Several weeks passed by and Puck was getting frustrated. Rachel was back but she was far from being herself. She was still walking around in those hooded sweatshirts that made her look tiny and the fact that she was barely eating didn't help either. He had eaten lunch with her every day since she'd been back and he'd never seen her bring more than a yogurt or a piece of fruit, which she usually ended up discarding most of anyway. It was a far cry from the balanced meals he knew she used to eat.

She was still pretty pale and didn't bother wearing makeup or doing her hair anymore, other than the simple ponytail she now wore daily. But the most disturbing thing was the bags under her eyes that he thought told the tale of many sleepless nights. He had initially written them off as being exhaustion from her busy program in New York, but she had been back at school on a normal schedule for two months now and the circles were more pronounced than ever.

She was acting differently too. She was quieter now, more withdrawn, and he had to fight to keep an active conversation with her. Whereas before she would use a hundred words when twelve would have sufficed, it was far more common these days for her to just smile and nod in response to something he said. The fight had gone out of her and he missed it. No one could call him on his shit like Rachel Berry could.

They were sitting in glee club after school one day, him and her and Quinn, who had taken to sitting with him and Rachel at lunch too. Something was up there, he knew, but neither girl was telling. They didn't seem to talk a whole lot either, just exist in each other's presences, and it confused the hell out of him. They weren't friends, never had been, and they weren't acting all girly around each other now, so he had no idea what was going on there.

Puck thought Mr. Schue had realized something was up with Rachel too, which wasn't hard to notice, because she still hadn't sung anything since she'd been back. She said she'd sing backup vocals, but every time they had a number where backups were needed she opened her mouth and lip synced all the words, but she wasn't singing. He could tell. When Rachel Berry sang, backup vocals or not, you knew it. And she wasn't.

When Schue pulled out new sheet music and cast a glance at Rachel, Puck knew the teacher was up to something.

"Ok," Schue said, handing the music to her. "I've got a few West Side Story numbers here and a few from Les Mis. Rachel, why don't you start with this one?"

"Oh, no, Mr. Schue, that's ok, I think Tina would sound splendid on that one," she said quietly.

"Rachel, it's ok, I think it'd sound amazing with you singing it," Tina said sincerely from the back row. Apparently everyone else had noticed her lack of singing as well.

"No, really, Tina, I insist," Rachel said.

"Ok, that's it!" Puck exploded. "What in the world is wrong with you?"

Rachel looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Cut the crap, Rachel," he seethed. "You've been acting weird since you got back. What's the deal?"

"Puck, stop it," Quinn said sharply.

"No! She disappears for months and doesn't even tell anyone and then comes back here and refuses to even sing anymore! And I think we all deserve to know why!" He knew he was yelling now, but part of him didn't care.

Rachel paled and Quinn put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Puck, not now," she hissed.

"No! Now is the perfect time! She looks like crap, she doesn't eat, she doesn't pay attention in classes anymore. Fuck, she's not even Rachel anymore. And no one's leaving here until she tells us why!"

"Damn it, Puck-"

"No! We deserve to know, Quinn, I-"

"I was pregnant," Rachel burst out.

And the room quieted then and Puck paled visibly and took a staggering step back. That was quite possibly the last thing he had expected to hear from her. The room was silent, no one was talking and they all looked visibly upset. Even Santana had blanched at the revelation.

"What?" Puck whispered.

"Now is not the time to discuss this," Quinn said, glaring at Puck. "Let's go outside."

Rachel shook her head, tears coursing down her cheeks. "No. He wanted to do this in front of everyone, so we're going to."

"I…I didn't know," he stuttered. "You never said…"

"Rachel," Mr. Schue interjected gently, "you don't have to talk about this here."

"It's ok, Mr., Schue," she sniffled. "He's right, I am different, and you guys do deserve to know why."

Quinn rubbed her back soothingly as Puck watched, still stunned, from across the room. "You don't have to," Quinn whispered.

