Title: My Private Nation

Pairing: Quinn/Rachel

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

Timeline: The afternoon of the day after sectionals.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

Author's Note:Hi... This is the first story I'm publishing online. Or writing, for that matter. So any feedback is welcome.

Quinn stood at the traffic signal, watching the cars, the people, even the pets go by. She observed the scene before her in an oddly detached manner; looking without really seeing. She could, in a way, liken the intersection to the situation she was in presently. The girl standing at the crossroads of life. The difference was that there were no directions for her; no lights and signs and directions. All she had was an over-crowded intersection and far too many roads to chose from. And if she made the wrong choice, there wasn't any option to turn back.

Not that that thought had prevented her from making any wrong decisions. No, there had already been plenty of terrible decisions in her life, the most obvious one being getting drunk with the self proclaimed man-whore. She should have smartened up when she saw the results of the first pregnancy test, and the one after that, and the one after that. But she got scared instead, and went even further down the path she was trying to escape from.

Lying to Finn, the sweet, sometimes stupid boy who promised to stand by her. Lying to her parents, even though she knew it would become impossible to keep it hidden beyond a point, even from their deluded eyes. Lying to each and every person she cared about, who's approval meant the world to her. Quinn was, and always would be, Head-Bitch-In-Charge, but that didn't mean she had a heart of stone. And she sure as hell wasn't stupid. She knew she couldn't continue the way she'd been doing for the last few months; dodging and manipulating till the truth tumbled out in the worst ways possible.

She walked on aimlessly as random thoughts flitted through her head, sitting down on a roadside bench when her legs started protesting. Looking down at the bump that seemed so prominent now, she wondered what was she supposed to do. Quinn didn't really know how to get by without the facades and the pretenses she'd become adept at keeping up. Right up till now, the person she had made sure people perceived her to be had taken over her in such a way that she was no longer sure of whether she could function without that part of her.

And yet, she didn't want to. Till now, she'd been convincing herself that there wasn't any other way, that the one way where she'd have to tell the most lies was the best way. And it became easier as she dug herself in deeper. The more lies she told, the greater was the price she'd have to pay on getting caught. So it had become a simple matter of not getting caught, no matter what it took.

But now... Getting caught or whatever wasn't exactly a problem. Her parents knew, her friends, if you could call them that, also knew. And Finn, obviously. Maybe this was God's way of telling her that it was time to start afresh. Or as fresh as she could, anyway.

Quinn got up from the bench eventually, the rumbling in her stomach reminding her that the Cheerios' Eat-Less-Puke-More diet was not the ideal thing for her at this point in time. Delving into her pockets, she pulled out a handful of coins, the only money she had left. Finn's mom had been paying for everything so far, but she hadn't had the guts to show her face at his house till now. It seemed that burger and fries would be making up her lunch. Not the most nutritious thing, but you take what you can get.

Just as she turned to walk towards the nearest burger joint, an over-enthusiastic skater collided with her, knocking the money out of her hand and sending it to the floor, spinning and scattering on the sidewalk.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" she shouted after his retreating back, squashing the urge to chase after him and knock him down. Her hormones were making her crazier than usual, and a helluva lot more short tempered. Plus, with the baby bump and her back acting up all the time, bending down and crouching wasn't the most inviting prospect.

"Stupid freakin' moron," she murmured darkly, bending down to collect the money. A hand covered hers and she looked up, finding herself face-to-face with Noah Puckerman. Just brilliant. The only person who was required to complete her wonderful day.

"Hey," he said as he shifted her hand away and started picking up the money.

"Puck, are you following me? Because I meant what I said-"

"Whoa ... back off, baby mama. Pool in area. Me pool cleaner," he said, quickly cutting off her rant sessions. The shouting probably wouldn't do wonders for the baby, and Puck really wasn't in the mood for lectures. After Mr. Shue, Rachel, Glee Club, Mrs. Hudson (yeah, even her), he was half-afraid that random strangers would start berating his irresponsibility.

"Oh," she diverted her gaze. "Well, thanks then."

"Two dollars, ten cents," he said, counting the coins before placing them in her hand. "The only way you'll survive on that is if you buy a lottery ticket and get real lucky."

