Chapter 1

The Accordion Debacle

Sequel to "Life is Pandemonium"

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Summary: The accordion incident is over, but not forgotten. Puck decides that they need counseling, dragging a very reluctant Mike Chang along for the ride.

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It was an undisputed fact that dirty secrets were supposed to make you cooler. They were supposed to make you badass. Like, killing a guy with a pipe wrench made you the dark and mysterious, silent and deadly kind of cool. Seducing and sleeping with older women made you the suave and charming kind of cool. And then there was the lesser cool, drug trafficking secret (lesser cool because even if you did tell someone you would probably have to kill them, and that would get out of hand after awhile).

Maybe that had always just been Puck's interpretation on things, maybe he was just hopeful that the dirty secrets they had in movies should be like the dirty secrets you had in real life, but since he lived in Lima, Ohio, reality tended to put a major damper on things.

See, Puck had this dirty little secret, and it wasn't even remotely cool. Hell, for most people, it wasn't even remotely a secret.

Puck, as it so happened, was a man of the law.

Or he wasn't, not in the way that statement meant it, it was more like he was a man for the law. Ever since he and Finn's failed attempt to knife Vocal Adrenaline's cars and his short stint in Juvie, Puck had kind've…just a little, been upholding the legal system.

To a tee.

He wasn't proud of it, he still pulled pranks (better planned out, but mostly harmless) to throw off the scent, but he couldn't deny it.

He'd become a rule follower. Never thought he'd see the day.

See, he knew now that the only way he could completely be annulled (that was the word his mom used) of his crimes was if he carried out the punishments, or, the price of them when he'd committed one, which left him in a fix. See, technically back in New York he and Mike had, as they say on all those badass cop shows, "disturbed the peace" and their punishment, given to them by an actual lawman, was to seek out counseling.

Now they didn't really need it, he and the Changster were cool, (it didn't have to be said, it just was), but Puck knew, knew that the nagging voice in the back of his head would not go away until they at least got what could pass off as counseling for appearances sake.

The only question then, was who was going to be their mediator.

No way were they going to a pro, that would cost money, money they didn't need to spend because there weren't actually any problems. That meant they would have to pick one of their fellow glee kids. The problem was that a majority of their friends had a nasty tendency to gossip uncontrollably, and Puck would prefer if this was kept on the down low. The only two who had proven themselves to be safe to confide in were Kurt and Quinn (considering they kept the whole Sam-lived-in-a-motel secret for way longer than Puck would have been able to) and normally in this situation he would pick the girl, because they lived for the whole talking about feelings thing, but Quinn seemed kinda scary since her break up with Finn.

That left Kurt, who would probably be willing to humor them in return for…something. Didn't really matter, Kurt's prices were a lot cheaper than Quinn's were.

So…yeah. All he had to do was call Kurt, explain the situation, threaten to kill him if any of it got out, and then call Mike to get him to show up. Puck wouldn't tell the dancer why, he was already on the fence about telling one person his dirty secret, let alone two.

It was foolproof, and it would totally relieve his guilty conscious.

Ten minutes, tops, and then they would be free to get on with their summer.

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Mike had learned the word "debacle" from Rachel Berry. He had heard it before, but never knew the meaning, not that it was a necessity being that most of the people he hung out with didn't know it either and would have believed any definition he told them. He could have said debacle was French for ice cream and they would be using it for months during their Halo-athons, but that wasn't the point. The point was that aside from being really cool sounding (debacle, just saying it was fun) it also fit a lot of the situations New Directions found themselves in.

In plain words, a debacle was a failure, which made this cool sounding phrase a lot less fun to use because who liked failing?

Debacle.

Failure.

Not a fun translation.

So ever since Mike and Puck's accordion debacle back in New York Mike had been a little on edge about spending any time alone with Puckerman. It wasn't like they could possibly have a repeat of those sequence of events, or that he was even afraid Puck would get him back for getting a crowd of strangers to boo at him for supposedly being a neglectful boyfriend, he was just pretty sure there was something about Puck that made him want to break free of his normal silence and stand up for himself.

