”
“Hey!” She slapped his arm.
“So,” Puck sighed. “What do we do now?”
“I guess we wait, let him work out some things in his head.”
“In the meantime, he’s out there alone.”
“He has shelters like Aunt Momma’s.”
“Remember his hair when we first saw him? That was the result of a shelter.”
“If that happens, his hair will grow back,” she said.
“I just wanted him here. With us.”
“So did I, Boo,” Mercedes said, resting her head on his shoulder.
They just sat there a while, in silence, engrossed in their own thoughts.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
It’d been a long time since Alex’d had to sleep on the street, and he’d gotten soft. He hadn’t kept up with the news, wasn’t sure about the lay of the land anymore, who was the most dangerous, who’d fallen by the wayside. He didn’t know the safe places to lay his head, the places claimed by people who’d slit his throat before he had a chance to apologize for stepping in the wrong turf. He wasn’t as bad off as he’d been when he first stepped foot in the city, but he wasn’t far off. Before he’d moved into his own place and started hanging out with Mercedes and Puck, he’d have known about Mace long before Momma Cass.
Now he had to find a safe place to bunk down. All of the shelters had long locked their doors for the night, so his goal was to just find a place he could press his back against and wait for morning.
He spent the ride back to Queens mentally reviewing the different alleys and streets he knew, trying to recall the locations of construction, the places where new stores had opened and others had closed. By the time he stepped out of the train station, he had a couple of ideas and headed to the location he thought would be the most favorable.
He’d turned the corner and was heading toward a little nook he’d remember noticing a while back when a man stepped in front of him. Alex stopped but didn’t step back. He could feel the tension radiating off the man, smelled the desperation, and knew he was facing an addict going through withdrawal.
The men he and Puck had encountered earlier hadn’t really been that dangerous, because he’d just been opportunists, guys who wanted an easy buck. Those people could be dissuaded from messing with you when you made it clear that it would be easier for them to just walk away, that dealing with you would be more difficult than they’d originally thought.
But addicts didn’t think clearly. Every thought was consumed on the steps they had to take to keep using. Running on desperation, they would kill for the chance that there might possibly be something of value that they could exchange for their drug of choice. And this is what made them the most dangerous.
Slowly sliding his back behind him, he made the motion with his hand that slid his shiv into his palm.
And then he waited.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
After two days, Puck grew ansty. He hadn’t heard from or seen Alex since the blow-up, and he was worried. He waited until Mercedes was in the shower before grabbing her phone and finding Marcel’s number, dialing it on his phone and walking back into his room.
“It’s Puck, Mercedes’ friend,” Puck said when Marcel picked up. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you’d seen Alex in the last couple of days.”
“I haven’t, but let me ask my mom. Do you think you have reason to be worried?”
“Actually -“ Puck heard the shower stop and realized that he wanted to talk to Marcel personally. “Is there anyway we can get together to talk? I have to be at work in half an hour, but I could be up at the shelter by about about six fifteen, six thirty.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Great,” Puck said, adding, “thanks.”
“No problem, bro,” Marcel said, grin evident in his voice.
Puck hung up feeling optimistic for the first time in days.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Mercedes finished getting ready for her day, listening as Puck got into the shower. She used the time to pick up her phone and make a call.
“Marcel, it’s Mercedes. I was wondering if I could come up so we could talk.”
“What time are you free?”
“Actually, I was thinking maybe I could meet you now. It wouldn’t take me long to get there.”
“Don’t you have class?”
“It’s an intro English class, and my missing one class won’t ruin my GPA. Besides, this is more important.”
“How about I come to you? We could have breakfast.”
Mercedes smiled, the first genuinely pleased one to cross her face in days. “That would be terrific.”
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Marcel hung up the phone and looked apologetically at the young man sitting across from him. “Sorry about that.”
Alex shrugged slightly. Any more movement hurt.
“So what’s going on? Besides -“ Marcel gestured toward Alex’s body.
“I got into a… thing with Puck the other day,” Alex said. “It wasn’t really a fight.” He sighed, watching his finger trace a pattern on the desk. “It was my fault.”
“Did he do this to you?” Marcel suddenly seemed bigger and more foreboding.
“No,” Alex said. “Puck wouldn’t hit me.” Maybe years ago in Lima, but not anymore, he thought.
Marcel sat back in his seat. “Friends fight. Families fight. It happens.” He paused a moment, staring at Alex, and Alex had to fight not to shift in his seat. “Did you do your assignment?”
Alex nodded, feeling something inside seize up.
“How did it go?”
Alex wasn’t sure what to say. “I said something about how Puck used to be in high school.” He frowned.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have…” It was all mixed up in his mind, and he couldn’t tell if the argument had started because of what he’d said or because he’d pushed too much. “I made Puck mad.”
“Why do you think he got mad?”
“I said stuff, stuff I shouldn’t’ve said.” Alex rubbed at his eyebrow. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” he couldn’t seem to find the words, but maybe it was because he just wasn’t sure of what he was trying to say.
“Did you mean to make him angry or hurt his feelings?”
“No!” The last thing he’d wanted was to upset Puck. He hadn’t eaten much in the last couple days, more because he just wasn’t hungry than the fact that he really didn’t have the money. He kept picturing Puck’s hurt face, and it made his stomach cramp up.
He hadn’t realized that he was rubbing his stomach until Marcel looked at it. “Are you having pains inside?”
Jerking his arm back to his bag strap, he shook his head. He knew what to look for with internal injuries, knew to check stomach for sensitivity, knew to check his urine for blood.
“Maybe you should apologize.”
Alex frowned and shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good. I messed up.”
“How do you know unless you try?”
Alex continued to shake his head. “I really messed up.”
