Fic: Sweet Child O' Mine (12b/13?)
Media: Fic
Title: Sweet Child O’ Mine (12b/13?)
Author: likethedirection
Friendship/Pairings: Kurt+Puck, canon pairings as of 2x22
Spoilers: To be safe, we’ll say everything through Season 2?
Rating: PG-13+
Summary: Puck comes to Kurt for help, and Kurt figures it can’t hurt to do a friend a favor. Unfortunately, everything is more complicated when there’s a baby involved.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6a | 6b | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10a | 10b | 11a | 11b | 12a
~*~
Kurt didn't take the direct route home, instead winding around a bit and exchanging less-than-mature threats of virtual-reality doom with Puck, carefully not thinking about how he was currently playing hookie from glee club. Puck's eyes were still holding on to a tiny, haunted glimmer from before, but he was smirking, looking more relaxed with every jab he took at Kurt's video game prowess, so on the whole Kurt was feeling pretty good about the state of things. Life wasn't wonderful, exactly, but it was okay. They were okay.
At least, until they turned onto Kurt's street and slowed down at the sight of two cars in the driveway that did not belong to anyone who lived there, and Puck paled and said, "Oh, shit."
Kurt stared, because he recognized both of those cars, and his sentiment was the same.
"Shit," Puck hissed again, "what the hell, that's my--"
"Your mom's Volvo," Kurt finished for him, vaguely remembering the car from the weeks it spent in the middle of his dad's workshop and the tang of irony as he'd worked on it.
"So what's that other one?" Puck asked, and Kurt swallowed hard, because that was the one he was worried about.
"That's Shelby's car."
He looked to Puck, but Puck didn't look back right away, his gaze locked on the car seat visible through the back window. When he did tear his eyes away from it, they just stared at each other for a second, eyes a little wide.
"Dude, did you tell your dad what we were doing all summer?"
"No! Of course not." Kurt looked back to the driveway, mind racing with possibilities that took a half-second each to crumble. "I never told him anything. You didn't tell your mom--"
"You kidding?"
"Just checking."
They fell silent, sort of stuck, looking between the driveway and each other. Almost to himself, Puck murmured, "What the hell are they doing here?" Louder, with the defensive bite slipping into his voice, "Were they just gonna straight-up ambush us?"
"We're supposed to be at glee club," Kurt reminded him, coming to himself enough to park properly on the side of the street. "And there was no way for them to know you'd be coming back with me. Until a half hour ago, we didn't know that."
"Then what the hell’s going on?!"
"Hey." Kurt held up a placating hand. "Calm down."
He straightened the wheel and shifted into Park, then turned off the engine and did nothing else. "It's not like we've done anything wrong--that includes you," Kurt added, flashing on a punching bag and meeting Puck's eyes for emphasis. "We saw Shelby two days ago and everything was fine. Maybe--"
His phone buzzed in his bag. A glance at the screen, and Kurt pursed his lips. “It’s my dad.”
It kept buzzing while they frowned at each other, until Kurt huffed a deep breath and answered. “Hi, Dad!”
It was about an octave higher than his usual, and he winced immediately while Puck groaned a, “Dude,” from off to the side.
“Hey, kiddo,” his dad’s voice replied. “Answer me something. You two ever plan on coming inside, or should I bring out a couple sleeping bags?”
Busted. “…Ah,” was all Kurt could quite get out, glancing toward the front window and seeing, sure enough, a vaguely Dad-like silhouette through the curtains. He pointed it out to Puck with a tilt of his head and earned another hissed curse. Kurt cleared his throat. “No. Um. No sleeping bags necessary. We’ll…be right in. Is there...something we should be aware of?”
“You’re not going to jail, kid. Door’s unlocked. And tell Puckerman to watch the language.”
“Right. Will do.”
The second Kurt ended the call, an elbow knocked hard into his arm, accompanied by a full-voiced, “Dude!”
“Stop saying ‘dude!’ That is not a word!” Kurt snapped back, rubbing his arm.
“What the hell’d you do that for? Now we’ve gotta go in!”
“We’d be going in anyway, Noah, he knows we’re out here.”
“Maybe I don’t want to go in!”
“Fine! Then I’ll call him back and tell him I’m taking you home firs--”
“No way in hell, dude, I’m going the fuck in!”
“Then why are you yelling at me?”
“I don’t know!”
“Well, stop it!”
“Fine!”
The silence was as sudden as the shouting, and they glared at each other for a second, panting a little.
A moment and a few more breaths, and Kurt lowered his voice. “Feel better?”
Puck’s glare slowly gave way to a perplexed frown. “Kinda.”
“Good. Me too.” Kurt finally pulled the keys out of the ignition. “My dad says to stop swearing.”
“He seriously heard me?” Puck popped the handle on the door but didn’t open it quite yet. “No wonder you’re a freaking ninja. Shit.”
A faint grin crossed Kurt’s face as he opened his door. “You should have seen my mom.”
“Mad skills, huh?”
“Oh, yes.” Kurt shouldered his bag and shut the door behind him. “I don’t think we’re in trouble.”
“Keep dreaming,” Puck grumbled next to him. “When they call in reinforcements, you’re always in trouble.”
Kurt led the way to his front door, letting Puck drag his feet behind and vaguely wondering if walking up to a doorway with Puck would ever be a normal, non-stress-inducing thing. At the moment, the chances weren’t looking awesome.
His dad met them inside, regarding them from under the brim of his cap. “Aren’t you boys supposed to be at glee club?”
Kurt took off his shoes in the doorway and hung up his bag, avoiding eye contact, he was skipping a school activity ugh. “We...opted out. Shoes, Noah,” he added over his shoulder to Puck, who was definitely trying not to look like he was hiding behind him, and that was just hilarious enough after this day/week/public school career that Kurt almost gave up on everything and burst into inappropriate hysterics, but he was beaten to the impulse when a high, now-familiar laugh bubbled out of the living room.
He immediately turned toward the sound, Puck mirroring him in the corner of his eye. Glancing at Puck, then at his dad, he asked at a lower volume, “What’s going on?”
“You’re busted, that’s what.” He tilted his head toward the living room. “Come on.”
Really, nothing about this setup should have been surprising considering the amount of warning they’d gotten, but walking in, it still made Kurt want to double-take and demand to know who had Photoshopped his living room. Shelby in that chair, glancing up at them with a quirked eyebrow, instead of clicking through her laptop on her leather couch: wrong. Carole chatting amicably with had-to-be-Mrs.-Puckerman (and he realized, huh, he’d never actually gotten a good look at Puck’s mom before) on the couch like they were some sort of couch-chatting-buddies: wrong. Beth, bouncing happily in Mrs. Puckerman’s lap...in her grandmother’s lap.
...Not wrong. Not really.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” his dad said as he led them in, taking a seat in his own chair, and wow, a lot of adults looking at them at the same time.
Carole smiled and leaned down by Beth, getting her attention with a little gasp. “Who’s that, Beth?” she asked, and Beth looked up, following Carole’s pointed finger in their direction. “Look who’s here!”
Beth had let out a squeak and started wriggling her way out of Mrs. Puckerman’s lap before Carole had gotten the last word out, and as soon as Mrs. Puckerman had helped her down, Beth ran across the carpet in her toddling way, nearly faceplanting but just managing to bump gently into Puck’s legs instead, bracing herself on them and looking up at him with a triumphant, “Da!”
Oh, thank you, Kurt whispered silently to the universe while Puck’s mouth twitched and he bent to pick her up, easy and automatic, with a barely-audible murmur of, “Hey, baby-girl.” Thank you for giving him this now, here, today.
The moment only lasted a second before Puck seemed to remember there were other people in the room and glanced up at his mom, pressing his lips together and seeming to de-age by ten years, looking a little like he was considering clutching Beth to him and running out the door. That wouldn’t be good. So Kurt cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. He glanced from Mrs. Puckerman to Carole to Shelby, suddenly a little uncertain himself. “So...how much trouble are we in?”
Reassuringly and disturbingly, all three women just smiled.
A few pointed looks later, he was sitting on a couch full of Puckermans while Carole half-perched on the arm of his dad’s chair, and Shelby was leaning forward.
“I had an idea for how to thank you guys for being such a big help this summer,” she said, “but I didn’t want to bring it up until I had your parents’ OK. You both just gave me your cell numbers, so I checked the phone book.” She hit them both with the quizzical eyebrow again. “Here I was thinking they already knew. I’ve been out of teaching too long, I’m forgetting how teenagers work.”
“Not all of them. Just mine,” Mrs. Puckerman said, but her voice was soft, her eyes on Beth until she lifted them to Puck. “Noah, why would you lie about this?”
Puck carefully studied the blocks Beth was clacking together in his lap. “I wasn’t lying. I just didn’t talk about it.”
Kurt dared a glance up to the Dad-and-Carole Corner, and fought a wince at the pair of expectant gazes he was hit with. Oh, look at that, Beth’s blocks really were interesting. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
“By me.” Puck finally lifted his head, panning the room. “It was my idea, and I told him not to tell. He didn’t do anything bad.”
“Neither did he,” Kurt was saying before planning to, his gaze landing on Mrs. Puckerman. “...Hi. Kurt Hummel. We haven’t actually met. But Noah didn’t do anything wrong. He asked me if I would drive him, so he could see Beth without breaking your rules about the car. And we were supervised--”
“Totally, Ms. C was there the whole time. And I paid Kurt back for gas and stuff,” Puck assured his mom.
