Title: Algea
Written for a prompt on the livejournal glee angst meme.
Puck's sister is dying of cancer and he's falling apart.
Disclaimer: No part of Glee belongs to me
Warnings: Cancer, Death
AN: Obviously Cancer is a very sensitive topic and it is never my intent to offend, deal lightly with serious subjects or at any point deal with the subject material in less than a serious manner. I thank you all for reading. For those interested in the title, The Algea are the spirits of pain and suffering (both physical and mental) in Greek Mythology.
AN2 : I really appreciate reviews as I'd love to hear what you thought/any constructive criticism. I reply to all reviews, always. For those of you who are reading my other work, 'The End of All Pretences', I hope to have another chapter up shortly. I apologise about the delay.

Algea

"I love you, Sarah," biting back tears my hand was being clenched by my mother who was openly sobbing as the PICC tube slowly delivered the ever-ready and ever-constant stream of drugs to my sister's sleeping body.
"I love you so much and I'm sorry I haven't told you enough. I'm sorry I hardly talk. I'm sorry I was home drunk when you had friends over. I'm just sorry, just so sorry for everything."

The tears were streaming down my face now, and what the hell did it matter, my sister was lying in a hospital bed with glitter painted on her cheek, her breathing almost non-existent and dying of leukaemia.

I lost the job up the street. I didn't want sex. Mrs Coppoliea didn't want me to clean her pool. I was flat broke, worried about Beth, worried about Sarah and too tired to do anything but pretend to be awake in class and visit the hospital.

Rachel Berry singled him out. She was always going to be the first to comment about anyone skipping practice. Stomping towards Puck, with the glare that left Hudson in a controlled state of almost constant fear fixed on her face, the glint in her eye was manic.

"Noah!" she screeched.
"What, Berry?" fatigue subtracted power and fear from his voice, leaving his tone tired and further angering the furious, shrieking diva.
"Where were you yesterday? How are we supposed to choreograph and plan competition pieces without everyone there? How? Tell me?"

"I had to go, Berry, family stuff. I'll be there tonight."
"Look Noah, I know you care about Beth." Rachel's voice had slowed considerably, and she'd started her usual annoying action wherein she moved her hands as if pushing waves towards you.
"It wasn't Beth" he snarled, cutting her off abruptly and walking away roughly pushing some staring idiot to the side.
"Just be there this afternoon!" she hollered at his retreating back.

He didn't go to Glee or football that afternoon. He received another message from the doctor at lunchtime and drove straight to the hospital. There was a potential scare and fearing they were going to lose her the oncologist has phoned. After it was confirmed Sarah was still breathing the oncologist sat him down to talk.
Her office smelt like artificial violent spray and antiseptic and the wall was covered in college certificates. The bookshelves lined with journals. A limp teddy bear sat forlornly on the desk.

"I'm so sorry about Sarah, Noah but I need you to know we almost lost her today." The oncologist explained, Noah could never remember her name and it's not as if his mother was in a fit state to listen as she sat next to Sarah's bed weeping. "It's just that…" the oncologist stopped abruptly, bit her lip and dipped her head, finding the strength to keep going, "there's very little we can do. It's a very severe case and the chemotherapy isn't really helping. I'm so sorry. She doesn't have long, I'm afraid."
"Wait, you're going to stop trying? You're just going to give up?"
"We're not giving up, Noah. I have a meeting very soon about possible treatments but I've seen cases like Sarah's before. They're very difficult to cure. I'm so sorry."

He could only nod tersely, trying to absorb the words this doctor was saying to him. His head running a thousand miles per hour. He stumbled out of the hospital his head heavy with his pain and the smog of people smoking. There were people dying of cancer inside and people creating cancer on the outside and he felt woozy and suddenly his half-eaten lunch was sitting regurgitated in a plant pot covering the cigarette butts abandoned by too many people to count.

Sitting in his car he was sobbing as he drove, detouring only to an abandoned children's playground where the equipment was rusted and everything cried of lonely desolation. Puck reaped his sorrow on the equipment and he was kicking and screaming and crying and suddenly it all seemed to slow down and shivering set in, the cold pushing its way into his bones. He stood there a shivering, tear-stained mess until his phone vibrated.

1 Message: Finn Hudson:

Where are you dude? Coach+Rach are mad

1 Message: Sam Evans:

You missed Glee Puck? We need you

1 Message: Santana Lopez:

Where are you? They're driving me mad!

17 Messages: Rachel Berry:
(Message 1) Noah? Where are you? Sectionals are coming up and we require all team members to be present for rehearsal. Glee needs you to harmonise and provide a strong and impressive male presence on the stage

Puck closed his phone, ignoring the sixteen other messages Rachel has sent him all surely saying the same thing. Why didn't they just shut up and leave him alone. None of it mattered anymore. None of it, not with Sarah in the hospital just lying there all desolate and alone and ill.

He drove home only to find the apartment abandoned and one ancient packet of instant noodles in the cupboard. Eating them uncooked and crunchy with some crappy sitcom playing on the TV, Puck began to gag. He was crying and the noodles were falling out of his mouth, catching in his throat causing him to cough and dry retch. The canned laughter continued in the background as Noah continued to ignore his texts.

