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Kurt could attest to the fact that one Noah Puckerman had mellowed since he'd joined Glee. He could attest to it by way of fewer slushes to the face, lower dry-cleaning bills, and manicures that actually lasted since he didn't have to use paint thinner on his locker every other day.
Yes, Puck had mellowed, but that in no way meant he'd become the kind of person Kurt wanted to hang out with; the kind of person Kurt could call a friend. Although hot enough to burn like the sun, Puck was just too rough around the edges.
He was a conceited ass, for one. His 'I'm God's gift to women' phase seemed to be more than just a phase. Between the random hookups, the sexting, the eye fucking and the flirting, Puck kind of made it a way of life.
Another point on the con side was how emotionally distanced he kept himself from everything. Romance only existed until the unfortunate young (or old) lady put out. Friendship seemed to last as long as it took him to get whatever it was that he wanted. Family was…well, to the best of Kurt's observations, non-existent.
When Babygate had ended with Baby Girl Fabray-Puckerman adopted out to a loving couple, Quinn had been inconsolable for weeks. Puck, however, wouldn't even acknowledge it. Every time Quinn started tearing up, Puck left the room.
As for the rest of Puck's family, Kurt didn't know about them at all. Most of the Glee kids had introduced their parents during a show or had met them on a get-together at someone's house. But, no one knew Puck's mom or sister.
Finn swore Puck had them; at least he'd had them five years ago. That was when Puck stopped inviting Finn over and they'd taken to hanging out at Finn's place. No one ever came to a show to cheer Puck on. No one ever picked up or dropped Puck off. No one even showed up to Parent Teacher Conferences.
As far as anyone knew, Puck could be raising himself. Kurt had actually spent an inordinate amount of time considering this, and reluctantly considering the ramifications of what having no support might do to one's attitude.
So, given the scarcity of family participation, it was quite a shock to walk into the school building the next year and realize that there was now another Puckerman to contend with.
Sarah Puckerman was 12. She looked like an angel and acted just like the other Puckerman Kurt knew. It was only after careful consideration, (which may have looked something similar to stalking, Kurt later admitted) that a picture of the Puckerman household began to take shape.
Sarah wore flannel. Lots of flannel. Lots of oversized, hideous flannel. And, though one piece of flannel was much like any other, Kurt thought they looked a great deal like something Puck would have worn five years ago. The clothes were always washed and in good repair, but nothing could hide the marks of years worth of wear on the elbows and buttonholes.
Sarah wore her hair in a ponytail. One ponytail. The same ponytail every day. Ponytail for the first day of school; for the first dance; for picture day. Her hair was always clean and tidy, but the style never changed, regardless of the event. Kurt looked at Puck's horrible mohawk in a new light.
Sarah carried a utilitarian black bag for her schoolbooks. No Hannah Montana, no Justin Bieber, not a speck of glitter or fake rhinestones anywhere. It actually looked a great deal like the bag Puck had carried last year. The one he wasn't carrying this year because he'd apparently elected just not to take any homework home this year; but Kurt was sure he'd seen Puck pull his gym clothes out of a Wal-Mart bag one day.
Sarah also brown bagged it for lunch every day. Literally. A brown bag. Kurt knew that couldn't be sanitary. It was one thing to bring a lunch in an insulated lunch bag, but lunch in a regular paper bag should have given her botulism by now. Then, Kurt noticed that Puck had stopped getting his daily slush; Sarah started getting a fresh milk and a fruit cup from the cafeteria to go with her sandwich.
Sarah didn't seem to have a lot of friends, so she sat by herself at lunchtime; but she never seemed lonely. She read a book everyday as she ate, which Kurt felt put her a step ahead of her brother.
She seemed to have a very specific order to her actions as well, unlike her hotheaded, impetuous brother. However, Kurt had watched her for days before he realized there was one more step in her meal ritual than first appeared. She sat at a table, cleared it with just a look (an ability she shared with her brother), pulled out her sandwich and arranged it with her milk and fruit cup on an open napkin.
What Kurt had missed thus far was that she placed the empty bag directly in front of her, ran a finger down it, and smiled before getting out her book and beginning to read. Curiosity was killing him. He had to know what the hell that was about.
He took the long way around to dump his tray one day, cutting through the cafeteria and past the table Sarah had commandeered for her own. She was so deeply engrossed in her book that she didn't even notice him pause behind her to get a better look at the bag. Drawn on it was a double diamond surrounding the letters 'SD', and the words 'I love you' scrawled over the top of it.
He understood the 'I love you' part. His mom had sometimes sent him to school with those kinds of notes in his lunch box, too. It was a sweet reminder that Kurt missed greatly. But, though it seemed familiar, he had no idea what the drawing was. It tickled on the edge of his memory and nearly drove him to distraction.
