The sound of Rachel's star studded pen clicking against her binder reverberated throughout the empty choir room. It was fifth period, her and Quinn's lunch period, and she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't waiting for the withdrawn blonde. The day prior Rachel had finally reached out to Quinn. They had made leaps and bounds towards speech. Today she planned on continuing her aid only if Quinn decided to make an appearance.

Right on cue, Quinn opened the door timidly, pushing it slightly with her free hand as the other clutched onto her books and the device the principal had given her to use to communicate. As the door shut quietly and Quinn laid her eyes on the eager and nervous brunette, her grip on the machine tightened and her body visibly stiffened.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel said softly as she got up from her perch to approach the blonde.

A small shy smile, one so foreign on the once confident face, formed as Quinn avoided Rachel's eyes. It was quite adorable.

"Well," she cleared her throat and scanned the room.

Quickly, she went over to the instrument closet and pulled out the guitar that Quinn had smashed a week prior.

-/-

"Please?" she begged, the Rachel Berry pout and puppy eyes in full effect.

He rolled his eyes and slammed his locker.

"Dude, she broke my guitar. Do you know how much money I spent to get that thing? A lot. I couldn't buy dip OR numchucks for like three months," Puck recalled as they walked down the hallway.

Rachel linked her arm with his and batted her eyelashes, her hand curling around his toned biceps.

"Don't do that, Rach. You know I hate it when you look at me like that."

She sighed before pulling him into the nearest classroom.

"Listen, Noah, this is actually more serious than you think. I know that everyone has stopped trying to help Quinn, but yesterday when I went to do a few of my vocal exercises during lunch to keep my voice conditioned, she was in there. I saw your guitar in pieces and she-she was crying and I- she was trying to sing, Noah. She wants to try again. I can see it. She almost spoke but I just- please just try and fix it, okay? I know you don't care about her I ju-,"

"I do care about her," he said softly as he leaned up against a vacant desk.

His eyes were downcast, hands bunched into fists. Rachel stared at the boy kicking herself for saying that. Of course he cared about her how could he not? The two had had a baby together after all. As Quinn and Finn's relationship deteriorated, the brunette had noticed how Puck gazed longingly at Quinn probably dreaming of raising the child in her womb. But even when the doomed relationship had ended, Quinn didn't choose Puck. She never chose Puck, and now here he was alone and daughterless.

Rachel sighed before placing her arm gently around Puck's broad shoulders. She heard him release a shaky breath.

"Has she spoken to you?" he asked as his hand snaked around Rachel's waist.

"No."

"I just don't get it," he said suddenly exasperated. "Beth was my baby too. I mean, I fucking miss her so much sometimes, and it hurts like hell, but I didn't shut down. I still talk and laugh and fucking live. Quinn isn't living and I don't know how to fix her, Rachel. She won't let anybody fix her."

He was pacing now, furious because everybody had branded him the villain when Quinn got pregnant. No one cared enough to see how he was doing after the adoption He had endured and mourned the loss of his daughter privately.

Rachel cautiously walked over pulled Puck into a tight hug, her hand gently rubbing his back.

"I know," she murmured into his soft grey T-shirt.

They remained there, wrapped in each other's arms until the harsh and strident warning bell interrupted them. As they pulled apart, Rachel gave him a reassuring smile.

"I need to get to class," she announce, but he took her hand quickly.

Puck returned the smile and sighed.

"I guess I'll fix the guitar," he grumbled jokingly.

Her smile brightened as she jumped up quickly before tackling him with another hug.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she squealed.

-/-
Rachel carefully picked up the newly repaired instrument and walked backed over to the blonde.

"With some intense begging, I was able to convince Noah to fix this for you, in case you wanted to play it. I actually was unaware of your ability to play guitar. I'd love to hear it sometime."

Quinn was staring at the energetic girl with wide eyes, unable to respond to her happiness. As her eyes wandered to the guitar, her fingers began to itch to play it. Amused, Rachel watched as Quinn bit her lip and continued to tightly hold her belongings. Finally, Quinn surrendered, placing her things down on top on top of the piano, and gingerly approached Rachel.

Quinn took the guitar and cradled it naturally, but her body was shaking slightly. Rachel could hear her shallow breathing become a bit heavier.

"You can play it, if you want to. Just remember what we did last time. Breathe, Quinn. If you want I could turn around?"

Quinn was quiet for a while. Rachel began to bite her nails. Releasing a sigh, she shook her head and walked back to the piano, grabbing the computer and swiftly typing out a message before handing over the computer.

Please don't leave.

Rachel looked up and saw Quinn's eyes for the first time that day. They were begging her to stay. Her heart wrenched, willing herself not to make this a big deal, and simply nodded.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Quinn smiled, her lower lip curled upwards, as she held the guitar a bit more confidently. Rachel sat down at the piano bench. Quinn stood with the guitar hung around her broad shoulders. The nervousness returned but at a much lower intensity.

Rachel nodded, taking in a deep breath comically while holding onto her stomach to show the blonde that it was okay, that she should breathe. She mimicked Rachel sans humor and closed her eyes. Enamored, Rachel gazed as Quinn's fingers began their movements from string to string, chord to chord. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, a light pink spread along her porcelain cheek, and she continued playing for a little while. Though she never opened her mouth, Quinn was speaking to Rachel through those chords, through that guitar, through music. And Rachel was hanging on her every word.

After a few minutes, the music began to slow and Quinn strummed her last chord with a small smile gracing her lips. Her head lifted, eyes now open, and looked to Rachel whose jaw was currently to the floor in shock. How did she not know that Quinn played the guitar?

Quinn gave her a questioning look as her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. It was as if she were asking for approval.

"Quinn," Rachel tried to begin. "I-you that was I mean I didn't even know and then-,"

The sound of Quinn's laughter immediately cut off the fumbling brunette. Quinn clutched her stomach as a few giggles escaped her mouth. Rachel was blushing, and her cheeks were warm with the evidence of embarrassment; but Quinn's laughter diffused her humiliation, and soon she too was laughing at her incoherence.

Suddenly, Quinn quickly grabbed the computer from on top of the glossy baby grand. She cautiously handed it over to Rachel, their eyes locked in a gaze. Quinn looked down at the machine and then back up at Rachel.

Rachel took the computer from her hands. Quinn peered over her shoulder, but before she could see it, Rachel turned away with a teasing grin. It was a short message, but she had to start somewhere. Rachel took Quinn's hand nervously and with the other gave her the machine.

That was beautiful, Quinn.