19 messages Rachel Berry.
1 message Santana Lopez
2 messages Quinn Fabray
1 message Finn Hudson
3 messages Mr Schue

He ignored them all. It was the only way to cope with this madness, this insanity that was rising up inside and choking him. The apartment was dark, the TV was quiet and Noah fell asleep with the noodle shards still clinging to the inside of his cheeks, wearing his leather jacket and tear-tracks staining his face.

He slept through first, second and third period the next day. Dragging himself into math and pretending to engage would have been painful enough with his mind flitting to Sarah every other second but the not-so-subtle looks Blaine and Tina were shooting him lead to him leaving the classroom and driving back to the hospital.

He wasn't allowed to see her. They were trying radiation today and as Noah looked at the fragile form of his mother in the hallway before turning away he could almost feel his life breaking down around him.

He drove back to football and ran the laps Beiste assigned, due to missed practice yesterday, until he threw up. Partly from not eating properly, partly from stress and partly because he was running so freaking hard in order to forget.

He showered numbly and dressed in a silent daze and it wasn't until Hudson tapped him quickly on the shoulder and asked,
"Are you coming to Glee, dude? We sorta' need you."

As if Sarah didn't need him? As if his mother didn't need him to snap out of this state and step up as a man? As if he didn't need sleep or food or peace-of-mind for just one moment? They didn't know this though, the Glee Club didn't know so he would smile and laugh and harmonise and grape-vine and then he would go to the hospital and then he'd go home and cry and sleep.

Rinse and Repeat. Except he wasn't thinking about hair products.

"Yeah dude, I'll be there."

Entering the choir room, backpack slung over one shoulder, and sitting down at the back without making eye contact with anyone lead to an awkward silence that Noah ignored by closing his eyes, preferring to concentrate on the stomach muscle pain caused by the horrid mix of 'you-missed-practice-and-I'm-going-to-make-you-pay' training and copious amounts of crying.

Not surprisingly, it was Rachel who broke the silence.
"Where have you been, Noah?" she demanded, pointing directly at him, "you keep missing practice and I don't know how we're going to win Sectionals if you are not fully dedicated. You have to come. It isn't fair."

"Whatever, Berry." Trying to keep his tone slow and nonchalant, Puck raised his head slightly, "I'm here now."

Finn glanced at him, glanced at Rachel and put his head down. There were dark circles under his eyes and Finn knew when something was wrong with Puck, they'd basically grown up together as fatherless, rowdy childhood best friends. Puck would be okay though, he was always alright eventually. It was probably just better to say nothing and let nature take its course; when Puck's dad had left all it had taken was a packet of stolen cupcakes from Finn's kitchen, three hours of silent video-gaming and hug from Carole to make things almost return to normal. He'd be fine, Finn concluded.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to check and leaning over and almost whispering Finn asked,
"You alright, Man?" Puck didn't look up,
"I'm fine, just tired and stuff. It's all fine." He sighed back.

Mr Schue's entrance was accompanied by the usual writing of meaningless words on the white board ("Soulful Expression," for anybody that cared) and the casual, "Good to see you, Puck." This was promptly followed by a seventeen minute and 32 second monologue on the benefits of pilates when preparing to perform Broadway songs by Rachel, followed by vocal exercises in which Puck sang without lustre and Santana interjected nineteen times with deprecating comments towards everyone. Blaine's obligatory dance/bowtie-orientated/sockless performance occurred and Damian's suggestion of actually preparing in advance for competition was rapidly shut down.

It was all meaningless so Puck left the classroom to the half-hearted, quiet repetition of his name by those, whom he was now convinced, only pretended to care about him. Unsurprisingly, his car brought him to the hospital once more.

It was a big, grey, ugly research hospital with the smokers outside and the dying inside and the general atmosphere of depression that was becoming an ever-increasing constant in Puck's life. Riding the now familiar elevator to the paediatric oncology ward was always depressing but there was a relieving lack of judgement whenever anybody was crying.

Noah always took the stairs back down to the lobby though, he didn't want to chance seeing somebody leave the ward cured when he knew, deep down inside, that Sarah never would.

Everything was just the same. Sarah was asleep with the PICC tube drizzling drugs into her body. His mother was clasping her limp hand, there were countless nurses buzzing up and down the corridor and the echoes of another parent's wail from somewhere down the corridor.

This horrible situation had become normality for Puck and he hated it.

He turned to leave as a nurse entered the room. She offered him a weak smile and he realised that not too long ago his sole focus would have been whether he wanted to have sex with her. Now, his mind was on a different plane and he was fighting the urge to vomit all over her. All over everything, really.

He quickly ran to the restroom where he dry-retched for several minutes until he was simply coughing. Emerging from the cubicle he found a man, wearing a crinkled suit and unshaven, crying over the sink. It wasn't an uncommon sight here in the paediatric oncology restroom, just another new, horrible normality in Puck's messed up life.

Figuring he had to eat something he kept walking down the corridor until the volunteer's café came into sight. Accepting donations only, the little old ladies with permed hair served him percolated coffee and a cheese sandwich accompanied with an affectionate pat of his Mohawk. It was one of the few places in the hospital that where slightly less depressing.

He'd never eaten a cheese sandwich carefully prepared by an elderly, hospital volunteer before Sarah was admitted. Now, it was an almost daily occurrence.

As he kicked his chair back and stood up to take his plate back to the counter, no one said Noah Puckerman was horrible to hospital volunteers, a familiar figure stepped in front of him.

"Noah, what are you doing here?" a shocked Kurt Hummel asked.