A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited or put it on your story alerts! I'm glad you all liked it. So here's the second chapter. I hope I'm taking it in the right direction that I'm planning, so enjoy!

Word Count: 2,852

Chapter 2

Puck hoisted Artie up into the passenger's seat of his old truck in a hurry, nearly tripping over an empty can of beer. "You good?" He asked his friend quickly, and received a nod in response. Slamming the door, he ran around to the driver's side, yanked it open and hoped in.

Jamming the keys into the ignition, he buckled up his seatbelt before starting off on the ten minute journey to the hospital. He couldn't believe this was happening. Of all people, why Quinn? She was finally happy, and he loved seeing the smile that graced her delicate features nearly every time he saw her. But some fuckin' idiot had to crash his way into her car.

He didn't know what he'd do without her. She was the mother of his child after all, and they'd been through so much together he couldn't lose her now. Taking a right at the lights, he tried his best to manuvre his way around the cars in his way.

"Puck! You're gonna kill us at this pace!" He heard Artie's faint yell as he made an especially sharp turn onto the expressway. He was too caught up in his thoughts to really think about his friend's pleas for him to slow down at this point, thinking about all the worst possible outcomes.

What if she was dead?

That thought plagued his mind with unwanted visions of Quinn lying battered, bruised and dead on a metal slab. Her beautiful hazel eyes lifeless. Her perfect skin cold and clammy. God, he had to know if she was alright.

Before he knew it, he was pulling up into Lima Central's nearly deserted car park, and he wondered how he'd gotten there so fast, but puts that thought to the back of his mind as he jumps out of the car, forgetting to turn off the engine, races around to take out Artie's wheelchair, and before he knows it, he was pushing Artie into the hospitals entrance, and shoving out anyone in his way.

Going straight up to the reception desk, he smacked his hands onto the cold surface of the marble counter, effectively catching the attention of the middle aged women sitting typing behind it on an ancient computer definitely from last decade.

Looking up, she pushed her glasses down the bridge of her nose and looked up curiously at Puck. "May I help you?"

"Quinn Fabray? Is there anyone in here named Quinn Fabray?" He blurted out, ignoring the fresh tears that were streaming down his face, clouding his vision.

Looking back down, she typed something out on her computer, shaking her head as she looked back up at him. "I'm sorry but we d-"

"She just came in from a car accident." He interrupted his breathing heavy, needing answers. Please tell me she's alive. Please tell me she's alive! Say she's alive already!

A sombre look appeared on her face as she nodded sympathetically.

"Yes." She said gravely.

No! She's not dead! Telling me she's not fucking dead! He internally screamed, but couldn't bring himself to actually say it out loud, his voice failing him greatly at the moment.

"We just had a young man and woman rolled in here a few minutes ago. Due to this fact, I'm not at liberty to discuss this wi-"

"She's the mother of my child!" He screamed, finally finding his voice, and effectively grabbing everyone in the areas attention as people stared at him before looking away, to engrossed in their own issues to really care.

The woman's expression softened as she nodded her head. "I see. Well the young lady is currently undergoing surgery, so I'm afraid you won't be able to see her. But you are free to wait here until we have any news on her condition."

Surgery? It couldn't be that bad could it? God… no, no, no, no, no, no… she had to be alright… she'd be alright… the… the doctors will make sure she's alright. They have to.

Turning around almost zombie like, he passed Artie and simply knocked into anyone in his way as made his way over to the creaky rusting seats in the back that lined the walls until the first hospital room, then changing to the other side. Plopping down onto one of the seats he let himself cry freely as he buried his head in his hands.

He didn't understand it. Everything started out fine. They'd actually won Regionals, beating the Warblers, then they'd headed off to City Hall to attend Rachel and Finn's wedding, not saying he was looking too forward to that though. Yeah, he was happy they were happy, but even he could tell they were rushing into things, and that was saying something coming from him.

When Quinn had told him she had to go home to get her bridesmaids dress, he hadn't thought anything of it. He should have stopped her. He could've done something. Talked to her for longer. Told her not to go.

It was all his fault.

It the logical part of his brain (which he didn't use too often), he knew he was over reacting, and it wasn't his fault. He couldn't have done anything to stop it, he didn't know, how could he have known?

But at this point, he couldn't help it; he couldn't help but think he could've done something to stop it, to stop her, to save her.

God, what he'd do to know she was alright.

