A/N: This will progress through time, jumping a month in some cases, up to a year or more in others.
A/N 2: For the purposes of this story, Puck and Rachel are both juniors.
A/N 3: Ok, so for the purposes of my story, Quinn's giving birth in August of 2010.
Chapter 3: Birth
August 2010
Rachel was hot. She was sticky, cranky and hot.
August was always Lima's hottest month but it seemed even hotter this year. It was late, after midnight and as hard as she tried, Rachel couldn't get to sleep.
She'd tried everything before resorting to lying on top of her blankets, completely nude, her fan blowing semi-hot air across her body.
Rachel was seconds away from a total meltdown when her phone lit up. She didn't even glance at the time, she knew it was late enough to only be one person.
She fumbled for her phone, squinting as it as her eyes adjusted to the sudden white light.
Noah: Are you up? I need you to be awake.
There was something different about this text. Normally, his requests had a sexual undertone to them. This one didn't, it seemed more desperate.
Berry: I am. What's wrong?
Noah: Not going into it over text. I'll be at your window in 5 minutes.
Even more concerned, she slipped out of bed and pulled a pair of thin black shorts and a white tank top. She pulled her hair into a bun, desperate to get it off her face.
Just as she slid her window open, he was there, crawling in.
She kept her light off, the moon casting more then enough light into her bedroom.
One look at his expression and she knew this wasn't a normal visit. She took a tentative step towards him and rested her hand on his forearm.
"Noah?" She asked softly.
"My daughter was born 2 hours ago. We didn't even name her, I didn't even hold her. I saw her once… They took her away. The nurse said I could visit her in the nursery but… I… I couldn't. I knew if I did, I'd tear up the adoption papers. And adoption, that's the best thing, right?" He finished, his voice quiet and his tone wavered.
"You did the right thing Noah. You gave her a chance at a life you and Quinn couldn't give her." Rachel whispered softly as she wrapped him in her arms.
"Why does it feel like I just royally fucked up then?" He questioned into her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"I know it hurts now, but soon, it'll hurt less. And one day, it'll just be an ache, but you'll be able to live with it. I promise." She told him, her voice soft and soothing against his cheek.
"Rach?" He rarely used her given name, even now, after everything that had gone on between them.
"Yes Noah?"
"I'm sorry… I know we don't… We don't do this but I didn't really know… I guess I didn't have anyone else." He muttered out, his eyes shining with emotions he wasn't comfortable experiencing, let alone talking about.
Wordlessly, she analyzed the situation in front of her. Then, after careful deliberation, she reached down and slowly slid her shorts off, her top following directly after.
He didn't say anything, he just watched. While his normal predatory gleam was absent, he was still unable to pull his eyes away from her. She took a step forward and grasped his hand in hers. She pulled him to her connected bathroom.
After shutting and securing the door behind them, she turned the water to a tepid temperature before turning her attention back to him.
Quietly, she pulled his shirt over his head and pushed his basketball short to his feet. He stepped out of them dutifully, his eyes never leaving her.
She took hold of his hand once again and led him to the shower. She climbed in first, he was second.
Both quietly marveled in the faintly cold water cooling down their heat soaked bodies
She stepped from the spray to allow him to feel the water sluice down his back. He tilted his head back and sighed.
Her eyes never moved from his face. He pulled his head up and his eyes caught her gaze. He took two quick steps forward and she found herself trapped between the cool shower wall and his rock hard chest.
Not such a terrible place to be.
His lips dropped to hers and where she was expecting their normal frenzied teeth mashing, she got long, slow, laborious kisses. His hands snaked lazily down her body. He didn't grab or grope. He touched and caressed. His fingers were feather light against her breasts, the tips of them bringing her nipples to hard peaks.
His touch was softer, his kisses longer, more explorative. When he held onto her hips, he didn't dig his fingers into her sides like he usually did; he trailed them along the curve of her hip bone instead.
When he got close, he didn't dig his teeth into her shoulder. He lightly sucked and gently nipped at her collar bone, sending a round of intense shivers down her spine.
She grasped onto him as her legs began to give out. The words he whispered into her ears weren't dirty or naughty. They were sexy and the lower timbre of his voice made her want to melt into him.
As she came down off her high, her brain began to clear. And she got it. She got what he'd been trying to accomplish.
He wanted-needed, to show someone he could care, he could love, he could be sensitive. He needed to prove that to himself just as much to the rest of the world.
Noah stepped out first, holding a towel out to her as he dried off.
Rachel accepted the towel and dried herself off, shivering slightly as the air hit her cool body.
"I… Umm…. I…Not really great at this sort of thing." He murmured, slightly embarrassed.
Her motions stilled as she listened to him try to explain what had just happened. And as badly as she wanted to hear it, as much as she wanted to know what he thought of what just happened, it was clear, now more than ever, the boy needed a free pass.
"It's OK. I get it." She whispered as she dropped the towel and stepped toward him. She covered his lips with hers in a sweet kiss.
Noah found himself falling into her kiss, her taste invading his senses. Just when he'd gotten comfortable, she pulled back.
"You should probably head home, I can imagine your mother is concerned." Rachel suggested softly.
She knew him too well. He never stayed long after their trysts. So she gave him yet another out.
But, truth be told, where he was, standing in front of Rachel, her profile lit by the moonlight, he didn't really want to leave.
He knew the rules though. After one last look, he nodded his head.
Silently, they walked to the window. He reached out and squeezed her hand, tightly. She let her gaze fall to their joined hands.
After a moment, he let go and made his way down the tree.
She closed the window and returned to her bed. Only then did she allow herself to cry. She didn't sob, her chest didn't heave. It was much quieter. A few tears pooled and spilled over onto her cheeks, each running its own river down her face. She cried. She cried for the boy who never quite totally belonged to her. She cried because he never would.
His feet hit the ground the moment the tears finally broke through. He wasn't a crier, not by a long shot. But in that brief spot in time, he allowed himself a moment to cry. He cried for the daughter he'd never know. He cried for the life he wouldn't get to give her. And somewhere in deep, un-visited corner of his mind, he cried for the girl two stories up from him, the girl that he'd never go to sleep with, never wake up with. A girl who was only his in the darkest hours of the night.
