puck/quinn - with heart fit to break (oneshot)
Title: With Heart Fit to Break
Pairing/Characters: Puck/Quinn
Summary: It's a pattern she's too exhausted to try breaking.
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 2,000
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Other: This fic travels backwards, showing excerpts of Quinn and Puck's relationship through her having the baby, and then the end is actually where it would end, so it's not the beginning. I hope that makes sense.
i.
Finn's practically fucking Rachel with his eyes all the time now. He doesn't dump Quinn though, and she doesn't break up with him.
They don't see each other outside of school. He meets her at her locker and walks next to her as they go to Glee club. Finn doesn't bother with holding her hand anymore, but sometimes he'll offer a quick kiss. Quinn gets into the habit of turning her head when she notices that calculated look in his eyes, so that his lips touch her cheek instead of her mouth.
She doesn't want fake affection.
Coach Sylvester lets her join the Cheerios again because she's lost most of the baby weight. Her old uniform's a little tight. It'll fit perfectly once she sheds five more pounds though, and Coach Sylvester makes Quinn work out whenever she has a spare moment. Putting her hair in a ponytail everyday takes some getting used to again. She's able to wake up a few minutes later in the morning when she doesn't have to worry about doing something with her hair.
She doesn't sleep much though, so it doesn't really make a difference.
Puck won't look at her anymore.
She tries to feel relieved.
ii.
When the baby comes there's no sound. Quinn is panting quietly, forcing herself to keep her eyes open; the doctors are exchanging worried looks, tight eyebrows and frowns, handing the little girl off, sending her away before Quinn gets to really look at her. Quinn thinks the baby has Puck's eyes.
The news arrives, and Quinn doesn't hear any of the words spilling out of the doctor's mouth as a therapist nods along somberly. Instead she sees Finn run a hand through his hair; relief flashes in his eyes and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. She shuts her eyes, trying to block it out, attempting to feel what Finn is feeling.
All she feels is loss.
Puck comes in with his eyes downcast and bloodshot, shoulders slumped. His eyes lock with hers and Quinn gulps. She rolls over and tries to fall asleep, waiting for Puck to leave and for Finn to come back.
When she wakes up at three A.M Puck's still there, head in his hands, breathing ragged and quiet.
No one's in the room when she wakes up later, tearing streaming silently down her face. Quinn wipes them away and takes deep breaths until she doesn't feel real anymore. Her whole body is tender and sore with exhaustion, but Quinn can't close her eyes.
She decides to name the baby Clementine; she vows to forget everything.
iii.
Waiting backstage to perform with Glee Club is completely different than doing it with the Cheerios. Mr. Schuester isn't screaming at them; he's giving a boring speech about how whether they win or lose, he's proud of them.
Quinn calls bullshit.
Right when Mr. Schuester supposedly empowering words are reaching their climax, Quinn feels bile making its way up her throat. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she sprints to the bathroom, ignoring the stares as she runs past everyone--she used to being gawked at by now. Pushing open the door and racing into an open stall, Quinn kneels in front of the toilet. A lot of girls used to vomit at cheerleading competitions.
She was never one of them.
It makes its way out of her throat easily and burns with acid. Someone's holding her hair back and Quinn doesn't look to see who it is- she assumes Santana. After the last of the bile is gone and her stomach grows calm again, Quinn dry heaves for a little while, making sure she won't be running back here in the next few minutes.
When she turns around Puck's holding out some toilet paper, she takes it with a glare, wiping at her mouth. "Thanks," she says simply.
Puck reaches past her and flushes the toilet. "No problem."
The baby kicks hard against her belly and Quinn's eyes widen, her mouth falls open. "Oh my god."
"What?" Puck turns around to look at her, concern etched on his face, his hand is pushing the door open and he's ready to leave.
"She's kicking." Quinn thinks she's going to throw up again.
"What?" There's brightness flooding Puck's eyes as he approaches her, a question he's asking.
Nodding her head a little, Quinn bites her lip when Puck's hand rests lightly on her belly. He makes eye contact and she can see herself grinning in his pupils.
iv.
