One slow movement of the head, side to side, eyes sad and apologetic.
Thats what sent his walls crashing down.
"I'm sorry."
Those two words made his knees weak, and his heart stop for a second.
"So, so sorry.."
It's too late for words.
He can't hear, he can't see, he can't breathe.
He doesn't feel the comforting hand on his back, courtesy of Rachel Berry. He doesn't see the tears gather in Finn's eyes. He doesn't hear the muffled sobs coming from god knows who.
And he doesn't feel the single tear falling down his cheek.
"...Just too much bleeding..."
She had grown to be his everything. Her, along with there daughter.
They had grown closer and closer, planning there life together with there daughter.
There daughter, who had taken away Quinn's life.
"...Nothing we could do..."
It takes everything in him not to hate that little girl, not even a day old.
He can't help but feel a sense of anger towards her. He knows it's wrong, but what's right in this situation?
Quinn's dead. His daughter is motherless. He has to raise a daughter, alone.
So the answer is nothing.
"I'm sorry."
She had been so happy. So, so happy.
After she had gotten used to it, she'd grown to love that baby. She'd been eagerly awaiting for her to be born. A little girl to love, play with, and dress up. Her own little girl.
A little girl she was looking forward to, but would never get to have.
They'd been ready. As ready as they could be, two teenagers expecting a baby.
Now that she was gone, what was he supposed to do?
"..Come see the baby..."
It's Rachel again. He finds himself being ushered down a hallway, looking through a glass window.
"...Right there..."
Sure enough, there's a tiny baby in one of the bassinetts, a name tag on the end reading, "Baby Girl Puckerman"
Oh, god, what does he do now?
Rachel leaves him alone, leaving him with a single pat on the back.
He'll screw her up. He'll fail her.
He'll dissapoint Quinn.
He won't be a good enough father. He'll have no idea what to do, no idea what to say.
God, he doesn't even know what to name her. What will he do when major things come up if he can't even come up with a damn name?
Lily.
Lily. The name Quinn had loved, and he secretly didn't mind, but acted like he hated just to annoy her and make her laugh.
He can still hear her, still see that day.
"Come on! It's so cute! You know, Lily, like the flower."
"That has gotta be the sissiest name I've ever heard."
"Puck! No its not! It's perfect. It's sweet and cute and even a little bit tough."
He laughs. "Tough? Even Quinn is a tougher name then Lily."
"Well, I think it's cute. And my opinion is all that matters. So there."
She had playfully stuck her tongue out at him, and he'd laughed.
What'd he'd give to go back to that day. Just to hear her voice.
He hears her words playing over and over again in his head. He keeps replaying it purposely, because he doesn't want to forget.
He just wants to pretend she's here with him, looking at their daughter. Picking out a name thats cute and sweet and even a little tough.
He just needs her.
He feels the tears gather in his eyes, and he makes no move to wipe them away. He just breaks down. He can't help it.
His back against the wall, he slides down, his shoulders shaking and his head in his hands.
Why'd she have to go?
Why? Why did she leave him here alone to take care of this brand new baby he knew nothing about?
Why did he sleep with her? Why did he let her drink all those wine coolers?
Why did he get her pregnant?
Goddammit, why did this happen?
Why won't this nightmare end so he can go back to life with Quinn?
Questions run through his mind, needing to be solved.
He finds, in time, that no one has the answers.
~*~*~*~*~*
He leaves the hospital two days later with Lily Quinn Fabray Puckerman.
~*~*~*~*~*
He goes to the funeral without her a week later.
He skips half to sit in his car and cry.
~*~*~*~*~*
He visits her grave the day after it's put there.
He brings Lily and introduces her to her mother that would've loved her to no end.
He leaves after a few minutes because his chest hurts and he can't bear thinking about it anymore.
~*~*~*~*~*
He breaks three things throughout the next few weeks:
A mirror when his daughter won't stop crying, he has no idea what to do, and all he can think is that he wishes she were here to help him.
His finger when he punches the wall after he sees Quinn's father in the store. Her father sees the baby that resembles Quinn exactly, and he walks out of the store after one glance.
And his wrist. He doesn't remember how. He'd been wallowing all day, then dropped his daughter off at his mothers. He'd drank all day, without stopping. Then he'd gotten in his truck and returned two days later, a gash on his cheek and a wrist turned in a way it shouldn't.
~*~*~*~*
Over the next few years, he heals. Never completely, because he could never, no matter how hard he tried or how much time passed.
He loves his daughter, and he misses Quinn everyday.
There will always be something inside him, telling him something isn't completely right.
Things go good for him, but nothing will ever be complete.
~*~*~*~*~
Did that make any sense? I don't even know if I came up with this, because my fingers went on autopilot and just typed this. So blame them if it's not good.
I know it's like all over the place, but whatever. I just love writing Puck and this just basically smacked me in the face & my fingers took over from there.
I hope you like[: