Hi! Your response has been amazing, really. I wanted to mention that the cover image for this story was found on Google, and it is not my manip. All credit goes to its rightful maker/Glee. I think this chapter shows a little more of the AU in this story, so I hope you like that. I know you probably all have a lot of questions, and concerns, but please be patient, as well as leave them in the reviews! I'm more than happy to provide answers. I hope this is flowing okay, and that you all are enjoying it.

xoxo,

littlredwritinggleek

October 2009

Quinn walked down the hallways, the florescent lights blinding her as locker doors slammed, gunshots in her ears. Before the funeral, she hadn't ever had more than a glass of champagne to drink. She knew that a hangover was inevitable, but she didn't think it would be this bad. Or carry over to Monday.

She felt self-conscious as she walked, her purse slung around her, outfitted in simple jeans and a t-shirt. Her brace seemed to weigh her wrist down, and the scar on her collarbone felt like a shining traffic light, attracting everybody's attention. She reached up and tugged the beret that hid her messy hair down a little further. In all honestly, she felt disheveled and looked like hell. The fact that putting on actual jeans had felt like an accomplishment in the morning scared her. She wasn't her usual composed and perfect self, and everybody saw it.

"Here." She arrived at her locker to the sight of Puck standing against it, the door open. He handed her two Advil, watching as she swallowed them dry.

"What are you doing here." She stated, too tired to even add infliction to her voice. On top of getting stone-cold drunk, she hadn't gotten much sleep over the weekend.

"Making sure you get to class." he said, his expression blank.

"I'm a big girl, Puck. I can take care of myself."

"If you on Saturday was an indication, you aren't and you can't." She replied back, showing no emotion. Except maybe the exhaustion she felt.

"It was your idea to get drunk." She said, trying to remember which bright colored folder she needed. Since when did her school supplies become so obnoxious?

"It was a bad one. I should've known better than to involve you" He said, pulling out an orange folder and giving it to her.

Since when did he know that?

"Finn is dead. And you're yelling at me about you letting me drive out with you to the middle of nowhere and getting drunk." She said back. That was really all that had happened. After a short walk back to his house, Quinn and Puck drove to the deserted baseball field in Lima, sitting in a dugout and taking turns drinking. They were both silent, and eventually Quinn had passed out, waking up just as a secretly scared and equally drunk Noah deposited her in the car and drove her home, without accident or injury only by the grace of God himself. From there, he found her mom and , probably at the reception and worried sick, still gone. He put Quinn in her bed and managed to write a note saying that he took her home because it was too much for her to handle. That was how the whole body-guard thing started. Judy had called Puck and thanked him, asking him to look out for Quinn at school. He couldn't even face her, but somehow didn't have the heart to lie to Judy or flat out tell her no. So here he was, standing at Quinn's locker, handing her books and telling her to get to class.

"Your mom wants me to watch out for you. That's all this is. And you know what, Fabray? I don't really care if you get drunk and pass out every night. Do what you want then. But as for now, I have to make sure that you get to class."

"So that's what this is, you babysitting me. Well, you don't have to. I don't need to waste your time." She said. Part of him knew that she was holding back tears, and that killed him. He hadn't meant to come off as harsh-sounding as he had. It was a reflex, a defense mechanism.

"Look,Quinn. I hate to be the one who has to 'keep you in line' or whatever, and believe me, I am not about to get all emotional and shit. This whole this is fucked up, and I don't want to be here any more than you do."

"Then let's go." she said evenly.

"What?"

"Like you've never cut class before. I don't want to be here and neither do you, so let's go. I have a massive headache and I really could care less about math right now."

He stopped. If Quinn was suggesting leaving school then it had to be serious. He didn't know if he wanted to let that happen, though. He couldn't just enable her behavior, encouraging her to cut class with him, even it had been her idea. But then again, he took a good look at here. She shouldn't have even been at school. He hadn't wanted to and wasn't planning on it until Judy roped him into, adamant about Quinn staying productive as she "healed" or whatever. She didn't deserve to be sitting through classes ready to fall asleep. The part of him that warned him about the whole thing, letting her drink away her pain and now cut class, was silenced by the sad look in her eyes and the bags under them. If he knew one thing, it was that Quinn's whole life had been structure. He now had the chance to let her breathe, find herself. If that meant cutting class, so be it.

"Fine." He finally answered, putting her books back in her locker. If they left now, before the bell, no one would see them walk out, and every teacher would assume that they weren't in class because of Finn. Puck didn't know how long that excuse would be good for, but it saved their asses this time, and Judy would think he kept his promise. It was win-win.