“And I didn’t accept a penny of it,” Kurt assured his dad.
“And it wasn’t even gonna be a thing, I was just gonna see her and make sure she was okay--”
“--but oh my God if you could have seen that first day, it was like real, actual magic, and there was absolutely no way we could just not go back--”
“--so we figured we go back for the summer, like, just until school starts--”
“--and that was all me, and it was a terrible and presumptuous and inappropriate assertion because Noah absolutely wants to be a part of Beth’s life and he really, really should be--”
“--I mean, only if you want, I mean, if that’s okay, but point is ninja-kid’s the one who made it happen but it was totally my idea--”
“--and that’s why we were hanging out all summer and, Dad, were not even remotely dating--”
“--and...what?”
“Nothing.”
Beth waved her blocks in the air and helpfully contributed, “Yeah!”
A beat of silent stares, and all four adults burst out laughing. (Well. Kurt’s dad snorted and stretched his finger and thumb over his mouth, which was basically the same thing.) Shelby held a hand in their direction, as though presenting them on stage. “All summer,” she said with that wide grin that looked an awful lot like Rachel’s, and that just set them off harder, and Kurt frowned at Puck, who frowned back, then they both frowned at Beth, who was giggling along looking thrilled at her newfound superpower, and, what?
Carole finally started to recover, wiping at her eyes and managing through a dwindling chuckle, “Oh, you poor things.” She swatted his dad in the arm. “Burt, you asked him if they were dating?”
“How was I supposed to know they were top-secret babysitters?” He couldn’t say it with a straight face, and stretched his fingers over his mouth again for a second before moving his hand to point between the two of them. “You make a good case for each other and all, but what I can’t figure out is why you think you’ve got to. Why the big secret?”
He was mostly looking at Kurt, just like Mrs. Puckerman was mostly looking at Puck, and Kurt bit his lip, exchanging another glance with Puck before replying, “Because...as evidenced…” he swept a look around the room, “parents talk to each other. And, generally, to their children.”
The adults stared at him, waiting, and he sighed. “Help?”
Puck took over, surprisingly coherently for someone with a one-year-old trying to climb him like a tree. “We didn’t--oof--didn’t think you’d be pi--mad. Well. I dunno,” he amended, glancing at his mother. “But we knew who would be.”
Shelby seemed to get there first, inhaling quietly when she made the connection and then looking...something. Something like a home video over tea while it rained outside.
Kurt lowered his eyes. “Suffice to say that we’ve been put in the position of defending our actions kind of a lot lately.”
“To freaking everyone--ow, chill out, monkey.”
“And we’ve been trying to fix that. With...varying levels of success.” Beth started to whine when Puck drew the line at climbing on his head, and Kurt laid a hand on her back with a murmured, “Chut, chérie. Tout va bien,” as the French always seemed to at least distract her. He was unduly proud when she paused her climbing to tilt her head at him. “Hence, you know. Finn.”
“And Quinn.”
“And Rachel.”
“And...yeah.”
Kurt could only hold Carole’s knowingly sympathetic gaze for a second before it was more appealing to hold a staring contest with his socks, and Shelby sighed. “No wonder you two looked so exhausted on Wednesday. You’ve been doing more to earn this reward than anybody knew, huh?”
Reward. She’d said that earlier. Kurt pried his eyes up from the floor, and he and Puck exchanged what felt like their eighteenth glance of the last half hour, this one just this side of clueless. “You don’t need to give us anything, Shelby. I mean, at least not me. I’m just the driver.”
“Dude, whatever.”
Shelby gave Kurt a look. “I’m with Noah on this one. Which is why this is for both of you.” She leaned forward over her crossed legs, folding her hands, and focused on Puck. “First, though, Noah, I owe you an apology. I was underestimating you in a lot of ways, and that wasn’t fair. You’re not me, and the mistakes you make won’t be the same ones I made. Kurt drove out to my house in a downpour to make me see that.” She turned a warm smile on Kurt, then on his dad and Carole. “He did a good job.”
He snuck a peek at them, and his dad looked proud but not surprised, and Carole winked at him, and right, sock-staring-contest rematch, ready set go.
“I’ve already accepted the job in Chicago, and I’ve signed the lease for an apartment. The moving van is rented for Sunday, it’s all signed and sealed. Noah and I have talked about having a Skype-schedule with Beth, but I know it’s not the same as being there.”
Puck’s arms tightened around Beth--and Kurt swallowed, because less than an hour ago he’d been holding Puck in the locker room while he sobbed, I don’t want her to go still echoing between his ears--and Shelby’s softening tone told him she saw.
“So I want to help get you there.”
...Was not what he’d expected Shelby to say. Next to him, Puck tentatively lifted his head.
“When I accepted the job,” she went on, “my plan was to take Beth to the city and not look back, and up until a year ago, that’s how I’d always lived my life. When I made a change, I’d try to forget what was behind me--good and bad. But nothing really goes away, and that’s not what I want to teach Beth. Not about life, and not about people.” She lowered her eyes to Beth, cuddled in Puck’s lap and humming a nameless tune, absorbed in her blocks again while Puck idly stroked her hair. “This is what I want to teach her,” she said, nodding at the touch. “That there are people here who love her, and two in particular who have gone so far above and beyond to show her that. Two people who are kind, and brave, and worthy of her. And that’s not the kind of person that you just leave behind.”
“That,” Beth said, distracting Kurt from figuring out what to even do with a compliment like that by looking up at him and holding out one of her blocks. He absently took it, murmuring a thank-you. “Um, so...what does that mean?”
“Whoa, hold up, are we getting adopted, because that would be messed-up as h--”
“Really, Puck?”
“What?”
Shelby laughed. “No, Noah. Very big no. What I do want to do, with your parents’ permission, is help you guys be able to still see Beth on a regular basis. I’m working with a finite budget for this, but what I’d like to do is cover expenses for you guys to come and see us in Chicago.” She looked at Kurt. “Both of you.”
Puck’s hand stopped moving, coming to rest on Beth’s back. Barely audible, he said, “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Shelby confirmed. “It won’t be every week, and you’ll have to talk with your parents about what means of travel you’d all be most comfortable with, but I’m pretty confident that I can swing a weekend trip for you guys once a month, whether it’s gas money, Megabus tickets, what have you. I can cover a hotel stay, or you can stay with us. Again, up to your parents.” She smiled at Beth, who was standing up on Puck’s lap to study him again, gingerly mapping his face with her hands. “At the very least, we can try it for a few months and figure out what works best.”
Kurt glanced at his dad, a little incredulous. He got a nod in return, and surprised himself with the thrill of excitement that went through him at the thought of it, breaking his face into a smile. “That’s amazing! I mean, that we can come, and that’s really generous, and you don’t even have to pay for it if it’s any trouble, we can figure it out, I mean--”
“Don’t bother, Kurt, I’ve already haggled with one Hummel today. I’m taking care of it and you can’t stop me,” Shelby said, nodding in the direction of his dad, who held up his hands in surrender. “Frankly, I wish I could do more. But if you guys are both okay with it, I really want to help make this happen, and I don’t want there to be any question that I’m on board with you guys. I am. And I’d love for Beth to be able to see her dad, and her favorite uncle, as much as she can.”
Puck lifted up his eyes from Beth’s face, her hands still brushing against his cheeks, and for the first time all day, he smiled.
-
One of the biggest things Kurt was learning from the last few months came in three parts.
First: As far back as he could remember, whenever the people in his life were given the choice to take his side or someone else’s, he had always assumed they wouldn’t choose him.
Second: As far back as he could remember, Puck had seemed to assume the same thing.
Third: They were wrong.
-
Shelby didn’t stay too much longer after they’d accepted her offer, but Kurt had his suspicions that she did stay longer than she strictly needed to. Long enough for Beth to make her way around the room, absorbing attention like the tiny diva Kurt was convinced she’d grow up to be. Long enough for his dad and Puck’s mom to thoroughly embarrass them with toddler-stories (Kurt held that while his Tablecloth Mermaid Princess Phase at age two was not his proudest moment, Toddler Puck still won the Embarrassing Fail Award for wriggling away mid-diaper-change, attempting a dramatic escape via the doggy door, and ending up stuck and pantsless), and for Puck and himself to tell the extremely abridged and censored version of what was going on with some of their friends, which had Puck’s mom sitting up straight, her eyebrows shooting up (“Jacob Ben Israel did what? Oh, I know that boy’s mother. She will be hearing from me.”).
And it was just that. They listened. They weren’t upset, or disappointed, or...he really didn’t know what he’d thought they would be, but whatever it was, they weren’t it. They were just their parents. On their side.
Beth was in Mrs. Puckerman’s arms again when she finally ran out of steam, blinking slowly and curling up with a foot in Puck’s lap, his thumb idly stroking her calf. Shelby was kind enough not to take Beth from them right away, announcing that she’d better be going and taking her time getting her jacket. “So we’re on for tomorrow, right, guys?” she said, brushing imaginary lint from it, slowly and quietly shutting the coat closet door. “McGinty Park, one last Lima hurrah for Beth and her boys?”
