Author's Note: I'm pretty sure this chapter will come as no shock to anyone reading, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Some of you have been begging for some Puckleberry, and I'm pleased to announce there is a MINIMAL amount, though I doubt it will satiate ... anyone. Haha. A million thank yous to everyone who is reading and reviewing, and that includes those anonymous people who I cannot thank individually. All of you are awesome!

Rachel's back arched again, her head lowering back down to the oval-shaped opening of the toilet in her dressing room. Her knees dug deep into the hard surface of the bathroom floor as her stomach lurched, Rachel pressing her hands into the cool surface of the porcelain. She hadn't eaten anything since this morning and yet she gagged again, emptying the remaining contents of her stomach before slumping down to the floor for a few moments of repreive. She gingerly swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, breathing out heavily before prying herself back up to her feet.

"Did you throw up again?" Mercedes questioned impatiently, slowing to a stop right outside the open bathroom door.

"No," Rachel answered unconvincingly, stumbling past her friend toward the loveseat in her dressing room. She braced her arms on the soft furniture, lowering herself slowly and eventually lying down. Her eyes closed out of exhaustion, Rachel melting into the cushions with a sigh. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead, but her hands felt cold and clammy.

"You've been sick all week." Mercedes frowned. "You can't go on tonight."

"I'll be fine."

The words weren't out of her mouth for more than a few seconds before Kurt stormed into the dressing room, his phone pressed to his ear and his other hand full of all the outfits for Belle. Rachel's ears perked up in an attempt to hear who was talking on the other line, but then her eyes opened and she couldn't focus on anything else but the dresses in his hand. From the hemline alone she could tell they weren't her dresses, which meant they were already planning on letting Erin take over her character tonight.

Kurt hung up the phone and put up his hand in protest to her growing temper. "Save your breath, Diva. Blaine is on his way here to pick you up and Erin is already in makeup."

"You have no right …"

"I have every right," he countered. "As the best friend, it is within my rights to make decisions for you when yours suck." Kurt bobbed his head once. "Just check the contract."

Rachel groaned as Mercedes and Kurt started talking about her as if she weren't in the room, and she would have gotten up to defend herself if she wasn't afraid of hurling all over the two of them. She never got sick so this didn't make any sense, and the fact that she'd used her understudy so much recently just made it worse. After Blaine took her home, Rachel was going to bake an entire platter of 'I'm sorry' cookies for the director.

"Rest up, hun," Mercedes said sweetly before leaving. Curtain went up in an hour and she still hadn't gone to makeup or costume.

"And drink plenty of fluids," Kurt added.

"What else would I drink?" She asked bitterly, finally moving to a sitting position. Kurt shrugged his shoulders and left her dressing room, leaving Rachel approximately five minutes to gather her things and wait out front for Blaine. They were one of the few people in her circle of friends who actually owned a car, mostly because Blaine used to travel a lot for his work. Now it was almost a communal vehicle, tossed around between Finn, Rachel, Mercedes and some of Blaine's friends if anyone needed to go outside the city. Absently she wondered how long that would last if/when the adoption went through and a car seat was added to the back.

"Sick as a dog and still as beautiful as ever," Blaine said in way of greeting. Rachel blushed but rolled her eyes, opening the passenger side door and stepping into the car. She'd looked at the mirror in her dressing room before coming outside and knew she looked far from beautiful. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"You're more the carrier service," she joked lightly, leaning back heavily into the leather cushions and shutting her eyes. "But you're right. I'm sorry about my attitude. I'm very grateful."

"It's what friends are for," he answered casually, looking back behind his left shoulder before moving back into the moving traffic.

"It's in the contract. I heard."

Blaine laughed lightly, flicking a glance her way as they stopped at a red light. "Well then you probably already know about the none of my business clause." Rachel managed to lift an eyebrow in curiosity without opening her eyes. "Section twenty, paragraph three, line twelve." Her smile encouraged him to continue. "It states that friends can butt in to other friends' personal lives without consequence."

"Kurt didn't go over that one. Tell me more."

"Well," he cleared his throat nervously, "it, uh, occurs to me that it isn't exactly flu season." Rachel didn't say anything, so he was forced to continue. "And eventually – not to mention completely by accident and he still feels terrible so don't –"

"Spit it out, Blaine."

