This is my first Glee fanfic and I know it isn't my best work. It will improve, as I'm just getting used to a new style of writing. Reviews would be appreciated and constructive criticism is welcome! Multiple P.O.V. Let me know if you'd prefer it if I told you who's P.O.V it is at each part, or just continued with the way I have done it.
I don't own Glee.


It's been playing on my mind ever since Glee rehearsal yesterday. Quinn slipped on the wet floor. Finn rushed to her side, which I understood, as she is carrying his child, after all. However, what I didn't expect was Noah Puckerman, the self-proclaimed 'bad-ass' to urgently dash to her side, offering his words of advice, seemingly worried about the health of both Quinn and her unborn child. This led me to an idea that has been circulating in my mind ever since.

I look into the choir room. Artie, Tina, Mercedes and Kurt stand around the piano, the original members of New Directions, along with myself, of course. I walk quickly into the room, aware that I am interrupting an obviously uninteresting, mundane conversation, but not caring. What I have to say is more important, as always.
'Hey guys' A quick greeting, as being courteous will be crucial when I am a Broadway star living in New York with many fans and paparazzi wanting to hear my every word, which means I need to perfect my manners before I get there.
'Did any of you think it was weird, the way that Puck rushed to Quinn's aid during rehearsal yesterday?' I ask. Mercedes looks at Tina. 'No.' Of course, they don't have my superior mind and quick skills of deduction. 'I mean, he likes her – I mean, they're friends! We all know that' says Artie, with a small laugh. Tina nods. They don't understand what I'm getting at.
'Yeah, but it – it seemed like more than that.' Should I tell them? With such vital information, I think it is necessary that I do so. I sigh. 'I've never told you guys this before, but I'm a little psychic. I can't read minds or anything yet, but I do have a sixth sense.' I look around. None of them are taking this seriously. 'Something is definitely going on there!' I look at each of them. Still no dramatic reaction, which I would appreciate after I gifted them with my knowledge.
'Uh, we gotta go.' Mercedes stands to exit the choir room, the others following her lead.
'We have to practice!' I cry out. Sectionals are coming up, and even with my major suspicions, we are going to win. Nothing will distract me from that fact.
'Oh, and we will. As soon as Mr Schuester names a faculty adviser to replace him.' Kurt answers me, while walking away. They're all on their way out, and I follow them towards the door. I shout after them that my psychic abilities are nothing to be scared of. I'm sure the reason they wouldn't believe me is because they are afraid of my superior mind.

I'm going to have to go straight to the centre of my suspicions. Quinn Fabray.


She's getting close to figuring it out. That can't happen. She's completely in love with Finn, and she'll tell him the second she knows the truth. If Finn finds out, there is no way he'll compete with us at sectionals. We need him. He's our male lead, and without him we won't have enough members to compete. I already feel awful for telling everyone else that Puck is the real father. Finn and Rachel cannot find out, at least not before sectionals. We just have to keep her distracted for a little while longer.


I've been getting my morning sickness in the evenings lately. Carole, Finns mom, won't let me do anything other than eat, rest, and puke if I need to. This baby won't let me eat much without making me throw it back up – and then she gives me the weirdest cravings. Pickles and ice cream? Who would eat that? My unborn daughter, apparently. With these sorts of cravings, my baby really could be Finns daughter. I wish.

Anyway, all of that means I've had no time to finish all my homework. I may have gotten pregnant at sixteen, but I have no intentions of completely ruining my life, and I pride myself on my straight A grades. So, right now I'm standing at my locker, finishing my homework five minutes before lesson starts.

'Hey' I glance up. Rachel. Possibly the most annoying (and small) person I've ever met. She doesn't give me a chance to answer – or insult – her before she carries on talking. Why does she talk so fast?
'I know it's not my place, but have you had your doctor run the full genetic test panel on your unborn child? I only ask because...' I zone out for a second. She's right, it's not her place! Who does she think she is? I'm daydreaming about being far, far away from her, when she says something about her cousin... carrying sacks? What did she say?
'What's that?' I ask, hoping the answer will be relatively short. Of course, it isn't. She's Rachel Berry, after all. Sometimes I think she must have swallowed a dictionary.
'It's a genetic disorder. Pretty terrible, from what I understand. If one of the parents is a carrier then there's like a 50 percent chance that the child has it, or something like that.'

I look down, suddenly scared for my daughters health.

'No! No, Leons baby was fine! I-it was still pretty scary, though.' She's trying to reassure me. Maybe she's not that bad. Maybe she was genuinely concerned, and not just being her usual nosy self. I close my locker, leaning against it for support.
'My doctor never mentioned that...' I say quietly, shaking my head. I may not be keeping this baby, but I don't want her to be anything other than perfectly healthy. I love her. She's a part of me, whether I planned this or not. I want the best for her; which is why, however much it may hurt me, I know I can't keep her.
'You know, I'm such an idiot! They would only run the test if one of the parents was Jewish. Yeah, only Jews carry the gene.' I momentarily feel a sense of relief, before I pull myself out of my fantasy world where Finn is the father and remember. Puck. He's Jewish, which means he could carry the gene, and it could have been passed on to my daughter. Rachel's looking at me. I try to pull myself together. A small 'oh' is all I manage. 'Okay, well I'll see you in rehearsal!' And with her trademark big, beaming smile she's gone.


I don't find Puck until Glee rehearsal later that day. I make sure to have my back to Finn, on the opposite side of the choir room. As long as I have anything to do with it, Finn is not going to find out the truth.

'You have to take me to go get those Jewish baby tests!' I say, making sure to keep my voice down.
'Why? Is that even a real thing?'
'Because if something is wrong with the baby, Terri Schuester isn't going to take it!' I say. This isn't the complete truth. It's for my own peace of mind. But I can't let Puck know how much I love this baby. He's already desperate for me to keep her, and I can't do that. I can't raise a baby. She needs a stable home, with a family that's ready for her. She deserves the best life possible. But Puck can't know this, or he'll convince me to keep her. I can't risk it. 'And I can't ask Finn, he'll know something's up' I murmur.

'Does this have to happen tonight? Because I have my fight club.'

Fight club. This only backs up my decision to give her up for adoption. This baby girl needs a steady, secure life with a mature, adult father. She won't get that if we keep her, as much as I love her.
'What?' I can't continue since Mr Schue walks in and starts talking. I turn and go to sit in front Finn, since Rachel has already taken the seat next to him.


I knew it. I knew something was going on. I pretended to read some sheet music while I listened to Quinn and Pucks hushed conversation in the choir room. I couldn't hear every minor detail, but I heard snippets of the conversation, and I got the gist. I knew it. Puck is the real father of Quinns child. I have to inform Finn. It's the right thing to do. He's so worried, and scared. I would be doing him a favour. He won't have the responsibilities any more, and he won't have to work in a job he hates for a child that is not his.

I don't want him to get hurt. I think I may be in love with him, and when I tell him the truth about Quinn, he'll be free to admit that he feels the same way, because I know he does. I can see it.

I'm doing the right thing. I am.