Puck nodded, his eyes on the steadying rise and fall of Beth’s back, and Kurt answered for them both, “We’ll be there. And thank you again. Really.”
“You earned it,” she said. “Thank you.”
“We could help.”
Kurt followed Puck’s voice, quiet to let Beth sleep, and Puck only looked up after a second. “Sunday. You’re moving. We could help. Like, lift heavy stuff. Or watch Beth. Or…” he glanced between his mom and Kurt’s dad, then dropped his eyes back to Beth, “...something.”
One more day. They could give Puck one more day. “We are friends with half the school football team,” Kurt offered, thinking fast. “We could put the word out, save you some moving expenses?”
“That’s between you and your parents,” Shelby said slowly, taking the safe path. “But you guys know you’re always welcome, whether you’re lifting heavy things or not. I could always use another set of eyes on Beth.”
“We’ll talk,” Kurt’s dad said, and Puck’s mom nodded, and Carole patted his dad on the back, and Kurt exchanged sly-to-smug looks with Puck. In the bag.
Finally Shelby seemed to run out of ways to stall, and Beth barely stirred as she picked her up. “It was lovely meeting you all. Thanks for having us,” she said, carefully getting Beth’s arms through her jacket sleeves. “You’re raising some really incredible young men, and I hope I’m not the first one to say so. Not every seventeen-year-old would do what these two have done, for each other or for Beth.” She smiled. “I might be calling you for pointers.”
She waved to Puck and Kurt as his dad and Carole got up to see her out, and Mrs. Puckerman rose with them, looking at her watch. “Oh, Noah, it’s almost time to pick up your sister from soccer. I’m going to go let Kurt’s parents know. You just get your things together.”
Puck made an affirmative noise, and she followed Kurt’s dad and Carole outside, and then it was just the two of them left in the living room. Kurt let out his breath, feeling like he’d been holding it, and Puck seemed to sink a little into the back of the couch. “Well,” Kurt said, “that happened.”
“Yeah.” Puck glanced sideways at him. “You good?”
“Hm?”
Puck gestured toward the kitchen with his head. “Your dad and Hudson’s mom. She called them your parents.”
Kurt blinked, replaying the comment in his head. “I...didn’t even notice.”
He took exactly five seconds to flick through the bottomless pit of things he could feel about that, then took another deep breath. Puck was still watching him, and Kurt pressed his lips together and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Puck eyed him a bit longer before nodding, then hefting himself to his feet, stretching and heading to the kitchen while Kurt followed suit.
“Do you still want to stay tonight?” Kurt asked while Puck slung his jacket back on. “The invitation is still open.”
“Nah,” Puck said, throwing a glance over his shoulder toward the driveway, where his mom was exchanging some parting words with Kurt’s dad and Carole. “She’s finally letting me near the car, better take it while I got it. If I don’t go home, she’ll just call me ten times to ask about shit. Easier if I deal with it in one shot.”
“Yeah.” Kurt followed his gaze and sighed. “I have a feeling I’ve got some explaining to do, too.”
“Noon tomorrow, though, right?”
“I’ll be there at a quarter to.”
“Sweet.”
Puck hovered there for a second, his jaw working like he was chewing on words, and he inhaled, paused, then seemed to give up and let out his breath. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Kurt studied him a second longer, the looseness creeping back into his stance but the weariness of an emotional day written all over him. Quieter, even though no one was in the house to hear, he asked, “You sure you’re okay?”
Puck huffed a breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets and angling to the side. “Puckmeister’s always okay.”
Kurt looked flatly back. “His Illustrious Highness believes you.”
Puck blinked hard and squinted at him, and Kurt lifted an eyebrow. “You want to speak in third-person with questionable nicknames, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Exhaustion was probably the main reason Puck stared at him and then exhaled the closest thing to a real laugh he’d managed all week, but Kurt grinned back with not a little bit of pride anyway. “You laugh. I see a world of missed opportunity.”
Glancing out the window again, where it looked like Kurt’s dad and Carole were heading inside, Puck shook his head and pushed past him. “Dork.”
“Heathen.”
“Your hair’s still screwed up.”
“Stylishly tousled.”
“You wish.” Puck paused in the doorway, glancing at the clock. “Glee club’s over. That song--”
Kurt groaned. “Oh God, screw it. I’m over it. Besides, we skipped today, which means everyone else probably performed their assignments today, which means it will become painfully obvious on Monday that I’m the only one who hasn’t done mine yet. And Gaga forbid I hold us up from our year-long journey into Rachel-Solo-Land.”
“No shit.” Out the window, Shelby had pulled out of the driveway, and Puck’s mom seemed to have finished her goodbyes to his dad and Carole. She met Puck’s gaze through the window, and he nodded, holding out his fist. “Later.”
Kurt bumped it. “See you tomorrow.”
He stayed at the window while Puck went to his mom’s car, passing his dad and Carole on the way and looking startled when Kurt’s dad gave him a clap on the back as he went by. Kurt smiled.
Once the Puckermans were alone, Puck kicked at the ground and spoke barely audibly through the glass, “Look, I know I didn’t tell you, all right, but I swear to God--”
She pulled him into a hug.
He couldn’t quite see Puck’s face, but he stood still, his arms twitching but not moving right away. Then his mom said something--Kurt strained, but couldn’t hear a word--and whatever it was, it lifted Puck’s arms the rest of the way to hug her back, firm and tight. The seconds passed, and they stayed right there.
Kurt jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. When he looked up, his dad nodded toward the living room, glancing pointedly out the window and back, and Kurt obediently stepped away from his not-totally-appropriate spying, throwing one more glance at the two of them finally pulling away before the drapes closed.
Once back in the living room, he looked from his dad to Carole, mentally gearing up for an extended explanation-session. “May I request a bathroom break before we get to Kurt Explains Himself, Part Two? It’s been kind of a long afternoon.”
Both of them smiled, and his dad shook his head. “No Part Two tonight, kiddo. Go ahead. We’re gonna get dinner started.”
Kurt stared. “...Really?”
“Yeah. When you get back tomorrow, just give us a timetable for Sunday so we know when you’ll be back.” His dad’s mouth quirked. “My kid’s going within ten feet of a toddler by choice. I’m not gonna be the one to fight that.”
Kurt broke into a smile and crossed the few steps to his dad for a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”
His dad patted him on the back and shooed him out with a jerk of the head, and Kurt went to get his bag and took it upstairs, made his bathroom run, and went to his room, leaving the door ajar and flopping into his computer chair. The exhaustion wasn’t unlike what he’d been feeling two days ago after the adventure with Finn, and he muttered to no one in particular, “God, I need a spa day.”
He stayed there with his eyes closed for a bit, trying very hard to think about nothing, before giving up and pulling out the phone he hadn’t checked since lunch. He was greeted with a missed call from Finn and a text from Blaine.
>>Blaine: Project Rock-a-bye is go! \o/
He smiled at the text, rolling his eyes because of course Blaine would give it a code name, and sent a quick one back.
>>You: I love you I love you I love you <3 <3 <3 Will call for details and proper freaking out after I’ve been revived by sustenance & bring it up with Puck tomorrow. Also I love you. xoxoxo
He’d just set his phone down and started pondering whether attempting a catnap before dinner would be a wonderful or terrible plan when there came the telltale banging and rustling of Finn getting home. He dropped his head to the back of the chair and closed his eyes again, just listening to the sounds of a full house. Pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, two voices talking fondly to each other instead of just his dad muttering to himself about measurements. Finn greeting them and banging around some more, sounding like he was in a hurry. Asking where Kurt was. His mom reminding him to take off his shoes. Finn saying something back, his dad laughing.
Kurt sighed slowly, his lips turning up. They were nice sounds.
He opened his eyes when footsteps thumped up the stairs, and turned his head just in time for Finn to stick his head through the doorway. “Kurt, hey. Can I come in? I’ve got something.”
Kurt lifted an eyebrow, but nodded for him to come in, then sat up straight when he saw what Finn was carrying. “Oh, wow, I completely forgot about that…”
“So did Puck,” Finn said with a shrug, slinging Puck’s guitar case off his shoulder and setting it on the floor before dropping onto Kurt’s bed. “I figured one of us would be seeing him anyway, so we could hold on to it for him.”
“I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.” Kurt carefully picked up the case and propped it against the wall by his bag to make it impossible for him to forget. “Thanks for bringing it, he’d hate it if he didn’t have it for Beth’s last two days here.”
“Uh...about that,” Finn said. “Did I totally mess up by telling Santana Beth was going to be leaving? Was that supposed to be a secret?”
Kurt sighed, shaking his head as he sat down next to Finn. “Puck was going to tell everyone at glee club today, anyway. It’s just as well. I don’t know who it would make a difference to.” He studied Finn, relieved to see no signs of injury. “How did it go over with Santana? After I, you know, abandoned you with her like a terrible brother who should probably be disowned.”
“It’s no big deal,” Finn said, bumping his shoulder. “She didn’t really say that much after you left. I think she felt bad. Just ‘cause one of the things she said was…well, I mean, that’s private, but it was just--”
“I know.” Kurt dropped his eyes to his lap. “Puck told me. Before, I mean. Before today.”
