"…I will go to the grave swearing it's Finn's." And really, Quinn planned on doing just that. But when she's on her deathbed at forty-four, plans change and she reveals to her daughter that Finn wasn't really her dad, thus triggering Addy Anderson's quest through Lima to find her father.

OOOOOOO

The twenty-seven-year-old blond sat at her mother's bedside, stroking her hand gently. She began talking, as she always did, though she wasn't sure her mother could hear her. "Lindsay's having a great time in ballet. Her first recital's coming up soon, Mom. She can't wait." Addy looked for a sign. A barely-noticeable-but-still-there batting of the eyelashes, a twitch of her pale fingers on the not-too-much-paler sheets.

Pale. The entire room was the same shade of ghostly white. The walls, the floor, the bed, her dying mother lying on the bed. Even the snow outside the window and the cloudy sky were pale.

Pale, pale, pale.

"Clyde said he wants to take me out to dinner sometime soon. Breadstix." She smiled. "Didn't you say that place was around when you and Dad were kids?"

Groggily, her mother's eyes opened. "Dad."

"Hey! You're awake." Addy patted her mother's hand again. "Are you thirsty or hungry or anything?"

"Your dad."

Addy flinched. Her dad had been gone years. Nine of them. Nine years. He'd never met his granddaughter, hadn't been there to walk his daughter down the aisle. "Yeah…?"

"Finn Hudson."

"That's him."

"Is not."

"What?"

"It's not Finn."

Quinn Hudson's eyes stared up at the ceiling, past her daughter.

"What?" She's sick. She's sick and delusional and Finn Hudson is your dad and she doesn't know what she's talking about.

"Thunderclap. 2009. Your dad's in there. Glee. 2009. Thunderclap. Glee." She repeated it as though it had been rehearsed over and over, but never performed until now.

"M-mom? Mom? Mom?" Quinn's eyes had fluttered shut. The machines connected to her began beeping and whirring. "Mom? Mom?" Addy knew it was coming. But she didn't think it would be so soon. "Mommy?" A single tear slipped down her face.

OOOOOOOO

Three weeks later, everything was said and done. The funeral, a blur of black and "I'm sorrys" had come and gone, as had casseroles and flowers and the awful memories it brought black of Finn Hudson's funeral nine years earlier. If it hadn't been for Clyde and Lindsay, Addy would've been completely alone.

"Eat." Her husband reached out, grabbing her hand in his.

"Clyde, I'm really not hungry. It looks delicious…" Really, it did look pretty appetizing. "…But I'm just not in the mood for anything."

Little Lindsay played with her food. "Mommy!" she called. "No clean plate club for you!" The little girl giggled.

Trying to hold back tears, Addy plucked her little girl from her chair. "I love you, Lindsay." She looked the five-year-old in the eye. "I hope you know that. I love you so so so much. And your daddy loves you too."

Daddy.

Finn.

Thunderclap.

2009.

Glee.

"Oh God. Clyde. I've got to go. Now. I've got some things I need to get… arranged." Addy grabbed her keys, planted a quick kiss on her daughter's forehead and her husband's lips, and hurried out the door. She just hoped the local library had a copy of the yearbook from her mother's sophomore year.

Addy was halfway across town before realizing that the library would almost certainly be closed. But, God, there had to be something she could do. Anything.

Her mind, still muddled with dull grief and confusion, could come up with nothing. She decided to go to the coffee house. "I could use a little more caffeine in my system…" She parked her car, exhausted, outside a little café downtown. It had just started to rain, one of the first light rains of the spring.

"How can I help you tonight?" The barista looked to be about twenty or so, a dark-skinned college-aged girl with her hair in a high, curly ponytail.

"Um…" Addy looked at the list of caffeinated drinks with cutesy names like "Frosty Fantasy Frappe" and "Mama's Mocha Masterpiece".

"The caramel latte is fine?" Addy ventured. "I don't normally… drink coffee."

"Mhm… I knew I didn't recognize you. Most of the coffee-drinkers in this part of town come here. There aren't really many other places to go, you know?"

"Yeah." Addy sifted through her purse in an attempt to find her wallet, pulling out a wad of cash. "Keep the change."

