Let It Come Down 2/6
Title: Let It Come Down
Chapter: 2/6
Rating: R
Character: Puck/Rachel
Summary: She doesn't mean to linger, but it happens because he seems relaxed and less tense than he has since she saw him yesterday, and if that's the case and her little peck on the cheek has something to do with it, she wants him to be able to feel it as long as possible.
Word Count: 6,900
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Quinn has dinner waiting when he gets home, and the television is on and playing some ridiculous soap opera she always pretends she's got no interest in. She's in the kitchen in one of his hoodies and a pair of her own jeans, hair piled on top of her head.
"Hey," he says. He doesn't want to get his hopes up and assume she's in a good place right now, so he keeps his smile at bay and watches her turn to him.
She's got no makeup on and his sweater is huge on her and he can see that she's not wearing a bra. She's fucking beautiful.
"Hi."
He smiles a bit and heads towards her.
She turns her head when he goes in for a kiss and his lips land on her cheek. They both pretend it never happened and sit down to eat at their kitchen table for the first time in weeks. He tells her about the trip and she tells stories from work and suggests he shower while she cleans up the kitchen.
He passes Beth's room on the way to the bedroom. He knows he's an asshole for wishing he was still living in that hotel room.
Quinn hands him a beer when he's back in the living room, then tells him she's going to bed early and he hears the bedroom door close as he switches channels and tries to find something halfway decent to watch.
He wakes up on the couch with a blanket over him and a note on the coffee table telling him not to forget they're going to her mom's for dinner. She's never left him sleeping on the couch before. And apparently she's not having too much trouble sleeping without him anymore.
... ... ...
Rachel takes a much needed (and in her opinion well deserved) break from work and cleans her entire house. She had a housekeeper come every couple weeks while she was away, just to keep the dust from settling on her things, but she gives the whole place a thorough cleaning, scrubs her kitchen until it gleams. She prepares a casserole for herself for dinner and sets the oven timer, then has a short nap on the sofa.
People assume her life is excessively glamourous. She just spent the day in rubber gloves and has yet to shower. Clearly people don't know what they're talking about.
But one of her friends calls her and asks if she wants to go out to this piano bar they love that serves the best Purple Haze martinis she's ever come across, so she cleans herself up and slips into a black dress and heels. She sits with her friends and listens to the evening's entertainment and pretends she cares about Schuyler's stories about the new guy she's seeing. She gets drunk right around the fourth Billy Joel song the pianist plays and lets her friends talk her into singing. She belts out a Journey song she may have performed once or twice before, brings the house down and drops a $50 on the table to pay for her drinks. She announces she's leaving and her friends weakly try to get her to stay, but she pours herself into a cab before she can do something really stupid like talk to the guy in the corner who's been eyeing her all night.
She's scrolling idly through her phone as the driver takes her home. It's too late to call anyone and she's not drunk enough to do it anyway. She types out a text to Finn, then erases it, and her thumb hovers over the talk button when she gets to Noah's name, but she drops her phone back into her bag before she can do anything stupid like call and have his wife answer or something.
... ... ...
He comes home from work to a quiet house, which is really weird, since Quinn's been practically afraid of the silence since Beth. There's always been a television on or something, unless she was sleeping. Even then, there were nights she'd wake up in a panic because it was too quiet and it freaked her out. Her car is in the driveway, so he knows she's home. He drops his things by the door like usual, shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up so she won't tear him a new one, and calls for her.
Her voice comes from down the hall, so he thinks she's in their room until he walks a little closer and sees Beth's bedroom door open. The room's been closed off since after they got the call. He doesn't even know who did it, because he didn't and he knows Quinn didn't, either. It was probably his mom. He should thank her.
Quinn is standing by the bed with her knees against the mattress, folding things up and putting them into a box. The closet is missing a chunk of stuff and Puck is fucking livid.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
She doesn't even turn around to face him. "I'm going through her things."
"Stop," he commands. He can't seem to make his feet walk into the room.
"Puck, it's been over a month," she reminds him.
