She's picking up groceries at the supermarket one day – she's been stuck eating dry toast and spinach soup for way too long, because the pills the doctor gave her to deal with her 'fatigue' (he credited it to a stressful Nationals experience and her stepping-up with her exercise regime) make her feel nauseous with basically anything else, but she's feeling better and craving a cous-cous salad. Her fathers are still in Chicago on a business trip for another two weeks, so she can pick what she wants.

She runs into Mrs Fabray.

They've never spoken two words to each other in their lives, but she recognizes her from junior year Regionals and a couple of performances since.

See, this is why Rachel doesn't like going to the supermarket. It's one of those places that everyone has to go to, and you inevitably wind up bumping into people you don't want to see. Once Jacob Ben Israel found her here and he spent fifteen minutes trailing after her with a basket, grabbing a duplicate of whatever she pulled of the shelves and when they got to the counter he wrenched her stuff out of her hands, switched it with his and bought it, gleeful that he now owned things she'd touched. She doesn't like to think about what he did with her cucumber moisturizer.

When she sees her, rummaging in the frozen section for a box of blueberries, her heart sinks and she fully intends to walk on past without saying a word, not to be rude but because – well, they've never said two words to each other. And if Quinn's told her mother anything about Rachel, she's pretty sure it's not good. She doesn't think Mrs Fabray would be rude to her in public, but it would still be awkward if she saw her.

She slips past her. She's almost at the end of the aisle. She's starting to think she was being paranoid – after all, why would the woman talk to her? What would she even say?

'Rachel!'

Cursing her short legs – Quinn would've been able to walk fast enough – she turns around, plastering a friendly expression onto her face. It's one of those times she wishes she wasn't blessed with such excellent intuition. Damn her for being right.

'Hello, Mrs Fabray,' she says, injecting a whole lot of fake cheeriness into her voice as she's forced to walk over to her. The woman is dressed in a long skirt and button-down blouse despite the fact that it's summer. There's a pause where she'd usually add something along the lines of 'Lovely to see you, how's your husband?' (gone) or 'Lovely to see you, how's your daughter?' (psychologically troubled).

'… how are you?' she substitutes nervously.

'Oh, call me Judy,' Quinn's mother laughs, flapping a hand at her. God, does she look like Quinn. And she's smiling. Why on earth is she being so nice? 'And I'm very well, thank you. How are you? Having a good holiday?'

'Oh, yes. I'm really enjoying the time off to relax and rejuvenate.'

Why won't you stop smiling?

'Well, it doesn't sound like you've been doing that much relaxing to me,' laughs Mrs Fabray.

Rachel's brows furrow. 'Uh… I guess Quinn must have been telling you about all the glee get-togethers.' Even though she hasn't turned up to any of them…

'Oh, no – have you been hanging out with the glee club these holidays? That's lovely,' she says. 'No, no, I meant with all your volunteer work!'

Volunteer what now?

Rachel's confusion must show on her face, because Mrs Fabray's smile starts to falter.

'At the homeless shelter?'

'Oh – right!' she says quickly, deciding not to shatter the woman's illusion. She doesn't know why Quinn would tell her mom she's volunteering at a homeless shelter – with Rachel of all people – but she wouldn't lie unless she had a good reason, right?

'Sorry, my brain is just not working today,' she says, giving a fake sounding laugh. 'The volunteering can get pretty tiring, but I guess it's just the change of pace that makes it feel like a holiday.'

Mrs Fabray looks reassured, and considering how pathetic a cover that was Rachel suddenly understands how Quinn kept her pregnancy a secret from her parents for so long. That was the worst performance of her life and she resolves to practice with improvisation.

'Well, you girls make sure to have some fun too, now. That's what the holidays are for!'

'Definitely,' Rachel smiles, relieved to hear Mrs Fabray clearly attempting to wind the conversation up. 'It was, um, it was lovely to see you.'

'You too, take care!'

Quinn's mom disappears down into the mush of people and vegetable stands, having apparently fulfilled her obligation to talk to her daughter's volunteering partner, and Rachel is left gaping after her, wondering when the hell Quinn decided to use her as an alibi and what the hell she was doing that she needed one.

