And So It Seemed To Confess 5/5
Title: And So It Seemed To Confess
Chapter: 5/5
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: 5,100
Summary: AU He isn't worried about Rachel talking about him being in therapy at school. Nope, Puck's worried that Rachel might tell her dad what Puck used to do and Dr. Berry will get him sent back to juvie.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"Hi!" Rachel greets brightly when he finds her at her locker the next day after the last bell. He'd wanted to find her this morning, but it took him hours to fall asleep last night, and once he finally did, the alarm clock wasn't enough to wake him up and he was tardy for first hour.
He's been thinking about what he would do if he found out that the girl he was dating was seeing a shrink. Now, he thinks he'd probably just shrug and ignore it, but a few months ago, before he was in court-ordered counseling himself? He probably would have cut and run, convinced that she was full of crazy that was going to come out sooner or later. He's pretty sure that Rachel is going to have a more open view of therapy in general, since her dad is a doctor and all that, but that's part of the problem, too.
Rachel's dad knows a whole bunch of his deep, dirty secrets.
He's wary of her good mood. "Hey." He doesn't really want to bring up yesterday, but he's pretty sure that putting it off is a bad idea. "How was your lesson?"
"It was good," she answers, pulling open the metal door of her locker and setting her French book inside. "We've been working on songs from West Side Story for a while, and I think I've perfected 'I Have a Love.'"
He blinks at her.
"I also finished my paper for AP English," she goes on, "even though it isn't due until Monday, which I'm feeling quite good about." She finishes slipping books into her backpack and smiles up at him. "I have to go change for ballet club, but I'll text you later?"
"Okay."
She wiggles her fingers in a wave before turning to walk down the hallway, leaving Puck there by her locker trying to figure out what just happened. Did she forget that he was standing at her front door yesterday after an appointment with her dad, the shrink? Or did she just blow him off with a totally sweet smile on her face?
It bugs him all afternoon, and he finds himself checking his phone obsessively, like having that stupid conversation with Rachel in the hallway made him grow a vagina or something. Seriously though, did Rachel Berry blow him off with an excuse about ballet and a wave? Is this her way of ending things and trying to let him down easy?
Rachel always texts when she says she's going to, so he figures that if she doesn't, that's his sign. Not long after dinner though, Puck gets a message that says something about a chorus line and pointy shoes that he cares about not at all. He's just happy that she's talking to him.
your dad is my shrink Puck sends back, ignoring what she said. It's probably the definition of doing it the wrong way, but now he can say that he told her, right?
I already knew, Noah.
"You already knew?"
Yeah, he called her as soon as he got the message.
"Of course I knew," she answers quietly.
"How?"
"That day you ran into me outside of the house. Maybe you didn't remember who I was then, but I certainly hadn't forgotten you." The way she says it, her voice soft and just a little bit guarded, makes him feel like an asshole. "And I've seen your truck parked down the block since your mother gave your keys back," she adds. So much for being covert. Fuck.
"You knew," he repeats, considering what it means. Maybe it just means that she doesn't care that he's in therapy. 'Why didn't you say something?"
"Why didn't you?" she counters softly. He hears her let out a little breath when he doesn't say anything. "I figured that if you were ready to talk about it, you would bring it up. And I know that the fact that your doctor is my father makes it a bit more complicated. I didn't want to make things uncomfortable between us."
"It's one of the terms of my probation," he says. It feels important that she knows that he isn't there by choice. "It doesn't bother you?"
"Of course not. Talking about things is healthy," she says seriously. "I used to speak with a therapist regularly."
"What did you talk about?" Puck asks, his mouth getting ahead of his brain. He wants to take it back immediately; he wouldn't want to tell Rachel everything he talks about, so it sucks of him to ask her. "I'm sorry," he says quickly. "You don't have to tell me."
He can hear the smile in her voice when she says, "It's fine, Noah. I started going to talk about my mother when I was eleven and it really clicked for the first time that I would never have a relationship with her. I've talked about growing up in Lima with gay, bi-racial fathers. I've talked about the things that happened at school."
She says the last part quietly, but the blow still lands and makes him feel like a prick.
"I don't know what your experience has been like," she goes on, "because Daddy certainly doesn't talk about his patients with us, but I think that talking helps."
"Yeah, you talk a lot, Rach," he teases, smiling to himself when she giggles. It's true, but as much as anything, he wants to break some of the tension they've got going right now. This conversation is fucking heavy.
"I thought about you during Mr. Simms' lecture today," she says, changing the subject. He's only half-listening when she starts talking about some French dude, thinking instead about how awesome she is for changing the subject when he was freaking out talking about therapy and hearing how throwing slushies at this girl probably sent her there.
*
"Are you actually dating the creature from Munchkinland?"
Puck doesn't even bother turning away from his lunch to glare at Santana. "Don't be a bitch."
"Seriously, Puck."
He does glare when she reaches over and snags a potato chip from his plate. "She's sweet, okay?" She stares at him blandly. "I like her."
"Is she your girlfriend, Noah?" she asks condescendingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Fuck off."
She rolls her eyes when he takes a huge bite of his sandwich. "Fine. You like her. Whatever." She reaches for his bottle of Coke and starts picking at the label. "Does she give good head?" Santana's watching him expectantly when he looks at her. "She has dick sucking lips, Puck. She looks like she'd be good at it."
