Author's Note: To the people following, favoriting, and reviewing, thank you. Those of you that have reviewed the last few chapters and have gotten a response back from me know how much they mean to me. To the anonymous reviewers, they really do mean a lot. More than I can possibly say. And to the people that leave negative reviews, I would LOVE for you to sign up to give me your review so we can actually discuss your criticisms. Short of that, though, every one of your negative reviews only serves to raise my total number and make my story look better than it actually is. So thanks.

Also, this chapter deals more with some of Quinn's issues (as this story is about both girls).

Because I haven't said it, or maybe just haven't said it in a while, I don't own Glee. I know you're surprised. I also do this beta-less, so any grammatical mistakes or missing words or general sloppiness is my bad.

Otherwise, please enjoy. Review if you're feeling like it.

The four girls went back to Santana's house for showers and sopapillas which really were every bit as good as Brittany said they were. The sopapillas, not the showers, though they were pretty nice, too, after running seven miles that morning.

After personally helping her wrap up her stitches and bag her braced forearm, Quinn got Brittany to stay in the bathroom with Rachel while she took a shower. Rachel said she wasn't mad at Santana, that she understood what they did for her, but the glares she threw at the girl and the way she ignored her in conversation led Quinn to believe otherwise. Still, if anyone could make someone love Santana, it was Brittany. She'd done it for the past two years to new Cheerio recruits.

After breakfast, Quinn had dropped Rachel off at home, telling her. "Feel free to text me any time today. I'm sure I could use a break from babysitting cousins and drunk uncles." They both laughed, and Rachel promised to, in-between episodes of Buffy, of course. Santana had lent her the entire series, as well as all of Angel. Quinn made sure to tell her not to flip through any booklets or anything as there were some awesome surprises that could be ruined. Rachel had huffed and pouted again but ended up promising anyway. Quinn guaranteed her it would be worth it.

Quinn walked Rachel to her door, wanting to speak to Leroy and Hiram again before she left. If she was going to be Rachel's friend, she had to make an effort to get along with them, no matter what Leroy may suggest she is or how he may feel about her.

While Rachel went upstairs with Leroy to put away her bag, clothes, and the rest of her junk foods, Quinn followed Hiram into the kitchen. She handed over the pill bottles and, as quickly as possible, told him about the few times that Rachel had what Quinn was referring to as 'breakdowns'. She also told him they were going to start jogging every other morning, as Quinn had read that regular exercise was important after a suicide attempt. She didn't bother telling him that Rachel would be pushed as hard as she could take by someone that had bullied her for years. She didn't think he would understand. She also made sure to tell him to call her if anything happened to Rachel.

Once Rachel was back downstairs, they hugged goodbye for a minute, Rachel again promising to text Quinn to keep her sane throughout the family visit. She looked sad that Quinn was leaving, but there was nothing to be done for it. Honestly, Quinn hated to be leaving just as much as Rachel hated seeing her go. They couldn't stay around each other all the time, though, no matter how nice the last twenty-four hours had been. Well, mostly. There had been more good moments than bad at least.

Getting home a little after nine, Quinn found her mother in the kitchen, wearing an apron over her sweats and t-shirt and shoving a ham into the oven. "Quinnie, you're home, good," Judy said. "I need some help in here. Everyone's supposed to be here at one. That only gives us three hours. And I still need to take a shower and get ready." Quinn promised she'd be right back, but first she had to go check on Rachel's present. She felt bad leaving the kitten all alone. She'd called her mom after buying it, and Judy had promised to look after the kitten while Quinn was away. Judy wasn't a big fan of anything that shed, though, so she doubted her mother had done anything more than feed it and make sure it was alive.

After putting her bag down in her room and changing into something she could get messy cooking in, she went back out into the hall and into the bathroom. The little black and white kitten, what Brittany had called a 'tuxedo cat' was lying on a couple of towels and sleeping. Thankfully, Santana and Brittany had followed her instructions and put away anything that the kitten might get into. It was still really small, but it had eaten some of the can of kitten food her mother had fed it just that morning so Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing the tiny thing, she'd worried that it would still be on milk from its mother, no matter what Brittany had said to the contrary. She reached down and rubbed the top of its head a little, enough to get it to look up at her. Quinn smiled, and hoped again that this wasn't going to be a stupid present.

