Author's Note: Hi guys! I'm addicted to Glee and I decided to give my try at a one-shot. The characters are a bit-okay really OOC in this story, but I hope you enjoy it anyways! This is actually based loosely off a true story of one night I had this year when some of my friends got really drunk and I stayed up all night taking care of them... haha.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of the characters.

Pairings: TinaxMike (PuckxTina if you squint)

Summary: After a night of too much partying, Mike and Brittany are wasted and Santana and Puck are useless, leaving Tina to care for everyone. But Tina's sick and cold, and needs a friend to warm her up.

It all starts after McKinley beats Whitney in football. After the explosion of excitement and the screams and the pictures and the hugs and everybody rushing the field and the oh my God is this really happening McKinley never wins oh my God oh my God sentiment has settled in and leaves everyone—especially the football players, but just anyone (whether it be parent, student, or teacher) with even a single ounce of McKinley pride—feeling warm and content and satisfied, like nothing could go wrong in the world... that's when it starts.

It's Santana's idea, of course. Well Puck contributes and persuades her to follow through with it, but they all meet at Santana's house for the after party. Santana's parents are gone for the weekend and her house is the perfect place for everyone to kick back. Puck unloads bottles of vodka and crates of beer and Santana grabs Mike's Hard Lemonade from the basement and even prissy, prima donna Miss Rachel Berry—after claiming that she would never, ever drink after the Ke$ha incident brings some bottles from her dads' wine collection. It's a celebration, after all it's a Friday night, and with football season over and McKinley having won, a good party is needed and one night to get trashed isn't that big of a deal. Puck would have the party at his house if his mother wasn't home—"Guys, that shit's just not kosher if your mom is there"—but Santana's house is open so everyone just wants to get wasted there.

It's about 2:30 in the morning—Saturday now—when the party has died down. Everybody has left except for Tina, Puck, Brittany, Santana, and Mike. Rachel—"I may have provided alcohol, but that in no way means I have to drink it"—and Finn, who reluctantly agreed to be designated driver as long as Mike did it next time—are long gone, having driven the rest of the gang home. Tina lies pathetically on Santana's couch wrapped in a blanket, her face turned away from the rest of the group—she's been sick this past week with the flu, and she coughs miserably. Mike had promised he would take her home right after the game, but she didn't want to ruin her boyfriend's fun—and now there is no way he is driving her back in his state.

Puck is sprawled back in an armchair after having downed shot after shot, and he hums deliriously to himself as Santana sits in his lap. Brittany whimpers softly and rests her head on Mike's shoulder from where they sit on the same couch Tina is on—Artie wanted to take Brittany home but in his intoxicated state, he couldn't manage to get anything out, and Santana had protested—well in her angry drunk phase, had fought, saying that Brittany could spend the night and had so many times so why didn't Artie just back off and let her stay?

Tina watches from her blanket as Mike and Brittany breathe quietly—one side of her is painfully jealous and she wants the ex-cheerleader off of her boyfriend, but they're not touching more than just leaning and she's too sick and tired to move. For that reason, she only had a few sips of beer, and though her head is pounding and she has a slight headache, it's probably due more to her sickness than anything else. She looks up at Puck and Santana whose eyes are closed, and thinks things are alright.

That's when it happens.

Mike's eyes roll back in his head and his body convulses. Tina watches in horror as pinkish vomit spews out of his mouth and into his lap, the couch, Brittany's hair. With a moan, Mike's head falls back and he gets ready to heave again when Tina breaks out, "Santana!"

In a flash, Puck and Santana are up—which reminds Tina that they must do this much more often than the rest of the crew. Santana pulls Brittany up off of Mike's lap while Puck grabs the convulsing Mike and runs to the bathroom, shouting, "Hang on, dude! Don't hurl on me—so not cool!"

Santana supports Brittany's limp figure and pulls her to the bathroom as well, Tina hot on her heels in spite of her cough and slight nausea.

The bathroom is like a war zone. A puke-filled, alcohol stench war zone and Tina closes her eyes and tries to tell herself that she will never, ever get drunk and wasted even though she knows it's a long shot and so not true. Puck is supporting the heaving Mike over the toilet and somewhat tenderly? (thinks Tina with a smirk), rubbing his shoulders as he pukes up everything. Tina knew she should have stopped her boyfriend from drinking that much—Mike tends to think he's invincible and Tina remembers being in this exact situation before.

"Let me take over," Tina whispers, and Puck looks relieved.

