A/N: Happy New Year guys (: Hope you all had a good time whatever you did last night. My ridiculous plan to drink my weight in wine hasn't settled too well with me today so I apologise for any mistakes as this was written severely hungover.
Enjoy.
Rachel let Puck and Quinn walk on ahead, she watched as Puck flexed his arm around the blonde's small waist and pulled her further into his body for support and probably warmth. She could see the two were very close. The girl's head fell to his shoulder as she nursed her sore and bruised hands, Rachel couldn't imagine her playing guitar for quite a while.
The brunette twisted her torso before she headed after the pair to regard the man on the floor. He was still whimpering with groans of pain and obvious discomfort. She debated whether she should help him or alert someone that he was hurt so she wouldn't have to personally deal with the guy. But now that the situation and dispersed and time aloud her mind to catch up with what had just transpired, she decided the man wasn't in that bad a shape. Even if his lungs sounded with protest with each cough that spluttered from his cut lips.
Rachel also hoped the man wouldn't press charges. After all, Puck had been quite vocal when calling the blonde's name and the man would clearly identify the two as the male lead and guitarist from the band that regularly played at the Vox bar. But if that were to be the case, then Rachel always had the argument that she was potentially nearly raped to save her and the pairs skins.
So she left the man, groaning for feeble pleas of help in the gutter where he belonged and stumbled after Puck and the blonde.
After being inactive for the fair amount of time she spent huddled on the freezing ground, her muscles had all but locked and tensed up due to their exposure to the frigid air. Her legs burned with cold as she tried her best to keep up with the two figures ahead. She tucked her chin into the hollow of her neck for the added warmth and protection from the bitter wind, the sparkling glitter of frost danced beneath her numb feet as she hurried on.
Puck led Quinn to the back entrance of Vox, he knew he had to avoid the bouncer and couldn't risk using the front entrance in case the guy questioned Rachel's dishevelled appearance. He motioned for the blonde to wait inside while he guided Rachel with an ushering hand to follow him side once she had arrived back at the bar. Despite being concerned for the girls well being, he was way to cold to wait outside for her.
"Is she okay?"
Puck peered over his shoulder from his crouched position on the floor to look at Rachel. The brunette was standing awkwardly in the door way to a small room, she felt as if she was intruding on a private moment. Puck was kneeling in front of a worn leather sofa, one of his hands gently placed upon the blondes brought up legs. The girl had mirrored her earlier position from the few minutes before when they were still in the cobbled street. Her whole body was scrunched together in an almost uncomfortable looking ball. Rachel gazed at the top of her blonde head, feeling a sudden twinge of sympathy for the girl.
"She will be. She just needs to be left quiet for a little while." Puck turned to face the guitarist again and patted her knee while he stood.
Rachel nodded and made her way more into the room. There was a lot of band equipment haphazardly slung into various corners and wires strewn across the floor, she figured this was Puck and his bands space for their things. She noticed there were so many guitars. The majority lined neatly against a far wall, the rest were huddled together in a corner of the room. The space they had for all of the equipment was nowhere near enough, she found if difficult just maneuvering her way through the mess on the floor to find a place where she could sit.
"Wait," Puck hurried over to one of the large amplifiers that Rachel was just about to perch herself on and quickly swiped up a handful of music sheets that were tossed on top.
She smiled in thanks and settled herself on top of the amp, her gaze drifting between Puck who was clearing a space for himself to sit and Quinn, who was still hunched together on the sofa.
"You're okay, right?" Puck asked from his position on the arm of the leather sofa.
"Just a little sore," her hand automatically fell to her stomach, "but yes I'm okay."
Puck gave an acknowledging grunt and the pair fell into a still silence. Rachel started to fidget with impatience as she waited for Puck to begin talking. He seemed just as on edge as her, after all they were three strangers alone in a small room brought together by unfortunate circumstances, it was only natural that the two of the three didn't know what to say. Rachel cleared her throat lightly and edged forward on her make shift seat. "So, how long have you guys been playing at this bar for?"
"At this bar, a year or so now. There is a lot of opportunity here."
"Opportunity?" Rachel inquired raising an eyebrow.
"There's more opportunity here to get spotted. You know, it's a big place and we get all types of crowds here, we could get lucky at some point." A light smile played at the corners of his lips.
