A/N: A new chapter! Hooray! Reviews would be lovely, even just to let me know that you're still reading this story!

Not Another Mistake


Quinn sighed as the director yelled 'cut!' for the umpteenth time. Ryan was one of the most patient people in the business, but today, she was undoubtedly putting that to the test.

"Lucy baby," he said, being one of the few people who dared to call her by her real name. "I need this scene to be flawless." He paused and repeated himself, "Flawless. Do you understand me?"

She nodded, too distracted to even snipe at him for calling her Lucy like she normally would.

"Babe," Richard hissed from beside her, looking at her like she had gone off the deep end. "What the hell's going on? You never forget your lines. This is our eighteenth take and yes, I've been counting."

"Nothing," she assured him, even though the fact that Finn had a love child somewhere out there with his boss' ex-secretary was still gnawing at her mind. "Besides, I have to put up with you forgetting your lines on a daily basis, babe, so I don't know what you're complaining about."

He shut up after that. Richard was always good at knowing when to stop, a quality that Quinn appreciated in people, especially her boyfriends.

"Okay, from the top people," the director demanded, pausing for a few seconds for dramatic effect before he shouted, "And action!"

"Is my wife going to be okay?" Richard (as Carl Harris) blubbered, looking helplessly at the doctor.

He started to tear up at once, gripping tightly onto his wife's slender hand. Like Quinn, Richard could cry on command. It was a skill that came in handy often, especially in their line of business.

"Calm down, Mr. Harris," the doctor soothed, an amused smile on his lips. "Both mother and child are going to be fine."

A confused expression came to rest on his face as he gripped Quinn's hand a little tighter.

"Child?" he questioned, looking back and forth between his wife and the doctor. "What child?"

"Perhaps I've made a mistake," the doctor corrected himself quickly when he noticed the warning glance that came from Mrs. Harris.

"What child, Maria?" Richard asked, a practiced tension in his voice.

Silence.

Richard let out a frustrated groan when he realized that Quinn had missed her cue again. He acknowledged that Finn Hudson's death had really rocked her world, but she had been acting like a completely different person ever since that funeral. He had tried being the supportive boyfriend, but he would be the first to admit that he was starting to get a little frustrated with her. She was always on that computer of hers researching things, making calls to Amy, etc. Plus, not only had she been denying him sex as of late, but now she was forgetting her lines? Who was this girl? He had no freaking clue. All he knew was that he wanted the old Quinn Fabray back. He wanted his Quinn back.

"Cut!" the director yelled out in similar frustration, massaging his newly aching temples. "Everyone take twenty." He marched up to Quinn and warned her, "Lucy, whatever demon's possessed you this morning, get rid of it."

She nodded numbly at his command, not even realizing that she had missed her line again until she heard Richard swear heavily under his breath. Quinn sighed in disappointment at herself as she headed off to her dressing room, ignoring her boyfriend as he called after her. What was wrong with her? She was a professional. Everyone in the entertainment industry knew that. Quinn wished she'd never found out about Joseph Christopher Jennings. The knowledge of his existence was making her ask so many questions, ones she wouldn't be asking otherwise. Did she even know who Finn was anymore? Maybe she was in love with Finn Hudson, her first love, the boy she had known in high school. How much did she know about him now really? An office affair? A love child? Finn? Quinn let out a laugh at the idea, but the sound died on her lips because yes - Finn, office affair, love child. She was going to have to come to terms with that.

"How many times do I have to apologize, Quinn?" came a familiar (but unwelcome at the moment) voice from behind her.

She kept her eyes forward still, unwilling, unable to look at him.

"You don't have to apologize, Finn," she said, her voice betraying no emotions. "I've got no reason to be angry with you, really. What you did with your life is your business."

"Quinn, don't be like that," he pleaded with her, appearing in front of her. "I'm just as shocked as you are. I had no idea I had a son. I don't even remember having the affair. I swear!"

