Keep Holding On, a glee fanfic

Disclaimer: Ownership is neither claimed nor implied.

A/N: Further adventures of Quick…

Week Eighteen - This week your baby is about 5.6 inches long and by the end of the week will weigh about 5 ounces! She is really growing! You are also growing as well, Mom! You can probably feel your uterus just under your navel. You have probably gained about 10 to 12 pounds.

"Ugh," Quinn sighed with feeling. "Listen to this," she commanded. "Symptoms you may experience," she read out then glanced at Puck. "Are you even listening?" she asked, he turned away from the stove, spatula in hand, giving her his full attention. "Breast changes," she announced, absolutely certain he'd listen to that with bated breath. "Tenderness, fullness, darkening of the areola…"

"Check, check and check," Puck cut Quinn off, calling out the word with a wink and a cheeky grin.

Quinn glared at him for a second then looked back down at the page. "Frequent urinati…" she started to say and was cut off again.

"Double check," Puck said, his grin getting even wider, "you can pee for Lima."

"Constipation, indigestion, heartburn, headaches, stretch marks," Quinn listed as though Puck hadn't interrupted her, "stretch marks," she repeated incredulously, "that's an understatement, a blind person could use my stomach as a Braille map of Ohio," she grumbled. "They'd be able to drive around and find their way no problem," she muttered.

Puck glanced over his shoulder, his concentration back on the breakfast he was cooking. "Seriously?" he asked. Quinn blushed and shrugged. "You've got two little stretch marks, two," he corrected her. "And who cares?" he asked. "They're pregnancy battle scars," he reminded her, "proof that my baby is growing inside you," he said as he filled her plate with pancakes before adding strawberries from the bowl waiting beside the stove and a drizzle of Tabasco sauce as per Quinn's instructions. "And I still don't know how you can eat that," he grimaced as he set the plate in front of Quinn.

"Thank you. Your hair may appear thicker or have gained a little curl," Quinn read then paused as she blew on the forkful of pancake and strawberry, "or it may start thinning," she paused again as the food connected with her taste buds. "Mmmm," she sighed, her face showing her appreciation. "So according to this, my hair could get thicker, thinner or curlier. Well it hasn't," she grumbled, "its just got dryer."

"What's the average weight gain for this stage?" Puck asked, knowing that that particular piece of information was going to be the source of the next half an hour's grumbling.

Quinn found the relevant piece of information in the book. "Oh," she started in surprise. "Average weight gain is twelve pounds," she said then looked up at Puck with a happy smile on her face. "I've only gained nine," she reminded him.

"So does that mean the baby is going to be under weight?" Puck asked, immediately concerned.

Quinn frowned down at the book as she forked more of her breakfast into her mouth. "I don't think so," she answered when she could speak, "I've got plenty of time to get fatter," she sighed, she laid the book down on the table and concentrated more on eating her delicious breakfast.

Puck leaned over towards her, his elbows on the table, his hand covering one of Quinn's. "I told you before," he reminded her, "you're not fat," he said, his face breaking out into a smile, Quinn couldn't help but copy him.

"Thanks," Quinn mumbled as she swallowed.

"Eat up, we have to get to school," Puck said as he turned round to concentrate on cleaning the kitchen.

Quinn sat fidgeting in the waiting room, Puck sighed a lot and looked round, commenting loudly on the posters on the wall. "Shhh," Quinn hissed at him, giving him the dead eye. "If you don't shut up you can sleep in your own bed for the next six months," she growled quietly at him.

"You'd only start texting me, begging me to come downstairs and get into bed with you," Puck replied just as loudly as he'd spoken before about the posters. He grinned at Quinn. "Tell the truth, you can't sleep till I've massaged your feet and rubbed lotion on your stomach," he added, laughter lighting up his eyes.

Quinn growled low in her throat. "Shut. Up," she said very, very quietly through gritted teeth, each word a sentence all of it's own. Puck's grin got even wider as he settled more comfortably into his seat.

"Quinn Fabray," the nurse called from across the waiting room. Quinn rose and followed the woman, grateful to be out of the stare of the other women in the waiting room, even if it was only for a few minutes.

