Jack the Lion [1/3]
Title: Jack the Lion
Rating: M, for language
Characters: Puck, Rachel, Finn
Spoiler(s): Up to current aired US episodes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I get nothing. Please don't sue.
Summary: Three friends. A road trip. And a dying father.
This story is based on a prompt (of the same name) from the glee_angst_meme that I can no longer find the URL to. If anybody can help me locate this prompt, I would be extremely grateful. Thanks!
At two o’clock in the morning, something falls through the window and hits the floor with a pained grunt. Finn starts violently at the noise, fumbling with his bedspread until his legs tangle in the sheets and send him sprawling to the floor. His heart hammers hard in his chest as he pushes to his knees and turns to blink incredulously at the sudden appearance of his best friend.
“Puck? What are you doing here?”
“Lower your voice! Fuck. You want to wake up the whole damn house?”
“No, but-”
“Shut up! No time. Get your shit. We’re going on a road trip.”
“What?” Finn scrubs furiously at his sleep-crusted eyes. “Why? What’s going on?”
Puck’s jaw ticks and he shoves to his feet. He grabs Finn’s gym bag and unceremoniously dumps dirty football gear onto the ground before he starts to rifle through the dresser and, grabbing blindly, begins stuffing clean clothes into it.
Finn jumps, startled. “What the hell are you doing?” He reaches out to grab hold of Puck’s shoulder, but the teen tenses and pushes away before contact can be made. Finn stops, retracting his hand. “Puck?” Puck stops too, back to Finn, whole body trembling. “You’re freaking me out. What happened?”
“My father is dying.”
“What?”
Puck doesn’t repeat himself though, just turns and shoves the bag at Finn and shoulders past him toward the window. He stands there a moment, looks out into the night sky, and nods. He inhales a shaky breath and hefts himself up and over and starts to climb down without another word.
Finn looks between the half-empty pack in his hand and the window to his left and swallows thickly. He shoves a few more articles of clothing into his bag and tugs on a pair of jeans and some shoes and pulls on a red Titans hoody before he follows his friend, scaling down the trellis and jumping the final few feet before straightening and brushing the dirt off himself. He looks back up at the darkened bedroom window where his mom and Burt reside and gnaws his bottom lip worriedly.
“You want to leave a note?” asks Puck, drawing Finn from his thoughts. “Let them know you’ll be with me?”
“I’ll call in the morning,” says Finn. “It’ll be fine.”
Puck shakes his head, turns, and stops.
“What the fuck?”
Rachel jumps off the tailgate of his truck and crosses her arms over her chest determinedly, bag at her feet.
-
Puck drives, Finn calls shotgun, and Rachel sits behind the two in the middle with a plush, pink blanket draped over her lap and a small, square travel pillow behind her head.
“Your mother was very upset when she phoned,” says Rachel softly.
“She send you?” asks Puck.
“I came on my own accord. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” She catches his gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Are you?”
Puck’s grip on the steering wheel tightens.
-
They stop at an all-night diner just before they cross the city limits.
Securing a corner booth near the back, Puck barely even sits before he’s up and walking away, tossing a request to Finn to order him a stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee.
Rachel makes to follow, but Finn tugs her back before she can get to her feet. “He’s probably going to the restroom.” He draws back, eyes never leaving Puck’s form until he disappears around a corner and out of their sight. He releases Rachel’s wrist and taps his fingers nervously against the tabletop as he meets the girl’s worried gaze. “He’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Before Finn has a chance to answer, the waitress comes over. She’s elderly with gray hair and she eyes the two teens wearily before she juts her hip and asks for their order, pouring two cups of coffee and sliding a glass of ice water toward Rachel before taking her leave.
Rachel sighs. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She stares at the tabletop determinedly, eyebrows furrowing. “We could call his mother. Or my fathers. We could tell them where we are and stall until they get here and bring us back.”
“Do you really want to do that to him?” Finn asks.
“No, but-”
“You guys aren’t planning your escape, are you?” Puck slides into the booth next to Rachel, across from Finn. He eyes them both suspiciously when they refuse to meet his gaze. “I can still swing back and drop you two off, you know. Your folks probably wouldn’t even know you were gone if you go home now.”
