Fic: Curdle (Finn, Puck) PG-13 (3/?)
Title: Curdle
Author: hyperemmalawlz
Fandom: Glee
Chapter: 3/?
Characters/Pairing: Finn, Puck, ensemble
Word Count: 1525
Rating: PG-13 (bordering R)
Summary: "I don't need help," Puck had said, even when he turned up bleeding and almost-crying on Finn's doorstep at 2 AM. A year later, he still needs the help -- and Finn is still slightly incompetent.
Spoilers: Up to 1x22, "Journey."
Warnings: Swearing, discussion of child molestation.
Author's Notes: Written for the glee_angst_meme, the prompt: "Puck's mom has an on again off again boyfriend who abuses him sexually. Now they're on again and said boyfriend has moved into their house. After the last time they broke up, when Puck thought he was gone for good, he told Finn about the abuse." Chapter title comes from the book by Christina Crawford/movie based off it.
3: MOMMIE DEAREST
Puck slept surprisingly well given the circumstances - namely, his former abuser was a few doors away and he wasn't actually in his bed. He did have a hell of a crick in his neck, however, and the only reason he had woken up was because the buzz of the electronic doorbell kept screeching in his ear. He crawled out from under the bed and looked up at the clock, realizing it was just after six AM. Who the fuck was getting him up at six on a Saturday? Some bastard was gonna pay for that.
Puck sprinted out of his room to get the door before his mother could get there, because a sleep deprived/interrupted Helen Puckerman (her maiden name; he had it because his deadbeat dad had never actually married her, thank god) was a fate no-one deserved.
“What is it?” Puck barked before he had even fully swung the door open and was able to see who was standing there. It was Finn, who just stared dumbly.
“Oh, uh, Puck,” Finn said, as if he was surprised Puck would be there. “Hey.”
“Finn,” Puck said through gritted teeth, “It's six. Fucking. AM. Why are you here?”
Finn's eyes went wide as he looked behind Puck, as if there was a vampire or some shit creeping up from behind. “I know, but we've got that... thing.”
Puck raised an eyebrow. “Thing?” he asked, finally looking behind himself to where Finn couldn't keep his eyes from slipping. It was just his mother, watching them grumpily and through sleep-filled eyes - that felt weirdly disappointing.
Finn shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, looking down and generally seeming like he'd rather be wrestling polar bears naked in Antarctica than here. “You know, that thing. The thing... thing.”
Fuck, Finn was a terrible liar. But there was an undertone of something - desperation? - in his voice that made Puck take pity on him (and possibly, made something in his stomach go snap). “Oh, yeah. The thing,” he said casually, flashing an apologetic look over his shoulder to his mother. She shrugged as if she didn't even understand what was going on - actually, given the expression on her face telling him she may pass out right there on the floor, that was probably a real possibility. Whatever, it was permission enough for Puck.
“Okay, let's go,” Finn mumbled, before practically dragging Puck out the door. They started to walk, but Puck waited until they were a bit further away before talking again.
“Okay dude, really. What's this about?”
Finn grimaced. “You know what, Puck. Him.”
“I don't want-”
“To talk about it, I know. And as much as it pisses me off, if you don't want to, I can't - won't - make you. But the thought of you in that house with the freak was killing me, so I'm just trying to get you out of there as much as possible.”
Puck took in a deep breath. “He hasn't... tried anything. Yet. You could have just let me sleep, dude.”
Finn shrugged. “You can sleep at my house,” he says.
“Thanks,” Puck tried to say. He opened his mouth and his lips formed the words, but no sound came out.
*
Puck spent most of that weekend over at the Hudson house with Finn - Hummel and his dad seem pissed about the situation, but with Finn's puppy dog eyes and one of Mrs. Hudson's death glares, they let it slide. Mrs. Hudson was always cool to him, even after the whole babygate mess - Finn had totally lucked out on the awesome mom front, so much so, Puck would never hit on her. Even if she was hot (which, really, she wasn't) - he had morals.
