Rachel's POV

We were all stuck in the waiting room of the maternity ward waiting, an activity that people usually engaged in so called waiting rooms. At first I was swayed by the thought of the agents waiting in the auditorium to hear me sing. When I realized that without Quinn we'd be disqualified anyway, and that I probably wouldn't feel like singing in front of hundreds of people if I were in labor, I relented. Also, because Mr. Schuster yelled at me.

So, Glee was officially over. When Mr. Schuster got around to getting the news to Figgins, it wouldn't take him two seconds to open the doors to Alcoholics Anonymous. The one thing that was good in life, the one thing that I always had to look forward to, was gone in the blink of an eye. But just like that, something… someone new was arriving. Quinn still hadn't decided if she wanted to keep her yet, but after our conversation the night before, it wouldn't have surprised me if she did.

Kurt was camped out by the nurses station, pestering them for information every five seconds. Only family had been allowed in the delivery room, so Noah had taken that right, as the real father of the baby. The rest of us were stranded here. To tell the truth (although I wouldn't admit this out loud, ever, to anyone,) I was more worried about Noah in there than I was about Quinn. Quinn was tough. I mean, look what she'd been through already! Noah pretended to be tough, but if you knew him, really knew him, you'd know that he wasn't tough at all. He was the most vulnerable one out of all of us.

Turns out, I was rightfully concerned.

After about three hours of waiting, two male nurses emerged from Quinn's room, carrying on a stretcher none other than Noah Puckerman.

"Who's here with Quinn FaBray?" one of them addressed the room.

Every single one of us stood up.

"Well," the same nurse said, "the father fainted when she got to six centimeters."

Mercedes snorted.

"…So she needs someone in there with her."

Instantaneously, I found myself raising my hand. I'm not sure why… I was probably the furthest thing from family Quinn had in that whole waiting room. But it just felt… right. Dad and Daddy smiled at me from their seats.

"Okay…" the nurse said, "you…" he pointed at me, "and you." He motioned to Kurt, who was jumping up and down, waving his hand in the air like a smarty-pants kid who knew the answer to an unanswerable question.

Great.

Another nurse gave us ugly blue hospital gowns to dress in, and led us into Quinn's delivery room. Kurt made his way in front of the bed to her right side, so I took the left.

"How're you doing, Quinn?" I asked gently.

She grunted in response. "Ouch…"

"You're doing great, Quinn." Kurt squeezed her hand tightly in both of his. "Just keep breathing."

I uncertainly did the same. I wasn't sure if she'd want to hold my hand- she seemed comfortable enough with Kurt- but she grasped it so hard that it turned white. I guess it doesn't matter whose hand you're holding when you're pushing a small human out of you.

"Good job, Quinn," I said calmly, trying to mimic Kurt's relaxing tone. She was hit by another contraction, which Kurt talked her through. I just sat there, holding her hand, feeling useless. When she fell back into the bed, breathing heavily, I glanced at Kurt over her. He was looking at me.

"I'm sorry," the words poured out of my mouth, surprising even me, "I'm sorry about telling Jacob about you and Finn. I was jealous, and it was a stupid, stupid thing to do. I'm really sorry."

He smiled at me. Maybe because he actually forgave me, or maybe because he just didn't want to start yelling at me over Quinn.

"You and Finn are good together," I said, as a final peace offering. It was the best I could do. After all, it did still hurt whenever I though about it.

"Thanks, Rachel. That means a lot to…"

"GUYS!" Quinn screamed from under us. She gripped my hand so hard I swear I heard my bones cracking.

"Shhh…" I said, soothingly brushing her sweat-soaked bangs back from her forehead. "Breathe. Just keep breathing."

A nurse came to check her dilation. "Nine centimeters," she informed us, "I'll go get Dr. Hardly."

She left the room and Kurt met my eyes again. "Hardly what?" we said at the same time, cracking up.

