"We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger." ~Tad Williams

I wake up stiff, sore from the hard bed beneath me, and pressed against a body I don't remember falling asleep with. His fingers grip me tightly as I hear the gentle snores escaping his lips. I uncurl his hand, dropping it into the empty space, and trudge out into the kitchen. Santana is in front of the stove, her hair twisted into a bun, as she dances in front of a pan.

"Why is there a boy in my bed?" I question groggily as I plop down at the counter, my head resting against the cool granite countertop. Santana sets a mug of coffee in front of me, her eyes studying my face for a moment.

"Because letting him into the apartment was better than listening to him bang on the door at three o'clock in the morning." She lets out a small scoff as if I knew better than to ask before shuffling the food onto a plate and setting it in front of me. "Eat."

I take a small bite of the hashbrowns, my eyes watching as Santana flits around the kitchen most likely preparing breakfast for herself. "Was he drunk?" I question hesitantly. She freezes for a moment in front of the sink before shaking her head.

"No, just upset and looking for you." She lets out this small hum like there is more that she wants to say but is biting her tongue. I watch her use a spatula to flip her egg in the pan and can't help notice the way her eyes keep twitching between my face, the coffee mug, and the pan in front of her. "You're not drinking your coffee?" She questions.

I know what she's doing and can't help but smile at her as I pick the mug up and take a drink. "Nice try," I reply as I set the mug down next to my plate before shoving another fork full of food into my mouth.

"Can't blame me," she teases her eyes widening for a moment before diverting back to the pan in front of her, "morning Puck." My back tenses a bit and I hear a small grunt escape his lips as he pulls out the stool next to me and plops into it.

The kitchen is silent, Santana standing still as she prods at her food with her spatula. It's more tense than you would expect, considering the fact that Noah and I shared a bed the night before. "Mornin' Rach." He swipes at my coffee cup, bringing it up to his lips to take a big gulp as his eyes study my face.

"Morning," I reply tightly, shoving another bite of food into my mouth as I scan the kitchen cupboards around me, my eyes resting on Santana's patented not interested façade; secretly she's listening. My fork scrapes gently against the edge of the plate and I look at a wadded section of yesterday's newspaper.

"Are you going to ignore me much longer?" Noah sighs, his arms resting against the counter as he rests his head against his palms, "Because I kind of don't like it."

"I don't know," I reply as I drop my fork onto my plate, "are you going to call me a bitch again because I really don't like it." The legs of my stool scrape against the tile and I find myself heading back into the bedroom. I'm not having this conversation with Santana standing next to the the two of us, watching like a hawk.

I hear the click of the door behind me and turn around to see Noah still holding my coffee in his hands. He takes another drink of it and I can't help but notice the bags under his eyes; he looks as exhausted as I feel. I find myself sitting on the edge of the bed, my hands bracing against the mattress. Noah stands next to the door, his body resting against the jamb.

"We either have a proper conversation or this doesn't happen." I say sternly. "No yelling, no cursing. Do you think you can manage that?" He nods his head in agreement, his eyes lingering for a moment on my stomach. I can see the flicker of emotion in his gaze as he meets my eyes.

"I know that nothing I can say will explain away my behavior the other day," his words are quiet and his gaze is steady as it meets mine. "But you have to understand that, for me, it was like fucking sophomore year all over again, Rachel." Noah clears his throat and moves closer, setting on the bed near me. He moves one of his hands over the top of one of mine, it's shaking a bit.

"I was already in a piss" he prevents himself from cursing, his eyes rolling before he continues," bad mood when I found the bag. I was hoping that you were planning on telling me about it, that you weren't trying to fuc- hide it." He stops for a minute and I can tell by the slouch of his shoulders and the way his head hangs that he is thinking about Beth. It's a posture that I have become familiar with through the years of living and being with Noah. He looks defeated.

"But you ignored my texts and calls. I knew that you were in rehearsal but you've always had time to respond back. Immediately, I thought you were ignoring me." His voice halters for a moment, his posture tensing. I think of all the things he's told me through the years, the way Quinn berated him and put him down when she found out she was pregnant and I feel guilty.

"When Brittany woke up she could tell something was wrong. At first, when I showed her the test she got really excited. But then I think she realized that I was upset and that got her upset. The next thing I knew we were both so fuc- pissed that we were storming in on your rehearsal."

I hear the doorbell and Santana's curse, there is muffled talking from the living room but the room I'm in is completely silent. "When I confronted you, I could see how surprised and uncomfortable you were." Noah mutters. "It made me feel like you didn't want people to know that you were with me, that we could possibly be having a baby together."

I let his words sink in; absorbing everything he is saying and not saying. I understand his trigger reaction to be upset, with everything he's gone through it makes sense to me that he would feel that way. What I don't understand, though, is the reason that he would think, let alone feel, that I would do something so horrible and heinous.

"Noah," I whisper as my eyes fill with tears, "the day I bought that test I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I sat on the subway, my body twitching with anticipation. I couldn't wait to get home and take it." His hand squeezes mine and I look up at him, letting the tears fall. "When I got home, Brittany was sitting in front of our door and I immediately went into crisis mode and forgot all about it. I wasn't hiding anything from you, I wouldn't do that."

I let the words settle in the air around us before continuing. "The thing I'm most disappointed about, though, is the fact that instead of talking to me about your fears and insecurities you attacked me in front of my coworkers. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How that made me look?" I sag into the bed a bit, my legs curling up beside me as I turn to face him. One of his hands sits on the bed between us; the other rubs the back of his neck.