Marcel looked at him steadily. “Are you worried that he won’t forgive you or that he will?
“Things have been going really well, right? You had a place and friends and two jobs. And then suddenly you lost your first friend here, and you lost your room.”
Alex tried to blink a familiar sting from his eyes.
“Maybe you thought you didn’t deserve your other friends, so you push them away before you lose them too.”
Frowning, Alex thought about Marcel’s words. Was he doing that? “So, what am I supposed to do?”
“First, you need to know that you do deserve friends. You deserve a good life.” Alex nodded, but evidently that wasn’t enough for Marcel, who sat forward, arm outstretched on the desk, inches away from Alex’s hand. “You need to believe it, in here.” He patted his chest with his other hand. “It won’t happen automatically, but you need to continue to remind yourself.
“Losing Mace and your place aren’t reflections on who you are as a person. Bad things happen to good people; your friendship with Puck and Mercedes is one thing that you can control. Call them. Visit them. Apologize.”
“Okay,” Alex whispered. He had a lot to think about. “Thanks. I’d better get to work.”
“One other thing,” Marcel said as he and Alex left the office. “This didn’t happen, because you chose to talk about the past. I want you to do it again, say something else about the past to someone. Just one thing.”
Alex sighed, and Marcel laughed. “You thought I’d forgotten about that, didn’t you?”
“I’d hoped,” Alex confessed, grinning sheepishly.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Marcel picked Mercedes up from her apartment, and they walked down the street to a diner that she and Puck liked. The waitress nodded at them when Mercedes pointed to a booth along the side.
“You come here often?” Marcel teased.
“How would you get that idea?” Mercedes grinned back.
The waitress handed a menu to Marcel and poured them both glasses of water. They gave her their drink orders, and she left.
“What’s good here?” Marcel asked.
“Everything Puck and I’ve tried here is really good. They put their bananas in the batter for their banana pancakes, and their bacon is really crispy.” Mercedes gave Marcel time to peruse the menu as she tried to organize her thoughts. She was proud of herself for waiting until they’d given their food orders to the waitress before getting to the point of their meeting. “Thanks for meeting me. Things aren’t going well with Alex, and I’m not sure what to do.” She started playing with the condensation on the side of her orange juice glass. “We haven’t seen or talked to him in a couple of days, and I’m worried about him. Because he spent all of his money taking care of his friend Mace, he had to move out of his room a couple of days ago,” she told him, noticing that he didn’t seem surprised. “And then he and Puck had… it wasn’t an argument, really. Alex talked -” she remembered another thing and said excitedly, “he talked about the past! About when he was Kurt!” She shook her head. “But anyway, so Alex was suggesting that Puck go to college, maybe for art or something, and Puck wasn’t interested, and Alex kept pushing, and Puck got defensive, which made Alex freeze up.” She shook her head, remembering the sinking feeling she’d had while watching it all unfold. “It was like I was watching a terrible scene in a play. I wanted it to stop, but it was like I couldn’t do anything but sit there.”
“It was probably better that you let it unfold naturally,” Marcel said, taking hold of one of Mercedes’ hands. “It was between the two of them, and that’s where it belonged.”
She smiled at him, curling her fingers around his. There was something soothing about Marcel. She didn’t know if it had to do with all that he’d gone through in his life, but he seemed confident, sure of himself. She’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with him. She hadn’t realized that such confidence was so sexy. She also liked his size, that he was such a large man. It made her feel more feminine, something that didn’t usually happen - and something that never happened to her back in Lima. It helped that he treated her like a lady, opening doors for her, seating her before he sat himself. He really listened when she talked, and she trusted him.
It also helped that he was sexy as hell.
“I don’t know where he’s sleeping,” she said quietly. “He can’t go to any of the shelters, because they all close before he finishes working at the restaurant.” She’d been lying in bed the night before, unable to sleep, thinking about all of the horrible things that could happen to Alex. She leaned forward, whispering, “what if something happens to him? We’ll never know.”
“The police give Mom regular updates. In fact, sometimes she goes down to the morgue to identify them. She’s the one who ID’d Mace and let Alex know that he was gone.” He caught her eye. “Alex is fine.”
She perked up at that. “You’ve seen him?”
Marcel nodded. “I don’t know where he’s sleeping, but I can tell you that he’s alive and breathing.”
“Did you talk to him? What did he say?”
“I have to keep what he said to me in confidence,” Marcel said, holding up a hand when Mercedes opened up her mouth to protest, “just like I don’t tell anyone what you and I talk about.”
She shut her mouth, glaring at him, because she knew he was right. “Fine,” she said, squeezing his hand to let him know that she understood. “So what should I do?”
“Give Alex a little time. He’s had a lot to deal with this past week: he had to say goodbye to the person who kept him alive when he first got here, he lost the roof over his head, and he had his first fight with a friend. He needs to process it. Just make sure you’re there when he comes back.”
“If he comes back,” she muttered sadly.
“When he comes back,” Marcel corrected.
The food arrived, and Mercedes exhaled, imagining the negative energy flowing out of her. “Enough about that. How are you doing?”
She settled and began to eat as she listened to Marcel discuss his classes and the challenges he’d had since they’d last connected.
Puck ran to the back door, breathless, and pushed the buzzer. Everything had gone wrong. He’d ended up leaving work later than planned because Damn Rebecca had been late - again - and then he’d had to wait for a second train, because the first had been too full. Then, right before his stop, the train had ground to a halt, just sitting there, delayed. If he hadn’t already been running late, he’d have relaxed and enjoyed the view, but instead, he kept glaring at his watch. He’d called Marcel and left a message, but he didn’t know the other man’s schedule. Maybe he had another appointment or had some place to be and wouldn’t have time for Puck.
