This was originally supposed to be a one-shot but it will probably be about four or five chapters. The story kind of spawned from another fan-fic I wrote called Broken starring Finn and Rachel. I recommend reading it but it's not required to understand what's going on here. I'm sorry, but I don't remember the name of Puck's sister. I think it's Katie but I can't be completely sure.

Quinn smoothed out the front of her poufy white dress as if she were trying to change the pattern of it. She had to admit that she looked pretty, but the princess look was so predictable. She would never tell anyone this, but she always pictured getting married barefoot on a beach with her hair loose and flowing. She shrugged her shoulders, the wedding was tomorrow, no point in trying to change things now.

Suddenly she heard soft tapping on her window. "Quinn, hey Quinn open up."

She would know that alcohol tinged voice anywhere. "Go away Puck" she said rolling her eyes.

"Come on, let me in," Puck persisted.

"Fine," she sighed, going up to the window and opening it.

"Hey, you look… wow" he said.

"That's not an adjective" she said.

"Sorry, I just got back from the bar, I am sooo wasted right now."

"Yeah, clearly. What do you want Puck?"

"I thought I'd just come here and you know congratulate you on marrying that Greg dude."

"His name is Grant"

"Yeah, you shouldn't marry that guy Quinn… he's… he's an asshole."

"This is how you congratulate me?"

"Why are you marrying him? Is it just to punish me or something because, that's low."

"Yes I'm devoting my life to another person just to spite you" she said sarcastically.

"Why are you marrying him?" he repeated.

"Because Puck, because I love him. You know that's just what you do when you love someone" She didn't speak in anger, if anything she sounded sympathetic towards Puck.

"You don't love him, you love his money maybe."

"Okay you're drunk, stop right now before you say something even stupider."

"He's going to hurt you, I know his type, shit I was his type. The difference is I was 16, what is he 40? 50?"

"He's 32 Puck" she sighed.

"What happened to us Quinn? We were happy once right? Wde loved each other?"

"Of course we did, and the masochist in me will always love you, but you're just too late. There was only so much I could take you know."

"You're right, you're totally right I don't know what I was thinking coming here. So… let's get married"

"Puck, please"

"We should just do it, go up to Niagara Falls and do it. You already have the dress."

"Puck, I can't marry you. I'm sorry"

"Really? That sucks" Just then he passed out, landing at her feet. Quinn rolled her eyes and grabbed a blanket off of her bed, throwing it over him. She would explain her unconcious drunken ex later.

Nobody really put much thought into why Noah Puckerman quit his job, sold his motorcycle and bought a one-way ticket to Europe in the summer of 2016. They figured he left for the same reason anyone left Lima, because it was Lima. Only Puck and Quinn knew that it was no accident that his departure took place one week after her wedding. Once he got there he wondered why he didn't do it sooner. Amsterdam was the perfect place for a rebel like him, he always dreamed of going there with nothing but his guitar, earning his keep playing on the streets, smoking legal weed by the barrel and bedding a different beautiful woman every other night. It was great... for awhile. He just didn't count on every one of those girls he slept with looking just like Quinn in his mind. He also didn't count on the crushing loneliness that came with being away from home in a foreign city where nobody would really care if he fell off of the face of the earth. Still it couldn't have been less painful then being in the same state as the woman he loved and her husband.

He knew she was right to turn him down, he was never the best boyfriend. Even though he loved her he couldn't help himself around other girls and it destroyed them in the long run. Somehow all of the stuff that had pushed Quinn away seemed meaningless to him after awhile, sleeping around with random women just left him feeling empty inside. Quinn was all he needed and he was just too stupid to realize it when he could have had her.

"Hey baby, where are you going?" Puck said as he caught the latest in a long line of one-night stands sneaking out of his shithole apartment.

"Home" she said simply in her sexy Dutch accent, "But last night was great."

"Yeah, I was thinking, maybe we could get some breakfast or something" Puck said.

"Listen Tuck"

"Puck" he corrected.

"Sorry, Puck. You're really hot, and Last night was fun, but I'm not interested in taking it any further, I think explained that when we met."

"Come on it's just breakfast, you gotta eat right?"

"I would… but you have to answer your phone" she said shuffling out as Puck's phone began to ring

"He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and picked up the phone"

"Hello" he said.

"Puck? A small voice said on the other line"

"Sis? What happened? You sound sad."

"Come home Puck" she said with tears in her throat.

"Why? What happened?" he repeated.

"Mom is dead."