Disclaimer: I'm a poor grad student trying to survive and finish school. I own absolutely nothing but some time and a wild imagination.

A/N: So, this story has taken over my life, it seems. Nothing makes ideas grow as fast as a boring as hell linguistics paper. Try it for yourselves and see, really. This also has the potential to be my longest story to date, reaching up to 50,000 words. I have actually finished writing it, but I'm still tweaking some parts to make it work. I will post it in around 10 parts, and that'll be it. I've reposted the first chapter, which was where the idea just kind of began actually. Also, it would break the rhythm of the story if I left it up and then uploaded crazy long chapters after it. Anyway, long story short, thank you for reading, please enjoy!

Chapter 1: People (Who Need People)

This is the fourth time she has the little stick in her hand. She has drunk five glasses of water. Her bladder actually hurts. Normally, she would be complaining about that, but right now, she's too distraught to care. She looks at the stick. It's almost taunting. It says at the back of the box that two strikes means positive. Two strikes. She needs to take that test. She has to. Patience has never been one of Rachel Berry's many strengths, but she can't bring herself to do it. But again, Rachel Berry wouldn't have gotten herself in this situation in the first place.

She puts the stick back into the box. Maybe the fifth time will be the charm. She decides to pee anyway, she can always drink more water. She sends a prayer to whatever deity that is listening that she's the only one home tonight. She doesn't fear anybody walking in on her indecision. She also regrets that she has to do this alone.

Regret. There was a time that Rachel could honestly say she had almost no regrets. Right now? She regrets almost everything in her life. She doesn't regret coming to NY or NYADA, at all, but if she's honest with herself, she regrets not being prepared enough for the big city. She regrets trying to fit in so hard. She thought things would magically correct themselves once Kurt got there, but they didn't. She still didn't know how things got this messy.

It was only the small things in the beginning. She had found that the big city life was different. She felt so out of place, she felt like a nobody. That's how she decided to change. Her appearance was the first. Then came Brody. The change had clearly worked. Then why not change more? Change was good. Change was exactly what she needed.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she washed her hands. She looked so different, even to herself. She thought she was doing everything right, until... well until Schuester's wedding, really. That's when it hit her. She still wasn't happy. She didn't want this life. She didn't really know what to do with this new version of herself.

She sits on the floor, her back against the bathtub, the box in her hands. She wants to reach out to Kurt, but things are a bit tense between them at the moment because of Brody moving in. She wants to ask the boy who she's come to regard as her best friend to hold her hand and tell her that she is still destined for great things, that they came here together, chasing their dreams and they would achieve them, together, no matter what. But she is not sure if she can take it if Kurt goes off on a tangent about her mistakes. She doesn't need to hear that. She needs unconditional acceptance.

Frankly, she's afraid to go home. She's afraid that her father's won't even recognize this new person she's turned into, that she won't be able to reconnect with them although that's the one thing she needs the most right now. She needs her family, she needs familiarity, she needs love. She needs her dad to hold her, maybe even scold her a bit and then tell her that it's going to be okay. She needs her daddy to make a joke and make everything seem easier. But here she is, sitting on the cold bathroom floor, clutching a pregnancy test that she is too afraid to take. For the first time, she fully realizes that she has, indeed, fucked up. This is not growing up, it's growing apart. And she only has herself to blame.

She looks at the door in front of her. Can a door be intimidating? She feels like the door is judging her. "I'm not afraid of you." She realizes she's in a staring match with a door. She only needs to knock. The rest will work out, somehow. She knows this, she can just feel it. If she manages to just knock, there is a chance that it will all be okay. That she'll be uncomfortable for a while, but comforted at the same time.

This was never the plan.

She was determined that the eight time would be the charm. That she'd get over her jittery nerves and pee on that damn stick and... She doesn't even dare think beyond that point. But she was determined. The next thing she knows, she was putting her coat on and running out of her apartment.

She checks her phone nervously. It's no use really, she turned it off half an hour ago. She knows Kurt and Santana will be confused when they get home, but they'll assume she's out somewhere with Brody. Brody will assume she's with Kurt and Santana, doing whatever, and that's why she's not answering. Nobody will miss her for a while, at least. She feels a wave of loneliness hit her, shattering her to the core.

Tears start streaming down her face while she bangs on the door as if her life depended on it.

She hears the sound of hurried foot-steps from the other side and then the door is wide open. "What the..." Rachel can't even reply. She manages to make a strangled noise, and then there are strong arms enveloping her, and all she knows is that she feels safe and warm and scared and nervous and... It's just too much. A fresh wave of tears takes her over. "Shh... It's okay. Whatever it is, it's going to be okay." The arms hold her even tighter now.