"So you're serious, about what you want to do with your future?" Rachel asked for clarification.
He nodded and then carried on speaking. "Definitely. Me and some other guys from school got together and started playing, not really for an audience just for our own pleasure I guess."
Puck sucked in a slow breath and glanced behind his shoulder at the withdrawn girl. "Come on," he addressed Rachel, "I could use a cup of coffee, how about you?"
Rachel was about to question why the sudden change in conversation and why Puck chose this moment to unsettle them both but he was staring at the brunette with such a piercing gaze it was as if he were testing her to defy him. So she simply nodded with a puzzled expression and drew herself to her feet, following Puck to another side door attached to the smaller room.
He led her inside and closed the door behind himself quietly. The room, if it could even be called a room, was in fact a tiny kitchen area. There was a dainty oval table positioned in the centre which Rachel made her way to and sat herself at one of the three chairs that were scattered around it.
"Do you take milk, sugar?" She glanced up at Puck who was busy brewing a kettle and shifting around in a cupboard for two mugs.
She bit her tongue before her request for soya milk slipped out and asked for it black. She wasn't opposed to drinking coffee without any milk, besides her body still quaked with slight tremmers from being exposed to the icy night; she could use the warmth.
The singer placed the two steaming mugs at the table and took a seat. Rachel hands immediately circled the cup and sighed with contentment as her fingers began to regain their feeling.
"I can't be in the same room with her when I'm effectively going to be speaking about her. Almost seems like bitching, y'know?" Rachel glanced up from her mug to Puck, who was hunched over the table nursing his own coffee. She supposed she could see his logic so she nodded in understanding.
"I live not so far from here, with Quinn. We have our own apartment, it's nothing grand but it does us. We've known each other for all of our lives. We grew up in the same neighbourhood, went to all the same schools... she's my best friend. She always was musically inclined, she can play almost any instrument you put in front of her but it's the guitar where her talent shines. As she got older, her talent progressed and with age she just kept getting better and better. She never had any help, what she knows is all from being taught by herself."
"She's special," Rachel spoke softly.
"Yes. Anyone who has ever had the luck to see her play must realise that, that's why we draw in such a huge crowd. When me and the guys from school got together, I asked Quinn if she would join us. She didn't, but that was at first. Eventually, she started to play with us as long as she stayed in the comfort of our home. As we got better though, I wanted to branch out and test out some of the local pubs, to see if we were good enough. When we did that, Quinn stopped playing with us."
Puck took a lengthy sip of his coffee and continued. "It took me at least a year to coax her into playing with us at a local bar, this bar in fact. The time without her showed me that we were nowhere near as good as we thought we were. I chose this bar because at the time it was dead. And that's not an understatement, people didn't bother coming here because it was run down and there was no entertainment. After a lot of time spent asking and even pleading at some points she decided to come along and play with us for one night. As long as things remained quiet and low key we were alright."
Rachel was itching to know what was wrong with the blonde, and so far Puck hadn't given any indication to what was wrong with the subdued girl. Patience wasn't one of Rachel's strong suits, but she knew she had to wait.
"Quinn continued to play with us for a while. I could see she loved it, she enjoyed every second she was up on that stage- she was in her element. And things ran smoothly for a couple of months. Each week that we played, I noticed there would be a few more people gathered at the bar. If Quinn saw this, she didn't voice her concerns."
Rachel couldn't help but pipe up at this point, she had remained quiet for far too long much to her liking. "That must have been a good thing right?"
Puck scoffed a little. "You would think. But it only got worse. It was like she was testing herself for as long as she could, seeing how long she could stand it before she cracked. In a way I suppose It helped her, being in the public eye for a certain amount of time acted like her own personal diagnosed medicine."
"What happened?" Rachel leaned forward in her seat and stared openly at Puck.
He sighed and ran the length of of his hand over his face. "The bar owner liked us, said we were what his bar needed. He started to refurbish the bar, gave it a new name, installed us a proper stage, he even provided my drummer with a new kit. It was second hand from his son but it was the thought that counted. Of course, this drew in more crowds alone, it was like a brand new bar had opened. He advertised our band nearly every night to his punters and eventually he worked us out a schedule for when we could play at Vox."