"You think I don't know that?" he yells. She flinches slightly, which makes him feel a little better because it proves she's not a fucking soulless bitch or whatever. "Quinn, stop."
"No!" She turns around and one of Beth's sweaters falls onto the floor. He walks over and picks it up, holds it in his hand just so Quinn can't put it into that box. "I can't just keep walking past this room," she confesses quietly. He sighs and watches her face, watches her look anywhere but at him. "I can't...I can't."
He puts his arms around her the second she starts crying. He's surprised, for a moment, that she's actually letting him do it. It's been hit or miss. Some days she'll just curl up against him and cry and some days she'll curse him out and slam the bedroom door so it's separating them. He's trying to be pissed off with her right now for doing this shit without at least mentioning it to him first, but she's actually allowing him to comfort her, so he can't be too angry.
He looks around the room as much as he can with his wife in his arms. Beth loved purple, so the walls are a light violet with butterfly decals all over, because she loved those, too. Her favourite stuffed animals are sitting on her pillows and the rest are on the shelves on the west wall above her dresser. There's a little tray there, just like Quinn has, and there are a few bottles of nailpolish there, some cheap little makeup she never did wear, and a tube of lip gloss Puck always insisted she was too young for. She was 11 going on 18 and he wanted to keep her young.
Now he'd settle for just keeping her.
He hasn't cried since the day they called him and told him about the accident. When he feels his eyes stinging and the lump in his throat, he lets go of Quinn and walks away, heads to their room and closes the door. She won't care if he cries - even she's not that much of a bitch - but he just can't handle any of this right now.
He calls Finn and they go out, and Finn drives so Puck can get drunker than he has in years. Finn doesn't ask questions and Puck doesn't offer up information. He sleeps on the couch again because even when he's drunk off his ass he's considerate enough not to want to wake his wife when he stumbles into bed.
... ... ...
Her first day of casting is a complete disaster. Two of the prospects she called personally to invite are no shows and one who's up for the male lead can barely fit his head through the door, his ego is so big. She cuts him down a peg pretty quickly when she points out (to a roomful of people) that his last show was canned after two weeks due to poor ticket sales. Normally she wouldn't be so bitchy, but she's in a mood.
Robert is still upset with her and therefore acting like a child with an apparent need to argue and contradict everything she says. Towards the end of the day, they aren't even close to having a solid list of callbacks, and she can see that her producers' patience is wearing thin. Luckily, some incredible performers turn up in the last hour, one of whom Rachel remembers from her days in New York. The girl is a couple years younger than Rachel and got passed over frequently because she doesn't have traditional dancers' feet. This show's focus is more on the music with very little actual dancing. This girl has an incredible voice. In fact, it used to make Rachel nervous. Robert casts a glance Rachel's way at one point during Ally's solo as if to ask where this girl came from. Her name goes to the top of the list and the producers are happy.
The day wasn't a complete wash, but it still sort of feels like one.
She talks to Ally after, asks what she's doing in Cleveland, and Ally smiles shyly and says she heard Rachel was heading up a new production, so she drove out to audition. That kind of dedication means more to Rachel than she wants to admit at the moment. She ends up taking Ally to dinner and the two catch up. Apparently Rachel's ex, Navan, is dating this young Hollywood starlet everyone hates. The girl is barely legal and has only a few terrible movie credits to her name, but her father is famous and she's popular by default. Rachel doesn't care; she and Navan dated for about five months four years ago. She's over it.
She and Ally go their separate ways and Rachel heads home, singing along with the radio as she drives. She sinks into a warm bath with bubbles and candles and some quiet music and sits until the water turns lukewarm. She slides into bed and switches off the light, falls asleep easily and wakes up around 1:30 when her phone vibrates on the bedside table.
Noah.
She blinks away sleep and his name is still there when she can actually see clearly. She lets it ring and ring, doesn't answer and eventually the buzzing stops.
Honestly, the only reason she didn't pick up is because she can't possibly think of anything good he'd have to say in the middle of the night. (Anything safe.)
... ... ...
