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Puck Winchester

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Summary: Or how the Council ruined Puck's life, got him a family, a girlfriend and a plan

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > GleeShulikFR18511,8023318,38010 Apr 1122 Jun 11No

Chapter 4

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“Here’s the thing,” Puck says, swaying to and fro on his bar stool. He squints at Adam and the other Adam sitting beside him, both of them watching him warily as if he’s about to topple over onto them.

As if, Puck’s a badass. He’s got awesome motor skills and the ability to drink a Polish person under the table. Finn’s like half Polish, his ma’s last name is Ksiazek and that’s sort of from the region, right?

Where was he? Puck grimaces and rubs at his forehead. Why is he even thinking about his seventh grade math teacher again?

“Right,” he says out loud and holds up a finger, “and I told her, I told her that it was a super shitty idea. But did she listen to me?”

Puck shakes his head and the whole room swims with the motion, “nooo… Because Noah’s stupid, Noah can’t take care of himself, Noah can just destroy things while saint Finn is just—“ he trails off and when no thought seems to be forthcoming, he slumps dejectedly on his stool, placing his head carefully on his folded elbows.

“I think,” Adam mentions carefully, sliding the bowl of peanuts towards Puck, “that you’re a little more drunk than we expected.” He pauses and mutters “lightweight,” gleefully under his breath. “So here’s what we’re going to do, we’re going to call someone to take us home. And then in the morning, after Sam’s done reaming us out, we’re going ask Dean to start training you.” Adam looks serious and earnest as he sways on his stool, “I think it’ll be good for you to get your mind off the girl.”

“Like,” Puck’s still stuck on this, “gun training?”

“I think,” Adam cocks a vague gun shape with his finger and points it at him, “we’re going to start with basic arm to arm first…” He hiccups, “I’m pretty terrified to think about you with a gun, to be honest.”

Whatever, Puck’s a badass. He doesn’t need training on how to be more badass and to be honest he doesn’t want it.

“I don’t want it,” he tells Adam who hiccups again, before patting down his pockets in the search for his wallet.

“Oh cry me a river,” Adam rolls his eyes, “at least you didn’t have to get all condom-shaped for an angel-“ he trails off, staring woefully into the distance with a look on his face that Puck’s sure is the result of Sam’s genes.

Goddamnit, does this mean that he’ll be emo one day too?

“Come on,” Adam slurs, as he whips out his phone, “we’re calling Dean for a ride.”

“Dude!” Puck rips the phone out of his brother’s hands, before Adam can dial the first nine. “Are you crazy? Dean’s going to have both our asses if he sees us this plastered?”

“Alright,” Adam licks his lips and smacks Puck’s hand, taking his phone back with a petulant expression on his face, “who’re we going to call then?”

Dean’s going to kick both of their asses if they come to him this drunk. Sam’s going to go all emo-angst on them, and get all disappointed so Puck sighs and begins dialing the only person he can think of.

“Berry?” he hiccups when she picks up and chirps something about Rachel Berry, future Broadway diva and Tony-award winner, “I need your help.”


Berry’s wearing a bright yellow sundress of all things to pick him up at a bar, her long hair in a messy bun on top of her head. She looks gorgeous and furious and Puck is in so much trouble because when the first words out of her mouth when she sees him are “Noah Puckerman, you are such an idiot,” and it doesn’t annoy him at all, doesn’t piss him off in any capacity.

In fact, Puck kinda finds it hot when she starts chewing him out for being stupid. Her chocolate-brown eyes are narrowed and she doesn’t have any makeup on her, and Puck thinks that she’s the most beautiful girl that he’s ever seen. Her spirit, her fire, they all add to her more than impressive physical attributes which are very impressive.

Puck knows. He’s checked. He’s done the legwork.

“Hah,” he laughs out loud, to himself and shakes his head ruefully, “legwork.”

