The End Came Too Soon
Title: The End Came Too Soon
Character(s)/Pairing: Quinn, Puck, Puck/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,250
Status: Complete
Notes/Warnings: You're all going to hate me for this... WARNINGS for terminal illness and character death.
Summary: For everything Puck and Quinn have been through, neither of them were prepared for this. Now, they have a diagnosis, a harsh truth, and time ticking away. Quinn knows she has to let him go, but... God. She's not ready for this.
They knew the first time they met with Dr. Hargrove that it wasn’t good news. Listened to him talk about the stage four metastatic melanomas that had already spread throughout his body. It wasn’t like high school this time. This time, it wasn’t just a freckle.
It wasn’t right.
He was too young for this.
They hadn’t had enough time.
The five-percent survival rate stared them both in the face as the treatments started. As Puck lost the hair he’d only recently decided to let grow in. As he got sicker and sicker until they could see the sad, pitying looks the doctors and nurses gave them whenever Quinn asked about trying another round of treatment.
“It could work this time, right?”
She knew Puck was tired. Knew that he was holding on with everything he had and that he couldn’t fight forever. The treatments were doing next to nothing. For every step of progress they made, the cancer seemed to shove them three steps back.
He was tired and he was barely holding on, but he was holding on.
For her.
For Beth should she seek them out when she got older.
For the baby in her belly.
Finding out she was pregnant should have been something to be happy about. They were engaged. She was supposed to be rambling on about wedding plans and could they get married in that park he took her to that one time? Instead, Quinn stared down at the positive pregnancy test only days after Puck’s diagnosis. As her belly grew, Puck’s body seemed to shrink, growing weaker and weaker as the cancer ate away.
Her mother preached on about positive thinking and Mercedes’ church was praying for Puck constantly, but it did no good. She saw the way his eyes grew duller every time Dr. Hargrove came in with more bad news. She saw the way his hands shook and the way he’d stare off, mumbling when a hallucination took over. He never told her who he was hallucinating or what. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Knowing might just make it more real. Remind her that she was going to lose him, because it wasn’t a matter of if anymore. It was a matter of when. When was she going to lose him? Would he live long enough to meet his son? They’d already had to accept that there was no hope of him seeing Beth again. There were still another ten years before she’d be old enough to make that decision and their calls to Shelby went unanswered.
Puck was going to die. Quinn knew that.
It didn’t mean that she wanted to accept it.
Every time his heart rate changed. Every time it took that much longer to wake him up. Every time he got lost in another hallucination, Quinn was terrified that this was the end. Was this it? Was this when she was going to lose him? Now?
She was six months pregnant when he asked her to marry him. Pushed himself up in his hospital bed and asked her to marry him, because he wanted her to be his wife before he died.
The girls put her in a pretty white dress that brushed against her knees and gave her a bouquet of roses and orange blossoms. Flowers to represent a love that would last forever even if Puck wouldn’t.
Their family and friends crowded in the small hospital chapel with her priest and his rabbi to watch as Puck stood on shaky feet and swore himself to her. They didn’t promise till death do them part. Couldn’t. Not when it was just another reminder that their time was ticking away.
Puck promised to love her forever, so long as she remembered him.
Quinn promised that she’d never forget.
They were crying when they kissed, tears spilling down their cheeks as they held onto each other. He held her up as much as she was holding him.
They never got a honeymoon.
Puck kept getting sicker. Smaller. Weaker.
Her belly continued to grow and Puck asked her to promise him that she wouldn’t name their son Noah.
“I don’t want to leave him with shoes to fill.”
They agreed on Elijah Noah Puckerman and Puck told him to take care of her for him. It didn’t even occur to Quinn to tell him not to talk like that or say that he’d be fine. They both knew he wouldn’t be. At this point, no one could deny it. Not now while he deteriorated more each day. Not now that the doctors had finally said that continuing treatment would make no difference. The cancer had simply progressed too far and spread through too much of his body.
