WOW! You guys definitely wanted this chapter haha. I had an explosion of reviews, so thank you very much for that. Honestly, you guys don't know how much I appreciate you reading and reviewing. You're too awesome! I haven't had time to proof-read this chapter I'm afraid since I've not had a lot of time on my plate at all actually. There's bound to be multiple mistakes! I hope you can survive them though xD

The morning was slowly but surely creeping in the Hudson household. Sneaky beams of light were beginning to fiddle their way through the shutters and three quarters of an hour had already passed since Sam arrived. And also since Sam arrived, he had not moved - not once. He remained on the sofa; moping, groaning, occasionally sobbing.

It took some time but Finn finally managed to coax Sam into explaining to him fully why he was hear. It hadn't been hard to guess the obvious yet to get the actual facts had been difficult as Sam was just so utterly distraught. He just continued to stare at the ceiling, laying flat on his back as if he was desperately hoping to get something, anything out of it.

"I'm sorry, man…" Finn mumbled. It wasn't that he was unsure of what to say necessarily - he'd been in the same situation and he was aware that if it were him, he wouldn't have wanted anyone to say anything to him at all - but he wanted to say something. He wanted to let Sam know that he understood.

"Don't be…" Sam murmured, the usual chirpiness and happy-go-lucky tone to his voice no longer present. "I shouldn't have let her go. Why did I let her go?" he asked the question more to himself than anyone. Why had he let her go? The thought of the situation just screamed danger. He felt like slamming his head against the wall, just so that the impact would hurt and something would seem real.

"Hey, don't blame yourself." Finn abruptly dropped his caring, considerate friend façade and immediately turned offensively on Sam. "Do not think like that - this is not your fault. It's her's."

"What's wrong with me…?" Sam whispered, his breaths ragged and fatigued from crying. He was supposed to be a big boy. Why was he crying?

"Nothing is wrong with you, Sam!" Finn suddenly stood and walked over to where his friend was limply flung across the couch. He grabbed the blonde's arm and hoisted him up so that he was sitting straight. Sam remained nonplussed throughout the incident. "I know you feel alone and you want to isolate yourself right now but you can't. You have to know that I understand, Sam. We may not be the best of friends but I'm going to help you and you'll come out stronger. You hear me?"

In all honesty, Sam hadn't heard the majority of it; he'd been too busy drowning in his oceans of nightmares, the ones causing his head to reel and an unimaginable pain to occur in the pit of his stomach. Surely his marriage couldn't go down in flames because of one, petty argument, right? He sure as hell hoped so.

Still, he nodded absentmindedly, blinking slowly and tiredly as Finn began to instruct him on methods to pull himself back together again. He felt incapable of most of them.

"Did you see Rachel tonight?" he asked when Finn paused in a rare moment.

Finn kept his lips parted, watching the blonde cautiously as he considered his answer. "Well…" he murmured unsurely, averting his gaze. At first, this had just been Sam's way of distracting Finn as well as himself - he didn't want to talk about Quinn. But now, he was rather interested. He'd thought about it briefly before as Finn had remained at the reunion later than him.

"Did you talk to her?"

"I-… wait, are you trying to distract me?" Finn asked, his eyebrow quirking upwards and a familiar confused expression lingering on his face.

"No, of course not." Sam scoffed, shaking his head as if it was the most ridiculous observation ever made. The fact of the matter was that it was one hundred percent true yet Sam knew how simple his buddy could be. It wasn't difficult to push one past him.

"Oh." Finn's mouth curved the shape as he pronounced the word. "Well, actually… I did see her. She was looking at me this one time, like she wanted to come over and say something. But every time Jesse noticed us he'd start to be all flirty with her. Like, whispering sweet everythings in her ear and all that romantic stuff…"

"I think the term is sweet nothings, Finn."

"God, I'm such an idiot." the taller boy groaned, completely ignore Sam's remark. He fell on the sofa opposite to Sam's, bury his head in his head. "How could I have let her slip right through my fingers?" he murmured, his voice now muffled by his hands. It seemed to Sam that this was the first time of the night that he was conveying emotion. Previously, it was just Finn trying to somehow console him. Now, Sam recognised this situation as his turn to play counsellor.

