fatherhood.

Chapter One

Two and a half hours after the call that changed his life, Jesse stops and parks his car in front of the Berry family house, a house he has grown on the course of several weeks to know as well as he knows his own family house. He stays in his car for a few minutes, trying not to shake in panic, because he's Jesse St. James, and Jesse St. James doesn't do panic. Besides, there's a chance Rachel's wrong. Maybe she's just late on her time of the month and making a big deal out of nothing. It wouldn't be that unexpected, considering the stress she has been enduring lately and her flair for dramatics.

(He tries to convince himself, somewhat halfheartedly, that Rachel isn't pregnant, but there's a part of him – a part that's grown enough to know she's the woman of his dreams and to wince at everything he has done to hurt her in the last weeks – that reminds him Rachel's different from other girls. She wouldn't stoop so low to get back at him for his role at her funkification.)

(There's a smaller part of him that can't help but desperately hope Rachel's right. As he drove to her, he realized he wanted that baby with her, wanted to know they had a tie so strong, it was nearly unbreakable. He notices, with disbelief, that he wants that with her. So the timing's all wrong. So what? She's the only woman he can see having his children. If she's right, and pregnant, they just started on their family a little earlier than planned. From his part, there's no regret whatsoever over this baby.)

He finally gathers enough of his wits (and his legs stop shaking enough) to leave the relative peace of his car. When he steps out of his Rover, he finds Rachel, wearing a white summer dress and a long-sleeved pink cardigan over it and sitting on her porch, unknowingly mimicking his position from when he called her earlier that evening. Before making his way to her, he looks around and sees an old, beat-up truck parked on her driveway. Recognizing the car as Puckerman's, he can't help but feel relieved and scared. Relieved that she isn't alone. Scared that there won't be much left of him for his child to know or for his uncle to bury once Puckerman's done with him.

(He has given Puckerman more than several reasons to kick his sorry ass, Rachel's funkification being only one of them.)

However, a second, closer look at her at the porch makes him realize she's alone, clearly waiting for him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly makes his way to where she sits, his shadow falling over her as he grows closer.

His heart stops when the lights on the porch hit her face just right – just enough to bounce off the wet tracks on her cheeks.

Fuck. She's crying.

His body reacts before his brain catches up – he quickly crosses the small space between them, sits down next to her and gathers her in his arms. At first, she's stiff, tense in his embrace – but that's momentary. Soon, she relaxes and clings possessively to him, sobbing quietly, all but climbing on his lap, burying her face against the soft cotton of his shirt. "I'm afraid, Jesse," Rachel blurts out between her sobs.

"I know, baby. I know," he says, quietly. His hands move up and down her cotton-covered back, trying in vain to soothe her. "But you're going to be okay. We're going to be okay. I love you." He cups her face with his hands and looks at her, his eyes soft but serious. "I love you, Rachel. I'm really sorry for cracking that egg on your head. I was just so angry, so hurt and jealous. I know, it's no excuse for my behavior, but that's God's honest truth. No one but you welcomed me warmly in McKinley, and then you triple-cast me next to Puckerman and the beanstalk. And then he sang that song to you while I was absent. It was just adding up and up. And then I had to transfer back to McKinley, and that bitch, Giselle, wanted me to prove I was still loyal to them." He licks his lips, peeved at her silence, strokes her soft and damp cheeks. "To be honest with you, I regretted it almost immediately, but it was already done. And to know I did it to you while you're pregnant with my kid…" His voice grows thick with tears, his eyes wet with moisture. He hugs her tight, and she hugs him back, equally tight.

In truth, she's silent because she's reeling from the lengthy and unexpected apology. Knowing Jesse as well as she does, she knows it's not often that he apologizes, and it's even rarer that he apologizes sincerely (most often than not he apologizes for the sake of propriety, not because he feels really sorry for something). But something loosens up in her heart as her dark eyes meet his. It's like she's seeing Jesse again, the boy who promised her he was crazy about her and would never do anything to hurt her. Perhaps it's her rose-colored, hope-soaked glasses, but there's a difference between the boy she fell for (and still desperately loves) and the guy who mechanically broke her heart when he cracked an egg on her head.

She can't help but feel happy she's the only one who knows and sees the difference.

The expectant parents stay locked in their passionate embrace for quite some time, but then Rachel begins to shiver thanks to the slight chill in the air. Concerned, Jesse gets up, takes her up in his arms and carries her inside. The difference of temperature makes her teeth chatter. Jesse sits her down on the couch and begins to rub her arms up and down. Attracted by the noise, Puck, looking solemn, comes out of the kitchen, takes a look at the scene and pulls out of a closet a blanket for Rachel. He gives it to Jesse, who nods in appreciation as he wraps it around her.

"Go upstairs and take a long hot shower, Berry," Puck tells her. She looks doubtfully at him for a moment and he rolls her eyes. "Go. I won't kill the dude, promise."

Rachel hesitates for a moment. "Promise?" She repeats.

Puck nods. "Promise."

"Okay. I won't take long," she promises Jesse before giving Puck a warning look. When he huffs but holds a hand out, pointing to her house's staircase, she stands up, presses her lips quickly to Jesse's.