"Back off, Puck." Her already sour mood probably contributed to her irritability, but Quinn was more than a little fed up of Puck to begin with. The guy meant well, but she preferred having her breathing space. And anyway, he wouldn't have to have been standing here and meaning well if he hadn't forgotten that damn condom in the first place.

"Chill. All I'm saying is that you need a place to crash. I know Finn asked you to leave and... I've kinda been saving up and stuff," he said, averting his eyes bashfully. "I'll get enough money for our kid, for You. My sister's agreed to move into my room, so we have space for you guys... It'll be totally cool. Even my mom's okay with it." He was starting to get slightly excited as he spoke, and it showed. He got the furrowed-eyebrows, I'm-gonna-be-a-caring-daddy expression on his face, and barely even registered the flabbergasted look on Quinn's face.

"Your mother is going to be okay with what, exactly?" she asked in an icy tone, arching an eyebrow.

"With the baby, and with you moving in with us," he said, lying with practiced ease. Truth was, his mom had freaked. It was the first time he'd seen her this crazy since his dad had moved out. A sixteen year old, blond, catholic cheerleader. Pregnant. With his kid. Oh yeah, that had gone down really well. But in the end, he was her boy. What choice did she have?

Quinn just stared at him. "Okay, deep breaths. Don't throttle him. DON'T," she thought to herself, trying to get her anger under control. "This isn't Finn," she reminded herself. "No. Puck is not this dense."

"Are you really this big an idiot or are you just pretending to irritate me?... Did you not hear a word of what I said yesterday? I'm doing this alone. Which means not with anybody else, in case you don't get it," she said, trying her level best to keep her voice firm, but calm.

"God. I know you're stubborn, but now you're being a psycho bitch. Come on, Quinn. You have nothing. What'll you do alone, huh? I'm not asking you to shack up with me and play family. Just let me take care of my kid... I told you, I'm not like my dad. I want to make sure she's safe, and that you're safe." He was looking at her with the sincerest face as he spoke.

Puck was a good guy at heart, and she couldn't help but acknowledge that. He could keep himself in check if he wanted to, and it looked like he really did want to this time. It would be so, so easy to just say yes. To have a place to go to at night, people who would help her and her daughter, who might actually care. And she'd finally make someone happy. How bad could that be?

"Noah," she said, covering his hand with hers, "I believe you. I know you'll be a good dad. But that should be when you're actually ready to be a dad, not when it's forced onto both of us. Moving in with you will be too much to handle right now, even for you. We'll both be miserable in the end and you know it. I'll... I'll let you be there when she's born, but I can't do this now. I'm sorry."

She got up and walked away from him, feeling a strange mixture of regret and satisfaction. She didn't know what she'd do next, and Puck was right about the money, but she'd finally, finally managed to do something right by not trapping another person in her mess. They were both young, and he didn't deserve to suffer with her. The decision to keep the baby was hers and hers alone, and she wouldn't shove the responsibility on someone else's shoulders yet again.

And with that piece of knowledge, Quinn went away holding her head up a little higher than before, leaving Puck sitting where she had been just a few minutes ago.

So she wouldn't let him help her directly. Fine. Noah hadn't become Puck by playing it straight. When he wanted something done, Puck would twist anyone and anything to make sure it was.

Puck hadn't had what you could describe as a happy life. Or a stable one, for that matter. His parents marriage was one born out of a whirlwind high school romance, with the shy girl falling for the rugged, rough around the edges bad boy. It was a typical story, with a typical ending. They'd had two children and a tonne of affairs before understanding that sometimes bad-ass boys never grew into men, and that initial romance wasn't enough to sustain a lifetime of troubles.

Reforming wasn't an option for Barry, and compromising wasn't one for his wife. She accepted his behavior towards her, but as their children grew older and began to understand more of the world, asking questions that were best left unanswered, she knew that their dysfunctional life wasn't the one she wanted for her children.

Puck's parents never officially got divorced, since neither of them wanted to get married to anyone else and the legal hassle wasn't an inviting prospect. And that, in a way, helped shape his beliefs about relationships and commitment. It was all just a fucking huge farce, dating and marriage and all that crap. But his mom staying with them, raising them however well she could also taught him the value of family.