"How fat did you get this week?" Puck called across the waiting room with a huge grin plastered on his face, as Quinn returned to await her appointment with the doctor. She chose not to answer Puck but he could see in her eyes that she was plotting revenge.

"You can come in if you're going to be quiet," Quinn replied to Puck's question of could he come with her. She was only just holding in the tears of temper that were threatening to pour out all over, along with the temper. She was pissed with him today, he was being a stupid, stupid, stupid asshole and she wanted to kill him, it was his Goddamn fault that they were in this position in the first place and just because he was missing his favourite cookery show to attend the appointment with her, he decided to act like a stupid immature asshole and embarrass the hell out of her.

"I'm sorry," Puck whispered sweetly against her fingers, he'd lifted her hand to his lips. "I am, truly, I'm really sorry, I'll behave," he promised, seeing how upset she was and how much she was trying to hide it.

Dr Wu's technician studied the image on the screen as Puck and Quinn waited patiently. Well, Quinn waited patiently, Puck less so, his foot couldn't stop tapping, he was humming nervously under his breath, he was tapping his fingers on the couch that Quinn was laid on as the woman took measurements and did all sorts of magical things with the wand thing that she held against Quinn's stomach.

"Ok, are you ready?" the woman asked, she saw them both nod before she turned the monitor around for them to take a look at their baby. "Today…do you want to know?" she asked, suddenly halting what she had intended to say.

Puck's eyes locked with Quinn's. "Yes, yes, we want to know, don't we?" he asked, a little uncertainly.

"Yes, we do, we want to know," Quinn confirmed, her eyes filling with tears again, tears and trepidation.

"Alright, today," the technician began again with a smile, "as you can see, your daughter is sucking her thumb."

"Daughter?" Quinn asked, her voice a whispered sob. "A girl? Are you sure?" she asked, unable to take it in properly.

"Yes, it's a girl," the technician replied, giving Quinn an indulgent smile. "I'll give you a few minutes while I collect your pictures and the DVD," she announced, used to parents needing a few minutes to get themselves together once they found out what they were having.

"You're very healthy, Quinn," her doctor confirmed once again. "You could do with putting on a little more weight, but your blood pressure, your test results are all fine, everything is perfect. Do you have any questions?" he asked. Quinn tried to look as though she was thinking of a question, she kicked Puck's ankle when she saw him open his mouth to ask something, the mood he'd been in all day it was probably some thing really stupid or really embarrassing. "No? Ok, so I'll see you in four weeks," he said with a smile. Puck and Quinn thanked him and left the office.

"Not a word," Quinn hissed as she climbed into Puck's truck. "If you place any value on your manhood at all, do not speak to me for the rest of the day," she advised before immersing herself in the pictures of her baby girl floating around in her embryonic water world.

"A baby girl?" Monica Puckerman cried with excitement as she studied the ultrasound pictures. "Oh honey, I'm so happy for you and for Finn," she told Quinn. "Carole must be beside herself."

"Ma," Puck sighed. "Finn is nothing to do with the baby, I'm her father," he reminded his mom yet again.

"Sorry, yes, you told me that before, didn't you?" Monica replied, feeling confident that she'd got that right. "Well, a little girl to bless our family," she sighed and smiled at Quinn, nodding at her. "And you're getting married, right?" she asked them both. Puck and Quinn swiftly put an end to that conversation and left the room, left Monica to her own thoughts and memories.

Puck thought long and hard about his apology, he knew it would have to be something meaningful. He signed them up for the classes, the Lamaze and the parenting classes. He gave the woman on reception at the Birthing Centre, where he actually had to go to book them in for the classes, his most belligerent, baleful, I'm-a-teenager-and-I-don't-give-a-shit stare that he possibly could. She didn't look impressed, she didn't look intimidated either. He wondered if Quinn was anywhere near forgiving him yet.

Week Twenty - Half way there! Baby is now starting to form vernix. This is a greasy, white substance that protects baby from the amniotic fluid. Usually, by the time you deliver, most of it's gone, but sometimes, you may see remnants of it. Baby is now about 9.5- 10 ounces, and is about 10 inches long.