Damn Damn Rebecca.
“Puck,” Marcel said, opening the door and stepping back. “I got your message.”
“Sorry I’m so late,” Puck muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Marcel said. “It gave me some time to take care of a few things.” He led the way into a small office with a desk, motioning for Puck to take a seat. “So,” Marcel said, closing the door and sitting behind the desk, leaning forward to clasp his hands on the desk.
“It’s about Alex,” Puck said immediately. He figured he’d been late enough that he could forget all of the niceties and head straight to the point. “I’ve lost him. I was an ass to him two days ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. I thought maybe I’d give him some time, not pressure him by showing up at either of his jobs, but Mercedes and I are worried that something’s happened to him. He’s back on the street. I know he’s lived on the street before and all, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to be okay this time.
“Our roommate left the other day, and we were hoping that we could convince Alex to move in with us. We weren’t gonna pressure him, just, you know, start him on the sofa, since he’d slept there once before. And then we were gonna just kind of slide him into the bedroom.” He continued before Marcel had a chance to speak. “We weren’t going to force it on him as much as kind of sneak him into it, hoping he’d realized he’d moved in with us a few months later, when it was too late to make a big deal out of it.”
Puck had to stop to take a breath. “I know it sounds kind of shitty, but we were worried about him, and if he’d decided to move somewhere else, we’d support him; we just didn’t want him sleeping on the streets again. Which he is.
“Mercedes says that you’ve helped her figure out stuff, and you’ve been homeless, so I thought maybe you could help me figure out a way to get Alex back.”
Spent, he sat back.
Marcel smiled. “Feel better getting that off your chest?”
“A little,” Puck admitted.
“Even though I don’t have specifics about your argument, I’m sure you haven’t lost him.”
Puck wanted to believe that; he really did. But as more time passed without word from Alex, the more he thought that he’d screwed up things for good.
“Alex has been through a lot of upheaval in his life. Maybe he just needs some time to figure it out.”
“We were supposed to be there to help him,” Puck said, pressing against the desk. “We’re supposed to be his safe place.”
“That’s a pretty tall order,” Marcel said. “You can’t protect someone from the world, especially someone who’s survived as much as Alex has.”
“I know that,” Puck chuckled. “That night, I picked him up from the restaurant after it closed, and some guy tried to hold us up. He was amazing.” Puck sat back, grinning. “He kicked that guy’s ass, had him running away like a little bitch.”
Marcel smiled. “Does that sound like someone who needs - or wants - to be protected?”
“I guess not. He just looks so frail, even with his hair growing in. He’s too skinny.” Puck paused, thinking. “Yeah, he’s a badass, but he’s just getting to the point where he can look people in the eye again. It’s like…” Puck took a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s like he’s remembering that he matters. He was invisible out there on the street, but he was remembering his worth.”
Marcel tilted his head. “I like the way you put that. ‘Remembering his worth’. Can I steal that?”
Puck couldn’t help but laugh. “Help yourself.”
“How are you feeling about your falling out?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“So whatever made you two angry isn’t going to come up again?”
“I won’t let it.”
Marcel looked thoughtful. “Getting angry is inevitable.”
“Yeah, but I won’t snap at him like I did last time.”
“What’ll you do the next time he pisses you off?”
“I don’t know,” Puck said, feeling himself getting defensive. “I’ll suck it up.”
“You’re the perfect model of self-restraint,” Marcel said, smiling.
Marcel’s amusement was starting to piss Puck off. “Look, I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep him in my life.”
“Are you sure that’s what he needs, though?”
Puck didn’t understand. “Are you saying that he doesn’t need me in his life?”
“I’m saying that pretending isn’t the kind of foundation you want to build a friendship on. There’s nothing wrong with getting pissed off from time to time. Perhaps you two need to work on how you handle it. Because while I can’t claim to be as close to Alex as you are, I know him well enough to know that he’s not going to be able to suck it up.”
Puck’s anger dulled to a simmer. “So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t hide it when I’m pissed off.”
“Anger is part of the human condition. To ignore it isn’t going to benefit either of you. What you want to try to do is work through the anger.”
Puck thought about it. Maybe the mountain was right. Obviously, when things got sticky, Alex’s habit was to run. Maybe Puck’s was to shut down. He wasn’t much of a talkative guy, but he’d make the effort for Alex. Slapping his hands on his thighs, Puck stood. “Thanks, man, I appreciate the time.” He held out his hand.
“Anytime,” Marcel said, returning the firm grip.
Puck walked out of the shelter, small smile on his mouth, plans already forming in his head. He figured he’d wait until after his gig, and then all bets were off.
Chapter 16: New Beginnings
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 15: All Roads Lead to Marcel
Mercedes bit her lip and looked at her watch again. Even with slow train service this time of night, Puck and Alex should’ve already been back. She’d texted Puck, but he probably hadn’t gotten it yet if they were still underground.
She’d already finished her homework and set out the Chinese takeout. She felt a little bit at loose ends and tried to watch TV, but her mind kept straying.
There was no question that Puck would do whatever he had to do to get Alex to come home with him tonight; the difficult part was figuring out how to keep him there, where he belonged.
Eventually, Mercedes heard the key in the lock and had to make fists in order to keep from jumping up and running to the door. She reminded herself to stay calm as they walked into the room, Alex with a box and his customary bag, Puck with his guitar and the carpet they’d given Alex.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Puck turned to Alex. “I want to see them.” Alex cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know what I mean. Where do you hide them?”
Sighing, Alex put down the box. He reached into his jacket pocket and came up with something so small that Mercedes couldn’t make it out from the chair. She stood and walked closer. “Is that a razor blade?” Alex held it out, and she automatically took it.
