Thank you for the follows and reviews I've received so far. All are welcomed and appreciated.

Author's Note - In this story, I've created my own version of what happened when Quinn got pregnant, how she told her parents, who she stayed with, etc.

When Rachel received the news about Quinn, she felt completely wrecked.

It was like someone had punched her in the stomach with an iron fist. She temporarily forgot how to breathe and it was only collapsing into a heap on the floor that brought her back to her senses.

She had sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and proceeded to sob.

Quinn, her cheerleader, her forbidden love, once-in-a-lifetime romance was dead.

She was gone, and Rachel would never see her again.

She would never see that soft smile or kiss those pouty lips or hear that breathy voice or run her fingers through that silky blonde hair again. It had been a long time since her and Quinn had ended their relationship, but she had never forgotten it and a part of her would always belong to the blonde.

As soon as her flight landed in Lima and her fathers took her home, she drove herself to Puck's house and threw herself into his arms. They had cried together for hours.

"Noah," she choked out finally, her own voice sounding strange to her after staying silent for so long. "I feel like part of my heart has been ripped out and destroyed."

Puck remained silent, staring at the floor.

"Noah?"

Nothing.

"NOAH!" Rachel cried out, beginning to sob hysterically. He finally turned to her, and the look on his face was one that Rachel would never forget.

His eyes were red, his face streaked with tears. But his expression was dead,

"She's gone," he whispered, a storm of emotion blowing through his eyes and his face finally breaking into the most unbearable sadness Rachel had ever seen.

She had spent the night with him. Together, they lied on the bed and held hands. Never sleeping, they went back and forth between crying and comforting each other.

The funeral was awful.

A week after tragedy struck, Rachel got her letter.

She had been out on a walk, hoping for distraction. When she returned to her house, there was a white envelope with her name written on it in Quinn's handwriting.

She almost collapsed again.

With trembling hands, Rachel picked up the envelope and took it inside. She stumbled her way into her room and sat down on the bed, not knowing what to think.

She was terrified to open the letter.

But she had to.

Slowly, Rachel tore open the envelope and taking a deep breath, she began to read.

Rachel, my beautiful shining star,

Once upon a time, I hated you. Throughout freshmen and the majority of sophomore year, I relentlessly tortured you. I ordered football players to throw slushies in your face, I christened you with vile nicknames, and I threw insults your way like poison darts, all purely out of spite. I was the head cheerleader, the head bitch in charge, and you were nothing but another loser who was blocking my path to popularity.

Right? Isn't that how the story goes?

Rachel was immediately thrown back into freshmen year. She closed her eyes and could so perfectly picture Quinn parading down the hall, flanked by Santana and Brittany, all clad in their Cheerio uniforms.

No.

Not right.

Wrong.

So incredibly wrong.

Do you know why I was so awful to you, Rach? I know I've mumbled sorry excuses for my behavior in the past and you've just brushed them all away, saying you've forgiven me, but it's high time you knew the truth – do you have any idea why I hated you for so long?

Well, let me enlighten you on something, Rachel Barbra Berry. Contrary to very popular opinion and belief, I have never once in my life hated you. To be completely honest, I think I loved you from day one. I've always had a bad habit of wanting the things I can't have, and I absolutely could not have you.

Despite how many times I said it, though more to convince myself than anyone else, I didn't hate you, Rachel.

I never have.

That said, I despised what you had. I hated the things you had that I didn't.

You had self-confidence, whereas I had a pretty girl mask that covered up how insecure I really was. You were comfortable enough in your own skin to love yourself, whereas I loathed and hated who I was.

But most of all, you have the one thing in the world I wanted more than anything else and the one thing I knew I would never had.

Parents who loved you.

You had two loving, adoring fathers who tried their hardest to protect you from all the hurt in the world. I had a father who abused me, and a mother that did nothing to stop him and instead chose to cower behind him.

Rachel gasped in shock, looking up from the paper and closing her eyes.