Quinn pouted, crossed her arms and tapped her foot and gave Puck a stare that made him gulp. Puck felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead, he didn't dare look left or right, he knew the entire Glee club was watching the stand off with varying degrees of amusement.

"You mean you won't," Quinn stated, the tone of her voice did not invite Puck to argue with her.

"I mean I can't," Puck replied, hoping that very, very soon Quinn would gain some sort of understanding. It wasn't that he didn't want to give her everything that she craved, it was more that at this present moment, tied as they were to their final Glee rehearsal before the competition tomorrow, he just couldn't possibly make a fresh lasagne for her right now. "Look, as soon as we get home, I promise, I will make lasagne, from scratch, but can we please, for the love of God, just get on with this?" he almost begged.

"I might not want it then," Quinn grumbled. "But I want it now, like right now."

"Who'd have thought that Puck could be such a good cook," Mike whispered to Matt.

"He makes all those cupcakes for us for after football practice," Matt reminded Mike, "and he makes those delicious soups for after the games when the weather is really cold."

"True," Mike murmured. "I wonder if he'd make lasagne for us," he pondered.

Puck glanced round at his friends in absolute disgust. "I can hear you," he informed them and at least enjoyed seeing Mike blush a little. Puck looked up at the clock above the door. "Look, it's really late right now, by the time we get home you'll probably be craving raspberries and toothpaste again, how about if I make lasagne tomorrow, for everyone, if we win at Sectionals?" he offered.

Quinn pouted some more while she considered the offer. "And will you massage my feet for me?" she bargained.

"If it means you'll get on with rehearsal," Puck countered and nodded back at her when she nodded to him. "Fine, I will make you something to eat and then massage your feet as soon as we get home, ok, can we get on with this?" he asked, looking round at everyone.

Mercedes' solo was impressive, she hit that note every time and she sounded absolutely awesome. The wheelchair number was amazing, the choreography was intricate and inspired, the audience was bound to lap it up and their final number, the Journey classic, Don't Stop Believing was going to be a show stopper with the dance routine they'd worked out for it.

"Thank you guys, I'm sorry for keeping you so late, apologise to your parents for me and I'll see you tomorrow," Mr Schue called as the group left the choir room. "Don't be late tomorrow. Ten, you have to be here by ten tomorrow so that we can be at the venue in plenty of time," he leaned out into the hallway to call after them and remind them, he received a few waves in reply, Mr Schue knew they'd all heard him,

"You're really going to massage her feet when you get home?" Finn whispered to Puck as Quinn and Rachel walked ahead chatting with the other girls.

"Sure," Puck replied, his eyes locked onto Quinn's butt as it swayed delicately from side to side with each step she took. "It's worth it," he confided to Finn, glad that they were at least talking again if not the best of friends yet. "You should try it sometime, a good massage will get you anywhere," he said with a smirk.

Finn absorbed that piece of information with interest. He couldn't even think of how many times Rachel had said her shoulders were tense or her back felt tight. Was she hinting for a massage? And if she was, did she really mean a massage? Or did she mean a massage? It was certainly worth investigating further.

"Fine, so I don't actually want lasagne right at this moment," Quinn admitted just before she moaned in ecstasy at the wonderful job Puck was making of the foot massage. "Will you stay here with me tonight?" she asked quietly. "Your mom's already asleep, she won't even know if we're careful and get up early enough," she wheedled.

"Sure," Puck agreed without argument, he loved the nights when she wanted him to stay with her, even if all she wanted was to be hugged all through the night. It was even better on those nights that she wanted more.

Puck made use of the bathroom first. "All yours," he said as he came back into the bedroom dressed only in his boxers. "Did you move my toothbrush?" he asked, he'd brought his spare toothbrush down to the guest room bathroom to use when he stayed with Quinn. "It wasn't in the cabinet, I had to use my finger," he pouted.

"No," Quinn answered. "It was there this morning," she added, remembering that she'd been tempted to clean the toilet with it because Puck had snored into her ear all night, keeping her awake.