Rachel frowns. “You wouldn’t stay back with us?”
“I’m not stopping, if that’s what you’re really asking.” Puck glowers at her. “Nobody asked you to come, the invitation was only extended to Finn.”
“I’m not backing out, I’m just unsure of you’re plans Noah. Where exactly are we going?”
“San Antonio.”
“Texas?” Rachel shrieks. “That’s at least twenty hours away!”
“Twenty three,” says Puck, chuckling into the coffee Finn pushes his way. “Though, even that’s probably not realistic since that‘s not accounting stopping for breaks and the fact we’re running through a few major cities so we’ll probably hit traffic.”
Rachel wordlessly opens and closes her mouth in shock.
“He went to Texas?” Finn asks suddenly, holding steady when Puck drops his playful grin to a scowl and slouches in his seat. “He been there this whole time?”
“Hell if I know.” Puck slams his cup down, the sudden rattling of the table causing Rachel to jump. “Fuck, I’m starving. Where the hell is our food?”
-
Finn steps between Puck and the driver’s side door and holds his hand out for the truck keys. “Let me drive for a while.” He holds his ground even when Puck lets out a deep guttural growl of protest. “You look like you haven’t slept, man. I have.”
“You don’t even know where the hell you’re going.”
“My phone has a GPS.” Rachel holds up the device feebly. “I’ve slept, Noah, I’m not tired. I can give Finn directions.” She lowers her phone and bites her bottom lip when he turns his gaze to her. “Please Noah, it’s unsafe for you to drive in your current state.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted,” Rachel argues.
“We’re going to Texas.” Puck looks between the two cautiously. “If I wake up and I’m back in Lima there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Texas,” repeats Finn, grabbing the keys before squeezing Puck’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s all right. Just sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
Puck shrugs him off and clambers into the backseat, stretching out a little before curling into himself and turning to face the seat back instead of the front where Finn and Rachel sit.
His silent snores fill the car just three minutes later.
-
Later, Rachel turns in her seat to check on Puck. She reaches out and runs a hand along his shoulders and frowns when she feels how tense they are.
Finn brings her hand back to the front and holds it for a moment.
“Finn…”
“It’s fine.” Finn lets go and looks between her and Puck. “I get it.”
Rachel bites her lip and says nothing, turning instead to stare out the window at the passing Ohio landscape.
-
“How did you know where to find him?”
“Pardon?”
“Puck,” Finn elaborates, “How did you know where he would be?” He looks over at her for a moment before he snaps his gaze back to the road, flipping on the windshield wipers when the first drops of rain start. “How did you know he would be at my house?”
“You’re his best friend, Finn,” Rachel tells him. “Where else would he have gone?”
-
Puck jolts up in his seat with a strangled gasp, chest heaving as his heart hammers hard.
“Noah?” Rachel turns in her seat. “Are you all right?”
Finn eyes him in the rear-view.
Swallowing thickly, Puck exhales a shaky breath and nods before he lies back down and squeezes his eyes shut.
-
“I hope it’s going all right,” Rachel says as she watches Finn’s dramatic movements as he talks on his cell phone a few feet away from the truck. He keeps tossing his arms in the air and, though she can’t make out exactly what he’s saying, by his raised voice, Rachel thinks he’s arguing. “I’m sure everything is fine,” Rachel says anyway, confidently. “Don’t you?”
Puck just stares out the window.
“Carol is a very understanding mother, after all. And she’s known you since you were little! I bet she’s just worried. I’m sure if I was in her shoes and I woke up in the middle of the night to find my teenaged son gone, no note or anything to tell me of his whereabouts, I would be a little upset too.” Rachel offers Puck a small smile. “It doesn’t help that Finn left his phone on vibrate and missed the first fifteen calls, of course, but that has nothing to do with you.”
Finn’s frustrated scream pierces the mid-morning air and Rachel visibly winces.
“It’s fine.” Her smile is tight and strained now as she stares out at Finn with wide eyes. “Everything is fine.”
Puck asks, “What about your dads?”
Rachel blinks, turning back around to see Puck’s gaze on her now. “What about my fathers?”