On the other hand, it's kind of a relief to know Quinn's been talking to somebody, even if it is just her own mother, because over the past couple of day's Rachel had come to the conclusion that the girl had dropped off the face of the earth.

Okay, so she's gone through phases of thinking Quinn was her friend, but the truth is that even in their relationship's heyday, things sucked. They're too different. She doesn't think Quinn is ever going to stop caring about being the most popular girl in high school, and Rachel is never going to stop thinking the whole thing is ridiculous, futile and insignificant in comparison to her greater future. They both pretty much define themselves by those stances respectively and so unless one of them gets a lobotomy, they're never going to see eye to eye long enough to establish a proper friendship. There's also the whole thing about sharing boyfriends (sharing being kind of a misleading term, as it implies some kind of willing cooperation instead of the soul crushing push-and-pull it really was), but at the end of the day that's something you get over (especially in glee club). Fundamentally, they are a lot harder to reconcile. You can't just get over a life philosophy, and you can't really be friends with someone who believes the exact opposite of what you do. Quinn thinks high school is the most important part of a person's life, and she'll do anything to stay on top. Rachel thinks high school is the least important part of a person's life and she got over wanting to be on top a long time ago. So that's that.

Outside of school, they don't really have a lot to do with each other, which is fine by Rachel and she assumes more than fine by Quinn. She didn't miss her at the barbecue and when the glee kids met up to go the movies a couple of days later, she didn't even notice Quinn wasn't there until she saw Sam and Mercedes sneakily holding hands in the cinema and realized they weren't worried about her spotting them.

She had asked Santana where Quinn was, and her response was 'I don't care what Prozac Barbie does in her spare time, but if I had to wager a guess I'd say boiling rabbits in Finn's kitchen or building a murder lair under a cornfield. Word of advice? Don't ever let her measure your wrists, because if she manages to make shackles small enough for you, you won't be able to escape when she locks you up, shaves off all your hair and comes to school in argyle, knee socks, a reindeer sweater and a genuine Berry-hair wig to try and get Finn to love her again.'

Remind her never to ask Santana questions.

Well, she might not know what Quinn's been up to, but she's sure curious now. And at least she knows she's alive – because, you know, they may not get along, but they'll really need her sugary alto when it comes time for Sectionals. And she's strangely flattered that Quinn picked her as her alibi, too. Not that it makes any sense.

She races through the supermarket, forgoing the hunt for the really good Italian dressing and her usual careful tomato selection in favour of getting outside as fast as she can, because there's no reception in there – last summer there was actually a rally about this, seeing how it's one of the few public buildings with air conditioning and the teenage boys who go there for the nachos, low-cut checkout chick uniforms and indoor cooling get really cranky without texting. The rally was half made up of those Neanderthals, and half of the unfortunate victims of their boredom - kids in the vein of Kurt or Artie who really, really wanted Lima's jocks to have something better to do than troll the streets for people to toss in dumpsters.

She's got her thumb poised over the Quinn entry in her phonebook when the screen glows white and a different name appears – Finn.

She grins and answers the call – she hasn't heard from him since yesterday afternoon, with how busy he's been at Burt's garage, and she'll admit it. She already misses him.

Plus she thinks he might have some insight into this whole Quinn-told-her-mom-we're-volunteering-at-a-homeless-shelter-together situation. He did date her, twice. Then again, the few times he's mentioned Quinn since he and Rachel got back together – every time with an apologetic and slightly frightened look on his face – he's been all 'Yeah, I watched that movie with Quinn a while ago but I couldn't really concentrate because she was glaring at the side of my head and I thought if I looked at the screen too much she'd get mad and like… kick me'; or 'I think Quinn's one of those girls who gets her periods really close together… like, maybe a couple times a month', so… maybe he wouldn't be much help.

'Hey,' she says happily, lifting the phone to her ear. 'You will never guess what just happened!'

'Rach?'

She stops walking to the car, her heart doing something weird (like it's a fruit that dropped from a really high branch and smashed on the ground, and now the branch really misses it and hurts a little bit) because that's Finn's voice, but she's never heard it sound like that before. It's hoarse and he sounds really, really upset.

'Finn,' she breathes. 'What's wrong?'

'Um… can you come over?'