She was eight months pregnant and he could barely stay awake these days. They caught minutes between his constant sleep as his body tried to gather what little energy it could. Talked about nothing and everything. The weather. The songs they performed in Glee way back when. Beth. Elijah. The honeymoon they never got to have. Puck liked to joke about all the things he’d wanted to do on their honeymoon and that not one plan had them leaving their hotel room. Well… One had, but it also had the potential to get them arrested, so he didn’t think she would have been down for that.
He tried to act normal. Tried to keep up with the little cracks and whatnot, but she knew it was nothing more than a poorly acted show. He knew he wasn’t fooling her. He was tired. He was dying. There was no way to soften that blow.
She could feel Elijah kicking as she sat beside Puck’s bed, one hand intertwined with his while his other lay limply against her belly. He blinked slowly, struggling to stay awake and she knew he was in pain. Knew that he was holding on now because he was scared to leave her alone. Knew that was the only reason he’d hung on as long as he had.
Knew she couldn’t ask him to keep suffering for her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered as he forced his eyes open again. “Puck, it’s okay. You… I’ll be okay.”
“Quinn…”
His throat was soft and slurred with exhaustion and she shook her head. Kissed him softly and gave him as much of a smile as she could muster even as her vision swam.
“You can let go,” she told him. “I’ll… I’ll be okay. You…” Her voice cracked and she squeezed his hand. “You can let go.”
Puck died that night and she didn’t let go of his hand.
She sobbed, one arm wrapped around her belly as Dr. Hargrove called time of death, harsh sobs wracking her entire frame. She struggled to breathe as the weight of it all came down on her chest. Dots danced across her vision and-Oh, God. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this without him. She wasn’t ready.
“I’ll be okay.”
She’d lied. She wasn’t okay. She needed him. She needed him back.
“Puck…”
God, please. Give him back to her. Please. They hadn’t had enough time. She couldn’t…
Her water broke and she cried harder. Didn’t stop sobbing as she was taken to Labor and Delivery. Didn’t stop sobbing as she clutched a nameless nurse’s hand and pushed. Didn’t stop sobbing as her son was laid on her chest.
He looked like Puck.
If it was possible, she cried harder.
The End
Character(s)/Pairing: Quinn, Puck, Puck/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,250
Status: Complete
Notes/Warnings: You're all going to hate me for this... WARNINGS for terminal illness and character death.
Summary: For everything Puck and Quinn have been through, neither of them were prepared for this. Now, they have a diagnosis, a harsh truth, and time ticking away. Quinn knows she has to let him go, but... God. She's not ready for this.
They knew the first time they met with Dr. Hargrove that it wasn’t good news. Listened to him talk about the stage four metastatic melanomas that had already spread throughout his body. It wasn’t like high school this time. This time, it wasn’t just a freckle.
It wasn’t right.
He was too young for this.
They hadn’t had enough time.
The five-percent survival rate stared them both in the face as the treatments started. As Puck lost the hair he’d only recently decided to let grow in. As he got sicker and sicker until they could see the sad, pitying looks the doctors and nurses gave them whenever Quinn asked about trying another round of treatment.
“It could work this time, right?”
She knew Puck was tired. Knew that he was holding on with everything he had and that he couldn’t fight forever. The treatments were doing next to nothing. For every step of progress they made, the cancer seemed to shove them three steps back.
He was tired and he was barely holding on, but he was holding on.
For her.
For Beth should she seek them out when she got older.
For the baby in her belly.
Finding out she was pregnant should have been something to be happy about. They were engaged. She was supposed to be rambling on about wedding plans and could they get married in that park he took her to that one time? Instead, Quinn stared down at the positive pregnancy test only days after Puck’s diagnosis. As her belly grew, Puck’s body seemed to shrink, growing weaker and weaker as the cancer ate away.
Her mother preached on about positive thinking and Mercedes’ church was praying for Puck constantly, but it did no good. She saw the way his eyes grew duller every time Dr. Hargrove came in with more bad news. She saw the way his hands shook and the way he’d stare off, mumbling when a hallucination took over. He never told her who he was hallucinating or what. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Knowing might just make it more real. Remind her that she was going to lose him, because it wasn’t a matter of if anymore. It was a matter of when. When was she going to lose him? Would he live long enough to meet his son? They’d already had to accept that there was no hope of him seeing Beth again. There were still another ten years before she’d be old enough to make that decision and their calls to Shelby went unanswered.