"WILL YOU GUYS JUST SHUT UP? I'M HAVING A BABY HERE!" Quinn yelled.

"Sorry," I muttered.

Over her screams and cries, I chuckled. "You've got a strong voice, Quinn. You should use it more in Glee Club." Then I remembered that there was no more Glee Club.

She obliviously laughed back. "Thanks." Five seconds later, another contraction hit her, and this time I actually did hear bones cracking. Only they weren't mine.

"Geez, Quinn!" Kurt yelped from the other side of the room. He withdrew his hand, shoving it in between his knees and biting his bottom lip to stop from crying. But then Quinn screeched again, and, like a true hero, he held out his other hand.

A tall, black haired man in a doctor's coat came into the room, smiling cheerfully. I wanted to shout at him 'Why are you smiling? Can't you see she's in pain?' But then again, I didn't want to distract him from Quinn. He checked her again.

"Quinn, is it?" he didn't wait for an answer. "Well, Quinn, it looks like you're at ten centimeters. You're ready to go!" he knelt down in front of her and addressed Kurt and I.

"Just keep telling her to push. Don't stop, okay?"

We both nodded.

"Okay Quinn," he said in that super-calm voice that only obstetricians can posses. "Start pushing, okay? It's time for your baby to come out!"

"Okay," she said breathlessly. She gave a tremendous push that lasted for ten seconds. She collapsed back onto her pillows.

"Keep going, Quinn. Keep pushing!" Kurt and I encouraged. When I looked up at the door, I saw the whole Glee Club gathered outside the window, peering in and cheering her on.

"Just keep pushing!"

She did, for fifteen minutes, until her face was beet red and her hospital gown was drenched in sweat. Kurt and I sat beside her and cheered like insane people, not caring what anyone else thought.

Everyone always says that a baby being born is the greatest miracle of all, but I never believed them. That was probably because I'd never seen a baby being born before. It really is a miracle. After another twenty minutes of pushing and cheering and pushing and more cheering, the unmistakable sound of a newborn's cry echoed off the walls of the delivery room. It was the most beautiful sound I'd heard in my whole life. Dr. Hardly scooped up Quinn's baby girl, cut the cord, and handed her off to one of the nurses to be cleaned. Much to Kurt's relief, she let our hands drop to the bed.

Ten seconds later, a nurse came over and handed the baby back to Quinn. She clutched her daughter to her chest with one arm, brushing her matted black hair off of her forehead with the other, and laughing. I couldn't see how she could be laughing after all that, but she was.

"She's perfect," she murmured.

"She is," Kurt seconded.

"Absolutely perfect," I regarded the screaming, crying little girl, with Noah's big brown eyes and Quinn's high cheekbones.

One of the nurses opened the door to get more baby blankets, and the all of the people waiting outside the door shoved past and poured into the room, crowding the bed. Noah came to the front, crouching beside me. There were tears pouring from his eyes, and he wasn't even trying to hide it.

In the background, Dr. Hardly was talking about how she'd been born two months premature, and that was normal, but she was still very delicate.

No one was listening.

"Look," Quinn couldn't take her eyes off of her daughter. "No Mohawk!"

We all laughed. And for a second… just for a second, it didn't matter that Glee had been cancelled. It didn't matter that we'd missed the competition. All of the bad things fell away, and we were left with a beautiful baby girl. Yes, Quinn was her mother, and Noah was her father, but the truth was, she belonged to all of us. We all loved her.

Every single one of us.

"She'll be a good singer," Mr. Schuster commented from the back of the room, over the baby's screams.

We all laughed again. For once, everything was perfect. We were together, and nothing could change that. Nothing in the world.

"Um… guys?" Kurt winced from his chair beside the bed. "I think my hand is broken."

We laughed, again.

"It's not funny! It hurts!"

By that time, everyone was cracking up, even Kurt.

It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off of all of us. Problems had been cast to the wind. All of the irrelevant facts had been stripped away. We'd been left with the bare minimum: love.