"Right, well, um … he told me about the fertility thing and …" Blaine trailed off, stopping at another red light and his eyes widening in response to Rachel's eyes opening and honing in on him. "What if you're pregnant?"

Her glare didn't falter, but Rachel felt her stomach fall like a brick. It landed somewhere on the floor of the car, which was a terrible spot for it because that just happened to be where she puked instantly when Blaine's words finally registered. He swerved the car in response and let out a little yelp that was so high-pitched that she wondered if only her and dogs heard it. She was humiliated and would have been apologetic if she wasn't inside her head doing feverish calculations and trying to recall a health lesson from more than ten years ago.

Blaine turned into a late-night car wash that also cleaned the inside, Rachel managing to pry herself out of her own brain to step in front of Blaine and hand the cashier her credit card. Blaine pointed to the convenience store that was attached to the business, leaving her by the window as she mindlessly watched the employees clean up after her mess. Well, the one she made in Blaine's car anyway. The mess she made of her life … she wasn't sure anyone could clean that up now.

"It says it's 99.9% accurate." She turned to her right, her eyes landing on the small rectangular box in Blaine's hand and stopping there. "I got you a tea, too."

Rachel inhaled a shaky breath, accepting the warm cup with her right hand while reaching out with her left for the pregnancy test. It was digital, which made no sense considering she knew she'd have to pee on the device. Absently she couldn't help but wonder if there was a possibility of being electrocuted. There was no warning or safety information detailing such, instead the prominent callout being the clear, fast results. Apparently a happy face indicated pregnancy; Rachel thought that was a bit presumptuous of the manufacturer, though she wasn't quite sure what her feelings would be once she found out. She was terrified, obviously, but that was more because she hadn't expected any of this.

"All set."

Blaine and Rachel got back into the car after Rachel tipped each employee who worked on the inside handsomely, her eyes never leaving the small box until they pulled up to her apartment. Blaine followed her up as he was ordered to do, waiting outside the bathroom door while Rachel followed the directions. He grabbed the metronome from the top of Rachel's piano in the living room and set it for sixty beats per minute as soon as she walked out of the bathroom. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, but he guessed it had more to do with her anxious behavior than the test results. After all, he wasn't the father.

The two friends shared a look after the allotted two minutes passed, Rachel nodding her head when Blaine made a motion to go look at the test for her. She held her breath for what felt like an eternity, her eyes carefully evaluating him when he stepped out of the bathroom holding the small stick. He had a small smile on his face and unlike the test results, she wasn't sure if him smiling was a good thing or a bad thing.

"You don't have the flu," he responded cheerily, pivoting the stick in his fingers so the display screen was facing Rachel. Her eyes narrowed to better read the results, widening when she saw the smiley face staring back at her. "Congratulations?"

She exhaled shakily, her hands flying up to her face as the tears started to fall. It was an odd emotion coursing through her, one that rested somewhere between elated and crushed. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was the sentence that kept repeating in her head, but its meaning tiptoed the line between good and bad. It wasn't supposed to happen because it shouldn't have been so easy for her to get pregnant. But it also wasn't supposed to happen because she wasn't ready to be pregnant.

"Where's your phone? I'll call the doctor."

"No!" Rachel shouted, the sound deafening considering how quiet she'd been since he'd picked her up. She hiccupped, wiping away some of her tears and looking at him desperately. "You can't."

"Rachel, you can't deliver the kid yourself," Blaine reasoned. "You shouldn't have shit where you eat."

She knew it was an expression, but that didn't stop her stomach from turning inside her. She dashed past him on the way to the bathroom, slamming the door shut to drown out the sound of her throwing up yet again. Blaine rolled his eyes and dug inside her purse for her phone. He found the OBGYN contact in her address book and followed all the automated messages in order to speak with the on-call doctor. It was just barely nine in the evening, so Blaine didn't feel too bad when an older, gruff voice came through the receiver asking how he could help. Instead, he explained the situation as calmly and clearly as he could, securing Rachel an appointment tomorrow at ten in the morning.