He reached into his right sleeve and pulled out a wickedly large piece of glass.
“What is that?” Mercedes asked.
“That’s his shiv,” Puck said. “Any more?”
After pausing a moment, Alex sighed and pulled another object out of his sleeve. Mercedes and Puck leaned closer for a better look. “And what’s that?” She asked.
“Another shiv,” Puck answered, “made from a toothbrush, it looks like.”
Mercedes couldn’t figure out how Puck felt about all of these things, but she had to say that even though she hadn’t thought about it, she wasn’t surprised that Alex would have stuff to protect himself. After all, Momma Cass did that whole frisking thing before people were allowed in the shelter, and she wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been a need. Since she was sure she’d missed out on a lot, she decided to stop asking questions until she could figure out what was happening.
“Doesn’t it get crowded in your sleeve there?” Puck asked.
Alex shrugged. “Normally, I keep the glass underneath my sock.” He bent down and pulled up his jeans slightly.
“That’s why you put the box down so slowly back there,” Puck said, flopping onto the sofa.
“Okay, what’s going on,” Mercedes demanded.
Puck sniffed the air. “Is that Chinese?”
Putting her hands on her hips, Mercedes growled, “That depends on whether or not you’re going to tell me what happened.”
“I’ll let the superhero tell you himself while we eat,” Puck suggested. “I’m starving.”
Over bites of General Tso’s chicken and sesame noodles, Mercedes learned about how she almost lost her two boys.
“You both could’ve been killed!” Mercedes fairly shouted, hand to her chest.
“Superman here wasn’t even breathing hard when it was over,” Puck said, and Mercedes could almost see his chest growing with pride.
Alex shrugged, picking up some noodles with his chopsticks. “It wasn’t really a big deal.”
“How is having a gun to your face not a big deal?” Mercedes asked.
Alex chewed thoughtfully, looking her straight in the eye. “I’ve dealt with scarier people and situations.”
Mercedes didn’t know what to say to that.
Fortunately, Puck didn’t have that problem. “Dude, when I get famous, I’m totally hiring you to be my bodyguard.”
Alex smiled slightly.
“Do you think you hurt him badly?” She asked.
Alex shrugged. “Not my problem.”
She felt a little uncomfortable about his blasé attitude toward the violence, although she could understand where he was coming from. She knew she’d grown up in a kind of bubble, and the more she saw out in the real world, the more she appreciated how her parents had sheltered her. It also made her sad to realize that Alex had been sheltered as well when his dad was around, but he’d been thrust into the world unprepared and alone. However, where others around him hadn’t made it, he’d managed to not only survive but thrive. It was her turn to feel pride for her boy.
“I almost forgot.” Puck reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out two brightly colored pieces of paper, handing one to Mercedes and Alex. “This is for our gig next week. Aretha, I know you have rehearsals, so you’re excused - unless for some reason, it’s cancelled. Alex, your presence is mandatory.”
Alex looked uncomfortable.
“We’re going to be playing a couple of those songs I’ve been working on, and I want your opinion.”
“I’m no expert,” Alex said.
“But I trust your opinion,” Puck said, looking at Alex, and it was like Mercedes wasn’t even in the room.
She sat there watching the two of them stare wordlessly at each other and realized that while maybe nothing was happening physically between the two - she would totally know if it were - they were already connecting emotionally. Maybe a few months ago, she would’ve been worried that Puck wasn’t ready for a relationship, but he’d changed since Alex had come into their lives. Mercedes wondered if he realized that he never went out to clubs and bars anymore, never crawled back into the apartment a little after dawn smelling like some stranger he’d met the night before. It was like Alex already filled that part of him that needed that connection.
She worried that it might be too much for Alex, though. Was he any way close to being able to handle a romantic relationship? He was just at the point where he could stand having a hand on his arm or a quick hug. He’d opened up to them a little, but he was still closed off emotionally. Plus, he was still trying to get his shit together. He was back to being homeless, and he’d just buried his friend. He still didn’t talk about before, when he was Kurt.
She just worried that Alex might backtrack if they went too fast, and that was something she refused to let happen if she had any say in the matter.
She looked back down at her flyer, the drawing looking familiar. “Puck, did you draw this?”
Puck’s sudden interest in the food on the coffee table amused her. “Yeah.”
“It’s really good.”
Puck looked up at her, the uncertainty his face reminding her of the artistic side he kept hidden. Sure, he really enjoyed music, and it was something he was comfortable with, but drawing seemed to be his passion. He usually kept it to himself; in fact, the only reason Mercedes knew about it was because one of his drawing books had been peeking out from underneath his bed when she came into his room with a package his mom had shipped to him after he’d recently moved in, and she’d picked it up before he could stop her.
What she’d seen had blown her away. He’d had drawings of everyone from glee, his sister Sarah, his mom, and several of naked women (she didn’t even want to know). They were excellent, and she’d told him so. The look in his eyes as he tried to pretend that the book wasn’t a big deal told her that her approval had meant a lot to him.
At that moment it had hit home for her just how much of his artistic side Puck had hidden from everyone back in Lima. If it hadn’t been for glee, he’d have shoved everything - his music and his drawing - under the bed. She hated to think of how he’d probably still be stifling it if he hadn’t moved up to New York.
“You drew this?” Alex picked up the flyer with more interest, and Mercedes held her breath. She doubted he knew how closely Puck held this to his heart, and she knew he could devastate Puck with the wrong words.
“It’s no big deal,” Puck said, forking more food onto his plate.
Alex brought the paper even closer to his face.
“Dude, don’t inhale it,” Puck said.
“Just looking closer,” Alex murmured. “You’ve included a lot of detail here. How long did it take you to do this?”