"We carried on playing, and the numbers of people grew and we realised then that we were onto something. With Quinn we were brilliant, people told us so. Unfortunately it all came to an end about four months after the bar re-opened. The crowds that Quinn alone was drawing in were immense and she couldn't handle it, so she stopped playing. When that happened, the people stopped coming and the bar fell into a lull. There was no point in us carrying on without her so our weekly sets became less and less until we barely played at all."
He shifted in his chair so he was sitting sideways and rested his temple against a closed fist. "I literally begged for her to return to the band. I shouldn't of but I was desperate. We needed her, and it seemed selfish of me for wanting her because of her talent but she made us, she was and is the very heart of our band."
Puck immersed them into a thick silence. Rachel was unable to find something to say, she understood he wasn't finished with the conversation and that at the moment she would just have to wait and go along with the pace he was setting. He got up then and turned his back to Rachel as his popped the kettle back on, "you want another?" He waved his coffee mug at her which was dangling by the handle off his index finger.
"What happened, Puck?" Rachel asked, ignoring his earlier question.
"She came back," he spoke now with a light tone as he busied himself at the counter. "She likes me to think she did it because we needed her but I know the real reason was because she missed it. And in a way I think she knew it would help her condition, she knew she had to do it for herself."
Rachel clasped her hands in her lap to stop herself from noticeably fidgeting, though her leg still bounced impatiently. She waited in the hopes that Puck would continue but he didn't. She watched him eagerly as he leant himself against the counter top and sipped at his freshly brewed coffee.
She sighed. "Puck, what is wrong Quinn?" She couldn't help herself any longer.
He nodded to himself as if expecting the question and pushed himself forward. Placing his cup down he took his seat again and folded his arms across the table top. "She has a communicative disorder. In other words, she suffers from selective mutism, have you ever heard of it?"
Rachel was shocked. Of course, why hadn't she ever entertained the idea? She nodded dumbly, stunned into a daze.
"Well, she has that. The disorder tends to co-exist with social anxiety, which she unfortunately has. In Quinn's case it was quite severe at one point in her childhood life, but as she grew into her late teenage years it developed into a tamer version known simply as shyness."
"So she is able to speak?" Rachel asked.
"Oh yeah, she can speak perfectly. She isn't dumb or being ignorant like most people presume when they try and get a reaction out of her," he gave Rachel a pointed look. "In fact, at home she can sometimes speak in excess." He grinned at the dumbfounded look on the brunettes face.
Rachel features scrunched into a look of confusion. "Th-then how come she doesn't speak to me?" She fumbled over her words as her brain processed this new information.
"Selective mutism, Rachel," Puck emphasised each word by drawing them out. "She chooses who she wants to speak to. The only people that she talks to are me and her sister."
Rachel frowned in puzzlement. "What about her parents? Does she not speak to them?"
And it would seem that she had touched upon a delicate subject. Puck's chair clattered to the floor as he let the two legs he had being balancing on drop to all four. His jaw clinched and his eyes morphed into a hard, uncomfortable stare. Rachel met his gaze with a measured one of her own, she knew she shouldn't feel intimidated by the man sitting in front of her but there was something about Puck's protective nature that scared her.
When it was decided by Rachel that Puck wasn't making any attempt at answering her question, she pushed on tentatively. "...Puck, what happened to Quinn?"
Something must of happened to the blonde which most probably, gauged by Puck's reaction, involved her parents. The singer heaved a deep sigh through his nostrils and relaxed his stiff posture, effectively calming Rachel. He bowed his head for a moment and rubbed a hand over his Mohawk before titling his brow to look up at Rachel.
"Selective mutism is a mental disorder okay, it can affect both adults and children but mostly children. There is no definite cause as to why kids suffer with it, at least that's what the doctors say. Quinn was always an exceptionally reserved child, she never interacted well with other kids or in social situations. But she did speak, maybe not as much as the average child but she wasn't a mute. Her parents thought that it was just because she was shy and a little withdrawn and eventually she'd grow out of it once she attended middle school."
He scowled at nothing in particular as his mind was flooded with past memories of their childhood. His lips curled in distaste as he recalled the few to Rachel.