Rachel stops her tirade and stares at him suspiciously, like she can’t decide whether he’s just deliberately messing with her head now or he’s seriously a little too drunk to be. “How drunk,exactly, are you?” she asks.

“Drunk enough to do this,” Puck grins and then steps inside her personal space, wrapping his arms around her tiny body as he bows her back and plants a long, wet kiss on her. Berry tries to struggle for a moment but once she realizes that fighting just prolongs the inevitable, she just sort of goes loose and goes with it.

She still tastes like cinnamon and vanilla, like her favorite gum and her lip-gloss. Her skin is fiery hot underneath his hands and Puck knows, knows with all fibers of his being that she radiates heat like a tiny furnace.

Shit, shit, shit- he’s so far over his head, it feels like he’s drowning. And then, Berry makes this little noise under him, this whimper and Puck shoves her away from him- gets her away before it’s too late and he’s fucked his best friend’s other girlfriend right in the middle of some dingy bar.

“Wow,” Adam says, smoothly sliding in between him and Rachel who’s staggered back, pupils blown wide open and shock written all over her features as she holds her fingers to her bruised lips, “it’s like Casablanca except more Jews angsting in high school...”

“Wait,” Berry tears her gaze away from Puck with a visible effort, making him smirk cause hell yeah, he’s got mad skills like that, “aren’t you the visitor from today?”

“Yeees…” Adam drawls distractedly, picking out three twenties from his wallet.

Puck would probably feel bad about having his brother pay for everything, except for the fact that he’s dead broke. Since he’s not allowed to indulge in the more interesting facets of his business anymore- the influx of lonely housewives desperate for his services has dried up considerably.

Stupid Dean, Puck scowls and twitches when Berry’s voice raises a few notches.

"And what are you doing here? Drinking? With a student?” she pokes Adam in the shoulder, startling him. “An underage student, I might add!” she yelps since Puck clamps his hand over her mouth, shutting her up effectively.

“Haha,” he fake laughs at the bartender who’s frowning at him and Adam, “ex-girlfriend. She gets crazy, you know,” Puck laughs again and makes a little circling motion around his temple, clearly signifying that she’s not all there. He pulls Berry closer to him when her flailing takes on a more vicious edge. Probably because of the whole ‘crazy’ thing.

“Come on Berry,” Puck tells her in a low voice, murmuring against her ear as his arms hold her in a secure circle, “just do me this solid, please.”

It’s kind of pathetic, he thinks drunkenly, how much he’s missed holding her like this, her tiny frame safely ensconced in his embrace, smelling the pear shampoo that makes her hair smell like fruit all day long, feeling the heat off her body. Berry’s a whirwind, all contained energy and sparks of heat and not for the last moment in his life- Puck hates Finn Hudson a little bit more.

Fine, Noah,” Berry whispers angrily against him and huffs, “just release me, you great big brute.”

“Awww, Berry,” Puck croons back at her, taking one last, surreptitious sniff of her skin before loosening his arms around her, “where’s the fun in that?”

And that’s when Berry stomps on his foot, like full on legit grinds her heel into his foot.

“Ow!” he hops away from her, grimacing even as he tries to stifle the insane urge to laugh at her tiny, midget sized indignance, “that hurt Berry,” he sniffs and holds his hand to his heart, “deep inside.”

She rolls her eyes and tugs on his shoulder, “I’m so sure Noah.”

Puck grins and starts following her, watching her ass moving in front of him like one of those hypnotist tricks.

“Dude,” Adam hisses from next to him and smacks at Puck’s head, his whole family is violent and crazy and Puck’s so misunderstood, “stop staring at her ass.”

“I’m not staring at her ass,” Puck sniffs and tries to swat back at Adam who apparently has the reflexes of a cat and jumps out of reach with an agility that shouldn’t be possible considering that he’s drank just as much as Puck had, “relax.”

“Although I can see why you’d be staring,” Adam shrugs and cocks his head, watching Berry storming ahead of them to the parking lot, towards her little green Hybrid, “I mean- it’s a spectacular-“ and that’s when Puck punches his brother.