“What did they say when you left?” Puck elaborated. “Were they just thrilled you decided to jump on this pity wagon as well?”
Rachel frowns. “Noah…”
“They weren’t, were they? Can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t get it either. Who trusts a fucking former juvie like me? How do they know I’m not kidnapping you? They fucking don’t. I could leave you and Hudson on the side of the road and nobody would be surprised. Fuck, it’s probably what’s expected of me by half the town anyway.”
“That thought has never crossed my mind. Nor my fathers. And besides,” Rachel turns in her seat and squeezes his bicep, “I trust you, and that’s all that matters.”
“Whatever…”
Finn jumps back into the driver’s seat a few minutes later, shaking the rain from his hair like a wet dog.
“How’d it go?” Rachel asks, handing him a few paper napkins from the glove compartment.
“Sucked ass, obviously. Probably have to head back now, right?” Puck snorts before Finn can reply, “I told you she wouldn’t understand.”
“I made her,” Finn says, glaring back at Puck and ending that argument before it can even start. “Now sit back and buckle up, we lost some time by stopping for that, but we can make it up on the highway.”
Puck crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat, turning away to glare out the window.
-
“Do you want to talk about it, Noah?”
“No.”
-
“How long do you honestly plan on going for?” Finn asks when they stop at a Denny’s for lunch. He’s fiddling nervously with the little bit of paper that came off his straw. “I mean, be realistic, you can’t expect to make it there in one day.”
“The day has finally come!” announces Puck sarcastically, “Finn Hudson is advising me to be realistic.”
Finn flicks the paper straw wrapper at him, hitting him in the forehead.
“Stop,” demands Rachel, playing mediator as she glares a warning across the booth at Finn and then at Puck, who’s sitting next to her. She sips her water to calm her nerves, then takes a breath and clasps her hands in front of her. “Now, Noah,” she starts calmly, “Finn has a valid point. Though we began this little impromptu road trip rather early in the morning, it’s impractical to think we can make it there on the same day.”
Puck rolls his eyes. “Oh, jeezus… Do you really think I’m that stupid? Of course we’re not going to drive all day and night. We’re going to make it as far as we can today and stay somewhere later tonight. We’ll get there tomorrow.”
“I will not be staying at some seedy motel out in the middle of nowhere Noah Puckerman.”
“What the fuck do you take me for? A cheap ass? We’ll get to Tulsa tonight and find a hotel there.”
“Won’t that be expensive?” Finn asks, flipping through his wallet and counting the few dollar bills he has. “I mean, I barely brought enough money for food, I can’t spring for a hotel room. And when we get to San Antonio, well… I have an emergency credit card my mom gave me…” Finn shrugs.
“I have a debit card,” says Rachel. “And my father’s set me up with a saving’s account when I was very young, so it’s bound to have accumulated more than enough money to cover our expenses.”
“Re-fucking-lax. I’ve got us covered.”
“B-but…”
Puck glares at her. “Please. You really think I don’t know what your stupid saving’s account is? It’s your New York money. No way in hell am I letting you dip your cute, little hands into that pot of gold if you don‘t need to.” He turned next to Finn. “And don’t fucking even think about using that credit card. Your mom doesn’t need to be spending good dough on me.”
“Hotel, gas, food…” Finn blinks. “It’s going to be a lot of money, dude.”
“Yeah? Well, I got more than enough saved up too, you know.” Puck ticks everything off with his fingers, “Pool cleaning, Sheets n’ Things, the Hummel’s Tire Shop, that fast-food gig where I got fired, bagging groceries at the supermarket, delivering Chinese food… I’ve been working since I was twelve.”
“That’s your Getting out of Lima money, isn’t it?” asks Rachel.
“Look around,” says Puck, “We’re out of Lima.” He shakes his head. “Just fucking figures my worthless old man is the one that’s making me waste all this stupid money.” He glares, though not at anybody in particular. “What the fuck ever, though, right?”
“Right,” nods Finn, giving Rachel a pointed look.
Rachel frowns. “Right.”
-
“There’s a rest area in in two miles,” announces Rachel, bouncing in her seat. “Pull over so I can use the ladies room.”
“Smallest fucking bladder ever,” sneers Puck, flipping the signal to turn off. “This is the fifth time we’ve stopped in the past two hours.”