Soon, Quinn found herself back downstairs and in full female Fabray mode. Judy had taught Frannie and Quinn both from a young age how to cook, clean, sew, and anything else that Russell thought appropriate for daughters to know as future wives. Her father had seemed upset at times, not having sons, and Quinn wondered if that's why he took them to baseball and football games. She had never been a fan of baseball, but football she liked. Well, not the sport so much, but watching the cheerleaders. They had been amazing, athletic and beautiful. Those games her father had taken her to was one of the reasons Quinn wanted to be a Cheerio.

While they worked in the kitchen, Quinn gave her mom an abridged version of her sleepover. She left out all the negative parts: her near fight with Santana, Rachel's breakdowns, Brittany getting angry with her, Brittany and Santana's rampant sexual misadventures. No need to worry her in case she wanted to have them over sometime now that Russell was gone and Judy was sober. Actually…

"Hey, mom," Quinn started, stirring a pot on the stove. "It was really nice of Santana's parents to let us spend the night over there. She actually said we're welcome to spend the night anytime."

"That's sweet of her," Judy said while peeling potatoes. "How are Mr. and Mrs. Lopez?"

"They're okay," Quinn said. "We didn't actually see Mr. Lopez until breakfast this morning. He had an overnight shift at the hospital. Ms. Lopez seemed well, though."

"That's good, that's good," Judy said absentmindedly.

There was a few moments of silence between them before Quinn said, "So, seeing as how Mr. and Ms. Lopez were nice enough to have us over for a sleepover, I was thinking it would be a nice idea to give them a chance to some privacy one night and maybe invite Santana to have a sleepover here. Like… maybe next week while we're all still out of school?"

"Quinnie, you know Santana and Brittany are always invited over," Judy said with a smile, plopping another potato in the pot she was filling with newly peeled potatoes. She readjusted on her barstool at the kitchen island and waved a fresh potato towards Quinn as if that would help make her point. "I've been trying to get you to have them over forever."

"Yeah, I know, I know," Quinn said, feeling guilty. She didn't want to tell her mother she was embarrassed of her parents, though Quinn thought Judy might have had some idea. Apparently 'forever' was only the last eight months or so since Quinn had moved back in. It clearly didn't include her freshman or sophomore years when Judy had never mentioned having them over after that first time with Russell's leering and Judy's drinking. If she wanted to play the guilt game, though, Quinn could do just that. "I just…" Quinn sighed. "I guess I've just been trying to get used to living here again and everything. All the time I was kicked out, I got used to going over to their houses. But you're right. It would be nice to have everyone over here for a change."

Quinn watched from the corner of her eye as Judy's face dropped at the mention of her being kicked out. She felt like such a bitch for doing it, but she wasn't sure if Judy would want Rachel to come over. She didn't know how much of her father's ideology her mother actually agreed with. It might be too much for Judy Fabray to have the suicidal daughter of two openly gay men in her home.

"Yes," Judy said, a smile appearing to cover her previous downtrodden expression. "That would be lovely. I haven't seen those girls in ages."

"And you haven't even met Rachel yet," Quinn said, turning back to the stove to stir another pot. "I really think you'll like her." Or, she hoped Judy would, at least. Rachel was one of them now, for better or for worse. If Judy didn't like her then Quinn would just not have any of them over. "She's been kind of… moody… since, y'know, but before that, she was really talkative and polite and energetic. The kind of friend any parent would like, really." She turned back to Judy who was sitting there staring at Quinn. "What?"

"Quinn…," Judy said, dragging her name out. "I'm not so sure it would be such a good idea to have Rachel over. I know she's your friend and everything now, sweetie, but… I mean, wouldn't it be best if she stayed at her house and… I don't know. Recuperated? Isn't that what she really needs right now? I know if it were you, I would be worried about you leaving the house."