They played video games most of the time, talking about shit that didn't matter, and Finn tried to avoid pressing for more information about the Hugo thing. He didn't really succeed - his worry, anger and confusion got the better of him - but he was trying to be respectful. He managed to avoid pissing Puck off most of the time, so he guessed he was doing okay. Puck only let a few snippets of information slip, like how he had slept under his bed Friday night, or little facts about Life With Hugo - like how one of the times he worked was scheduled when Puck had Glee, just because God was mocking him or something.
That probably wasn't meant to give Finn the idea it did.
*
He skipped Glee the following Wednesday, because, uh, plan didn't work if he was at Glee. Puck would probably kill him if he knew he was doing this, but that was kind of why Finn hadn't told him - something had to be done, and Finn was not the kind to let his best friend suffer without even trying to fix things. He had met Puck's mom; she seemed like a decent lady. A little snappish, and prone towards booze, but decent at heart. Puck adored her, although he would not admit it even if you set wild mountain lions on him. She would have to understand.
He rang the doorbell, leading to her answering in a loose, long flowing skirt and tons of gold jewelry. Finn thought she kind of looked like that chick from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but like, real and stuff. And old. Kurt would probably have some kind of fancy word for this look, but whatever.
She looked confused. “Finn?” she asked. “Puck's-“
“Not home yet, I know,” he cut her off. “That's kind of the whole point. I need to talk to you.”
She frowned, but indicated for him to come inside. He did so, observing the corridor. “Uh, nice house,” he said dumbly, as if it hadn't been his second home since he was like, four.
“Cut to the chase, Finn,” she said, and Finn took a deep breath. It was easy to think of telling her in the abstract and fixing everything, but in reality, it was considerably harder to figure out how to say it.
“Uh, okay. It's about... your boyfriend. And Puck,” he paused, expecting her to comment. She didn't, so he went on. “Listen, the last time you guys broke up, the summer before this one? Puck kind of showed up at my house. And he told he... Hugo had, you know, done stuff to him.”
“Stuff?”
“You know, stuff. Like, stuff he shouldn't have. Like, touching him stuff.”
Helen's jaw locked and her eyes narrowed. “So you're telling me, Hugo sexually abused him?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered, then paused. “Ms. Puckerman... you've got to kick the freak out. Talk to Puck. Get him to press charges or something, I dunno, but we can't let this pervert get away with it.”
Puck's mom took in a deep breath that made Finn think she was about to go on a totally justified rampage of rage against the bastard who had hurt her son. She didn't. “So why isn't Noah telling me this, then?” she asked.
Finn shrugged awkwardly. “Uh, he's not been that clear. He's scared. Or uncomfortable. Or both. Or something.”
“You think he wouldn't trust me. You think he'd trust you more,” she said, folding her arms under her chest. Finn started to get that creeping feeling that things weren't going according to plan.
“Uh, no, it's just... I don't think he wants to hurt you, and he think you'd-“
“You're disgusting,” Helen hissed, cutting him off.
Finn blinked. “What?”
“Coming in here, spreading lies about my family for petty revenge? Don't act like I don't know who you are, Finn. Look, I know what Noah did with your girlfriend was wrong, and you have every right to feel betrayed - but you do not get to try and wreck everything because you can't get over it. It's been almost a year now, move on.”
Finn shook his head in sheer confusion. “Wait, what? That has nothing to do with it! He's your son, and-“
”And then wouldn't I have been the one to notice if something was wrong?” she bites. “I love Noah. And I love Hugo. And I love Sarah. This is my family now, and I am not going to let a self-centered brat like you destroy it over one mistake my son made a long time ago. Now get out of my house, and never lie to me like that again.”
Finn couldn't help but gape. He had gone to her for help! He stumbled out of the Puckerman's house without a goodbye, or a last attempt and convincing her - he felt shell-shocked. He spotted his car and crawled in, trying to into the way his big hand shook on the door handle thing.