Puck shrugged.
“You’re really good.” Alex looked at Puck, obviously surprised. “Why aren’t you going to art school?”
“College isn’t my thing,” Puck said around a mouth of rice and chicken.
Alex cocked his head, a look that had Kurt all over it. “Learn that from experience, did you?”
Puck stared at him. “My grades in high school kind of pointed toward that,” he said dryly.
Alex closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath, and Mercedes got a little worried. Then he opened his eyes, resolve in them. “You spent most of high school either sleeping in the nurse’s clinic or skipping.”
The room became silent as both Mercedes and Puck stared at Alex. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged the past. They’d gotten used to it and had stopped hoping for it or even expecting it. Now that it was here, they didn’t know what to do.
After a few seconds, Alex put down his paper carefully and picked up his chopsticks. “I’m just saying that you didn’t give yourself a chance. You’re way smarter than you think you are, and you’re obviously very talented. You’re surrounded by art schools - the New York Academy of Art, the Art Institute of New York, the School of Visual Arts… I’m sure there’re tons more out there willing to give you a chance. Maybe you could take some New School classes, show that you’re capable of getting good grades, get some good references... I bet you’d get in.”
Puck had stopped chewing when Alex had dropped his memory bomb, but he now resumed. “I’m good with how things are right now. I got my band and the bookstore.”
“You don’t have to choose one thing or the other, and you could probably go part time. People look at you different when you have a college degree.”
“Not the people I hang with.”
“Not now, but say your band gets a deal from a company. You could even take some business classes. I bet some of these colleges around here have some focused on entertainment business. That way, your band doesn’t end up like those ones that have to file for bankruptcy.”
“Alex, I appreciate the thought, but I’m good where I am.”
“Okay. It’s just that in high school, you were obviously smarter than you maybe thought you were.”
“Enough! You don’t see me pushing you to do stuff, like getting rid of that stupid bag you carry around with you everywhere.”
Alex looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself and nodded.
Mercedes had felt it coming, like the way the hairs on her arms would raise right before a storm, but she’d found herself unable to stop the situation. Puck had gone too far, and it was obvious from the look on his face that he realized that.
Alex had somehow managed to get paler, and he gripped the edges of his bag fiercely as he looked like someone had kicked them. Then, as if a switch had clicked in his brain, his face went blank, his eyes emotionless.
An awkward silence stretched over the room, and Mercedes had no idea how to make things more comfortable.
“Shit,” Puck muttered, wiping a hand over his face, “Alex, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Alex said, no inflection in his voice.
“No, it’s not.”
“I pushed; you pushed back.”
“But - ”
“Thanks for dinner,” Alex said, standing.
“We thought you could stay here for the night,” Mercedes said, her voice sounding smaller than she intended.
Alex looked at her, faint smile on his face. “Thanks, but I have plans.”
Mercedes automatically looked at Puck, but this time she knew he couldn’t help. Desperately wanting to make sure he didn’t disappear forever, she grasped for the first thing she thought of. “At least leave your stuff here, where it’ll be safe.”
After a brief second, Alex’s eyes on the carpet, he gave a brief nod followed by a softly spoken, “Thanks.”
“It’s not a problem,” she said earnestly.
She walked him to the door, waiting in silence as he put on his coat and arranged his bag. She opened the door, following him out, propping the door open with her hand. “You know he didn’t mean it,” she said.
He shook his head. “It’s been so long for me… I’m not used to…” he made a flipping motion with his hands and sighed. “Being friends is hard.”
“That doesn’t mean you give up,” she said.
“I’m not giving up.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Puck never cried. He had moments when he’d tear up or fight the urge to cry, but that wasn’t the same thing. No, what mattered was keeping those tear ducts shut the hell down. And usually it wasn’t much of a problem. But tonight, after his epic fuck-up, Puck saw a future without Alex, and it was enough to make him want to curl up into a ball and sob like a baby.
Puck couldn’t recall ever feeling like such a shit. He sat on the sofa, head buried in his hands, listening to Mercedes murmur to Alex outside the door.
He’d ruined it. Totally ruined it. All this time, he’d been worried that Mercedes would say or do something to run Alex off when it had been him and his dumb assed mouth to do it. And now Alex was gone, the only possibility of seeing him again resting on the box sitting by the chair Alex had just vacated - and they wouldn’t have even had that if it hadn’t been for Mercedes’ fast thinking.
He heard Mercedes close the door and walk back into the room, and he fell back against the sofa, head back. “I fucked up,” he said miserably.
Mercedes sat beside him, running a hand through his curly hair. “You made a mistake.”
He turned his head and looked at Mercedes. “Did I lose him?”
“Naw,” Mercedes squirmed into the sofa beside him, making herself more comfortable. “He needs some time to sort things out in his mind. Remember, he hadn’t really dealt with people much until we came along.”
“I was such an asshole.” Puck muttered. “For the first time, the first time, he says something about the past, and I have to jump all over him.”
“Maybe it threw you a little,” Mercedes said. “And maybe he pushed you a little hard, said some things you didn’t want to hear. He knows that. He feels like he screwed up too.”
“He was just giving advice to a friend.”
“Unsolicited advice,” Mercedes reminded him. “He’s not blameless in all this. It’s like he said. He pushed; you pushed back.”
A burst of hope rose inside. “You think so?”
Mercedes nodded. She got a look on her face, like she was debating about something, then said, “You two have gotten pretty close.”
“Yeah,” Puck said, drawing out the word. He knew she had more coming.
“How close?”
“What do you mean?”
“Puck, I see how you look at him. You’ve stopped picking up people in bars - heck, you’ve stopped even going to bars. When was the last time you had sex?”