He loved her, no, he wasn't in love with her, but he still loved her neither the less, and wouldn't know what to do if he lost her.

"Puck?" He heard someone's voice ask hesitantly, but he only ignored it, not wanting anyone to see him like this. He was pretty sure he had tear stained cheeks, a running nose and red puffy eyes.

"Puck." The voice said again, and he realized it was Artie who was talking to him.

Looking up, he could make out his friends face in front of him. He couldn't see him properly though, his vision hazy, and he had to rub at his eyes to actually see. Artie had a sad smile on his face as he readjusted his glasses.

Opening his mouth he spoke, but Puck could barely hear him, his ears blocked. "She's gonna be okay. She's a fighter." It was true, Quinn was a fighter. After all the shit she'd been through, she eventually came out of it on top. He truly hoped it would be the same this time around.

"What if she dies?" He asks in a small voice, not even sure he was the one to speak, or if he even spoke at all for that matter.

He heard Artie sigh, but didn't get a response, and Puck was once again left to his thoughts. He thought about the first time he'd met Quinn. It was four weeks into freshman year, and he'd been lucky enough to make it straight onto the football team after trials. He'd also befriended Finn, who he'd instantly become best friends with. He was resting during football practice, checking out Santana as she stretched next to Brittany.

Thinking back on it now, he can't believe he hadn't realised Santana was absolutely in love with Brittany, even back then. Then Quinn walked up to them, her hips moving side to side as her impossibly short Cheerio's skirt swished around as she went to sit next to Santana and follow her movements. He'd been gobsmacked at how hot she was, and was planning on asking her out until Finn had come up from behind him and said happily that Quinn had asked him out.

Puck hadn't been able to believe it. Why would she ask Finn out, and not him? It baffled him, and still did at times. And now she could be dead… he just couldn't live with that.

Santana sat in the back of the Berry's car, holding Brittany tightly, trying not to cry any more than she already was. She kept muttering the same thing, "please don't be dead, please don't be dead." No one said anything though, too caught up in their own thoughts.

She and Quinn may not 'ave gotten along all the time, but she was still her best friend. She was still the girl she had countless amounts of sleepovers with their freshman year before they met Brittany a month in. They told each other everything, gossiped together and she'd been her first kiss. Yes, the little Christian girl had been her first kiss.

It was another one of their typical sleepovers, but Brittany had been away on a camping trip, so once again it was just them. They were doing truth or dare, and Quinn had asked her if she'd kissed anyone yet. She'd been embarrassed by the question, saying no. Quinn also admitted she'd hadn't had her first kiss yet either.

They'd eventually gotten back into routine, continuing on with the game until they got bored and started watching Titanic. They hadn't really been watching it, and she remembered Quinn turning to her, asking if she was scared to kiss someone. Though she was slightly nervous, she'd said it'd be a piece of cake.

Then Quinn had asked to kiss her. She'd been so shocked she hadn't known what to do, and completely frozen up. Did Quinn Fucking Fabray just ask if she could kiss me? Was all she could think about. But her own reaction was even more shocking. She'd said yes. And they'd kissed. It hadn't lasted very long, just three seconds. It was simple, their lips touched, then they didn't.

Though they hadn't spoken of it since, she'd always remember. She was her best friend after all. People may consider Brittany her best friend, but she wasn't. She'd never considered her that, she always considered Brittany her soul mate, making Q her BFF. She couldn't lose her, she just couldn't.

At the sound of the engine stopping and Santana was instantly out of there, hand in Brittany's as she pulled her along, sprinting for the hospital entrance. She looked straight for the reception in her hazy vision, but was stopped when her eyes caught sight of Puck sitting on the floor on the other side with his back to the wall. He was crumpled over and in tears.

"Puck." She called as she ran over to her friend. People may have just thought they were just fuck buddies back when they were 'together', but it was much more than that. He was always there for her, like a protector who'd comfort her even if she was being a complete and utter bitch to him.

Falling to his side, he took one of his hands. "Puck, what happened? Is she alright?" She asked in a panic.

"Surgery." Was all he said and she looked up, her eyes meeting Artie's, who was seated in his wheelchair a couple feet away.

He nodded and she held back tears. At least she wasn't dead right? She still had a chance.

She heard crying behind her, and looked around to see Rachel with her arms wrapped around one of her dads as she cried into his chest. She didn't understand the bond Quinn and Rachel had. It was something foreign to her. Quinn had acted like a bitch to her for so long, but the girl didn't hate her. They didn't hate each other.

