Lone Ranger

"Scary? Nothing scares you, man!"

Puck blinks as Finn jabs him in the chest with a laugh and reminds him of some stupid car-surf he'd done years ago, as if it's supposed to make him feel better. Doing stupid shit that can get you killed isn't bravery – Puck knows that better than most, even if he doesn't want to admit it because yeah, doing stupid shit is fun sometimes when his house feels like a war zone.

Puck can't help feeling pissed off at Finn for saying nothing scares him, because how dare his best friend assume he's anything other than what he is?

He grits his teeth and asks Finn what the hell he is going to do, and feels even more pissed off as Finn replies that he doesn't know and leans back against the lockers like his life sucks. Puck wants to punch him.

Sometimes Puck wonders if Finn is even remotely aware of how ignorant he is. He's acting like Rachel's his whole world and all Puck wants to do is shove him into the wall to remind him that hey, asshole, I'm right here. Puck's not a smart guy, but one thing he's good at is knowing who's got his back and who doesn't and Finn definitely doesn't right now, so he thinks that maybe they aren't best friends after all.

Not to mention the fact that Finn and Rachel have done so much shit to each other over the three years they've even known each other – from slushies to cheating to lying and ignoring – that Puck was secretly predicting a divorce roughly a week after their stupid high school marriage was made official. Puck has done some shit to Finn, too, but Finn has never reciprocated that where it wasn't deserved, and for God's sake they were over Babygate, so wasn't their relationship supposed to be worth more than his treacly romance with Rachel?

It kinda feels to Puck like he's been fighting for his entire life just for a little bit of attention. It's why he does all his crazy shit, why he cuts his hair the way he does, why he dated Rachel, why he finally snapped and told Mercedes about Beth being his, why he sleeps with all those air-headed pathetic cougars. He'd dated Lauren because even though she kept pushing him back, he could tell that she was just like him – looking for attention. Except she was better than he was, because she knew she didn't have to fight for it.

Puck doesn't really understand why everyone else seems to be wrapped up in Finn's world, like Finn's problems are the only ones that matter. Even Santana had seen Puck come into school with a fresh bruise on his neck – not the good kind, the kind shaped like his dad's fingers – and only shrugged and ignored it when Puck told her he was fine. Granted, he did tell her the bruise was nothing, but weren't chicks supposed to be instinctively listening to the subtext?

Puck leans against the lockers next to Finn, keeping his voice tight and controlled as he spews some undeserved Mr. Schue-esque speech about Finn making his dreams as big as he is and trying really hard not to show just how much he wants to give Finn a shove.

Finn's right – he's not that talented when it comes to football or performing. But Finn doesn't have nothing, so he doesn't have a right to be so fricking whiny.

When Puck finishes his speech Finn gets this look on his face like you're believing in the wrong person, I suck, so he tacks on an addendum of "And now you owe it to me," and makes damn sure Finn knows he's not as lonely as he wants to think.

And then he walks away, making damn sure Finn realizes that he will be alone if he keeps this shit up.