“I drink a lot of water.”
“Whatever. Just make it fast. We’re burning daylight waiting on your ass.”
Rachel hops out of the car and runs toward the restroom, pulling her hoody over head to shield the rain.
Finn kicks the back of Puck’s seat hard. “Go easy on her. She hasn’t done anything but put up with your sorry ass.”
“Yeah? We’ll I never asked her to do that, did I?”
“All the more reason to be nicer.”
Rachel climbs back in a couple of minutes later, shivering as she attempts to wring the rain water out of her hair and clothes.
Puck eyes her. “Cold?’
“No,” Rachel lies, shaking, “I’m fine.”
Puck sighs and pulls off his letterman jacket and shoves it at her before he turns up the heat and points all the little vents in the truck at her. “There’s a towel in the back and an extra jacket if you want it too,” he says, indicating said-items with a jerk of his thumb. “They’re clean, I promise.” Finn hands them to her and Puck asks, once she’s transferred clothes, “You good?”
Snuggling into his letterman, Rachel nods and smiles warmly. “Thank you Noah.”
Puck nods, ignoring the look Finn shoots him. “Whatever.”
-
“I thought it was from my aunt.”
Rachel blinks, turning to Puck. “I’m sorry?”
“My aunt. She moves around a lot. Drives an RV. Never stays in the same place.” Puck’s hand tightens on the steering wheel as he continues to stare determinedly out the front window. “She sends letters and we text a lot. She’s cool.”
Rachel turns in her seat to look at Finn for guidance, but Finn, leaning forward with his hands clutched on the knees of his jeans, is busy staring intently at the back of his best friend’s head.
“My sister was bugging me because she needed scissors and I was looking because I just wanted her to shut up. I was going through the junk drawer in our kitchen. It was a postcard, had an armadillo and a tumbleweed on it with that stupid ‘Greetings from Texas!’ stamp, and…” Puck swallows thickly and repeats, “I thought it was from my aunt.”
Rachel grabs his free hand, squeezing.
Puck shakes his head, ignoring her. “It didn’t say much. He wrote big so maybe he just didn’t have enough room…” His brows furrow and draw in tight as he glares, trying to remember. “It just said he was sorry and that he was dying and… H-He wants to make amends.” A snort of laughter. “Can you believe that? I mean, seriously, can you fucking believe that? I just…”
“Noah…”
But Puck says no more. He just sucks in breath after breath, his body trembling with the effort.
“Next exit has a gas station,” Finn tells him after a minute. “We’re almost empty. Pull over so we can fill up.”
Finn jumps out before the truck even comes to a complete stop at the pump. He swipes the debit card and sticks in the nozzle and replaces it when it’s done. After, he wordlessly takes the keys from Puck’s shaky grip and nudges his friend into the backseat before climbing behind the wheel.
“Finn…”
“Don’t.”
Finn turns up the radio and tries not to eye his best friend curled up in the back seat, shoulders still trembling as muffled sniffles fill the tense air.
-
Rachel asks, when Puck falls asleep, “How old was Noah when his father left?”
“Almost six,” answers Finn. “It was three days before his sixth birthday.” Finn frowns, brows furrowed in thought as he remembers. “He climbed through my window that night too, you know. I’ll never forget that.”
“It was bad?”
Finn’s mouth thins into a tight line as he jerks a nod.
-
He wakes to Rachel gently shaking his shoulder, calling his name softly. He yawns and pushes himself into a sitting position before rubbing his eyes, wincing at the dryness. Blinking to adjust to the city lights bouncing into the car, Puck watches the passing scenery for a moment before turning his attention back to the front where Rachel is still turned in her seat and watching him.
“We’re in Tulsa,” Finn tells him.
“What time is it?”
“Late. You were only out for a few hours.”
Puck frowns, remembering.
“It stopped raining,” says Rachel needlessly. He says nothing to that, so Rachel takes her bottom lip between her teeth and chews it thoughtfully before she looks back at him and, hesitantly, asks, “We’re still stopping, right?”
Finn catches his eye in the rear-view and Puck sighs, nods, and sags back into his seat.