He got in, gripped the steering wheel, and broke down crying harder than he had in years.
Author: hyperemmalawlz
Fandom: Glee
Chapter: 3/?
Characters/Pairing: Finn, Puck, ensemble
Word Count: 1525
Rating: PG-13 (bordering R)
Summary: "I don't need help," Puck had said, even when he turned up bleeding and almost-crying on Finn's doorstep at 2 AM. A year later, he still needs the help -- and Finn is still slightly incompetent.
Spoilers: Up to 1x22, "Journey."
Warnings: Swearing, discussion of child molestation.
Author's Notes: Written for the glee_angst_meme, the prompt: "Puck's mom has an on again off again boyfriend who abuses him sexually. Now they're on again and said boyfriend has moved into their house. After the last time they broke up, when Puck thought he was gone for good, he told Finn about the abuse." Chapter title comes from the book by Christina Crawford/movie based off it.
3: MOMMIE DEAREST
Puck slept surprisingly well given the circumstances - namely, his former abuser was a few doors away and he wasn't actually in his bed. He did have a hell of a crick in his neck, however, and the only reason he had woken up was because the buzz of the electronic doorbell kept screeching in his ear. He crawled out from under the bed and looked up at the clock, realizing it was just after six AM. Who the fuck was getting him up at six on a Saturday? Some bastard was gonna pay for that.
Puck sprinted out of his room to get the door before his mother could get there, because a sleep deprived/interrupted Helen Puckerman (her maiden name; he had it because his deadbeat dad had never actually married her, thank god) was a fate no-one deserved.
“What is it?” Puck barked before he had even fully swung the door open and was able to see who was standing there. It was Finn, who just stared dumbly.
“Oh, uh, Puck,” Finn said, as if he was surprised Puck would be there. “Hey.”
“Finn,” Puck said through gritted teeth, “It's six. Fucking. AM. Why are you here?”
Finn's eyes went wide as he looked behind Puck, as if there was a vampire or some shit creeping up from behind. “I know, but we've got that... thing.”
Puck raised an eyebrow. “Thing?” he asked, finally looking behind himself to where Finn couldn't keep his eyes from slipping. It was just his mother, watching them grumpily and through sleep-filled eyes - that felt weirdly disappointing.
Finn shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, looking down and generally seeming like he'd rather be wrestling polar bears naked in Antarctica than here. “You know, that thing. The thing... thing.”
Fuck, Finn was a terrible liar. But there was an undertone of something - desperation? - in his voice that made Puck take pity on him (and possibly, made something in his stomach go snap). “Oh, yeah. The thing,” he said casually, flashing an apologetic look over his shoulder to his mother. She shrugged as if she didn't even understand what was going on - actually, given the expression on her face telling him she may pass out right there on the floor, that was probably a real possibility. Whatever, it was permission enough for Puck.
“Okay, let's go,” Finn mumbled, before practically dragging Puck out the door. They started to walk, but Puck waited until they were a bit further away before talking again.
“Okay dude, really. What's this about?”
Finn grimaced. “You know what, Puck. Him.”
“I don't want-”
“To talk about it, I know. And as much as it pisses me off, if you don't want to, I can't - won't - make you. But the thought of you in that house with the freak was killing me, so I'm just trying to get you out of there as much as possible.”
Puck took in a deep breath. “He hasn't... tried anything. Yet. You could have just let me sleep, dude.”
Finn shrugged. “You can sleep at my house,” he says.
“Thanks,” Puck tried to say. He opened his mouth and his lips formed the words, but no sound came out.
*
Puck spent most of that weekend over at the Hudson house with Finn - Hummel and his dad seem pissed about the situation, but with Finn's puppy dog eyes and one of Mrs. Hudson's death glares, they let it slide. Mrs. Hudson was always cool to him, even after the whole babygate mess - Finn had totally lucked out on the awesome mom front, so much so, Puck would never hit on her. Even if she was hot (which, really, she wasn't) - he had morals.
