Sorry for the delay. So much stuff is going on, but I hope to update more frequently. Enjoy and review! Xx

Quinn's POV:

I quickly make my way back into my apartment. The lights are off and I close the door behind me, softly. I lean back on the door and close my eyes.

Noah Puckerman, is all that is on my mind. He still makes me forget who I am, and I was so close to ending up in his bed tonight. I can't let that happen, again.

I changed, remember? I'm supposed to be this 'New Quinn Fabray'.

And I'm going to stay that way, I'm finally getting back on track. I'm not going to let him do this to me again, swoop back into my life and ruin it. But everything is telling me to go back to him, but I can't handle it, him. He just came back into my life, again. He always does this. Always comes back and expects everything to go to the way it was.

Puck's POV:

And there I go again. I screwed up, what am I saying? I am a fucking screw up. I see her enter her apartment, and I'm just standing there.

She has a fucking boyfriend! She's living with her fucking boyfriend! And I just kissed her, multiple times, and I was definitely planning on doing more than that.

I open the door to my apartment, but before I go inside, I place my ear on my neighbor's door. Yeah, so what if I'm nosy, I just want to make sure Quinn's ok. I haven't made her life any simpler, just harder, and she doesn't deserve that.

I didn't hear anything so I head in my apartment, put my guitar down, close the door, pull of my shirt before jumping into the bed. I can't contain my anger anymore. I shove my face in my pillow and I yell. Muffled sounds come out and they finally die down after like two minutes.

I roll over in my bed, and just think of what could've been. I feel my eyes start to close and I drift off to sleep.

I'm back on base and we just got a call to go up because of an incoming attack. We get in our aircrafts and head off.

"4099 is up and ready to attack," I call into command. "Just say the word."

"Hold your fire," the chief replies.

The oncoming jets are get closer.

"It's now or never!" I yell over the radio. I have to do something. I'm a sitting duck.

"I said, hold your fire!"

All of a sudden, I'm all alone. No backup or anything. The jets keep moving in. It's three to one. I'm outnumbered, no where to go, 30,000 feet in the sky. It's over.

The first shots rang out.

I shoot up in my bed. My heart's racing, sweat covering my body, eyes wide and alert. I look around trying to find my sense of reality. All of a sudden, I can't breathe. My room is suffocating me. I throw on a tank top and I ran out the door in the next couple of seconds, or at least I tried to.

Standing in front of me was Quinn, her hand raised as if she were about to knock on my door, her expression shocked. I just start breathing heavier.

"Puck-"

"I-I-I'm sorry." I say between breathes pushing my way past her and breaking into a run trying to get to the fresh air quicker.

I burst out the lobby door laboring breaths. It's 40 degrees outside, but I could only feel my chest constricting even more. I hunch over hoping that it would relieve the pressure.

Suddenly, I feel a feminine hand on my back and I can feel release.

"Puck," I hear her say. "Puck, it's ok. I'm here, it's going to be ok."

"No, Quinn! It's not ok! It's never going to be ok." I'm not sure exactly what I'm talking about, the PTSD or our relationship, but I can't process what's going through my mind.

"Hey, come back inside, let's talk through this." she says trying to get me to make eye contact in order for me to calm down.

"You've already made everything perfectly clear, Q. You have a perfect life, a perfect boyfriend. You don't need me, and I don't need to be here to screw everything up."

"Puck, just let me help ok? I can make it better. Please, just let me help you." she says, the irritation just barely reaching her voice.

"I don't want your fucking help. I'm fine, just let me be fine. God, Quinn, just stay away from me." I say breathing harder than I was before.

"Stay away from you?" she laughs. "Remember when it was 'Just tell me to stay' and then you didn't. You left. You're the one who left, Puck" the iciness fills her voice. "Stay, was our thing Puck-"

"Was? was? What ever happened to is? I knew you didn't care about me anymore. It's like the whole world revolves around you. I guess that hasn't changed. I'm done chasing you around like I have for the past ten years. And I'm tired, and it physically hurts, Quinn." Tears are welling in her eyes as I continue. "I'm screaming at you at the top of my lungs, I can't breathe when I'm near you, you make my heart stop beating. I'm so in love with you it hurts. But I can't hold that over me forever, you've moved on. I need to do the same. I can't love you forever."

"Puck-"

"No, I'm fucking done," I back away from her.

"Puck, don't do this. You don't have to do this," she croaks. I continue to back away. "Don't do this, please don't do this. Puck! God, I-I-I hate you!" I stop for a second, "You're a Lima Loser, Noah Puckerman, and you're always going to be a Lima Loser." She cries with pure anger in her eyes.

"Have a nice life, Q, I'll see you around." I say with a maniacal laugh, as I turn my back to her and break into a run, going who-knows-where in the New York night.

I hear the soft crying fade away, and when it's gone, I know that she is too.

Next stop, the nearest bar. To take the pain away.

Some things really don't change, and I realize this the next morning when I am as hungover as hell and in an unfamiliar bed, naked with some chick I guess I picked up last night. Since that didn't change, I guess the infamous Puckerman one-night stands wouldn't either. So I quietly gather my scattered belongings and make my way out of the loft into the light of day.