"She's already left her house, though. I mean, she spent the night at Santana's last night," Quinn said. Her mother stared at her. "Didn't I tell you she was going to be there? I'm pretty sure I did."

"No, Quinn, you didn't," Judy said stiffly. Possibly angrily. She hadn't really gotten angry at Quinn since she had come back home, so Quinn was unsure what this new, sober Judy Fabray's anger would be like. "I'm rather certain I would have remembered that."

"Oh," Quinn said, playing it off. "Sorry. But she was. And Santana and Brittany like her and I like her so I don't see why it matters if she was there or not. Her fathers were okay with it." Eventually, she thought. "So as long as they were okay with her staying over here, would it be okay, then?"

"I don't know," Judy said, shaking her head. "I'm still not sure."

"Then would it be okay if I spent the night at her house?" Quinn asked. If her mother was going to be this worried about her precious image, then Quinn would just stay away.

"Quinnie," Judy said again, stretching it out to somewhere between a warning and a plea. "I'm just not so sure that you spending time with this girl is such a good idea."

Quinn was silent for a long minute, taking a couple of deep breaths before she asked her question. Finally, she said, "Is this because Rachel's parents are gay?"

Judy opened her mouth to say something, then closed again, opting to shake her head. "No, sweetie," Judy said. "This has nothing to do with her… fathers."

"Right," Quinn said, laying the spoon she'd been using to stir down. "Sure. Okay, because why would the wife of Russell Fabray have a problem with her daughter hanging out at two gay men's house? Sure, mother." She went to walk out of the room, but stopped at the door. Turning back to Judy, she added, "Seeing how they act with Rachel just over the last couple of days, it showed me what a real father is supposed to act like. How dare you… how dare you judge them because they're gay. They're better parents that that man ever was to me. And yet you take his side? You think that they're, what? Sinners? Just because they can't help who they love? That's the most… I can't even… Ugh!" And she turned to walk away again.

"Quinnie," Judy said, calling after her, but Quinn didn't stop until she called again. "Lucy!" Quinn stopped halfway through the living room, crossing her arms over her chest. Where had that burst of anger come from? What was she now, some kind of gay rights activist? She didn't care about Leroy and Hiram, she cared about Rachel. And Judy wasn't talking about Rachel specifically. So why did she care? Why did she suddenly care about her mother's view on gay people?

"Quinn," Judy said, coming up behind her. "Look at me. Please?" Quinn turned around but didn't look at her mother, choosing instead to stare down at the floor because suddenly her candy cane striped socks were far more interesting than anything Judy had to say. "Quinn?" she asked again. This time Quinn huffed, thinking that she'd been spending too much time around Rachel if she was now huffing like her, and raised her eyes to meet her mother's.

"I'm not your father," Judy said, a worried look in her eyes. "I'd like to think we discovered that in therapy this summer. And even though I might agree with him on some things or disagree with him on some things, I'd like to think that you wouldn't just assume that I'd take his side on everything. Especially something like this." Quinn was confused, and it must have shown because Judy said, "I don't hate gay people for being gay. I know what our old church said, but I don't. I don't think you can simply choose to be gay or not be gay. You can't choose who you love, Quinnie. If you could, I wouldn't… I wouldn't still care about your father."

"You…" Quinn started, but stopped, disbelieving. "You still love dad? After he kicked me out? After he cheated on you? After… after everything?"

"Sweetie, when you get to be my age," Judy said, "you start to realize life isn't as simple as people want it to be. Your father wasn't always the man he is now. He used to be so sweet, so romantic. He would bring me flowers for no reason, write little love notes and leave them around the house. Your grandmother died while we were still dating in high school, and I was just… distraught. And do you know what he did? He took me to his mother and said, 'I know your mom isn't with us anymore, but don't think you don't still have a mother living. Everything I have is yours. Forever.' In high school, Quinnie." Judy wiped away a tear that was falling down her cheek. Quinn had never heard her talk about her father like this, even during therapy. "I may not love who he is now, but I'll always love that sixteen year old boy I fell in love with." Judy was quiet for a moment, wiping at her eyes with her apron. After she had collected herself, she said, "So I choose to believe that God doesn't make mistakes. People do. People make mistakes all the time. But God doesn't. So if Rachel's parents were born gay, then that's how they're supposed to be, and I can't hate them for that."

