Okay, okay. My life got off track. Anyways, I've kept you waiting, so not any longer!

Enjoy!

That following Monday

Jew-girl was yelling at Mr. Shue, Homo and Aretha were doing vocal runs, Asian-goth and Wheels were racing back and forth, and Quinn sat in the corner of the room, long fingers gracefully playing the abandoned piano. Well, with one hand. But still. Oh, her grace.

If it wasn't for her, he would never be in here.

But everything was always Quinn. For his whole life, Puck had lived, alongside Finn, to make her happy. Most days the boys didn't even notice that she wasn't just a guy like them, but those rare moments occurred, and her femininity shone through. Quinn was tough on the outside, but delicate on the inside. Like a sunflower. She looked sturdy, but in reality, the threat of a bad stormed loomed, daring to knock her over. After all, petals aren't made to sustain hurricanes.

Most days Puck really did feel the pressure of being the only one of them left, the only man to take care of Quinn. Despite her insistence, Quinn did need people. She needed someone to hold her up and wipe her tears and now that Fin, the sentimental, perfect guy was gone, Puck had one hell of a job to do. He didn't know how to handle Quinn. Ever since Finn's death, everything had to be relearned. It was like the two didn't know what to be without him.

Oh, and what a job Puck was doing. Allowing her to get drunk and skip class. Finn was probably rolling over in his grave. Puck and he could do things like that, but not their Quinn. Quinn was a good girl. Of course, summertime and the boys and lazy days brought out her wild side, but not to this extent. Puck was corrupting her as he faced the ever-present struggle: Be Quinn's oxygen tank, or let her breathe on her own, even if it meant moments of suffocation?

Finding a balance was hard, but sucking it up and joining glee felt like a step in the right direction. Maybe Mr. Shue was right, maybe joy could be found through glee. Maybe he could finally hear what he hoped Finn was trying to tell him, that he was doing okay. That he would be okay.

Standing up from his back row red plastic seat, Puck made his way over to Quinn, joining her at the piano bench.

"Sorry if this isn't exactly what you thought it would be." She said softly, noting the chaos in the room.

"Eh, it's whatever. Besides, watching the freaks in their element in kind of interesting, like Animal Planet or some shit." He said back, offering a smirk only for her.

She returned it halfheartedly, absentmindedly plucking a few keys. "I guess its hard not to try and hold onto every piece of him that I can." She said finally, referring to Finn.

"I know." He looked down at his hands, for fear of what emotion her eyes held.

"And even if I can never feel again, I just want to feel him. People always say that can feel their loved ones, but I can't. He isn't here. I just, I'm ranting. Sorry."

He didn't want her to be sorry. He wanted her to talk again, forever, droning on the way she did when she was only around the boys, a total chatterbox. He missed the way she would rant, the secret, knowing smiles Finn and he would share as she talked their heads off during long, summer afternoons. Now she was reserved, and this kind of talk was rare. Yet, he couldn't find the words he wanted to say, to encourage her.

"It's cool." Yeah, not what he was going for. He confirmed the suspicion by noting the way she bit her lower lip and looked down, not meeting his gaze. Before he could backtrack and rephrase, Mr. Shue finally decided to get the room in order.

Everyone's timing was absolutely perfect today, Puck noted with sarcasm. He took a seat right next to Quinn, but yet it felt as though they were miles apart.

Mr. Shue was talking about some competition, sectionals, and how new members were coming in, how they needed one more, and how lucky they were that the competition was so late in the season. Quinn didn't hear any of it. Instead, her mind perceived her heartbeat, dull and lagging, Puck's far-off stare, the tick of the clock. Everything a reminder that here she was, still living, she still had time.

Finn didn't.

Lately, it was like her mind couldn't stop entertaining the damn thoughts about Finn. Ones of Puck weren't much better. Everything was confusing and made her head and heart hurt.

Why couldn't her head just explode already and release her memories of that night? She searched desperately for clues. News reports told her it was raining, but that never made it in her dreams. They told her the basics, but she hadn't been able to get her hands on much. She needed Puck, his words. She needed to know what he felt, what she felt, what really happened. Their story, not the media's. Really, what was the big deal with telling her? Something must have happened, something that he just couldn't tell. It made her want to know all the more.

"Quinn?" Her head shot up. Puck stood over her.

"Oh, it's time to go. I guess I just zoned out." She grabbed her bag, standing up.

"You didn't miss much. Berry wants solos but Hummel thinks he should have them. And Mercedes, don't even start with me on that chick."

"You know their names?"

"You can learn a lot in an hour when you pay attention, Fabray." Puck said, nudging her.

Fabray. There was such comfort in nicknames. It made her feel like things weren't as bad as she thought. That her and Puck could be normal, whatever that was.

She wasn't sure yet. But little by little, maybe they would define what their normal was.

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