Just like I promised - the sequel to Crash My Party!

Enjoy, y'all! And if you could, please leave me a nice little review. :)

Xoxo.

Chapter 1: Drink a Beer

So I'm gonna sit right here
On the edge of this pier,
Watch the sunset disappear
And drink a beer.
Funny how the good ones go
Too soon, but the good lord knows
The reasons why it gets...
Sometimes the greater plan is kinda hard to understand,
Right now it don't make sense.
I can't make it all make sense...

It was drizzling by the time they reached the Evans' house. People spilled out onto the front porch, a mass of bodies in black, and their expressions were sombre enough to match the dark clouds that threatened to break open over them. Standing beside Puck, who'd flown in from California earlier that day, Quinn clenched and unclenched her fingers into fists, desperately wishing there was some way to break the tension. She'd never visited the Evans house in Tennessee, but Sam had talked about it so much that it had begun to feel like a place she'd once been. And it had been warm, loud, full of love and light – not sad and quiet, like it was now.

"You doing okay?" Santana, dressed in a nearly-inappropriate black mini dress, touched Quinn on the shoulder comfortingly, her voice a soft whisper.

"I'm fine. Have you seen him yet?"

"Not since the burial," Santana sighed, leaning forward to give Puck a quick, one-armed hug.

"This is…unreal," Puck breathed out shakily, as they made their way through the front door. There was a dull buzz that filled the house, Southern accents blending with one another, as they shuffled past worried relatives, concerned family friends, and over-enthusiastic neighbours clutching casseroles and cakes.

They found an empty spot near the staircase and stood there awkwardly, smiling politely at the strangers who passed them, trying to blend into the wall as much as they could. It wasn't until Puck and Santana had left to get drinks that Quinn heard it – a soft, muffled cry that came from someone who had been holding it in for too long. She swivelled around, trying to pinpoint where it came from, until her eyes landed on the small closet under the stairs. Taking a tentative step, she knocked on the door to no response at first, but she pushed ahead anyways, and opened it slowly. There, nearly completely hidden from sight, were Stacy and Stevie, holding onto each other for dear life. Quinn immediately folded herself into the small closet, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Hey, guys," she said softly, settling uncomfortably in the mass of coats and other junk that lay on the floor. Resting her elbow on a nearby vacuum cleaner, she twisted her legs to fit into the small space and gave the kids a small smile. "It's certainly cosy in here,"

Stevie looked up at her and she noticed his arm was curled around his little sister's shoulders protectively. "Everybody outside is too sad," he muttered.

"Yeah, they are. You know why, right?"

"Because Daddy's in heaven," Stacy answered quietly. Quinn smiled and reached over to tuck the little girl's hair behind her ears. It had been so long since she'd seen the younger Evans kids – there had been a time when she'd seen them nearly every single day. It had been hard to see Sam's family go through their troubles, but Quinn didn't regret it one bit – not only did it bring them back together, it let her spend time with a family that actually knew how to be a family. Tears sprang to her eyes, as she thought about the Evans' unfailing kindness.

"That's right, Stace. Your dad's in heaven," Quinn said softly.

"Quinn? Do you think he's playing baseball with Billy Southworth?" Stevie asked.

She cocked her head to one side thoughtfully, before answering him. "I'm afraid I don't know who that is, but I'm sure your dad's having a grand old time up there,"

"Billy Southworth is a Cardinal," Stevie chuckled lightly

"Oh! Well, you know what? I think Billy's having a blast with your dad up in heaven,"

"I think Daddy's having a tea party," Stacy chimed in.

"You do?" Quinn's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as the little girl nodded her head. Stacy's expression slowly shifted and tears welled up in her bright green eyes. "Oh, Stace, I didn't mean…"

"Dad promised to have a tea party with her after he…after he was supposed to come back from fishing," Stevie explained, pulling his little sister closer into him.

"Oh," Quinn whispered. Hoisting herself up from the vacuum cleaner, she settled in next to Stacy, lifting the little girl's chin so she could look her in the eyes. "You know what, Stace? I bet your daddy is the one pouring out the tea and handing out the biscuits – even to Billy Southworth,"

Stacy giggled and Stevie snorted, trying to hide his laughter. "What would Billy be doing at a tea party?" he asked with a smirk.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but everybody needs to drink and have a snack - even all-star Cardinals," Quinn teased, tapping Stevie on the nose.

"If daddy's having drinks and snacks in heaven, maybe we can have them, too? At the same time?" Stacy asked hopefully.

Quinn nodded. "Sure, sweetie," she said, shuffling towards the door again. With her fingers curled around the knob, she took a breath and turned back to the face the younger kids. "You guys know that a lot of people are going to want to talk to you, right? Is that okay?"

"It's okay," Stevie swallowed his nerves, his fingers finding Quinn's. "Let's go,"

Quinn bit her lip, realizing in that moment that Stevie wasn't the happy-go-lucky kid she used to babysit for anymore. He had grown almost overnight into a young man and there was darkness in his green eyes that wouldn't subside. Glancing over to her other side, where Stacy had also shoved her hand into Quinn's, she found a scared little girl, whose whole perfect world shattered from one phone call. Their biggest hero was gone and nothing was going to change that.