"Yes, I do," Rachel whispered back. She glanced at Puck, still pale. "Maybe you should sit."

He took the seat next to her and tried not to cringe when Quinn glared at him and pulled the girl's desk closer to her, away from Puck.

"I found out a few weeks after the party," Rachel started softly. "I panicked. You didn't remember anything about that night and I just panicked. I didn't lie about everything, I really had gotten accepted to a music program in New York for the summer, but I knew I couldn't go. But I didn't want to tell my dads anything, so I left under the pretense of going to the program," she said mechanically, not looking at anyone.

"Did you even go to New York?" Kurt asked quietly.

She nodded slightly. "I made up a story about needing to live in an apartment and that housing wasn't provided by the program, but it was, for the students, anyway. But my dads trusted me, why shouldn't they? So they paid for an apartment and furniture and everything and they were never the wiser." She paused, taking a breath. "They were both busy the weekend I moved in so I didn't have to worry about it. And every time they wanted to visit I made up excuses about being too busy with school. I got a job and worked all the time, saving up all the money I could. I found an adoption agency that was going to handle everything after the baby was born. I thought I had it all figured out."

"What happened?" Mike asked softly.

"School ended and I was supposed to come back here for senior year. I told my dads that I had been invited to enroll at the academy for the remainder of my high school career and that I could stay in New York. They'd never have to know about the baby. They thought about it but said no. I told them I was staying anyway." She wiped away a stray tear. "I had saved all the money I could from my job and I was doing ok."

"You didn't go to school at all?" Schue asked. "Were you just not going to graduate?"

Rachel shrugged, staring at her hands. "I was going to get my GED later. I wasn't concerned about that."

"What did your dads say?" Tina asked.

"They were upset," Rachel confessed. "But I stopped answering their phone calls and text messages. I thought it would be easier that way. I thought they wouldn't be as disappointed in me this way. I didn't think they'd ever find out."

"How did they?" Finn asked.

"I was in my apartment one night and I had this horrible pain in my stomach. It didn't stop, it was like my insides were set on fire and being ripped out. I don't remember much about it. Just pain and blood and screaming. And then there were paramedics there and I honestly don't remember how they got in or how I left, but when I woke up again I was in the hospital and my dads were there," she said, wiping her eyes again. "They said since I was a minor the hospital notified them and they flew in."

"What happened?" Puck asked softly.

She held back a sob. "Miscarriage. The doctor told my dads that the placenta had started tearing away from the uterine wall, and had been for some time. It's not unheard of so late in a pregnancy. Usually they catch it on an ultrasound and can fix it surgically, but my doctor didn't catch it."

Puck knew he was crying and he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one. He could hear sniffling around the room and he could see Quinn beside Rachel, holding her hand and rubbing her back and trying to contain her own emotions.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered. "I sent you a million texts and called you a hundred times, even after I remembered. Why didn't you just tell me?"

She was openly sobbing now. "I couldn't. I saw you after you gave up your daughter, I saw how hard you took it. I didn't want to do that to you again. And you didn't remember for the longest time and by the time you did, everything was just so out of control. And then when I had the…when I lost it…" She sobbed. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

He felt more tears slip down his cheeks. "Rach-"

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, standing and bolting from the room before he'd finished. He started to stand but Quinn held up her hand.

"I'll go," she said quietly. "I'm gonna take her home."

After the girls had left, Puck had looked around the room. Everyone was in tears, some crying openly, like Tina and Kurt, some struggling to hold back their tears, like Mike and Santana. But everyone was affected and Puck didn't even bother wiping his tears from his cheeks.

Schue dismissed everyone for the day, wiping his own eyes discretely. He caught Puck on the way out. "If you need to talk…" he trailed off.

Puck shook his head slightly. "Thanks, Mr. Schue, I just…I just…" he shrugged helplessly.

The teacher clapped him gently on the back. "I know," he said quietly. "I know."