For most people this was a good thing. Individuality, speaking your mind, these were things that every inspirational television program, public service announcement, and Disney movie had been preaching since forever and as much as Mike liked the idea of it, it wasn't really his style. He liked not stressing; it didn't bother him that he didn't voice his opinions. The only thing he really wanted was a moderate amount of respect, just…acknowledgement of his existence and he was cool.

And alone time with Puck just- it brought out the worst in him, so he'd been avoiding it.

That was why when the jock finally called him and said they had to meet up at Kurt's ASAP, the only reason Mike agreed to show up was because he knew Hummel was going to be there to run interference, and possibly Finn too. Mike didn't know what was so important; he simply thought whatever dilemma Puck was facing would be mildly entertaining if anything.

He really should have known better.

It started off rocky and got gradually worse.

"Gentlemen," Kurt started, clipboard in hand (Mike had been trying to catch a peek at what was on it to no avail), after he had situated Mike and Puck just so, sitting side-by-side on the edge of his bed. He paced in front of them slowly, looking at them with a calm expression that somehow managed to give Mike the heebie-jeebies.

Kurt continued, pausing to tap his pencil against the side of his clipboard, "I am so glad you came to me with your problems, I assure you everything you tell me will be kept in confidence."

Mike's mind had ground to a halt at "your problems", so it was Puck who picked up the conversation beside him. "I already told you this is strictly for appearances sake. Me and Chang are fine."

Kurt smiled in response.

"I'm sure you are," he chirped, amused by Puck's comment. "But just to be thorough why don't you tell me what this is all about?"

Me too, Mike thought, mind still racing for an answer. His best option right now was to wait for Puck to explain what the hell was going on.

"Well," Puck began, running a hand through the top of his Mohawk casually. "Mike and I were kinda on a mission back in New York. We had to hit the streets, doesn't matter why, and near the end of it Mike had an identity crises and caused a public disturbance and the cop said he'd let us go if we agreed to get counseling. So, here we are."

During the course of his explanation Kurt's eyebrows seemed to slowly rise to the top of his head. All the while the blood gradually drained from Mike's face.

That was what this was about? The stupid, he's stupid…

The aggravation from that night began to creep back up on him, and Mike took a few deep breaths before he could say something he would regret because he did not have an identity crisis, he had had a crisis of respect which was completely different and he thought Puck had figured that out by now. Whatever, he just needed to end this stupidity before that mess could be dragged back up.

"The only reason," Mike began, trying to keep his tone as calm and relaxed as normal. "He said that was because he thought we were a couple Puck."

Mike ignored Kurt's look of intrigue and kept his focus on Puck, who, as pure usual, was unbothered. Of course he wasn't bothered. Nothing bothered Puck, he was Puckzilla, Puck the man, the stud, the-

Mike's urge to strangle was slowly returning.

"Laws the law dude," the jock shrugged, oblivious to the burning fury he was reigniting. "I'm just trying to follow it."

Kurt was beginning to pick up the hints of rage that were emanating from Mike's being but decided, unwisely, to push on with this farce of a therapy session.

"What exactly happened during this meltdown, per say?"

Puck was only too happy to fill him in.

"Well first he started threatening to kill me, which was not cool by the way," he interjected offhandedly, glancing Mike's way before he continued, "and then after that he started yelling about how I couldn't push him around and that he wouldn't be ignored and a bunch of other girly stuff like that."

As Puck put to words his take on things Mike couldn't decide whether to hide from the humiliation of it all or give into his urges and initiate an all out attack. He settled for lowering his face into his hands while he decided which would be the more viable choice. In retrospect, the story was more embarrassing than liberating.

Kurt cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly confused from the lack of background information but attempting to hide it.

"So…" he began, finally stilling his pen. "You were ignoring him, I assume?"