"Thanks Tina, I'm going to go clean up." Puck heads out of the bathroom with a roll of paper towels and Tina is praying to God that her boyfriend didn't mess up the Lopez upholstery too badly. She kneels on the floor trying to support Mike's bigger frame, trying to block out the stench of his vomit. She strokes his back as his body falls slack, and holds him up, in spite of the strength it takes from her. She looks to the left of the toilet where the sink is where Santana helping Brittany wash her hair.

Brittany is wailing, and Tina can't blame her—she is covered with Mike's puke after all. She hears Brittany yelping, but Mike's whimpers draw Tina's attention, and she puts all her focus back on him.

"S-s-so sorry, babe," Mike whispers, as he leans back over the toilet to hurl.

Tina flushes, matter of factly and kisses the side of Mike's forehead, which is hot and almost sweaty. "It's okay, we all do stupid things."

Brittany glances over at Mike and in a stupid, thick voice, she asks, "Mike, why did you do that?"

Mike looks back with sheepish, ashamed eyes. "I don't know," he ends in a whine and goes back to heaving, but nothing comes out. Tina refrains from laughing but the whole exchange is hysterical.

Puck comes back to the bathroom holding a bagful of soiled paper towels. "Hey Santana, where do I throw these out?"

"Give me that," says Santana matter-of-factly, taking the bag and telling Puck to take care of Brittany. Tina is impressed at how composed both Santana and Puck are—neither of them have managed to lose it in spite of how much alcohol they downed. Maybe they're already sobering up?

"Hey, hey, you good?" Puck asks Brittany gently, and she nods.

"I just have throw-up in my hair," she wails, to which Mike replies in a even more desperate voice, "I am so sorry."

"It's okay, let me help you out," Puck tells her, and scooping her up in his arms, he brings her back to Santana's family room to sit on the couch. He comes in soon after to help Mike out, leaving Tina sitting on the cold tile floor of Santana's bathroom. Puck returns, "You good, Tina? Need a boost? It's okay here—I'm sorry everything went so far..."

"No, I'm good," Tina says, about to pick herself up when they hear Mike yell, "Guys!"

Puck and Tina run out and see Brittany throwing up all over the couch—on the side Mike hadn't puked on.

"Shit!" Puck yells, and pulls Brittany up, "No, Brittany, God—just wait until we get to the bathroom, shitshitshit!"

Tina follows because Mike has closed his eyes, and despite how creased his forehead is and how much she's worried about him, she figures Puck might need help with Brittany.

"It's okay," Puck is comforting Brittany as he rubs her shoulders. Brittany just nods and pukes, crouched in the same position that Mike was just before. "It's okay, nice and easy, Britt."

"What happened?" Santana comes into the bathroom and sees Brittany to which Tina replies, "Brittany puked."

"Oh shit," Santana says, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and preparing to go clean. She is almost hit then by Mike, who runs back into the bathroom to throw up all in the sink—thank God it's not Brittany's hair again, is all Tina can think. "Damn it," Santana whines walking back out to her family room to clean up the couch.

"Tina," Puck says strangely calmly, and Tina hopes he doesn't throw up as well. "Tina I need to make sure that if either of them puke, you have to make sure they're not lying upright or else they'll choke on it."

"O-okay," Tina stammers, a little shocked. She's gotten drunk before, yes, and she knows this for the most part, but she doesn't know what she's doing—she's always the person people are taking care of, not the other way around and she doesn't know what to do and—

Mike dry heaves. Tina's body is suddenly racks with cough and she coughs sporadically as she rubs her boyfriend's shoulder and tries to shush him. She imitates Puck, "It's okay Mike, I love you, come on, slow, there we go." She wipes back his damp hair from his sweaty, heated forehead.

"I'm so stupid," he mutters miserably, crumbling to the floor. Tina gets down next to him. "It's okay, it's okay." She shudders to imagine what her mom would think. Thankfully Mrs. Cohen-Chang thinks Tina is spending the night at Mercedes's house; her mother's good impressions of Mike as a good, strong, Asian boy would be dashed if she were here, but people make mistakes and Tina knows that and she loves Mike.

"Thanks, Tina," Mike murmurs groggily, his eyes fluttering.

"Tina, I need you to do something," Puck continues rubbing Brittany's back. "I need to help Santana clean up the puke; that shit's gonna be hard to get out of the couch and carpet—do you think you can watch Brittany and Mike for awhile on your own?"