Considering how much she thought her life had been screwed up lately, it really put things into perspective.

She turned the doorknob and half-crawled, half-walked out of the closet, leading the kids straight to the kitchen. Luckily, everybody else seemed preoccupied with the free-flow of food and drink, so they slipped by unnoticed. In the kitchen, Quinn hoisted Stacy up onto the counter and grabbed two juice boxes from the fridge. She snatched up a plate of crab cakes and tea sandwiches, placing everything in front of the kids. "So…how do tea parties usually go in the Evans house?" Quinn asked, playfully tapping Stacy on the nose.

The little girl sighed noisily, her shoulders sagging, as if all her fight and excitement had fallen out of her. "It's okay, Quinnie. We don't have to do it,"

"You sure, Stace?"

"I think daddy probably wants some one-on-one time with Billy, huh, Stace?" Stevie prompted, his chin resting on the palm of his hand wearily. He swiped a cookie from the tray in front of him and shoved it into his mouth, barely taking the time to chew it thoroughly. Stacy nodded at her brother and gave Quinn a weak smile, before she took the juice box and sipped it carefully.

"There y'all are,"

Sam's voice pierced through the silence, his Southern drawl sounding more pronounced than it did in the city. Quinn didn't need to turn around to know it was him, but Stacy hopped off the counter to hug her oldest brother around his legs. When he finally rounded to face Quinn, she was taken aback by how defeated he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and his lips were chapped, his cheeks ashen and stained from tears. His blonde hair was unkempt and his suit was wrinkled, but nothing was worse than the look in his eyes – lost, tired, and aching for a heart that was no longer beating.

"Hi, Quinn," he murmured, balancing Stacy on his hip.

"Hi," she replied quietly, coaxing the juice box out of the little girl's fingers. "I hope it's okay that I gave them a little something to eat,"

"No, it's fine," Sam shook his head, rubbing his Stacy's back soothingly. Quinn's eyes fixated on the way he held his little sister, his muscles tensing to hold her close. "Actually, could you hang out with them for a bit? I need to sort some stuff out with my mom and…I don't think my aunts and uncles are so great for them right now,"

"Absolutely," she replied automatically, her arms outstretched so Stacy could transfer into them easily. "Just like old times, right?"

Sam chuckled shortly, running his fingers through his hair. "Not quite, but…yeah. Thanks, though. I really appreciate it. Where's everybody else?"

" I'm not sure, actually. Maybe out back?"

"Take the kids out, if you want. It might be good for them to get some air," Sam suggested, mussing up Stevie's hair, before giving them all a weak smile and walking out of the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath and letting it back out, she knew the time for her and Sam to have a serious talk would have to wait. There were more important things to do now, more important decisions that would have to be made.

Important things that didn't include her.

Later that day, after the rain had cleared and everybody had left the Evans house, Quinn found herself pacing back and forth in her hotel room, her teeth gnawing at her fingernails. Dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white, peasant top, she wasn't entirely sure why she even bothered changing into a somewhat decent outfit – despite everybody being in the same city together, it wasn't like it was the time for a Glee club reunion.

"You've got everything you need?" Mike asked, tapping on the open door that joined their rooms together.

"Yeah, I do, thanks," Quinn smiled, crossing the room to give her best friend a quick hug.

"How you doing, Fabray?"

"I'm alright,"

"Don't lie to me," he chuckled, tugging on her low ponytail. "The truth,"

Quinn walked back towards the bed, flopping backwards onto the mattress. "I'm confused," she breathed out.

"As expected," Mike shrugged, joining her. "You want to tell me what happened when Tina talked to you the other night?"

"It was more or less the same," Quinn raised herself up on her elbows to face her best friend properly. "She told me she was going to break up with Sam. That she wasn't mad or sad, that it was just time for her to move on – that it made sense for both of them to move on. And then…"

"And then Sam's dad passed away,"

"Right. And as much as I want to ask whether or not Tina and Sam are still together, I can't. Not when all of this is going on, not when he's got so much to think about. His dad is gone, Mike," she sniffed, frowning. "Those kids lost a hero today,"

"I know," Mike murmured, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. "All we can do is just be there for him, you know? But Sam's strong; he'll get through it,"

"Eventually, he will, but it's just…he has to be strong. He can't fall apart because he knows his family needs him now, more than ever. It's just a matter of time before he breaks down," Quinn replied, biting her lip.

Silence fell between them and she could feel Mike shifting his body to make himself more comfortable. After several minutes of quiet, he spoke again. "Does this remind you of Fleetwood Mac week?"

Quinn chuckled, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips. "A little," she conceded, after some thought. "He'll keep it all inside and if we push him, he'll burst – like he did in the choir room that day,"

"So we should just sit back and do nothing?"

"Of course not. I don't know. I'm…"

"Confused?" Mike chuckled.

She groaned, grabbing a pillow and hitting her best friend with it. "Like you know where you stand with Tina?"

"I don't," he shrugged. "But I figure it'll all work out in the end. Fate and all that, you know?"

Quinn nodded. "What if fate doesn't work for me?"