That startled a half laugh out of Puck. “You’re asking after my sex life?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“You’re worried about Alex,” Puck corrected her.
“No, I’m worried about you both.”
Puck sighed again, turning his head away from Mercedes to stare at the blank screen of the TV. “I’m fine.”
“Are you? You two have gotten attached.”
“I know,” Puck sighed, repeating her words. “You’ve seen the way I look at him.”
“I’ve also seen the way he looks at you,” she said.
He stared at her, realizing that what he was feeling in his chest was the beginnings of hope. “And?”
“He looks at you the same way.”
Puck tried to stop the grin from spreading across his face, but he must not have been entirely successful, because Mercedes added, “Don’t go cheering just yet. He’s homeless, still not talking about Lima - even though,” she added quickly as Puck opened his mouth “even though he started tonight. He still has a long way to go.”
“And I sure as hell didn’t help,” Puck muttered.
Mercedes chuckled. “I thought I was going to be the one to mess things up.”
Puck tossed her a rueful grin. “So did I.”
“Hey!” She slapped his arm.
“So,” Puck sighed. “What do we do now?”
“I guess we wait, let him work out some things in his head.”
“In the meantime, he’s out there alone.”
“He has shelters like Aunt Momma’s.”
“Remember his hair when we first saw him? That was the result of a shelter.”
“If that happens, his hair will grow back,” she said.
“I just wanted him here. With us.”
“So did I, Boo,” Mercedes said, resting her head on his shoulder.
They just sat there a while, in silence, engrossed in their own thoughts.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
It’d been a long time since Alex’d had to sleep on the street, and he’d gotten soft. He hadn’t kept up with the news, wasn’t sure about the lay of the land anymore, who was the most dangerous, who’d fallen by the wayside. He didn’t know the safe places to lay his head, the places claimed by people who’d slit his throat before he had a chance to apologize for stepping in the wrong turf. He wasn’t as bad off as he’d been when he first stepped foot in the city, but he wasn’t far off. Before he’d moved into his own place and started hanging out with Mercedes and Puck, he’d have known about Mace long before Momma Cass.
Now he had to find a safe place to bunk down. All of the shelters had long locked their doors for the night, so his goal was to just find a place he could press his back against and wait for morning.
He spent the ride back to Queens mentally reviewing the different alleys and streets he knew, trying to recall the locations of construction, the places where new stores had opened and others had closed. By the time he stepped out of the train station, he had a couple of ideas and headed to the location he thought would be the most favorable.
He’d turned the corner and was heading toward a little nook he’d remember noticing a while back when a man stepped in front of him. Alex stopped but didn’t step back. He could feel the tension radiating off the man, smelled the desperation, and knew he was facing an addict going through withdrawal.
The men he and Puck had encountered earlier hadn’t really been that dangerous, because he’d just been opportunists, guys who wanted an easy buck. Those people could be dissuaded from messing with you when you made it clear that it would be easier for them to just walk away, that dealing with you would be more difficult than they’d originally thought.
But addicts didn’t think clearly. Every thought was consumed on the steps they had to take to keep using. Running on desperation, they would kill for the chance that there might possibly be something of value that they could exchange for their drug of choice. And this is what made them the most dangerous.
Slowly sliding his back behind him, he made the motion with his hand that slid his shiv into his palm.
And then he waited.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
After two days, Puck grew ansty. He hadn’t heard from or seen Alex since the blow-up, and he was worried. He waited until Mercedes was in the shower before grabbing her phone and finding Marcel’s number, dialing it on his phone and walking back into his room.
“It’s Puck, Mercedes’ friend,” Puck said when Marcel picked up. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you’d seen Alex in the last couple of days.”
“I haven’t, but let me ask my mom. Do you think you have reason to be worried?”
“Actually -“ Puck heard the shower stop and realized that he wanted to talk to Marcel personally. “Is there anyway we can get together to talk? I have to be at work in half an hour, but I could be up at the shelter by about about six fifteen, six thirty.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Great,” Puck said, adding, “thanks.”
“No problem, bro,” Marcel said, grin evident in his voice.
Puck hung up feeling optimistic for the first time in days.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Mercedes finished getting ready for her day, listening as Puck got into the shower. She used the time to pick up her phone and make a call.
“Marcel, it’s Mercedes. I was wondering if I could come up so we could talk.”
“What time are you free?”
“Actually, I was thinking maybe I could meet you now. It wouldn’t take me long to get there.”
“Don’t you have class?”
“It’s an intro English class, and my missing one class won’t ruin my GPA. Besides, this is more important.”
“How about I come to you? We could have breakfast.”
Mercedes smiled, the first genuinely pleased one to cross her face in days. “That would be terrific.”
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Marcel hung up the phone and looked apologetically at the young man sitting across from him. “Sorry about that.”
Alex shrugged slightly. Any more movement hurt.
“So what’s going on? Besides -“ Marcel gestured toward Alex’s body.
“I got into a… thing with Puck the other day,” Alex said. “It wasn’t really a fight.” He sighed, watching his finger trace a pattern on the desk. “It was my fault.”
“Did he do this to you?” Marcel suddenly seemed bigger and more foreboding.
“No,” Alex said. “Puck wouldn’t hit me.” Maybe years ago in Lima, but not anymore, he thought.
Marcel sat back in his seat. “Friends fight. Families fight. It happens.” He paused a moment, staring at Alex, and Alex had to fight not to shift in his seat. “Did you do your assignment?”
Alex nodded, feeling something inside seize up.
“How did it go?”
Alex wasn’t sure what to say. “I said something about how Puck used to be in high school.” He frowned.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have…” It was all mixed up in his mind, and he couldn’t tell if the argument had started because of what he’d said or because he’d pushed too much. “I made Puck mad.”