"What do I say to her?" Puck said, dropping gently into a chair. "Do I go to her? Give her space? I don't know what she needs right now."

Schue dropped into a chair next to him. "I don't know, Puck," he admitted. "I think you know Rachel better than anyone, so that's your call. Just look at it this way: think of how you're feeling right now, having just found this out. Then multiply that feeling times ten, at least, because that's how she's feeling, having dealt with it alone all those months."

Puck nodded silently.

"It's going to take time," Schue continued. "For both of you. This is not an easy thing and I think she's going to need someone. But it will probably take her time to see that, because she's been dealing with it alone for so long. So don't push her, but don't let her push you away either."

Puck nodded again. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."

Quinn had followed Rachel out of the choir room and they had gone directly to her car. She drove Rachel home and realized immediately that neither of her fathers was home. She followed Rachel upstairs and waited patiently while the girl washed her face and changed into some soft, comfortable looking pajamas.

"Thanks for sticking up for me back there," Rachel said softly.

Quinn looked up at her from her perch on the bed. "No problem. He shouldn't have done that."

Rachel shrugged, looking away. "Can't really blame him, though. He was just trying to help."

"He could have just asked!"

"He has," Rachel admitted. "Almost daily since I've been back. He's asked what's wrong with me, what happened, what he can do. And I blew him off every time, telling him I was fine, nothing was wrong. I guess I'm not as good an actress as I thought."

Quinn scooted over and Rachel sat beside her on the bed. "That's not true. It's just…you've looked so broken since you've been back. A shell of who you were when you left."

"I just don't care anymore," Rachel admitted. "I feel like everything just stopped. How is any of this important anymore, you know? School, singing, anything? My own body turned against me, dispelling something I had carried for months. It was so violent, so painful, so…wrong. How can anything else matter after something like that?"

"Do you think about it? What it would have been like or looked like?" Quinn asked in a strangled voice.

"All the time," Rachel replied softly. "They said since I was that far along they could tell me whether it was a boy or a girl but…I didn't want to know. It would only make things worse." She paused and looked at Quinn. "Do you ever think about it? About her?"

Quinn wiped away a few stray tears. "Almost every day," she confessed. "I know it's different and I know I did what was best for her, but I can't help wondering…what does she look like? Who does she look like? Will she act like me or him? Or her parents? Most days I'm ok and I know without a doubt I did the best thing, but some days…some days it's all I think about and I have to remind myself to breathe."

"Noah showed me the picture from the hospital nursery," Rachel said slowly. "She had your nose. His dark hair, and your nose and her eyes looked a little like you too."

"You think?" Quinn said tearfully.

"Hair color and eye color changes, but the shapes don't," Rachel said. "I think she probably still has your eyes and nose."

Quinn laughed tearfully. "I'm supposed to be comforting you."

Rachel shrugged morosely. "I'm not sure you can, to be honest. I'm just kind of…empty. Numb. How do you fix that?"

"It takes time," Quinn assured her.

"I'm not sure I want it to," Rachel said. "I don't want to feel the sadness and the pain and the loss. I don't want to feel anything. I'm content with the numbness."

"What do your dads say?"

"They want me to see a psychologist," Rachel admitted, crawling up to rest her head on her pillows. "That's why I came back to school. It wasn't an ultimatum, exactly, but Daddy said I wasn't functioning and they wanted me to see someone, so I figured if I came back, I wouldn't have to."

"Maybe it was too soon," Quinn mused.

"Maybe. I don't know. I guess I figured I could be just as empty there as at home, you know?"

"Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to see someone," Quinn suggested.

Rachel was about to respond when her phone rang. "Hi, Dad," she said quietly, answering it.

"Hi, honey, how are you feeling?"

"I'm ok, Dad."

"Ok. I just wanted to call and let you know that Daddy and I are having dinner with a friend tonight and won't be home until later."

"Ok."

"Do you want us to bring you anything, sweetheart?"

"No, Dad, I'm fine, thanks."