She's a trembling mess by the time she takes a step back from the safety of those arms. "Just come in. I'll close the door." She walks to the window. The view outside is so beautiful. It feels like even the weather is mocking her misery, being all sunny and spring-like even though it's still February. Suddenly, the arms are back around her waist, pulling her close. She feels her eyes sting as the tears reappear.

"I can't do this anymore," she hears herself whisper.

"I've got you," is all she gets in return. She exhales in relief.

She doesn't have to do this alone. Even though she didn't call or visit, even though she deliberately pushed everybody away and even though they had no idea what was going on in each other's lives, she knows she always has Quinn Fabray on her side.

For the first time in two days, she takes a deep breath and smiles.

Quinn stares at Rachel's shaking hands, trying to come up with an appropriate answer to her question. But how? Yes, she's been through something similar herself, but that was high school. This is… This is real life now. Sitting across the brunette, watching her break down in tears and hear the words "I might be pregnant" coming out of her mouth feel completely different. She only looks at Rachel in the eye when she hears her repeat the question:

"What am I going to do?"

She has no answers, to be honest.

It's 3:00 pm, and it's now been an hour since Rachel arrived at her dorm room. She has somehow managed to convince the brunette to take the pregnancy test. All she remembers is that she assured her she wouldn't have to go through it alone, that they would deal with it, whatever the results are. Even though that was just fifteen minutes or so ago, Quinn feels like she's trying to call up a long-lost memory when she thinks about it.

Truth is, Quinn isn't even sure how to feel right now. She doesn't even know if she's feeling anything. She feels hollow. Rachel's words keep echoing inside. "I might be pregnant. I might be pregnant. Pregnant. I might be pregnant." She knows she should be nervous like Rachel is, she should be scared, she should be angry – because come on, wasn't her teen pregnancy enough of a cautionary tale? She knows she should be feeling a myriad of feelings right now, and she does act the part. Maybe on some level she even feels them a little bit. But her defenses are all up, she's the epitome of calm and focused on the task at hand. She's nothing if not the master of her own emotions. She has always been.

She reminds herself of another version of herself now: The ice-queen, the head cheerleader. She can almost hear that familiar buzzing in her ears, helping her tune out everything else. The buzzing helps her focus – it always has – it helps her rise above whatever emotional turmoil is ready to erupt inside, it helps her excel at whatever she does. She feels light-headed, foreign to her own body for a moment and she wonders if she's about to pass out from the stress that is undoubtedly building up inside. But she needs to remain calm. She has to, for the sake of the little brunette. They can't both fall apart. She has to be there for her. So she gets up and fills herself another glass of water and waits for Rachel to re-emerge from the bathroom.

"Now we wait."

That's all Rachel says when she enters the room again. She sits next to Quinn, but not too close. "Now we wait," Quinn repeats. She feels like she should say something, something to make the brunette feel better but she has no idea what to say. What do you say in this situation? So she keeps quiet and stares at her feet.

"Are you angry at me?"

She turns her head so fast she's sure she looks like a cartoon character. "What?" she asks. "No."

"I thought maybe you would be," Rachel starts, but before she's able to continue, the blonde hugs her tightly again.

"No. I'm not angry at you."

"I don't know what I was thinking, showing up here like this," Rachel starts again. Her voice is muffled but she's close enough to the blonde to hear it. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I? Were you busy?"

"Only you would be worried about that at this moment," is all Quinn can come up with in response. Then she feels the stinging in her eyes. She blinks a couple of times rapidly to stop the tears. She knows she won't be able to stop if she starts crying now, and she just can't. So she pulls back, and smiles a little smile to the brunette. "I'm glad you came to me."

"I… I couldn't go anywhere else."

It's almost time to check the pregnancy test. The tension in the room is so thick, it's suffocating. The silence is almost unbearable. They avoid eye contact, not trusting themselves to keep it together any longer.

"This was never the plan, you know," Quinn is startled at her voice. Rachel sounds harsh, mean almost. "I was never supposed to be here, waiting to see if my future is about to change forever. Because it's going to change no matter what, isn't it? Whatever happens, something is going to change."

"Change is not necessarily a bad thing, Rach." Quinn wants to tell her to take it easy, not to be so hard on herself. That she just made a mistake, that people make mistakes all the time. But she knows the girl sitting next to her well enough that she won't get through to her right now.

"It's not necessarily good, either." Rachel stands up and walks to the nightstand where the box and the pregnancy test are sitting. "It's time." Quinn sees her hesitate for a moment and makes a move towards her.