"I thought it was," Puck replied. He'd showered and got ready for school down here with Quinn this morning before going to the kitchen to make breakfast for them both and his sister. "Well, I'm beat," he sighed, getting under the covers and laying with his hands behind his head. Puck watched Quinn disappear into the bathroom, heard the water running, heard the toilet flush and the water again, his eyes were almost closed when Quinn returned to the bedroom, rubbing her hands together, Puck knew she'd just rubbed cream into them. "Did you put your lotion on already?" he asked, his voice murmured through barely open lips.

"Not yet," Quinn said lightly, settling one knee onto the bed and pulling her nightie up a little. "Do you want to do it?" she asked, giving Puck a teasing sort of smile.

Puck grinned as he sat up, waking up just a little bit. "Lay down here," he suggested with a little flick of his eyebrow. Puck took the bottle of lotion from Quinn and watched her make herself comfortable. Puck put the bottle on the bed beside him and knelt up, he pushed Quinn's nightie even higher, right up under her boobs, exposing her stomach to his gaze and his hands. Puck couldn't resist just leaning down and touching his lips to it, kissing where his baby was growing.

"She's kicking a lot tonight," Quinn murmured, smiling as she looked down her body at Puck, at his stupid mohawk.

"I know, I can see her," Puck whispered against Quinn's stomach, watching it ripple as their baby moved inside her. He sat up on his knees. "Lotion," he said with a contented sigh and poured a generous amount into his cupped hand. Puck warmed the lotion between his two hands for a few seconds before gently stroking it over Quinn's tight protruding stomach. Quinn sighed and moved around just a little, even though she tried to keep still, Puck's hands on her always made her a little restless, a little breathless.

"Noah," Gabby called as she barged into the bedroom causing Puck to yank Quinn's nightie down, causing Quinn to almost freak out. Gabby pulled up short, taken aback by the intimate scene she'd just interrupted. "What were you doing and why are you undressed?" she asked her brother.

"Get lost Gab," Puck sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sister in the doorway, he hoped she'd stay there and not come any further into the room, he couldn't hide his physical reaction to Quinn as easily as Quinn could hide her stomach.

"No, I want to know why you're here in the guest room with Quinn instead of in your own room upstairs," Gabby insisted. "Does mom know you're in here? And Nana's coming tomorrow, she called tonight, she's coming tomorrow and staying for at least a week," she informed her brother.

"Crap," Puck sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. His nana usually had the guest room when she came to visit. "Well, either you move to my room and Nana has this room like she usually does, or I move in here with you and Nana can have my room," he said, looking at Quinn to see if he could figure out which way she'd go.

"You have your own bathroom up there, right?" Quinn asked, she thought he did but she wasn't sure. Puck nodded that he did. "And a double bed?" she asked, he nodded again. "Well then, I don't mind which way we do it, maybe you should check with your mom tomorrow or your nana, find out what she'd prefer," she suggested.

"Cool," Puck agreed with a nod. "Thanks, Gab, anything else?" he asked with a glance back at his sister.

"No, just mom was in here earlier collecting the laundry from the hamper," Gabby added. "She talked to herself a lot afterwards then she went to bed," she informed her brother.

"Crap," Puck muttered again. "There was a lot of my clothes in your laundry hamper, I usually take them to the utility room myself, she doesn't usually have to get anything from in here," he said quietly to Quinn. "I guess she knows I spend a lot of time here," he added with a tight smile. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, straighten things out with her, I think she still thinks you're Finn's girlfriend," he said with an awkward shrug.

"Well I'm not," Quinn whispered as she sat up, her lips seeking out Puck's. "I'm your girlfriend," she grinned against his lips.

"Damn straight," Puck replied and deepened the kiss slightly.

"I'm still here," Gabby reminded them both, her hand raised in the air to gain their attention. "Eww, gross," she cried as they totally ignored her and allowed their kiss to deepen even more. The slam of the bedroom door barely registered with either of them…

"Yes ma, we are a couple, we're exclusive," Puck said to his mom and watched the different emotions chase across her face. "And yes, that was my toothbrush."

"But you're still only just kids," Monica cried, struggling to understand. "How do you know you should be together? You shouldn't stay together because of the baby, that won't be enough to make things work."