Everyone is looking at her like she's Hester Prynne as she walks down the hallway. The bump is clearly visible and nothing in her wardrobe can hide it. Finn's holding her hand, but his expression is completely blank. His fingers are clammy and cold as he tells her everything will work out.
She doesn't think so.
Her parents wanted to crucify her when they found out. They're okay with the adoption, but they're too upset with her to be proud that she made the responsible, smart decision. Ordering her to end her relationship with Finn, making her promise to become a virgin again and looking into the whole process, grounding her until the end of high school--that's their makeshift solution.
They're too shocked to think anything through. Everything her mom says sounds like an order being shouted to an incompetent employee. Her dad doesn't say anything.
She spends evenings locked in her room planning for when she gets to live her life again, when she returns to the world she crafted for herself.
v.
Thunder claps and she sips some more of her wine cooler. The party's dead, but she doesn't want to go home to her mother and real life. Quinn prefers playing the part that she's deliberately and carefully drawn for herself: perfect, pure, queen. Everyone believes it. They've never known anything to be different.
Finn left an hour ago, saying he needed to go home- he promised his mom he wouldn't be out past eleven.
He's a good guy.
Puck's arm has found its way around her shoulders, resting precariously on the back of the couch, his thumb almost pressing into the spot where her neck curves into her shoulder.
He's not a good guy.
But he's there.
"I hate my mom," Quinn whispers under her breath. She's okay with sharing this part of herself with him- she'll swear it was the alcohol talking if he ever asks, but she's positive he won't. Besides, he's just as messed up as she is; he's just worse at hiding it.
"My dad's a prick." His forearm is warming the back of her neck now, pressing her hair into her skin. Cold goosebumps cover her arms.
She takes another small sip, leaning her head back over his arm, shutting her eyes so tight they burn. "I want to get out of this town."
"Join the fucking club." Puck's knee hits hers; they're thigh to thigh, the side of his body pressed next to her. Quinn feels claustrophobic; she's breathing recycled air. "Proud member since birth."
Lifting her head in a languid motion, Quinn sets the wine cooler down on the coffee table, watching a droplet of sweat drip down the bottle, hitting the wood. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Her throat constricts when his fingers tickle her knee, his palm flat against her leg. "I'm not."
Quinn sees rain covering the window, making streaks down the glass. She covers his hand with her own, lifting it off her leg. Her breathing is slow and steady as she twines their fingers together.
She straddles him, whispering warm lies into his ear. "I hate you."
Pulling the ponytail out of her hair, his fingers comb through the strands. Quinn feels the ache pulsing on her scalp; the elastic was too tight. "You know-"
She cuts him off with her lips, slipping her hands under his shirt. The clock strikes midnight.
He's not a prince, but she's no Cinderella either.
vi.
She gets used to spending time with Puck. Whenever Finn forgets about her or decides something else is more important, Puck seems to show up with a stupid, asshole comment and cocky smile.
"You know Fabray," Puck says. They're sitting awkwardly on his sofa, waiting impatiently for Finn to actually show up. "We'd be pretty hot together."
Scoffing, she crosses her legs and stares at the people on television advertising diet pills. "Not even if you were the last person in this town."
"Come on." He scoots closer to her and Quinn can feel his eyes burning into her flesh. "Finn won't have to know."
She stiffens as his lips hover over her jaw. Slowly, she turns her head to look at him. His face is serious, his eyes intense. Pressing her lips together, Quinn's mouth goes dry and her eyes flutter. When his lips lightly touch the corner of her mouth she closes her eyes and licks her lips.
Quinn's not this kind of girl, but she can't move. Her heart is racing and she tells herself it's because of how wrong this entire thing is.
The doorbell rings and Puck jumps up.
Taking a deep breath, Quinn wipes at her mouth, smiling at Finn when he walks in.
She has no desire to be Lyla Garrity.
vii.
Finn has disappeared.
Quinn turns her head quickly, her ponytail swinging back and forth. She doesn't see him anywhere; it's beginning to piss her off. She can't believe he didn't come--he promised he would, sporting sincere, deep eyes, hair mused, the hints of a dazed smile.
She believed him.