After days of wracking his brain, he'd just about put it out of his mind, resigned to never knowing. He'd been sitting in History a short time later, when he realized he'd left his notebook back in his locker. Though it was just as the first class bell rang, teachers generally held Kurt in high standing, so Mr. Strom had no problem sending Kurt off to retrieve it, hall pass in hand.
As he headed into the hall that contained his locker, he heard voices. Normally, he wouldn't think twice about continuing on past; curiosity generally got the cat slushed around McKinley. However, someone was crying. Kurt sneaked up to the corner and carefully poked his head out. To his surprise, it was Puck and his sister.
Sarah was crying, sobs causing her body to jerk even as she pressed into her brother's chest. Puck had his arms wrapped around her and was rocking her gently. His eyes were closed, and Kurt had never seen such a pained look on Puck's face before, not even during Babygate. Puck rubbed a calming hand up and down Sarah's back, whispering words Kurt couldn't hear and every so often, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of Sarah's head.
Kurt knew he should turn around and head back to class; tell the teacher that he couldn't find the notebook; leave these two to their privacy. But he could only stare in slightly starry-eyed wonder at the tender way Puck comforted his sister. Eventually, the sobs stopped and the tears dried—with a little help from the hem of Puck's shirt—and Sarah pulled away, looking so small without the secure bulk of her brother's body protecting her.
Puck said something, too low for Kurt to catch, and Sarah nodded, turning towards the girls' bathroom, presumably to make herself presentable again. As she turned, Puck's hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She glanced up at him curiously, but allowed him to pull her back.
Puck bent over and rooted momentarily through her—their?—bag, coming up with a sharpie marker. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and wrote something on Sarah's forearm. Finished, he capped the pen and dropped it back in the bag before turning to his sister with a smile. Sarah looked up at him, tears re-gathering in her eyes, but a brilliant smile on her face.
Puck blushed. Really, truly, turning-pink-around-the-ears blushed, and pushed her gently toward the bathroom. Kurt ducked back around the corner and ran halfway down the hallway before turning and sauntering jauntily back. He met Puck halfway there and nodded politely to him. Puck just raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes and continued past without a word.
At lunchtime, Kurt searched for Sarah in the cafeteria crowd. He found her seated at her regular table, all traces of tears gone from her face, and reading intently. The black marker was visible on her arm, but from a distance, Kurt still couldn't make it out. Determined, he stood up and wound his way through the tables to stop in front of her.
He stood there for several seconds before Sarah raised her gaze from her book, and Kurt was struck momentarily breathless at her brother's green eyes staring out from under her raised brows.
"Can I help you?" she asked coolly, placing a finger in her book to hold her place as she closed it.
Kurt smiled and sat down, ignoring her irritated huff. "Hi," he said, extending his hand across the table. "I'm Kurt Hummel." His hand hung out in space, looked at, but not touched for long moments. Then, carefully, she extended her own hand and clasped his in a quick shake.
"Yeah," she replied slowly, "I've heard of you." Kurt could only imagine what she'd heard, coming from her brother. He just nodded though, and situated himself more comfortably on the chair. "Not to be rude," she drawled, obviously intending just that, "But what the hell do you want?"
Kurt grinned. "You sound exactly like him."
At that, her brow rose again. "Him?"
"Your brother."
"Ah." She nodded, tensing up a little. "And you know Noah, how?"
Kurt shrugged. "We have Glee together. And football. And he threw me into dumpsters for about five years." Kurt could see the wariness return to Sarah's face as she sat up a little straighter. "It's okay," he reassured her, reaching out to pat her arm. "He's mostly over that. Nowadays, he's more likely to stop them than anything."
Sarah just stared at his hand on her arm until he moved it. "That's great," she said, blandly. "Now, back to what the hell you want?"
"Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself." He smiled winningly.
"Okay." Her expression indicated she thought he might have escaped from the Resource Room. "You've introduced yourself. Now what?"
Kurt glanced down at her arm, and checked his next sentence. Drawn on Sarah's arm was a double diamond with 'SD' in the center. His whole world shifted at that moment, and it took him a moment to realize that Sarah had jerked her arm against her chest and was speaking.
"—hell are you looking at?"
Kurt blinked slowly, and then raised his eyes to meet hers again. "What is that?" He couldn't help himself. The words just slipped out of his mouth as though no one had ever taught him manners at all.
"Why do you want to know?" Sarah demanded, defensively.
"Uh…" Kurt shook his head slightly, trying to focus back on the conversation at hand, even as his mind spun in circles—Puck drew the picture on Sarah's arm. The picture was the same as on her bag. The bag that said 'I love you'. The same 'I love you' that was written on her lunch every day.—"It just looks really familiar. I can't seem to place it." He forced a smile.
Sarah eyed him suspiciously, but eventually shrugged. "It's Scooby Doo's collar tag," she said. Well, duh. Now that she'd said it, he could have slapped himself for not recognizing it.
"Why do you have Scooby's collar tag drawn on your arm?" He gave a small laugh, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand.