"Ma, chill, alright," Puck said softly, taking Monica by the shoulders and hugging her, knowing that in her head she would start equating his and Quinn's relationship to her own failed relationship with her ex husband. "I do stay in the guest room a lot with Quinn, she likes me to be near, she needs me, ok," he explained. "So I need to ask what you'd like us to do when Nana comes today. We can either stay in the guest room and let Nana have my room or Quinn can move to my room with me," he suggested. "But however we do it, I think I should warn you, the move will be a permanent one."

Monica blinked and leaned back looking at her son. "You've really grown up through this situation, haven't you Noah?" she asked, feeling a wonderful sense of clarity descend on her, a peace such as she didn't usually feel without the help of medication. "I'm proud of you Noah. Your father didn't want to get married, he didn't want to support me, when he found out I was pregnant with you, he ran away, your grandpa hunted him down and brought him back to Lima and forced him into marrying me, I think that's why he wandered like he did, why he left like he did, but it wasn't me, was it? It wasn't my fault, I get it now," she said quietly, revelation dawning in her eyes. "Don't rush into marriage Noah, there's no shame in waiting," she told him sincerely.

"We won't," Puck assured his mom with absolute honesty. "We're cool, right?" he asked. "You're ok with Quinn sharing my room with me, right?"

"Yes, it's fine Noah," Monica agreed. "I don't need to remind you to be careful, do I?" she teased a little. "I like her, Noah, she's a nice girl. For a Christian," she qualified her statement.

"I wish we were going first," Rachel sighed, "I really want to get this over with, get our songs…I don't believe it," she wailed. "Can you hear that?" she demanded, pointing towards the stage from their dressing room. "How is that possible? How would anyone…" she broke off as Puck, Finn and Kurt returned to the dressing room.

"They're doing it in wheelchairs," Puck cried. "How could they possibly have come up with the exact same idea as us?" he demanded. "They must have had insider knowledge, they've got to have."

All of New Directions stared at each other in disgusted amazement. When the first group of performers sang their second number too, Mercedes burst into tears. "We can't possibly sing either of those songs now, what are we going to do?" she wailed, looking at everyone for suggestions.

"Well, at least we still have Don't Stop," Finn sighed with relief as the group performed their third number. "We'll have to think of something, quick, we only have about fifteen minutes before we have to go on."

Quinn did what she did best, what she hadn't done for months, she took charge. "Mercedes, what else have you got there in your back pocket?" she demanded, standing over Mercedes, bringing her out of her tearful reverie.

"Nothing, there's….no, nothing, I can't, I don't," Mercedes stuttered, shrugging.

"Rachel, you must have something lurking there that you can drag out for our solo?" Quinn demanded as she tapped Rachel on the head, a hint of teasing in her voice, absolutely sure that the determined, focused girl would have any number of songs she could call on at a moment's notice.

"Well, there is one," Rachel replied, sounding a little unsure of herself, a little nervous.

"Ok, we'll go with that one, that's our solo, we can…oh crap," Quinn sighed as they heard the second group sing Don't Stop Believing. "Ok, new plan. Who has an iPhone?" she asked, holding her hand out for one. "Gimme," she called to Tina, motioning with a wave of her hand for Tina to hand the phone over. "Ok, how about we go with Rachel's number for the solo, Somebody to Love and…and…why can't we get what we want?" Quinn pouted as she struggled to find a signal in the old building.

"You can't always get what you want, but life's better if you get what you need," Kurt replied sounding incredibly bored, his voice conveying that he was resigned to failure.

"What was that? Say that again," Mr Schue demanded as he came through the doorway into the dressing room. He listened as Kurt tried to say the phrase again, as near as he could remember what he'd said. "Take a look at the lyrics for this," Mr Schue called, grinning at his team as he handed Tina's iPhone around. "Santana, Brittany, can you come up with something really quick? We've got ten minutes, we need a basic routine, everybody ok?" he asked.

