Sorrow & Despair

- so perfect & fragile-


He wants to keep her. From the first moment, he sees her, all red and wrinkly, he loves her. They place her in Quinn's arms, and the smile that light up her face at seeing her daughter was one he never imagined Quinn could show. Beth is theirs, and even though she may not be a product of love, she is the one thing that forced them together, the one thing that made him realize that all these years he loved Quinn Fabray.

And he is ashamed to admit that a part of him was pleased that she had come to him feeling fat and drunk on wine coolers, otherwise he would have never realized that he loved her with all his heart.

She is beautiful, and so is their daughter.

He could see it now, coming home from work to his two girls. Celebrating Hanukah, Christmas and all the birthdays and celebrations together. He wants so desperately to keep her, no matter how hard it would be, no matter how much he had to sacrifice. He knows from the moment she had first cried, he would do anything and everything to protect her. Beth is his baby, his daughter, and she owns half of his heart.

But he doesn't say anything along the lines of keeping her, he doesn't want to shatter the peaceful smiles from Quinn. So he just goes and sits by them, holding Quinn's hand tightly and stares down at their baby. He never could have thought something could be so perfect and so, so fragile.


She cringes slightly when she asks him if he wants to keep her, the pair staring though the glass window at their baby girl. A part of her wants to keep her, wants to run off with her in her arms and never ever let go, no matter what happens, but she knows deep inside that she isn't ready for motherhood. She can't take care of a baby, no matter how much she wants to. It's better to let her go, and know that her baby girl is loved and cared for, then struggling to make ends meet and regretting her decision later on.

She wishes that life could be like a fairytale, that he will say yes and she will agree and they will live out the rest of their lives in total happiness. But no matter what he says, she can't change her mind. Her baby deserves a better chance in life than Quinn will be able to give her. She deserves to be someone's whole world, no just the result of a few wine coolers and feeling fat.

No matter how much she loves Puck now, she can't take back how her baby was made. No matter how much she loves her baby and knows that nothing will change that, she can't let her baby grow up in a household that was fitted together a bit crookedly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that won't quite fit together.

But her heart still breaks when he looks at their baby and at her. "Yes," he says, and her heart shatters.

She really does wish that they could keep her.

But they can't.


Beth is gone, sleeping in a crib somewhere in a house that he will never be able to visit, and the thought of her hurts way too much, so much he feels like he is breaking into two pieces. He understands why they couldn't keep her, but that understanding doesn't take the dull ache in his heart away. He misses her, misses her red skin and the way she looked so much like Quinn he couldn't believe it, and the way she made him feel like he was finally maybe worth something in life.

But they couldn't keep her, they couldn't keep something so perfect without knowing that one day they would break it, even if they didn't mean to. His tears dry on the pillow slowly, and he wishes that Quinn was here, sharing in his sorrow.

He falls asleep to the thought of Beth, so perfect and fragile.


The sun wakes him up, flittering through the blinds he forgot to close last night. It hurts his eyes more than the ache in his heart, and he shifts down further into his bed, burrowing his head underneath his pillow.

Something warm shifts next to him, and for a heart-breakingly long second he thinks that maybe the whole of last night was a dream, maybe they did keep Beth all to themselves, and maybe Quinn is lying next to him, trying to catch a few hours of sleep before Beth wakes up.

He doesn't want to look up, doesn't want to shatter the happy illusion that has taken over his brain. So he doesn't, he just lays there silently hardly breathing. He waits for the sound of a baby's cry, or the sound of Quinn's mumbling just before she wakes up.

Something else shatters it but.

Sarah pokes him in his side, rolling over. "Hey, brother," she says, smiling at him gently as if she can feel his pain.

He forces the thick lump down in his throat, and forces a grin, messing up her already messy hair. "Hey, sis," he murmurs. She links her hand in his slowly. "Let's go see what Mom made for breakfast yeah? It smells amazing."

"Okay," Sarah says, standing up with a yawn.

Puck follows her down the stairs slowly, wiping a tear from his cheek.


It is the first morning that she hasn't woken up to Beth's cry and it feels horrible not to.

Quinn shifts silently on her bed, sighing. Her room feels almost alien to her, after months of camping out in Finn's basement, then sleeping in Puck's spare bedroom, then sharing a room with Mercedes from two wonderful weeks. The posters of hot celebrities seem almost silly when she looks at them, and the pictures of her and her friends seem to be from another time. They look so carefree and happy, especially her. They look so god-damned young.