"Don't beat yourself up, man…" he sighed, standing for the first time since arriving and strolling over to his friend. He lay a friendly hand on the taller man's back, sitting beside him and watching the air in front of him carefully.

"Says the guy who was just kicking himself in the guts for nothing…"

Sam chuckled lightly which was follow by a sniffle. For the first time, he felt as if the tears weren't going to come anymore. The pain was just a little less than before. Still there, of course, but just not as severe. "I know. But maybe I should have listened to you…"

Finn sighed with finality, taking his head out of his hands and falling back against the sofa tiredly. "I guess both of us need some sleep. You're welcome to stay as long as you want, okay? There's a spare room left over from when Kurt moved out a few years ago, just go up the stairs and it's the first door on your right."

Sam nodded, offering Finn and thankful glance. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate. I promise it won't be too long… it never is…"

He heard no response because Finn had already stumbled out of the room, half asleep and with a heavier heart than before.

Quinn awoke the next morning by the sound of her alarm bleeping obnoxiously. It was screaming 'wake up!' but she couldn't seem to comprehend.

"Ugh…" she groaned after about five minutes of attempting to ignore it. She had proven the task impossible and therefore resorted to shutting it off. Incapable of finding the snooze button, she turned it off completely. "What time is it…?" she murmured to herself, wiping some of the slobber that had drizzled from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes nearly burst out of her sockets when she saw the time in aluminous red lighting - it had just gone half past eight and she was expected at work for nine.

"Shit, shit, shit…" she mumbled to herself as she jumped out of bed. She found it difficult to do so though, as the throbbing pain that was occurring over her entire body seemed to numb her completely. It was agonising, the worst thing she'd ever felt.

"What happened last night…?" she asked rhetorically, glancing in various corners of the room for some kind of answer. The first thing she picked up on was the fact that she'd slept alone. "Sam?" she called. Usually, he drove her to work in the morning. They'd sold her car and kept his in order to benefit their financial status. "Sam?"

After deciding that he was probably in the bathroom or something, she began to dress hastily. She found a pair of slacks and a floral blouse in the closet and then accessorised with a blazer. With a sigh, she made her way to the bathroom.

Yet Sam wasn't there. She grunted in displeasure and annoyance. He never seemed to be around when she needed him. It took her a moment or two longer to get down the stairs as her head was still throbbing. Each simple she made seemed to be agony.

She then suddenly recalled that she had been how drinking last night. What on earth inspired you to take that smart move, Quinn? she asked herself, rhetorically and sarcastically. Grunting, she made her way to the kitchen; she needed some kind of medication to numb this unbearable thumping pain.

She found the kitchen oddly vacant. There was no sign of Sam or his regular regime. Usually by this time he would be preparing himself some sort of breakfast for heroes to help maintain his impeccable body. Yet the kitchen wasn't in it's usually orderly chaos - it was just chaos.

She notice flung items, even a broken cell phone that looked to have been thrown against the wall in some fit on anger. She felt her chest tighten with worry.

"Sam…?" she called one last time hopelessly. There was no answer, as she had expected. Her insides quivering, she glanced over to the kitchen counter where she realised a glass with two aspirin tablets beside it. She also noticed a piece of paper which seemed to have been written on.

Cautiously, she began to approach the strange gesture. She was rather certain she hadn't got it out. It was far too early for Puck to be about. She saw it up close for the first time and immediately distinguished Sam's shaky handwriting. The note seemed as if it had been written during some kind of rage as the paper was crumpled and the words scribbled quickly and almost unreadable.

'Quinn,

I knew you'd need this when you woke up. Don't bother calling. I'm staying out of that house for a while until you sort your head out.'

- Sam.'

She felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her entire body froze up, becoming ridged the moment she read this name. Her mouth curved the shape but she could make no sound.

I'm staying out of that house.

He couldn't be serious, could he? She tried to convince herself but she wasn't so sure.