She'd thought they'd despise each other, but really, she was realising now, that maybe they cared too much for each other. The thought had crossed her mind on a few occasions, but she'd dismissed them, thinking she was going mad.

Shaking her head she looked back to Puck and hugged him. No, Santana wasn't the most affectionate person around, and she didn't give out many (if any) hugs to just anyone, so she understood the surprised look Artie had sent her way as she wrapped her arms around the mohawked boy.

Puck immediately responded by returning the hug as he sobbed shamelessly into the crook of her neck. She could imagine the strange looks that were probably being sent the group's way by others. One was in a wedding dress, while the others were in tuxedos and matching pink dresses.

Sighing, she pulled Puck in closer to her as she sat next to him, the two hugging in an awkward way, but she didn't care in the slightest. Quinn meant something to the both of them.

It'd been four excruciatingly long and painful hours since everyone had discovered the news of Quinn's accident. After crying for the first two, everyone was dry out of tears by now, but still held the proof with their stained cheeks.

Everyone was still there, sitting, waiting, for the news. But still nothing. Not a thing. All they'd been told was that she was in surgery. Not what for. Not why. Nothing.

Sitting on a row of seats in the waiting room, Tina was asleep and resting her head in Mike's lap, who was deep in thought thinking about Quinn. He still couldn't believe this was happening. Quinn was his friend. This wasn't happening.

They'd always been close. Maybe not best friend close, but they were there for each other when need be. When she was pregnant she was always so upset. Yea, she tried to act tough on the outside, but he could see she was breaking.

He remembered one day after football practice he'd finished changing late, and was walking across the field to the car park when he'd heard crying. He's not sure what made him go look, but he did. Walking up onto the bleachers, he'd spotted Quinn in the top corner crying. Their interactions before that were limited. He was just another footballer who was in the background and she was the head cheerleader.

Somehow he'd managed to get her to open up. She'd admitted Puck was the real father of her child. He'd been able to believe it. There was no way Finn would've had sex with her and not spilled it to the entire school. He'd been there when she'd needed a shoulder to cry on during her pregnancy, but unfortunately they didn't really spend much time together the following year.

Considering his new found relationship with Tina, he hadn't wanted to ruin things with her, not wanting Tina to get jealous, especially after the Brittany and Artie fiasco. Yea, she may've been there for him when he'd been having some trouble with his father, but they weren't as close as before.

Sighing he looked down at Tina with tired eyes as he stroked her hair affectionally before kissing her head quickly, laying his head back and looking up at the ceiling.

A few seats away, finely manicured nails scratched at the palm of their hands, nearly drawing blood from the constant nervous hesitations. Judy Fabray sat rigidly in the plastic green chair, back stiff, eyes brimming with dried up tears and mouth dry with questions.

She wondered to herself how things had come to this point. To the point where her daughter was fighting for her life, and she was only finally realising that in her daughter's 17 years, she didn't really know her. She needed her to come out of this, so she could apologise for everything.

To the outside world their family had always been perfect before Quinn's unexpected pregnancy and her kicking out of Russell when she'd discovered his infidelity. Even after over a year they still weren't' officially divorced.

She barely spoke with her daughter; expect for the typical 'have a good day sweetie' she'd shout out to Quinn whenever she'd leave for school or the 'mum I'm home'. In all honestly, she knew it was her own fault. She'd pushed her way, blaming her for her failed marriage. Though it was never outwardly spoken, she knew that's how her daughter felt.

And maybe it was true. Many nights Judy had found herself drinking in front of the TV, wallowing away in her self-pity. Only recently had she discovered the bills that were piling up. They'd come out of nowhere. She hadn't spent $10,000 dollars while in a casino in Vegas a month ago. She hadn't wasted $2,000 on a new barbecue set.

Then it'd hit her. Russell. They were still legally married, and his gambling ways and love for spending were finally catching up to her. She was forced to shift all her money to another account then pay for all the bills he'd forced upon them. She was currently planning on selling their house, things were getting that bad.

And she'd been pushing Quinn even more away because of this. She couldn't lose her now, she couldn't lose her ever.

Yes, she still had her oldest, Frannie. But she lived in Michigan with her husband and children, and the two had never been on good terms. Frannie had always been a daddy's girl, sticking to her father like glue. Quinn was all she had left. Without her she had nothing.