The ride back home is a lot more silent than their time in the bar where Puck had complained incessantly that his brothers were douchey and violent and that Hudson had a small dick and why didn’t Rachel see that he, Noah was the baddest motherfucker in Lima and possibly Ohio.

Adam had chosen to sit in the back after Puck’s ill advised punch in the parking lot, after muttering that apparently Puck was just as douchey and violent as the rest of them and he better work out his girl problems before Dean started his training otherwise Adam foresaw a lot of beatings in Puck’s future.

Whatever, it’s not like Puck doesn’t know that Dean can wipe the floor with him, twist him into a pretzel and then keep him that way as a decorative lawn ornament.

Puck may be all sorts of hot shit in high school but Dean and Sam are the kinds of crazy that willingly go up against the demons that make most people shit their pants, armed only with guns, spells and rock salt.

Shit, the one time that he had asked Dawn whether his brothers were super-powered, she had laughed long and hard in an increasingly wheezy tone until she calmed down enough to tell him that no, they weren’t super powered by any means, but that they had destinies too and destiny is like Glenn Close with your rabbit in her hand. You can either give into it, have some really twisted sex or find a way to make her your bitch.

Wait, Puck wrinkles his brow and thinks, what?

Maybe he’s got his metaphors slightly mixed.

Anyway, the point of the thing, is that Adam’s sulking in the backseat like a little bitch, staring petulantly out the window while Rachel drives like a grandmother beside Puck, muttering to herself about how Finn cannot know about this.

It’s funny, how the sound of her voice relaxes him, like a low level buzzing drone going into one ear and escaping out the other one.

“-and you promise me, Noah, promise me right now that you won’t tell Finn about this, I had already told him that we weren’t as close as before,” he tunes into Rachel’s rambling, his sleepy gaze taking in her flushed cheeks and messy hair.

“Do you want me to?” he asks and yawns wide, scratching at some stubble on his chin.

Yes,” Rachel insists, a little crazy eyed and tense, “I do.”

“Alright,” Puck shrugs and goes back to leaning against his seat, loose limbed and relaxed, “but you’re going to have to do it yourself, cause I sure as hell won’t be able to…” he trails off, as his eyes become heavier and heavier.

When the hell did he become such a lightweight? he thinks and blinks drowsily.

“Wait,” Rachel turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow, “what do you mean, ‘you won’t be able to’?”

Just from the sound of her voice, Puck can tell that she’s gearing up for a seriously epic rant so he cuts her off before she can start and harsh the mellow he’s riding.

“I punched my big brother because of you,” he mumbles as the city lights rush past him, “I’m not going to stop because of Finn and maybe that makes me an asshole, but it’s you Berry.”

“What?” she squawks beside him but Puck’s already pretty much dozing off so he just smiles to himself, smiles at his own idiocy and the fact that maybe he’s the most pathetic motherfucker this side of the county line, but at least he’s an honest one.

“Dawn called me stupid cause I never told you that I’m in love with you, but shows what she knows, right?” he chuckles mirthlessly, already drifting towards the more asleep state of consciousness, his brain heavy and sluggish. “Even if I did, you’d still pick Saint Finn, and that’s why I never will. A man’s gotta have some pride,” he trails off and falls fully asleep with his face smushed against the window.


When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to the sound of Dean’s voice yelling at Adam and a sour taste in his mouth. His head is pounding like a dozen jackhammers have taken up residence in his skull and the room’s spinning like it’s suddenly decided to become some random version of a Tilt-A-Whirl.

His door bangs open and Puck cringes, even as he knows what’s coming.

“Get up!” Dean orders, throwing Puck’s sneakers at his face. “If you’re old enough to go drinking like that, then you’re old enough to start training.”

Puck lifts his head up, slowly, watching as a frenzied blur somewhat resembling his oldest brother storms out but not before pointing his finger at Puck and saying- “You’ll be downstairs in ten minutes if you know what’s good for you.”

