Don't Give Up On Us
Title: Don't Give Up On Us
Fandom/Pairing: Glee - Puck/Rachel
Summary/Prompt: So don't give up on us quite yet/I know right now hurts, but don't believe the part of you that says it just won't work/What we had back then is still enough/So don't give up on us/Don't give up on us.
Rating/Word Count: T/~1,819 words
A/N: Written for the puckrachel drabble meme
Rachel pulled the old fleece blanket that she kept folded over the back of her couch off, unfolding it to spread the warm and comfortable material over her legs and up around her shoulders as she settled down to the opening chords of her Rent DVD.
She’d had a bad afternoon at her audition and an even worse morning at the office she was currently temping at; so blurred together with all the other offices she temped for, she couldn’t even tell what she had spent all morning typing.
All she wanted was to watch her movie with her decaf chai tea from the café down the road from her apartment and completely block out the outside world. She definitely didn’t want to think about how this day could be made better if she was curled up with someone else.
No. She pushed that thought far, far from her mind. She had rid her apartment of everything that reminded her of him when everything collapsed four months ago, and she had no intention of dredging up painful memories that she was trying to keep locked away.
She had reached the part of the movie where Roger and Mimi were crawling on the floor of his apartment, singing about dancing at the Cat Scratch Club when the phone sitting on the kitchen counter of her tiny apartment started ringing. Ignoring it, ignoring everything outside her apartment, she let it go to the voicemail, if it was important they would leave a message.
You’ve reached the phone of Rachel Berry. Unfortunately, I am unable to answer your call but if you would be so kind to leave a message I will get back to you at the closest convenience.
“Rach?” His voice filled her apartment and Rachel froze. It had been a month since his calls had stopped coming, and she had thought that he was finally finished pestering her every night. His voice was slurred, she could hear it even in the one word and Noah never thought properly when he had alcohol in his system. “I know you’re there. You’re ignoring me; again. Pick up the phone Rachel,” He paused and Rachel thought she could hear the sounds of a bar in the background.
Of course he would be calling her from the bar; hoping that she would take pity on her drunk ex-boyfriend.
“Whatever.” She heard him mutter, and the distinct click of him ending the phone call. She turned her attention back to the television screen, blocking out any growing thoughts on Noah Puckerman and the disturbing one that she was pretty sure she heard him mutter the word bitch as he hung up.
Things had ended between them, they had ended badly. Of course Rachel was upset that her almost five year relationship with Noah had come to a violent and sudden end, but it didn’t mean that she was going to shut down over it. She had spent her week on the couch in her pajamas; scarfing down all the non-dairy sorbet in the apartment and watching her extensive collection of musicals all day. She had spent her time crying into Quinn’s lap until her face was blotchy and her voice was hoarse while her friend told her everything was going to be okay. Now she was back to living her life.
*~*
Three days passed with no communication from Noah, and Rachel could breathe easy again knowing that the other night’s late night phone call had been a one-off drunken fluke. She had left the office that afternoon excited about the plans she had made to go out dancing at a new club with some work friends; that excitement lasted until she reached her apartment door; opening it carefully once she realized that it was unlocked.
“What are you doing in here Noah?” Rachel sighed, staring at the back of her ex as he sat on the couch, flipping through a book she had left on the couch the night before. “How did you get in here? You don’t have a key anymore.”
“Super let me in,” He grunted, tossing the book and standing up to face her. “Told him I needed to get some stuff that was still in here.”
“Any belongings you left behind are in storage at Quinn’s place,” Rachel sighed, one hand on her hip. “You know that Noah.”
He snorted. “O’course I know that. I needed to get in here, idiot believed me.”
“Well now I need you to leave Noah. I need to get ready, I’m going out tonight.”
“On a date?” Noah’s voice got angry, defensive. Rachel thought about playing with his head, telling him so what if she was; but she shook her head slightly instead, looking down. “I’m going out with friends dancing. Noah, please; you need to leave.”
“This isn’t over.” Noah promised her, taking one step to close the gap between them and he towered over her tiny frame. “You’re still my girl.” Then he kissed her with so much force that she reflexively grabbed onto his biceps to keep her balance before pushing away.
“Goodbye Noah.”
He smirked at the hitch in her voice. “Later, Rachel.”
Rachel went out that night in her favorite black mini skirt and red halter top, with her heels that added two inches to her frame. She danced up against a blond with a strong Australian accent and a strong alcohol resilience and drank until she forgot all about Noah Puckerman.