Puck didn't know where exactly to take Quinn. Usually when he cut her stayed at his own house or drove to where ever he felt like going. All Quinn looked like she needed was sleep. His mom was at work at the hospital until late, so Quinn could probably stay at his place until after school.

"Text your mom and tell her I'm driving you home." He said, making a turn. She pulled out her phone and obliged, eyelids fluttering slightly.

When he finally pulled into his drive, she seemed to finally regain her wits, aware of where she was, only a few streets down from her own home. Growing up, the close proximity between her, Finn, and Puck had always seemed like a good thing. Now, it just made her feel sad. Puck was a few streets over but it felt like he was a world away.

"Why here?" she asked, looking at him.

"Because I have stuff here that I need to do anyways. And you need to sleep." She nodded, seeming to agree with him for the first time that day, and got out of the car, following him into the familiar house. The Puckerman home was small, but with two stories, the outside off-white with blue shutters.

She looked around. The place was a bit messier than usual, probably the result of Ruth working and Puck not doing much house work, understandable given what had happened. Quinn had always known that he had a lot of his plate. While his mom worked, Puck was responsible for himself, the house, and taking care of his eight-year old little sister Sarah. On top of that he had football and cleaned pools whenever possible. However, being in the home made her relax, and she didn't feel as distant for a moment.

"Do you need help, with anything?" She asked. It wasn't to be rude, and he luckily didn't take it that way. She felt her self at ease a little more, slowly falling back into old ways with him. When things got especially stressful around his home, Finn and Quinn had always come over, whether it was to help watch Sarah or help Puck sort out the messes that always occurred a little later on when Puck's father made random appearances. And the same went for Finn's place, whenever his mom had worked late or had spent all day locked in her room, crying. They were able to be there for each other.

"I've got it. You can just head upstairs. You seriously look like hell." He said, shooting her a look. She rolled her eyes in response, turning away to go to his bedroom.

When Quinn had left, Puck sighed, looking around the kitchen. He had been a complete mess the entire weekend, something he still felt guilty about. His mom was a hard-working nurse, and relied on him. He felt like her let her down as he looked at the room, beginning to clean it up. Lately he didn't know what he was going to do. On top of his family life, he now had Quinn to worry about. It wasn't like she was this unwanted burden, but Puck knew how much she needed him. Judy was going to go the traditional route, trying to send her to therapy and whatnot. He knew that all of that wasn't what Quinn needed. She was far beyond expressing her feelings. When they had been sitting in the dusty dugout in silence, he'd seen her, watched her. The more she drank, the more she mumbled things about Finn and missing him. Puck had lost his best-friend, but so had Quinn. He had to remember that, even if being selfish and only caring about himself was easier. Yet, every time he tried to say the right thing he ended up sounding like a heartless douche to Quinn. Although, in a small way, she needed that. Everyone else was going to tip-toe around her, and Puck knew she hated that. The way people had been addressing both of them really had just come off as coddling, and irritating, because no one really got it,

Soon enough, he found himself in a clean kitchen, moving on to the living room, quietly lost in his thoughts.

Upstairs, Quinn lay on his bed, the only thing preventing her from falling asleep her thoughts, racing through her head at a non-stop rate.

Quinn had only been on Puck's bed one other time before. It was when she was thirteen and Finn had been gone for the weekend for a trip with Carole. Quinn's father had come home and Judy and he had been yelling non-stop. Quinn sneaked out and rode her bike to Puck's, climbing up through his window. She sat on his bed and quietly cried, knees tucked up to her chest. Seeing him for the first time in eight years had hurt, and Puck understood. Eventually, when her shoulders stopped shaking and she looked up, she met his eyes, kind and caring. And then, he reached out, wiped away a tear with his thumb and said "You seriously look like hell, Fabray."

And now here she was, three years later, wondering if he even remembered saying that to her the first time. It had given her heart a weird flutter the first time, a feeling she hadn't ever understood, and this time, curled up on his navy blue comforter, was no different, the lack of understanding included. When they were thirteen, he had grabbed the copy of Breakfast at Tiffany's and put it in, settling next to her. It was her favorite movie, and his mom just so happened to own it. He knew from her bad days that she always felt better after watching it. Now, she looked around the room that hadn't changed at all, breathing in the comforting scent of cologne and worn leather. Puck's room was simple. His oak twin bed was pushed up against the wall, and contained the comforter and gray sheets, two pillows resting against the headboard. He had a matching desk with a small television on it, now probably used for playing his Xbox. Besides a closet door and another one that led to a small en suite bathroom, the whole thing was bare and clean, the wood floors dirt-free. Despite being a guy, Puck was a clean person, as was Quinn. She knew he was because he had no choice, his mom simply wasn't home enough to be the house's main caretaker. Quinn then thought of Finn, his cowboy wallpaper, and Carole, who cleaned his room for him. The two boys really had been different when it came to who they were outside of school.