“Why do you think he got mad?”
“I said stuff, stuff I shouldn’t’ve said.” Alex rubbed at his eyebrow. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” he couldn’t seem to find the words, but maybe it was because he just wasn’t sure of what he was trying to say.
“Did you mean to make him angry or hurt his feelings?”
“No!” The last thing he’d wanted was to upset Puck. He hadn’t eaten much in the last couple days, more because he just wasn’t hungry than the fact that he really didn’t have the money. He kept picturing Puck’s hurt face, and it made his stomach cramp up.
He hadn’t realized that he was rubbing his stomach until Marcel looked at it. “Are you having pains inside?”
Jerking his arm back to his bag strap, he shook his head. He knew what to look for with internal injuries, knew to check stomach for sensitivity, knew to check his urine for blood.
“Maybe you should apologize.”
Alex frowned and shook his head. “It wouldn’t do any good. I messed up.”
“How do you know unless you try?”
Alex continued to shake his head. “I really messed up.”
Marcel looked at him steadily. “Are you worried that he won’t forgive you or that he will?
“Things have been going really well, right? You had a place and friends and two jobs. And then suddenly you lost your first friend here, and you lost your room.”
Alex tried to blink a familiar sting from his eyes.
“Maybe you thought you didn’t deserve your other friends, so you push them away before you lose them too.”
Frowning, Alex thought about Marcel’s words. Was he doing that? “So, what am I supposed to do?”
“First, you need to know that you do deserve friends. You deserve a good life.” Alex nodded, but evidently that wasn’t enough for Marcel, who sat forward, arm outstretched on the desk, inches away from Alex’s hand. “You need to believe it, in here.” He patted his chest with his other hand. “It won’t happen automatically, but you need to continue to remind yourself.
“Losing Mace and your place aren’t reflections on who you are as a person. Bad things happen to good people; your friendship with Puck and Mercedes is one thing that you can control. Call them. Visit them. Apologize.”
“Okay,” Alex whispered. He had a lot to think about. “Thanks. I’d better get to work.”
“One other thing,” Marcel said as he and Alex left the office. “This didn’t happen, because you chose to talk about the past. I want you to do it again, say something else about the past to someone. Just one thing.”
Alex sighed, and Marcel laughed. “You thought I’d forgotten about that, didn’t you?”
“I’d hoped,” Alex confessed, grinning sheepishly.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
Marcel picked Mercedes up from her apartment, and they walked down the street to a diner that she and Puck liked. The waitress nodded at them when Mercedes pointed to a booth along the side.
“You come here often?” Marcel teased.
“How would you get that idea?” Mercedes grinned back.
The waitress handed a menu to Marcel and poured them both glasses of water. They gave her their drink orders, and she left.
“What’s good here?” Marcel asked.
“Everything Puck and I’ve tried here is really good. They put their bananas in the batter for their banana pancakes, and their bacon is really crispy.” Mercedes gave Marcel time to peruse the menu as she tried to organize her thoughts. She was proud of herself for waiting until they’d given their food orders to the waitress before getting to the point of their meeting. “Thanks for meeting me. Things aren’t going well with Alex, and I’m not sure what to do.” She started playing with the condensation on the side of her orange juice glass. “We haven’t seen or talked to him in a couple of days, and I’m worried about him. Because he spent all of his money taking care of his friend Mace, he had to move out of his room a couple of days ago,” she told him, noticing that he didn’t seem surprised. “And then he and Puck had… it wasn’t an argument, really. Alex talked -” she remembered another thing and said excitedly, “he talked about the past! About when he was Kurt!” She shook her head. “But anyway, so Alex was suggesting that Puck go to college, maybe for art or something, and Puck wasn’t interested, and Alex kept pushing, and Puck got defensive, which made Alex freeze up.” She shook her head, remembering the sinking feeling she’d had while watching it all unfold. “It was like I was watching a terrible scene in a play. I wanted it to stop, but it was like I couldn’t do anything but sit there.”
“It was probably better that you let it unfold naturally,” Marcel said, taking hold of one of Mercedes’ hands. “It was between the two of them, and that’s where it belonged.”
She smiled at him, curling her fingers around his. There was something soothing about Marcel. She didn’t know if it had to do with all that he’d gone through in his life, but he seemed confident, sure of himself. She’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with him. She hadn’t realized that such confidence was so sexy. She also liked his size, that he was such a large man. It made her feel more feminine, something that didn’t usually happen - and something that never happened to her back in Lima. It helped that he treated her like a lady, opening doors for her, seating her before he sat himself. He really listened when she talked, and she trusted him.
It also helped that he was sexy as hell.
“I don’t know where he’s sleeping,” she said quietly. “He can’t go to any of the shelters, because they all close before he finishes working at the restaurant.” She’d been lying in bed the night before, unable to sleep, thinking about all of the horrible things that could happen to Alex. She leaned forward, whispering, “what if something happens to him? We’ll never know.”
“The police give Mom regular updates. In fact, sometimes she goes down to the morgue to identify them. She’s the one who ID’d Mace and let Alex know that he was gone.” He caught her eye. “Alex is fine.”
She perked up at that. “You’ve seen him?”
Marcel nodded. “I don’t know where he’s sleeping, but I can tell you that he’s alive and breathing.”
“Did you talk to him? What did he say?”
“I have to keep what he said to me in confidence,” Marcel said, holding up a hand when Mercedes opened up her mouth to protest, “just like I don’t tell anyone what you and I talk about.”
She shut her mouth, glaring at him, because she knew he was right. “Fine,” she said, squeezing his hand to let him know that she understood. “So what should I do?”