He stares at her incredulously. "What is wrong with you?"
She smirks. "So serious, Noah." She stands up, leaning over and putting her lips right next to his ear. "Hundred bucks says she likes it, too," she whispers, turning on her heel and walking away before Puck can even look up at her.
As fucking twisted as she is though, he knows Santana, and this is her way of letting him know that she isn't going to be a bitch about it if he does get with Rachel for real.
It's kind of nice to know.
*
"I think there's some stuff I need to tell you."
Dr. Berry turns from where he's closing the door to look at Puck. They're still meeting inside the house instead of out in Dr. Berry's office, in the room with the piano. It's the first time that Puck has said something besides "hi" before Dr. Berry got a chance to ask a question.
"Okay, Noah." The man moves to the chair he sat in last week, gesturing for Puck to do the same. "What do you need to tell me?"
Puck takes a deep breath and sits up on the edge of the chair. "I've been getting to know Rachel for the last few months, and I really like her. Your daughter Rachel," he adds, just in case it isn't clear who he's talking about. (There are a lot of girls named Rachel.)
Puck has spent basically the entire week trying to figure out how to tell Dr. Berry that he's super into the guy's daughter. Saying it like this makes him sound like a tool, but he figured it was the least likely to make Dr. Berry throw Puck out on his ass and forbid Rachel to see him before he calls the PO and gets Puck sent back to the Mondale School for Boys.
He knows that's totally possible, too. Dr. Berry knows about all of the terrible shit that Puck's done in the last two years; he knows exactly how fucked up Puck is. Puck understands why the guy wouldn't want his daughter to be involved with him. Hell, technically, Puck has a daughter out there somewhere, and he hates the idea of her being with a dude like him someday, even if he isn't the one raising her. He has to come clean though. He's learned that the longer you let things fester, the worse it is when they come out.
"You like my daughter," Dr. Berry repeats. Puck nods. "Why?"
Puck considers the question for a second before he opens his mouth, but that's mostly just to remind himself not to tell Dr. Berry that his daughter is way hotter than Puck realized before. It's true, but it isn't the most important thing, and it's definitely not something to tell her dad. "I think she might be the nicest person I've ever known," he begins, "and she's smart and forgiving and really, really easy to talk to. Like, it's even easier to talk to her than it is to talk to you," he adds. He thinks it's encouraging that Dr. Berry smiles. He feels like he should say more, but he doesn't know how the hell to say it. "I'm not good with the words stuff, but I really do like her."
Dr. Berry just looks at him, his head tilted and his hands resting lightly on the arms of his chair. Puck feels all twitchy, sitting here and anticipating what the guy's going to say. Because whatever he says, things are going to be totally different by the time Puck leaves here today. He understood that when he started talking, but he's not finished yet, and it's not like knowing shit always makes it any easier to deal with.
"Listening objectively to what you've said, I'd say that this girl seems like a good match for the person that you're trying to become," Dr. Berry says after a moment. "As a father listening to a young man who has been very misguided in the past talk about his daughter, I'm a little less sure."
Puck swallows hard.
"You're totally gonna hate me," he mumbles, mostly to himself. "There's something else."
Dr. Berry looks at him expectantly; Puck notices that he hasn't even picked up his pad and pen from the coffee table.
"I started hanging out with Rachel when I realized that she was your daughter. Because I was afraid that she would tell you about the way I used to treat her, and then you would get me sent back to juvie."
He says it slowly, carefully, as much as he wants to just blurt it out. Not telling the truth has bitten him in the ass before, and he wants to just get it all out now. If this ruins any chance he has with Rachel, fine (even though that would suck), but at least he won't be sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What were you afraid she was going to tell me?" Dr. Berry asks. Puck isn't sure whether or not he should be encouraged by how calm the guy sounds, and he's afraid to meet his eyes and see the expression there.
"I don't know if you know about Rachel getting slushied at school, but I was the one who started that." He forces himself to look at the doctor's face, but he can't read the expression. "I threw frozen drinks in her face, and because I did it, other people did, too." He takes a breath, but Dr. Berry still doesn't say anything. "For what it's worth, I feel like shit about it, and I made sure that it won't happen again."
"Does Rachel know that this is why you started taking an interest?"
"No." Puck feels like dirt when he says it. He hates that this is the reason that he got to know Rachel, that if he hadn't been an asshole to her, he wouldn't have ever gotten to know how awesome she is.
"Noah." Dr. Berry leans forward and waits until Puck meets his eyes. "You need to tell her the truth. And I'm saying that as your therapist as much as her father."
"I'm afraid she's going to hate me. Like, I want her to be my girlfriend, but what if she hates me when I tell her the truth?"
Puck watches Dr. Berry scrub a hand over his face, then lean forward toward Puck again, resting his arms on his thighs. "I'm going to talk to you as her father right now, and not your doctor, and then I'm never going to do it again during an appointment like this, all right?" Puck nods, a little scared of the serious tone of the guy's voice right now. "Rachel is a very forgiving person. To a fault, really. That she forgave you for masterminding the slushying - which I did know about," he interjects with a sharp look in his eyes, "is proof of that. I knew that the two of you were becoming friends, though I didn't realize how serious you were about it."
"I am." It isn't even hard to say when it's the truth. Huh.
"Then you're going to have to tell her the truth and deal with the consequences."
Puck nods. It's good, simple advice.
