Emma looked up, roused from her methodical hand-cleaning by a knock at the door. Smiling, she waved her hand, an indication for entry. Quinn came in, tears trickling down her face. "Quinn, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Emma asked softly, toying with placing her hand on the girl's shoulder.

Quinn sniffled, looking up. "It's just…Beth." The tears began to fall more freely from her speckled blue-green eyes, stabbing Emma's heart with a desire to help her.

"Your baby?"

Gasping, Quinn replied, "Yes! I don't…I know that Shelby is a good person and all, but I don…I wish, maybe, that I'd kept her."

Taking the plunge, Emma placed her hand on Quinn's back. "Has something…has something happened? I mean, what have you done to try to get over this?"

Giggling, although it sounded more like a sob, she said thoughtfully, "Self-medicating, you mean? Well, it's not exactly a secret that I have sporadically drunk…but no pills or anything." Her voice took a serious turn, and she said softly, "I've been cutting quite a bit though."

Pulling her own sleeves down a bit, Emma said softly, her eyes wide, "What can I do to help?"

"You're already doing it. Listening and all." She eyed Emma's sleeve. "Why did you just pull down your sleeve?"

Gulping, Emma replied, "That's…don't concern yourself with that."

"You brought me vitamins when I was pregnant, you made sure that I had a place to stay. You gave me your home and cell numbers in case I needed anything. The least I can do is try to help you if you need it." She reached gently for Emma's sleeve, teasing it up. What she saw horrified her and was hauntingly familiar.

Tears welling in the depths of her eyes, Emma said softly, "I've…I was raped, Quinn. I know…I know it seems p-pathetic. I'm the guidance counselor, for G-god's sake, but still, I just…somehow it made it better."

"Are you pregnant?" Quinn's question tore through her heart like barbed wire, squeezing and then suddenly slicing.

Emma gasped. "I don't…it's too soon in the month…you know…" She trailed off, knowing that Quinn would understand.

Coming over to hug Emma, Quinn asked softly, "Did you tell Mr. Schue?"

"No…n-n-no…I wouldn't know h-how."

Looking her straight in the eyes, bluish-green orbs boring into honey-brown ones, Quinn asked, "Do you want me to?"

Gasping on what may well have been a laugh, if out of fear more than amusement, Emma replied, "N-no, Quinn. That's something that I…I h-have to do."

"If you don't tell Schue by Friday, then I will tell him for you." Quinn had a smile on her face, and Emma could tell that she had made it through the sarcasm and insincerity of her generation and class to say something real.

Managing a smile back, she replied, "Sounds fair to me." The blonde teenager came around, wrapping her arms around Emma. The redhead was shocked, for a moment, but found it lovely to melt into the embrace.