He tried not think about all that much; he had enough shit going on right now without adding deadbeat-and-crazy daddy issues on top of it all. Except the universe has already proven that Puck has really bad luck, so of course it has to strike again. Of course.
Kurt was pinned to the wall. Kurt was pinned to the wall by their guidance counselor, who also had ink-black eyes and a creepy as all fuck smirk. His feet weren't on the floor. She was only using one hand.
There was just so much wrong in this scene.
Everyone was screaming, but Puck couldn't really hear them over the roaring in his own ears. Kurt was crying out in pain; he was hurting. Ms. Pillsbury was hurting him, but some weird impulse thing told him that while it may look like their OCD guidance counselor, it wasn't actually her. The maniacal laughing, the shrill and biting taunts, the impossible strength – Puck's mind flashed right back to that night under the stars with his dad's journal.
He didn't even know he was shouting something until Ms. Pillsbury – but she wasn't Ms. Pillsbury; she was a demon – flinched away. Kurt hit the floor in a painful heap, and he stayed their, half curled up like a little kid on a stormy night. And it...pissed Puck off. Because Kurt was hurt. Because this thing had come into their school and possessed their guidance counselor, who was a nice lady, and then hurt Kurt.
The demon stepped towards Puck, growling something about squashing him like it had his father, but Puck didn't stop repeating the Hebrew exorcism. Didn't stop and didn't stop and didn't stop, until Ms. Pillsbury's head snapped back and black smoke tore out of her mouth. She fell to the floor, and the thump was loud in the abrupt silence.
Puck checked her pulse on his way towards Kurt. She was breathing, and thank God, so was Kurt.
They were alright. Alright-ish.
Puck had saved the goddamn day.
iv. Reckoning
After Puck had made sure that Kurt got home okay, he headed straight home. His mom was waiting for him, two cups of coffee laid out in front of her. His dad's journal was by her elbow, along with a gun and some bullets that looked like read silver.
Glee/SPN: A Father's Journal [3/3]
He tried not think about all that much; he had enough shit going on right now without adding deadbeat-and-crazy daddy issues on top of it all. Except the universe has already proven that Puck has really bad luck, so of course it has to strike again. Of course.
Kurt was pinned to the wall. Kurt was pinned to the wall by their guidance counselor, who also had ink-black eyes and a creepy as all fuck smirk. His feet weren't on the floor. She was only using one hand.
There was just so much wrong in this scene.
Everyone was screaming, but Puck couldn't really hear them over the roaring in his own ears. Kurt was crying out in pain; he was hurting. Ms. Pillsbury was hurting him, but some weird impulse thing told him that while it may look like their OCD guidance counselor, it wasn't actually her. The maniacal laughing, the shrill and biting taunts, the impossible strength – Puck's mind flashed right back to that night under the stars with his dad's journal.
He didn't even know he was shouting something until Ms. Pillsbury – but she wasn't Ms. Pillsbury; she was a demon – flinched away. Kurt hit the floor in a painful heap, and he stayed their, half curled up like a little kid on a stormy night. And it...pissed Puck off. Because Kurt was hurt. Because this thing had come into their school and possessed their guidance counselor, who was a nice lady, and then hurt Kurt.
The demon stepped towards Puck, growling something about squashing him like it had his father, but Puck didn't stop repeating the Hebrew exorcism. Didn't stop and didn't stop and didn't stop, until Ms. Pillsbury's head snapped back and black smoke tore out of her mouth. She fell to the floor, and the thump was loud in the abrupt silence.
Puck checked her pulse on his way towards Kurt. She was breathing, and thank God, so was Kurt.
They were alright. Alright-ish.
Puck had saved the goddamn day.
iv. Reckoning
After Puck had made sure that Kurt got home okay, he headed straight home. His mom was waiting for him, two cups of coffee laid out in front of her. His dad's journal was by her elbow, along with a gun and some bullets that looked like read silver.
"So," she said. "What do you want to know?"