Fic: Six Conversations
Title: Six Conversations
Author: Unequivocally (Previously Soliloquyrain)
Pairing,Character(s): Puck/Rachel
Rating: R
Word Count: 1288
Spoilers: Aired Episodes
Summary: Just forget it. Five Times Rachel Berry almost gave up on Noah Puckerman, and the one time she did.
Author's note: Apologies to my flist for spamming your friends page. Please forgive me.
-----
He doesn't talk to her much. It didn't bother her at first.
After all, he was going through a lot. Babygate, as Mercedes called it, and the inevitable fallout.
Quinn hated him. Finn hated him. Glee, as a whole, had turned its back on him. His mother was so disappointed in him, and though he was loathe to admit it, she knew that he cared about what his mom thought of him. Even Mr. Shue looked at him differently.
Now, she is the only constant thing left in his life, and she knows he sort of hates her for it--a constant reminder of what's missing. Giant, gaping open space with only her in it to emphasize just how alone he really is.
They have a very strained relationship friendship truce. He comes to her because she's the only one who didn't leave, and she lets him because she knows if she doesn't, nobody else will; she's his last resort and he's the only boy to climb into her window at midnight and pepper her body with kisses.
It's a relationship of need and convenience, and so they tolerate each other.
He tolerates her admittedly grating personality, and she tolerates his rage.
Tolerated. Tolerated his rage.
Because time is passing and she's tired of being his emotional punching bag.
What is this?
Fuck, Rach, we really gotta do this right now?
Do what?
Talk. Share. Whatever. God.
Is it that horrible to talk to me?
About all this pansy-ass shit? Yeah. It is.
Fine. Forget I asked.
-----
She knows what he looks like on the inside, and it's frightening.
It's frightening because it's not as ugly as he'd like her to think, he just makes a conscious choice to be that way. She doesn't know which is worse.
Contrary to what he'd like her to believe--what he'd like everyone to believe--he isn't a terrible person.
Oh, he knows how to lash out. How to rage, tear down and kick. He knows what hurts. Oh, boy, does he know what hurts.
But he has such a capacity to be a good man; he can and does love. He knows right from wrong. He knows how to touch a person. And though rare, he can be touched, which is equally important. He lets her see that part of him, sometimes. When she's lucky. When he's sleepy or relaxed or just coming down off an orgasm and the euphoric haze is still upon them.
Sometimes he looks at her like she's more than just a warm body. She could love him, she thinks, when he's like this.
She told him that one night.
It was a mistake she only made once.
You're a good person, I think.
You think wrong.
I think I could love you.
I'm sorry to hear that.
I'm being serious.
So am I.
God, just forget it, Noah.
-----
She thinks he needs her.
She thinks he knows this.
She isn't so delusional to think herself so important that her very existence will save his person. But she knows loneliness when she sees it, and she remembers how something seemingly minuscule (a look across a hall a brush of hands lips on her cheek) could be the difference between a bad day and utter melancholy.
She sees him when he thinks she isn't paying attention. He looks... sad. Unbearably sad.
So, yeah. She wants to save him.
She thinks she could save him.
But he hates her for trying, so she's not even sure where to begin.
Do you believe in fate?
Not really.
Not even a little bit?
No. Why, you think you were fated to be stuck with me? What the fuck did you do in a past life that was so wrong?
I think you need me as much as I do you.
I don't need anyone, Berry.
I think you do.
Whatever, if I wanted a therapy session I would've stayed home and listened to my moms fucking chatter.
Forget I said anything.
-----
There's a brittle tension in the air. They're both waiting for it to snap.
It's like waiting for a fever to break, so you can start to feel better again.
Quinn is due next week. Finn will be by her side. And in a fleeting moment of closeness while coming down from an orgasm, he admits that he's always loved the name Abigail.
She tells him it's a beautiful name and he pushes a strand of hair out of her face and agrees.
He tells her he thinks Rachel is beautiful, too.
He never brings it up again, and she doesn't pry.
When Quinn gives birth a week later, he comes to her room in the middle of the night and presses her against the bed, working his fingers between her legs until she says his name.
Could you ever see yourself having kids?
I got a kid on the way.