Rachel exited the bathroom apprehensively, standing by the frame in case she had to run back toward the toilet. She'd heard Blaine talking to the doctor, making a mental note of the time even if she still wanted to have a reason to not go. Or a reason better than her not being strong enough to face him yet. It wasn't that she'd hide it from him forever; she just wasn't sure how to tell him something like this when she hadn't even seen him in a month and hadn't really talked to him in two months. How could she tell him this when she couldn't even bring herself to tell him everything else he deserved to know?

"They're going to squeeze you in tomorrow at ten."

"Thank you." Rachel stepped away from the doorframe slowly, going back to sit on the edge of her bed next to Blaine. She placed her face in her hands again, only this time she wasn't crying as much as she was just exhausted. Her mind was moving a mile a minute and her body was still reeling from her alleged sickness. It was early yet but she already knew she wouldn't sleep tonight no matter how badly she needed to.

"Want me to stay?" He asked gently, his hand running up and down her back soothingly.

Rachel shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Just …" She closed her eyes tight, turning her head just a little to the left before opening them and looking at him. "Please don't tell Kurt. Not yet. I just … I can't … I need to deal with this first."

"I won't. I promise." Blaine understood, but he couldn't help but ask. "But, is this request specific to Kurt's tendency to turn a molehill into a mountain or because he happens to have certain family ties with a previous suitor?"

"The first," she answered softly, meeting his gaze. "I never slept with Finn."

Blaine nodded his head, accepting that answer since it was more than he deserved. "Well, that's good, right? No trip to Jerry Springer or Maury or whomever for a paternity test." She didn't even crack a smile. "Everything's going to be fine, Ray."

She nodded doubtfully, worry written all over her face. It wasn't the baby she was worried about. Rachel knew what she had to do there. She knew the choices that would have to be made and the sacrifices she'd have to make. She knew she could count on Blaine, Kurt and Mercedes to help her through everything. No, the baby stuff she could handle. It was the father that was causing her heart to race in anticipation – and only partially in the good way.

The two of them talked for a few more minutes, the conversation getting rather heavy before Kurt called to check up on Rachel. Blaine lied and said she was sleeping, letting himself out of the apartment while Rachel took a long, hot bath and then tried to go to bed. The whole time she thought about what her and Blaine had talked about, how this might not be the most conventional or best of circumstances, but perhaps it was an opportunity. She'd admittedly been upset since Puck severed all ties to her. Now there was tie between them that couldn't be broken.

But Rachel didn't want that to be the only string holding them together. She didn't want their child to be named 'Whoops' like Puck thought Sarah should have been. She didn't want to trap him with a pregnancy, and she knew a child was not enough of a reason for two people to be together. Rachel had plenty of other reasons she wanted to be with Puck, but he'd chose differently. Aside from that drunken night with the fight between him and Finn, Puck hadn't given Rachel any indication that he felt their separation was a mistake, and she refused to let their child be the reason he came back.

The next morning, after only an hour or two of sleep, Rachel freshened up as best she could. She ate some crackers like she saw women in movies and on television do, and it managed to stay down even though her stomach was already in knots. The air was heavy in her already constricting lungs as she walked from her apartment to the doctor's office, her breathing labored as she checked in and waited in the lobby. The nurse who called her name wasn't Santana, and she knew even before the older gentleman walked into the room that her file had been given to another doctor.

Rachel did her best to keep from crying as the doctor confirmed the pregnancy, mentally taking notes of everything he was saying even though all she could think about was how wrong Blaine had been. The only opportunity she got from this meeting was the reminder that Puck hadn't wanted to be in a relationship; and even though he'd made that painfully clear before it was downright obvious now. It was her fault for hoping otherwise, and after she'd talked to the doctor about the details of her pregnancy, she was headed to the checkout area with a handful of prenatal vitamins and a heart full of pain.

"Rachel?"

Her heart leapt into her throat, her feet forcing her body to turn around toward his voice. Her eyes closed for just a moment after landing on his form, unconsciously working to not well up with tears at just the sight of him. His white coat covered the intricacies of his frame, but Rachel knew them all too well. They were seared in her brain and she willed them away for just five minutes so she could talk to him without making a fool out of herself.

"Hello, Noah."