"Then… why?" Quinn asked. "Why do you not want me to be around Rachel?"

"It's not about her, Quinnie," Judy said, taking a deep breath. "It's about you. Do you think I didn't listen when you were talking the other night about needing to help Rachel, about feeling like God told you to help Rachel? You're taking responsibility for this girl because you feel guilty. I can't let you do that."

"What? Why not?" Quinn asked. "It's my fault."

"No," Judy said. "Her actions are not your fault. Isn't that something Dr. Richards said in therapy? How other people deal with problems isn't your fault. It was the same way when I tried to blame my drinking on your father. No one held a gun to my head. No one made me drink. I could have sought help at any time. I could have gone to meetings. Just because your father was worried about his image didn't mean he actually kept me from going. I kept me from going. It took me a long time to be able to admit that, but I can admit it now."

Quinn was even more confused. "I don't-"

"It's the same with you and Rachel, sweetie," Judy said. "Rachel didn't hurt herself because of you." Quinn started to protest but Judy grabbed her upper arms, pulling her closer so she could look her directly in the eye. "She didn't. She hurt herself because of her. I'm not excusing what you did. Bullying her was wrong, and we both know that, but you've punished yourself enough. I'm not going to let you punish yourself anymore."

"Being with Rachel isn't punishment, mom," Quinn said, pulling away from Judy. "I actually like Rachel, okay? I mean, sure, I didn't think I would at first. She talks far too much and she's annoying and bossy and kind of a know-it-all, but, deep down, she's really caring and sweet and nice. And, yes, okay, I do feel guilty, and I'm trying to help her get better, but I'm not punishing myself by being around her. I like being around her."

"I didn't mean it like that, Quinn," Judy said. "I just meant… if she tries to hurt herself again-"

"She won't."

"But if she does-"

"She's not going to," Quinn ground out. "I'm not discussing this with you." And again Quinn tried to walk away, but Judy grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face her.

"Doesn't you not even wanting to talk about the possibility of Rachel attempting something like this again show you that I'm telling the truth," Judy said. "God forbid Rachel actually kill herself,-"

"Mom!"

"but if she did, how would you feel?" Judy asked. Quinn looked down, unwilling to answer the question. She had the nightmares already asking her the same thing. Now her mother, too? "I know you, sweetie. I know your heart. You'd feel like you failed her. And I can't sit by and watch you do that to yourself. I can't watch you blame yourself for Rachel."

"You'd rather I blame you?" Quinn asked. "When I'm with her… she says it makes everything better. She told me I make her feel normal. That I make her feel… better. And if you tell me I can't see her and she does actually… do it… I'll blame you."

"I'd much rather have you blame me than yourself," Judy said simply.

With that, Judy turned and walked back into the kitchen. Quinn looked at her from the corner of her eye, watching her taking over the stirring of pots while trying to finish peeling potatoes. Her mom was worried about her. A year ago, Quinn would have given anything in the world to know that Judy was worried about her, to know that she was loved. Now? Now it was just kind of pissing her off. She didn't need Judy. She didn't need her when she was bouncing around from house to house, she didn't need her when nobody wanted her, and she damn sure didn't need her now. She wouldn't do like Santana and Brittany had done. She wouldn't give up on Rachel. No matter what Judy said.

Quinn sighed. She didn't need Judy's approval… but she still wanted it.

"Move," Quinn said, taking the spoon from Judy and stirring the different pots while Judy went back to peeling potatoes. They were mostly silent as they finished making Christmas lunch for the family coming over, saying only what needed to be said to get the job done. An hour later, just as everything was finished and Judy was smiling at Quinn over a job well done, Quinn said, "You know I'm still going to see her, don't you? Rachel? I'm not giving up on her."