I mean seriously, Noah. Like, settling down and having kids, not some high-school fling that--
What the fuck do you know, anyways. Callin' my daughter an accident.
I didn't call her an accident, I just meant--
And it wasn't some fucking fling, either, alright? Not that it's any of your fuckin' business.
Wait, don't go. Just, forget I mentioned it.
-----
He always dresses as soon as he's done, clambering from the bed as if a second's delay will send her the wrong ideas.
He wants to make sure she gets the message: this is nothing more than base human need.
He keeps his back to her as he fastens his pants around his waist and when she asks him if he wants to stay the night, he always grunts a halfhearted no thanks as he pulls his shirt on. Once he's dressed he sits next to her on the edge of the bed, fingering her comforter gently while he looks everywhere but her.
Sometimes he apologizes. Sometimes he admits that he has no idea what he's doing. Sometimes he says he wishes he could be better to her and he's sorry that he's not.
But usually he just scratches the back of his head and mumbles something that sounds like see you whenever before climbing out the window.
Is that all this is? Just sex?
Pretty much.
Can I ask you a question? Do you even like me?
Sometimes.
Why are you so nasty to me?
Why are you so fucking emotional? Goddamn.
Why do you have to be so cruel about it?
If you want someone to fuckin' coddle you, I'll get Hudson on the phone.
Forget it. I can't reason with you.
-----
There's only so much an aspiring starlet can handle, and the night she finally tells him that she is removing him from her life is the night she finally feels like she can breathe again.
She's not the one who got Quinn pregnant and she's not the one who betrayed her best friend and she's not the one who ruined his life and she's not going to be the one he breaks because he's breaking, himself.
She tells him this in a voice so calm it scares her and when he says fine, whatever, you were a good fuck while you lasted, she knows that he's drowning but she can't keep doing this to herself anymore.
She wants to save him, she really does, because she thinks she could love him (she thinks that she might) and she thinks he could love her, too, if he ever really tried.
But he's going under fast and she can't let him pull her down with him.
What are you doing here?
Look... I know I fucked up.
I think you need to leave.
I just... want another chance.
Forget it.
-----
He broke my heart
and now it's raining, just to rub it in.
-----
Author: Unequivocally (Previously Soliloquyrain)
Pairing,Character(s): Puck/Rachel
Rating: R
Word Count: 1288
Spoilers: Aired Episodes
Summary: Just forget it. Five Times Rachel Berry almost gave up on Noah Puckerman, and the one time she did.
Author's note: Apologies to my flist for spamming your friends page. Please forgive me.
-----
He doesn't talk to her much. It didn't bother her at first.
After all, he was going through a lot. Babygate, as Mercedes called it, and the inevitable fallout.
Quinn hated him. Finn hated him. Glee, as a whole, had turned its back on him. His mother was so disappointed in him, and though he was loathe to admit it, she knew that he cared about what his mom thought of him. Even Mr. Shue looked at him differently.
Now, she is the only constant thing left in his life, and she knows he sort of hates her for it--a constant reminder of what's missing. Giant, gaping open space with only her in it to emphasize just how alone he really is.
They have a very strained relationship friendship truce. He comes to her because she's the only one who didn't leave, and she lets him because she knows if she doesn't, nobody else will; she's his last resort and he's the only boy to climb into her window at midnight and pepper her body with kisses.
It's a relationship of need and convenience, and so they tolerate each other.
He tolerates her admittedly grating personality, and she tolerates his rage.
Tolerated. Tolerated his rage.
Because time is passing and she's tired of being his emotional punching bag.
What is this?
Fuck, Rach, we really gotta do this right now?
Do what?
Talk. Share. Whatever. God.
Is it that horrible to talk to me?
About all this pansy-ass shit? Yeah. It is.
Fine. Forget I asked.
-----
She knows what he looks like on the inside, and it's frightening.
It's frightening because it's not as ugly as he'd like her to think, he just makes a conscious choice to be that way. She doesn't know which is worse.
Contrary to what he'd like her to believe--what he'd like everyone to believe--he isn't a terrible person.
Oh, he knows how to lash out. How to rage, tear down and kick. He knows what hurts. Oh, boy, does he know what hurts.