"Thank you," the barista beamed at her. "You know… You look really familiar from… somewhere."

"Really? I don't think we've met…"

"Mama! C'mere! Don't she look familiar?"

A tall, broad black woman was now standing behind the counter. "Mhmmm…"

"I don't think I know either of you." Addy, her mind in a jumble, felt a headache brewing behind her eyes. "I really have to g-…"

"Oh hell. I know who this girl is."

"I think you' thinking of someone else, ma'am."

"What's your mama's name?"

"Quinn Hudson. Quinn Fabray-Hudson, if you want to be really technical. But she went by Quinn Hudson."

"Went by? As in… doesn't go by?"

"Cancer. She relapsed a few months ago, and it was terminal."

Before Addy knew what was happening, she was enveloped in a huge hug.

"You poor thing!"

The barista flipped the sign on the door to "Closed" and she and her mother led Addy to a table and sat her down.

"I knew your mama when we were in high school. Head cheerleader, popular. It was no mystery, why she joined Glee, though. She became a little bit suspicious of her boyfriend and the girl who wanted to be a big star. The only mystery was why she ever stayed, even when she knew he loved her. But things became clearer, at least later on."

"So my mom was in Glee club? I don't think she… I don't think she ever mentioned that."

"Damn good voice she had too. Gave that Berry a run for her money."

Addy and the barista both stared at the woman as she told of her high school experience with Quinn Fabray.

"I like to think that we were good friends. She lived with me for a while. By the way, I'm Mercedes Harper."

"My mom lived with you?" Addy's eyes grew wide. It was like she never knew her mom. How could her best friend, her rock, her one constant, have lived a lie for almost 45 years?

"After your grandmother threw her out."

"Threw her -! For what?"

Mercedes gave Addy a long look, up and down. "Because she got pregnant."

OOOOOOO

The drive home had never seemed longer. She flew through the door nearly in tears and threw her purse down the minute she stepped through the threshold. "Honey?" she heard Clyde's concerned voice as she nearly sprinted to the bathroom.

"Mommy?" she heard Lindsay's voice from behind the closed door as she sat, knuckles gripping the side of the toilet seat. Her stomach gave another lurch.

"Mommy's sick, baby."

After about a half an hour of sitting, exhausted, by the toilet and waiting for her stomach to turn again, Addy splashed some water on her face and stepped into the hallway. Her little girl lay sprawled on the ground with some crayons and paper.

"Mommy! I maked you a card!" 'Get Wel' was scrawled in wobbly script on a piece of pink construction paper.

With a look at Lindsay, and a glance at Clyde, who had found that she was out of the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her waist, Addy knew that she was not alone in every sense of the world.

OOOOOOO

Quinn and Finn Hudson were the only ones who knew what happened that night, and both took the truth to their grave.

It was the night of Addy's 18th birthday. They'd eaten cake and ice cream with their family, which only consisted of Finn's and Quinn's mothers. Addy's maternal grandfather had treated her mother terribly – though why, no one ever said – and Finn's father had died when he was an infant.

After their nice little family party, Addy was going out with friends.

Quinn knew she had to do it now. He had to know the truth.

"Finn?"

"Hmm?" He looked down at his wife, her head on his chest.

"Do you promise that you'll love me… no matter what?"

"No matter what, sweetheart."

"I thought… I wanted to… I need to tell you something. I need to say something that I should've said a long, long time ago. About nineteen years ago. And I'm so, so sorry."

"Quinn?"

"Addy's not your baby, Finn." She broke down. "She's not yours. I didn't get pregnant in that hot tub."

"Quinn!" Finn looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. He didn't understand.

"You're not the father."

Finn clenched his teeth. "Who is, Quinn?"

They were standing up now. She let out a small sob.

"Who's her father, Quinn?" He shook her shoulders, enraged.

"Noah… Puckerman," she gasped, shaking.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill him!"

Finn Hudson was out the door before Quinn could shout for him to stop. Not that she could've shouted much, with cries choking her throat.

Only hours later, she got the call, got in her car, raced to the hospital. He was gone by the time she got there.

And no one ever knew the real reason why.