“Yeah… Yeah, that’s enough for today.”
Rating: M, for language
Characters: Puck, Rachel, Finn
Spoiler(s): Up to current aired US episodes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I get nothing. Please don't sue.
Summary: Three friends. A road trip. And a dying father.
This story is based on a prompt (of the same name) from the glee_angst_meme that I can no longer find the URL to. If anybody can help me locate this prompt, I would be extremely grateful. Thanks!
At two o’clock in the morning, something falls through the window and hits the floor with a pained grunt. Finn starts violently at the noise, fumbling with his bedspread until his legs tangle in the sheets and send him sprawling to the floor. His heart hammers hard in his chest as he pushes to his knees and turns to blink incredulously at the sudden appearance of his best friend.
“Puck? What are you doing here?”
“Lower your voice! Fuck. You want to wake up the whole damn house?”
“No, but-”
“Shut up! No time. Get your shit. We’re going on a road trip.”
“What?” Finn scrubs furiously at his sleep-crusted eyes. “Why? What’s going on?”
Puck’s jaw ticks and he shoves to his feet. He grabs Finn’s gym bag and unceremoniously dumps dirty football gear onto the ground before he starts to rifle through the dresser and, grabbing blindly, begins stuffing clean clothes into it.
Finn jumps, startled. “What the hell are you doing?” He reaches out to grab hold of Puck’s shoulder, but the teen tenses and pushes away before contact can be made. Finn stops, retracting his hand. “Puck?” Puck stops too, back to Finn, whole body trembling. “You’re freaking me out. What happened?”
“My father is dying.”
“What?”
Puck doesn’t repeat himself though, just turns and shoves the bag at Finn and shoulders past him toward the window. He stands there a moment, looks out into the night sky, and nods. He inhales a shaky breath and hefts himself up and over and starts to climb down without another word.
Finn looks between the half-empty pack in his hand and the window to his left and swallows thickly. He shoves a few more articles of clothing into his bag and tugs on a pair of jeans and some shoes and pulls on a red Titans hoody before he follows his friend, scaling down the trellis and jumping the final few feet before straightening and brushing the dirt off himself. He looks back up at the darkened bedroom window where his mom and Burt reside and gnaws his bottom lip worriedly.
“You want to leave a note?” asks Puck, drawing Finn from his thoughts. “Let them know you’ll be with me?”
“I’ll call in the morning,” says Finn. “It’ll be fine.”
Puck shakes his head, turns, and stops.
“What the fuck?”
Rachel jumps off the tailgate of his truck and crosses her arms over her chest determinedly, bag at her feet.
-
Puck drives, Finn calls shotgun, and Rachel sits behind the two in the middle with a plush, pink blanket draped over her lap and a small, square travel pillow behind her head.
“Your mother was very upset when she phoned,” says Rachel softly.
“She send you?” asks Puck.
“I came on my own accord. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” She catches his gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Are you?”
Puck’s grip on the steering wheel tightens.
-
They stop at an all-night diner just before they cross the city limits.
Securing a corner booth near the back, Puck barely even sits before he’s up and walking away, tossing a request to Finn to order him a stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee.
Rachel makes to follow, but Finn tugs her back before she can get to her feet. “He’s probably going to the restroom.” He draws back, eyes never leaving Puck’s form until he disappears around a corner and out of their sight. He releases Rachel’s wrist and taps his fingers nervously against the tabletop as he meets the girl’s worried gaze. “He’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
Before Finn has a chance to answer, the waitress comes over. She’s elderly with gray hair and she eyes the two teens wearily before she juts her hip and asks for their order, pouring two cups of coffee and sliding a glass of ice water toward Rachel before taking her leave.
Rachel sighs. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She stares at the tabletop determinedly, eyebrows furrowing. “We could call his mother. Or my fathers. We could tell them where we are and stall until they get here and bring us back.”
“Do you really want to do that to him?” Finn asks.
“No, but-”
“You guys aren’t planning your escape, are you?” Puck slides into the booth next to Rachel, across from Finn. He eyes them both suspiciously when they refuse to meet his gaze. “I can still swing back and drop you two off, you know. Your folks probably wouldn’t even know you were gone if you go home now.”