"This," I gesture between the two of us with my hand, "is never going to work if we continue on the path we are on. I can't take all the fighting and accusations, I can't take the mistrust. If we're fighting over something as sacred as a pregnancy test where do we draw the line?"

I can see the wheels turning in his head but before he gets a chance to respond there is a knock at the door. Santana cracks it open her eyes taking in the two of us on the bed before she clears her throat. "Rachel, there is someone in the living room to see you?" She sounds aggravated and a bit confused which only seems to confuse me. I hop off the bed and trek down the hallway, stopping short at Finn sitting on the couch. He has a small plastic wand gripped in his hand and he looks and smells like he came from a bar.

"CONGRATULATIONS," he shouts, his speech slurred. I can hear Noah and Santana as they move down the hallway and into the room but my eyes are glued on the man in front of me. He waves the stick around, his eyes glassy and red. "It's what you wanted, Rachel, right?"

He drops the item on the floor between us, his body slumping back against the cushions of the couch as he continues to babble. My eyes dart between the test, Noah, Finn, and the look on Santana's face. "I always knew you would be the one to break me," Finn mutters and I find myself standing frozen in place.

"Shut up, Finn." Santana roars. I can hear the warning in her voice each syllable filled with venom. I whip around to look at Noah who is looking between the test, Finn, and I his mouth set in a firm line.

"What the fuck is going on?" Noah questions. He walks past me to pick up the test, his eyes settling on the two pink lines as he looks between an intoxicated Finn and me. "And why the fuck does Hudson have this?"

"I can explain," I reply, my hands in the air between us as I walk towards him slowly. "I can explain everything. Why don't we leave Santana here with Finn while we go in the back room and finish our discussion."

Before he can get a word in, I wrap my hand around his arm and tug him through the hallway throwing a glance at Santana as I pass her. It's with her subtle nod that I know she has my back. I tug Noah into the guest bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me before pushing him towards the bed. "You may want to sit down for this."

I tell him everything. I explain about meeting for coffee, Finn's confession of love, and my response. I tell him about Finn and Tina, about Finn's love for Quinn, about how he is feeling lonely. He sits silently, the small piece of plastic clenched between his fist as his nostrils flare. I wait for him to say something, anything, and I'm not disappointed.

"So what? The fucking second you left me yesterday you ran to Hudson? Are you fucking kidding me?" He drops the test on the bed next to him, his face a mask of anger and disgust.

"No," I reply before he can continue. "I called Santana who was working and then went to the park for awhile. I didn't call him until a few hours later. I was scared, Noah. I needed a friend to be with me when I took the test; I needed to know one way or another what the results were and we weren't talking." The tears are tumbling down my face and I find myself stepping closer to him, silently praying that this doesn't break us.

"I was going to tell you all of it, every last detail, but he interrupted us. I know, especially right now, how hard it may be to believe, but I swear to you Finn and I have been over for years and we are just friends." I can hear Santana yelling in the other room, laying into Finn, but right now all I can focus on is the face in front of me. It's filled with hurt and anger.

"I'm not going to lie and say that I haven't had doubts these past few weeks. I'm not going to say that our relationship is perfect. But I love you, Noah. Nothing has happened between Finn and me since high school, I swear to you. I've wanted to tell you for so long about us hanging out, but I was so afraid of what you would think or of what you would say."

Noah looks at my face for a moment, his eyes rimmed in red. "Look me in the fucking eyes Rachel," he whispers hoarsely, "and tell me you haven't been having an emotional fucking relationship with him for months now. Do you think I'm a fucking idiot? Do you think I haven't seen the way he looks at you? Haven't noticed the way that you sometimes look at him?" He shakes his head in disbelief, his hands clenching and unclenching. I find my hand reaching out, gently stroking the underside of his chin.

"I'm so sorry that I've made you feel that way," I reply, "so sorry that it's come to this." My hand grasps his and brings it up to rest upon my belly. His fingers twitch against my shaking skin and I can feel the tears falling as the gasps escape my lips. "I fucked up." I whisper. "I was just looking for a friend. I see now how it could be misconstrued; see how it could be seen as something other than friendship." His fingers tighten against the material of my shirt and I let the sobs fall out. "But I promise you that all I saw and all I got out of it were friendship."

"I'm pregnant, Noah. I wanted you to be the first to know, wanted to be the one to tell you that you are going to be a daddy. But Finn has ruined that for me now." I'm curling in on myself, the world closing in until it's just the two of us, only the two of us. Both of our sobs fill the air around us as our hands grasp at each other's clothes. Noah pulls me closer, my body resting on top of his. I'm shaking, trembling, my breaths pant against the skin of his neck.

We lay together, neither of us moving, for what seems like an eternity. The light from the window fades and the moonlight filters through the curtains. I'm pretty sure that Santana drug Finn home a few hours ago and I can't even seem to find the energy to worry or to care.

"Are we going to be ok?" the words fall from my lips, each shaky and defined through the stillness of the air.

"I don't know," Noah replies softly, his eyes clenched tightly as his hands trace the edge of my stomach. "I just don't know."

Thanks to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter. I was surprised by the response! You guys are amazing..thanks for the encouragement and support!

There were quite a few questions regarding the last chapter and where this story is going... I've said from the begining that Finn is an integral character in Rachel's development and as such she has to have some interaction with him. I'm hoping this chapter helped clear up any lingering doubts.

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