Just woke up with this in my head and well here we go…So please be patient and maybe it will come together…And yes I am working on "What did you do?"…My love to ValBabe-You know who you are!

Anywho, I am going for something different in this fic…I swore I would never do a fic like this but here I am writing it...I put part of the blame on the pics I saw from the Nationals shoot in NYC...The chemistry between Cory and Mark was there, off camera…Review please…Hemmy

He Never Cries

The party is beginning to die down as he walks up the stairs looking for his ride. It is getting late and his mom would be worried if he wasn't home soon. The buzz he had earlier was beginning to dissipate from his brain. He checks the bathroom first, making sure his ride wasn't in there puking his guts out. The next door leads to a couple making out and obscenities being hurled at him for disturbing them. He did get to see a little boob action though. The next door is the same. The last door he opens is empty or at least he thought it was until he heard the whimpering sound from the other side of the dark room.

Taking long strides around the bed, the curtains let in enough light to see the shape laying on the floor against the wall. The figure has his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He can hear the muffled sobs, see his friend's body shake with each breath. Terror fills his mind, seeing his friend crumbling alone in the dark. He never cries…

He walks over squatting down on his knees, pulling the other teenager against him. Arms reaching up wrap around his neck and he can feel the hot tears slipping down his neck to the collar of his shirt. He has no idea what is wrong, but he knows that something bad has happened tonight. His own body shaking from the fear that grips him. "What happened in here? You have to talk to me!" The only response he gets is more broken sobbing from his best friend.

He tries to pull the other teenager up to his feet, but stops when he hears the muffled pain filled groan, "please stop, it hurts too much." He stops, but he pulls the body against his lap, just holding him. "Who did this to you?"

"Get me out of here, please." The voice is cracked and strained from emotion. "Just want to go home...Please!"

He thinks for a minute, trying to figure out how to get his devastated friend out of the house. The back door is off of the kitchen, if he can just make it down the stairs and through the kitchen without any trouble from anyone, then he can make it to his car. He can just tell everyone that he is carrying him out because he passed out, he is too drunk to walk on his own.

He wraps his arms around the shuddering body, lifting him up into his arms like a small child. He tells the young man in his arms to try and be quiet as they exit the house. He waits until the sobs subside, he steps out of the bedroom. The weight is not unbearable and he begins the descent down the stairs from the landing. The party downstairs is over and he notices that there are not that many people left as he heads through the kitchen to make it to the back door.

"Is he alright?" Santana looks at both guys pointing her finger at the one being carried out.

"Yeah, he just got a little too wasted tonight. I'm going to take him home and let him sleep it off." The teen hopes she believes him.

"You could just leave him here and let him sleep it off. It's not like I'm gonna try and molest him in his sleep." Santana is concerned when she sees the other jock's grip tighten and starts shaking his head no at her words. What the hell?

"No that's alright. I'm just gonna take him home, to my house. We were going to spend tomorrow playing Halo 2 and just chilling in my room." He makes his way to the back door, he tightens his arms around the jock in his arms letting him know that he's got him.

They make it out of the house without further incident and after getting the distraught and struggling teen buckled in, he leaves Santana's driveway headed to his own home. He watches his friend out of the corner of his eye, the whimpers that escape chewed lips, the sick painful groans that happen every time he hit's a bump in the road. "We are almost home dude. Almost home." He speaks the words like a mantra over and over trying to reassure his best friend and himself.

Santana walks around the house thinking about the odd pair. Finn was literally cradling Puck like a little kid in his arms. The way Puck reacted to her words bothered her. Puckerman was always more than willing to jump her bones when she was in the mood, so why did he act all freaked out. Just doesn't make sense.

Santana smiles at the site in front of her. She finds Dave Karofsky in the living room. He is picking up garbage and throwing it away. Ever since she had found out his secret they had become more than friend-enemies. They had several conversations about who and what they were, how the world would never accept them. In that they had found kindred spirits in each other.

"I saw the strangest thing tonight. Finn was carrying Puck out to his car." Santana muses out loud as she helps pick up the empty plastic cups and other garbage.

"Really, why is that strange? I mean Puckerman was probably drunk off his ass and Finn was just being Finn." Dave looks at Santana not understanding where she is going with this. "What else could it be?"

"Puck can handle his liquor better than anyone who was here tonight. So I don't think that was it. I told Finn to leave him here, let him sleep it off. I made a joke about not raping him and he sort of freaked out in Finn's arms. It was like he got scared all of a sudden." Santana suddenly remembers that they came down the stairs and she runs to the second landing, with Dave following behind her.

"What the hell San?"

"You look in those rooms", Santana points to the right, "and I will take the bathroom and these two."

"What are we looking for?" Dave is getting frustrated, he has no clue what Santana is up to, but he opens the first door anyway.

"I don't know. Just see if you can tell which room they were in before I saw them come down stairs." Santana looks around the bathroom, other than being out of toilet paper for the fifth time nothing looked unusual. She moved to the next room.

"Um Santana I think I found something. I don't know if it was them but there is a mess in this room." Dave's face is contorted in disgust.

"What the hell! I'm going to kick some little bitch's ass for bleeding on my mom's new linens. What the fuck? Couldn't they stop long enough to go and get a towel?" Santana is ranting about the bloody comforter on the bed. She is thinking that some little twit was on the rag while fucking her boyfriend.

"Uh, San….I don't think it was some chick in here." Dave is holding up Puck's letterman jacket. It was laying on the floor beside the bed.

"Oh my God! What the fuck happened in here? Dave?" Santana takes the jacket from Dave's hands, looking to the bed at the blood stain. She pulls the jacket against her chest.

"I don't know. Was he bleeding when you saw him? Was his face busted up? Like from a fight?" Dave looks at the shape and size of the stain.

"No, but his face was buried in Finn's neck so I really didn't get to see it clearly. I'm going to go call Finn and see what the hell he knows about this shit." Santana takes off to find her cell phone.

Dave spots something on the floor almost under the bed. He picks it up and knows who it belongs to. He can feel anger wash over him as his mind puts together a scenario that makes him want to kill someone. He puts the offending object in his pocket before Santana can see it. He knows the Latina will kill the owner if his thoughts are correct. He walks down to the kitchen listening to her swear in Spanish about Finn's balls and earrings. He knows those words cause she has screamed them at him before. He watches her grab her keys and latch on to his arm.

"Come on! We are going to Finn's and find out what the fuck is going on! Damn asshole won't answer his phone!" Santana screeches as she drags Dave out the back door to her car.