Eventually, the lack of sleep hit her, and Quinn drifted off, unaware of when Puck came up ten minutes later, putting Breakfast at Tiffany's on quietly before shutting the door behind him.

With Quinn dead asleep upstairs and the whole house clean and in order, Puck was left alone, trying to find something decent to watch. The time being only 9:30, there was nothing but morning talk shows and everything on ESPN seemed to be repeats, and it wasn't like football highlights were his top priority. In fact, he was contemplating quitting. The team had been amazing, their season flawless, but with Finn gone, he didn't know if he could bear to play. Pushing all thoughts of Finn aside, he let his mind drift to Quinn. He never would've guessed that she would be practically knocked out on his bed like this. The last time she was over by herself had been when she was thirteen and came over. He remembered her crying, and then watching the movie together. She always went on about Audrey whatever all the time, a lover of old movies. He'd remembered that when cleaning, finding the copy of Breakfast at Tiffany's while cleaning. He didn't thinks he'd wake up in time to see any of it, but Puck knew it made her feel better. The last time as soon as it was over, she'd fallen asleep. Puck remembered not knowing what to do, eventually just distancing himself from her, trying not to take in the way she slept so peacefully. From there he had woken up early, making sure that she didn't know he'd stayed in his bed, before getting her back home safe and sound.

The truth was. even then, it was hard to leave the bed, not to look at her hair sprawled over the pillow, the sound f her even breathing compelling, like a lullaby.

Now, when he'd first gone in to check on her, he'd looked once again. He couldn't though. The whole thing wasn't right. It never was and never would be. Quinn was not his to look at.

After sifting through the channels and settling for the morning news, Puck made coffee and thought about what was going to happen. The feeling of the whole ditching school thing not being a one-day ordeal was still in him. But what was he going to do? Let Quinn sleep on his bed everyday while he stayed downstairs and tried not to think about her sleeping in his bed, all while seeing Finn in his mind? Damn Finn. Of course it had been him. Finn was innocent and happy all the time, in the way that made you want to be near him. Puck had never been like, not the ray of sunshine Finn had been. It really should have been himself, Puck always thought. No one cared about him, he wasn't in the spotlight. If Finn was the sun, Puck was the shadow, always following behind silently. Always the sidekick, the quiet one, the loner. No one would have cared if he was gone. Puck wondered if Quinn resented him. After all, it was her boyfriend that was dead, while his fuck-up friend was still very much alive. If Puck had died, Finn wouldn't have allowed for Quinn to get so drunk she passed out after the funeral. He would have been emotional, holding Quinn as they cried together. He would have treated her like she was fragile, and Puck just wasn't capable of that.

A sharp scream interrupted his thoughts, instincts kicking in has he raced up the stairs two at a time. What was Quinn doing, was she okay?

He found her, sitting up on his bed, shaking. Quickly he went over to her.

"Quinn?" Nothing. He put his hands on her arms, trying to calm the shaking. "Are you okay?" In the background, Audrey Hepburn was flinging items around the room on the screen.

"I had the dream." She said, looking up. He sat down on the edge of his bed.

"The dream?" He asked, confused.

She went on to explain her typical nightmare to him as he listened intently.

"I have dreams, too. It's okay."

"No,it isn't. Because that dream, that is all I can remember from that night. What actually happened, I don't remember it." she said, looking down at her hands.

Puck didn't know what to say. What could he? Quinn and he had been through a very traumatic experience, and she had mentally suspressed it against her will. But the details were horrifying, he couldn't just divulgde them when she was so upset.

"That's fine. It's just,um, your way of coping. A defense mechanism. When you're ready you'll rnemeber, Quinn. Just give it time," He finished, looking at her.

"Okay." She said after a moment, taking in what he just said. He could see the disappoiment on her face, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, you're right. Time." she finally finished, rubbing her eyes.

Sitting next to her, he grabbed the remote, rewinding the movie.

"From the beginning?" he asked, giving her a small smirk. She resisted the urge to cuddle in next to him.

"Yeah, from the beginning."

They were both talking about more than just the movie.