Her chest is feeling tight; he sounds small and scared (there's something about hearing a boy's voice when he sounds upset – any boy, but particularly this one – that really terrifies her), and wasn't he supposed to be working at the garage all day today?'

'I thought you were at the garage? Finn, what's going on? Are you okay?'

'I'm fine. I just – I wanted to see you. It's… if you're busy, then -'

'No, no, I'm not busy,' she says quickly. And even if she was, she'd be making herself un-busy because something is wrong and the Quinn Mystery will have to wait. 'I'll be right there. You're at your house?'

'Yeah. I…' he starts to say something and then she hears him swallow, like he can't bear to get more words out. 'I, uh…'

'Finn,' she says, because he's really starting to frighten her, and she approaches her car at a run. 'I'm on my way. Can you please tell me what's going on? Stay on the phone with me, okay?'

'You shouldn't drive and talk on the phone at the same time. I'll – I'll see you soon.'

There's a clunk and then the dial tone – he hung up.

The journey to his house is some of the worst driving Rachel's ever done – she almost hits a parked car at one point, because she doesn't know what's going on and in lieu of knowledge is panic. Her mind throws forth a million terrible situations that could make Finn sound like that and she's powerless to stop it, just prays that Burt and Carole and Kurt are all okay but feels a sickening dread, because they're three of the very few things that she believes Finn would really be upset about. Luckily his house is only about ten minutes away from the supermarket and it's the middle of the day (no traffic) so she makes it in five.

He must have been watching for her from the house because she's just raised her hand to knock on the door when it flies open and he's standing there, with an expression on his face that literally breaks Rachel's heart. He's already close to tears and she feels sick at the idea that in the time it took her to drive here, he's been dealing with whatever this is and now he's not talking in that hoarse, helpless way; he's about to cry and his arms are folded over his chest like he's trying to keep himself together. Before she can even think about asking what's wrong, she's stepped forward and pulled him into a hug, because she can't stand this. He lets her do it but doesn't move, doesn't lean into it or hug her back and she realizes immediately it was the wrong thing to do, it wasn't what he needed, so she pulls back and just looks at him.

'Just… close the door,' he mumbles, and she obeys, watching him anxiously.

'Finn,' she says, pleading with him, 'please… please just tell me what's wrong. Is everyone okay, is your family okay?'

There's a look of disbelief on his face, like he can't quite believe he's in this situation, and from the way he's staring at the floor and refusing to meet her eyes she gets the feeling he regrets asking her to come here already, which doesn't make sense.

'I…' he manages to say, like it takes great effort, 'I fucked up, Rachel.'

His eyes are pleading, asking her to forgive him before she knows what he's done.

If a million different situations flew through her head in the car, a million more come now. So Finn's done something.

He wouldn't cheat on me.

The errant thought emerges in her mind like something toxic, and she shoves it back down. She knows, really, that this is about something else. She doesn't believe he would cheat on her, but she can't help thinking of Santana and the almost-cheating they did together and why he would refuse to tell her anything until she got here and why he can barely get the words out.

There is a tiny part of her that thinks that. The rest of her is smart enough to know that he loves her, and he wouldn't, and he means something else. She knows that's what she believes because she feels awful right away for even suspecting, and kind of hates herself for assuming it's about her and… she couldn't help it.

All that runs through her mind in the space of a couple of seconds, and then she's done, she's back to feeling terrified about everything else it could be.

'Okay, well…' she struggles to find the right words. His eyes are boring into hers as they stand in his foyer, and she doesn't understand what he's feeling. 'Just tell me what happened and I'll help you.'

'You can't,' he replies shakily, and runs a hand through his hair. 'I… shit, I crashed my car, Rachel, and my mom's in the hospital!' It all comes out in one rushed sentence and his eyes are wide like he's thinking I can't come back from that.

Her hand flies to her mouth. Oh my God… oh my God… Finn put his mom in the hospital. 'Oh, Finn… is she okay?'