"Good." Dr. Berry picks up his pad and pen from the table and leans back in his chair, assuming the posture he usually has for these appointments. "Should we change the subject?"
*
He tells her on the phone because he's a fucking coward.
Puck's trying to listen to what she's saying on the phone on Thursday night, but she's talking about these chicks, Maureen and Angela or someone, and he doesn't know who they are and he really doesn't care. All he can think about is what she's going to do when he tells her that this thing between them is built on the fact that he's a jackass and she's apparently the most forgiving person on the planet.
"I have to tell you something," he blurts out, interrupting the story that he hasn't been paying attention to anyhow.
"Okay," she draws out warily.
"Look, you should know that I feel like an asshole for this, and if I could take it back or change it or whatever, I would," he starts, because it feels important that she knows that. He takes a deep breath before he goes on. "When I realized that my shrink was your dad, I was afraid that you were going to tell him about the shit that I used to do and he'd get me sent back to juvie, and that's why I started talking to you and hanging out and stuff."
It's so quiet on the phone that Puck pulls it away from his ear to look at the screen and make sure the call hasn't dropped. She's still there, but the silence is weird.
"So you didn't need help in history," Rachel finally says, her voice quiet.
"Not really," he admits, "but studying with you did improve my grade, so."
She makes a noise that might be a laugh.
"But Rachel, even though my intentions or whatever sucked, I actually do like you. Like, like you."
"Wait. You lied about needing help in school in an effort to befriend me because you were afraid that I was going to tell my father that you used to bully me. But during the course of all of this, you've decided that you actually have some sort of feelings for me."
"It sounds like one of those stupid romantic comedies when you say it like that," he mumbles.
"Noah."
"Yeah. I have," he struggles not to sigh, "feelings for you, okay?" He does let out a sigh when she doesn't say anything. "I told your dad everything."
"I see."
Puck feels like he knows Rachel pretty well by now, and the fact that she doesn't have anything to say right now is freaking him out; Rachel always has something to say. Always. "Rach--"
"It feels like you lied to me," she interrupts, speaking softly. "I suppose you did a little, but I don't care that you didn't need help. But...I kissed you. I told you my secrets, things I've never admitted to anyone. I trusted you, and now you're telling me that it was all a twisted effort to stay on my father's good side."
"That isn't true," Puck insists. "That's how it started, but once I got to know you, it was about you." He doesn't know how else to say it, how else to make her believe that he cares about her and not about whatever shit she could tell her dad about him.
"I need some time to think about all of this, Noah," she finally says. His heart sinks. "I...I just need some time."
"Okay."
"I'm going to go."
"Bye, Rach."
He drops his phone on the bed beside him and flops back against the pillows. He didn't know that it was possible to feel worse than he did when he admitted all this stuff to her dad, but he totally does. Thinking about the way her voice sounded when she realized what he was telling her makes his stomach feel weird and heavy, kind of like it did when he was thirteen and Finn dared him to eat the entire fruitcake that was sent to the Hudsons by some distant relative.
The way he feels right now is all the proof that he needs that he wants to be with Rachel. The thought that she might not even want to be friends with him after all of this sucks almost as much as the idea of going back to juvie.
*
Puck didn't realize how much he and Rachel talked until she stopped talking to him.
She said she needed time, and he's going to give it to her. So he says hey when he sees her in the halls at school (mostly so people don't get it in their heads that he's done with her and try to start picking on her again, and a little bit because he just wants to see her smile directed at him), but otherwise, he leaves her alone. Since they aren't texting and talking, his phone becomes sort of useless. He's playing a lot of Angry Birds and not doing much else.
The more time Rachel takes to "think," the more Puck thinks that means she's going to tell him to fuck off.
He considers saying something about it to Dr. Berry when he goes to his appointment, because it's all he can think about, but it feels weird to talk about Rachel with the guy any more than he has to. Telling him about what had happened before was a necessity; telling him that Rachel is yanking Puck's chain (however unintentionally) now is more than Dr. Berry needs to hear. Instead, he goes back to basics, talking about how much he hates Duke and how his mom is still being really strict with his going out and stuff since he came back home in November.
"You are such a fucking mope," Santana accuses.
Puck's just standing at his locker after school on Friday, shoving his history book and some gym clothes that need to be washed into his backpack. Santana's bitchy commentary is unprovoked and unsolicited.
"And you are such a fucking bitch," he counters blandly. A lot of the time, he actually likes how bitchy Santana can be, but he likes it less when it's directed at him for no good reason.
She just puts one hand on her hip and looks at him. "Did the elf dump you, Noah?" He rolls his eyes. "You are aware that that's pathetic, right?"
"Just shut up, Santana."
She falls into step beside him when he closes his locker and turns to walk away, and her expression has softened when he glances down at her. "Look, are you okay? Because I don't know if I can deal with you being all depressed again like you were with Qui--"
"It's not like that," he interrupts. "I like her, and I may have fucked it up. You being you isn't helping."
Santana looks up at him thoughtfully, slipping through the door in front of him when he pushes it open. "You want me to talk to her?"
"Fuck no," he answers without hesitating. "Didn't you draw the cartoons in the girls' bathroom?"
"That was Quinn. Other than calling her Manhands and Munchkin and shit, I haven't done anything to Rachel," she tells him defensively.
Puck blinks down at her. "Yeah, definitely don't talk to her."