The way that Rachel began New Directions' very first attempt at competition was unique, inspired, effective. Rachel's powerful voice struck the audience from behind, nowhere near where they expected it to come from. Her rendition of Don't Rain On My Parade deservedly won her a standing ovation, she stood, centre stage, alone, supreme as she announced the rest of her team.

New Directions joined Rachel onstage and performed their hearts out, their thrown together dance routine was definitely ad hoc but it worked, they all looked like they were having fun, they sang a Rolling Stones classic, You Can't Always Get What You Want followed by an amazing version of Queen's Somebody To Love.

The second they were off stage, basking in the applause that their performance yielded for them, Finn got angry. "Someone gave out our set list," he insisted, "they must have. My money's on Coach Sylvester, she hates us," he added, seeing nods of agreement from everyone around him.

"I think you might be right," Mr Schue agreed, it had to be Sue, no one else could possibly have known about the wheelchair number. Everyone turned at the sound of the bongs from the speaker in the dressing room. "Guys this is it, let's go face the music, you gave it all you had, it's in the hands of the judges now. Let's go get the result," he said tightly.

New Directions stood nervously along side their rivals. A few of them sent malevolent glances towards the cheating teams, especially their coaches, they had to be in league with Sue Sylvester.

"In third place," the MC announced, reading from his prompt card, "Haverbrook School For The Deaf," he cried, holding his arm up for their leader to collect the trophy. After the applause died down the MC looked at his prompts again. "In second place, Jane Addams Correctional School For Girls," he yelled above the cheers as New Directions realised what both of his announcements meant. "In first place," the MC cried after the second trophy had been awarded, "from McKinley High School, Lima, Ohio, New Directions," he shouted, handing the huge first place trophy to Mr Schue. The celebrations were well and truly justified.

Puck was still smiling as he stopped his truck outside his house. "I can't believe we won, it's like, I don't know," he said, still sounding quite shocked, surprised.

"Well I'm not surprised, we were better," Quinn replied, sounding incredibly superior, picking an imaginary piece of fluff from her skirt. "Who's car is that?" she asked suddenly, seeing the extra car parked on the driveway.

"My nana's," Puck sighed, leaning back in his seat a little. "Think you're ready to face the interrogation?" he asked, his face screwed up a little, his eyes squinted shut. "She's bound to have something to say about this," he said a little sadly as his hand stroked across their baby.

Puck's Nana Puckerman sat in the lounge with his mom and his sister. "Ah, Noah, you're back," she cried, jumping up to grasp him into a rib busting hug.

"Hey Nana, how was your drive?" Puck murmured as he tried to take a breath, his chest constricted by his nana's strong arms.

"It was boring and long," Josephine Puckerman replied. "Mwah," she kissed Puck several times leaving bright pink lipstick all over his face. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" she asked, suddenly spotting Quinn hovering nervously near the door.

"Nana this is Quinn Fabray, my girlfriend, Quinn this is my nana, Josephine Puckerman," Puck said, rolling his eyes at Quinn, she couldn't help the little smile that tried to escape at the look on his face.

"Something you think you should have told me, Noah?" Josephine asked as she took a longer look at the nervous blond.

"Errm, Nana," Puck said then swallowed loudly. "Errm," he tried again. "This is Quinn and she's pregnant, it's a girl," he announced faintly as his nana stared at him.

"So you're going to be a daddy, Noah," Josephine commented, nodding her head, her eyes narrowed as she looked at both Puck and Quinn, where they stood, hand in hand, Puck a little in front of Quinn, protecting her. "Are you ready for responsibilities like that?" she asked.

"We haven't made any firm decisions yet Nana," Puck admitted, giving Quinn's hand a supportive little jiggle. "We're working on it."

"Hmm," Josephine nodded, still looking at the two of them, weighing them up. "I've had an idea that's been jangling round my head for the last six months, any chance we can talk tomorrow?" she asked, her eyebrow raised in question.

"Sure Nana," Puck agreed. "Is anyone hungry?" he asked. "I'm making lasagne, the rest of the team are coming over in an hour," he told them, pulling Quinn towards the kitchen with him. "Feel like being my commis chef?" he asked Quinn.

"Sure," Quinn replied quietly, anything was better than being left under the gaze of Puck's sharp eyed nana.