'I think so… they said she has a concussion,' he croaks, and he moves towards her, desperate. 'I didn't mean to – I was picking her up to come see Burt at the garage and I got distracted and I don't even know what happened, one minute it was fine and then this car is slamming into us, on her side, and our car rolled over –'

She has to press her hand hard against her mouth to stop from making a noise at that, but she squeaks anyway and his eyes, which have been shining since she got in the door, brim over and there are tears running down his face. I think so… they said she has a concussion. Carole's going to be fine and she has room to feel very, very relieved but her boyfriend is still standing in front of her, devastated because he thinks it's all his fault and she knows that if there's one person in this world he has never wanted to hurt, it's his mom.

'I'm sorry!' he says, almost a sob, and his voice cracks. This is where she realizes he needs the hug because he is apologizing to her and he has done nothing he needs to apologize for, and she wraps her arms around him. His mother… Jesus, she's Finn's mother. She doesn't have one, so she can't say she knows what that love is like. But she's seen it.

This time he returns it, buries his face in her shoulder and holds her back. He's shaking and she rubs his arms, like he was shivering and this was something she could fix. She wishes she could say something, anything, to make him feel better because that's what she does. She knows that's what Rachel-comfort is; she's good at speeches, she's good at making people believe they are good or bad even if five minutes ago they believed the exact opposite. She doesn't know what to say here. He got distracted. His mom got hit. It isn't his fault but there is an element of cause and effect here she will never be able to free him from, not with a speech, not with anything.

She has never seen him this upset, and they've seen each other through a lot.

He's not the type to resign himself to crying, so she lets him hide his face as she runs her fingers through his hair, and a few minutes later when he pulls himself out of her arms, he looks calmer, but still miserable. What she wants to do is hug him for about another eight hours or so but he needs her to say something, anything. No, the right thing.

'Finn, this isn't your fault,' she says, knowing that as ineffectual as it is it has to be said. He clearly doesn't believe her, because he scoffs, face overcome with self-loathing.

'I was driving,' he muttered.

'You didn't hit her,' Rachel insists, putting her hands on his shoulders. He won't look at her, but she can see him trying to keep the reins on his guilt, because he doesn't think he should be absolved and yet he's always trusted Rachel, and if Rachel is telling him this… maybe she does have a shot at convincing him, here.

'People get distracted. I know you and I know you're a good driver. I don't know exactly what happened, the mechanics of those two cars, but I do know that a split second of distraction does not make this your fault. I know you would never put your mom in danger.'

He just nods, but it's perfunctory.

'Come on, believe me,' she encourages him. 'I would not lie to you, Finn, I wouldn't do that to you. I trust you enough to believe that this is not your fault. And she's going to be okay, right?'

'That doesn't change what happened.'

'It should be all that matters.'

There's a moment of silence.

'Burt is… furious.'

She opens her mouth, surprised. 'What?'

'He kicked me out of her room.'

Rachel gawks. She realizes how strange it is that Finn is at home by himself right now instead of at the hospital with his family. Also, she is stunned. Burt's a grown man – no matter how worried he is, he should know better than to… he should just know better.

She can see that for Finn, this is one of the worst parts; this is the biggest thing keeping him from believing he's not actually at fault. They've never really talked about it but she knows he looks up to Burt, admires him, thinks he's a good example of what a man should be and he's tried very hard to earn his respect and his trust after everything that happened with Kurt. She's been to his house a few times with Burt there, and she always thought it was nice, how well they got along now and how much they seem to have in common. In this case, the two relevant things they share are an overwhelming love for Carole and a tendency to blame Finn.

The more she thinks about it the angrier she gets, not realizing Finn is waiting for her reaction and only knowing her indignation shows on her face when he says 'I told him it was my fault, Rachel. He didn't come up with it on his own. I told him I was distracted and I looked away and it was my fault.'

'Look, Finn,' she says, 'even if you said that, he had no right to kick you out of your mother's room and he should have been smart enough to realize just because you blame yourself doesn't mean he should.' She looks him square in the eye. 'You didn't deserve that.' She pauses. 'In fact, we should go to the hospital.'

It seems like he won't dare to let himself believe he can. He raises his eyebrows. 'You really think that's a good idea?' There's hope in his voice and for what seems like the hundredth time in the past twenty minutes her heart breaks a bit.

'Your mom would want you to,' she says, and it's like he never thought of that before. They're the magic words. Suddenly he looks determined and he nods.

'Yeah. You'll come with me… right?' he asks nervously. She smiles and reaches out for his hand, squeezes it.