Sarah pulled her arm even closer, holding it protectively against her. "It's just a thing my brother does." Her chin pointed up and her eyes narrowed, suddenly fiercely defiant.
"So, do you two watch it together or something?" Kurt continued to attempt nonchalance.
Sarah shrugged one shoulder. "We used to. Before mom sold the TV."
Kurt blinked again. "Sold the TV?"
"Yeah. Sold the TV. For money. Some people do that." She looked faintly disgusted, but Kurt couldn't tell if it was with his nosiness or from what she'd said.
"That's cool that you could do that with your big brother." He decided to pretend the last 15 seconds hadn't just happened. "I don't have a brother. It's just me and my dad, and he's more of a Discovery Channel or an ESPM kind of guy."
Sarah's lip raised in a tiny smirk. "It's ESPN, actually.
Kurt rolled his eyes comically. "It's sports. That makes it another language for me."
Sarah gifted him with a chuckle. "Noah's says he's all about ESPN, but I think he'd rather watch the Discovery Channel, too." She loosened up a little, her arm resting more on the table and less vigilantly against her chest.
"He borrows all sorts of science books from the library. He used to come home with movies he checked out, too. Course, they'd usually be some boring documentary." She snorted. "Every now and then, though, he'd bring home whatever Scooby movie they had."
Kurt saw the moment she realized she was spilling her guts to a total stranger. Her face clouded over and she quickly shoved the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. "So, what does it mean?" he asked, softly.
Sarah chewed vigorously, glaring across the table at him. When she finished chewing, she drank the rest of her milk, slamming the carton down and wiping the milk moustache off with her wrist. Kurt didn't even wince. He just continued watching her, smiling slightly.
Eventually, Sarah caved. She sighed and slumped minutely. "Noah used to tell me I could grow up and hunt ghosts and stuff with Scooby. I was young," she said, defensively. Kurt just nodded. She sighed again. "He told me I could be Sarry Doo. That's what he called me. Sarry."
Kurt felt something warm unfurl in his chest. "That's really sweet," he said, quietly.
"Yeah, well…whatever." Sarah abruptly stood and began cramming her garbage into her lunch bag. "I gotta go."
Kurt nodded and stood as well. "Okay. It was really nice to meet you, Sarah."
Sarah eyed him guardedly at first, but then gave a brief nod. "Yeah. You too." And she was gone. Kurt sank back down into his chair and stayed lost in thought until the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
It wasn't until the end of the day that Puck confronted him, cornering him in Glee. The others looked on in confusion as Puck snatched Kurt up by the arm and dragged him out into the hall. Kurt waved off an angry Finn who leaped to his feet at Puck's rough treatment.
Once in the hall, Puck slammed Kurt up against a locker by his collar and leaned down to growl into Kurt's face. "Why the fuck are you bothering my sister?"
Kurt couldn't tell if he was short of breath from the stranglehold Puck had on his shirt, or just from Puck. Either way, he chose not to say anything until Puck shook him once like an angry dog and then dropped Kurt onto his feet. Puck took a step back and tried to calm down as Kurt smoothed out his wrinkled shirt.
"I wasn't aware I was bothering her," Kurt replied, smoothly. "I thought we had a lovely conversation."
Puck stepped forward threateningly again. "Why were you having a conversation with her at all?"
"I noticed she had some interesting artwork on her arm. I asked her about it." Kurt cocked his head to the side and watched with interest at the second blush of the day from a guy he'd thought incapable of embarrassment.
"What the fuck does it matter to you what she has on her arm?" Puck poked him in the chest with one finger, hard.
Kurt shrugged. "It didn't matter. I was just curious."
Puck bared his teeth. "Well, get uncurious. And stay that way, got it?" Puck gave Kurt one final nasty glare and spun around to head back into the music room.
"She calls you Noah," Kurt called softly after him.
Puck came to a screeching halt and his hands clenched at his sides. "That's because she's my sister and it's my name."
Kurt smiled. "I like it." Puck snorted. "I bet it suits you a lot better when it's just you and her." Puck turned back around and lowered his head like a bull.
"I don't know what you think you got on me now, Hummel, but I—"
"I don't have anything on you." Kurt shook his head. "I think what you do for Sarah is wonderful. Very caring and beautiful."
Puck looked incredulous. "Beautiful?"
Kurt grinned. "Yeah. It's a word. It means—"
"I fucking know what beautiful means, Hummel," Puck snapped.
Kurt stared thoughtfully at him, watching until Puck started fidgeting slightly. "Yeah," he said, eventually. "I think you really might. And that's…kind of scary and kind of awesome."
Puck frowned in confusion. Kurt took the opportunity to maneuver past him back to the music room. On the way by, he lightly touched Puck on the arm, right where Puck had drawn the Scooby tag on his sister's arm, and whispered, "It's nice to meet you…Noah."