He's on his way into his office building and looking through his phone when he sees her number and it floods back to him. Last night, the bathroom at the bar, him dialing her number just before last call because he wanted to hear her voice. No, even sober he's not going to deny that what he wanted was the sound of her voice in his ear. He doesn't even care what she says, and it's not until he's in his office that he realizes that he's using present tense and even in the light of day without his blood pumping whiskey through his system, he wants to talk to her.
So he calls her, because he's not a pussy and she's an old friend and there's nothing wrong with this. He's not doing anything wrong.
The second she says hello, he feels different. Not better or worse, really. Just different.
"Hey. Look, I think I pocket dialed you last night," he says. Then immediately he realizes how fucking lame it is to not just own up to it. He's not that guy. "And by that, I mean I was drunk and called you on purpose."
She giggles and it makes him smile and sit back in his chair. "Sorry I didn't answer."
"No, it was fucking late," he laughs. "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. I was actually thinking of calling and making sure everything was okay. You know, you get a call in the middle of the night, and...Well, I worry, Noah."
He chuckles a little bitterly. "Yeah, I think the worst has already happened, Rachel."
There's silence on the line for a beat, then she exhales. "This is going to sound terrible, but I sincerely hope so," she says quietly, like she's bracing herself for his reaction.
In a fucked up way, it's practically the best thing she could have said.
... ... ...
Someone asks her what she's smiling about and she says it's nothing, because it can't be something. It can't be anything more than her friend making her laugh. She doesn't even know if she's allowed to call him that, really. They had one dinner and one phone conversation. She's not so desperate for friends that she'll just give anyone the title, but she thinks he's probably deserving, if for no other reason than she's known him forever. She remembers watching him turn his nose up when his baby sister needed to be changed, then years later, she watched him change Beth's diapers like it was second nature.
A week later when he calls to let her know he's coming to Cleveland for work again, she tries to keep telling herself it's nothing, but she was pretty quick to make dinner plans with him again and she spends half an afternoon thinking about what she's going to wear instead of focusing on work.
... ... ...
He doesn't need to take this trip and he doesn't need to extend it to three days. He can drop in on shops any time he wants to, though, and there's always work to do in the city.
And he needs to get the fuck out of his house.
Quinn's still practically shutting him out of everything she does. She's inching her way towards better, he thinks. Some days she's fine and others she looks two seconds from a breakdown. She stayed home from work two days ago and forgot to turn the water off in the kitchen yesterday after filling a glass of water.
There's a box of a bunch of Beth's stuff sitting in the garage. It's all old stuff - clothes that wouldn't fit her, shoes with the toes scuffed almost right through, toys she hasn't played with in years. He thinks Quinn meant to take it to Goodwill and just forgot. Or maybe not. Either way, for the last week it's been sitting in the garage on the shelf right in front of where he parks his car and to be honest, he's really fucking happy to not have to see that box every goddamn morning and night.
When he tells Quinn he's leaving, she comes to the door in her work clothes, smiles and tells him to drive save, gives him a peck on the lips and asks him to call her when he gets there.
It's basically the most affectionate she's been to him in over a month. He feels like he can breathe again once he's in the car and heading out of town. How fucked is that?
Rachel's waiting for him outside the restaurant. She suggested this little Mexican place that apparently has the best enchiladas in the whole state or something. He's totally game for that. And tequila. He'll have one and drive her home if she needs it. His hotel is on the other side of the city, so he can't get drunk. It's probably a good thing.
She's in jeans and a loose-fitting plaid shirt with the top few buttons undone. He's pretty sure all she's wearing underneath is a bra, and if his calculations are correct, if she leans forward at all, he'll have confirmation.
She orders them a pitcher of sangria.
Fuck.
"Hey, you know I can't drink with you, right?" he asks as she pours. He laughs a little when she shrugs her shoulder. "I've gotta make sure you get home safe."
"More for me."
He shakes his head, but taps his glass against hers when she holds it up. They talk about her show and his work and basically all the same old shit they talked about last time. He wants to hear more. He doesn't know what else she has, to be honest, 'cause she seems like kind of a workaholic. Obviously he's not going to ask if she actually has a life or anything.
