Fic: Maybe Someday
Title: Maybe Someday
Author: pterawaters
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Finn/Puck, Carole
Warning: underage sex mentioned, slash, miscarriage
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine at all
Word Count: 1700
Author Notes: This was written for the Weekly Writing Challenge (#3) over at gleempreg .
Theme: Angst
Prompt(s): Miscarriage, Teen pregnancy scare
Summary: It was an accident of boredom, really. Puck never meant to knock up his best friend or put him in the hospital.
It was an accident of boredom, really, when Puck thought about it, hand on Finn’s back as the guy puked into the cracked-yellow toilet bowl of his mom’s late-seventies decorated bathroom. This was what happened when you left a guy like Puck alone with his best friend and no supervision every day for the entire summer. It didn’t matter that he was almost fifteen and so was Finn. Both of their moms were stupid to have left them to their own devices or whatever.
“You alright, man?” Puck asked his best friend, wiping the sweat off Finn’s brow with one clammy palm. “That it?”
“Yeah,” Finn groaned, sitting back and resting against Puck - who the fuck said that was okay? - before he said, “Thanks, babe.”
“I told you to cut it with that ‘babe’ crap, Hudson,” Puck hissed in response, but he didn’t push Finn away or anything. He wasn’t that heartless, especially since it was his fault Hudson was like this. Or his mom’s fault. Whatever. “It’s not like we’re boyfriends.”
Finn lifted his eyes to meet Puck’s and shit, man, was he about to cry or something? Damn it.
Holding Finn closer and kissing his temple, Puck whispered, “Sorry, Finn. I didn’t mean it. I love you or whatever.”
“Love you, too,” Finn sighed, rubbing his belly as he set his head back against Puck’s shoulder. “We’re really doing this?”
“Yeah,” Puck replied, putting his hand over Finn’s on the guy’s stomach. “We just have to figure out how to tell our moms.”
Finn laughed a little humorlessly and scoffed, “Shit.”
**88**
When Puck’s phone rang in the middle of the night and he saw it was Finn, he almost didn’t answer. The dude probably just wanted to complain about how he didn’t have any ice cream left or whatever. But since he’d called instead of texting, Puck started to get a bad feeling and picked up before it could go to voicemail.
“What, dude?”
“I…” Finn just about choked, and yeah, okay, something was definitely wrong.
Heart beating heavily in his chest, Puck sat up out of bed and asked, “What is it, Finn?”
The guy took a harsh breath and said something that sounded like, “S’wrong. S’mthin’s wrong. I… Fuck! It hurts, Noah! There’s blood…”
“Shit,” Puck breathed, knowing if anyone had to keep it together right now it was him. Finn was impossible with these things. “Go wake up your mom,” he ordered, pulling on his Converse and an old sweatshirt. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Whad’do I tell her?”
“I don’t know, man,” Puck replied softly, opening his window and climbing down the trellis to the driveway below. “The truth?”
“Then she’ll know we…”
Puck would have laughed if he wasn’t so scared about what might be happening to his boy and their kid. “Too late to worry about that, babe. Just go wake her up, okay?”
As soon as Finn mumbled, “Okay,” Puck hung up and pocketed his phone so he could sprint down the street and through a few back yards, cutting the two streets between his and Finn’s.
He got there just as the light in the front room turned on, so Puck banged on the front door, calling, “Hey, it’s me! Lemme in! It’s Puck!” In the distance a siren wailed, and oh, fuck. Carole Hudson was a nurse. She wouldn’t have called an ambulance unless Finn really needed one.
Maybe it wasn’t coming to get Finn.
Puck kept pounding on the door until Carole opened it, frowning at him as she said, “It’s the middle of the night, Noah! What are you doing here?”
“Finn called me, Mrs. H,” Puck replied, pushing his way past her so he could get to Finn. The dude was laying on the living room couch clutching his stomach, his lower half wrapped in his cowboy comforter. “I’m here, dude. I’m here.”
Finn nodded and reached out with one hand, but he didn’t open his eyes, instead grimacing and clutching Puck’s arm tightly. The sirens were getting closer as Carole kneeled down beside them, petting Finn’s sweat-soaked hair away from his face. “He won’t tell me what’s wrong bit there's too much blood here."
“Fuck,” Puck swore softly, frowning at Finn, whose eyes were closed tightly. “He’s pregnant. Sorry, Mrs. H.”
“He’s…” Carole started to say before Puck could see her brain working through the information. "I see. Oh! Oh, god! He's miscarrying..."
"No," Finn insisted and Jesus, those sirens were getting close. "No, 'm not! It's somethin' else!"
As Carole shook her head and scrambled up to go meet the ambulance, Puck grabbed Finn by the head and kissed his lips, his face, whatever. "It'll be fine, Finn," he promised, watching blood seep through Finn's cowboy blanket. "It'll be fine."