Santana rolls her eyes again and says, "Fine. Stop moping though. It's annoying."
She turns on her heel and is walking across the parking lot to her Mustang before he can say anything.
Conversations like that are exactly the reason that he's still friends with Santana. She's definitely a bitch, but once you're good with her, you're good forever.
*
Puck is really shocked when he opens his front door on Saturday afternoon and sees Rachel standing on his porch.
She's clutching the strap of her bag over her shoulder, standing perfectly straight and looking at him with her big brown eyes. "We have a history test next week," she says after a moment of him just standing there watching her. "It turns out that it's easier for me to study for these exams with you, so I thought I'd come see if you were interested."
Puck doesn't know what to make of the look on her face. It's almost like she's nervous.
"Yeah." He steps aside so she can come into the house. "I'm here alone, but--"
"That's fine," she interrupts, standing at the foot of the stairs and waiting to let him lead her up like he always does.
It's almost like it was the first time she came over to his house, with her sitting in his desk chair turned to face where he's sitting back against his headboard on the bed. Her notebook is balanced on her thighs, and she's quizzing him about Russia and czars and this Rasputin guy (who actually sounds kind of badass).
"Have you already studied for this test?" she asks after a while. Puck gives her a weird look. "You already know everything."
He shrugs. "I guess I just paid attention in class this time."
Puck really likes the little smile that spreads across her lips. "Let's take a break," she suggests, turning to set her notebook on his desk.
"Cool." Puck pushes his book aside and tips his head back to rest against the headboard, closing his eyes. He doesn't really know how to be around her now that she's 'thinking,' but if he looks at her, he's going to want to ask her if she's made up her mind and stuff. He lets himself totally zone out, to the point that he's startled when Rachel breaks the silence.
"I understand why you did what you did." He tips his head forward so he can look at her. "You should know though, that I never would have told my father about what you did, and even if I had, he wouldn't have done anything insidious with the information. We just aren't that sort of people."
He isn't totally sure what insidious means, but he thinks he knows what she's getting at; basically, her dad wouldn't have held the stupid shit Puck had done against him if he'd found out. (He thinks back to the conversation that he had with her dad, when Dr. Berry said that he already knew; this must mean that he knows without Rachel having told him about it, which is kind of a trip. It's not important right now though.) "I know that now," he tells her seriously. And it's the truth; he worried about it the whole time, yeah, but now that he's told the truth about everything, he knows that the Berrys are too good for the shady shit.
"I was afraid to trust you," she confesses after a moment, not quite meeting his eyes. "I was afraid that it was all an elaborate prank. Your history with Quinn, and with Santana..." She trails off, then takes a deep breath. "I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt, and it paid off. Underneath all the bravado, you're actually a very sweet person, and I like spending time with you, regardless of why you pursued the friendship in the first place."
He wants to say something, to tell her that he isn't as sweet as she thinks (he doesn't think that he is) or to tell her that he like spending time with her too. He can tell though that she's thought about what she wants to say, and he doesn't want to interrupt before she gets to the end of her little speech.
"I fell for you," she nearly whispers. "I can forgive your dishonesty because I understand where it came from, and I believe that you'll be honest with me from now on."
"I will," Puck insists quickly, moving to sit at the edge of the bed so her knees are between his. "And I haven't lied about anything else."
"I believe that, too."
He dares to reach for her hand, brushing the tips of his fingers over her palm. "So are we gonna be okay?"
She lets out a tiny breath of a laugh, then nods. "Yeah. We're going to be okay." She looks down at their hands in her lap, watching as Puck slips his fingers between hers. "So...you wanna make out?"
He's still laughing when she pushes him onto his back against the pillows, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him all gently.
*
Monday morning, Puck finds Rachel at her locker and offers to walk her to her first class, earning himself an adorable little smile and the opportunity to walk the halls with her arm looped through his.
If anyone thinks it's weird that they're obviously together now, they don't say anything. Puck thinks that people have gotten used to seeing him with Rachel in the halls enough that it doesn't even register that anything is different.
He thinks wrong, apparently.
"So you worked shit out with the short stack?" Santana asks, sliding into the seat next to his at lunch. She rolls her eyes when he glares. "Come on, that one isn't even mean. It's pancakes. Pancakes are delicious," she insists, scoffing when he still isn't impressed.
"Yeah, we worked it out," he admits. Santana won't let this go, he knows.
She watches him thoughtfully for a moment. "You really like her, huh?" He takes a huge bite of his sandwich to avoid having to talk to her and shrugs his shoulders. Of course, Santana knows all his tricks. "I'm happy for you or whatever," she admits. "Maybe she's not the loser we thought she was. And she's definitely an improvement on Quinn."
She leaves the table before he can swallow, but he feels weirdly good about the fact that Santana approves or whatever. It's nice to know there's someone on their side.
Rachel is waiting at his locker after school, leaned back against the metal with her hands clasped in front of her and her bag sitting at her feet. She stands on her toes to brush a kiss against his lips, then leans against the locker next to his to watch him gather his stuff to take home.
"Santana Lopez invited me to her house for a sleepover on Friday night," she tells him. "Should I be worried about her intentions?"
Puck can't help smiling at the concerned look on her face. He shoulders his backpack and slams his locker door closed. "Let me tell you about Santana," he says, offering Rachel his arm. "Walk with me."