Images and memories from the previous night came over her in an ocean, each moment worrying her even more deeply. She couldn't exactly recall everything well enough to recite it carefully and correctly - she had been extremely drunk after all - but she knew enough to realise that she was in a terrible position.

After a few shaky breaths, she set the note down. Her fingers were quivering as she filled the glass with water and downed it with the two aspirin tablets. She almost choked as she felt the pebble-like shapes slither down her throat. Perhaps it was the realistic feel to it. Sam being gone, that didn't seem real. She kept praying that this was some kind of nightmare that she was soon to wake up from.

She paced the kitchen multiple times, unable to comprehend why and how she had managed to act the way she had. She tried desperately to some how conjure up a theory in which she could go back in time and tell Puck no, she didn't want to go out. Because if she'd have been strong like she always said she was, then perhaps she wouldn't be in this mess.

All she knew was that Sam was gone and that was enough for her to break down. Still, she pushed it aside as she was conscious of the ticking clock. She would give it more thought once she had a clear head.

So she set off for work, laughing at herself, telling herself that Sam would be home by the time she got back. Because surely, this must have been a practical joke of Puck's that she was giggle about later. She wanted it to be. Her heart was yearning for it to be.

But she didn't think so. Not really.

By the time the clock hit twelve and it was time for her lunch break, Quinn was utterly fatigued. She felt like everyone was screeching at her. Her eyes were in agonising pain from the light peaking through the glass windows of the estate agents'. She wanted to go home and crawl into bed to find Sam beside her. He would then wrap his arms around her stomach and kiss her behind her ears, whispering sweet nothings and telling her that everything would be okay again when she woke up.

She knew she couldn't do that though. She had tried not to think about it, but she had. She had been pondering over the note that Sam had left constantly throughout the entire day. She tried to come up with a positive to it. She found none.

Still, she wasn't sure what he meant when he said 'for a while'. She told herself that he meant an hour or so. Perhaps he was taking a stroll or staying with his parents for the night. He'd been back soon and she'd have nothing to fret about. That didn't stop her constant internal pain though.

The best part of her day was knowing that she could go home and tend to him. She wanted to be the wife who cooked and cleaned for her husband, her husband that appreciated every element of her soul and being. Yet with him walking out, did that mean he didn't appreciate her? Or maybe it meant she hadn't appreciated him. She felt like screaming.

Just as she was preparing to depart from her desk, a shadow fell over her paperwork. Quirking an eyebrow, she glanced upwards to find her daughter, Beth, staring at her expectantly with a huge grin.

"Mom." she chuckled slightly. To begin with, Beth had been unsure of whether to use the phrase or not but now both of them were growing more comfortable with it. It had been a week or so since their last meeting but every time that they had been together, both of them had enjoyed each others company.

"Beth…" Quinn tried to seem somewhat happy. She barely knew her daughter but she loved her all the same, yet with circumstances like so occurring, she was finding it difficult within herself to act chirpy and upbeat.

Fortunately, Beth failed to pick up on this and continued to grin on through. "I know this is a bit unexpected but I figured it was your lunch break now. Maybe we could go somewhere?"

Quinn's lips parted slightly as she tried to conjure up what she wanted to say. Did she really feel like going out? No. Did she even feel like eating at all? Definitely not. But did she want to disappoint her daughter? Of course she didn't.

Beth was too quick though and realised Quinn's hesitation. "Oh… I'm sorry. I mean, if you don't want to, I guess that's fine. Maybe another time. I can call you or something and we could-"

"No, no. Beth, stop okay?" Quinn forced a smile, holding her palms up to halt her daughter's mindless rambling. "I've just got a lot of on my mind this morning but I'd love to go out with you."

"Oh." Beth giggled quietly. "Well… maybe you could tell me about it over lunch?" she suggested, her grin growing wider.

Somehow, Quinn managed to summon up a genuine smile. She fluttered her eyelids once or twice and then nodded. "Yeah… I'd like that a lot."

"So… he just left you a note? That was it?"

Quinn nodded whilst staring vacantly at her plate. She'd picked and played with her salad but nothing more than that. How could she eat with such troubles?

