Quinn Fabray

It's almost like falling before you rise from grace. I slept through most of that one History class where they talked about it but I remember waking up because Brittany had that leg spasm and she kicked the underside of my shoe. The teacher was talking about a phoenix and how legend had that they molted really ugly and came up more vibrant than before.

I didn't get it until about a year after that, I'll admit it. Actually, I don't think I had it until this moment, in the stillness of this place. This is, was, my church. Its a huge Catholic building of white marble and cold pews with feet warmers. You can't even gaze up without feeling vertigo. And its such a pretty place to get married. I always thought I would get married here, right after my sister.

But now I'm just sitting here, trying not to cry. The same little blue duffel bag that I packed before I left for Finn's house is on the pew right next to me. I couldn't stay, even though the look his mom gave me, begging me to stay. I think I can sneak and stay here tonight, but what comes after Sectionals is anyone's guess.

My mind drifts as I begin to pray. I wish I had a candle I could light instead of just sitting here as kneeled over as I can be with child. Is this what Mary felt? I can't even begin to imagine and I'm pretty sure no matter how much my baby was supposed to happen that she is not going to be the savior of humanity. At least there's no pressure that way.

I can't cry anymore, my cheeks are cold and wet enough as it is. I can't really remember the feeling of makeup; even that set of Bare Minerals that Santana bought me in congratulations for leading the squad successfully that first season. To be honest, I don't miss it. I can't really afford to.

Startled by the slight wisp of smoke, I look up. I know that haircut lighting a candle. I scrunch my nose; not sure if he'll respond if I did call. They were all hiding the secret for me and I knew he had that crush on Finn. At least I was secure in that I would never lose to a boy. Its funny seeing him here and ironic really. What outcasts we both are. In our own ways, we're both Mandy Moore from A Walk to Remember.

Kurt Hummel

I thought Quinn would be resting for Sectionals. I don't know much about raising kids, but I know that rest is one of those universal childcare things that you don't get until about three years after they pop out. And, at its best, is a tentative thing.

I pause for a moment, both our eyes locked and softened. I should go over there. But what do I say? Seeing Quinn nod, I take a chance. It seems like we both need a friend tonight.

"Hey. Mind if I park next to you?"

Quinn scoots down a bit, head in that particular reclined position like she's just waiting for someone to come along and chop it off while she's thinking. Its so very repentant Marie Antoinette of her. Her voice is soft as she first speaks, a bit of a warble. "You're the last person I expected to see here lighting a candle, Kurt."

I try to offer a smile and a light joke to bring up the heavy mood. "Yes, well, I do love an array of soft lighting; great for the pores." The joke doesn't go over so well and she just nods lightly. I feel compelled to go on, the grin becoming a mutated wince. "My mom went to church here and I always light a candle before big events so she'll know what's going on."

"Are you nervous?"

She asks a fair question. "Terrified. I guess it would be more if I hadn't taken a dive on Gravity but..."

"She'd be really proud of you."

Oh damn, my own tears. "You think so?"

Quinn hits me lightly, shoulder to shoulder. "I'd be proud of you if you were my kid. You're pretty tough, despite what they think."

I think for a moment and regress to a smile. "You too. What are you doing here this late?"

"Just...thinking. I can't go back to Finn's. Probably not ever and I can't stand the thought of Puck doting over me every second..."

I nod in commiseration. "Those two have got problems. Where are you staying tonight?"

Quinn looks around, shrugging. "Haven't gotten that far yet."

I turn to face her, our knees almost touching. "Oh no. I am not gonna have anyone dying of guilt tonight in our little Glee family. You'll come stay with me and dad for awhile in our guest room. Lots of cute little stuffed monkeys all over the place. And in the morning, you will join me for my ritual cappuccino. I insist."

No matter what Quinn to tries to motion, I merely shake my head and keep looking to make sure she follows me out of the church.

Finn Hudson

Mom doesn't know I'm camped out behind the bleachers. She doesn't know about Quinn and Puck yet either and I think for the moment that I prefer it that way. She'll figure it out eventually or I'll blurt it out like I always do. But I'm safe for now, in this tent.

The last time I used this pup tent was when I was fifteen and Noah and I had this idea we were gonna go all throughout the country one summer before he opened his pool business. I wasn't dating Quinn yet, but she had just won her first cheer leading competition, so she was still wading through all the possible offers-including the unspoken one that the football guys demanded.