Chapter: 5/5
Pairing: Puck/Rachel
Word Count: 5,100
Summary: AU He isn't worried about Rachel talking about him being in therapy at school. Nope, Puck's worried that Rachel might tell her dad what Puck used to do and Dr. Berry will get him sent back to juvie.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"Hi!" Rachel greets brightly when he finds her at her locker the next day after the last bell. He'd wanted to find her this morning, but it took him hours to fall asleep last night, and once he finally did, the alarm clock wasn't enough to wake him up and he was tardy for first hour.
He's been thinking about what he would do if he found out that the girl he was dating was seeing a shrink. Now, he thinks he'd probably just shrug and ignore it, but a few months ago, before he was in court-ordered counseling himself? He probably would have cut and run, convinced that she was full of crazy that was going to come out sooner or later. He's pretty sure that Rachel is going to have a more open view of therapy in general, since her dad is a doctor and all that, but that's part of the problem, too.
Rachel's dad knows a whole bunch of his deep, dirty secrets.
He's wary of her good mood. "Hey." He doesn't really want to bring up yesterday, but he's pretty sure that putting it off is a bad idea. "How was your lesson?"
"It was good," she answers, pulling open the metal door of her locker and setting her French book inside. "We've been working on songs from West Side Story for a while, and I think I've perfected 'I Have a Love.'"
He blinks at her.
"I also finished my paper for AP English," she goes on, "even though it isn't due until Monday, which I'm feeling quite good about." She finishes slipping books into her backpack and smiles up at him. "I have to go change for ballet club, but I'll text you later?"
"Okay."
She wiggles her fingers in a wave before turning to walk down the hallway, leaving Puck there by her locker trying to figure out what just happened. Did she forget that he was standing at her front door yesterday after an appointment with her dad, the shrink? Or did she just blow him off with a totally sweet smile on her face?
It bugs him all afternoon, and he finds himself checking his phone obsessively, like having that stupid conversation with Rachel in the hallway made him grow a vagina or something. Seriously though, did Rachel Berry blow him off with an excuse about ballet and a wave? Is this her way of ending things and trying to let him down easy?
Rachel always texts when she says she's going to, so he figures that if she doesn't, that's his sign. Not long after dinner though, Puck gets a message that says something about a chorus line and pointy shoes that he cares about not at all. He's just happy that she's talking to him.
your dad is my shrink Puck sends back, ignoring what she said. It's probably the definition of doing it the wrong way, but now he can say that he told her, right?
I already knew, Noah.
"You already knew?"
Yeah, he called her as soon as he got the message.
"Of course I knew," she answers quietly.
"How?"
"That day you ran into me outside of the house. Maybe you didn't remember who I was then, but I certainly hadn't forgotten you." The way she says it, her voice soft and just a little bit guarded, makes him feel like an asshole. "And I've seen your truck parked down the block since your mother gave your keys back," she adds. So much for being covert. Fuck.
"You knew," he repeats, considering what it means. Maybe it just means that she doesn't care that he's in therapy. 'Why didn't you say something?"
"Why didn't you?" she counters softly. He hears her let out a little breath when he doesn't say anything. "I figured that if you were ready to talk about it, you would bring it up. And I know that the fact that your doctor is my father makes it a bit more complicated. I didn't want to make things uncomfortable between us."
"It's one of the terms of my probation," he says. It feels important that she knows that he isn't there by choice. "It doesn't bother you?"
"Of course not. Talking about things is healthy," she says seriously. "I used to speak with a therapist regularly."
"What did you talk about?" Puck asks, his mouth getting ahead of his brain. He wants to take it back immediately; he wouldn't want to tell Rachel everything he talks about, so it sucks of him to ask her. "I'm sorry," he says quickly. "You don't have to tell me."
He can hear the smile in her voice when she says, "It's fine, Noah. I started going to talk about my mother when I was eleven and it really clicked for the first time that I would never have a relationship with her. I've talked about growing up in Lima with gay, bi-racial fathers. I've talked about the things that happened at school."
She says the last part quietly, but the blow still lands and makes him feel like a prick.
"I don't know what your experience has been like," she goes on, "because Daddy certainly doesn't talk about his patients with us, but I think that talking helps."
"Yeah, you talk a lot, Rach," he teases, smiling to himself when she giggles. It's true, but as much as anything, he wants to break some of the tension they've got going right now. This conversation is fucking heavy.
"I thought about you during Mr. Simms' lecture today," she says, changing the subject. He's only half-listening when she starts talking about some French dude, thinking instead about how awesome she is for changing the subject when he was freaking out talking about therapy and hearing how throwing slushies at this girl probably sent her there.
*
"Are you actually dating the creature from Munchkinland?"
Puck doesn't even bother turning away from his lunch to glare at Santana. "Don't be a bitch."
"Seriously, Puck."
He does glare when she reaches over and snags a potato chip from his plate. "She's sweet, okay?" She stares at him blandly. "I like her."
"Is she your girlfriend, Noah?" she asks condescendingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Fuck off."
She rolls her eyes when he takes a huge bite of his sandwich. "Fine. You like her. Whatever." She reaches for his bottle of Coke and starts picking at the label. "Does she give good head?" Santana's watching him expectantly when he looks at her. "She has dick sucking lips, Puck. She looks like she'd be good at it."
He stares at her incredulously. "What is wrong with you?"