"That's just the thing," Puck replied, and he didn't bother to hide any of his confusion or assumed innocence. "We had just spent like, two hours together. How could I ignore him? I was with him the whole time!"

He didn't bother thinking about the implications of his statements and Mike briefly wondered why Puck picked Kurt of all people to be their mediator.

"I even bought him ice cream!" Puck finished his defense, and Mike snapped his head up, taking a moment to glare at the guy beside him because while he had done the actual buying Mike had still been the one to give him the money.

"Badly," the dancer elaborated, and Kurt hummed beside them, muttering under his breath "bought ice cream badly" as he wrote it down, while Puck just stared at him in confusion.

Mike broke the staring contest first, because the ice cream hadn't been important, he honestly could have cared less about it. He was about to explain that he had just been very stressed at the time and that this was all just a big misunderstanding when Puck opened his big, fat, stupid mouth and drastically altered the course of their summer vacation.

"You're such a girl, Mike," he sighed under his breath, like he was the injured party, and once again Mike found himself trembling in a fit of rage he could not fully describe with words. Puck must have recognized his decent into animosity because his eyes widened, but instead of defending himself like a smart human being he turned to the only witness to the would-be murder.

"That's the look he got before it all started," he explained, and Kurt nodded in approval and continued jotting down notes, mentally capturing the look.

To keep himself from injuring an innocent bystander Mike settled for only letting out a brief gargle of rage as he scrubbed angrily at his face in a futile attempt to make himself forget the past ten minutes before he bolted out the door, down the stairs, and completely out of the house, possibly freaking out Finn's mom when he passed by the living room. He wasn't totally positive; he was only seeing red at the time. When Mike got outside he realized that Puck had been the one to drive them there, probably to make sure he wouldn't be able to escape, so he flipped the other teen's truck twin birds before taking off down the street. He had two capable legs damn it, he would walk home.

Three blocks later Finn caught up to him in his truck and drove Mike home, eyeing him with the same trepidation usually reserved for Coach Sylvester during her pre-Glee friendly days. They didn't speak a word the entire time.

Mike would call Kurt later to apologize (it wasn't his fault he was dragged into this, it was Puck's) and then he would promptly spend the rest of his summer avoiding his mohawked friend until he decided to be a pal and forget their accordion debacle entirely. And of course if that didn't work, he could always just keep, you know, not talking.

He was pretty much a champion of that.

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Their second counseling session produced slightly better results than the first, though like the previous one, Mike had been tricked into showing up to it. He should have assumed that once Kurt caught whiff of two guys with any kind of relationship issues (friend relationship, Mike could not emphasize that enough in his mind) that he would not release his talons from it until he was either dead or a resolution had been reached. The Broadway-versed teen had sucked Finn into this as well, enlisting his help to lure Mike back into his dungeon of despair. The Quarterback had called Mike one Tuesday night of no particular significance and demanded that he show up at his house, his story being that Sam and Brittany were challenging his mastery of DDR and that he needed to defend his title.

Mike was there three minutes and seven traffic violations later, only to find neither of the accused blonds nor the video game in question. Instead, the moment he walked through the door he was literally attacked and dragged up the stairs, by Finn as fate would have it, and then bodily shoved into Kurt's room with no particular finesse. By the time he pulled himself off the ground the door had been blocked by Blaine, and when Mike turned to ask Kurt what the hell he was doing there he was surprised to find that Puck was thankfully absent.

A small blessing.

While he was mentally celebrating this Kurt answered his unspoken question, "I decided it would be wise to bring backup this time."

Mike nodded briefly in response and then considered the repercussions of knocking Blaine out of the way and making a break for it. Sure, Kurt would be mad at him for a while, and odds were Finn was still prowling around downstairs, but he had to try didn't he?

Window, Mike thought, eyeing it to see if it was one of those kinds that opened fully or if it was one of the ones that just mocked you. It was the second floor; he could make the jump no problem.