“Oh. Cool. I mean, not cool, but...you know.” Finn caught Kurt’s eye. “Did you find him? Mr. Schue was asking about you guys. Quinn said she saw you, but she didn’t know where you were going.”
Kurt blinked, that strange little moment having almost gotten lost underneath the rest of the afternoon’s drama. “Yeah. I did see Quinn, at the end of the hall. Which...was weird.” He shook his head. “Anyway. Yes, I found him.”
“Was he okay?”
“...Not great,” Kurt admitted. “But he’s doing better.”
“Are you?”
The question caught Kurt by surprise, and he had to take a second to mentally double back. So much of his worrying had been about Puck, but this was the second time today that he’d been asked if he was okay. “I…” Was he? He thought back to a month ago, a week ago, two days ago, and when he did answer, it was the truth. “I am.” He threw a sideways glance back at Finn, smiling a bit. “Are you?”
Finn exhaled with a conceding, lopsided grin. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
They sat for a little bit, their knees idly knocking into each other while cooking-sounds and their parents’ voices echoed up the stairs. “Well,” Kurt said, rocking back to his feet, “I, personally, suggest that we go set the table to stockpile brownie-points with the parents, eat absolutely everything, break for social life, and then reconvene with warm milk and play Halo until we drop. Thoughts?”
Finn grinned, accepting Kurt’s hand to get up, and goodness Kurt had missed him. “Awesome.”
-
It was late when Kurt and Finn finally parted ways for the night, their parents long since gone to bed, and Kurt yawned as he sat down to turn off his computer, but paused when he got a look at the screen, where he’d left Facebook up. At the top of his newsfeed was a status update :
Puck Zilla
hittin up mcginty tmrw wit my baby girl, life is sweet
Mike Chang, Artie ‘Prof X’ Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Lauren Zizes, and 15 others like this
Comments:
Puck Zilla: btw whos got my guitar???
Tina Cohen-Chang: I think Finn had it in glee today, where were u guys?
Smiling a little incredulously--because over four months of Beth being the most important part of Puck’s week, he had never posted a word to share that with anyone, not until now--Kurt clicked the Like button, then typed a quick response.
Kurt Elizabeth Hummel: Got it. See you tomorrow.
-
It all felt so normal by now, sitting with Puck and Beth and Shelby, Beth climbing all over Puck and occasionally coming to visit Kurt with her favorite book so he could pull her into his lap and read, that he couldn’t quite wrap his brain around the idea that this would be the last time. The last time here, like this, anyway.
“So my mom says it’s cool for me to come help tomorrow, if you’re still good with that. And Kurt said him and Finn are good, too,” Puck was saying, speaking for them both--Kurt was only half paying attention, busy praising Beth for each pair of Legos she put together and helping her pull them apart when she handed them to him with a polite, “Peas?”--and Shelby nodded while Puck added, “And Finn said he’d check with some of the others, too. And I’m gonna ask my girlfriend--no, seriously, she could benchpress Kurt with like one hand.”
“Unfortunately, I can vouch for that,” Kurt said, sitting back and paying attention when Beth lost interest in the Legos and toddled back to Puck, who promptly picked her up and blew a raspberry against her stomach, making her squeal with laughter. “But we’ll only invite more people if that’s okay with you.”
Shelby laughed. “That’s great, guys. I really appreciate it.” She paused mid-breath when her phone rang, and she lifted it up to look. “Oh, that’s my sister. She was going to check in with me about storing some of the furniture I can’t take along. Will you guys be okay with Beth for a minute?...Or ten?” She grimaced a little. “Annie’s a talker.”
“No problem,” Kurt said at the same time as Puck’s, “No worries,” and Shelby gave them a quick thank-you as she got up and answered her phone.
Beth squirmed out of Puck’s lap after Shelby had gone, and for a little bit, they just watched her.
“She said she’ll Skype me with Beth once or twice a week,” Puck said after a minute, tugging at a few blades of grass. “Can’t do it for a long time or anything, but. Throw in the visit every month, and I guess as far as visiting rights go, it’s dece.” The blades came up by their roots, and he tossed them aside. “‘Least I’ll still get to sing to her. At least whenever my laptop decides to not be shit.”
Off to the side, Beth bent to investigate a patch of clover, and Puck watched her like she was performing miracles.
Kurt cleared his throat. Project Rock-a-bye is go.
“Did...I tell you the Warblers are making a CD this year?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well,” Kurt said, lowering his eyes casually to the grass at his feet and wondering why on earth he was feeling timid about this now, “they’re using this recording studio a few miles north of Westerville. They have it on a discount, since Trent called in a favor from his cousin after they sang at his...engagement party, and you don’t care about that and I will get to the point,” he said quickly at Puck’s lifted brow. “Just...I’ve been talking with Blaine and some of the other Warblers, and they said that--if you want to--they could give us a few hours of their recording time. So you could record something of your own.” Puck frowned, and Kurt pointedly added, “Like ‘Tribute.’ Or ‘1234,’ or ‘The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.’” Quieter, “Or ‘Beth.’”
Puck’s eyes widened, and he went very still.
“...If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Kurt added in a stumble of words when some seconds passed with nothing but that. “It’s just an idea, because that way you could send the CD to Chicago and she’ll still be able to hear you, but I completely understand if that’s not how you want to do it, just, if it’s something you’d maybe want to try--”
“Dude, shut up.”
Soft as it was, Kurt’s mouth still snapped shut.
Puck was looking at him with not quite a frown and not quite something else. “How the hell do you keep doing that?”
“...Meddling? It’s a gift.”
“Nah, dude, I mean, you just...you keep doing this shit, like...no one even tells you to do it, you just…fuck.”
Kurt didn’t even see the hug coming, and it cut off his drawn breath before it could turn into ‘I’m sorry.’
Puck did not give hugs like Kurt gave hugs, so it was fast and tight and a bit startling, punctuated by two firm pats on the back. Then Puck was back out of his space, coughing, while Kurt blinked his way to recovery.
“So...I assume that’s a yes?”
Puck grinned with a snorted laugh, turning back toward the clover patch. “Hell yeah, dude, it’ll--”
Puck went abruptly silent, the smile dropping from his face.
Thrown, Kurt followed his gaze, but there was nothing there. “What is it?”
Puck answered with two words that turned Kurt’s blood to ice.
“Where’s Beth?”
Realization cracked over Kurt’s head like a blow, and he looked again at the clover patch, and there was nothing there.
Puck was on his feet, and Kurt followed, silently chanting Don’t panic, as that seemed somewhat more constructive than the alternative. “Beth?” he called, not too loudly, she’d probably just wandered to the other side of the tree. “Sweetie?”
“Beth,” Puck echoed, clear and sharp. He circled around the tree, and when he reappeared on the other side, Kurt could see the whites of his eyes. “Where is she?” he asked, his chest starting to heave. “Where the fuck is she?”
“Okay, breathe. Don’t panic,” Kurt heard himself say, because maybe the mantra would work better on Puck than it was working on him. “It’s not a big park, she couldn’t have gotten far. She probably just saw a duck, or a squirrel, or something--”
“She’s not a fucking dog! Beth?”
“Okay,” Kurt said again, because it was not okay, not at all, “let’s split up. You go look by the pond, I’ll take the outer path. We ask anyone around if they’ve seen her, and--”
“There are little kids with brown hair all over the place, how the hell--”
“Royal purple dress with gold buttons, gray striped leggings, pink cardigan, purple and white velcro shoes. Use the colors and patterns, people remember those.” Puck nodded, his throat bobbing in a swallow. “Hold on to your phone, we text as soon as one of us finds her. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Puck threw over his shoulder, already headed toward the pond, and Kurt turned on his heel to take the path, sweeping his gaze across the park grounds and praying he wouldn’t run into Shelby.
Because it was not a big park, and they should have seen Beth by now.
It became a script, more or less, as he flagged each passerby down. Excuse me, have you seen a little girl, about sixteen months old? She’d have dark, curly hair, and a purple dress with a pink sweater. No? If you do see her, would you please get her to me or him, down by the pond, with the mohawk? That’s her dad. Okay, thank you.
No one had seen her. How could no one have seen her, unless, God, unless--
Just as he was passing the women’s restroom door, he stopped dead.
He knew that cry.
His head whipped toward the restroom door, and he stared at it. Beth was in there, on the other side. That was her cry.
For a second, he nearly stumbled under an absurd rush of hope. Because they still hadn’t seen Shelby, and maybe she had just picked up Beth while Puck was near-tackling him, not wanting to interrupt their moment, and Beth was always fussy for diaper changes and that was why she was crying. And he and Puck were panicking over nothing, and Beth was fine, and it was all completely okay.
On the other side of the door, Beth wailed, and someone shushed her.
Someone, not Shelby.
Kurt’s stomach twisted while the hope winked out. Someone had taken Beth. Someone had taken Beth, and that someone was on the other side of this door, and all he had on him was a plastic first-aid kit and a cell phone he could throw at someone’s head if he really needed to, and--oh, right, he had a cell phone.
He had choices right now. He could be brave and stupid, or he could be safe and horrible.
Found her, ladies room, he punched silently into his phone, and sent it off to Puck. Then he punched in 911 and took a deep breath, steeling himself.
Thumb poised over the Call button, he held his breath and pushed open the door.
~*~
A/N: ...Seriously though. A hiatus like that one? Never again.