She smirks. "So serious, Noah." She stands up, leaning over and putting her lips right next to his ear. "Hundred bucks says she likes it, too," she whispers, turning on her heel and walking away before Puck can even look up at her.
As fucking twisted as she is though, he knows Santana, and this is her way of letting him know that she isn't going to be a bitch about it if he does get with Rachel for real.
It's kind of nice to know.
*
"I think there's some stuff I need to tell you."
Dr. Berry turns from where he's closing the door to look at Puck. They're still meeting inside the house instead of out in Dr. Berry's office, in the room with the piano. It's the first time that Puck has said something besides "hi" before Dr. Berry got a chance to ask a question.
"Okay, Noah." The man moves to the chair he sat in last week, gesturing for Puck to do the same. "What do you need to tell me?"
Puck takes a deep breath and sits up on the edge of the chair. "I've been getting to know Rachel for the last few months, and I really like her. Your daughter Rachel," he adds, just in case it isn't clear who he's talking about. (There are a lot of girls named Rachel.)
Puck has spent basically the entire week trying to figure out how to tell Dr. Berry that he's super into the guy's daughter. Saying it like this makes him sound like a tool, but he figured it was the least likely to make Dr. Berry throw Puck out on his ass and forbid Rachel to see him before he calls the PO and gets Puck sent back to the Mondale School for Boys.
He knows that's totally possible, too. Dr. Berry knows about all of the terrible shit that Puck's done in the last two years; he knows exactly how fucked up Puck is. Puck understands why the guy wouldn't want his daughter to be involved with him. Hell, technically, Puck has a daughter out there somewhere, and he hates the idea of her being with a dude like him someday, even if he isn't the one raising her. He has to come clean though. He's learned that the longer you let things fester, the worse it is when they come out.
"You like my daughter," Dr. Berry repeats. Puck nods. "Why?"
Puck considers the question for a second before he opens his mouth, but that's mostly just to remind himself not to tell Dr. Berry that his daughter is way hotter than Puck realized before. It's true, but it isn't the most important thing, and it's definitely not something to tell her dad. "I think she might be the nicest person I've ever known," he begins, "and she's smart and forgiving and really, really easy to talk to. Like, it's even easier to talk to her than it is to talk to you," he adds. He thinks it's encouraging that Dr. Berry smiles. He feels like he should say more, but he doesn't know how the hell to say it. "I'm not good with the words stuff, but I really do like her."
Dr. Berry just looks at him, his head tilted and his hands resting lightly on the arms of his chair. Puck feels all twitchy, sitting here and anticipating what the guy's going to say. Because whatever he says, things are going to be totally different by the time Puck leaves here today. He understood that when he started talking, but he's not finished yet, and it's not like knowing shit always makes it any easier to deal with.
"Listening objectively to what you've said, I'd say that this girl seems like a good match for the person that you're trying to become," Dr. Berry says after a moment. "As a father listening to a young man who has been very misguided in the past talk about his daughter, I'm a little less sure."
Puck swallows hard.
"You're totally gonna hate me," he mumbles, mostly to himself. "There's something else."
Dr. Berry looks at him expectantly; Puck notices that he hasn't even picked up his pad and pen from the coffee table.
"I started hanging out with Rachel when I realized that she was your daughter. Because I was afraid that she would tell you about the way I used to treat her, and then you would get me sent back to juvie."
He says it slowly, carefully, as much as he wants to just blurt it out. Not telling the truth has bitten him in the ass before, and he wants to just get it all out now. If this ruins any chance he has with Rachel, fine (even though that would suck), but at least he won't be sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What were you afraid she was going to tell me?" Dr. Berry asks. Puck isn't sure whether or not he should be encouraged by how calm the guy sounds, and he's afraid to meet his eyes and see the expression there.
"I don't know if you know about Rachel getting slushied at school, but I was the one who started that." He forces himself to look at the doctor's face, but he can't read the expression. "I threw frozen drinks in her face, and because I did it, other people did, too." He takes a breath, but Dr. Berry still doesn't say anything. "For what it's worth, I feel like shit about it, and I made sure that it won't happen again."
"Does Rachel know that this is why you started taking an interest?"
"No." Puck feels like dirt when he says it. He hates that this is the reason that he got to know Rachel, that if he hadn't been an asshole to her, he wouldn't have ever gotten to know how awesome she is.
"Noah." Dr. Berry leans forward and waits until Puck meets his eyes. "You need to tell her the truth. And I'm saying that as your therapist as much as her father."
"I'm afraid she's going to hate me. Like, I want her to be my girlfriend, but what if she hates me when I tell her the truth?"
Puck watches Dr. Berry scrub a hand over his face, then lean forward toward Puck again, resting his arms on his thighs. "I'm going to talk to you as her father right now, and not your doctor, and then I'm never going to do it again during an appointment like this, all right?" Puck nods, a little scared of the serious tone of the guy's voice right now. "Rachel is a very forgiving person. To a fault, really. That she forgave you for masterminding the slushying - which I did know about," he interjects with a sharp look in his eyes, "is proof of that. I knew that the two of you were becoming friends, though I didn't realize how serious you were about it."
"I am." It isn't even hard to say when it's the truth. Huh.
"Then you're going to have to tell her the truth and deal with the consequences."
Puck nods. It's good, simple advice.