“Give Alex a little time. He’s had a lot to deal with this past week: he had to say goodbye to the person who kept him alive when he first got here, he lost the roof over his head, and he had his first fight with a friend. He needs to process it. Just make sure you’re there when he comes back.”
“If he comes back,” she muttered sadly.
“When he comes back,” Marcel corrected.
The food arrived, and Mercedes exhaled, imagining the negative energy flowing out of her. “Enough about that. How are you doing?”
She settled and began to eat as she listened to Marcel discuss his classes and the challenges he’d had since they’d last connected.
Puck ran to the back door, breathless, and pushed the buzzer. Everything had gone wrong. He’d ended up leaving work later than planned because Damn Rebecca had been late - again - and then he’d had to wait for a second train, because the first had been too full. Then, right before his stop, the train had ground to a halt, just sitting there, delayed. If he hadn’t already been running late, he’d have relaxed and enjoyed the view, but instead, he kept glaring at his watch. He’d called Marcel and left a message, but he didn’t know the other man’s schedule. Maybe he had another appointment or had some place to be and wouldn’t have time for Puck.
Damn Damn Rebecca.
“Puck,” Marcel said, opening the door and stepping back. “I got your message.”
“Sorry I’m so late,” Puck muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” Marcel said. “It gave me some time to take care of a few things.” He led the way into a small office with a desk, motioning for Puck to take a seat. “So,” Marcel said, closing the door and sitting behind the desk, leaning forward to clasp his hands on the desk.
“It’s about Alex,” Puck said immediately. He figured he’d been late enough that he could forget all of the niceties and head straight to the point. “I’ve lost him. I was an ass to him two days ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. I thought maybe I’d give him some time, not pressure him by showing up at either of his jobs, but Mercedes and I are worried that something’s happened to him. He’s back on the street. I know he’s lived on the street before and all, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to be okay this time.
“Our roommate left the other day, and we were hoping that we could convince Alex to move in with us. We weren’t gonna pressure him, just, you know, start him on the sofa, since he’d slept there once before. And then we were gonna just kind of slide him into the bedroom.” He continued before Marcel had a chance to speak. “We weren’t going to force it on him as much as kind of sneak him into it, hoping he’d realized he’d moved in with us a few months later, when it was too late to make a big deal out of it.”
Puck had to stop to take a breath. “I know it sounds kind of shitty, but we were worried about him, and if he’d decided to move somewhere else, we’d support him; we just didn’t want him sleeping on the streets again. Which he is.
“Mercedes says that you’ve helped her figure out stuff, and you’ve been homeless, so I thought maybe you could help me figure out a way to get Alex back.”
Spent, he sat back.
Marcel smiled. “Feel better getting that off your chest?”
“A little,” Puck admitted.
“Even though I don’t have specifics about your argument, I’m sure you haven’t lost him.”
Puck wanted to believe that; he really did. But as more time passed without word from Alex, the more he thought that he’d screwed up things for good.
“Alex has been through a lot of upheaval in his life. Maybe he just needs some time to figure it out.”
“We were supposed to be there to help him,” Puck said, pressing against the desk. “We’re supposed to be his safe place.”
“That’s a pretty tall order,” Marcel said. “You can’t protect someone from the world, especially someone who’s survived as much as Alex has.”
“I know that,” Puck chuckled. “That night, I picked him up from the restaurant after it closed, and some guy tried to hold us up. He was amazing.” Puck sat back, grinning. “He kicked that guy’s ass, had him running away like a little bitch.”
Marcel smiled. “Does that sound like someone who needs - or wants - to be protected?”
“I guess not. He just looks so frail, even with his hair growing in. He’s too skinny.” Puck paused, thinking. “Yeah, he’s a badass, but he’s just getting to the point where he can look people in the eye again. It’s like…” Puck took a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s like he’s remembering that he matters. He was invisible out there on the street, but he was remembering his worth.”
Marcel tilted his head. “I like the way you put that. ‘Remembering his worth’. Can I steal that?”
Puck couldn’t help but laugh. “Help yourself.”
“How are you feeling about your falling out?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“So whatever made you two angry isn’t going to come up again?”
“I won’t let it.”
Marcel looked thoughtful. “Getting angry is inevitable.”
“Yeah, but I won’t snap at him like I did last time.”
“What’ll you do the next time he pisses you off?”
“I don’t know,” Puck said, feeling himself getting defensive. “I’ll suck it up.”
“You’re the perfect model of self-restraint,” Marcel said, smiling.
Marcel’s amusement was starting to piss Puck off. “Look, I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep him in my life.”
“Are you sure that’s what he needs, though?”
Puck didn’t understand. “Are you saying that he doesn’t need me in his life?”
“I’m saying that pretending isn’t the kind of foundation you want to build a friendship on. There’s nothing wrong with getting pissed off from time to time. Perhaps you two need to work on how you handle it. Because while I can’t claim to be as close to Alex as you are, I know him well enough to know that he’s not going to be able to suck it up.”
Puck’s anger dulled to a simmer. “So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t hide it when I’m pissed off.”
“Anger is part of the human condition. To ignore it isn’t going to benefit either of you. What you want to try to do is work through the anger.”
Puck thought about it. Maybe the mountain was right. Obviously, when things got sticky, Alex’s habit was to run. Maybe Puck’s was to shut down. He wasn’t much of a talkative guy, but he’d make the effort for Alex. Slapping his hands on his thighs, Puck stood. “Thanks, man, I appreciate the time.” He held out his hand.
“Anytime,” Marcel said, returning the firm grip.
Puck walked out of the shelter, small smile on his mouth, plans already forming in his head. He figured he’d wait until after his gig, and then all bets were off.
Chapter 16: New Beginnings
Entry with links to each chapter