As though reading his mind Kurt moved to block his secondary exit with a worried look on his face and, of course, his pink clip board in hand.

Because what was a therapist without a clipboard?

Kurt cleared his throat to recapture Mike's wandering attention and began to address him the same way he would an injured stray dog, trying to be calming and helpful without getting the snot bitten out of him.

"Last time we let Puck do most of the talking."

Let, like Mike had had a choice the first time. He never let Puck talk it just freakin' happened.

Kurt continued, "So I thought that maybe we should hear your take on things."

"You don't believe him, do you?"

The words were out of Mike's mouth before he could really think about it, mind still focused on the stupid that was Puck. "Because he is not innocent."

"Mm-hm, mm-hm, go on" Kurt interjected quietly, pen racing across the page.

Mike began pacing back and forth, agitation growing.

"I mean, I didn't mean to get that mad, he's just so…" Mike paused, running his hands through his hair wildly, trying to find the right word.

"Stupid," he settled on, and continued his pacing.

"I'm not even asking for a much, I mean," he halted again, this time turning to Blaine. "A little respect's not a lot to ask for is it?"

Kurt's boyfriend wisely shook his head "no" and Mike was back off on his tangent, speed gradually increasing.

"And I shouldn't…I mean, he should just…he says he's my bro so shouldn't there be a little respect? Just a little? Why do I have to ask for it, it should just be there!" Mike's voice was rising and he was beginning to sound like a chick but he couldn't help it.

Sam was cool with him and they'd barely known each other a year.

"I thought he treated everybody like that," Blaine broke in, clearly addressing Kurt (he must have heard about stories of old Puck because…) and Mike halted abruptly and stared at him in amazement, because Puck used to, with getting Quinn knocked up and treating girls like crap and throwing pee balloons at people, but now he was all trying to convince Rachel not to get a nose job and being all lovey on Zizes for her personality, and trying to get Sam to come clean about his supposed cheating and backing up Artie and Finn when they tried to woo a girl. He was treating all of them better but he was still treating Mike with the same amount of disregard as he used to and how the hell had Mike not noticed that sooner?

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked when Mike continued to stare into the distance as all this flashed through his brain, and even Kurt moved from his guard position so he could get a glimpse of his face.

"He doesn't," Mike whispered, and then he began to laugh quietly, causing Kurt and Blaine to share a look that would best be described as "oh no we broke him" but Mike couldn't be bothered with their troubles because he was on a roll now.

"Why should I be special?" he proclaimed, smiling even though he was feeling far from happy. "I'm just the background guy! He's only known me forever!"

He stared back and forth between them wildly.

"I don't talk so I must have no soul right?" he asked, shouting at the ceiling, and later he would feel bad for this because he hadn't spent that much time with Blaine and was currently making a terrible impression on him. "And if you don't have a soul you don't have feelings right? Right?"

As he finished his ranting and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, weighed down with a modicum of despair.

There was a good chance it could have ended right then. Kurt and Blaine could have talked to Mike and assured him that he was fine, that he had a soul, and that Puck wasn't doing it on purpose and then everything could have ended and they would have all been cool.

But fate was of a differing opinion.

For behind the door, probably but a few steps down the hall came a voice, talking to Finn, and Mike didn't have to be able to see it to know who it was because the words were a dead giveaway.

"I see he's still acting like a chick," Puck joked, and Mike launched himself at the door, shoving Kurt and Blaine aside and whipping it open to reveal a surprised Finn and-

It didn't matter what Puck looked like because Mike was too busy trying to strangle him into unconsciousness.

Unfortunately Finn pulled him off before he could achieve his goal, and Kurt suggested that they finish their session another time.

Another time, right. Like Mike was going to show up to this house again.

He didn't bother looking behind him when he walked away.

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Endnotes:

I had to do it, it just needed to be done because as funny and Puck and Mike were in New York, the hilarity would be far greater if they were in counseling.

And this is just the beginning.

I hope you will enjoy this addition.

Until next time.