Her voice washed over him like the tide, soothing his rattling nerves with just those two simple words. His name never sounded better than coming off her tongue, and he'd missed it. He'd missed her, which he'd admit only to himself after her rejection the last time he'd said it. It was only a month ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

"H-how are you?" His eyes moved down to the bag in her hands, noticing she was holding it so tightly her knuckles were white. "Are you … OK?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm … fine." She nodded her head to make it seem more convincing. "How have you been?"

"Good." He watched her tongue swipe over her bottom lip, fixated on the pink muscle. "Great."

The desire to reach out and touch her was what was great. It wasn't just a want but a need, one that he knew had to be repressed for a lot of different reasons. For one, he was a doctor and she was a patient and they were standing in front of a receptionist who was watching their conversation like a tennis match. For another, he knew the second he laid his hands on her, he wouldn't stop. In fact, if there was ever evidence that one night with her wasn't enough, it was the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach right then when the two months of absolutely no contact hit him at once.

"And Sarah? Is she enjoying her summer?"

"Too much," he joked lightly, momentarily thinking of his sister - who would no doubt kill him if she knew he'd seen Rachel and didn't fix what he'd broken (as she put it). "In fact …"

"Ms. Berry!"

Rachel didn't turn when her name was called, instead willing Puck to finish whatever it was he was going to say. She'd only heard two words, but she could hear the promise in his tone, knew it was the beginning of an invitation. While she was still fairly certain it wasn't of the till death do us part variety, she could hear the nervousness and knew that it meant something. It wasn't casual.

Puck didn't get nervous. Noah did.

"The doctor asked me to give this to you." Rachel sighed, eventually turning to face the persistent nurse when Puck's attention, too, moved to the older woman. "If your morning sickness gets worse, this prescription will help."

Rachel nodded her head minutely, letting the small slip of paper fall into the bag holding her prenatal vitamins while her eyes slowly moved back to Puck. His stare was like fire, boring into her like liquid magma despite how hard his expression was. She clutched the bag tighter, her mouth opening to explain but closing when he took a noticeable step back.

"So, you're pregnant." He said the word at least once a day and yet it felt completely foreign in his throat. It was scratchy and he didn't like the taste it left. He liked it more than the brief visual of Rachel and Finn making a baby, though. Now he felt sick. "Guess there was nothin' to be worried about, huh?"

"Noah …"

Rachel choked on her inhale as she watched him take another step back, so far away now that she couldn't reach out and touch him even if she'd wanted to. And she did want to, at least she did before he'd transformed back to his more distant, guarded self. She again recalled the conversation she had with Blaine, about never regretting love. Blaine and Kurt's union wasn't exactly one of fairytales. It hadn't been love at first sight, and they weren't the type of couple who you envied because it seemed like they never fought or had to deal with anything bad. It would have been easier for Blaine to date someone from the agency or for Kurt to be with someone from the musical. But, instead, they'd made the choice to be together; it was a decision, something they had to work for, and it always seemed to keep them grounded enough to remember to be grateful for the opportunity.

Unfortunately, Rachel didn't have the same opportunity with Puck. They'd come together on the understanding that it wouldn't last forever, and he'd merely kept his end of the bargain. She couldn't blame him for what he'd done – though his methods weren't exactly humane – and she wasn't going to regret the time they'd spent together. She knew for a fact that she'd seen something special in Puck, and he'd in turn seen a piece of her that Rachel hadn't trusted anyone with ever before either. And, magically enough, those two sides had created a life against all the odds.

"Mazal Tov, I guess."

His words were rough, forced. She was familiar with this side, the one who kept everyone and everything at arm's length. Unfortunately, as he backed up a little more steadily in preparation for his exit, the distance between them emotionally was even more evident. She'd hoped that even if they couldn't go back to how things were before they might be able to move forward, but everything about him right then was telling her otherwise.

"Thanks," she mumbled loud enough that he could hear, his retreating form stopping for just a moment to turn back and look at her. He was further away than he'd been since the beginning of their conversation, and yet the color of his eyes and the emotion she saw swimming in them before he darted out of sight made him feel closer than ever. Slowly, she turned back to the receptionist and paid her co-pay, walking out of the office and back home thinking about her interaction with Puck. She knew what he assumed and knew she'd have to tell him the truth eventually, but for now – as crazy as it was – she only had one thought on her mind.

She hoped their son or daughter had his eyes.