Of course, she has always secretly suspected there was something going on with Quinn's family but this - she didn't want to read anymore. If Quinn's father had truly abused her, Rachel didn't think she could bear to read the details.

But she had to.

She had to keep reading.

For my entire life, I have been told that I am beautiful and that I am perfect. I heard it from my mother, who trained be in the ways of beauty and taught me how to control my emotions, meaning there were to be no emotions in the Fabray household. I heard it mockingly from my sister, who loathed me because I was the favorite, even though I despised the spotlight and wished she could see that. I heard it from people at school, people in the streets, the men from my father's office when they came over for dinner, and the women in my mother's book club who stopped by every week for tea and cookies.

But most of all, I heard it was from my father, who set his utmost highest expectations for me. I was raised, practically bred, to be the perfect daughter – blonde, pretty, quiet unless spoken to. I was to be Daddy's little princess and if I wasn't, there was always a price to pay.

Let me be clear – my father did not physically abuse me. He smacked me across my face exactly once, when he found out that I was pregnant. But that was the only time and believe me, I considered myself lucky that a red cheek was the only physical mark I walked away from that conversation with.

His style of abuse was all mental and emotional, full of sick and twisted mind games that I never wanted to play. He made me hate the person I was and there was nothing I could do to stop him. My father expected perfection and nothing less.

He used religion, "Consider yourself blessed that God created and intended for you to be perfect, Quinn."

He used school, "There better be straight A's on that report card, Quinn."

He used cheerleading, "I expect you to come home from tryouts as the new head cheerleader and lead the team to victory, Quinn,"

For fifteen years, that was my life; nothing but expectations of perfection. If I didn't deliver, I suffered the consequences. Yelling. Screaming. Threats. Insults. Slurred rants when he was drunk. And worst of all, in my adolescent eyes, that knowledge that I was a disappointment to my father.

That was my life, and it very nearly destroyed me.

Tears filled Rachel's eyes and spilled over.

Finally. The truth.

The horrible, awful, eye-opening truth about the Quinn's childhood.

So when you waltzed into my life on the first day of freshmen year, confident and friendly and from such a loving family, I knew that it was people like you who would be my downfall at school. You had a power that I didn't – you had love on your side, whereas all I had was my popularity.

So I took it all out on you. I punished you. And for what? Things you had no control over.

I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did to you, Rachel. I am so, so sorry.

"I forgave you a long time ago," Rachel whispered, choking back more tears.

And it was true. Rachel had always known Quinn didn't simply hate her. A person does not outright hate someone with so much vigor for no reason. Quinn had always had a reason, and Rachel had always figured that it must be a damn good one for the way Quinn treated her.

And she was right. It was a good reason.

So, in all honesty, she had forgiven Quinn before the blonde ever even apologized.

Everything changed when I got pregnant.

Rach, I know you've experienced a lot of pain and fear in your life, a lot caused by me, but you cannot possibly imagine the sheer terror I felt when I found out I was pregnant.

It wasn't supposed to happen to me. I was a good Christian, a good girl, Daddy's little angel-faced Quinnie. Not only had I gotten pregnant, meaning I'd sinned and had sex with someone before marriage, but I cheated on my boyfriend with his best friend. To have to deal with all that, on top of slowly starting to realize that I had feelings for you, another girl?

I really and truly almost ran away, Rachel. Even having absolutely nowhere to go would have been better than facing what I knew was to come.

I would have run away if it hadn't been for her.

For Beth.

As I stood on my front porch, debating on what to do with my life, I looked down at my stomach and it hit me – even though it was too early for any physical signs of pregnancy to show, I was carrying a tiny little person inside of me. A tiny little Quinn.

I started to imagine what she would look like. I always had a feeling she would be a girl. I pictured a miniature version of myself running around. Would she have blonde hair, or take after Puck in that department? What would her personality be like? Would she want to be a cheerleader, like me?