"Would you have told me if you had known?" she asked him, boring her eyes into his. "Would you have told me about Dana and Joseph eventually if you had remembered?"

He looked away from her for a brief moment, keeping silent. He knew he had to be honest with her.

"To be honest, probably not," he answered her finally, meeting her gaze again and her face fell almost immediately, which broke his heart. "I mean, I think I would have been too ashamed to say anything."

"Ashamed?" she echoed, the tone of her voice searching for more of an explanation.

"Yes," he affirmed, a tired sigh leaving his lips because after the bomb had been dropped last night, who could have expected either of them to get a good night's sleep? "I wouldn't have been…I'm not ashamed of Joseph if he is my son," he elaborated, wringing his hands together nervously. "I'm embarrassed I had the affair. It's so not me, you know?"

"What do you mean if?" Quinn snapped, unable to hold back her anger any longer. "I think you made it pretty clear he is when you broke the news to me yesterday."

She hated going off on him like this because did she really have a right to be angry with him? Okay, so, admittedly, she was mostly angry with herself. If she had fought for him, the two of them would be back in Lima right now, her a successful lawyer, maybe a real estate agent, and him working hard at Burt's garage. He would never have fathered a child with Dana Jennings. Hell! Right now, Finn might even be alive. Quinn brought a hand to her forehead, her head throbbing with pain. She felt like someone had split her head into two with an axe.

"Quinn," Finn started again, but was interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone.

"Hello?" she quickly answered the call, never more thankful for an interruption. "Hey Amy."

"Is Finn there?" Amy wondered, getting the feeling that he was. "Can you put us on speakerphone?"

Quinn glanced over at Finn uncertainly, but ultimately relented. He had the right to know anything that was related to his case she supposed.

"Sure, hold on," she said, doing exactly as she had been told. She got up to lock her dressing room door before she announced, "All clear, Amy."

"Okay great," Amy echoed, getting straight to the point. "So, Sam and I decided to pay a visit to Dana this morning."

Finn and Quinn shared a look but made no comment, waiting for her to reveal more details.

"She was unwilling to cooperate with us," she continued as both of them had expected. "Slammed the door in our faces the moment Sam showed her his badge."

"She has to cooperate with the police!" Quinn protested, the desperation evident in her voice.

Sure, she was devastated to learn that Dana and Joseph existed, but the blonde still wanted to bring Finn's killer to justice. If Dana had killed him out of spite, Quinn would make sure the woman rotted behind bars.

"Actually, no," her best friend corrected her. "Until we have some solid proof that Dana might be responsible for Finn's death, we can't bring her in for questioning. Sam and I showed up on her doorstep only with the hope that she would choose to give us some answers."

"Great," the blonde muttered under her breath and Amy dreaded to tell her what she and Sam had managed to discover next.

She knew that the blonde still held onto a very tiny sliver of hope that Finn might not be Joseph's father, that the affair had never happened, even though she would never admit to being quite so optimistic.

"To be honest, Quinn," she shared her thoughts, making sure to tread carefully. "Neither Sam or I think she killed him. For someone who's been a secretary all her life and who's currently unemployed, she's very well off if you know what I mean. If she did kill him, she didn't have a very strong motive."

"How much Amy?" Quinn asked between clenched teeth and Finn stood beside her, a confused expression on his face, not having understood what Amy had insinuated.

"Ten million," she stated, deciding that beating around the bush with her friend was not going to get them anywhere.

"Wow, ten million dollars, Finn," Quinn drawled out sarcastically, turning her head to the side to look at him. "I guess getting pregnant with your child was the best decision Dana ever made."

Before Finn could say anything, Amy interjected, "Yeah, actually Finn, the reason I asked Quinn to put us on speaker phone is because I wanted to ask whether or not you have any recollection of writing Dana a check for ten million dollars. We have no grounds to ask the bank to release that sort of information presently. If you do, Ms. Jennings wouldn't be very high on our suspects list and we could divert our attention to more…pertinent ones."

Quinn suppressed her anger for a moment to play messenger.