Puck does, so he makes it down with a minute to spare.

He’s swaying as he takes a seat beside Adam who’s grimly drinking from a long, glass of water with the look of a condemned man that knows what’s coming. He nods as Puck takes a seat beside him.

“Dude,” Puck reaches across for a bagel, pulling his hand back at the last minute. He reaches for the water pitcher instead and pours it into his own glass. “What happened yesterday to make Dean-o so pissed?”

There’s a silence and then Adam carefully places his glass back to the table and glances at Puck. “You don’t remember?”

“Nah, man,” Puck avoids shaking his head, knowing full well the repercussions of said move on a hangover, “I remember drinking with you in that bar, and by the way, we have to go back there- they don’t check ID for shit,” he beams at the thought of finding a new watering hole, before continuing, “and that’s it until this morning.”

Adam sighs and then expels a breath before hanging his head low, “well shit…”he mutters, “that can’t be good.”

“Nah man,” Puck winks at him, “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I’m too badass to do stupid shit when I’m tanked.” He very carefully doesn’t think about that night and Quinn and raspberry spritzers and Finn Hudson looking soulfully in Rachel’s direction and the year that wasn’t and he very definitely doesn’t think about Beth and whether Shelby’s taking good care of her.

“Oh god,” Adam raises his voice, still contemplating the counter top with an oddly intense air, “why me? I am so not prepared to deal with this high school drama shit,” he whines a little bit, because he’s a bitch like that never mind the fifty percent of awesomeness that he has in common with Puck, “I was a pre-med student, I don’t deal with girl drama!”

Puck perks up at that, “you’re having girl drama?”

Adam’s glare, when it’s directed at Puck is filled with mild rage and that expression that all older siblings have worn at one time or another around their younger brothers, the expression that reads ‘Why me?’ or even possibly, ‘How can one person be so incredibly dense??’

Puck’s cool though, he’s like a duck with water and a pail or some shit like that, he lets glares slide off him like it ain’t no thang. “Dude,” he points to Adam with the bagel that’s somehow mysteriously appeared in his hand, and maybe he’s not too nauseous to actually eat something. “Don’t blame me just cause you’re too lame to nut up and go after the really hot nerd with magical powers.”

He sighs and bites off a piece of the bagel, chewing loudly as he continues, “I can teach you some things about chicks. I’m generous like that.”

“Oh my god,” Adam stares at him, “I’m going to kill you so much. SO much.” Clearly, Adam shares a lot in common with Sam who’s moody on his best days and probably weepy with his hangovers.

“Not if I kill you bozos first,” Dean storms into the room like simply walking is a foreign concept to him. “Let’s go!” he barks out and Puck barely has the time to wonder if maybe he can still make it to the door before Dean’s got him by the scruff of his shirt and is dragging him to the basement where they’ve set up a training room of sorts.

“Just remember,” Puck raises his voice, “the face is off limits. It’s like my training card.”

That halts Dean’s angry progression. He whips his head around to stare at Puck incredulously. “What?”

“I think he means trademark,” Adam says ‘helpfully’ from behind them, cause he’s a suck-up and Puck’s totally putting some Nair in his shampoo tonight.

‘”Jesus Christ kid,” Dean shakes his head, “you’re really something, you know.”

“I know,” Puck preens before throwing Dean’s hand off his collar, “and I can walk by myself. It’s not like I’m going to outrun you or something,” he sniffs like he hadn’t just been thinking of making a break for it two minutes ago.

He ends up walking down the stairs first, head held high and proud as he faces his impending doom with dignity like a man.

“I’m going to kill him so much,” he hears Adam say conversationally. Whatever, Puck can take Adam.

“Join the line,” Dean replies ominously and then Puck hears the sound of the door shutting, effectively cutting off his exit.

The End?

You have reached the end of "Puck Winchester" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 22 Jun 11.

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