Title: Sweet Child O’ Mine (12b/13?)
Author: likethedirection
Friendship/Pairings: Kurt+Puck, canon pairings as of 2x22
Spoilers: To be safe, we’ll say everything through Season 2?
Rating: PG-13+
Summary: Puck comes to Kurt for help, and Kurt figures it can’t hurt to do a friend a favor. Unfortunately, everything is more complicated when there’s a baby involved.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6a | 6b | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10a | 10b | 11a | 11b | 12a
~*~
Kurt didn't take the direct route home, instead winding around a bit and exchanging less-than-mature threats of virtual-reality doom with Puck, carefully not thinking about how he was currently playing hookie from glee club. Puck's eyes were still holding on to a tiny, haunted glimmer from before, but he was smirking, looking more relaxed with every jab he took at Kurt's video game prowess, so on the whole Kurt was feeling pretty good about the state of things. Life wasn't wonderful, exactly, but it was okay. They were okay.
At least, until they turned onto Kurt's street and slowed down at the sight of two cars in the driveway that did not belong to anyone who lived there, and Puck paled and said, "Oh, shit."
Kurt stared, because he recognized both of those cars, and his sentiment was the same.
"Shit," Puck hissed again, "what the hell, that's my--"
"Your mom's Volvo," Kurt finished for him, vaguely remembering the car from the weeks it spent in the middle of his dad's workshop and the tang of irony as he'd worked on it.
"So what's that other one?" Puck asked, and Kurt swallowed hard, because that was the one he was worried about.
"That's Shelby's car."
He looked to Puck, but Puck didn't look back right away, his gaze locked on the car seat visible through the back window. When he did tear his eyes away from it, they just stared at each other for a second, eyes a little wide.
"Dude, did you tell your dad what we were doing all summer?"
"No! Of course not." Kurt looked back to the driveway, mind racing with possibilities that took a half-second each to crumble. "I never told him anything. You didn't tell your mom--"
"You kidding?"
"Just checking."
They fell silent, sort of stuck, looking between the driveway and each other. Almost to himself, Puck murmured, "What the hell are they doing here?" Louder, with the defensive bite slipping into his voice, "Were they just gonna straight-up ambush us?"
"We're supposed to be at glee club," Kurt reminded him, coming to himself enough to park properly on the side of the street. "And there was no way for them to know you'd be coming back with me. Until a half hour ago, we didn't know that."
"Then what the hell’s going on?!"
"Hey." Kurt held up a placating hand. "Calm down."
He straightened the wheel and shifted into Park, then turned off the engine and did nothing else. "It's not like we've done anything wrong--that includes you," Kurt added, flashing on a punching bag and meeting Puck's eyes for emphasis. "We saw Shelby two days ago and everything was fine. Maybe--"
His phone buzzed in his bag. A glance at the screen, and Kurt pursed his lips. “It’s my dad.”
It kept buzzing while they frowned at each other, until Kurt huffed a deep breath and answered. “Hi, Dad!”
It was about an octave higher than his usual, and he winced immediately while Puck groaned a, “Dude,” from off to the side.
“Hey, kiddo,” his dad’s voice replied. “Answer me something. You two ever plan on coming inside, or should I bring out a couple sleeping bags?”
Busted. “…Ah,” was all Kurt could quite get out, glancing toward the front window and seeing, sure enough, a vaguely Dad-like silhouette through the curtains. He pointed it out to Puck with a tilt of his head and earned another hissed curse. Kurt cleared his throat. “No. Um. No sleeping bags necessary. We’ll…be right in. Is there...something we should be aware of?”
“You’re not going to jail, kid. Door’s unlocked. And tell Puckerman to watch the language.”
“Right. Will do.”
The second Kurt ended the call, an elbow knocked hard into his arm, accompanied by a full-voiced, “Dude!”
“Stop saying ‘dude!’ That is not a word!” Kurt snapped back, rubbing his arm.
“What the hell’d you do that for? Now we’ve gotta go in!”
“We’d be going in anyway, Noah, he knows we’re out here.”
“Maybe I don’t want to go in!”
“Fine! Then I’ll call him back and tell him I’m taking you home firs--”
“No way in hell, dude, I’m going the fuck in!”
“Then why are you yelling at me?”
“I don’t know!”
“Well, stop it!”
“Fine!”
The silence was as sudden as the shouting, and they glared at each other for a second, panting a little.
A moment and a few more breaths, and Kurt lowered his voice. “Feel better?”
Puck’s glare slowly gave way to a perplexed frown. “Kinda.”
“Good. Me too.” Kurt finally pulled the keys out of the ignition. “My dad says to stop swearing.”
“He seriously heard me?” Puck popped the handle on the door but didn’t open it quite yet. “No wonder you’re a freaking ninja. Shit.”
A faint grin crossed Kurt’s face as he opened his door. “You should have seen my mom.”
“Mad skills, huh?”
“Oh, yes.” Kurt shouldered his bag and shut the door behind him. “I don’t think we’re in trouble.”
“Keep dreaming,” Puck grumbled next to him. “When they call in reinforcements, you’re always in trouble.”
Kurt led the way to his front door, letting Puck drag his feet behind and vaguely wondering if walking up to a doorway with Puck would ever be a normal, non-stress-inducing thing. At the moment, the chances weren’t looking awesome.
His dad met them inside, regarding them from under the brim of his cap. “Aren’t you boys supposed to be at glee club?”
Kurt took off his shoes in the doorway and hung up his bag, avoiding eye contact, he was skipping a school activity ugh. “We...opted out. Shoes, Noah,” he added over his shoulder to Puck, who was definitely trying not to look like he was hiding behind him, and that was just hilarious enough after this day/week/public school career that Kurt almost gave up on everything and burst into inappropriate hysterics, but he was beaten to the impulse when a high, now-familiar laugh bubbled out of the living room.
He immediately turned toward the sound, Puck mirroring him in the corner of his eye. Glancing at Puck, then at his dad, he asked at a lower volume, “What’s going on?”
“You’re busted, that’s what.” He tilted his head toward the living room. “Come on.”
Really, nothing about this setup should have been surprising considering the amount of warning they’d gotten, but walking in, it still made Kurt want to double-take and demand to know who had Photoshopped his living room. Shelby in that chair, glancing up at them with a quirked eyebrow, instead of clicking through her laptop on her leather couch: wrong. Carole chatting amicably with had-to-be-Mrs.-Puckerman (and he realized, huh, he’d never actually gotten a good look at Puck’s mom before) on the couch like they were some sort of couch-chatting-buddies: wrong. Beth, bouncing happily in Mrs. Puckerman’s lap...in her grandmother’s lap.
...Not wrong. Not really.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” his dad said as he led them in, taking a seat in his own chair, and wow, a lot of adults looking at them at the same time.
Carole smiled and leaned down by Beth, getting her attention with a little gasp. “Who’s that, Beth?” she asked, and Beth looked up, following Carole’s pointed finger in their direction. “Look who’s here!”
Beth had let out a squeak and started wriggling her way out of Mrs. Puckerman’s lap before Carole had gotten the last word out, and as soon as Mrs. Puckerman had helped her down, Beth ran across the carpet in her toddling way, nearly faceplanting but just managing to bump gently into Puck’s legs instead, bracing herself on them and looking up at him with a triumphant, “Da!”
Oh, thank you, Kurt whispered silently to the universe while Puck’s mouth twitched and he bent to pick her up, easy and automatic, with a barely-audible murmur of, “Hey, baby-girl.” Thank you for giving him this now, here, today.
The moment only lasted a second before Puck seemed to remember there were other people in the room and glanced up at his mom, pressing his lips together and seeming to de-age by ten years, looking a little like he was considering clutching Beth to him and running out the door. That wouldn’t be good. So Kurt cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. He glanced from Mrs. Puckerman to Carole to Shelby, suddenly a little uncertain himself. “So...how much trouble are we in?”
Reassuringly and disturbingly, all three women just smiled.
A few pointed looks later, he was sitting on a couch full of Puckermans while Carole half-perched on the arm of his dad’s chair, and Shelby was leaning forward.
“I had an idea for how to thank you guys for being such a big help this summer,” she said, “but I didn’t want to bring it up until I had your parents’ OK. You both just gave me your cell numbers, so I checked the phone book.” She hit them both with the quizzical eyebrow again. “Here I was thinking they already knew. I’ve been out of teaching too long, I’m forgetting how teenagers work.”
“Not all of them. Just mine,” Mrs. Puckerman said, but her voice was soft, her eyes on Beth until she lifted them to Puck. “Noah, why would you lie about this?”
Puck carefully studied the blocks Beth was clacking together in his lap. “I wasn’t lying. I just didn’t talk about it.”
Kurt dared a glance up to the Dad-and-Carole Corner, and fought a wince at the pair of expectant gazes he was hit with. Oh, look at that, Beth’s blocks really were interesting. “I was sworn to secrecy.”
“By me.” Puck finally lifted his head, panning the room. “It was my idea, and I told him not to tell. He didn’t do anything bad.”
“Neither did he,” Kurt was saying before planning to, his gaze landing on Mrs. Puckerman. “...Hi. Kurt Hummel. We haven’t actually met. But Noah didn’t do anything wrong. He asked me if I would drive him, so he could see Beth without breaking your rules about the car. And we were supervised--”
“Totally, Ms. C was there the whole time. And I paid Kurt back for gas and stuff,” Puck assured his mom.