"He says no, but give him a second," she suggested, the bitterness in her voice about as subtle as a gun. "He might remember at any moment. All he needs is a trigger."

"Will you stop already?" Finn shouted, having finally snapped. "I said I was sorry, okay Quinn? What more do you want me to do? I wish I could rewind time, okay? I wish I could, but I can't."

"Okay," Amy interrupted, having sensed that Quinn had made his spirit really upset. "Everyone breathe, relax. Finn, you need to understand why Quinn's so touchy about all this. She's only dreamt of having your babies since like forever and now that she knows some other wom-"

"Amy, shut up," the blonde seethed, tearing her attention away from the man she was hopelessly in love with to berate her best friend. "Not one more word."

"Just trying to lighten the mood," she explained in her defense, unable to witness her friend blush furiously as Finn laughed from beside her, his earlier anger forgotten.

"Fine, truce?" Quinn suggested once she had composed herself, turning to Finn and stretching out a hand for him to shake.

Her mind momentarily flashed back to last night. For some reason, when Finn had knelt down beside her and gripped tightly onto her hand, his touch had felt so real. She wondered whether or not he had noticed the same thing. The anticipation on his face told her that he had. Cautiously, he reached out to grip her hand and much to both of their disappointment, his hand went straight through hers. Had that moment simply been a figment of their imaginations? It had to be, right? Quinn had certainly never had any physical contact with any of the ghosts she encountered.

"Truce," Finn agreed, returning his hand to his side reluctantly. "So, what now?"

Quinn relayed his question to Amy, since she pretty much had the same one.

"Sam would kill me for this since you happen to be emotionally invested," Amy warned her. "But how would you like to help with the investigation? Informally, of course."

"As much as I would love to have a little chat with Dana only to confirm that yes, Joseph is Finn's son and yes, he wrote them a check for ten million dollars for cliché reasons, I think I'll pass," Quinn said, forcing a smile.

Amy knew just how to push her buttons though.

"We're working on Finn's memory here, Q," she reminded her, hoping that this would motivate her to make a visit. "He only saw a short scene in his mind. Even his own assumptions of his life could have been…misguided."

"Are you actually trying to suggest that maybe Joseph isn't Finn's child?" Quinn spluttered in disbelief, even though her eyes lit up at the possibility.

"We'll never know for sure until we hear it from the woman herself," Amy continued to encourage her, although she was sure that she had already reeled her best friend in - hook, line, and sinker.

Quinn turned to look at Finn, looking to him for an opinion.

"Maybe I am wrong," he offered, but the tone of his voice suggested that he wished he wasn't.

The blonde was about to call him out on that, but she stopped herself short because minus the affair, why wouldn't Finn want Joseph to be his child? He was dead. Children were certainly not an option for him anymore, so he was probably happy to know that he had left a son in the world. Suddenly, another thought occurred to her.

"Wait, what about Finn's will?" she questioned. "If Joseph's his son, surely he would have left something for him and Dana in addition to the ten million he already gave them."

Finn shook his head from beside her. He had no recollection of leaving anything for either of them. He remembered leaving a huge part of his fortune to Santana though, but he kept that to himself because he doubted that Quinn needed to hear that.

"Good point," Amy agreed, making a note to get in touch with Finn's lawyer. "So, you'll do it then?"

"Yeah, yeah," Quinn promised her with a wave of her hand. "I'll go and see her after we finish filming for the day. Text me the address. Here's to hoping she's a fan of me."

Amy laughed on the other end of the line and pointed out to her, "Who doesn't? You're one of the hottest celebrities out there right now. Every girl wants to be you and every guy wants to do you."

"True," Quinn responded, echoing her laugh. "I'll let you know what I find out. Bye."

She hung up the phone just as her assistant called her back to the set.

"Wait, Q," Finn called out from behind her. "Are we okay and…can I tag along later?"

She turned around and offered him a small smile, "Yes, to both. While I'm filming here, do you mind going to check up on Rachel? Amy's concerned about her."

