And just like that, Puck's whole world crumbled around him for what seemed like the millionth fucking time. Blaine was dead. Blaine had killed himself... He hadn't saved him. He hadn't been enough. None of them had. It was fucking over and there wasn't a goddamn thing Puck could do about it but stand here looking at Mercedes in shock... Or... maybe it wasn't shock so much as heartbreak. As broken as Blaine had been, it wasn't really surprising that he'd choose to end his own life. If it could even be called a life after he'd lost Kurt. "B... Blaine..." Puck murmured, shaking his head and raising his hand to his head, pressing his thumb and middle finger against his temples. "Mercedes, no... He killed... He killed himself? No."
How the hell could this be happening? Why the fuck could the universe just give them a fucking break... And not like some stupid island that you went to for an undetermined amount of time, only to go back eventually. A break where maybe for once life didn't keep turning out so fucking horrible and biting you in the ass. "No, 'Cedes... It's not a dream. It's not a fucking dream, and it's too late. Blaine's..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't say that Blaine was dead. He couldn't let himself fucking accept it, because when he'd left, Blaine had been alive. Miserable, and in constant pain emotionally, but alive. And now he was just dead?
Puck shook his head. "No," he said, suddenly embracing her, because she needed it, and honestly, so did she. "No. You're... You're still there, 'Cedes. You're there and you're here. I know it sounds crazy, but if and when you go back, you'll be right were you were before you came here... And you won't ever remember being here. Blaine's..." Funeral? Burial? Those were some other words that Puck couldn't bring himself to say just yet. "Blaine's stuff'll be taken care of. Burt... Burt'll take care of him. We will take care of him."
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How the hell could this be happening? Why the fuck could the universe just give them a fucking break... And not like some stupid island that you went to for an undetermined amount of time, only to go back eventually. A break where maybe for once life didn't keep turning out so fucking horrible and biting you in the ass. "No, 'Cedes... It's not a dream. It's not a fucking dream, and it's too late. Blaine's..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't say that Blaine was dead. He couldn't let himself fucking accept it, because when he'd left, Blaine had been alive. Miserable, and in constant pain emotionally, but alive. And now he was just dead?
Puck shook his head. "No," he said, suddenly embracing her, because she needed it, and honestly, so did she. "No. You're... You're still there, 'Cedes. You're there and you're here. I know it sounds crazy, but if and when you go back, you'll be right were you were before you came here... And you won't ever remember being here. Blaine's..." Funeral? Burial? Those were some other words that Puck couldn't bring himself to say just yet. "Blaine's stuff'll be taken care of. Burt... Burt'll take care of him. We will take care of him."