'Of course.'

They're halfway out the front door when a thought occurs to her, and her hand flies out to grab Finn's arm, stopping him. It's like a punch to the stomach. Finn turns to her, wide eyed.

'Finn!' she cries. She cannot believe she didn't think of this before. 'Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?'

A weak smile itches over his face. It's forced, and when he speaks, she can tell he thinks it's unfair.

'Not a scratch on me.'

#

When they get to the hospital (she drove), Finn is nervous. She's the one who asks at the front desk if his mom is still in the same room, and she lets him lead her there by the hand. There's not really anything more to be said at this point other than what she said in the car, which was not to be an outsider in his own family, so she just grips his hand and feels nervous with him.

When they finally get to the right wing, they turn a corner and straight away Rachel sees Burt and Kurt, sitting together in chairs outside a hospital room with paper cups of coffee. Kurt sees them immediately and Rachel knows in that second that he, at least, does not blame Finn because he looks relieved to see them, and gives Finn a sympathetic smile. And he and his dad were not speaking before they entered; unusual for them.

Burt doesn't see them until a couple of seconds later, and when his head lifts Finn's grip on her hand tightens. His hand is sweaty but she returns the grip. Burt's face is expressionless at first, and then Rachel is relieved to see that there is regret mixed in with the anger that comes when he sees Finn. He only glances at Rachel, but she gets it. This isn't about her.

'Finn,' he says, and stands up.

'Hey,' Finn says, and clears his throat, looking awkward and anxious. 'How's –'

'She's gonna be fine,' Burt says, and the corners of his mouth turn up. 'The doctor approved her X-rays a while ago and ruled out a fracture; they've just taken her to a lab to do a couple more tests right now, but she should be able to come home tomorrow morning, we think.'

Rachel closes her eyes with relief, a tension lifting from her shoulders she hadn't realized she'd held. There was something about hearing it from Burt that really confirmed it. Carole would be fine.

She opens her eyes to see Burt looking at her, a bigger smile on his face.

'Rachel, thank you for bringing him back in,' he says seriously (how did he know?). And he turns back to Finn. 'Son, I was worried about your mom. I spoke to the other driver – he was speeding, he admitted it, and you were doing everything right. He hit your car because he couldn't slow down in time. I want to apologise for making you think it was your fault Carole got hurt. I should have known better than to blame you just because you blamed yourself.'

Finn's lips twitch at that and Rachel nudges him with her elbow. She and Burt thought alike.

'You're a good kid and good kids sometimes feel responsible for bad things that happen when it isn't their fault. I should have remembered that. As your stepdad, I think I have a right to be a little annoyed that you got distracted while you were driving. I hope you know I'd be just as annoyed if you were driving alone. But I should never have sent you away from your mother, and I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me.'

Burt speaks earnestly, and Rachel can't help forgiving him for what she was ready to really hate him for just a short while ago. She thinks kicking Finn out of Carole's room was despicable, no matter whose fault he believed it was at the time. But there aren't many parents who will apologise so honestly and sincerely – her own fathers have always struggled to humble themselves like that – and there are few, too, who like and respect their kids the way she can tell Burt does with Finn, who looks happier than he has all day and whose grip on her hand no longer feels painful because she can tell he's starting to think everything might be okay.

'Thanks,' he tells Burt, and accepts the man's handshake when offered. 'And uh… I'll never get distracted when I'm driving again, I promise.'

'I think you probably won't,' grins Burt.

#

Rachel waits with the Hummel-Hudsons at the hospital for Carole's tests to get back. Finn is like a man who grew a hundred years older in a single day and then got young again; the self-hatred she saw in his eyes at his house is gone, and though she can tell he still feels sheepish and worried, he doesn't seem to feel guilty anymore. He's lighter. Burt excuses himself to 'go find a doctor' for undisclosed reasons and she thinks he's really just doing something nice for Finn by disappearing for a moment, because the second he rounds the corner Finn kisses Rachel in a way that wouldn't feel entirely right in front of his stepfather; he rests his hand on her neck and pushes her hair back with the other, and it's one of those I have to tell you things kisses that she knows means he is relieved and happy and really, really loves her and thank you. Kurt puts up with it for about twenty seconds and then starts making vomiting noises.

