Puck knocked at the door, his leg jiggling slightly. He was nervous, to say the least; he knew Mr. Shue still suspected him of stealing Finn's jacket. However, Puck was innocent- he wanted the jacket, but would not dare take it from Santana, who was clearly struggling. When no one came to the door, Puck tried the handle. The door was surprisingly unlocked. Puck stepped inside, hoping to see Mr. Shue. However, the house seemed empty.

Puck glanced into the kitchen, but it was empty as well; however, several beers rested on the table. Empty.

"Mr Shue? Mrs. Pillsberry?" he shouted. He was met with a quiet "what?"

"Hey, man, I need to talk to you," Puck said, climbing the stairs.

"Don't come in!" shouted Mr. Shue, "Please, Puck."

'No can do, Mr. Shue," Puck said, "I can't have you mad at me."

He burst unceremoniously through the door and was shocked at what he saw. Mr. Shue was crumpled into a ball on his bed, clutching Finn's letterman jacket like a life preserver. He had tears running down his cheeks and sobs racked his body. He struggled to catch his breath as Puck stood in the doorway, mouth wide open.

"Puck, it's…it's not what it….I'm sorry, Puck," Mr. Shue cried.

"Dude….it's okay," Puck whispered. A sharp stab of pain hit Puck in the stomach as another sob bubbled out of Mr. Shue's throat. Puck went over and sat on the bed, putting his arm around Will.

"He was…he was my best friend..." gasped Will.

"Mine too," murmured Puck, remembering the many hugs he and Finn had shared. Will shakily wiped his eyes, then handed the letterman jacket to Puck.

"L-listen, we should…Santana, probably. It's rightfully hers," Will whispered.

"Yeah, probably," Puck said, clutching the jacket.

Will's phone rang and he rose stiffly to get it.

"Will Shuester," he said. Puck could only hear the muttering on the other line, then saw Mr. Shue grasp at his midsection.

"Oh my god," Will whispered, "is she going to...to be okay? Yes, thank you, yes, I'm on my way."

Will hung up the phone. He stared at the floor, then in a sudden fit of rage, threw it at the wall.

"Noooo…"he moaned.

"Mr. Shue, what the hell is going on?" Puck asked urgently.

"It's Santana," he whispered back.