"You got a boyfriend?"
She laughs out loud, shakes her head. "Obviously not."
"Why would that be obvious?" he asks, confused.
She tilts her head. "I'm a 28 year old failed performer who's married to her work. I live in a house I don't pay a mortgage on and drive a car I've actually seen men drool over. I'm intimidating."
"Well, yeah." She rolls her eyes. "You forgot gorgeous." Her eyes lock with his across the table. "I'm allowed to say it."
She brushes past it without much acknowledgment at all. "Didn't we cover my love life last time?" she asks. He shakes his head. "No?"
"Nope. You avoided it."
"Oh," she says laughingly. "So you thought we were caught up enough by now to bring it up?" He shrugs his shoulder. "There's just really nothing to tell."
He doesn't believe that for a second. He lets her think he does, though, then their food comes and she asks him more about the store and says she'll have to go and check it out some day. Apparently she's been looking for a Cardinals jersey (and yeah, he's on her ass about that, because why the fuck is she cheering for the Cards?).
She forces him to split a deep fried ice cream with her even though he's never really been into dessert or anything. She's a little tipsy and a lot adorable and she pushes his spoon away when he's about to go for a section of the dessert she apparently wants.
The waitress sets the bill down in front of him, and he realizes this really does look like a date.
Rachel snags the bill and turns her body so he can't take it back, claims, "You got it last time. I'll pay this time," and he just concedes because he knows she's not going to let him get away with arguing too much.
They talk about Finn, of all things, on the drive from the restaurant to her place. They trade stories and she ends up laughing about some of the ones she hasn't heard yet. She explains that she keeps in touch with the guy, even if she hasn't seen him in a long time, and she's just waiting for the day he tells her he's seeing someone. He asks her why the hell that'd be a big deal and she snidely says, "Not everyone marries their first love, Noah," and then gets quiet, apologizes a minute and a half later for being a 'bitch'.
He doesn't know what just happened.
She hugs him awkwardly in the car when he's pulled into her drive.
"One day you're going to have to talk to me, you know," she says. He doesn't know what the hell she means by that. Her hands slide over his shoulders as she leans back into her own seat, watches his face. "Maybe...I don't know. But if you ever want to talk, Noah, about anything...I just hope you know you can talk to me."
He doesn't get why she's all serious all of a sudden, but he nods. "Okay."
"Promise?" she asks, eyes pleading. He knows this look from her.
"Yeah. Okay."
... ... ...
She takes a day to do absolutely nothing. That's not entirely true. She does things. She calls all her callbacks (she hated when directors had their assistants do that job) and starts thinking about an open call and where to advertise it. She really didn't want to have to go that route, but she knows she's going to have positions to fill, and really, you never know who you're going to find.
By 1:30 she's bored, so she texts Noah to ask how his day is going. When he responds that it's slow and he's losing patience, she suggests they meet for coffee.
She shouldn't, but she does. She's got nothing to do and he's in town and she wants some way to pass the time. There's no reason they can't do something together.
She meets him at the Starbucks near the store he's just finished visiting and allows him to buy her a latté, even though he playfully teases her about the cost of it. It's not like she's not used to the teasing comments, especially from him.
They walk through the neighbourhood because the weather is nice and he says he needs air and to not be around too many people. The street is relatively quiet and they're able to talk. He opens up a little more about his work and what exactly it is that he does, because honestly, up until now she's been confused. He sounds really important and very successful, and he laughs when she says so. He tells her Quinn's the impressive one, but doesn't elaborate any more on that, and she doesn't ask.
She knows it's late enough in the afternoon for school to be out, but she still checks the time on her phone when she sees a young man walking with his daughter. He's coming straight towards them and she glances at Noah from the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. It's basically nothing. He just looks straight ahead and sips his drink.
"Noah," she says quietly after the man passes them and calls his daughter 'sweetheart'.
"Can you not?" he asks. He's not being rude, she knows. He sounds quiet, sad, and she hates that. She accidentally slides her hand down from his elbow and curls her fingers around his palm. "Rachel."