Rachel frowns. “You wouldn’t stay back with us?”
“I’m not stopping, if that’s what you’re really asking.” Puck glowers at her. “Nobody asked you to come, the invitation was only extended to Finn.”
“I’m not backing out, I’m just unsure of you’re plans Noah. Where exactly are we going?”
“San Antonio.”
“Texas?” Rachel shrieks. “That’s at least twenty hours away!”
“Twenty three,” says Puck, chuckling into the coffee Finn pushes his way. “Though, even that’s probably not realistic since that‘s not accounting stopping for breaks and the fact we’re running through a few major cities so we’ll probably hit traffic.”
Rachel wordlessly opens and closes her mouth in shock.
“He went to Texas?” Finn asks suddenly, holding steady when Puck drops his playful grin to a scowl and slouches in his seat. “He been there this whole time?”
“Hell if I know.” Puck slams his cup down, the sudden rattling of the table causing Rachel to jump. “Fuck, I’m starving. Where the hell is our food?”
-
Finn steps between Puck and the driver’s side door and holds his hand out for the truck keys. “Let me drive for a while.” He holds his ground even when Puck lets out a deep guttural growl of protest. “You look like you haven’t slept, man. I have.”
“You don’t even know where the hell you’re going.”
“My phone has a GPS.” Rachel holds up the device feebly. “I’ve slept, Noah, I’m not tired. I can give Finn directions.” She lowers her phone and bites her bottom lip when he turns his gaze to her. “Please Noah, it’s unsafe for you to drive in your current state.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted,” Rachel argues.
“We’re going to Texas.” Puck looks between the two cautiously. “If I wake up and I’m back in Lima there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Texas,” repeats Finn, grabbing the keys before squeezing Puck’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s all right. Just sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
Puck shrugs him off and clambers into the backseat, stretching out a little before curling into himself and turning to face the seat back instead of the front where Finn and Rachel sit.
His silent snores fill the car just three minutes later.
-
Later, Rachel turns in her seat to check on Puck. She reaches out and runs a hand along his shoulders and frowns when she feels how tense they are.
Finn brings her hand back to the front and holds it for a moment.
“Finn…”
“It’s fine.” Finn lets go and looks between her and Puck. “I get it.”
Rachel bites her lip and says nothing, turning instead to stare out the window at the passing Ohio landscape.
-
“How did you know where to find him?”
“Pardon?”
“Puck,” Finn elaborates, “How did you know where he would be?” He looks over at her for a moment before he snaps his gaze back to the road, flipping on the windshield wipers when the first drops of rain start. “How did you know he would be at my house?”
“You’re his best friend, Finn,” Rachel tells him. “Where else would he have gone?”
-
Puck jolts up in his seat with a strangled gasp, chest heaving as his heart hammers hard.
“Noah?” Rachel turns in her seat. “Are you all right?”
Finn eyes him in the rear-view.
Swallowing thickly, Puck exhales a shaky breath and nods before he lies back down and squeezes his eyes shut.
-
“I hope it’s going all right,” Rachel says as she watches Finn’s dramatic movements as he talks on his cell phone a few feet away from the truck. He keeps tossing his arms in the air and, though she can’t make out exactly what he’s saying, by his raised voice, Rachel thinks he’s arguing. “I’m sure everything is fine,” Rachel says anyway, confidently. “Don’t you?”
Puck just stares out the window.
“Carol is a very understanding mother, after all. And she’s known you since you were little! I bet she’s just worried. I’m sure if I was in her shoes and I woke up in the middle of the night to find my teenaged son gone, no note or anything to tell me of his whereabouts, I would be a little upset too.” Rachel offers Puck a small smile. “It doesn’t help that Finn left his phone on vibrate and missed the first fifteen calls, of course, but that has nothing to do with you.”
Finn’s frustrated scream pierces the mid-morning air and Rachel visibly winces.
“It’s fine.” Her smile is tight and strained now as she stares out at Finn with wide eyes. “Everything is fine.”
Puck asks, “What about your dads?”
Rachel blinks, turning back around to see Puck’s gaze on her now. “What about my fathers?”
“What did they say when you left?” Puck elaborated. “Were they just thrilled you decided to jump on this pity wagon as well?”