There is a little rust spot in the corner from where Puck had kicked over a Nalgene in the night and split it open. Turns out he had filled it partially with vodka and it had stained, thus detouring the trip. But we had saved up enough money and took the train out to the Grand Canyon anyways. I can't bring myself to touch the picture on top of the little clips. Its from then, just when it was me and him.

I feel safe here. I don't have to think about tomorrow or yesterday. All I have to think about is the fact that my old life is at a bonfire beach party, tossing girls into cold water, and the new me is gonna ignore rising above it all and singing tomorrow. Then I feel my chest constrict, like when I'm doing two a days and I don't drink enough water. I'm no good to either world I was trying to bridge the gap to now.

I think I'm most angry at everyone involved except for Rachel. After all, she actually told me what everyone was trying to avoid telling me. No trust at all for the potential daddy. I mean, I always thought being a team meant we had each others back, didn't it? Was I always just living in a Journey fantasy where everything was gonna be okay somehow?

The s'mores are just about done on the hot plate. I leave the safety of the tent for just a moment. I might not be the brightest guy in the world, but I do know cooking indoors with this type of tent material is not the most brilliant thing in the world.

"Hi."

It's Rachel, wearing that uneasy smile when she hopes that she's not butting in but she desperately does want to. I'm stooped down, turning off the hot plate.

"Hey, you want some s'mores? I know the marshmallow's a little crispy but I really like it this way."

Rachel Berry

I can feel my smile going a bit warmer. Less than a year ago, he wouldn't have even offered me the time of day. Would he have? "Are you kidding? Darker the better for smooshing in the chocolate. But I don't know if I should, I mean competition tomorrow and it's not the best thing for my voice."

Finn isn't even mildly phased. I bring this sort of stuff into conversation all the time. Its part of the hazard of being a constant professional. You should see me try and order pizza at a bowling alley. But, for the moment, Finn's smile is brighter and stronger than any spotlight I've had yet. "Come on, Rach, one s'more is gonna ruin it? It's in the name...you know you want some..."

I kneel down into the dewy grass and take the dessert sandwich he's made for me and is currently bouncing around like a little sing-a-long ball. "You are a bad influence on me, Finn Hudson."

His smile fades in the hint of an instant. "That's funny, cause you've been the exact opposite to me."

Its that change in the air that always seems to happen to us. I want him to kiss me. But he leans in and away, probably thinking better of himself. Which, if I'm to be honest, is actually hotter than him kissing me sometimes. "You shouldn't say things like that, not when your emotions are running so crazy."

"What would you do?"

I shrug. "Follow my heart, I suppose. Probably the same reason I'm here with you right now. Dads were just driving me up the wall with stir-fry and trying to get me to meditate. I just needed..."

He finishes my sentence with a smirk. Finn knows how I feel if anyone does. "A break. I know the feeling."

"What about your mom?"

Finn shrugs. "Thinks I'm at the football bonfire. First time she hasn't asked questions since she caught me singing to the sonogram."

"You were singing to a sonogram?"

He takes a big bite of marshmallow and takes a moment to respond. "It was Kurt's idea....for the ballad thing."

"Ah. Well, I think its sweet."

Finn sighs. I think he wants to talk about sectionals and I'm quite talented about getting him to open up, so I think this will be a good night for us.

Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang, and Matt Rutherford

"He has no idea what he's missing!" I raise my red cup to the rafter over the pool table and feel two satisfying plastic clinks to go along with it.

Being a stud definitely has its advantages. One of these advantages is to be able to go to a bar, drink near beers with a couple of football buddies, even if it used to be way more. Correction, a football stud. I am a stud in many ways, including being a master of knowing how to relax.

Now, lets face it. Me, Mike, and Matt are really the only normal people in Glee. I mean, we're not playing the poor hammered football star like Finn, I got use of both of my legs and I'm, well, I can pass for collegiate stud muffin over fashion diva any day and I'm very proud of that.

Used to be a tradition of getting ourselves pumped up, but never tanked, before a big game. My inspiration for both my limit and the party itself came from Varsity Blues. One thing that douche James VanDer Beek got right was about building unity.

Okay, I will admit that I was a bit shaken up. Finn's never really had killer instinct and his punches weren't any better than that one husband was when he came home from lunch early that one day, but they still hurt just the same. Finn and I were bros, we had all these crazy adventures and crazy dreams. I try hard not to blame Quinn. Its my fault as much as hers.

But that is what the drinking and pool is for. I mean, after all, why concentrate on your baby momma drama every night when you can hit a five ball in the side pocket and trounce some deaf kids and ghetto chicks in the morning?