Judy shook her head, and smiled a sad smile. "You wouldn't be my daughter if you did. And to answer your next question, yes, I would rather have the both of you here where I can keep an eye on you than have you God knows where doing God knows what. Next Thursday, you can have Santana and Brittany… and Rachel… over if you want."

Quinn smiled, running over and hugging Judy with an unexpected hug that had the both of them laughing. With a kiss on the cheek, Quinn said, "Now go shower, mom. You stink."

"Thank you, dear heart," Judy said, kissing the top of Quinn's head and walking up the stairs.

After a cursory glance around the kitchen to make sure nothing was wrong and casting a glance at the ham in the oven, Quinn went back upstairs. She stopped in the bathroom, giving the kitten another rub between its ears, then went to her room to change and get ready for company. She checked her phone and saw four missed texts from Rachel in- Quinn glanced at the clock, seeing that it was 11:17- less than two hours. Unlocking her phone, she read the texts:

From Rachel Berry: Hi, Quinn. It's Rachel. I didn't know what time your family was coming over so I didn't know what time I should text you, so I thought I would go ahead and say

From Rachel Berry: again that I had a lot of fun with you and Santana and Brittany yesterday and this morning. Well this morning not so much, but you know what I me

From Rachel Berry: an. Hope you're having a good Christmas Eve. –Rachel Berry*

They were sent all at the same time, and Quinn couldn't help but marvel at how talkative Rachel was, even through texting. A little while later another text was sent that read:

From Rachel Berry: Sorry that text was so long. I guess you're busy with your family. -Rachel Berry*

Quinn couldn't help but like Rachel. She was just so adorable. Kind of like Brittany, but different. Sadder, like she just wanted so much for people to like her, but still with that same kind of innocence that Brittany had. How could someone that was depressed enough to try what Rachel tried still have that kind of innocence? It both amazed Quinn and made her increasingly depressed at the same time. Rachel shouldn't ever have felt that way. She shouldn't have ever felt that was her only option.

Texting Rachel back, Quinn wrote:

From Quinn Fabray: Did you seriously put a star after your name in a text? And I know who it is. You don't have to sign your name lol

From Quinn Fabray: And the family's not here yet. I was busy cooking with mom

The response she got back was automatic, like Rachel had been sitting by her phone. God, the girl probably was.

From Rachel Berry:Sorry. I'm not used to texting a lot. Haven't really had anyone to text except my dads. And I'm just used to putting a star after my name.

From Rachel Berry: It's dumb, I should stop.

From Quinn Fabray: It's not dumb. How about I put one beside your name on your caller id so you don't have to keep writing it?

From Rachel Berry*: Really? You'd do that for me?

From Quinn Fabray: Already done. I should go, though. Make sure nothing's burning. Text you later. :-)

After a little while, Quinn's house was filled with aunts and uncles she hadn't seen in years, cousins she barely knew, and her grandfather who she'd loved more than anything growing up. Most of them had stayed away from the Fabray house because of Russell. He'd loved Judy, but he'd never really seen eye-to-eye with most of her family. More often than not, Russell's family would visit over the holidays and Judy would make excuses of why they couldn't come visit or why it was too crowded to have them over. This year, with Russell moved across town, it was like reconnecting with long lost loved ones.

Everyone marveled over how beautiful 'little Lucy' had become, and both Quinn and Judy had to remind everyone that she went by 'Quinn' now. If anyone knew about Quinn's pregnancy or her parents kicking her out, they chose not to say anything. More likely, though, they didn't know. Russell made sure to keep quiet the things that made him look bad, and it was a trait that Quinn had learned from him. Most of Judy's family lived out of town now so she doubted anyone had seen her pregnant around town. Even if they had, Quinn had changed her name, nose, glasses, and hair color since they'd last seen her so they wouldn't even recognize her if they had.