"Do you want me to…"

"No. I need to do this myself." Quinn nods and sits back on the bed. Rachel picks the test up and looks at the result. Quinn looks at all the emotions rushing through her face, trying to guess. She doesn't have to wait long, because soon Rachel sits back on the bed and whispers, "I'm pregnant." Quinn can actually see the world crumple up and shatter around the brunette. She looks so small and defeated. "Oh my God, Quinn, I'm pregnant." And then they both fall apart.

Quinn shifts on the bed, turns around and stands up. She was basically spooning Rachel a moment ago. She doesn't even know how they ended up in that position but the brunette needed to be held, and refused to let go, she is sure of that. At some point, they have exhausted themselves with all the crying and laid down on the bed, seeking comfort in each other. Rachel looks so tiny in her bed, or at least that's what Quinn thinks when she looks at the brunette, who's now clutching the pillow to her chest in her absence. She's fallen asleep a while ago. Quinn decides to make something to eat. It will help her clear her head – it always does. And they will have to eat at some point, anyway.

It takes Quinn about fifteen minutes to get some mac and cheese ready and she's back to the room immediately. She has questions, she knows she will have to ask them sooner or later, but she doesn't know how to approach the brunette without causing another meltdown on both sides. She thinks about doctor's appointments and pre-natal vitamins and adoption and abortion and then she feels sad for herself for a fleeting moment for knowing so much about pregnancy. She then feels pissed off at life, at universe, at God – he's used to it by now for sure anyway – she's been through enough, hasn't she? Shouldn't the powers that be give her some slack? She has suffered enough for all her friends' sake for certain. Life isn't fair, though. Things happen. She has learned that by now, but still it angers her that she's so powerless at this moment. She wishes she could travel back in time and lecture Rachel about safe sex. Although she's pretty sure that's her dads' responsibility. Her dads... She wonders how they will take it. They are not like her mother. They wouldn't cut Rachel off their life like Judy did for Quinn. They would actually be there for their daughter. She sets the plates on her desk and walks toward the bed to wake the brunette up.

They sit next to each other both out of convenience and to avoid eye contact again. Quinn finds that both annoying and amusing. She watches Rachel poke her food. It's no surprise she's not that hungry. She grabs the brunette's hand and stills it. Rachel looks at her, her big brown eyes blurry with tears that she's trying to hold back. Quinn brings her hand closer to herself and places a gentle kiss on it. She is not sure what has possessed her to do such a thing, but it seems to work. Rachel smiles tentatively. It lasts for two seconds or so, but it's a smile. And it sure beats eyes full of tears, no matter how beautiful those eyes may be.

"So…" Quinn decides it's time they talked about some of the stuff that's waiting to be addressed.

"Quinn." Rachel's tone is completely neutral. The blonde is not sure that's a green light for her questions or a warning sign. She decides to take a chance. She moves on the bed so she's sitting next to the brunette, shoulder to shoulder and she nudges her leg slightly with her own.

"Can you talk?" She starts with the easiest of her questions. Rachel looks at her, raising her eyebrows as if to challenge her. "Okay. Is it Brody's?" she continues her questioning. She doesn't know why but it matters to her who the father might be. Something inside her dreads that Rachel will say it's Finn's baby. That would actually make sense to Quinn, karmic retaliation or some kind of a punishment form up above for her high school self. Rachel nods, and Quinn sighs out in relief. It's Brody's. Finn is still out of the picture, just as he should be. "Do you have any idea how far along you might be?" she asks gently.

"Not more than few weeks probably…" Quinn nods. "I'm three weeks late. It shouldn't have taken me so long to realize but we were all back in Lima and you know the fiasco that was Mr. Schuester's wedding and I didn't even notice. It only hit me when I was checking my calendar to see which classes I missed last week." It's the longest she's spoken since she arrived in New Haven earlier today. Quinn smiles to encourage her to go on, but it's too late. She closes up again.

"Does anybody else know? Did you tell anybody that you might be…" Quinn stops mid-sentence when the brunette shakes her head almost violently. "You need to tell him. And your dads, as well..." Rachel keeps shaking her head. "Rach, you can't keep it as a secret."

"Seriously? Isn't that what you did?" Quinn can tell that Rachel is trying to wind her up. She replies calmly instead.

"That's why I know that you can't. It'll only hurt people more." Rachel seems almost disappointed at her reluctance to bite. "You don't have to tell them tonight… Or even tomorrow. But you need to tell them before it's too late." Rachel only nods. Quinn wonders if anything she has said so far has gotten through to the brunette. She doubts it.