Not that his dad was completely MIA. He still made an appearance from time to time, staying for a few days before disappearing again without a word or note. Puck had gotten used to it by now, feigning indifference whenever his father came and left, but the look on his sister's face every time something like that happened made him want to knock that man dead. He hoped that she'd get used to shrugging it off just like he had, because his dad sure as hell wasn't going to change.

Barry was the absolute perfect example of a wasted life. He was smart enough, with enough muscular strength for manual labor, but he simply chose to spend his time doing nothing at all. All his energy was spent flirting with random women and getting up to crazy stunts with the neighborhood boys, while his wife took up jobs to give their children a decent, if not exceptionally good, life.

Although he did have one redeeming feature - he was never an abusive man. There wasn't ever any violence around the house, and the shouting was infrequent enough to escape notice. Barry tried to keep the majority of his affairs and drunk ramblings a secret from the kids. He was irresponsible, but not totally devoid of a conscience. Even though he did think sometimes that he could have done so much better with his life, he didn't take his frustration out his family, nor did he create a hostile environment for them. But he never created a safe one either.

Noah never understood why children looked up to their dads so much. He envied them, for having someone they thought was so perfect, and this jealousy became a big reason for his need to be above them all, to keep them under his thumb. He wanted to show that not having a dad who knew what he was doing didn't matter. He could get along just fine without him - grow up faster and stronger, take care of his mom and sister, stop believing in those stupid monsters in the closet. Puck made his strength a shield for his insecurity, and made sure his bullying kept people to far away to be able to understand that.

But even with all the issues he had with himself, he had very clear rules when it came to family - no one messed with them. Puck may toss girls away like yesterday's trash, but Noah really did have a deep sense of responsibility towards his family. He did the best he could for them under his circumstances, and he sure as hell would do the same for his daughter. Ain't no baby mama gonna get in his way.

Well, sort of. He knew he needed help with Quinn, because all said and done, that girl could be thicker than Brittany when she chose to be.

The first person he went to was Santana. Kinda ironic, considering that he'd dumped her for Quinn and all; he'd be lucky if she didn't dislocate his jaw. But she was one of the very few people he knew who didn't treat Quinn like she was an untouchable, and the two girls were supposed to be friends. Sometimes.

"Well, bus-boy, I might have thought about it, but your face puts me off. Now squat." Ouch, but he still considered himself lucky.

Okay, so then Brittney next. She was sweet enough.

"Finn threw Quinn out? But wasn't her basement, like, on the first floor? That must've hurt." Nope. Not somebody you'd imagine looking after a hormonal, pregnant teenager. He couldn't even bring himself to ask her. Or inform her of the fact that a basement was usually not located on the first floor.

Crap. He didn't really have many other options. Tina freaked the hell out of him, though he wouldn't tell anyone. I mean, the guy had a solid rep to protect. No Goth chick scares Puckerman. And Mercedes would gladly gut him before feeding him to piranhas. And out of all the guys he knew, the only two who wouldn't jump Quinn were Artie and Kurt, both for obvious reasons. But he'd heard Artie already had an over-taxed family. They couldn't handle any more people, and he wouldn't embarrass the guy by asking him. Kurt then. He was practically a girl by his own admission.

"Well, to be blunt, Quinn is rather exacting and fairly high-maintenance. Not only does my skin break out in hideous pimples at the first signs of discord, I have no idea how I'd react to all her baby hormones . And anyways, my father wouldn't be comfortable having a woman in the house, especially one in her condition. My sincerest apologies." Good thing Kurt wouldn't be getting a girlfriend anytime soon.

Shit. Crappy freakin' toad shit. What the hell was Puck supposed to do now? Useless no-good ditchers. God. The soccer team was better than these idiots. She was a pregnant girl, for crying out loud!

Damnit. There wasn't anyone left to ask… Well… There was one person. NO... No WAY…

"Hey Berry, you there?" said Puck, peeking into the partially dark auditorium. She wasn't with the rest of Glee-Club at the bowling alley, nor was she at home. Where else could Rachel Berry be found?