No. No. No, are you crazy? "Yeah, sure. I can take care of them."

"Yeah, thanks Tina, appreciate it," Puck grunts. He helps drag Mike to the toilet where Brittany has now laid her face down on the tile. Tina shudders as she imagines how filthy the bathroom is and the floor is, but Brittany weakly whimpers and Tina decides that the dirtiness is probably the last thing on Brittany's mind.

"No problem," Tina says uncertainly.

Puck hands her a aluminum bottle of water he fills up at the sink. "Make sure they stay hydrated."

Five minutes of silence and Tina starts coughing. She really needs some cough drops or something—and then Brittany starts throwing up. Tina comforts her as Brittany's body shakes. She holds up Brittany's long, blonde hair thinks to herself that this is what friends do. They need to stick together, even when some of them go too far—but friends aren't here to judge, they're here to help pick up the pieces.

Brittany's gagging starts Mike up, and they're both puking, and Tina's surprised that she hasn't become nauseous. Her focus is to make sure they get through the night alive and she makes the decision right then and there that it doesn't matter if she stays up all night—she's going to take care of Brittany and Mike.

Time passes, and Brittany and Mike have passed out on the cold linoleum. Tina checks her watch—oh God, 4:45? It's been about 2 hours since everything started... where is Puck and where is Santana? Brittany is shivering and Mike is shaking and Tina gets worried.

"T-tina?" Mike's teeth chatter, "I'm so cold."

"Shh, I'll get you a blanket," Tina promises a little stupidly, and stumbling out of the bathroom, she searches Santana's house. The best she can find is a towel, and thinking to herself, she grabs her black coat. She returns to the bathroom to spread the towel over Mike and her coat on top of Brittany. Determined to find Santana to find better covers for her friends, Tina goes back into Santana's family room. Passed out on the couch is Puck, who is snoring. Tina contemplates waking him for several seconds—she could use some help with Mike and Brittany, whose bodies have basically become blocks of cement—but she decides to focus on finding Santana instead.

Santana's house is a one-story so it's not difficult to find Santana passed out on her bed. A little frustrated, Tina taps Santana softly.

"Wha-" Santana begins, but she collapses again.

Tina gives up, and finds another thin blanket in Santana's room. Returning to the bathroom, she spreads it over her motionless boyfriend and friend and sits back down on the tile, determined to stay up to make sure they're okay.

She doesn't know how long she slept for, but her watch now says 5:30, so maybe 15 minutes? Mike is starting to stir again and Brittany whimpers to herself.

"Tina..." Mike mutters, "f-floor hurts my ribs."

"Are you going to puke anymore?" Tina asks skeptically.

"No," Mike murmurs. "No more... just want to sleep."

"You wanna go out then?" Tina asks, and her boyfriend's arm is an answer. She helps his stumbling figure out of the bathroom and back onto the couch which he originally soiled. Tina sees that someone—Puck? Santana?—flipped the cushions so that the clean bottom sides are now on top, and Mike collapses on the couch. She brings Brittany out for that matter, and pulls the blankets over them.

She is so tired. So unbelievably tired and her head hurts and she's nauseous and before she knows what she's doing she's back in Santana's bedroom. Santana doesn't say anything, but rolls over to the other side of her bed so that Tina can fit in as well. And Tina gets under Santana's covers and closes her eyes and welcomes a much-needed sleep.

That's when Tina starts shaking.

She doesn't know quite what's going on but she's so cold and her teeth are chattering and her limbs are flailing and she's so cold but her head's so hot and God she's so cold. Subconsciously, she hears Santana whispering to her, asking if she's okay, but all she keeps saying is, "I'm so cold, I'm so cold."

Tina hears Santana leave and return with more blankets, covering her with them. She feels Santana pull her body close and attempt to run her arms over Tina's body to generate warmth but Tina is so cold. "Shh, Tina, it's okay," Santana is murmuring, but Tina's not okay, she's just so cold and she just wants to be warm. She knows she shouldn't be cold—there's a mountain of blankets on top of her and Santana is sweating but Tina is shaking and she's cold.

"Can you..." Tina's voice trails off.

"Can I what, babe?" Santana asks her sweetly. "What can I get you honey?"

And Tina is surprised because Santana is always a bitch but maybe she feels bad that Tina was in the bathroom helping out for hours on her own and Tina is so cold so she just allows the words to come out. "Can you get someone warm?" her teeth chatter, "I need someone warm. Can you get Mike... Mike, please?"