*~*
“Jesus, Rach. You’re wasted.” She had just stumbled out of the cab, her heels in her hand and she thought she was imagining in his voice. She had to be imagining his voice; she told him to leave hours ago.
She looked up, and he was sitting there on the front steps leading into the walkup; a bottle of Jacks in his hand. He had only been there an hour, waiting for Rachel to make it home; and he was still sober.
“I do believe I asked you to leave Mr. Puckerman,” Rachel smiled sweetly at him even as the fire burned in her eyes. “You’re lucky I came home alone tonight. I met a gorgeous man tonight, who would have been more than willing…”
Noah cut her off with a growl, following her up the stairs to the second floor. “Don’t be ridiculous Rachel.”
“Ridiculous Rachel,” She parroted, fumbling with her keys before he wretched them out of her hand and jammed them into the lock. “I’m always the ridiculous one, aren’t I?”
“Just get into bed Rach,” Noah sighed. “Sleep this off, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“What if I don’t want to talk to you tomorrow Noah? What if I don’t want to talk to you at all?”
He opened his mouth, but promptly shut it when he realized he was about to call her ridiculous again and he had a strong feeling that it wouldn’t go down well.
“Just get into bed Rachel,” He repeated, guiding her into the bedroom that he had shared with her until four months ago when he had stormed out. He had been crashing at Finn and Santana’s ever since.
“Why can’t you leave me alone Noah,” She sighed as he threw the covers over her lying - completely clothed - form; he wasn’t going to risk her wrath just to get her into something more comfortable. “This was so much easier when you just left me alone.” She muttered.
“Because, I don’t want to leave you alone,” He muttered back, taking a chance by sitting down next to her on the bed. “This whole thing is just stupid Rach,” He brushed away a strand of her hair that had fallen down her cheek. “We shouldn’t have broken up.”
“You’re the one that left,” Rachel reminded him. “We were arguing in the kitchen and you told me that you couldn’t deal with me and you stormed out.”
“We were fighting. Of course I walked out, I needed to breathe before I said something stupid that I’d regret. You were the one that told me not to come back.”
“Like what?” This was the biggest conversation that they’d had since their last fight. “That we weren’t worth it anymore, that being here was too much, that it just won’t work anymore?”
“Rachel,”
“You’ve changed Noah. You’re not the same boy I was in love with in high school, and I know I’m not the same girl you loved either. We’re different people, and maybe we just don’t work together anymore.”
“Don’t say that Rachel,” Noah sighed; staring right into her doe brown eyes. “Don’t say that we don’t work. Of course we work.”
“But we’re fighting all the time Noah. Every night it’s like it’s a new argument. We can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep doing this.”
Noah had to take a risk if this conversation was going to get anywhere tonight, if he had any chance of ever sleeping in this bed again; he straddled Rachel, resting down on his arms on either side of her chest.
“Baby, I know this is hard; but who said that it was meant to be easy?”
“It’s not meant to be like this though. I don’t want it to be like this.”
“What do you want? Do you want that fuckin’ cheesy crap you had with Finn back in junior year? Pretending what you had was some perfect Disney fairy tale that you watched when you were a kid?”
“Every girl dreams of having a fairy tale Noah,” Rachel cried, angry that he had brought up her relationship with Finn. “I don’t want Finn, but I’m allowed to want the fairy tale.”
“But this is the real world Rachel. Reality; it’s a harsh word but it is what it is. I’m here; with you. You keep trying to run away from this, but I’m here.”
Rachel sobbed again, turning her head so she wouldn’t have to face Noah. Her head was hurting from the alcohol, and his voice was cutting straight into her. She didn’t want to think about any of this. “Noah, it hurts.” She finally whispered. “Coming to New York was meant to be easy, I was meant to be a performer. I was meant to be on stage. All my life I had dreamed of Broadway.”
“I know it hurts, but what we have is enough. It was enough back in Ohio; it’s still enough now that we’re out here. Rachel Berry doesn’t quit, she just keeps going until she succeeds.”
She smiled, unable to come back with another argument. “Don’t give up on us Rach.” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips met her hair.
“Stay here tonight.” She muttered, her anger and defiance slipping, pulling her arms out from under the cover to wrap around his neck. “I just really need you here tonight.” She’d had enough of fighting him.
“Of course, baby.” He kissed her again, sliding down onto the mattress next to her.