"What up?" Puck's looking her up and down in her Cheerio uniform, his eyes slowly scaling her body as though he's never seen her before.
"Go away," Quinn sighs. She has no patience for idiots with Mohawks right now. And if Puck's here she's sure Finn is around somewhere- probably trying to decide if there are any souvenirs.
"Is that the way you talk to your ride home?" His smug smile is infuriating.
"My boyfriend is picking me up." Turning away from him she sees the crowd dispersing, the gymnasium is practically empty now. She wonders if the charter bus Coach Sylvester got for them has left yet.
"I know you think Finn is the greatest boyfriend ever," Puck says, raising his eyebrows, "But all you have is yours truly." Puck motions to himself, winking at her. "You're a damn lucky girl, Fabray. I'm hotter anyway."
Rolling her eyes, Quinn looks down at the shiny wooden floor, smells the mixture of sweat and perfume concentrating the air, hears parents congratulating their daughters. The balls of her feet ache a little despite the custom-made white tennis shoes she's wearing.
It's a pattern she's too exhausted to try breaking.
"Let's go." She eyes her gym bag on the floor, but Puck just twirls his keys around his finger. Sighing, Quinn slings the bag over her shoulder and follows him out of the gymnasium
She's tired of being Ophelia.
viii.
Puck finds her after Glee club sitting on the piano bench, snot dripping unattractively down her nose, wetness staining her cheeks, shoulders heaving and strangled breathing.
It hurts. Everything hurts.
"Hey," he whispers cautiously, sitting down next to her, pressing down a key slowly. The sound reverberates around the room for a long time. The air is heavy with unspoken words and unsung melodies.
"Go away," she hisses, wiping at her eyes and nose uselessly. Quinn does not need anyone's pity. She's stronger than that. The last time she cried was at the hospital.
Tucking some hair behind her ear, Puck places a soft kiss behind her earlobe. Quinn bites her lip and sniffles. "Go away." It comes out weaker this time.
"No." She looks at him; he's staring at her. "I’m here."
Resting her head on his shoulder, he slips his fingers through hers.
She has no reason not to believe him.
Pairing/Characters: Puck/Quinn
Summary: It's a pattern she's too exhausted to try breaking.
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word Count: 2,000
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Other: This fic travels backwards, showing excerpts of Quinn and Puck's relationship through her having the baby, and then the end is actually where it would end, so it's not the beginning. I hope that makes sense.
i.
Finn's practically fucking Rachel with his eyes all the time now. He doesn't dump Quinn though, and she doesn't break up with him.
They don't see each other outside of school. He meets her at her locker and walks next to her as they go to Glee club. Finn doesn't bother with holding her hand anymore, but sometimes he'll offer a quick kiss. Quinn gets into the habit of turning her head when she notices that calculated look in his eyes, so that his lips touch her cheek instead of her mouth.
She doesn't want fake affection.
Coach Sylvester lets her join the Cheerios again because she's lost most of the baby weight. Her old uniform's a little tight. It'll fit perfectly once she sheds five more pounds though, and Coach Sylvester makes Quinn work out whenever she has a spare moment. Putting her hair in a ponytail everyday takes some getting used to again. She's able to wake up a few minutes later in the morning when she doesn't have to worry about doing something with her hair.
She doesn't sleep much though, so it doesn't really make a difference.
Puck won't look at her anymore.
She tries to feel relieved.
ii.
When the baby comes there's no sound. Quinn is panting quietly, forcing herself to keep her eyes open; the doctors are exchanging worried looks, tight eyebrows and frowns, handing the little girl off, sending her away before Quinn gets to really look at her. Quinn thinks the baby has Puck's eyes.
The news arrives, and Quinn doesn't hear any of the words spilling out of the doctor's mouth as a therapist nods along somberly. Instead she sees Finn run a hand through his hair; relief flashes in his eyes and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. She shuts her eyes, trying to block it out, attempting to feel what Finn is feeling.
All she feels is loss.
Puck comes in with his eyes downcast and bloodshot, shoulders slumped. His eyes lock with hers and Quinn gulps. She rolls over and tries to fall asleep, waiting for Puck to leave and for Finn to come back.