As she mingled around the room, listening to people over and over say how beautiful she was now, how she had blossomed, how much she had changed, Quinn found herself beside a cousin holding a baby. The baby girl was probably eight or nine months old with a curly mop of blonde hair on her head and beautiful hazel eyes. The cousin, Jill, she thought she'd said her name was, was already pregnant with her second child and had to run to the bathroom and, oh, wouldn't Quinn just love to hold the baby for a second while she did? Quinn had tried to refuse, to back out, but the baby had nearly been shoved in her arms as the woman walked quickly off.

Looking into the baby's face, she knew it wasn't Beth, knew it wasn't her baby. Beth was with Shelby right then, and- God, she had just thought her name twice. Quinn couldn't help but wonder where she was, what she was doing, what was happening. It would be her first Christmas, but Shelby was Jewish, so she guessed it would have been her first Hanukkah instead.

Last Christmas, Quinn had been with Puck at Target as she helped him look for a present for his mom, and they'd mistakenly gone down the Christmas aisle. Upon looking at and holding a 'Baby's First Christmas' stocking, she'd started sobbing uncontrollably. They'd had to go out to his truck where she'd cried for forty-five solid minutes. Now, here she was, a year later, holding a baby that looked so much like Beth.

"Lucy- I mean, Quinn, sorry," one of her aunts said. "Are you okay?"

"No," Quinn said, standing with the baby and passing her off to her Aunt… fuck, she couldn't even remember the woman's name right then. Hell, she may not have even been her aunt. "I have- I have to go." And she was rushing upstairs, leaving a crowd of gawking family members behind her.

Reaching her room, Quinn quietly closed the door, ever mindful of her family downstairs. She didn't want to disrupt the get-together, no matter how much she felt like slamming doors and throwing things and screaming until she was hoarse. She paced the room, willing herself not to cry, not to cry, not to cry. She was sick of crying, like she had reached some kind of mental limit and she refused to let herself. She hadn't cried this much since she'd been pregnant. What the fuck was wrong with her?

Rachel. Rachel was wrong with her. It was Rachel's fault how much she'd been crying. Every time she had told someone about the previous Saturday, about Rachel, she had cried. Her mom, Santana, at the hospital with Leroy and Hiram. Then, watching Find Nemo and thinking about her dad, she'd lost it again in front of Rachel. And that wasn't even counting the nights in the past week she'd woken from the nightmares, the memory of Rachel lying bleeding in the bathtub more twisted and horrifying than she could take until she'd woken up crying into her pillow. And now, the baby downstairs… though, okay, that one was a little harder to pin on her. Still, if not for this past week, Quinn would have been tough enough to handle it. This was Rachel's fault.

God, Quinn thought, closing her eyes and wrapping a hand around the silver cross she always wore. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm trying to be strong, but it's hard. It's so hard. Please grant me the strength to get through this. I want to think I did the right thing, that Beth has a better chance now than she ever would have had with me, but… I don't know. Please just… just watch over Beth, Lord. Protect her. Keep her safe. Make her happier than I can seem to make myself. And, yes, I know Rachel's not really to blame, but… just… Make me hard, o Lord. Make me a stone so I can keep from breaking. I have to be strong for Rachel and for mom and for Puck. Please just give me strength. Please-

"Quinnie," Judy asked, a knock on the door interrupting her prayer. "Quinn, honey, can I come in?"

Quinn said a quiet, "In Jesus name we pray, amen," and crossed herself before opening her eyes again. She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes, probably smearing her makeup, but as least she wasn't crying. She went over to the door and opened it, her mom not even speaking before she crossed the threshold and had Quinn in her arms.

"Oh, Quinnie," Judy said. "I'm so sorry. I saw Gillian," So not Jill, but Gillian, Quinn corrected herself, "handing the baby to you. I wasn't even thinking about how it would affect you until I saw you run off. I'm so, so sorry, sweetie."

"It's okay, mom," Quinn said, pulling back. "Really. I was just a little… emotional, but I'm fine." Emotional. It was laughable that the word could be applied to Quinn Fabray. Where was her veneer? Where was the Ice Quinn? Where was the Head Bitch? Where was the perfect Fabray daughter? It was her mask, her armor, and Rachel was eroding it just by being around her.

"Are you sure, sweetie?" Judy asked again.