Rachel frowns. “Noah…”
“They weren’t, were they? Can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t get it either. Who trusts a fucking former juvie like me? How do they know I’m not kidnapping you? They fucking don’t. I could leave you and Hudson on the side of the road and nobody would be surprised. Fuck, it’s probably what’s expected of me by half the town anyway.”
“That thought has never crossed my mind. Nor my fathers. And besides,” Rachel turns in her seat and squeezes his bicep, “I trust you, and that’s all that matters.”
“Whatever…”
Finn jumps back into the driver’s seat a few minutes later, shaking the rain from his hair like a wet dog.
“How’d it go?” Rachel asks, handing him a few paper napkins from the glove compartment.
“Sucked ass, obviously. Probably have to head back now, right?” Puck snorts before Finn can reply, “I told you she wouldn’t understand.”
“I made her,” Finn says, glaring back at Puck and ending that argument before it can even start. “Now sit back and buckle up, we lost some time by stopping for that, but we can make it up on the highway.”
Puck crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat, turning away to glare out the window.
-
“Do you want to talk about it, Noah?”
“No.”
-
“How long do you honestly plan on going for?” Finn asks when they stop at a Denny’s for lunch. He’s fiddling nervously with the little bit of paper that came off his straw. “I mean, be realistic, you can’t expect to make it there in one day.”
“The day has finally come!” announces Puck sarcastically, “Finn Hudson is advising me to be realistic.”
Finn flicks the paper straw wrapper at him, hitting him in the forehead.
“Stop,” demands Rachel, playing mediator as she glares a warning across the booth at Finn and then at Puck, who’s sitting next to her. She sips her water to calm her nerves, then takes a breath and clasps her hands in front of her. “Now, Noah,” she starts calmly, “Finn has a valid point. Though we began this little impromptu road trip rather early in the morning, it’s impractical to think we can make it there on the same day.”
Puck rolls his eyes. “Oh, jeezus… Do you really think I’m that stupid? Of course we’re not going to drive all day and night. We’re going to make it as far as we can today and stay somewhere later tonight. We’ll get there tomorrow.”
“I will not be staying at some seedy motel out in the middle of nowhere Noah Puckerman.”
“What the fuck do you take me for? A cheap ass? We’ll get to Tulsa tonight and find a hotel there.”
“Won’t that be expensive?” Finn asks, flipping through his wallet and counting the few dollar bills he has. “I mean, I barely brought enough money for food, I can’t spring for a hotel room. And when we get to San Antonio, well… I have an emergency credit card my mom gave me…” Finn shrugs.
“I have a debit card,” says Rachel. “And my father’s set me up with a saving’s account when I was very young, so it’s bound to have accumulated more than enough money to cover our expenses.”
“Re-fucking-lax. I’ve got us covered.”
“B-but…”
Puck glares at her. “Please. You really think I don’t know what your stupid saving’s account is? It’s your New York money. No way in hell am I letting you dip your cute, little hands into that pot of gold if you don‘t need to.” He turned next to Finn. “And don’t fucking even think about using that credit card. Your mom doesn’t need to be spending good dough on me.”
“Hotel, gas, food…” Finn blinks. “It’s going to be a lot of money, dude.”
“Yeah? Well, I got more than enough saved up too, you know.” Puck ticks everything off with his fingers, “Pool cleaning, Sheets n’ Things, the Hummel’s Tire Shop, that fast-food gig where I got fired, bagging groceries at the supermarket, delivering Chinese food… I’ve been working since I was twelve.”
“That’s your Getting out of Lima money, isn’t it?” asks Rachel.
“Look around,” says Puck, “We’re out of Lima.” He shakes his head. “Just fucking figures my worthless old man is the one that’s making me waste all this stupid money.” He glares, though not at anybody in particular. “What the fuck ever, though, right?”
“Right,” nods Finn, giving Rachel a pointed look.
Rachel frowns. “Right.”
-
“There’s a rest area in in two miles,” announces Rachel, bouncing in her seat. “Pull over so I can use the ladies room.”
“Smallest fucking bladder ever,” sneers Puck, flipping the signal to turn off. “This is the fifth time we’ve stopped in the past two hours.”