Finn raised an eyebrow at her, wanting to ask for details, but didn't. He was sure Quinn would explain everything to him later.

"I'm on it," he said before fading from her dressing room.

He had yet to pay a visit to Rachel anyway.


Santana was super nervous as she headed toward the critical care unit of the hospital where she was told Brittany was (well, Karin Wallach). She had spent the night rolling around in her bed back at the hotel, unable to sleep. What was she going to say to her when she saw her? She had been asking herself that question ever since she got off the plane and she still didn't have an answer for herself. Her breath caught in her throat when she turned the corner because Brittany was standing there behind the counter chatting with one of the doctors. She pinched herself for good measure because after looking for her for so long, she had finally found her and that took some really good luck. Santana swore to herself that she would be a better person from now on, which wouldn't be hard she knew because she was always the best version of herself whenever she was around Brittany.

She took cautious steps toward the counter and murmured, still in shock over her presence, "Brittany."

Brittany whirled around when she heard her name. Even though she had been Karin Wallach for awhile now, she often found herself responding to her old name still, but that voice…Oh God. Santana? Quickly, she composed herself.

"Are you here to see a patient Miss?" she managed to ask her, keeping the tone of her voice neutral, professional.

How had she found her and more importantly, had she been looking? She called back to check on her parents from time to time. (Her parents had long agreed to keep her secret.) Had they told Santana where she was? No, she corrected herself when she remembered that not even her parents knew where she was. She only called them once in awhile to let them know that she was doing okay. Not great, not wonderful, but okay because a life without Santana had been just that - okay.

"A patient?" Santana echoed, knitting her eyebrows together in confusion.

She was unable to believe that Brittany was actually denying her. No, actually, she could believe that, so she played along.

"Yes," she corrected herself, clearing her throat. "A patient. Her name's Brittany Pierce. She's…the only person I've ever loved."

She recognized the 'deer caught in the headlights' look on her face and Santana immediately regretted what she had said, albeit true. The last thing she wanted was to send Brittany running for the hills again. She might not be so lucky in finding her the next time around. Much to her surprise, however, Brittany stayed exactly where she was, her face emotionless.

"Right Brittany Pierce," she said, pretending to look her up in the system. "I'm sorry, but there's no Brittany Pierce in our patient records."

"Brittany," Santana protested, extreme anxiety in her voice, but she paused, recollected herself, and clarified instead, "Are you sure?"

Brittany bit her lip at her question. She could see the desperation in her eyes, but after all these years, the Latina had no right to do this to her, to open up the wounds she had worked so hard to heal since she had left Lima, Ohio behind. Remembering the past brought a bitter taste to her mouth and she could feel her buried anger bubbling to the surface once more.

"Wait," the blonde said, tapping her index finger against her chin in thought. "I do remember a Brittany Pierce actually, but she was a patient here several years ago. I'm sorry to say Miss that Ms. Pierce is no longer with us."

By now, Santana was near tears. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so much.

"When was the last time you spoke with her?" Brittany questioned, unfazed by her many emotions (unlike she used to be). "I'm very sorry for your loss."

The Latina ignored her pointless question and pried, "What was the cause of her death?"

Brittany's bottom lip trembled as she answered her, letting out a shaky breath.

"A broken heart," she murmured, hoping that Santana would get the message and just leave.

"Brittany, please," Santana begged her then, unwilling to play the game anymore, not wanting to play the game anymore. "Can we talk?"

The blonde pursed her lips in consideration, but ultimately, her stubbornness won out.

"My name's Karin," she told her firmly. "Karin Wallach. Don't make me call security."

Santana opened her mouth to say something more, but changed her mind, acknowledging that she had overstayed her welcome. What had she expected? That Brittany would leap into her arms and shout "I missed you too!"? At least she was doing okay for herself, more than okay she would say. That for her should be enough, Santana lectured herself as she left the hospital. It should be enough.

(Yeah, it should be, except it wasn't.)