Mercedes Jones

There's only one part of Dreamgirls I really hate watching. I know that's horrible to say because it's a big part of who I am. But, that scene with Jaime Fox and the trumpet does me in every time. It gives me the sort of chills that, well, make me want to rethink Glee.

Don't get me wrong. I know I can sing. But I'm sitting here on the couch in my pajamas bottoms and airbrushed heart top from ages ago and I just know I'm not Jennifer Hudson. And, even if I can get there, I've seen what happens to those who go after their dream.

I try to be tough, to not be afraid. I've got gift and game and all that. But he's always there in the back of my mind.

You've never heard of my cousin Miles. He played the trumpet for the choir and then one day just pulled up stakes when Lima was too small for him. I can see where he was coming from, though, and most days I can't blame him.

So I'll go upstairs for a few minutes while the movie runs in the background and right there in my closet is his picture. We were close, almost too close for family that saw each other all the freaking time. But I'll take that picture from prom, and its getting grainier and grainier around the edges as the years start to pass, and I'll hold it close to my heart. I have this tree in my front yard that Miles used to climb up on and we would sing that song from An American Tail: Fievel Goes West.

I know he's somewhere out there. But, even then, he didn't see that car coming down Rodeo Drive. They tell me he played until his very last breath. I don't think I have the courage to do the same.

Eventually, the picture does go back up in the closet though. Then I'll head downstairs and watch the last five or so minutes of Dreamgirls while I keep my mint Drumstick minus the nuts from melting on dad's couch. Daddy can't deal with the stains from me jumping around and singing after all these years still.

Artie Abrams and Tina Cohen-Chang

"I'm pleasantly surprised you came with me."

Tina shrugs, carrying her Sonci milkshake to the table and then sitting on it so that we can talk the same way we've been talking since we met. She'll sit on the table itself and look down while I look up, locked into my wheels. "It's nice that we can hang out."

"It's been a little weird since the kiss, but, I mean, I want to understand..."

Tina merely shakes her head. "No, I had no right to do what I did. I guess, I just needed something to hide behind. And that wasn't fair to you."

I bat my eyelashes and shake my head. "No need to be so polite around me. Feels like you've been jumpy since Proud Mary."

Tina shrugs. "It was weird for awhile. I mean, you hide behind something so long..."

"Like feelings?"

Tina finds something interesting on her shoelaces. "Kinda. You're a really cool guy, Artie. I'm glad we can be friends again."

I merely smile and nod. "Of course. My life would have sucked without you, Tina."

Santana Lopez and Brittany Lovelace

"We're totally screwed!"

Brittany focuses those big, pretty eyes of hers on me for a second from behind her glass. "I think we should try to be a little more positive."

Setting my margarita glass down in the secluded guest pool house that my parents let me use for Brittany and my sleepovers, and what used to be Quinn's, I emphasize my point. "Okay, I'm positive that we're screwed."

Brittany flips her eyes down, as though she's having trouble looking at me. "Santana, we've got a lot of heart in Glee club."

I have to press my hand against my chest as I shake my head. "Hey, this was not my idea, remember? This was all Quinn and Coach Sylvester! And then Quinn goes and blows the plan all to hell..."

Brittany's voice rings with hesitation. "Maybe that's enough drinking tonight. You should settle down. Glee club's about fun, isn't it?"

"Earth to Brittany! It's about winning above all. Why do you think Sylvester makes us do all that shit for her?"

Brittany shrugs. "I just thought she wanted to know what was going on. Coach Sylvester's a teacher too. Just like Mr. Schuester."

I tilt my head and sigh. "You're so naïve sometimes. But that's why I like you, Brittany. People should be more optimistic, just like you are."

Brittany smiles under the compliment. "I try pretty hard. Do you want to practice before we try the next massage technique?"

I think for a moment before I respond. "We're doing yoga when we get up at 5:30 and then core. I think maybe we should just rest. Big day tomorrow if we want to win for Glee."

"Wait...does that mean you want Glee to win now or just have fun?"

Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury

No one visits Mr. Schue or Ms. Pillsbury over the night. They're grown-ups with their own problems to deal with. Mr. Schue watching his life spiral away and Ms. Pillsbury getting ready for a wedding that she can't stand. Over and over again, they each go over their individual notes. Place settings. Choreography sets. Traffic directions and different traffic directions. But the silence in their heads and on their hearts is deafening. What they need is to open themselves up to joy. After all, that is what Glee should always be about.