“And I didn’t accept a penny of it,” Kurt assured his dad.
“And it wasn’t even gonna be a thing, I was just gonna see her and make sure she was okay--”
“--but oh my God if you could have seen that first day, it was like real, actual magic, and there was absolutely no way we could just not go back--”
“--so we figured we go back for the summer, like, just until school starts--”
“--and that was all me, and it was a terrible and presumptuous and inappropriate assertion because Noah absolutely wants to be a part of Beth’s life and he really, really should be--”
“--I mean, only if you want, I mean, if that’s okay, but point is ninja-kid’s the one who made it happen but it was totally my idea--”
“--and that’s why we were hanging out all summer and, Dad, were not even remotely dating--”
“--and...what?”
“Nothing.”
Beth waved her blocks in the air and helpfully contributed, “Yeah!”
A beat of silent stares, and all four adults burst out laughing. (Well. Kurt’s dad snorted and stretched his finger and thumb over his mouth, which was basically the same thing.) Shelby held a hand in their direction, as though presenting them on stage. “All summer,” she said with that wide grin that looked an awful lot like Rachel’s, and that just set them off harder, and Kurt frowned at Puck, who frowned back, then they both frowned at Beth, who was giggling along looking thrilled at her newfound superpower, and, what?
Carole finally started to recover, wiping at her eyes and managing through a dwindling chuckle, “Oh, you poor things.” She swatted his dad in the arm. “Burt, you asked him if they were dating?”
“How was I supposed to know they were top-secret babysitters?” He couldn’t say it with a straight face, and stretched his fingers over his mouth again for a second before moving his hand to point between the two of them. “You make a good case for each other and all, but what I can’t figure out is why you think you’ve got to. Why the big secret?”
He was mostly looking at Kurt, just like Mrs. Puckerman was mostly looking at Puck, and Kurt bit his lip, exchanging another glance with Puck before replying, “Because...as evidenced…” he swept a look around the room, “parents talk to each other. And, generally, to their children.”
The adults stared at him, waiting, and he sighed. “Help?”
Puck took over, surprisingly coherently for someone with a one-year-old trying to climb him like a tree. “We didn’t--oof--didn’t think you’d be pi--mad. Well. I dunno,” he amended, glancing at his mother. “But we knew who would be.”
Shelby seemed to get there first, inhaling quietly when she made the connection and then looking...something. Something like a home video over tea while it rained outside.
Kurt lowered his eyes. “Suffice to say that we’ve been put in the position of defending our actions kind of a lot lately.”
“To freaking everyone--ow, chill out, monkey.”
“And we’ve been trying to fix that. With...varying levels of success.” Beth started to whine when Puck drew the line at climbing on his head, and Kurt laid a hand on her back with a murmured, “Chut, chérie. Tout va bien,” as the French always seemed to at least distract her. He was unduly proud when she paused her climbing to tilt her head at him. “Hence, you know. Finn.”
“And Quinn.”
“And Rachel.”
“And...yeah.”
Kurt could only hold Carole’s knowingly sympathetic gaze for a second before it was more appealing to hold a staring contest with his socks, and Shelby sighed. “No wonder you two looked so exhausted on Wednesday. You’ve been doing more to earn this reward than anybody knew, huh?”
Reward. She’d said that earlier. Kurt pried his eyes up from the floor, and he and Puck exchanged what felt like their eighteenth glance of the last half hour, this one just this side of clueless. “You don’t need to give us anything, Shelby. I mean, at least not me. I’m just the driver.”
“Dude, whatever.”
Shelby gave Kurt a look. “I’m with Noah on this one. Which is why this is for both of you.” She leaned forward over her crossed legs, folding her hands, and focused on Puck. “First, though, Noah, I owe you an apology. I was underestimating you in a lot of ways, and that wasn’t fair. You’re not me, and the mistakes you make won’t be the same ones I made. Kurt drove out to my house in a downpour to make me see that.” She turned a warm smile on Kurt, then on his dad and Carole. “He did a good job.”
He snuck a peek at them, and his dad looked proud but not surprised, and Carole winked at him, and right, sock-staring-contest rematch, ready set go.
“I’ve already accepted the job in Chicago, and I’ve signed the lease for an apartment. The moving van is rented for Sunday, it’s all signed and sealed. Noah and I have talked about having a Skype-schedule with Beth, but I know it’s not the same as being there.”
Puck’s arms tightened around Beth--and Kurt swallowed, because less than an hour ago he’d been holding Puck in the locker room while he sobbed, I don’t want her to go still echoing between his ears--and Shelby’s softening tone told him she saw.
“So I want to help get you there.”
...Was not what he’d expected Shelby to say. Next to him, Puck tentatively lifted his head.
“When I accepted the job,” she went on, “my plan was to take Beth to the city and not look back, and up until a year ago, that’s how I’d always lived my life. When I made a change, I’d try to forget what was behind me--good and bad. But nothing really goes away, and that’s not what I want to teach Beth. Not about life, and not about people.” She lowered her eyes to Beth, cuddled in Puck’s lap and humming a nameless tune, absorbed in her blocks again while Puck idly stroked her hair. “This is what I want to teach her,” she said, nodding at the touch. “That there are people here who love her, and two in particular who have gone so far above and beyond to show her that. Two people who are kind, and brave, and worthy of her. And that’s not the kind of person that you just leave behind.”
“That,” Beth said, distracting Kurt from figuring out what to even do with a compliment like that by looking up at him and holding out one of her blocks. He absently took it, murmuring a thank-you. “Um, so...what does that mean?”
“Whoa, hold up, are we getting adopted, because that would be messed-up as h--”
“Really, Puck?”
“What?”
Shelby laughed. “No, Noah. Very big no. What I do want to do, with your parents’ permission, is help you guys be able to still see Beth on a regular basis. I’m working with a finite budget for this, but what I’d like to do is cover expenses for you guys to come and see us in Chicago.” She looked at Kurt. “Both of you.”
Puck’s hand stopped moving, coming to rest on Beth’s back. Barely audible, he said, “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Shelby confirmed. “It won’t be every week, and you’ll have to talk with your parents about what means of travel you’d all be most comfortable with, but I’m pretty confident that I can swing a weekend trip for you guys once a month, whether it’s gas money, Megabus tickets, what have you. I can cover a hotel stay, or you can stay with us. Again, up to your parents.” She smiled at Beth, who was standing up on Puck’s lap to study him again, gingerly mapping his face with her hands. “At the very least, we can try it for a few months and figure out what works best.”
Kurt glanced at his dad, a little incredulous. He got a nod in return, and surprised himself with the thrill of excitement that went through him at the thought of it, breaking his face into a smile. “That’s amazing! I mean, that we can come, and that’s really generous, and you don’t even have to pay for it if it’s any trouble, we can figure it out, I mean--”
“Don’t bother, Kurt, I’ve already haggled with one Hummel today. I’m taking care of it and you can’t stop me,” Shelby said, nodding in the direction of his dad, who held up his hands in surrender. “Frankly, I wish I could do more. But if you guys are both okay with it, I really want to help make this happen, and I don’t want there to be any question that I’m on board with you guys. I am. And I’d love for Beth to be able to see her dad, and her favorite uncle, as much as she can.”
Puck lifted up his eyes from Beth’s face, her hands still brushing against his cheeks, and for the first time all day, he smiled.
-
One of the biggest things Kurt was learning from the last few months came in three parts.
First: As far back as he could remember, whenever the people in his life were given the choice to take his side or someone else’s, he had always assumed they wouldn’t choose him.
Second: As far back as he could remember, Puck had seemed to assume the same thing.
Third: They were wrong.
-
Shelby didn’t stay too much longer after they’d accepted her offer, but Kurt had his suspicions that she did stay longer than she strictly needed to. Long enough for Beth to make her way around the room, absorbing attention like the tiny diva Kurt was convinced she’d grow up to be. Long enough for his dad and Puck’s mom to thoroughly embarrass them with toddler-stories (Kurt held that while his Tablecloth Mermaid Princess Phase at age two was not his proudest moment, Toddler Puck still won the Embarrassing Fail Award for wriggling away mid-diaper-change, attempting a dramatic escape via the doggy door, and ending up stuck and pantsless), and for Puck and himself to tell the extremely abridged and censored version of what was going on with some of their friends, which had Puck’s mom sitting up straight, her eyebrows shooting up (“Jacob Ben Israel did what? Oh, I know that boy’s mother. She will be hearing from me.”).
And it was just that. They listened. They weren’t upset, or disappointed, or...he really didn’t know what he’d thought they would be, but whatever it was, they weren’t it. They were just their parents. On their side.
Beth was in Mrs. Puckerman’s arms again when she finally ran out of steam, blinking slowly and curling up with a foot in Puck’s lap, his thumb idly stroking her calf. Shelby was kind enough not to take Beth from them right away, announcing that she’d better be going and taking her time getting her jacket. “So we’re on for tomorrow, right, guys?” she said, brushing imaginary lint from it, slowly and quietly shutting the coat closet door. “McGinty Park, one last Lima hurrah for Beth and her boys?”