Puck waits for her bedroom's door to slam to close, before he turns to Jesse with a dark scowl on his face. The left-tackle shoves Jesse roughly against the wall, glares at him with a fiercely protective glint in his hazel eyes. "Now you and I are gonna have a little chat, you fucking punk," he hisses. "B there's having your fucking kid. That'd be reason enough for me to kill you with my bare hands. However, I won't because I know she needs you more than ever now. No matter what fucking mask she puts on, in the end she's just a scared girl. Pull another shitty stunt like you did with her or the baby, and you can kiss that stupid pretty face of yours goodbye. Gotcha?"

Jesse takes a deep breath and nods, not at all surprised at Puck's act. Because, if there's something he has learnt about the other boy during his brief stint as part of New Directions, it's that Puck's fiercely loyal to those precious few he truly cares for – and, since their very brief relationship the year before, Rachel's one of those precious few.

Satisfied, Puck nods back and lets him go, sighs deeply. "I have to go. Ma still doesn't know Quinn popped Beth out. Tell B to call me tomorrow. Night, St. James."

"Good night, Puck," Jesse replies. He hesitates for a moment, then adds, "And… thank you."

"Don't thank me," Puck says, his face a mask of indifference. "I didn't do it for you. I did it for her. Make sure she's fine." Puck picks his bag up from where he left it earlier that day and leaves. Jesse follows him to the front door and locks it behind him, makes sure the back door is also locked as well as the windows. Once he's satisfied, he chucks out his jacket, his shoes and socks and paddles his way up to the closed bedroom door.

He reaches her bathroom door, presses his ear against the thick wood. Since there's no sound of running water, he knocks once, firmly, soundly. "Rachel?" He calls out, sharpens his ears to the noise inside. She doesn't answer, so he tries the doorknob. It gives way, so he slides in.

The bathroom is foggy, the air thick with warmth. Jesse waves his hand in front of his face to disperse some fog. Narrowing his eyes, he sees Rachel curled on a corner of the shower area, naked and wet, tears running down her face. She looks so lost and despondent that his heart breaks for her all over again. Wordlessly, he strips down to his underwear and steps into the shower area with her, taking her in his arms. At first lost on what to do, he begins to softly hum 'Hello', and she clings desperately to him, tucking her face against the curve of his neck, crying quietly.

Finally the events of the day catch up with him, and he can't help but cry a little himself.

When he got out of bed that morning, he was Jesse St. James, the star of Vocal Adrenaline, well on his way to becoming the household name he dreamt of being since always. More than twelve hours later, he's changed once again: he's now a 17-year-old boy with a scared 16-year-old girlfriend who is pregnant with their first baby (yeah, there's no way they're staying broken up when they have that unbreakable bond growing inside of Rachel).

When he got out of bed that morning, he had his entire life, already planned and mapped out in front of him. Now, he has to come up with a whole new plan, a plan that includes Rachel… And their baby.

Rachel begins to cry the moment she lets herself relax, under the warm water of her shower. When she called Jesse earlier that evening, she didn't expect him to come – not really. In fact, his presence at her home, willing to apologize to her and to help her decide what to do about the baby (there's a baby growing inside of her, she's still in disbelief over this), still feels surreal, like an out-of-body experience. Noah's support she expected, even counted on, especially in light of his experience as a teenage father. But not Jesse.

Still, she can't help but feel relief that Jesse's here, at her house, in close range, reachable to her once again. As warm water falls down on her, she makes a vow to never let him doubt her love again, never allow Finn to step between them again. For it's Jesse she loves, it's Jesse she wants by her side forever and ever. So, she cries in relief, cries and cries and cries until she feels drained.

Her hand brushes absently against her belly and she freezes. Soon there will be a small curve there, undeniable proof that she had unprotected sex with her boyfriend and is on her way to being a teenage mother. Unbidden, new tears rise to her eyes, and she weeps, once again, to everything she supposes she'll lose with this new circumstance in her life. She cries for the life she had, a life that will change now. She cries for her dreams and plans, dreams and plans that will come second to the baby now. She cries for the dreams and plans she knows Jesse had, dreams and plans that she forced him to give up on when she told him about the baby.

Make no mistake – for a while she considered not telling him about the baby. Out of spite for what he did to her just two weeks ago, out of fear of being flat-out rejected, out of heartbreak for the lies and secrets he kept from her throughout their relationship. But a brief conversation with Noah put an end to those thoughts, when Noah reminded her Jesse had rights as father that she couldn't deny him no matter how much she wanted to.

"He has the right to choose as much as you do, B," Noah had said quietly as they sat on her couch, one of her several positive home pregnancy tests sitting on the coffee table in front of her. "He has the right to know there's his kid inside you, and to choose whether or not he wants to be a dad to that kid."

"What if he turns me down?" She had whispered, her voice thick with the tears she had shed and the ones she hadn't shed. "What if he turns us down?"

"Then we'll sit down and discuss what to do, but first you have to tell him."

Exhausted, she stands up and turns the tap off, but can't find in herself the strength to leave the shower. When the knock on her door comes, she claps her hand over her mouth and muffles her sobs, or tries to. But then someone tries the doorknob, and it gives way, the door opening silently. Behind the sheen of fog, she recognizes the curly dark hair.

Jesse sees her, steps under the closed shower with her, gathers her in his arms. He cuddles her naked and wet body against his and begins humming quietly, a song she recognizes right away. 'Hello' brings new tears to her eyes, and she hides her face on the crook of his neck, crying earnestly as her arms come to wrap themselves around his waist. Jesse presses his face against her soaked hair, and they stay like that for a while, both lost in their thoughts, but still connected somehow.