"Good." Dr. Berry picks up his pad and pen from the table and leans back in his chair, assuming the posture he usually has for these appointments. "Should we change the subject?"
*
He tells her on the phone because he's a fucking coward.
Puck's trying to listen to what she's saying on the phone on Thursday night, but she's talking about these chicks, Maureen and Angela or someone, and he doesn't know who they are and he really doesn't care. All he can think about is what she's going to do when he tells her that this thing between them is built on the fact that he's a jackass and she's apparently the most forgiving person on the planet.
"I have to tell you something," he blurts out, interrupting the story that he hasn't been paying attention to anyhow.
"Okay," she draws out warily.
"Look, you should know that I feel like an asshole for this, and if I could take it back or change it or whatever, I would," he starts, because it feels important that she knows that. He takes a deep breath before he goes on. "When I realized that my shrink was your dad, I was afraid that you were going to tell him about the shit that I used to do and he'd get me sent back to juvie, and that's why I started talking to you and hanging out and stuff."
It's so quiet on the phone that Puck pulls it away from his ear to look at the screen and make sure the call hasn't dropped. She's still there, but the silence is weird.
"So you didn't need help in history," Rachel finally says, her voice quiet.
"Not really," he admits, "but studying with you did improve my grade, so."
She makes a noise that might be a laugh.
"But Rachel, even though my intentions or whatever sucked, I actually do like you. Like, like you."
"Wait. You lied about needing help in school in an effort to befriend me because you were afraid that I was going to tell my father that you used to bully me. But during the course of all of this, you've decided that you actually have some sort of feelings for me."
"It sounds like one of those stupid romantic comedies when you say it like that," he mumbles.
"Noah."
"Yeah. I have," he struggles not to sigh, "feelings for you, okay?" He does let out a sigh when she doesn't say anything. "I told your dad everything."
"I see."
Puck feels like he knows Rachel pretty well by now, and the fact that she doesn't have anything to say right now is freaking him out; Rachel always has something to say. Always. "Rach--"
"It feels like you lied to me," she interrupts, speaking softly. "I suppose you did a little, but I don't care that you didn't need help. But...I kissed you. I told you my secrets, things I've never admitted to anyone. I trusted you, and now you're telling me that it was all a twisted effort to stay on my father's good side."
"That isn't true," Puck insists. "That's how it started, but once I got to know you, it was about you." He doesn't know how else to say it, how else to make her believe that he cares about her and not about whatever shit she could tell her dad about him.
"I need some time to think about all of this, Noah," she finally says. His heart sinks. "I...I just need some time."
"Okay."
"I'm going to go."
"Bye, Rach."
He drops his phone on the bed beside him and flops back against the pillows. He didn't know that it was possible to feel worse than he did when he admitted all this stuff to her dad, but he totally does. Thinking about the way her voice sounded when she realized what he was telling her makes his stomach feel weird and heavy, kind of like it did when he was thirteen and Finn dared him to eat the entire fruitcake that was sent to the Hudsons by some distant relative.
The way he feels right now is all the proof that he needs that he wants to be with Rachel. The thought that she might not even want to be friends with him after all of this sucks almost as much as the idea of going back to juvie.
*
Puck didn't realize how much he and Rachel talked until she stopped talking to him.
She said she needed time, and he's going to give it to her. So he says hey when he sees her in the halls at school (mostly so people don't get it in their heads that he's done with her and try to start picking on her again, and a little bit because he just wants to see her smile directed at him), but otherwise, he leaves her alone. Since they aren't texting and talking, his phone becomes sort of useless. He's playing a lot of Angry Birds and not doing much else.
The more time Rachel takes to "think," the more Puck thinks that means she's going to tell him to fuck off.
He considers saying something about it to Dr. Berry when he goes to his appointment, because it's all he can think about, but it feels weird to talk about Rachel with the guy any more than he has to. Telling him about what had happened before was a necessity; telling him that Rachel is yanking Puck's chain (however unintentionally) now is more than Dr. Berry needs to hear. Instead, he goes back to basics, talking about how much he hates Duke and how his mom is still being really strict with his going out and stuff since he came back home in November.
"You are such a fucking mope," Santana accuses.
Puck's just standing at his locker after school on Friday, shoving his history book and some gym clothes that need to be washed into his backpack. Santana's bitchy commentary is unprovoked and unsolicited.
"And you are such a fucking bitch," he counters blandly. A lot of the time, he actually likes how bitchy Santana can be, but he likes it less when it's directed at him for no good reason.
She just puts one hand on her hip and looks at him. "Did the elf dump you, Noah?" He rolls his eyes. "You are aware that that's pathetic, right?"
"Just shut up, Santana."
She falls into step beside him when he closes his locker and turns to walk away, and her expression has softened when he glances down at her. "Look, are you okay? Because I don't know if I can deal with you being all depressed again like you were with Qui--"
"It's not like that," he interrupts. "I like her, and I may have fucked it up. You being you isn't helping."
Santana looks up at him thoughtfully, slipping through the door in front of him when he pushes it open. "You want me to talk to her?"
"Fuck no," he answers without hesitating. "Didn't you draw the cartoons in the girls' bathroom?"
"That was Quinn. Other than calling her Manhands and Munchkin and shit, I haven't done anything to Rachel," she tells him defensively.
Puck blinks down at her. "Yeah, definitely don't talk to her."