And then a big guy was pulling Puck away and shoving him at Carole while a woman shined a light in Finn's eyes and pulled away a blanket to reveal his dark-soaked pajama bottoms. Puck felt like he was gonna be sick.
Quicker than Puck could think, his best friend was swaddled with miles of gauze and shit and loaded onto a stretcher. Carole pushed a set of keys into his hands and said, "Follow us in my car, Noah. Okay?"
Licking his lips nervously as Finn disappeared from the house, Puck nodded, even though he didn't have his license. Carole knew he'd been driving his mom's car when Sarah needed to be picked up from school and Ruth was working the evening shift.
Carole rushed after her son and then Puck was alone in the house, staring at the small, rusty stain on Carole's yellow couch. How? How was he supposed to drive knowing his best friend was dying because of him?
It was boredom's fault. Boredom had led to porn which had led to handjobs and making out which had led to sex. Sex had gotten Finn pregnant. Go figure, Puck had to have a best friend who was one of the one-in-a-thousand dudes who could get pregnant.
But now he probably wasn't anymore. Instead, he was bleeding to death in an ambulance that Puck had to figure out how to follow while his hands wouldn't stop shaking. How?
Putting thoughts of the kid he thought he was going to have out of his mind, Puck took a deep breath and left the house, thinking it absurd he thought to lock the door behind him. He got into and started Carole's Ford, backing out carefully and following the sirens through the empty Lima streets and toward the hospital.
**88**
Finn wanted to sleep forever, drawn down into comfortable depths of unconsciousness where everything was fuzzy and warm and nothing hurt and his mother wouldn’t yell at him. He couldn’t quite remember why she would yell at him, but he was sure it had something to do with Puck. Puck always got him in trouble, ever since they were little. Was it Finn’s fault that every time Puck opened his mouth, what came out sounded like such a good idea?
What was it this time? God, it was bothering Finn that he couldn’t remember. Firecrackers in the school toilets? Ding-dong ditch? Nailing furniture on that one kid’s roof?
Oh, wait.
No.
No, no, no, no.
Finn couldn’t be remembering right, could he?
It was just a stupid nightmare and as soon as he could struggle out of sleep, Finn would be able to see that it wasn’t true. None of it was true.
If none of it was true, why did he feel so … sad?
He felt the tears rolling down from the sides of his eyes before he felt anything else, the droplets tickling his skin as they fell, wetting the pillow on either side of his head and making someone whisper beside him, “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.” The voice said and Finn couldn’t quite tell who it was, since they were whispering. It sounded kinda like Puck, but he was being much nicer than normal.
“Is it…?” Finn asked without opening his eyes, his throat raw and dry. “The…?”
“Gone,” the voice supplied, pulling Finn closer when he couldn’t help but let out a sob.
It was an accident in the first place. Finn should be happy about this right? Even if he and Puck were still trying to decide whether or not to keep it, he should be happy that he didn’t have to deal.
He just felt drained and so, so sad.
“I’m sorry, Finn,” Puck said, and Finn could tell it was him now - it smelled like him. “I’m sorry. I never meant to do this to you.”
Taking a long, shuddering breath, Finn nodded against Puck’s hoodie and opened his eyes, the hospital lights too brightly harsh. Blinking, he asked, “Where’s my mom?”
“Getting some breakfast,” Puck replied, pushing Finn back against the mattress, the light behind him reminding Finn of all those careless, sweaty summer afternoons. “She’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay,” Finn nodded, reaching his hand out for Puck’s and holding onto him for dear life. “Okay.”
**88**
Finn and his mom never really talked about it, except for her telling him to be careful in the future and giving him a concerned look whenever he said he was going over to Puck’s house. The only thing that made any of this better was the doctor telling Finn the baby didn’t develop right - it never had a brain - and there was nothing he could have done.
“Am I stupid to want to try again?” Finn asked after sneaking into Puck’s room in the middle of the night and joining him in his bed. “I’m stupid, right?”
“Yeah,” Puck replied, pulling Finn closer, “but I totally get what you mean, dude.”
Finn sighed and turned over so he could count the glow-in-the-dark stars on Puck’s ceiling, too. “Maybe when we’re older. I just want this feeling to go the fuck away.”
“Me too,” Puck replied, turning to bury his face in Finn’s neck. “Dude?” he asked, muffled against Finn’s skin in that way that made Finn feel warm all over.
“Yeah?”
“Did you get taller?”
Finn chuckled a little and got his arm under Puck’s neck so he could hold his best friend closer. “I totally did. In a few months, I’m gonna be taller than you.”
Sleepily, Puck wrapped his arm across Finn’s chest and replied, “Never gonna happen.”