But he has such a capacity to be a good man; he can and does love. He knows right from wrong. He knows how to touch a person. And though rare, he can be touched, which is equally important. He lets her see that part of him, sometimes. When she's lucky. When he's sleepy or relaxed or just coming down off an orgasm and the euphoric haze is still upon them.
Sometimes he looks at her like she's more than just a warm body. She could love him, she thinks, when he's like this.
She told him that one night.
It was a mistake she only made once.
You're a good person, I think.
You think wrong.
I think I could love you.
I'm sorry to hear that.
I'm being serious.
So am I.
God, just forget it, Noah.
-----
She thinks he needs her.
She thinks he knows this.
She isn't so delusional to think herself so important that her very existence will save his person. But she knows loneliness when she sees it, and she remembers how something seemingly minuscule (a look across a hall a brush of hands lips on her cheek) could be the difference between a bad day and utter melancholy.
She sees him when he thinks she isn't paying attention. He looks... sad. Unbearably sad.
So, yeah. She wants to save him.
She thinks she could save him.
But he hates her for trying, so she's not even sure where to begin.
Do you believe in fate?
Not really.
Not even a little bit?
No. Why, you think you were fated to be stuck with me? What the fuck did you do in a past life that was so wrong?
I think you need me as much as I do you.
I don't need anyone, Berry.
I think you do.
Whatever, if I wanted a therapy session I would've stayed home and listened to my moms fucking chatter.
Forget I said anything.
-----
There's a brittle tension in the air. They're both waiting for it to snap.
It's like waiting for a fever to break, so you can start to feel better again.
Quinn is due next week. Finn will be by her side. And in a fleeting moment of closeness while coming down from an orgasm, he admits that he's always loved the name Abigail.
She tells him it's a beautiful name and he pushes a strand of hair out of her face and agrees.
He tells her he thinks Rachel is beautiful, too.
He never brings it up again, and she doesn't pry.
When Quinn gives birth a week later, he comes to her room in the middle of the night and presses her against the bed, working his fingers between her legs until she says his name.
Could you ever see yourself having kids?
I got a kid on the way.
I mean seriously, Noah. Like, settling down and having kids, not some high-school fling that--
What the fuck do you know, anyways. Callin' my daughter an accident.
I didn't call her an accident, I just meant--
And it wasn't some fucking fling, either, alright? Not that it's any of your fuckin' business.
Wait, don't go. Just, forget I mentioned it.
-----
He always dresses as soon as he's done, clambering from the bed as if a second's delay will send her the wrong ideas.
He wants to make sure she gets the message: this is nothing more than base human need.
He keeps his back to her as he fastens his pants around his waist and when she asks him if he wants to stay the night, he always grunts a halfhearted no thanks as he pulls his shirt on. Once he's dressed he sits next to her on the edge of the bed, fingering her comforter gently while he looks everywhere but her.
Sometimes he apologizes. Sometimes he admits that he has no idea what he's doing. Sometimes he says he wishes he could be better to her and he's sorry that he's not.
But usually he just scratches the back of his head and mumbles something that sounds like see you whenever before climbing out the window.
Is that all this is? Just sex?
Pretty much.
Can I ask you a question? Do you even like me?
Sometimes.
Why are you so nasty to me?
Why are you so fucking emotional? Goddamn.
Why do you have to be so cruel about it?
If you want someone to fuckin' coddle you, I'll get Hudson on the phone.
Forget it. I can't reason with you.
-----
There's only so much an aspiring starlet can handle, and the night she finally tells him that she is removing him from her life is the night she finally feels like she can breathe again.
She's not the one who got Quinn pregnant and she's not the one who betrayed her best friend and she's not the one who ruined his life and she's not going to be the one he breaks because he's breaking, himself.
She tells him this in a voice so calm it scares her and when he says fine, whatever, you were a good fuck while you lasted, she knows that he's drowning but she can't keep doing this to herself anymore.
She wants to save him, she really does, because she thinks she could love him (she thinks that she might) and she thinks he could love her, too, if he ever really tried.
But he's going under fast and she can't let him pull her down with him.
What are you doing here?
Look... I know I fucked up.
I think you need to leave.
I just... want another chance.
Forget it.
-----
He broke my heart
and now it's raining, just to rub it in.
-----