"You can talk to me," she says a little desperately, tugging at his hand before letting it go. She doesn't think he's talked to anyone.
"Okay," he says, eyes on hers.
"No," she laughs quietly. "I mean right now."
He sighs like he really doesn't want to, but puts his hand on her back and steers her towards a bench on the sidewalk. It's covered in graffiti and has peoples' names and initials carved into it, which bothers her, for some reason. It's a silly thing to think right now.
He doesn't end up talking about much. She doesn't push it any more than she already has.
She sits with her body angled towards his as he talks about his daughter, tells stories about her growing up, all the important things Rachel missed. She looks away from him at one point to hide the tears in her eyes.
It doesn't matter how young and sometimes stupid he was when Beth was born. Rachel's known that since she first saw him holding his daughter. He may not have had all the answers, but his willingness to stumble through it and do his best made him an amazing father. She can tell Beth loved him, just from the stories he tells, like the time they went to Six Flags and Beth squeezed his hand on all the rides or when he begrudgingly took her to a pop concert and she smiled for three days.
Rachel laughs at all the right times, but she's still sort of wondering if her fathers still love her as much as they used to. It's a stupid thing to even consider, because they're her fathers and obviously they do. They may only talk once or twice a week and get together about as many times every few months, but she knows they love and support her unconditionally.
"You love her so much," she says, almost in awe of it as she sets her hand on his shoulder. He looks down to his lap and takes a breath. "You're amazing."
She whispers it and holds her breath for his response. She doesn't get one, not really. She sees the corner of his mouth turn up. Neither of them seem to know what to say now, so they sit in silence until he asks what she's doing tomorrow.
... ... ...
His entire drive back to Lima, he's wondering what the hell he's going to walk into. He doesn't know what Quinn's been doing, really, because when he called her, she spent most of her time asking how work was going and making stupid fucking small talk like they haven't been married for years and don't know everything about one another. He laughs at himself and turns up the radio when he realizes that may not be the case anymore, because she hardly ever talks to him about what she's actually feeling.
He was never the guy who cared as much about emotions as he did about everything else. If everyone was happy and having a good time, that was all he needed to know. So he fucked over his best friend and cheated? So what. He got a daughter out of it and eventually a wife. Finn got over it and everything worked out, so he doesn't give a fuck what the guy felt when they were 16 and he learned the truth. It's horrible, probably, to think that way, but he doesn't care.
Even with Rachel. Yeah, he treated her like shit and tortured her for a couple years. He apologized for it (more sincerely than he'd like to admit) and it all worked out in the end. She was kind of a friend towards the end of high school. Not a great one, but a friend. And now she's kicking ass and taking names at this musical stuff. Honestly, does she give a shit if he once drew a crappy cartoon on a bathroom wall of her giving Jacob Ben-Israel a blow job? Probably not.
But right now, he'd give just about anything for just a bit of insight on what's going on in Quinn's head. If she's not shutting him out completely, she's acting like nothing ever happened. He doesn't know which of those scenarios to hate more, to be honest. Their daughter died, and he's not too much of an idiot to admit he's a little desperate to actually talk about it with the one person who understands this feeling like he does.
When he gets home, she's laying on the sofa watching a rerun of a sitcom she's always liked, and she smiles at him when he comes over and sits down. She raises her legs and then sets them over his lap and they sit there in complete silence until the show is over and she asks him about the drive.
He doesn't know how to segue into talking about their daughter, so he just rubs Quinn's calves and lets her pretend there's nothing wrong.
The more she pretends, the angrier he gets.
He seriously considers telling her he ran into Rachel, just because he knows it'll piss her off and maybe make her actually react to something he says or does. It's stupid and probably really wrong, but he wants this friendship with Rachel to be just between the two of them. It's one of the few things he has right now that's keeping him sane.
"D'we ever get a card from Rachel?" He's combining the two topics he wants to bring up.
"Rachel who?"
"Berry," he says. "What other Rachel do we know?"
She shrugs, turns on her back and looks at him. "We don't really know her. I haven't seen her since high school. And yeah, maybe."
