Summary: After a tragic Accident, Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry's son is placed into the care of his Godmother, Quinn Fabray. She struggles to care for him while dealing with her feelings for his mother, who suffers in her Coma.

This story contains Faberry, Finchel, and death. I know the summary isn't very good but I'm still working on it.

First Story :) please R and R and help improve my writing. And also if you review tell me what you'd like to see in the future chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything related to Glee.

Edit 6/1/2012: Edited a ton of mistakes and if you see any more please alert me.

It's the ringing of my doorbell for five minutes that finally made me get out of bed. After laying in it for days on end, I, Quinn Fabray finally trudged through my friggen apartment to the door. I peer through the peephole and saw a flash of his perfect brown hair. I knew I'd regret opening the door; all I wanted to do was go back to bed.

I still found my hand twisting the knob and met with the perfection that is Kurt Hummel. But not just Kurt Hummel it seemed, as in his right hand was a baby carrier and on his left shoulder a baby bag.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him and after not using my voice for days it came out like I was sick. He has a wounded look on his face and I whimper, everything reminds me of what happened not even a week before.

"Because, you're taking care of Vincent, duh." He speaks like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"I can't take care of him Kurt, you take him." I say as I quickly glance at the baby boy who is fast asleep. I look away with suffering. Kurt sighs and steps forward; he put the baby bag on the table and dug through it for a manila folder.

"Look at this, you're the godmother Quinn. She gave you full rights to him if anything was to happen to her or..." He trails off with a sharp intake of breath. I tremble as I open the folder. There are many papers, medical records, birth certificate and such. I see my name on the guardian line and close my eyes.

What did you do?

"Kurt I can't take care of him. You take him, he knows you better." I counter looking at my Godson. I had only seen him a little bit since he was two months. I was there when he was born and there all throughout the pregnancy too, without knowing it of course. Well I knew when he was born but I hadn't learned of his existence until a month before he was born.

"You have to; he's your responsibility whether you knew it or not Quinn. I know you're having a rougher time with this than anyone with this, but remember why you are. Take care of him Quinn." He says, his eyes not leaving mine the whole time.

I look back at Vincent, or Vin Vin, as everyone (mostly Brittany) has taken to calling him. He's now seven months old and has brown hair like his mother. He even has her eyes, big and brown. I'm not even emotionally ready to go outside, how am I supposed to take care of a kid?

"Fine, just will you come over whenever I need help?" I question and he nods. I smile a bit but it dropped.

"How is she doing?" I ask him softly and he shuffles his feet. I bite my lip, I've been listening to the TV and it didn't sound too good.

"She's in a coma, and they don't think she's going to wake up. But we have to keep holding on, for her. Hope she gets through this." He says and we both look to the side as Vin Vin begins to cry, waking from his slumber.

I hold Vincent in my arms and bob him up and down a bit as he whimpers. He still has a baby cry, which I couldn't figure out if it's sad or just the cutest thing. He has his head in my shoulder and grips my shirt in the process; his little cries aren't loud but still break my heart.

He's like his mother, a diva except in boy form. And I'm sure he isn't gay like Kurt, just a little drama man.

"It's alright Vin Vin; I've almost got your bottle done." I say taking the bottle out of my microwave and dabbing some on my arm. Finally I got the right temperature. I sit in my chair and adjust the boy into my arms so I could feed him properly.

He takes the bottle like it's his lifeline and soon stops crying. Thank goodness, he has been crying since he woke up. He's still whining a bit but I deduced it's because he's looking for someone familiar.

"You're alright baby. I'm here, just go back to sleep." I coo to him as he closes his eyes but his sucking doesn't stop.

I rock the chair back and forth as he finally falls back to sleep. When he'd woken earlier I had already been wide awake, even if it was three in the morning. My thoughts were on overdrive. Not just from getting rights to my godson, but because of the note that was with the paperwork Kurt had given me.

It only brought back memories I had wanted to forget. But ever since the accident on Sunday, the memories kept replaying over and over in my head.

I don't get much sleep for at least a week before Vin Vin actually slept all night on Monday. Kurt watches him while I go to work at the coffee shop. It isn't much of a job but since I'm still trying to make my acting debut still, it's enough to get by. I'd had a small role here and there since going to Yale but nothing big yet.

Everything seems to be in place; well it did seem in place.

"Quinn, I know you're going through a tough time. So if you're not up to working, you can go home." I hear my boss, Dylan say. I turn to him and nod.

"Thank you, I'm sorry. I'm really trying hard but I keep seeing it flash over and over." I reply looking outside to the raining streets of New York. Right outside is where it happened.

"It's alright; I don't even think I could stand if I saw someone I loved get hit by a truck." He replies before he realized what he said and apologized. I shake my head and quickly passed by him to get my stuff.

I pull off my apron and hairnet and leave the shop with my purse. I still have to stop by the store on my way and taking Vincent to the stores isn't the best idea. He has a habit of grabbing onto things and pulling them off shelves. It doesn't matter what it is, he latched onto it like it's his destiny. And if anyone tried taking it away, he would cry and scream.

I walk outside and walk down the street to my car. I had taken to parking away from where the truck had slammed into her car now. I crossed the street and quickly got into my car before driving off to the store.

After quickly getting baby food and diapers, and other things I remember I need, I drive to Kurt's home. I knock on the door and he swings it open immediately. He looks disheveled and has a crying Vincent in his arms.