"She didn't grow out of it, it became worse because of her damn parents." His voice grew in volume with anger as he surged on. "If they had just left her alone and dealt with her like normal parents then she wouldn't be who she is today!" He unexpectedly slammed a balled fist against the table with enough force to knock over his mug of coffee.
Rachel jumped with a squeak at the sudden bang, her eyes alarmingly darted to Puck's grimacing face to the hot liquid cascading over the shiny linoleum table surface. The tiny room played host to Puck's heavy intakes of breaths and the demanding drip of coffee as it spilled against the tiled floor.
After a while in which Puck chose the time to regain his composure, he mumbled a distant "sorry" and grabbed a bunch of paper towels from an overhead cupboard.
"You don't need to finish if you don't want to," Rachel said comfortingly. She didn't want to push him, if the topic made him angry she didn't want to subject herself to the singers flaring temper.
Puck heaved himself to his feet and slung the clump of now sodden paper towels into a plastic bag which acted as a makeshift bin. "It's fine, I'm sorry. They just...they make me so mad."
He dumped the empty mug into a small steel sink and started pacing the length of the kitchen back and forth. He clasped both of his hands behind his neck and tilted his head towards the ceiling as he continued his pacing.
"When her dad realised that his daughter wasn't making any progress he took matters into his own hands," he breathed a sad sigh, "he use to hit her. Try and beat the 'illness' out of her."
Puck ignored the sharp gasp to his right and unwillingly continued. "The two people in the whole world who she thought she could trust, the two people who are supposed to love you unconditionally turned their backs on their daughter because she wasn't like all the other kids. Her mother as far as I know never laid a finger on her, but she didn't do anything to protect Quinn either. She didn't stop her bastard husband, turning a blind eye was all she was ever good for."
His furious steps faltered and he slowed. His body slumped once more against the counter top as he faced Rachel with a dejected look.
"The abuse got so bad that in the end she completely caved in on herself. She lost all hope that she would ever be normal. Her dad made her believe that it was all her fault and she deserved everything she received. Despite me wanting to report her parents, she pleaded with me to just let it go. So when she finally turned eighteen she moved out of her parents house and in with my family. Not long after that we bought ourselves our own apartment and have lived together ever since. She never fully recovered though, the hurt she has experienced has deeply affected her."
Puck pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger and huffed a sigh."It's okay. You don't need to pass comment. I don't expect you to find something to say, I get that." He assured seeing the look on the brunettes face.
Rachel just blinked up at him and nodded shakily with a slightly parted mouth. "I...what about her sister?"
"She's a lot older than Quinn, she lives in England with her husband and kids. When the abuse first started she was at college so she was never around to see it. She knows little about what happened but what she does know is enough. She has no contact with her dad and very little with her mom, she tries to support Quinn as much as she can," he said.
She shook her head, her eyes slipping shut as the history of the blonde's childhood sunk in. She found it hard to believe that someone, a father and a mother, could punish their child for being different. "Didn't they understand that she had a mental disorder, didn't the doctors tell them this?" Rachel spoke.
Puck scoffed and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. "They didn't take her to a doctor. Apparently they believed there was nothing wrong with her and she was just being a stubborn defiant child. They didn't understand that what she was suffering with was psychological. It was only when she came to live with me and my family that we took her to see a specialist and they diagnosed her with the disorder."
The two lapsed into a morose silence. Rachel slumped back in her seat, a feeling of sudden sadness had descended upon her. She felt so sorry for the poor girl in the other room, she was utterly appalled and completely angered. She felt lost and left bubbling with the need to do something that could express her contempt for these people that she had never met.
Her bitter expression darkened as she ground her rows of teeth together causing her jaw to jut. She only glanced up from furiously picking at her nails when she heard a wistful sigh break the quiet. Puck was looking at her with a pensive expression, the corners of his lips curved into an understanding smile when he realised Rachel was staring at him.
"I get that you're feeling angry at the moment but it's not like you can do anything, it's all in the past now, no need to beat yourself up about it. Quinn has moved on, she's accepted herself and y'know, we've dealt with all the bad. She lives a happy, comfortable life now."
Rachel's gaze dropped to her hands bunched in her lap, her eyes raised to once again meet Puck's. "Is she really happy?" She asked, almost disbelievingly.