When she wakes up at three A.M Puck's still there, head in his hands, breathing ragged and quiet.
No one's in the room when she wakes up later, tearing streaming silently down her face. Quinn wipes them away and takes deep breaths until she doesn't feel real anymore. Her whole body is tender and sore with exhaustion, but Quinn can't close her eyes.
She decides to name the baby Clementine; she vows to forget everything.
iii.
Waiting backstage to perform with Glee Club is completely different than doing it with the Cheerios. Mr. Schuester isn't screaming at them; he's giving a boring speech about how whether they win or lose, he's proud of them.
Quinn calls bullshit.
Right when Mr. Schuester supposedly empowering words are reaching their climax, Quinn feels bile making its way up her throat. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she sprints to the bathroom, ignoring the stares as she runs past everyone--she used to being gawked at by now. Pushing open the door and racing into an open stall, Quinn kneels in front of the toilet. A lot of girls used to vomit at cheerleading competitions.
She was never one of them.
It makes its way out of her throat easily and burns with acid. Someone's holding her hair back and Quinn doesn't look to see who it is- she assumes Santana. After the last of the bile is gone and her stomach grows calm again, Quinn dry heaves for a little while, making sure she won't be running back here in the next few minutes.
When she turns around Puck's holding out some toilet paper, she takes it with a glare, wiping at her mouth. "Thanks," she says simply.
Puck reaches past her and flushes the toilet. "No problem."
The baby kicks hard against her belly and Quinn's eyes widen, her mouth falls open. "Oh my god."
"What?" Puck turns around to look at her, concern etched on his face, his hand is pushing the door open and he's ready to leave.
"She's kicking." Quinn thinks she's going to throw up again.
"What?" There's brightness flooding Puck's eyes as he approaches her, a question he's asking.
Nodding her head a little, Quinn bites her lip when Puck's hand rests lightly on her belly. He makes eye contact and she can see herself grinning in his pupils.
iv.
Everyone is looking at her like she's Hester Prynne as she walks down the hallway. The bump is clearly visible and nothing in her wardrobe can hide it. Finn's holding her hand, but his expression is completely blank. His fingers are clammy and cold as he tells her everything will work out.
She doesn't think so.
Her parents wanted to crucify her when they found out. They're okay with the adoption, but they're too upset with her to be proud that she made the responsible, smart decision. Ordering her to end her relationship with Finn, making her promise to become a virgin again and looking into the whole process, grounding her until the end of high school--that's their makeshift solution.
They're too shocked to think anything through. Everything her mom says sounds like an order being shouted to an incompetent employee. Her dad doesn't say anything.
She spends evenings locked in her room planning for when she gets to live her life again, when she returns to the world she crafted for herself.
v.
Thunder claps and she sips some more of her wine cooler. The party's dead, but she doesn't want to go home to her mother and real life. Quinn prefers playing the part that she's deliberately and carefully drawn for herself: perfect, pure, queen. Everyone believes it. They've never known anything to be different.
Finn left an hour ago, saying he needed to go home- he promised his mom he wouldn't be out past eleven.
He's a good guy.
Puck's arm has found its way around her shoulders, resting precariously on the back of the couch, his thumb almost pressing into the spot where her neck curves into her shoulder.
He's not a good guy.
But he's there.
"I hate my mom," Quinn whispers under her breath. She's okay with sharing this part of herself with him- she'll swear it was the alcohol talking if he ever asks, but she's positive he won't. Besides, he's just as messed up as she is; he's just worse at hiding it.
"My dad's a prick." His forearm is warming the back of her neck now, pressing her hair into her skin. Cold goosebumps cover her arms.
She takes another small sip, leaning her head back over his arm, shutting her eyes so tight they burn. "I want to get out of this town."
"Join the fucking club." Puck's knee hits hers; they're thigh to thigh, the side of his body pressed next to her. Quinn feels claustrophobic; she's breathing recycled air. "Proud member since birth."
Lifting her head in a languid motion, Quinn sets the wine cooler down on the coffee table, watching a droplet of sweat drip down the bottle, hitting the wood. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Her throat constricts when his fingers tickle her knee, his palm flat against her leg. "I'm not."