Author: pterawaters
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Finn/Puck, Carole
Warning: underage sex mentioned, slash, miscarriage
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Glee is not mine at all
Word Count: 1700
Author Notes: This was written for the Weekly Writing Challenge (#3) over at gleempreg .
Theme: Angst
Prompt(s): Miscarriage, Teen pregnancy scare
Summary: It was an accident of boredom, really. Puck never meant to knock up his best friend or put him in the hospital.
It was an accident of boredom, really, when Puck thought about it, hand on Finn’s back as the guy puked into the cracked-yellow toilet bowl of his mom’s late-seventies decorated bathroom. This was what happened when you left a guy like Puck alone with his best friend and no supervision every day for the entire summer. It didn’t matter that he was almost fifteen and so was Finn. Both of their moms were stupid to have left them to their own devices or whatever.
“You alright, man?” Puck asked his best friend, wiping the sweat off Finn’s brow with one clammy palm. “That it?”
“Yeah,” Finn groaned, sitting back and resting against Puck - who the fuck said that was okay? - before he said, “Thanks, babe.”
“I told you to cut it with that ‘babe’ crap, Hudson,” Puck hissed in response, but he didn’t push Finn away or anything. He wasn’t that heartless, especially since it was his fault Hudson was like this. Or his mom’s fault. Whatever. “It’s not like we’re boyfriends.”
Finn lifted his eyes to meet Puck’s and shit, man, was he about to cry or something? Damn it.
Holding Finn closer and kissing his temple, Puck whispered, “Sorry, Finn. I didn’t mean it. I love you or whatever.”
“Love you, too,” Finn sighed, rubbing his belly as he set his head back against Puck’s shoulder. “We’re really doing this?”
“Yeah,” Puck replied, putting his hand over Finn’s on the guy’s stomach. “We just have to figure out how to tell our moms.”
Finn laughed a little humorlessly and scoffed, “Shit.”
**88**
When Puck’s phone rang in the middle of the night and he saw it was Finn, he almost didn’t answer. The dude probably just wanted to complain about how he didn’t have any ice cream left or whatever. But since he’d called instead of texting, Puck started to get a bad feeling and picked up before it could go to voicemail.
“What, dude?”
“I…” Finn just about choked, and yeah, okay, something was definitely wrong.
Heart beating heavily in his chest, Puck sat up out of bed and asked, “What is it, Finn?”
The guy took a harsh breath and said something that sounded like, “S’wrong. S’mthin’s wrong. I… Fuck! It hurts, Noah! There’s blood…”
“Shit,” Puck breathed, knowing if anyone had to keep it together right now it was him. Finn was impossible with these things. “Go wake up your mom,” he ordered, pulling on his Converse and an old sweatshirt. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Whad’do I tell her?”
“I don’t know, man,” Puck replied softly, opening his window and climbing down the trellis to the driveway below. “The truth?”
“Then she’ll know we…”
Puck would have laughed if he wasn’t so scared about what might be happening to his boy and their kid. “Too late to worry about that, babe. Just go wake her up, okay?”
As soon as Finn mumbled, “Okay,” Puck hung up and pocketed his phone so he could sprint down the street and through a few back yards, cutting the two streets between his and Finn’s.
He got there just as the light in the front room turned on, so Puck banged on the front door, calling, “Hey, it’s me! Lemme in! It’s Puck!” In the distance a siren wailed, and oh, fuck. Carole Hudson was a nurse. She wouldn’t have called an ambulance unless Finn really needed one.
Maybe it wasn’t coming to get Finn.
Puck kept pounding on the door until Carole opened it, frowning at him as she said, “It’s the middle of the night, Noah! What are you doing here?”
“Finn called me, Mrs. H,” Puck replied, pushing his way past her so he could get to Finn. The dude was laying on the living room couch clutching his stomach, his lower half wrapped in his cowboy comforter. “I’m here, dude. I’m here.”
Finn nodded and reached out with one hand, but he didn’t open his eyes, instead grimacing and clutching Puck’s arm tightly. The sirens were getting closer as Carole kneeled down beside them, petting Finn’s sweat-soaked hair away from his face. “He won’t tell me what’s wrong bit there's too much blood here."
“Fuck,” Puck swore softly, frowning at Finn, whose eyes were closed tightly. “He’s pregnant. Sorry, Mrs. H.”
“He’s…” Carole started to say before Puck could see her brain working through the information. "I see. Oh! Oh, god! He's miscarrying..."
"No," Finn insisted and Jesus, those sirens were getting close. "No, 'm not! It's somethin' else!"
As Carole shook her head and scrambled up to go meet the ambulance, Puck grabbed Finn by the head and kissed his lips, his face, whatever. "It'll be fine, Finn," he promised, watching blood seep through Finn's cowboy blanket. "It'll be fine."