Puck pursed his lips, his dark eyes narrowed at the girl in front of him as he head moved in a slow nod. "Is anyone ever really happy?" His voice intoned that the question was rhetorical so Rachel remained quiet, unable to decide if Puck wanted her to answer or not.
He spoke up again. "There are always going to parts of someone's life that they are not content with. She's okay, Rachel. Really."
His assurance helped to ease her concerns for the blonde guitarist, her eyes slipped from his to focus on the clasped hands in her lap. Her attention was caught by the delicate band of silver circled around her wrist and all of a sudden, she felt her stomach drop.
"Crap," it was barely a whisper but it was loud enough to gain Puck's attention.
"What's wrong?" He leaned forward, ducking his head to catch the panicked expression Rachel's face wore.
Rachel continued to stare with worried eyes at her wrist watch as the time displayed sunk in. "Crap," she repeated, louder this time as she jumped up from her seat. The chair fell on it's back with a clatter at the sudden movement.
"I have to go. Oh God I'm going to be in so much trouble," she whined as her hands snaked through her hair and clutched thick handfuls.
"What's the matter?" Puck asked again, sidling around the table to stand in front of the panicky brunette.
She looked up at the singer with wide eyes as her hands pulled at the dark clumps of hair in a desperate manner. "It's just gone half past ten, I was meant to be home for half past. My dads are going to kill me!"
"Dads?"
She ignored the puzzled enquiry as she stood fidgeting beside Puck, frantically biting at the nail on her ring finger as she tried to think up a sufficient plan as to why she would be late home.
"Calm down, it's no pro-" Puck was cut off by a frantic Rachel as she advanced on him.
"Calm down!" She exclaimed, "I can't 'calm down', look at the time," she glanced down at her wrist and scowled at the watches face before thrusting her hand in the singers line of vision so he could read the small Roman Numerals.
Puck sighed and batted her hand away from his face. "I can give you a ride back to your place, it's no problem."
She stared up at him blankly for a few seconds before her lips slid into a wide, relieved smile. "Really? A-are you sure? I mean, I suppose I could find myself a taxi though that would mean risking a journey down that treacherous street and I don't quite fancy-"
He held up a hand to silence the small babbling brunette and swiftly interrupted, "It's fine, really. If we leave now I can get you home in less then thirty minutes."
She nodded vigorously as she smoothed her mussed hair with her palms and followed Puck to the kitchen door. He opened it quietly and led the way back into the equipment room, Rachel peeked over his shoulder as his foot steps slowed to see the blonde sitting still on the worn leather sofa.
She was no longer huddled together in a ball but sitting with her posture straight, her back pressed against the cushions of the sofa and her hands neatly folded in her lap. Her expression was blank as she stared ahead of her at no particular spot in the room and only glanced up when she heard the door creak open and Puck re-entered the room. She remained staring at him until her attention was caught by the pair of dark eyes looking at her over a muscular shoulder. Immediately, her eyes widened with something Rachel couldn't quite place and she jerked her focus away from the pair to bow her head in the hollow of her neck.
Rachel heard Puck sigh audibly and halted her steps to follow him as he moved over to the guitarist. He bent over her and began talking in a hushed tone, after a minute or so Quinn gave a small nod and brought her legs up onto the sofa to wrap her arms around.
Rachel shifted from one foot to the other, her front teeth chewed her bottom lip nervously as she contemplated her next move. There was one more thing she needed to do before she left, she couldn't leave without carrying it out. Her gaze flickered to Puck who was waiting for her by the back entrance to the blonde who had curled in on herself again. She acted quickly before she changed her mind and took the few small strides over to the leather sofa. She hesitated for a brief second before she sunk into the seat next to the girl.
As soon as the blonde sensed the movement next to her, her whole body visibly stiffened. The brunette took note of the pale hands grasped tightly around her knees turn an even paler shade of white as the grip she held strained her tendons. She could distinctively hear the girls intakes of breath become more uneven, heavier.
She turned her head to face Puck, his jaw was clenched and his expression stern but it wasn't enough to off put Rachel. She tore her gaze away from his apprehensive eyes and turned to look at the girl beside her. With a careful movement she tentatively reached out and placed a gentle hand upon the blonde's stiff shoulder.
She paid no mind to the acute gasp to her right and simply spoke. "Thank you."