Puck was going to die. Quinn knew that.
It didn’t mean that she wanted to accept it.
Every time his heart rate changed. Every time it took that much longer to wake him up. Every time he got lost in another hallucination, Quinn was terrified that this was the end. Was this it? Was this when she was going to lose him? Now?
She was six months pregnant when he asked her to marry him. Pushed himself up in his hospital bed and asked her to marry him, because he wanted her to be his wife before he died.
The girls put her in a pretty white dress that brushed against her knees and gave her a bouquet of roses and orange blossoms. Flowers to represent a love that would last forever even if Puck wouldn’t.
Their family and friends crowded in the small hospital chapel with her priest and his rabbi to watch as Puck stood on shaky feet and swore himself to her. They didn’t promise till death do them part. Couldn’t. Not when it was just another reminder that their time was ticking away.
Puck promised to love her forever, so long as she remembered him.
Quinn promised that she’d never forget.
They were crying when they kissed, tears spilling down their cheeks as they held onto each other. He held her up as much as she was holding him.
They never got a honeymoon.
Puck kept getting sicker. Smaller. Weaker.
Her belly continued to grow and Puck asked her to promise him that she wouldn’t name their son Noah.
“I don’t want to leave him with shoes to fill.”
They agreed on Elijah Noah Puckerman and Puck told him to take care of her for him. It didn’t even occur to Quinn to tell him not to talk like that or say that he’d be fine. They both knew he wouldn’t be. At this point, no one could deny it. Not now while he deteriorated more each day. Not now that the doctors had finally said that continuing treatment would make no difference. The cancer had simply progressed too far and spread through too much of his body.
She was eight months pregnant and he could barely stay awake these days. They caught minutes between his constant sleep as his body tried to gather what little energy it could. Talked about nothing and everything. The weather. The songs they performed in Glee way back when. Beth. Elijah. The honeymoon they never got to have. Puck liked to joke about all the things he’d wanted to do on their honeymoon and that not one plan had them leaving their hotel room. Well… One had, but it also had the potential to get them arrested, so he didn’t think she would have been down for that.
He tried to act normal. Tried to keep up with the little cracks and whatnot, but she knew it was nothing more than a poorly acted show. He knew he wasn’t fooling her. He was tired. He was dying. There was no way to soften that blow.
She could feel Elijah kicking as she sat beside Puck’s bed, one hand intertwined with his while his other lay limply against her belly. He blinked slowly, struggling to stay awake and she knew he was in pain. Knew that he was holding on now because he was scared to leave her alone. Knew that was the only reason he’d hung on as long as he had.
Knew she couldn’t ask him to keep suffering for her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered as he forced his eyes open again. “Puck, it’s okay. You… I’ll be okay.”
“Quinn…”
His throat was soft and slurred with exhaustion and she shook her head. Kissed him softly and gave him as much of a smile as she could muster even as her vision swam.
“You can let go,” she told him. “I’ll… I’ll be okay. You…” Her voice cracked and she squeezed his hand. “You can let go.”
Puck died that night and she didn’t let go of his hand.
She sobbed, one arm wrapped around her belly as Dr. Hargrove called time of death, harsh sobs wracking her entire frame. She struggled to breathe as the weight of it all came down on her chest. Dots danced across her vision and-Oh, God. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this without him. She wasn’t ready.
“I’ll be okay.”
She’d lied. She wasn’t okay. She needed him. She needed him back.
“Puck…”
God, please. Give him back to her. Please. They hadn’t had enough time. She couldn’t…
Her water broke and she cried harder. Didn’t stop sobbing as she was taken to Labor and Delivery. Didn’t stop sobbing as she clutched a nameless nurse’s hand and pushed. Didn’t stop sobbing as her son was laid on her chest.
He looked like Puck.
If it was possible, she cried harder.
The End