"Ok, sweetheart. We'll see you later then."

"Bye, Dad." She hung up the phone and looked at Quinn. "My dads aren't coming home until later," she explained.

Quinn nodded thoughtfully. "Want to watch a movie?"

Puck had no idea what he was thinking, calling Rachel's Daddy at the hospital and having him paged. He pretty much felt like he was going crazy and he almost hung up when her Daddy answered the phone.

"This is Dr. Berry, how can I help you?"

"Dr. Berry, hi, um, my name is Noah Puckerman and I'm calling about your daughter, Rachel."

"Rachel? What happened? Is she alright?" He could hear the panic in the man's voice.

"No, uh, I mean, yes, she's fine. I just really need to talk to you and your hus-uh, Rachel's other dad about her."

He could hear the other man breathe a sigh of relief. "May I ask what this is about?"

"The baby," Puck said quietly.

The line was silent for a moment and her father spoke again. "Well, her dad and I will both be home this evening if you'd like to stop by-"

"No," Puck cut him off. "I'd really like to speak with the two of you alone, if you don't mind. I'm worried about her," he added quietly.

"What did you have in mind, Noah?"

"I was thinking dinner," Puck said, and named a restaurant. "If you could make it I'd be really grateful."

"We'll be there," her Daddy agreed. "Does six work for you?"

"It does," Puck agreed. "Thank you, Dr. Berry. I'll see you there."

Which was how Puck found himself at a table in a nice restaurant waiting for Rachel Berry's two gay dads. He was pretty sure he was having a heart attack. Dads hated him, especially dads that knew he'd had sex with their daughters, and if Rachel's dads didn't know that yet, they would soon.

He was still sweating out his decision when two men approached the table together and he recognized one of Rachel's dads. He stood and shook their hands. They sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"You said on the phone you needed to talk about Rachel," Rachel's Daddy said slowly.

"Yes. She, uh, she's been really different since she's been back at school and we've all been worried about her," he said nervously.

"We've all?" her Dad echoed.

"Uh, the glee club, sir. I'm in New Directions with Rachel."

"You also showed up this summer to pick her up, am I correct?" Daddy said.

"Yes, sir. I didn't know she had left town, she hadn't said anything to anyone."

Her Dad sighed. "Yes, we gathered that."

"I thought it was because of me," Puck confessed nervously.

"Why would she have left because of you?"

Puck ducked his head. "You see, we had gone to a party together and we both had too much to drink. We slept together." He didn't dare look at her fathers yet. "I didn't remember that it was her and when I finally did remember, she was gone."

When he got the courage to look up, her Dad looked enraged but her Daddy just looked thoughtful. "It was you," he said.

Puck nodded, a little ashamed. "Yes, sir. I tried calling her but she would never answer my calls. I didn't know about the baby at all until recently, today, actually."

Her dads exchanged a look. "She told you?"

"Uh, yes, well, kind of. We were fighting, well, I was fighting, well, fighting's not really a good word. I was just trying to figure out what was going on with her, she's just been so different, and I was pushing her and she just kind of said it," Puck stammered.

"She just kind of said it," her Dad echoed doubtfully.

"Yes, sir. I never would have pushed if I had known, I swear. She's just been so…off lately. She doesn't eat, she doesn't pay attention in class anymore, she doesn't even sing anymore. I didn't know what else to do."

"And now?" her Daddy asked.

"Now?"

"Now that you know, what do you think now?"

Puck glanced down at his hands and was silent for a moment. "I have no idea," he said honestly. "I don't even know if she'll talk to me after today."

Her Dad took pity on him. "We've tried to get her to go to a psychologist before, but she chose to go back to school instead. Maybe if we ask her again." He looked at Puck, expecting some form of resistance.

Puck simply nodded. "That would probably be a good idea," he said. "I have no idea how to help her or even where to start. I have no idea what it was like for her, being all alone like that. I wish she'd told me."