"I fucked up real bad, didn't I?" Quinn doesn't say anything in return; they both know it's not a question anyway. "I'm sorry I didn't really keep in touch." The sudden change of topic takes Quinn by surprise. She raises an eyebrow in question. "I… I haven't been in touch with anyone except Kurt and Santana, and that's only because we live together. Not even my dads. I already disappointed them so much. I don't know how to tell them. I don't want to let them down."

"Rach, they are not like my parents. Your dads will understand. You just need to talk to them." She tries to get Rachel out of the guilt-trip she seems to be buried in.

"Broadway was their dream as much as it's mine, you know. They wanted as bad as I did, they believed that it would happen perhaps more than I did. And now, I might actually have ruined everything and I don't know how to talk to them about it. It's not just the pregnancy, either. I haven't been happy in New York for a while now."

Quinn listens to the confession silently. She has been aware that something was off all along, but she couldn't have guessed this. "I thought you were out there conquering New York, and had no time for your old friends, you know. Figured that's why you never used the train passes." She says gently, after some thought. "Why didn't you just say so? Maybe I could have helped. I don't know how, but I would have tried."

The brunette gives her a smile. "I know. But I couldn't even admit it to myself for a long time. Not until yesterday, actually. I just couldn't admit it. Not until I had to walk into a pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test by myself and then came back to an empty apartment. Then I felt the defeat. I had never felt it before, you know. Not even in high school when everyone was humiliating me. I had the dreams of New York to keep me going. Now, I'm in New York, I'm at my dream school, and something is missing. I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore," she pauses and then adds, "and I'm pregnant."

Quinn gently places her hand over the brunette's. "We'll figure this out." Soon, they are lying on their sides, spooning again, and Rachel's fingers are wrapped around hers.

Quinn wakes up at 9:00 am the next morning as usual. They are still spooning, it seems and she feels sore all over from not having moved at all during the night. Rachel looks almost peaceful while she sleeps. The blonde decides to keep still some more to let the brunette enjoy her slumber while she can. Rachel will have to leave in the afternoon, that's for sure. They both have classes and Kurt and Santana have started freaking out. She knows Rachel hasn't replied to any of their texts yet, but she isn't sure if she's allowed to text them herself. If they knew Rachel spent the night here, it would only raise more questions. She sighs in defeat. She just has to wait a little more. The brunette is an early riser, if there was ever one; even with the exhaustion, she should wake up soon.

Right on cue, she hears the brunette's voice. "Quinn?"

"Yeah?" she still doesn't move, instead, she tries to enjoy the last few moments of peace they have.

"Oh, you're awake," is all Rachel says.

"So are you." Rachel wiggles around a bit and finally turns around to face the blonde.

"I wish I wasn't, though." Quinn just wraps her arms tighter around the brunette's waist and pulls the smaller girl into herself.

"I know." It takes them another fifteen minutes to finally leave the warmth and the safety of the bed and each other.

"I'll call you after I've made an appointment with the doctor's." Rachel promises. They are standing outside the train station, a few inches apart. "And I will text you when I get back home." Quinn just nods her approval. "Not in that order though." Quinn chuckles, and then hands her a small paper bag. "What's that?"

"A sandwich... Thought you might get hungry." Rachel smiles and gives her a brief hug. "Just… take it easy, okay? Go home; think about it for a while. You have choices. Then call the doctor and make that appointment, or text me and I'll do it for you. You don't have to do this alone." Rachel just nods and gets on the train.

Quinn receives a text message when she goes back to her dorm. It just reads: "Thank you for everything."

Rachel arrives at home in the evening, acts as if nothing is wrong when Santana and Kurt practically jump on her for disappearing like that. She feels a bit guilty for not giving them enough credit, but lies her way through it. For all they know, she was out and drunk with some new friends she made at a workshop and stayed with one of them to avoid walking home intoxicated. Even Rachel knows that it sounds so like a Rachel Berry thing to do, they will believe it. And she doesn't even have to explain about her bloodshot and puffy eyes, she was drunk, after all.

She wonders when exactly she has become a liar. Then she thinks maybe says it enough times, it will magically become real and she will have really gone out and gotten herself drunk and imagined everything that has happened in the past few days.

Then her phone buzzes and a simple sentence shatters her hopes again. "I'm here for you." She quickly texts back that she has arrived home in one piece, and face plants on her bed, suddenly feeling exhausted again.

"Did she seem a bit off to you as well?" Kurt plops down to the couch with the new issue of Vogue magazine in his hands. Santana flicks the magazine, knowing just how much it annoys him when she does that and smirks at him.

"Keep your nose out of the diva's business Kurt. I might have to murder you if you two go at each other again. And I ain't here to gets into jail, my friend." She nods to herself; feeling satisfied that she managed not to sound like she cared.