She doesn't hear a reply but she feels the bed shift and a bigger figure returns and Tina is so glad it's Mike, it's Mike come to keep her warm and snuggle and—

It's not Mike. The figure who climbs into bed does not have Mike's smell and is not lean and muscular at the same time but has more well-defined biceps and is bigger and does not immediately pull her into an embrace.

"Shh, Tina," comes a rougher voice and Tina is scared. She smells the alcohol coming off the person's breath and in her delirious state she sees buzzed hair and—oh my God it's Puck.

"Santana and I tried to awaken Mike but your boyfriend's dead to the world, Tina. But Santana told me you're cold and nothing she can do will get you warm and I'm sorry I'm not Mike..."

Tina wants to cry, she wants to get out of bed and leave because this is not her boyfriend and it doesn't feel right and it's not right to be in Santana Lopez's bed with Puck of all people and—her body convulses and she shakes and she is so cold and—

She feels big arms grip her, not gently like the way Mike does but not too roughly either, and she feels a warm body pull her in close to him. Puck pulls her in and wraps himself around her like a cocoon and he rubs her arms and tries to get her warm. And Puck is warmer than Santana for sure, but Tina shivers again, and the whole bed shakes. She can't stop shaking and Puck continues to pull her in and wrap himself around her.

Tina tries to pull away, but Puck pulls her back and whispers directly into her ear, his breath hot and warm. "Tina, I'm not going to pull anything on you—you're sick and you love Mike and I'm not going to mess up with your Asian love circle as gross as it is sometime. Just let me get you warm. It's okay, I've got you."

And he does just that, pulls her in closer and hugs her and pulls the blanket over her. He holds her as she shakes and shivers and cries.

"I'm sorry," Tina whimpers deliriously. She's silent for about thirty seconds and then repeats herself, "I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry," Puck says, and when he speaks there's almost a pleading quality in his tone. "Don't say sorry, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Sorry," Tina says it again, a little more pitifully this time.

"Your fever just spiked... at a really bad time," Puck says awkwardly, trying to get her warm. She's terrifying him, quaking like she's just emerged from a bathtub of ice cubes rather than being swamped in a pile of blankets. He's sweating and it's insanely hot under these covers, but Tina can't stop shivering and he's not going to stop holding her until she gets warm. He doesn't care if she says "sorry" ten billion times, he's here for her and he's going to make sure she's alright.

Tina doesn't know how long it has been when she wakes up, but she awakes to an unfamiliar body next to hers and breath that smells like alcohol and a boy with deep set eyes and long eyelashes and thick eyebrows.

Gasping in shock, she shifts her body away from Puck, and the slight movement causes Puck to groan, releasing a small noise of complaint. He pulls her deeper into her arms. He doesn't wake up, but holds harder onto her.

A small noise of discomfort escapes before she can stop it, and Tina shifts. Puck's eyes flutter open and it seems immediately that he jumps back.

"Sorry Tina—so sorry. You were just really cold last night and I was trying to get you warm—I'll go get Mike."

"Here already," comes a voice, and Tina looks up, mortified, to see Brittany, Santana, and Mike standing in the doorway. "What exactly was going-"

"So sorry dude," Puck raises up his arms in defense. "I tried to wake you up but you were so drunk and you smelled like shit and your girlfriend was quaking like a volcano about to erupt because she was so cold and she needed to get warm. I wasn't hitting on your girl in any way, I am so sorry-"

Tina bursts into tears.

Mike's expression softens and Puck's eyes widen. Santana grabs some tissues and Brittany looks like she's five.

"Can we just all not say anything about this?" Santana buts in, as soon as Mike is sitting in Santana's bed, soothing Tina. "Tina, thanks for taking care of everyone last night. Mike, nobody was trying to hit on your girl—you were just too stupid and wasted to take care of her, so Puck stepped in. I'm sorry I passed out on you Tina," she apologizes, "I shouldn't have left you alone. You're sick too."

"'s okay," Tina murmurs, glad to be back in the arms of her boyfriend.

"And by the way, Tina," Santana smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I forgot to tell you—sleeping with Puck is like sleeping with a five year old. Like, Puck is a five year old."

"Fuck you," Puck spits out, resentfully.

Tina smiles, and scoots in closer to Mike, who slings his arms over her shoulder and kisses her forehead. That explains the cuddling.

Fin. A bit of a pointless story so I apologize, but I just wanted to put Puck in a situation in which he had to help out someone-just as a friend. :)