Summary: Sometimes more words can be shared in just the briefest of glances. Drabble-fic set during 1x13 – Sectionals. Puck/Rachel


She was being selfish.

There was no other way she could put it. Because when it came down to the real reason she had told Finn, it was because she wanted him for herself.

She could pretend to be righteous and say that it was the right thing to do; what a true friend would have done.

But she knew the truth. And the worst part was, she knew that everyone else knew the truth also.

She hadn't even stopped to think about what would happen other than Finn leaving Quinn; like she always wanted. She didn't take into account witnessing his face crumple with knowing disbelief. She didn't take into the account the rage he would feel, or the fight that would ensue. She didn't take into account the impact it would have on Glee club, or the broken expressions on everyone's faces.

But most of all, she didn't take into account the extreme guilt she felt when she saw Quinn's tears of defeat.

She had tried to apologise, and while Quinn's words should have absolved her; they really didn't.

She hadn't noticed him approaching until he was right in front of her. And the moment her eyes connected with his, she felt a fresh wave of guilt and sorrow as she took in his face.

Because even though they only shared the briefest of glances, he no longer looked like the arrogant Puck that walked through these halls like he was the good lord's gift to women. No, he looked like the Noah that had walked into Glee rehearsal a few seconds after three-thirty looking scared and unsure; though he had protested this fact for the remainder of the day.

She needed to say something. Anything.

Because in that moment, she needed him to know that she was wasn't the selfish bitch everyone thought she was. She didn't care what the others thought, as long as he knew...

And then he opened his mouth to speak. So she held her breath for the inevitable berating she was about to receive.

But no words came.

She tried to convey all her sorrow and regret in that one look.

And when he tried to smile, she could hear his message loud and clear.

It's okay.

And suddenly, she needed to get out of there. She broke eye contact and swiftly walked down the hall.

Because despite his unspoken words... everything was not okay...not when everyone was hurting so much.


He hadn't really thought about her since that day on the bleachers. At least that's what he told himself.

There was just too much other stuff going on for him to worry about his five-minute relationship with the self-proclaimed high maintenance star. No, instead he had to concentrate on his one-minute relationship with his best friend's girlfriend. (Although it had lasted much longer than that, because it was just a relative comparison, and come on, he was a stud.)

He had mostly spent his time thinking about how he could finally be with his baby, and Quinn, when the shit would inevitably hit the fan.

But now, there she was walking towards him. She was the reason for his throbbing cheek bone, and the reason he was now free to be the Dad he needed to be.

She looked up, and when his eyes met hers, the part of his brain that kept the memories from those four days they spent together from coming to the surface just decided to quit. Because even though his baby momma was less than three feet away, he was back in that bathroom with Rachel on his lap, looking at him with resignation and sadness.

He opened his mouth so speak. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he needed to say. Because for some unexplainable reason, he needed her to know that he wasn't a screw up, and that he wasn't just some Lima loser going nowhere in this middle-of-nowhere dead-end town.

But then she blinked. And he knew that he didn't have to.

Because even though they shared just the briefest of glances, he could hear her words loud and clear.

I'm so sorry.

He tried to smile, to tell her it was okay, even though he knew that everything was so far from okay. This was not her fault... it was his.

And she seemed to understand as she looked away.

So the words that he needed to say were just left unspoken.


Author's note: Okay, so I know it's kinda sad, but I keep rewatching that one "real" Puckleberry scene we've had since Mash-up over and over again, because I feel seriously deprived, and this is what came out of it. This scene (in the show, not my drabble) is why I love Puckleberry so much, because silent angst always leads up to the most passionate of relationships. Anyway, thanks for reading this drabble-fic (even though it's a little longer than a drabble should be.)