"Maybe?"
"You saw the stack. I didn't read them all," she admits. He'd be annoyed, but he didn't read them all either, obviously. "Did she send one?"
"Yeah," he says. She just stares. "Mom told me. Her dads said something, I guess. She was in Paris or whatever."
Quinn scoffs. "How nice of her to take time out of her life," she mumbles.
It pisses him off and he doesn't want to talk anymore, about anything, so he lifts her legs and gets up, says he's going to unpack and do a load of laundry. She tells him to grab her things too and he spends the rest of the night in their basement rec room watching sports and waiting for the spin cycle to be done.
He remembers he used to do this and Beth would want to watch baseball with him (it was her favourite sport) and she'd lay on the sofa with her head on his thigh and yell at the umpires with him.
Fuck, he misses her.
... ... ...
Her fathers come visit her for a whole weekend, which they really only manage to do once every six months or so. Daddy's latest promotion has him traveling more, globally, and Dad is taking on way fewer clients so he can travel too. Rachel thinks it's sweet and they've definitely worked hard enough that they deserve it. Logically, she knows she could visit them in Lima more often (at all) if she wanted to see them more. She feels a little guilty for thinking they don't spend enough time with her when she doesn't spend any at their house. Of course family is the best reason to go back there, but really, why would she want to go back to the one place she's ever been where everyone hated her? No thank you.
Her dad does all the things he always does; checks the oil in her car and goes to the basement to check the fuse box or the breakers or whatever he does. The door that leads to her deck is squeaking, so he takes it upon himself to go to the hardware store for something to take care of the hinge. She'd rather he just stay put and talk with she and Daddy, but she knows it's his way of taking care of her now that she's not living under their roof, so she doesn't say anything about it.
"You look happy, Birdie," Daddy says as they sip wine on the back deck. Dad smiles like he agrees.
They've never called her out on this, on the fact that sometimes she seems less than perfect and most of the time she's rather lonely. The fact that they're pointing out that they've noticed a change probably means more than she wants it to. She can't decide whether or not she should be annoyed by it. They're her fathers, so she goes with 'no' and refills their glasses.
"I am happy. The show is going really well and I feel like I'm settled in the city again," she explains.
It's more than that, too, but she's not going to get into it. She and Robert haven't so much as had dinner together since they got back from Paris. He's being a brat and barely speaking to her. Her fathers don't approve of that relationship, mostly because of the age difference, but also, her father says he's too much like Jesse St. James. It made her laugh the first time he said it, but now she sees that it's kind of true. Robert wants what he wants when he wants it, and she used to be like that, too, but she's grown up enough to realize life isn't always going to work that way.
"Any new men in your life?" Daddy asks, gleam in his eye.
And she doesn't totally know how to answer that.
Technically, Noah isn't a man, not in the way her daddy means. He's also not new. He's an old friend, and she knows that's not what Daddy is getting at. Other than Noah, there's no one. One of the men who auditioned for her show practically propositioned her. No, she wouldn't be against a fling, but she also knows 'sleeping to get ahead' when she sees it, and she's well above that. She's not going to let some 22 year old kid with a great voice and better dance moves into her bed because he thinks she'll give him a job. She's also not going to let him into her bed because she wants sex, then not give him what he wants. That means he's not getting into her bed at all.
She's spent far too much time thinking about sex lately.
"No," she laughs after a moment. "No, there's no one. I'm far too busy for that."
(Funny that she always seems to make time for Noah when he's in the city.)
She texts him while her fathers are inside looking for more wine (they don't have to look hard; she's got a wine fridge in her kitchen).
Dads are here. My god, help me!
His response is nearly instant and it makes her laugh.
Mom's for dinner tomorrow. You're on your own, cupcake.
She can hear her fathers laughing inside and figures she's got a few minutes to message him.
Your mother is lovely. My fathers are pressing me about my love life.
She drains what's left in her glass and reads what he's sent.
My mom's nuts and it's mom, Q and Hannah. I win.