"Wow." Beth muttered, her voice aghast and disbelieving. "I am so sorry, mom."

Shrugging, Quinn's gaze finally flickered towards her daughter. They looked so alike it was uncanny. "It's okay… I just feel so ill and stupid…"

"Have you tried calling him yet?" Beth tried, a supportive smile flattering her face.

Quinn could feel her throat tightening. She'd done nothing; she was too afraid. She didn't want to upset him more than she already had and just thinking about it made her want to cry. But she wasn't going to, not in public. Crying was supposed to saved for when you were locked away in your room with no one to see.

"No." she finally managed to choke, shaking her head from side to side slowly. "I think he'll be back by the time I get home, though." she sighed, actually rather confident in her presumptions.

Beth nodded, smiling politely again. "I'm sure he will. You guys are so close from what I've seen. You'll work through this."

Quinn smiled gently in the direction of her daughter. All she could seem to think was 'why hadn't I been this wise at her age?' Clearly it was not a gene her nor Puck enjoyed.

Quinn sighed upon arriving home. She set her keys on the kitchen table and walked nervously throughout the house. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach; one that told her she wasn't alone.

"Sam?" she called as she wandered through the living room. "Sam?" again in the dining room, no answer. Trudging upstairs, she found the house completely empty.

Her whole body quivering with disappointment, she retreated to the bedroom. Collapsing on the bed, she closed her eyes and reflected. What had become of this marriage? Why had it all suddenly gone wrong? She was exhausted just thinking about it.

"Sam…" she whimpered, feeling the tears beginning to brim in her eyes. Now she was all alone. And she could cry.

Her tears were halted, though at the sound of an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Nope, just me."

Quinn shot up immediately from her lazed position and set eyes on Puck. "You!" she exclaimed furiously, pointing her finger in his direction. "What the hell is going on? Where's Sam?"

Puck shrugged, completely nonplussed and uncaring. "I don't know… probably gone to drown his sorrows in beer. That's what I'd usually do. Hey, speaking of beer-"

"No." Quinn spat immediately, snarling as she began to realise the harm he had done. "You stay away from me now. You keep your beer to yourself."

Puck held his palms up defensively. "Hey, I was just offering you a good time, MILF. You seemed to enjoy the liquor very much last night, so I figured you'd appreciate it. Geesh, chicks these days…"

"No! Don't you 'chick' me. And stop calling me 'MILF'. Okay?" she arose from the bed, sauntering towards him angrily. "This is your fault. You're the reason Sam is gone."

Puck scoffed as if it were the most ridiculous judgement he'd ever heard. "Oh, pal-ese. I saved your ass! You should have seen him, he was livid. And besides, you're the one who told him to go."

"What…?" Quinn breathed, her voice much quieter this time.

"Yeah. He was all angry and shit, throwing cell phones at walls and that kind of stuff. I told him he needed to calm down. Then he said he'd do whatever he liked in his house. I asked if you wanted him gone and you kicked him straight in the balls."

Quinn swallowed heavily, devouring Puck's words. "I wouldn't say that…" she tried to laugh it off as if she were certain it were untrue, tried to find some kind of proof from her vague remembrance. Yet nothing was valid, nothing was legit.

"Believe whatever you want," Puck shrugged, "but I saw what went on. You were hilarious on karaoke last night, by the way."

Snarling again, Quinn shook her head in disgust. "You're lucky I haven't kicked you out yet." she spat furiously before slamming the door in his face and locking it defiantly. "Stay out of my way until Sam comes back!" she screeched, the height of her own voice terrifying herself.

Then, she lumbered over to the bed and toppled onto the sheets, falling into a deep, long period of unstoppable tears. Her stomach was aching. She felt like puking.

And she did. Numerous times, actually. It was a good thing they had that en-suite.

I'm so sorry to end it on such a depressing note! This story will be ending in a few chapters though, I'm afraid to say. I've enjoyed it a lot! Anyway, if we could reach about 110 reviews I'll try and update ASAP? I know it's a lot to ask again but you guys really surprised last time, so here's hoping! Thank you so much for reading :3