"I'm sure," Quinn said, shaking the thoughts away. "I just… I need to make a phone call. I'll be right back downstairs." Judy started to walk away, but Quinn stopped her and pulled her back in for another tight hug. "Thanks, mom."

"Sure, honey," Judy said, smiling and patting the back of her head.

Once her mother was out of the room again, Quinn quickly had her phone in hand and was scrolling through her contact list down towards who she needed to talk to the most at the moment. After four rings, a gruff voice finally picked up. "Hello?"

"Puck?" Quinn asked, unsure.

"Yeah, hey, sorry," Puck said, clearing his throat loudly away from his phone before speaking again. "You woke me."

"It's three in the afternoon," Quinn said with a laugh. "Surely even you're up by now."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Puck said. "I was with a girl from Perry last night and she wore me out. I was trying to recharge the Puckasaurus's batteries. Man can't run on beer alone."

"It's Christmas Eve, Puckerman," Quinn said. "Surely even you take off a couple of days for the holidays."

"To a fine Jew like me, babe, it's just another Thursday night," Puck said. Quinn swore she could feel the smarm coming through her cell phone. "So what's up? You find some mistletoe that you need some of the Puckmeister under? Need me to 'trim your tree'? 'Deck your halls'? Uh… something else Christmas related?" He paused. "Sorry. Christmas isn't exactly my best time for pickup lines."

Quinn chuckled but didn't respond as she stared out the window. It looked like it might snow at any time, and she found herself hoping for a white Christmas. Images of Beth in a tiny snowsuit sprung into her mind then, playing out in the snow. Her mother had pictures of Quinn when she was younger doing the same thing, and she realized that she'd never have that. Not with Beth, at least. Quinn wouldn't be there to make those memories with her, and as much as she was glad Beth was with someone that could take care of her and raise her, she wished so much that it was her.

"Puck," Quinn said as the tears finally started to fall. Quinn cursed herself for the weakness, but she reveled in it, too. If she was going to be some weak, little weepy chick, then at least let it be over something worthwhile like her daughter. "Puck, do you… do you think we did the right thing? With… with Beth?"

She heard him take a long breath, then say, "Absolutely. Shelby's great. If we didn't feel right about her, we never would have done it. You never would have signed all that stuff if she wasn't. I think the perfect person came along at the exact right time. If I didn't believe in the Big Man before that, I would now."

"I know, I know," Quinn said wetly. "I just… sometimes…"

"Me too, Q. Me too," Puck said. There was a long pause in the conversation where Puck just listened to Quinn cry, shushing her and attempting to comfort her. The phone made it far more difficult than actually being there, but, as much as Quinn would always have a spot for Puck in her heart, seeing him right then would make it worse. Like a physical reminder of what she'd lost. Like the baby downstairs. After a while, though, he must have figured she was okay, because Puck asked, "How's Rachel, by the way?"

Quinn was wiping at her eyes but stopped, surprised by the question. "She's okay. Why do you ask?"

"Just, thinking about the adoption and everything got me thinking about her," Puck said. "Do you remember what you told me about Shelby?"

"…no?" Quinn said, racking her brain about anything she'd said about Shelby and Rachel. Honestly, a large chunk of the time after having the baby (and Quinn thanked God she'd gotten back to calling her the baby again) was kind of a blur.

"You said that if Shelby has her shit together near as much as Rachel Berry does, then Beth will be fine," Puck said with a chuckle, though it quickly faded. "Though, I guess she really doesn't anymore, though, does she?"

"She will, though," Quinn said. "I'm sure she'll be annoying the hell out of us in Glee in no time."

"Here's hoping," Puck said. She heard the smile in his voice, though she could tell it was weak, much like her own. "Just… tell her I said hey, and that me and mom and Sarah are all glad she's… y'know. Not dead."

"I will," Quinn said. "Thanks."

"Anytime, baby mama," Puck said, and any other time she would have gotten mad that he'd called her that, but right then? It was the link they shared. It was what would always connect her with Noah Puckerman, and she wouldn't have traded it for anything.