They played video games most of the time, talking about shit that didn't matter, and Finn tried to avoid pressing for more information about the Hugo thing. He didn't really succeed - his worry, anger and confusion got the better of him - but he was trying to be respectful. He managed to avoid pissing Puck off most of the time, so he guessed he was doing okay. Puck only let a few snippets of information slip, like how he had slept under his bed Friday night, or little facts about Life With Hugo - like how one of the times he worked was scheduled when Puck had Glee, just because God was mocking him or something.
That probably wasn't meant to give Finn the idea it did.
*
He skipped Glee the following Wednesday, because, uh, plan didn't work if he was at Glee. Puck would probably kill him if he knew he was doing this, but that was kind of why Finn hadn't told him - something had to be done, and Finn was not the kind to let his best friend suffer without even trying to fix things. He had met Puck's mom; she seemed like a decent lady. A little snappish, and prone towards booze, but decent at heart. Puck adored her, although he would not admit it even if you set wild mountain lions on him. She would have to understand.
He rang the doorbell, leading to her answering in a loose, long flowing skirt and tons of gold jewelry. Finn thought she kind of looked like that chick from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but like, real and stuff. And old. Kurt would probably have some kind of fancy word for this look, but whatever.
She looked confused. “Finn?” she asked. “Puck's-“
“Not home yet, I know,” he cut her off. “That's kind of the whole point. I need to talk to you.”
She frowned, but indicated for him to come inside. He did so, observing the corridor. “Uh, nice house,” he said dumbly, as if it hadn't been his second home since he was like, four.
“Cut to the chase, Finn,” she said, and Finn took a deep breath. It was easy to think of telling her in the abstract and fixing everything, but in reality, it was considerably harder to figure out how to say it.
“Uh, okay. It's about... your boyfriend. And Puck,” he paused, expecting her to comment. She didn't, so he went on. “Listen, the last time you guys broke up, the summer before this one? Puck kind of showed up at my house. And he told he... Hugo had, you know, done stuff to him.”
“Stuff?”
“You know, stuff. Like, stuff he shouldn't have. Like, touching him stuff.”
Helen's jaw locked and her eyes narrowed. “So you're telling me, Hugo sexually abused him?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered, then paused. “Ms. Puckerman... you've got to kick the freak out. Talk to Puck. Get him to press charges or something, I dunno, but we can't let this pervert get away with it.”
Puck's mom took in a deep breath that made Finn think she was about to go on a totally justified rampage of rage against the bastard who had hurt her son. She didn't. “So why isn't Noah telling me this, then?” she asked.
Finn shrugged awkwardly. “Uh, he's not been that clear. He's scared. Or uncomfortable. Or both. Or something.”
“You think he wouldn't trust me. You think he'd trust you more,” she said, folding her arms under her chest. Finn started to get that creeping feeling that things weren't going according to plan.
“Uh, no, it's just... I don't think he wants to hurt you, and he think you'd-“
“You're disgusting,” Helen hissed, cutting him off.
Finn blinked. “What?”
“Coming in here, spreading lies about my family for petty revenge? Don't act like I don't know who you are, Finn. Look, I know what Noah did with your girlfriend was wrong, and you have every right to feel betrayed - but you do not get to try and wreck everything because you can't get over it. It's been almost a year now, move on.”
Finn shook his head in sheer confusion. “Wait, what? That has nothing to do with it! He's your son, and-“
”And then wouldn't I have been the one to notice if something was wrong?” she bites. “I love Noah. And I love Hugo. And I love Sarah. This is my family now, and I am not going to let a self-centered brat like you destroy it over one mistake my son made a long time ago. Now get out of my house, and never lie to me like that again.”
Finn couldn't help but gape. He had gone to her for help! He stumbled out of the Puckerman's house without a goodbye, or a last attempt and convincing her - he felt shell-shocked. He spotted his car and crawled in, trying to into the way his big hand shook on the door handle thing.
He got in, gripped the steering wheel, and broke down crying harder than he had in years.