Puck nodded, his eyes on the steadying rise and fall of Beth’s back, and Kurt answered for them both, “We’ll be there. And thank you again. Really.”
“You earned it,” she said. “Thank you.”
“We could help.”
Kurt followed Puck’s voice, quiet to let Beth sleep, and Puck only looked up after a second. “Sunday. You’re moving. We could help. Like, lift heavy stuff. Or watch Beth. Or…” he glanced between his mom and Kurt’s dad, then dropped his eyes back to Beth, “...something.”
One more day. They could give Puck one more day. “We are friends with half the school football team,” Kurt offered, thinking fast. “We could put the word out, save you some moving expenses?”
“That’s between you and your parents,” Shelby said slowly, taking the safe path. “But you guys know you’re always welcome, whether you’re lifting heavy things or not. I could always use another set of eyes on Beth.”
“We’ll talk,” Kurt’s dad said, and Puck’s mom nodded, and Carole patted his dad on the back, and Kurt exchanged sly-to-smug looks with Puck. In the bag.
Finally Shelby seemed to run out of ways to stall, and Beth barely stirred as she picked her up. “It was lovely meeting you all. Thanks for having us,” she said, carefully getting Beth’s arms through her jacket sleeves. “You’re raising some really incredible young men, and I hope I’m not the first one to say so. Not every seventeen-year-old would do what these two have done, for each other or for Beth.” She smiled. “I might be calling you for pointers.”
She waved to Puck and Kurt as his dad and Carole got up to see her out, and Mrs. Puckerman rose with them, looking at her watch. “Oh, Noah, it’s almost time to pick up your sister from soccer. I’m going to go let Kurt’s parents know. You just get your things together.”
Puck made an affirmative noise, and she followed Kurt’s dad and Carole outside, and then it was just the two of them left in the living room. Kurt let out his breath, feeling like he’d been holding it, and Puck seemed to sink a little into the back of the couch. “Well,” Kurt said, “that happened.”
“Yeah.” Puck glanced sideways at him. “You good?”
“Hm?”
Puck gestured toward the kitchen with his head. “Your dad and Hudson’s mom. She called them your parents.”
Kurt blinked, replaying the comment in his head. “I...didn’t even notice.”
He took exactly five seconds to flick through the bottomless pit of things he could feel about that, then took another deep breath. Puck was still watching him, and Kurt pressed his lips together and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Puck eyed him a bit longer before nodding, then hefting himself to his feet, stretching and heading to the kitchen while Kurt followed suit.
“Do you still want to stay tonight?” Kurt asked while Puck slung his jacket back on. “The invitation is still open.”
“Nah,” Puck said, throwing a glance over his shoulder toward the driveway, where his mom was exchanging some parting words with Kurt’s dad and Carole. “She’s finally letting me near the car, better take it while I got it. If I don’t go home, she’ll just call me ten times to ask about shit. Easier if I deal with it in one shot.”
“Yeah.” Kurt followed his gaze and sighed. “I have a feeling I’ve got some explaining to do, too.”
“Noon tomorrow, though, right?”
“I’ll be there at a quarter to.”
“Sweet.”
Puck hovered there for a second, his jaw working like he was chewing on words, and he inhaled, paused, then seemed to give up and let out his breath. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Kurt studied him a second longer, the looseness creeping back into his stance but the weariness of an emotional day written all over him. Quieter, even though no one was in the house to hear, he asked, “You sure you’re okay?”
Puck huffed a breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets and angling to the side. “Puckmeister’s always okay.”
Kurt looked flatly back. “His Illustrious Highness believes you.”
Puck blinked hard and squinted at him, and Kurt lifted an eyebrow. “You want to speak in third-person with questionable nicknames, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Exhaustion was probably the main reason Puck stared at him and then exhaled the closest thing to a real laugh he’d managed all week, but Kurt grinned back with not a little bit of pride anyway. “You laugh. I see a world of missed opportunity.”
Glancing out the window again, where it looked like Kurt’s dad and Carole were heading inside, Puck shook his head and pushed past him. “Dork.”
“Heathen.”
“Your hair’s still screwed up.”
“Stylishly tousled.”
“You wish.” Puck paused in the doorway, glancing at the clock. “Glee club’s over. That song--”
Kurt groaned. “Oh God, screw it. I’m over it. Besides, we skipped today, which means everyone else probably performed their assignments today, which means it will become painfully obvious on Monday that I’m the only one who hasn’t done mine yet. And Gaga forbid I hold us up from our year-long journey into Rachel-Solo-Land.”
“No shit.” Out the window, Shelby had pulled out of the driveway, and Puck’s mom seemed to have finished her goodbyes to his dad and Carole. She met Puck’s gaze through the window, and he nodded, holding out his fist. “Later.”
Kurt bumped it. “See you tomorrow.”
He stayed at the window while Puck went to his mom’s car, passing his dad and Carole on the way and looking startled when Kurt’s dad gave him a clap on the back as he went by. Kurt smiled.
Once the Puckermans were alone, Puck kicked at the ground and spoke barely audibly through the glass, “Look, I know I didn’t tell you, all right, but I swear to God--”
She pulled him into a hug.
He couldn’t quite see Puck’s face, but he stood still, his arms twitching but not moving right away. Then his mom said something--Kurt strained, but couldn’t hear a word--and whatever it was, it lifted Puck’s arms the rest of the way to hug her back, firm and tight. The seconds passed, and they stayed right there.
Kurt jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. When he looked up, his dad nodded toward the living room, glancing pointedly out the window and back, and Kurt obediently stepped away from his not-totally-appropriate spying, throwing one more glance at the two of them finally pulling away before the drapes closed.
Once back in the living room, he looked from his dad to Carole, mentally gearing up for an extended explanation-session. “May I request a bathroom break before we get to Kurt Explains Himself, Part Two? It’s been kind of a long afternoon.”
Both of them smiled, and his dad shook his head. “No Part Two tonight, kiddo. Go ahead. We’re gonna get dinner started.”
Kurt stared. “...Really?”
“Yeah. When you get back tomorrow, just give us a timetable for Sunday so we know when you’ll be back.” His dad’s mouth quirked. “My kid’s going within ten feet of a toddler by choice. I’m not gonna be the one to fight that.”
Kurt broke into a smile and crossed the few steps to his dad for a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”
His dad patted him on the back and shooed him out with a jerk of the head, and Kurt went to get his bag and took it upstairs, made his bathroom run, and went to his room, leaving the door ajar and flopping into his computer chair. The exhaustion wasn’t unlike what he’d been feeling two days ago after the adventure with Finn, and he muttered to no one in particular, “God, I need a spa day.”
He stayed there with his eyes closed for a bit, trying very hard to think about nothing, before giving up and pulling out the phone he hadn’t checked since lunch. He was greeted with a missed call from Finn and a text from Blaine.
>>Blaine: Project Rock-a-bye is go! \o/
He smiled at the text, rolling his eyes because of course Blaine would give it a code name, and sent a quick one back.
>>You: I love you I love you I love you <3 <3 <3 Will call for details and proper freaking out after I’ve been revived by sustenance & bring it up with Puck tomorrow. Also I love you. xoxoxo
He’d just set his phone down and started pondering whether attempting a catnap before dinner would be a wonderful or terrible plan when there came the telltale banging and rustling of Finn getting home. He dropped his head to the back of the chair and closed his eyes again, just listening to the sounds of a full house. Pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, two voices talking fondly to each other instead of just his dad muttering to himself about measurements. Finn greeting them and banging around some more, sounding like he was in a hurry. Asking where Kurt was. His mom reminding him to take off his shoes. Finn saying something back, his dad laughing.
Kurt sighed slowly, his lips turning up. They were nice sounds.
He opened his eyes when footsteps thumped up the stairs, and turned his head just in time for Finn to stick his head through the doorway. “Kurt, hey. Can I come in? I’ve got something.”
Kurt lifted an eyebrow, but nodded for him to come in, then sat up straight when he saw what Finn was carrying. “Oh, wow, I completely forgot about that…”
“So did Puck,” Finn said with a shrug, slinging Puck’s guitar case off his shoulder and setting it on the floor before dropping onto Kurt’s bed. “I figured one of us would be seeing him anyway, so we could hold on to it for him.”
“I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.” Kurt carefully picked up the case and propped it against the wall by his bag to make it impossible for him to forget. “Thanks for bringing it, he’d hate it if he didn’t have it for Beth’s last two days here.”
“Uh...about that,” Finn said. “Did I totally mess up by telling Santana Beth was going to be leaving? Was that supposed to be a secret?”
Kurt sighed, shaking his head as he sat down next to Finn. “Puck was going to tell everyone at glee club today, anyway. It’s just as well. I don’t know who it would make a difference to.” He studied Finn, relieved to see no signs of injury. “How did it go over with Santana? After I, you know, abandoned you with her like a terrible brother who should probably be disowned.”
“It’s no big deal,” Finn said, bumping his shoulder. “She didn’t really say that much after you left. I think she felt bad. Just ‘cause one of the things she said was…well, I mean, that’s private, but it was just--”
“I know.” Kurt dropped his eyes to his lap. “Puck told me. Before, I mean. Before today.”
“Oh. Cool. I mean, not cool, but...you know.” Finn caught Kurt’s eye. “Did you find him? Mr. Schue was asking about you guys. Quinn said she saw you, but she didn’t know where you were going.”