Her Daddy chuckled. "I really should have known it was you. You looked so crushed when you came to pick her up and found out she'd left town and hadn't told you."

"She really didn't tell you it was me?" Puck asked.

"We didn't really talk about it," her Dad said slowly. "We were in a complete panic when we got the call from the hospital and they said the word 'miscarriage'. We were sure they had the wrong girl. But they had her driver's license and emergency contact card she carries in her purse, so we flew up to New York."

"She was devastated," Daddy continued. "She didn't even ask, we never even said the word, but she knew right away and she was so upset. And when we brought her home she was like a zombie, sleeping all the time, and then not sleeping at all, staying up late watching those damned infomercials on TV. We decided not to push her. We thought she'd come to us when she was ready to discuss it and we'd find out everything then."

"Obviously we were wrong," Dad murmured.

"Mr. Schue, our glee club teacher, said something about her dealing with it all alone for all those months and maybe not knowing how to lean on someone else now," Puck admitted. "I think maybe he's right."

"Could be," Daddy mused. "I think, either way, our best bet is to just be there for her, gently, no pushing," he looked pointedly at Puck, "and just let her know that we're here."

"And therapy," Dad chimed in. "We'll talk to her about therapy too."

Puck nodded. "Good. I'm glad. She needs…she just needs to be ok again."

Her Daddy looked at him kindly. "And how are you taking the whole thing?"

Puck glanced down again, ashamed. "I'm just so damn sorry this ever happened," he said quietly.

"Son," her Dad said gently, "it's no more your fault than hers. You are both consenting adults, and I trust that she consented?" Puck quickly shook his head yes. "Then the burden of blame is shared with you both. We're not going to arm ourselves with firearms and chase you from town. We're not that dramatic."

"But you just found out, today, correct? You must be shocked, at the very least," Daddy said.

"I'm kind of numb about the whole thing," he admitted. "It really hasn't sunk in that far yet. I'm just really worried about her."

Her dads shared a glance and he could tell there was some kind of communication going on there. Finally her Daddy spoke. "Why don't you come over to the house for dinner tomorrow night? She's comfortable at home, we've known about this since she's been back, maybe you can make some ground there."

"You're seriously not going to ban me from seeing her ever again?" Puck asked, confused.

Her Dad chuckled. "No, son. It's obvious you care about her, enough to confess all of your mistakes to us. And you've suffered a loss too. I have no doubt you would have been there for her if she had let you."

"In a heartbeat," he murmured.

"Well, then, we'll see you tomorrow for dinner. Five o'clock," Daddy said.

Rachel awoke to find herself in bed, under the blankets. She wasn't alone.

"You talk in your sleep," Quinn said in a bored tone, not moving her eyes from the TV.

Rachel stretched lazily. "Anything good?"

Quinn grinned. "My virgin ears were blushing."

Rachel snorted and whacked the girl with a pillow. "Oh please. I haven't had a good dream in months."

Quinn stilled. "You have nightmares?"

Rachel shrugged uncomfortably. "Sometimes."

"About what?"

Rachel rolled her eyes self consciously. "Babies. Babies crying and looking for me. Babies that look like me and Noah."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Your dads are home, by the way," Quinn said casually. "They came up to check on you, but you were sleeping."

"They do that a lot," Rachel said.

"They care about you. It's nice," Quinn said.

"Yeah. I know. I feel really bad for lying to them about everything, especially them finding out the way they did."

"I'm sure they understand."

"I hope so."

"They invited me to dinner tomorrow night," Quinn said with a giggle.

"Really? Hmm. Well, you should come."

Quinn grinned. "Oh, I can't, I have something to do. Some other time, maybe."

Rachel got the distinct impression that the former Cheerio captain wasn't telling her something but she let it go when Quinn announced she had to leave. Rachel walked her to the door, pausing for Quinn to say goodbye to her fathers and exchange a secretive smile, and then headed back to bed.

Rachel thought, somehow, she was better off not even asking.