"We won by the way, thanks for asking," Puck called over his shoulder just before the kitchen door closed behind him.

"That was awesome," Finn sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his full stomach. "I can't believe you made that all by yourself," he said in amazement.

"Hey, he had some help," Quinn cried as Puck soaked up the adoration for his superb cooking. "I chopped vegetables and stuff," she pouted, "and I cleaned."

"You did, thank you commis chef," Puck agreed, "and you did a fantastic job," he praised, reaching around Quinn's shoulders to pull her close. "And now I think it's late enough, we've had a long, long day and I think someone needs to get to bed," he said, nodding towards Quinn and her tired face.

"I am tired," Quinn agreed as everyone helped to take the plates and stuff back into the kitchen. Josephine supervised the clean up, getting everyone to pull their weight, order was achieved in a very short space of time. "Good night guys," Quinn called as she waved from the door step along with Puck and his family.

"Tired?" Puck asked as she leaned in to him.

"Mmm," Quinn nodded, stifling a yawn.

"You go on up, I won't be long," Puck said quietly, giving Quinn a quick rub on her back. Quinn did so, looking back as she neared the top of the stairs. Puck waited till she'd gone. "I thought you'd probably have something to say about her living here," he said to his nana, "I thought we should probably get it all over with in one go," he suggested, prepared for her disappointment about the situation her grandson had found himself in.

Josephine nodded, she looked as though she was considering her words carefully. "Hmm, ok Noah," she began then sat forward in her seat. "I can't say I'm happy that you're about to become a father, Noah, but I commend you for stepping up and taking responsibility," she said with a gently nod. "But I think you could do more, should do more," she announced, Puck looked back in surprise. "I'm considering opening a restaurant here in Lima, a kosher restaurant," Josephine explained. "I'd like you to be involved too," she offered. "I think you could go far," she added.

Puck gulped. "How involved?" he asked nervously.

"Initially to work evenings and weekends under the tutelage of the head chef, eventually, after school, college, some work experience, to take over, maybe open other branches," Josephine explained her plan, her dream. "Do you think you might be interested?" she asked.

Puck nodded. Yes, yes he was interested, he'd always been interested, ever since he could copy whatever his Nana Connie was cooking, making, creating.

"Good, we'll talk about it some more tomorrow," Josephine said with a smile before she kissed her grandson goodnight.

Week Twenty-two - Each week, your baby looks more and more like he will at birth. His head is more in proportion to his body at this point. He weighs about 12.5 ounces, and is about 12 inches long.

Quinn walked down the hallway towards her locker, her step slow and laboured, her whole body felt heavy, unwieldy and she had the mother of all headaches. Quinn heard Mercedes call her from down the corridor, but it sounded as though she was calling through water, Quinn glanced around, wondering who was making the excruciating whistling sound that was trying to drown out all other sounds, she felt the floor shift under her feet, saw the walls tilt in to meet her. "Oh crap," Quinn whispered as she fainted, her body slumping inelegantly to the floor.

"Quiiiiiiinn," Mercedes shouted, running the length of the hallway to reach her friend. "Call Puck, find Puck," she shouted as she reached Quinn. "Someone get Puck, get the nurse," she called, her voice transmitting her fear. "Quinn? Quinn? Can you hear me?" she asked, nudging Quinn's cheek with gentle fingers.

Puck arrived as Quinn came round. "Is she ok?" he demanded. "How is she? Is she ok?" he shouted, pleading for someone to tell him that Quinn was fine.

"I'm ok," Quinn replied faintly, her hand fluttering to her face, she could feel the perspiration clinging to her skin. "What happened?" she asked.

"You fainted," Mercedes answered. "You look terrible," she added with a hint of apology.

"Have you still got a headache?" Puck asked. Quinn nodded then wished she hadn't. "I'm taking you to the hospital," he announced, he didn't expect or receive an argument, Quinn knew that whatever she was feeling right at this moment, it wasn't normal, she didn't feel normal.

"I'm going to admit her," the ER doctor told Puck. "I need to contact her parents, have you got their number?" he asked. He'd asked Quinn but her answer had been a bit garbled.