And all of the sudden, it wasn't just a baby inside of my stomach – she was my baby, my daughter, my perfect thing.

Even though I knew from the beginning that I wouldn't be able to keep her, couldn't provide her with the life she deserved, I also knew that I couldn't run away. Running away would only put her life in danger and even on that first day, I already loved her too much to risk her health.

So I marched inside, calmly told my parents that I was pregnant, and all hell broke loose.

My father was livid. Furious. Enraged. And those are all understatements. He slapped my face so hard it left a bruise for two weeks. The small scar under my left eye? That's from one of his nails catching my cheekbone and breaking the skin. He told me I was no longer to call myself a Fabray, because I was no daughter of his. I looked to my mother but all she did was cry helplessly. My father told me I had 30 minutes to pack up my things before he kicked me out of the house.

You have no idea what that felt like, Rachel. No one could ever even come close to feeling how I felt when my own parents disowned me at sixteen years old and left me homeless on the street.

It was so heart-breaking that Rachel allowed herself several moments to cry in pain for the beautiful, broken, abandoned blonde.

Life had been so unfair to Quinn Fabray.

Naturally, I went to Finn's house first. He still believed it was his baby, and he and his mother graciously took me in. However, as soon as the truth came out, they felt no obligation to continue to provide a place for me to stay.

I went to Mercedes next. We had never been the closest of friends, but I had seen sympathy on her face when you announced to all of glee that Puck was the father – and once again, no I'm not mad at you for that. You only did what I wasn't brave enough to do. However, Mrs. Jones wasn't a huge fan and I soon left on my own, not wanting to be a burden.

That's when Puck brought me home to his house. Mercedes had taken it upon herself to call him after I left, and he picked me up from her front porch. We were silent in the car until finally, he spoke.

"I may be a screw-up most of the time," he said quietly, looking straight ahead at the road as he drove. "But I promise if there's one thing I don't screw up, it will be this. I hurt you, Q, probably worse than you've ever been hurt and then I left you to deal with it on your own. I swear to God that I will never do that to you again. I will be here to support you and our daughter, no matter what happens."

Tears ran down his face as he spoke, and I felt my own eyes stinging. How do you respond to something like that? We both cried silently for several minutes before I found my voice.

"So…you think she's going to be a girl, too?"

Puck glanced at me and I gave him a small shrug, smiling. He grinned and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. No doubt. I can see her already – hot like her mama and a stud like her daddy. Little Jackie Daniels."

I smacked his arm.

"We are NOT naming our child Jackie Daniels. That is just vile, Puck."

He chuckled and refused to reply. We fell into a comfortable silence before I spoke again.

"You know we can't keep her, right?"

Puck was quiet for a few moments, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah. I know," he said finally. "But you should know that…if things were different…timing, situation…"

"I know. Me, too."

"You, too?"

"Yeah. Me, too."

True to his word, Puck never left me to deal with anything on my own ever again. He took care of me throughout the entire pregnancy and was there every step of the way the night Beth was born. You were there; you all were. So you saw for yourself how much Puck grew up that night. He was a real man, and I was so proud of him.

As she read, Rachel's heart swelled with pride for Noah Puckerman. She had always known he'd had it in him to be the man she knew she was.

Things got hard again after we gave her up.

I was a mess; an emotional train wreck on the path to self-destruction. Careless to the point of recklessness. I started to drink, in an attempt to numb the pain I felt. Every second of every minute of every day, Beth was on my mind. I had thought nothing could ever hurt worse than my parents kicking me out, but giving up Beth proved that thought wrong. I have never been in so much emotional pain as I was in the first month after she was born. I drank myself into numbness more nights than I can count.

At one point, I remember thinking to myself, "Dying is probably less painful that this."

Here I am, five years later, dying. And you know what?

I was right. Even this hurts less.