"He won't stop! Its madness!" He groans giving him to me and I take him, and he grabs at my shirt.

"Do you even know how to care for a child?" I ask as I cradle him in my arms.

"Yes, but he's her son, it's not a normal child." He says rolling his eyes as I enter the house and shut the door. It looked like Vincent had done a toll on his kitchen as the white counter top is now smeared with food and a...diaper?

I cringe, how did it get that bad?

Kurt came back with the baby basket and went outside to put it in the car along with the baby bag. I look around some more, looking at all the pictures he had on his walls.

I've been to everyone's house, and every single one of them had a picture of someone from Glee. Whether any of us would admit it or not, it had changed our lives. I'm very proud of being in Glee, it saved me. And made me realize things I don't think I'd ever figure out on my own.

"Quinn, everything's ready to go. Were you going to visit her later?" He asks after coming back inside and fixing his hair. I turn back to him, after staring at a picture of her for way too long.

"Maybe." I reply and slowly walk to the door.

"Everyone's seen her but you. You're her best friend and haven't seen her in the hospital. Did you know Sam and Mercedes flew all the way from L.A just to see her?" He asks and I sigh loudly.

"It's not that easy."

"It will take you ten minutes to get there, it's easy." He deadpans, and I look to the floor. Vincent seems to have fallen asleep and is unaware of the whole thing.

"You know what I mean; I don't think I'm strong enough." I tell him so low I don't think he heard me.

He exhales irritably and I turn to glare at him. My eyebrow raises but he doesn't falter and I scowl. Kurt doesn't get it.

"Coward, if she means that much to you... and don't give me that look Fabray, I know exactly what happened, Finn told me. And I realized it our senior year. Now look I'm off track, if she means a lot to you Quinn then you should go see her." He says seriously, a frown on his face.

"I'll think about it." I tell him before walking out the door.

Vincent is asleep most of the night, only waking up a few times because his pacifier fell out of his mouth. I sit up, watching the biographies of Rachel, most of them containing things about her relationship with Finn. There was also a couple of Mercedes that I watched. What is it with shows being so interested in relationships, the whole point they were famous is there talent, not their boyfriends.

After getting tired of watching that I turn the TV off and got up to walk to my room. I divert my eyes as I pass the picture filled hallway. Most of them containing her, and it's too hard to look at them.

No one really said her name. I have only seen Kurt, Blaine, Brittany, Santana, and Artie since the accident. And no one has said her name, I don't know why. Maybe we were afraid if we uttered it she wouldn't wake up.

I don't speak it, because every time I do I break down into a mess.

It doesn't take ten minutes like Kurt says it would. The drive did, however there were so many annoying Rachel Berry fans standing outside of the hospital it took a while to park and get to the entrance. I really want to yell at them all but I bite my tongue.

I had almost turned the car around five times before deciding on going. I had to do this for her, and Vincent.

I finally made it inside and walk to the receptionist who narrows her eyes at me. As if I was just another fan, I roll my eyes. I give her the same look she gives me and stop at the desk.

"You cannot go see Rachel Berry." She says before looking back down at her desk. I huff and tap the desk so she looks back up, annoyed by the fact I'm still here

"I'm Quinn Fabray, her best friend. And I'd like to see her." I tell her rudely. Hey, if she was going to be a bitch, then my former self could come out to play too.

"Oh yeah, and I'm Angelina Jolie. No you cannot see her." She replies sarcastically and I growl before leaning over the desk.

"Call Kurt Hummel then, make a big deal out of this. I want to see her." I state but I don't wait for her to reply. I simply walk passed the waiting area and go to the elevator. I had a feeling this would happen.

I step out and look for room 314, looking into each room as I pass. I'm surprised hardly any doors were shut. I'd have thought that people would want privacy, obviously not though.

It seems like time slows down as I made my way down the long hallway. I hear the beeping heart monitors, quiet cries of help, and the linger of death. OK the death part isn't true but there is a presence in the air that I could feel. But it isn't any of the doctors or nurses walking around, it's something else.

I stop at the doorway, which reads 314. Inside, the beeping as in every room beeped. A bed is in there and a tiny body lay on it. I wait about a minute before gradually going inside. I walk as though the room will catch on fire any moment. Vincent looks around the room, having no idea where he is.

I'm surprised no one is in here besides her doctor. I nod to him and push a chair to her side before sitting down with Vin Vin.

"I'm Quinn, her best friend just in case you're wondering." I tell him, since he seems a bit uneasy.

"Oh, I'm her doctor, Henry Mather." He says and I give him a forced smile.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask and he takes the chart off of her bed.

"She's in a coma, and we aren't sure if she'll wake up. And her injuries are severe, it's a miracle she's still alive. On the Glasgow Coma Scale she only gets a four." He says reluctantly.

I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about except that it's bad. He must have noticed my confusion and chuckles a bit before continuing.

"The Glasgow Coma scale is rated from 3-15. Four grades for eye response, five for verbal responses, and six for motor responses. Three being the lowest, meaning deep sleep or death, while fifteen being a fully awake person. Anything below eight can cause mortality." He says and I nod, it made a little sense.

"So what does she get on the scale?" I ask him, afraid of the answer. He doesn't answer for a moment; I think he is checking my mental stability. To see if I could be able to handle it.

"A four."

So how was it? Should I continue or trash it?