"I still think something is up with her. I can always tell, you know. It's the diva in us. We get each other." Santana doesn't reply, but she throws a pillow at him, and manages to get him to lose his place. "SATAN! I'm trying to read here!" Santana thinks their neighbors can't be too happy with all the shrieking going on lately but she thinks the entertainment is worth it anyway.

Rachel sleeps well into the night. She then sneaks out of her own bedroom to get a glass of water. It's already 4:00 am, but Kurt and Santana are night birds, who knows if they're even still in. Rachel just feels glad that her roommates have found a match in each other when it comes to partying. She has never even been a contender when it comes to that. She makes her way to the bathroom, brushes her teeth and goes back to her bed room to bury herself under her blankets.

Rachel wakes up the next morning with a list already formed in her head. She feels like the whole world is pushing down on her shoulders, but she knows that there are things she has to take care of. She starts with the easiest one, and calls Brody. She hasn't been happy in their relationship lately, but she decides he deserves a chance. It's not like she's lying or cheating on him anyway. She just wants to consider all her choices before she makes her decision. They make plans to go out to dinner later that week. With that crossed off her list, she moves on to the next one, on autopilot.

She gets herself a cup of breakfast cereal and a handful of frozen blueberries. She realizes she's once again the only one home. She sits at the kitchen table and turns her laptop on. She has research to do.

It's around noon when Quinn receives a text message. She raises an eyebrow at the lack of emotion, but she feels proud as well. She should have known better. Rachel Berry always bounces back.

"Appointment this Wednesday at 1pm."

She tries to concentrate on her textbook again, but she knows it's hopeless. She finds herself considering ditching the evening classes she has on Wednesday and going to New York. She wonders if that would be crossing a line, though she never knows where the line starts and ends when it comes to Rachel Berry. She makes up her mind and texts her back: "Will you be okay?"

"No, but I'll deal," Rachel's reply is fast and to the point. Quinn appreciates the honesty and is glad that the brunette is not shutting her out of her life. And just like that, she has made her decision.

Rachel spends the whole Tuesday dreading her appointment, trying to come up with the courage to talk to her dads and stress-eating. She doesn't even bother to go to class, because it's the dance studio with Cassandra July, and she is pretty sure she would break down in tears if she had to face that evil bitch. So she decides to occupy herself with some reality TV instead.

Around 5 pm she hears the door creak open. She doesn't even have to look, she knows it's Kurt and she knows he's worried. It's funny how well they can just sense each other's emotional states really. She feels Kurt approach her hesitantly, but doesn't say anything. She's not sure she can face him right now. She knows that if he looks her in the eye and asks her what's wrong, she won't be able to lie to him.

She sends the heavens a silent thanks when Kurt stops and walks towards the kitchen instead and just announces that he's making dinner tonight. She still feels the urge to cry since she knows it's Kurt's way of apologizing for the way things have been between them lately. It's not much, but it's a start. She takes a moment to collect herself and then makes her way to the kitchen to join Kurt and make sure he doesn't burn the place down.

That night she actually has a smile on her face when she goes to bed despite all the nerves because she doesn't remember the last time she enjoyed dinner with Santana and Kurt and felt so light. "How come I feel so light and carefree when I've pretty much hit rock-bottom?" she sends the text without even thinking twice. She falls asleep before she gets a reply.

"Once you're down there, there's no way to go but up."

She reads it early in the morning. It somehow makes her feel sad and hopeful at the same time.

Ten minutes later, she gets out of the bed and practically drags herself to the shower. It's Wednesday. She has a feeling, a premonition, that the doctor will confirm what she already knows to be true. Still, her eyes wander towards the mirror as she sheds her clothes on the bathroom floor. Her stomach looks so flat. She knows, logically that she can't be more than a few weeks along, but everything feels so different, she feels like there should be a physical difference as well.

She enters the shower and starts humming the lyrics to "People". She decides to watch Funny Girl when she gets back home, even though Santana threatened to confiscate her collector's edition DVD the last time she insisted they have a Barbra night. She realizes she doesn't care. She has never needed Barbra as much as she does now.

Quinn stands outside the brunette's apartment. If Santana or Kurt's home, she'll say she's there for a conference or something and just stopping by to say hi. If they aren't, she's not planning to stay the night anyway. She knocks once, twice, and then there's Rachel, standing in front of her clad only in a towel.

She doesn't even care that her clothes are getting damp when the brunette hugs her fiercely and she hears her whisper in her ear:

"Thank you for being here."

I highly suggest you listen to Barbra Streisand's People as soon as you're done with this chapter. It's sublime.