Santana rolls her eyes again and says, "Fine. Stop moping though. It's annoying."
She turns on her heel and is walking across the parking lot to her Mustang before he can say anything.
Conversations like that are exactly the reason that he's still friends with Santana. She's definitely a bitch, but once you're good with her, you're good forever.
*
Puck is really shocked when he opens his front door on Saturday afternoon and sees Rachel standing on his porch.
She's clutching the strap of her bag over her shoulder, standing perfectly straight and looking at him with her big brown eyes. "We have a history test next week," she says after a moment of him just standing there watching her. "It turns out that it's easier for me to study for these exams with you, so I thought I'd come see if you were interested."
Puck doesn't know what to make of the look on her face. It's almost like she's nervous.
"Yeah." He steps aside so she can come into the house. "I'm here alone, but--"
"That's fine," she interrupts, standing at the foot of the stairs and waiting to let him lead her up like he always does.
It's almost like it was the first time she came over to his house, with her sitting in his desk chair turned to face where he's sitting back against his headboard on the bed. Her notebook is balanced on her thighs, and she's quizzing him about Russia and czars and this Rasputin guy (who actually sounds kind of badass).
"Have you already studied for this test?" she asks after a while. Puck gives her a weird look. "You already know everything."
He shrugs. "I guess I just paid attention in class this time."
Puck really likes the little smile that spreads across her lips. "Let's take a break," she suggests, turning to set her notebook on his desk.
"Cool." Puck pushes his book aside and tips his head back to rest against the headboard, closing his eyes. He doesn't really know how to be around her now that she's 'thinking,' but if he looks at her, he's going to want to ask her if she's made up her mind and stuff. He lets himself totally zone out, to the point that he's startled when Rachel breaks the silence.
"I understand why you did what you did." He tips his head forward so he can look at her. "You should know though, that I never would have told my father about what you did, and even if I had, he wouldn't have done anything insidious with the information. We just aren't that sort of people."
He isn't totally sure what insidious means, but he thinks he knows what she's getting at; basically, her dad wouldn't have held the stupid shit Puck had done against him if he'd found out. (He thinks back to the conversation that he had with her dad, when Dr. Berry said that he already knew; this must mean that he knows without Rachel having told him about it, which is kind of a trip. It's not important right now though.) "I know that now," he tells her seriously. And it's the truth; he worried about it the whole time, yeah, but now that he's told the truth about everything, he knows that the Berrys are too good for the shady shit.
"I was afraid to trust you," she confesses after a moment, not quite meeting his eyes. "I was afraid that it was all an elaborate prank. Your history with Quinn, and with Santana..." She trails off, then takes a deep breath. "I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt, and it paid off. Underneath all the bravado, you're actually a very sweet person, and I like spending time with you, regardless of why you pursued the friendship in the first place."
He wants to say something, to tell her that he isn't as sweet as she thinks (he doesn't think that he is) or to tell her that he like spending time with her too. He can tell though that she's thought about what she wants to say, and he doesn't want to interrupt before she gets to the end of her little speech.
"I fell for you," she nearly whispers. "I can forgive your dishonesty because I understand where it came from, and I believe that you'll be honest with me from now on."
"I will," Puck insists quickly, moving to sit at the edge of the bed so her knees are between his. "And I haven't lied about anything else."
"I believe that, too."
He dares to reach for her hand, brushing the tips of his fingers over her palm. "So are we gonna be okay?"
She lets out a tiny breath of a laugh, then nods. "Yeah. We're going to be okay." She looks down at their hands in her lap, watching as Puck slips his fingers between hers. "So...you wanna make out?"
He's still laughing when she pushes him onto his back against the pillows, straddling his hips and leaning down to kiss him all gently.
*
Monday morning, Puck finds Rachel at her locker and offers to walk her to her first class, earning himself an adorable little smile and the opportunity to walk the halls with her arm looped through his.
If anyone thinks it's weird that they're obviously together now, they don't say anything. Puck thinks that people have gotten used to seeing him with Rachel in the halls enough that it doesn't even register that anything is different.
He thinks wrong, apparently.
"So you worked shit out with the short stack?" Santana asks, sliding into the seat next to his at lunch. She rolls her eyes when he glares. "Come on, that one isn't even mean. It's pancakes. Pancakes are delicious," she insists, scoffing when he still isn't impressed.
"Yeah, we worked it out," he admits. Santana won't let this go, he knows.
She watches him thoughtfully for a moment. "You really like her, huh?" He takes a huge bite of his sandwich to avoid having to talk to her and shrugs his shoulders. Of course, Santana knows all his tricks. "I'm happy for you or whatever," she admits. "Maybe she's not the loser we thought she was. And she's definitely an improvement on Quinn."
She leaves the table before he can swallow, but he feels weirdly good about the fact that Santana approves or whatever. It's nice to know there's someone on their side.
Rachel is waiting at his locker after school, leaned back against the metal with her hands clasped in front of her and her bag sitting at her feet. She stands on her toes to brush a kiss against his lips, then leans against the locker next to his to watch him gather his stuff to take home.
"Santana Lopez invited me to her house for a sleepover on Friday night," she tells him. "Should I be worried about her intentions?"
Puck can't help smiling at the concerned look on her face. He shoulders his backpack and slams his locker door closed. "Let me tell you about Santana," he says, offering Rachel his arm. "Walk with me."