Mike wrinkled his nose, his mind obviously in deep thought. After several seconds, he finally said,

"Then you've got to use a little bit of faith."

Meet me at Gossett River.

She reread the text message for the tenth time, as she meandered through the twisting tree roots embedded in the forest ground. The sun was about to set, its last bits of orange slowly disappearing behind the horizon, and Quinn took a breath, reminding herself to commit it to memory – a picturesque sunset was hard to come by in New York. She exhaled and shivered slightly, the cool night air washing over her blanketed arms. As she neared the clearing at the end of the dirt path she'd been traveling on, Quinn noticed a familiar figure sitting at the docks. A six-pack was next to him, none of them opened, and from just the outline of a muscular back, she knew his feet would be swinging above the river, his toes grazing the still waters.

"Hey, stranger," she chirped, walking down the docks to sit next to him. Curling her legs against herself, she rested her chin on her knees and gazed out at the river – a little swampy and abandoned, but just as quaint and quintessentially Southern as she thought it'd be.

"Hey," one corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile, but she didn't need to face him to know it. "Did you get lost coming here?"

"No, the cab driver you sent seemed to know it just fine – thanks for that, by the way,"

"No worries," he breathed out and wiped his hands on his old Levi's, his callused fingers leaving nearly unrecognizable streaks in the denim. "Welcome to Tennessee," Sam gestured, holding his arms out in front of him, before leaning back on his hands, the length of his torso stretching out against the wooden dock.

"It's beautiful here," she whispered.

"Not exactly city life,"

"No, it's not. I guess that's what makes it beautiful," Quinn sighed, watching the river flow, its current slow and steady. She was content just to sit and bask in the quiet, but after several moments of silence between the two of them, she felt a familiar, rough thumb against the bare skin of her wrist. Every muscle in her body froze, her heart beating so loudly that she was sure the whole town could hear it. It was insane that a touch from a thumb, from a small sliver of skin, could make her feel like she was about to explode with electricity.

"Thank you. For everything today…I know my mom really appreciates it," Sam murmured, his fingers now tracing the soft curves of her wrist. It was an intimate gesture, but so subtle and understated that if Quinn's senses weren't on overdrive, she wouldn't have noticed it at all.

"It was the least we could do, Sam. I'm…I'm so sorry," her eyebrows furrowed hating how conventional and basic the words sounded in her mouth. "You guys don't deserve to go through this,"

"Thanks," Sam's fingers fell away from her wrist and for a split second, Quinn worried that she had said something wrong. But as soon as she started to miss his warmth, she felt his chin rest on her shoulder, his breathing even and tickling the back of her neck. "It sucks, Quinn,"

"I know it does," she whispered softly. "But you're strong, you know. Remember what happened in high school? And you got through that so gracefully and your dad was so proud – we all were,"

"You know how I got through that? Because of my dad. And now he's just…gone," Sam's voice cracked and without even looking back, Quinn knew he was fighting back tears. "They were supposed to come visit me in New York, did you know that? I was supposed to show them everything, show them that I was actually going to do something with my life, so they could finally be proud of me and now…he's just…"

His breathing hitched, rendering him speechless, and instinctively, Quinn turned around to cup his face in her hands. Giving him a long, intense stare, she bit her lip trying to figure out the right words to say. "Your parents – both of them – are so proud of you. Your family is so proud of you. Sam, you helped them get out of debt and you put shoes on your little brother's feet and you gave up camping trips with Glee so Stacy could go to summer camp. Don't you ever think that all of that doesn't matter,"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. "I just want everything to go back to the way it was. None of this makes sense,"

"I know," Quinn whispered, immediately gathering him in her arms. She felt his heart beat quicken and she held him until it slowed down, until his breathing went back to normal. "We're all here for you, Sam. For as long as you need,"

He pulled away and ran a hand over his face, shaking the strands of blonde hair out of his eyes. "Quinn, I'm…sorry. After everything that happened back in New York…"

"Don't even start that with me, Evans," she chuckled. "Now's not the time to talk about whatever this is," she gestured to the space between them and smiled when she saw the corners of his lips curl up.

Silence fell between them again, but it was more comfortable this time around – less weighted and dark than before. It wasn't until the last bits of the orange sun finally disappeared behind the horizon and darkness blanketed the night, that Sam finally spoke.

"I've wanted to show you this part of Tennessee from the first day I met you," his voice was softer and nostalgic, just quiet enough for the two of them.

"That day you got slushied?" she giggled.

"Okay, maybe not…that day," he laughed and stopped short, as if just a little bit of happiness was unfair to the memory of what had happened. "But this…this small part of Gossett River…it's sort of my happy place. I used to come here and play my guitar for hours because it was so quiet. And I liked that there was never anybody else around – until now, that is,"

"Sam…"

"No, I know, now's not the time to talk about it," he shook his head. "But that doesn't change the fact that having you here, in one of my favourite places in the world…it helps,"

Quinn pursed her lips, trying to contain her smile.

There were still so many things to discuss between them – his father, his next step in life, her future, the possibility of them together again – but if Sam was content to just listen to the river and the sounds of the night, then Quinn would do the same.