Her bed though, she welcomes. She missed it so much, the special covers that she picked out, and the gigantic mass of pillows.

The curtains have been pulled up, revealing the bright sunshine outside. She rolls away from it, groaning softly when she pulls something in her stomach. It hurts too much, the pain is almost as much as the ache in her heart when she realizes that Beth isn't here waiting for her to wake up. Beth will wake up in a different house, to a different mother, for the rest of her life.

Tears fall on one of her many pillows, and she sniffles, wiping them away. She's made her bed, and slept in it. It's too late to change her mind now. Beth deserves the kind of life that Shelby will be able to give her, she doesn't deserve a mother and father who don't know if they love each other not.

Her baby girl will always be in her heart but, and she has a single photograph to remember by forever. Puck snapped one on his phone when she wasn't looking, and as much as she argued with him to delete it, that she looked horrible, she is thankful he took it.

Standing up, she stretches softly, pulling the photograph out from underneath the pillow. She smiles down at Beth, tracing her cheek with a finger.

In five minutes, all the photographs and posters and ripped down and put in the bin, except one.

The photo of Beth and her is stuck beside a photograph of Puck and her, grinning at some random party.

Quinn smiles softly at them both.


She spends the day trying to re-discover the house she used to love so much. Nothing's changed, no furtine has been moved, and no new decorations have been put up. It is exactly the same way it was when she left it months previously, but yet it feels so different.

In a way, she misses the Puckerman house. Her house is so silently, her Mom at work for the day, and no baby to distract her. She previously would have welcomed the quiet, but now she hates it. The quiet makes her think, makes her feel sad that Beth isn't her in her arms.

So she decides to cook, to keep her mind of her baby girl.

When her Mom returns home three hours later, the kitchen is filled with trays upon trays of biscuits and cupcakes and muffins. It reminds her of Puck somehow, and she wishes that he was her, holding her while she cried, and throwing flour at her like he once did.

"Wow Quinny, you sure cooked a lot today," her mother says, eyeing the trays. "I'm not sure if we'll be able to eat all of these." She smiles softly.

Quinn shrugs almost tiredly. "I was bored. And I was trying to distract myself. And if we don't eat them, I'll just take them into Glee."

She forces a soft smile at her mother. "I'm going to take a shower, alright," she tells her, already half-way up the stairs already.


Something horrible happens in the night.

She walks up to a huge wet patch in her bed, and she knows that it can't be her period, because that has already come. And it's too high up to be her period. Her mother rushes in at the sound of her yells, still dressed in her robes, a pair of fluffy slippers on her feet.

Quinn points shakily at the bed, trying unsuccessfully to dry her tears. Her mother takes a look at her, and draws her into her arms, hugging her tightly. "What happened Mom?" Quinn sobs softly.

"Oh, honey," her mother murmurs, running a hand through her loose hair. "It's just your milk, Quinny. Once your body realizes that it's producing milk for nothing, it'll dry up and disappears, you'll see."

She sobs harder at this. She doesn't want her body to stop producing milk; she wants her baby to be drinking it, instead of some crappy formula. She wants her baby here!

"I miss Beth," she sobs out into her mother's shoulder.

Her mother sniffles softly. "I know sweetie. I know."


She doesn't want to look at him, doesn't want to see that he misses her to. Quinn just wants to erase the last nine months of her life, forget everything that happened. A case of slight amnesia would be a god-sent right now.

Puck approaches her at her locker, and she looks at him softly. "I'm sorry," she whispers. Puck just shakes his head, drawing her into his embrace. She sobs softly, breaking down in the nearly empty hallway.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she wails.

"It's okay," he soothes.

But Quinn can't help to wonder, will it ever be okay?

Puck places a soft kiss on her lips, smiling sadly. He wipes her tears away with a soft swipe of his finger. Quinn smiles softly, digging through her dress pockets.

"I brought you something. Something that will help us remember our baby girl forever and ever, no matter where we are," she says, opening his hand and placing a copy of the photograph in it. She places a soft kiss on his stubbly cheek (he hasn't had a chance to shave, and hasn't be bothered to), before walking away slowly.

She misses the swell of her stomach.

But it'll be okay.

They'll be okay.


Because Journey was amazing, & I loved every second of it & when it was over I felt like bawling my eyes out. Because Puck & Quinn are amazing, together or not, and baby Beth was adorable & I wished that they would keep her. Because, well just because. Review, yeah?