No one could help. No one knew what I was feeling. Not even Puck. He hadn't carried Beth inside of him for nine months. He didn't know what that was like. I refused to let anyone near me. I even lashed out at Santana and Brittany, who have been my best friends since I was five years old.

I'll be completely honest with you, Rachel…I was ready to die at that point.

One thing pulled me out of my misery. Exactly one person was able to provide me with light again after I fell into a pit of darkness and despair.

That person was you.

"Quinn," Rachel whispered, tears streaming down her face.

The day I kissed you in the bathroom changed my entire life. I don't know why I did it; I probably never will. But for some reason, seeing your sad face after being slushied was my breaking point. It was as if finally I had something I could focus on besides Beth. I couldn't fix myself or my own problems. I couldn't take away my own pain.

But I could take away yours.

So I kissed you. I kissed you and you kissed me back. When I pulled away and started to cry and all you did was kiss me more, it was like I could finally breathe again.

You saved my life, Rachel.

As brief as it was, our love was real and true and the only thing that kept me alive after giving up Beth. I will never forget it. The memories I have with you are ones that I treasure in the deepest parts of my soul.

A piece of my heart will always belong to you, Rachel.

Quinn's words were slowly starting to feel like a band-aid on her broken heart.

"I love you so much, Quinn," Rachel murmured. "You know you have my heart. You always have."

I owe you my life and you owe me absolutely nothing. But I'm going to ask you to do me a favor, anyways. You don't have to do it, but I truly hope you take it into consideration.

You know that I stayed in touch with Shelby. I know you think I don't know, but I do. I know it was you who overheard me speaking to her on the phone that day, right before Beth's second birthday.

So, now that that knowledge is out in the open, I have a request. Beth is six now, about to turn seven. I'd love it if you gave her singing lessons. Nothing crazy – do not turn her into a little you. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but the world only has enough room for one Rachel Berry.

That said, she already has the speaking voice of an angel; I can only imagine what her singing voice will sound like. Teach her how to sing, Rachel. Pass onto her your love and enthusiasm not only for music, but for life. I want her to grow up with your confidence, your love for yourself, your passion for the things and people you love.

More than anything, I wish I could give her everything that my parents didn't give me. But I can't, so I'm hoping you'll help.

Already, Rachel knew she would fulfill Quinn's request. She had seen pictures of Beth via Shelby; the little girl was absolutely beautiful, and looked so much like a tiny version of Quinn that it was scary.

Beth was their little Quinn now.

"We'll take care of her," Rachel vowed. She had a vague feeling she wasn't the only person who had received a letter from the blonde and had an inkling that similar requests were made to the others, as well.

There aren't words strong enough to tell you how much I admire and look up to you, Rachel. You are an inspiration. You are truly one in a million, and there will never be another person with a drive and love for life like yours.

I'm sorry for the way I treated you for so long. I'm sorry for not being brave enough to give you the kind of love you deserved. I'm sorry for leaving you now the way I am.

But I'm not sorry for kissing you.

Not anymore.

I love you, Rachel. Always have. Always will.

Forever yours, Quinn

Rachel finished reading the letter and was about to place it back in the envelope when she noticed there was something in it that she had missed taking out.

Upon discovering what it was, tears immediately spring into the tiny brunette's eyes.

It was a picture of her and Quinn, captured by one of Rachel's fathers. Clearly, he had been sneaking around with his camera, because it appeared as though neither girl knew the picture was being taken and Rachel had no recollection of ever seeing it before.

They were sitting together on the Berry's living room couch. Rachel had her head resting on Quinn's shoulder as she watched whatever had been on the television. Quinn was looking down at her, that signature soft smile gracing her lips.

Rachel flipped the picture over and found a message on the back.

"Sometimes, you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself."

Thank you for finding me when no one else could.

Thank you for helping me find myself.

I love you.

"I love you, too, Quinn," Rachel said softly, gazing down at the picture and the letter. "I love you, too."

I've already started the next chapter so it should be up by tomorrow.

As always, reviews are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed it!