Quinn sees rain covering the window, making streaks down the glass. She covers his hand with her own, lifting it off her leg. Her breathing is slow and steady as she twines their fingers together.
She straddles him, whispering warm lies into his ear. "I hate you."
Pulling the ponytail out of her hair, his fingers comb through the strands. Quinn feels the ache pulsing on her scalp; the elastic was too tight. "You know-"
She cuts him off with her lips, slipping her hands under his shirt. The clock strikes midnight.
He's not a prince, but she's no Cinderella either.
vi.
She gets used to spending time with Puck. Whenever Finn forgets about her or decides something else is more important, Puck seems to show up with a stupid, asshole comment and cocky smile.
"You know Fabray," Puck says. They're sitting awkwardly on his sofa, waiting impatiently for Finn to actually show up. "We'd be pretty hot together."
Scoffing, she crosses her legs and stares at the people on television advertising diet pills. "Not even if you were the last person in this town."
"Come on." He scoots closer to her and Quinn can feel his eyes burning into her flesh. "Finn won't have to know."
She stiffens as his lips hover over her jaw. Slowly, she turns her head to look at him. His face is serious, his eyes intense. Pressing her lips together, Quinn's mouth goes dry and her eyes flutter. When his lips lightly touch the corner of her mouth she closes her eyes and licks her lips.
Quinn's not this kind of girl, but she can't move. Her heart is racing and she tells herself it's because of how wrong this entire thing is.
The doorbell rings and Puck jumps up.
Taking a deep breath, Quinn wipes at her mouth, smiling at Finn when he walks in.
She has no desire to be Lyla Garrity.
vii.
Finn has disappeared.
Quinn turns her head quickly, her ponytail swinging back and forth. She doesn't see him anywhere; it's beginning to piss her off. She can't believe he didn't come--he promised he would, sporting sincere, deep eyes, hair mused, the hints of a dazed smile.
She believed him.
"What up?" Puck's looking her up and down in her Cheerio uniform, his eyes slowly scaling her body as though he's never seen her before.
"Go away," Quinn sighs. She has no patience for idiots with Mohawks right now. And if Puck's here she's sure Finn is around somewhere- probably trying to decide if there are any souvenirs.
"Is that the way you talk to your ride home?" His smug smile is infuriating.
"My boyfriend is picking me up." Turning away from him she sees the crowd dispersing, the gymnasium is practically empty now. She wonders if the charter bus Coach Sylvester got for them has left yet.
"I know you think Finn is the greatest boyfriend ever," Puck says, raising his eyebrows, "But all you have is yours truly." Puck motions to himself, winking at her. "You're a damn lucky girl, Fabray. I'm hotter anyway."
Rolling her eyes, Quinn looks down at the shiny wooden floor, smells the mixture of sweat and perfume concentrating the air, hears parents congratulating their daughters. The balls of her feet ache a little despite the custom-made white tennis shoes she's wearing.
It's a pattern she's too exhausted to try breaking.
"Let's go." She eyes her gym bag on the floor, but Puck just twirls his keys around his finger. Sighing, Quinn slings the bag over her shoulder and follows him out of the gymnasium
She's tired of being Ophelia.
viii.
Puck finds her after Glee club sitting on the piano bench, snot dripping unattractively down her nose, wetness staining her cheeks, shoulders heaving and strangled breathing.
It hurts. Everything hurts.
"Hey," he whispers cautiously, sitting down next to her, pressing down a key slowly. The sound reverberates around the room for a long time. The air is heavy with unspoken words and unsung melodies.
"Go away," she hisses, wiping at her eyes and nose uselessly. Quinn does not need anyone's pity. She's stronger than that. The last time she cried was at the hospital.
Tucking some hair behind her ear, Puck places a soft kiss behind her earlobe. Quinn bites her lip and sniffles. "Go away." It comes out weaker this time.
"No." She looks at him; he's staring at her. "I’m here."
Resting her head on his shoulder, he slips his fingers through hers.
She has no reason not to believe him.