'Cease and desist!' he cries. 'I'm having Nationals flashbacks! Stop that right now!'

They both start laughing at the same time and so the kiss stops.

'Hello, Kurt,' Rachel smiles, remembering that she hadn't greeted him yet. They're all smiling, dopey on good news and resolution.

'Hello,' he says. 'You're a good girlfriend, coming down here with Finn.' It's one of his rare mentioning-Finchel-without-the-mockery moments. 'I'll have you know, Blaine's not here because he caught the bus to Bedford this morning to visit his sister's family, but I've got…' he reached into his pocket and brought out his phone, scrolling through his inbox and clicking his tongue with satisfaction, 'twenty two texts from him, offering his support.'

'He's a very good boyfriend,' nods Rachel solemnly.

'Just thought you should know,' Kurt shrugs, struggling not to smile.

'Rachel still wins,' Finn says quietly. The favourite crooked smile appears and even though this day has been awful, this is a moment of clarity.

For a big part of her life she thought she would never have a boyfriend, let alone someone she loved as much as Finn; let alone someone who loved her. She never thought she would have a boy who knew her and liked her anyway, and she never thought she would be the type of girlfriend someone would call when they were upset, someone he would cry in front of and listen to and trust and bring to the hospital when his mom got hurt. She was an absolver of guilt and an encourager of bravery and Finn trusts her (which feels good, after last year). You don't imagine that kind of intimacy when you think boyfriend. You learn it when it happens.

Footsteps echo from down the hallway and they all turn towards the noise; there's a beat and then a hospital gurney comes wheeling around the corner, Burt on one side and a blue-scrubs clad doctor on the other. Lying on the gurney is Carole: her dark hair kinks in accidental ways around her head and her face is white; her eyes are closed, and there is a big white patch of gauze over her forehead that is secured with two little pieces of tape. She could be sleeping and she is, really, she just didn't fall asleep.

She doesn't look too bad, but Rachel looks at Finn and he is horrified. He leaps out of his chair like he's been shocked and meets the gurney at the doorway of his mother's hospital room, staring at the woman on the bed like he's never seen her before. She imagines it's scary to see your parent hurt. Scary to see them unconscious. After all, kids believe their parents are invincible and in a lot of ways, Finn is just a really big kid. Hell, it's scaring her a little bit to see Carole like that and they barely know each other, it's just that she knows who she is to Finn and a woman like that being hurt, it's just not nice.

Swallowing, she glances at Kurt, who hasn't jumped up but stares at Carole with a similarly stricken expression. He sees her looking at him and attempts a smile – they both know she's going to be okay. Doesn't make this not-scary.

'She's going to be okay, son,' Burt says, clapping a hand on Finn's shoulder, and Finn nods mutely, watching his mother be wheeled into her room. After a moment he shakes his head and walks back over to Rachel and Kurt, throwing himself down in his chair and staring straight ahead.

'You okay?' Kurt asks warily.

For a minute he doesn't answer, but then he tips his head back and knocks it gently against the wall, sighing. 'Yeah. Fine. I just hate this place.'

Rachel hates hospitals too. Nothing good ever happens there.

Beep.

Somebody's phone chimes in that familiar 'you've got mail' way. Finn jerks his head up; Kurt rummages in his pocket for his phone, and looks up when he checks his inbox. 'Not me. Must be your phone, Rachel.'

She pulls her phone out of her front jeans pocket and is surprised to see a little white picture of an envelope with a caption that reads You have a message from: QUINN FABRAY.

Quinn has never texted Rachel before in her life. Under her real name, that is. Rachel's pretty sure she's responsible for the flood of hobbit jokes she received anonymously after The Lord of The Rings came out, because they weren't clever enough to be Santana's.

Running into Mrs Fabray at the supermarket this morning feels like forever ago.

She thumbs the image and Quinn's message blooms onto the screen.

Talked to my mom. Don't screw this up. Meet me at the 7 Eleven tomorrow at 4 and I'll explain: until then, DON'T SAY A WORD.

A/N: Thank you so much for the favourites, story alerts, author alerts and most especially the reviews for the last chapter I appreciate everything. I hope you enjoyed this one. Please review with comments or questions and expect the next chapter soon!