Hello, there! I've one simple question for you guys reading this out there: What did you think of this week's episode (s03e17) of Glee? Love it, hate it? Did your emotional dam break and release endless tears at the Klaine scene? Did Blaine's feelings for Kurt make you cry? It did for me. Share your feelings with me! (:

Besides all that, I absolutely loathed the Joe/Quinn scenes. My poor Quiff shipper heart absolutely cannot take the blossoming relationship between the both of them! Maybe that was why I wrote this so quickly; my emotions were uncontainable.

I do not own anything of Glee; make no money from the stories; the original characters belong to the creators, producers, and scriptwriters. Any events related to real life are purely coincidental.

Enough rambling. I present to you Of Rehabilitation and Confessions.


"You let Joe go to therapy with you?"

"You don't understand-"

"Hell yeah, I don't understand! Just because I can't be there for you, doesn't mean you can go gallivanting with some- some- sophomore," he spat, flinging his hand sideways. The stacks of mix tape CDs he had made for her toppled onto the floor. The crystal glass casings shattered upon the contact on the wooden floor.

She winced. "Don't you dare. Don't you freaking dare turn this around to you and make it seem like it's my fault," she shot back, a finger pointing accusingly up at him.

"You told me you were going to therapy with a friend, but of all people, teen Jesus?" he asked with accusation in his voice. His eyes were narrowed at her, waiting for her to answer him. She met his gaze steadily until discomfort made her glance away. "Why him? Sam or Puck would be fine with me, but some guy you just met a mere week and a half ago?"

The New Directioner locked her jaw, anger etched in her fierce hazel green eyes. "You do not get to chastise me. Jeff Sterling. What I do at physical therapy and whom I go with is none of your business!" she yelled at him, daring him to challenge her. "It is also not my fault that he-"

He was pacing her bedroom, frustration blazing in his eyes, almost radiating from his entire being. He couldn't- wouldn't- meet her eyes. He was scared, afraid that he might lash out at her. No, he will not take it out on her. But how was it his fault? What wrong did he commit that made her say that? He ran a hand over his tired face, sighing as he did. What should he say to her now? He couldn't afford to hurt her anymore than she already was now. Not now, not ever. Not even after her accident. That was enough hurt for her to endure for a lifetime.

"Then, pray tell, Quinn Fabray, how is it my fault?" he scoffed to the wall, back turned to her. He felt her penetrating glare burn into his back, willing him to turn around to meet her eyes.

He heard her suck in a breath. Then she said with malice in her voice, "Where were you when I was admitted into the hospital? When I needed you to be there for me in my moment of need?"

So this was what it was about. His absence on the day of her accident. Of course, he thought with another scoff. Of course it all was about what he did. Never what she did wrong, because pretty, popular Quinn Fabray was never wrong.

He turned around so suddenly, blonde hair whipping his face, falling across his eye. "I never heard about what happened to you until after you came out from surgery," he hissed. "Because none of your friends had bothered calling me, not during, not after you went into the ER. It was your friends who neglected to inform me, your boyfriend, about the whole accident.

"My friends had to be the one to tell me about the whole thing. After two freaking days," he yelled, throwing his hands up. "Two days. And there I was, thinking that you were actually having fun at Rachel and Finn's wedding reception until you had forgotten about me." He leaned down, hands on either side of Quinn's chair, trapping her in. "I respected you enough to give you space and not be a clingy boyfriend to you, that was why I didn't hound nor bombard you with texts and calls." She refused to look him in the eye, instead focusing her gaze on the carpeted floor. Tears had welled up in her eyes.

He straightened himself. "And this brings me to my original question: why did you let Joe go to physical therapy with you?" he demanded with a cross of his arms across his taut chest. "Why didn't you even bother calling me? I would've gladly gone with you if you asked, you know that."

Still, she wouldn't meet his eyes. Her focus was trained on the same spot on the floor. She sniffed once, twice. Then a single tear spilled from her left eye.

The first tear was always the saddest.

"Quinn," he softened his voice, kneeling down in front of her. "Answer me, Quinn." He locked the brakes on her wheelchair and took both her hands in his. "Please," he added with a desperate whisper.

"He- he- he offered to go with me," she whispered so softly to the floor. "H- he insisted, sa- saying that it was the only Christian thing to do." She looked up to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "He played the religion card with me!" The tears were streaming freely down her face now as she explained to him with teary eyes. "And- and I didn't expect to- to feel-" She was choking out her explanation, struggling.

He held up a hand to stop her. "Okay, that's enough," he said gently, but avoided meeting her eyes. He knew what had happened today at her therapy; she felt something in her right leg, something that she wasn't supposed to feel from someone other than her own boyfriend. He only knew because she had immediately called him, voice frightened and scared. She also sounded on the brink of tears, on the brink of falling apart.

"I know you would've gone with me, but I- but I just didn't want to look w-weak to anyone," she added. "Especially you."

"I'm sorry, Quinn," he whispered as he leaned his forehead on their clasped hands. "I'm so sorry."

He felt her lean her head on his. "I'm sorry, too, Jeff, for not telling you from the very beginning. I was just being selfish, and I-"

"I know, Quinn, I know," he repeated. He kissed her hands, and looked up. Finally, he was brave enough to look her in the eye. A flood of emotions flickered through her eyes; relief, happiness, even a hint of sadness. He knew why she was sad.

She sighed, her minty breath tickling his senses. "Jeff, I-"

The Warbler shook his head. "You felt something today, in your legs. Forget about what he did to you, for the moment," he said softly with another shake of his head. "This means- This means you're getting better." A slow laugh bubbled out, and she laughed along with him. "You're going to walk again!" he said louder this time. He burst into joyful laughter. Unwilling tears of joy welled up in his brown eyes as he kissed her clasped hands once again.

"I'm going to walk, Jeff," she agreed with a determined nod of her blonde head. "I'm going to dance on the stage at Nationals."

He laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. The tears finally flowed down his cheeks. Jeff couldn't help but to gather his girlfriend in a hug- a simple gesture that spoke volumes. A hug to let her know that he would always be there for her, for better or for worse; a hug to let her know that she will make it; a hug that meant that told her that he would never let her go.

He planted a kiss to her temple. "And I'll be with you at every step of the way," Jeff whispered into her hair. "Every single step you take, I'll be there. You can count on me to."

She buried her face deeper into the crook of his neck. "Promise me."

"I promise."


I sincerely hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed spilling out my anger and frustrations onto this one shot.

Do let me know what you thought of the story (and not to mention your feels about this week's episode!) by clicking the cute blue button that says 'Review' down there.

Much love, hugs, and kisses from Kayy.