Kurt blinked, that strange little moment having almost gotten lost underneath the rest of the afternoon’s drama. “Yeah. I did see Quinn, at the end of the hall. Which...was weird.” He shook his head. “Anyway. Yes, I found him.”
“Was he okay?”
“...Not great,” Kurt admitted. “But he’s doing better.”
“Are you?”
The question caught Kurt by surprise, and he had to take a second to mentally double back. So much of his worrying had been about Puck, but this was the second time today that he’d been asked if he was okay. “I…” Was he? He thought back to a month ago, a week ago, two days ago, and when he did answer, it was the truth. “I am.” He threw a sideways glance back at Finn, smiling a bit. “Are you?”
Finn exhaled with a conceding, lopsided grin. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
They sat for a little bit, their knees idly knocking into each other while cooking-sounds and their parents’ voices echoed up the stairs. “Well,” Kurt said, rocking back to his feet, “I, personally, suggest that we go set the table to stockpile brownie-points with the parents, eat absolutely everything, break for social life, and then reconvene with warm milk and play Halo until we drop. Thoughts?”
Finn grinned, accepting Kurt’s hand to get up, and goodness Kurt had missed him. “Awesome.”
-
It was late when Kurt and Finn finally parted ways for the night, their parents long since gone to bed, and Kurt yawned as he sat down to turn off his computer, but paused when he got a look at the screen, where he’d left Facebook up. At the top of his newsfeed was a status update :
Puck Zilla
hittin up mcginty tmrw wit my baby girl, life is sweet
Mike Chang, Artie ‘Prof X’ Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Lauren Zizes, and 15 others like this
Comments:
Puck Zilla: btw whos got my guitar???
Tina Cohen-Chang: I think Finn had it in glee today, where were u guys?
Smiling a little incredulously--because over four months of Beth being the most important part of Puck’s week, he had never posted a word to share that with anyone, not until now--Kurt clicked the Like button, then typed a quick response.
Kurt Elizabeth Hummel: Got it. See you tomorrow.
-
It all felt so normal by now, sitting with Puck and Beth and Shelby, Beth climbing all over Puck and occasionally coming to visit Kurt with her favorite book so he could pull her into his lap and read, that he couldn’t quite wrap his brain around the idea that this would be the last time. The last time here, like this, anyway.
“So my mom says it’s cool for me to come help tomorrow, if you’re still good with that. And Kurt said him and Finn are good, too,” Puck was saying, speaking for them both--Kurt was only half paying attention, busy praising Beth for each pair of Legos she put together and helping her pull them apart when she handed them to him with a polite, “Peas?”--and Shelby nodded while Puck added, “And Finn said he’d check with some of the others, too. And I’m gonna ask my girlfriend--no, seriously, she could benchpress Kurt with like one hand.”
“Unfortunately, I can vouch for that,” Kurt said, sitting back and paying attention when Beth lost interest in the Legos and toddled back to Puck, who promptly picked her up and blew a raspberry against her stomach, making her squeal with laughter. “But we’ll only invite more people if that’s okay with you.”
Shelby laughed. “That’s great, guys. I really appreciate it.” She paused mid-breath when her phone rang, and she lifted it up to look. “Oh, that’s my sister. She was going to check in with me about storing some of the furniture I can’t take along. Will you guys be okay with Beth for a minute?...Or ten?” She grimaced a little. “Annie’s a talker.”
“No problem,” Kurt said at the same time as Puck’s, “No worries,” and Shelby gave them a quick thank-you as she got up and answered her phone.
Beth squirmed out of Puck’s lap after Shelby had gone, and for a little bit, they just watched her.
“She said she’ll Skype me with Beth once or twice a week,” Puck said after a minute, tugging at a few blades of grass. “Can’t do it for a long time or anything, but. Throw in the visit every month, and I guess as far as visiting rights go, it’s dece.” The blades came up by their roots, and he tossed them aside. “‘Least I’ll still get to sing to her. At least whenever my laptop decides to not be shit.”
Off to the side, Beth bent to investigate a patch of clover, and Puck watched her like she was performing miracles.
Kurt cleared his throat. Project Rock-a-bye is go.
“Did...I tell you the Warblers are making a CD this year?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well,” Kurt said, lowering his eyes casually to the grass at his feet and wondering why on earth he was feeling timid about this now, “they’re using this recording studio a few miles north of Westerville. They have it on a discount, since Trent called in a favor from his cousin after they sang at his...engagement party, and you don’t care about that and I will get to the point,” he said quickly at Puck’s lifted brow. “Just...I’ve been talking with Blaine and some of the other Warblers, and they said that--if you want to--they could give us a few hours of their recording time. So you could record something of your own.” Puck frowned, and Kurt pointedly added, “Like ‘Tribute.’ Or ‘1234,’ or ‘The Itsy-Bitsy Spider.’” Quieter, “Or ‘Beth.’”
Puck’s eyes widened, and he went very still.
“...If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Kurt added in a stumble of words when some seconds passed with nothing but that. “It’s just an idea, because that way you could send the CD to Chicago and she’ll still be able to hear you, but I completely understand if that’s not how you want to do it, just, if it’s something you’d maybe want to try--”
“Dude, shut up.”
Soft as it was, Kurt’s mouth still snapped shut.
Puck was looking at him with not quite a frown and not quite something else. “How the hell do you keep doing that?”
“...Meddling? It’s a gift.”
“Nah, dude, I mean, you just...you keep doing this shit, like...no one even tells you to do it, you just…fuck.”
Kurt didn’t even see the hug coming, and it cut off his drawn breath before it could turn into ‘I’m sorry.’
Puck did not give hugs like Kurt gave hugs, so it was fast and tight and a bit startling, punctuated by two firm pats on the back. Then Puck was back out of his space, coughing, while Kurt blinked his way to recovery.
“So...I assume that’s a yes?”
Puck grinned with a snorted laugh, turning back toward the clover patch. “Hell yeah, dude, it’ll--”
Puck went abruptly silent, the smile dropping from his face.
Thrown, Kurt followed his gaze, but there was nothing there. “What is it?”
Puck answered with two words that turned Kurt’s blood to ice.
“Where’s Beth?”
Realization cracked over Kurt’s head like a blow, and he looked again at the clover patch, and there was nothing there.
Puck was on his feet, and Kurt followed, silently chanting Don’t panic, as that seemed somewhat more constructive than the alternative. “Beth?” he called, not too loudly, she’d probably just wandered to the other side of the tree. “Sweetie?”
“Beth,” Puck echoed, clear and sharp. He circled around the tree, and when he reappeared on the other side, Kurt could see the whites of his eyes. “Where is she?” he asked, his chest starting to heave. “Where the fuck is she?”
“Okay, breathe. Don’t panic,” Kurt heard himself say, because maybe the mantra would work better on Puck than it was working on him. “It’s not a big park, she couldn’t have gotten far. She probably just saw a duck, or a squirrel, or something--”
“She’s not a fucking dog! Beth?”
“Okay,” Kurt said again, because it was not okay, not at all, “let’s split up. You go look by the pond, I’ll take the outer path. We ask anyone around if they’ve seen her, and--”
“There are little kids with brown hair all over the place, how the hell--”
“Royal purple dress with gold buttons, gray striped leggings, pink cardigan, purple and white velcro shoes. Use the colors and patterns, people remember those.” Puck nodded, his throat bobbing in a swallow. “Hold on to your phone, we text as soon as one of us finds her. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Puck threw over his shoulder, already headed toward the pond, and Kurt turned on his heel to take the path, sweeping his gaze across the park grounds and praying he wouldn’t run into Shelby.
Because it was not a big park, and they should have seen Beth by now.
It became a script, more or less, as he flagged each passerby down. Excuse me, have you seen a little girl, about sixteen months old? She’d have dark, curly hair, and a purple dress with a pink sweater. No? If you do see her, would you please get her to me or him, down by the pond, with the mohawk? That’s her dad. Okay, thank you.
No one had seen her. How could no one have seen her, unless, God, unless--
Just as he was passing the women’s restroom door, he stopped dead.
He knew that cry.
His head whipped toward the restroom door, and he stared at it. Beth was in there, on the other side. That was her cry.
For a second, he nearly stumbled under an absurd rush of hope. Because they still hadn’t seen Shelby, and maybe she had just picked up Beth while Puck was near-tackling him, not wanting to interrupt their moment, and Beth was always fussy for diaper changes and that was why she was crying. And he and Puck were panicking over nothing, and Beth was fine, and it was all completely okay.
On the other side of the door, Beth wailed, and someone shushed her.
Someone, not Shelby.
Kurt’s stomach twisted while the hope winked out. Someone had taken Beth. Someone had taken Beth, and that someone was on the other side of this door, and all he had on him was a plastic first-aid kit and a cell phone he could throw at someone’s head if he really needed to, and--oh, right, he had a cell phone.
He had choices right now. He could be brave and stupid, or he could be safe and horrible.
Found her, ladies room, he punched silently into his phone, and sent it off to Puck. Then he punched in 911 and took a deep breath, steeling himself.
Thumb poised over the Call button, he held his breath and pushed open the door.
~*~
A/N: ...Seriously though. A hiatus like that one? Never again.