And then a big guy was pulling Puck away and shoving him at Carole while a woman shined a light in Finn's eyes and pulled away a blanket to reveal his dark-soaked pajama bottoms. Puck felt like he was gonna be sick.
Quicker than Puck could think, his best friend was swaddled with miles of gauze and shit and loaded onto a stretcher. Carole pushed a set of keys into his hands and said, "Follow us in my car, Noah. Okay?"
Licking his lips nervously as Finn disappeared from the house, Puck nodded, even though he didn't have his license. Carole knew he'd been driving his mom's car when Sarah needed to be picked up from school and Ruth was working the evening shift.
Carole rushed after her son and then Puck was alone in the house, staring at the small, rusty stain on Carole's yellow couch. How? How was he supposed to drive knowing his best friend was dying because of him?
It was boredom's fault. Boredom had led to porn which had led to handjobs and making out which had led to sex. Sex had gotten Finn pregnant. Go figure, Puck had to have a best friend who was one of the one-in-a-thousand dudes who could get pregnant.
But now he probably wasn't anymore. Instead, he was bleeding to death in an ambulance that Puck had to figure out how to follow while his hands wouldn't stop shaking. How?
Putting thoughts of the kid he thought he was going to have out of his mind, Puck took a deep breath and left the house, thinking it absurd he thought to lock the door behind him. He got into and started Carole's Ford, backing out carefully and following the sirens through the empty Lima streets and toward the hospital.
**88**
Finn wanted to sleep forever, drawn down into comfortable depths of unconsciousness where everything was fuzzy and warm and nothing hurt and his mother wouldn’t yell at him. He couldn’t quite remember why she would yell at him, but he was sure it had something to do with Puck. Puck always got him in trouble, ever since they were little. Was it Finn’s fault that every time Puck opened his mouth, what came out sounded like such a good idea?
What was it this time? God, it was bothering Finn that he couldn’t remember. Firecrackers in the school toilets? Ding-dong ditch? Nailing furniture on that one kid’s roof?
Oh, wait.
No.
No, no, no, no.
Finn couldn’t be remembering right, could he?
It was just a stupid nightmare and as soon as he could struggle out of sleep, Finn would be able to see that it wasn’t true. None of it was true.
If none of it was true, why did he feel so … sad?
He felt the tears rolling down from the sides of his eyes before he felt anything else, the droplets tickling his skin as they fell, wetting the pillow on either side of his head and making someone whisper beside him, “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.” The voice said and Finn couldn’t quite tell who it was, since they were whispering. It sounded kinda like Puck, but he was being much nicer than normal.
“Is it…?” Finn asked without opening his eyes, his throat raw and dry. “The…?”
“Gone,” the voice supplied, pulling Finn closer when he couldn’t help but let out a sob.
It was an accident in the first place. Finn should be happy about this right? Even if he and Puck were still trying to decide whether or not to keep it, he should be happy that he didn’t have to deal.
He just felt drained and so, so sad.
“I’m sorry, Finn,” Puck said, and Finn could tell it was him now - it smelled like him. “I’m sorry. I never meant to do this to you.”
Taking a long, shuddering breath, Finn nodded against Puck’s hoodie and opened his eyes, the hospital lights too brightly harsh. Blinking, he asked, “Where’s my mom?”
“Getting some breakfast,” Puck replied, pushing Finn back against the mattress, the light behind him reminding Finn of all those careless, sweaty summer afternoons. “She’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay,” Finn nodded, reaching his hand out for Puck’s and holding onto him for dear life. “Okay.”
**88**
Finn and his mom never really talked about it, except for her telling him to be careful in the future and giving him a concerned look whenever he said he was going over to Puck’s house. The only thing that made any of this better was the doctor telling Finn the baby didn’t develop right - it never had a brain - and there was nothing he could have done.
“Am I stupid to want to try again?” Finn asked after sneaking into Puck’s room in the middle of the night and joining him in his bed. “I’m stupid, right?”
“Yeah,” Puck replied, pulling Finn closer, “but I totally get what you mean, dude.”
Finn sighed and turned over so he could count the glow-in-the-dark stars on Puck’s ceiling, too. “Maybe when we’re older. I just want this feeling to go the fuck away.”
“Me too,” Puck replied, turning to bury his face in Finn’s neck. “Dude?” he asked, muffled against Finn’s skin in that way that made Finn feel warm all over.
“Yeah?”
“Did you get taller?”
Finn chuckled a little and got his arm under Puck’s neck so he could hold his best friend closer. “I totally did. In a few months, I’m gonna be taller than you.”
Sleepily, Puck wrapped his arm across Finn’s chest and replied, “Never gonna happen.”