“I drink a lot of water.”
“Whatever. Just make it fast. We’re burning daylight waiting on your ass.”
Rachel hops out of the car and runs toward the restroom, pulling her hoody over head to shield the rain.
Finn kicks the back of Puck’s seat hard. “Go easy on her. She hasn’t done anything but put up with your sorry ass.”
“Yeah? We’ll I never asked her to do that, did I?”
“All the more reason to be nicer.”
Rachel climbs back in a couple of minutes later, shivering as she attempts to wring the rain water out of her hair and clothes.
Puck eyes her. “Cold?’
“No,” Rachel lies, shaking, “I’m fine.”
Puck sighs and pulls off his letterman jacket and shoves it at her before he turns up the heat and points all the little vents in the truck at her. “There’s a towel in the back and an extra jacket if you want it too,” he says, indicating said-items with a jerk of his thumb. “They’re clean, I promise.” Finn hands them to her and Puck asks, once she’s transferred clothes, “You good?”
Snuggling into his letterman, Rachel nods and smiles warmly. “Thank you Noah.”
Puck nods, ignoring the look Finn shoots him. “Whatever.”
-
“I thought it was from my aunt.”
Rachel blinks, turning to Puck. “I’m sorry?”
“My aunt. She moves around a lot. Drives an RV. Never stays in the same place.” Puck’s hand tightens on the steering wheel as he continues to stare determinedly out the front window. “She sends letters and we text a lot. She’s cool.”
Rachel turns in her seat to look at Finn for guidance, but Finn, leaning forward with his hands clutched on the knees of his jeans, is busy staring intently at the back of his best friend’s head.
“My sister was bugging me because she needed scissors and I was looking because I just wanted her to shut up. I was going through the junk drawer in our kitchen. It was a postcard, had an armadillo and a tumbleweed on it with that stupid ‘Greetings from Texas!’ stamp, and…” Puck swallows thickly and repeats, “I thought it was from my aunt.”
Rachel grabs his free hand, squeezing.
Puck shakes his head, ignoring her. “It didn’t say much. He wrote big so maybe he just didn’t have enough room…” His brows furrow and draw in tight as he glares, trying to remember. “It just said he was sorry and that he was dying and… H-He wants to make amends.” A snort of laughter. “Can you believe that? I mean, seriously, can you fucking believe that? I just…”
“Noah…”
But Puck says no more. He just sucks in breath after breath, his body trembling with the effort.
“Next exit has a gas station,” Finn tells him after a minute. “We’re almost empty. Pull over so we can fill up.”
Finn jumps out before the truck even comes to a complete stop at the pump. He swipes the debit card and sticks in the nozzle and replaces it when it’s done. After, he wordlessly takes the keys from Puck’s shaky grip and nudges his friend into the backseat before climbing behind the wheel.
“Finn…”
“Don’t.”
Finn turns up the radio and tries not to eye his best friend curled up in the back seat, shoulders still trembling as muffled sniffles fill the tense air.
-
Rachel asks, when Puck falls asleep, “How old was Noah when his father left?”
“Almost six,” answers Finn. “It was three days before his sixth birthday.” Finn frowns, brows furrowed in thought as he remembers. “He climbed through my window that night too, you know. I’ll never forget that.”
“It was bad?”
Finn’s mouth thins into a tight line as he jerks a nod.
-
He wakes to Rachel gently shaking his shoulder, calling his name softly. He yawns and pushes himself into a sitting position before rubbing his eyes, wincing at the dryness. Blinking to adjust to the city lights bouncing into the car, Puck watches the passing scenery for a moment before turning his attention back to the front where Rachel is still turned in her seat and watching him.
“We’re in Tulsa,” Finn tells him.
“What time is it?”
“Late. You were only out for a few hours.”
Puck frowns, remembering.
“It stopped raining,” says Rachel needlessly. He says nothing to that, so Rachel takes her bottom lip between her teeth and chews it thoughtfully before she looks back at him and, hesitantly, asks, “We’re still stopping, right?”
Finn catches his eye in the rear-view and Puck sighs, nods, and sags back into his seat.
“Yeah… Yeah, that’s enough for today.”