"What's wrong with her?" Puck asked nervously, he had an idea, he'd read the baby books back to front.

"It's either a condition called pre-eclampsia or she has a virus," the doctor explained, he looked worried. "Either way, she is very ill. Have you got that number for her parents? I really need to contact them."

"Errm, she's estranged from her parents," Mr Schue answered for Puck, knowing that Puck was close to falling apart. "I'll go and see them, see if they want to be involved," he assured Puck. "Go, sit with Quinn, talk to her, she's scared, she needs you," he urged Puck quietly.

Puck sucked it up and went back to Quinn's bedside, he could see the swelling in her face, see the pain in her eyes, he just knew that she wasn't her usual self.

The virus that had invaded Quinn's body ravaged her immune system, she tried to fight it off but it was a battle that Quinn was losing. The doctors decided that she would make a better recovery if she was asleep. Puck sat hour after hour with her, every second hoping that Quinn would make a full recovery, hoping that her parents wouldn't come, hoping that they would. Eventually Puck fell asleep too, his head resting on Quinn's hand.

"I'm sorry Mr Schuester," Reverend Fabray said with a smile that resembled a sneer. "I don't see why you're here, my daughter chose her path, she chose to defy God's word, His law, she is responsible for herself," he intoned piously.

"Your daughter is quite possibly seriously ill," Mr Schuester explained to Reverend Fabray, looking at his wife, hoping for something, some sort of reaction. "Poor Quinn," he thought to himself, "growing up surrounded by God but no forgiveness." He tried one last time. "I would have thought it was your duty to forgive her," Mr Schue stated before he left the Fabray family home without a backward glance and with absolutely no doubt that neither Russell nor Judy Fabray would make any effort to see their daughter, no matter how ill she was.

"Can we come in?" Rachel asked quietly from the doorway.

Puck turned at Rachel's voice, he was touched to see all of their friends, all of New Directions waiting to come in to see Quinn, see that she was ok. "Sure," he agreed, standing up and stretching to relieve the ache from sitting so long.

"Do you think she'd mind if we sang to her?" Rachel asked. "Just-just, quietly," she assured Puck when he looked like he was about to object.

"Sure," Puck agreed, "it can't hurt, right?" he asked tiredly.

Rachel ushered everyone into place, into formation then pressed play on the ipod she'd brought with her. Rachel began to sing.

"You're not alone
Together we stand
I'll be by your side
You know I'll take your hand"

Finn took over.

"When it gets cold
And it feels like the end
There's no place to go
You know I won't give in
No, I won't give in"

Everyone joined in.

"Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you
I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through"

Rachel sang alone.

"So far away
I wish you were here
Before it's too late
This could all disappear"

Mercedes took the next part.

"Before the doors close
And it comes to an end
With you by my side, I will fight and defend
I'll fight and defend
Yeah, yeah"

Everyone sang the chorus.

Rachel took the final solo piece.

"Hear me when I say, when I say I believe
Nothing's gonna change
Nothing's gonna change destiny
Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"

Everyone joined in with the harmonies and to sing out the final chorus.

"La da da da
La da da da
La da da da da da da da da

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you
I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through

Keep holding on
Keep holding on

There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through"

Puck hugged all of his team mates as they left the room, thanked them all for making the effort, for showing both him and Quinn, if she heard them through her drugged sleep, that they cared. He was glad that someone did.

"May I come in?" a soft voice asked from the doorway.

Puck turned and saw a very tearful Judy Fabray hovering, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. "Come in," he invited, his voice husky through lack of use, he hadn't spoken to anyone since the doctor had left about two hours before.

"How is she?" Judy asked, stroking her daughter's hot hand.

"She's sedated right now, they're hoping to bring her temperature and her blood pressure down," Puck choked out.

"Will she be ok?" Judy managed to asked, she didn't know if she really wanted the answer.

"Yeah, yeah," Puck answered distractedly as Quinn began to surface from her induced sleep. "She'll be ok, they both will," he added, his words held more hope than truth. Puck had prayed and prayed that they would be ok, he'd give his all to make it so…