She doesn't know what to say to that, really, because yeah, she can't imagine any dinner with Quinn Fabray would be one she'd like to attend.
God, did she actually just think that?
It's no secret she's never really liked Quinn. The girl (now woman) hated her in high school and practically made her life hell. Even after Quinn and Finn broke up and he and Rachel were together, Quinn found reasons to be a complete bitch. She had an infant and a mound of her own problems, but she still somehow managed to butt in and give her opinions on everything from Rachel's wardrobe to how she chose to act around her boyfriend. One time Rachel was holding Beth because Noah needed two hands to lift something from his truck and Quinn nearly went ballistic and snatched the girl away. She can practically see the look on Quinn's face when she found out Rachel and Finn ended their relationship.
So she texts Noah back, You win.
She leaves it at that.
... ... ...
It takes three beer and a lot of tuning women out to get through this dinner at his mom's place. Hannah mentions Beth and gets three pretty scathing looks, then offers a meek apology and he jumps in and tells her it's okay. She shouldn't have to feel like she needs to walk on eggshells around he and Quinn. He's getting better at dealing with this stuff. Quinn, he's not so sure about.
"Can we go?" she asks almost immediately after the dishes are done. He and Hannah washed and dried them all. He doesn't know what Quinn and his mom talked about.
"What happened?"
"Nothing happened, Puck, I just want to go," she snaps.
So he says goodbye to his mom and sister, hands Quinn the keys and she drives them home. She goes to bed immediately and he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened. He calls his mom to ask if she said anything or whatever, but she promises she didn't mention Beth at all and they were just chatting about their jobs and it was like someone flipped a switch and Quinn's mood turned sour.
He'd think she was bullshitting him if he hadn't witnessed that a million times before.
He texts Rachel because he's bored and practically alone in his own house.
Survived. Barely. How's it going?
And yeah, he's actually interested and they text back and forth for a good 10 minutes until she mentions having to go because they were just at intermission during a show and the second act is about to start.
When he thinks it might be safe, he heads into the bedroom. Quinn's fast asleep, which he was hoping for, and he has a quick shower and climbs into bed next to her, not that it gives him much comfort anymore or anything.
Quinn barely talks to him at all the next day, and he doesn't know what the fuck her problem is. if she says, 'nothing' one more time, he's going to fucking lose it. She's attempting to wordlessly walk past him in the hall, and he grabs her arm.
"Quinn."
She jerks her arm away and gives him a cold glare. "Tell your mother to take her pictures down."
He looks at her like she's nuts. There's no reason for that and Quinn's being a bitch if she thinks there is.
"No," he says, because not only is it his mother's house and she can decorate however she wants, but also, just because Beth's gone doesn't mean they have to erase her.
"I'm not asking," she says. She crosses her arms like she's not backing down. He's not backing down either.
"Some of us want to remember her," he says coldly.
Her glare falters and she looks at him through watery eyes. "You're an asshole."
"You're being fucking crazy."
"Don't call me that!" she screams.
No seriously. She's being fucking crazy.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asks, more surprised than anything. "Quit acting like this is only happening to you."
She slaps him across the face and he grabs her wrists in his hands before she can go to their room like he knows she'd try to do if he didn't stop her. She's breathing heavily and it looks like she's trying not to cry. He's just pissed off. He doesn't care if she slaps him (even if it's been years since she pulled that shit) he just wants to know what the fuck is going through her head right now that's making her act fucking bi-polar.
"She was my daughter."
He gives her a look. "And she wasn't mine?"
She pulls her wrists from his grasp and fixes him with a cold stare. "It's not the same," she tells him.
The fuck it's not. He doesn't want to get into it with her, though. He's exhausted and fucking tired of this conversation, so he lets her go and grabs his keys, leaves the house before either of them says something they're going to regret. He goes to Finn's place and they watch a game and sip beers and when it's over, he doesn't really want to leave. Finn just says, "Dude, go home," in this voice that makes Puck realize that he really can't start sleeping anywhere but at his house.
It'll be too easy to want to do it all the time, he thinks.
...Chapter 3...