"Noah," asked Rachel, emerging from behind one of the wings. She'd been trying to develop a new dance routine, but the steps kept eluding her. Tying her hair back, she regarded him curiously."Shouldn't you be out celebrating with the rest of the club?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"I... I believe my time would be better spent focusing on our next competition, which will inevitably be tougher," said Rachel. Of course, the real reason she was here was that no one was speaking to her after she'd spilled the beans of Quinn and Puck's liaison to Finn. They seemed to think that what they'd been doing - bitching about Quinn's deceptiveness while helping her keep Finn in the dark- was better. "What happened yesterday was absurd. We should have had a back-up set list and choreographed routine, but I was far too distracted to think of it. That can't-"

"Berry," said Puck firmly, cutting her off mid-rant.

"I'm sorry. What brings you here?" She regarded him with a guarded curiosity, having an inkling of what he wanted and not quite sure how she fit into it.

"Something kinda came up. And I thought you could help me with it," said Puck, shifting from one foot to the other restlessly. Even a moron could tell that he was nervous. Or at least apprehensive.

"Proceed."

"I know I was terrible to you when we broke up. And I already told you what I felt about the slushies... You totally don't owe me anything, but you're the only one left who I can ask."

"This is about Quinn, isn't it?" asked Rachel, knowing perfectly well that the blonde was the only reason Puck would be here right now. She couldn't, however, figure out what he wanted.

"How'd you know?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely self-absorbed. I do understand the ramifications of what happened yesterday and was in fact pretty sure you would be trying to help Quinn in whatever way possible."

"So.. you get that she needs another place to stay now that Finn knows the baby isn't his?"

"I did realize that Quinn would be in need of alternate living arrangements, yes, although I must admit I'm not the first person one would turn to in that matter."

"Yeah. I know its loony and that you guys aren't really in love," Puck said, smirking along with her at his choice of words. "But she has no other place to go, 'cause she's being freakin' stupid about the whole thing and refusing to come with me. I don't know who else to ask. Take her in, Berry. For the baby, if you don't want to do it for her... She's planning to live on hot dogs and burgers from the woman's shelter, and that kid needs better stuff or she might turn out weird."

"There is absolutely no need blackmail me Noah. I'm perfectly willing to provide a hospitable environment for Quinn," said Rachel." Since I'm the reason she doesn't have one in the first place," thought Rachel. "But I'd like to ask how you got Quinn to agree to stay with me. It's seems rather odd, considering she refused your offer."

"Yeah, about that," said Puck slowly, "she doesn't really know."

"Excuse me?.. Noah Puckerman, are you insane? You want Quinn to come and live with me, without her consent?"

"Oh, come on. You think she'd agree to this? Seriously?" Noah was, for the first time in his life, praying really really hard. He needed Rachel to agree to this, or his baby mama would be living in some down in the dumps shelter. Where a brick might fall on her head.

"Noah, as a fellow glee-clubber and a person who can deeply empathize with the social rejection Quinn faces, I will gladly extend my home, my facilities, and even any financial aid she may require for her pregnancy. However, we are both aware that she would rather give her child to Mr. Shuester's mentally imbalanced wife than share a home with me. Even you, besotted as you are, can recognize the flaw in your scheme."

Okay. "Um…" He kept quiet for the minute it took him to translate Rachel-speak to English. "Come on Rachel. Don't give me that crap about her not wanting it. You're great at convincing people when you want to do something bad enough... Work that Broadway Diva magic. Please".

Good God. Noah Puckerman said please. To Rachel Berry. This was obviously a do-or-die situation... There was no love lost between Rachel and Quinn, but she couldn't have a pregnant, homeless girl on her conscience. She'd heard plenty of horror stories about those shelters from her dads, and Quinn being Quinn, would probably manage to piss every single person off five minutes after she got there.

"I believe that this is the first time you've employed the use of my given name since the demise of our relationship. And according to the behavioral analysis course I took, it very clearly indicates your severe mental distress. Very well, Noah. I shall do my utmost to befriend Quinn, but you cannot expect me to physically haul her into my home."

Little did Rachel know that the next few hours would have her eating her words. And they were quite a mouthful.

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